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VOL. I.

POLITICAL.

DEVOTED TO POLITICKS AND BELLES LETTRES.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

THE Legislature of Massachusetts is again assembled, and in this body, though much altered for the better, will be recognized the face of many of those sturdy approvers of commercial restrictions, and war, who have done all in their power to bring our devoted country to its present degraded and forlorn situation! What must now be the reflections of such men! They did not expect that the arm of the Almighty would be stretched out against the imperial dictator, their support and their confidence! Will they pretend to apologize to an indignant people, by confessing " in whom they put their trust," and their cruel disappointment at his fall?

The honest and inquiring have never mistaken the nature of American democracy. It was the foster child of the French revolution. It received its poisonous aliment across the Atlantick; it assumed the appearance of force and vigour; but for its seemingly firm step, it depended on its monstrous parent. It could never stand alone. Now the parent has falien; and we shall see a hopeless stare of misTo drop the metaphor-our democrats have ever boasted, that they were governed by the purest principles of patriotism. Why are they cast down by the triumphs of a cause, in which all the nations of Europe rejoice? Why do they mourn, when France herself begins

trust.

to exult in her liberation ?

Because the world has never received such

a lesson of instruction as the recent history of France has afforded. The lesson is now complete; an experiment is finished, which we must suppose cannot soon be forgotten. We have seen levellers and demagogucs strike at the first principles of government. We have seen a nation involved in all the horrors of anarchy. From anarchy we have seen to arise. the most unrelenting despotism. We have witnessed the progress of despotism; a tion proud of their chains, with no remaining

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ambition but to make all mankind as wretched as themselves. We have seen the end of these things, and thank heaven that the scene is closed so soon. What can our unfledged tyrants now expect? France no longer dazzles she can no longer enslave nations, nor encourage those who would. Our rulers and their minions are now left to manage us by the sole instrumentality of our own wicked passions, and that too with an awful warning before us. It is no wonder, then, that democrats look aghast, or that the countenances of good men brighten. You, federalists, who have stood firmly attached to your country's good, in despite of all the lures of corruption and apostacy, you now have the reward of your patriotism and perseverance. You can hold up your heads; while your revilers are covered with confusion. Their predictions are proved false their hopes are blasted their confidence is gone. The faction, which enlisted themselves as the allies of Bonaparte, have survived the power of their principal; but standing ALONE, in a regenerated world, they cannot survive it long.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, MAY 28, 1814.

DESTRUCTION OF LIFE BY THE WAR. A GENTLEMAN, for whose correctness we can vouch, from a remote part of the District Maine, has informed the Editor, that, in his vicinity, sixteen persons enlisted for the conquest of Canada. A letter was lately received from one of the sixteen, stating that he was the only survivor of the number, and he was We khow not why this severely wounded.

may not be considered a scale from which we may infer the fate of the early enlistments, generally. What a subject for reflection! With all this sacrifice of life, not a foot of conquered territory; but defeats and disgraces, enough to fill volumes.

PEACE NO SECURITY.

NO. XXII.

deep and able in all their other plans, could not be so consummately shallow in this, as to have expected the reduction of Canada, by such a process as they have pursued. They could not have wished it. And why not? Because the local situation of Canada is such, that an acquisition of territory in that quarter, would probably, in the event, rather weaken than strengthen their political influence.

But, if we turn our attention to another quarter, we shall see the same policy which rendered Canada indifferent, or not desirable, strongly illustrated, by a very different conduct. Under pretexts, which it has scarcely been thought worth while to state to the publick, the Indian countries on the back parts of South-Carolina and Georgia are invaded. A sanguinary war against the Aboriginals, the I AM well aware that, in spite of all the ef- yet acknowledged owners of the soil, has been forts which have been adopted to make the prosecuted with vigour and effect. No terms war with England popular, by seizing on every of accommodation are admitted, and their tomeans of irritation, and inflating our national tal extirpation is announced as almost comvanity, it has been considered so great a ca- pleted. Here will be vast tracts open for a lamity, that the publick mind is ready to hail new population; and population here will give lamity, that the publick mind is ready to hail a certain increase of strength to the southern the return of peace, as about to bring with it the end of all our political evils. Peace cersection. War has already driven thousands tainly is desirable; it will seem a great reand thousands from New-England and the lief; and it is with reluctance I would offer a middle states to Kentucky and Tenessee. humble suggestion to damp the joy, which such a prospect affords. Yet a moment's reflection must convince any one, that a war with Great-Britain was not the ultimate object of our rulers. There is a radical policy by which they are actuated, which merely seized the opportunity of working popular prejudices and passions up to the war pitch, for the sake, and as a means of acquiring power. Though

this war-scheme has availed them much, as an

expedient, it is by no means the only one on which they have relied. Other engines, of various kinds, are at work; and if we, in this art of the Union, look no further than the war, and we confess its real cause seems yet to be but imperfectly understood, we may find ourselves in the full enjoyment of tranquillity, domestick slaves in the world. as to our foreign relations, and yet the veriest

I know it is an ungracious task to preach alarm; that the publick naturally hug their repose, and are little apt to thank him who predicts danger, or recommends active vigilance against impending evil. Yet, in the full belief that the enemy is busy-that by peace, which Providence seems about to force upon us, little is accomplished towards our local security, silence would be criminal.

I repeat it, is party power. War was but an The grand object of those who now rule us, accessary consideration. Defeat, in this one

project, is no defeat of the main purpose;

and we shall soon see that the dominant faction are as prolifick in means, as they are abandoned in principle.

Can any man seriously suppose our government have sincerely intended the conquest of Canada, and exerted themselves to the utmost to effect it? The history of the manner, in which the pretended invasion has been conducted, is positive proof to the contrary. Handfulls of men have been sent to the frontier, in succession, to skirmish, to be slain, or to perish. Men who have shewn themselves

The lands of our butchered "red brethren" will be offered cheap to the impoverished emigrant from the East. He will be glad to fly from a country, which subsists by commerce; by a commerce, which must, hereafter, be comparatively very limited; and yet he loaded, for ages to come, with the debts which are now Thus, though democracy is accumulating. becoming defunct in this section of the Union, that part of the country which now rules the whole, will gain more political weight by this artificial, forced population, than it will lose by the increasing unanimity of New-England.

LETTER OF LOUIS XVII.

IN THE ORIGINAL FRENCH.

Dr. Park,-IT may gratify some of your readers to see a copy of the original letter transmitted by Louis XVIII. to Charles IV., king of Spain, on occasion of the latter sending Bonaparte the insignia that had been previously sent to Louis, and which this noble emigrant disdained to retain in company with the usurper of his throne.

"Calmar, ce 3 Aout, 1805. "M. mon frère et mon cousin,

"C'est avec regret que je renvoye à votre majesté l'insignia de l'ordre de la toison d'or, que j'avais reçu du roi, votre père, de glorieuse mémoire. Il ne peut y avoir rien de commun entre moi et le grand criminel, que sa propre audace, aidée de sa fortune, a missur mon trône. Un trône, qu'il a taché avec le sang pur d' un* Bourbon ! La religion peut me disposer à pardonner un assassin, mais il faut que le tyran de mes peuples doit toujours être mon ennemi.

Dans notre situation présente il est plus glorieux de meriter un sceptre que de régner. Dieu,dans ses ordonnances impenetrables,m'a, peut-étre, condamné à finir mes jours an éxile; mais ni la postérité ni l'âge present

* Duc d'Enghein.,

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EUROPEAN. Within the present week, we have received a full confirmation of all our recent good news from France, by the arrival of the Regent, at New York, from Nantz, one day later than former accounts. She brings no additional intelligence.

DOMESTICK. A Quorum of both branches of the Legislature of this state assembled on Wednesday last. A joint committee waited upon his Excellency the Governour, who with the Legislature attended divine service in the Old South meeting house, in the after⚫ noon. An excellent sermon on the occasion, was delivered by President APPLETON, of Brunswick College. Above two thirds of the Senate and more than three fourths of the House are federal.

On Thursday, the joint committee, appointed for the purpose, examined the votes for Governour and Lieutenant Governour. Whole number 102,477. Strong 56,374, Dexter 45,359. Scattering 150.

The same day the Anniversary Convention sermon, was delivered before the convention of Clergy. Sermon by the Rev. President Appleton. Collection 580 dollars.

In the evening a concert of Sacred Musick, by the Park Street Singing Society, and an Address by the Reverend Mr. Everett. The object, a donation to the Boston Asylum for Indigent Boys.

Yesterday at 11 o'clock A. M. an Address was delivered at the meeting house, in Ghauncey Place, before the Massachusetts Society for the suppression of Intemperance, by the Reverend President Kirkland.

In the afternoon, an Address before the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society, by B. Whitwell, esq.

The following Hymn and Ode for the Anni versary of the Massachusetts Charitable Society were composed by John Lathrop, jun. esq. HYMN.

ETERNAL GOD, accept our song,
To thee our grateful lays belong ;-
Yet what can feeble mortals bring,
Meet offerings to Creation's King!
With humble confidence we bend,
Before thy throne, our Sire and Friend,—
With Angels and Arch-Angels raise
The universal hymn of praise.
When tempests rage, and foes assail,
When fell Disease and Death prevail,
In Desolation's darksome hour,
We own thy justice and thy power.
But, soon thy mercy's cheering ray,
Dispels the gloom, restores the day,
And joyful tribes in sweet accord,
Proclaim the goodness of the Lord.
Then, mortals, with united voice,
In your protecting God rejoice,

Angelick choirs shall join the song,

And heaven and Earth the notes prolong.

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Oh, say, shall Glory's partial hand
Withhold the meed to Pity due,
When plaintive Sorrow's grateful band
For wreaths to deck their patrons sue?
A tear-enamell'd chaplet weave

Round BowDOIN's venerated urn,
Where all the patriot virtues grieve,
And votive lamps of Science burn;
Sweet Charity on RUSSELL's tomb,
A shower of vernal flow'rets throws ;-
And bays of fadeless verdure bloom,
O'er classick MINOT's calm repose.

Religion lights her hallow'd fire,
Where pious STILLMAN's relicks rest ;-
New-England's worthies grace the pyre,
Whence BELKNAP soar'd, for ever blest!
Why mourns the Muse with tearful eyes
While pondering o'er the roll of death?
Afresh her keenest sorrows rise,

With EMERSON's departed breath!

Ah heaven again demands its own,
Another fatal shaft is sped,

And Genius, Friendship, Learning, mourn
Their BUCKMINSTER among the dead!
TO ELIOT's tomb, ye Muses bring,
Fresh roses from the breathing wild,
Wet with the tears of dewy Spring,
For he was Virtue's gentlest child!
Ye sainted Spirits of the just,

Departed friends we raise our eyes,
From humble scenes of mould'ring dust,
To brighter mansions in the skies.-
Where FAITH and HOPE, their trials past,
Shall smile in endless joy secure,
And CHARITY's blest reign shall last,
While heaven's eternal courts endure.

LITERARY AND MISCELLANEOUS.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

CHRISTIAN CHARITY,

olent feelings to be brought into exercise. How do they succeed? asked a stranger. "Not well," replied a citizen; "they cannot get even a boy to break a window for them, for love or money."

Such is the happy situation of Boston. We are aware, however, there are not wanting those abroad, who affect to deplore these gen tle fruits of forbearance, and mutual charity, as the apathy of infidelity. Let them visit our churches, and judge, so far as man is authorized to judge of the heart of man, whether infidelity fills the temples of God. Let them search the scriptures; they will there find abundant authority to suggest a more favoura ble construction.

The whole christian dispensation was perfectly adapted to the nature of man, for whose benefit it was communicated. Thus, as the divine founder of the system gave instructions, personally, to the first converts, a perfect unanimity was demanded, for it was practicable; but the apostolic teachers did not aspire to the authority of their master. They reasonedthey could not demonstrate. There will be, there must be, shades of variety in the deductions of human reason. They were convinced of this-they governed themselves accordingly, and charity became then the first injunction of christian morality.

THE WRITER, No. III.

As I am a man of leisure myself, and find a great many of my acquaintance and townsmen who appear to have equally nothing to do, I commonly join these my fellow labourers, and whether they lounge about the Exchange floor, or reel round the principal corners in Cornhill, am seen among them in these their usual places of employ. When the general court is in session, we have more business in

that we may bear testimony to the spirit and eloquence of this representative body. Thus it may be said that we have promoted laziness to a science, and, by a sort of community of interests, a mutual support of each other's burdens, and that countenance and confidence which number gives to each individual, we have nearly cleared ourselves of that disgrace which, in notable times, used to attach to habits of idleness. But here I wish it to be dis

I TRUST that many good things may be just-hand, and very industriously crowd the lobbies ly said of the good town of Boston; but I know of nothing more honourable to the char acter of its inhabitants, no stronger evidence that they are an enlightened,liberal people,and, what is a higher encomium, attached to the true spirit of Christianity, than that candour which prevails among all religious sectaries. I have ever enjoyed a pleasure in the reflection that, to an observing stranger, the Sabbath, in this town, must make an impression of philosophick complacency. On this sacred day, it is a prevailing habit among all classes of people to attend divine service. At a particular hour, the streets, from the most perfect stillness, are immediately crowded with the inhabitants. Congregationalists, Episcopalians, Baptists, Methodists, Roman Catholicks, and various other denominations, flock at once to their favourite place of worship. The dignity and solemnity of the object seem to be impressed on every countenance. But while crowds are pressing in different directions, bringing to mind not only that they are of different tastes but of different tenets, there is, among all, a respectful deportment, which seems to say, "We are going to adore the SAME CREATOR -our work is holy-pass in peace."

tinctly understood, that although I join in the daily employment of this fraternity of gentlemen, I solemnly protest that I am never with them when they assemble round the gaming table at night. This they say is one of my oddities, and so it passes off; and I am receiv ed amongst them in the morning with as much good humour, as though I had wasted the whole night in winning their money.

This manner of passing our time is certainly very amusing to us, but whether it affords any pleasure to the active part of the community, is another question: it is very pleasam to see what is passing in the streets, and to make our remarks on the character, dress, or gait of the passengers; but it may not be equally agreeable to a stranger who visits the town, or Several attempts have been made to introto ladies who daily frequent the shops on duce a spirit of persecution and intolerance their necessary' concerns to support the steady into this happy metropolis; but the catholistare of an idle group who are always at their cism of the people prevails over every such posts. It is true, that, amongst our fraternity, cabal. Sectarians who are disposed to it, can it is the general opinion that, with respect to neither persecute nor excite persecution. A the ladies, there is many a pretty female who society was once instituted here, whose avowflaunts along these frequented walks on pured expectation was to make a noise, and propose to be seen of men." I declare, howervoke those uncharitable remarks, of which er, that I never gave any heed to the scandal, they themselves were so liberal. But their but on the contrary have used many good ar right to their opinion was so cheerfully recog-guments to prove the accusation false; and nized, their purpose failed for want of malev- have often plead the propriety of retiring

from these haunts and to sacrifice the pleasure we enjoy, rather than give pain to others. But I am sorry to say, that instead of convincing these gentlemen that they are wrong, I only convince them that I am an odd fellow, and have strange notions. I am however determined to withdraw from these lounging resorts myself, and hereby promise, if the ladies will read my papers, I will stare at them no more.

HOMER'S GEOGRAPHY.

IT has been shewn, I believe, that the ancient topographers looked for the scene of the Iliad on the shores of the Straits; and that the present state of the country corresponds sufficiently with their accounts, to enable us not only to understand, but to form a judgment of the accuracy of their conclusions concerning the city of Priam and the plain of Troy. Whether the fable of the poet was founded on fact, or was altogether fiction, (a point which it has been my wish entirely to leave out of this inquiry,) I see no necessity for allowing, with Mr. Blackwell, that Homer, although he may have been acquainted with Phrygia, had a personal knowledge of the precise site of his war, or had fixed upon any distinct spot for the scene of his action. It is true indeed that an inimitable air of truth is to be found in his description; that he is simple, distinct, and every where consistent with himself; but this is a portion of his art, this is the characteristick of his genius; it is an excellence less likely perhaps to be found in a painter of real scenery, than in one who trusts altogether to his invention, and is not incumbered with the adjustment of actual localities; and the poet is equally minute, particular, and, it may be almost said, credible, in his detail, when he conducts his delighted guests into the coral groves of the ocean, or the silver palaces of Olympus. It is hardly necessary to add, that he cannot be affected by any of the difficulties attendant upon the examination of the question, and that there is no confusion in the descriptions of the Iliad, except when they are compared with the topograghy of the Troad.

the native country of Alexander so like the birth-place of Henry the Fifth. "There is a river in Macedon, and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth."

It has been remarked as a singular fact, that the map which Mr. Pope composed, merely from the perusal of the Iliad, is no bad representation of the plain of the Mendere. It would be singular if it was a fact, but it is not. The fact is, that Mr. Pope's picture (for it is not a map) bears not the least resemblance to the spot in question.

Hobhouse's Journey through Albania, &c.
AMBITION.

censured or absolved. He sustains his own good opinion, perhaps, by the hope that he shall be able to discover his true sentiments when he has attained his object. But if he suffers shipwreck before he gains the haven, if he is banished, when, like Brutus, he counterfeits the madman, vainly would he attempt to explain what were his intentions and his hopes. Actions are always more prominent than commentaries, and what is said upon the theatre is never effaced by what is written in retirement. What then can be a greater calamity, than to have acquired a reputation which our true character contradicts !

The man who views himself in the same light which publick opinion has sanctioned, who preserves in his own breast all the dignified sentiments which accuse his conduct, who can hardly suppress his real character in the intoxication of success, must be placed in the most painful situation in the moment of calamity. It is from an intimate acquaintance with the traces which ambition leaves in the heart after it experiences reverse, and the impossibility of fixing its prosperity, that we are enabled to judge of the extent of the horror which it must inspire.

We have only to open the book of history, to discover the difficulty of preserving the success which ambition attains. The majority of private interests is hostile to its permanence. Men join in demanding a new lottery, as they are dissatisfied with the tickets which they have drawn. The ambitious man is opposed by the irresistible propensity of the publick to judge and to create anew, to bear down a name too often repeated, to experience the agitation of new scenes and new events. In a word, the multitude, composed of obscure men, desire to see, from time to time, the value of private stations raised by the example of signal falls, and lend an active force to the abstract arguments which extol the peaceful advantages of ordinary life. Baroness Stael on the Passions.

THE pains which are connected with the pursuit of ambition begin with its first steps, and the term to which it leads affords more unmixed enjoyment, than the path which you must traverse. If a man of narrow understanding endeavours to attain an elevated station, can there be conceived a more painful situation, than that which arises from the incessant hints which interest gives to self-love? In the ordinary scenes of life, we impose upon ourselves as to the degree of our own merit : but an active principle discovers to the ambitious man the extent of his talents, and his passion opens his eyes to his own defects, not as reason to deter from the attempt, but in the shape of desire, fearful of its success. Then he is employed chiefly in deceiving others, and in order to succeed in this object, he must never lose sight of himself. To forget, for a moment, the part which it is necessary to support, would be fatal: he must arrange with skill the knowledge he possesses, and digest his thoughts with art, that every thing which he says may be considered, only as hinting what his discretion conceals. He must employ able agents to second his views, without betraying his defects, and attach himself to superiors, full of ignorance and vanity, whose judgment may be blinded by praise. He ought to impose upon those who are dependent upon him by the reserve which he maintains; and deceive, by his pretension to THE pain which is felt when we are first talent, those from whom he hopes for assist-transplanted from our native soil,-when the ance. In a word, he must constantly avoid evliving branch is cut from the parent tree,-is ery trial to which his true value might be asone of the most poignant which we have to certained. Thus, harassed like a criminal endure through lite. There are after griefs who dreads the discovery of his guilt, he which wound more deeply, which leave behind knows that à penetrating mind can detect the them scars never to be effaced, which bruise starched ignorance, in the reserve of gravity, the spirit and sometimes break the heart: but and discover, in the enthusiasm of flattery, never, never so keenly do we feel the want of the affected animation of a frigid heart. The love, the necessity of being loved, and the efforts of an ambitious man are constantly emsense of utter desertion, as when we first ployed to display and to preserve the laboured leave the haven of home, and are, as it were, manner of superior talent. He at once expe- pushed off upon the stream of life.

The author of the Inquiry into the Life and Writings of Homer, talking of Demetrius's commentary, says, “ there he ascertained the real places of Homer's descriptions, and pointed out the scenes of the remarkable actions. He shewed where the Greeks had drawn up their ships; where Achilles encamped with his Myrmidons; where Hector drew up the Trojans; and from what country came the auxiliaries." It is astonishing with what boldness these things are said, and with what facility they are admitted. If any judgment is to be formed of Demetrius's whole work, from riences the uneasiness which arises from the the allusions to, and extracts from it in Strabo, trouble he must undergo, and from the conhe destroyed rather than established the re-sciousness of his own humiliation. In order ceived opinions upon the subject, and as for the particular points abovementioned, we have no hint that he touched upon them at all.

to attain his object, therefore, his attention must constantly be turned to the recollection of his own contracted abilities.

Those who have seen the plains near cape If you suppose, on the contrary, that the Janissary, or even have looked at the map of ambitious man possesses a superior genius, an the country, may with Homer before them, be energetick soul, his passion demands success. able to find objections to the supposed site of He must repress, he must curb every feeling the war, which have escaped Mr. Bryant, and which could raise any obstacle to his desire. other inquiries, but they may, perhaps, be in- He must not even be deterred by the wounds clined to think, that if the Greeks of Phrygia of remorse, which attend the performance of were wrong in their conjectures, no such dis- actions at which conscience revolts; but the covery will ever be made of the true positions, constraint which present circumstances reas shall be allowed on all hands to be unobjec- quire, is a source of real pain. The dictates tionable. The present plain of the Mendere of our own sentiments cannot be outraged towards cape Janissary is certainly the plain of with impunity. He whose ambition prompts Troy of those Greeks; but the only resem-him to support in the tribune an opinion which blance which a three weeks residence on the spot, with the poet in my hand, enabled me to find out between that plain and Homer's scene, was that which, in the eyes of Fluellen, made

his pride disdains, which his humanity condemns, which the justice of his mind rejects, experiences a painful feeling, independent even of the reflection by which he may be

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Southey's Life of Nelson.

HABIT.

AN action to become habitual is at first attended with a low degree of pleasure, and often even with a sensation of considerable pain. Taking snuff, smoking tobacco, and drinking fermented or distilled liquors, are not originally pleasing. Men are influenced to begin

such habits by some other motive than the gratification of the senses, such as regard to health, the love of company, emulation, and the like.

The speediest and surest method of acquiring a habit, is by the repetition of the action at regular and moderate intervals. A rapid succession in a very short time, or a very slow succession through a considerable length of time, or an irregular succession of actions in any time, will not produce the habit. In the first case, the organs would grow weary, the vibrations would not have time to fix, pain

The frequent regular repetition of an action produces facility and dexterity in the performance of it. By the law of association the actions gradually cling to and generate each other, without the intervention of the volunta

would be excited, and disgust would follow.ishes, and even after it is become almost im-
In the second, the tendency to vibrate in a perceptible, may be explained thus. The
particular direction would be lost before a sec- simple sensible pleasure of the action consti-
ond impulse was given. In the third case, tutes a very small part of the actual gratifica-
the associations would want that regular con- tion. The pleasurable feelings, which have ac-
nection which is necessary to constitute fixed companied the progress of the habit, having
habit.
associated themselves with the persons, pla-
ces, actions, and other circumstances which
have been the usual adjuncts of the situation
in which the habit has been contracted, have
thus, as it were, transferred a lustre to those
objects, which totally disappears when the
habit is interrupted. The student cannot rel-
ish his author, nor the disputant his argument,
if he is denied the accustomed indulgence of
his pipe: nor can the convivial man enjoy the
company, or the conversation of his friends, if
the bottle does not circulate with the usual
freedom. Thus by the power of association
the real pleasure of the gratification of habit
is in exact proportion to the pain of want,
though the immediate sensible pleasure may
be lost.

ry power.

Associated circumstances never fail to excite the habitual inclination to the performance of the action at the regular time. The removal of the table-cloth and the appearance of the bottle excite the desire of wine; the return of the season reminds the sportsman of his dogs and gun, the fine lady of her routs and parties, and the school-boy of his skates and snow-balls. Hence it follows, that if the associated circumstances are interrupted, the desire is not excited, at least in so great a degree. And this consideration leads to the best and indeed the only effectual means of breaking off inconvenient or or bad habits, namely, by resolutely changing the associated circumstances, flying from seducing company, altering the course of life, and the like.

A person often suffers more from the denial of a factitious inclination, than from resisting a natural appetite. But the pleasure, arising from the indulgence of a habit, is associated with a greater variety of circumstances, and is therefore more moderate, and more permanent, than the gratification of an instinctive feeling, which, however exquisite, is of very limited duration.

The progress of the pleasure of gratification, and of the pain of denial, in the case of habits, is far from bearing an exact, or at least an obvious ratio to each other.

The action which becomes habitual is perhaps originally in a slight degree painful. By repetition the pain gradually diminishes, and the uneasy sensations subside within the limits of pleasure. But by degrees this pleasure vanishes, and the action is associated with ideas or sensations which are scarcely perceptible, and becomes secondarily automatick; so that it is performed without any consciousness of the operation.

The progress of the pain of denial is very different. It advances with the pleasure of gratification till this rises to its highest degree, it continues increasing while this declines, and is then strongest and most insupportable when the pleasure of gratification is totally lost, and the action is performed without any exertion of the will. The truth of this observation is apparent in the common habits of smoking tobacco, and of taking snuff, and even in the odious custom of dram-drinking: and it will be found to be equally applicable to habits of the most important practical tendency.

In this state an habitual affection is said to be disinterested, because it has no further end in view than its own immediate gratification, or the removal of the present pain. When it has advanced to this stage, habit has attained its highest degree, and cannot, without the utmost difficulty, be opposed or changed. Moral habits, when they are thus formed and matured, constitute the perfection, either of the virtuous or the vicious character. Disinterested benevolence is the highest eminence of virtue, disinterested malignity the lowest stage of vice.

That the pain of denial should increase while the sensible pleasure of the habit dimin

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it

:

Men fall insensibly under the power of haband it is often remarked that the influence of habit is most conspicuous, and even irresistible, where the subject of it is least aware of his bondage, and is most forward in boasting of his liberty.

POETRY.

SELECTED.

VIRTUE.

BELSHAM.

VIRTUE, the strength and beauty of the soul,
It pleases and it lasts ;-a happiness
That, even above the smiles and frowns of fate,
Exalts great Nature's favourites: a wealth
That ne'er encumbers, nor to baser hands
Can be transferred. It is the only good
Man justly boasts of, or can call his own.
Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd ;
Or dealt by chance, to shield a lucky knave,

Or throw a fairer sunshine on a fool.

But for one end, one much neglected use,
Are riches worth your care: (for Nature's wants
Are few, and without opulence supplied.)
This noble end is to produce the soul;
To shew the virtues in their fairest light;
To make humanity the minister
Of bounteous Providence ; and teach the breast
That generous luxury the good enjoy.
Oh, blest of heav'n, whom not the languid songs
Of luxury, not the inviting bribes

Of sordid wealth, nor all the gaudy spoils
Of pageant honour can seduce to leave
Those ever blooming sweets, which from the store
Of Nature fair imagination culls
To charm th' enliven'd soul! For him, the spring
Distils her dews, and from the silken gem

Its lucid leaves unfolds: for him the hand

Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch
With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn.
Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings;
And still new beauties meet his lonely walk,
And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze
Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes
The setting sun's effulgence, not a strain
From all the tenants of the warbling shade
Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake
Fresh pleasure, unreproved. When lightnings fire
The arch of heav'n, and thunders rock the ground;
When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air,
And ocean, groaning from the lowest bed,
Heaves his tempestuous billows to the sky :
Amid the mighty uproar, while below

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DULCE ET DECORUM EST PRO PATRIA MORI.

DEAR is the tie, that links the anxious sire
To the fond babe that prattles round his fire;
Dear is the love, that prompts the generous youth
His sire's fond cares and drooping age to soothe ;
Dear is the brother, sister, husband, wife,
Dear all the charities of social life

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But not th' endearing springs that fondly move
To filial duty or parental love,

Nor all the ties that kindred bosoms bind,
Nor all the friendships' holy wreaths entwin'd,
Are half so dear, so potent to control
The generous workings of the patriot soul,
As is that holy voice, that cancels all
Those ties, and bids him for his country fall.
At this high summons, with undaunted zeal
He bares his breast; invites th' impending steel:
Smiles at the hand that deals the fatal blow,
Nor heaves one sigh for all he leaves below.

MAIDEN PASSION.

FROM BLAND'S GREEK ANTHOLOGY.

Agathias, 23. III. 41.

Go, idle, amorous boys,

What are your cares and joys,

To love, that swells the longing virgin's breast?
A flame half hid in doubt,

Soon kindled, soon burnt out,

A blaze of momentary heat at best!

Haply you well may find

(Proud priv❜lege of your kind)

Some friend to share the secret of your heart;

Or if your inbred grief

Admit of such relief,

The dunce, the chace, the play, assuage your smart.

Whilst we, poor hapless maids,
Condemn'd to pine in shades,

And to our dearest friends our thoughts deny,
Can only sit and weep,

While all around us sleep,
Unpitied languish and unheeded die.

EPIGRAMME.

AVOIR l'esprit bas et vulgaire
Manger, dormir, et ne rien faire,
Ne rein savoir, n'apprendre rien ;
C'est le naturel d'Isabelle,
Qui semble pour tout entretien
Dire seulement-Je suis belle.
To have a talent base and low,
To live in state of vegetation,
To eat, drink, nothing learn or know,
Such is the genius of Miss Kitty,
Who seems for all her conversation,
To say-Look at me-I am pretty.

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR
JOHN PARK,

BY MUNROE & FRANCIS,

NO. 4 CORNHILL.

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

DEVOTED TO POLITICKS AND BELLES LETTRES.

VOL. I.

POLITICAL.

FOR THE BOSTON SPECTATOR.

:

THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. THIS instrument appeared a very beautiful structure, when just from the hands of its creators. It certainly was beautiful; it blended the antique and modern style-it displayed symmetry and proportion-its columns were made of materials, which promised to be lasting. There was but one defect; it was by no means adapted to the nature of such beings as those, for whose use it was formed it was calculated for a people divested of human passions, and exempt from those vices which alone make government necessary. It could not be said that the constitution was not good enough for us, if we had been good enough for the constitution. Its provisions for the security of our liberty and rights were so ample, it left us nothing to apprehend, but from a bad system of administration. It was supposed that the reservation of a power in the people to amend, as might seem necessary from experience of its operation, was its most striking

perfection.

We are not disposed to imagine, that men so distinguished for their wisdom, as those venerable statesmen, who produced our national compact, did really suppose this was an excellence, on which they could rely. We rather imagine it was a condition which they thought necessary to prevent its rejection. If it failed, by a defect in the mode of its administration the people had the power of changing the administration, if they chose, without altering the constitution. The only case that could require any amendment would be, where a wrong administration was popular. Could it then be expected that a people, incapacitated by their own corruption to reform the administration, should be capable of obviating evils in the theory of the government, to which they were attached in practice? Man is certainly an inconsistent being, but his inconsistency is not of this kind; which supposes that, at the same time, our passions should control our reason, and our reason control our passions.

One or more amendments in the constitution have been proposed, which undoubtedly would have obviated evils that have grown out of a corrupt administration. But the administration was popular, or those evils would have been remedied by a change of rulers ;-and what was the fate of the proposed amendments? Rejected by the people of course. This being the case, we venture to say, an alteration for the better will never be proposed, but by the minority, and therefore never will prevail, by voluntary suffrage.

Reasoning and experience therefore teach us, that it is the duty of the real friends of our country to cherish a sacred respect for the federal constitution, such as it is, until it be found necessary to appeal to other means than votes. It is indeed a happy circumstance that the rage of folly, which has brought upon us many calamities, has not been directed against our form of government. Efforts have been made, and are now making, to weaken what was already too weak for our vices-but something like a political religion

BOSTON, SATURDAY, JUNE 4, 1814.

among the people, has hitherto checked the spirit of innovation. This is the best feature that remains in the character of our country; and we trust and believe that the violent democracy of Pennsylvania, which has produced an attack on the senate of the United States, will find a large portion of American citizens, even of those professing the same political creed, who will oppose this proposition as unnecessary and dangerous.

all the other states.

NO. XXII.

down so rapidly; and at a time when, if peace is not soon effected, we may expect fighting in good earnest will be necessary

TYRANNIES.

THERE are two great tyrannies, the tyranny of a despot, and that of a multitude. Of these the most dreadful is popular tyranny. The despot may receive the just blow, and fall from his high elevation; nothing is required but the arm of a Brutus: but the destruction of the many-headed monster is an herculean labour. In despotick states, as well as in republicks, the downfal of the ministers of government is annually effected by the death of the parties. In the former they quietly yield up their breath; in the latter, the struggle is attended with a dreadful convulsion, and the superior faction gains the ascendency, after a mighty carnage. Dr. Thornton.

INJURY AND FORBEARANCE. "THE last Act laying an Embargo," says Governour Strong, in his speech to the Legislature," interdicted the right of navigating from port to port within the limits of the state, and fishing on its coasts; from this species of restraint, we have probably suffered more than But though these provisions, and other parts of the act, were generally thought to be infringements of the constitution, FRENCH EPOCHS. we have not heard of any violence in opposing "THE French literati distinguish three rethem. Our fellow citizens are therefore enti-markable epochas in their history. The first tled to much credit, for the exercise of that commences with the opening of the sixteenth forbearance, which was recommended by the century, after the revival of classical learning late Legislature." and the polite arts in Italy; and from thence they were brought into France under the protection and encouragement of Francis the First, cotemporary with Henry the Eighth of England, a prince whose temper sympathized in many respects, with that of the French monarch; in emulation of whom, probably, he not only paturized letters, but cultivated them himseit. This era of Francis the First, they called le siécle des savans, the age of learning.

THE ARMY.

THE measures which the government is taking with this creature of its folly afford a new evidence of its increasing weakness, which must produce among our democrats a stare of surprise and confusion It will be recollected that the necessity of raising an augmented military force to carry on the invasion of Canada with effect, success, and honour, was the theme of every ministerial sponter, during the last session of Congress. To accomplish this grand object, an enormous bounty and other inducements were offered to secure the enlistment of soldiers. To meet these and other war expenses, about thirty millions of dollars were appropriated, and ten millions have actually been borrowed already. We immediately heard of soldiers enlisting, in all parts of the Union-but what comes next. An order from government, dismissing a legion of officers, from the publick service, with three months' wages and home!!

their expenses

"The second epocha is marked by the splendid reign of Louis XIV.; and is esteemed in France le siécle du génie, the age of genius.

"The third, the reign of Louis XVI., they have thought proper to style le siécle du gout, the age of taste.'

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Thus far, the progress of intellect, if we admit the scale, appears to be ascending. But if the French literati do not blush to continue their annals,they will denounce the Bonapartean dynasty as le siecle du sang-the age of blood.

EUROPE.

ONE cannot contemplate the solemn events This really looks formidable! This prom-which have recently crowded upon each other, ises a summer of tremendous carnage! The hastening to the glorious close-a general advocates of "Free trade and sailors' rights" peace, without those strong emotions which whom we recently saw parading our streets, a climax of sublimity inspires. We discover waving the emblem of their disinterested zeal, the wonderful hand of Providence-the mighty are now themselves turned adrift by Mr. arm of him who rules terribly in battle, amidst Madison ! the sanguinary struggle. We cannot but adore that mercy, which never scourges but to reform or improve and which restores repose to man, when his moral character is adapted to its preservation. Happy Europe-thy crimes are expiated! Unhappy America, having wantonly spurned the best blessings heaven ever showers on nations, courted misery, and sacrificed your own peace, your day of trial is come.

The voluminous history of this Canadian war, which government has published, from the edifying despatches of the officers in that quarter, may probably have led to this expedient. Officers without men have succeeded so miserably, it may be intended to try men without officers.

But to be serious-what does this mean? Have government had in pay such a host of supernumerary officers, for the purposes of political corruption? Or are the soldiers all dead, whom they commanded? Or, after all the vapouring and threats which we have heard, is the army establishment dwindling

There is no miracle, though there is an Al mighty Providence, in this. Sooner or later the relation between effect and cause in the moral world will always evince the prevalencs of an eternal rule of right. The end of our calamities will be the good of our country, an i

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