<3' /by '- presented to THrv^ ,.■■"* f

THE

MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE .

OR,

MONTHLY MUSEUM

OF

KNOWLEDGE and rational ENTERTAINMENT.

No. VII.1

for JULY, 1794.

[Vol. VI.

CON

MISCELLANIES,

Defciiption of the Plate, 307

The Drunkard : An Anecdote, 388

The Man of Genius, 3%9

Anecdote, ibid.

Dr. Johnfon's Marriage, 39°

A fhort Account of the Town of Con- cord, illuftrative of the Plate, ibid. The Speculator, No. IV, 393 Alexis : Or, the Cottage in the Woods, 395 The Story of Sarah Phillips, concluded,399 The General Obi'erver, No. XLVI, 403 On the Conduct of a young Lady dur- ing Courtlhip, concluded, 405 Anecdote, 4°9 On the double Ufe of Interrogative

Points, 410

The Gleaner, No. XXVI, 411

Anecdote, 420

Glory, 421

The Sentimentalift, No. II, 42U

An Oration on Eloquence, 423

Claudine : A Swifs Tale, 420

The Repofitory, No. XXII, 433

The Memorialia, No. Ill, 434

Anecdote, 430

A I N I N G,

CABINET of APOLLO. A Poem, commemorative of Goffe,

Whaley, and Dixweli, concluded, 437 Comelah: A Fragment, 439

Independence: An Ode, 440

Lines from the French of M. de Fen-

elon, ibid.

Friendship : An Ode, ibid.

Lines written by a Parent to his Son, 44X Lines by Anna, ibid.

Poem on Freih Pond, in Cambridge, ibid. Lines, occafioned by a Mifs' {heading

Tears on the Commiffion of a Fault, 443,

Verfes to the Wind, ibid.

Ode for Independence, • ibid.

Acroftic, 444

Lines written over a Sun Dial, ibid.

To the Viibge of Fancy, ibid.

Song, ibid.

I Epitaphs, ibid.

MONTHLY GAZETTE.

Summary of Foreign Intelligence, 445

Domefhc Occurrences, 446

Marriages, 44®

Deaths, ibid-

WITH TWO HANDSOME ENGRAVINGS.

PRINTED at BOSTON, for the PROPRIETORS, By EZRA W. WELD and WILLIAM GREENOUGH,

No. 49, State Street. Sold at JOHN WEST's Bookilore, No, 75, Cornhill, Boston ; and by the feverat Gentlemen who receive Subfcripticns for this Wokk. S* MBCCZCIV.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS to CORRESPONDENTS.

We tender our thanks to our Harvard friends for their communications, particu- larly the author of the elegant Oration. Similar favours are requefted from Yale and Dartmouth Univerhties.

The Memorialift is refpectfully thanked for his offer. We gratefully accept it.

Anti-NecefTarian. — We meddle not with polemic divinity.

View of Parnafius. We recommend to the author the waters of Lethe.

Clariffa no Prude — the writer no wit.

The Inveftigator, No. I, is received ; a page fhall be referved for it next month.

/

PRICES of PUBLIC SECUPJTIES, BANK STOCK, &c.

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18 6	10 4	II 4	14 3	14		6	16 6	15 6	9 °	8 0
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18 9 IoIO	10 8	11 8	14 6	16		6	16 6	i5 6	9 0	8 0
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18 IO	10 9	11 9	14 9	17		6	166	156	9 0	8 0

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40 49

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49

JOHN MARSTON, Stoci Broia

THE

MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

for j u l r, 1794.

for the MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

DESCRIPTION of the PLATE.

SUMMER.

THE Plate is an emblematical reprefentation of Summer.

The contemplative mind ; — the mind, whofe faculties are engaged in the fublime employment of tra- cing the exiftence of a Deity thro' the mazy fabric of creation, can dwell upon no theme more calcula- ted for its purpofe, than the regular and harmonious fucceftion of the feafons.-^-The vernal charms of re- cufcitated nature ; — her vigorous vegetation in fnmmer ; — her boun- teous flow of bleftngs in autumn^ and her fublime horrors when ice- crowned winter, " clofes the fcene," are objects, which muft equally ex- cite the wonder, the praife, and the gratitude of man. The gradual fuccefilon of the feafons, is moft ad- mirably analogous to the natural gradations which divide and diver- fify the variegated checkerment of human life. — Infancy is the fpring \. youth, the fuirimer ; maturity, the autumn ; and old age, the winter, cf rrfan's fublunary exiftence.

Morality here fti'ds a. fubjccl,..

upon which Ihe dwells with melan- choly fondnefs. The immutable laws of our nature, demand our willing fubmifiion. To die, is the- lot of all below. Mutation is the deftiny of matter. There is a drea- ry winter, which snds the year ; — there is a relentlefs death, that heaps, the mould of the grave upon "hu- man prefumption."

The feafon of Summer, is calcu- lated to infpire us with the moiy, pleafmg and the moft awful fenfa- tions. — Hark ! — In the dittantweft, the muttering thunder proclaims, the approach of creation's God ! — advancing in gloomy majelly, the. fable cloud lowers under the cano- py of the fey ! winged with energy reliftlefs, acrofs the fable welkin darts the vivid lightning — hoarie craihing, peal on peal redoubling ;: —the artilleries of heaven ihake our fyftem to its centre ; — in migh- ty torrents down rufft the burning. clouds ! — all is terror, doubt, fui- penfe and confufion.

How changed the ftrene ! — The ch 1

M

MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

cloud has paffed over. Far in the eatt, a fire electric fiaihes, and the dying founds of exhaufted thun- ders, remind us of & t danger that is paft. Exulting . -.oebus breaks from the clouds whicn had ihroud- ed his fplendor, and pours upon a rejoicing world the effulgence of day. — From the fields, the mead- ows, the mountains, and the dales, ariie fragrant fcents and wholefome perfumes. Now, through the glit- tering foliage of the trees, fports the zephyr of fummer, fcattering from his downy pinions, the odours offpring. Ail nature rejoices. The onions of devotion rife to the throne of God, borne amid the in- cenfe of gratitude. — .The mind, ex- panded and ennobled by the freih and repeated inftances of divine " and preserving love," acknow- ledges the power of that Deity, who can deftroy the univerfe with his omnipotent fiat, and adores that

l goodnefs, which deigns to protect his creature, man* when the ele- ments are mingled in confufion and in war.

But why do I enlarge on the

j fubject ? — Let the moralizing, the infpired Thomfon, explain the an-

I nexed plate, and charm with the dignity of reafon, and the melody

i of long.

«ALL-CONOTJ'R7NGHeat,oh inter- mit thy wrath ! And on my throbbing temples potent thus Eeam not fo fierce! Inceflaut full you flow, And ftill another fervent flood fucceeds, Pour'ct on the head profufe. In vain I figh,

And reftlefs turn, and look around for Night ;

Night is far off; and potter hours ap- proach.

" "Welcome, ye fhades ! ye bow'ry thick- ets, hail ! Ye lofty pines ! Ye venerable oaks ! Ye allies wild, rei'oundmg o'er the fteep \ Delicious is your fhelter to the foul, As to the hunted hart the fal lying fpring, Or ftream full flowing, that his fwelling

fides Laves, as he floats along theherbag'd brink. Cool, thro' the nerves, your pleating com- fort glides ; The heart beats glad ; the frefh expanded

eye And ear refume their watch ; the finewi

knit ; And life fhoots fwift thro' all thelighten'd

limbs. " Around th' adjoining brook, thatpurk

along The vocal grove, now fretting o'er a rock, Now fcarcely moving through a reedy

pool, Nor/ ftarting to a fudden ftream, and now Gently diffus'd into a limpid plain. A various group the herds and flocks

compofe, Rural confufion ! On the grafly bank Some ruminating lie ; while others ftand Half in the flood, and often bending, fip. The circling furface. In the middle droops The ftrong laborious ox, of honeft front, Which incompos'd he {hakes ; and from

hisiirks The troublous infects lathes with his tail. Returning ftill. Amid his fubjects iafe, Slumbers the monarch fwain, his carelefi

arm Thrown round his head, on downy mofa

fuflain'd : Here laid his fcrip, with wholefome viands

fiii'd ; There, lifl'mng ev'ry noife, his watchful

The DRUNKARD: AnANECDODE.

A DEVOTEE to the fhrine of the Semelian deity returning home, late at night, after a high campaign, took his rout through a Wood. He had fcarcely entered it

when he law an object, which, as he fancied, had the appearance of a man. As he approached it he was better fatished. Impudence and audacity, the concomitants of inebriation,

for JULY, 1794*

38*

;nebriation, were by no means qui- efcent in our bacchanalian. The fenfe of his own fuperiority to a fel- low worm was fuch as totally fu- perfeded the propriety, much more the expediency, of his going out of the path for the other. He paufed, and demanded the road. His words were difregarded. He re- peated them under the commina- tion of a blow. Sill the object of his infult ftood firm in the middle of the path, and did not deign to anfwer a word. Get out of the way in a moment, faid the baccha- nalian, or I will ftrike you to the ground. Immediately, going a lit- tle nearer for that purpofe, the man, regardlefs of his threats, feized him about the waift, and held him lock- ed faft in his arms. The baccha- nalian was at length obliged to beg for freedom ; but his begging was in vain. He then fwore that, if

the fellow did riot let him go di- re&ly, he would ftab him. Ac- cordingly, he took a knife from his pocket and plunged it into his vi- tals ! Then, being liberated from the dire gripe of his antagonift, went his way.

Before the clofe of the next day, reafon had aflumed her empire, and the rafh man was fmitten with fuch remorfe of confcience, as ex- torted a voluntary confeffion of the horrid crime he had perpetrated in the hour of intoxication ! The vil- lage was alarmed ! A number was forthwith difpatched to take care of the vrurdered, while the humble and felf con vi died murderer was conduct- ed to prifon.

The aftoniihment and joy can be conceived better than defcribed, when, inftead of a murdered man, a huge niurdered hear was found fprawled on the fpot I Q.

■^sxs^s^ss^-

For the MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

The MAN of GENIUS.

A MAN, endued with great natural and acquired abili- ties, who conftantly purfues the courfe, which reafon, aided by rev- elation, has marked out, is a blef- fihg of ineftimable worth to his friends, his country, and the world. Like fome vaft river, which pours along its wonted channel with un- remitting regularity, he difFufes

life and happinefs to all around. A man, however, who devotes his fuperior talents to fordid carnality and vice, is a monfter more terri- ble than hydras, gorgons, and har- pies. Like a mighty torrent, which has burft its mound, he fpreads terror and devaftation far and wide.

MODENA. ...

ANECDOTE.

MR. * was not remarkable for his punctual attendance on public worfhip. A friend once a&ed him why he was fo frequently culpable in that refpect ? His re-

ply we think a little fingular. He faid that neighbour fuch a one, who fat 7iear his pew, fnored fo intolerably that he gould not Jleep !

« **■

Dr.

390 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

Dr. JOHNSON

DR. JOHNSON gave the fol- lowing curious account of his journey to church on the nup- tial morn. The church at which we chofe the ceremony ftiould be performed lay in a diftant parim, and we fet out on horfe back. It nvas a love match on both fides, but the bride had read the old romances and had got into her head the fan- tastical notion that a woman offpi- rit mould ufe her lover like a dog. So, Sir, at firft (he told me that I rode too faft, and fhe could not

s MARRIAGE.

keep up with me ; and when I rode a little flower, flie parted me, and complained that I lagged behind. I was not to be made the Have of ca- price ; and I refolved to begin as I could end. I therefore pulhed on brifkly till I was fairly out of her fight. The road lay between two hedges, fo I was fure me could not mifs it ; and I contrived that (he fhould foon come up with me. When fhe did, I obferved her to be in tears.

For the MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

A Short ACCOUNT of the TOWN of CONCORD,

illuftrative of the annexed Plate.

THE names of places, and of the various divifions of our globe, gain celebrity, as often from being theatres of great actions and brilliant exploits, as from the extent of their territory, their population or their wealth. The birth of a bard, of a hero, of a philofopher ; contingencies the moil accidental, and events the mod unexpected, Shave (lamped immortality upon the local defignations of hamlets and villages, which mud, otherwife, have been configned to perpetual obfeurity, and lofl in the lapfe of ages. The valour of Leonidas has tranfmitted Thermopylae flraits with brilliant honour to an admir- ing poflerity. While we admnMglie hero, we are led to venera^TOie ground upon which he reaped his laurels. The diminutive town of UTICA is confecrated to eternal memory, on the fame hifloric page, which records the grandeur of IM- PERIAL ROME. The one was miftrefs of a fubjugated world ; the other was dignified by the fenate of CATO : of that CATO

whom Casfar could not conquer.

Previous to our attempt of a defcription of the'town of Concord, we mud acknowledge our being indebted to Mr. William Jones, at prefent a fludent at law in that place, for all the particulars of the following account. As we had not room to infert his topographical defcription of Concord, which was prefented by him to the Hijhr'tcaf Society, entire, we have taken liber- ty to avail ourielves of his ingeni- ous performance for the acquifition of fails conducive to the completion of our defign, and in fome places have ufedhis ftyle and expreffions, verbatim.

CONCORD, in the Common- wealth of Maflachufetts, is fituated in the County of Middlefex, and is about 19 miles from themetropolis of the State. Its foil, confiding of rocky, fandy, and moiilland, is happily calculated for the various kinds of agricultural improvement. Grain, hay, rye, and Indian corn, are raifed mfuch abundance, as i=> fufftcient, not only for the inhabit- ants.,

■I

for JULY, 1794.

39*

ants, but a valuable part of their produce is fent to market.

There are no hills of any confe- quence, except one, at the north- weft part of the town. A fine riv- er, and three ponds, adorn and fer- tilize that pleafant village. Thefe ponds and the river, afford plenty of fifli, fupplying the inhabitants, efpecially the poorer clafs of them, with many a wholefome and deli- cious repaft.

The public edifices in Concord, are the meeting houfe, the court houfe, and the prifon. The fir ft is pleafantly fituated on the eaft fide of the mill pond, and is an elegant building, worthy of the defign for which it was erected, and of the excellent clergyman, who in it difpenfes the word of God. A new court houfe is now erecting upon an eminence, which will form a convenient and elegant tem- ple for the adminiftration of juflace. A defire to ornament their town, and to add to the welfare of the State, diftinguifhes the enterprizing inhabitants of this place. Happy in the pofTeflion of a fertile glebe, and of the means to increafe their property by induftry, their patriotic wifhes are with facility carried into effect and execution. The county of Middlefex, demands our applaufe for the expenfe which it has been at, in erecting the prifon in Concord, and which is the beft in the Commonwealth. The ftyle of architecture in which it is built is the Tufcan* The apartments of it are numerous, neat, and con- venient. A fine ftream of water runs under it, by which it is cleanf- ed ; conducing much to the health and comfort of its haplefs tenants. The philanthropic Howard would have viewed this unwiihed for and unwelcome retreat of the unfortu- nate and the vicious ; this manfion, erected by fad necejpiy% and peopled

by juftice, with a mixture of joy and approbation. The lot of mife- ry is here alleviated as much as the nature of the cafe can poffibly ad- mit ; and the chains of the crimi- nal, are deprived of half their irk- fomenefs by the mild influence of pitying humanity.

The roads from the upper part of Middlefex to Bofton, lead thro* Concord, and are kept in good re- pair. At a fmall diftance from the centre of the towta, a very hand- fome bridge has been lately com- pleted, at the expenfe of a few fpirit- ed and patriotic individuals for the fervice of the public. Not many- roods below this brido-e, (lands the famous NORTH BRIDGE, where the Americans firft engaged the Britilh troops, feveral of whom lie buried upon the banks of the river. It was at this place that Britilh. infolence received a moft vigorous chaftifement from a fmall party of the Maffachufetts yeomanry. This event (hall adorn one of the moft interefting pages of our country's hiftory, as it has given birth to a brilliant era in the annals of time.

Moft of the inhabitants of Con- cord are farmers ; however, near its centre, there are a number of profeiiional men and traders, who tranfact bufinefs to confiderable ad- vantage. There is a library, confid- ing of well chofen books in the vari- ous branches of literature, belonging to a company, and purchafed by fubfeription. The town, upon tke whole, is in a profperous fituation ; the people are induftrious, enter- priiing, patriotic, and hofpitable.

CONCORD was incorporated September 3, 1635, and was the firft fettlement at fo great a diftance from the fea fliore in New- England. The inhabitants never had any con- tefts with the Indians. This qui- etnefs of the aborigines is imputed w to the full fatisfaction they receiv- ed

392 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

ed at the time of purchafe. The General Court lias frequently fet in this town, and enacted laws condu- cive to the fafety and to the happi- nefs of our Commonwealth. The Provincial Congrefs was held at Con- cord in 1774. Of late years three fifths of the courts cf juflice in the county have met in this flouriih- ing place, alternately dividing the county bufmefs between Concord and Cambridge.

We know not how to conclude this account better, than by ex- tracting from the aforementioned performance of Mr. Jones, the fol- lowing interefling fentences.

" A large quantity of provifions and military ftores being depofited here, induced General Gage, who commanded the Britifn troops aj: Boflon, on the memorable 19th of April, 1775, to fend a detachment to deftroy them. Who, after they had thrown a confiderable quantity of flour and ammunition into the mill pond, knocked of the trun- nions and burnt the carnages of feveral field pieces, and committed other outrages, were oppofed at the North Bridge by the militia of this and the neighbouring towns ; and after a fhort engagement, in which feveral on both fides were flain, they were forced to retreat with great precipitation.

" While the troops were in town, they fired the court houfe, in the garret 9f which there was a great quantity of powder. This fire, by the interceffion of one Mrs. Moul- ton, a woman of above eighty years of age, the troops extinguifhed ; otherwife, the houfes adjoining, would have been deflroyed by the explofion of the powder. Indeed, in every part of the conduct of the inhabitants, there appeared to be a furprifmg prefence of mind, which protected them from the infults of

the foldiery, and, in a great meaf- ure, defeated the defign of the ex- pedition. A tavern keeper, whofe houfe they came to plunder, de- clared in a fpirited manner, that they fhould not take the leafl ar- ticle without paying for it. A gen- tleman who is now in town, and had at that time the fuperintendence of a confiderable quantity of the public ftores, preferved the fame by an innocent evafion, which few in his fituation would have dared to attempt. When the troops came to his door, he appeared to be very complaifant, invited them in, told them he was glad to fee them, afked them to fit and eat fome bread and cheefe and drink fome cider, which they did. After this, they went out of doors, and were about to break open his corn houfe. He called them to flop, and not to trouble themfelves to fplit the door ; if they would wait a minute, he would fetch the keys and open it himfelf, which he did. There be- ing a large quantity of flour in the corn houfe, belonging to the pub- lic, he fays, " Gentlemen, I. am a miller, I improve thofe mills yon- der, by which I get my living, and every gill of this flour," at the fame time putting his hand upon a bag of flour, that was really his own, " I raifed and manufactured on my own farm, and it is all my own ; this is my flore houfe ; I keep my flour here, until fuch time as 1 can make a market for it." Upon this, the commanding officer fays, " Well, I believe you are a pretty honefl old chap ; you don't look as if you could do any body much hurt, and we won't meddle with you." Then he ordered his men to march. By this, and fever- al other fuch in fiances of policy and refolution, but few of the public {lores were deflroyed."

The

for JULY) 17941

m

The SPECULATOR. No. IV.

There would he dream of graves, and corfes pale 5 And ghofts, that to the charnel dungeon throng, And drag a length of clanking chain, and wail, Till filenc'd by the owl's terrific fong, Or blaft that fhrieks by fits the fhuddering ifles along.

Beattie.

F the various kinds of fuper- ftition which have in any age influenced the human mind, none appear to have operated with fo much effect as what has been termed the Gothic. Even in the prefent polifhed period of fociety, there are thoufands who are yet alive to all the horrors of witchcraft, to all the folemn and terrible graces of the appalling fpectre. The moft en- lightened mind, the mind free from all taint of fuperftition involuntari- ly acknowledges the power of Goth- ic agency ; and the late favourable reception which two or three pub- lications in this ftyle have met with, is a convincing proof of the affer- tion. The enchanted foreft of Taflb, the fpectre of Camoens, and the ap- paritions of Shakfpeare, are to this day highly pleafmg, ftriking, and fublime features in thefe delightful compofitwns.

And although this kind of fuper- ftition be able to arreft every fac rl- ty of the human mind, and to ihake as it were, all nature with horror, yet does it alfo delight in the moft fportive and elegant imagery. The traditionary tales of elves and fairies ftill convey to a warm im- agination art inexhattfted fource of invention, fupplyingall thofe wild, romantic, and varied ideas with .which a wayward fancy loves to {port. The Provencal bards, and the neglected Chiucer and Spencer, are the originals from whence this exquifite my thology has been drawn, improved, and applied with fo much

Vol. VL £

inventive elegance by Shakfpeare. The flower and the leaf of Chaucer is replete with the mod luxuriant defcription of thefe preternatural beings.

Next to the Gothic in point of .fublimity and imagination comes the Celtic, which, if the fuperftition of the Lowlands be efteemed a part of it, may, with equal propriety be divided into the terrible and the fportive ; the former, as difplayed in the poems of Offian \ the latter, in the fongs and ballads of the Low Country. Offian has opened a new field for invention, he has coloured a fet of beings unknown to Gothic fiction ; his ghofts are not the ghofts of Shakfpeare, yet are they equally folemn and ftriking. The abrupt and rapid fervor of imagination, the vived touches of enthufiafm, mark his compofition, and his fpectres rufti upon the eye with all the ftupendous vigour o£ wild and momentary creation. So deep and uniform a melancholy* pervades the poetry of this author, that, whether from natural difpofi- tion, or the prellure of misfortune, from the face of the country which he inhabited, or the infulated ftate of fociety, he feems ever to have avoided imagery of a light and airy- kind ; otherwife, from the origin- ality of his genius, much in this way might have been expected. As to the fuperftition of the Lowlands, it differs fo little from the lighter Gothic, that I know not whether I am warranted in drawing any dis- tinction

394 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

tinction between them. It is not, however, peculiar to this diftricl of Scotland, the Highlanders in many parts, efpecially m their beautiful little vales, being (till enthciiaitic in their belief of it.

Thefe are then the two fpecies of fuperitition which feem moil capa- ble of invigorating the powers of imagination ; how feeble, cold, and iniipid are the mythological fables of the claffic bard, compared to the bold and daring flclions of the Goth- ic Mufe.

It has been, however, too much the falhion among critical writers, to condemn the introduction of this 3dnd of imagery, as puerile arid ab- furd ; but, whilft it is thus formed to influence mankind, to furprize, elevate, and delight, with a willing admiration, every faculty of the human mind, how (hall criticifm with impunity dare to expunge it ? Genius has ever had a predilection for it, and it has ever been the fav- ourite fuperftition of the poets. I may venture, I think, to predict, that if at any time this fpecies of fabling be totally laid afide, our na- tional poetry will degenerate into mere morality, criticifm, and fatire ; and that the fublime, the terrible, and the fanciful in poetry, will no longer exift. The recent publica- tion of Mr. Hole's Arthur, or the Korthern Enchantment, will again call the attention of the public to thefe fertile fources of invention ; for it is

In fcenes like thefe, which daring to de- part From fober truth, are ftill to nature true, And call forth frefh delight to Fancy's view, Th' heroic mufe employ'd her Taffo's art ! How have I fat, when pip'd the peniive windj

To hear his harp, by Britifh Fairfa2 ftrung, Prevailing poet, whofe undoubting mind Believ'd the magic wonders which he fuiig ; Hence at each found imagination glows ; Hence his warm lay with foftefi fweetnefs

flows ; Melting, it flows, pure, num'rous, ftrong

and clear, Arid fills th" impaffion'd heart, and wins th' harmonious ear.

Collins.

The poet from whofe works the above quotation has been taken, poifefTed all that fervor of enthufT- afm, all that warmth of imagina- tion charadteriftic of true genius ; and although ignorance and bad tafte have not unfrequently chuTed him with a Tickell andaHammond* yet with the difcerning few will he ever hold an exalted rank in the regions of pathos and invention.

By fairy hands his knell is rung ; . By forms unfeen his dirge is fang : Oft" Fancy" comes" at twilight" gray, To blefs the tuif that wraps his clay } And " Pity" fhall a while repair To dwell a weeping " Votrefe" there.

But to return to our fubjecl.^- Although fo great a diiparity evi- dently obtains between the two fpe- cies of Gothic fuperftiticn, the ter- rible and the fportive j yet no au- thor, that 1 am acquainted with* has availed himfelf $f this cir- cumftance, and thrown them into immediate contraft. In a frag- ment lately publiilied by Mrs. Bar- bauld, under the titl* of Sir Bert- rand, the tranfition k immediately from the deep Gothic to the Ara- bic or Saracenic fu perdition ; whicfe, although calculated to furprize, would have givjn more pleafure, and would have rendered the pre- ceding fcenes of horror more ftrik- ing, had it been of a light and con- trailed

for. J U L Y, 1794,

39S

drafted kind. Struck, therefore, with the propriety of the attempt, and the exquifite beauty that would probably refult from fuch an oppo- frtion of imagery, I have determin- ed to devote a few Papers to this deiign, and to give exemplifications

in an Ode and Tale ; and, as I have often abferved this kind of fuperftition to take great hold of the reader's ^curiofity, I doubt not they will meet with a favourable reception,

N.

ALEXIS : Or, The Cottage in the Woods,

[fPvOM THE FRENCH.]

( Continued from PART SECOND. Alexis paffes a twelvemonth in the Cot- tage.— He is forced to leave it.

CHAPTER I,

A NIGHT SCENE IN THE COTTAGE.

THE narrative of our hero's misfortune operated, in a fmgular manner, upon Candor, Germain, and Clara. Candor, a- bove all, could not be tired on Rooking at him for the whole time the fupper lafted. He had plac- ed Alexis next to him, and from time to time would exclaim, li What, my fon ! — So young, and fuch a knowledge of mankind !-— How, you know them well !■ — Your philofophy,your courage, all in thee intereft me to a point !— O my Alexis^ I depend upon your fteadinefs with the mod confolatory expectations. — I will difciofe them fome day, you mall help me. But flay, I will try you ftill for a twelvemonth. Be my fon, you have no father ; let me fuppiy his place ! Alexis, promile me as much fubmitfion and docility, as you would have for a father !" — • "Yes, father, I promife every thing* "Upon your honour ?u" Heaven be my wttnefs." — " Give me thy hand*, and remember one day, the facred engagement you have entered into with Candor.'* — " Your favours ^'ill never make me forget it.'- — ■" I

the 368M page.)

%vas happy and powerful in the world, my clofeft bofom friends have thrown me into the abyfs of ills ; Germain, alone, ftood by met Germain, my good and honed: friend, love him as I do ! what a treafure is a trufty, faithful fervantl' Behold Clara ; my only daughter, my every thing — be her tutor I teach her all the fciences, all the ac- complifhments you are matter of : May (he profit by your lefTons, and above all, may ihe take your fage advice, that prudence, that miftruft in mankind, qualities fo requifite for a being defined to live, fome day, in the bofom of fo- ciety. For I am old and hoary my good children, I cannot always be with you, and when I am once gone, perhaps you may have the moll; ardent defire of living in towns, of launching into the whirl- pool.'"'— "Ah ! never," never, an- iwered Alexis and Clara in con- junction with each other.'*'

Alexis was tranfported .with joyr Clara fqueezed his hand, embraced her father and Germain, and enT raptured with the happy proipecl that glowed in her beauteous eyes. fhe could not conceal her fatisfac- lion.

They loon rofe from their frugal: repair., and Candor would have. Alexis to take an exact view of the Ijcrrriita^e,

396 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

hermitage, and in' which the old' man thought he would remain for life.

Clara laid hold immediately of the youth's arm, Candor fupported himfelf upon Germain's fhoulder, and all four went to vifit the fever- al parts of this retreat. Let us fol- low their traces, and get acquainted with an abode where we fhall, for fomi time dwell with them.

They tuft entered a yard, ninety feet in fquare, its centre is occupied by the cottage. The lateral extent of the edifice is thirty, and the height fifty feet.

They afcend four fteps, enter a fmall veftibule ; where Alexis per- ceives at the bottom of the flairs, two doors, the one on the right and the other on the left. The firft con- duds to the kitchen, and the fec- ond to a hall fifteen feet high, furnifhed with a chimney, a table, chairs, and a considerable library.

He leaves the hall, and goes up fome winding flairs to the firft floor; on this fide is Candor's bed cham- ber. A bed, a large cheft of draw- ers, two portraits, half a dozen of fowling pieces, and fome chairs are the only furniture he fees in it.

Clara's chamber is not better de- corated, excepting a fine harpficord which takes up the greateft part of the room.

In the fecond ftory he enters two little rooms, without a chimney, but very fnug and decent.

Above them is a large garret, which fupplies the place of a hay- loft, and granary.

Every ceiling is vaulted, and built offtone: Every window of the apartments is grated with iron bars, and does not exceed fix feet in height. Below ftairs is a door leading to a cellar, to which nobo- dy but Candor and Germain, had accefs. This cave or cellar, con-

tains neither wine nor liquors, (our hermits had long fince left oif to make ufe of them) there is noth- ing pent in it but — This is a myf- tery we fhall certainly difcover hereafter, but now, it rauft remain concealed. Let us therefore follow our hero to the garden.

It is an inclofure of about one a- ere and a half, the third part plant- ed with peas, beans, potatoes, cats, &c. &c. and the remainder a mea- dow yielding hay for the horfe. There were alfo feveral fruit trees, and at the garden's end, a very lofty poplar, which appeared to have been left fince the ground was firft cleared to build the cottage and its premifes. At the foot of the poplar, a limpid rivulet fpring- ing from a remote part of the woods, ftreams ovei a layer of peb- bles, and eafes itfelf in a frightful precipice, at the diftance of two leagues from the cottage.

This rivulet, crojETmg the little garden, is hemmed in its career by a dike of fhell work, which it fur* mounts, and forms a cafcade, whofe waters fall into a bafon near the meadow, hewn, as it were, by the hand of nature, in the heart of a rock.

A little bridge leading to a grove, the work of Candor, invites the philofopher to tafte the fweets of the evening, and reft from the toils of day ; The whole of this ru- ral and tranquil refidence breathes calm thought and folitude.

Alexis, furveying with admira- tion thofe wonders of art and na- ture, lifted up his hand to heaven, to return thanks to the fublime Au- thor, for having brought him to this delightful abode, where he can at leaft enjoy repofe in the arms of the only beings, in whofe hearts he had found generofity, fympathy, and virtue.

Clara,

?or JULY, 1794.

S97

Clara, who was leading him be- fore her father, eager to (hew him all the beauties of her garden, did not fail to expatiate upon its charms. " Do you fee," faid fhe, " yonder, that field ? I alone have cultivated it ; but now, as you are my part- ner, my labour will be changed into mere pleafure : It is in this rivulet we will quench our thirft ; you will offer me this limped water, and I will receive it at your hands : Here you will fmile ; there, we (hall feek ftielter from the heat of the day : I will prefs one of thofe fruits upon your burning lips, and its nectar will refreih your blood. Oh ! how often fhall we at the decline of day, go to take reft in this grove. It is there, unknown to all the world, far from the buftling and noife of cities, we ihall blefs and endear our being. The fun goes down, the moon plays, here and there, her filver beams through the foliage of the thicket. The bofom of the earth opens and exhales a thou- sand perfumes. We fit by one a- nother ; the gentle purling of this rivulet, which glides beneath our feet, throws us into the fweets of thought ; you prefs my hand to your" heart, it beats, we give up all thinking ; yet we gaze, and enjoy ! O Alexis, Alexis, believe thy Clara, it is here thou wilt find happinefs."

In vain Alexis endeavoured to reply, his feelings would not fuffer him to exprefs his thoughts ; he contented himfelf with fqueezing Clara's hand, and beholding her with that expreflion of fentiment which is more obvious to the pencil than to the eloquence. " Oh, yes" faid he, with a low voice, " yes, I am already as happy as mortal can be."

Candor and Germain who came foon after, found the young couple in that extacy of delight. Ger-

main {hook his head, Candor (VniW ed, and his children were put to the blufh.

By this time the night began to lower upon nature. The birds, perched in the wood, waited filent- ly the retreat of the fun, to fufpend their warbling, and to reft upon the hofpitable branch. The nightingale alone enchanted the woods with her fweet melodies, and the mope- ing owls, in deference to her, fore- bore their funeral howlings. All invited our anchorets to return to the cottage, to enjoy a repofe, claimed by the emotions which they felt that day, and the fatigue the preceding night.

They had no convenience to fub- ftitute artificial light to that of day ; thefunlhut their eyes, and Aurora reopened them. Thus they retire- ed to their refpective apartments, not to meet till day-break.

Alexis having received the ten- der embrace of the three hofts went up ftairs to his room fituated on the fecond floor ; he was determin- ed to reject the parots of fleep, to reflect freely upon his prefent fitua- tion, and upon what conduct he mould obferve towards his new friends, fo as to convince them of his gratitude and tendernefs.

He had already forgot his mifan- throphy and miftruft, when a very particular event revived them, bolt- ed in his mind, and perplexed his fenfes.

He had hardly commenced his meditations, than he heard a noife at the door : He liftens, hears the rattling of keys, one is put into the lock of his door, he afks who is there ? no anfwer, in a moment the door is locked, and the goaler dis- appears ! What means this unex- pected precaution ? why will they fhut him up ? what do they want of him .? O heaven! ihoulditbe treach- ery >

'598 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

«ry ? the houfe where he was re- ceived with open arms, fhould it be a den of ruffians ? what, Candor, Germain, Clara, Clara! it is im- poflible. Perfidioufnefs cannot con- ceal itfelf ib well under the veil of virtue : A look, a gefture, the leafl motions detect it. They are not traitors, but why is he locked up ? They have not apprifed him of this detention ; nor even did his goal- er give him an anfwer. Ah ! they furely will undo him ; he has been too confident, to indifcreet: He fhould not have expofed him- felf : In a word, people that inhab- it a fortified retreat, in a forefl, no- torious for its robbers and banditti- All becomes fufpicion to him ; he recollects the converfation of the day, an expreffion of Candor's chills him with terror: C my Alexis ! I depend upon your Jreadinefs with the mojl confolatory expeclation. I will difclofe them fame day ; you Jb all help me. Great God ! will they con- ftrain a virtuous and well principled youth to become a robber 4 after all, what do they mean by this ? fhould not the cellar, which they would not let him fee, conceal the murdered victims and their fpoil ? Surely this difcourfe, and myflerious cellar con- ceal crimes. Alexis doubts no long- er ; his head becomes light, his imagination works, ghaftly fpeftres appear to him, horrid phantoms, from all fides crofs his chamber, his hair ftands at an end, his tongue becomes heavy, he remains motion- lefs, and refolves upon fome violent ineafure.

The window of his room was on the garden fide, he runs to it, he will elope from the fatal houfe where the moft dreadful omens trouble his reafon. But an unfore- feen obftacle is in his way, and fanctions his fufpicions by certain- ty. Large iron bars oppofe his de-

fign : It is all over, he is imprifoiw ed, betrayed, undone.

As the timid bird who falls into the net, and is afterwards put in a cage, beats the hoilile wire with its wings, and paffing his bill acrofs, pants for the tree, which he per- ceives, and on which he was perch- ed a little before ; thus our hero applies his mouth to the fatal bars, beholding acrofs the garden, and the vafl extent of the foreft, whofe gloomy abode appears to him pref- erable to the odious prifon, where he prefumes he will be obliged to remain all his life time.

In fpite of all this, his fenfible foul was ftill to undergo another fhock. Will he have ftiength fuf- flcientto bear the frightful fpectacle that will prefent itfelf to his fight ? At firft he hears fomebody fhut the door of the cellar, that object of his terror, with a terrible noiie, foon after Candor and Germain come forth, carrying each a lighted flam- beaux in their hand. A kind of a coffin covered with a pall is feen on their {boulders : They filently crofs the garden, and advance to the foot of the poplar tree, near the borders of the limpid rivulet: Here they take off their burden, and the dis- tance alone hinders Alexis from hearing or feeing what they do.

Meanwhile Candor appears to open the coffin : He lays down up- on it, he rifes again, a fire is kind^ led, the flame blazes, rifes, and on a fudden becomes extinct ; the tree is glanced, the leaves tremble, and the birds fitting on its branches flee with diimal fhrieks : the flambeaux are diiiinguifhed, all vanifhes.

Is it an illufion : is i: a phantom ? the moon rendered obfeure by the pale light of the torches fpread alone her myftic beams ; the birds return to their wonted tree, Can- dor and Germain appear again,

they

for JULY, 1794,

399

they crofs the garden, return to fet by the coffin in the fecret cave, the door is fhut, the rattling of keys, and the hollow found of bolts are heard again.

Let now the reader place himfelf in the fituation of my Alexis. He knows his fearful, fufpicious, and miftrufting temper ! Let him have an idea of his embarrafTrnent, his apprehenfions, his fhuddering 5 How agitated his mind !: That cof- fin, that flame ! what can have been that ceremony he could not diftinguim ; It is perhaps the body of fome flrayed traveller* which they burnt, after having ftript it. He doubts no more : To- morrow the fame fate awaits him 5 Eut where are his riches I why fhould they kill him ? his fpoil is not brilliant enough : No matter, he has all to fear. Perhaps Can- dor, deceived by the world, ha3

fworn to facrifice all fuch as will fall in his hands, to gratify his ven* geance. Alexis is perha ps to aug- ment the number of his victims ? All confirm him in that idea- Alas ! what has he done, that fate mould have brought him to this deteflable den ? He regrets not life, it is a burden to him ! but to fall by fo bafe a treachery,, after having trufted to the good faith and hu- manity of his butchers. This, this alone, caufes his defpair, and makes him wifh for the approach of day, in order to take a refolution : He will not fuifer himfelf to be flaugh- tered thus patiently ;. he will fell his life as dear as he can* Tremble, afTaffins, you mall not give him the mortal blow without having flood mod vigorous in his own defence againft Candor, Germain, and — « Clara ! what, is Clara guilty too I (To be continued,)

*^ao4^§»4feft^«f«-

The STORY

of SARAH

A N or el.

PHI

L L I P &

[By M. de Saint Lambert.]

(Concluded from page

35*-)

WHEN my uncle had taken his leave, I retired to a thick wood, where I walked about a considerable time in great agita- tion, fometimes fuddenly flopping when I found it difficult to invent means to remove certain obilacles, or obviate certain objections. I at length fat down, or rather fell, up- on the grafs, where I remained, in a profound reverie, till the arrival of Mr. Phillips, who had been look- ing for me. I never before expe- rienced fo great a pleafure at the fight of him, nor ever felt fo forci- bly that I could not bear to part from him. I communicated to • Jam my uncle's defigns, and my fin-

cere regret to difpleafe my family, by refufmg to accept fuch reasona- ble proposals.

I certainly dwelt too long on the fubjeel, for I mall forever reproach myfelf with the cruel pain to which I put my beloved Phillips. I faw him turn pale, his whole frame was feized with a trembling, he looked wild, and could fcarcely articulate a fyllabie. It muft be fo — faid he — Yes it muft be fo — he is a worthy young man — Your relations — Your rank — It muft — It mud be fo.

I faw he was readv to burft into tears, as he looked fteadfaftly upon me ; at length he dropped on his knees before me,

I could

4go MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

I could now conceal my emo- tions no longer, I rufhed forward to fupport the object of my affec- tions ; I threw my arms around him, crying out, my dear hufband ! At this tender and vehement ex- clamation he returned no anfwer, but raifmg himfelf, by little and little, with his eyes bathed in tears, looked at me with inexpreffible ten- cfernefs while I continued ftill to re- peat the words, My hufband ! my hufband ! As foon as he was able to fpeak, he attempted to perfuade me from my refolution ; but I flop- ped him, and intreated him, in the name of our mutual love, at leaft, to hear me. He feated himfelf near me ; his heart was all love, but a thoufand contending ideas and principles ftill marked his coun- tenance with a thoufand fears. — This moment, Qn which depended the happinefs of my life, is ftill fo prefent to my imagination that I have not forgotten the flighted cir- cumftance of what pafled.

I am well aware, faid I, of all you can fay, and am prepared to anfwer. My paffion is not blind and unreafonable. I know you well ; I am iperfuaded you are the man for who.m nature defigned me. It is on the amiable qualities I dif- cover in you that the happinefs of marriage depends ; the neceftity of an equality of rank is only prefcribed by human conventions. You and I are well convinced that the truly wife retfpecT: thefe conventions fmce they m aintain order in fociety. The rank in which we are born ought not to be difgraced by any alliance which the prejudices, it may be, of the reft of the world would con- demn. This is a fault which can- not fai 1 to be punifhed with con- tempt ; a contempt which though Unjuft, I mould be unable to bear.

But ought the law of nature to

yield to the interefts of fociety ? Perhaps it ought. Yet we have it in our power to obey the impulfe of our hearts, and at the fame time mow refpect to the prejudices of the world. The death of my parents has put me in poffeffion of two thou- fand pounds per annum, and three thoufand in ready money ; I will refign my eftate, only preferring the latter fum, to live with you.

Here Mr. Phillips attempted to interrupt me. He propofed we mould live fmgle. No faid I, that would be to offend againft the law of* nature which requires us to increafe and multiply. But why fhould we not marry ? To prefer ve my pof- feffions ? They cannot make me rich in my prefent rank ; but, if I defcend to your fituation in life,even the fortune I mean to retain will be fufficient. If I marry my coufm, we fhall be but moderately rich for our condition ; but I can render you very opulent for a farmer. I will presently fet out for London and have a report fpread that I am dead. The law will difpofe of my eftate to the family of my coufm, and we will return to Scotland, with what I have referved for my- felf, and obtain your father's per- miftion to marry.

Mr. Phillips kneeled at my feet, conjured me to defer the execution of fuch a plan, and carefully to ex- amine whether I fhould not regret what I was about to throw away.

No, replied I, I haye maturely weighed every confequence. What can I regret ? What pleafure can riches give which nature will not fupply in the way of life I have cho- fen ? Will not the real landfcape delight as much as the imitation of it by the painter's art ? or can filk and diamonds be neceftary to happinefs ? We mall enjoy every convenience which nature can re- quire,

for JULY, 1794.

401

^uire, and fuperflulty is only necef- fary for idlenefs.

As to the lofs of prefent connex- ions, how can I regret them when I fhali become the daughter of your father, and the mother of your chil- dren ?

Mr. Phillips loved and efleemed me too much to doubt, any longer, that I fhould be happy in this new condition of life, which I was fo defirous to embrace. I mail not attempt to defcribe either his joy and gratitude, or my own delight, when I had prevailed on him to ac- cept my offer. Never did any one feel fuch pleafure m the fudden ac- quifition of a great fortune, as I did in renouncing mine.

After having taken the necelfary meafures, we fat out for London, where I caufed a report to be circu- lated that I was dead. It will not be neceffary to relate all the arti- fices employed to render it proba- ble and gain it credit.

At length we returned to Scot- land. It is now feven years fmce I firfl entered this beloved retire- ment, and embraced, for the firft time, that excellent old man whom you fee fitting en that ftone, enjoy- ing the early rays of the fun, and endeavouring to recal fome portion of his former vigour, by the reviv- ing influences of the morning and the fpring. Receive, faid I, your daughter, who comes to render your old age cheery, and devote herfelf to promote the happinefs of your fon. You, my hufband, (hall inftruct me in every part of my new occupation, and I have no doubt but you will find me a frugal manager, and that thofe who de- pend on me, and thofe on whom I have the pleafure to depend, will be equally contented.

The old man was tranfported with joy, and this reverfe in his for-

C

tune, may perhaps, hare prolong- ed his life. He now bought the farm which he had before only rented ; our marriage was conclud- ed, and, from the moment I afTum- ed the name and condition of the man I love, no hour has paffed in which I have not bleffed my good fortune. We are happy, and may reafonably flatter ourfelvesthat we frtall continue fo* for as long a term as nature ufually permits.

Mr. Phillips and myfelf en- deavour only to employ our know- ledge, and love for literature, to give new ftrength to our enjoy- ments. We arc attentive to pro- cure every pleafure which our fili- ation affords, and to haften its re- lifh. One of the moft ufital fourc- es of difcontent, among mankind, is that they are continually endeav- ouring to obtain pleafures not in- tended for them, for want of being able to conform their ideas and de- fires to their condition and charac- ter. Into this error we have not fallen. We never lofe our time in Vain refearches, or ufelefs wifries ; nor do we ever forget to enjoy the; happinefs within our reach. The teftimony of a good conference, and our mutual affection, infure our felicity. We cultivate that philc£> ophy which infpires us with the love of virtue ; and, though we ihould be miftaken, we confider thofe illu- fions which are capable of exalting and purifying the foul as a benefit to mankinds We refolutely and wholly reject that fpecies of philof- -ophy which degrades human na- ture, and extinguifh.es in the heart the enthufiafm of humanity and virtue ; we wifh to preferve, in all their force and all their charms, the rapturous feelings of love and friendlhip.

There is, no doubt, always a fpe- cies of illufion in thefe fenfations.

i£»

4o2 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

if carried to excefs ; we do not be- lieve ourfelves perfect, but we en- deavour to become fo. We heigh- ten the enjoyment of the good we poffefs, by the hope of what is bet- ter. We are contented with the prefent, and tranfported with the profpecl of futurity. The better to preferve this internal love for vir- tue, we frequently perufe the nov- els of ftichardfon. We, likewife, of- ten read the poets ; among whom we prefer thofe who treat of the country, in which we live ; and the beauties of nature, which we love.

Rural poety is particularly plead- ing, when we have the objects it de- scribes before our eyes. The en- thuiiafm of the poet always rncreaf- es the enthufiafm of the fpecla- £or, and prevents its being extin- guifhed by too great a familiarity with the objects by which it is ex- cited. Poetry infpires us with re- ipecl: and love for the ancient and venerable arts of agriculture, for our occupation, and the fcenes a- mid which we refide.

We frequently fay to ourfelves, here would Homer and Virgil have been delighted. Here would Ti- bullus have fung the beauties of his Delia, and celebrated the charms of that infpiring wood, and this de- licious valley. It was in the coun- try that Haller and Gefner com- pofed their exquifite poems. Thofe great men preferred our way of fife to every other. Poets, and all Writers, who defcribe with warmth, and abound in feeling and imagery, .give new force to the charms of fen- fibility ; and, while we profecute thefe ftudies, our reafon and our fenfes combine to make us happy.

This appears to me to be mak- ing a proper ufe of philofophy, which has degenerated into fubtle- .ty and affection. It has too often gendered man ridiculous, inftead of

proving his confolation, and direct ing him to the happinefs fuitable to each ftation of life. Such was the: philofophy of my father, and fuch is ours. We educate our children in thefe principles ; they enjoy the delights accordant to infancy and youth, and we participate their pleafures.

I had frequently defired to inter- rupt Mrs. Phillips to make myfelf known to her, but ihe fpoke with fd much energy and rapidity I had no opportunity. No fooner did ihe paufe than, yielding to the efFufions of the heart, and feizmg one of her -hands, I exclaimed, Oh, happy Mils Thornton I and doubly happy Mrs. Phillips !

Immediately, as I pronounced her maiden name, ihe haflily rofe— Heavens I exclaimed ihe, What can this mean ? You fee before you, anfwered I, that very relation who loved you from your infancy, and who has long mourned your lofs. Bluih not that you have avowed fo tender a paffion for a virtuous huf- band. You have left me your for- tune, which I am ready to reftore. Let me conjure you to accept it. But whatever refolution you form, be certain of inviolable fecrecy.

I found no fmall difficulty in ap- pleafing Mrs. Phillips, who could not forgive herfelf for having placed fo much confidence in me ; but ihe would by no means confent to re- ceive back her eftate, and her huf- band, who came in a moment after- wards, being informed of all that had paiTed, coincided with her in opinion.

Survey, faid ihe, our houfe and grounds, and fay if any thing feems wanting which may conduce to our happinefs. Is not our furniture commodious and our table plenti- ful ? If we poiTe/Ted greater riches we ihouldno longer purfue our pref- ent

for JULY, 1794.

4°$

"fcnt occupations with the fame de- light ; we ihould find lefs pleafure in our labours ; amufement would take place of ufeful employment, and what amufed us one hour would difguft us the next. Should we ceafe to cultivate our fields and tend our flocks, we ihould no longer know the pleafing expectation of plentiful harvefts and rich fleeces.

We Ihould look on the country, then become lefs Valuable to us, with indifference. And who knows hut a fofter enthufiafm which is the delight of our hearts, would be ex- tinguiihed together with that which Nature infpires ? Our fentiments, perfectly fuited to and connected with our condition, are the fource of our happinefs. That happinefs may depend on an arrangement and combination ofcircumftances, which the leaft change might deftroy.

All my endeavours to perfuade my virtuous relations to fuffer me tp reftore them their poffeffions,

were without effect ; but they prom- ifed me their friendihip, and that I ihould frequently hear from them, and might pafs every year, fome days with them at the farm. At length I took my leave, not without tears, of this amiable and intelligent pair.

I was now convinced that reafon and happinefs, were yet to be found in the world. May I profit from this conviction to become rational and happy ! However the eftate I poffefs,near that moft pleafant fpot, has acquired a double value, in my efteem, for its vicinity to this excel- lent family ; I ihall rebuild the houfe, and frequently refide there. As to the pofleffions which are the right of Mrs. Phillips, I ihall not apply them to my own ufe ; the rents they produce ihall be diftrib- uted among our poorer relations, and the eftate one day return to the children of this happy and *<« miable pair.

For the MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

The GENERAL OBSERVER. No. XLVL

" Slander, that word of poifons, ever finds

" An eafy entrance to

IT is a univerfal complaint, and it is a complaint of long exift- ence ; a complaint which has been heard from ages immemorial, and js ftill echoed from generations paft, to the generation prefent, that man- kind are generally unfriendly to each other's reputation. All com- plain of the ungenerous ufage ; for almoft all in their turns are forced to receive it ; and yet, all, at times, are too willing to practife it. And well may the injured complain ; for .the mortifications and vexation, which they feel from the pcifoned arrows of the defamer t from f!v

ignoble minds."

infmuations ; from dirty and un= deferved afperlions ; and froni^ bold, though groundlefs charges? are very great diminutions of their happinefs ; the pain of a wounded fame, being equal to the pain of a broken bone.

Many will inflict this pain merely from a malignity of difpoution 5 and becaufe they feel a diabolical pleafure in deprefling others, and making them unhappy. Some will flander their neighbours, becaufe their neighbours are in better cir- cumftances, or in better efteem^ than themfebes. Some will blacks

4o4 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

en the characters of others, becaufe their own characters are black. Some will deal in fcandal by way of retaliation. Some, through mere talkativenefs. And fome, becaufe they think they cannot choofe a more agreeable topic, with which to entertain their company. The tea-table, be fure, according to the repeated farcafm of the wits, is fel- clom deftitute of this poifonous in- fufion.

That this ignoble vice infefts the country, more than the city, I am not fo invidious as to affirm. If the ignorant and low bred are ad- dicted to it, the inftrueted and well bred cannot always be exculpated from it. I wifh I could affirm with truth, that cities, in addition to their other exemptions, are ex- empt from the crime of detraction ; and that polite circles, from a feel- ing of delicacy and propriety, never condefcended to lend an ear to the tale of flander ; much lefs to utter it. In the country, though the air in general, be pure and wholefome ; yet it is fometimes infected with thofe fogs which obfeure, and with thofe poifonpus blafts wliich taint, £ fair and promifmg character. In the city, together with other founds which grate upon the air, we too often hear, efpecially from a noify prefs, thofe mutterings, growlings and bellowings, againft men and meafures, which have been compar- ed to, but which are but faintly re- prefented by, the croaking of rav- ens, the hooting cf owls, and the barking of dogs. In elegant rooms where ladies aiTqmble as well as in clubs at dirty taverns, and among crowds in the flreets, if we are not fuffocated with other offeniive fcents, we are almoft fure of being offended with the breath of fcandal. Hints are given, and whifpers are #reathed out, that iVch an enter-

prizing genius has defeated his ow a purpofes by fome ftrange impru- dence ; that fuch an active man in trade, owes more than he is worth ; that the owner of fuch an elegant carriage, has not yet paid for it ; that the father of that lady fo rich- ly drefled, muft foon fail ; that a certain gentleman the other night, loft a gold watch at a houfe of i\\ fame ; that fuch a beauty has been foiled by the arts of feduction ; and that a certain fea captain's wife, is now determined, by her fecret am- ours, to be, at leaft, even with her hufband.

That a difpofition to afperfe and diminiih the reputation of others, is a fign of bafenefs and depravity, needs no laboured arguments to prove. The vulgar cannot but fee, as I may vulgarly exprefs it, that the practice of fcandal is a fcanda- lous practice. It takes its rife from fome bafe paffion ; perhaps princi- pally from envy. It is made ufe of to anfwer fome bafe defigns. The pleafute which is enjoyed, either by thofe who propagate it, or thofe who liften to it, is an un- worthy pleafure. They who afpire after any thing that is excellent and noble ; after greatnefs, or fairnefs, of character, ihould not act fo in- confutently as to blow the trumpet of ill fame themfelves, or eagerly drink in the found when it is blown by others.

The deteftation in which the wife Romans held the crime of defama- tion, and the feverity with which they puniihed it,has been quoted by moralifts, to ihow its malignant na- ture, and to deter others from the practice of it. In fome periods of their government, the murderer of characters, as well as the murderer of men, was puniihed with death. And though modern States are not fo fevere ; yet perfons of fenfibility

and

*qk JULY, 1794-

405-

asid elevation of foul, have felt the wounds of infamy to be mortal, and the poifon and pain of it to be worfe than death.

" It is to me amazing,'' fays a humane moralift, " that ever any man, bred up in the knowledge of virtue and humanity, ihould 10 far call c*ff all ihame and tendernefs, as Erratum,*— In p. 291. 2d.

to ftand up in the face of thoufands, and utter fuch contumelies as I have read and heard of. Let fuch #. one know that he is making fools merry, and wife men fick ; and that, in the eye of confidering per- fons, he hath lefs compunction than the common hangman, and lefs ihame than a proftitute." c. 1. 17. for Sally read valley.

Qn the Conduct of a Young Lady during Courtship,

(Continued from page 302.)

characterize the warmeft love, fhould happen to be joined to this efteem, you will then foon diftin- guifh their different natures. The impetuous paffion will, by degrees, foften down to tendernefs ; the an-

IF by love is meant that romantic folly which urges your fex to the moil unaccountable and unjuf- tifiabie connexions, I am fure it is not a necelTary ingredient in the matrimonial cup. Love, as I have already hinted, is founded o:. the juft bafis of efteem and confidence ; but it is fomething more. Between amiable people, of different fexes, it acquires an animating warmth which raifes it above friendship ; it acquires an interefting attraction fuperior to efteem. This warmth, and this attraction, often fubfift fep- arate from what ought to be their foundation ; but it is invariably found, that while they are " bafe- lefs as the fabric of a vifion," they are equally unftable alfo. They leave only unavailing remorfe, and an ufelefs, but lafting repentance. In that rational attachment, where efteem is not only the foundation but the diftinguifhing feature ; where the romantic raptures are obfeure and indiftinct, there is, at leaft, a fubftance durable and per- manent— it is not the morning cloud, or the early dew, which the fun or the wind may diftipate : It is interwoven in our natures ; it is a part of our constitution ; and its duration is equally ftable. Sup- posing that every feeling which can

imated warmth will become more temperate, and the whole fabric will difappear, leaving only the fteady foundation, which time can- not diflblve. This, Nancy, is not theory only — look into the world, and each moment will mow you a ftriking example of both particulars. How many has the fecond poli- tion deceived ? yet it will continue to deceive more ; for there is fcarcely a girl who thinks that it is poffible to love a fecond time. If it were worth while to contend with this phantom, for be afFured, my dear girl, it is one, I need only a- gain direct you to the dictates of experience : and if love can be characterized, it has certainly been found more than once in the fame perfon. The refuge from the force of thefe examples is trifling and contemptible. A ftrenuous antag- onift tells you, that ONE of thefe paiTions is the only true love ; another that it is not two, but a. continuation of the fame feeling ; the perfon only is changed. I will allow both thefe a^fvyex'Sj ridiculous

as

406 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

as they are ; for they will teach you, Nancy, another ufeful leffon ; though you have loved once, you may yet be happy. If I do not al-^, low them, the leffon is equally eftab- lifhed by what is my firm opinion, that love, fo far as it is connetted with happinefe, may be felt more than once for objects very different. The feelings may, in one inftance, be more vivid than in another ; and confequently the mod active flame will be alone recognized as the fav- ourite paffion.

With your eyes opened to the fource of thefe different errors, your determination will be more correct ; and the confequences more proba- bly fortunate.

If you accept of your prefent of- fer, from the moft deliberate exami- nation, I ftiall next, offer you fome' advice on your conduct. In love affairs there is an eftablifhed lan- guage, but it is a mere fyftem of words, and you fhould confider itw in no other light, " honour and favour, coldnefs and cruelty, rap- tures and defpair," all mean the fame, that is, in fact, neither of them mean any thing. If a man addreffes you in a ftyle fo trifling, it is an affront to your underftand- ing ; if in another, in a more affur- cd and licentious manner, it is an affront to your delicacy. A man of fenfe will addrefs himfelf to your mind ; yet, in fuch a fituation, there is fo great a difficulty, the fubject it- felf is fo important, and the fuccefs, in general, fo precarious, that ^t daggers the firmeft refolutions, and difconcerts the moft deliberate de- terminations. It is faid, and with juftice, that, at this time, every man behaves like a fool ; but, per- haps, there is not a more ftrong mark of folly, than a carelefs confi- dent affurance, in a ftep en which future happiiLcfs fo much depends.

Do not, therefore, think the worfe of any man who delays his declar- ation, and* after frequent opportu- nities, lofes every chance by a feem- ingly unreafonable diffidence. The anfwer of every woman, in fimilar circumftances, is not very different. If fhe is not aware of the declara- tion, fhe muft neceffarily be afton- ifhed, and unable to reply ; if ftie is, her anfwer wears the fame air of doubt, of hefitation, and feemingly of coldnefs. The whole fex refem- ble Milton's picture of Eve, who would not " unfoughi, be won." I do not mean to blame this conduct, it is proper in aim oft every view. Some deviations from it 1 . have known • and, in fuch circumftanc- es, admired the candor and fmceri- ty of the female heart. In this fituation, I fuppofe that the perfon who afks is not indifferent to the lady, for on this part of the fubjeft we are now talking. If fhe has de- termined to reject her lover, noth- ing can excufe the folly, the injuf- tice, of not making an explicit de- claration in the fofteft, but moft de- termined language. The delicacy, the real delicacy, which for a period of time feems to fhrink from a re- queft of this kind, though fome- times affected, is frequently fmcere. The foftnefs of the female mind is not always equal to an inftant de- cifion ; and its timidity is terrified by the profpect of the important change. But remember, Nancy* every virtue has its kiridred vice. This proper, this juftifiable delicacy- may, when indulged too far, degen- erate unto the moft trifling procras- tination. It is not eafy to fix its limits, becaufe they muft vary with the circumftances of each individu- al ; but I think a woman may know her own opinion, and that of her friends, in two, or at fartheft three weeks. If the lover, in that time,

is

for. JULY, 17^4,

4o?

is not abfolutely rejected, the wom- an's character will certainly fuffer in his mind, and in the opinion of the world, if without any unfore- feen circumftance, he be not at laft accepted. In this cafe delay givesX encouragement, and filence^ in the common language, gives confent.

The ftruggle, limagine, my dear Nancy, is now over. Your whole appearance wears an air of calm- nefs and eafe, Which are never the characteriftics of doubt, or of un- certainty. As your refolution feems to be formed on the moft folid ba- fis, it will, I hope, produce the fin- cereft happinefs. You have no doubt of the affection of your lover ■: His is not a momentary pamon ; for it has been matured by reflec- tion : It does not arife from the fancied luftre of general admira- tion ; for it has not been your lot frequently to mine in the gay world. But regret not this imagi- nary happinefs : If your humbler ftate has put you beyond its brillian- cies, it has alfo fecured you from its uneafmefles ; if it has deprived you of its pleafures, it has faved you from its triflings and difgufts. You are not wholly unacquainted with it ; but, if the general appearance of, and the occurrences in polifhed life, do not exhibit to your eyes, one of the moil ridiculous infipid farces that ever was performed on a ftage, either you mult be deficient in un- derftanding and feeling, or you muft be dazzled by its mow. To return, as you are now fecure of the w affection of the perfon who folicits your diftinction, it mufl be your bufinefs not to lofe it by a trifling, or to fritter it away by a capricious behaviour. It is an awkward phrafe, but there is no other equal- ly expreffive. If your humour is variable as the accidents of life ; if every trifle influences your difpoii-

tion ; and your lover mud feel the effects of it in your behaviour, it is very probable that, with the ufual facility, he will yield to the little blaits, rather than contend with them : He will fue for pardon, for imaginary faults ; he will endeav- our to reftore the fmile to your clouded brow, that fmile in which. the Loves and the Graces play ; and, when he cannot remove the caufe, hz will obviate the effect. This is the fcene of your fexes tri- umph ; but remember, that, in ev- ery fuch pettifh quarrel, you muft lofe a portion of his love ; fome atom of his efteem. The effects may not foon appear ; and, like drops of water on a ft one, a fre- quent fuccelfion may probably make no viable impreflion ; yet, in both inftahces, a conftant repeti- tion will produce confiderable ef- fects. It is a principle deeply im- planted, that we fly to what gives us pleafure, and avoid what pro- duces different impreflions, For a time, perhaps, thefe little froward- neifes may be endured t for a. fhort period, they may even be admired ; but you muft foon expect very dif- ferent effects. If love is not dt+ ftroyed by thefe follies, it is much impaired ; and the hufband moft commonly revenges the fufferings- of the lover. But, at all events, remember that you faeririce fome portion of his regard ; that you rife the polifti of the diamond by your wanton experiments on its hardnefs j that you u' 'ermine the foundation, by exami" ng its depth. It is not iincommoi., even after a fixed refolution, for young ladies, in your fituation, to treat their lovers with an unreafonable coldnefs ; This, Nancy, was what I meant by lofing his affection by a trifling be- haviour. That coldnefs is to itand for virtue 3 that referye for a rigid delicacy ;

*o8 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

delicacy ; and, by thus imitating the exterior of thefe valuable qual- ities, by carrying them to an unjus- tifiable excefs, many of your fex vainly endeavour to affume the merit which their real prefence I would confer juft with the fame fuc- cefs that the Roman poets hoped to rival Horace, by attempting to look as pale as he did. True virtue and true delicacy, my dear girl, con- duct themfelves very differently. I do not fufpect your porlemng them in their utmoft purity ; but I fear your being led away by unjuft*'*" though delufive maxims ; by de- ceitful, though plaufible examples. Is it inconfiftent with the trueft del* icacy to return the love of a worthy man, who folicits it in the mod hon- burable manner ; who wifhes to

* ihare with you, riches and poverty, honours and misfortunes ? Is it in- confiftent with the mod unfpotted virtue, to connect yourfelf with him

4 by thofe ties which religion and your country's laws have appoint- ed ? The queftions you fay are trif- ling ; I allow it, but fuch conduct is more fo. It is a greater difgrace to connect yourfelf with any man, without feeling that rational efteem which can make your duty pleafmg, without that preference which can enable you to look at even poverty

y and misfortune with a fteady eye, when united ^with him : This, I fay, is a greater indelicacy, than owning either an efteem or a warm- er paflion. If you admit his vifits, ycu either fubject yourfelf to the imputation of deceit, or a want of candour, when you endeavour to keep him ignorant of what, if he poffefs the lead penetration, you are unable to conceal. I am no ad- vocate for forward and indelicate confeffions : The modeft blufh, the irrefolute breaks in converfaticn, convey much more than *< all the

forms of fludied eloquence," a word and a look will tell the interefting fecret ; and if he defires to know more, he does not deferve it.

Let your whole conduct then be rational, candid and difcreet ; treat him with a generous opennefs, con- ceal no part of your ownfentiments* and attend to his wftfo care ; attend to them* Nancy, fcr they mu£ be yours. If you cannot combat his prejudices, comply with them ; if you cannot correct his errors, re- fpect them, when they lead to no improper conduct, when they affect neither the principles of religion nor morality* From the firft mo- ment that you fufpect either, from that moment defpife and reject him, The man who cannot be juft to his Creator, will not be fo to you ; he who can defpife the laws of ei- ther God or man, can be bound by no ties to you. It would be pollution, for a moment, to har- bour his image in your bofom ; and every rational profpecl of hap- pinefs is at an end. You have then but one ftep, take it decidedly and refolutely, and never again meet or fpeak to him whatever temptation may be thrown in your way, however glittering the bait.

There is another part of a man's character, ' which, though not de- fenfible, yet is not treated with equal harfhnefs ; I mean an ac- quaintance with the abandoned part of your own fex. I would guard you againft fuch a one, if it were not to condemn you to celiba- cy, for very few, I fear, are fo chafle as a delicate woman would require. We cannot now flop to inquire in- to the fource of this depravity ; but I fear fome part of the blame*would fall upon your own fex. I do not mean from the temptations which they difplay, or from the frailty, which v/eakens refntance ; but from

the

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the inattention with which thefe vices are treated by mbdeft women, and from the facility with which thefe errors are forgiven. Do, not* however* run into the oppofite ex- treme. A woman, outrageoujly vir-

Alas ! the bounds beween righi and wrong are fo narrow, that this confidence has led to ruin, and has deftroyed, what it ought, what it fondly wifhed, to have cherifhed. Remember, that it may eafily go

tuous, is always fufpected ; and fhe X too far, and will lull every fenti-

who rails with acrimony again ft the too eafy compliance of the yield- ing fair ones, endangers the reputa- tion, if not of her own virtue, at leaft of her prudence. But though in the prefent ftate of fociety you muft unavoidably affbciate with thofe whofe conduct is highly reprehenfi- ble, and good manners may require

ment, but that of love, afleep : If this paffion is not a fubject, it will foon be a tyrant. Think then that you walk on a precipice, and, though you may be really fafe, within a foot of the " extreme verge," yet that a cafual flip, a momentary in- attention, at that diftance, may be fatal. To be fecure you fhould be you to treat them with attention,* within the pofibility of danger. The yet encourage nO man as a lover, conduct of your lover will depend

of whofe virtue you are not well aflure.d. But this is from the fub- ject ; I was unwillingly drawn into it ; and though I would not feek* yet I need not avoid it.

While your fentiments are free and unreftrained* for I do not think that one of yotvr's requires reftraint, while you attend to him with that refpect and deference which his fnperior advantages, and perhaps abilities* fhould command, yet you muft carefully watch both his ac- tions and your own; I need not warn you again ft indelicate liber- ties, for, if it. were not for political motives, yec I have much reafon to believe that your delicacy would flrrink from improper attempts* and that your fenfibility, " tremblingly alive," would feel the wound, be- fore you were actually hurt. But innocent liberties are a mark of confidence in her who admits them ; and what fo flattering as a well founded confidence ? But where* Nancy, fhall we draw the line ?

much on his former life* To a man of loofe manners, a woman of virtue is above humanity ; fhe is an angel, which he adores at a dif- tance. Unufed to her delicate pu- rity* he almoft forgets her fex in his admiration ; but from the mo- ment fhe* by inadvertence* betrays it, from that moment, in his mind, fhe mingles with the common herd : He addreffes her with little appre- henfion, and treats her with little ceremony. On the contrary, a man of a more fober caft, who is anxious for a whole life of happi- nefs, neither riles fo high in his veneration, nor finks into equal fa-" miliarity* In all circumftances he treats his miftrefs with attention and refpect, nor- will he rifle for a , momentary plea Pure the calm fc- .renity of his future days. Such a man, my dear, fhould be your ob- ject, and fuch a one I hope you will Obtain. , It Will then be your own fault if you are not happy.

A

A N E C D O T E.

Britifh Nobleman, who had not the character o{ being ve- foL VI* D

ry courageous, one day a fired a mi- fer, what pleafure he experienced ia hoarding

4io MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

plied the mifer," as you in carry*

hoarding up fo many guineas, and not making any ufe of them ? " I find as many charms in them," re-

ing a fword."

-^2*s;£^S5s2^ «=»

For

MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

On the Double Use of Interrogative Point;

TH E ufe of interrogative points, both at the beginning and end of interrogative fentences, appears to be countenanced by fome of our raoft eminent typographers ; and is even recommended in a fyf- tem of punctuation, lately publifh- ed in Bolton. As a friend to the cultivation of the ufeful arts, I can- not but regret that a practice, which ferves no other purpofe than to deform the page, lhould be coun- tenanced under a falfe idea of its utility. I am fenfible that, in com- batting this doctrine, I combat the opinion of the juftly celebrated Dr. Franklin ; and, fuch is my venera- tion for his knowledge of the lefs as well as the greater branches of the arts and fciences, I mould per- haps have blindly acquiefced in his opinion, had he not condefcended to favour us with his reafoning on the fubject. He tells us, in a letter to N. W. Efq. that, by placing the interrogative point at the end of the interrogative fentence, the reader is not apprized of the nature of the fentence, fo as to modulate his voice in a proper manner, till he comes to the clofe of the fentence, and is then, finding his miftake, under the neceffity of beginning the fentence again. This, if true, would indeed convince us of the propriety of placing the point at the, beginning of the fentence rath- er than at the end ; but it certainly does not prove the neceffity of the double ufe. But, upon examination, the advantage in either cafe mil be

found to be little more than imag- inary.

The conftruction of interrogative fentences, with -very few excep- tions, is fuch as to inform the read- er or hearer of their nature, with- out any particular marks or points ; and this, almoft univerfally, by the arrangement of the very firft words in the fentence. For inftance ; < Has the man any friends ? Is it true \ Who was the informer ? What elfe can be expected ? Did you believe the report ? Here either the verb or auxiliary is placed y contrary to the arrangement in af- firmative fentences, lefore the noun or pronoun ; or the words who and what (land at the beginning of the fentences, either of which circum- ftances is fufhcierrt to apprize the reader of the nature of the ientence. But, granting that we depend al- together upon the point for our knowledge of the nature of the in- terrogative fentence, the point itfelf is fo prominent, as to be eafily dis- covered at the diitance of three, four, or even ten lines on a common page. A proficient therefore in the art of reading rarely requires this additional affiftance; and an ordinary reader will never avail himfelf of it fo far, as to deviate from his habitual monotony.

In fhort, I cannot perceive any the leaft advantage, which can be derived from this practice. If, as is commonly the cafe, the interrog- ative fentence is fhbrt, the reader cannot but perceive the point, al- though

for JULY, 1794.

4*1

though placed at the end of the fentence, and may modulate his voice accordingly. If the fentence is long, ftill the point will be dis- covered, when the reader comes to the cloSe, where, if at any part of the fentence, a different modu- lation is required. It is laid, I am fenfible, that interrogative Sentences require, at the clofe, an elevation of the voice ; and, from this Sup- pofition, I prefume, the advantage which is to be derived from the in-~ formation of the point at the be- ginning of the fentence, is predica- ted. But this is a rule, which fur- nifhes more exceptions than exam- ples. When the interrogative fen- tence begins with a word, which Has itfelf an interrogative Significa- tion, the voice ought to falb in the fame manner as at a period. For example : " Who hath wo ?" ec Where was?t thou, when I laid the foundations of the earth ?'* " What fhall a man give in ex- change for his foul?" " How ma- ny loaves have ye &' " Which of the prophets have not your fathers perfecuted ?" In thefe and fuch like inftances, which undoubtedly compofe by far the greater part of Interrogative Sentences, no good reader makes at the clofe, an ele-

vation of his voice. Indeed, the points, which are ufed in writing and printing, are not intended tc diredc the modulation of the voice« The infinite variety of modulation, which different Sentences and the fame Sentences, in different con- nexions, require, renders the ufe of points, for this purpoSe, impracti- cable. The points mark the gram- matical conftruclion of fentences, and defignate their nature, fo far as to communicate to the reader the SenSe of their author, whichp when gained, will naturally regu- late the modulation of the voice.

The above obfervations equally apply to the double ufe of the notes of admiration, which, I hope, will likewife be discontinued. The fre- quent ufe of the Italic letter and the Small capital, Servos no other purpofe, than to deform the page, and to deftroy that effect, which, if fparingly ufed, they might occa- sionally produce. The fair Ro- man letter, without the diminutive Italic, and the deformity of points of interrogation and admiration* yoked together by an inSignificant. , daih, exhibits, on a fine paper, a very inviting appearance to a read- er oS tafle.

THE MEDDLER,

►»»<5*t-€tf£<i|^§Hf®^

For the MASSACHUSETTS MA G A Z I N E.

The G h E A N E R. No. XXVL

The deed of worth is regifter'd on high, Own'd and approv'd in worlds beyond the fey— Nor only fo — we feel an anfwering glow, Which but the virtuous adtion can bcftow : Nor thefe alone — an earned oft is given, Immediate good — the award of righteous Heaven.

THE author who leaves noth- blameable arrogance, and it is ofte:, ing to the imagination of his aiTerted that, puffed up by an over- readers, is frequently accufed of weening Self conceit, he vainly Sup-

poles,.

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pofes, that thegerme of fancy can flouriih no where but in the foil of his own wonderful pericranium. — - Now, as the fact is, that I am anx- ipufly folicitous to avoid every ocr cafion of offence, I (hall, taking in- to confideration the feelings of fen- fibility, and properly influenced, by an idea of the ingenuity which is its accompaniment, wave the de- fcription of thofe delightful fenfa- tionsr which, in rapturous faccef- fion, were the natural appendages of the introduction, of the father of Margaretta. The extatic fondnefs with which he hung upon the ac? cents of his daughter ; the mingling pleafures and regrets ; the big er motions which furprifed his foul, as he traced each lovely feature ; thofe well known features, which exhib- ited to his yiew, a beauteous tranf- cript of thofe that he had early learned to admire in the face of her departed mother. Mr. Melwortb wore in his bofom a miniature of his lady ; it might have paffed for an exact copy of Mrs. Hamilton. The equifke fenfations with which he traced the kindred lineaments ; the glowing expreflions of paternal ienaernefsj with which he folded the little William to his bcfom ; the marked approbation, unequivo- cally demonstrated toward every movement of the hufband of Jiis Margaretta ; the manly and com- placent regards that he bellowed upon Mifs Clifford ; the fweet in- cenfe of expanfive, and immeafura- ble praife, that he addrefled to me, ftvlinc me the faviour, the bene- factor, the genuine father of his poor orphan girl ; the elevated re- gards, fhort only of adoration, which he devoted to my dear Ma- ry ; thofe charming effuiions, con- futing in expreffive looks, broken •words, and unambiguous geftures ; effufioas which were the fpontane-

ous growth of uncommon felicity | the reciprocity of exquifite fatisfac- tion which we abundantly inhaled ; all this, and whatever, elfe the foul of fenfibility can conceive, gladly do I refer to the glowing mind of the feeling fentimentaliit. Imagination, in its utmoit latitude, I hereby inveft with full fcope. It is impoffible to paint too high. Language is indeed infufRcient, and fancy, with its rncil vivid tints, can ajone portray.

Nay, gentle reader, I take upou me to aifert, that however e]abo* rately thou may ft rlnilh thy picture, after thou haft bellowed upon it thy laft touches, it , may, after all, fall vaitly (hort of the original, and, right forry am I, that my powers are fo circumfcribed, as to render it impornble for me to place it in its genuine luftre before thee. But, finite efforts, being doomed to fubmit to a necefnty, the effects of which, it mull ever be unavail- ing to lament ; we will, without further preamble, proceed in our narration. I would not have thee conceive, that I am fo unreafona- ble as to condemn thee to the drud- gery of accounting for the fudden appearance of Mr. Meiworth ; nor can I content, that fetting me dowu as a descendant of Merlin, thou ihouldft place in my hand the magic wand ; inveft me with the powers of incantation, the gift of working miracles, or, of fummon- ing " fpirits from the vajlly deep?* No, believe me, I am no conjurer, and the better to banifh every idea of a iupernatural interpoution, I haften to bring forward the prom- ifed facts. Imagine then, that the tumultuous and perturbed fen- fations of ungovernable tranfport, which were confequent upon' the late development, have fubnded into that bland and pleaiing calm, which

FOR

JULY, 1794.

413

which is the refult of high com- placency in the prefent, and- the moft agreeable anticipations of the future ; or into that ftate of tran- quillity, which muft always be con- sidered as a defirable fubftitute for the hurricane of the paffions, what- ever may be the magnitude of the event which produced it. The extreme of joy and forrow, origi- nating commotions as deftructive to the order of the mental fyftem, as the uprooting itorm to the ap- parent harmony of the natural world. The mild and equal dif- pofition cannot but regard as a re- lief, the regular fucceffion ofevents. Imagine that our happy circle is retired to the little apartment fac- red to fentimental pleafures ; to that apartment, upon which the itep of inconliderate levity, or in- difference, obtrudeth not. Mar- garetta is feated between her en- raptured father, and that hufhand, who for her exemplary worth, ex- periences with every rifmg hour, augmenting admiration and new efteem. — Mary, Serafina and my- felf, complete the group. Mr. Mel- worth, preffing the hand of Mrs. Hamilton, thus commences his in- terefting communications. — " I ob- ferved, my dear, the fweet blufh that tmged thy lovely cheek, upon my mentioning in terms of repre- henfion, the name of Mrs. Arbuth- not ; but you muft allow for the feelings of a defolaied father. But for her unforgiving and obdurate fpirit, the probability is, that your angelic mother would, at this de- lightful moment, have partook, and doubled all, thofe exquifitely charm- ing lenfations, which fwell a par- ent's bofom, and which prefent fuch an ample compenfation for every evil. From the hour which blefTed m<* with the hand of my Margaret- t.a,.fhe continued feduloufly intent

upon procuring a reconciliation with her filer, and the utter improb- ability of obtaining her wimes in this refpecl, embittered our moft pleafurable moments. She contin- ued to figh for the companion of her youth, and her intenfe, and un- availing folicitude, vifibly impaired her health. I flattered myfelf that the period which gave thee, my love, to her arms, would fupply that void in her bofom, which, how- ever ardent the attachment of your fex to the man of their choice may be, fuch is the delicacy of the fe- male mind, a tender and refpecta- ble female friend can alone fill. Your mother, my dear, was early left an orphan. Her filler had for a long period reigned fupreme in her bofom. Fate prefented her not a Mrs. Vigellius ; goodnefs lb unexampled is not the growth of every clime ; neither was a Serafi- na Clifford contained in the circle of her connexions. Yet, as I had hoped, the birth of her daughter opened a refource of new, and ex- hauftlefs pleafure ; and when me clafped her lovely infant to her bofom, for a moment (he forgot her filter. Yet memory, too faithful to its office, officioufly prefented

the mirror. " Dear implacable

Henrietta !" (lie exclaimed, " why wilt thou ftand aloof ? why wilt thou refufe to heighten the trans- ports of this delicious moment ? Thy prefence, thy fanclion would, indeed, add a completion to my felicity which would mark me the moil blefled of women. The nov- elty, however, the foft endearments, the thoufand namelefs perturba- tions, and tender intereft of the maternal character, were powerful alleviations, and the tranquillity of the mother was in a meas- ure reftored. Eighteen halcyon months revolved, when fate, as if envious

4X4 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

envious of our felicity, prefented me with a profped of obtaining great emolument, by engaging on board a fhip bound for the Eaft- Indies. I was flattered by the idea of obtaining for my Margaret- ta and her infant, an elegant inde- pendence, and that refolution which became the fuperftructure of a bafis fo proper and fo deeply laid, could siot be eafily fhaken. Margaretta, while ihe acknowledged the eligi- bility of my plan, fhrunk from its execution. Her tenderly appre- henfive bofom foreboded a thouf- and evils.- — Yet the heroifm of her character can never be too much admired. " Go, my Charles" — - with emotions of tender and unut- terable agony, fhe exclaimed — - " fince it muft be fo — go ! — and may the upholding hand of heaven be in every event thy never failing fupport ! — Repeatedly fhe fobbed out the convulfed, and agonizing adieu, while ingenious in inven- tions to retard my departure, fhe prened me to her throbbing heart. Oh ! my love, in broken accents ihe whifpered, if we meet again we fnall then be happy. But alas ! alas ! fhe could not add. Yet {till her clafped hands, and ftreaming eyes, continued to fupplicate the protection of that God, on whom her firm reliance was invariably placed. I was inexpreffibly moved. My foul was little lefs tempefted ; yet the fplendor of my profpects, my previous arrangements, my pledged honour, all urged me on ; and by one violent effort I tore my- felf from the moll beloved of wom- en. Our mutual fufferings, may be regarded as a prediction of the fatal event. It was decreed that we never more mould meet ! Pro- pitious gales attended the firft part of our voyage, and I had began to anticipate the rich harveft that a

few painful feafons would enable me to lay at the feet of my heart's beft treafure. We had already doubled the fouthern extremity of the great continent of Africas com- monly called the Cape of Good Hope, and ihaping our courfe North Eaft to the continent of India, we were proceeding with all difpatch. When, lo ! on a fudden, the fcowling atmofphere gathered darknefs ; dreadfully por- tentous the winds of heaven arofe. Waves beat on waves frightfully tempefted. The tumultuous ocean feemed to lafh the contending fkies. Louder and louder the deftruc- tive whirlwinds bellowed round. Hoarfe thunders roared terrific peals fucceeding peals. The heav- ens poured forth a deluge of rain, and the forked lightnings were all abroad. Surrounded pn every fide by the tremendous world of wa- ters, affi trance was impornble, no afylum prefented. The feaman's art was in vain, and death, in its mod mocking form, appeared inevi- table. But to defcribe the horrors of our fituation is beyond the reach of language. In the latitude in xvhich we then were, there is a large ridge of rocks, they are point- ed out in mod of our fea charts ; but if our pilot was aware of them it was not in his power to avoid them, for accelerating that fate which, imagining that the fhip might live many hours, I had not fo fpeedily expected bilging inftant- ly, upon one of thofe rocks ; a fecond ftroke fevered her in twain. The ihrieks of the mariners were beyond exprefnon ihock.ing. How long they furvived, or what efforts they made, I am not able to fay, for feizing a part of a ihattered raft, I committed myfelf to the care of that God, whofe protection I had never ceafed to invoke. — Floating

at

for JULY, 1794.

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at the mercy of the winds and Waves, I momently expected dilfo- lution ; but what circumftances are' beyond the reach of Omnipo- tence ? Suddenly the winds were huflied, and I was driven upon a fmall uninhabited Iiland. My firft fenfations, it will not be doubted, fpontaneoufly iilued in the moft grateful orifons to the God of my life, who had thus gracioufly inter- pofed for my prefervation. But ifoon the image of my Margaretta, clothed in the habiliments of im- meafurable wo, harrowed up my foul ; her forlorn and helplefs fitu- ation — her unprotected infant • — My God ! madnefs wTas in the thought. — I was on the point of again plunging into that ocean from which I had fo recently ef- caped, but the good hand of up- holding Deity ftill prevented me, and was ftill my ihield. Gradual- ly the heavens refumed a ferene af- pect, my mind became aftoniihingly calm, and drying the only veft- ments which now remained to me upon a fun beat rock, whofe craggy fides, received the moft intenfe rays of that luminary, beneath the foli- age of a iheltering tree I ftretched my weary limbs. Sleep foon fpread over me its downy mantle, and I obtained a temporary oblivion of thofe lacerating reflections, with which fucceeding hours, in dread- ful order appalled my finking fpir- it. Necefilty compelled me to fearch out the good, if any remain- ed, which was yet within my grafp. At the falutary ftream I Hacked my thirft, and the nutritions berry, zefted by hunger, afforded me a delicious repaft. Ey one foothing hope I was ftill buoyed up. I trac- ed unequivocal veftrges of the hu- man ftep. Ships I was pofitivc had recently touched there. I might yet recognize my fellow man. I might

yet be borne to my native Ifle. Def- pair, however, two often gained the afcendancy, and at fuch intervals, inexpreftible anguiih overwhelmed my foul. But it is impoffibie to paint the unequalled calamities of his iituation, who is thus circum- ftanced* Even the glowing imagin- ation of a Thomfon could only Sketch them. — Yet, not a revolving hour but heard me, to the liftening echo repeat —

" Unhappy he ! who from the firrt of joys, " Society cut off, is left alone [day

" Amid this world of death. Day after " Sad on the jutting iminence he fits, w And views the main that ever toils.

below ; ** Ships, dim difcov£r'd, dropping from the

clouds ; " At evening to the fetting fun he turns, " A mournful eye, and down his dying

heart " Sinks hopelefs j while the tvented roar is

up &< And hifs continual through the tedious

night.

Bat forever blefTed be the benig- nant Difpofer of events J The term of my fufferings was cut fhort, It was the employment of my firft rational moment, after I had beeri thrown upon the h'land, to make, with a part of my clothing,- a. fig- nal of diftrefs. Upon a prominent angle, afceitded a fmall acclivity, on the fumrrnt of which flood the tall trunk of a tree, that contending ftorrr.s had dripped of its branches*. To this difrobed trunk, I contrived to fallen the beacon of my diftrefs, and I confecrated it with many fupplications to him who was alone able to fave.

The morning of the fifth day af- ter I had fo providentially efcaped the waves, broke divinely ferene, An amazing continuity was out- ftretched before me. With folded amis, and an aching heart, I con* ternplated

4i6 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

templated the extenfive main. The frightful folitude, the awful flillnefs to which I was condemned, arofe dreadfully terrific to my foul. I threw abroad raj anxiouily inquir- ing gaze ; a cloud feemed to gath- er at a diftance. It is not a clouds What can it be ? Swiftly it ap- proaches. Great God ! is it porti- ble ! — Saviour of fmners, it is, in- deed, the white fails of a heaven directed bark ! — It is bending to- ward me ! — Ah ! it recedes, and my bounding fpirit dies within me !

Again, however, its altered courfe bore rapidly down upon my defo- late abode. The infignia of calami- ty, reared not in vain its petitioning head. The necefTary arrangements were made. The boat was man- ned. My heart leaped exulting 5 it was too big for its prifon. My tongue refufed utterance, while* with that commiferating cordiality, which feamen know fo well to prac- tife, and which is a characleriftic trait of their order, I was receivedoii board the fhip. To complete my joy, the captain and crew were Englifh. The captain was a hu- mane and venerable man ; more than threefcore years he had num- bered. A mower of tears relieved my burfting heart. I told my tale of wo, and he regarded me with even paternal goodnefs. Few know how to refpect. the unfortunate ; ineftimable are the foothings of be- nevolence, to the children of ad- verfity.

A tedious voyage was now to be performed, and although a proper fenfe of the divine interpofition in my favour, forbid every murmer, yet a recurrence to thofe pangs which I Well knew would lacerate the gentle bofom of her my foul held moft dear, cculd not fail of pointing the keener! arrows of af-

fliction ! Ten long months, datirrg from the time of my departure* performed their tedious round, ere the white cliffs of Albion again- met my longing gaze. With what extacy did I leap upon the ftrand. Lowly to the parent foil I bent my head 5 with filial lips I kiffed the kindred turf, and my bounding fpirit, ftruggling with its mingling fenfaticns, poured forh the rapt orifons of a ihipwrecked, exiled, refcued, and reftored man I On the wings of fpeed I haded to my native village ; to that village* which, I fuppofed contained my on- ly treafure. But what became of me, when pofting to the apartments of Margaretta, I found them occu- pied by flrangers ! — Yet, hope ftill whifpered (he had removed to fome other abode. I hafted to the dwell- ing of a friend, from whom I learn- ed the fum of my misfortunes. You are, my friends, acquainted with the feelings of the heart. Ev- ery feature in your exprerTive coun- tenances, are vouchers of your fen* fibiiity-^Why mould I aim at deli* neation ! « When to the height of hopelefs forrow

" wrought ! Cc The fainting fpirit feels a pangof thought,, " Which never painfed in the hues of

" fpeech, " Lives at the foul, and mocks exprefHon's

" reach."

I drop the curtain over a train of fucceeding ills ; fkknefs, lofs of reafon, comfortlefs calamities !

Mrs. Arbuthnot, when ihe ac* companied her hufband to Ireland* bore my child with her. My aged, widowed mother, gently remon- frrated. My fuppofed death, and the defnife of Margaretta, had cen- tered her every remaining wiih in the little prattler. Mrs. Arbuth- not plead the dying injunctions, and beq'idl

for JULY, 1794.

417

bequeft of her fitter. This was de- ceive. The regulations fuggefted by the everlaftingly abfmt, ihould be deemed inviolably facred, and my mother with floods of unavail- ing tears fubmitted. A few pain- ful weeks devoted to heartfelt re- gret, had fucceeded a feparation judged unavoidable, when my un- fortunate mother received a line from Mrs. Arbuthnot, acquainting her that the little Margaretta was- tiJ more. This proved a fmifhing ftroke. So many calamities, in fuch fwift fucceflion, treading upon the heels of each other, brought down the gray hairs of my aged pa- rent with forrow to the grave. Could ihe have been fpared to have witneffed the returning footfteps of the fon of her youth, a gleam of joy would have diffufedr its genial and folacing influence over her part- ing fpirit. But Heaven thought not beft, and ihe clofed a life, the forrows of which had accumulated with every added moment. What could induce Mrs. Arbuthnot to pen a mifreprefentation, calculated to pierce with fo keen a lhaft, the bofom of an aged and forrow worn fufferer, I can only conjecture. Probably (he might be influenced by her plan of palling the child for her own ; or, ihe might imagine that my mother,being inverted with the rights of a parent, would again demand the child, ihould the contin- gencies, peculiar to a foldier's life, remove Capt. Arbuthnot, whom it was well known (tiQ determined to follow, to a remote or foreign def- tination ; and it may be prefumed that flie made up the matter in her own mind, by a confideration that if ihe returned her neice to our vil- lage, the extreme age of my moth- er, would foon leave her deftitute of every natural guide. For me, after a long and debilitating fever, Vol. VI " E

obtaining a ftate of convalefcence ; youth, and a conftitution uncom- monly good, foon completed my reftoration. Thefameintereft which had before placed me on board an Eaft India fhip, procured me a fee* ond employment. I made feveral fuccefsful voyages. I accumulated riches, and, I at length faw myfelf pofTefTed of affluence. But alas ! tranquillity was not in the gift of affluence. In the variety by which I was furrounded my heart took no intereft, and it refufed to ac- knowledge a fecond attachment. Yet I determined to regulate my feelings by the dictates of fortitude, and to bend my wayward fpirit, to a ftate of acquiefcence, in the defig- nation of that God who ruleth in the heavens. I became a citizen of the world. I confidered myfelf born for the univerfal family, and, for the emolument of my fellow men, I induftrioufly made the moft of every acquifition. Under the influence of this fentiment I pro- ceeded in the career of life, and if my path produced not thofe high fcented perfumes, of which the ex- quifite fucceflion of domeftic enjoy- ments is fufceptible, I was, not- with ftanding, fo far favoured, as to obtain a degree of compofure* Thus rolled on fucceeding years, until upon an uncommon fine night, three months flnce, feeling no dif- pofition to retire to my chamber, I felt conftrained to devote an hour to a contemplative walk. Af- ter having drolled fome moments upon the road fide, I bent my fteps towards St. George's fields, and when there, with folded arms, and raifed eyes, I paiTed and repaiTed, experiencing an unufual kind of per- turbation. Methoughtthattheihade of my Margaretta accompanied my fteps. The ample heavens, the ftar- ry luminaries, the full erbed moon*

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MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

the blue expanfe ; thefe all com- bined to image the beauteous form of her, on whom fond remem- brance ftill regretting dwelt.

An afibciation of ideas gave birth to a wifn, to pafs fome moments be- fide a fketch of thofe waters, on which, bidding an eternal adieu to the injured fufferer, I had hereto- fore cruelly embarked. With rap- id movements toward Weftminfter bridge, I took my way, which, hav- ing reached, I defcended the fleps of the landing place, with an expe- dition for which I could not ac- count. But no fooner had I put my foot upon the third ftair, than an unufual dafh of the waters of the Thames, for which the ftillnefs of the night rendered it impoillble to afiign a reafon, ftill further accel- erated my progrefs. I hafted for- ward, and was only In time to feize by his garments, an unfortunate man, who had plunged into the ftream, with the unwarrantable purpofe of putting a period to his exigence. I remonftrated againft the atrocious audacity of the deed, that he had well near perpetrated, in terms expreffive of the horror which it infpired. For a time he preferved an indignant kind of ll- lence, and when he deigned to ut- ter himfelf, he breathed only ex- preffions of refentment, for what he termed my officious interpofition. It was manifeft that his reafon was difordered, and pity grew in -my foul. I addrefTed him in the 'lan- guage of commiferation, and he gradually became foftened and communicative. *« Generous ftran- ger," he exclaimed, " I give thee no mark of confidence in the brief recital, which as an apology for my fuppofed rafhnefs, your apparent commiferation demands. To him, who is refolved on death, the dif- clofure of fecrets which effect only

himfelf, can be of little importance. Know then, that born to affluence, I was bred a gentleman. Know alfo, that purfuing my pleafures in a neighbouring kingdom, I faw and loved a beauteous woman. I <wooed and <won hen Her parents were no more ; but her brethren, her fit ters, a numerous family, her for- tune, her country, her religion, all thefe flie forfook, and fled whV.' me to our Albion coaft. Indifcretion and misfortunes have robbed pne of every penny which I poffelTed. I have no means of obtaining the common neceffaries of life ; the few articles of which I have not yet difpofed, will not difcharge the debts already contracted. Thofe flatterers who bafked in the fun- fhine of my fortune, have now ut- terly forfaken me. My wife, my beloved wife, and her helplefs chil- dren, are reduced to the laft ex- tremity. I have left no means un- affayed, by which I could prefume upon relief ; but every effort hath proved ineffectual, and I have now quitted my Almira, with an exprelT- ed hope, for which, alas ! there is no foundation. She will expect me with the returning fun ; but ihe will no more behold me. I can no longer exift a witnefs of thofe ills, of which I have been the wretched caufe !" Need I add, that I was eager to fpeak, to this fon of for- row, the words of confolation : Confidering myfelf as the banker of the unfortunate, his draught up- on me was indifputable ; and the rays of night's fair emprefs, lent a light fufficiently ftrong, to evince the authenticity of its characters. I accompanied my new claimant,- now incredulous, and now frantic with joy, to his dwelling. I had determined to keep guard the re- mainder of the night. We entered foftly. His little family had re- tired

for JULY, 1794.

If

tired to reft. I infilled that he mould inftantly fpeak peace to his beloved. I infilled that he mould not revifit the parlour, until the rif- ing fun fhould enable me to com- mence my propofed arrangements. I will repofe, faid I, in this eafy chair ; or here are books, with which I may amufe myfelf. Awed by that tone of authority which I had afliimed, with looks of afton.- iihment, and the moil profound o- beifance, he left me ; and fleep be- ing beyond my grafp, I endeavour- ed to obtain fufficientcompofure to amufe myfelf by reading. I turn- ed over the books ; it would not do. A new and painful kind of agitation hurried niy fpirits ; at length a parcel of magazines feized my attention. I glanced confufed- ly upon the bundle. The MafTachu- fetts Magazine caught my eye, an American production 5 curiofity was enlifled ; 1 opened one and a- nother ; an irrefiftible impulfe ftill urged me on ; the firfb page of the Magazine for March, 1792, arretted my eye — " Blefs me, cried Marga- retta," you will recoil eel, Sir, that you thus commenced the enchant- ing narrative. The appellation Margaretta vibrated intereftingly upon my ear ; it was the fweet tal- ifman of a thoufand mingling fen- fations ; no power on earth could have prevented my reading on. I accompanied you in your journey to South-Carolina, and I entered with you the city of Charlefton. The little Margaretta's tap at the door pofTeifed a fafcinating power ; the introduction of the pretty cher- ub penetrated my very foul ; 4 waited impatiently for the hTue ; 1 attended at the bed of death ; but, great and good God ! what were, my fenfations when I learned from the lips of Mrs. Arbuthnot, the well known flory of my Margaretta's.

furTerings ; when I learned that the dear pledge of our facred loves was yet alive ! when I recognized her in the perfon of the little petitioner ; when I became allured that fhe had been received by fuch protectors ! I fhrieked aloud, wrung my hands, wept, laughed, proftrated myfelf in adoration of a preferving God 5 traverfed up and down the apart- ment, until at length impelled by perturbed anxiety, I was conftrain- ed to trace my daughter's wonder- ous fortune, through the various Magazines, which* until the clofe of the month of November laft, pre- fented themfelves in order before me. How did my full foul blefs her godlike benefactors I During, the connexion with Courtland, the mod tumultuous agitations tem- pefled my boforn ; but the cataltro- phe, I conceived, gave her honoured guardians a title to almoft divine, honors. Again, I became a prey to all thofe agonizing fears, which, can lacerate a father's heart. Ev- en of Mifs Clifford I muft confefs that I was not a little fufpicious j my feelings againft thee, my fon, were replete with indignation, and I bellowed upon thy iuppofed in- conftancy a parent's malediction. But November prefented the ex~ tatic ecclairciifement. I law thai- nothing was wanting, but what I poiTefTed abundant ability to fupply ; and, in broken, and almoft frantic ejaculations, I fobbed out my grat- itude. The dawn at length broke ; memorable, ever memorable night : Never, may I never, be forgetful of the events which thou produced ! An early hour prefented the now not defpairing Altamont. He led his Almira by the hand. I had cautioned him not to ihock the del- icacy o£ her feelings, by a. recital of the extremity to which he had been precipitated, and he had been dii-

42c~ MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

crete enough to follow my advice. He had fimply informed her that heaven had fent him a friend, and this information had proved fuf- fkient to excite the mod lively emo- tions. Altamont began a fpeech, exprefiive of his gratitude, but I cut him (hort, by decifively pro- nouncing, that fate had ordained me eternally his debtor. My dis- ordered countenance, and the ener- gy of my manner, alarmed him, and he in his turn became doubt- ful of my reafon. I gave him , hovv% ever, a fimple relation of facts. I held up the divine pages ; had I not met thee ; had I not confented to deliver to thee that dividend of our common father's intereft, with •which he has entrufted me for thy behoof, 1 had not met thefe bleifed records ; I had not received inteU ligence, which hath communicated to my foul immeafurable felicity, Thus amply hath our God rewarded me for defgning an aft of common jujiiee.

Graceful tears of rapture, it will not be doubted that we mingled, Every thing was fpeedily adjufted, to the complete fatisfaclion of Alta- mont, and his Almira. With the firft fhip, I embarked for America. The name of Colonel Worthington, of Newhaven, was my clew ; and I bore with me the heaven infpired Magazines. From Colonel Wor- thington I learned every neceuary particular. I was told, my fon, of your intended voyage, of the con- sequent anguiih of my daughter's

Errata. — In p. 354, ift col. nth 1. fr. b

foul. I blefs God that I am in time to prevent its profecution. Every individual mall receive his dues ; that good young man, your forbearing friend, the benignant Sey- mour— Every one f hail be happy !

in copy) — In p. 26i3 ad c. 1. 3d fr. t. for qualify, read gratify.

Unwilling to leave the curiofity of the reader ungratified, during the tardy revolution of another month, I have felt myfelf neceffi. tated to curtail the narrative of Mr. Melworth ; many ufeful ob* fervations are omitted, The fre- quent interruption, breaks, and paufes, occafioned by the fufcepti- bility of Mrs. Hamilton, and the agitation of her father ; the un- bounded and venerating gratitude of Edward ; the combining admi- ration, and rapt felicity of our whole party ; all this was in couife, and to every thing of this fort, I mull: repeat, that the filently expreffive touches of that vivid pencil, which is found in the glowing hand of fancy, can alone do juftice.

Already our young people have refumed their elegant family feat. Mifs Clifford is {till the companion of Margaretta. Amelia Worth- ington is now a congratulating viator at Hamilton place. Mr, Melworth is for the prefent a refi- dent in that fweetly romantic man- fion, and this very morning, the fecond day of July, one thoufand feven hundred and ninety-four, wit- neffing the birth of a daughter to Margaretta, hath feemed to com- plete our family felicity.

, after amicable infert compromife (omiffio»

DR. JOHNSON, Dr. Gold- fmith and others, were Tap- ping at a tavern in London. Dr. Qgilvie chofe for the topickofhis

N E C D O T E.

converfation, the praifes of his na-

tive country. Among; other things, he obferved that Scotland had a great many noble wild profpeas,

Dr,

for JULY, 1794,

4*\

Dr. Johnfbn replied — " I believe, Sir, you have a great many. Nor- way, too, has noble wild profpecls ; and Lapland is remarkable for pro- digious noble wild profpecls : But,

Sir, let me tell you, the nobleft profpecl, which a Scotchman ever fees, is the high road that leads him to England."

■^55SXS52^XS^»"

Voile EDITORS of fa MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

Gentlemen,

'The celebrity of Voltaire, *wbofe writings unite morality 'with an exhaufllefs fund of genuine humour •, will be a fufficient recQ?n?ne?idation for the infertion ef the following extraQfrom hir Pbilofophical Dictionary, in your entertaining Mufewi* A.

GLORY.

TJEN-AL-BETIF, that worthy pitiful Chiaoux and the fublime

fuperior of the Dervifes, one day faid to them, Brethren, it is very fit that you fhould often ufe that facred form of our Koran ; in the name of the moft ?nerciful God ; for God fheweth mercy, and you learn to praclife it by the frequent repetition of the words, recommend- ing a virtue without which there would be few people remaining on earth ; but, brethren, far be it from you to imitate the prefumption of thofe who are continually boafting that what they do is to the Glory of God. When a raw fcholar main- tains a thefis on the categories be- fore fome furred ignoramus of a prefident, he is fure to write in large characters at the head of his thefis, Ek aliha abron dox, Ad 7?iajo- rem Dei gloriam ; So a devout MufTulman, having caufed his fa- loon to be white wafhed, mud have the like folly over his door ; a Sa- ka likewife carries water to pro- mote God's glory. — This is a de- vout practice of a profane cuflom. What would you fay of a pitiful Chiaoux, who, when emptying our Sultan's clofe ftool, fhould bawl out, To the greater glory of cur invin- cible monarch ? Now certainly the difference is greater between the Sultan and God, than between the

Sultan.

Ye poor earth worms, called men, what have you in common with the Glory of the Infinite EfTence ? Can he defire Glory ? Can he receive any from you ? Can he enjoy it ? How long, ye two legged featherlefs animals, will you make God in your likenefs ? being yourfelves vain and fond of glory, God muft needs be fo too ! Were there feveral Gods, each of them would be defirous of the applaufe of his equals, and in that would confift the glory of a God. If infinite grandeur might be brought into a comparifon with the extremity of meannefs, fuch a God would be like king Alexander or Scander, who would enter the lifts againft kings only : But you, poor creatures, what glory can you give to God ? Forbear any longer to profane his facred name.

An Emperor, named Octavius Auguitus, ordered no panegyrics to be made on him in the fchools of Rome, that his name might not be debafed. But you can neither debafe nor exalt the Supreme Be- ing— Pro (Irate yourfelves and wor- ship in filence.

Thus fpoke Ben-al-betif, and the Dervifes (houted, " Glory to God ! well has Ben-al-betif fpoken."

The

425 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

for the MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

The S E N T I M E N

HENRY HARWOOD ! alas, with what mingled emotions of pity, pleafure, sorrow, anxiety and hope, do I hear thy name men- tioned ! What pleafing and what painful fcenes are recalled to my memory by the magic of the found ! I have feen thee bafking in the noon tide rays of magnificent prosperity ; I have feen thee struggling to ihake off the wearifome load of life in the murkieft gloom of mifery's vale, I have feen the hand of thy munifi- cence, of thy liberality, pouring forth the exuberance of bounty to cheer and comfort thy afflicted fel- low mortals ; I have feen thee poor and diftreffed — wet and cold, in the Shattered cottage of penury, fur- rounded by wretches, eagerly wait- ing thy last groan as the fignal to strip thy pallid corfe of its tattered clothing. I remember thy chari- ty, " which covereth a multitude of fins," and the remembrance is pleafing to my heart ; I remember the agonies in which thou did ft ex- pire, and my foul is melted with pity for thy forrows, and thy pains. I have feen thee bleffed by heaven with an abundance of the good things *f this life. But thy company was ehofen from among the gay and unthinking. Thy afibciates were vicious, and they hurried thee into fcenes of diffipation, which debafed the natural dignity of thy mind and enfeebled the energy of thy virtues. Though much of thy estate was given to make glad the widow's heart, to comfort the orphan and feed the poor with bread ; yet, how much, alas ! was wafted in unnec- essary profufion, and fcattered a- broad with criminal extravagance. / think on thefe things, and am farrow-

T A L i s T. No. n.

I have feen thee fpending thy* precious time in fcenes of riot and debauchery ; attending to the pam- pering of thy appetites and revel- ling in the luxuries of life. Sedu- lous to decorate thy body with coft- ly raiment, but inattentive to the improvement of thy mind or of thy heart. To drown the voice of confcience in the clamors of noify pleafure ; to eat and drink luxuri- ously, and outvie thy companions in their fafhionable vices and follies, was to thee, the thing needful.. I think on thefe things, and am anxious, Henry, concerning thy happiness in that world where no impurity can enter.

Yet, / hope. Thou hadft much charity,and the bleffings of the poor are thine. For thee lhall ceafelefs oraifons arife to the throne of that God, whofe darling attributes are MERCY and LOVE. Thy faults were the faults of youth — they pro- ceeded rather from an unthinking head than a depraved heart. Thy liberality was as unbounded as thy wifhes were benevolent, and thefe embraced in their regards the whole world of man. I think on thefe things, my friend, and hope com- forts my foul.

I have thus anatomized Henry Harwood's character, for the good of the youth of the present day. It, upon infpection, will be found, neither an unnatural nor an uncom- mon one. View in it, all the prin- cipal traits, which diftinguifn the man of the world. Thoughtless, gay, extravagant and luxurious. But mark ! View in it features, which seldom adorn the mere man, of pleafure. Benevolent and kind ; he waited not for the fight of an object in diflrefs to remind him of

his

for JULY, 1794-

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his duty, but he fought out mifery in her mod fcqueftered haunts, and converted the hovel of poverty into the cottage of contentment* Copy his virtue ! Shun his errors ! The one reduced him to wo and diftrefs, the other entitles him to a crown of glory. Think not I mean to jufti- fy the admiffion of foibles and faults into the heart, becaufe, in

the fame bofom, a virtue has chofen to refide. No. Nor think I ef- teem it neceifary to eradicate eyery Weed of vice from human nature, ere the rofe of virtue can bloom luxuriant. , To be liable to err, is the lot of humanity, and who will prefume to feek for an immaculate character below ? L,

{The following Oration, delivered on the day of PUBLIC COMMENCE- MENT, at Harvard Univerfity, we are happy to irfert in our Magazine. The applaufe with which its delivery was received ; the intrinfic excel- lence of the performance, and a wijh to make our Monthly Mufeum, in reality, a repofitory of knowledge and ufeful entertainment, unite in an inducement to prefent it entire, to the patrons of our publication. Happy in this opportunity of affording a delicious mental repaf, to the patriotic litera- ry epicure, we have, to indulge his laudable appetite, deferred the exhibition, ftffome difloes of letter flavour and importance, until our board requires them to fill up vacancies at fome future attic feflival.J

For the MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

An ORATION on ELO QJJ ENCE,

Pronounced at the Anniver/ary Commencement of Harvard Unherfity, in Cambridge, "July l6t8t 1794. By Josjeph Perkins, A. B.

THE excellence, utility, and Speech and reafon are the char- importance of eloquence ; its a&eriftics, the glory, and the happi- origin, progrefs, and prefent ftate ; nefs of man. Tbefe are the pillars and its fuperior claim to the partic- which fupport the fair fabric of el- ular attention of Columbia's free oquence ; the foundation, upon born fons, will exercife for a few which is creeled the mod magnifi- moments the already exhaufted pa- cent edirice, that genius could de-

tience of this learned, polite, and refpe&ed aflembly. Scnfible, as the fpeaker is, that while he at- tempts to recommend a fubject, worthy the nobleft efforts of the ableft. pens, his own defects will more ftrikingly evince the impor- tance of his theme, than any argu- ments which he can adduce ; though the well known difcernment of his hearers precludes the mod diftant hope of praife, yet their oft experi- enced liberality enfures a fafe re- treat from the terrors of unfeeling, cenforious cricicifm.

fign or art con (true!. To cultivate eloquence, then, is to improve the noblell faculties of our nature, the richeft talents, with which we are intruded. A more convincing proof of the dignity and importance of our fubjecl need not, cannot be ad- vanced.

The benevolent defign and the beneficial effects of eloquence, e- vince its great fuperiority over ev- ery other art, which ever exercifed the ingenuity of man. To inftrucl, to perfuade, to pieafe ; thefe are it's objects. To icatter the clouds

of

424 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

of ignorance and error from the at- mosphere ofreafon ; to remove the film of prejudice from the men- tal eye ; and thus to irradiate the benighted mind with the cheering beams of truth, is at once the bufi- nefs and the glory of eloquence. To promote the innocent and refin- ed pieafures of the fancy and intel- lect ; to drip the monfter vice of all his borrowed charms, and ex- pofe to view his native deformity ; to difplay the refiftlefs attractions of virtue ; and, in one word, to roufe to action all the latent energies of man in the proper and ardent pur- fuit of the great end of his exig- ence, is the orator's pleafing, be- nevolent, fublime employment.

Nor let it be objected, that elo- quence fometimes impedes the courfe of juftice, and fcreens the guilty from the punifhment due to their crimes. Is there any thing, which is not obnoxious to abufe ? Even the peaceful religion of the Prince of Peace has been made the unwilling inftrument of the great- eft calamities ever experienced by man. The greater the benefits which naturally refult from any thing, the more pernicious are its effects, when diverted from its prop- er courfe. This objection to elo- quence is therefore its higheft eulo- gium. The orator does not fuc- ceed, as fome would infmuate, by dazzling the eye ofreafon with the illufive glare of his rhetorical art, nor, by filencing her ftill fmall voice in the thunder of his decla- mation ; for to her impartial tribu- nal he refers the truth and proprie- ty of whatever he afferts or propo- fes. After fairly convincing the underftandmg, he may, without the imputation of difingenuoufnefs, pro- ceed to addrefs the fancy and paf- fions. In this way he will more effectually transfufe into his hearers

his own fentiments, and make every fpring in the human machine co- operate in the production of the defired effect.

The aftonifhing powers of elo- quence are well known, at Ieaft to thofe who are converfant in an- cient hiftory. Like a refiftlefs tor- rent it bears down every obftacle, and turns even the current of op- pofmg ignorance and prejudice in- to the defired channel of active and zealous compliance. It is indif- putably the moft potent art within the compafs of human acquirement. An Alexander and a Cefar could conquer a world ; but to overcome the paffions, to fubdue the wills, and to command at pleafure the inclinations of men, can be effect- ed only by the all powerful charm of enrapturing eloquence.

Having juft hinted at the excel- lence, utility and importance of eloquence, we are next to endeavour to mark its origin, and briefly trace its progrefs thence to the prefent period.

In the earlieft ages of the world the language of men, like that of other animals, was juft fufneient to enable them to warn each other of danger and to make known their mutual wants. By gradual im- provements in knowledge, and by the invention and cultivation of arts, both ufefui and ornamental, the powers of the human mind be- came better known, and language, the great vehicle of thought, and the foul of fociety, began to be ef- teemed an object deferring at- tention. The art of writing was invented, the ftock of words enlarg- ed, language reduced to rules, and found poffeffed of powers before unknown. Though it be more than probable, that oratory was known and cultivated in fome degree in thofe eaftern nations, where fci-

ence

for JULY, 1794.

425

tnce'Erft begali to dawn Upon the world, yet it was not till Greece be- came civilized and formed into dif- tinct governments, that it made its appearance in its native, peerlefs majefty* Here we may fix the era of eloquence ; here was its morn, here its meridian too, for here it {hone with fplendor never fince furpailed.

It is a common arid a juft re- mark, that eloquence can flourifh only in the foil of liberty. Athens was a republic* where the affairs of ftate were tranfacted in the affem- bly of the Whole people. This af- forded to eloquence a field too fer- tile to remain long uncultivated by the ingenious Athenians. Orators foon made their appearance, who did honour to language, to Greece, to humanity. But though the iiames of many have been tranf- mitted to us, whofe genius and elo- quence demand our veneration and applaufe ; yet, like ftars, when the fun appears, they are loft in the fu- perior blaze of the divine Demof- thenes. Kis ftory is well known. Though endowed with an excellent genius, he encountered almoft in- iuperable obftacles in his way to eloquence from fome natural de- fers in his perfon arid delivery. He perfevered till he had conquer- ed them all, animated by an invinci- ble ambition to mine an orator. Never, perhaps, were difplayed fuch indefatigable induftry, fuch obfti- nate perfeverance, fuch unremitting attention to the grand object of purfuit. His efforts were crowned with that fuccefs, which is the nec- eftary confequence of fo much ap- plication and care. Though the beginning of his career was pecu- liarly unpromifmg, for he was even biffed from the Sage on his firft public appearance, he afterwards became fo powerful an orator, that

Vol. FL ' F

he ruled even the fickle Athenians almoft as he pleafed. His exam- ple affords the greateft encourage- ment to ftudents in eloquence, as it proves, that by art, almoft in de- fiance of nature, a man may attain fuch excellence in oratory, as (hall ftamp his name with the feal of immortality. Demofthenes and the- liberty of Greece together expired ; and from this period we hear very - little more of Grecian eloquence.

Let us now direct our attention to that other garden of eloquence, the Roman commonwealth. Here, as in Greece* a free government opened the lifts to fuch, as wifhed to difpute the palm in oratory. Numbers advance, and contend manfully for the prize. But their glory is foon to fade, for Tully ap«r pears ; Tully, another name for eloquence itfelf* It is needlefs to enlarge on his character as an ora- tor. Suffice it to fay, that if we ranfack the hiftories of the world to find a rival for Demofthenes, Cicero alone can be found capa- ble of fupporting a claim to that diftinguifhed honor. The freedom of Rome and the life of Cicero to- gether fell a facrifice to cruelty and lawlefs ambition. Eloquence, as if unwilling to furvive her favourite, fon, feems with him to have taken her flight from this guilty world. For though France may boaft her orators, and England ftill dwell with rapture on the name of Pitt, and even America put in her claim, for a fcrap of praife, the eloquence of Demofthenes and Cicero, like the furprifmg fire of Callinicus, feems to be one of thofe arts, which were once known, but which are now forever loft to mankind.

The caufe of the great inferiori- ty of modern eloquence deferves a ferious inquiry. Can we plead thqj imperfections of the living lan- guages i

426 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

guages ? The noblefl productions of Greece and Rome do not per- haps furpafs fome, which our na- tive tongue can boaft. Shall we urge our want of genius ? Scarcely a branch of curious, ufeful or orna- mental learning can be named, in which the moderns do not at lead equal thefe fuppofed matchlefs an- cients. Is our lituation unfavoura- ble ? When did Greece or Rome prefent a fairer field for eloquence, than that which now invites the culture of die enlightened citizens d£ Columbia ? We live in a republic, the orator's natal foil ; we enjoy as much liberty, as is confident with the nature of man ; we poffefs as a nation all the advantages, which climate, foil and fituation can be- ftow ; and nothing but real ??ierit is here required as a qualification for the moll dignified offices of ftate. Never had eloquence more ample fcope. Why then does it not flourifii ? We blufh to affign the caufe. It is fhameful neglect, it is a want of ambition alone, which fuffers this fertile field to lie uncul- tivated. And fhall we reft fatisfied with only admiring, or at mod with following at an awful diflance the mod illuftrious orators of Greece and Rome, while our mechanics, our warriors, our patriots, our ftatefmen and our philofophers, put all antiquity to the blulh ? Shall every other ufeful and ornamental artfpeed fwiftly towards perfection, while oratory, that moft fublime of all arts, that art, which could ren- der one man more dreadful to a ty- rant, tharr hoftile fleets and armies, is almoft forgotten ? It muft not, cannot be. That refinement of tafte, that laudable ambition to ex- cel in every thing that does honour to humanity, which diftinguifhes the Americans, and their free and popular government, are fo many

fprings, which, though not inftanta- neous in their operation, cannot fail in time to raife Columbian elo- quence " above all Greek, above all Roman fame."

With pleafure we defcry the dawning of that bright day of elo- quence, which we have anticipated. The grand council of our nation has already evinced, that in this refpect, as in all others, our republic acknowledges no exifting fuperior. And we truft, that, as our facred teachers make it their conftant en- deavour to imitate the great learn- ing, the exemplary virtue, the ex- alted piety, and the extenfive uic- fulnefs, of the great apoftle of the gentiles ; they will not fail to re- femble him in that commanding, that heavenly eloquence, which made an avaricious, an unbelieving Felix tremble.

Too little has this moft impor- tant branch of public education been hitherto regarded. But we hope, that ere long our alma mater and our rifing country will realize in their largeit extent the long an- ticipated benefits of a. BoyT/hn't munificence. May eloquence be fo£ tered in this nurfery of literature and extend its benign influence to every department of fociety, till time and Harvard fhall together expire. May Columbia always af- ford more than one Demofthenes, to fupport the facred caufe of free- dom, and to thunder terror in the ears of every tranfatlantic Philip. May more than Ciceronian elo- quence be ever ready, to plead for injured innocence and fuffering vir- tue, and to carry confuficn and de- fpair to the heart of every infamous afpiring Anthony, of every reftlefs Catilinarian demagogue. Pvich as our country is of her own fund, and now adorned with the blighted gem in the literary cabinet of the

old

for JUL Y, 1794,

•Id world by the welcome arrival of a Pricjlley upon our ftjores from the ignorance, the bigotry, the bar- barity, the flavery, and the (laugh- ters of Europe ; we doubt not, that fhe will ere long be as much fupe- rior to all the nations of the earth in every ufeful art and fcience, in virtue and in happinefs, as (he now is in her conftitution of government, the equity of her laws, the wifdom of her rulers, and the good fenfe of her citizens. Warned by the fate of her predeceffors, may ihe efcape thofe quick fands of vice, which have ever proved the bane of em- pire. May her glory and her fe- licity increafe with each revolving year, till the laft trumph fhall an- nounce the cataftrophe of nature, and time fiiall immerge in the o- cean of eternity.

On this aufpicipus anniyerfary, when we are affembled to celebrate the birth day of our univerfity, thofe benevolentahdilluftriouscharacters, who firft planted the tree of fcience on this weftern fhore, and who have fmce added new vigour to its root by copious irrigations from thefoun- tain of their liberality, demand that tribute of refpect and applaufe, which the warmeft gratitude can infpire. While the name of Har? vard is already known almoft as far as his benevolence extended, his memory, like his bounty, mall blof- fom and bear fruit to' the remoteft period of time. When with a melancholy pleafure we recognife the fpot, which once fupported the princely munificence of a Siougkton, we are induced to indulge a hope, that a new and much wanted edi- fice will foon be graced with his revered- name. Hollis, whofe philan- thropy, not confined to the. ifle which gave him birth, cro/fed the wrde Atlantic and ftiowered its'

427

many bleffings on our alma mater, fhall live in the mouths and in the hearts of every future age. The name of Hancock is doubly dear to every grateful American. Can that name perifti, which has been twice ftamped on all thofe united virtues, which fall to the fharc of imperfect humanity ? The liberal- ity of an Alford, a Boylfton, a Hear-

fey, a Hubbard, an Erving, and a Cumings, \\A\\ rank thofe illuftrious characters among the great bene- factors of mankind. While free- dom, fcience, literature, and virtue, drop a tear on the urn of their vo- tary, their ornament, and their fup- port, every future generation " fhall rife up and call a Bowdoin blefT- ed."

From the gentler fex we behold a JDerby and a Holden rifing fuperior to thofe illiberal prejudices, which for a long time had almoft exclud- ed the faireft part of nature's works from the means of mental improve- ment, and with a dignity peculiar to great minds, overcoming evil

•with good by generous donations to our Univerfity. While their lib- erality reflects the higheft honor on themfelves and claims our warmeft gratitude, it at the fame time con- veys a fevere reproof to our too felfiih fex. Was female education fo long neglected becaufe it was fuppofed unneceifary ? It oue;ht however to be remembered, that the richeft diamond cannot be perfect. without the a'flifting poliih of art. Was the fair fex imagined incapa- ble of improvement ? What female genius can achieve, let a Phiienia. and a Warren to remoteft time de- clare.

May the worthy example of thofe, whofe names have been men- tioned, and of others, whom we cannot now particularize, prove an, effectual' itimulus to all, whofe fit-., nation.

428 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

uation and ability render it their duty and their privilege, <* to go and do likenvife."

This learned and brilliant affem- bly will be pleafed to accept thofe grateful acknowledgments, which their condefcending goodnefs de- mands. In the exuberance of their humanity they have extended not only their indulgence but even their applaufe to thofe efforts of youthful inexperience, which advance no other claim to their approbation, than the moft ardent wiihes to de- ferve it. And while the lovely daughters of Columbia deign to grace with their prefence this an- nual folemnity, and to confer even on imperfections the richeft re* wards of genius, their approving /miles, fain would we raife our fee- ble voice to lifp their praife. But we will not, we dare not profane

their facred merits by attempti the impoffibJe taffc of doing juftice to their worth. We can only add with equal fimplicity and confi- dence, that while nature, virtue, wit, and beauty, retain a charm, the matchlefs fair of this our weftcrn world will command the admira- tion of every eye, the loye and horn? age of every heart.

While gratitude to our literary fathers would prompt an effort to cxprefs to them our prefent fenfa- tions, delicacy and inability forbid the prefumptuous attempt. We muft therefore leave to more ex- prefhve filence to paint in proper colours thofe feelings of our hearts, which the moft perfect language could at heft but faintly adumbrate. We would only offer one fervent wifh, that their ufefulnefs may be commenfurate with their erudition, and their happinefs coextenfive with their benevolence, till heaven fhall claim its own, and crown their, vir- tues with immortal felicity.

My affectionate Clajfmaies,

The parting moment has arrived, This day dilTolves our claffic con- nexion. We now fland on the margin of life's boifterous ocean, ready to launch forth and explore the untried deep. What a flood of diffracting ideas rulhes at once on the mind ! The memory adds poig- nancy to our otherwife too -painful fenfations, by recalling all thofe pleafmg fcenes, which we have to- gether witneffed, and which, alas I are now no more. Qn the other hand, new objects are opening to our view, which employ at once our hopes and our fears.

" The wide, the unbounded profpecx lie*

before us ; «c But fhadows, clouds, and darlmefs, reft

upon it."

Kow fleet are the pinions of time ! Four years, which in antici- pation feemed almoft an age, have imperceptibly wafted us to the verge of our collegiate exiflence, and we are now called to pronounce a fad, and perhaps a laft, adieu !

Let us, ere we part, devote one moment to the calls of bleeding friendfhip ; let us give vent to one fir.cere though unavailing figh for the untimely fate of a worthy clalT- mate, Jacobs, our once e deemed Jaccbs>\ik<z a fair expanding flower, cropt by the ruthlefs hand of death, now fleeps in the filent manfion of the tomb ! While we love, while we revere his memory and drop a tear on his urn, let us emulate his many virtues, and like him we fhall be able to meet the grim meffenger, in our turn, with a fmile, which will diveft him of all his terrors, and. to hail him as our welcome convoy to the realms of uninterrupted and unending blifs.

May our mutual friendfhip, wjpch has been generated by four years

for JULY, 1794*

42.5

years familiar converfe, and which ibm$ trifling jars and momentary mifunder {landings have but the more ftrongly cemented, notwith- ftanding our neceifary reparation, remain forever firm and inviolate. May your fuccefs in all your future employments be ever equal to your

fuperior merits ; may your lives be ufeful to the world, happy and honourable to yourfelves; mayyour exit be peaceful and glorious ; may your memory live, till time itfel£ ihall die ; and may your felicity hereafter be boundlefs as immenfity and endlefs as eternity.

CLAUDINE: A Swiss Talb.

[From the French

HAPPENING in the month of July, 1788, to be at Ferney, which ever fmce the death of Vol- taire, has refembled one of thofe deferted caftles which were former- ly inhabited by genii, I refolved to pay a vifit to the famous glaciers of Savoy. A friend, an inhabitant of Geneva, had the goodnefs to ac- company me. In order to fuit the prefent tafte, it would be neceflary that I fliould adopt that ftyle, ex- alted, fublime, unintelligible to the profane, which a fentimental trav- eller, after he has advanced two leagues on his journey, cannot pof- fibly do without : I muft fpeak of nothing but my feeling, my fufcep- tibilities, and my extatic fenfa- tions ; but I muft confefs that thbfe phrafes, although now fo common, ftill found ftrange to my ears. I have feen Mont Blanc, the Frozen fea, and the Source of the Averon. I long contemplated in filence thofe dreadful rocks, cover- ed with hoar frcft ; thofe points of ice which pierce the clouds ; that large river which is called a fea, ar- retted in the midft of its courfe, whofe folid billows appear as if ftill in agitation ; that immenfe vault formed by the accumulated fnows of fo many ages, from whence there ifiues a foaming torrent, forcing in its courfe huge blocks of ice over the rocky precipices. The whole

of M. de Florian.] fcene impreiTed on my mind a min- gled fenfation of terror and melan- choly : Methought I beheld the horrid fcene of Nature, without a fun, abandoned to the fury of the god of tempefts.

Oh my good friend Gefner, yoa fang the lhady woods, the verdant fields, the limpid ftreams ; but fhepherds and rural fwains were never wanting to inculcate lefTons of love, of piety, or of beneficence. Reading y^ou, the pleafed eye runs over the landfcape which you have defcribed ; and the mind, ftill more delighted, is ameliorated by ufeful precepts, andenjoysa deliciouscalm. Such were the ideas that em- ployed my mind while defcending from Montanverd on my return from the frozen fea. After two hours of a painful journey, I arriv- ed at the fountain where I had refted in the morning. There I again wiihed to repofe myfelf ; for though I am no admirer of torrents, I am very fond of .foun- tains ; befides I was extremely fa- tigued. I entreated my brave and honeft guide, Francis Paccard, to fit down by me, and we began an excellent converfation concerning the manners, the character, and the mode of living of the inhabitants ofChamouny. I was pleafed with the good Paccard's account of thofe fimple manners about which it is

fe

.430 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

fo pleafmg to converfe, were it only to regret them, when a beauti- ful girl came and offered me a fcafket of cherries. I took them, and paid her for them. As foon as ihe was gone, Paccard faid to me, laughing, " About ten years ago, in this very fpot where we now are, at coft one of our young peafants Very dear for coming to offer a bafket of fruit to a traveller." I begged of Paccard to relate the flory. "It is fome what long," faid he ; "I have learned the mod minute circumftances of it from the curate of Salenches, who him- felf bore a confiderable part in it." I prefTed Paccard to relate to me what he had heard from the curate of Salenches ; and being both f,at- ed on the ground, leaning our backs againft two afh trees, and eating our cherries, Paccard thus began his tale :

THE TALE.

* YOU muft know, Sir, that eur valley of Chamouny, ten years ago, was not fo celebrated as it is now a days. Travellers did not then come to give us their gold for the fake of looking at frozen fnow, and picking up our pebbles. We were poor, ignorant of evil, and our wives and daughters, employed in the cares of the family, were ftill more ignorant than ourfelves. I mention this that you may have fome charity for the fault of Clau- dine. The poor child was fo fim- ple, that it was an eafy matter to deceive her.

*« Claudine was the daughter of old Simon, a labourer at Pricure *. This Simon, whom I knew well, for he has only been dead two years, was the Syndic of our parifh. All the country refpected him for his probity, but his character was nat-

urally fevere ; he pardoned noth- ing to 'himfelf, and very little to others ; he was equally efteemed and feared. If any of our neigh* bours had quarrelled with his wife, or drank a glafs too much on a holiday, he would not have dared to fpeak to Simon the whole week* When he paded, even the children flopped their noife ; they took off their hats, and never returned to their amufements till M. Simon was at a diftance.

" Simon had remained a wid- ower fince the death of Madelene his wife, who had left him tw<* daughters. Nanette, the eldeft, was well enough ; but Claudine* the youngeft, was an angel of beau- ty. Her handfome round coun- tenance— her black eyes, full of animation — her thick eye brows — her little mouth, the very picture of that cherry — her appearance of in- nocence and gaiety, made all the young men of our village, her ad- mirers ; and when on a Sunday fhe joined the dance, with a veft of blue cloth clofely fitted to her fine fhape, her ftraw hat ornament- ed with ribbons, and her little cap, which could hardly contain her beautiful hair, it was who fhoul4 have the honour to dance with Claudine.

" Claudine was only fourteen j her fifter Nanette, was nineteen,, and commonly remained at home to look after the affairs of the fam- ily. Claudine, as being the young- eft, took care of the flock which grazed on Montanverd. She car- ried with her her dinner and her diftaff , and pafTed the day in fing-. ing, in fpinning or chatting with, the other ihepherdeffes. In the evening fhe came home to Simon, who read fome portion o{ the Bible to his daughters, gave them his bleffing,

The principal village of the valley of Chamouny.

for JULY, 1794*

43 1

Welling, and then all the family went to bed.

« About that time Grangers be- gan to vifit our glaciers. A young Engliihman of the name of Belton, the fon of a rich merchant of Lon- don, in pafling through Geneva to go to Italy, had the curiofity to make the tour of Chamouny. He {topped at Madame de Couteran's,* and the next day, at four o'clock in the morning, he afcended Montan- verd to fee the frozen fea, conduct- ed by my brother Michael, who is now deacon of the guides. He returned about eleven, and refted himfelf, as we do, by the fide of this fountain, when Claudine, who tended her iheep juft by, came to offer the fruit and milk ihe had for her dinner. The Engliihman thanked her, looked at her very at- tentively, and offered her five or fix guineas, which Claudine refu- fed ; but poor Claudine did not re- fufe to take Mr. Belton to fee her flock, which ihe had left among thefe lofty trees. He defired the guide to wait for him, and depart- ed with Claudine. He was abfent for two long hours. As to the fe- quel of their converfation, I cannot indeed repeat it to you, as nobody heard it. Itisfufficienttoknowthat Mr. Belton fet out the fame even- ing, and thatClaudine on her return home to her father, appeared pen- five and melancholy, and had on her finger a beautiful emerald which the Engliihman had given her. Her fifter afked her where ihe got that ring : Claudine an- fwered ihe had found it. Simon, with a difcontented air, took the ring, and carried it to Madame de Couteran, in order to difcover the perfon who had loft it. No travel- ler ever claimed it. Mr. Belton was already far off, and Claudine, to

whom the emerald was reftored, be- came every day more melancholy. " Five or fix months thus paiTed away. Claudine, who every even- ing returned with reddened eyes, at length refolved to confide in her fifter Nanette, She confeifed that the day ihe met Mr. Belton on Montanverd, Mr. Belton had told her that he was in love with her-— that he meant to fettle at Chamou- ny, never more to leave it, and to marry her. " I believed it," added Claudine, " for he fwore it to me more than a hundred times. He faid, that bufinefs obliged him to return to Geneva ; but that in a fortnight he would again be here — * that he would buy a houfe, and that our marriage fhould take place immediately. He fat down befide me, called me his wife, and gave me this beautiful ring as a token of our marriage. I dare not tell you any more, my fifter, but I have many fears ; I am very ill ; I weep all day ; in vain do I fix my eyes on the road to Geneva, there is no appearance of Mr. Belton I"

11 Nanette, who was juft marri- ed, prefted poor Claudine with quef- tions ; at length, after many tears, ihe learned that the Engliihman had bafely betrayed this firnple and unhappy girl, and that Claudine was with child.

" What was to be done ! How was it poftible to announce this mi£ fortune to the terrible M. Simon ? To conceal it from him was impofii- ble. The good Nanette did not aug- ment the defpair of her fifter by ufe- lefs reproaches : She even endeav- oured to confole her by exprefting hopes of a pardon which ihe knew would not be obtained. After long confederation, Nanette, with her cpiifent, went to find our good cu- rate, and confided to him the whoh fee ret — ■

The well known name of the saiftre§ of the rao/l ascient km at Chamouny.

432 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

fecret— -begged him to mention it to her father — to endeavour to ap- peafe his wrath, and try to fave the honour, or at leaft the life, of the unhappy viclim of deceit. Our cu- rate was much hurt at the news j he however, undertook the talk, and repaired to the houfe of Simon at the time he was fure Claudine would be upon Montanverd*

" Simon was as ufual reading the Old Teftament. Our good cu- rate fat down by him, and began to talk of the beautiful (lories which are contained in that divine book j he dwelt particularly on that of Jofeph when he pardons his breth^ ren — on that of the great king Da- vid when he pardons his fon Ab- falom, and many others I do not know, but are well known to the curate. Simon was of the fame o- pinion. The curate faid, that God had given us thofe examples of mer- cy, that we in like manner, being companionate to others, might at the laft day, expect to find mercy from the Father of all. All this was faid in a much better manner than I can tell it to you ; but you may eafily perceive that our curate endeavoured to prepare the old man for the reception of his bad news. He was long of comprehending him — at laft he did, and ftarting up, pale, and trembling with rage, he feized the mufket with which he ufed to hunt the chamois, and was rulhing forth to kill his daughter. The curate threw himfelf upon him, and difarmed him ; and by roufmg his attention to the duties of a Chriftian, by lamenting his misfor- tunes, and iharing in his grief, he at length prevailed fo far, that old Simon, whofe eyes had been hith- erto dry, his lips pale, and his whole frame convulfed, funk back into his chair, covered his face with his two handstand burft into tears.

"The curate allowed him t$ weep for fome time without faying a word ; at length he wilhed to confult with him relative to the meafures it was neceffary to take, in order to fave the honour of Clau- dine j— but Simon interrupted him ; " Mafter curate," faid he, " it is impoflible to fave that which is loft — ^every means we could take would render Us more culpable, by obliging us to telljies. The un- happy wretch mud no longer re- main here ; fhe would be the fcan- dal of us all, and the puniihment of her father ! let her be gone, maf- ter curate ; let her live, fince infa- my can live, but let me die far dif- tant from her : Let her depart this Very day — (he muft leave this coun- try, and never let her again prefent herfelf before my gray hairs, which fhe has difhonoured."

" The curate tried to foften Si- mon, but his efforts were in vain. Simon repeated the pofitive order for the departure of Claudine. Our good old curate was going away in fadnefs, when the old man ran af- ter him, brought him back into his apartment, and (hut the door ; then putting into his hand an old purfe of leather, containing fifty crowns, * Mafter curate," faid he, " this wretch will be in want of every thing. — Give her thefe fifty crowns, not as from me, but as a charity from yourfelf — tell her that it is the goods of the poor, which com- panion induces you to beftow on vice ; and if you could write to a- ny one in her favour, or give her a letter of recommendation — I know your goodnefs, and I neither wifh to hear, or to fpeak any more about her."

" The curate anfwered him by a

fqueeze of the hand, then ran to

meet Nanette, who was waiting for

him in the ftreet, more dead than-

alive*

for JULY, 1794.

433

alive. " Go inftantly," faid he, «« and pack up all your fitter's clothes, and bring them to my houfe." She obeyed with tears in her eyes, being hut too fure of what had happened, and put into Clau- dine's bundle the little money fiie was miftrefs of. She then returned to the curate, who related to her the converfation he had with Simon, and gave her a long letter for the curate of Salenches, and laid to her, «' My dear child, you mult this ve- ry day conduct your fifter to Sa- lenches ; give her this purfe, and this letter to my good brother. Accompany her to the village and then return to your fa- ther, who has occafion for your wif- dom and virtue to lefTen the chagrin produced by the conduct of your filter." Nanette, fighing, went in queft of her fifter on Montanverd. She found Claudine ftretched weep- ing on the ground ; — but when (he heard that her departure muft be immediate, (he fcreamed, and tore her hair, repeating continually, " I am banifhed with my father's curfe ! Kill me ! my fifter, kill me ! or I will throw myfelf over this preci- pice." Gradually fhe became more calm, by promifmg that things might ftill be made up, At length Claudine refolved to fet out, and at nightfall they took the road to Sa- lenches, avoiding our village, where, notwithftanding the darknefs, poor -Claudine would have thought l?hat every one faw her crime painted in her face.

" It was a melancholy journey, as you may eafily imagine, nor did they arrive till break of day. Na-

The REPOSITORY. No. XXII.

October, 1775. T is moft true — woes do indeed yet wet upon my cheek fcr a beau* clufter woes. While the tear is teous fifter, I am. called to mourn Pol* VI. G &*

nette took her leave of Chudine be- fore they entered the village, and, after pr effing her a long while to her bofom, left her. being nearly as miferable as her unhappy fifter.

" As foon as Claudine found herfelf alone, all her courage de- ferted her ; (he hid herfelf in the mountain, and pafTed the whole day without taking any nonriihment ; but when the night drew on, her fears forced her towards the village, where (he inquired for the houfe of the curate, and knocked foftly at the door, which was opened by an old houfekeeper. •

" Claudine faid me came from M. the curate of Prieure. The houfekeeper led her directly to her mailer, who was then alone, eating his fupper by the corner of his fire. Without uttering a word, or lifting her eyes, Claudine, with a trembling hand delivered the letter, and whilft the curate drew near the light in or- der to read it, the poor girl cover- ed her face with her hands, and dropped on her knees near the door. The curate of Salenches is a good and a worthy man, and is re- fpecled as a parent by his whole pariffi. When he bad finifried the letter, and turning his head faw this young girl on her knees, and bathed with tears, he alfo wept* He rarfed her, praifed the fincerity of her repentance, gave her hopes of a pardon for a fault that had coft her fo many tears, and obliged her to eat in fpite Of her refu&f, and call'ng his governefs, defired her to prepare a bed for Claudine, (lo be continued.)

1

434 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

the exit of £ friend, whofe meliora- ted worth, was of many years the rich and luxuriant growth. Yes, fhe too is gone — -death hath clofed the fcene, and from my tearful view, my dear Elmira, hath forever fled ! How long did 1 indulge hope ; how Men to the flattering delxrder ! Of the inveftitures of this phantom, even the fatal predicKon&of the phy- iicians could not defpoil me, and my ardent and trembling foul exclaim- ed, fhe mutt, fhe will be reftored to the fervid wifhes of her fupplicat- ing friends. But thefe pleafmg il- lusions are now difnpated ; imagin- ation can no more embody them. Her anointed fpirit hath indeed es- caped, and the palm of victory is already her's. Yes, it is too true : Never again lha^l thefe eyes behold thee, my almoft fanltlefs friend. How fteadywasthy foul, how af- fectionate thy bofom, and how warm thy regards ! — By every tie of tender friendship thou wert mine, and the fame blood which flowed in our veins, was diftinguifhed but as the fanction for our fond attach- ment. In thy bofom, with unbrok- en confidence, I could repofe my gvery though v the infoioft wifhes

of my foul. Retired with thee* hi- tne faloon of amity, my heart was difrobed before thee. Dear, fac- red: haunts, may my feet no more revifit them, fmce their beloved miftrefs hath taken her flight from thofe once peaceful abodes ; from thofe feenes of p'aft pleafure, let me /till continue forever eft'ranged. Sweet and delicately fufceptible fuf- ferer, few were the white hours of thy life' ; — -but thou art now at reft in the bofom of thy God. How ferene were her parting moments, how perfect* the refignation of her foul, and how ftrong her affiance in the Redeemer * Anxiouily I watched a- round her bed of death, induttriouf- ly turning my eyes from every fatal fymptom ; but the agonies of difc folvin'g nature commenced ; they were terrible to view ; the fevering angel cut the thread of mortality ; her guardian fpirit received my friend, while with defp-airing ken I in vain endeavoured to explore her tracklefs way. Alas ! alas ! what a defpoiler this October, 1775 ! How hath it broken in upon, and rifled my hoard of joys !

CONSTANT! A.

-<:«S*3S5£iS^=*-

For 1ht MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZHJ2.

The MEMORIALIST. No. III.

« tr KNOWLEDGE, fays an fci- AX. genious author, is as pleaf- ant to the underflanding as light to the eyes." The excellency of this obfervation is- confirmed by the tes- timony of ages. Nothing is of more advantage to the mind than to keep it in a continual ftate of action. But the daily employ- ments of life, by fixing the atten- tion fteadilyon one point, would ex- hanft the fpiri's and impair the confutation. This arifes from the

formation of man. The divine Author of our exiftence has made us- capable of receiving a variety of information through the inlets ©f the fen'fes. How different arc the pleafures of the eye and the ear ! The organs of perception being fo various, the foul mult abhor uni- formity. How delightful is it then to retire occafionally from the world, and to reft on the pleafmg fpeculations of knowledge ! Be- fides, the mind has a natural incli- nati oa

for JULY, 1794.

43 S

.Station for fomething vail and infi- nite. Lord Bacon, who muft be allowed to be a genius of the firft magnitude, ufes this as an argu- ment to prove the capacioufnefs of the mind. Do we not then do in- juftice to our natures when we confine our refearches arid deny ourf elves the acquisition of fuch exalted enjoyments ? But are the elegant arts and fciences conducive to no other good purpofe than mere amufements ? Their influence on |the moral character isextenfive. By them a delicacy of fentiment is cre- ated which ihrinks like the fenfitive plant from every fordid concep- tion.— An admirable connoiffeur in painting or poetry will be found to ufe the fame delicacy hi the choice of his friends or companion's^ as he would in the Selection of a beautiful picture or poetical per- formance. The fcientific foul feels a magnanimous contempt for the misfortunes of life. A man pofiefT- ed of this talifman can look from the eminence of his mind and be- hold the world groveling beneath him. Such high principles pre- ferve to the (rate many invaluable citizens. Otherwife genius might be proftituted to the bafeftpurpoies, and cringe like a flatterer before the throne of a monarch. But the fame proud fpirit which fpurns the fordid purfuits of felt intereft will forever defpife the low deiigns of ambition.

But before I proceed I will take notice of a favourite Creed of fome •writers, which is in fact a rank ab- furdity, though varniihed with a plautible pretext. It is afferted," that when our knowledge difcover 5 to us the weaknefs or imperfection of Our natures, ignorance is innV nitely preferable. This is building' ,on an unfubftantial bails. Every; rational being mull .conclude, that

the happinefs of mankind depends not on a feclufion from misfortunes, but from poiitive fruition. A fa- miliar intercourfe with human ca- lamities may make us more fenli- ble of the misfortunes of life, but by exerciling the focial affections it will encreafe our felicity in the fame ratio. It is abfurd to fuppofe man capable of no greater degree of happinefs than the brutiih creation. A bare unacquaintance with mifery is all the pleafure they po/Tefs, which is very remote from pofitive enjoyment. But while we con- template the fuperior worth and ex- cellency of a literary genius to the reft of mankind, let us not: confound him with the literary; coxcomb. Florio gives us a pe- dantic difplay of all his knowledge on all occafions. He remarks with much gravity, that happinefs is the purfuit of all men, and proves it by a long quotation from Cicero.. He obferve's that wine is pleafani to the tafte, and fupports his affer- tion by the authority of Horace. Or if he {tumbles on morality, he obferves that Vice is deteftable, and that Virtue, as tke divine Plato ex? preffes it, if (lie fhould appear in her natural drefs, would make all man- kind enraptured with her beauties. The mod trifling and commonplace obfervations mult be proved by fome pompous quotation.

Shall I be thought to refine too^ much, if I 'aflert that the happinefs of man, both in proi'perity andadver- iity, is heightened by a reliih for the arts and fciences ? Iriadverfity the man of fcience may derive confo- lation from' reflecting that the greatest and heft of men in all ages, have undergone iirailar viciffitudes/ Surely, the very thought of (baring the fame fate which Socrates onee fhared, mint kindle in the mind a foYereign contempt for its horrors," ** That

43^

MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

"That faint, with a countenance of triumph, entered the walls of his prifon and banifhed ignominy from the place ; for how could that afy- lum be called ignominious while the glory of Athens was there .?" Yet even thefe are not the only fources of confolation which will fugged themfelves to a reflecting mind. As mankind are compofed of onegreat community, there muft be as great a variety of oppofuie iuterefts. From whence the literary man may fairly infer, that, even. by his own misfortunes, the great deilgns of nature are promoted. In a reverfe of circumMances in the golden hour of profperity this fame reflection will guard him from a proud and oftentatious difpofi- tion. When he reHecls that his own fortune may be built on the misfortunes of his fellow men, his heart will be humanized, his mind touched with pity, and his munifi- cence extended to objects of diftrefs. Finally, in whatever fituatjon Prov- idence may place him, he will feel himfelf contented and happy. He ■will behold the fame fun hung in the centre of the fyftem ; the fame moon and (lars will fparkle in the concave of heaven — He will find the fame great principles of nature flowing through the fame channels, but varied according to the infinite modifications of civil fociety. But does not the humble peafant enjoy thefe advantages ir. as much per- fection as the greateft philofopher * No, he may be converfant with the fame objects but is debarred from

the faculty of enjoying them. Science muft refine the foul before it can receive the impreffion.

Indeed, inwhatever light we view literature, it feems to have been highly favoured by the patronage of heaven. Who could have be- lieved when the Goths and the Vandals fwarmed from the North and invaded Europe, when every principle of learning was loft in the general devaftation, that the tapers pf knowledge would ever have been reluminated ? But after the lapfe pf a few centuries, the dark monkifh ages of fuperftition difappeared ; the abfurd tenets of Bopiih infalli- bility, and all the rant and rhapfo- dy of dengnirig enthufiafts, thofe foes to learning, were expofed to public indignation. A numerous concatenation of events, the moft furprifmg of any recorded in hif- tory, rapidly fucceeded, and finally ufhered in the refurreclion of litera- ture. In the prefent enlightened age, our country calls for the exer- tions of her nobieft citizens. Of- fices of ft ate are opened indifcrim- inately to all who may claim a part by the preeminence of virtue. A crown, that glittering bauble, ceafes to delude — no longer do the people pay homage to the ftar or the garter. Such vain and empty delufions are loft in the majefty of genius and merit. If the youth of this country would but nobly exert themfelves in the acquisition, pf fcience, America would juftly be confidered in literature, as fhe is in politics, the glory of the WORLD,

^®>^^$$p-ff<§>Jf&t

A N

the fiege

E G

DURING the fiege of Valen- ciennes, a gentleman afked a Colonel of a Britifh Regiment of " How the befiegers man-

Militia-

D O T E.

aged to deftroy the men in the Zigzags ?? The reply from the in- telligent warrior was, "By having crocked artillery to be fure."

CABINET

CABINET of APOLLO.

A P O E M,

fammemorative of Goffe, tV&4J.JSff and

Bixwell.

f Concluded from page 37 6- J

W HALEY and Goffe to Maffachu- fctts fteer ; The young applauding ftate would fain fecure : E'en then a liberal will exifled 'here,

And equal rights were dejlind to endure. EdicSts condemn the exil'd regicides ; They learn their fentence with unal- ter'd mien ; ;I>iverfe emotion different minds divides-— Alarm would immolate and pity fcreen.

Prcvail'd upon by fuch as fought their weal, Long lurk'd the world's great citizens unieen, Oblig'd their haunts continual to conceal, And e'er forego the be ft delights p£ men.

Itinerant next, the weftern wilds they

trae'd,

Till reach'd Connecticut's extended

ftrand, [wafte,

Where freeborn fpirits had explor'd the

And Providence decreed that Yale

fhould ftand.

With zealous promptitude, the enamour'd town [love,

Confole their hearts in fympathetic Until to foes, at length, the afylum known, Their counfellors confent to their re- move.

Awhile the reverend DAVENPoiiTfecretes ;

Now Jones provides a fubterraneous grot, With generous gladnefs charitably treats,

And oft admits them to his humble cot.

Confhain'd e'en hence and where com- pell'd purfu'd, Nor knew they where to reft, aor where to roam ;

Now fearch'd a fiielter m a trackle& wood, Now made a trufty peasant's hut the!? home. Thus fuffer'd they what Jesse's righteous fon From Sawl receiv'd, (the meed of Israel fav'd ;) While frauds || in friends, like watchful Jonathan, Accomplifh'd for them whatfoe'er they prav'd. Though hunted flill, fubmiflive to endure What heav'n's high will ordain'd of future griefs ; To Hadley laft they take their nightly- tour, [chiefs. And reverend Russel entertains the

Rare man ! difinterefted, benevolent ! (Bleft as was Rahab by the Hebrew fpies ;) Thy hofpitable houfe with aliment, With folace thy condolent heart fup- plies.

Dixwell explores the far remov'd re- treat, Once join'd in league and now alli'd in lofs ; i Recogniz'd mutually with joy they meet; Here live reclufe from other intercourfe*

But

|j When Governor Endicot, to avoid iri~

curring the charge ofdifobedietue, ivas apparently

I trying to have them difcovered, he endeavoured it

| Jbould be thought they had quitted the country, and

' wrote home, that he believed they had gone to the

Dutch at Nlanhadoes, and thence to Holland.

Randolph , fent over afterwards to obtain inoiv

ledge of them, was informed by Bradjlreei, then

Governor, they had net been heard off nee leaving

New Heaven. While concealed there, likezvife,

reports were intentionally propagated, that they

had left the place and p ajjfed North wafd ; in con-

fequence of which Kirk and Kellond ccntinued

their rout in ikat direclion.

433 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

But Dixwell felt the force of human ties — Him to Quinnipiak * led the focial flame ; A borrow'd appellation gave difguife ; He reared a family and rofe to tame.

The pair colleagu'd remain fequefter'd ftill, Nor fee of Adam's race nor e'er axe feen, Save when they fuccour the affaulted vill, f Or, with familiars clps'd, for prayer con vexi e. Russel, with thee, 1 >ng years thy guefts fojourn, Thy pious hands are ftretch'd to feal their eyes ; Thy tears devotional their exit mourn,

Thy lips perform their fecret obiequies So when high-favour'd Pifgah's top fuf tain'd The humble hoar-grown fervant of the Lord ; The feer. (furvey'd the promis'd land- fcape) jjain'd An unknown tomb, by hands divine ifiterr'd- Nor !efs the chiefs (that ftrong in faith they Hv'd Let ftill their lines ep;ftolar \ atteft ;) In profpect., plain from prophecy, per- cetv'd A future age fuperlatively bleft.

* The original Indian name of N"eiv Haven.

■f The following anecdote is traditional at Uadley : The fettlement there, being attack d iy Indians, in 1 6 "5, during public woifhip.. •were put in conjlernation and entirely routed. Immediately a venerable old perfonage appeared, reconnoitered the people, and lead them on to vic- tory. Their angelic preferver, as fiddenly , dif- appeared, and the femingly fupernatural phe- nomenon could never be explained.

\ Among their papers, luhich, after their death, ivere collecled and lodged in a library in Bojlon, are extant many copies and originals of let- ters to and fromtheir friends remaining in England. Thefe breathe ivarmly the fpirit of piety, but are tinctured a little ivith the fuperflition of the times. They ivere f.r:nly perfuadtd that the execution of the judges ivds the flaying of the ivitnejfes, and, from calculations upon the proph- ecies, had formed great expectations of the year 1 666, and -when it was paft without any extraor- dinary revolution^ they believed the Chriflian <st i to bs erroneous. Hu tchix 3. hiftory .

Perhaps, their mortal warfare near an t&d9

With death alone the combat left tu

wage ;

Afweeter antepaft the Omnifcieatdeign'd,

In vifions, Gabriel gives the fure pre?

fage:

.** Champions of earth, and candidates for ^ heav'n ! " Life's dark defcendforg rale ye tread fubmifs ; " For you a gofpel-lighted path is giv'n "To bright domains of everlafting blifs.

" Enough to injur'd Britain has been paid j

" Her longer fubjugation is decreed j " Might it have been' annulfd by hums* aid, E'en by thine aid Britannia had been freed.

" In vain thy arm effay'd the Herculean

toil, [fence j

" In vain thy counftls drove in her cte-

' The foil ypy prefs is freedom's natal foil,

"Ana ber redemption muft redound,

frpni hence.

' Her kmg, a century more revolv'd, fliaU

aim

" To crufh this land, the foot-ftool <j£

his throne;

1 A race felt govern'd fhall refent th,2

claim, [own.

" Its proper lords fhall vindicate their

' Their generous warmth fhall Gallia's fons infpire ; " The fparks difTus'd extenfively illume; l( While heads imperial plod to pen the^ fire, "Their diadems the glowing fume* confume. " The nation d empire, ancient feuds for- got, [prize ; " Excites the Englifh realm to like em- " By her enfranchis'd, other flatcs are taught " Themfclves and fifter flates to en-» franchife. " Stanislaus, fole of Europe's crown'ji competis, [throng; " Would raife to citizens the p ebeian " As bale alike, his arduous fpirit fears, " Or to be fore'd to right, or fore'd ta wrong : ;< And though the emprefs cf the Mufcc/- vies, [deftroy, § " In zenith pride, would fain the grant " While

§ So greatly was the kingdom abridged by the extraordinary partition cf its mo/l valuable nrri-

tcrict

for JULY; 1794.

439

* While la'fts thy memory, matchlefs Pole,

.. the prize " Thy tnanumittid millions fhall enjoy. " Still wider fpreads the genial glorious blaze, ? And repercuffive brightens as it runs,

* Till ihines religion's rea'bn's general

rays [fons.

" On each of India's, each of Afric's

* The triple crown forfakes the pontifF'3

brows, <* The Inquifition*s rage no more en- dures ; ** A confeiene'd clergy tolerance fhall ef- poufe, u Eftrang'd from fceptres and from finecures.|| " Opinions heterodox revert to right—— " Scripture alone {hall! fway the irifel- fe£; •* No party persecutes its oppofite,

" And zealots ceafe to conftitute afecl.

s* Nor bigots bind, nor potentates opp-refs,

" Butlight, and love, and liberty a-

bounds, [climes poflefs,

* From where mankind the Arctic * K To where the Antarctic * zone the

world fun ounds.

" Now Abraham's profelyted feedreturflj " The recoUedled tribes adore the

Lame —

" One faenfice the union'd earth fhaU bi:rn, il And, hufh'd in concord, hymn Jeho- vah's name."

fories ieliveen the Ruffian, Germanic and Pruff- an poivers, tube unitedly invaded it in 1 7 7 2, &at tuh:n his prefent Polifh majejly -was lately relin'quijb'ng his otvn influence to e{fe£l a confiitu- tion from principles of equality r fuch abfolute con- trol had the Czarina Catherine, that fie com- fcllid him to refume hisfuperiority, to exijl, how- ever, only as her titled •Vajf.il. But thus much his fubje&s have already gained by his exertions — they are no longer transferable, lifee com?non properly , and, beginning to know, they begin to ap- preciate the inviolable enjoyments and privileges «f Man.

[| The cflablifimenf of benefices and dignitaries in the church, and its unnatural connexion ivith

fecuht authority, have produced the fin arm of •worldly and imperious ecclefafiics, that has converted relivion, originally benign, into an in-

fi'rument of fraud, perf.cution and cruelty.

Let but its minifien be divefied of magifira- cy, and let their perquifites be moderate and equa- ble— duty then induces them to the ficred of^ce ; their precepts are incorrupt, their exombte emi- nent. Su.h z church efiMfimcat irradi- ates America.

* * All the habitable par's of the globe are contained bet tv?tn the Arclic and Antarctic cir- cles.

For the Massachusetts Magazine. COMELAH : A Fragment.

Quern virimy nut heroa, lyra vel acri Tibia fumes ceiebrare, Clio ?

§>-uem Deum ?— ■

HORACE. ODE XII,

O'ER heaven's bright azure roli'd the deep'ning clouds, And mifty darkneis fpread her fombre

veil. The fun retir'd and hid his golden rays ; The fun retir'd and blufh'd upon the

earth. In horrid gloom all nature was involv'd ; And palid terror {hook the thinking

world. The turtle mourn'd, and fcreech owl's

hidious voice Reechcr'd horror 'midft the ru filing grove. When Co/n lab's ghoil approach'd lco-

nah's cell ; From the blue hills He bore his 'erial way, As blazing liars, that cleave the frowning

air, And 'wake to thought each gazing, tor- pid foul. His eyes gleam'd meteors thro' the dar'k

expanfe, His fhield be.Wd glory, and his fpeat

wav'd light. A robe celeftial o'er his fhoulders flow'd, And curling, hung in treffes on the breeze. [He trod like waters rolling to their fhoret Like horfes ruihing to the found of w;.: } At his approach the livers ctas'd their

nbife ; The wind was calm, and fil'ence reign'd

around. Up from their facred tombs arofe the

forms Of faints departed and of heroes dead. They rofe to "hear the counfeh ofth<f

brave ; The words, of Com'Iah, their beloved

chief.

Reding upon Iconah/s moffy cave, The much rever'd Comelah thus began.

Hear, faints, and mighty heroes of the field ; For Bauionis with his warlike band

la

443 MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE,

la fallen anger leave their peaceful domes, And down the hiil impetuous bear their

way, [deer.

As leaps the hound towards the trembling Ther fore Iconah blow thy hollow lhell ; And flrike on Fingal's fhield the found of

war. Collect thy ftrength within Caduthor's

vale, [bow

And range the nervous, children of the Upon the fteep, that over looks the field. Speak to thy warriors of their fathers*

fame, Paint out the glory of our younger days, And make their youthful fouls exult with

j°y»

Till their eyes beam withluftre likethe fun, And their hearts leap rejoicing to the tight.

ALCADOUR.

For the 'Massachusetts Magaznc. INDEPENDENCE : An Ode.

Progenitm LIBERT ATIS canemus. By the Same.

ONCE more an anniverfal day Invites the rural poet's lay; Invokes an independent fong. Columbia's children join the found; Bach freeman's heart with joy rebound, And halelujahs bur ft along.

From fhore to fhore, from port to port ; From hill to dale, from vill to court ;

From north to fouth, from eaft to weft ; From ' ifhfippi's curling tide, And old Miammi's waving pride,

Afcend the found that marks us bleft. Beneath the olive branch of peace, "Which, God prolong and man increafe,

Our country grows and fame extends ; May filler France ne'er be bereft Of thi? celeftial, facred gift,

Which with it blifs unceafing blends.

May file an independence fee, And be forever bleft and free :

Our noble and our great ally, Who, with us rear'd Columbia's fame, And gave her an immortal name,

A name which ne'er till time fhall die.

Who 'midft the depth of our diftrefs, When threaten'd from the wildernefs,

And buteher'd by an impious band, That o'er the ocean fpread their fleet, And cut us from our laft retreat ;

Stretch'd out her ever gen'rous hand.

Sent her brave leaders o'er the main, Ran^'d her battalions on our plain, And with us fwept the menial hoft.

She how contends with freedom's foes ; Amidft them hurls her deadly blows, And bids their tyrants ceafe to boaft.

Columbia's children lift your voice ; Lift high and bid the world rejoice

That we enjoy the charms of peace j While old Britannia feels the rod, Innicled by the hand of God ;

lafli&ed till her crimes {hall ceafe.

And now with one united found, That fhall be heard by all around —

Thank, thank the Lord,fupremely great ,. That Wajhingtsn, the hero, fage, Lives and adorns our infant age ;

Lives and preferves our peaceful flate.

W~nt July 4, I794-

£or the Massachusetts Magazine.

From the French of M. De Fenelan*

By Br. M'K

HARD by a fountain's grafly fide, The love fick Edwin fate, And thus, in broken numbers, hgh'd, And thus bewail'd his fate.

*' Whv rear6 yon hill its verdant head^

" Why flow'rets deck yon plain ? " Such beauties round my Emma fpread !

" Such, Emma's graceful mien. " The rifing morn, on yonder ikies,

" Unfolds its crimfon hue ! "Its fplendor, Emma, blooms and dies-*

<l Its glow refides with you ! " The fetting fun's departing rays

" Illume yon weftern peak ; " More fix'd, more permanent than thefg

" The blufh on Emma's cheek.

" But, ah ! yon tranlient waters roll,

" Yon zephyr fleets away ;— - " Thus emblems o£ my Emma's foul—

" Inconftant, fleet as they." ' v IVorceJIer, June 30, X794-

FRIENDSHIP: An Ode.

By Dr. Johnson.

FRIENDSHIP, peculiar boon of heav'n, The noble mind's delight ancLnride, To men and angels only giv'n, To all the lower world deny'd. While love, unknown among the bleftg Parent of thoufand wild defires, The favage and the human breafl: Torments aiike with raging fires. With bright, but oft deftructive gleam. Alike o'er all his lightnings fly ;

Thy

for JUL Y, 1794.

441

Thy lambent glories only beam Around the fav 'rites of the fky.

Thy gentle flows of guiltkfs joys On fools and villians ne'er defcend ;' In vain for thee the tyrant fighs, .And hugs a flatterer for a friend,

Direer refs Of the "brave and juft, O guide tis thro' life's darMcffie way \ And let the tcstures of miilru{i On felfifh bofoms only prey.

Nor fhall thine ardours ceafe to glow, When fouls to bfifsful cfimes remove i What rais'd cur virtue here below Shall aid our happinefs above. -

For the Massachusetts Magazine.-

LINES,

Written by a Parent- to bis Son, previous to the embarkation of the latter for a difant port.

GOD's prefehce gives fincere delight To tnqfe, who fear his name; It diffipates the gloom of night- Affords relief from pain.

Air, fea, and land may intervene,- And place our friends remote J

But to his praife, a joyful theme, Our fongs we will devote.

Jncireledbv the friendly arm

Of his almighty power, We fhall be ever fefe from haritt,<

Ev'n in death's gloomy hour.

His prefenee let us call to mind, When gloomy thoughts arife,

He's ever merciful and kind, And every want fupplies.

V.

To we Editors of the Mafiachufetts Maga- zine.

. Gentlemen, 1 'find you for publication the following PCEXrf, which I found irferted in the JVezu England Weekly Journal, a paper publijked in Jj'ofion, "fur.c 28, 1 73I. If it wants the elegance of oar modern pvefy, I think that is amply com- penfated by the beautiful defcription and ven- erublejimpliciiy tvhich characterize the piece. It muf he kiphly gratifying to the curiojtty of thofe -votaries of plea/ure, who frequent that df ingulfed rfort of company at ih'u feafon of the year, {viz. Frefh Pond in Cambridge J to perceive that the praifes of their favourite feat of pleafure have been fung by a bard more than fxty years ago ; and that it has ei>erjnce been the principal refori of all thofe who wifa to exchange the noife and f moke of the Tozvn for the jalubrious breezes of the country.

Hie funt gelid'/ fontes, hie moll la prata Lycori ; Hie nemus-, hie tecum toto confumerer aero,

o

To the Editors of the Maffachufetts Maga-

zine<

Gentlemen,

Pleafe to infert the following Lines (if you deem

them worthy J in your next Magazine.

HO Wfmoothly flows this limpid icream, Kiis'd by morning's fportive beam ; While the foftly whifpering breeze Breathes among yon trembling trees. Oh ! \10vv- pjon thefe charms fhall die ! — Lowering tern pelts wrap the fky, Morning's balmy fweets are flown, And the rofy joys are gone. — So in the fair morn of life Plcafures bloom — till ftorms of IT rife Blafl each promis'dbud of peace, And the opening bloffoms c^i>.

ANNA. Vol VI, H

,F ancient dreams prefume no more } to te!!,

The fam'd Caftalian or Pierian well, Frefh Pond fuperipr mud thofe rills con* fefs, [or Greece,

As much as Cambridge Yield's to Rome More limpid water can no fountain fhowj A fairer bottom, or a fmoother brow ; A painted world its peaceful gleam con- tains, The hcav'nly arch, the bcrd'ring groves

and plains Here in mock filver Cynthia feems to roll, And trufly pointers watch the frozen pole. Here fages might obferve the wand'r ng

liars, And rudeft fwains commence aftrologers ; Along the brim the lonely plougher fialks, And to his vifionary fellow talks ; Amid the wave the vagrant blackbird fees, And tries to perch upon the imag'd trees ; On rrying clouds the fimple bullocks gaze, And vainlv reach to crop the fhady gra/s ; From neighbouring hills the (lately horfe

efpies, Flimfelf a feeding and himfeif envies. Thither purfu'd by opening hounds, the

hare Bleffes himfeif to fee a forefl near ; ', he waving (lirubs he takes for real wood, And boldly plunges in the yielding flood. On th's fide willows hem the bafon round, T ltre graceful trees the promontory

crown ; Thofe mingled tufts and outfpread arms

c oino of e

442

MASSACHUSETTS MAGAZINE.

A fhade delightful for the laurell'd brows. Here meffy couches tempt to pleating

dreams The love-fiek foul, and eafe the weary

limbs. No noxious fnake difperfes poifcm here, Nor fcreams of night-bird rend the

twilight air ; [ftill,

Excepting him, who when the groves are Sings am'rous tunes, and whiftles whip- poor-will ; To hear whole carol elves in circles trip, And lovers' hearts within their bofoms

leap ; Whofe favage notes' the troubled mind

amufe, Banifh defpair, and hold the falling dews. No ghaftly horrors conjure throughtsof woe, Or difmal profpecTs to the fancy fhow. If to the weft your ravifh'd eyes you turn, Behold the glitt'ring fpire of Watertown ; Thence fhaggy biffs prop up the bending

fkies, And fmoky fpifes from lowly cots arife. Towards the northweft the daftant"^

mountains wear' C

In fpring a green, in fall a vv-hit'ning ear ; C Or all alive with woolly flocks appear../ Beneath their feet a wide extended plain,