necessarily, to avoid recrimination, pass over details which, however mildly stated, could only tend to excite horror, and shortly beg of your excellency to consider,

"That, notwithstanding the inhuman manner of his being cast upon an enemy's shore, surrounded by the snares of perfidy and malice, under every circumstance of aggravated provocation, with precarious means of subsistence, and deprived of all knowledge of the destination or even existence of his family; he took counsel, not from his wrongs, but from his honour; so that it is absurd, if not impossible, to enter into any justification of a character so proudly unimpeached.

"Your memorialist, therefore, requests that all further persecution may cease. And though the world is not rich enough to make him any compensation for the injuries he has sustained, he may be allowed, as far as possible, to forget the past and to return to his country, in order to join his family, after a separation of near four years, and take measures for his future establishment, &c. "WILLIAM SAMPSON.

66 Paris, November 13, 1801."

Thus the matter stood when lord Cornwallis left Paris for Amiens. The memorial contained such facts, such proofs, and such references, as left nothing to doubt. It would have been insulting lord Cornwallis to have offered him proof, had it been possible, that I did not arrest myself in Portugal, and imprison myself in the house of the corregidor of Oporto, and in the dungeons of Lisbon. But I had long ago referred to Mr. Walpole, who knew it all. With respect to what I had not done in France, it was scarcely to be expected that I should have proofs of that; yet fortune seemed to favour justice in that respect. For the general (Musnier) now sent to command in the city of Amiens, was an officer of unquestioned honour, and a man of high consideration in every respect; and this gentleman had commanded at Bourdeaux when I was

there. Having had the good fortune to form a friendship and intimacy with him, he knew my whole manner of life in that town, until his departure for the army of reserve; a short time before I myself quitted Bourdeaux. I therefore wrote a letter to general Musnier, and begged of him to testify what he knew; and I wrote also by the same post to colonel Littlehales to apprize him of this fact.

From this latter gentleman I received the answer subjoined :

"SIR,-I received the honour of your letter of the 8th instant last night; and in answer to its contents, I have only to assure you that I sealed and forwarded the letters which you transmitted through me to Mrs. Sampson, the day they reached me.

"In regard to your memorial to lord Cornwallis, I likewise submitted it to his lordship, and by his desire transmitted it to one of the under secretaries of state for the home department, to be laid before lord Pelham.

"I shall inquire on my arrival in London, which will probably be very soon, whether or not your memorial has been duly received; but it is not in my power further to interfere in your case. I have the honour to be, sir, your most obedient humble servant, "E. B. LITTLEHALES.

"To W. Sampson, Esq."

And from general Musnier I had the following letter, written in English :

"A Monsieur William Sampson, Hotel Bourbon,

Rue Jacob, à Paris.

"I DELIVERED, dear sir, your letter to colonel Littlehales, and I have the satisfaction to tell you he received it in a very obliging manner, and assured me that the marquis Cornwallis had written to the Irish government in your favour. He promised me also to inform you of the answer, and to continue his endeavours for

P

the success of your desires. Be assured nothing on my side shall be wanting to prevent their forgetting to forward this affair. I am ever yours,

"MUSNIER.

"Amiens, 22nd Frimaire, 10th year."

Thus things remained until the latter end of January, when I heard from my wife that Mr. Dobbs had been told by Mr. Marsden that I could not be permitted to return home, but that there was no objection to my family being permitted to come to me.

This Mr. Marsden is the same gentleman of the law who so candidly arranged with lord Castlereagh the recognisance I was obliged to sign before I could quit bridewell. After what had passed in Paris I did not expect to be turned round again to Mr. Marsden to ask for an answer; it was to lord Cornwallis, and not to Mr. Marsden, I had addressed myself. As to Mr. Marsden, I think of him just as I did before; as to him and his associates they could never deceive me, for I never trusted them; nor could anything they could say either wound or injure me; for "insults are innocent where men are worthless." But lord Cornwallis's honour was at stake; it became him to have redressed me, and he has not done it.

Here then was, at length, something that appeared to be decided; at least there seemed to be a relinquishment of that monstrous idea of separating me from my family. My friends and I were now assured that passports would no longer be refused to my family to come and join me; but the venom was not yet assuaged; my persecution had not reached its term; for my wife about this time, having written to the duke of Portland, in her impatience to know her destiny; he answered her, and promised to lay her letter before lord Pelham; and after some time she received the following letter from Mr. King.

"MADAM,-I am directed by lord Pelham to acquaint you, in answer to your letter to the duke of Portland

of the 5th instant, requesting permission for your husband to return to Ireland, that his lordship is very sorry it is not in his power to comply with your request. I am, madam, your most obedient humble servant,

"J. KING."

Indeed, the letter by which my kinsman, Mr. Dobbs, announced Mr. Marsden's answer to my wife, was of very bad augur for any view either of humanity, of justice towards me, towards my unoffending wife and children, or my wretched country. In it are these expressions, "I received a letter from your husband a short time ago," and then it concludes, " I would have written to him, but I do not feel that, under the existing circumstances, I ought to do so." Now this Mr. Dobbs is my near kinsman; he is a man whom I myself recommended and prevailed upon to be the agent of negotiation between the state prisoners and the government, at a time when it entered little into my thoughts or his, or those of any other person, that I was to be the dupe of the generous part I acted. As to my kinsman, he could not be accused of any but the most natural and inoffensive motive for corresponding with me, and the circumstances he stood in as an agent in the bargain I made, called upon him imperiously to communicate with me. Judge, then, by these expressions in his letter, of the terror that still brooded over this newly-united kingdom, so degrading to those who live under its iron sway, and a thousand times more dreadful to an honest mind than death.

*The editor is unwilling to let this statement appear without adding, that Mr. Dobbs was in every action of his life so zealous in the cause of humanity and his country, as to have brought himself into suspicion with the ultra-loyal; and that he has reason to believe that his conduct in this instance was either misunderstood or misinterpreted.

END OF THE LETTERS WRITTEN IN FRANCE.

THE SUBJECT CONTINUED, IN A SERIES

OF LETTERS FROM NEW YORK.

LETTER XXVIII.

Of the terror in France.

New York, 1807.

YOUR flattering expressions, my dearest friend, and the interest you take in my fate, are reward enough for any trouble it can cost me to give my opinion upon the topics you point out, and to relate the sequel of my story. As in every work some method must be observed, I shall take the first that presents itself, and, in adopting the order of your questions, make each the subject of a separate letter.

To speak of the terror in France is, I must say, to begin with the most painful part of my task. To defend or justify the enormities committed on that great theatre could least of all be expected from one of my principles or feelings. He who has been devoted to the cause of liberty, and a martyr to the desire of promoting human happiness, must turn with most natural abhorrence from the vices by which the idol of his heart has been profaned. But since the world has been made to resound with these crimes, since they have been celebrated through the universe by eloquence so much beyond my pretensions, until every echo has been wearied with the repetition of them, it would be an idle affectation to go over a ground so beaten. I could, however, wish that those who have been so