Слике страница
PDF
ePub

VOL. I.

POLITICAL.

DEVOTED TO POLITICKS AND BELLES LETTRES,

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 2, 1814.

Great-Britain to yield more than the great
and truly patriotick Washington asked. In
the midst of a higher degree of prosperity
than any nation on earth then enjoyed, our
government began a system of hostile conduct
against Great-Britain; advanced, under the
countenance of Bonaparte, step by step in vio-
lence, until in June 1812, Mr. Madison openly

THE destruction of French despotism has already produced a striking and happy effect in this country. The advocates of Mr. Madison and his administration, appalled at the prospect before them, and the dangers into which they have plunged the nation, are al-proclaimed war. ready abandoning their chief. The defection, on a very important point, appears universal. Where is there now any body of men, or even an individual writer, who will pledge his life, his fortune, and his sacred honour to the President, to support him in the claims, for which he made and has continued this war? Mark the change! It is the first good fruit of that glorious event, at which we have been rejoicing. If there is a sturdy democrat in the United States, who will now say that the war must be continued until Great-Britain will permit our merchant flag to protect British subjects, let him say so. We should like to see Mr. Madison annoyed by the echo of his recent doctrines. Is the possession of the Canadas still essential to the security of the United States must these be a sine quibus non condition of peace? Such has been the cry; but it has passed over the mountains, to be heard no more.

The account which our administration must render to the people is à plain and serious one. We have the Treaty, usually called Jay's Treaty before us-its ample provisions were ours; we enjoyed them, and might have been in the tranquil enjoyment of them at this moment. Under a promise to gain more, the administration has plunged us in war. ONE HUNDRED MILLIONS OF DOLLARS will not replace what hostile measures and war have already cost the treasury of the United States. To settle the account with the people, and avoid their curses, Mr. Madison and his party, whenever they make peace, must show what boon they acquire worth so high a price. By comparing the treaty now to be made with Mr. Jay's, the democratick party must stand or fall. They have chosen their own experiment-they have been lavish in promise and we have been deep in suffering. We hold them to their engagements, and shall never cease to throw them in their

We should be gratified indeed to find some
of our leading editors, who have been so intiteeth, if they are not fulfilled.
mately acquainted with the President's pur-
poses; who have trumpeted his firmness in
what they called his patriotick principles ;-
we should be glad to have them favour us with
a glance at the grand points, which they will
now insist he must obtain, in addition to what
we enjoyed before the declaration of war.
Not a syllable of this.-The rallying word is
now defence-defence of our national territory.
They perhaps have the folly to imagine, that
in obcying the first dictate of nature, we shall
cheerfully spill our blood, (as spill our blood
we must, if the war continue) and never in-
quire, what brought "the enemy" upon us. It
is undoubtedly hoped, that all doctrines will be
kept out of sight, by the approach of a common
danger and that relief, whatever be the con-
ditions, will bring to the authors of it, the
thanks, love, and confidence of a devoted people.
Such calculations are vain-they will cer-
tainly be disappointed. The days of our pros-
perity have not yet passed from our minds.
We remember the rights we enjoyed, when
we were told that we
were oppressed;"
that, at the hand of Great-Britain, we had
"drunk the cup of humiliation to the very
dregs!" We remember her desire to per-
petuate the excellent Treaty of Amity and
Commerce, made by Washington, and Mr.
Jefferson's refusal to renew it, on the pretence
that we must have new concessions. We re-
member the repeated attempts of the British
government to settle all misunderstandings,
and preserve the friendly relation which had
subsisted so happily for many years between
the two countries-all however is vain. Our
immense commerce-our annually increasing
revenue the riches flowing into the United
States from every quarter of the world were
all to be sacrificed, that we might compel

HOW TYRANTS FALL!
NEXT to Bonaparte, perhaps a greater ty
rant never existed than Nero Claudius Cesar.
The accounts of the conduct of Bonaparte,
since the allies approached Paris, afford a
striking parallel with the history of his infa-
mous prototype, as transmitted by the historian
Seutonius, from whose biography of Nero, I
have selected the following passages.

"Soon after, he received advice that Galba
and Spain had declared against him; upon
which, falling down in a violent agony of mind,
he lay a long time speechless, and apparently

dead. As soon as he recovered from the state
of stupefaction, he tore his clothes, and beat
his head, crying out" I am ruined!" His
nurse endeavouring to comfort him, and telling
him that the like things had happened to other
princes before him, he replied," I am be-
yond all example miserable, who have lost an
empire whilst I am yet living."

་་

"Meanwhile, upon the arrival of the news
that the rest of the armies had declared
against him, he tore to pieces the letters,
which were delivered to him at dinner, over-
threw the table, and dashed with violence
against the ground two favourite cups, which
he called Homer's, because some of that poet's
verses were cut upon them: He then went
into the Servilian gardens, and thence des-
patching a trusty freedman to Ostia, with or-
ders to make ready a fleet, he endeavoured to
prevail with some tribunes and centurions of
the guards to attend him in his flight. But
some of them having no great inclination to
comply, others absolutely refusing, and one of
them crying out aloud,

Usque adeone mori miserum est?
Say is it then so sad a thing to die?

NO. XXVII.

he was in great perplexity whether he should submit himself to Galba, or apply to the Parthians for protection; or else appear in pub lick, dressed in mourning, and upon the rostra, in the most piteous manner, beg pardon for his past misdemeanours; and if he could not prevail, to request them to grant him, at least, the government of Egypt. But it is conjectured that he durst not venture upon this project, for fear of being torn to pieces, before he could get to the forum.

His furious impulse subsiding, he wished for some place of privacy, where he might collect his thoughts; and his freedman Phaon offering him a country house of his, slipping on an old weather cloak, with his head muffled up in it, and his handkerchief before his face, he mounted a horse, with four persons only to attend him, among whom Sporus was one. Being immediately much frightened with an earthquake, and a flash of lightning darting full in his face, he heard from the contiguous camp the shouts of the soldiers, wishing his destruction, and prosperity to Galba. He likewise heard a traveller they met with upon the road, say" they are in pursuit of Nero." Uncovering his face upon occasion of his horse's boggling at a carcase that lay in the road, he was known and saluted by an old soldier who had been discharged out of the guards.

At last arriving at his retreat, creeping upon his hands and knees, though a hole that was made for him, he lay down in the first room he came at, upon a poor bed, with an old coverlet thrown over it; and being both hungry and thirsty, he refused some coarse bread that was brought him, but drank a little water.

Every body about him now pressed him to save himself from the indignities which were ready to befal hinu Letters were brought in by a servant belonging to Phaon. He snatched them out of his hand, and there found "That he had been declared an enemy by the senate, and was sought for, that he might be punished according to the ancient practice among the Romans."

One while he begged Sporus to begin a wailing lamentation; another while he entreated that some of them would set him an example to kill himself; sometimes again he condemned his own want of resolution, in these words" I live basely and shamefully this does not become Nero-this does not become thee. Thou oughtest under such circumstances to have thy wits about thee. Come, courage, man.!"

The rest we omit, until we hear from the island of Elba.

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

of Bonaparte affords an awful, an instructive, and we trust a permanently useful lesson to the world. Its greatest utility will not arise from its tendency to check the ambition of men just like himself-few such appear, and still fewer at a time and under circumstances, so favourable to such designs, as he conceived and effected. But the ignominious fall of this aspiring monster, armed as he was against disaster, by every means that is generally considered efficient in preserving power, teaches the petty tyrants of mankind, the mere offspring of faction, who rise to place and consequence by arraying the vicious against the virtuous part of mankind, that distinctions thus purchased cannot be long maintained.

GENERAL REGISTER.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 2, 1814.

'EUROPEAN. The present week has furnished nothing from Europe of a later date,than was previously received.

DOMESTICK The retaliatory prisoners in the United States are released, by order of government, and are now considered only as ordinary prisoners of war.

A draught of eight companies has been made from the Boston Brigade of Militia, for the defence of this town. Term of service 30 days.

The British garrison at La Cole (the famous stone mill) has been reinforced by a thousand men from St. John's; and it is reported, that 6000 men are at Kingston, ready to embark.

It is again reported from Burlington, that the British and American armies are encamped in sight of each other-that there have been some skirmishes of outposts and that a battle was momently expected.

LITERARY AND MISCELLANEOUS.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

HABITS.

Here the mind has a partial, but not a permanent authority. A person may determine to take but two meals a day, and custom will reconcile his physical propensities to the rule. Let him be long habituated to three or four, and this man cannot restrict himself to two, at choice, without great pain,-perhaps not without endangering health.

Man may subsist on vegetables alone. But if accustomed to animal food, he cannot live without it. If persuaded, then, that it is a crime to eat flesh, as many have been, he must go on sinning, or perish.

Millions have enjoyed long life, who never tasted any liquid, after infancy, but water. There are millions, living within what are considered the rules of temperance, who would exist but a short time, under such a restriction. The Hindu must have his betel root-the Turk his opium-the sailor his tobacco, or they all pine and loathe their food. There is no reasoning in the question the will may issue its edicts; but the animal is not to be controlled by its authority. I have seen, and probably every man has seen, unfortunate victims of intemperate habits, who appeared to be strongly impressed with a sense of the crime of brutalizing the human soul-who have been convinced of the fatal tendency of their accus. tomed indulgences-who have contemplated as approaching events, the loss of their own health, property, character and life-the pov erty, wretchedness, and disgrace of a beloved wife and children-who will receive your expostulations in good part, and with tears of gratitude--I have seen such persons, and those too possessing, in every other amiable, engaging, tender dispositions; bril liant imagination-vigorous understanding and, what is still more extraordinary, an ardent piety of sentiment, and a firm belief in all the important doctrines of the christian faith-yet yield to their sensual propensities-and PERISH, in the conscious commission of a crime, which they never ceased to detest and deplore !!

respect,

How often do we see persons, who possess This fatal absurdity of conduct is rather to by nature strong powers of mind, and who be attributed to a physical law of our animal have been educated in the best moral princi- constitution, than to moral depravity; and were ples, acquire and yield to habits injurious to this better understood I believe the evil would comfort, health, and reputation. We are as- more rarely occur. Persons well guarded in tonished at this seeming paradox; we wonder correct principles are apt to rely too confidentthat the operations of the will become so per-ly on their principles. They know they must "verted, where we should expect they would be regulated by the dictates of an enlightened understanding.

eat and drink; they do not expect to control hunger or thirst by volition; but they imagine these are the only propensities that nature has This is a very important subject, and one made absolute, and that temperance in these is always practicable, while the mind is uncor which I think has not generally been correctly represented. It appears to me that moralistsrupted. In this belief, they yield to the imhave treated of the operations of the mind, without a sufficient regard to the physical properties of the body. When they would deter us from reprehensible conduct, they address themselves to our reason, as moral agents. They expect to fortify us against errour, by explaining the nature of virtue and vice, and their respective consequences. This is so far right-but their intentions should not

be limited to the regulation of the moral sense. The free-agency of man is not so absolute as it is generally supposed, and it is to this defect, originating in the close connexion between the body and mind, that the theory and the practice of so many are found at variance.

In the first place, every one will grant, that it is not optional with a man, whether he will hunger or not. He is so constituted by nature, that if not supplied with food, at certain intervals, a sense of pain ensues, and shortly the desire of relief, if the means are present, becomes irresistible. But at what intervals?

pulse of accidental circumstances; to gratify a convivial humour-to soothe anxiety-to relieve a transient indisposition, are the insidious pretexts, under which they inadvertently impose upon themselves, and sacrifice their virtuous freedom. That excess, which is arrived at by slow approaches, is infinitely the most dangerous; for it is thus, the habit becomes a truth, which every observing physician has law of the animal economy. It is a melancholy witnessed, that persons are sometimes found in excess to an untimely grave, or sink as cerwith only the miserable alternative, to go on tainly, and perhaps more suddenly, by an attempt at an impracticable reformation.

It may seem, that these remarks only apply to instances, which very seldom happen, and It is true, the evil,

are therefore of little use.

com:non

in its fullest extent, is only observable in extreme cases; but nothing is more than habitual indulgences, inconsistent with a prudent economy, and unfavourable to long

life, to which there can be no motive, but an uneasy sensation, resembling ordinary hunger or thirst, which results from privation of that which custom, not original nature, has rendered necessary. The moral objection to such practices, in their incipient state, is not strong, and therefore easily overlooked.

I am not certain, but that many other vices might be enumerated, as the involuntary subservience of mind to matter-or rather of the moral to the physical constitution, perverted by indulgence, and more affecting the sovereignty of the will, than is generally imagined. But this I leave to the observation and reflection of the reader.

The lesson I would inculcate is this-Correct views alone are no security. Sensual indulgence may become a physical law, which reason cannot control, and should therefore be kept, with rigid circumspection, under the strict rules of temperance. It is of the utmost importance to guard against the first deviation; for every divergent step renders return more difficult; not so much perhaps from the danger of mental acquiescence, as from the laws of animal nature, which the convictions of the mind cannot affect.

THE WRITER, N. VIII.

Ir was a saying of the great marshal Turenne, that "no man is a hero to his valet de chambre ;" and, it might be added, that no man ought to be. Whoever would enjoy the good will and good wishes of his fellow men must not strain too hard to keep above them. Whoever wishes for the pleasure, which is derived from social intercourse (and what pleasure is equal to it), must endeavour to cultivate the good opinion, and the friendship of those around bim, by occasionally coming down to their level; and encourage an ingenuous familiarity, by that affability, condescension, and affec ted humility, if you please, which spreads a charm around the prince or the private man

To exact too much, is often the occasion of our getting nothing. The man, who every where demands even the meed of praise that is due to him, may find it yielded with reluctance; whilst he that "wears his honours with meekness" is sure to receive the full measure of his merits; with the additional satisfaction of secing them bestowed with pleasure, and as free-will offerings of the heart, rather than the cold effects of obliga tion and duty. If we are always to play the great man or the hero, and cannot bear to be approached but with a sort of reverence or servile respect, we shall soon find that not only our immediate connexions, but all with whom we have any intercourse whatever, will grow tired of this kind of slavery; and as they throw off their chains, the first proof they give that they have done so, will be to despise and ridicule the attempt to keep them on.

There are few truly great men, whose history does not record, as instances to embellish traits of humility and playful innocence, withand complete their characters, some amiable out which, we should not take so deep an interest in them; and there is no character that appears less amiable, and none that can so hardly be endured, as that stiff reserve which discourages, and that self-sufficiency and haughtiness which seems contemptuously to repel, all confidence and familiarity. Julius Cæsar won more by his inviting and courteous manners, than by his sword. It is said also of the great Duke of Marlborough, that he could refuse favours with a better grace, than other men could bestow them; and that he was so practised in the art of pleasing, that no

man ever went to him with a request, but he came away pleased and satisfied, whether his request was granted or not. Henry the Fourth of France was another of those characters, who could come down from the eminence of human greatness, and sport in the humble vale of friendship and domestick joys; the last Spectator has given us an example of this, sufficient for my purpose. Similar traits are recorded of Lorenzo de Medicis, who, amidst all the splendour that surrounds the patriot, the warriour, and the man of letters, could divest himself of these rays of glory; and is of ten seen, with equal interest, in the more mild and placid light of the playful friend and familiar companion.

neighbour Indians, because they happened to
come within gun-shot of his great wigwam.
This overbearing disposition of Shamut lost
him much of the good will his bravery had
acquired; and the sachems of the village were
obliged to admonish him, and remind him, that
though brave, he ought not to be arrogant
nor discourteous.

THE FLASH OF THE SEA.
Ut mare, quom magnei conmorunt æquora ventei,
Vortitur in canos candenti marmore fluctus.
LUCRETIUS.

Thus, when loud tempests tear the tortur'd main,
The dashing surge is rob'd in dazzling white-

GOOD'S TRANSLATION.

THERE is not perhaps, in nature, a more splendid and sublime spectacle, than that to which Lucretius here alludes. Few persons have been abroad on the ocean, who

tinued; but in the night-time, when steering an easy course between the third and fourth degree of latitude, the fire above described assumed a form entirely white, and similar to the light of the noon, which, at that time, was not above the horizon. The upper part of the small waves, with which the whole surface of the sea was curled, seemed like a sheet of silver; while on the preceding evening it had resembled a sheet of reddish gold. I cannot express how much I was amused and interested by this spectacle.

"The following night, it was still more beautiful. The ship had cast anchor at a considerable distance from the land, waiting for the new moon, in order to enter the harbour of Cayenne.Let the reader imagine to himself a sheet of silver, a quarter of league in breadth, expanded in an instant, and shining with a vivid light. Such was the effect of these billows two or three of which only reach

Instances of the like nature might be mul-
tiplied almost without end from among the
great; but when we come to contrast them,
we must descend to a different class and order
in society; for those, who are afraid of hurt-
ing their dignity by the common acts of ordi-
nary life, have seldom a capacity to mise
themselves above ordinary men. It would not
perhaps be entertaining to my readers, to
search for examples, which, although they
might illustrate my position, would expose the
defects of our common nature. What I wish
to recommend is, the injunction of the chief
Apostle, that we should "not think of our-
selves more highly than we ought." I cannot
however omit the following anecdote, which
will shew, how much we expose ourselves to
the shafts of ridicule, when we assume a con-
sequence, which does not really belong to us.
Imagine a night, dark as Erebus--the
In the revolutionary war, our troops, upon shrouds howling with the gale-the ship
some occasion, were hastily throwing up a cracking under the pressure of the tempest;
breast-work or battery; it was necessary that and dashing through an ocean of flame.
all hands should be employed; General Put-to these, the alarm, which such a scene, at the
nam, seeing a wheelbarrow of sand, and a man
first sight, must naturally cause, and I know
standing by it idle, said to him, "soldier, of nothing on shore calculated to excite such
wheel out that barrow." “I am not a sol-emotions of the sublime.
dier," says the man, "I'm a corporal ;"—" O,"
said the General, "then hold my cane, whilst
I wheel it out myself."

have not observed more or less of this wonder-ed us, before they broke.
ful phenomenon, though it is but rarely exhib-
ited, in its highest magnificence. It is most
remarkable in warm climates, and probably no
where more so, than off Cape Hatteras, in the
Gulf Stream. The current is considerably
rapid-the water is warm-in crossing the
stream here, mariners generally experience
what they call a chopping sea, owing to the
conflict between the tide and the winds, which
are almost perpetually boisterous-and the
water is highly charged with the matter, what-
ever it be, which produces this brilliant effect.

"There is scarcely a sea, in which the phenomenon of this light is not sometimes observed; but there are certain parts where it is much more luminous than in others. In gen eral, it is much more so in warm countries, and between the tropicks,than any where else; it is remarkably luminous on the coasts of Guyana, in the environs of the Cape Verd Islands, near the Maldives, and the coasts of

Add

The great philosopher, Dr. Hutton, in his translation of Ozanam's Recreations, takes occasion to describe appearances, which he had witnessed, on the coast of South America. The passage will amuse many of my readers; and to this I subjoin, an attempt to account for this phenomenon, from the Gentleman's Magazine. I think it very imperfect and unsatisfactory, and should be happy, if any philosophical correspondent, would offer a more sufficient theory.

"I do not recollect that we saw the sea luminous till our arrival between the tropicks; but at that period, and some weeks before we reached land, I almost constantly observed that the ship's wake was interspersed with a multitude of luminous sparks, and so much the brighter as the darkness was more perfect. The water round the rudder was, at length, entirely brilliant; and this light extended, gradually diminishing, along the whole wake. remarked also, that if any of the ropes were immersed in the water, they produced the

The story of old Shamut was very familiar with the first settlers, and is often told about the country where he lived, to the present day. Shamut was a brave Indian, but he had too great an itch for prerogative, and was too apt to assume more authority than he had discretion to use, and more than his office gave him a right to exercise. He was chosen captain, and in his eagerness to establish his consequence, and shew he was worthy to command, knocked down the first Indian he met ; and when asked the reason why he did so, "to shew mine power," says Shamut. He went out a hunting, and killed a monstrous wolf; it was a brave and wonderful feat; the beast was so large, he could not drag him in, but he cut off his ears, and those were a sufficient trophy, and proof that he had destroyed him. Shamiut was received with shouts and great joy by the whole tribe, and all the villages made great pow-wows to his honour, and gave him as much samp and succotash as he "But it was near land that this spectacle could eat. This lifted him up as high as the appeared in all its beauty. It blew a fresh gale, hills, and he began to disdain all intercourse and the whole sea was covered with small with common Indians In one of his haughty waves, which broke, after having rolled for moments, he returned a wampuni that had some time. When a wave broke, a flash of been sent him by one of his old friends, be-light was produced; so that the whole sea, as cause the fellow had told the story of his killing the wolf not quite so much to his honour as some others had told it; and he declared he would never take a wampum of him again. He had a large wigwam, and became so disdainful, that he used to keep himself shut up in it, and would let nobody, without a dear of difficulty, come in to see him; and 'one day ordered his attendants to shoot some of his

ai

same effect.

far as the eye could reach, seemed to be cov-
ered with fire, alternately kindled and extin-
guished. This fire, in the open sea, that is, at
the distance of fifty or sixty leagues from the
coasts of America, had a reddish cast. I have
made this remark, because I do not know that
any person ever examined the phenomena,
which I am about to describe.

[ocr errors]

"When we were in the green water, the spectacle changed. The same fresh gale con

Malabar.

"A phenomenon so very surprising, could not fail to excite the attention of philosophers; but till lately, they confined themselves to vague explanations; they ascribed it to sulphur, to nitre, and other things, of which there is not a single atom in the sea; and they then imagined that they had reasoned

well."

We take the following speculation on this subject from the Gentleman's Magazine :

THE lucid appearance of the sea, seems to arise from two causes. 1 Phosphorescent living animals. 2 Animal matter, phosphorescent after death.

1. Phosphorescent living animals have been proved, by the most undoubted authority, to cause, in some cases, the luminous appearance of the sea. Professor Mitchill gives us an account of an appearance of this sort, to which he was witness, and which was caused by animalculæ, (chiefly mollusca animals) some of which, he presumed the nereis noctiluca, were so small and pellucid, as, with the naked eye alone, not to be distinguished by day light, in a glass of water. But on agitating the water in the dark, beautiful emissions of light were observed. The writer informs us, that a long continuance of light cannot be emitted by the same animal. "Therefore the light, emitted by the motion of the waves, is caused by a succession of animals, each of which, on being stimulated, evolves in its turn, a certain proportion and duration of light."

We are also informed by M. Peron, of a luminous appearance of the sea, like a vast sheet of phosphorus, floating on the waves; but which proved, on a nearer approach, to be an immense number of zoophites, borne by the water at different depths. Those which were on the surface, resembled great cylinders of iron; whilst those which were deepest, resembled red-hot cannon balls.

2. Animal matter, phosphorescent after death. This phosphorescence at a certain time after death, but before putrefaction, commences. Canton observed that sea water became luminous after remaining sometime over the substance of a fresh herring. Dr. Hulme discovered, that saline solutions, such as sul

[ocr errors]

phate of soda, muriate of soda, and sulphate of magnesia, were possessed of the same property. About four drams of the substance of a fresh herring, being allowed to remain for two days, in a solution of two drams of sulphate of magnesia, in two ounces of cold water; on examining the liquor a lucid ring was observed on the surface, and on agitation the whole became, beautifully luminous. In a little time, the luminous matter subsided; but by agitation, it again became luminous. The parts of the fish, exposed to the air, were luminous; while the parts not so exposed remained dark. The luminous appearance was impaired by cold, and more splendid by a moderate heat; but destroyed by the heat of boiling water.

Hence the luminous matter may, during the heat of summer, by the dashing of the waves, be brought to the surface, exposed to the atmosphere, and made beautifully, but transiently phosphorescent.

MONTESQUIEU.

EXTRACTED.

A YOUNG man, named Robert, sat alone in A his boat, in the harbour of Marseilles. stranger had stept in, and taken his seat near him, but quickly rose again; observing, that, since the master had disappeared, he would take another boat." This, Sir, is mine," said Robert; Would you sail without the harbour?"" I meant only to move about in the bason, and enjoy the coolness of this fine evening. But I cannot believe you are a sailor." "Nor am I-yet on Sundays and holidays I

act the bargeman, with a view to make up a sum.". "What! covetous at your age!-Your looks had almost prepossessed me in your favour."" Alas! Sir, did you know my situation, you would not blame me." Well perhaps I am mistaken-let us take our little cruise of pleasure, and acquaint me with your history."

The stranger having resumed his seat, the dialogue, after a short pause, proceeded thus: "I perceive, young man, you are sad what grieves you thus "My father, Sir, groans in fetters, and I cannot ransom him. He earned a livelihood by petty brokerage, but, in an evil hour, embarked for Smyrna, to superintend, in person, the delivery of a cargo, in which he had a concern. The vessel was captured by a Barbary corsair, and my father was conducted to Tetuan, where he is now a slave. They refuse to let him go for less than 2000 crowns, a sum which far exceeds our scanty means. However, we do our best-my mother and sister work day snd night-I ply hard at my occupation of a journeyman jeweller, and, as you perceive, make the most I can on Sundays and holidays. I had resolved to put myself in my father's stead; but, my mother apprised of my design, and dreading the double privation of a husband and only son, requested the Levant captains to refuse me a passage."- "Pray do you ever hear from your father? Under what name does he pass?Or what is his master's address"-" His master is overseer to the royal garden at Féz-and my father's name is Robert at Tetuan, as at Marseilles."-" Robert-overseer of the royal gardens ?"-" Yes, sir,"-" I am touched with your misfortunes-but venture to predict their termination."

Night drew on apace. The unknown, upon landing, thrust into young Robert's hand a purse, containing eight double louis d'or, with ten crowns in silver,and instantly disappeared. Six weeks had passed since this adventure, and each returning sun bore witness to the

unremitting exertions of the good family. As
they sat one day at their unsavory meal of
bread and dried almonds, old Robert entered
the apartment; in a garb little suited to a fu-
gitive prisoner, tenderly embraced his wife
and children; and thanked them, with tears of
gratitude, for the fifty louis they had caused to
be remitted to him, on his sailing from Tetuan,
his free passage, and a comfortable supply of
wearing apparel. His astonished relatives eyed
one another in silence. At length, Madame
Robert, suspecting her son had secretly con-
certed the whole plan, recounted the various
instances of his zeal. "Six thousand livres,"
continued she, "is the sum we wanted-and
we had already procured somewhat more than
the half, owing chiedy to his industry. Some
friends, no doubt, have assisted him upon an
emergency like the present." A gloomy sug-
gestion crossed the father's mind. Turning
suddenly to his son, and eyeing him with the
sternness of distraction, "unfortunate boy!
what have you done? How can I be indebted
to you for my freedom, and not regret it?
How could you effect my ransom, without
your mother's knowledge, unless at the ex-
pense of virtue? I tremble at the thought of
filial affection having betrayed you into guilt.
Tell the truth at once-and let us all die, if
you have forfeited your integrity."-" Calm
your apprehensions, my dearest father," cried
the son, embracing him." No, I am not un-
worthy of such a parent, though fortune has
denied me the satisfaction of proving the full
strength of my attachment-I am not your de-
liverer-but I know who he is.-Recollect,
mother, the unknown gentleman, who gave me
the purse.
He was particular in his inquiries.
Should I pass my life in the pursuit, I must
endeavour to meet with him, and invite him
to contemplate the fruits of his beneficence."
He then related to his father all that passed in
the pleasure-boat, and removed every distres-
sing suspicion.

Restored to the bosom of his family, Robert
again partook of their joys, prospered in his
dealings, and saw his children comfortably es-
tablished; at last, on a Sunday morning, as his
son sauntered on the quay, he recognized his
benefactor, clasped his knees, and entreated
him, as his guardian angel, as the saviour of a
father and a family, to share the happiness of
his own creation. The stranger again disap-
peared in the crowd-but, reader, this stran
ger was-MONTESQUIEU!!

POETRY.

SELECTED.

WRITTEN AT THE BED-SIDE OF A SICK IN.
FANT.

Aн, dear one! while thy suffering form I see

So pale, extended on thy bed of pain,
What a sad tale thy dumb grief tells my heart!
Yet sure 'twere kind to let thee thus depart,

Nor call thee to this cheating life again.

For should'st thou live, sweet cherub! who can tell
What woes, what vice, may future years impart ?
And what could I, to soothe thy misery,
But cling around thy neck, and weep with thee,
And, weeping, load afresh thy breaking heart!
See cold neglect repress each rising thought,

Or see thy youth's first hopes meet swift decay;
The roses on thy mind-illumin'd face
Wither'd, and every soul-enchanting grace

Thrown, like a weed, a worthless weed, away.

Or crush'd by Poverty's indurate hand,

Or Labour's ruder grasp, thy rising powers;
Or worse, some sworn seducer stain thy mind,
Whilst thou, to thine own killing thoughts resign'd,
Weep'st out the remnant of thy wretched hours!
Oh, better, better far to see thee dead !

Nay better could I bear to see thee die ;

Could sooner take thee in these trembling arms,
And offer up to heaven thy infant charms,

Than see thee scorn'd by each insulting eye!
Thou, God of mercy, justice, truth, and love,

To whom, at Misʼry's midnight hour, I pray,
Who see'st that quiv'ring cheek, who see'st these tears,
These restless thoughts, these agonizing fears,
"Whate'er thou will'st, unargu'd I obey."

SONG FROM AFAR.

TRANSLATED FROM A GERMAN POEM.

"WHEN in the last faint light of ev'ning
A smiling form glides softly by,
A gentle sigh its bosom heaving,

While thou in oaken grove dost lie ;-
It is the spirit of thy friend,
Which whispers" all thy cares shall end.”
When in the mild moon's peaceful twilight
Foreboding thoughts and dreams arise,
And at the solemn hour of midnight
Paint fairy scenes before thine eyes :

The poplars give a rustling sound,

It is my spirit hovers round.

When deep in fields of ancient story,.

Thou hang'st enraptur'd o'er the page
That gives and takes the mond of glory,—
Feel'st thou a breath that fans thy rage?
And does the trembling torch burn pale ?-
My spirit drinks with thine the tale.
Hear'st thou, when silver stars are shining,
A sound on Eol's harp divine,
Now the wild wind full chords combining,
Now softly murm'ring "Ever thine"?
Then careless sleep,—to guard thy peace,
My watchful spirit ne'er shall cease."

RELIGION.

'Tis this, my friend, that makes our morning bright
"Tis this that gilds the horror of our night,
When wealth forsakes us, and when friends are few-
When friends are faithless, or when foes pursue :
'Tis this that wards the blow, or stills the smart-
Disarms affliction, or repels its dart;
Within the breast bids purest rapture rise,
Bids smiling conscience spread her cloudless skies.

When pleasure fascinates the mental sight
Affliction purifies the visual ray,
Religion hails the drear, the untried night,
That shuts, forever shuts, life's doubtful day.

[blocks in formation]

DEVOTED TO POLITICKS AND BELLES LETTRES.

VOL. I.

POLITICAL.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.
THE PRESIDENT'S PROCLAMATION.

|

BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 9, 1814.

for the fact; but this is not more incorrect,
than the implied doctrine is erroneous. A
perfect obstacle to all ingress and egress is
not contemplated by national law, as essential
to the justification of a blockade. Such a re-
quisition would be almost universally imprac-
ticable, and therefore absurd.

THE last act of the President of the United States is a proclamation, pronouncing the present blockade of the American coast, by the British, contrary to the law of nations, and It is true, that portus clausus is the term "strictly ordering and instructing all the pub- used by Grotius for a port blockaded, and nei"lick armed vessels of the United States, and ther he nor any other writer on the law of na"all private armed vessels, commissioned as tions, has gone into a very particular definition "privateers, or with letters of marque and re, of what is to be understood by a blockade ; « prisal, not to interrupt, detain, or otherwise but the practice of all nations, shews the con"molest or vex, any vessels whatever, belong-struction to be, the employment of such a "ing to neutral powers, or the subjects or cit- force as to render all intercourse extremely "izens thereof, which vessels shall be actually dangerous. We ourselves have practised up"bound and proceeding to any port or place on this principle, in our war with some of the "within the jurisdiction of the United States; Barbary states. It will not be pretended, that “ but on the contrary, to render all such ves- | during the whole existence of our blockade of | "sels all the aid and kind offices which they Tripoli, no vessel could either enter or depart. "may need or require." But to prevent unnecessary dispute on this subject, we do not undertake to say the blockade of ports of the United States is so strict as a rational construction of the principle requires. We only say, if it be otherwise, it is for neutrals to complain-and we add, as matter of “ notoriety," that our ports are by no means so unguarded as Mr. Madison asserts.

As far as we have been able to learn, this proclamation has much perplexed the publick mind, as to the intention, with which it was issued. We have found no one able to suggest any wise or useful purpose it can effect.

It is, in the first place, a pitiful imitation of the policy of the fallen Bonaparte. But what was policy in him, considering what a docile, devoted government he had to deal with in that of the United States, is folly in Mr. Madison, when in his war against England, there is no such humble neutral, to be directed by the edicts of a foreign power. If the blockade of the British be unwarranted by publick law, it is no violation of our rights-it is no concern of Mr. Madison's. It is the exclusive business of the neutrals affected by it. They all probably consider their own governments, both capable of ascertaining their rights, and disposed to defend them. They will not suffer Mr. Madison to declare them" at war with GreatBritain," though he has set them so memorable an example. Our first impression therefore on reading this proclamation, was, that though couched in terms of pretended friendship for neutral nations, it is an insult to their dignity, by an extra official interference with concerns exclusively their own.

[ocr errors]

We were next struck with the glaring incorrectness of the pretended fact, on which the blockade is pronounced illegal. The ، multi"plied and daily arrivals and departures of the “ publick and private armed vessels of the Uni- | "ted States, and of other vessels," unfortunately has no existence, but in this ridiculous document. Our seacoast, from Passamaquoddy to Rhode Island, is under the constant inspection of British cruisers-their barges are constantly landing on our little islands,-entering our outports, and even ascending our rivers. What is the fact with respect to the coast from Rhode-Island to New-Jersey ? Commodore Decatur can answer, who has been nearly a year blockaded within Long-Island sound, and can neither get out by Block-island nor NewYork. The last accounts from Philadelphia were, "a frigate is cruising in our (Delaware) bay." The force in the Chesapeake, it will not be denied, might at once, cross shot from Cape Charles to Cape Henry. Of the three southern states, we know nothing. So much -So much

|

|

|

Some suppose this proclamation has been issued from an expectation that it would induce the nations of Europe, (for they are now all neutral, except Norway) to abandon the blessings of peace, the moment they are beginning to be diffused, and again fall upon Great-Britain, in concert with the United States! There certainly appears to be some ground for such a conjecture, for it accords with that shallow, sanguine, visionary spirit of speculation, which has already involved Mr. Madison in inextricable embarrassments, and exposed his measures to the derision of the world. As a matter of feeling, we have no right-very far from it-to suppose the powers of Europe predisit-to suppose the powers of Europe predisposed to quarrel with those, whose unparalleled fortitude and exertions have preserved them from the chains of a despot; and to take up the course of his ally. The partiality of enlightened nations to peace, is the only reason we have, not to dread the resentment of all Europe, for the devotion of our policy, our funds, and our arms to the cause of France, while she, under the sway of a tyrant, was aiming at universal empire. No slight occasion will so soon involve the powers of Europe in war; above all, against a nation, to whom they are and cheerfully express themselves they are and cheerfully express themselves deeply indebted. Armed neutralities were the offspring of French intrigue and ambition. France could not now play her game again the attempt in Mr. Madison! will but expose him to ridicule and mortification.

But the whole efficiency of this mighty proclamation depends on the import of the passage we have quoted, to which all the rest is but preamble. And what is it? Without this declaration, we were bound to treat our friends with friendship. Unless the President feels himself exposed to the mistrust of neutral powers, where is the necessity of renewing instructions, which are implied in every commission of war. Our publick armed vessels

NO. XXVIII.

are obliged to pursue, burn, sink, and destroy the declared enemy, wherever it can be effected: they cannot do more they can give no "aid" nor" kind offices" to neutrals attempting to enter our blockaded ports, other than was their positive duty, without this new injunction.

It only remains to notice the implied censure, both on the officers of the American navy, and the commanders of our privateers. Mr. Madison would not wish to have the world suppose him capable of issuing commands for which there was no necessity. Have our cruisers interrupted, detained, molested, and vexed neutrals, trading or attempting to trade with us? Are they likely to commit such outrages, against the good faith of our government, and the interests of our country ? If neither, why this formal prohibition ? Why is it, that " I, James Madison, President of the "United States of America, do, by this my Proclamation," forbid aggression on neutral rights? Had the federalists called for such a proclamation as expedient, would not every officer in the navy have considered it a reflection on their honour? If this censure is merited, we are sorry; but from any evidence yet before the publick, we must consider it a mere wanton display of authority.

THE TRUE CAUSE OF ALARM

THE PERSONAL INTERESTS AND POLICY OF OUR RULERS.

AN excellent writer in the Daily Advertiser has produced ample series of arguments to shew, that, however menacing appearances. abroad may be considered, the danger we have most to apprehend is the avarice, selfishness, and folly of our rulers, whose political theories point to interminable war,-and whose conduct, governed solely by the desire of retaining power, is constantly augmenting the ordinary calamitics of war, by committing unpractised outrages, and thus bringing upon themselves a course' of destructive retaliation. The following is the conclusion of his last paper.

"There is at this moment more danger that Madison and Messrs. J. Q. Adams and Co. will insist on the cession of Quebeck, than that Britain will demand Oswego and Sackett's harbour, or the whole of the fisheries. I speak here of the true temper of the two Cab. inets. Britain has nothing to gain, and much to lose by this contest. Our Cabinet considered as distinct from the people gain much even Ly a losing war They gain patronage and opportunity for plunder.

As to the ravage of our coasts, and the sacking of our towns: If we burn another Newark and another Dover, some Havre de Grace and Buffaloe must ascend in smoke to the skies; but if our administration are as humane as they talk, or as our enemy seem disposed to be, (we junge only by his acts) he will limit his retaliation to our shipping. This will be burnt. It is, it must be admitted, a. sad example. It is a modern interpolation in the law of nations, to make the quarter deck of a prize or ship of war a court of Admiralty to condemn and execute the sentence with the torch rather than the sword of Justice. Fiancefirst of all nations broke through the establish.

« ПретходнаНастави »