She said

but O, what strange surprise

Was pictured in her lover's eyes!

Like lightning from the ground he sprung,
While wild amazement tied his tongue-
A statue motionless, he gazed
Astonished, horror-struck, amazed.
So looked Macbeth, whose guilty eye
Discerned an air-drawn dagger nigh,
And so the Prince of Denmark stared
When first his father's ghost appeared.
At length our hero silence broke,
And thus in wildest accents spoke :-
"Cut off my whiskers! O ye gods!
I'd sooner lose my ears, by odds.
Madam, I'd not be so disgraced,
So lost to fashion and to taste,
To win an empress to my arms,

Though blest with more than mortal charms.
My whiskers! Zounds!" He said no more,
But quick retreated through the door,
And sought a less obdurate fair,

To take the beau with all his hair.

PETIT MAITRE; (pět'tē mā'tr) a fop, a dandy. SUSPENSE; a state of uncertainty; the mind is in suspense, when it is uncertain respecting facts unknown, or events beyond control. SACRIFICE; a surrender or loss incurred for gaining some object, or for obliging another-as the sacrifice of interest to pleasure, or of pleasure to interest. BooN; a gift, a favor granted. AIR-DRAWN; imaginary. FASHION; the form, cut, or shape of any thing pertaining to dress the prevailing mode in behavior or

ornament.

e 117.

8 117.

18

EXCITEMENT IN POPULAR ELECTIONS.

MAINTAIN; the first ai like short e- the second ai like long a SHRINK; sound the h in shr. INDIFFERENT; sound the fer. LIBERTY; er as in her. VIOLENCE; sound the o. GOVERNMENT; sound the n in

ern.

SIR, I maintain that the people are not only exempt from the charge of violence, but that there is a tendency to carry the feeling of indifference to public affairs to a dangerous extreme. From the peculiar structure and commercial spirit of modern society, and the facilities presented in our country for the acquisition of wealth, the eager pursuit of gain predominates over our concern for the affairs of the republic.

Wealth is the object of our idolatry, and even liberty is worshipped in the form of property. Although this spirit, by stimulating industry, is unquestionably excellent in itself, yet it is to be apprehended, that in a period of peace and tranquillity, it will become too strong for patriotism, and produce the greatest of national evils — POPULAR APATHY.

We have been frequently told that the farmer should attend to his plough, and the mechanic to his handicraft, during the canvass for the presidency. Sir, a more dangerous doctrine could not be inculcated.

If there is a spectacle from the contemplation of which I would shrink with peculiar horror, it would be that of the great mass of the American people sunk into a profound apathy on the subject of their highest political interests. Such a spectacle would be more portentous to the eye of intelligent patriotism than all the fiery signs of the heavens to the eye of trembling superstition.

If the people could be indifferent to the fate of a contest for the presidency, they would be unworthy of freedom. If I were to perceive them sinking into this apathy, I would even

apply the power of political galvanism, if such a power could be found, to raise them from their fatal lethargy.

Keep the people quiet! Peace peace! Such are the whispers by which the people are to be lulled to sleep in the very crisis of their highest concerns. Sir, "you make a solitude, and call it peace." Peace? It is death! Take away all interest from the people in the election of their CHIEF RULER, and liberty is no more.

If the people do not elect the president, the mercenary intriguers and interested office-hunters of the country will. Make the people indifferent, and you throw a general paralysis over the body politic! Tell me not, sir, of popular violence. Show me a hundred political factionists, men who look to the election of a president as the means of gratifying their high or their low ambition, and I will show you the very materials for a mob, ready for any desperate adventure connected with their common fortunes.

There was a law of Athens which subjected all citizens to punishment who neglected to take sides in the political parties which divided the republic. It was founded in the deepest wisdom. The ambitious few will inevitably acquire the ascendency in the conduct of public affairs, if the patriotic many, the people, are not stimulated and roused to a proper activity and effort.

Sir, no nation on earth has ever exerted so extensive an influence on human affairs as this will certainly exercise if we preserve our glorious system of government in its purity. The liberty of this country is a sacred depository — a vestal fire which Providence has committed to us for the general benefit of mankind.

It is the world's last hope. Extinguish it, and the earth. will be covered with eternal darkness! But once put out that fire, and I know not where is the Promethean heat which can that light relume.

e 180.

GEORGE MCDUFFIE.

$ 180

THE RIVULET.

WARMER; Sound r. NEW; ew like long u. HOME; long sound. STRAY; sound str. NUMBERS; ers as in hers. sound rdz.

THIS little rill that, from the springs
Of yonder grove its current brings,
Plays on the slope awhile, and then
Goes prattling into groves again;
Oft to its warbling waters drew
My little feet, when life was new.
When woods in early green were dressed,
And from the chambers of the west
The warmer breezes, travelling out,
Breathed the new scent of flowers about,
My truant steps from home would stray,
Upon its grassy side to play,
List the brown thrasher's vernal hymn,
And crop the violet on its brim,
With blooming cheek and open brow,
As young and gay, sweet rill, as thou.
And when the days of boyhood came,
And I had grown in love with fame,
Duly I sought thy banks, and tried
My first rude numbers by thy side.
Words cannot tell how bright and gay
The scenes of life before me lay.
Then glorious hopes, that now to speak
Would bring the blood into my cheek,
Passed o'er me; and I wrote, on high,
A name I deemed should never die.
Years change thee not. Upon yon hill
The tall old maples, verdant still,
Yet tell, in grandeur of decay,
How swift the years have passed away

give o its WORDS:

Since first, a child, and half afraid,
I wandered in the forest shade.
Thou, ever-joyous rivulet,

Dost dimple, leap, and prattle yet,
And sporting with the sands that pave
The windings of thy silver wave,

And dancing to thy own wild chime,
Thou laughest at the lapse of time.
The same sweet sounds are in my ear
My early childhood loved to hear;
As pure thy limpid waters run,
As bright they sparkle to the sun;
As fresh and thick the bending ranks
Of herbs that line thy oozy banks;
The violet there, in soft May dew,
Comes up, as modest and as blue;
As green amid thy current's stress,
Floats the scarce-rooted watercress,
And the brown ground-bird, in thy glen,
Still chirps as merrily as then.

Thou changest not- but I am changed,
Since first thy pleasant banks I ranged,
And the grave stranger, come to see
The play-place of his infancy,
Has scarce a single trace of him
Who sported once upon thy brim.
The visions of my youth are past
Too bright, too beautiful to last.
I've tried the world it wears no more
The coloring of romance it wore.
Yet well has nature kept the truth
She promised to my earliest youth:
The radiant beauty, shed abroad
On all the glorious works of God,
st 148, 155

d 264.