EVERY DEPARTMENT OF LITERATURE (continued 14)

Has your husband staid out longer than you expected? When he returns, receive him as the partner of your heart. Has he disappointed you in something you expected, whether of ornament, or furniture, or of any conveniency? Never evince discontent; receive his apology with cheerfulness. Does he, when you are housekeeper, invite company without informing you of it, or bring home with him a friend? Whatever may be your repast, however scanty it may be, however impossible it may be to add to it, receive them with a pleasing countenance, adorn your table with cheerfulness, give to your husband and to your company a hearty welcome; it will more than compensate for every other deficiency; it will evince love for your husband, good sense in yourself, and that politeness of manners, which acts as the most powerful charm! It will give to the plainest fare a zest superior to all that luxury can boast. Never be discontented on any occasion of this nature.

In the next place, as your husband's success in his profession will depend upon his popularity, and as the manners of a wife have no little influence in extending or lessening the respect and esteem of others for her husband, you should take care to be affable and polite to the poorest as well as to the richest. A reserved haughtiness is a sure indication of a weak mind and an unfeeling heart.

With respect to your servants, teach them to respect and love you, while you expect from them a reasonable discharge of their respective duties. Never tease yourself, or them, by scolding; it has no other effect than to render them discontented and impertinent. Admonish them with a calm firmness.

Cultivate your mind by the perusal of those books which instruct while they amuse. Do not devote much of your time to novels; there are a few which may be useful in improving and in giving a higher tone to our moral sensibility; but they tend to vitiate the taste, and to produce a disrelish for substantial intellectual food. Most plays are of the same cast; they are not friendly to the delicacy which is one of the ornaments of the female character. HISTORY, GEOGRAPHY, POETRY, MORAL ESSAYS, BIOGRAPHY, TRAVELS, SERMONS, and other well written religious productions, will not fail to enlarge your understanding, to render you a more agreeable companion, and to exalt your virtue. A woman devoid of rational ideas of religion, has no security for her virtue; it is sacrificed to her passions, whose voice, not that of GOD, is her only governing principle. Besides, in those hours of calamity to which families must be exposed, where will she find support, if it be not in her just reflections upon that all ruling Providence which governs the Universe, whether animate or inanimate.

Mutual politeness between the most intimate friends, is essential to that harmony, which should never be once broken or interrupted. How important then is it between man and wife!—The more warm the attachment, the less will either party bear to be slighted, or treated with the smallest degree of rudeness or inattention. This politeness, then, if it be not in itself a virtue, is at least the means of giving to real goodness a new lustre; it is the means of preventing discontent, and even quarrels; it is the oil of intercourse, it removes asperities, and gives to every thing a smooth, an even, and a pleasing movement.

I will only add, that matrimonial happiness does not depend upon wealth; no, it is not to be found in wealth; but in minds properly tempered and united to our respective situations. Competency is necessary; all beyond that point, is ideal. Do not suppose, however, that I would not advise your husband to augment his property by all honest and commendable means. I would wish to see him actively engaged in such a pursuit, because engagement, a sedulous employment, in obtaining some laudable end, is essential to happiness. In the attainment of a fortune, by honorable means, and particularly by professional exertion, a man derives particular satisfaction, in self applause, as well as from the increasing estimation in which he is held by those around him.

In the management of your domestic concerns, let prudence and wise economy prevail. Let neatness, order and judgment be seen in all your different departments. Unite liberality with a just frugality; always reserve something for the hand of charity; and never let your door be closed to the voice of suffering humanity. Your servants, in particular, will have the strongest claim upon your charity;—let them be well fed, well clothed, nursed in sickness, and never let them be unjustly treated.

ORIGINAL LITERARY NOTICES.

VATHEK—An Oriental Tale, by Mr. Beckford, author of Italy, &c. Philadelphia: Carey, Lea & Blanchard. 1834.

The publishers of this fashionable romance, by way of smoothing its path to general reception and favor, have attached to the title page various opinions expressed by English journalists,—to wit: The Quarterly Review says, "a very remarkable performance. It continues in possession of all the celebrity it once commanded." The "Printing Machine" (a paper we presume of that name) says, "As an Eastern story, we know nothing produced by an European imagination that can stand a comparison with this work." The Morning Post exclaims, "The finest Oriental tale extant!" and the "Gentleman's Magazine," pronounces it "a creation of genius that would immortalize its author at any time, and under any taste." These are very imposing authorities, and superadded to them all, it is said that Mr. Beckford is now living, is one of the richest men in England, and occupies so high a rank in social life, that royalty itself has been known to court his society. Nor is this all. Lord Byron pronounced "Vathek" to be a most surpassing production—far superior as an Eastern tale, to the "Rassalais" of Johnson,—and whatever has been said by Lord Byron, especially in matters of taste, will pass with some persons as incontrovertible orthodoxy. We have not examined particularly to ascertain what our own critics have said on the subject; but we believe that some of them at least, have echoed the plaudits of the British periodicals. Be this as it may, we happen to have an honest opinion of our own, and we must say, in our poor judgment, that a more impure, disgusting, and execrable production, than this same "Vathek," never issued from the English or American press. That the author was a youth of extraordinary genius, is acknowledged; (he wrote before twenty years of age)—but it was genius totally perverted and poisoned at its source. The work could have been written by no one whose heart was not polluted at its very core. Obscene and blasphemous in the highest degree, its shocking pictures are in no wise redeemed by the beauty and simplicity of Oriental fiction. We should pronounce it, without knowing any thing of Mr. Beckford's character, to be the production of a sensualist and an infidel—one who could riot in the most abhorred and depraved conceptions—and whose prolific fancy preferred as its repast all that was diabolical and monstrous, rather than what was beautiful and good. We shall not even attempt a detailed account of this volume—but when such works are recommended to public favor, we think it is time that criticism should brandish its rod, and that the genius of morality—if there be such a spirit in our land—should frown down the effort.

LEISURE HOURS, or the American Popular Library; conducted by an Association of Gentlemen. Boston: John Allen & Co. 1835.

Here is another contribution to the constantly increasing store of popular literature. If the present generation does not surpass all its predecessors in the acquisition of knowledge in its various forms, it will not be from any deficiency of intellectual food. In England, the Family Library, the Libraries of Useful and Entertaining Knowledge, the Penny Magazine, and innumerable other productions of the same class, are employed to diffuse through every portion of society, sound and valuable instruction; and many of these excellent publications are not only reprinted in the United States, but the time is not distant when we may justly boast of others of entirely domestic origin. The work before us seems to have been commenced under favorable auspices, and with laudable objects. The editors in their advertisement, which we quote at length for the benefit of our readers,

"propose to publish, at convenient intervals, a series of volumes of standard merit, calculated to interest and instruct every class of the community. Although they have chosen for the title of the series, the name of the American Popular Library, it is not to be understood that it is to consist wholly, or even principally, of American works. Nor, on the other hand, will any work, however popular, be introduced into the series, unless, in the opinion of the editors, it shall possess such a character as will secure to it a continued reputation, after it shall have ceased to interest by its novelty. In their selections they do not propose to be limited to any one class of works, but to include such books in each department, as shall appear to them to be most deserving of a place in the library of an enlightened christian family.

"It seems to them important, that the attention of our reading community should be turned to works of more permanent value, than belongs to most of the periodical literature of the day, or at least that it should not be confined exclusively to works of only a temporary interest. The spirit of the times appears also to demand, that the separation, which has too often been made between elegant literature and pure christianity, should cease to exist, and that a christian literature should take the place of that, which has, in many cases, begun and ended in infidelity. It is the design of the editors of this publication to promote, so far as shall be in their power, the union of polite literature, sound learning and christian morals. Beyond this they do not suppose it necessary that they should pledge themselves to the public. A sufficient security for their patrons seems to be provided, in leaving it optional with the purchaser to take only such part of the series as he may choose.

"It is intended that a volume of nearly uniform size shall be issued every two or three months, or in such a manner that four or five volumes shall appear annually."

As a specimen of the work, we select at random the following story of

MY TWO AUNTS.

Philosophers tell us that we know nothing but from its opposite; then I certainly know my two aunts very perfectly, for greater opposites were never made since the formation of light and darkness; but they were both good creatures—so are light and darkness both good things in their place. My two aunts, however, were not so appropriately to be compared to light and darkness as to crumb and crust—the crumb and crust of a new loaf; the crumb of which is marvellously soft, and the crust of which is exceedingly crisp, dry and snappish. The one was my father's sister, and the other was my mother's; and very curiously it happened that they were both named Bridget. To distinguish between them, we young folks used to call the quiet and easy one aunt Bridget, and the bustling, worrying one, aunt Fidget. You never, in the whole course of your life, saw such a quiet, easy, comfortable creature as aunt Bridget—she was not immoderately large, but prodigiously fat. Her weight did not exceed twenty stone, or two-and-twenty at the utmost—but she might be called prodigiously fat, because she was all fat; I don't think there was an ounce of lean in her whole composition. She was so imperturbably good natured, that I really do not believe that she was ever in a passion in the whole course of her life. I have no doubt that she had her troubles: we all have troubles, more or less; but aunt Bridget did not like to trouble herself to complain. The greatest trouble that she endured, was the alternation of day and night: it was a trouble to her to go up stairs to bed, and it was a trouble to her to come down stairs to breakfast; but, when she was once in bed, she could sleep ten hours without dreaming; and when she was once up, and seated in her comfortable arm-chair, by the fireside, with her knitting apparatus in order, and a nice, fat, flat, comfortable quarto volume on a small table at her side, the leaves of which volume she could turn over with her knitting needle, she was happy for the day: the grief of getting up was forgotten, and the trouble of getting to bed was not anticipated. Knowing her aversion to moving, I was once saucy enough to recommend her to make two days into one, that she might not have the trouble of going up and down stairs so often. Any body but aunt Bridget would have boxed my ears for my impertinence, and would, in so doing, have served me rightly; but she, good creature, took it all in good part, and said, "Yes, my dear, it would save trouble, but I am afraid it would not be good for my health—I should not have exercise enough." Aunt Bridget loved quiet, and she lived in the quietest place in the world. There is not a spot in the deserts of Arabia, or in the Frozen Ocean, to be for a moment compared for quietness with Hans-place—

"The very houses seem asleep;"

and when the bawlers of milk, mackerel, dabs, and flounders, enter the placid precincts of that place, they scream with a subdued violence, like the hautboy played with a piece of cotton in the bell. You might almost fancy that oval of building to be some mysterious egg, on which the genius of silence had sat brooding ever since the creation of the world, or even before Chaos had combed its head and washed its face. There is in that place a silence that may be heard, a delicious stillness which the ear drinks in as greedily as the late Mr. Dando used to gulp oysters. It is said that, when the inhabitants are all asleep, they can hear one another snore. Here dwelt my aunt Bridget—kindest of the kind, and quietest of the quiet. But good nature is terribly imposed upon in this wicked world of ours; and so it was with aunt Bridget. Her poulterer, I am sure, used to charge her at least ten per cent. more than any of the rest of his customers, because she never found fault. She was particularly fond of ducks, very likely from a sympathy with their quiet style of locomotion; but she disliked haggling about the price, and she abhorred the trouble of choosing them; so she left it to the man's conscience to send what he pleased, and to charge what he pleased. I declare that I have seen upon her table such withered, wizened, toad-like villains of half-starved ducks, that they looked as if they had died of the whooping-cough. And if ever I happened to say any thing approaching to reproach of the poulterer, aunt would always make the same reply,—"I don't like to be always finding fault." It was the same with her wine as it was with her poultry: she used to fancy that she had Port and Sherry; but she never had any thing better than Pontac and Cape Madeira. There was one luxury of female life which my aunt never enjoyed—she never had the pleasure of scolding the maids. She once made the attempt, but it did not succeed. She had a splendid set of Sunday crockery, done in blue and gold; and, by the carelessness of one of her maids, the whole service was smashed at one fell swoop. "Now, that is too bad," said my aunt; "I really will tell her of it." So I was in hopes of seeing aunt Bridget in a passion, which would have been as rare a sight as an American aloe in blossom. She rang the bell with most heroic vigor, and with an expression of almost a determination to say something very severe to Betty, when she should make her appearance. Indeed, if the bell-pull had been Betty, she might have heard half the first sentence of a terrible scolding; but before Betty could answer the summons of the bell, my aunt was as cool as a turbot at a tavern dinner. "Betty," said she, "are they all broke?" "Yes, ma'am," said Betty. "How came you to break them?" said my aunt. "They slipped off the tray, ma'am," replied Betty. "Well, then, be more careful another time," said my aunt. "Yes, ma'am," said Betty.

Next morning, another set was ordered. This was not the first, second, or third time that my aunt's crockery had come to an untimely end. My aunt's maids had a rare place in her service. They had high life below stairs in perfection; people used to wonder that she did not see how she was imposed upon: bless her old heart! she never liked to see what she did not like to see—and so long as she could be quiet she was happy. She was a living emblem of the Pacific Ocean.

But my aunt Fidget was quite another thing. She only resembled my aunt Bridget in one particular; that is, she had not an ounce of lean about her; but then she had no fat neither—she was all skin and bone; I cannot say for a certainty, but I really believe, that she had no marrow in her bones: she was as light as a feather, as dry as a stick, and, had it not been for her pattens, she must have been blown away in windy weather. As for quiet, she knew not the meaning of the word: she was flying about from morning till night, like a fagot in fits, and finding fault with every body and every thing. Her tongue and her toes had no sinecures. Had she weighed as many pounds as my aunt Bridget weighed stones, she would have worn out half-a-dozen pair of shoes in a week. I don't believe that aunt Bridget ever saw the inside of her kitchen, or that she knew exactly where it was; but aunt Fidget was in all parts of the house at once—she saw every thing, heard every thing, remembered every thing, and scolded about every thing. She was not to be imposed upon, either by servants or trades-people. She kept a sharp look out upon them all. She knew when and where to go to market. Keen was her eye for the turn of the scale, and she took pretty good care that the butcher should not dab his mutton chops too hastily in the scale, making momentum tell for weight. I cannot think what she wanted with meat, for she looked as if she ate nothing but raspings, and drank nothing but vinegar. Her love of justice in the matter of purchasing was so great, that when her fishmonger sent her home a pennyworth of sprats, she sent one back to be changed because it had but one eye.

She had such a strict inventory of all her goods and chattels, that, if any one plundered her of a pin, she was sure to find it out. She would miss a pea out of a peck; and she once kept her establishment up half the night to hunt for a bit of cheese that was missing—it was at last found in the mouse-trap. "You extravagant minx," said she to the maid, "here is cheese enough to bait three mouse-traps;" and she nearly had her fingers snapped off in her haste to rescue the cheese from its prison. I used not to dine with my aunt Fidget so often as with my aunt Bridget, for my aunt Fidget worried my very life out with the history of every article that was brought to table. She made me undergo the narration of all that she had said, and all that the butcher or poulterer had said, concerning the purchase of the provision; and she used always to tell me what was the price of mutton when her mother was a girl—two pence a pound for the common pieces, and twopence-halfpenny for the prime pieces. Moreover, she always entertained me with an account of all her troubles, and with the sins and iniquities of her abominable servants, whom she generally changed once a month. Indeed, had I been inclined to indulge her with more of my company, I could not always manage to find her residence; for she was moving about from place to place, so that it was like playing a game of hunt the slipper to endeavor to find her. She once actually threatened to leave London altogether, if she could not find some more agreeable residence than hitherto it had been her lot to meet with. But there was one evil in my aunt Fidget's behavior, which disturbed me more than any thing else; she was always expecting that I should join her in abusing my placid aunt Bridget. Aunt Bridget's style of house-keeping was not, perhaps, quite the pink of perfection, but it was not for me to find fault with it; and if she did sit still all day, she never found fault with those who did not; she never said any thing evil of any of her neighbors. Aunt Fidget might be flying about all day like a witch upon a broomstick; but aunt Bridget made no remarks on it; she let her fly. The very sight of aunt Fidget was enough to put one out of breath—she whisked about from place to place at such a rapid rate, always talking at the rate of nineteen to the dozen. We boys used to say of her that she never sat long enough in a chair to warm the cover. But she is gone—requiescat in pace;¹ and that is more than ever she did in her life-time.

¹ May she rest in peace.

EDITORIAL REMARKS.

In presenting the fourth number of the "Messenger" to the public, we are gratified in announcing the continued support of our friends and correspondents, and the increasing ardor with which the work is patronized. Far more to the great cause of southern literature, than to our own humble efforts, is it owing that we are encouraged from a variety of quarters to persevere in our labors; and our generous well wishers may rely, that we are not disposed to look back or falter in our course,—borne as we are upon the "full tide of successful experiment." Let but our friends continue to take an interest in our cause, and this work will soon be placed beyond contingent evils. It will become the arena, where southern minds especially, may meet in honorable collision; and when we say southern minds, let us not be understood as slighting or undervaluing the rich and valuable aid which we hope to receive from our northern and eastern brethren. Far from it. We desire to emulate their own noble efforts in behalf of American literature, and to stir up our more languid countrymen, to imitate their industry, and to hope for their success.

The rights and duties of the editorial chair, especially in the infancy of a literary work, are extremely delicate. Taste is so subtle, variable and uncertain a quality, that, for an editor to establish his own, as a fixed and immutable standard—would seem invidious, if not absolutely odious. On the other hand, some judgment and discrimination must be exercised, or the consequences might be still more injurious. The indiscriminate admission of all pretenders, would be disparaging and unjust to those whose claims are unquestionable. The true view of the subject we take to be this—not to exclude all contributions which do not display a high degree of merit—especially if their authors are young and evince a desire to excel. One object of a work like the "Messenger," is to improve the exercise of thought and the habit of composition. A literary novice, when he sees himself in print, and contrasts his productions with those of more mature minds and more practised hands, will rouse himself to greater effort. It may encourage and stimulate him to more decided and brilliant exertion. Fine writing is not the acquisition of a day or a year; it requires, in order to the full attainment of success,—long, continued and unwearied application.

We make these remarks, because we are not entirely satisfied ourselves, with all the articles either in prose or verse, admitted into the present number. We did not think, however, that any of them deserved exclusion. In some of those which are published, may be perceived undoubted indications of genius,—and in the rest, evidences of high capacity to excel.

In noticing some of the pieces, we hope it will not be supposed that we pass sentence of inferiority upon such as we omit to mention. Our object is to ask the particular attention of the reader to those which have afforded us peculiar pleasure.

It is with unalloyed satisfaction, that we continue the very able and interesting account of "Tripoli and the Barbary States." The author has thrown around authentic narrative, all the charms of romance; and we perfectly agree with a contemporary editor in this city, that he has reached in a very high degree the interest and dignity of the true historic style.

The description of Howard's Bottom, under the head of "Western Scenery," will be at once recognized as the production of a practised and polished pen.

If the "Hints to Students of Geology," by an able proficient in the science, shall serve to stimulate the languor which prevails in Virginia on that subject, we shall be more than gratified.

In the "March of Intellect," by V, there is a singular mixture of the serious and comic—of truth and caricature—which may not perhaps be agreeable to all readers. All, however, will concede to the author, vigor and fertility of mind,—with much of the "copia verborum" in style. We should have taken the liberty to apply the pruning knife to the luxuriant foliage of the "Seasons," from the same pen,—had we not feared doing some injury to the fruit. The author has only to cultivate his fine talents, in order to attain a high rank in the art of composition.

There is a good deal of humor in the description of a Virginia "Fourth of July,"—and we hope the writer will repeat his effort. In the local and distinctive traits of our national manners, there is a wide field for the pencil.

With the "Essay on Luxury," by B. B. B. H. we have taken some liberties, and crave his indulgence if we have been too free. Sometimes the finest thoughts and strongest reasoning, suffer injustice by inattention to style.

The author of "Eloquence" has our earnest exhortations to press on in the path which leads to renown. If we mistake not, he is actuated by the noble ambition to acquire distinction.

The "Valedictory in July 1829," now for the first time published, will command attention for the excellence of its precepts and doctrines upon the all important subject of female education. No one could be better qualified than the author, to enforce serious truths in a graceful and agreeable manner.

We beg the reader's particular attention to the original tale of "Uncle Simon and the Mechanician." The author's admirable sketches derive additional value from the fact that they are not the mere creations of fancy, but exact copies from nature.

Some of our readers may perhaps complain, that more than a due proportion of the present number is devoted to the Muses. It may be so; but our apology is, that some of the pieces have been so long on hand, that to delay their publication would almost amount to exclusion. If all the poetry is not of equal quality, there is still enough which is excellent; enough to demonstrate beyond all question, that if our Bards would only take courage, and rise superior to the fear of foreign rivalry, the highest success would crown their efforts. Among the pieces which have afforded us more than ordinary pleasure, we may be allowed to enumerate the "Peasant-Women of the Canaries," "The Heart," and that which we have taken the liberty to designate by the title of "True Consolation." The oftener that we read these, the more we like them; but we shall restrain the ardor of our own feelings, lest our readers should suppose we indulge the presumptuous thought of influencing their judgments.

It is with real pleasure that we insert two productions from the pen of the Hon. R. H. Wilde. These would be enough of themselves to disprove the charge of plagiarism preferred against that gentleman during the Georgia election, in respect to the charming lines which appeared in our first number, and which we stated were generally ascribed to him. It is to us passing strange, that the sacred repose of the republic of letters, should be disturbed by the agitations and conflicts of party politics. Notwithstanding that the authorship of "My Life is like the Summer Rose," has been confidently claimed by some for O'Kelly, an Irish poet,—and by others for an ancient Greek bard named Alceus, we still adhere to the opinion that that beautiful effusion is the bona fide and genuine offspring of Mr. Wilde's muse. Upon this subject, however, we shall reserve a more particular expression of our sentiments for a future number.

We have already expressed our opinion of the bards of Mobile and Tuscaloosa. May we not expect a continuance of their favors?

The humorous "Parody on Bryant's Autumn," or rather on his piece called the "Death of the Flowers," will strike every one acquainted with the productions of the New York bard, as an admirable imitation of his style. It is the more excellent, as Bryant's sombre imagery has been made to assume a light and sportive dress.

We could say much in commendation of many of our other poetical contributors, if it were not somewhat improper to invade too much the province of our readers. We hope, therefore, that they will not for a moment believe that we slight or undervalue their favors.

EXTRACTS FROM THE LETTERS OF CORRESPONDENTS.

FROM AN EMINENT LITERARY GENTLEMAN, NOW A RESIDENT OF LOUISIANA.

"I am domiciliated in the south for the residue of my days; and so far as residence, pursuit, and the home of those most dear to me may be supposed to impress local preferences, I am and long have been a southern man. But we all love our dear common country better than all that belongs to district and climate; and so loving my country, and so being proud of its best fame and honor, its literary advancement, I was decidedly pleased with your periodical. The writing, the printing, the revision of the proofs, the ensemble, are all unquestionably creditable to you. I am too old and too much hackneyed in the style of periodicals to compliment. The Richmond Messenger gives respectable promise. Periodicals have to me a kind of physiognomy. Some look sickly and death-doomed from their birth. Yours give signs of a vigorous and healthful vitality. May it live long and prosper."

FROM A DISTINGUISHED LITERARY LADY IN NEW YORK.

"I owe you a very humble apology for not having earlier acknowledged your first communication and the receipt of the first number of your work, which you were so kind as to send me. I was absent on a very long journey when they reached my residence, and then my reply fell into the ever open grave of deferred duties. I have since been gratified to hear from various sources that your enterprise was succeeding. It could hardly be otherwise, if you could once rouse the minds in your beautiful state, where inspiring subjects every where abound. Your request is very flattering to me, and I should most willingly comply with it, but that I have at present more work on my hands than I have energy to accomplish. At some future time, should you continue to desire my services, it will give me pleasure to render them."

FROM EASTERN VIRGINIA.

[A correspondent from whom we have received many favors, indulges in the following sportive strain. So far from being willing that he should "sail before the mast," we would rather see him take rank as OUR POST CAPTAIN.]

"I sincerely rejoice in the success thus far of your undertaking, and trust you have now been sustained long enough to give time to abler men to come to your assistance. I wish you a good crew and a pleasant voyage for your little frigate. I shall still occasionally sail with you before the mast as a common sailor, until somebody gives me the cat-o'-nine-tails, and then perhaps I shall stay at home and mind my business, which is clodhopping, and which is perhaps more suitable than the occupation I have lately been following."

"To read your paper is the only one thing needful to enlarge its circulation, to attract the attention, and to gain the affections of the reading part of the community. It is a work peculiarly interesting to southern literature, as its appeals are direct to the love of letters, to the generous pride, and to the chivalric patriotism of southerners. The monotonous sound of politics cannot but be disgusting."

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS TO CONTRIBUTORS, CORRESPONDENTS, &C.

We tender our thanks to the editor of the Farmer's Register for setting us right in respect to Mr. Peter A. Browne's letter on the mineral resources of Virginia. The republication of that letter in the Register had escaped our recollection entirely. We shall be much gratified in having the able co-operation of Mr. Ruffin upon a subject we have much at heart, to wit: a geological and mineralogical survey of the state. When the legislature shall have settled the exact limits of federal power, and the precise boundaries of state rights—if indeed these things can be done in our time—or when we shall have laid the broad and permanent foundation of a system of internal improvement,—we hope then at least to see Virginia treading in the paths of other states, and turning her attention to her own vast, and in some respects, hidden resources.

We owe a similar acknowledgement to Mr. Fairfield, editor of the North American Magazine, who informs us that Mr. Browne's letter also appeared in one of his numbers, but which in like manner escaped our notice.

The "Remarks Delivered to the Law Class at William and Mary," upon a subject deeply interesting to the south, shall appear in our next number.

The "Letters from a Sister," we have only had opportunity to glance at. We have no doubt that they will furnish a rich store for the entertainment of our readers.

The Selections from the Manuscripts of Mrs. Wood, are reluctantly but unavoidably excluded from the present number, but shall certainly appear in our next.

We have on hand a variety of poetical contributions, from which we shall cull liberally for our pages. As some literary appetites however, are cloyed by too many dainties, we must be somewhat particular in the arrangement of our table.

The Publisher offers an apology to his patrons for the delay in the publication of the present number. The close of the year being, by common consent, a season of holiday recreation rather than of business, all just allowances will be made. He promises (always excepting unforeseen accidents and contingencies) to be more punctual hereafter. It is his desire to issue the Messenger, if possible, regularly between the 20th and last day of each month. Contributors ought to be governed accordingly. He tenders the compliments of the season to his patrons.

SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER.

VOL. I.] RICHMOND, JANUARY 1835. [NO. 5.

T. W. WHITE, PRINTER AND PROPRIETOR. FIVE DOLLARS PER ANNUM.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

SKETCHES OF THE HISTORY

And Present Condition of Tripoli, with some accounts of the other Barbary States.

No. III.

From 1798 to 1803, William Eaton, formerly a captain in the army of the United States, was their consul¹ in Tunis. As the character of this remarkable man will be best illustrated by the account of his proceedings in Barbary, it will be sufficient to premise that he had, before his mission to that country, given proofs of more than ordinary courage and capacity, and that the utmost confidence was placed in his honor and integrity by those who possessed the means of forming an opinion with regard to him. These are admirable qualities for a diplomatic agent; on the other hand, he was irritable and cynical, and was considered eccentric by persons who were unable to comprehend his views or his plans. Ever open and liberal himself, he could not easily conceal his contempt for those in whom he discovered signs of duplicity or meanness; and his irrepressible frankness on such occasions, was not calculated to render him an object of favor with a government which reprobated treachery only when it was unsuccessful.

¹ The consuls residing in the Barbary States, are considered as the representatives of their several governments, and are essentially diplomatic agents; although they are not so termed, out of respect for the Porte.

The Bey Hamouda, to whom Eaton was accredited, was a man vastly superior to the generality of Barbary sovereigns; though free from none of the vices which appear to have fixed their seat in that portion of the earth, he was yet by no means their slave, being neither a brutal ruffian nor a luxurious sybarite. His passions, though violent, seldom obscured his observation, or led him to the commission of imprudences or wanton cruelties; and it was only by means of sagacity, energy and laboriousness such as he possessed, that the throne of Tunis could have been held by one man for thirty-two stormy years (1782 to 1815).

The intercourse between these two shrewd and fiery spirits, was a continued series of discussions and struggles, of attempted encroachments on the part of the Bey, and of obstinate resistance on that of Eaton. The African Prince soon perceived that the American was of a different stamp from the consuls to whom he had been hitherto accustomed, and whom he regarded in general as mere intriguers, or instruments for the conveyance of flattery and presents; and Eaton, although he could not like or respect the Bey, yet seems to have excepted him from the anathema of contempt in which he involved all other inhabitants of Barbary. In the accounts of their interviews, we see Hamouda ever anxious to secure advantages, yet at times displaying something like a feeling of national pride; Eaton placing the honor of his country as the first consideration, yet mindful of its smallest interests when they could be reconciled with this primary object: the Bey endeavoring to inveigle or surprise the American consul into a promise of his influence to obtain some future concession from his government; Eaton carefully avoiding, or boldly refusing the slightest encouragement to such expectations, well knowing that it would be construed and afterwards quoted as a definite or a partial engagement. These accounts are indeed only to be found in the despatches of Eaton. But independently of the character of the writer, his details bear every mark of truth, and together present one of the most original and interesting specimens of negotiation to be found in the annals of diplomacy. The strength and the weakness of these anomalous governments are there clearly exposed; and after the demonstrations thus given, it would have been unpardonable in the Americans to have longer persisted in the submissive course which they had been induced to adopt.

Eaton's first business was to have amendments made in a treaty which had been concluded between the United States and Tunis, through the agency of a Frenchman named Famin; this was effected, after a display of great ingenuity on both sides, and some mutual concessions. Then came the arrangement of the presents from the American government, which the Bey attempted to raise far beyond the amount agreed on, hinting that war might be the consequence of refusal. It was on this occasion that Eaton commenced his solicitations for the despatch of an American squadron to the Mediterranean—"Send the stipulated presents," said he, "but accompany them by a respectable force, and let them be tendered under our guns; if then refused, the obligation is at an end; delay, and we shall soon be obliged to redeem our citizens from slavery." No ship of war appearing to support the resistance of the American consul, the Bey increased his demands, requiring at one time a frigate, and afterwards ten thousand stand of arms. At length the appearance of Dale's squadron (1801) induced him to lower his tone and to suspend his exactions.

The war between the United States and Tripoli soon occasioned new difficulties, in the course of which the Bey showed himself well acquainted with the received principles of national law; and unfortunately the manner in which the operations of the American squadron were conducted, gave him the advantage in the argument. Tripoli had been declared in a state of blockade; yet months elapsed during which no ship appeared on the coast to enforce it; indeed the frigates (of which, with the exception of the schooner Enterprize, the American squadron was entirely composed,) were nearly useless for that purpose; the shallowness of the water enabling lighter vessels to leave or enter the port, by running some distance close to the shore. Eaton was unceasing in his solicitations to his government, and to the officers of the squadron, for the pursuance of more energetic measures; but his government adhered to its system of caution, and the naval commanders appear to have been affected with that jealousy or distrust which always exists in the minds of such officers with regard to the representatives of their nation abroad, particularly towards those who are termed consuls. They received his recommendations with hauteur, and treated them with neglect; and on one or two occasions only could he obtain their co-operation.

The Bey seeing this, demanded passports for his vessels to carry grain to Tripoli, which they had been in the habit of supplying with that article. Eaton refused, alleging that it would be an infringement of the blockade. The Bey replied that no blockade existed de facto; and a series of discussions ensued, in which we see the Barbary Prince insisting on an observance of the rules of national law, and the American representative agent upholding a paper blockade.

The difficulties between Eaton and the Bey were much increased by the intrigues of the Tunisian ministers and officers; particularly by those of Sidi Yusuf, the Seid-e-Tapa, or Keeper of the Seal, commonly called the Sapatapa, a wretch who by the most infamous practices had amassed an immense fortune, and raised himself from the condition of a Georgian slave to the highest place in the ministry. To their ceaseless importunities for presents Eaton at first yielded; but finding that compliance only rendered them more frequent, and that the requests put on the form of exactions, he at length plainly refused, frequently clothing his denial in a sarcastic dress, or accompanying it by observations which no interpreter could soften into compliments. Indeed, on several occasions, when the inferior agents were insolent, he did not scruple to lay his cane over their shoulders; and even Famin the Frenchman, who had been the representative of his government in the negotiation of the treaty, felt the weight of his arm. These circumstances rendered him obnoxious to the whole Tunisian government, and every attempt was made to get rid of him, in order to obtain another consul who might be of more pliable stuff. Intimidate him they could not, but they succeeded fully in disgusting him.

Circumstances at length occurred which revived his hopes of seeing the honor of his country vindicated, and its relations with the Barbary powers established on a fair and firm basis. It has been stated that Hamet, the exiled Prince of Tripoli, had sought refuge in Tunis from the persecutions of his brother; he was there received and supported by the Bey, partly from compassion, but principally from political motives, as he might thus be employed to keep Yusuf in check. In the summer of 1801, it was suggested to Eaton by the ex-consul Cathcart, that the restoration of Hamet to the throne of Tripoli might in all probability be easily effected through the assistance of the United States, and that it would prove highly advantageous to American interests. Eaton at first paid but little attention to the suggestion; but afterwards having obtained information from Tripoli on which he could rely, that the Pasha was very unpopular, and his subjects ripe for revolt, he became acquainted with the Prince, and gradually communicated to him his views. He proposed that Hamet should proceed to Tripoli with the whole American squadron, and be there presented to the people as their rightful sovereign; if accepted, peace was to be made, on terms of which the principal were stated, one of them being the delivery of Yusuf to the Americans; if the inhabitants should however refuse to receive him, the war was to be prosecuted with vigor to a conclusion.

Hamet at first appeared to enter into the plan, and communicated information from which its success appeared still more probable; but his natural irresolution soon returned, and innumerable difficulties presented themselves to his imagination. The most serious ground of objection taken by him was, that his family were still retained as hostages in Tripoli, and the ruthlessness of his brother's character rendered it highly probable that he might exercise towards them any degree of violence, when prompted either by interest or revenge. To this, Eaton opposed the consideration, that the appearance of an overwhelming force, with the country too in arms against Yusuf, would impress upon him the inutility of resistance, and oblige him to enter into some arrangement for the release of Hamet's family, and the surrender of the throne. The exiled Prince would however make no promises, until he had been assured of the assistance of the American force, which Eaton immediately endeavored to obtain; but neither his instructions, nor those of the commander of the squadron, would warrant such proceedings; and indeed, as the proposition came from Eaton, it was of course reprobated and pronounced visionary by the latter. The consul therefore wrote to his government, detailing his plan, and urging its attention; and his health being much enfeebled, he determined to await an answer in Italy, for which country he sailed in December, 1801.

These projects could not be devised so secretly as to escape the vigilance of the Tunisian government; and they were soon communicated to Yusuf, by one of its ministers whom he kept in pay. They created in him the utmost alarm. He had just then involved himself also in a war with Sweden, and a fleet from that country had already entered the Mediterranean under Admiral Cederstrom, who had orders to act in concert with the Americans. His two largest vessels were lying useless at Gibraltar; and Morat Rais, without whom he could do little towards equipping others, was also at that place closely watched by his enemies.

In this state of things, he endeavored to amuse the Americans with propositions of peace; and the sovereigns of Algiers and Tunis being in consequence engaged by him as mediators, sounded the consuls of the United States at their respective courts, as to the dispositions of their government. Nothing definite could be drawn from either: they merely hinted what they hoped and believed, that nothing would be paid, either for peace or as tribute; and the mediators were not disposed to continue their good offices on such grounds. The Emperor of Morocco also undertook to load the ships lying at Gibraltar with wheat, and to procure for them, as his own property, American passports for Tripoli. These were however refused by the consul of the United States at Tangiers, and by the commander of their squadron; at which the Emperor was so much incensed, that he ordered the American consul to quit his dominions, and commenced hostilities against their commerce. Morat Rais, the Scotch renegade, was however conveyed on board a British ship of war to Malta, whence he easily passed over to Tripoli, much to the disappointment of Eaton, who considered him as the chief exciter of the difficulties, and as the only person in the Pasha's service at all acquainted with naval affairs. But very little advantage was derived from his skill; worthy Peter had indeed found it much easier to profit by the licenses of his new creed, than to submit to its restrictions, and some of his old propensities had probably been revived during his residence at Gibraltar; for after his return to Tripoli, he remained some time in a constant state of intoxication.

Yusuf still carried on his preparations for defence with great energy. Moors and Arabs were called in and enrolled, some principal persons from each village or tribe being kept as hostages in the castle. The Swedish and American prisoners were employed in repairing the fortifications, making gun carriages, &c.; and as no vessels could be built in Tripoli, some were purchased and prepared for use as cruisers.

But he had another object in view, of still greater importance; which was to get Hamet again in his power. In this the Bey of Tunis consented, it is said reluctantly, to aid him. Hamouda had no objection to see the Pasha of Tripoli in an embarrassed state, or indeed to have Hamet placed on the throne; but he was little inclined to favor the pretensions of the latter on the score of legitimacy, he himself being a usurper, and the heir to the throne of Tunis by regular descent, being a prisoner in his castle; he also apprehended that the success of Eaton's plan would encourage other christian powers to interfere in the concerns of Barbary. It was therefore proposed to Hamet to return to the government of Derne, which with his family, Yusuf offered to restore to him; and the proposition was accompanied by a hint that he would receive no farther supplies in case he remained in Tunis. The poor Prince thus driven to extremities was obliged to yield; a Russian vessel was in consequence engaged to convey him to Derne, and he was to be escorted by a guard of honor consisting of forty Tripoline soldiers, who had been sent to Tunis for the purpose.

Had these arrangements proceeded much farther, there can be little doubt as to what would have been the fate of Hamet; but information of them was conveyed to Eaton by the Sapatapa, whose services he had engaged before leaving Tunis. He was then at Leghorn, awaiting the determination of his government; no answer to his communication with regard to the restoration of Hamet had arrived, but he had just received a letter from the Secretary of State which authorized him to suppose that his plan would be favorably received. Therefore considering that the present circumstances were too important to permit delay, he hastily purchased and manned a vessel of fourteen guns, called the Gloria, and sailed in her for Tunis, where he arrived on the 18th of March, 1802. The Bey instantly demanded of him a passport for Hamet and his suite, who were on the point of departure. This he of course refused. Hamouda became outrageous, threatened to imprison him, and to declare war against the United States; but threats only suggested new resources to this energetic man, and his determination was soon taken. In order to secure himself however, he called a consultation of the principal Americans then in Tunis who having approved his measures, the Gloria was despatched with letters, to be delivered to the commander of the first American ship of war which could be met with, communicating the state of the affair, and requesting assistance to prevent the Prince from entering the Tripoline territory. The frigate Boston was luckily soon found; her commander, O'Neill, readily agreed to what was requested, and having commissioned the Gloria as an United States ship, to act against Tripoli, he sailed for the coast of Derne, in order to intercept the vessel carrying Hamet. The Gloria returned in a few days to Tunis. In the meantime Eaton had, by a promise of ten thousand dollars to the Sapatapa, to be given in case of the success of his plans, opened a communication with the Tripoline Prince, whom he was not permitted to see. Every means was used to operate on his hopes, his fears, and even his superstitious feelings. The prospects of his restoration by the aid of the United States, were contrasted with the danger, nay the certainty, of death, to which he exposed himself, by confiding in his cruel and perfidious brother; the prophecies of a Marabout, respecting his being replaced on the throne of Tripoli, by a people from the setting sun, were gravely and ingeniously repeated; and when all these representations had proved ineffectual, he was plainly assured that he would not be allowed to reach Derne, but that he would be attacked on his passage by the American squadron, and treated if taken, as a Tripoline enemy. The miserable exile had no other resource than to throw himself on the protection of the American consul. It was therefore arranged that he should sail ostensibly for Derne, furnished with a passport and also a private letter from Eaton, to be delivered to any American commander or other authority with whom he might fall in; and that the vessel should on the way put into Malta, under pretence of avoiding the Americans and Swedes. This was done, and Hamet landed safely at that island on the 11th of April.

The news of his arrival excited the strongest interest throughout Barbary. The Bey of Tunis pronounced that all was over with Yusuf, unless he made peace at once. The people of Tripoli were also much excited, as they expected an attack to be immediately made. Yusuf, though greatly alarmed, continued his preparations for defence; and it is said, assembled in the course of the summer, fifty thousand troops about the city; this was probably however, an exaggerated statement. His naval force ready for sea, amounted to one vessel of eighteen guns, one of sixteen, three of fourteen, and one of ten; with these, Morat Rais when a little sobered, proposed to sail for Gibraltar, and after releasing and manning the two vessels there lying, to put out on the Atlantic, where he expected to reap a rich harvest of prizes. In order to escape observation, he had provided his sailors with the dresses of christian nations; but this ruse, as well as the plan it was intended to promote, were soon communicated to the watchful Eaton, and by him to the officers of the squadron.

However Tripoli was so carelessly blockaded, that some of the vessels got to sea, one of which captured the brig Franklin, of Philadelphia, and carried her into Algiers, where an attempt was made to dispose of her and her crew. The American Consul at Algiers, remonstrated against this proceeding, and endeavored to procure the surrender of the brig and men, on the grounds that the Dey was bound, as guaranty of the peace between the United States and Tripoli, to cause her delivery. The Dey replied, that he had engaged to act only as mediator, but not to employ force in having the treaty respected; and that moreover the principal parties to it being then at war, and the United States actually holding Tripoli under blockade, the treaty as well as the guaranty were in fact at an end. However, after some delay, the Tripoline was ordered to quit the place, which he did, taking his prize with him, to the little port of Biserta, in the Tunisian territory, sixty miles from the capital; and the next day (July 8) the brig and her crew were advertised for sale at Tunis. What were the feelings of Eaton on this occasion may be conceived; his application to Commodore Murray who commanded the squadron nominally blockading Tripoli produced no effect; and to his mortification he saw the cruiser quit the place with the American captives in irons, (the brig being left at Biserta,) and heard of its safe entry into Tripoli actually in sight of the frigate Constellation. As a last resource, in order to alleviate the miseries of their captivity, he wrote a moderate and conciliatory letter to the Pasha, recommending him not to allow the American prisoners to be sold as slaves, but to have them treated with lenity, to refrain from farther hostilities, and even to receive Mr. Morris, the captain of the Franklin, as the agent of the United States until affairs could be arranged.

The American ships of war soon after quitted that coast, to which they did not return until the spring of 1803, leaving the consuls to defend as they could their refusal to grant passports for Tripoli. Eaton maintained his ground with obstinacy, the others yielded; the consul at Algiers gave his passport to vessels which he knew were to be laden with wheat for Tripoli; and the agent at Tangiers actually gave his, to one of the Tripoline vessels of war which had been lying at Gibraltar, and which accordingly sailed for Tripoli, laden with wheat from Morocco. These circumstances when known, put an end to all consideration and respect for the American consul, and even for the American name in Tunis; as Eaton says, "it was a matter of exultation at that piratical court, that the American consul had been abandoned by his countrymen, and the occasion was seized to humble his pride." He had involved himself in great expenses in furtherance of his plans respecting Hamet, without authorization from his government; a portion of the sums expended had been obtained in Tunis, and the ten thousand dollars promised to the Sapatapa as a bribe, and which had been forfeited by his treachery, were now demanded as the balance in a mercantile transaction. Neither party could bring any written proofs, the case was therefore referred to the Bey, who of course decided against Eaton, and the successful minister on retiring from the hall of justice, sarcastically remarked, that in Tunis they knew how to keep consuls to their promises. The demand for a frigate from the United States was renewed, which Eaton, in spite of threats and attempts to bribe him, having refused even to submit to his government, his brig, the Gloria, was seized and charged with the conveyance of a letter to the President, containing the requisition; she however got safely to Leghorn, where she was sold.

All these things Eaton could only represent to his government, which he did in forcible language; he demonstrated the weakness of the Barbary States, and showing that they had not a single ship capable of withstanding a sloop of war, again urged the employment of smaller vessels. Finally he expressed a desire to "be supported or displaced," and that "if farther concessions were to be made, he might not be the medium through which they were to be presented."

Although Eaton almost despaired of procuring the means for executing his plan upon Tripoli, yet he maintained an active correspondence with Hamet, for whose support he advanced the necessary funds. Soon after the arrival of that Prince at Malta, he had met with Captain O'Neill, of the Boston, who appeared ready to forward the project by every exertion in his power, as also did the Swedish commander. Commodore Murray too, who came there with the Constellation, thought better of the affair, and offered to take him to Derne; but he preferred going privately, in an English brig, which he had chartered, and at length sailed in November (1802) for that place, where he was received with every demonstration of affection by the inhabitants, and the surrounding Arab tribes. He was soon after joined by a nephew, who had been living in exile in Egypt, at the head of a considerable force; and thus considering himself strong enough to commence his march upon the capital, he despatched a confidential messenger to Eaton, in order to inform him of the state of his affairs, and to hasten the arrival of the expected succors; he even assured him that the appearance of a single American frigate before Tripoli, would be sufficient to cause its surrender.

The receipt of this information must have been martyrdom to Eaton; he restrained his vexation as he could, and kept the messenger concealed in his house. At length, on the 22d of February, 1803, Commodore Morris appeared off the harbor in the frigate Chesapeake, and soon after landed with one or two of his officers. The object of his visit was to contest the demand made by the Bey, for the restoration of some Tunisian property, which had been seized in an Imperial vessel while it was endeavoring to enter Tripoli. After some discussion, it was agreed that the property should be restored; but this compliance only emboldened the Bey and his minister, to demand immediate payment of all Eaton's debts in Tunis, real or pretended; and on refusal of both the commodore and the consul, the former was actually detained in Tunis, and not allowed to communicate with his ship. As they were thus completely in the power of the Bey, who had besides, at least the semblance of right in his pretensions, nothing was left but to pay the money, which was done. During these proceedings Eaton by his animated remonstrances, and by the charges which he openly advanced against the minister, had so far irritated the Bey, that he ordered him immediately to quit the place, declaring, "that he was a man of a good heart, but a wrong head; too obstinate and violent;" and that he "must have a consul more congenial with the Barbary interests." Eaton therefore took his leave, and quitted Tunis on the 10th of March. Before his departure he had introduced Hamet's agent to the commodore, and the plans and resources of that Prince were exposed to him. Morris however, either did not partake of Eaton's conviction relative to the practicability of the scheme, or did not anticipate from its success results so favorable to his country as to warrant his interference. He therefore refused all immediate assistance, and only promised to appear before Tripoli in June, when, "provided an equivalent were guarantied to the United States in the event of success," he would furnish Hamet with "twenty barrels of powder." He did indeed appear before Tripoli about the end of May, with five frigates and a schooner; but, with the exception of an unsuccessful attempt to destroy some vessels laden with wheat, which had been chased into the harbor of Old Tripoli, (the ancient Sabrata) he confined himself entirely to negotiations. Yusuf demanded two hundred thousand dollars and the expenses of the war "for a peace," and on this being refused, he told the Commodore that "the business was at an end, and that he must depart." Morris quitted the coast immediately, leaving two frigates to blockade the port; he soon after received orders to return to America, where he was tried before a court martial, and received severe censure for his inactivity and incapacity. Captain John Rodgers who was left in command, succeeded on the 21st of June in destroying the Tripoline ship of war of twenty-two guns, which as before stated had sailed from Gibraltar, loaded with wheat by the Emperor of Morocco. With Hamet no communication appears to have taken place.

Eaton arrived at Boston on the 5th of May 1803, and in June proceeded to Washington, to adjust his accounts and to urge the adoption of more rigorous measures towards the Barbary powers. He appears to have been coldly received. His expenses incurred on Hamet's account, were not allowed by the Department of State, nor indeed were they completely admitted until they had been before Congress during its two ensuing sessions. His desire to be relieved from his situation, unless a more determined course were pursued, was considered as a resignation of his office, in which Mr. Cathcart had been appointed to succeed him; and instructions had been forwarded to that gentleman to negotiate both with Tripoli and Tunis, on the amount to be paid as presents and yearly tribute. To crown all, a letter had been written to the Bey, in which Eaton was declared "to have gone beyond the letter and spirit of his instructions," and his acts were "disclaimed as in opposition to his orders." With all these circumstances he was not indeed made acquainted immediately; but the manner of his reception did not impress him favorably with respect to the members of the Administration, and much increased his natural irritability.

The American government did not however neglect to take advantage of his information and experience; and news having arrived of some success on the part of Hamet, it was determined to send a much larger force to the Mediterranean. This squadron sailed on the 13th of August, under the command of Commodore Preble; and after halting a few days in the Straits of Gibraltar, in order to settle affairs with the Emperor of Morocco at Tangiers, it joined the other ships off Tripoli in October. A circumstance here occurred of the most disastrous nature, and which probably contributed more than any other, to prevent the dethronement of Yusuf, or the termination of the differences between the United States and the Barbary nations, in a manner entirely satisfactory to the former. The frigate Philadelphia, while in chase of a Tripoline ship on the 31st of October (1803), struck upon a rock at the entrance of the harbor of Tripoli with so much violence, that she remained immoveable by any means at the disposition of the crew, and consequently defenceless. Her situation being ascertained in the city, a number of gun boats were instantly sent out, to which, as no resistance could be made, she was of necessity surrendered. The crew, consisting of three hundred, with their captain Bainbridge, were transferred to the city; two days after the ship was got off, towed into port, and being easily repaired, was likely to prove a valuable accession to the naval strength of the Pasha.

The capture of the Philadelphia was however calculated to produce a moral effect infinitely more injurious to the American cause than the mere loss of the ship, and her acquisition by Tripoli. The skill, and even the personal bravery of the naval men of the United States, had been rendered doubtful by the proceedings of the two previous years; these doubts now assumed the form of a certainty, the most unfavorable and mortifying; and unless something had been immediately done to retrieve the honor of the flag, it must have quitted the Mediterranean in disgrace, or designated every ship over which it waved, as the bearer of tribute.

But there were noble spirits in the American squadron who determined that this should not be. On the night of the 15th of February, 1804, Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, accompanied by seventy resolute men, entered the harbor of Tripoli, in a small schooner which he had previously taken and called the Intrepid, and succeeded in boarding the Philadelphia, then lying under the guns of the castle. In a few minutes the Tripoline crew were overpowered; many were killed, others swam to the shore, and communicated the astounding facts. A terrible fire was instantly opened upon the ship from the castle and batteries, aided by those of two vessels lying near; and it being impossible to carry off the Philadelphia, she was set on fire. The Americans retreated to the Intrepid; a breeze fortunately sprung up; they were soon beyond the power of their enemies, and reached the ship which awaited them, without losing a man. The Philadelphia was totally destroyed.

This heroic achievement restored confidence to the Americans, and determined Commodore Preble to make a desperate attempt upon the city. His force had however been much reduced by the loss of the Philadelphia and the recall of other ships; and judging that an addition was necessary to afford any prospect of success, he proceeded to Naples, where he obtained from the King the use of two bomb vessels and six gun boats. These were strong, heavy, flat bottomed vessels, bad sailers, but manageable by oars, and well calculated for harbor operations. The gun boats mounted each a long twenty four pounder, and were manned by thirty-five men; the bombs carried thirteen inch mortars and forty men; several Neapolitan gunners and bombardiers were also engaged to assist in working them. The whole American force thus amounted to one frigate, (the Constitution,) three brigs, three schooners, two bombs, and six gun boats, carrying in all about one hundred and twenty guns, and one thousand and sixty men; and with this armament Preble appeared before Tripoli on the 25th of July, 1804.

Yusuf was not however taken unawares, and he had made formidable preparations for resistance. The number of his troops in the city was supposed to be twenty-five thousand; the batteries mounted one hundred and fifteen pieces of cannon; besides which, the harbor was defended by nineteen gun boats, two gallies, two schooners of eight guns each, and a brig of ten guns.

The weather was for several days unfavorable for an attack. At length on the 3d of August the American squadron approached the harbor, and began to throw shells into the town. The fire was returned from the batteries and vessels, and during five hours a constant cannonade was kept up on both sides. Three of the Tripoline gun boats were boarded and taken; their other vessels were materially injured, and much damage was done to the town and fortifications: but as nothing more could be effected, the squadron withdrew, having lost only one man, Lieutenant James Decatur, and had thirteen wounded.

The results not proving sufficient to bring Yusuf to terms, another attack was made on the 7th of August, which terminated less favorably to the Americans; one of their prizes having been blown up, and their whole loss amounting to fourteen killed, and four wounded, without having produced any notable injury to the Tripolines. On the evening of this day a frigate arrived from the United States, bringing information that a large reinforcement might be soon expected, under the command of Commodore Samuel Barron, who being the senior officer, would supercede Preble. This news caused a suspension of the attacks, during which Yusuf made offers of peace, on consideration of receiving five hundred dollars as the ransom of each of his prisoners. This offer was rejected at once, and the expected reinforcement not appearing, Tripoli was bombarded on the night of the 24th of August. On the 28th another attack was made, by which the castle and town suffered considerably, and three of the Tripoline gun boats were destroyed; and on the 3d of September another, with less success.

On the 4th a bold attempt was made to set fire to the vessels lying in the harbor, and injure the batteries. The schooner Intrepid, with which Decatur had executed his enterprise on the Philadelphia, was converted into a fire ship, being filled with powder and combustibles; and in it, with merely a boat attached in order to return after the fire had been communicated, Lieutenants Wadsworth, Somers and Israel embarked, and steered in the direction of the vessels. Two of the Tripoline gallies were seen to row towards the Intrepid, and place themselves one on each side of her; a terrific explosion then took place; the three vessels were shivered into atoms, and a number of shells fell, spreading destruction on the unfortunate town. Of those who had embarked in the Intrepid, nothing was ever heard. It is supposed that seeing escape impossible, they had involved themselves and their enemies in one common destruction.

No more attempts were made upon Tripoli during this season. The storms which prevail on that coast in the Autumn had commenced, and it was considered improper to expose the small vessels to their violence. They were therefore sent to Syracuse, the Constitution and two brigs remaining to keep up the blockade.

Information of the capture of the Philadelphia did not reach the United States until March, 1804; and it seems to have produced upon the American government the same effects which it had upon the officers of the squadron. It infused energy into its councils, and determined the President to act with more vigor than he had hitherto manifested; he resolved "to send to the Mediterranean a force which would be able, beyond the possibility of a doubt, to coerce the enemy to a peace, on terms compatible with the honor and the interests of the country." Four frigates were prepared for this purpose, and placed under the command of Commodore Samuel Barron, who was furnished with extensive authority, to act against or treat with the Barbary powers.

News had arrived that Hamet had met with some successes in his expedition from Derne against his brother, and the President "considering that concerted operations by those who have a common enemy were entirely justifiable, and might produce effects favorable to both, without binding either to guaranty the objects of the other," says in his instructions to Barron, "with respect to the ex-Pasha of Tripoli, we have no objection to your availing yourself of his co-operation with you against Tripoli, if you shall upon a full view of the subject, after your arrival upon the station, consider his co-operation expedient." Eaton had been appointed to accompany the squadron as navy agent for the Barbary states, with a view to his being employed, in case a junction with Hamet were determined on; but he was placed entirely under the orders of the Commodore, and is merely mentioned in the instructions to that officer as likely to be "extremely useful." Before the departure of the squadron, information was received that Hamet had been deserted by his followers, and had taken refuge in Egypt. Of his expedition no particulars appear to be on record, and no account can be obtained of the circumstances which led to his failure: but between Yusuf in possession, and Hamet as pretender, unsupported too by any man of strong character, and without resources, the contest could not have been doubtful. No change however was made in the destination of Eaton, who sailed with the squadron in the above mentioned capacity, in July, 1804, and arrived at Malta on the 5th of September following. He there learnt that Hamet, fearing to trust himself in the hands of the Turkish authorities in Egypt, had taken refuge among the revolted Mamelukes, in one of the provinces up the Nile. This did not discourage Eaton; determining at least to have an interview with the exiled Prince, he prevailed on Commodore Barron to commit the affair to his charge, and sailed with Captain Isaac Hull in the brig Argus for Alexandria, where he arrived on the 25th of November, 1804.

(To be continued.)

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

IMPROMPTU,

On seeing that the Publisher of the Messenger had changed the color of its covers.

So you're changing your colors, I see, master White, But say now d'ye think it is perfectly right? Yet I own, on reflection, it is not so wrong, And the reason, I think, is sufficiently strong: Give it up? Then I'll tell you at once to your shame, You're a man of all colors yourself—by your name; For all the seven colors, you know, must unite To make the commixture that people call white.

P. Q.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

MR. WHITE,—On looking over a young lady's Album a few evenings since, I met with the following lines, of which, with her permission, I immediately took a copy. I now enclose them to you for insertion in the Messenger, hoping that some one of your numerous readers may not only be able to tell me in what language they are written, but let me still further into the secret by giving me a translation of them.

"'Adhmhur mar dhia neo bhasmhor 'ta "'N t'oglach gu caidreach a shuis re d' sqa: "Sa chluin, sa chìth re faad na hùin "Do bhriara droigheal, 's do fhrea gradh cùin."

I was also allowed to transcribe from the same source, two other pieces which I send you herewith, under an impression that they are well worthy a place in your interesting miscellany.

* * *

STANZAS

ADDRESSED TO MISS ——.

Younger heads will bow before thee, Younger hearts than mine adore thee, Younger lips due praises sing thee, Younger hands choice flowers shall bring thee— But when Time's unmelting frost, Once hath chill'd Love's altar-flame, Breasts, to passion's impulse lost, Never after burn the same: Then what has Age like mine to do With youthful Beauty, pretty Lou? Brighter eyes will sparkle near thee, Quicker ears rejoice to hear thee, Gayer forms around thee pressing, Woo thy gentle arms' caressing: But when Fate's severest blow, Bursts the heart's most cherish'd ties; Lays its long-nurs'd wishes low, Hope dismay'd from misery flies: Then what has grief like mine to do With joyous Beauty, pretty Lou?

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

THE SYBIL'S LEAF.

Raven-hair'd! and yet so fair, in opening youth! Dark-eyed! with snowy brow of beaming truth! How can thy Destiny but happy be? Loved of a hundred hearts! bright rising star! Light that shall bless admiring eyes afar! How many breasts shall wildly throb for thee? Thine too, for one of kindred worth shall sigh, With thought deep-seated in his soft blue eye, air, but with sun-tinged roses on his cheek; Liberal in speech, in action bold and free, Save when with timid love he bows to thee And silent muses what he dare not speak. Thou hast not yet beheld, but shalt ere long— And loved, drink in the music of his tongue, And feel thy bosom a strange thrill pervade:— Fortune and health shall on your union smile, And lisping lips shall every care beguile, Till late in peace, thy lamp of life shall fade.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

And Ruth said, entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.

Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.—Ruth i. 16, 17.

TO MY WIFE.

Where e'er thou goest I will go, And share with thee in weal or wo— And where thy wearied footsteps rest, Thy head shall pillow on my breast. Thy people shall my people be— Thy kindred find a friend in me— Thy God shall be my God—one hope Shall bear our fainting spirits up. My earthly joys with thee shall die, And in thy grave forgotten lie— So God in justice deal with me, If aught but death part me and thee.

HANOVER.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

THE KISS.—A la Moore.

'Tis a sweet boy! his eye is bright, Smooth is his cheek, and velvet soft, And his rosy, pulpy lips invite The kiss I give, in sooth, full oft. How glows my eye, and my heart, how wild It beats, as I kiss the lovely child! But there's a cause ye little ken, Why thus I love to kiss the boy! If thou wert absent, Julia, then, The kiss I love so soon would cloy, 'Twould not be half so oft as now, 'Twould not be half so sweet, I trow. I mark when thy lip presses his, And, ere the dewy moisture's flown, I steal it with another kiss, And dream I rip it from thy own! E'en such a kiss thrills through my heart, What bliss would thine own lips impart!

P. H.

Written in the summer of 1827.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

LOVE—MUTUAL BUT HOPELESS.

O! the light of thine Eye is the beam that falls Through the narrow grate, on the Dungeon floor, To show the sad captive the strength of his walls, And remind him of joys he must taste no more. And that melting voice is Love's whispered breath, By night through that grated casement stealing, To rouse him from slumbers as heavy as death, To hopeless wishes, and useless feeling. But that voice is dear to his wasted heart, And dear to his eye is that lonely ray; Though they wound his bosom, he loves the smart, Nor wishes for death, but when these are away.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

TO DESPAIR.

Hail to thy tranquil and secure abode, The gloomy refuge of the tortured breast; Where anxious Care resigns his weary load; And wasted Sorrow sighs herself to rest. No treacherous Hope here flatters and deceives, No shortlived Rapture cheats the ravished sense; No airy dreams delirious Fancy weaves; Hope—Rapture—Fancy—all are banished hence. Here Fear, with startling cry, no more appals, For he who knows the worst no harm can dread: And keen affliction's dart as harmless falls, As the vain storm that pelts the senseless dead. Here no fierce Passions agitate the breast, But Rage is quelled, and Hate forgets his foe: Pride stoops; Ambition vails his haughty crest; And Envy covets nought that kings bestow. But Love still feeds the never dying flame, Whose cold pale light scarce breaks the settled gloom, Like the Sepulchral lamp, whose livid gleam Watches above the Silence of the Tomb. That light no more the dazzled sense beguiles; That flame no more the frozen bosom warms; Yet dear, as when, all bright in rosy smiles, It led my faithful Laura to my arms. But she is lost; and now this calm abode Affords a refuge to my weary breast; And Care, at length resigns his weary load; And wasted Sorrow sighs herself to rest.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

My grandfather who had died at the age of eighty-six, was the first object I examined; his snowy locks had become, through the influence of the leaden mantle which enveloped him, of a blood color, &c. &c.—Prince Puckler Muskau's visit to the vault of his ancestors.

"Have ye torn away the fun'ral pall?— Did ye strip each corpse to sight?— Then leave me, in my ancestral hall, I visit the dead to-night—" The clock struck twelve and I took the lamp With a solemn step and slow— Down—down I went, and my echoing tramp Rang deep in the vault below. I saw the dust of centuries round; And I felt my courage droop;— My eyes were rivetted—strained—spell-bound— By three of that awful group. I stood in the charnel house of those, Whose blood in my veins now ran; My current of life seem'd nearly froze As I strove the scene to scan. An aged man with his "gory locks" And sightless sockets was there,— And staring seem'd from his leaden box With a stern—reproachful air. Wrapp'd in embroider'd cloth of gold, Lay a noble knight and tall— And I knew at once the warrior bold, Who hung in my castle hall. At head of his Cuirassiers,—there he Was charging the flying Swede; But here—oh pitiful sight to see! The victor lay low indeed. In a gorgeous robe of silk, here lay The finest of female forms; I did but touch her—she pass'd away— My hand was alive with worms. I sunk on my knees in fervent prayer; Tears fell—and my bosom thaw'd; Horror gave place to the feeling, there Of trust in the mighty God. I rose without or shudder or dread, And I kiss'd that aged face; I took a lock from the sightless head, And calmly quitted the place. But never again till I drink the cup Of death—will I enter there— The power of prayer, might bear me up— But God, he hath said—forbear!!!

At the suggestion of a friend, whose fine taste selected the following effusion of the celebrated "Ettrick Shepherd," from some of the periodicals of the day, we gladly insert it in our columns. It is a most touching tribute of fraternal affection to an elder sister, from one of the most distinguished bards of modern times.

THERE'S NAE LADDIE COMING.

BY THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD.

There's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean, There's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean; I hae watch'd thee at mid-day, at morn, an' at e'en, An' there's nae laddie coming for thee, my dear Jean. But be nae down-hearted though lovers gang by, Thou'rt my only sister, thy brother am I; An' aye in my wee house thou welcome shalt be, An' while I hae saxpence, I'll share it wi' thee. O Jeanie, dear Jeanie, when we twa were young, I sat on your knee, to your bosom I clung; You kiss'd me, an' clasp'd me, an' croon'd your bit sang, An' bore me about, when you hardly dought gang. An' when I fell sick, wi' a red watery ee, You watched your wee brother, an' fear'd he wad dee; I felt the cool hand, and the kindly embrace, An' the warm trickling tears drappin aft on my face. Sae wae was my kind heart to see my Jean weep, I closed my sick ee, though I wasna asleep; An' I'll never forget till the day that I dee, The gratitude due, my dear Jeanie, to thee! Then be nae down-hearted, for nae lad can feel Sic true love as I do, or ken you sae weel; My heart it yearns o'er thee, and grieved wad I be If aught were to part my dear Jeanie an' me.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

REMARKS ON THE REVIEW OF GOVERNOR TAZEWELL'S REPORT.

MR. WHITE:—I have just read the Review of Governor Tazewell's Report to the Legislature, upon the subject of a Deaf and Dumb Asylum, in your last number, and am sorry to find that, amongst many things which I like, it contains some misstatements which, I think, do great injustice to that document, and to its author; and which I must therefore beg leave to correct.

In the first place, in noticing that part of the paper in which the Governor argues that as the last census shews that the whole number of deaf mutes in our State is only about four hundred and twenty-two, and the experience of other States, particularly Pennsylvania and Connecticut, has proved that only one-fifteenth of the whole number in any community can be drawn to such an institution, it is fair to conclude that the actual number of pupils who could be drawn to our asylum would not exceed twenty-eight; the Reviewer remarks that the Governor "seems to have founded his argument upon the supposition that the deaf and dumb pupils to be educated at the proposed asylum in Virginia, are to be maintained from their own resources, or the private liberality of their friends; whereas the very object of applying for legislative aid, is to enable many of these indigent children of misfortune to obtain instruction at the public expense." But this is obviously a misapprehension of the document; for the Governor says expressly in a passage quoted by the Reviewer himself, "the question seems to be resolved into this,—Can the Legislature reasonably promise itself, that by the employment of any means which it ought to use, it may concentrate at any point within this State sufficient inducements to draw thither the proper number of such pupils?" But it is quite apparent that among the "any means," and "sufficient inducements," which he was here speaking of, he included a provision for the support of indigent pupils, as a matter of course. Indeed, the very object of the establishment, as the Reviewer himself remarks, implies the propriety of such a provision, and the whole tenor of the Report accordingly takes it for granted throughout.

But the Reviewer asks: "If this was not the ground of the Governor's reasoning, why does he suppose that not more than one-fifteenth of the whole number of deaf mutes could be induced to resort to a seminary for instruction?" Why, for the reasons which he has so clearly stated, and which the Reviewer ought to have understood; that such had been the experience of other States, particularly Pennsylvania and Connecticut, and there was nothing to authorize the hope of a different result in our own case. Yet he asks, "Does he mean that a larger number could not be obtained if the public expense were proffered for their education and subsistence?" Undoubtedly he means this; for he says expressly in a passage which the Reviewer quotes, that in those States to whose experience he refers, "the most liberal means have been employed to attract to their long established asylums all of that class who might be induced to resort thither;" and he adds still more explicitly in another passage which the Reviewer does not quote, but which he ought to have read, speaking of the same institutions of Pennsylvania and Connecticut, "The only other aid" (besides acts of incorporation,) "which either of these seminaries has ever received since, from the several States within the limits of which they are situated, has been the appropriation of a sum of money annually to pay for the instruction of a certain number of persons, the children of citizens of these States respectively, whose parents were in such indigent circumstances as not to be able to defray the charge of their education." It is apparent, then, that the Governor's reasoning on this point is entirely sound; whilst the criticism of the Reviewer upon it is founded altogether upon a mere misconception of his own.

But taking it for granted that the number of pupils in our asylum would not exceed twenty-eight, the Governor proceeds to inquire whether it would not be better to provide for the support and education of them, that is, of the indigent ones of course, at the asylum of one of our sister States, rather than to establish a new seminary for them within our own bounds; and suggests several reasons in favor of such a course. First, it would aid the cause of science, which he thinks would be much better promoted, in the "more sublime and long-hidden" branches of it at least, by all communities sending in their contributions to a common stock, wherever that may happen to have been first begun, rather than by their separately exerting themselves to domesticate those mysterious novelties prematurely within their respective bounds. Secondly, it would save money, which is the sinews of charity as well as of war, and ought therefore to be husbanded with great care. And thirdly, and above all, the proceeding, or rather perhaps the principle which it involves, would tend to strengthen the union, and bind the states together. Thus he says: "To all this let me add, that if there is any thing better calculated than any other to cement our union, and to keep bright the chain which I trust will bind these states together while time lasts, it will be found in the contribution of each to objects approved by all, without any jealous regard to the actual spot at which such a general good may commence. If a generous spirit of this sort is but once manifested, its effects will be soon seen and felt by all. Acts of kindness will not fail to induce forbearance, and to generate sympathy. When each State shall feel that for the aid it requires to accomplish any object of general utility, it may rely confidently on its co-states, there will be no more applications to the federal government to pervert the language of the constitution, in order to accomplish the unholy scheme of robbing a minority to enrich a majority. Then those who contend but for the spoils of the vanquished, may be safely left to the contempt which such a motive cannot fail to inspire with all the generous and the good. It would have been worthy of Virginia to set such an example; it is worthy of her to imitate that which others have already taught."

Now these views of the Governor may not be exactly correct, and I freely acknowledge that I do not adopt them myself; but what is there in any of them, I ask, that ought to excite the alarm, or kindle the indignation of the Reviewer? Obviously nothing at all. Yet after quoting them at full length, he proceeds to comment upon them in the following words: "It is in these passages that we think lurks the fallacy, and we might add the mischief of the Governor's views. He sets out first by deprecating all legislative interference on the subject." Where? In what part of the Report? For I have not seen such a thought in it; and I have read the whole, though the Reviewer it seems has not; and the passages under his notice most certainly do not suggest any thing like it. On the contrary, they directly advise that the Legislature shall interfere in the case, although not precisely in the Reviewer's way. But he goes on: "'Let us alone' is his cardinal maxim, and the maxim of the school of politicians to which he belongs. Let individuals take care of themselves, and of each other; but let not government presume to thrust its paternal care upon the community." And where does he get this idea from again? Not certainly from any thing in the Report before him. And was it right, then, was it courteous in him to travel out of the record to arraign the political opinions of the Governor, and the school of politicians to which he belongs? Was it proper even to glance at such a martial topic in the amicable columns of the Literary Messenger? Or if it was, and if the Reviewer believed that the favorite maxim of the Governor, and the school of politicians to which he belongs, is, "Let us alone," did he think it fair to represent him as holding it in all the extent of its terms, without limitation or reserve? Or, is the maxim itself utterly and absolutely false, to all intents and purposes whatever? And is there nothing—nothing at all—to which it may be properly applied? Is there nothing which the Legislature ought not to meddle with? If this is his opinion, it is easy to see to what class of politicians he belongs, and it is one whose latitudinarianism—but I will not follow the bad example which he has set me, and abuse your peaceable pages to expose the danger of its doctrines, and the folly of its flights.

But the Reviewer proceeds: "In the next place, however, if the State, according to his Excellency's notions, will officiously obtrude into these private matters, why then let the funds of the Commonwealth go abroad and enrich some sister State. These kind offices will brighten the chain of union which binds the states together. They will teach us all to rely more upon each other, and less upon the general government.—This is the sum and substance of the Governor's reasoning; and dangerous and fallacious as we believe it to be, we feel the stronger obligations, coming from the high quarter it does, to resist and refute it if we can." But is this a fair representation of the Governor's reasoning? Is it not rather a gross caricature of it? For, has the Governor hinted any thing like a proposal that our State should send her funds abroad to aid all the institutions of her sister states, instead of keeping them at home to support her own? On the contrary, does he not say expressly, "I will not admit that there is a single citizen within the limits of Virginia more desirous than I am to domesticate here every thing needful to the well being of the State?" And does he not accordingly take good care to confine his recommendation of a contribution to the institutions of other states, to cases of a peculiar character, in which, as in the instance of a deaf and dumb asylum, the object in view is to furnish a small portion of our citizens with the means of access to the "more sublime and long-hidden truths of modern science?" And does he not, moreover, declare it to be a part of his plan that every other State shall reciprocate the generosity of ours, so as to return a pretty fair quid pro quo into our exchequer? And what is there, then, that is so very "dangerous" in the Governor's reasoning? Nothing at all that I can see. Yet our Reviewer is so much alarmed at it, or rather at a phantom of his own imagination which he mistakes for it, that he flies off from the true point of inquiry, and instead of calmly answering the argument before him, as he might have done, breaks out into a warm and impassioned strain of protestation against a mere figment of his own, which is truly imposing; but unfortunately without object, and of course without point. Thus he asks, "did any one ever dream that Kentucky had given cause of offence to her sister states by erecting an asylum for the poor deaf mutes? We apprehend not." Why then does he ask the question? Has the Governor written any thing which fairly suggests such a singular query? Or was the Reviewer himself dreaming when he wrote? Yet he adds, "the truth is, that his Excellency the Governor is entirely mistaken in his views upon the subject!"—whereas the truth is, that his Highness the Reviewer is entirely mistaken in his views of the Report. But he keeps on, and adds: "What a ridiculous business it would be, if twenty-four families in the same neighborhood were to act upon the principle, that each was to take care of all the rest in preference to itself!" Very true; but it is his own idea. The Governor's seems to be, that if the good old lady at the head of any one of these families should choose to send her little deaf and dumb daughter to the learned French master who was teaching a class of sourd-muets in her neighbor's house, instead of importing another Frenchman, (or Yankee, who stands ready to take any body's place,) to open a similar school in her own domicile, it might save money and increase love—especially if all the rest would act on the same principle in return. And is there any thing so very ridiculous in this? The same sort of hallucination runs through the remainder of the paragraph; but I cannot think it necessary to expose it any further.