or Congreve's wit;" its subject is less refined than many of the old plays; as it does not deal with the characters of high life, so it cannot in any sense be called genteel; it may lack the analytical nicety of other plays, where the characters become mere personations of an idea or quality, but it does not want comic power, energy, or a keen appreciation of the ludicrous; the dialogue is constantly sustained in a rapid succession of wit and smartness, each scene aids in the development of the main theme, and has its separate interest, and when the curtain falls, there is a distinct mental impression left with us, which we confess is rarely produced by the successful farces of the day. We extract the following scene entire, a just satire, with no more heightening than is necessary to the truth of a literary picture. Mr. Brisk, in the course of his popularity hunts, comes in contact with an assembly of loafers, a scene that, with its coarse familiarity and low obsequiousness, would be disgusting, were it not relieved by our author's wit and pleasantry. "The kitchen of Work's Hotel. A table spread, lights, &c. LANDLORD, TOM LUG, and others. To them enters BRISK. "Landlord, Gentlemen, here's Mr. Brisk! "Tom Lug. Where? where?-Three cheers for his excellency! "Brisk. Ah, Thomas, it does me good to take you by the hand, you hearty old fellow-William-James-Surge, are you here too?-On my soul it's as fine for the eye as a visit to the Museum, to see so many honest friends gathered together. "Tom Lug. How's Mrs. Brisk? "Brisk. Dead these ten years, Tom. "Tom Lug. Beg your pardon-then she's as dead as old Adam himself; but how's your daughter? "Brisk. Well, I thank you, Thomas. How is your family, Mr. Surge? "Surge. (Laughing.) Your honor's jokin' with me now-now confess, your honor-playing the crab, eh!-comin' the blind eel over us?-How's your family? now that's too good! "Brisk. Well, how is your family? Landlord. You must excuse him from answering that question-any other, I have no doubt, he would with pleasure-but (whispers) he's been in the penitentiary ever since he was of marriageable age. "Brisk. Oh! (aside) I thought as much;-it's a disgrace to be born in the same century and on the same continent with such a fellow. He is enough to infect an entire hemisphere, like the plague. "Landlord. Mr. Brisk, will you be good enough to take the head of the table, with the respects of the company? "Brisk. No-no- -you must excuse me, if you will; let one of these worthy gentlemen preside, if you please. (Aside.) And save me from neighborhood to Mr. Surge. "Landlord. Well, Tom Lug, come this way. Here, put your face between these two bottles of porter, and keep your eye steadily on the water-cresses, and you may hold sober till we are through. [They take their places at the table. "Tom Lug. Alderman, what do you think of this alistockingcy that's agin us at the polls?-They say I aint fit to be governor of the state, because I'm out at elbows, and have had a little quarrel with the haberdasher, and his second cousin, the hosier. Haven't I seen figureheads of Romans and other gentlemen in the bows of as big ships as ever floated out of this port? and wasn't they naked, excepting a little roll of linen over their breasts, and a sprig of poplar in their hand? "Brisk. You not fit for governor! that's a pretty joke. You are fit for any thing. (Aside.)-Among others, from a peculiar conformation of neck, for the gallows. The man that says a pauperyea, a vagabond, Tom-is not suitable to hold the highest dignities in the gift of the people, is a traitor and a scoundrel. "Tom Lug. That's a noble sentiment a high-minded sentiment. Let's have his health-Gem'men, the health of our next alderman, Mr. John Brisk. Drunk standing, boys. [They drink it. "Brisk. (Rising.) In return, gentlemen, for this flattering toast, let me offer you, The ragamuffins and paupers of the ward: they conceal more genuine honor and virtue beneath their rags, than King Solomon in his Sunday clothes, or a Fourth of July orator in his new-bought ruffle and wristbands!' 66 Surge. (Maudlin drunk.) They call me names, aldermanthey abuse poor Joe Surge-and one of the Gudgeon gentry called me a tadpole. 66 Brisk. Why did he call you tadpole, Joseph ? [Weeps. a Surge. Because-because-your honor, I haven't had clean shirt on these three year. Tadpoles live in mud, your honor knows. "Brisk. And what do they call you, Tom? "Tom Lug. Why, your honor, one of the canvassers returns me as a resident turtle! "Brisk. How is that? "Tom Lug. 'Cause I never comes out of this old corduroy jacket of mine. "Brisk. What name have these worthy gentlemen? I suppose you are all christened. "Tom Lug. These are the men in the moon, because they al ways have dirty faces. Now, alderman, give us a song for answering all these questions. "Brisk. One more-Has your worthy landlord no title ? "Cook. (Speaks up.) Yes, an it please Alderman Brisk, your honor-we call him the chimbly-swallow, for he's for everlasting poking about the hearth, and smelling the smoke and the dishes. "Tom Lug. Now for the song! "All. Yes, now for the song! "Brisk. How many stevedores and wharfingers do you know, Tom? "Tom Lug. Let me see, there's Zeke Oakum, tarpaulin Tomtwo; Bill Baffin; but poor Bill's deadly sick-I doubt whether he'll get up to vote: say a score and a half. But give us the song, if you please. (Aside)-Hark'ee, my boys, if he doesn't come down with his song, we'll pitch our votes on the other sidethat's all. "Brisk. (Aside.) I hear that, and although I would as lief sing in a musty fish-keg, I must try it. "THE SONG. "Were mine a head as high as is the highest steeple, A tongue as loud as it's far-sounding bell, The one I would raise to the sky for the people- "Were my arm but as long as the great Mississippi, With the one, for their sakes, how, ye tyrants! I'd whip ye, "If my legs were as long as the tall Alleganies, Like Barclay, I'd walk the wide world roundabout And rescue, wherever I found them, poor royalist zanies, "Oh, give me a breast that expands like the ocean, Then, oh then to my heart I will hug with emotion "Tom Lug. (Aside.) Now he must give us the hornpipe he danced at the Fancy Ball with aunt Peggy on his back. Cook will do for aunt Peggy, if she brushes up a little.-Come, alderman, another favor to your constituents! "Brisk. What's that, Tom? Any thing you can ask-you know I am the servant of the people. "Tom Lug. Nothing much; I'm a'most ashamed to ask you, it's such a mere trifle.-Joe, you ask him, you aint afraid of the penitentiary keepers. Why, uncle Brisk, to make a plain story of it, you must give us your Fancy-Ball hornpipe around the table with cook on your back. "Brisk. (Feigns sudden sickness.) Landlord, what have you put in these lobsters? They have made me sick as death-give me fresh air-There, so; now lead me to the door : I shall be well in a minute. (Is conducted to the door, and makes off.) "Tom Lug. What a kind good man Mr. Brisk is-he's broke his constitution working at dinners and suppers and cold collations for the people! That was a capital song, as good as the quirister himself could give us; but I'm afraid the idea of cook and he in a hornpipe was too much for his nerves! Any how, three cheers and our votes to a man for little Jack Brisk!" The subject of political life is well chosen for illustration; its capacity for mirth, its openness to ridicule, are perceived by the most implicit follower at the heels of the best crowdcompelling politician. An ordinary newspaper taken up by any other person than a committee-man or a vice president, whose name is therein figured in capitals, is itself a laughable satire on the conduct of elections. The good sense that characterizes the people on other occasions, seems abandoned the moment the choice of a ruler, or a magistrate, is concerned. Doubtless there is something of value involved — some actual right in every contest of this kind-since men do not get violently interested where there is nothing at stake; but, if it were sought to bury truth under the greatest load of misconceptions-to render her ridiculous, and the most unlike herself-the attempt could not be more successful than in a political question as at present conducted. The most refined artifice, and the most shallow trick of ignorance, are mingled together, and seem equally to pass current in the necessities of the moment. As nothing is nobler than the science of politics, so nothing is meaner, not even the basest acts of the attorney, than the poor tricks, the disgraceful subterfuges, the lies, evasions, and meannesses of the art of gaining office. These are not confined to either party. It seems a curse upon those who would meddle profanely with holy things; that patriotism-the desire to lead our fellowcitizens, virtuously, and by right influence, the purest of incentives where it is honest-should, the moment that principle is disregarded, lead men into the most loathsome contempt and folly. ART. VIII.-1. Speech of Mr. Wall, of New Jersey, delivered in the Senate, May 12, 1840, on the bill to establish a uniform system of Bankruptcy. 2. Speech of Mr. Calhoun, of South Carolina, in the Senate, June 2, 1840, on the same subject. 3. Two Speeches of Mr. Webster, same session, on the same subject. THE subject of a bankrupt law, at all times interesting to a commercial community, has been rendered peculiarly so by the late revulsions in trade. The success, in the senate, of the bill reported at the last session, has contributed still farther to heighten that interest. It seems, now, not altogether visionary to hope for such a law at no distant day, and we should scarcely be doing our duty to the country, if we neglected to avail ourselves of the occasion presented by the recent congressional discussion, to fix the attention of the public upon some of the more prominent points of that important question. M. de Tocqueville, in his work upon "Democracy in the United States," betrays-amidst evidences of much ability -the common weakness of the French mind, in every part of the book, but in none more strikingly than in that which relates to the matter of bankruptcy. He is what is called, in a most expressive French phrase, an homme à système. He insists upon explaining all the phenomena by a single preconceived principle. Democracy is a key to every peculi arity in a country distinguished by so many of them. Thus, our very commerce is democratic, and will submit, he affirms, to no restraints. Accordingly, says he, they have no bankrupt law-c'est tout simple. Now we need not inform our readers, that so far as it depended upon the "commerce," that is to say, the commercial world in these states, there has never been a day in the last twenty years in which such a law would not have passed almost unanimously. The merchants and traders, generally, have petitioned, demanded, protested, "beseeching or besieging" strenuously, continually, clamorously. There has been, so far as we know, as little diversity of opinion among that class, as to the expediency of |