forced to fight the battles of those his soul abhors. Death, that relieves the wretch, brings no relief to him, for he lived not for himself, but for those more dear to him than life. Not for himself does he feel the winter's blast, but for those who are now unprotected, houseless, and forlorn. Where shall his wife now wander, when maddened with despair? Where shall his father lay his wearied bones? Where shall his innocent babes find food, unless the ravens feed them? Oh hard and cruel men! Oh worse than Hellish fiends !—may not the poor find pity? What's he that now reviles them? beshrew his withered heart.

Oh Stewart !-Oh West! children of genius-sons of Columbia !-where are now your pencils? Will you profane the bounteous gifts of nature, in flattering the mighty and the great? and withhold a nobler aid to the cause of the poor and the afflicted?

A LETTER

From NEW-YORK, to the Right Honorable

LORD SPENCER,

His Britannic Majesty's Principal Secretary of State,

FOR THE HOME DEPARTMENT.

MY LORD,

ACCORDING to your orders, I was landed in this City on the 4th of July, 1806, by Captain Sutton, of the Windsor Castle. I was sorry his majesty's ministers had judged it unsafe that I should be seen at Halifax, as I had need to recruit my health, and to reinforce my principles. I feared to distress your lordship's humanity with the account of my sufferings, or I should have written sooner. My first sickness was the Yellow Jaundice, of which I nearly died: I was afterwards seized with the Rheumatism, and nearly lost my limbs. I am now, thank God, in good health and spirits, and shall take every means of shewing myself grateful for past favors.

The day I arrived, they were commemorating their Independence-carousing, singing Republican songs, drinking Revolutionary toasts, bonfires blazing, cannons firing, and HUZZAING FOR LIBERTY !!!

I was in expectation that the Lord Mayor would have brought the military, and fired on them; but the Mayor is not a Lord; and I was informed he was seen drinking with some of the soldiers. They were also making an out-cry about a Yankee sailor, called PEARCE, that was killed-off by Captain Whitby. It is a pity we hadn't them in Ireland-we might have ten thousand of them shot in a day-and not a word about them.

I would have gone to the Barracks myself to inform against them, but there was no Barrack. The soldiers live in their own houses, and sleep with their own wives. Nay more--they have countinghouses, clerks, ware-houses, ships, coaches, countryseats the like was never seen amongst common soldiers.

I asked, if there was no clergyman that was a Justice of Peace, to head the military? They shewed me a Bishop, a mild venerable looking old gentleman, that would not know which end of a gun to put foremost; fitter to give a blessing, than to lead a corporal's guard—no vigour-no energy.—And they say the clergy dont act as justices in this country. Indeed, the clergy here are not like certain clergy-as your lordship shall judge.

There is not a clergyman of any description in New-York, nor, as far as I can learn, in all America, that can lead a concert, or play upon the fiddle, or that dances, or manages an assembly, or gets drunk, or rides in at the death of a fox, or that wears buckskin breeches, or a ruffled shirt, or sings a baudy song,

or keeps a mistress :-All they do, is to marry the young people, christen their children, visit the sick, comfort the afflicted, go to church, preach twice or thrice on a Sunday, teach the living how to live, and the dying how to die; they are pure in their lives, un corruptible in their morals, and preach universal love and toleration; and what is more unaccountable, they have no tythes, and they live in the very midst of their congregations. If I might be bold to suggest any thing, and it would not be counted over zealous, I could wish there was a good book written against this abuse of tythes; and, I think, my lord, that Anacreon Moore would be a very proper person: It would be a good means of preventing emigration.

As to the government: at the head of it is an old country philosopher. I wish your lordship could get a sight of one of his shoes, with quarters up to his ancles, and tied with leather thongs. He has neither chamberlain nor vice-chamberlain, groom of the stole nor of the bed-chamber, master of the ceremonies, nor gentleman-usher of the privy-chamber, nor black rod, nor groom, nor page of the privy-chamber, nor page of the back stairs, nor messenger to his robes-he has no robes-nothing but red breeches, which are now a jest, and a threadbare one. No laundress for his body-linen, nor starcher, nor necessary-woman. He will talk with any-body, like the good-natured Vicar of Wakefield. If the stranger talks better than him, he is willing to learn; if he talks better, he is willing the stranger should profit. He is a simple gentleman every

way, and keeps his own conscience, and his own accounts-pays his own debts, and the nation's debts; and has hoarded up eight millions and a half of dollars in the treasury. Your lordship will smile at such an oddity.

. We do all we can to shake him-we do all we can to vex him-we do all we can to remove him.— He is like a wise old Dervise. He will not be shaken-he will not be vexed-he will not be moved. If he gets up, we say he is too tall. If he sits down, we say he is too short. If we think he will go to war, we say he is bloody. If we think he is for peace, we say he is a coward. If he makes a purchase, we say he ought to take it by force. If he will not persecute, we say he has no energy. If he executes the law, we say he is a tyrant.-I think, my lord, with great deference, that a good London quarto might be written and thrown at his head. He has no guards nor battle-axes, and dodges all alone upon his old horse, from the President's house to the CAPITOL. There might be an engraving to shew him hitching his bridle to a peg. The stranger in America might write the book; but he need not call himself the stranger, it appears clear enough from his works. If it could be possible to confine those works against emigration to home circulation, it would be better.They appear rather ridiculous in this country: for they know here, as well as your lordship, that people are the riches of a nation. I would humbly recommend a prohibition of their exportation. If Mr. Parkinson writes any more, would your lordship have