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ry of the war will shew, that our sacrifices in blood and treasure were not confined to the defence of our own state.

Admit the utmost; that Virginia had fully contributed her part in establishing our national independence; does it give her a claim to subject us to a worse tyranny, than that which we thus resisted? Because we fought together as equals, must one portion of us now be vassals to the other? Since Virginian

policy took the ascendant in our national councils, what has New England experienced, but a regular progression, from annoyance to embarrassment, distress,and the approach of ruin ?

But all this has arisen from the "steady habits" of Virginia, her habitual attachment to men, in whom she placed confidence ! Instead of affording encouragement, here is fresh cause of alarm. While she is weaning from her fatal attachments, we shall become a poor, miserable, ruined people; with no other consolation, than that her perversity, which destroyed us, has subjected its votaries to the same wretched destiny.

GENERAL REGISTER.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, DEC. 31, 1814.

FOREIGN. No further advices from any part of Europe since our last.

We learn from Havana, that the British expedition against New Orleans was expected to consist of a force about 12,000 strong, and would sail by the 20th of December.

DOMESTICK. On hearing that the Conscription bill had passed the house of Representatives, in Congress, the House of Delegates, of Maryland, then in session, immediately passed the following order:

"Ordered, That the Committee, appointed on so much of the communication of the Executive of this State as related to the policy of the general government, and the existing state of publick affairs, be instructed to consider and report what measures it may be competent and proper for this house to take, for maintaining the sovereign rights of this State, and protecting the liberties of its citizens against the operation of arbitrary and unconstitutional acts of the general government."

The setting in of winter seems to have suspended all war events. We hear of no movements in any quarter, on either side.

It is reported that Mr.Crowninshield declines accepting the appointment of Secretary of the Navy.

General Wilkinson has set out for Utica, N.Y.where his trial is to commence inJanuary. Joseph Kerr is elected Senator from the state of Ohio, in Congress, to succeed the Hon. Thomas Worthington, who has resigned.

The President has published by Proclamation, a treaty of peace and friendship between the United States and the Wyandot, Delaware, Shawanoese, Seneca, and Miami tribes of Indians, offensive and defensive as it respects Great Britain; guaranteeing to them, on condition of the faithful fulfilment of their contract, the inviolability of their boundaries.

The Collector of the port of Baltimore has received orders to procure a vessel to carry despatches to our ministers at Ghent, which it is said is to sail early in January.

The Legislature of Massachusetts will convene in this town, on Wednesday the 15th January ensuing, agreeably to adjournment.

CONGRESS. A bill to lay a Direct Tax of Six Millions of dollars has passed in the House, and been sent to the Senate for con

currence.

The Conscription Bill still labours. The Senate and House disagreeing as to certain amendments, the bill is referred to a committee of conference.

The National Bank occupied the House principally on Friday the 23rd-no decision.

HARTFORD CONVENTION. We understand, that the present deliberations of this body will close, this day, or early next week. We have only learnt that their discussions have but what those measures are, have not yet resulted in perfect unanimity, as to measures;

been disclosed.

columns, and are finished in front with ballus. trades The pulpit is richly built of mahogany, supported by Ionick and Corinthian col umns. The floor of the house contains one hundred and eighteen pews, and the galleries thirty-two, besides the organ loft and seats for the orphan children of the Female Asylum.

In constructing this house, an attempt has been made to unite the massive simplicity of the Grecian temple, with the conveniencies of a christian church. The bold proportions of simplicity of the Attick, give the impression of the portico, cornices, and windows, and the classical antiquity; while the tower and steeple, inventions of comparatively modern date, The Editor, having understood that harmonize more agreeably with the antique several of his Patrons have applied to book-architecture, than is usual, where such differbinders, to bind their SPECTATORS for 1814, ent styles are blended. It is but justice to thinks proper to give notice, that the present say, that this splendid temple does the highvolume will be continued eight numbers more, est honour to the taste and science and no longer, unless some very favourable change should take place in the publick affairs of the country, which, at present, does not appear probable. In number LXI. will be given an Index to the principal articles in the volume.

LITERARY AND MISCELLANEOUS.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

THE NEW STONE CHURCH.

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of

the architect, CHARLES BULFINCH, esq as well as of the committee,under whose superintendance it has been planned and built, viz. Jonathan Hunnewell, George G. Lee, John Dorr, Stephen Higginson, and John Cotton, esquires.

Much credit is also due to the society usually worshipping in this place, for their exer tions to erect this building, at the present time of pressure and embarrassment; they have THIS elegant fabrick was, last Thursday, added to the ornament of the town, and have dedicated to the worship and service of Al- contributed to its safety by the removal of a mighty God, in the presence of an uncom-large wooden building it is hoped, they will monly crowded assembly. The Dedicatory be encouraged to complete the place by taking Prayer by the Rev. President KIRKLAND, D.D.; down the two adjoining houses, which will Sermon by the Rev. Mr. THACHER, officiating open the view in every direction. Pastor of the Society; and the concluding Prayer by the Rev. Mr. CHANNING.

The Prayers breathed a spirit of christian charity and fervent devotion. The Sermon consisted in an able and candid defence of "Rational Christianity," which we understand, at the earnest solicitation of many of the hearers, has been obtained for the press.

The new Church on Church-green, at the easterly end of Summer-street, is built of the best Chelmsford granite, and of the following dimensions. The body of the building is octagonal, formed in a square of seventy-six feet diameter: four sides being forty-seven feet, and four smaller sides twenty feet each. Three large windows are in two of the principal sides, and one in each of the angles and in the

rear.

Amidst the calamities incident to a state of war, it is gratifying to observe and record every instance of improvement. The introduction, by means of the Middlesex Canal, of the excellent stone from the inexhaustible quarries on the banks of the Merrimack, has already added to the beauty and respectability of the town and neighbourhood, by the buildings for the several banks and publick offices, the Court house, school house, the new University Hall, some private edifices, and the church above described: a purer taste appears to banish superguous ornament; and the effect is produced by correct proportion and the richness of the material.

TULLY, No. II.

Nullus dolor est, quem non longinquitas

The height from the ground is thirtyfour feet, and finished with a Dorick cornice of bold projection. The porch is of equal ex-temporis minuat atque molliat. tent with one of the sides, and advances sixteen feet, in front of which is a portico of four fluted columns of Grecian Dorick; this portico is crowned with a pediment, surmounted by a plain Attick. A tower rises from the centre of the attick,which includes the belfry. The first story of the steeple is an octagon, surrounded by eight columns, with a circular pedestal and entablature; an attick above this gradually diminishing by three steps or gradins, supports a second range of Corinthian columns, with entablature and ballustrade; hence the ascent, in a gradual diminution, forms the base of the spire, crowned with a ball and The entire height is one hundred and

There is no sorrow which length of time does not diminish and assuage.

vane.

ninety feet.

Inside of the house, the ceiling is supported by four Ionick columns, connected above their entablature by four arches of moderate elevation; in the angles, pendants or fans rise to form a circular flat ceiling, decorated with a centre flower: between the arches and the walls are gwins, springing from the cornice, supported by Ionick pilasters between the windows. The galleries rest upon small

A PHILOSOPHER cannot contemplate the face of nature without being struck as much by the goodness, as the wisdom of the Deity. In that little portion of his works, which is within the scope of human observation, we not only discover an endless variety of objects, perfect in themselves individually, and yet constituting a part of a great system, but almost every thing around us appears to be, and probably every thing within our world, however far that may be supposed to extend, is, admirably adapted, directly or indirectly, to promote the benefit and happiness of man.

But the benevolence of our creator is not more evident in the construction of the natural world, than in the moral constitution of our minds. It is true that every thing, which gives us delight, gradually ceases to please by its continuance or repetition. But, instead of

*This is not Cicero's language, but extracted from a letter of condolence and consolation, addressed to his daughter Julia. bim by his friend Servius Sulpicius, on the death o

subjecting us to a sense of irreparable privation, this only prompts us to seek new sources of gratification, and this is always practicable to a virtuous disposition. This innate restlessness, this constant succession of disgusts, or at least of indifference, to what gives us a temporary satisfaction, keeps the soul active and inquisitive, which enlarges its capacity and strengthens its powers. What seems therefore, at first glance, to be a defect in our nature, tends in fact to our perfectibility.

But, could our progressive insensibility to pleasure from the same cause be considered a defect in the constitution of our minds, we are indemnified in the corresponding feature, with respect to pain.

The motto of this essay was not intended to apply, and cannot be applied to that pain which arises from a privation of those things which are essential to life. No Stoick yet was ever so extravagant as to assert that we can so get used to hunger, as to feel indifferent to the cravings of appetite. But the aphorism applies, without exception, to the innumerable class of evils which produce sorrow of soul, independant of physical suffering.

It was both wise and benevolent so to form our minds, that, in prospect, the privation of any good should appear to us an evil; for this prompts us to use exertions to perpetuate our blessings. To avoid the regret, which we expect will be consequent to the loss of our property, we are circumspect and prudent To avoid the grief,which would follow the loss of those who are dear to us, we do all in our power to preserve their health and lives. But all our enjoyments, which depend on sublunary things, are uncertain and fugitive; a consciousness of this truth keeps us upon our guard; but no vigilance nor exertion can secure us against misfortune. The first impression of regret may be deep and severe; the first pang of grief may convulse the heart and appear intolerable; but heaven has not made us to be the victims of perpetual, anguish. Speaking of human sorrows, the sage, whose name I have adopted, justly remarks-est tarda illa quidem medicina, sed tamen magna, quam adfert longinquitas et dies;" time brings a slow but a powerful medicine."

Yet we should beware lest, in habitually personifying Time, we lose sight of a truth which ought to excite our gratitude to him who made us as we are. Time, strictly speaking, is not an agent that can produce any ef. fect on our minds. It is no other being than he who was before time began, that assuages our sorrows; or rather it was his good pleasure so to form our natures, and for wise purposes, that certain events should be grievous, but that all pain, depending solely on the state of mind, should, at every recurrence of thought to its cause, become less and less poignant, until at last all consciousness of it ceases; so that, as it is strongly expressed in the page of inspiration" sorrow may continue for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."

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author who was the pride of Rome, when she was the pride of human nature.

It is true,such an enterprize must be attended with very great expense, perseverance, attention, and labour, and was not to be rashly undertaken; but, so far as the scruples of the publishers, which seem to have some time postponed their decision, depended on a doubt of sufficient patronage, we could never imagine that they were well founded. We may possibly be sanguine in our calculations on the literary taste of our countrymen, but we should certainly suppose, that notwithstanding the present gloomy aspect of affairs, there must be, in the United States, at this moment, many more gentlemen of letters, able and desirous to obtain such a copy of Cicero, as is now presented by Messieurs Wells and Lilly, than their whole edition will supply. It is scarcely possibly, at present to import the work; were it possible, this edition will still be much cheaper than Ernesti's could be brought from Europe, and in elegance it very far surpasses the Leipsick copy. It is indeed a beautiful specimen of typography, and is an honourable proof of the rapid progress of the arts in the United States. We are confident that, as soon as its merit is known in England, there will be found there, men of critical discernment and taste, who will think the first American copy of all Cicero's works a valuable addition to their classical treasures.

Beauty of type and paper is of little consequence where it is the only recommendation, but we feel assured that the work before us will be no less distinguished for its accuracy. The editor is a gentleman well versed in classical pursuits, and long accustomed to the correcting of the press. Scholarship and this habit are seldom united, which renders our school book editions of Latin and Greek authors very exceptionable. It was this combination of qualities which have given the editions of classicks, published by the Stephens, Elzivirs, and Ernesti such celebrity through the republick of letters.

Gentlemen of critical discrimination will undoubtedly approve of the decision of the publishers in preferring Ernesti's Cicero, to any other. The Clavis or index is an appendage of very great convenience and utility, and the text is highly recommended. It is observed in Dibdin's "Introduction to the knowledge of rare and valuable editions of the Greek and Latin Classicks," that "no man, since the restoration of literature, has more contributed to the illustration of Cicero than John Augustus Ernesti."

to endeavour to do it at a proper time." In conformity to this idea, my friend Dr. Reverie always advises that every great work, either of a literary or mechanical nature, should finish at some appropriate era; and thinks that periodical labours, in particular, cannot end with more eclat, than with the end of the year. The Doctor, in his systems, and in the management of his smaller concerns, pays great respect to this kind of coincidences; if he has a very sick patient, he usually gives him over, after visiting him on Saturday night; and I once heard him say, he should rather finish his course here on the thirty-first day of December, than to have his life lengthened out six or eight months longer with nothing but a common and vulgar day to mark the end of it. Whilst he was upon this melancholy sub ject, it was an easy transition to the death of Julius Cæsar; and he very ingeniously made out, that as the a tronomical year began with the Equinox, the ides of March, according to the Roman manner of computing time, must have fallen within four or five days at least of the close of such a year.

'Tis true, our years are rather arbitrarily made to begin on the first day of January, and not when the sun is in any of the great points of the Zodiac; still however this great luminary has gone his round, and, to-morrow. will start from nearly the same place in the Ecliptic, from whence he took his departure the first day of this artificial and now expiring year.

Although I did not commence my journey with this illustrious traveller, I have kept pace with him since I fell into his company, and have dispensed my weekly favours to the world with as much punctuality, as he has his daily ones. Perhaps I have been oftener clouded, and at no time shone with quite so much brilliancy. My witty readers, if I have any, may rather compare me to the moon, and that, when she is not in her most fortunate phases: in this, however, I shall not feel offended, for if they will allow me to revolve any where, in the system of literature, I shall feel myself honoured in being considered as a secondary.

When I commenced a writer in the Spectator, I felt highly obliged to the good nature of the Editor in indulging me with his columns for the gratification of my prevailing humour; and took no little pleasure in seeing my lucubrations ushered into the world under such favourable auspices, and sent abroad in so good company. I hoped to continue my place in his paper till his types were worn out; but, like many other very honest people, I overnow constrained to acknowledge that one may fail in the attempt to amuse the world by weekly essays, who nevertheless made a very tolerable figure once a year in an Almanack.

While we are truly desirous that the pub-rated my talents, and am lishers may receive that support, and encouragement, which their enterprize and exertions richly deserve, we as anxiously hope that the political gloom, which, just at this time, envelops our unhappy country, will not check the laudable zeal, which had already displayed itself, for the sublime pursuits of literature. A taste for letters not only contributes a

There are other considerations also which

rather discourage me from continuing these my essays. The political state of our country renders it very difficult to be neutral, and

Seven lines from the close of " TULLY, No. I" for pleasure, of the purest and most exalted kind, still more difficult, if you are so, to prepare

passionable, read, passionate.

CICERONIS OPERA OMNIA.

ALL THE WORKS OF CICERO, PUBLISHING BY WELLS AND LILLY, Boston.

We sincerely congratulate the friends of classical literature and of the literary character of our country, on the appearance of the first volume of Cicero's Works, by Messrs Wells and Lilly. We regard it with pleasure, as the pledge of a complete, valuable, elegant, and cheap edition of all that remains of an

to him who possesses it, but gives character to society, dignity to manners, and stability to Freedom.

any thing that may suit the taste of the community who are not. I have often heard the political department of the Spectator spoken of by persons of taste and judgment in the highest terms of praise; but,when I eagerly inquirwelled how they liked "The Writer," they have answered they never read it. And whenever I have seen a person with this paper in his hands, I have waited with anxious hope and expectation to hear some grateful encomiums on my essays, but have always found, to my utter astonishment and mortification, that as soon as they come to "The Writer," they in

THE WRITER, No. XXXIII. THIS being the last day of the year, as as the last day of the month and of the week, I am forcibly admonished to close my periodical labours as a writer, and to give his paper as the last I shall offer for the improvement, instruction, or entertainment of my readers. I have somewhere seen it remarked "that next to doing a thing well, we ought

variably fold up the paper and pocket it, or throw it by, as unworthy a further perusal. I am determined however to bear all this neglect with good humour, and console myself with the reflection that the best works are of ten left for posterity to acknowledge their merits, and that neither Milton nor Shakspeare were much noticed by their cotemporaries. I shall now retire from before the publick, I hope with decency, conscious that I have corrupted no man's mind, if I have not reformed his manners. And, having made my appeal to posterity, have no particular obligations to express to the present generation, but sincerely wish a happy new year to the Editor and to my Country.

THE HISTORY OF CYRILLO PADOVANO, THE NOTED SLEEPWALKER.-AN EXTRACT,

Ir has often been a question in the schools, whether be preferable to be a king by day, and a beggar in our dreams by night; or, inverting the question, a beggar by day, and a monarch while sleeping? It has been usually decided, that the sleeping monarch was the happiest man, since he is supposed to enjoy all his happiness without contamination; while the monarch, in reality, feels the various inconveniencies that attend his station.

However this may be, there are none sure more miserable, than those who enjoy neither situation with any degree of comfort, but feel all the inconveniencies of want and of poverty by day, while they find a repetition of their misery in a dream. Of this kind was the famous Cyrillo Padovano, of whom a long life has been written; a man, if I may so express it, of a double character, who acted a very different part by night from what he professed in the day. Cyrillo was a native of Padua in Italy, a little, brown complexion'd man, and, while awake, remarkable for his simplicity, probity, piety, and candour; but, unfortunately for Lim, his dreams were of the strongest kind, and seemed to overturn the whole system of waking morality; for he every night walked in his sleep, and upon such occasions was a thief, a robber, and a plunderer of the dead.

The first remarkable exploit we are told of Cyrillo was at the university, where he shewed no great marks of learning, though some of assiduity. Upon a certain occasion his master set him a very long and difficult exercise, which Cyrillo found it impossible, as he supposed, to execute.-Depressed with this opinion, and in certain expectation of being chastised the next day, he went to bed quite dejected and uneasy but awaking in the morning, to his great surprise he found his exercise completely and perfectly finished, lying on his table, and, still mone extraordinary! written in his own hand This information he communicated to his master when he gave up his task, who being equally astonished with him, resolved to try him the next day with a longer and more difficult task, and to watch him at night when he retired to rest. Accordingly, Cyrillo was seen going to bed with great uneasiness, and soon was heard to sleep profoundly; but this did not continue long; for in about an hour after he lay down, he got up, alighted his candle, and sat down to study, where he completed his work as before.

A mind like Cyrillo's, not naturally very strong, and never at rest, began, when he arrived at manhood, to become gloomy, solicitous, and desponding. In consequence of this turn of thinking, he resolved to leave the world, and turn Carthusian, which is the most rigorous of all the religions orders Formed for a severe and abstemious life, he was here seen to set lessons of piety to the whole Convent, and to shew that he deserved the approbation as well of his fellows in seclusion, as of the whole order. But this good fame did not last long; for it was soon found that Cyrillo walked by night, and, as we are told of the fabled Penelope, undid in his sleep all the good actions for which he had been celebrated by day. The first pranks he played were of a light nature, very little more than running about from chamber to chamber, and talking a little more loosely, than became one of his professed piety. As it is against the rules of the fraternity to confine any man by force to his cell, he was permitted in this manner to walk about; and though there was nothing very edifying in his sleeping conversation, yet the Convent were content to overlook and pity his infirmities.

Being carefully observed upon one of these occasions, The following circunstances offered. One evening,hav.

ing fallen asleep on his chair in his cell, he continued immoveable for about an hour; but then turning about in the attitude of a listener, he laughed heartily at what he thought he heard spoken; then snapping his fingers, to shew he did not value the speaker, he turned towards the next person, and made a sign with his fingers, as if he wanted snuff: not being supplied, he seemed a little disconcerted; and pulling out his own box, in which there was nothing, he scraped the inside as if to find some; he next very carefully put up his box again; and looking round him with great suspicion, buttoned up the place of his frock where he kept it. In this manner he continued for some time immoveable; but, without any seeming cause, flew into a most outrageous passion, in which he spared neither oaths nor execrations; which so astonished and scandalized his brother Friars, that they left him to execrate alone.

nor

But it had been well, it poor Cyrillo went no farther had driven his sleeping extravagances into guilt. One night he was perceived going very busily up to the altar, and in a little beaufet beneath to rummage with some degree of assiduity. It is supposed that he wished to steal the plate which was usually deposited there, but which had accidentally been sent off the day before to be cleaned.--Disappointed in this, he seemed to be extremely enraged, but not caring to return to his cell empty-handed, he claps on one of the official silk vestments; and finding that he could carry still more, he put on one or two more over each other; and thus cumbrously accoutred, he stole off with a look of terrour to his cell: there hiding his ill-got finery be neath his matrass, he laid himself down to continue his nap. Those who had watched him during this interval, were willing to see his manner of behaving the morning after.

When Cyrillo awaked, he seemed at first a good deal surprised at the lump in the middle of his bed; and going to examine the cause, was still more astonished at the quantity of vestments that were bundled there he went among his fellows of the Convent, inquired how they care to be placed there, and learning the manner from them, nothing could exceed his penitence and contrition.

His last and greatest project was considered of a still more heinous nature. A Lady, who had long been a benefactor to the convent, happening to die, was desirous of being buried in the cloister, in a vault which she had made for that purpose. It was there

ance.

But what

that she was laid, adorned with much finery, and a part of her own jewels, of which she had great abundThe solemnity attending her funeral was magnificent, the expenses great, and the sermon affecting. In all this pomp of grief, none seemed more affected than Cyrillo, or set an example of sincerer mortification The society considered the deposition of their bene. factress among them as a very great honour, and masses in abundance were promised for her safety was the amazement of the whole convent the next day, when they found the vault in which she was deposited broke open, the body mangled, her fingers on which were some rings cut off, and all her finery carried away. Every person in the Convent was shocked at such barbarity, and Cyrillo was one of the foremost in condemning the sacrilege. However, shortly after, on going to his cell, having occasion to examine under his matrass, he there found that he alone was the guiltless plunderer. The Convent was soon made acquainted with his misfortune; and, at the general request of the fraternity, he was removed to another monastery, where the Prior had a power, by right, of confining his conventuals. Thus debarred from doing mischief, Cyrillo led the remainder of his life in piety and peace.

POETRY.

SELECTED.

DEATH OF ADAM.

Concluded from our last.

[The extract in the last Spectator described to us the symptoms of his approaching dissolution ;the present begins with his dying address.] "O ye, that shudder at this awful strife, This wrestling agony of Death and Life, Think not that He, on whom my soul is cast, 'Will leave me thus forsaken to the last; Nature's infirmity alone you see ; My chains are breaking, I shall soon be free; Though firm in God the Spirit holds her trust, The flesh is frail, and trembles into dust.

Horror and anguish seize me ;-'tis the hour Of darkness, and I mourn beneath its power The Tempter plies me with his direst art, I feel the Serpent coiling round my heart; 'He stirs the wound he once inflicted there, 'Instils the deadening poison of despair, 'Belies the truth of God's delaying grace,

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And bids me curse my Maker to his face. — I will not curse Him, though his grace delay; 'I will not cease to trust Him, though he slay; Full on his promised mercy I rely,

For God hath spoken,-God, who cannot lie. -'THOυ, of my faith the Author and the End ! Mine early, late, and everlasting Friend! The joy, that once thy presence gave, restore 'Ere I am summon'd hence, and seen no more; Down to the dust returns this earthly frame, Receive my Spirit, Lord! from whom it came : Rebuke the Tempter, shew thy power to save; O let thy glory light me to the grave, That these, who witness my depar ing breath, May learn to triumph in the grasp of Death.'

"He closed his eye-lids with a tranquil smile, And seem'd to rest in silent prayer awhile: Around his couch with filial awe we kneel'd, When suddenly a light from heaven reveal'd A Spirit, that stood within th' unopen'd door ;— The sword of God in his right hand he bore ; His countenance was lightning, and his vest Like snow at sun-rise on the mountain's crest ; Yet, so benignly beautiful his form,

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His presence still'd the fury of the storm;
At once the winds retire, the waters cease;
His look was love, his salutation "Peace!"

"Our Mother first beheld him, sore amazed,
But terror grew to transport, while she gazed :
'Tis He, the Prince of Seraphim, who drove
Our banish'd feet from Eden's happy grove ;*
Adam, my Life, my Spouse, awake!' she cried;
'Return to Paradise; behold thy Guide!
"O let me follow in this dear embrace :'
She sunk, and on his bosom hid her face.
Adam look'd up; his visage changed its hue,
Transform'd into an Angel's at the view:

I come!' he cried, with faith's full triumph fired, And in a sigh of ecstacy expired, The light was vanish'd, and the vision fled; We stood alone, the living with the dead : The ruddy embers, glimmering round the room, Display'd the corpse amidst the solemn gloom ; But o'er the scene a holy calm reposed, The gate of heaven had open'd there, and closed.

"Eve's faithful arm still clasp'd her lifeless Spouse;
Gently I shook it, from her trance to rouse ;
She gave no answer; motionless and cold,
It fell like clay from my relaxing hold;
Alarm'd I lifted up the locks of grey,

That hid her cheek; her soul had pass'd away;
A beauteous corse she graced her partner's side,
Love bound their lives, and Death could not divide.
"Trembling astonishment of grief we felt,
Till Nature's sympathies began to melt ; .
We wept in stillness through the long dark night :
--And O how welcome was the morning light !"
* Paradise Lost, Book XI. v 238.

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR
JOHN PARK,

BY MUNROE, FRANCIS AND PARKER,
NO. 4 CORNHILL.

Price three dollars per annum, half in advance.
New subscribers may be supplied with preceding Rumberj.

DEVOTED TO POLITICKS AND PELLES LETTRES.

VOL. I.

POLITICAL.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

REFLECTIONS

PREPARATORY TO THE DISCLOSURE OF THE PROCEEDINGS

OF THE NEW-ENGLAND CONVENTION.

THE regularly constituted government of a state or nation is invested with authority to carry its views into effect; it decides, and the governed obey, by choice or by force. The New-England Convention is a body of a different character; it grew out of the alarm and sufferings of the community; it was but a mode of ascertaining the degree of publick sensation, and the wisest plan for alleviating or obviating the general calamity, and if possible, to guard against the recurrence of the evils we are now experiencing, in future. This body has not, therefore, nor does it claim any compulsory power. It can only recommend, either directly to the people, or indirectly to their several legislatures, by whom they are legally represented. Yet if their propositions which are about to be announced are wise, (and if they are not, where shall we look among men for wisdom) we are bound to adopt and carry them into effect; not by any legal, but by that moral obligation, which makes it the duty of every individual in society, to do whatever his own and the common good requires.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, JANUARY 7, 1815.

to take counsel for us, are individuals who from every relation in which they stood to the community, must have desired nothing but the common good of their fellow citizens. Independent of their virtuous principles, and their sense of character, they must, from interest, abhor and oppose every thing tending to encourage a factious state of society. They are not brought from the depths of obscurity into distinction, by their agency in the convention plan; it was their long established respectability that pointed them out to their fellow citizens, in these perilous times, as deserving their confidence. Jacobinism, anarchy, civil commotions, offer no advantages to such men; but on the contrary, must endanger every thing they hold dear. We may therefore rest satisfied that their measures will have in view to support order, cherish unanimity, and maintain a state of general security rather than to increase the storm. They will suggest nothing, which, possessing the best means of knowledge, they do not consider as demanded by the present exigency; nothing, which, exercising their best judgment, they do not think expedient and practicable.

Deplorable indeed will be our fate, if the concentrated wisdom of the New-England states decides that nothing is to be attempted, to meliorate our condition! The alarm which, in spite of vapouring and romance, has eviEvery one knows what a dreadful state of dently reached the authors of our calamities, things, both in reality and prospect, suggested since a convention was proposed, will be conthe expedience of resorting to a popular con- verted into redoubled contempt, and be folvention. The people in several states, with-lowed by a vindictive persecution. Such a out consultation, spontaneously expressed their convictions that something must be done, and the Hartford Convention was appointed by them to inquire, what. Of this we feel persuaded, that this body, so con tituted, is our EAST HOPE; we have no alternative but to second the measures which may be proposed, or sit down in quiet despondence and meet our doom, without another effort.

Should they recommend weak measures, or nore at all, we may rely upon it that it will be because these good and intelligent men, bringing with them a knowledge of the people whom they represent, discover such a pusillanimity, such a dastardly tameness in the publick mind, that they would prefer being sacrificed, to redressing themselves. Mortifying as would be such a result, there is no possibility of saving a people who abandon themselves. The enlightened and firm patriot will perceive, that he can do no more for himself or his country: he must take his chance through the dark day of adversity, or bid adieu to his native soil. Whatever distresses follow, individual effort would only prod ce disorder; mobs and riots could produce no other effect than to strengthen the hand of tyranny, and aggravate the horrors of our situation.

Should they propose that some decisive steps be taken to recover our violated rights, and ward off impending destruction, let us bail the appeal with a hearty welcome, and cheerfully pledge ourselves to effect our deliverance. Of this we may be assured and it is a consideration at once grat ful and important. The gentlemen whom we have selected

result would not be imputed to a want of nerve, in the members of the convention, for it would be too absurd to suppose men timid, who are not expected to act. It would be considered, and justly as proof, that those who know us best, think an appeal to our spirit as fruitless parade.

. Precisely the same, or worse consequences will follow, if the Convention advise to steps for redress, and the peopie decline to carry them into effect. It will show that our characters have been overrated--that we can suffer, and whine, and even grumble; but that our spirit is literally our breath; cur indignation mere blustering; our love of liberty an idle tradition handed down from fathers, to whose manes and virtues we are a disgrace. It will rivet the chains of our vassalage Mr. Madison wil recover his hearth and his confidence; his cabal will sneer at our affectation of principles which we do not possess, of energy to which we are strangers.

We may

then "resolve," as we have often done, that "there is a point at which oppression be" comes fatolerable, and will not be endured" -our tyrants will then chuckle and felicitate themselves that Yankees will never feel, that they have arrived at that point. Then shall we receive, and what is worse, deserve "The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.”

Then shall we be left a defenceless prey to an eneiny, set upon us by domestick foes-insuitingly told to fight our own batties, and yet be compelled to surrender the last dollar of our hard eamed property, the subsistence of our chudien, to be squandered in levying ar

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NO. LIV.

mies to enforce the requisitions of our imperi

ous masters.

From the well known discretion, and enlightened politicks of the gentlemen composing the convention, we may be assured, they will recommend no demand, that shall not be strictly just and reasonable. A sort of epidemick alarm seems to have pervaded all classes of politicians at the southward. guilty consciences of many have excited apprehensions which have no just foundation; and the misrepresentations of the designing have induced some of our friends to mistrust our prudence. But when the proceedings at Hartford are disclosed to the world, the suspicions of our southern friends will be removed. They will see that our statesmen are not actuated by a vindictive policy that they have kept a steady eye upon the interests of the whole republick; that it is no project of their's to aggrandize one section of the Union, to the degradation of another. Instead of embittering local animosities and prejudices, we hope to secure the approbation of men of sense and candour, in every part of the country. The only dictate we offer to any state, states, or the general government is, that they shall not sacrifice New England. Let us enjoy the standing we held when we united in confederation; le. us be restored to those advantages, and secured in those rights, which it was the professed object of the federal constitution to cherish and maintain, and we ask no more. Does any man presume to say this is requiring too much? Will any correct politician, any real friend to our country say, we must be satisfied with less?

The present is an interesting crisis, both as it respects our character and our destiny; but we are not without a hope, that the present collision wil terminate in an improvement of our government, in a correction of abuses, which have become insupportable, and are universally censured; and, ultimately, in a better understanding and increased confidence between the sister states, now and long regarding each other, as inveterate foes.

THE government paper has vented its reproaches on the state, or rather the government of Massachusetts, because that portion of the commonwealth, which lies east of Penobscot river is suffered to remain in the possession of the English.

There is no doubt, now, while we apprehend no expedition against any other part of the state, but this commonwealth still has the means at command, which would be sufficient to drive the British garrison from Castine; but why should we undertake such an enterprize

The neutrality of this part of the state is a real and great advantage to the United States, as it facilitates the introduction of immense quantities of merchandize, of which there was a general scarcity, and a pressing demand.

The neutrality of this part of the state is of advantage to the rest of the commonwealth ; for while we are every day becoming poorer, more incapable of paying taxes, and possessing less and less to tax, they are secure, prosperous, and acquiring wealth by a brisk

and profitable commerce. The British claim, only a military possession, and do not interfere with any of the relations of the inhabitants to the state. After the peace, it is expected this section will be restored to us, with all its "betterments," by which the commonwealth will be considerably benefitted.

The inhabitants of this part of the state only pray that, during the war, we should suffer them to enjoy their repose. They probably wish and expect an ultimate reunion with the United States; but they are now free from all alarm. They enjoy many local, exclusive advantages. The utmost the government of this state could do would be to dispossess the enemy for the moment-we could not prevent his return; and were he to return, which he undoubtedly would, they could not expect that easy transition from one master to another, which they have once experienced. They are well aware that by becoming the theatre of war, their shores would become the scene of horrors, which they have hitherto wholly escaped. A Massachusetts army, merely to expel the invaders would meet with a cold reception from the inhabitants of the neutral counties; they would impute to us no motive but that "misery loves company." They would consider us as actuated rather by envy, than friendship. We have no motive of local honour to stimulate as to such a very expensive project; for it is no disgrace to Massachusetts not to perform alone, what a government controling the whole resources, military and pecuniary, of seven millions of people, does not think it judicious to attempt. Fifteen hundred men drove the federal government from Washington; it can be no reproach that two thousand troops took possession of a small peninsula,at a distance of near three hundred miles from our metropolis.

There are many other reasons why we should reconcile ourselves, for the present, to the uti possidetis. If peace arrives with Spring, it would be an officious and wanton waste of blood and treasure on our part, (for exchequer bills will not answer in Massachusetts), and our expedition would not be over, before we should learn that it was unnecessary. If peace does not come with Spring, we shall either want all our means to defend what remains of our commonwealth; or we shall

constituting that compact; as no farther valid than they are authorized by the grants in that compact; and that in case of a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of other powers, not granted by the said compact, the states who are parties thereto, have the right, and are in duty bound to interpose, for arresting the progress of the evil, and for maintaining, within their respective limits, the authorities, rights, and liberties appertaining to them." In commenting on the last resolve, the Assembly adopted the following remarks. "It appears to your committee to be a plain principle, founded in common sense, illustrated by common practice, and essential to the nature of compacts; that where resort can be had to no tribunal superiour to the authority of the parties, the parties themselves must be the rightful judges in the last resort, whether the bargain made has been pursued or violated. The constitution of the United States was formed by the sanction of the states, given by each in its sovereign capacity. It adds to the stability and dignity, as well as to the authority of the constitution, that it rests on this legitimate and solid foundation. The states. then being the parties of the constitutional compact, and in their sovereign capacity, it follows of necessity, that there can be no tribunal above their authority, to decide, in the last resort, whether the compact made by them be violated; and consequently, that as parties to it, they must themselves decide, in the last resort, such questions as may be of sufficient magnitude to require their interposition."

In another place they add-"If the deliberate exercise of dangerous powers, palpably withheld by the constitution, could not justify the parties to it, in interposing, even so far as to arrest the progress of the evil, and to preserve the constitution itself, as well as to provide for the safety of the parties to it; there would be an end to all relief from usurped power, and a direct subversion of the rights specified or recognized under all the state constitutions, as well as a plain denial of the fundamental principle upon which our independence itself was declared.”

GENERAL REGISTER.

was reported that the Constitution had fallen in with the Maidstone frigate, but that the latter had effected her escape, after receiving a broadside or two, and had arrived at Halifax.

It is rumoured a third time that the Wasp is taken, and it is now said, by a brig, manned with a select crew, from a British frigate, off Charleston.

There are now but very few British vessels in the Chesapeake. All is quiet in that quarter. The Legislature of South Carolina have authorized the Governour of that state to advance to the United States troops under Gen. Pinckney 260,000 dollars, in anticipation of their direct tax.

The spotted fever is raging with great violence in Berwick, and has appeared in other towns, in the vicinity of Portsmouth. It is not true that Mr. Crowninshield declined accepting the Secretaryship of the Navy. He has gone on to Washington.

CONGRESS. On the 28th December, the Conscription bill received its quietus, in the Senate, where it originated, by the prevalence of a motion to postpone the further consideration of the subject to the second Monday in March next, when the session will have closed.

Another week has been spent in discussing the project of a National Bank; but no plan has yet been adopted.

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THIS is as true at this day, as it was two thousand years ago, and it is certainly one of the most extraordinary, unaccountable features in the human character. It is this principle that keeps the press groaning under its load of wonders, from "The little naughty boy, who was torn in pieces by a bear," stitched in blue, up to the splendid " Book of the Mar

make a peace for ourselves, which will in- BOSTON, SATURDAY, JANUARY 7, 1815. tyrs," bound in calf and gilt. It is the secret

clude the restoration of our eastern friends.

VIRGINIAN DOCTRINE.

IN December 1798,the General Assembly of Virginia passed several resolutions, which were submitted to the consideration of the Legislatures of other states. Objections having been offered either to their principles, or the application of them, under the circumstances which then existed, they were again discussed by the Assembly in 1800, and renewedly adopted as the deliberate and settled opinion of that body.

The second of the Resolutions was as follows. "The General Assembly most solemnly declares a warm attachment to the union of the states, to maintain which, it pledges all its powers; and that for this end, it is their duty to watch over, and OPPOSE every infraction of those principles, which constitute the ONLY BASIS OF THAT UNION, because a faithful observance of them, can alone secure its existence and the publick happiness."

The third resolve was," That this Assembly doth explicitly and peremptorily declare, that it views the powers of the federal government, as resulting from the compact, to which the states are parties, as limited by the plain sense and intention of the instrument

FOREIGN. London dates have been received by the way of Halifax. to the 3d Nov. Norway is not yet tranquil. The Crown Prince of Sweden has ordered his army to march in and take possession of the country by force.

to resume the title of Emperour of Germany. It is said the Emperour of Austria refuses The ministers at Vienna,had not completed their arrangements so that the Congress could be re-opened, so late as the 19th of October.

that enables any editor, whose grand object is money, without regard to utility or his reputation, to publish a very popular, lucrative newspaper, while he who soberly treats of the dearest concerns of society, is sure to find himself honoured with a very select patronage. Deal liberally with what is usually termattractive, the mass of readers will seek and ed shocking, but what in truth is every where peruse your publications with unsatiated avidity. Only let an article be conspicuously headed-Fatal Catastrophe!-Dreadful Accident !-Disastrous Earthquake!-Destructive Fire !-Tremendous Hurricane !—or HORRID MURDER! man, woman, and child will even drop the bible to get the paper. I doubt whether Coleman, with all his sound sense, and promptitude in discussing important questions, has, for years, issued a paper so eagerly perused, as that which contained a description of the beer vat's bursting in LonDOMESTICK. Accounts have been receiv-don, which overturned houses, and buried the ed and appear entitled to credit, that a British inhabitants under their ruins. expedition, consisting of about 60 sail, arrived at the mouth of the Mississippi, on the 10th of December.

A convoy from Plymouth sailed for North America the 25th of October, with about 3000 troops. It was reported that Lieut. Gen. Kempt would command in Canada, and Gen. Pakenham on the coast. Reinforcements are still constantly collecting, destined for this country. It is said many of the disposable troops not required for the American war will be sent to India.

A schooner has arrived off New-London, which left Halifax on the 27th ult. where it

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I shall not pretend to account for a propensity which has puzzled wiser heads. Some have referred to it as proof, that there is an inherent malignity in the nature of man, that prompts him to delight in the miseries and

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