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They love their land, because it is their own,
And scorn to give ought other reason why;
Would shake hands with a king upon
his throne,

And think it kindness to his majesty ;

A stubborn race, fearing and flattering none.

Such are they nurtured, such they live and die : All-but a few apostates, who are meddling

With merchandize, pounds, shillings, pence, and peddling;

Or wandering through the southern countries, teaching
The A. B. C. from Webster's spelling-book;
Gallant and godly, making love and preaching,
And gaining, by what they call "hook and crook,"
And what the moralists call overreaching,

A decent living. The Virginians look
Upon them with as favorable eyes
As Gabriel on the devil in paradise.

But these are but their outcasts.

View them near

At home, where all their worth and pride are placed; And there their hospitable fires burn clear,

And there the lowliest farm-house is graced

With manly hearts, in piety sincere,

Faithful in love, in honor stern and chaste,
In friendship warm and true, in danger brave,
Beloved in life, and sainted in the grave.

And minds have there been nurtured, whose control
Is felt even in their nation's destiny;

Men who swayed senates with a statesman's soul,
And looked on armies with a leader's eye;

Names that adorn and dignify the scroll,

Whose leaves contain their country's history,

And tales of love and war-listen to one,

Of the Green Mountaineer-the Stark of Bennington.
When on the field his band the Hessians fought,
Briefly he spoke before the fight began-
"Soldiers! those German gentleman are bought
For four pound eight and seven pence per man,
By England's king-a bargain, as is thought.

Are we worth more ? Let's prove it now we can-
For we must beat them, boys, ere set of sun,
OR MARY STARK'S A WIDOW."-It was done.

Her's are not Tempe's nor Arcadia's spring,
Nor the long summer of Cathayan vales,
The vines, the flowers, the air, the skies, that fling
Such wild enchantment o'er Boccacio's tales
Of Florence and the Arno-yet the wing

Of life's best angel, health, is on her gales
Through sun and snow-and in the autumn time
Earth has no purer and no lovelier clime.

Her clear, warm heaven at noon-the mist that shrouds
Her twilight hills,-her cool and starry eves,
The glorious splendor of her sunset clouds,
The rain-bow beauty of her forest leaves,
Come o'er the eye, in solitude and crowds,

Where'er his web of song a poet weaves;
And his mind's brightest vision but displays
The autumn scenery of his boyhood's days.

And when you dream of woman, and her love;
Her truth, her tenderness, her gentle power;
The maiden, listening in the moonlight grove;
The mother smiling in her infant's bower;
Forms, features, worshipped while we breathe or move-
Be by some spirit of your dreaming hour
Borne, like Loretto's chapel, through the air

To the green land I sing, then wake, you'll find them there.

ON STYLE.-PAULDING.

Style, a manner of writing; title; pin of a dial; the pistil of plants. Johnson, Style, is......style.-Link. Fid.

Now I would not give a straw for either of the above definitions, though I think the latter is by far the most satisfactory; and I do wish sincerely every modern numscull who takes hold of a subject he knows nothing about, would adopt honest Linkum's mode of explanation. Blair's Lectures on this article, have not thrown a whit more light on the subject of my inqui ries; they puzzled me just as much as did the learned and laborious expositions and illustrations of the worthy professor of our college, in the middle of which I generally had the ill-luck to fall asleep.

This same word style, though but a diminutive word, assumes to itself more contradictions, and significations, and eccentricities, than any monosyllable in the language is legitimately entitled to. It is an arrant little humorist of a word, and full of whim-whams, which occasions me to like it hugely ; but it puzzled me most wickedly on my first return from a long residence abroad, having crept into fashionable use during my absence; and had it not been for friend Evergreen, and that thrifty sprig of knowledge, Jeremy Cockloft the younger, I should have remained to this day ignorant of its meaning.

Though it would seem that the people of all countries are equally vehement in the pursuit of this phantom, style, yet in almost all of them there is a strange diversity in opinion as to what constitutes its essence; and every different class, like the pagan nations, adore it under a different form. In England, for instance, an honest cit packs up himself, his family, and his style, in a buggy or tim whisky, and rattles away on Sunday with his fair partner blooming beside him, like an eastern bride, and two chubby children squatting like Chinese images at his feet. A baronet requires a chariot and pair: an earl must needs have a barouche-and-four: but a duke-oh! a duke cannot possibly lumber his style along under a coach-and-six, and half a score of footmen into the bargain. In China, a puissant mandarin loads at least three elephants with style; and an overgrown sheep at the Cape of Good Hope trails along his tail and his style on a wheelbarrow. In Egypt, or at Constantinople, style consists in the quantity of fur and fine clothes a lady can put on without danger of suffocation: here it is otherwise, and consists in the quantity she can put off without the risk of freezing A Chinese lady is thought prodigal of her charms, if she exposes the tip of her nose, or the ends of her fingers, to the ardent gaze of bystanders; and I recollect that all Canton was in a buzz in consequence of the great belle, Miss Nangfous, peeping out of the window with her face uncovered! Here the style is to show not only the face, but the neck, shoulders, etc.; and a lady never presumes to hide them except when she is not at home, and not sufficiently undressed to see company.

This style has ruined the peace and harmony of many a worthy household; for no sooner do they set up for style, but instantly all the honest old comfortable sans cérémonie furniture is discarded; and you stalk cautiously about among the uncomfortable splendor of Grecian chairs, Egyptian tables, Turkey carpets, and Etruscan vases. This vast improvement in

furniture demands an increase in the domestic establishment; and a family that once required two or three servants for convenience, now employ half a dozen for style.

Bell Brazen, late favorite of my unfortunate friend Dessalines, was one of these patterns of style; and whatever freak she was seized with, however preposterous, was implicitly followed by all who would be considered as admitted in the stylish arcana. She was once seized with a whim-wham that tickled the whole court. She could not lie down to take an afternoon's loll but she must have one servant to scratch her head, two to tickle her feet, and a fourth to fan her delectable person while she slumbered. The thing took; it became the rage, and not a sable belle in all Hayti but what insisted upon being fanned, and scratched, and tickled in the true imperial style. Sneer not at this picture, my most excellent townsmen; for who among you but are daily following fashions equally absurd?

Style, according to Evergreen's account, consists in certain fashions, or certain eccentricities, or certain manners of certain people, in certain situations, and possessed of a certain share of fashion or importance. A red cloak, for instance, on the shoulders of an old market-woman, is regarded with contempt; it is vulgar-it is odious: fling, however, its usurping rival, a red shawl, over the figure of a fashionable belle, and let her flame away with it in Broadway, or in a ball-room, and it is immediately declared to be the style.

The modes of attaining this certain situation, which entitles its holder to style, are various and opposite: the most ostensible is the attainment of wealth; the possession of which changes at once the pert airs of vulgar ignorance into fashionable ease and elegant vivacity. It is highly amusing to observe the gradation of a family aspiring to style, and the devious windings they pursue in order to attain it. While beating up against wind and tide, they are the most complaisant beings in the world; they keep "booing and booing," as M'Sycophant says, until you would suppose them incapable of standing upright; they kiss their hands to every body who has the least claim to style; their familiarity is intolerable, and they absolutely overwhelm you with their friendship and loving-kindness. But having once gained the envied pre-eminence, never were beings in the world more changed. They assume the most intolerable caprices; at one time address you with importunate sociability; at another pass you by with silent indifference; sometimes sit up in their chairs in all the majesty of dignified

silence; and at another time bounce about with all the obstreperous ill-bred noise of a little hoyden just broke loose from a boarding-school.

Another feature which distinguishes these new-made fashionables, is the inveteracy with which they look down upon the honest people who are struggling to climb up to the same envied height. They never fail to salute them with the most sarcastic reflections; and like so many worthy hodmen clambering a ladder, each one looks down upon his next neighbor below, and makes no scruple of shaking the dust off his shoes into his eyes. Thus, by dint of perseverance merely, they come to be considered as established denizens of the great world; as in some barbarous nations an oyster-shell is of sterling value, and a copper washed counter will pass current for genuine gold.

In no instance have I seen this grasping after style more whimsically exhibited than in the family of my old acquaintance Timothy Giblet. I recollect old Giblet when I was a boy, and he was the most surly curmudgeon I ever knew. He was a perfect scarecrow to the small-fry of the day, and inherited the hatred of all these unlucky little urchins; for never could we assemble about his door of an evening to play, and make a little hubbub, but out he sallied from his nest like a spider, flourished his formidable horsewhip, and dispersed the whole crew in the twinkling of a lamp. I perfectly remember a bill he sent in to my father for a pane of glass I had accidentally broken, which came well-nigh getting me a sound flogging; and I remember as perfectly, that the next night I revenged myself by breaking half a dozen. Giblet was as arrant a grubworm as ever crawled; and the only rules of right and wrong he cared a button for, were the rules of multiplication and addition, which he practised much more successfully than he did any of the rules of religion or morality. He used to declare they were the true golden rules; and he took special care to put Cocker's Arithmetic in the hands of his children, before they had read ten pages in the bible or the prayer-book. The practice of these favorite maxims was at length crowned with the harvest of success; and after enduring all the pounds, shillings, and pence miseries of a miser, he had the satisfaction of seeing himself worth a plum, and of dying just as he had determined to enjoy the remainder of his days in contemplating his great wealth and accumulating mortgages.

His children inherited his money; but they buried the disposition, and every other memorial of their father, in his grave.

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