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some speculations on this subject, introduced
in the Edinburgh Review, No. XLII.
"But we will say a word or two upon the
mode of pronunciation; and without meaning
at all to infer from thence that any change
would now be advisable, we cannot help think-
ing it quite clear, that the foreign, and to a
certain degree the Scottish-perhaps most of
all the modern Italian manner of pronouncing
-approaches much nearer the Roman, than
that which is peculiar to England.

books ei is used where later ones have i. But
the examples which he gives, and especially
the first from Cicero, are equally applicable
to the two modes of pronouncing both the let-
ters.-We must, however, repeat, that
draw no inference, practically, against the
English method, nor in favour of a narrow-
minded adherence in this country to the old
Scottish one; on the contrary, the assimilation
of our mode of pronouncing is highly expedi-
ent, indeed necessary, as a matter of conven-
ience; and we believe there are few persons
of the present day so bigotted in their admira-
tion of antiquity, as to feel with Milton, that
to read Latin with an English mouth, is as
ill a hearing as law French." "

6

ORIGIN OF THE NINE MUSES.

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tion, by the contemplation of the beauties of nature, without effect; I determined to com mit my feelings to a letter, and ascertain the orrectness or impropriety of them. I did so, weinforming a cousin of my conviction that my wife's father was lead. This letter I put into the post office bere ten o'clock. About four in the afternoon received a letter informing me that Dr. Por had died suddenly the night before he had met in the street a friend, who informed him that he had seen in one of the papers a paragraph mentioning that Mr. Fennell had engaged with Mr. Wignell to embark for America. Dr. Porter procured the paper, and proceeded immediately to my wife's sister, to inquire respecting the truth of the report: she was from home, and he, on being so informed, with the show of considerable impatience, left my wife one shilling, and died in the evenleft the house. He went home; the next morning sent for a notary; altered his will, ing suddenly, in a chair, while on a visit at a neighbour's house, and at the moment when I thought I saw him, being seventy-six miles

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For this position, various general reasons may be given. The very circumstance of the English mode being peculiar, is a strong one. It is improbable that all other traditions should be wrong, and this right. The place, moreover, where we might most reasonably expect a correct tradition, is Italy. Again, in the chief peculiarity of the English method, the sound of the letter I, a third reason occurs: the in numberMnemosyne, Memory-Melete, THE Muses consisted originally of only three English make it a diphthong. Now, that any Meditation and Aede, Song. They were augone vowel should be either long or short, is mented to the number of nine, because the inintelligible; but that a diphthong should be habitants of their ancient town desirous of sometimes short, appears quite anomalous.placing in the temple of Apollo statues of the But there seems to be more precise and conMuses, and possessing three of extraordinary clusive proof still, in the writings of the anbeauty, they ordered three of the most skilful cient criticks. sculptors to execute, each, the statues of the

If we examine the reasons given by Quintillian respecting the hiatus, and the remarks on the force of the vowels, on which his rules are founded, we shall find that they accord more nearly with the Italian than any other mode of pronouncing them, and are most of all inconsistent with the English. Thus, E plenior litera est I angustior; but he adds what is decisive, that those two vowels coming together at the end and beginning of two consecutive words, make no great hiatus from the nature of their sounds; that they easily run into each other-a remark wholly inapplicable to the sound of E, I, in English, when they thus follow, as omne idem. Thus, too, the use of the ecthlipsis by Cato, who used to soften m into è in diem hanc :'-If the e were sounded as in Engliah, there would be the most complete hiatus here; it would scarcely be possible to sound the two words without the m; and still more, if both the i and e were so pronounced: but pronounce the i and e as in Italian, or the former as the English do e in ego, and the latter as they do a in amo, and the ecthlipsis melts the vowels into each other completely. So Quintilian tells us, that the final m is scarcely sounded in multum ille' and quantum erat; being used only as the mark of a pause between the two vowels ne coeant. Were those vowels, or were the u only, sounded as in England, there would be no fear of their running into each other, nor would there be a possibility of pronouncing the u, and dwelling upon it, without the mso where the m is cut out after u, and before a consonant, as serenum fuit. The soft sound of s in ars, and its differing from the sound of the same letter at the beginning of a word, is equally inconsistent with what Quintilian says of the riaxtio of similar consonants. x follow ings he says is bad-but tristior etiam (riaxtio) si bine collidantur stridor est, ut ars studiorum. Similar inferencees may be drawn from other sources, particularly several parts of the Orator, as c. 48, with respect to the guttural in ch. See, too, A. Gellius, VII. c. 20. ; XIX. c. 14.

With respect to the letter I, we ought to mention that some authors have held that it

had one sound among the ancients similar to its English pronunciation; and J. Lipsius says that he understands this sound only to be preserved in Britain. The ground of the opinion is, that a long I is sometimes found in ancient monuments written for EI; and that in old

three Muses. They completed the nine, from

perfect; but the nine were so exquisitely
which it was proposed to select three, the most
beautiful, it was agreed to take them all and
place them in the temple, and call them the
Nine Muses. From this accident, they deri-
ved their origin, and the six other attributes of
poetry were given to the additional sisters.

FENNEL VISION.

We insert the folloying extract from Mr. Fennel's Apology for his life, not with an intention to make this paper a repository of hobgoblin stories. But as this book is in circulation we take this occasion to remark, that, if Mr. Fennel's character is such, that his solemn asseveration entitles his statement to credibility, it can even then be considered no more than a singular circumstance as to the coincidence of time, that when, in an agitated state of mind, and perhaps an agitated state of animal spirits from the juice of the grape, he saw his sprite, at that very time his uncle

died.

from London."

CONDORCET.

pierre, on the 31st of May, 1793, Condorcet AMONG the Girondists, prosecuted by Robe'sto skulk in the most obscure corners, to elude was the very first on the list, and was obliged the persecutions of the furious jacobins. A lady, to whom he was known only by name, became, at the instance of a common friend, his generous protectress, concealing him in her house at Paris, at the most imminent hazard, till the latter end of April, 1794: when the apprehension of general domiciliary visits so much increased, and the risk of exposing both himself and his patroness, became so pressing on the mind of Condorcet, that he sesolved to quit Paris.

Without either passport or civick card, he contrived, under the disguise of a Provençal country woman, with a white cap on his head, to steal through the barriers of Paris, and reached the plains of Mont Rouge, in the district of Bourg-la-Reine, where he hoped to have found an asylum in the country-house of a gentleman with whom he had once been intimate. This friend having, unfortunately, at that very time, gone to Paris, Condorcet was under the necessity of wandering about in the fields and woods for three successive days and nights, not venturing to enter into any inn unprovided with a civick card.

Exhausted by hunger, fatigue, and anguish, with a wound in his foot, he was scarcely able to drag himself into a deserted quarry, where he purposed to await the return of his friend. At length, having advanced towards the road side, Condorcet saw him approach, was recognized, and received with open arms: but, as they both feared lest Condorcet's frequent inquiries at his friend's house should have raised suspicions; and as, at any rate, it was not advisable for them to make their entrance together in the day-time, they agreed that Condorcet should stay in the fields till dusk. It was then however, that imprudence threw him off his guard.

"BUT, before my embarkation, I went on my usual rambles to take leave of my father and mother, and the rest of the family, with all the relations whom I could visit in the neighbourhood. I had appointed the watering place before mentioned, seventy-six miles from London, as my head quarters, whither I had requested all communications to be sent to me, I had returned one evening much fatigued. and retired to bed early: I had scarcely dozed, when I was alarined with what appeared to be like the drawing of my curtains, at the foot of my bed. I raised myself and saw, or thought I saw (no matter which) the figure of my wife's father, who immediately bade me adieu, and vanished. There was no lighted candle or lamp in the room; yet, in spite of every thing that can be said to the contrary, I declare solemnly, appealing to my God for the truth, that a something, bearing exactly the ap- The forlorn exile, after having patiently pearance of the Rev. Dr. Porter, in his usual borne hunger and thirst for three days together dress, appeared, or seemed to appear, at the without so much as approaching an inn,now finds foot of my bed,as plainly as I ever witnessed man. himself incapable of waiting a few hours longer, "After a restless and distracted, sleepless at the end of which all his sufferings were to night, I arose at daybreak, and tried, by every subside in the bosom of friendship. Transmental and physical exertion, to remove the ported with this happy prospect, and foregoing impression made-in vain. Having walked all caution, which seemed to have become haabout for an hour or two, endeavouring to in-bitual to him, he entered an ium at Clamars, vigorate my mind with the pure air, and cor- and called for an omelet. His attire, his dirty rect what I then thought an erring imagina- cap, and long beard, his pale meagre counte

nance, and the ravenous appetite with which he devoured the victuals, could not fail to excite the curiosity and suspicion of the com

pany.

A member of the revolutionary committee, who happened to be present, taking it for granted that this woe-begene figure could be no other than some run-away from the Bicetre, addressed and questioned him whence he came, whether he could produce a passport, &c. which inquiries, Cordorcet, having lost all selfcommand, answered so unsatisfactorily, that he was taken to the house of the committee as a suspected person. Thence, having undergone a second interrogatory, during which he acquitted himself equally ill, he was conducted to Bourg-la-Reine: and as he gave very inconsistent answers to the questions put to him by the municipality, it was inferred, that this unknown person must have some very important reasons for wishing to continue undiscovered.

Being sent to a temporary confinement till the matter should be cleared up, on the next morning he was found senseless on the ground, without any marks of violence on his body; whence it was conjectured that he must have poisoned himself. It was well known Condorcet had for some time before carried about him the most deadly poison; and, not long before his fatal exit, he owned to a friend, that he had more than twenty times been tempted to make use of it, but was checked by motives of affection for his wife and daughter.

It was during his concealment of ten months at Paris, that he wrote his excellent History of the Progress of Human Understanding.

Thus perished one of the most illustrious of the French literati that the present age had produced.

POETRY.

SELECTED.

LORD CHATHAM.

His lordship had, in early life, a very elegant turn for poetry, which occupations of greater moment prevented him from cultivating. His friends have preserved a few specimens-the following is from the manuscripts of the Marquis of Buckingham.

TO THE

RIGHT HONOURABLE RICHARD GRENVILLE TEMPLE, LORD VISCOUNT COBHAM.

INVITATION TO SOUTH LODGE.*

From "Tyrrhena Regum Progenies," &c.

FROM Norman princes sprung, their virtues' heir,
Cobham, for thee my vaults inclose
Tokai's smooth cask unpierc'd. Here purer air,
Breathing sweet pink and balmy rose,

Shall meet thy wish'd approach. Haste then away,
Nor round and round for ever rove
The magick Ranelagh, or nightly stray
In gay Spring Garden's glittering grove.

Forsake the Town's huge mass, stretch'd long and wide,
Pall'd with Profusion's sickening joys;
Spurn the vain Capital's insipid pride,

Smoke, riches, politicks, and noise.

Change points the blunter sense of sumptuous pleasure;
And neat repasts in sylvan shed,
Where Nature's simple bloom is all the treasure,
Care's brow with smiles have often spread.

A seat of Mr. Pitt on Enfield Chace.

Now flames Andromeda's effulgent sire,

Now rages Procyon's kindled ray,
Now madd'ning Leo darts his stellar fire,
Fierce suns revolve the parching day.

The shepherd now moves faint with languid flock
To riv'let fresh and bow'ry grove,
To cool retirements of high-arching rock,
O'er the mute stream no zephyrs move.

Yet weighing Subsidies and England's Weal,
You still in anxious thought call forth
Dark ills, which Gaul and Prussia deep conceal,
Or fierce may burst from lowering North.
All-seeing Wisdom, kind to mortals, hides
Time's future births in gloomy night;
Too-busy care, with pity, Heaven derides,
Man's fond, officious, feeble might.

Use then aright the present. Things to be,
Uncertain flow, like Thames; now peaceful borne
In even bed, soft gliding down to sea;
Now mould'ring shores, and oaks uptorn,
Herds, cottages, together swept away,

Headlong he rolls; the pendent woods
And bellowing cliffs proclaim the dire dismay,
When the fierce torrents rouse the tranquil floods.
They, masters of themselves, they happy live,

Whose hearts at ease can say secure, "This day rose not in vain; let Heav'n next give "Or clouded skies, or sunshine pure."

Yet never what swift Time behind has cast,

Shall back return. No pow'r the thing
That was bid not have been; for ever past,
It flies on unrelenting wing.

Fortune, who joys perverse in mortal woe,
Still frolicking with cruel play,
Now may on me her giddy smile bestow,
Now wanton, to another stray.

If constant, I caress her; if she flies

On fickle plumes, farewell her charms! All dower I wave (save what good Fame supplies), And wrap my soul in Freedom's arms.

'Tis not for me to shrink with mean despair,

Favour's proud ship should whirlwinds toss ; Nor venal idols sooth with bart'ring prayer, To shield from wreck opprobrious dross. Midst all the tumults of the warring sphere, My light-charged bark may haply glide; Some gale may waft, some conscious thought shall cheer,

And the small freight unanxious glide.

WILLIAM PITT, 1750.

FROM THE ENGLISH MIN STRELSY.

TOO late I staid...forgive the crime,

Unheeded flew the hours, How noiseless falls the foot of time,

That only treads on flowers!

What eye with clear account remarks
The ebbing of the glass,
When all its sands are diamond sparks,
Which dazzle as they pass!

Oh! who to sober measurement,

Time's happy swiftness brings, When birds of paradise have lent Their plumage for his wings!

R. W. SPENCER.

CONSCIOUS GUILT.

"BUT tell me; why must those be thought to 'scape Whom Guilt, array'd in every dreadful shape, Still urges, and whom Conscience, ne'er asleep, Wounds with incessant strokes, not loud but deep, While the vex'd mind, her own tormentor, plies A scorpion scourge, unmark'd by human eyes! Trust me, no punishment the poets feign, Can match the fierce, th' unalterable pain, He feels, who, night and day, devoid of rest, Carries his own accuser in his breast."

BOWLES:

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THE WIDOWED MOTHER'S SOLACE.
RESTOR'D to life, one pledge of former joy,
One source of bliss to come, remain'd-her boy!
Sweet in her eye the cherish'd infant rose,
At once the seal and solace of her woes ;
When the pale widow clasp'd him to her breast,
Warm gush'd the tears, and would not be represt;
In lonely anguish, when the truant child
Leap'd o'er the threshold, all the mother smiled.
In him, while fond imagination view'd
Husband and parents, brethren and friends renewed,
Each vanish'd lock, each well remember'd grace,
That pleas'd in them, she sought in Javan's face.
MONTGOMERY.

TWILIGHT.

I LOVE thee, Twilight! as thy shadows roll,
The calm of evening steals upon my soul,
Sublimely tender, solemnly serene,

Still as the hour, enchanting as the scene.
I love thee, Twilight! for thy gleams impart
Their dear, their dying influence on my heart,
When o'er the harp of thought, thy passing wind
Awakens all the musick of the mind,

And joy and sorrow as the spirit burns
And hope and memory sweep the chords by turns;
While Contemplation, on seraphick wings,
Mounts with the flame of sacrifice and sings.
Twilight! I love thee; let thy glooms increase,
Till every feeling, every pulse is peace;
Slow from the sky, the light of day declines,
Clearer within the dawn of glory shines,
Revealing in the hour of nature's rest,
A world of wonders in the poet's breast.

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MONTGOMERY..

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR

JOHN PARK,

By MUNROE & FRANCIS,

NO. 4 CORNHILL.

Price three dollars per annum, half in advance. Subscribers may be supplied with the preceding numbers.

DEVOTED TO POLITICKS AND BELLES LETTRES.

VOL. I.

POLITICAL.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

ON THE BRITISH NATIONAL CHARACTER.

THERE are not a few among those that have righteously detested the tyrannical character of France, and abstractedly wished success to the arms of nations struggling against her despotism, who have nevertheless indulged some apprehensions, lest the triumph of the Allies would be indirectly unfavourable to the interests of the United States. They have feared that Great-Britain, inflated by the unexampled glory she has acquired, confident of her own security, and conscious of her military power, would rise in her pretensions, as she has risen in the means of enforcing them. Deeply as we execrate the wickedness and stupidity, which have attached the destinies of this country, as far as was possible, to the sinking and universally hated cause of France, the exultation we feel on the complete regeneration of European freedom is not damped by any suspicion that it will induce Great-Britain to advance new or unjust claims, as the condition of peace with us, though her most malignant foe.

It is natural that those, who judge of the policy of other nations by the recent conduct of our own, should entertain such expectations. The American government, since it has been administered by democratick rulers, has displayed but a pitiful series of expediente deriving their character from external circumstances. An eye was always kept on the progress of French aggrandizement; and as it became more formidable to Great-Britain, and the result more dubious, new obstacles were presented to accommodation, and new concessions required, until at last, the conquest of her colonies was ridiculously pronounced essential to our security, and to be obtained by intrigue or force, before we could accept a peace!

Those too who reason from the conduct of France, if they make no discrimination, will expect, that England will now "feel power and forget right." France, since she has been able to interfere with the peace of other nations, has had but one limit to her pretensions; one rule for the conditions she required-the

utmost she could extort.

But history, particularly the recent history of Great-Britain, represents her in a very different point of view. Her policy is subservient to avowed principles. To those principles she adheres uniformly in prosperity and adversity. It is true that, in adversity, she has some times made temporary concessions, of what she considered her rights, but with a reservation of the principle. In prosperity, we can recollect no instance, in which she has exceeded her standard doctrine, or claimed more than was justified by jurists of other countries, who have treated of publick law.

There are many considerations which induce us to disbelieve that Great Britain will now take advantage, with respect to us, of her recent good fortune, and require the sacrifice of our rights. Two, however, are prominent, which appear to us sufficient to obviate any

BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 14, 1814.

alarm-the nature of her government, and the manner in which she has met other nations, under not very dissimilar circumstances.

The British government is always divided into two parties; not two parties really attached to different political principles, but a party possessing, and a party desiring power. As opposition, there, is not considered morally or politically criminal, ambitious men maintain a constant struggle for office; and those who do not attain that consequence at which they aim, are perpetually the rigorous inquisitors of those who have been more successful. The opposition always embraces splendid talents, interested to render the ministry and their friends unpopular. They watch every slip they always profess the keenest sensibility to integrity of conduct-the nation is the sole umpire in the dispute, a majority of whom must approve of the measures of administration, or the ruling party cannot long maintain their ground. Now the mass of the people in every nation prefer peace to war. This is particularly true of the English; it is so true that the government have sometimes been obliged to make a peace, which they knew was not safe, because the people desired it. They are a brave nation; a British subject will encounter any thing for his country's rights, but he must be made to believe that his country's rights require war, or he will vote for peace. Among a people so disposed, the opposition have every advantage, if the ministry adopt a measure, calculated either to invite or protract a war with a foreign nation, which can be proved unjust. The opposition in England, whether from selfish motives or pure integrity is of no consequence, when England is at war, is always for peace; and prove the zealous and successful champions of all other nations' rights.

The manner in which Great-Britain has conducted towards hostile nations, who, like us, united with France to destroy her, is another reason why we believe an honourable peace practicable. She has stood alone with all Europe against her. The nations of the continent have successively become her friends. We do not find that the exasperation of a contest for existence provoked her to advance upon her general doctrines, in any accommodation. As her cause strengthened by the acquisition of new allies, we do not find in any instance the least symptom of an overbearing policy; no principle assumed, which she had not maintained in the worst of times. The first are with her as the last, and the last as the first.

It may be said, and with justice, that she must feel a spirit more vindictive towards the United States, than any other power of Europe, except France; for, while they have had some plea of necessity for their hostility, intimidated by the enormous power of France, we have wantonly, voluntarily, and malignantly joined her foes, when the tyrant of Europe had no means of compelling us, and when it was our true interest to have acted in concert with her arms. This is a fact, to the eternal shame of our profligate rulers, and if evil results from it, we shall have the more reason to execrate the folly and depravity of those who have exposed us to this danger. But

NO. XX.

from this, we trust, little need be apprehended. What greater satisfaction need they wish, than to see our swaggering war men reduced to the disgrace of giving up every principle, which they had made the factitious cause of dispute. They know that a large proportion of the American people have ever deprecated the war. They have shewn, that they are influenced by this knowledge, in the mode in which they have prosecuted the warfare against this country, to the bitter disappointof those who brought this calamity upon us.

Another ground of our confidence, whatever some may think of it, is our reliance on the respect which the British government feel to the dignity and splendour of their national character. She has long been the champion of the rights of other nations. She cannot consistently invade ours.

To conclude, we have another security. Any material encroachment upon our rights, would be a just cause of alarm to other nations. The power of Great-Britain is formidable; a disposition to abuse it, would make Europe see in her, with horrour, another France. she desires a good understanding with her continental friends, she will wish to avoid exciting their jealousy.

As

From these several reasons, we have no dread of a dishonourable peace, from the triumph of that glorious cause in which GreatBritain has been a distinguished actor. If none of our claims are voluntarily abandoned by our rulers, to gratify their own local prejudices, we may probably resume the exercise of those rights which we enjoyed before the war was declared.

MENE, MENE, TEKEL UPHARSIN,

DEMOCRACY WEIGHED, AND FOUND WANTING.

THE administration will soon be obliged to make peace, if it is not already effected. We say obliged, and we say it without regret or mortification, for we feel wholly free from any share of the disgrace which attaches to a set of men, whom we have honestly, uniformly, and zealously opposed, as enemies to the honour and happiness of our country. The war was their own work-the peace must be their's. Their's is the merit, such merit as it was, of the one, and to them belongs the disgrace now, of having to recede from their ground.

Surely the real friends of our republick will now have it in their power to silence effectually the partizans of our rulers, if such a class of men should still claim the confidence

of the people. The objection which presents itself is simple, and cannot be answered. If a democrat dares to ask me for my vote, or dares to ask for a vote in my hearing, I will. inquire, what benefit these rulers will shew, as a compensation for a publick debt now to be paid, of sixty millions of dollars? What advantage we have procured, by six or seven years of the most perplexing and ruinous commercial restrictions? What we have gained by the blood of some thousands of our citizens? What, by the loss of incalculable millions, in the losses which the country has sustained, by the ruin of its commerce—and

the habits into which other nations have been forced, by our policy, of supplying themselves without our aid? What is our recompense for being placed in a worse situation, than if it were now but the birth day of our nation ? for we have extended our malice to all the great powers of Europe, which successively have thrown off the French yoke-and must have rendered ourselves no less odious, by our evident wishes, than we have been contemptible by the impotence of our efforts to defeat their noble purposes.

We do not hesitate to anticipate these unanswerable interrogatories, because we are convinced, nothing will be gained; but that on the contrary, the status quo, will be the utmost, that can be expected, accounting too for nothing, the immense sacrifices which have been sustained.

You who have supported Mr. Madison, and his fruitless, destructive measures: you who have helped to hurry us into this dilemma, against both reason and policy; look me in the face, and tell me the country ought still to rely on such men !

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THE PRESIDENT'S MOTIVES AVOWED.

In the National Intelligencer is a long artiticle, entitled "Session of Congress," in which Mr. Madison's editor attempts to review the past session. When he comes to the Embargo, he says:

"We doubt not the President, in recommending its adoption, acted under the impulse of popular feeling, as well as from an honest and sincere conviction of its probable effect in arresting that intercourse with the enemy," &c.

| time the allies were reinforced by Gen. Bulow from Holland, Bernadotte's army, and other reinforcements, amounting, in the whole, as has been stated, to 170,000. Intimidated by this accumulating force, and anxious for Paris, Bonaparte began to recede. He was at Troyes however on the 29th of March. By forced marches, he arrived at Fontainbleau, on the morning of the 31st. There he learnt that the troops, left for the defence of Paris, had abandoned their position, and that the city had already been 24 hours in possession of his enemy. The corps of the Dukes of Treviso and Ragusa and General Compans were collecting between Essone and Paris. The Emperour took up his quarters at Essone. The Empress and the imperial court were at Tours. A bulletin has been received, published by the Emperour after he had heard of the fall of his capital. It states that the approaches of the enemy to it were contested by very severe fighting, but it does not give particulars. The Parisians made little resistance, and Blucher entered with only 40,000 troops, opposed only by 3,000 youths of the polytechnick school.

Such was the state of things in that quarter, on the 1st of April. All France was said to be in a state of confusion, and a large portion of the people sick of tyranny and the tyrant.

Success has likewise attended Lord Wellington in the south. He fought a severe battle, with Soult, and routed him, about the 6th of March. On the 12th, a detachment of 3000 English and Portuguese entered Bordeaux, without opposition. The city was immediately tranquil, and the inhabitants had displayed the white flag-mounted the white cockade, and appeared gratified with the change.

The Duke of Angouleme was at Bordeaux, and had issued a proclamation in the name of his uncle, Louis the XVIII., who invites them to evince their loyalty to the family of their former sovereigns, and announces that he had formed a treaty with the allies, as king of

Here's a motive for a chief magistrate of a great nation to act under ! "The impulse of popular feeling !" Instead of directing the publick feeling into the right path, when he perceived it was inclined to go wrong, he yields to it, and takes that for his guide, which the constitution has made it his duty to control. What better can be expected from a man who The town and fortress of Blaye, on the acts from such motives, than just such a way-Garonne, below Bordeaux, was reported to ward, wavering, inconsistent and pernicions course, as that which he has pursued?

N. Y. E. P.

GENERAL REGISTER. BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 14, 1814.

EUROPEAN. It will be difficult for any man, however strong his understanding, or vivid his imagination, very readily to realize the importance of the news received within the past week. Bonaparte, who, within a few years, has carried his arms and spread devastation from Africa to the ancient capital of the Russian empire, is now excluded from his own metropolis, which is in possession of the champions of human emancipation. The train of awful, but grateful reflection, which must naturally arise from such an extraordinary event, we leave to the deliberate reason of readers. The text is a glorious one-we shall give it in brief.

During the latter part of February and early part of March, the Emperor Bonaparte being at or near Troyes, General Blucher made a first, second, and third attempt, with his division, to intercept him from Paris, having advanced to Meaux, within about 12 leagues of that city. The Marshal and his troops fought with astonishing bravery and perseverance, but was compelled to withdraw. In the mean

France.

have surrendered, so that nothing remained to prevent the British shipping from ascending to Bordeaux. It was reported at Rochelle, that the city of Angouleme had declared for Louis the XVIII.; and Rochefort was soon expected

to surrender.

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DOMESTICK. THE official returns for Senators in this commonwealth have been examined. There are 27 federalists, and 13 democrats.

The United States' sloop of war Frolick, the beautiful ship launched at Charlestown a few months since, has been taken by the Orpheus frigate, and carried to Nassau, New Providence. The particulars of the capture have not arrived.

The Proclamation of Admiral Cochran, dated April 25th, is now published, declaring all the ports of the United States, from the Mississippi to New-Brunswick, in a state of rigorous blockade.

General Hull has addressed the publick, requesting a suspension of opinion, as to his conduct, until he can prepare a statement of facts. [Would not a full account of the trial, with all the evidence pro and con, be the best mode of appeal ?]

The U. S. corvette, Adams, Captain Morris, has arrived at Savannah.

A 74 and 3 large schooners lately ascended the Potomack about 40 miles above Point Look-Out, took possession of some islands, had some skirmishing in barges with the mili tia, and afterwards fell down again, with a frigate and a brig that had entered the mouth of the river, to Point Look-Out.

A large ship, belonging to the United States, was launched at Sackett's harbour, on the 1st instant

Our bay is alive with British cruisers; it is said they do not molest fishermen or coasters. Mr. John Randolph will be supported as a candidate for Congress, from the district in which he resides, in opposition to Mr. Eppes.

Information from the south, states, that the Creek nation of Indians has been nearly annihilated-the wretched remains having fled from the frontiers of Georgia and the Carolinas to the Floridas. Many of them were killed in their retreat.

REPORTS. That our army of the North is to be consolidated into 15 regiments, and above a thousand supernumerary officers to be discharged from service.

General Wilkinson has objected to his court of inquiry, on the ground that it is not composed of General Officers, and the court has cis

solved.

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AS I propose coming abroad in the world, in this character, I shall begin by giving some account of myself. I am an odd sort of a fellow, and have many whims; but my most obstinate propensity is a desire for writing. If there is really such a disease in the catalogue of human infirmities, as the cacoethes scriben

di, I certainly am afflicted with it to an incurable degree. If I were to say it was born LOCKE would be about my ears, and prove, by with me, all the disciples of the venerable dint of logick, that as there are no innate ideas,

there could be, in the mind of an infant, no predispositions. That the mind of a new-born child, if, by the way, they would allow him any mind at all, was a mere blank, with no more impression than a sheet of white paper-&c. As I am a peaceable man, and have no powers nor inclination for disputing, I shall pass these gentlemen, with lowly reverence, and give some account of myself from my birth, or, as my friend Tristram Shandy has done, a little before it, and let them settle the matter among themselves.

[Here" The Writer" gives an account of a singular presage of his future character, which occurred before his birth-and which, like the Delphick responses, was attended with so much obscurity as to puzzle the ingenuity of all interested, as to the most probable construction. He is however persuaded, himself, that it clearly intimated his celebrity as a Writer, and as the editor of the Boston Spectator does not dispute the justice of this interpretation, he takes the bberty to pass over this part of the introduction, as well as the first and earliest evidences of the evolution of "The Writer's" ruling passion. I shall resume the narrative with the author's childhood. EDITOR]

My character, now, began to develop; my whole pleasure was writing; at home, or at school, I had always a pen in my hand, and have frequently spoiled my breakfast, by daub

ing the ink over my bread and butter. As Idle course between the two great parties,
grew up, this inclination grew with me, and which now divide our country. I am particu-
there was no writing going on, in which I did larly inclined to this, as some of our great men
not endeavour to have a hand. I wrote seve- are prone to change, and therefore by a mag.
ral epitaphs for country church-yards, and have nanimous moderation I may continue in their
furnished the weather in an almanack for favour, although they should not continue their
above forty years. In this last species of wri- former opinions.
ting I have succeeded wonderfully-the best.
criticks having allowed that I have very judi-
ciously attended to the two great unities of
time and place, in the distribution of my snow-

NATURAL HISTORY.

companion of gratified vanity: But, so greatly are we deluded by imagination, and enslaved by passion, that the glittering toy of the moment has temptation too powerful to be resisted, and present gratifications engross all attention and destre.

It is true that poverty and dependence are allied to certain misery, and prudence can nev-. er be better exerted than in securing indepencontented, and consequently happy. But indedence; with which all declare they should be

storms; and that I know how to rise with the great resort of. the Puffin or Alca Arctica.pendence is an indefinite term; different per

THE ALCA ARCTICA. The high projecting rock of Lovunnen, in Norwegian Lapland, is a feathers. This silly bird is very easily caught. which is much sought for, on account of its

Von Buck's Travels.

March winds, and fall gently with the showers
of April. I can also predict the first appear
ance of blossoms in very flowery language. I
The fowler lets down the iron hook, or sends
have likewise written some political pieces
a dog, trained on purpose, into the narrow
with credit, and many of the patriotick effu- clefts or holes of the rock, where the puffins
sions of '75 were supplied from my pen; insòsit crowded together; and the first bird being
much that I have myself thought that the Rev. pulled out, the next one bites and lays hold of
olution was as much indebted to my labours, his tail; and thus in succession, until the whole
as to Tom Paine and Common Sense. But
family, clinging together like a chain, is drag-
this portion of my labours I consider as now
ged to light.
lost to the world, as I have forgotten the
names of the publications in which they ap-
peared (and presume every body has forgotten
them also), and have no hope they will ever
be brought before the publick again by a
second edition. The truth is, I am always
writing; and the town would be more fre-
quently amused and entertained with my ideas,
if the sapient editors of our newspapers were
not such critical judges of style, taste, and
belles-lettres, as to reject any communications
that are not offered by the right person.

INCREASE OF NAVAL POWER.
ABOUT three hundred years ago, Henry
VIII. built the largest ship that had then ever
been seen in England. She was called Henry,
Grace de Dieu; yet this prodigy was of only

a thousand tons.

been brought up in, the company with which sons conceive different notions of it, according to their education, the sphere of life they have they have associated, the habits they have tal want of rational information. The man of formed, their particular kind of reading, or tolarge hereditary possessions, who from his cra dle has been fondled in the soft lap of luxury, elegance and grandeur, whose nod has cómwhose eye has been accustomed to sights of manded obedience, and whose ample means have afforded the indulgence of every desire, will not easily be taught to think he can be independent in a lower sphere, and with a smaller revenue. The opulent merchant, whose successful ventures and persevering industry enables him to live in a style of almost equal splendour, who fares sumptuously every In the eighth year of king James I. (1611) day, decorates his dwelling with gaudy magthe citizens of London built a ship for the gov-nificence, and entertains with ostentatious hosernment, of twelve hundred tons, called "The pitality, has no idea of independence with less Traders' Increase." She was lost in the East than he possesses, and is seldom satisfied with Indies, and the king ordered another to be the longest continuance of prosperous specubuilt of fourteen hundred tons. She being aslation. The moderate tradesman, whose retail signed to Prince Henry, was by him named profits permit himself and family to enjoy the decent comforts of life, and to lay up something at the end of every year, is not satisfied till he can raise enough to load a vessel and risk his all, in hopes to rival the merchant in large gains and extensive credit, without which he cannot suppose himself independent. The humble mechanick, whose labour gives him health, and supplies the temperate calls of nature with wholesome food and needful clothing, envies the possessors of property the ease and convenience he was never indulged in, nor taught to expect; and thinks it hard he cannot live independent of manual exertion. Thus independence seems to elude the chace in which all eagerly join;

The Prince.

In 1701 the Royal Sovereign was launched. She mounted 110 guns, and measured two thousand tons.

Although I have this unconquerable disposition for wriI never run into those kind of literary vagates which we are told infected the wits of a former age. I never undertook to write verses in the form of a heart, altar, or true love knot, nor have I attempted with Puttenham, to erect a temple of words, whose columns should be worked off by syllables to proper proportions of the Corinthian order. My propensity leads me to write straight for23 ward, and expect immortality as an author, an author, more from the number and extent of my wriEtings than from the shape of them.

With this view of my character and disposition, I offer myself to the Spectator; and with the encouragement and approbation of the proprietor of this paper, shall undertake to furnish it with occasional essays under the title of "THE WRITER." If there should be any desire in the publick to know something more of the person and condition of the Writer, these may be more fully disclosed hereafter. In the mean time, for their immediate gratification, and particularly out of respect to the female part of my readers, I hereby make known that I am a man of the common size, airy gait, strong and healthy, and wear no whiskers. A bachelor, of a middle age-that is to say, verging towards threescore; somewhat addicted to bowing; very fond of female company, and although not married myself, a great advocate for and promoter of matrimony in others, and a very successful maker of matches: so that, should the young ladies of this metropolis engage me in their service, apply to me for advice, and conform, a little to some general rules which I may from time to time prescribe, I have no doubt of seeing by far the largest portion of them in the list of matrons before they are out of their teens.

I will also apprize my readers, that I am a great traveller, and am particularly acquain

ted with the female fashions of all countries, from the elegant nudity of the Paris belle to the modest Turkish lady, who suffers nothing but the tip end of her nose to go uncovered.

As to my political sentiments, I shall keep them to myself, and endeavour to steer a mid

In 1745 the whole British navy consisted of
7 men of war of 100 guns-13 of 90-16 of 80
of 70-19 of 60-47 of 50 (125 line of
battle :)-23 of 40-9 of 30-and 25 of 20.
In all, 182.

In 1813 Great-Britain had in commission, in
ordinary and repairing, 253 ships of the line
40 of 50, &c. guns-243 frigates-and 483
other vessels of war; in all 1019.

THE GRAND PURSUIT.

VIRGIL.

O fortunatos nimium sua si bona nôrint.
"WHO can shew us any good?" is the con-
stant language of discontent among all classes
of mortals. Ever repining at their lot, ever
envying their fellow creatures, ever indulging
anxious longing for the adventitious gifts of
fortune, yet neglecting the fairest opportuni-
ties that offer, and the most natural and cer-
tain means to procure substantial happiness.

"And like the circle, bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, but, as we follow, flies." How then are we to attain this chief ingredient in the cup of earthly felicity? We must seek

for it at home in our own bosoms; and, before we can expect the wholesome plant to thrive, we must labour carefully to root out the idle and baneful weeds, that check its growth, and exhaust the soil by which it should be nourished.

In the middle class, mankind are generally sought after, and so seldom found, is never more Happiness, so eagerly desired, so diligently more happy, because envy is not so predominant nor pride so overweening; on one hand, ardently pursued than by those who have not they find many in a station considerably above attempted to understand her character, nor in- them, but on the other, many far below; inquired for the paths that lead to her abode. stances might also be collected of persons being She is like the kind, but modest virgin, "that eminently happy in the highest, and even in would be woo'd, and not unsought be won;" the lowest, sphere of life. Hence it appears, nor will she dispense the sweetness of her that it is not on circumstances we are so desmiles on those who are insensible to the puri- pendent, as upon our passions, appetites, and ty and dignity of her nature, who are not sin-habits, which keep us in slavish and disgraceful cere and constant in their attentions, and who degrade themselves by idolatroas worship at the shrine of meretricious pleasure.

The authority of sacred writ, the precepts of philosophy, and the experience of ages, might convince us that happiness is not found in sen

sual indulgence, in frivolous dissipation, in

accumulated wealth, not successful ambition
nor is it always the attendant of beauty nor the

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subjection. The proud man, with all his bloated consequence and selfsufficiency, by demanding more, often receives less, respect than he might otherwise claim; and seldom finds much deference paid to his opinions, or subnecessities or interested views render them mission to his will, except from those, whose

dependent on his favour, and on whom he mutually depends for the food which supplies

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