And were much advancing

In dancing!

*

The evening now grew dark and still!
The whip-poor-will

Sung pensively on every tree;
And straight I fell into a reverie
Upon that man of gallantry and pith,
Captain Smith:"

system is applied to education, and has had all the effect which its partisans could desire, by producing a most extensive equality of ignorance. The Abbé Raynal, in his prophetic admonitions to the Americans, directing their attention very strongly to learned establishments, says, "When the youth of a country are seen depraved, the nation is on the decline." I know not what the Abbé Raynal would pronounce of this nation now, were he alive, to know the morals of the young students at Williamsburgh! But when he wrote, his countrymen had not yet introduced the "doctrinam deos spernentem" into America.

* John Smith, a famous traveller, and by far the most enterprising of the first settlers in Virginia. How much he was indebted to the interesting young Pocahuntas, daughter of King Powhatan, may be seen in all the histories of this colony. In the dedication of his own work to the Duchess of Richmond, he thus enumerates his bonnes fortunes. "Yet my comfort is, that heretofore honourable and vertuous Ladies, and comparable but among themselves, have offered me rescue and protection in my greatest dangers. Even in forraine parts I have felt reliefe from that sex. The beauteous Lady Trabigzanda, when I was a slave to the Turks, did all she could to secure me. When I overcame the Bashaw of Nalbrits in Tartaria, the charitable Lady Callamata supplyed my necessities. In the utmost of my

And very strange it seem'd to me,
That, after having kiss'd so grand a
Dame as Lady Trabigzanda,

By any chance he

Could take a fancy

To a nymph, with such a copper front as
Pocahuntas!

And now, as through the gloom so dark,
The fire-flies scatter'd many a fairy spark,*
To one, that glitter'd on the quaker's bonnet,
I wrote a sonnet.

THIS morning, when the earth and sky
Were burning with the blush of spring,
I saw thee not, thou humble fly,

Nor thought upon thy gleaming wing.

extremities, that blessed Pokahontas, the great King's daughter of Virginia, oft saved my life."

Davis, in his whimsical travels through America, has manufactured into a kind of romance the loves of Mr. Rolfe with this "opaci maxima mundi" Pocahuntas.

* The lively and varying illumination, with which these fireflies light up the woods at night, gives quite an idea of enchantment. "Puis ces mouches, se developpant de l'oscurité de ces arbres et s'approchant de nous, nous les voyions sur les orangers voisins, qu'ils mettoient tout en feu, nous rendant la vue de leurs beaux fruits dorés que la nuit avoit ravie, &c. &c." See L'Histoire des Antilles, Art. 2, Chap. iv, Liv. I.

But now the skies have lost their hue,
And sunny lights no longer play,
I see thee, and I bless thee too,

For sparkling o'er the dreary way.
Oh! let me hope, that thus for me,

When life and love shall lose their bloom,

Some milder joys may come, like thee,
To light, if not to warm, the gloom,
And-

Two lines more had just completed it;
But, at the moment I repeated it,

Our stage,

(Which good Brissot, with brains so critical
And sage,

Calleth the true "machine political)"*
With all its load of uncles, scholars, nieces,
Together jumbled,

Tumbled

Into a rut, and fell to pieces!

"The American stages are the true political carriages." Brissot's Travels, Letter 6th.-There is nothing more amusing than the philosophical singeries of these French travellers. In one of the letters of Clavière, prefixed to those of Brissot, upon their plan for establishing a republic of philosophers in some part of the western world, he intreats Brissot to be particular in chusing a place "where there are no musquitoes :" forsooth, ne quid respublica detrimenti caperet!

Good night!-my bed must be,
By this time, warm enough for me,
Because I find old Ephraim Steady,
And Miss his niece are there already!
Some cavillers

Object to sleep with fellow-travellers;
But

Saints protect the pretty quaker,
Heaven forbid that I should wake her!

THE VASE.

THERE was a vase of odour lay
For many an hour by Beauty's bed,
So sweet, that Love went every day
To breathe the scented air it sned.

And not an eye had ever seen

The fragrant charm its lid conceal'd; Oh Love! how happy 'twould have been, If thou hadst ne'er that charm reveal'd!

But love like every other boy,

Must know the spell that lurks within; He would have broke the crystal toy,

But Beauty murmur'd "twas a sin!"

He swore, with many a tender plea,
That neither heaven nor earth forbad it;

She told him, Virtue kept the key,
And look'd as if she wish'd he had it!

He stole the key when Virtue slept,
(E'en she can sleep, if Love but ask it)
And Beauty sigh'd, and Beauty wept,
While silly Love unlock'd the casket.

Oh dulcet air that vanish'd then!
Can Beauty's sigh recal thee ever?
Can Love, himself, inhale again

A breath so precious? never, never!

Go, maiden, weep-the tears of woe
By Beauty to Repentance given,
Though bitterly on earth they flow,

Shall turn to fragrant balm in heaven!

THE WREATH AND THE CHAIN.

I BRING thee, love, a golden chain,
I bring thee too a flowery wreath;

The gold shall never wear a stain,

The flow'rets long shall sweetly breathe!

Come, tell me which the tie shall be

To bind thy gentle heart to me.

M