Having, one day, in the course of his devout researches in the Bible, (for the pious Æneas himself could not exceed him in outward religion,) encountered the history of Absalom, and his melancholy end, the general, in an evil hour, issued orders for cropping the hair of both officers and men, throughout the garrison.

Now it came to pass, that among his officers was one * Kildermeester, a sturdy veteran, who had cherished, through the course of a long life, a ragged mop of hair, not a little resembling the shag of a Newfoundland dog; terminating with an immoderate queue, like the handle of a frying-pan; and queued so tightly to his head, that his eyes and mouth generally stood ajar, and his eyebrows were drawn up to the top of his forehead.

It may naturally be supposed that the possessor of so goodly an appendage, would resist, with abhorrence, an order condemning it to the shears: Samson himself could not have held his locks more sacred; and, on hearing the general orders, he discharged a tempest of veteran, soldierlike oaths, and dunder and blixums, swore he would break any man's head, who attempted to meddle with his tail, queued it stiffer than ever, and whisked it about the garrison as fiercely as the tail of a crocodile.

The eel-skin queue of old Kildermeester became instantly an affair of the greatest importance. The commander-inchief was too enlightened an officer not to perceive that the discipline of the garrison, the subordination and good order of the armies of the † Nieuw Nederlandts, the consequent safety of the whole province, and ultimately the dignity and prosperity of their high mightinesses, the lords states-general, but, above all, the dignity of the great General Von Poffenburgh, - all imperiously demanded the docking of that stubborn

queue.

He therefore determined that old Kildermeester should be publicly shorn of his glories, in the presence of the whole garrison:-the old man as resolutely stood on the defensive;

whereupon, the general, as became a great man, was highly exasperated; and the offender was arrested, and tried by a court-martial, for mutiny, desertion, and all the other list of offences noticed in the articles of war, ending with a 'viz.: wearing an eel-skin queue, three feet long, contrary to orders. * Pronounced, Kildermayster. † New Nayderlânts.

Then came arraignments, and trials, and pleadings; and the whole country was in a ferment about this unfortunate queue. As it is well known that the commander of distant frontier posts, has the power of acting pretty much after his own will, there is little doubt that the veteran would have been hanged, or shot, at least, had he not luckily fallen ill of a fever, through mere chagrin and mortification, and most flagitiously deserted from earthly command, with his beloved locks unviolated. His obstinacy remained unshaken to the very last moment, when he directed that he should be carried to his grave with his eel-skin queue sticking out of a hole i his coffin!

EXERCISE CVI.

SCENE FROM GUSTAVUS VASA.- Brooke.

Gustavus Vasa, Sivard, and Swedish Peasants.

Gustavus. Ye men of Sweden, wherefore are ye come? See ye not, yonder, how the locusts swarm,

To drink the fountains of your honor up,

And leave your hills a desert! Wretched men !
Why come ye forth? Is this a time for sport?
Or are ye met with song and jovial feast,

To welcome your new guests, your Danish visitants?
To stretch your supple necks beneath their feet,
And fawning lick the dust? Go, go my countrymen,
Each to your several mansions, trim them out,
Cull all the tedious earnings of your toil,
To purchase bondage. O Swedes! Swedes!
Heavens! are ye men, and will ye suffer this?
There was a time, my friends, a glorious time,
When had a single man of your forefathers,
Upon the frontiers, met a host in arms,

His courage scarce had turned; himself had stood,
Alone had stood, the bulwark of his country.
Come, come ye on, then. Here I take my stand
Here, on the brink, the very verge of liberty:
Although contention rise upon the clouds,

Mix heaven with earth, and roll the ruin onward,
Here will I fix, and breast me to the shock,
Till I or Denmark fall.-

Sivard. And who art thou

That thus wouldst swallow all the glory up

That should redeem the times? Behold this breast!
The sword has tilled it; and the stripes of slaves
Shall ne'er trace honor here, shall never blot
The fair inscription. Never shall the cords
Of Danish insolence bind down these arms,
That bore my royal master from the field!

Gust. Ha! Say you, brother? Were you there?
grief!-

Where liberty and Stenon fell together?

Siv. Yes, I was there. A bloody field it was, Where conquest gasped, and wanted breath to tell Its o'er-toiled triumph. There our bleeding king,There Stenon on this bosom made his bed,

Aad, rolling back his dying eyes upon me,

Soldier,' he cried, "if e'er it be thy lot

To see my gallant cousin, great Gustavus,

Tell him, for once,

that I have fought like him,

And would like him have conquered.'

Gust. O Danes, Danes!

You shall weep blood for this! Shall they not, brother? Yes, we will deal our might with thrifty vengeance,

A life for every blow; and, when we fall,

There shall be weight in 't, like the tottering towers,
That draw contiguous ruin.

Siv. Brave, brave man!

My soul admires thee.

By my father's spirit, I would not barter such a death as this

For immortality! Nor we alone,

Here be the trusty gleanings of that field,

Where last we fought for freedom: here's rich poverty,
Though wrapped in rags,— my fifty brave companions;

Who through the force of fifteen thousand foes

Bore off their king, and saved his great remains.
Gust. Why, captain,

We could but die alone, with these we'll conquer.
My fellow-laborers, too. What say ye, friends?

Oh

Shall we not strike for it?

Peasants. Death! Victory or death! No bonds! no bonds! Gust. Approach, my fellow-soldiers, your Gustavus Claims no precedence here.

Haste, brave men!

Collect your friends, to join us on the instant;
Summon our brethren to their share of conquest;
And let loud echo, from her circling hills,
SoundFreedom!' till the undulation shake
The bounds of utmost Sweden.

We may not mourn over the departure of such men. We should rather hail it as a kind dispensation of Providence, to affect our hearts with new and livelier gratitude. They were not cut off in the bloom of their days, while yet the vigor of manhood flushed their cheeks, and the harvest of glory was ungathered. They fell not, as martys fall, seeing only in dim perspective the salvation of their country. They lived to enjoy the blessings earned by their labors, and to realize all which their fondest hopes had desired. The infirmities of life stole slowly and silently upon them, leaving still behind a cheerful serenity of mind.

In peace, in the bosom of domestic affection, in the hallowed reverence of their countrymen, in the full possession of their faculties, they wore out the last remains of life, without a fear to cloud, with scarcely a sorrow to disturb, its close. The joyful day of our Jubilee came over them with refreshing influence. To them, indeed, it was a great and good day.' The morning sun shone with softened lustre on their closing eyes. Its evening beams played lightly on their brows, calm in all the dignity of death. Their spirits escaped from these frail tenements without a struggle or a groan. Their death was gentle as an infant's sleep. It was a long, lingering twi light, melting into the softest shade.

Fortunate men, so to have lived, and so to have died! Fortunate, to have gone hand in hand in the deeds of the Revolution. Fortunate, in the generous rivalry of middle life. Fortunate, in deserving and receiving the highest honors of their country. Fortunate, in old age, to have rekindled their ancient friendship with a holier flame. Fortunate, to have passed through the dark valley of the shadow of death together. Fortunate, to be indissolubly united in the memory and affections of their countrymen. Fortunate, above all, in an immortality of virtuous fame.

EXERCISE CVIII.

EVILS OF RIOT.-E. H. Chapin

Every scene of riot in America, will, no doubt, be quoted in Europe, as an argument against republicanism and toleration. We might reply, that these are not the results of freedom any more than of despotism, and that, with all their iron force and their narrow suffrages, they have their outbreaks, riots, and civil wars. Still, with them, many of these movements are dignified as efforts for freedom. The fires that light the roofs of factory towns, the yeoman's resistance to tolls, the chartist's demand for bread or blood, however contrary to the existing order, may be the endeavors of the oppressed and the needy against privileged classes or odious customs. But with us, rebellion is suicidal. It is the members warring with the body. It is freemen attacking free institutions. We all feel, that an extension of such outbreaks would be not only fatal to our own peace, but to the cause of human liberty, the principle of human equality. Let us each, then, be provided against such a result, by cherishing the deepest reverence for social order; by the maintenance, at all sacrifices of feeling, of the great authority that binds and secures all our interests.

My friends, I am no alarmist, nor disposed to predict the failure of our great experiment for freedom and human rights, here, in the Western World. But let us not be insanely con