Слике страница
PDF
ePub

curity, and happiness of all the members of the community over which they presided."

There is no doubt but the restrictions, practised in India, enable them to attain the highest degree of excellence in those arts which they cultivate; but it is no less evident that the useful diversity of occupation and those frequent discoveries of new arts, which mark the progress of society in other parts of the world, facilitate the means of subsistence and expand the human mind. The greatest evil that results from our perfect freedom, in this respect, is that perpetual change of object which we not unfrequently observe, rendering a whole life of active employment almost fruitless, and that too among men on whom nature has bestowed intellectual powers, which might secure both wealth and respectability, if directed by a regular plan of operation. It is a truth to be regretted, but confirmed by experience, that brilliance of mind and perseverance are seldom united. The dull plodder often succeeds in providing richly for himself and family, perhaps even in acquiring fame; while genius, ever struck by novelty and fluctuating in every pursuit, leaves the possessor in poverty and obscurity.

The choice of an occupation is one of the earliest and most important decisions a young man is called to make. It is one, in which he should be aided by the mature judgment of parents, the council of intelligent friends, and a careful examination of his own disposition and capacity. Let him guard against the fervour of youthful expectation, which leads to disappointment, and of course to a rash dereliction of his plan. Let him reflect, that there is no profession, no business of life, unattended by obstacles and embarrassments-that industry and perseverance can conquer seemingly insuperable difficulties that though an ill judged and ineffectual pertinacity is not in possible, fickleness is a more common and more dangerous errour.

The history of my friend CHRYSALIS has impressed my mind strongly with the folly of a mutable disposition, in the plan of life. He completed his education at a period of life, earlier than usual; a circumstance which I am persuaded often leads to unfavourable consequences. His parents left him free to choose his course, but expressed a wish that, in due time, he should qualify himself for the desk. As yet too young to engage in theological studies, he amused himself in a variety of literary pastime, keeping an eye, however, upon his expected destination. But in the course of the year, in which he was thus employed, he became intimate with a young gentleman, a student under an eminent physician. The cu. riosity of CHRYSALIS led him to pay some at tention to the books, with which his friend was zealously and pleasantly engaged. He was delighted-informed his parents of his inclination to change his object, and with their consent commenced the study of medicine. He had nearly completed the usual term, when he was introduced to two young merchants, who had spent a few years in Virginia, in commerce, at that time when our commerce was in its highest state of prosperity. They had both been very fortunate, were in excellent business, and had only come to visit their friends, and avoid the sickly season. They became much attached to Chrysalis--they expected to make fortunes themselves, and assured bim, he might do the same, Their suc cess was dazzling-one of the friends made a liberal proposition-CHRYSALIS was yet young, sanguine, and inexperienced. The result was, in Autumn he embarked with them for Norfolk in Virginia. PROSPER was as good as his

word—he took the unfledged Doctor into his
Compting-Room, taught him "single and
double entry," and in a few months left him in
charge of the business, while he himself went
on speculations up the rivers. A compting
room to a man of letters! Poor CHRYSALIS
began soon to pine for that food to which he
had long been accustomed. Street's boarding-
house, filled with speculators, to a man who
had almost lived in a library, was a change
which could not but disgust. But he hoped
for indemnification for the sacrifice of intellec-
tual enjoyment, in the rapid acquisition of
property, and promised himself to return in a
few years, and establish himself agreeably, in
"the head quarters of good principles."

his wife and two children to Tennessee. He has been assured that there are many families in that state, immensely rich, who would liberally endow an institution, for the education. their youth, could they find a person suited to the charge of it. Chrysalis has gone to found a college, though with scarcely means, after all his enterprizes, to build himself a house!

THE WRITER, No. V.

It is said, I believe of the Athenians, or of the Lacedemonians, that they used to intoxicate their slaves, and then expose them as ridiculous objects to their children, and as examples to deter them from the odious vice of drunkenAs I believe this a better way than argument, I shall follow up the idea of these Grecian sages, and present my fellow citizens the portrait of a drunkard, with a view to excite their detestation and abhorrence of that degrading and ruinous vice.

The following is a journal of a drunken gentleman, for one week. If some part of it should occasion disgust as well as abhorrence, my readers must pardon me; for although it is my desire and intention never to violate the rules of decency, to offend in any respect the sensibility of modesty or the purity of taste, yet, in exposing so impure a vice as intemperance, we can hardly avoid depicting scenes which are nauseous.

urged the to go, but don't feel composed very dry took some brandy and water, strong.

PROSPER was but the branch of an extensiveness. house in Boston. The principal failed, and PROSPER was involved. CHRYSALIS, at one blow saw all his expectations blasted; but pride prevented his return. An acquaintance made him a proposal to go as supercargo with flour to the West Indies. Though somewhat discouraged, he would probably have engaged, had not a physician of the city offered other advice which was more palatable. This gentleman had spent some time in the West Indies, as a practitioner, and came to America for his health. He offered introductory letters to the Inspector-General of Hospitals in one of the Windward Islands, and recommended to CHRYSALIS to get admission into the Hospital for a few months, to learn the diseases and practice Sunday, 9 o'clock-disturbed by the bells of the climate; and then assured him that a ringing for church-half past 9, got up-head few years private business, would enable him ache as usual-don't know how I got home last to return in affluence. CHRYSALIS went to night-dare not ask my wife, for I see she Martinique-was admitted into the hospital as looks melancholy-[N. B. my coat and pantaan assistant surgeon-remained there a year; loons appear to have been muddy, although I and then began private practice. He was suc- believe my wife has been endeavouring to cessful, and in a few months the only Ameri- clean them]-sick-no appetite-half past 10 can physician in the place sailed for the Uni-o'clock Wife and children gone to meeting ted States. Perseverance here might have accomplished my friend's purpose. But this year happened to be uncommonly healthy; Doctors' business was dull. A new friend advised by all means to go to Port-au-Prince in St. Domingo, where Death and the Doctors were in constant conflict. CHRYSALIS set sail, and was soon in Port-au-Prince, and admitted into the medical staff, which he had found not incompatible with private practice. In two years he was about returning; not rich, but with enough to prevent a blush on meeting his friends: but he must again dabble in commerce. He purchased an article which was then scarce. It was hardly placed in store, before a Spanish prize ship was brought in, whose cargo would have supplied the whole island with CHRYSALIS's merchandize. But he had indulged the thought of revisiting his native country, and it was now irksome to prolong his absence; besides, the port where he had resided was soon to be surrendered to the black general Toussaint. He returned to New England-settled in a pleasant village, in his profession-married-engaged with a friend in a grand manufacturing plan. It promised well; but his friend was as unsteady as himself--in a few years, after several improvements, it was abandoned.

11, took another tumbler-half past 11, not having eaten any breakfast, drank alittle more brandy and water.-12 o'clock. Never have an appetite for dinner without a little forcingtook some brandy and water-half past 12, dinner-brandy all out-sent Mary for another bottle, wife begged me not to send to the shops on Sunday-must have some brandy, can't eat without-drank only two tumblers at table-then slept till 3 o'clock-awoke parched with thirst-took some brandy and water. Half past 3. Drank another tumbler-from 4 to 6, not quite so dry, drank but two or three times-evening, wife assembled the children to read the Bible-didn't like what they read about a drunkard-I am glad, however, I am sober to-day.-7 o'clock. Went out to walksoon tired-stept in at the sign of to rest-good company-sat down and drank something, and past the evening in conversation and smoking a few cigars.-11. Got home without help, though from the badness of the pavements fell twice, and the streets were so confounded muddy, most ashamed my wife should see me.-Half past 11 Went to bed.

Monday. Awoke at 10-got up-head ache and sick-took two glasses of brandy to correct Were it not too tedious, and my limits al- the nausea of the stomach-eat nothing-my most occupied, I might detail the particulars wife desired I would not go out, and said, of about half a dozen other changes. I re-kindly, I looked too unwell to be abroadmonstrated and expostulated with him on the wanted to see R, met him at the sign of certain consequences of such inconstancy, and After we had been to the polls-took observed that he had found the proverb true, a glass together-more company came in-all "A rolling stone gathers no moss." He im- voted for Mr. D; offered to treat usmediately replied from Cicero to Atticus, "Ne-accepted-treated them in our turn-2 o'clock. mo doctus mutationem consilii inconstantiam Concluded not to go home to dinner-called dixit esse." I found he could persevere in for a beef-steak.-4 o'clock. Waiter told me I fickleness, and that alone. CHRYSALIS, at last, had had eight glasses grog-I am sure, I converted what property he had into cash; took have drank but six-§. A quarrel between

R

and G; I interfered-got knocked down-obliged to be carried home with my face much bruised-wife appeared distrest, but ame and bathed my wounds, gave me some warm tea, and helped me to bed-waked in the night, and found her crying.

Tuesday. Rose at 10-face sore, one eye very black--headache still hangs on me, strange nothing will cure it--wife brought me some coffee, which she said she had made good on purpose for me--could not drink it till I had taken a glass of brandy--promised my wife I would not go out to-day--from 11 to 1, drank four or five glasses.--2. Dined, after taking another forcer--no appetite, can't always force.--3. Put a patch over my eye, and went out, my wife reminded me of my promise, and I thought I saw tears in her eyes, although she turned away her face to conceal them--went to the sign of

Wednesday. 9 o'clock, waked and found myself at home, lying on the bed with my clothes and boots on, all very much soiled with street dirt--don't remember how I came home --very sick, foul stomach--nausea at last | suddenly relieved--my wife came and helped shift my clothes, and put me into a clean bed --slept comfortably, (except some bad dreams) till 1 P. M.--found my wife sitting by my side with her work; she asked me how I felt, and what I would have--told her, to give me a glass of brandy--she said, I'd better take a little hot tea or coffee--told her, pettishly, to bring the brandy.--2 o'clock. Drank two forcers and eat a slice of bacon.--4. At the sign of

.

this week of sin and folly-this week of brutish
insensibility ?-Oh where is my angel wife !!

POETRY.

SELECTED.

FROM LORD BYRON'S « CORSAIR.”

Continued.

SUN SETTING IN GREECE.
"SLOW sinks, more lovely ere his race be run,
Along Morea's hills the setting sun;
Not as in Northern climes obscurely bright,
But one unclouded blaze of living light!
O'er the husl.'d deep the yellow beam he throws,
Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.
On old Egina's rock, and Idra's isle,
The god of gladness sheds his parting smile :
O'er his own regions lingering loves to shine,
Though there his altars are no more divine.
Descending fast the mountain shadows kiss
Thy glorious gulf, unconquer'd Salamis !
Their azure arches through the long expanse
More deeply purpled meet his inellowing glance,
And tenderest tints, along their summits driven,
Mark his gay course and own the hues of heaven;
Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep,
Behind his Delphian cliff he sinks to sleep." Page 61.

DEATH OF SOCRATES―[immediately following the
last fragment.]

"On such an eve, his palest beam he cast,
When-Athens ! here thy wisest look'd his last.
How watched thy better sons his farewell ray,
That closed their murder'd sage's latest day!
Not yet-not yet-Sol pauses on the hill-
The precious hour of parting lingers still ;
But sad his light to agonizing eyes

And dark the mountain's once delightful dyes :
Gloom o'er the lovely land he seem'd to pour,
The land, where Phaebus never frown'd before,
But ere he sunk below Cytheron's head,

Page 62.

Thursday. Found myself in a cellar by the
market--don't know when or how I came
here-felt sick--call'd for a glass of brandy-
barman said I'd had two dollars' worth of li-
quor already-felt for my pocket-book-mier in
--had a hundred dollars in it when I came
from home--no money now, barman wouldn't
trust--called a hack, and drove home at 4 P.M.
--children all glad to see me as I had been out
so long-had nothing to give them-my wife
prepared me some dinner--eat but little--The cup of woe was quaff'd—the spirit fled !”
could not bear to see her look so kindly on
me--found fault with every thing she did-
couldn't vex her---too much to endure all this
good nature and forbearance--called a hack
again, and rode down to sign of
Met
old companions.
Friday, 11 o'clock. Waked and called the
waiter to bring the brandy-thought I was at
the sign of
My wife came, and ask-
ed if I would have some breakfast-told her I
must have some brandy first-drank two glass-
es, seemed to feel better, so took some more-
my wife asked me, if I could spare any money
to get the children shoes-had none for her,
but didn't like to tell her I had lost my pocket-
book.-12. A little brandy and water-can't
drink with any pleasure before my wife, so
went to the sign of ———- 6 o'clock, formed
a party, and sat down to enjoy ourselves. 12.
Company broke up-couldn't walk, believe I've
drank a little too much-got home in a hack-
hackman let me fall at the door-clumsy ras-
cal-alarmed my wife.

THE SHOCK OF GRIEF.
"Something they would have said; but seemed to
fear

[ocr errors]

Saturday, 10 o'clock. Waked-called to know why the bells are ringing-Mary told me 'twas meeting-time-told her it could not be Sunday, for I had-kept a journal, and noted every day in the week-Mary, with her saucy impertinence, said, that all one day I was not myself.

To trust their accents to MEDORA's ear.
She saw at once, yet sunk not-trembled not-
Beneath that grief-that loneliness of lot-
Within that meek fair form where feelings high,
That deem'd not till they found their energy,
All lost-that softness died not-but it slept-
While yet was Hope-they soften'd-flutter'd-wept-
And o'er its slumber rose that Strength which said,
"With nothing left to love-there's nought to dread."
'Tis more than nature's ; like the burning might
Delirium gathers from the fever's height.

"Silent you stand-nor would I hear you tell
What-speak not-breathe not-for I know it well-
Yet would I ask-almost my lip denies

The quick your answer-tell me where he lies !"
"Lady! we know not-scarce with life we fled;
But here is one denies that he is dead;
He saw him bound; and bleeding-but alive."
She heard no further-'twas in vain to strive-
So throbb'd each vein-each thought-till then with-
stood;

Her own dark soul-these words at once subdued-
She totters-fall-and senseless had the wave

Have I then lost one whole day ? This,
however, is awful to have no recollection of
day passed terrifies me-but have I not also lost
a week?-Oh! worse than lost it-Oh! how
may the remnant of life be passed to atone for | Baise-fan-sustain-till life returns anew;

Perchance but snatch'd her from another grave ;
But that with hands though rude, yet weeping eyes,
They yield such aid as Pity's haste supplies :
Dash o'er her deathlike cheek the ocean dew,

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

"The fourth day roll'd along-and with the night
Came storm and darkness in their mingling might :
Oh! how he listen'd to the rushing deep,
That ne'er till now so broke upon his sleep;
And his wild spirit wilder wishes sent,
Roused by the roar of his own element !
Oft had he ridden on that winged wave,
And loved its roughness for the speed it gave ;
And now its dashing echoed on his ear,
A long known voice-alas! too vainly near!
Loud sung the wind above-and, doubly loud,
Shook o'er his turret cell the thunder-cloud;
And flash'd the lightning by the lattice bar,
To him more genial than the midnight star >
Close to the glimmering grate he dragg'd his chain,
And hoped that peril might not prove in vain.
He raised his iron hand to Heaven, and prayed
One pitying flash to mar the form it made :
His steel and impious prayer attract alike—
The storm roll'd onward and disdain'd to strike;
Its peal wased fainter-ceased he felt alone,
As if some faithless friend had spurn'd his groan!"
Page 78,

HOME FROM SEA.

"Oh! what can sanctify the joys of home, Like Hope's gay glance from Ocean's troubled foam !

.

Page 89.

AN INTERESTING PICTURE.
"He turn'd not-spoke not-sunk not-fix'd his
look,

And set the anxious frame that lately shook :
He gazed-how long we gaze despite of pain,
And know-but dare not own we gaze in vain!
In life itself she was so still and fair,
That death with gentler aspect withered there ;
And the cold flowers her colder hand contain'd,
In that last grasp as tenderly were strain'd
As if she scarcely felt, but feign'd a sleep,
And made it almost mock'ry yet to weep.
The long dark lashes fringed her lids of snow-
And veil'd-thought shrinks from all that lurk'd below-
Oh! o'er the eye death most exerts his might,
And hurls the spirit from her throne of light!
Sinks those blue orbs in that long last eclipse,
But spares, as yet, the charm around her lips-
Yet-yet they seem as they forebore to smile,
And wish'd repose-but only for a while;
But the white shroud, and each extended tress,
Long-fair-but spread in utter lifelessness,
Which, late the sport of every summer wind,
Escaped the baffled wreath that strove to bind
These-and the pale pure cheek, became the bier-
But she is nothing-wherefore is he here?" Page 90.

SPEECHLESS SORROW.

[ocr errors]

"By those, that deepest feel, is ill exprest
The indistinctness of the suffering breast;
Where thousand thoughts begin to end in one,
Which seeks from all the refuge found in none;
No words suffice the secret soul to show,
And Truth denies all eloquence to Woe." Page 92.

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. 1.

DEVOTED TO POLITICKS AND BELLES LETTRES.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 18, 1814.

NO. XXV.

POLITICAL.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR. AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. FOR many years past, the return of the Anniversary of American Independence has brought sickness of heart, and melancholy to the mind of every enlightened and patriotick citizen of the United States. The pageants which vanity, frivolity, or the stratobip of pare ties displayed on the occasion, were but the memorials of departed blessings-the upbraid. ing mementos of days of glory, acquired and enjoyed by our fathers, forfeited and lost by a degenerate offspring. From the day that Genet set our municipal laws at defiance, to the insolent declaration by Bonaparte, that we were at war with Great-Britain, though our government professed peace, our unhappy republick

had not ceased to become more and more en

thralled by foreign control. Our processions, orations, toasts, and salutes were but a privileged farce, concealing not from the world, but

ourselves, our danger and our disgrace.

Thanks to the great God of our forefathers, the spell of national delusion, we trust, is at last dissolved. We have not resisted the proud dictator who drained us of our wea th and ruined our prosperity, but he is destroyed. With him end his extortion, his edicts, and, we hope. his influence. The tyrant of Berlin and Milan, names which stamp dishonour on the page of American history, is a harmless outcast and fugitive, solemnly stigmatized by the great nation he fately ruled, as a perjure; Despot as such, dethroned-disarmed and banished. We now may breathe again. We now may hail the return of the Fourth of July as citizens of a free and independent nation.

We are at war it is true-it is a melancholy truth-yet not at war for our independence, but against that of Great-Britain. The folly of such an attempt is now hopeless; and peace, please Heaven, is not far distant-a peace from which we see yet no reason to apprehend the sacrifice of our national rights.

Our orators have now a new and glorious field opened to their eloquence; for the conquests at Saratoga and Yorktown are surpassed in importance to our country, by the humiliation of revolutionary France. then, welcome once more, the Anniversary of our Independence.

THE TEST.

Welcome,

TO look at some of our democratick papers, one would suppose that the restoration of the Bourbons was an event, in which both political parties take great and equal satisfaction. But, as the joy of our opponents is a hypocritical farce, to conceal their bitter and hopeless mortification, it wants the consistency of truth-it glows in their language, but their looks and actions belie their professions.

If the excellent government, a limited monarchy, which is now about being established in France, is the fruit of the great Napoleon's exertions; if our democrats indeed rejoice at the close of the French revolution, why do they not join heart and hand with the federalists, in their rejoicing, their festivity, and their grati

tude? Why do they go mourning about the|ing to crush every feeling of patriotism, and
streets, or hide themselves from the light of every manly sentiment; proclaiming an exter-
the glorious sun? If they have any joy, it minating war against human liberty, virtue, and
seems to be like that of the son of Fingal the happiness. We saw it inflicting misery upon
its victims till their courage was gone, till they
joy of grief.
were compelled to stifle their very groans, till
they resigned themselves to despair.

So ignorant and so credulous are those be-
It was a time of universal dismay-a day of
ings, who take their information from such
clouds and thick darkness. There was
papers as the Chronicle, we have no doubt the
mass of them may be blinded, for a time, to
the blow they have received. This delusion nothing in prospect to support or encourage
would be vexatious to us, did we not know it hope, no visible means of arresting the destroy-
er in his course and saving the world from
could be of no avail. It is not of the least con-
slavery, nothing in short to console the philan-
sequence, what the French faction among us
believe. Henceforth, there can arrive no des-thropist but confidence in the over-ruling, the
ever watchful, the benevolent providence of the
patches from France to dictate, to demand, to
P. 4-5.
Supreme Being."
PROCLAIM a war against Great-Britain for us.
Those days we have seen, but, thank God, they
are over, If messengers now come from that
part of the world, they come from one, whose
gratitude to the British nation, for their long,
arduous, and triumphant struggle against the
foe of mankind, is unbounded. We must be
reconciled to Great-Britain, or we shall even-
tually be deemed an enemy by France, and by servility of the government, and in the degrad-
ALL the powers of Europe. The pretence of ing character and growing depravity of the peo-
the freedom of the seas, which was but a shal-ple? Can we forget the anguish, with which
low cover for hostility to the unquestionable these great men saw their country associating
itself with the fortunes of this sanguinary ty-
rights of every maritime power, has now
champion, but the fugitive, imprisoned for life,
to feed on remorse, in the island of Elba.

no

No; instead of feeling indignation at the harmless affectation of joy, for the restoration of the Bourbons, which it is thought politick to exhibit, we are amused. It resembles the unconscious folly of a person who has been breathing factitious air-take the bag from his mouth, and he continues to puff, and pant, and stare, as though he were still inhaling the intoxicating gas, to the great diversion of sober spectators. But he soon sinks, for the want of supply, and then finds he has been playing the

fool.

[ocr errors]

EXTRACTS FROM REV. MR. CARY'S SERMON,
DELIVERED BEFORE THE ANCIENT AND HONOURABLE ARTII-

"Can we forget the impassioned tone of eloquence, in which our statesmen and orators declared to their countrymen, that the same fatal influence, which had destroyed the ener gies of Europe, had extended itself to our own shores, and was already visible in the base

rant, and throwing at his feet the noble inheritance, which had been purchased with the blood of its best citizens? We thought of the consequences of this most hateful union. It was a theme, on which our emotions were unutterable; on which we dwelt, "till our hearts gre liquid, and we could have poured P. 8. them

"We have now seen the justice of the Supreme Being manifested in the utter ruin of It is now proved this tremendous despotism. to have been a scourge in his hands, inflicting misery under his eye, and in such degree and to such extent, as his perfect wisdom determined to be right. It was permitted to rise, like a malignant star, to a fearful elevation, and to "shake pestilence from its horrid hair," LERY COMPANY, AT THEIR 177TH ANNIVERSA RY, till the mysterious purpose of heaven was "LET us endeavour to recal some of those accomplished; and then God stretched forth apprehensions, which, not many months ago, his hand, and it sunk forever. There is nothmade every good and every thoughtful man among us tremble for himself and for mankind. ing since the miraculous victories of the Old What a spectacle of horror, of cold-hearted, Testament, which has demonstrated the divine merciless tyranny, of the irresistible and tri- interposition so clearly, as this great act of umphant career of vice was at that time retribution; nothing which has taken place so directly in opposition to the strongest huexhibited in Europe! We saw a despotism, of a character totally unknown in modern history, man probabilities, or to which human causes, even in the eye of the most intelligent obmore ferocious and more extensive than the servers, appeared so totally inadequate. Could soundest politicians had believed could have we have believed, that a force so immense and existed in an advanced and enlightened state of society, establishing itself, upon the ruin of irresistible as that which invaded the north of old and venerable habits, principles and insti- Furope, a body of disciplined warriors, a mass, tutions ;-a despotism possessing all the worst vigorous, active, intelligent, in proportion to its magnitude; animated by the most powerfeatures of the ancient governments, with more ful of human passions; supported by the acexperience, more profound views of human nature, more skill in applying itself to the cumulated resources of Europe; conducted character, the favourite prejudices, the corrupt by a leader, accustomed to see victory hoverpassions and sympathies of mankind;-a dread-ing about his standard, whose very name parfel despotism, which held both soul and body alyzed the strength of his antagonists; and in its chains. We saw it advancing with an opposed by a people without political or millimpetuosity, which confounded all calculations tary renown, and degraded by domestick tyand all resistance; beating down in its course, ranny,-that these vast armies were marching monarchs, and armies, and nations, degrading to their graves? Could any human sagacity the exalted, disarming the powerful, endeavour

Ames.

The war has begun to assume a serious and On Monday last, some British barges went into Wareham, burnt five or six vessels, and set fire to a factory, which was afterwards extinguished. On the Saturday previous, seven were burnt, and two carried out, from Scituate. On Sunday, they landed at Squamdestroyed two sloops, and carried out a boat. Besides these, we hear every day of captures in our bay, by the British cruisers, some of whom are constantly in sight.

have foreseen, that, in the heart of a half civilized country, there would have been display-alarming aspect, all along our eastern coast. ed a miracle of magnanimity, unequalled by any thing ever exhibited among mankind, and will be learnt by future ages with tears of admiration, a people sacrificing their capital, the object of deep religious awe and the strongest national enthusiasm, to the safety of their country? Could we have thought, that this accursed enemy of virtue would have thus received his death-wound from the hand of virtue herself?-that his overthrow would be so sudden, so complete, so awful; that this mighty conqueror, who had set God and man at defiance, should, in the space of a few months, have fled, a trembling coward, alone, exhausted, ruined, seeking his safety within the walls of his own palace; that so many enslaved people would have shaken off the yoke which crushed them to the earth and actually decree the repose of Europe, from the very throne of the disgraced and fallen op. pressor? Yet this is what our eyes have seen ! O God, how just and how terrible are thy judgments !" P. 10-12

GENERAL REGISTER.

About the last of May, 17 government ships and 13 brigs arrived at Quebeck from England, with reinforcements of troops, seamen, ordnance stores, and provisions-the frame of a frigate, and brig of war, for the lakes. We must have the Canadas !!

Commodore Barney's flotilla are blockaded in the Patuxent, (Chesapeake). The Virgini ans continue to share with us the blessings of the war which they have brought upon the

country,

The RELIGIOUS FESTIVAL, observed in this town on Wednesday last, presented a succession of solemnities and pomp, than which nothing was ever witnessed, more grand or interesting, in this place.

At 11 o'clock, A. M. the church services

BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 18, 1814. began. The grandeur of the praises, swelling

EUROPEAN. The Olivier, a French brig of war, waving the old national flag of France, has arrived at New-York, with despatches to Mr. Serrurier and our government. She likewise brings information of a few days' later date.

The senior Bonaparte had gone to Elba, and the whole ex-royal family were dispersing. The uncle, cardinal Fesch, and the mother of Napoleon were reported to have solicited the privilege of residence within the Pope's do

minions. Louis, it was said, would retire to

United States of America,

on Handel's inspired harmony-the solemnity of the prayers; the impressive, pathetick, sanctified eloquence of the sermon, diffused enthusiasm and sublime emotion through a highly respectable and crowded assembly.

At the close of the religious exercises, the Hon. Mr. Gore, as chairman of the Committee of Arrangements, rose and addressed the audience. He presented a concise but comprehensive view of the state of Europe, at the breaking out of the French revolution-its demoralizing, degrading, sanguinary characterits tremendous effects on civilized societyits rapid, desolating, terrifying progress its conversion into the most tragical, overwhelm

Switzerland, and Joseph and Jerome to the All France was tranquil; and busied only in exhibiting testi-ing despotism that ever God in his providence monials of joy, at their happy deliverance

Some reports were likewise brought, by the same vessel, that our ministers were to be invited to participate in the negotiations for a general peace. But though we voluntarily engaged in a war, in which we had no imme

permitted to scourge mankind. He concluded, by sketching the progress of those glorious events, which in a short and at an unexpected period, had hurried the tyrant of the world to destruction, and liberated the nations of Europe and our own unhappy country from the greatest of all dangers. He then read an introduction, and Resolutions, expressing the mobject of this day's thanksgiving-tendering the congratulations of the People of Massachusetts,

diate concern, we doubt whether we shall not be permitted to make our peace alone. No advantage could be expected from such a compliment; for the claims for which Mr. Madison contends, have no advocate among the powers of Europe.

Thirty thousand of the allied troops had left Paris-all the corps which had shown any disorderly conduct, had been sent from the kingdom. All the French prisoners in Russia are to be immediately liberated.

to

tion on every countenance. At eight o'clock in the evening, every window in the StateHouse was superbly illuminated. An excellent band of Musick, in the Piazza gallery, gave animation to the exhibition-the heavens flamed with rockets-and the bustle of probably ten thousand spectators in the common and neighbouring streets, gave a pleasing proof of the interest which the occasion inspired.

The official account received at Washington, reduces the capture of 300 British, at Sandy Creek, mentioned in our last number, to 13 killed, 28 wounded and 133 taken.

Col. Snelling has arrived at Washington, with despatches to our government, from the Commander in chief, in Canada,

[blocks in formation]

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

THE CONFIDANT, No. XI. I HAVE received the following communications, from different hands, and, I believe, new correspondents. To the Confidant.

SIR,-When men involve themselves in pecuniary embarrassments, from indulgence in profligate habits, or from fraudulent and unwarranted speculations, the most candid cannot commiserate without a mixture of censure. Poverty, resulting from such causes brings disgrace in its train of evils, and it is not surprising that men, conscious of reprehensible conduct, should avoid, as long as possible, making a disclosure of their perplexity, when they know it must be followed by a loss of reputation. But the world have ever been unanimous in their verdict, that when honest, active, prudent industry is defeated, failure is not dishonourable. It is then extremely to be regretted, that "this horror of falling into nought" should so frequently beset minds which have nothing to fear, on the score of character, and impel them, after a career of the most unsullied integrity, to acts which never fail to attach reproach to adversity-I mean abusing the confidence of friendship. In the ordinary transactions of business, it is impossible, even for the most circumspect, always to guard against disappointment. I presume therefore, that, in fair dealing, the man who trusts, shares in a degree the responsibil ity of consequences, with him who is trusted. With a rational hope of profit, one asks cred

the "venerable head of the House of Bourbon" on his restoration to that throne, which gave support to our country in its struggle for independence to the Dutch nation, on the recovery of their freedom and the return of the illustrious House of Orange-to the empire of Germany-the kingdoms of The Princess Maria Louisa is to take the Spain, Portugal, Prussia-the states of Italy title of Grand Duchess of Parma and Placen- and the republicks of Switzerland on their libtia. It is not supposed she will ever see Na-eration from the yoke of an insolent invader-it to Alexander the Deliverer, and, in terms, poleon Bonaparte again. which the deplorable contest in which we are engaged, necessarily qualified with delicacy, to that nation, in whose unparalleled fortitude, perseverance, and magnanimity, the cause of national freedom found support, when dismay overspread the earth.

Forty-four million franks in specie, sent from Paris, by Bonaparte, have been taken on the road; his crown, diamonds, and plate have

likewise been recovered.

DOMESTICK. The Legislature of this commonwealth was prorogued by his Excellency the Governour, on Tuesday last. One of the last acts was to authorize the Executive to adopt such measures as they should deem necessary to the security of the state, and to draw on the treasurer, if expedient, to the amount of one million of dollars.

These Resolutions were unanimously adopted, and the committee authorised to make them publick, in such manner as they should deem advisable. They were likewise appointed to solicit a copy of the sermon for the

with a rational hope of profit, another gives it. Both are governed by a general scale of insurance, by which they regulate all their commercial intercourse with the world. They must both endeavour to be prepared for contingencies.

But how often does it happen, that, on the eve of avowed insolvency, we find persons stepping entirely out of the line of busines, and availing themselves of unguarded disinterested FRIENDSHIP? How often do we find those, who cannot expect to avert the crash of their affairs one week, employ that week to involve the dearest and most generous of their acThrough the remainder of the day, nothingquaintance, who look for no advantage-who was seen, but a general expression of satisfac-bare no chance of advantage, but the self

press.

complacency of having conferred a favour? This is unworthy a man of principle-this is dishonest-base. It is indeed singular what can induce any person to such obliquity of conduct. Why wantonly mar one's own reputation, when it becomes more valuable than ever, in being the only property left?

and warning to their cotemporaries, not to let so valuable a thing as time, pass away unheeded or unemployed.

of resort; but custom seems to have decided that we may here tread the same ground with less violation of propriety. I could not help feeling scruples, however, and studied every Let it not be thought trifling with a very sedistinction of dress; yet I still discovered arti-rious subject, to quote this or that opinion of cles of resemblance, notwithstanding daily altera- those, who were favoured with such length of tions. And, as mistakes might happen; when I years, during the first ages of the world; for I would not be so severe as to say, that came to reason on the subject, I could not when we compare even their term of life, be none but depraved minds are ever guilty of perceive the difference between being suspect- it that of Methusalem himself, with the boundsuch conduct. I believe that a mistaken sensi-ed in Cornhill, the Mall, or any other place. less eternity, into which they entered when bility to reputation sometimes hurries men inlife was at an end, it was short-infinitely to measures, which with a moment's calm reshort. flection they would condemn and shun. It is from a wish to excite that reflection I have made these remarks. It cannot be too strongly urged upon men of business, particularly the young, that circumspection in commercial transactions is a high moral duty that every honest exertion should be faithfully employed to fulfil every engagement: but if Providence frown, and the current of adversity prove too strong, never dread to make seasonable, fair explanations: above all, let not fraud and treachery add the sting of remorse to the gloom of disappointment. M.

To the Confidant.

SIR-I do not know but there is an impropriety in my addressing you; but I am under the necessity of making a confidant of somebody. I have been shut up in the house for nearly six months; I can neither eat nor sleep; my complexion has become yellow, and I do nothing but yawn from morning to night. In short, I am in a fair way to fall a victim to the opinions of the world, and my own sense of propriety. I have always been very scrupulous not to be seen at improper places; and it now appears to me, that every place has become improper. You know, that the Mall is considered particularly so. But notwithstanding this, as exercise was absolutely necessary for my health, I did once last summer venture to undertake a walk there, under the protection of my brother. But I soon discov. ered suspicious female faces, and told him, that I must retire immediately. He seemed to doubt my accuracy, and asked me how I should know them so much better than he did. I as

sured him, I could not be deceived; as I had made it my study to know all these characters, that I might avoid their company. He then affected to laugh, and said he did not see what harm they could do me, if we kept a proper distance. At this I was offended, and told him I should return home alone. He replied, that I did not seem to consider the real danger in which he might be left, after the information I had given him. There was some reason in this; but home I went; and if he had been my husband, I should have done the same. Not that I approve of men walking there, without us, neither. But we cannot accompany them, that's certain. I am told, that in other places women are not so particular, and go where they please. But here we must have our eyes about us'; and it appears to be the privilege of the worst part of the sex to drive us where they please. Even now some have the artifice to get into our kitchens, and, should they have the impudence to make a little more free with our parlours, we might be banished from our own houses.

But to return. I next endeavoured to fix upon a proper hour in the day, and take a solitary walk in the most retired parts of the town. But I found myself annoyed, and driven from one street to another, by the presence of women of at least doubtful reputation; till I was at length obliged to limit my walks to Cornhill. Not that I escaped my persecutors here, for this is well known to be their place

[ocr errors]

From this time I determined to appear no
more in publick; but to confine my walk to a
small piece of ground behind the house. I
enjoyed this for some time; but in the course
of my inquiries, I ascertained that a certain
female, whom I should be sorry to resemble,
had by accident adopted the same practice. I
was of course obliged to give this up; and my
situation has since been as before described.
My apprehensions continue to increase, and
perhaps may be partly attributed to nervous
causes. I am now even afraid to look out at
the window, lest my motives should be
ed. It has occurred to me that possi
device of wearing a badge or label, wat vir
tue inscribed upon it, might enable us to
abroad in safety; but I suppose this would
soon be counterfeited. And, indeed, my sallow
appearance might now be misinterpreted; or,
if I were to attempt to improve it with rouge,
this, you know, would be certain condemna-
tion. So that I know not what to do.-If you
can imagine any thing for my relief, pray com-
municate it and oblige

Yours, &c.

spec

some

DOROTHY SCRUPLE.

I am inclined to think it is some time since Mrs. DOROTHY's fastidious delicacy induced her to abandon the Mall. She may be assured that VIRTUE imprints her "label" conspicuously on her votaries, and the world has seldom been found so corrupted that it did not command respect. The Mall is, now, a delightful, fashionable resort, where the morning freshness, the noon-day shade, and the evening breeze may be enjoyed without danger of interruption. This has been effected by no municipal law; but by a law honourable to our nature. Modesty consecrates her walks-Vice and Vulgarity, obtrusive as they are deemed, shrink from her presence, like owls from the radiance of the sun.

I ask leave to give my fair correspondent
another hint. Though delicacy is an indispen-
sable trait in the character of the adored sex,
let them remember, there are better claims to

it than by being in every place and circun-
stance excessively intelligent,

Adminstration v

THE WRITER, No. VI.

SOME moralists very justly observe that we are always complaining of the shortness of life, and yet ever endeavouring to get rid of some portion of it; and it must be acknowledged that no property we possess, so valuable as time, is so carelessly and imprudently squandered away.

I could enumerate an hundred authors, who have given the world excellent lessons upon this subject; although, I believe, it would be difficult to point out fifty of their readers, who have attended to their instructions, or profited by them as they ought.

To preach about the value of time, in the present age of the world, is to grapple with a subject, which has been handled in vain ever since the flood, nay, and before it; for even the antideluvians, after living eight or nine hundred years, are said to have complained of the shortness of life, the transitory state of mortals, and to have given excellent advice

If, then, a life of a thousand years was not so long, but that every moment ought to be prized, and no portion of it to be carelessly lost or suffered to escape unnoticed or unimproved, what shall we say of that which is "Dwindled down to threescore years and ten"! Dr. Franklin has left us many pertinent remarks upon the value of time; but as his favourite subject seems to have been a mere worldly economy, so he grounds his recommendations, of saving and improving time, chiefly upon advantages of a temporal nature. But, although time may be employed to gain "Time," says our American sage, " is money." money, we should remember, that money can miserable exchange, for this precious merchannever purchase time; and that it is but a dize, to barter it for silver, or for fine gold. of this world; all the advantages of riches reTime has but little in common with the riches late to sense; time is of a higher nature; it was given us to learn wisdom, to practise virIt is the five talents, the two, or the one; and tue, to enjoy life, and to prepare for death. the less of it we have given us, the more culpable are we, if we bury it in the earth, or carelessly throw it away.

We have a common way of representing Time, emblematically, by the old man with his scythe. This figure denotes Time in general; but Dr. Young has given us a very lively personification of the smaller portions of it:

"Each moment has its little sickle, Emulous of Time's enormous scythe." We might improve upon this hint, and fancy every moment as a little winged messenger, "flying up to heaven's chancery" with good or evil report concerning us: and what should to our conduct here? would their testimony we have a right to expect from such witnesses be in our favour? Or has the greatest number of them left us in practices and pursuits, that we should tremble to acknowledge or remember? Some have left us busy in the search of worldly wealth; some, bewildered in the mazes of sensual enjoyments; some, speeding on the guilty road to fame; some, listlessly wasting our lives in the lap of indolence and luxury; some have seen us devoted to fashion and the dissipation of high-some, to the vulgar vices of low life. How many of these silent and unnoticed angels of time will have to testify such things against us, and how few will bear record to our acts of virtue, to our benevolence, our prayers, our pious thoughts, our humble sense of our own failings, and a suitable charity for those of our fellow men!

Such considerations certainly ought to induce serious reflections with regard to the manner, in which we spend our time. To the young, particularly, is it of importance to acquire a habit of reflecting upon this subject. That splendid period of the world, which makes so fine a figure in the pages of poetry, is past; but there is "a golden age" in the life of every man-as well for us, whose destinies are cast in these later times, as for all those who lived under the happy and favoured reign of Saturn. Youth is the golden age of mortals,

« ПретходнаНастави »