LITERARY NOTICES.

Memoirs, Correspondence, and Manuscripts, of General Lafayette. Published by his Family. Volume One. pp. 552. With a Portrait. New-York: Saunders and Otley.

We gather from an advertisement of the American editor of this large and beautiful volume, William A. Duer, Esq., that it was the desire of Lafayette that it should be considered as a legacy to the American people. In carrying his wishes into effect, therefore, his representatives have furnished a separate edition for this country, in which are inserted many letters that will not appear in the London and Paris editions, together with numerous details relating to the American revolution. The letters referred to, were written by Lafayette, in the course of his first residence in America, when he was little accustomed to write in the English language, and are given exactly as they came from his pen. We need not add, that they are replete with interest.

The general history of the great Apostle of Liberty is familiar to the American people. In a brief notice of the volume before us, therefore, we shall select a few only of such passages as have more particularly impressed us, in a desultory perusal. The annexed paragraph, from the opening of the memoir, is characteristic. The writer, though indulging a secret project of arming and despatching a vessel to this country, to aid the struggling colonies, is nevertheless obliged, the better to conceal his designs, to take a journey to England:

"I could not refuse to go, without risking the discovery of my secret, and by consenting to take this journey, I knew I could better conceal my preparations for a greater one. This last measure was also thought most expedient by MM. Franklin and Deane; for the doctor himself was then in France; and although I did not venture to go to his home, for fear of being seen, I corresponded with him through M. Carmichael, an American less generally known. I arrived in London with M. de Poix; and I first paid my respects to Bancroft, the American, and afterwards to his British Majesty. A youth of nineteen may be, perhaps, too fond of playing a trick upon the king he is going to fight with—of dancing at the house of Lord Germain, minister for the English colonies, and at the house of Lord Rawdon, who had just returned from New-York—and of seeing at the opera that Clinton whom he was afterwards to meet at Monmouth. But whilst I concealed my intentions, I openly avowed my sentiments; I often defended the Americans; I rejoiced at their success at Trenton; and my spirit of opposition obtained for me an invitation to breakfast with Lord Shelbourne. I refused the offers made me to visit the sea-ports, the vessels fitting out against the rebels, and every thing that might be construed into an abuse of confidence. At the end of three weeks, when it became necessary for me to return home, whilst refusing my uncle, the ambassador, to accompany him to court, I confided to him my strong desire to take a trip to Paris. He proposed saying that I was ill during my absence, I should not have made use of this stratagem myself, but I did not object to his doing so."

In reading, from his own pen, the account of his leaving France—the violent and peremptory letters from his family and government, denouncing his purpose, and demanding its relinquishment—the grief of his lovely wife, soon to become a mother—we are reminded of that forcible tribute of Sprague to this lofty disinterestedness, than which nothing in the English language is more touching and felicitous. Though doubtless familiar to many of our readers, we cannot resist the inclination to quote a single appropriate passage: 'He left,' says he, 'the blushing vine-hills of his delightful France. The people whom he came to succour were not his people; he knew them only in the wicked story of their wrongs. He was no mercenary wretch, striving for the spoils of the vanquished; he ranked among nobles, and looked unawed upon kings. He was no nameless outcast, seeking for a grave to hide his cold heart; his children were about him—his wife was before him. Yet from all these he turned away, and came. As the lofty tree shakes down its green glories to battle with the winter storm, he threw aside the trappings of pride and place, to crusade for freedom in Freedom's holy land. He came, not in the day of successful rebellion, when the newly-risen star of independence had burst the cloud of time, and careered to its place in the heavens; but he came when darkness curtained the hills, and the tempest was abroad in its anger; when the plough stood still in the field of promise, and briars cumbered the garden of beauty; when the wife was binding up the gashed bosom of her husband, and the maiden was wiping the death-damp from the brow of her lover; and when the pious began to doubt the favor of God.'

In the intervals of that heart destroying malady, sea-sickness, Lafayette employed his time, during the voyage, in acquiring some knowledge of the English language; and when at last he arrived on our coast, he found it swarming with hostile vessels, and landed at midnight at Georgetown, South Carolina. He soon started for Philadelphia, which he reached after a month's toilsome journey of nine hundred miles, on horseback. Even here he was met, at first, with coldness; for, although arriving at an important moment to the common cause, it was at a period peculiarly unfavorable to strangers:

"The Americans were displeased with the pretensions, and disgusted with the conduct, of many Frenchmen; the imprudent selections they had in some cases made, the extreme boldness of some foreign adventurers, the jealousy of the army, and strong national prejudices, all contributed to confound disinterested zeal with private ambition, and talents with quackery. Supported by the promises which had been given by Mr. Deane, a numerous band of foreigners besieged the Congress; their chief was a clever but very imprudent man, and although a good officer, his excessive vanity amounted almost to madness. With M. de Lafayette, Mr. Deane had sent out a fresh detachment, and every day such crowds arrived, that the Congress had finally adopted the plan of not listening to any stranger. The coldness with which M. de Lafayette was received, might have been taken as a dismissal; but, without appearing disconcerted by the manner in which the deputies addressed him, he entreated them to return to Congress, and read the following note:

"'After the sacrifices I have made, I have the right to exact two favors: one is, to serve at my own expense—the other is, to serve at first as volunteer.'"

"This style, to which they were so little accustomed, awakened their attention; the despatches from the envoys were read over, and, in a very flattering resolution, the rank of major-general was granted to M. de Lafayette."

Here Lafayette beheld, for the first time, the 'Father of his Country.' 'It was impossible,' says he, 'to mistake, for a moment, his majestic figure and deportment; nor was he less distinguished by his noble affability of manner.' The following is a picture of the American army, at this time stationed a few miles from Philadelphia:

"About eleven thousand men, ill armed, and still worse clothed, presented a strange spectacle to the eye of the young Frenchman: their clothes were parti-colored, and many of them were almost naked; the best clad wore hunting-shirts, large gray linen coats which were much used in Carolina. As to their military tactics, it will be sufficient to say that, for a regiment ranged in order of battle to move forward on the right of its line, it was necessary for the left to make a continued countermarch. They were always arranged in two lines, the smallest men in the first line; no other distinction as to height was ever observed. In spite of these disadvantages, the soldiers were fine, and the officers zealous; virtue stood in place of science, and each day added both to experience and discipline. Lord Stirling, more courageous than judicious, another general, who was often intoxicated, and Greene, whose talents were only then known to his immediate friends, commanded as majors-general. General Knox, who had changed the profession of bookseller to that of artillery officer, was there also, and had himself formed other officers, and created an artillery. 'We must feel embarrassed,' said General Washington, on his arrival, 'to exhibit ourselves before an officer who has just quitted French troops.' 'It is to learn and not to teach, that I come hither,' replied M. de Lafayette; and that modest tone, which was not common in Europeans, produced a very good effect."

What freeman can peruse the subjoined, and not feel his heart burn with a noble pride, that he is an American—the offspring of those whom no temptation could corrupt, no suffering appal, no tyranny subdue:

"Notwithstanding the success in the north, the situation of the Americans had never been more critical than at the present moment. A paper money, without any certain foundation, and unmixed with any specie, was both counterfeited by the enemy, and discredited by their partizans. They feared to establish taxes, and had still less the power of levying them. The people, who had risen against the taxation of England, were astonished at paying still heavier taxes now; and the government was without any power to enforce them. On the other side, New-York and Philadelphia were overstocked with gold and various merchandizes; the threatened penalty of death could not stop a communication that was but too easy. To refuse the payment of taxes, to depreciate the paper currency, and feed the enemy, was a certain method of attaining wealth; privations and misery were only experienced by good citizens. Each proclamation of the English was supported by their seductions, their riches, and the intrigues of the tories. Whilst a numerous garrison lived sumptuously at New-York, some hundreds of men, ill-clothed and ill-fed, wandered upon the shores of the Hudson. The army of Philadelphia, freshly recruited from Europe, abundantly supplied with everything they could require, consisted of eighteen thousand men: that of Valley-Forge was successively reduced to five-thousand men; and two marches on the fine Lancaster road, (on which road also was a chain of magazines,) by establishing the English in the rear of their right flank, would have rendered their position untenable; from which, however, they had no means of retiring. The unfortunate soldiers were in want of every thing; they had neither coats, hats, shirts, nor shoes; their feet and legs froze till they became black, and it was often necessary to amputate them. From want of money, they could neither obtain provisions nor any means of transport; the colonels were often reduced to two rations, and sometimes even to one. The army frequently remained whole days without provisions, and the patient endurance of both soldiers and officers was a miracle which each moment served to renew. But the sight of their misery prevented new engagements: it was almost impossible to levy recruits; it was easy to desert into the interior of the country. The sacred fire of liberty was not extinguished, it is true, and the majority of the citizens detested British tyranny; but the triumph of the north, arid the tranquillity of the south, had lulled to sleep two-thirds of the continent. The remaining part was harassed by two armies; and, throughout this revolution, the greatest difficulty was, that, in order to conceal misfortunes from the enemy, it was necessary to conceal them from the nation also; that by awakening the one, information was likewise given to the other; and that fatal blows would have been struck upon the weakest points, before democratic tardiness could have been roused to support them. It was from this cause that, during the whole war, the real force of the army was always kept a profound secret; even Congress was not apprized of it, and the generals were often themselves deceived. General Washington never placed unlimited confidence in any person, except in M. de Lafayette; because for him alone, perhaps, confidence sprung from warm affection. As the situation grew more critical, discipline became more necessary. In the course of his nocturnal rounds, in the midst of heavy snows, M. de Lafayette was obliged to break some negligent officers. He adopted in every respect the American dress, habits, and food. He wished to be more simple, frugal, and austere than the Americans themselves. Brought up in the lap of luxury, he suddenly changed his whole manner of living, and his constitution bent itself to privation as well as to fatigue. He always took the liberty of freely writing his ideas to congress; or, in imitation of the prudence of the general, he gave his opinion to some members of a corps or state assembly, that, being adopted by them, it might be brought forward in the deliberations of congress.

"In addition to the difficulties which lasted during the whole of the war, the winter of Valley-Forge recalls others still more painful. At Yorktown, behind the Susquehanhah, congress was divided into two factions, which, in spite of their distinction of south and east, did not the less occasion a separation between members of the same state. The deputies substituted their private intrigues for the wishes of the nation. Several impartial men had retired; several states had but one representative, and in some cases not even one. Party spirit was so strong, that three years afterwards congress still felt the effects of it. Any great event, however, would awaken their patriotism; and when Burgoyne declared that his treaty had been broken, means were found to stop the departure of his troops, which every thing, even the few provisions for the transports, had foolishly betrayed."

In his letter to his wife, written at this time, Lafayette speaks of American simplicity of manners, kindness of heart, and love of country. 'They are all,' says he, brethren of one family. The richest and the poorest man are completely on a level; and although there are some immense fortunes in this country, I may challenge any one to point out the slightest difference in their respective manner toward each other.' Would that this picture of republican character were a faithful transcript of the features of our time! We should be glad, did our limits permit, to collate numerous passages from his correspondence, to show how dear to the heart of this peer of the 'nobility of nature,' were those simple habits and manners, from which we have, as a nation, so widely departed. Thank heaven, he did not live to behold the great and increasing change.

The letters of Lafayette to General Washington, contained in the present volume, were penned in English, with which the marquis was but imperfectly acquainted, and are presented precisely as written. He does not, of course, overcome the troublesome idioms; but the reader will often be struck with the happy combinations of expressions, and pleasing involutions of sentences; while there is now and then to be met with a new-coined word, than which nothing could be more expressive. Such an one is contained in his objections to a military court-martial, wherein he asks General Washington if it is 'right forever to ridiculize a man of respectable rank, simply for drinking two or three gills of rum.' We here segregate this word, and introduce it to the American reader, with the hope that it will speedily become nationalized. It is different from, and better than, 'ridiculed.'

The correspondence, contained in the volume under notice, is brought down to the year 1781. The letters to Madame Lafayette, while they breathe the tenderest affection, yet burn with that noble disinterestedness and devotion to the cause of freedom, which characterized the life of the writer; while his epistles to General Washington, whether detailing reverses, expressing fears, or announcing glad tidings, are full of the warmest expressions of friendship, which time only served to rivet into an attachment that waxed stronger and stronger until death. Two extracts from Washington's answers to the letters of his renowned compeer, must close our notice of this admirable book. The first is from an epistle written soon after the marquis's first return to France:

"It gave me infinite pleasure to hear from your sovereign, and of the joy which your safe arrival in France had diffused among your friends. I had no doubt that this would be the case; to hear it from yourself, adds pleasure to the account; and here my dear friend, let me congratulate you on your new, honorable, and pleasing appointment in the army commanded by the Count de Vaux, which I shall accompany with an assurance that none can do it with more warmth of affection, or sincere joy, than myself. Your forward zeal in the cause of liberty; your singular attachment to this infant world; your ardent and persevering efforts, not only in America, but since your return to France, to serve the United States; your polite attention to Americans, and your strict and uniform friendship for me, have ripened the first impressions of esteem and attachment which I imbibed for you, into such perfect love and gratitude, as neither time nor absence can impair. This will warrant my assuring you that, whether in the character of an officer at the head of a corps of gallant Frenchmen, if circumstances should require this; whether as a major-general, commanding a division of the American army; or whether, after our swords and spears have given place to the plough-share and pruning-hook, I see you as a private gentleman, a friend and companion, I shall welcome you with all the warmth of friendship to Columbia's shores; and, in the latter case, to my rural cottage, where homely fare and a cordial reception shall be substituted for delicacies and costly living.

"I have a great pleasure in the visit which the Chevalier de la Luzerne and Monsieur Marbois did me the honor to make at this camp; concerning both of whom I have imbibed the most favorable impressions, and I thank you for the honorable mention you made of me to them. The chevalier, till he had announced himself to congress, did not choose to be received in his public character; if he had, except paying him military honors, it was not my intention to depart from that plain and simple manner of living which accords with the real interest and policy of men struggling under every difficulty for the attainment of the most inestimable blessing of life, liberty. The chevalier was polite enough to approve my principle, and condescended to appear pleased with our Spartan living. In a word, he made us all exceedingly happy by his affability and good humor, while he remained in camp.

"You are pleased, my dear marquis, to express an earnest desire of seeing me in France, after the establishment of our independency, and do me the honor to add, that you are not singular in your request. Let me entreat you to be persuaded, that, to meet you any where, after the final accomplishment of so glorious an event, would contribute to my happiness; and that to visit a country to whose generous aid we stand so much indebted, would be an additional pleasure; but remember, my good friend, that I am unacquainted with your language, that I am too far advanced in years to acquire a knowledge of it, and that to converse through the medium of an interpreter, upon common occasions, especially with the ladies, must appear so extremely awkward, insipid, and uncouth, that I can scarcely bear it in idea. I will, therefore, hold myself disengaged for the present; but when I see you in Virginia, we will talk of this matter, and fix our plans.

"The declaration of Spain in favor of France has given universal joy to every Whig: while the poor Tory droops like a withering flower under a declining sun. We are anxiously expecting to hear of great and important events on your side of the Atlantic; at present, the imagination is left in the wide field of conjecture; our eyes one moment are turned to an invasion of England, then of Ireland, Minorca, Gibraltar; in a word, we hope every thing, but know not what to expect, or where to fix. The glorious success of Count d'Estaing in the West Indies, at the same time that it adds dominion to France, and fresh lustre to her arms, is a source of new and unexpected misfortune to our tender and generous parent, and must serve to convince her of the folly of quitting the substance in pursuit of a shadow; and, as there is no experience equal to that which is bought, I trust she will have a superabundance of this kind of knowledge, and be convinced, as I hope all the world and every tyrant in it will be, that the best and only safe road to honor, glory, and true dignity, is justice. * * * The operations of the enemy this campaign have been confined to the establishment of works of defence, taking a post at King's Ferry, and burning the defenceless towns of New-Haven, Fairfield, and Norwalk, on the Sound, within reach of their shipping, where little else was, or could be opposed to them, than the cries of distressed women and helpless children; but these were offered in vain. Since these notable exploits, they have never stepped out of their works or beyond their lines. How a conduct of this kind is to effect the conquest of America, the wisdom of a North, a Germain, or a Sandwich, can best decide; it is too deep and refined for the comprehension of common understandings and the general run of politicians."

"When I look back to the length of this letter, I have not the courage to give it a careful reading for the purpose of correction: you must, therefore, receive it with all its imperfections, accompanied with this assurance, that, though there may be many inaccuracies in the letter, there is not a single defect in the friendship of, my dear marquis, yours," etc.

In answer to a letter from Lafayette, asking the opinion of the commander-in-chief in regard to a duel with Lord Carlisle—whom, for an insult offered, as the marquis conceived, to France, in a letter to congress, he had challenged—Washington advises him to give up the idea of so foolish a thing. 'Experience,' says the Pater Patria, 'has proved, that chance is often as much concerned in deciding these matters as bravery, and always more than the justice of the cause. I would not, therefore, have your life, by the remotest possibility, exposed, when it maybe reserved for so many great occasions.' Such was the opinion of Washington—a tolerably brave man, it is generally admitted—of duelling. He had that moral courage, in relation to this gladiatorial practice, which we are glad to perceive is every year increasing in our country.

We may renew our notice of the present volume, in connection with a review of its successor, which will doubtless soon be forthcoming. In the mean time, we commend the first to every true American.

The Life and Services of Commodore William Bainbridge, United States' Navy. By Thomas Harris, M. D., Surgeon United States' Navy, and Member of the American Philosophical Society. In one volume, pp. 254. Philadelphia: Carey, Lea and Blanchard.

The late hour at which we receive this valuable addition to American Biography, must constitute our apology for the brevity which marks our notice of its contents. The whole is a tribute to a brave officer, and an honorable and accomplished man, who has been fortunate in a biographer who enjoyed a close intimacy with him, who had seen him under all circumstances of disease and health, of exhilaration and depression, and who had thus the best opportunity of studying his character. The writer has therefore eminently succeeded in his purpose of drawing a plain and faithful narrative of the prominent events of Commodore Bainbridge's life. These are connected with a history of the partial hostilities with the French republic, and the various actions with the Barbary powers, under the command of Commodore Preble, and others, in which he was actively engaged. Most of the writer's materials are fresh and interesting, having been mainly obtained from the private journals and extensive correspondence of Bainbridge, from conversations with him, and those who have served under him, and from a manuscript biography of a portion of his life, by General H. A. S. Dearborn.

We had marked a few characteristic passages from the early history of Bainbridge, previous to his entering the navy, where his bravery is more familiar to American readers, but are compelled to omit them. A spirited mezzo-tint portrait, by Sartain, from a painting by Gilbert Stuart, embellishes the volume.

Midshipmen's Expedients. By the Author of 'Rattlin the Reefer;' and Other Tales, by Celebrated Writers. In two volumes. pp. 376. Philadelphia: Carey, Lea and Blanchard.

How large a portion, reader, of these two volumes, do you suppose the 'work' which gives them their title consumes? 'Marry, tell us that, and unyoke.' Thirty-two pages, all told! 'Midshipmen's Expedients,' quotha? Whosoever shall disburse the quid pro quo, in the belief that he is to read a new work, in two volumes, by the author of 'Rattlin, the Reefer,' (a clever, rattling sort of book enough, and popular withal,) will be inclined to give these volumes another and more appropriate title, namely, 'Booksellers' Expedients.' The 'other tales,' again, as in the case of Boz's 'Tuggs at Ramsgate,' are out of all proportion; since they predominate in number by just eighteen! They are well enough, in their way, as English magazine papers; but they are not 'Midshipmen's Expedients,' as any purchaser would be led to suppose. 'On the contrary, quite the reverse,' as the annexed list of contents will show. The first volume has 'Sandie Sandeman, the Piper,' 'The Old Farm-House, 'Mrs. Smith at Home, or More Smiths,' 'The Landlord of Royston,' 'The Irish,' 'Lord Lieutenant and His Double,' and 'John Smith.' The second volume contains, 'The Guerilla,' by Knowles, 'One Witness,' a law story, Douglas Jerrold's 'Preacher Parrot, or The Trials of Truth,' 'The Man with many Namesakes,' 'The Pleasure Party,' and 'The Rival Colors.' The two volumes are of that scrappy cast, so much desiderated by steam-boat travellers, and such as are troubled with ennui, a disease peculiarly incident to those who have nothing to do.