thoroughly after their first appearance to excite the least apprehension of permanence or effect, as respects the fame of Jefferson, from their present unhallowed revival.

A few moments more to Burr's character, and we have done.

The fortunes and the fate of Aaron Burr form, altogether, in his rise, his triumph, and his fall, one of the most impressive lessons in the history of a popular government.

Under other circumstances and in a different state of society, his peculiar endowments and qualifications were such that he might probably have taken rank in history, among the herd of 'great men.' Of brilliant talents,-a mind, bold, clear, and sagacious, and an address singularly winning and attractive, he could have made himself conspicuous in any country or period, but was peculiarly fitted to distinguish himself in times when society, resolved into its original elements, left every character, without any adventitious obstacle or aid, to find its own level, and form its own support. Burr was thrown into relief strongly by the times in which he lived. His abil ities and energy invested with a warmer interest than their own, the subordinate and somewhat insignificant services, in the war of Independence of a volatile and eager youth, who retired from the army long before its completion. The same qualities, aided by his position in society, gave him influence as a politician, when the people of this country were in the first noviciate of the labors and duties of self-government, and the pretensions of public men were examined with less scrutiny, and yielded to with more readiness, than when experience and necessity had taught them circumspection. As a politician, his strongest characteristic was his selfishness— he had no steady or guiding principle, by which to regulate his conduct or opinions, and this instinct led him to adopt the course which promised the easiest attainment of his immediate object. This also made him reserved, and as a necessary consequence, the people became, in turn, distrustful. He had none of the eloquent candor, which makes purpose clear as action, and wins the confidence of friends, and the respect of adversaries, from the mere absence of all guile. By the inverse ratio Burr was, in an eminent degree, attractive in private life. He shone in the drawingroom; for there manner was omnipotent, and tact, and grace, and honied words, could accomplish, what only lofty integrity and great actions could do in public life,-win him the applause and distinction that he coveted. But even in his personal conduct, that want of principle, which was his bane as a politician, degraded him into a libertine and a voluptuary. The selfish gratification which was his object, found the price of pleasing in indulgences, for which honor, reputation, and morality, were sacrificed without a scruple. No man was ever socially more corrupt. "In his intercourse with females,” says his biographer, "he was an unprincipled flatterer, ever pre

pared to take advantage of their weakness, their credulity, or their confidence. She that confided in him was lost. In referring to this subject, no terms of condemnation would be too strong to apply to Colonel Burr." Strong language, indeed, but which would be borne out by the personal testimony of all who knew him. The qualities which made Burr restless and intriguing as a politician, were well calculated to give him success in his profession as a lawyer; the reputation of lofty character, he could not win in any pursuit. There,--as the science of law has always, unfortunately for mankind, been practised,-wiles, address, and assiduity, directed with sagacity and promptness, could hardly fail to effect their object. His practice, in consequence, became lucrative and extensive. He had, however, no weight as a lawyer, and the most remarkable instance of his success recorded by his biographer, was accomplished by a disreputable artifice, which could never have been practised, still less exulted in, by an honorable mind.

As a politician, he rose with great rapidity. There was a something in the mystery of his conduct calculated to impose upon, perhaps awe, minds less acute and active than his own. The art of management alone achieved for him the wonders of political weight and personal importance. He was invaluable in arranging the plan of a legislative campaign, or an election contest; and his importance to his party, became, in consequence immense. It was not of a kind, however, to extend beyond the sphere of his endeavours—and while his personal influence and popularity were, at one time, probably higher in his own State than that of any other man except Hamiltonunlike him, he was scarcely known throughout the Union. The nomination to the Vice Presidency was given to the State of New York, not won by Burr. The progress of that election furnished opportunities, calculated to bring every latent quality of Burr's reckless and unprincipled character into action. He was by that contest placed in circumstances, where chance could bring within his grasp that dazzling prize, to which in other circumstances men could only look, as a reward of great services, or in the triumph of mighty principles-to be achieved by years of patient struggle, and to constitute a national success. There was nothing beyond that for an ambitious wish, and his specious philosophy too surely taught him that success would consecrate the means. In failing he lost all. The outrage against public principle was not less flagrant in the attempt, than it would have been in his success, and his political fate was sealed. The possibility of a public man colluding for an end, centering in himself with adversaries, against whom the whole party whose opinions he represented, were committed in direct hostility of cardinal views,-is a political crime for which there is, and

* Vol. 2, page 15.

ought to be, no forgiveness. That hostile principle formed the life and soul of his political power, and represented the mighty mass of hopes and fears and opinions, which had placed him in the front-their creature, their assertor, their conservator-and the very semblance of betrayal, in a crisis where unfailing confidence was at once the test of purity and the instrument of success-was a treason against all honor and all righteousness-infamous in its accomplishment, and fatally so in its failure.

That charge was made against Burr. He had, before the whole country, been used as the instrument of the deadly foes to his party and his principles, and the withering accusation was added-with his own connivance. In the absence of direct proof against him there was nothing in his character, or previous political history, to repel the dark suspicions that were directed against him; he showed no respect for the morbid anxiety of public honor which called for explanation. Morose, haughty and reserved, he received every charge with a sullen desperation that savored of the contumacy of guilt, until suspicion became confirmed, by a mass of conclusive circumstantial evidence; and the towering fabric of his power, which, like a mighty oak of the forest, spread his influence far and wide, was uprooted, prostrated and withered, by the storm of indignant exasperation he had aroused.

Utterly hopeless was that fall-most solemn and impressive is the lesson, to all public men, which it inculcates. It is in vain to talk of the ingratitude of republics, or of proscription, in the case of Burr. In no country, where freedom of opinion exists, will a public man be exempt from assault; but the value of sterling principle is, that in proportion to the vigor and malignity of attack, will the counteracting love, confidence and respect of the people be diffused. Compare, for instance, the attacks of the press on Burr, with those on Jefferson-indeed it is unnecessary-for in malignity, extent, and vigor there is no comparison,-yet, in spite of them, the influence of Jefferson grew in the country until he overshadowed the power and the hostility of a mighty and triumphant faction-in spite of them he carried his mild and salutary policy into effect--and in spite of them has his memory grown dear to his country, and his glory become identified with its institutions, and with the best interests of mankind wherever they are understood. Burr fell not before them, but because he had forfeited, for ever, all claims to public confidence or respect.

The subsequent career of Burr developed more fully the darkness of those elements of his character which hurled him from his high estate. The death of Hamilton opened every eye to the horrid spectacle of a man without a heart, and in his subsequent trial for treason against his country, the restless and dangerous intriguer was laid bare in every motive. Though acquitted on the technical

charge, a higher tribunal had passed an irreversible judgment on his conduct, and he wandered forth from that bar, like the primal murderer, with the mark of God upon his brow,-an outcast and an alien among his kind. From this time, it is impossible to reflect upon his fate without a feeling of fear and awe. A wanderer in foreign lands, and every where suspected and repelled--the proud man tasted the wretchedness of misery and want, and returned to his country, because he could find no asylum for the sole of his foot in all the earth, though he had essayed to purchase it by forswearing the very land of his birth. There he lived to a long wretchedness of age, forsaken by friends, deserted by kindred, and shunned by all. He lived to see most of the contemporaries among whom he had once been foremost, assume their rank in history, and--sad extremity of fate--to see posterity, also, confirm the deliberate opinion of a previous age upon himself, consoled only, in the depths of his degradation, by the selfish excesses of a faded voluptuary, so far beneath the cognizance of social morality, as to be reckless of its frown and hardened from its effects.

Awful, indeed, must have been the reflections of that desolate old man, as he wandered forth, alone, unknowing and unknown, in the heart of the mighty city where multitudes had once hung upon his words, and applauding crowds pressed eager round his steps,-shunned by all, or pointed out to the gaze of timid curiosity, like some spectral revivescence of political enormity.

Burr's place in the annals of his country, will be secured to him only by the maleficence of his star. Up to the close of his legislative career in 1799, he had not risen above the rank of an ordinary politician, and during his public career he had been distinguished by no act to entitle him to the gratitude or even the consideration of his country. His name is connected with none of the great public events or measures of his day, nor has he left a single writing behind him in a period when principles and policy were discussed with all the energy and vigor of great and inquiring minds, from which his contemporaries could ever gather an opinion on the great questions of law and policy, which agitated his day,-but the presidential election, the death of Hamilton, and his trial for treason, are dark distinctions, which will ever attach to his name, and secure him a place in history, equally conspicuous as a warning and an example.

POLITICAL PORTRAITS WITH PEN AND PENCIL.

No. II.

WILLIAM C. RIVES.

One of the most accomplished men of the day, is the original of the No. II of our political portrait gallery. And of all the prominent statesmen now before the public eye, few enjoy in so high a degree the personal respect and esteem of their friends,-a respect and esteem which no differences of opinion, that may arise in the progress of complicated and delicate questions of public policy, can shake. Mr. Rives has been, from his youth, a zealous supporter of the Democratic school of political faith, in the great division of the parties of the country, of which he early imbibed the principles from an intimate intercourse with its great founder, Jefferson; and if the opinion has ever been entertained by any, that any minor diversity of views, upon points of expediency, time, and means towards a common end, could produce the effect of placing him in an adverse relation to the main body of the Democratic party (of whose creed acquiescence in the will of the majority, when fairly ascertained, is a cardinal feature)-that opinion is, we feel confident, widely erroneous. Still less is it to be supposed, that the distinguished Virginian Senator can ever permit himself and the personal influence which attaches to his name already on frequent occasions honorably eminent in the annals of the Democratic cause-to be made an instrument of serious or permanent party dissension, by those who look to that means as affording the sole possible remaining chance for the re-establishment of a National Bank, on the overthrow of the present Democratic ascendency; nor is it to be imagined, that Mr. Rives can ever be permanently alienated from the side of all those soundly Republican associates, to the success of whose exertions, in the common cause of their common principles, his abilities and eloquence have, on many eventful occasions, so efficiently contributed. We have no doubt, that on all future occasions, as through his past political career, Mr. Rives will never pursue any other than a manly and honorable course, entirely free from any influence of unworthy motive, and with a single view to consolidate and perpetuate the ascendency, in the administration of our institutions, of the principles of Jefferson.