Слике страница
PDF
ePub

6

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

'the country wants, being the chief place for
shipping and merchandize.

though after his death his bookseller drove his 'wolves. The greatest wants are wood and
coach-and it was left for our contemporary, 'meadow ground, which never were in this
Mr. Whitbread, in 1793 to erect a monument 'place; being constrained to fetch their build-
on the poet's grave. What will the world doing timber and firewood from the islands in
for the patriot covered with scars, received in boats, and their hay in loyters: It being a
his country's defence, but praise him when he neck, and a bare wood, they are not troubled
is no more? What will the world give the with three great annoyances, of Wolves,
most distinguished statesman, but a funeral Rattle-snakes, and Musketoes. These that
procession. Why does ever the ingenious and live here upon their cattle, must be con-
useful mechanick seek his patent, but because 'strained to take farms in the country, or else
the world will not reward his services?
'they cannot subsist, the place being too small
It is true, that where talents are to be ex- 'to contain many, and fittest for such as can
ercised for the specifick benefit of an individ-trade into England, for such commodities as
ual, the possessor frequently sets his price,
and his encouragement will depend on his
merit. Thus the profound and eloquent ad- This neck of land is not above four miles
vocate, the judicious and attentive physician, in compass, in form almost square, having on
rises to affluence; but as this is the natural the south side at one corner, a great broad
course of merit, of this description, it is sel- hill, whereon is planted a fort, which can
dom if ever a subject of patronage, and there-command any ship as she sails into any har-
fore the satire on patronage cannot here apply. 'bour within the still bay. On the north side
On the whole, though the subject has fur-is another hill* equal in bigness, whereon
nished a day's very pleasant reading, we con- stands a windmill. To the northwest is an
ceive Miss Edgeworth has made nothing of high mountain with three little rising hills
her argument, and that if she had, it would on the top of it, wherefore it is called the
have a tendency to injure society.
Tramount. From the top of this mountain a
'man may overlook all the islands which lie
within the bay, and descry such ships as are
upon the sea-coast. This town, although it
be neither the greatest nor the richest, yet is
the most noted and frequented, being the
center of the plantations, where the monthly
'courts were kept. Here likewise dwells the
Governour. This place hath very good land,

COTTLE'S "ALFRED."

THE first American edition of this Poem

[ocr errors]

has recently been published at Newburyport,
by W. B. Allen & Co. As it is little known
in this country, we shall notice it, as soon as
we have finished the volume.. At present, we
select, as a specimen of the author's imagina-affording rich cornfields, and fruitful gar-
tion, the following picture of

DESTRUCTION PERSONÍFIED.

"Now down he came,
And wandering through a vale, shadowy and calm,
Espied ruined Abbey. To the spot
He hastened, and beheld the mouldering walls,
Black with the rust of age, and all within,
Silence and waste; while not a sound was heard,
But the wind moaning, not a form beheld,
Save one that fancy imaged to his mind—
The spirit of Destruction. She who haunts
The moss-grown temples, and the wild resorts
Of bats and scorpions; where no mortal steps
Make the walls murmur with obtrusive sounds ;
But cries and screeches from nocturnal beings
Sound evermore, whilst the whole progeny
Of doleful things, that court rank solitude,
Thrive and make merriment. Upon a pile
She loves to sit, of broken monuments,
And o'er the scene casts an exultant eye;
Smiling to view the massy pillars fallen-
The aged altars-trophies-pedestals;
And where the invulnerable shaft withstands
Her bate and her derision, round she strews
The creeping Ivy, with its living shade
To hide all forms of man."

BOSTON, IN THE YEAR 1639. IN a pamphlet, published in 1639, called "New-England's Prospect," by William Wood, we find a very amusing description of the principal settlements, manners, and customs of New-England. It will be pleasing to many

of our readers, to look back to what Boston was at that time, and to remark the wonderful change, in about three ages.

BOSTON is two miles north-east from Roxbury: His situation is very pleasant, being a 'peninsula, hem'd on the south side with the bay of Roxbury, on the north side with Charles river, the marshes on the back side being not half a quarter of a mile over; so that a little fencing will secure their cattle from the

dens; having likewise sweet and pleasant springs. The inhabitants of this place, for their enlargement, have taken to themselves farm-houses, in a place called Muddy-river, two miles from their town; where is good 'ground, large timber, and store of marsh-land and meadow. In this place they keep their swine, and other cattle in the summer, whilst the corn is on the ground at Boston, and bring them to town in the winter.'

Cope's-Hill, belonging formerly to one of that name; the windmill was standing in the memory of some ancient people living in 1764.

THE author above quoted, gives a very humorous account of the astonishment of the aboriginals, at the talent which our good great-grandmothers, it seems, possessed, of giving wholesome disciplinary lectures to their husbands.

An Indian Sagamore,' says he, 'once hearing an English woman scold with her husband, her quick utterance exceeding his apprehension, her active lungs thundering in 'his ears, expelled him the house, from whence he went to the next neighbour, where he related the unseemliness of her behaviour; her language being strange to him, he expressed it as strangely, telling them how she cried Nannana Nannana Nannana Nan, saying he was a great fool to give her the audience, and no correction for usurping his charter, and abusing him by her tongue.'

THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.
WE derive inestimable advantages from the
Christian religion, which we never duly appre-
ciate, because we receive them by early edu-
cation. The question of the Immortality of
the Soul, was one of the most perplexing that
ever commanded the attention of the pagan
sages. Cicero employed the utmost energies
of his mind, to satisfy himself on this impor-
tant point, and probably arrived nearer to a
conviction of its truth, than any of his rival

philosophers. Yet he was distracted by the
most painful doubts.
most painful doubts. "Nescio quomodo, dum
lego assentior; dum deposui librum, et mecum
ipse de immortalite animorum cœpi cogitare,
assentio omnis illa elabitur." "I know not how,
says he whilst I read, I assent; when I have
laid aside the book, and begin to reflect with
myself on the immortality of the soul, my mind
misgives me." Who can read this passage,with-
out wishing the good man had lived a few years
later? Who can read it without feeling his
heart warm with gratitude, to see so large a
portion of mankind now enjoying the most un-
wavering assurance, that "there is another
and a better world," which assurance descends
to us, with the gift of the gospel.

THE WRITER, No. XV.

had several occasions since I began These weekly essays, to mention my friend Dr. REVERIE; and as I shall, no doubt, in future, often enrich my pages with his observations and remarks, I think it may be proper, and I hope entertaining to my readers, to give them some general idea of the character and reputed science of this worthy gentleman, at this time, and hereafter I may finish the picture, by re-touching the peculiar traits, and bringing forward by proper relief, the bolder and more prominent parts of this interesting and somewhat singular portrait.

I never have been able to fix, exactly, the important era of his birth, but as he is pretty intimate with events of the middle of the last century, I should place it about the year '45; which, if I recollect right, was the year of the rebellion and the downfal of the last Pretender. I merely mention this historical fact, in order that posterity may advert to it, in case there should be any dispute hereafter about the event I am speaking of; as the births or deaths of some illustrious men of antiquity are oftendetermined by great eclipses or the Olympian games.

The Doctor, in his general appearance, very much resembles one of those good people we call Quakers. In his youth, I am told, he was animated, full of spirit, and very sanguine and confident of success in all his projects and undertakings. He was quick, though not violent, in his temper; but in his resentment he was implacable; fortunately, his power of discrimination is so accurate, and his integrity so unimpeachable, that though sometimes severe, he can very seldom be called unjust. Age and philosophy, however, having very much mellowed his temper and disposition, it is not the only time I remember to have seen him now a trifling thing that can ruffle him; and in a violent passion, was when one of his patients had eaten a piece of veal, after he had ordered him to live on beef-steak and onions. holds a high and honorable rank; and as a For science and literary acquirements he professional man, is not only eminent for his skill, but has the good fortune to be employed by all the beau monde; for as it is the fashion sometimes to be indisposed, so also, to be perfectly genteel, it is necessary that you have a fashionable physician, and nobody now a days can be sick in any kind of style, unless they have Dr Reverie to attend them.

But what he values himself most upon, is his Theory. Every great man, and especially every great physician, must have his theory; and Dr. Reverie has erected one as splendid and as visionary, as any that have gone before him. This is the vehicle of his fame, or, to express it in his own more lofty language, this is his chariot of genius, which like the car

of victory is to transport him to the Temple of Fame in triumph.

The all-pervading principle of Electricity carly suggested to Dr. Reverie the idea of this new Theory; and his active and eager mind required but little excitement to become overcharged; and it finally exploded one of the finest hypotheses, which this or any other age has ever produced. By his method the Hippocratick and Galenick system of the four humours is entirely done away; as also the idea of the natural, vital, and animal spirits; Electricity supersedes the whole, and beautifully simplifies whatever has heretofore been intricate and perplexing in the Theory and Practice of Medicine." By this system all disorders are known to originate in the excess, or deficiency, of the electrical fluid if the nat urai body; and therefore we have only to e ulate it, plus or minus, to counteract disease or prevent any kind of sickness or disorder whatever. It must be confessed that the Docto sometimes runs his Theory almost too hard ; but this is natural, and what all Theorists have been guilty of before him. In the warmth of argument, you might suppose he thought the human body at mere. electrical machine, and that, with a proper apparatus of wires, bells, and glasses he could play off, with it, all the various and beautiful phoenomena, which are • usually exhibited in the best lectures upon this branch of philosophy and natural science. The human frame, I have heard him say, is sometimes so highly charged with this amazing fluid, that he could kill a turkey with it as far, as Dr. Franklin did, when he fired his electrical machine across the Schuylkill river. These kind of whims, as they do no harm, are rather agreeable traits, than blemishes in the character of the Doctor; and all who have the happiness of his acquaintance, love and respect him personally, whatever may be their opinion of his Theory.

SKETCH

OF THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE NAVAL
POWER OF GREAT-BRITAIN.

Concluded.

Dominique, took the Ville de Paris, four oth er ships, and sunk one.

In 1793 began the war with revolutionary France. "From this day," says an English writer, "the history of the British navy consists in an uninterrupted series of splendid and im portant victories. Under Howe, it defeated the French; under Duncan, the Dutch; under Jervis, the Spanish; and under Neleon, the French again. We have said that her seen it grow with it; and we may safely af firm that only with this, it can cease. Her marine has made England what she is ; nor will any part of her history offer a sublimer spectacle, than the national magnitude of her fleets, and the individual skill and valour of her seamen."

in history. The letter which Captain Walton,
who had been detached in pursuit of Rear Ad-
miral de Mari, wrote to the Admiral, after
the encounter, is a curious morceau :
"Sir,
"we have taken and destroyed all the Spanish
"ships and vessels which were upon the coast;
"the number as per margin. I am,
&c.
"G. Walton."
The rising navy of Spain being destroyed,
and that of France in a very low state, fleets
under the command of Norris and Wager be-marine began with her civilization; we have
ing sent into the Baltick, caused the British
flag to be amply respected in that quarter.
George II. ascended the throne in 1727.
In 1739 war was again declared against Spain.
Porto Bello was taken by Admiral Vernon
with only six ships of war. He attempted
Carthagena, but failed. The tide of fortune
for a short time seemed to set in favour of the
Spaniards, who being joined by the French,
became masters of the Mediterranean. M.
de Marquis de Roquefeuille, while cruising in
the channel, obliged all the vessels of his Brit-
annick majesty that he fell in with to render
first the honours of the salute to him. War
was soon after proclaimed between France and
England; several naval battles were fought
with various success, till both parties, tired
and harassed, signed a treaty of peace, at Aix-
la-Chapelle, in 1748. The condition of the
French and English navies at this period,
presents a remarkable contrast. The naval
force of France was in a state of disgraceful
weakness, while that of England was in a
flourishing condition: her arsenals were full
of ammunition and stores, her dock-yards were
well supplied with timber, and activity was
apparent in all her ports.

Thus circumstanced, the English stood on
very advantageous ground, at the commence-
ment of the ensuing war, in May 1756. The
losses of the French merchants were enor
mous, and before the end of 1757, amounted
to 510 ships, fitted out of the principal ports
for the colonies, without counting the coasting
vessels, and those employed in the Newfound-
land fishery-and such was the state of their
royal navy, that it could give them no assis-

tance.

The marine of France however revived under M. de Machault, and admiral de la Galissoniere defeated Admiral Byng. But the loss of Louisbourg, in July 1758, was a fatal blow to the French navy. "From that period," says one of their own writers, " it seemed "as if France only fitted out ships of war for "England; her squadrons blocked up all the "harbours of France, and cut off all commu"nication with them; no ship got ready to "sail but in some measure clandestinely; "those few vessels, which did escape falling "into the hands of the enemy, were chiefly in"debted for it to some favourable circumstance "in the weather."

DURING the early part of the reign of Queen Anne, the English sustained considerable losses at sea. In the dreadful storm of the 26th of November 1703, they lost 13 ships of war and more than 1500 seamen. Sir Cloudesley Shovel, on his return to England with a part of the Mediterranean fleet, struck upon the rocks of Scilly, lost his own ship and crew, exceeding 900 men; the Eagle of 70, and the Romney of 50 guns shared the same fate. Rear Admiral Edwards was defeated in an! engagement with the squadron of DuguayTrouin': of five English vessels three were taken, one was blown up, and the fifth escaped. Notwithstanding these numerous losses, however, England possessed, at the end of the About two years after George III. ascended year 1707, 100 ships of the line, including the throne, peace was signed (1762) at Fonfourth rates; 66 fifth and sixth rates, and 88 tainbleau. France had lost, in the course of vessels of inferior size. Among the first desthe war, thirty-seven sail of the line, and fiftycription were several three deckers, the strong-six frigates; and Spain, who came forward to est and most capacious that had been constructed in Europe.

The marine of Spain had been reduced almost to a state of annihilation. Cardinal Alberoni, the Spanish minister, made great exertions to re-establish it, and sent a considerable armament into the Mediterranean, for the conquest of Sardinia. George I. ascended the throne, and despatched a powerful fleet, under Admiral Byng, to arrest the progress of the Spaniards. The fleets met, and the English obtained as great a victory,as any recorded

assist her, lost her rich colonies, Havana and
Manilla, fourteen ships of the line and four
frigates!

The American war began in 1775, and dur-
ing this long struggle, the British continued
to gain distinguished successes by sea. Some
of the principal events are the following. In
January, 1780, Admiral Rodney took 19 Span-
ish transports, a sixty-four gun ship, and five
frigates. The same month, he defeated their
Admiral Langara, and took five ships. In
April 1802, he defeated Count de Grasse, off

POETRY.

SELECTED.

THE TEAR.

I TALK'D of the woes of the days that are past,
Of afflictions and trials severe ;

How the May-morn of life was with storms overcast

How the blossoms of HOPE were all nipt by the blast:
And beauty sat list'ning to hear.

of hardships and dangers and many a wrong,

Of Treachery's snare and Ingratitude's tongue ;
I told and 'twas pleasant the tale to prolong-
For beauty repaid with a tear.

And of toils that beset me so near ;

Ah! soft form of Beauty, that gladdens the soul'
Is aught as thy sympathy dear-
When thy bright-beaming eyes with benignity roll,
When heaves thy full bosom at pity's control,

And thy roses are washed with a tear.

When dark roll the clouds that o'ershadow our doom,
When toils and when dangers appear ;
When the storm-threat'aing waves all their terrors as-

sume ;

Then the sun-beam of Hope that can break thro' the gloom,

O Beauty! must shine thro" a tear.

Yes, Beauty-thy tear, that from sympathy flows,
To manhood shall ever be dear;

"Tis the balm of all ill, and the cure of all woes ;
And the heart-rankling wounds of remembrance ska ¦

close,

That beauty has wash'd with a tear.

THE KISS.
[From the French.]
THANKS to my gentle, absent friend,
A Kiss you in your letter send;
But ah! the thrilling charm is lost,
In Kisses, that arrive by post :
That fruit can only tasteful be,
When gather'd melting from the tree.

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR

JOHN PARK,

BY MUNROE & FRANCIS,

NO. 4 CORNHILL.
Price three dollars per annum, half in advance.
Subscribers may be supplied with the preceding
numbers.

VOL. I.

POLITICAL.

DEVOTED TO POLITICKS AND BELLES LETTRES.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

THE day of America's retribution has come -our ill fated, misguided, corrupted country must now take the consequences of both its political and moral depravity. Heaven has, thus far, disposed those against whom we declared war, to distribute the effects of their just resentment,in a considerable measure, according to the disposition of different sections of the country, in favour or against assailing them. Would to God it were in the nature of things that this principle could be carried into effect, on a scale of perfect discrimination, and the innocent not suffer with the guilty; but this is impossible, and we must submit to our fate.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1814.

faction, who owe their greatness to their
country's ruin."

Are there any who say it is not a time to
insist on our government's abandoning its
ground, when ministers are employed in ne-
gotiation? Shall we never be cured of the
folly of supposing the British cabinet a nursery
of babies, who are to be frightened by terrifick
masks and goblin stories? They will never
concede an inch of the ground Mr. Madison
assumed; and a pretence on our part to ex-
pect it, if it produce any effect, will tend to
provoke them to higher requisitions. Happily,
as yet, we have no grounds to suppose they
will require any sacrifice from our country,
though our rulers must succomb. Their cause,
thank heaven, is not the nation's.

To protest with honest indignation against Still it is just and proper that we should the war and its pretences, will never make a keep our eyes upon our domestick foes, and British admiral imagine we will not defend our not suffer ourselves to forget the authors of houses and families, if it become a question to our calamities. As they have the audacity to abandon them or fight; but, on the other hand, continue their insolent and abusive language it may qualify, at least locally, the asperity of -as they still are pouring out their invectives that resentment, which an unprovoked war has upon those, who had no part in bringing these incurred. This, however, we would not urge, sufferings upon the nation, let them know that as the most important consideration. We firmthough we must suffer with them, we are not ly believe, if Mr. Madison can drive the counto be duped out of our senses, and made to try to make common cause with him and his .consider ourselves exposed to the horrors of minions, he will still avoid peace. He knows war, by an offensive disposition in the British, that the British will not attempt to conquer who have only come at last to defend their the United States, and that if the people adcolonies. If any man's vessel is burnt, let here to him, he may still be a President for him remember that the democrats of his town, ars, though the fairest part of the republick who have voted for war men, have subjected be laid in ashes. He must be abandoned by him to this loss. If any man's house is de-the people, or his best hopes will prompt him stroyed, let him reproach his neighbour demo- to protract the conflict, and ride upon the crats with this misfortune, for their votes brought it upon him. If our towns are attack

storm.

CIRCUMSTANCES.

ed, in the name of justice, let us takeood CORRECT PRINCIPLES DO NOT CHANGE WITH
Care, while we expose our lives in their de-
fence, that those who have been most active
for war, and who still continue to insult and
fire the resentment of the enemy, are placed
in the front rank. They will be skulking
from danger; let us at least make them fight
by our sides, or legally gibbet them as traitors.
When we hear of devastation on our coasts,
let us turn to the advocate of war, and thunder
in his guilty ears,-"You, sir, have done
this."

In the mean time, it is the duty of all of us to examine ourselves, and see whether we feel perfectly justified, in the part we have performed. Have we not omitted some effort we might have made, to avert this misery? Have we not, from timidity, or some latent partiality to those delusive principles which our rulers have professed, given scope to their machinations, which an honest, manly, enlightened patriotism might have checked? If we feel the stings of compunction, and I know not who can conscientiously say, he has ever done his utmost, for his country. let us now determine to be just and fear not. It is still a time for exertion, to disseminate the truth among the uninformed-to silence the false clamours, which were circulated to pave the way for war; to render it popular, after the ruinous step was taken--and now to inflame the publick mind, with a blind rage for continuing it, as the common cause of an injured, country, when it is, in fact, but the infamous plot of a

[blocks in formation]

empty their pockets will be played off, in exciting insurrections, to supplant good men by bad, or bad by worse.

At the request of a correspondent, we have inserted in the last page of this number, a paper describing the horrors of war. The description is just; but though war is one of heaven's severest scourges, ranked by inspiration itself with pestilence and famine, we would not countenance the doctrine that it is an evil never to be encountered. It is sometimes inevitable; it is sometimes just and expedient, when it might be avoided. War is not to be regarded with abhorrence, though its attendants are appalling, but when it is waged from wicked passions or unfounded pretexts. When a tyrant invades to enslave, or when important national rights are outraged, then, dulce et decorum est pro patria mori-the life and services of every individual become the property of the community, and where there is a prospect of success, should be freely used and as freely yielded.

We have been once engaged in a war, when we could confidently look to heaven for a blessing on our good cause and our arms. The names of those,who endured and survived the contest, az venerated by an emancipated nation; the names of those, who fell, are held in grateful recollection. But now we are engaged in a war, originating in the basest of selfish motives. totally aggressive in its nature, conducted and profligacy-experiencing the frowns of heaven, in every step-and exposing us to the censure and scorn of the world. The distress, devastation, and carnage which are now begun, deserve solemn consideration, and above all, from those to whom atiqnmen who are accountable at the bar of our country is indebted for its disastrous situeternal justice for every drop of blood-every sigh, and every pang of sorrow, which will re

sult from this wicked conflict.

Ir has ever been the firm determination of the editor of this paper, for the twelve years he has been engaged in the publick discussion of political questions, to support such doctrines, THE PRESENT OBJECT OF THE WAR: under the circumstances that have occurred, as he would maintain in any other to have but Washington, states very seriously, that the A WRITER in the government paper, at one language, on every subject, whether act-dispute between Great Britain and the United ing with a majority, or in opposition. In this respect, he can now look back with satisfaction on every page he has written.

States does not relate to principles, but has

become

a question of physical force. We looked for some editorial qualification of this position, but could find none, and therefore think it entitled to serious consideration.

We have cautiously guarded against falling into invectives against taxes, merely because they pressed or were enormous-for the pub- If it has become merely a question of force, lick ought to be habituated not abstractedly why the absurd farce of sending five ministers to indulge an odium against taxes, but to inquire for what purpose they are required, and gymnastick tragedy, to ascertain whether to Europe to negotiate? If the war is but a how are they expended. We are aware that Great Britain or the United States is the a temporary advantage to our party might be strongest, that cannot be determined at Ghent, derived from such a course; but we are as but on the shores and frontiers of our own terwell aware, that it would only confirm preju-zitory. It is a pitched battle between fifteen dices, which are naturally strong enough, and millions of people on one side, and seven millwhich might some time, not far distant, prove ions on the other--between a thousand vessels an obstacle to the operations of a virtuous and of war, and thirty. If this be true, nothing is wise government. It is certain that whatever to be hoped from the arrival of despatches administration succeeds this war, (if the war from our ministers. The forces of the two do not put an end to the federal government,) countries are putting themselves in array, and it must levy enormous taxes, to discharge the it seem aust fight, whether the old questions expenses our present rulers have incurred, to of right hd reason can be accommodated, by enrich its partisans; those taxes must then be diplomatists, or not. paid, though now kept out of sight by loans ; and the usual reluctance of the people to

1

Whether this be the deliberate sentiment of the governme: t, we do not pretend to say

It is the concession of one of their partisans, and serves to corroborate what we have ever maintained, that the points alleged, as causes of war, are deemed of very little consequence, or are wholly delusive.

4 to 8,000 are reported to have already land-
ed, on the Patuxent, but 30 miles from Wash-
ington. The militia were rapidly collecting
in and near that city-to the number, as has
been conjectured, of 16,000. We presume
this is considerably overrated; and from all
we can learn of the preparations of defence, if
the possession of the Capital is the object of
the British, their success is not improbable-
Capt. Porter, with 300 seamen, has gone on
from New York, to join the forces at Wash-

THE Editor of the New York Evening Post, in a very able paper has exposed the disgust ing absurdity of the principle, on which Mr. Madison began his professed " retaliation" ou the British, with respect to prisoners; and has demonstrated the whole scene of impos-ington. ture, by which he has attempted to conceal, from the American nation, his disgraceful retreat from his ground. Mr. Coleman's remarks, on this subject, we are happy to see, are circulating through the most respectable newspapers in the Union.

GENERAL REGISTER.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1814.

DOMESTICK.

We are happy to learn, that the damage sustained by the inhabitants of Stonington, from the recent attack on that place, amounts to but 3,500 dollars,as reported by a committee appointed for that purpose.

The official accounts on both sides, of the battle at Bridgewater, near Niagara falls, on the 25th of July, are now before the publick. They state the losses respectively as follows. Killed, American 117-British 84. Wounded, American 572-British, 552. Missing and Prisoners, American 117-British 235.

After the above battle, the American troops remained quietly posted at Fort Erie, until the morning of the 15th instant, when they were attacked by General Drummond, who was repulsed after sustaining a severe loss, principally, as is reported, by the accidental explosion of the magazine, in old Fort Erie, while in possession of the British. The following outline of the result is official.

Head Quarters, Fort Erie, U. C.
Aug. 15th, 7, A. M. 1814.

}

DEAR SIR-My heart is gladdened with gratitude to Heaven and joy to my country, to have it in my power to inform you, that the gallant army under my command has this morning beaten the enemy commanded by Lt. Gen. Drummond, after a severe conflict of three hours, commencing at two o'clock, A. M. They attacked us on each flank-got possession of the salient bastion of the old Fort Eric, which was regained at the point of the bayonet with a dreadful slaughter. The enemy's loss in killed and prisoners is about 600; near 300 killed. Our loss is considerable, but I think not one tenth as great as that of the enemy. I will not detain the express to give you the particulars. I am preparing my force to follow the blow.

With great respect and esteem, your obe

dient servant,

EDWARD PENDLETON GAINES. Brig. Gen. Com'g. Hon. John Armstrong, Secretary at War. Admiral Cochrane has, at last, certainly arrived in the Chesapeake, with a reinforcement, stated to consist of between forty and fifty vessels. They proceeded immediately up the bay; a part have ascended the Potomack towards Washington city, and a part up the Patuxent, where lies Commodore Barney's flotilla. Washington, and all the country in that vicinity. is in the utmost consternation, expecting an attack on Washington,and perhaps other cities of much greater importance.

The whole British military force in that Quarter, is estimated at 12,000; of these from

A large body of Pennsylvania militia is likewise said to be under marching orders. Gen Winder's regular force is but about 1000.

To Correspondents.

We have received a translation from THEOCRITUS, addressed to "THE WRITER;" but as the author of the numbers under that title is unknown to the editor of this paper, it cannot be communicated.

We should be happy to hear again from "MYRA." We have on hand a great number of poetical communications, and regret to find that they generally want that merit, which we should expect, in the metropolis.

LITERARY AND MISCELLANEOUS.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATor.

THAT life abounds with pains and sorrows is admitted by every class of society. Not a few make it an occasion of murmuring at the dispensations of Providence, and impeaching the goodness of the Creator,

"Call imperfection what they fancy such."

verseness. If the premature old age of the pagate becomes a scene of torture, it is of his own preparing. The poverty and misery of the spendthrift and indolent are curses of their own choice. Our own imprudence, passion, and negligence bring with them a train of minor ills, with which our existence is strewed, to which may be attributed most of the deductions from felicity, which mark our career through life.

But is not moral evil, where the innocent are the victims of others' crimes, as difficult to be reconciled to infinite goodness, as that which is purely physical? I can only answer this by asking-are you dissatisfied with human freedom? Free agency-accountabilityvirtue-vice-rewards and punishments-all these must be done away, or the possibility of cruelty, tyranny, every species of violence and wrong must be admitted. If it be consistent, that a perfectly benevolent being should make a free agent, and surely there is nothing revolting in this, then it must be consistent with his character to admit the consequences of that free agency. I believe this reasoning correct, and as the subject is one of solemn importance, it deserves serious consideration.

I have cften thought it strange and not casily to be accounted for, considering the universal complaint that life abounds with ills, that the passion to increase their number should be so general. I do not mean the great calamities, which only a few exalted villains can inflict; but the painful sensations, the disappointments, and mortifications, which are daily produced, in the common intercourse of society, from a mere wanton propensity to outrage the sensibility of those around us. There can be no doubt but that the truly benevolent

mind is, of all, the most happy-that a desire to increase the felicity of our fellow creatures gives to the possessor a pleasure equal to that

it confers. This source of satisfaction is accessible to all-but instead of cultivating it with that fondness, which it would seem even a rational self-love would inspire, and which both genuine politeness and religion inculcate, we see few who do not sometimes indulge a propensity to give unnecessary pain, and some, to whom it appears to be a predominant object.

The existence of inevitable, natural evils, is certainly one of the most difficult subjects that has ever baffled the powers of the human understanding, and I confess it is a stumbling block, which I have never seen satisfactorily removed. There are, however, such irresistíble proofs of unbounded power, wisdom, and goodness, in what we understand of the divine economy, it would rather evince an arrogant weakness, than a commendable spirit of philosophy, to censure what we cannot comprehend. We perhaps know both the beginning and end of no one thing-how then shall we presume to offer a decision, which should be founded on a perfect knowledge of things in all their relations. Compared with inferior orders of being, we may, and we have good reason to, rejoice in our powers-yet, though we cannot form comparisons with the myriads of beings, whom reasoning analogically, we may suppose to rank above us, yet on an examination of the limited reach of our own minds, we shall be soon taught a lesson of humility. What does the profoundest sage completely understand? I might make a list of every thing around us, and defy the utmost scope of reason to account for the ordinary phenomena, which are subject to our constant observation. We are perplexed even by the operations of our own minds. This will be more striking, by adducing a familiar instance.gions of bliss. They are continually employAre we free in our choice of action, or do we act from necessity? This question, a superficial thinker would boldly answer, at once; but the ablest metaphysicians are divided on the subject and will probably never agree. Shall such minds sit in judgment on the plans of him, who formed and supports the universe?

"Now it is true," says an amiable writer, "that every degree of benevolence is a pleasure, and that sorrow itself, when arising from thence, is accompanied with a secret satisfaction; and that every emotion of envy and hatred is attended with pain: our happiness then must be more complete and durable, in proportion as our manner of life tends to inspire us with sentiments of love and benevolence, and to remove those of hatred and ill will. The life of the just and benevolent man is one continued act of complacency, and all the objects presented to him will be agreeabic. All the emotions of his heart are so many pleasures. Such we may presume to be the state of those who are placed in the re

ed in the exercise of benevolence; this was their delight here on earth, and even then began to yield them a recompense for their virtue."

COMMENCEMENT.

NEXT Wednesday is the anniversary of Commencement at Harvard University. On this occasion the rabble ususily attend for revelry and sport-many of the fashionable proba

But of the evils we experience, a very small portion are of this description; they are principally of a moral nature and brought upon us, either by our own misconduct or the mis-bly for fashion's sake; but the learned, the cuconduct of others. Of former we cannot in justice complain-we pot arraign the benevolence of Deity, nor criminate mankind for the consequences of our own folly or per

rious, and the reflecting, for the satisfaction of witnessing the growing merits of an institution to which this part of the country is principally indebted, for its respectable rank in literature,

morals and politicks, as well as for the constant supply of enlightened instructers in religion. We trust the youth, by a clear, distinct enunciation, will enable those who feel interested in the exercises, to enjoy them; a failure in this respect is frequently a cause of general regret.

THE WRITER, No. XVI.

WHEN I was a young man, I had two beautiful female cousins, who were very intimate and very fond of each other, and yet they differed very much in their tastes and dispositions. To distinguish, without betraying them in my description, I shall call them by the

fictitious names of Cornelia and Livia. Cornelia was always endeavouring to adorn her mind, Livia her person; of course, if you found Cornelia alone, you were sure to catch her with a book in her hand; if you sought for Livia, she was as constantly found cocking her bonnet, shifting a ribbon, or contriving some kind of new ornament to deck her person, and set off her pretty face to greater advantage. Cornelia had no sort of taste or desire for gewgaws; a brilliant necklace, or a pair of ear-rings, had no charms for her, unless it was that she might give them to somebody who had a greater fancy for them, and thus afford pleasure to some of her friends.

The trinkets and ornaments, therefore, which came into her possession, were generally given to Livia, and she seemed to take as much pleasure in dressing out her fair cousin, as the most of young ladies discover in dressing

themselves.

What she thought of her own person, nobody I believe ever knew, but we all knew that she thought her cousin Livia handsome ; and although she was so careless of dress and appearance herself, she always took delight in seeing fine clothes and fine ornaments bestowed on Livia.

These two young ladies lived in great harmony, for there was nothing that might interrupt it; they were both good-natured, and there was no rivalship. Livia was always dressed the finest, and Cornelia, instead of envying her fair companion, took great pleasure in seeing her so gay and so happy; in fact, she loved her, and thought every body else ought to, for taking so much pains to please them.

the rage to wear the hat a little on one side, pleasures and fireside enjoyments, which should
her's was sure to be brought down to the low-make it, of all places, the most pleasant and
er part of her face; if bare necks was the most desirable. In a well regulated family,
mode, she would not only shew a very hand- even the servants should not be neglected;
some one, but take care to add to the display, but here they are left to sleep on flock-beds
some portion of her snowy bosom. It was the or on the floor, and are put in some miserable
wisdom of those times to conceal that uncome- corner of the house, where the eye of the
ly part of the arm above the elbow, but the mistress never sees their situation, and,wheth-
delicate taper, and beautiful contour from er in sickness or in health, she feels no solic-
thence to the wrist, were allowed to be uncov- itude for their comfort or accommodation.
ered, and Livia not only possessed these beau-
ties and advantages in a superior degree, but
also knew how to set them off with a most
magical effect.

It cannot be expected that much happiness is enjoyed in a scene like this, and the busband of Livia is constrained to acknowledge, although he is proud of his handsome wife, that it would have been more for his family comforts and his children's benefit, had her mind been more improved, and had she been trained up in habits of industry and domestick virtues.

HISTORICAL COLLECTIONS.

Thus accomplished and thus skilled to captivate, no wonder Livia was surrounded by admirers, and became the idol of all the young fellows of fashion about the Town. In short, she was celebrated as a belle, to the great joy of her parents, who were not a little proud of her being so, nor of the pains they had taken to make her one; as such, she was every where known, and although her name was "THE attention of the publick is invited, and never mentioned but with rapture, yet it was the patronage of the liberal is solicited to the mentioned so often, that it almost became a publications of the Massachusetts Historical Society, which, excluding political and theobyc word, and every saucy beau would have logical controversy, are devoted to the civil, some fine things to say of Livia, even in a cof-natural, and ecclesiastical history of America, fce-house or tavern, and boast of her acquaint- particularly of New England. One important ance amongst companions, and in publick pla- object is the multiplication of copies of rare ces, where it would have been very much against her reputation to be seen. and curious ancient documents, both in manuWhen she walked down Cornhill, there was always a script and print, for the use of the future histoknot of eager gazers on the opposite side of topographical descriptions of the country, and rian and biographer. It is also a repository for the street, to watch and admire her; and al- biographical memoirs of our most distinguishtheir saucy stare, yet it was plain she considthough she sometimes affected to complain at ed worthies; and various similar articles, for the gratification of the antiquarian as well as of ered it as a kind of homage or adoration which the general reader. The Society have on hand was due to her, and therefore it did not, in reality, put her very much out of temper. abundant materials, and if their pecuniary annually. It is not expected, nor particularly means were adequate, would publish a volume desired, to derive any profit from the work. Such a sale only is wanted, as shall, with the assessment on the members of the Society, inpublication. It is believed to be a work pecudemnify them for the actual expenses of the Seldom had a more dazzling couple ex liarly adapted to the Social Libraries, which changed their vows before the altar. are now generally established among us; and new scene was now to open before them; du-ed to examine it, and see if it be not well worthose interested in them are respectfully desirties and obligations had devolved upon each, thy of a place in the libraries of the several which neither knew very well how to perform. towns in the commonwealth. Livia's education and accomplishments had been chiefly calculated to obtain a husband, but unfortunately she had none of the qualifications necessary for a wife or a mother.

With so many admirers and gallants, Livia had only to follow the dictates of her fluttering She was married at eighteen, and as she was young heart in making choice of a husband. a fashionable belle herself, she chose a man of the like accomplishments, and gave her hand to a dashing beau.

But

I shall pursue the comparison no farther; but as time has long since separated these ladies from their youthful sports and intimacy, I shall also separate their stories; and continue that of Livia in the present number, whilst I reserve a further account of her cousin Cor-itable search to go abroad in quest of her.

nelia for future entertainment.

The parents of Livia, indulgent to the inclinations of their daughter, and proud of the prospect of her celebrity, gave her what is called a polite education, and encouraged her disposition and desire to be a fine lady. She was taught musick in despite of nature, for she had no ear; and painting, although she

for any where, but, in the married state, if
During a single life, pleasure may be sought
she is not found at home, it will be an unprof-

Livia however has no domestick comforts.
She hates the trouble of children, and takes
no pride in seeing her's look better than her
neighbour's, so that they generally look a
passion for dress and ornaments, she spends
great deal worse. Retaining all her former
the most of her time in embellishing her own

The first series, consisting of ten volumes, It is enriched, among other valuable articles, was commenced in 1792, and closed in 1809. while they are the pride of our country, must IoT, the founders of the Society-names, which, with many from the pens of BELKNAP and ELsecure immortality to any literary work, with which they are connected. The latter was by far the largest original contributor to the former series. Of the deceased, of whom alone it is judged proper to speak, LINCOLN and SULLIVAN also furnished several valuable articles. accurate index and chronological table. Two The tenth volume contains a most minute and of the volumes are out of print; but the Sopense. The volumes contain from 290 to 300 can be obtained, sufficient to defray the expages, 8vo. and are sold at the very moderte single volume may be had on application to price of $1, 50 each $15 the set, in bds. Any. JAMES SAVAGE, Esq. the librarian, or of the tions are received, and eight volumes of the printer, No. 5, Court Street, where subscripseries will be delivered, with an obligation to furnish the two deficient volumes, when reprinted. As soon as fifty sets are subscribed for, ficient volumes may be expected at intervals of the republication will commence, and the de

could never rightly understand the effect of person, and therefore has little or none to ciety propose to reprint them, if a subscription

spare for her children. Thus neglected and
almost forsaken, no wonder they are ragged
and dirty, whilst their mamma is receiving
company in fine lace and muslin. They are
also bold and saucy; for being turned into
the street, to learn the world, and rid their
mother of their noise and trouble, they con-
tract evil and vulgar habits as well as dirty

light and shade. At dancing she was an apt
scholar; but, with all the reputation of "learn-
ing French," she was never able to remember
the proper application of the masculine and
feminine articles. She went through these
studies however, in course, and her masters
flattered her and the old folks, that she excel-
led in them all. With these advantages, Liv-hands and dirty faces. All her family con-
ia came ont at sixteen, what the world calls
"a very accomplished young lady," she
could play a tune on the piano, paint a flow-
er, and repeat a number of complimentary
French phrases. She was always in fashion,
and generally in the extreme of it; if it was

cerns are equally neglected; she feels no
reverence for the Household Gods. She has

that systematick regularity and nice arrange-
no œconomy in her affairs; she has none of
ment, which makes home the most convenient;
and she is not susceptible of those quiet

two months"

« ПретходнаНастави »