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ed with tremendous roar; and the music played, followed by such clapping and shouting as rent the air. Surely, said Charles, if Mars and Bachus were gods, all this would be consistent. He retired to enjoy the stillness of his chamber, and to make the following reflections :

How various are the characters and conduct of men! I have doubtless seen to day many of the Patriots of '76, and their legitimate sons—and probably patriots of bluster and noisy vociferation, foremost in words and hindmost in deeds --brandy inspired patriots, who love the independent use of the bottle more than the independence of their country-despicable cowards, assuming all the words and airs of patriotic heroism, only because enemies and dangers were out of sight --tories in disguise, lovers of the loaves and fishes, who strike the notes of patriotism with the true, lest they should lose a dinner; and be branded with deserved infamy ; weathercock patriots, aiways on the strongest side, who like the Herodians shape their politics to the times, and flatter the dominant party ; office-seekers, always patriots for the filthy lucre of a great salary ; vassal patriots, led by the rich, gov. erned by companies and corporations ; patriots, who deal in scandal by whole sale, because they will vilify all but their own party, whether rulers or ruled ; and others, who rank so low in the scale of patriotism, they want a name.

Just as he ended these reflections, two young gentlemen entered his chamber, and being seated, began the following dialogue, from which it appeared one was a British aristocrat and the other a French dernocrat.

French Democrat. Where did you celebrate independence to day ?

British Aristocrat. Among true Americans !
F. D. You dined in the tent then I suppose.
B. A. No, not 1-do you think I would disgrace myself
with a parcel dirty, French partisans ?

F. D. Ah to be sure, you then had the honour of dining with a parcel of British factionists.-- But tell me, what was the substance of your oration to day.

B. A. Our orator began, by setting forth the magnanimity of the British nation; he proved to a demonstration, that she is our LEGITIMATE mother, the BULWARK of the religion we profess; that she bas done us no ESSENTIAL injury; and, that she had an indisputable right to chastise us, her children, by orders in council

, and impressment of seamen, for our unnat

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ural rebellion. Like a wise descerning statesman, he showed the EXCELLENCY of the British constitution and government; and declared, he had rather have it, MONARCHY and ALL, than to have our own. The defects of our constitution he next pointed out, with equal wisdom and discernment. He proved by arguments, which no one could gainsay, that the gorerning party are under French influence ; and stand in such fear of Napoleon, that they dare do nothing but as he dictates. The necessity of pulling down the constituted authorities, peacibly if we can, forcibly if we must, was his next theme; on which he dwelt with such astonishing eloquence, that it lighted up the flame of patriotism in every American heart; so that our blood boiled with indignation against our weak, defective form of government, and the more weak and defective administration of it.

F. D. Enough-enough, I have a full idea of your toryisna without hearing another word.

B. A. And I know enough of your rotten, French demo cracy.

B. A. Napoleon is a tyrant.
F. D. The Prince Regent is a debauchee.

B. A. The demos ought to be cursed, for they have broʻt more trouble on the nation already, than they will ever be able to take off

F. D. The British aristocrats ought to be despised, for loving a foreign nation and government more than their own.

B. A. If I had my pistol here I'd shoot you-
F. D. If I had my horse-whip here I'd whip you

Here they grew so warm, jumping up in a rage, each one went his own way, and so the dispute ended. But it opened a new source of reflection to Chiarles.

How little can be known of the real character of the two great political parties, by the violent, nonsensical disputes of ignorant, heated partizans? If B. A. gave a true account of the oration to-day, I execrate it from my very soul; nor do I less hate the violent, levelling scheme of the F. D. if some intimations he gave were expressive of his true character. In a word, British and French politics are exotic plants, unfit for the soil of intelligent freedom. The one is a liberty without knowing how to make an understanding use of it, full of licentiousness, jealousy, and outrage; the other is a jumble of monarchy, aris ocracy, republicanism, and feudalism. True patriotism, therefore, lies exactly between both these extremes.

In the heated opposition carried on by the two political parties, there is, in many cases, no more sense or argument, than is contained in the above dialogue. It is much to be wished, that this evil were at an end, and candor and truth were become the constant characteristics of the nation, and of individuals.

After Charles had returned to Mr. P's, he desired to know why the ladies so often rode out with their puppies, instead of children. A young gentleman present, replied with some degree of pleasantry- The ladies you saw, think it a disgrace and trouble not to be endured, to nurse their own-children. They are too dirty and noisy, fur these cleanly, delicate mothers; they require so much time and attention to nurse and take care of them, they would have no time for cards, assemblies, visits, plays, and other fashionable amusements. Beside, it would be altogether indecorous, to have a child, and especially to have it cry in company. As for puppies, they are naturally so polite, that they can give no offence in the politest circles; their yelping and screaming form sounds concordant and grateful to every lady's ear ; not inferior to the melody of the harpsichord. And no lady of such high rank, would any more be seen with an infant in a carriage, than she would be seen with a filthy, squeaking pig; but a puppy in her arms is perfectly modish, and a certain mark of dignity and high life.

But it would seem, said Charles, far more natural for mothers to nurse their own children ; for the lowest grade of brutes resent or grieve, if their young be parted from them.

Fashions, said Mr. P. have little to-do either with the dictates of nature or virtue. In many cases, the more unnatural they are, the more eagerly they are embraced, and the more obstinately held.

It is true, said the young gentleman, and were the ladies you saw, with their genteel, young dogs, to hear these remarks, they would smile with contempt; and laugh at their mothers, and grandmothers, for being so indecent and ill-bred as nurse their own infants, instead of bringing up as many dogs as they had borne children. The love

of these barking little quadrupeds, has become predominant, among the highest class of the gentry. They could no more be allowed the claim of high life, without it, than if they knew not how to dance. Nor would they, for the world, be suspected of loving a child, as much as they love one of these engaging

little animals. You shall see one of these modern gentry, weep

and sob at the death of an adopted puppy ; and talk of it with a sigh, for six months afterward.

She will tell you what an engaging little creature it was ; “ he was surprisingly genteel in drinking his tea, and eating his bread and butter; he would cry like a child for the breast; and talk so as to be well understood; he would perform some of the most delightful and engaging antics; he was washed and perfumed every day. I have so missed him from my bed and arms since his death, that I have lain almost sleepless for many nights together. And Mrs. B. says, the house absolutely looks lonesome ever since poor little Trip died, and wonders I have not dressed in mourning, and put up prayers on the oceasion. Mr. F. has composed an elegy on his death, which is truly affecting ; and though it has drawn many téars from my eyes, yet it has not been a little comfort to

If you please, I will read it :"


An Elegy on the death of Trip, a favorite little dog, who died

December 10, 1813, and owned by Mrs. A.

Poor little Trip, he's gone, he's gone !
And left you weeping here alone ;
Methinks I hear you sighing say,
Poor Trip lies mould'ring in the clay !
Oh, the sad bour, when cruel death,
Depriv'd that little dog of breath!
And forc’d, (reler.tless from your arms)
Your best delight, with all his charms.
How solitary must you be !
Since you your dog no more can see !
What pensive sadness round you reigns !
What cutting anguish-heartfelt pains !!

o weep your children dead,
And think all earthly comfort fled ;
Know ye, my sorrows your's surpass,
And need superior strength of grace.
How vain are earthly things, I cry,
How soon our best enjoyments fly ;
There's nought on earth that will endure-moi
E’en Trip is dead, and is no more !
How shall I set my sorrows forth !
Or how display transcendent worth !
What charms he had-but 0, the pain
I ne'er shall see those charms again!

ye who 1

Then flow, my sorrows-flow my sigha,
And streaming anguish veil my eyes ;
Till I have paid the tribute due,
And prov'd my love, poor Trip, to you."


I have not made the above poetical attempt, because I imagined myself capable of doing justice to your favorite ; but knowing your loss to be very great, I thought it my duty to condole with you on this melancholy occasion. You will, therefore, have the goodness to accept this feeble attempt to describe the workings of a heart, pressed as yours is, with no common affliction. But be careful you are not swallowed up of overmuch sorrow. You will, doubtless, find it necessary to take a journey into the country, and amoug your friends, to divert your mind, and alleviate your sorrows, lest your health should be impaired by such a weight of trouble. Or if you should be already too much borne down with sorrow, to undertake this more laborious diversion, you may find tea parties, card playing, and the theatre, a very good substitute. And it may ease a burthened mind, and atone for any neglects you were guilty of, toward your dear little Trip, should you erect a marble monument over his grave, with a panegyric inscribed thereon, to perpetuate the remembrance of his excellent character to future generations.

Yours, &c.

T. F. Folly Lane, Jan. 1, 1814.

Moralizing is here needless; the picture speaks for itself. Let those who can, look at it, and receive benefit.


Nor long after, Charles was invited to spend an afternoon in a fashionable circle of

; some of whom dealt largely in scandal, others dealt in it by the piece, and by small measure. Some of them professed religion, and dow and then put on a long face, and looked unutterable hings, and sighed at the corruptions and vices of men; but

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