, .
~ . _ . .-.- . , , - ..-
~,.4. 4 ‘..1:-,"'- ' ,,,, • m/Iy-,
~,., ~,,,,;.- -i ' '''
• - . ,
•
'•:''':•.'..-: ' :I'''
T' '•
:4 ;
. -
. • 4 .• k
. 11..
.' i t IV •
V . .
•
• ..
. . P
_i
l';:l•-•
• vb.
:4''t- ~.., ,
, . .
137 ROBERT 77ZITE ZrZI2DIDIZITOIIO
Vaud
-“With sweetest glowers enrich'd.
Frotit various gardens eull'd with care."
FllO3l THE VIIY.DERICK IIEItALII.
TO A SOLITARY FLOWER.
Say, beautiful flower,
Why bloom'st thou alonel
The rest of thy kindred
Are withered and gone.
Dos't heed not the tempest
That sweeps o'er the plaint
Nor hoar-frostl that follows
In winter's cold train.
Thy delicate petals
Unused to the blast,
Must feel too its rudeness
And perish at last;
Nor think to be, 'graven
On merrily when fled
To the region of shadows
The home of the dead.
'Tis nut in the nature
Of mortals below,
On beauty once faded
This boon to bestow,
But fled from the vision
As time rolls along,
'Twill cease to he cherished
In mem'ry or song.
Bloom on lovely, flower,
Bloom on for a while,
Exult for a moment
antumn's faint smile,
But list me! the winter,
Drearwiuter will come,
And then wilt thy kindred
Thou'lt sleep in the tomb.
uturif Mri3S'&3IIIR(DIMYo
PROIt TUC LADS ' S HOOK.
• MAD EXIMM.
toy - dear Margaret, my charmin
Dachas, do you think. ore shall succeed?
Duttoto.--1 tell. you again, I have no doubt on '
but it must loataatly be put to the trial —Sheridan.
Rosalind.-..-iiclitAkink you of falling in love?
Celia.—Marry;lprythoe, do-, to make sport witha
[Shakapeare.
The mask irolf---ther charm is wrought. Moore.
• An evening of infinity with the moonlight just
sleeping upon the z .silvery wave, as the steamer
glided swiftly on through the feathery foam that
broke toned her hows,...tvro gentlemen word , pro
menading the deck, aril• in arm, ever and anon; -
- stopping as a low burst of merriment, and the mu
sical tones of young rok ei from a gay group near
them, fell upon theii ear. : - And as they passed
and repaised, more than cotio.itpair of sparkling
black eyes was raised to the 465., of the taller of
tile two, and instantly drepped,sgain,whilst a smile
of arch meaning play upon a beautiful lip.
"You surely ore not'in (gayest, my mad cou
sin'!" said one of the ladies, laughing. "I know
that romance had , cast her bright mantle over you,
but was not aware that you w(4l4 , engage in any
"You sureli s titi t awil-another of
the party, with a laugh. 'l!le'lissured that Fred
. Oric. Leroy knows liuman nature too well to allow
oven a light spell tiihis:riveni, around him. He
. entreitcheibinaol4l4 dignity 'or haughti
ness, or whatever Yon -may please to term it, and
is colder when woman smiles than the snows of
Gre3inland.. jknoWhis character well, and warn
you, Madeline."
• "I think* for your warning, lady fair," re
plied the heaatitur and lively girl, with a gay smile.
4 1 . Vere, he ten game colder he shall, ore the winter
closes, • •
IlealLtha knee at woman's shrine,
Andeallher lovely, fair, divine"
"Now, Ellen, dear," addressing the first lady,
"Y4:fix must not mar my project by telling it to your
•liege lord, for he, wbuld infallibly betray me.—
:
Let him think that ' hi* unsophisticated cousin.
Madeline Campbell, boa, become changed II • ) the
artless girl of old into the fashionable belle.
It will only afford us more mirth.
. But, Emilie,"
she added, turning to Tier other companion, "re
member that you are to play VCelia' to my 'Rosa
lind,' so my secret is safe With you."
"I am not sure, my fair toz," observed a young
gentleman, the only one of thb party, end who
had been listening to the discOurse in evident a
musement, "that your own free heart may not be
come entangled whilst you are Spreading nets for
others." • .
• • "Now, cousin George; rthought you were too
much interestedin . your book to heed what we
were saying,'' - cried Miss Campbell in a tone of
vexation. "You are tho last Person I would have
told it to, for I know your satirical disposition too
well. But wo Inuit Itow make you. engage with
us to bo sure of seeraq."
"No! nol I thank You," he replied laughing,
"I have no fancy for these plots and counterplots,
I choose to remain noutur,a spectator of the drama:
but pledge you the word of a true knight not to be
tray you; and now having settled all the pro's and
con's of this mighty afthir, wiU yOu walk the deck
with mel" • .
"Do you know who Ihet beautiful girl is who
. , .i..
passed but now with GeorgeMurrayl" asked Fred
eric Leroy, the taller OA two gentlemen before
mentioned, of his Wink as, after replying to his
rp.
salutation, they again lean , over the side of the boat,
witwatching the moonlit w
..It is a Miss (.Campbel l , a cousin of his, who is
.
to pass the winter inliew York with Mrs. Eus
tace, his sister. By way, way, Leroy, you have a
letter of introdnetio*to her husband. They were
married about a yetirligo, and live in much style.
' She is an amiable,; 41 woman, and you will find
it a pleasant visitinipßlace, when wearied with the
cares of business• or the . heartlessness of fashiona
ble life; for they will make it seem like !Maio to
.you with their, gentle words and smiles of happi
ness." . . ',, .
4 , You know, Lindsey, that I despise fashionable
life, and would Father wed a shrew than a were.
'fashionable Believe inc, my friend, though
you laugh at, my obsolete ideas of a wife, that they
are correct: When I choose, it must bo ono who
• 1 6 11utake busband'i home to him the sunny
IPA of earth. Her husband's heart the resting
Plage of all Itit• ; :young affections. .1 should not bc
content io sVfre them with the world: and, al
though I Illi3ltlace my standard of female perfec
tion tiro ithith4still till I can find such an one, I
shall renutin;single."
&fat strange fellow,Leroy; the same dream
•
ing enthusiast you were in our boyhood; - when you
so oft provoked our mirth by your odd fancies; but
though Charles Lindsey, your quondam friend,
approves your very wise decision,yet he must plead
guilty to the charge of being captivated by 41 pair
of the softest blue eyes that ever shone on man.—
I met the lady at the Folls,.hut have never had
the honour of an introduction to her. Her name
is Emilio Spencer, as pretty a little fairy as ever
tripped to a gay measure. I hear that she, tee, is
to be an inmate of Mr. Eustaco's dwelling for the
next few months. I shall call as soon as I arrive
in New York. But look! Leroy, there is that
sparkling black-eyed Henri passing us again; and,
us I live, the pretty Emilie with her. There is
Murray, too, standing alone, looking with his own,
satirical smile upon the different groups as they
pass before him. I will make him introduce me.
Come, Fred, perhapa you may thud your beats ideal
in yon laughing girl."
"She is too fashionable to suit my taste," 4"-
swered Leroy, in a tone of contempt. 440ne would
think she had some design in thus continually
crossing our patii." .
“And perhaps she ban, Fred; your broad, intel
lectual broW, raven eye, and commanding porton,
have often won more than a passing glance from
beauty's eye. Beware, Leroy, there is a danger
ous spell in the playful sini'e of that tuby lip;"
and, with a gay laugh Charles Lindsey left his
friend and joined Murruy,whil introduced him soon
to his own particular party, whilst Frederic Leroy,
wrapped in his mantle of coldness, stood by him
self, dreaming his own wild dreams, until tired and
weary he sought his birth.
The - Sunlight was gilding every spire of the
"Great Emporium," when the "President" touch
ed the wharf—and every one who has once pass
ed through the ordeal, knows too well the Babel
like confusion that reigns at such a time. Mrs.
Eustaco's carriage was : in waiting, and Charles
Lindsey was too busily engaged in attending to
Miss Spencer to Clink of his friend. Leroy threw
himself into a hackney couch, and two hours after,
Lindsey found him comfortably ensconced in one
of the most spacious and pleasant rooms in the
A— House, reading with the utmost composure
the papers of the day.
Madeline Campbell was the daughter of a mer
chant of high respectability and wealth in the city
of —. She was an only child; and whilst her
fond parents gave her every accomplishment that
could charm and attract, they were careful to instil
into her young mind those principles which Could
not fail to render her respected, and to correct a
somewhat hasty temper,until she became an amia
ble, intelligent, and beautiful girl. She was, in
deed, a gifted being; and her character was tinged
with a slight degree of romance that only served
to make it more interesting; whilst her playful,
lively disposition made her the idol of her father's
home, and of her large circle of friends. She was
fortune's favourite; and young and old, rich and
poor, always had a smile and kind word for Made
line. Mrs. Eustace had been her playmate from
infancy, and when she married Mr. Hcnry Ens
tace, of New York, a widower with.one sweet lit
tie girl, she el a promise from Mr. and Mre:
Clatripboll, that her cousin should pads a winter
with her. At the tine the story commences, she
was returning from a visit to them, accompanied
by Madeline and Emilie Spencer, another childish
friend. While on board the boat, they wore attrac
ted by the manly beauty, and haughty mien of
Frederic Leroy, and making inquiries of their male
companions, found that ho was a young gentleman
who had been some years abroad, immensely rich,
talented; but with a most sovereign indifference
towards the whole female sex. Madeline was mu-
Bed by the picture drawn of him by her satirical.
relative, and immediately, made a playful bet with
her cousin that she would compel him, ere the
winter was over, to surrender his proud heart at
discretion. It was an undertaking just suited to
her romantic mind. And she claimed a promise
of secrecy from her friends, whilst she prepared to
personate a gay, dashing belle—a character above
all others, for which Frederick Leroy had the great
est horror.
P. L. J
“Leroy, my dear fellow,remember three o'clock,”
exclaimed Mr. Eustace, as Frederic was leaving
his counting-room. "I am impatient to introduce
you to my wife. She would just suit you, for she
is the very personification of quiet happiness; and
then lem egotist enough to wish you to see my
beautiful child, with her shilling ringlets and soft
gazelle-like eyes."
dd . will certainly come," replied Leroy, with his
hand upou the brass knob of the door, ' , and thank
you for your cordial invitation," his eye resting up
on Mr. Eustace's face. which was lit .up with all a
husband and.a father's feeling. '. , Such open hos
pitality makes me forget that I am in the stranger
land."
• 4 , 13ut stay, I forgot to mention a great attraction.
Mrs. Eustaco had two young friends with her.—
One is her cousin, a lively, gifted girl, though I
find her somewhat metamorphosed since we last
met; and that pretty little, blue eyed fairy, Miss
Spencer. They will make your visit rather more
. gay.
.1)
.!The society of a belle can never enhance the
pleasure of a visit to me," coldly replied Leroy.—
„ But I certainly shall wait upon you,” and bowing
low, he wished him good morning.
It wanted just a quarter to throe when Frederic
rung ut the door of Mr. Eustace's handsome man
sion in ono of the most fashionable streets of Now
York. The servant ushered him into tho drawing
room, and a scene of domestic happiness was pro.
rented to his view. His eye just glanced upon
the splendid carpets, the rich draperies of the win
dows, the mirrors, pictures, all that wealth could
collect around her favoured children, and then be
came riveted upon the group that was clustered
around the glowing grate. Mr. Eustaco was re
clining, with a brow frco from care, upon one of
the couches, that was drawn for comfort near the
tire. His young wife was bending over his shoul
der, with a smile lightening up her countenance,
us she stooped to the kiss that his little girl, a sweet
and lovely, child, who was busily dressing her wax
en doll, proffered to her.
George Murray was quietly read ing,though once
or twice he laid his book down, in order to tease
the little Clara, who only replied with the glad
hearted,ringiniqaugh of childhood., Emiao Bpeu
car wakengaged in forming some pretty plaything
for but young favourite.
Oa her cheek the rose
Burnt like a festal lamp; the sunniest smiles
Wander'd upon her face.
"I 'WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF MY LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP HINE . HONOR FROM OOKRUPTION.".-...IIHAHS.
azaworamwaturpl o ZPLk cauazlKDocar g a aaavg
And Leroy found an excuse for his friend Lindsey
in her exceeding loveliness.
He was welcomed by Mr. Eustace and his gen
tle wife with so much unostentatious kindness that
ho soon felt at home with them, and was engaged
in aa animated conversation with Miss Spencer
and Murray, that was calculated to unfold to them
the stores of his richly-gifted milid,when they were
summoned to the dining room.
"Where can Madeline be?" asked Mr. Eustace
of his wife, as they seated themselves at table.—
"I believe our gay city has turned her head, for
she forgetii all old established customs, and is gov
erned by the fashionable fear of ever being punc
tual."
"She has but just donned the itovice's costume,"
replied his wife, laughing, ..and; therefore, there
is excuse to be made for her. Emilie, my dear,
when did you last see herl"
"About two hours ago," answered Miss Spen
cer, with an arch smile, "deep in discussion with
Mrs. W—, end wavering between the compara
tive merits of a pink hat with drooping plumes,
and a white one with none at all."
At thisinoment a light step was heard, and ra
diant in beauty, MadeHite Campbell entered. She
went through the ceremony of introduction with
the utmost ease and grace, und'seating herself near
Mrs. Eustaco with an air of Aimed langeur, ex
claimed,—
"This horrid shopping! 'tis enough to weary
one to death. I went into a dozen stores before I
could suit myself, and now I have chosen such an
unbecoming silk that I don't believe I shall put it
on. By the way, EllOn, I met Henry. Con,tant
to-day; what superb eyes he has! Mercy! you
have all done dinner, 'whilst I am talking.. I wish,
Ellen, you would dine ut tour instead of three.
"And lose my husband's society by the means,"
said Mrs. Eustace: "no, I thank you, my dear, I
am not a fashionist."
"•Well, I am—and should be miserable if I could
not stand upon the highest pinnacle of the temple
where the Goddess presides."
Frederic Leroy gazed upon her beautiful face
whilst she uttered this speech. So youngso
lovely—said he to himself—can _ihe world have
already reared its shrine in that heart! Forbid it
heaven! and he turned with a sigh to the meek;
quiet beauty of Mrs. Eustace.
Her', was a character that pleased him. He Saw
her affectionate demeanor towards her husband,
and heard her tender words of endearment to his
child. Ho noticed the mingled look of love and
respect with which the domestic's regarded her,
and felt that such a woman must make his home
a blessed spot.
In the evening their circle was augmented by
the addition of Lindsay and two other gentlemen,
and Madeline was urged to sing. Her voice was
both powerful and sweet, and her syren strains
touched more than one heart. But she soon vaca
ted her seat at the piano in favour of Miss spen•
cer. Those who entranced, had listened
"When the tide of song—
From beauty's lip was flowing."
and offered the homage and admiratipn that was
evidently expectcd.by
_her who touched the keys
with Guth unrivalled skill, felt that there was some
thing more touching in the simphc . plaintive ballad
that Emilio sung with so much feeling. Madeline
played the belle to perfection, and by the extreme
fascination or her manners, and the gift of such
sparkling beauty, she succeeded in her design of
fixing Loroy'e attention upon herself. He thought
he was safe in thus trifling with one, who was so
evidently a votary of fashion, and of course, heart
less. But as he left the house, he inwardly mur ,
inured, "so transcendently beautiful! oh! why is
not her mind and disposition equally lovely. She
is like ono of the beings of my early dreams, and
dreams are never realized!"
With her uark hair unbound and floating over
her shoulders, her raven eye lighted up with mer
riment, whilst
"A laugh full of life without auy control,
But the sweet one of gracefulness rung from her soul,"
sat Madeline at the midnight hour in her own
chamber. Emilio was also there, with smiles wan
dering over her sunny face,as she recalled the events
of the day. Mrs. Eustaco entered the apartment
of the gay girls.
"Well, Ellen dear, shall I not win "the Book
of Beauty," think you?" alluding to their playful
bet. "I have already Lounueaced weaving the
charm. Did you not see the proud knight smile
at my gay sallies?"
"In sooth did I; but turni#l these jests out of
service, let us talk in good earnest. I fear, Made
line, that•yon aro playing a dangerous game, and
may rue this mad frolic yet. But, of course, I
shall not advise now, after having become a party
concerned, though I shall turn traitor in one in.t
stiittee, and tell Eustace, for I know he will blame
me, and I cannot see you losing his good opinion."
"Agreed, agreed, coz, only put the seal upon
his lipa," said the laughing girl. "I shall not
give up my scheme when the victory seems cer
tain."
"Good night! - Hero is Emilie half asleep, wait
ing so patiently for the end of our discourse.—
Dreams of Lindsey will hover around her in the
night's deep watches."
, ‘Madedne!" exclaimed Emilie, in a deprecating
toile, "I hardly know him."
"P' ace, silly girl. Is it not possible that cM
such a short acquaintance you should like
that but seeing, you should level Cupid is a way
ward urchin—so good night, dear."
Two months passed rapidly away, and the gay
season was commencing, all tongues were eloquent
in - praiss of Miss Campbell's beauty, grace and
elegance, and she had become a brilliant star in the
world of fashion. But often, often, would she, in
the quiet of the domestic 'circle, gladly throw off
her masquerading dress, and 'appear in, her own
sweet endearing character,caressing the little Clara,
or engaged in some work of charity for the poor
and needy child of want. But a ring at the door,
a stop on the stairs, and she was, in an instant,
transferred into the fashionable belle. Link by link
bad she woven a chain, and cast its lettere over
Frederic Leroy. He would gladly havo broken
the thrall that was upon his spirit, but %was too
latcvnd with many a throb of bitternosa,his proud
heart; eatto compelled to acknowledge to himself,
had surrendered to a being devoid of all those
quali
ties he had looked for in a companion for life. But
though day after day found him still hovering a.
round Madeline,antrriveung still closer the galling
chain, ho felt that he could not wed her, and that
the hour of parting would loon come. So heart
less,
so cold, excepting when homage was render-
ad at her shrine, ho felt she was incapable of such
love aide coveted.
"Lindsey, my dear fellow, your face is the very
picture of joy. Where have you been sentimen
talising,all the morning? but I need not ask'. Has
fate been propitious?'
kind," replied Lindsey with et smile.—
availed myself of Mrs. Eustace's absence, and
ventured a confession. _Emilio's heart is my
own."
6.1 gi:e you joy; she is a sweet creature, who
has yielded up to you her wealth of young affec
tions; and you, my friend, will consider it a sacred
deposit. Her witching smile will be as sunlight
in your path.
• . • • .
(To be. continued.]
WaUtaUVo
( j . -I;Tlid following beautiful lines wore written on
receiving a copy of the Chatobersburgh “Week
ly Messenger," Edited by Rev. Mr. Scuareex,
fornarly of this place.
TO THE "MESSENGER,"
• 16?1::olve to the weary breast,
• Messenger of Peace,
Bidding care's wild billows rest,
2nd worldly sorrows cease— •
Bidding bleeding hearts like mine,
Seek the balsam from above:
Bearing from the Fount Divine,
Messenger of Love.
This poor heart has fondly clung
To many an earthly joy,
Then with bitter anguish wrung, • .
• Mourn'd o'er the 'broken toy.
I have watch's] the budding flower
• And fondly hop'd to see it blow,
But the storm, the frost, or shower,
Has ever laid it low.
I have lent a willing car
To Hope's delusive strain:
And shed full many a bitter tear
To find her promise vain t
I have sought perennial flow'rs .
Along life's painful thorny way;
. And mourn'd beneath the rifled bow'rs
- To eee them fall away"— •
I have leaned what restless things
Earth's joys and treasures are;
Seen them spread their phantom wings,
Amd vanish into air.
All the loves, and joys of earth,
Are like the bubbles on the stream;
. All its honor, fame, and mirth,
Thd meteor's flitting gleam.
Welcome! then, fair Messenger,
Of more substantial bliss;
Poiuting to a holier,
stud happier world than this;
Speak thy Message near and far,
That Christ will give the weary rest;'
Show the beams of 130Mb:hem's Star,
Tp the benighted breast.
uirery, RA. LYDIA JANE.
SOMETHING A .1.1 otrr KISSING.
Mr. Pickwick bowed tow to the ladies, and not
withstanding the solicitation of the family, left the
room with his friends. "Get your hat, Sam." said
Mr. Pickwick. "It's below 'stairs, Sir," said Sam,
and ho ran down after it. Now there was nobody
in the kitchen but the pretty housemaid, and
Sam's hat was mislaid; ho had to look for it, and
the pretty housemaid lighted him. They had to
look all over the place for the hat, and the pretty
housemaid, in her anxiety to find it, went down
on her ku3es and turned over all the things that
were heaped together in a little corner by the
door. It was an awkward corner You could'nt
get at it without shutting the door first. “Here
it is," said the pretty housemaid. "This is it,
ain't it?" "Let me look," said Sam. The pret
ty housemaid had stood the candle on the floor,
and as it give a dim light, Sum was obliged to go
down on his knees before ho could see whether it
was really his own hat or not. It was a remarka
bly small corner, and so—it was nobody's fault
but the man's who, built the house—Sam and the
pretty housemaid were necessarily very close to.
gether.
"Yes, this is it," said Sam. "Good bye—good
bye," said the pretty housemaid. "Good bye,"
said Sam, and as he said it, he dropped the hat
that had cost so much trouble looking for. "How
awkward you are," said the pretty housemaid.—
..You'll loose it again, if you don't take care:"
—So just to prevent his loosing it again, she
put it on for him. Whether it was that the pret-
I ty housemaid's face looked prettier still, when it
was raised towards Sam's, or whether it was the
accidental consequence of their being so near each
other, is a matter of uncertainty to this day; but
Sam kissed her.—“ You don't mean to say you
did that on purpose'." said the pretty housemaid,
blushing. "No, I did'nt then," said Sam—"but
I will now!" So he kissed her again. “Sam,"
said Mr. Pickwick, calling over the bannisters.—
"Coming, sir, replid Sani, running up stairs.—
"How long you have been!" said Mr. Pickwick.
"There was something behind the door, sir, which
prevented our getting it open, for ewer so long,"
replied Sam.
ECONOMY IN ♦ Fa. larn.r.—There is nothing
which goes so far towards placing young people
beyond the reach of poverty as economy in the
arrangement of their domestic affairs. Ii is ai
much impossible to get a ship across the Atlantic,
with a half a dozen butts started, or as many
bolt holes in her bottom, as to conduct the con
cerns of a family without economy. It matters
notwhether a man furnishes little or much for his
family, if there is a continual leakage in the kitch
en or in the parlor; it runs away, he knows not
how, and demon, Waste, cries more, liko the.horae
leach's daughter, until ho that provides has no
more to give. It is ,the husband's duty to bring
into the house and it is the duty of the wife to see
that nothing goes wrongly out of it; not the least
article, however unimportant in itself, for it es
tablishes a precedent; nor under any pretence, for
it opens the door for ruin to stalk in) A man gets
a wife to look after his affairs, and to assist him
in hie journey through life. The husband's inter
eats should be the wife's care and her greatest am
bition curry her no further than his welfare and
happiness, together with that of her children.—
This should be heisole aim, and the theatre of ex
ploits, of the bosom of her family, to ere she may
do as much towards making a fortnni+, as he pos.
sibly can do in the counting-room or workshop,—
It is not the Money earned that Makes a man
wealthy; it, is what is saved from his earnings:—
A good and prudent husband makes a doposite of
'the : fruits of his labor with his best frierid—and if
that friend be not true to him, what has ho to
hope; if he dare not place confidence in the com
panion of his bosom, where is he to place it? A
wife acts not for herself only, but she is the agent
of many oho loves, and she is bound to act for
their good and not for hor own gratification. tier
husband's good is . the end at which she should
aim—his approbation is her reward. Self-gratifi
cation in dress, or indulgence In appetite, or more
company than his purse can well entertain, are
equally pernicious. The first adds vanity to ex
travaganco—tho second fastens a doctor's bill to a
long butcher's account, and the latter brings in
temperance, the worst of all evils, in its train.
From tho National IntoHim-Icor.
Junius in the United States
Observing in the last number of the New
York Albion, that the - Scotch newspapers
are reviving the inquiry respecting the
identity of "Junius," and are pointing to
this country as Ow probable depository of
some evidence that bears upon - it,l eittploy
a moment's leisure to explain more fully not
only the nature of the evidence, but the
degree of importance which may be attach
ed to it.
In 1827, Dr. BREWSTER, now Sir DAVID,
showed to a gentleman, now in this country,
some of the literary correspondence which
his father-in-law, the celebrated Osst4!
MACPHERSON, as he is called, had had with
various distinguished individuals. Amongst
the rest were letters signed LACHLAN Mc.
LEAN. These were generally'vvritten with
much vigor of style. The metaphors and
figures in which they abounded were always
forcible, and often quite remarkable for their
beauty. Sir DAVID pointed out several
passages which had struck him, both in
their structure and language, as being al
most identical with otherb found in the let
ters of Junius; and what gave greater in
terest to this similarity was, that the hand
writing bore an equally_ singular resem
blance to the fac similes of the MSS, of
Junius, as published iu Wondfall's edition.
Having ceminunicated the impression
these letters had made upon him,one of his
friends pointed out to him a passage in
Galt's Life of West, which greatly excited
his inclination to investigate the arair.---
From this passage it appeared that Gover
nor HAMILTON, of Pennsylvania, calling up
on West, the painter, one morning in Lon
don, West showed him the attack upon the
King, which hud that morning appeared in
Woudfall's newspaper. On reading it,
Hamilton exclaimed that he knew the au
thor; that certain passages and epigramma
tic expressions in , it he had seen before, and
that the author was that scoundrel Lach
lan McLean, who once resided in Philadel
phia, and who had at that time made a vio
lent attack upon him. then Governor of the
State of Pennsylvania, m a Philadelphia pa
per.
This circumstance had induced Sir DA
VID to inquire what had been the ostensible
existence and movements of LACHLAN MC.
LEAN during that period embraced by the
letters of Junius, and the result upon his
mind was almost equal to conviction that
McLean was the author of those letters.—
That he was a powerful writer, and that he
wrote in the style of Junius, he had suf•
ficient proofs in his own possession. Then
there were the remarkable_ facts, that he
had been under• Secretary of State to Lord
Shelburne, had been sent on . a lucrative mis
sion to India, at the very period Junius an
nounces his own retirement, and had perish
ed on a second voyage to India, in the
Swallow Packet, together with probably
some written evidences, that, had. ho died
a natural death, might have ere this cleared
up the suspicion; for, after all, tt is but a
suspicion, and was so regarded by others at
the time, especially Sir Walter Scott, Lord
Minto, and Mr. Jeffrey, to - whom the gen-
tleman, that Sir David had shown Macpher
son's correspondence to, had mentioned the
affair; and they, after seeing the letters of
Lachlan McLean, concurred in opinion
that Sir David was on .a wrung scent.—
This opinion, too, was expressed in such a
decided manner as- to awaken a thought
in the gentleman's mind that they were
among the initiated few who knew wl.o was
the author a the letters of Junius. -
It was agreed, however, tin all hands,that,
on the return of this person to America, he
shoiild make some inquiries in Philadelphia
about Lachlan McLean, and the newspaper
attacks upon Governor Hamilton. This
was infructuously done. Assisted by others,
all the accessible files of the newspapers
published during the government of Hamil
ton were examined, and nothing was found.
Some information, however, respecting
Lachlan McLean, was collected: the late
Bishop White, then a boy at school, re
membered him. He was an Irishman, and
a Surgeon in the Army, and kept a 'small
apothecary's shop near Second street and
Market. Some officer in'Otway's regi
ment had given offence to one of the citi
zens, and Governor Hamilton espoused the
cause, of the citizen. This drew forth the
keen pen of McLean, who defended the of
ficer, and was very severe on the Governor.
It was au affair which created much excite
ment in Philadelphia. It is barely possible
that some light may be thrown on the sub
ject, if the descendants of Governor Hamil
ton would examine the papers they have
preserved, and which once were very nu
merous.
Mierthe affair with Hamilton, he return.
ed to England, became the intimate of Burke
and other literary men of the day.' About
this time, (1771,) he wrote a defence of the
Ministry, which is not extant, unless some
copy has been preserved in .tbe United
States. It was on the subject of the Falk-
[VOL.
land Isles. In 1772, Lord'North fiaieldlit
the collectorship of the l j
when he came out again. ileviretunied
England in 1773. It. deserve* - ilidatoo4ll4
that - during this interval, Junius dieLml4
write. -
RON. LEWIS CA)Sig, SOW Enstmitiensiorif
Paris, has addressed the Min
columns of flie.Washington Globe si VI
cation of his conduct as Secretary
. of .
from the blame of the fatlism of the *lt
Seminole campaign. Some part . . of:it 'is
very satisfactory; but, as we have not been
among the accusers of the tx•Seciatiiiii; _
we do not feel called upOn to publish his
defence.'
By the way, the United Slates - Gazette..
has a good idea with regard to. - thie Sarni.;
note business. Gen. Scott was first triutli•
phonily acquitted of all blame- then' Gen.
Gaines; now Secretary Cass absoltietillint.'
self. Who is the Jonah? The •GaZineel
suggesie that it must be Oceolainricf-ihatite -
ought to be Court Martialed—allet ae
have caught him- We second the
[Nelio Yorkei. ,
"FREE DISCUSSION. " —ThIS is i e title
of an excellent Anti• Slavery piper;pubtieh.
ed at New Lisbon, Ohio. :Though hie
name does not appear in it, we pielutne
_that
our old Incl nci, Amos Gmasisr, atelds itihe
editorial helm.
They have an Anti Slavery Society also,
at that place,-of which , another "old.fnendr,
of ours. JACOB JANNEY, fOrMerlY , of Wash.
ington City, is the President. Ate meeting
of this Society, on the 25th ult. the foltovvi.
ing resolutions were pissed. When Our
southern friends find themselvenin Situations
where they dare speak their sentime n ts,;
they speak plainly. =--- . • •
Resolved, That we consider the right'of
petition is guarantied to every man by.that
God of nature, whether he. be (rawer nett.
and that no government has the power tit de.
prive him of this right..
Resolved,
- • •
Resolved, That „lobo Q. Adams, -for thee ;
noble stand which he took entieo4l4 Main ,
tatned against the effort +a prostrate. the
right of petition during the trot session of
congress, merits the gratitude of the friends
of liberty. • - .
Resolved, That in pursuing the slave
trade, if they (the Alves) be carried on the
high seas, the highway - of, nations, they
are entitled to filmdom by the law of as-.
tioru3.--IVattond Enquirer. -
JACKSON Mime:rim og Rataar.--The
Boston Morning Past wad the -Washingto t a
Globe—The concocted wiCarnanCt hese two
enlikhtener a of -politics end finance a
,-
forth in an article on the Times. Oublished:
in the former, and transferred to the•col.
urr as of the latter, in , ..whial4.-akeir 'Orient'
measures of retrenchment and .
expenditures are painted out, we corne to tha
following, as regards the stair oflife.' .0.4
Speaking of - flour—J4 We know .
that formerly used a bocci ht six weelta, •
that have made the samaqUantity lasteight
weeks since the high price of that article.",
We must deny ourselves the usual . fbod;
diminish what we eat onethirJ;.giye up a
meal a day—but Pod no fault with the Ad.
ministration. We shall next have the
Curfew Bell directing us to put out firer,
and go to bed by order of Government. •
A mong the failures at New Orleans we.
N. & J. Dick; Bullett, Ship & Co; Wilcox
& Anderson; Buchanan it Hogan; - Hagan,
Niven & Co; Caruthers & Harrison; Mar
tin, Pleasants & Co; Yeatman, Woods &
Co; with some other smaller houses. They
are put down as having tailed for millions
of dollars each, that Eing the scale upon
which things are done in that great southern
commercial emporium. • '
It is supposed that upwards of-10,0 : 0",
slaves were sold in the State of Mos*um,
from Ist November, 1835, to .thi*,se; ,
d
riod in 1830, on a credit, that is .to sayi,fti - 4:
the notes and aoceptances of nieruhentitiln ...;',<,
planters. 'rhe value of these slave/Imi* .;,,„
not have been less than ten millions, of '
dol. '
lam. The planters, then, created 11 -; debt :
for slaves alone. to be paid out of, the crop •
of 1836, equal to ten millions of dollarak., _.)..•
There is a curious passage in one of Dr. Frank.
Tin's letters m regard to wine: he pleasantly' ,ob.
serves, that the only Animals created td &ink
water are those who from their conformation. aro
able to lap it on the em face of the earthoehtssmut
all those who can carry their hands .ea their month,
were destined to enjoy the juice of the gram, .4.
There are many ' , peevish fellows" like those
described by Steele in the following. parignph,
and wherever they are found they ikhould t be made
to partake of the remedy woanneaded at the
end:—
“A peevish folio* is one who lute some resulon
iii himself for being out.of hitmonr, ar hae a nattt
nil incapacity for.delight, and therefore disturb,
all who are happier than himself with pieties , and
pahawa i or other well-bred interjeCtions, sterny
thing that is done or said in his presence. There
should be physic mixed in all the food of which
these fellows eat in good company.” -
Prosperity too often hat the same *fee Ott f
Christian, that calm at sea has upon a ;Dwelt
mariner, who frequently, it laud, in amen Cli r
eximstances, ties up ilia rudder, gets-drunk,,
Much may be done in thaer little shreds:ail *
patches of Mite, which 'every ( 1 9' Mamie* .11
which most people throw rely, bat whith#
ow.. will at the end of it no atoll! _
Lion front the lira of tun Cicero' halt I d '
them int 'ereissioa terapoiTs, mod die tilatgesolll44 -
not ignorantoftheir van%
nal with them 'knot to' coups* of Watkili
whit* under the oparatios of midi 1, - Ow*
bath.
• -$:$;"
$
• , ,
• ' •
, .
...: .„,,, ;:; ;-7 .?:; 1. ' , .2•:.!15 , ..-±;_„'.. , '.=.i,...
.-..:... ii.--...,.t'...i.'4::,-„:.,...:.t.r,i,:.
, .....