258 ON INDIFFERENCE TO POPULAR ELECTIONS.

handicraft, during the canvass for the presidency. Sir, a more dangerous doctrine could not be inculcated. If there is any 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.

2. Such a spectacle would be more portentous, to the eye of intelligent patriotism, than all the monsters of the earth, and 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 rouse them from their fatal lethargy.

3. " 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? 'Tis death! Take away all interest, from the people, in the election of their chief ruler, and liberty is no more. What, sir, is to be the consequence? If the people do not elect the President, somebody must. There is no special providence to decide the question. Who, then is to make the election, and how will it operate?

4. The general patriotic excitement of the people, in relation to the election of the President, is as essential to the health and energy of the political system, as circulation of the blood is to the health and energy of the natural body. Check that circulation, and you inevitably produce local inflammation, gangrene, and - ultimately death. Make the people indifferent, destroy their legitimate influence, and you communicate a morbid violence to the efforts of those who are ever ready

ON INDIFFERENCE TO POPULAR ELECTIONS, 259

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to assume the control of such affairs, the mercenary intriguers and interested office-hunters of the country. 5. Tell me not, sir, of popular violence! Show me a hundred political factionists, - men who look to the election of a President as a 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. The reason of this extraordinary excitement is obvious. It is a matter of self-interest, of personal ambition. The people can have no such motives; they look only to the interest and glory of the country.

6. There was a law of Athens which subjected every citizen to punishment, who refused to take sides in the political parties which divided the republic. It was founded in the deepest wisdom. In political affairs, the vicious, the ambitious, and the interested, are always active. It is the natural tendency of virtue, confiding in the strength of its own cause, to be inactive. It hence results that the ambitious few will inevitably acquire the ascendency, in the conduct of human affairs, if the patriotic many, the people, are not stimulated and roused to a proper activity and effort.

7. 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 deposit, 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 oncé put out that fire, and I "know not where is the Pro-me'the-an heat which can that light relume."

GEORGE MCDUFFIE. (1785-1851.)

CVII. -THE DOWNFALL OF POLAND

LEAGUED (leegd), pp., united. /

VOLLEYED, pp., discharg

PAN'DOUR (-door), n., a foot soldier in PU-IS'SANT, a., powerful.

the Austrian service.

Toc'sIN, n., an alarm-bell.

DM-NIP'O-TENT, a., all-powerful.

HUS-SAR' (huz-), n., a mou

PRE-SAGE', v. t., to foresh

SAR-MA'TIA, n., old name

Pronounce Pharaoh, Fa'ro. Avoid saying srieked for shrieked; picter

O! SACRED Truth! thy triumph ceased a while,
And Hope, thy sister, ceased with thee to smi
When leagued Oppression poured to Northern
Her whiskered pandours and her fierce hussars
Waved her dread standard to the breeze of mo
Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpe
Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van,
Presaging wrath to Poland-and to man!

Warsaw's last champion from her height surve
Wide o'er the field a waste of ruin laid:
O Heaven! he cried, my bleeding country sav
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely pl
Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains!
By that dread name, we wave the sword on hi
And vow for her to live! - with her to die!

He said, and on the rampart-heights arrayed His trusty warriors, few, but undismayed; Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm; Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly "Revenge, or death,"-the watchword and re Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm, And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm!

In vain, alas! in vain, ye gallant few!
From rank to rank your volleyed thunder flew
O! bloodiest picture in the book of Time.

THE INQUISITIVE MAN.

Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe,
Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe!

261

Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear, Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career;— Hope, for a season, băde the world farewell,

And Freedom shrieked

as Kosciusko fell.

O! righteous Heaven! ere Freedom found a grave, Why slept the sword, omnipotent to save?

Where was thine arm, O Vengeance! where thy rod,
That smote the foes of Zion and of God?

That crushed proud Ammon, when his iron car
Was yoked in wrath, and thundered from afar?
Where was the storm that slumbered till the host
Of blood-stained Pharaoh left their trembling coast;
Then både the deep in wild commotion flow,
And heaved an ocean on their march below?

Departed spirits of the mighty dead!

Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled!
Friends of the world! restore your swords to man,
Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van!
Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone,
And make her arm puissant as your own!
O! once again to Freedom's cause return
The patriot TELL the BRUCE OF BANNOCKBURN!

DICK'Y, n., a seat behind a carriage | AT-TOR'NEY (-tur-), n., one who acts

for servants.

NA'BOB, n., a man of wealth.

PER-PET'U-AL-LY, ad., constantly.

for another, especially in law. TRAVEL-ING or TRAVEL-LING, ppr., journeying.

Avoid the habit of saying aint you for aren't (arnt) you; skersly for scarcely; ast tor asked; stoopid for stū'pid.

Doubledot. Here comes Mr. Paul Pry! I wish he was further. He is one of those idle, meddling fellows, who, having no employment, are perpetually interfer

262

THE INQUISITIVE MAN.

ing in other people's affairs. He does n't scruple to question you about your most private concerns. Then he will weary you to death with a long story about the loss of a sleeve-button, or some such idle matter. But I'll soon get rid of him. (Enter PRY.)

Pry. Ha! how d'ye do, Mr. Doubledot?

Doub. Very busy, Mr. Pry, and have scarcely time to say "Pretty well, thank you."

Pry. Well, since you're busy, I won't interrupt you; only, as I was passing, I thought I might as well drop in.

Doub. Then you may now drop out again. The London coach will be in, presently, and

Pry. No passengers by it to-day; for I have been

to the hill to look for it.

Doub. Did you expect any one by it, that you were so anxious?'

Pry. No; but I make it my business to see the coach come in every day. I can't bear to be idle.. Doub. Useful occupation, truly!

Pry. I always see it go out. Have done so these ten years.

Doub. (Aside.) Tiresome blockhead! (Aloud.) Well, good-morning to you.

Pry. Good-morning, Mr. Doubledot. does n't appear to be very full just now.

Your house

Doub. No, no; and I wish it was n't as full as it is. Pry. Ha! you are at a heavy rent-eh? I've often thought of that. No supporting such an establishment without a deal of custom. If it is n't asking an impertinent question, don't you find it rather a hard matter to make both ends meet, when Christmas comes round?

Doub. If it is n't asking an impertinent question, what's that to you?

Pry. O, nothing; only some folks have the luck of