66

under excruciating torments. Sometimes the demons attacked one part of the country, and sometimes another; and the object of the learned and Reverend Doctor's book, is to authenticate the very tragical instances in which they infested the houses and afflicted the persons of the inhabitants. Flashy people," says he, " may burlesque these things, but when hundreds of the most sober people in a country, where they have as much mother-wit certainly as the rest of mankind, know them to be true, nothing but the absurd and froward spirit of sadducism can question them. I have not mentioned so much as one thing, that will not be justified, if it be required, by the oaths of more consistent persons than any that can ridicule these odd phenomena." And certainly few facts, if we may judge by the evidence, have been better established than the existence of witchcraft, and the wars of prodigious spirits in the provinces of New England, during the time of Dr. Mather. We have accounts of trials conducted with all the forms and implements of jurisprudence, in which many persons were convicted of holding communication with demons; and we have, what is still more remarkable, voluntary confessions of parties, acknowledging themselves in league with the devil. So far, therefore, as the records and archives of courts of law can verify the truth of any investigation, we must believe that many of the things which Dr. Mather has set forth, are not only true as historical events, but also naturally incident, however rarely, to the condition and fortunes of men. It is not for us, however, to argue this matter, but many of the Doctor's stories are really striking, reviewing them merely as connexions of fancy, and some of the phenomena which he describes, and boasts of having witnesses to confirm, have in different ages been seen in similar forms, and in countries far remote from New England. The prodigy of the Cross which Constantine and his army beheld in the air, is of this description; and the apocalypse vouchsafed to Godfrey, in the Crusade, is of the same character. Dr. Mather describes noises and hurtlings heard in the air, a short time prior to the Indian war of 1675, accompanied with the beating of drums, as in a battle. But without entering into any particular disquisition concerning these omens and auguries, we shall here present a version of his story of the naval apparition, only premising that it contains several particulars which the Doctor has not noticed, but which, we are persuaded, are not less true than those he has related.

A ship called "Noah's Dove," was preparing to sail from the port of Salem for "Old England," when a young man accompanied by his bride, came and engaged berths for himself and her, as passengers. No one in Salem was in the slightest degree acquainted with this handsome couple, nor did they themselves seek any acquaintance in the town; but until the vessel was ready, lived in the most secluded state. Their conduct was perfectly blameless, and their appearance was highly respectable; but the sharp-sighted people of Salem knew the prestigious appearances of the demons which afflicted the country, and they discerned something about them which could not be deemed otherwise than mysterious.

Many persons intending to revisit their friends in the old country, took passages also in the Noah's Dove; but the friends of some of them thought they were rash in doing so, and that it would be as well to learn something of their two questionable fellow-passengers, before hazarding themselves at sea with persons so unknown and singular. These admonitions gave occasion to much talk in Salem; but instead of having the effect intended, a fatal obstinacy became prevalent, and prevented every one who proposed to sail with the vessel, from paying the slightest attention to them. This strange infatuation only served to deepen the interest which the town took in the departure of the ship.

At last, the day appointed for her sailing arrived. Never had such a solemn day been seen in Salem; and, moreover, it happened to be a Friday; for the captain was not such a godly man as the mariners of Salem generally were in those days. A great multitude crowded the wharves, to see their relations embark, -all were sorrowful, and many in tears. At last, the ship hoisted the signal for sailing, and, wonderful to tell, at the same time that the flag was unfurled, a black bird, much like a raven, alighted on the hand of the town clock, and by its weight pushed it forward, some said full ten minutes. Every one who witnessed this sight, was struck with horror, and some laid hands upon their relations, to prevent them from embarking. But those who had engaged to go with the fated vessel, were wilful, and would not be controlled.

During these struggles, the two unknown strangers came also to embark, and she that was the bride was in tears, weeping bitterly. However, they stepped on board, and a sudden gust of wind at that moment, (the ship being cast loose from her moorings,) made her yaw off, and she was almost instantly at sea. The crowd, however, remained anxiously watching her progress, until she was out of sight. They then returned to their respective homes; and the whole conversation of Salem for that even. ing, was saddened with presentiments and forebodings concerning the Noah's Dove. In the course of the night, the breeze freshened into a gale, which before the morning was heightened to a tempest. The sea raged with tremendous fury, and the wrack of clouds that careered in the heavens, was scarcely less tumultuous than the waves of the angry ocean below. All the inhabitants of Salem were persuaded that the hurricane had something to do with the mysterious passengers in the Noah's Dove. Many were instinctively convinced, that the ship had perished, and resigned themselves to grief. For three days and three nights, the wrath of the storm was unmitigated. On the contrary, it seemed to increase; for although it was then midsummer, dreadful showers of hail, mingled with fire, and thunder, louder than had ever been heard before, pealed continually. No man could doubt the fate of the Noah's Dove. Indeed, it was the persuasion of all, that every vessel which was so unfortunate as to be within the sweep and phrenzy of the winds and waves, could not survive the vehemence of their distraction.

The sun, on the morning of the fourth day, burst through the clouds in great splendourthe winds almost instantly became calm-the hail ceased-the thunder was mute-and the billows, from raging surges, rolled themselves into a noiseless swell. A change so abrupt, convinced the pious citizens of Salem that the doom of the vessel was sealed; and although it was in vain to expect that the sea would present them with any sight of her wreck, or of that of other vessels, they hastened in great numbers down to the shore, where they stood until sunset, gazing and wondering, with anxiety and sorrow.

Just as the sun disappeared, a sound of exclamation and hurry, accompanied by a bustling movement, arose from a group of persons who were standing on the top of a rock, considerably elevated above the crowd, and some cried that a vessel was in sight. The whole multitude, on hearing this, were thrown into commotion, and fluctuated to and fro, eager to catch a glimpse of this unexpected phenome

non.

It was, however, long before she came distinctly in sight, for any wind which was then blowing was off the shore, and against the vessel; insomuch, that an old grey-headed sailor among the spectators, declared that it was impossible she could work into the harbour that night. But, to their astonishment, she still came forward, with her yards squared and her sails full, notwithstanding she was steering in the wind's eye; before her hull could be properly seen, it was the opinion of

all who beheld her that it was the Noah's Dove.

By this time twilight was much faded, but it began to be observed that the ship brightened, as if some supernatural light shone upon her, and upon her alone. This wonderful circumstance was not long matter of doubt, or question, for, when the stars appeared, she was seen as distinctly as if she had been there in the blaze of noon-day, and a panic of dread and terror fell upon the whole multitude.

The Rev. Zebedee Stebbin, who was then in the crowd, an acute man, and one who feared the Lord, knew that the apparent ship was a device of the prestigious spirits, and that it behoved all present to pray for protection against them; he therefore mounted upon a large stone, and called on the spectators to join him in the 46th Psalm, which he himself began, repeating the line aloud, and then singing. The shores echoed with the solemn melody, and the rising wind wafted it along the increasing waves.

Whilst the worship was going on, the sound of sudden cries and lamentations, as of persons in jeopardy, was heard in the air; the ship at the same time came straight on into the harbour, and being illuminated as described, was seen rigged out in every part exactly like the Noah's Dove. Many of the spectators saw their friends on board, and would have shouted to them with joy, but there was something dismal and strange in their appearance, which awed them to remain silent. The stranger young man and his bride were seen tenderly embracing each other, but no noise or voice was heard on board. At that moment the masts and rigging fell into the sea as if they had been struck down with lightning, and signals of distress were displayed, but still no sound was heard.

The multitude suspended their breathing, convinced that the vision before them was the unsubstantial creation of the prestigious spirits. This belief entered all their minds simultaneously, and in the same moment the mighty spectre vanished.

The Noah's Dove was never heard of, and it was believed that in that hour, riven by the lightning and the tempest, she had foundered.

"Count me not," says the Rev. Dr. Mather, at the conclusion of his narration, "struck with the Livian superstition, in reporting prodigies for which I have such incontestable proofs."

NANTUCKET.

LADY BYRON'S LETTER TO MR.

MOORE.

"I have disregarded various publications in which facts within my own knowledge have been grossly misrepresented; but I am called upon to notice some of the erroneous statements proceeding from one who claims to be considered as Lord Byron's confidential and authorized friend. Domestic details ought not to be intruded on the public attention; if, however, they are so intruded, the persons affected by them have a right to refute injurious charges. Mr. Moore has promulgated his own impressions of private events in which I was most nearly concerned, as if he possessed a competent knowledge of the subject. Having survived Lord Byron, I feel increased reluctance to advert to any circumstances connected with the period of my marriage; nor is it now my intention to disclose them, further than may be indispensably requisite for the end I have in view. Self-vindication is not the motive which actuates me to make this appeal, and the spirit of accusation is unmingled with it; but when the conduct of my parents is brought forward in a disgraceful light, by the passage selected from Lord Byron's Letters, and by the remarks of his biographer, I feel bound to justify their characters from imputations which I know to be false.

The passages from Lord Byron's Letters to which I refer, are the aspersion on my mother's character, p. 648, I. 4: My child is

very well, and flourishing, I hear; but I must see also. I feel no disposition to resign it to the contagion of its grandmother's society.' The assertion of her dishonourable conduct in employing a spy, p. 645, 1. 7, &c. A Mrs. C. (now a kind of house-keeper and spy of Lady N's) who, in her better days was a washerwoman, is supposed to be-by the learnedvery much the occult cause of our domestic discrepancies. The seeming exculpation of myself, in the extract, p. 646, with the words immediately following it her nearest relatives are a -;' where the blank clearly implies something too offensive for publication. These passages tend to throw suspicion on my parents, and give reason to ascribe the separation either to their direct agency, or that of offi cious spies' employed by them.-From the following part of the narrative, p. 642, it must also be inferred that an undue influence was exercised by them for the accomplishment of this purpose. It was in a few weeks after the latter communication between us (Lord Byron and Mr. Moore) that Lady Byron adopted the determination of parting from him. She had left London at the latter end of January, on a visit to her father's house, in Leicestershire, and Lord Byron was in a short time to follow her. They had parted in the utmost kindness -she wrote him a letter full of playfulness and affection, on the road; and immediately on her arrival at Kirkby Mallory, her father wrote to acquaint Lord Byron that she would return to him no more,' In my observations upon this statement, I shall, as far as possible, avoid touching on any matters relating personally to Lord Byron and myself. The facts are left London for Kirkby Mallory, the residence of my father and mother, on the 15th of January, 1816. Lord Byron had signified to me in writing, (January 6th) his absolute desire that I should leave London on the earliest day that I could conveniently fix. It was not safe for me to undertake the fatigue of a journey sooner than the 15th. Previously to my departure, it had been strongly impressed on my mind, that Lord Byron was under the influence of insanity. This opinion was derived in a great measure from the communications made to me by his nearest relatives and personal attendant, who had more opportunities than myself of observing him during the latter part of my stay in town. It was even represented to me that he was in danger of destroying himself. With the concurrence of his family, I had consulted Dr. Baillie as a friend, (January 8th) respecting this supposed malady. On acquainting him with the case, and with Lord Byron's desire that I should leave London, Dr. Baillie thought that my absence might be advisable as an experiment, assuming the fact of mental derangement; for Dr. Baillie, not having had access to Lord Byron, could not pronounce a positive opinion on that point. He enjoined that in correspondence with Lord Byron, I should avoid all but light and soothing topics. Under these impressions, I left London, determined to follow the advice given by Dr. Baillie. Whatever might have been the nature of Lord By. ron's conduct towards me from the time of my marriage, yet, supposing him to be in a state of mental alienation, it was not for me, nor for any person of common humanity, to manifest, at that moment, a sense of injury. On the day of my departure, and again on my arrival at Kirkby, January 16th, I wrote to Lord Byron in a kind and cheerful tone, according to those medical directions.

The last letter was circulated, and employed as a pretext for the charge of my having been subsequently influenced to "desert" my husband. It has been argued, that I parted from Lord Byron in perfect harmony;-that feelings incompatible with any deep sense of injury had dictated the letter which I addressed to him: and that my sentiments must have been

"The officious spies of his privacy." p 650. ↑ "The deserted husband."-p. 651.

changed by persuasion and interference when I was under the roof of my parents. These assertions and inferences are wholly destitute of foundation. When I arrived at Kirkby Mallory, my parents were unacquainted with the existence of any causes likely to destroy my prospects of happiness; and when I communicated to them the opinion which had been formed concerning Lord Byron's state of mind, they were most anxious to promote his restoration by every means in their power. They assured those relations who were with him in London, that "they would devote their whole care and attention to the alleviation of his malady," and hoped to make the best arrangements for his comfort, if he could be induced to visit them. With these intentions my mother wrote on the 17th to Lord Byron, inviting him to Kirkby Mallory. She had always treated him with an affectionate consideration and indulgence, which extended to every little peculiarity of his feelings. Never did an irritating word escape her lips in her whole intercourse with him. The accounts given me after I left Lord Byron by the persons in constant intercourse with him, added to those doubts which had before transiently occurred to my mind, as to the reality of the alleged disease, and the reports of his medical attendant, were far from establishing the existence of any thing like lunacy.

Under this uncertainty, I deemed it right to communicate to my parents, that if I were to consider Lord Byron's past conduct as that of a person of sound mind, nothing could induce me to return to him. It therefore appeared expedient both to them and myself to consult the ablest advisers. For that object, and also to obtain still further information re

|

tertained, I would not, either professionally or otherwise, take any part towards effecting it. Believe me, very faithfully yours, STEPH. LUSHINGTON.

Great George street, Jan. 31, 1830.”

I have only to observe, that if the statements on which my legal advisers (the late Sir Samuel Romilly and Dr. Lushington,) formed their opinions, were false, the responsibility and the odium should rest with me only. I trust that the facts which I have here briefly recapitulated will absolve my father and mother from all accusations with regard to the part they took in the separation between Lord Byron and myself. They neither originated, instigated, nor advised that separation; and they cannot be condemned for having afforded to their daughter the assistance and protection which she claimed.-There is no other near reiative to vindicate their memory from insult. I am therefore compelled to break the silence which I had hoped always to observe, and to solicit from the readers of Lord Byron's Life an impartial consideration of the testimony extorted from me. A. J. NOEL BYRON.

Hanger Hill, Feb. 19, 1830.

Varieties.

An Incident which happened to the Rev. Author, in Paris.-Perhaps a more lively idea may be conceived of the manner in which Sunday is observed, or rather disregarded, in this gay city, by the following incidents, in which I was undesignedly implicated, than by any general remarks. By a mistake, which might naturally enough occur to one journeyspecting the appearances which seemed to in- ing from place to place, and having his mind dicate mental derangement, my mother deter-occupied by a variety of objects, I had lost a mined to go to London. She was empowered by me to take legal opinions on a written statement of mine, though I had then reasons for reserving a part of the case from the knowledge even of my father and mother. Being convinced by the result of those inquiries, and by the tenour of Lord Byron's proceedings, that the notion of insanity was an illusion, I no longer hesitated to authorize such measures as were necessary, in order to secure me from being ever again placed in his power. Conformably with this resolution, my father wrote to him on the 2d of February, to propose an amicable separation. Lord Byron at first rejected this proposal; but when it was distinctly notified to him, that if he persisted in his refusal, recourse must be had to legal measures, he agreed to sign a deed of separation. Upon applying to Dr. Lushington, who was intimately acquainted with all the circumstances, to state in writing what he recollected upon this subject, I received from him the following letter, by which it will be manifest that my mother cannot have been actuated by any hostile or ungenerous motive towards Lord Byron:

My dear Lady Byron,-I can rely upon the accuracy of my memory for the following statement: I was originally consulted by Lady Noel on your behalf, whilst you were in the country; the circumstances detailed by her were such as justified a separation, but they were not of that aggravated description as to render such a measure indispensable. On Lady Noel's representation, I deemed a reconciliation with Lord Byron practicable, and felt most sincerely a wish to aid in effecting it. There was not on Lady Noel's part any exag. geration of the facts; nor, so far as I could perceive, any determination to prevent a return to Lord Byron; certainly none was expressed when I spoke of a reconciliation. When you came to town in about a fortnight, or perhaps more, after my first interview with Lady Noel, I was for the first time informed by you of facts utterly unknown, as I have no doubt, to Sir Ralph and Lady Noel. On receiving this additional information my opinion was entirely changed: I declared my opinion, and added, that if such an idea should be cu

day in my reckoning, and Sunday came, when I supposed it to be Saturday. Having some business to transact, I breakfasted as usual at a cafe, and repaired to the booksellers, all of whose shops I found open. The streets and quays were thronged as at other times; the stores were all open; the market-places were crowded with buyers and sellers; and in no quarter did there appear the least cessation of business, to remind one of the day of rest. After being engaged till dinner time, I went out in search of refreshment. The sound of labour was dying away-the tradesmen wero closing their shops-the bells of Notre Dame were pealing forth, and large groups of welldressed citizens were collecting in the gardens and Boulevards. Presuming that it night be the day of some festival in the Romish calender, I made inquiry, and was answered that it was Sunday.

Whaeton's Travels.

About a century ago, one Captain Walton, of the British navy, having been detached from the main fleet, on a particular service, announced his success to the admiral in these laconic terms: 66 Sir, we have taken and destroyed all the Spanish ships and vessels, which were upon the coast, as per margin.”

The following letter from Samuel Boyse, a poor poet of the 18th century, to the editor of the Gentleman's Magazine, may let some into the secret of mere literary pleasures, independent of pecuniary aid.

Sir, I wrote you yesterday an account of my unhappy case. I am every moment threatened to be turned out here, because I have not money to pay for my bed two nights past, which is usually paid beforehand; and I am loth to go into the counter, till I can see if my affair can possibly be made up. I hope therefore you will have the humanity to send me half a guinea for support, till I can finish your papers in my hands. The Ode on the British Nation, I hope to have done to-day, and want a proof copy of that part of Stowe you design for the present Magazine, that it may be improved as far as possible from your assistance. Your papers are but ill transcribed. I agree

with you as to St. Augustine's case. I hum-
bly intreat your answer, having not tasted any
thing since Tuesday evening I came here; and
my coat will be taken off my back for the
charge of the bed, so that I must go into pri-
son naked, which is too shocking for me to
think of. I am, with sincere regard, sir, your
unfortunate humble servant,
S. BOYSE.

Crown Coffee House, Grocer's Alley,
Poultry, July 21, 1742.

Method of obtaining Skeletons of small Fishes. Some time since I was employed in making observations on the produce of some of the ponds in the neighbourhood of London; and I discovered that the tadpole was a very serviceable animal in anatomizing the very small fishes, as well as some of the larger sorts, generally found in such places; the tadpole acting in the same manner as the ant. I have tried the experiment several times, and on various sorts of fishes, and was always successful, particularly with that very little one called by children Stickleback: even in these the skeleton was at all times perfect. My method is this: I suspend the fish by threads attached to the head and tail, in a horizontal position, in a jar of water such as is found in the pond, and change it often till the tadpoles have finished their work, which if two or three tadpoles are allowed to work on so small a fish as the species just mentioned, they will complete in twenty-four hours. I always select the smallest sort of tadpoles, as they can insinuate themselves between the smallest bones, without destroying their articulation.-T. Bluett.

Lightning Rods.-It is most curious to find, however, that this very conductor or rod, which so many men of genius, learning, and ingenuity, have been at the pains to complete, -which in fact has been always regarded as one of the proudest trophies of science, was known and employed by a people of no more refined cultivation than the wild peasantry of Lombardy. The Abbè Berthollet, in his work on the Electricity of Meteors, describes a practice used on one of the bastions of the Castle of Duino, on the shores of the Adriatic, which has existed from time immemorial, and which is literally neither more nor less than the process that enabled Franklin to bring down lightning from the clouds. An iron staff, it seems, was erected on the bastion of this castle during the summer, and it was part of the duty of the sentinel, whenever a storm threatened, to raise an iron pointed halberd towards this staff. If, upon the approach of the halberd, sparks were emitted (which, to the scientific mind, would show that the staff was charged with electricity from a thunder cloud), then the sentinel made sure that a storm impended, and he tolled a bell which sent forth the tidings of danger to the surrounding country. Nothing can be more delightfully amiable than the paternal care of its subjects, which this interesting provision of the local government exemplified. The admonishing sound of the bell was obeyed like a preternatural signal from the depths of the firmament; shepherds were seen hurrying over the valleys, urging their flocks from the exposed fields to places of shelter. The fishing boats, with which the coast of the Adriatic was generally studded, forthwith began to crowd sail and make for the nearest port, whilst many a supplication was put up from many a gentle and devout heart on shore, before some hallowed shrine, for the safety of the little fleet.

ed with portraits of the Chiefs who have visited the capital as deputies from their several tribes, and who are complimented by having their likenesses painted at the public expense. This array is very imposing, and the portraits highly interesting. There are also preserved here, presents from the Indians, specimens of their ingenuity, implements, dresses, and a variety of aboriginal curiosities.

In the treaty room I was shown a cabinet containing all the treaties to which the United States is a party. Each is elegantly written upon parchment, in the form of a folio book, the cover of velvet, variously ornamented with gold, silver, or silk embroidery. Appended to each volume is a heavy cord of silk and gold, or silver, terminating in two large tassels of the same, to which is fastened the seal of the foreign nation, impressed upon wax, and enclosed in a silver box, on the lid of which the arms of the party is embossed. The English treaties are bound in crimson, ornamented

with gold crowns; the American in purple,

worked with silk. I examined with interest the autographs of nearly all the sovereigns now in power, and of those from whom the sceptre has in one way or another departed.

In a third room were exhibited, amongst other sights, a number of presents conferred by foreign potentates upon American citizens, and which they deposited here to avoid the disfranchisement denounced by the Constitution. A gold snuff-box, adorned with diamonds, presented by the late Emperor of Russia to your townsman Mr. Harris, is valued at $15,000-In the collection were some splendid medals, swords, guns, &c.

1 cannot avoid contrasting the meanness of the building occupied by the Departments, with the Capitol and the President's Mansion. It is due to the federal city and to the government, that an edifice should be constructed, in which all the Secretaries, with their subalterns, might be accommodated.-Morning Journal.

Among the passengers in the Charlemagne, are three Osage Indians; who with three others were taken to France from N. Orleans, about three years since, by a Frenchman named Delaunay, who was acquainted with their language. His object was to exhibit thein as a "show," expecting thereby to reap a handsome profit. At first they attracted a good deal of attention: but after being some time in Paris, the Police put a stop to their public exhibition,-it is presumed on account of a remonstrance from Mr. Brown, the late Am. Minister. Since then they have been travelling in Italy, Switzerland and Germany,

and have suffered much from sickness and want. It appears that Mr. Delaunay, in the course of his journey, got into some difficulty on account of a former debt; and these poor creatures had to shift for themselves. Last summer three of them returned to Paris in

great distress. Mr. Barnet, our Consul, who their wants, and got up a subscription to pay is well known for his philanthropy, relieved their passage to the United States. Lafayette also interested himself very much in their behalf. They embarked in a ship bound to Savannah. Two of them died on

General

the passage by small pox. The other three, Kachichinka, Gutomy, his wife, and Machakilarango, who have now arrived in the Charlemagne, were sent out of the country by the French government. They are entirely destitute, and are now upon the Captain's hands. We trust that our city authorities will immediately relieve that gentleman from the burden, and take measures to send them back to their native forest. It is proper to add, that the passengers on board the C. raised a subscription in their behalf.-New York paper.

An Uncourtly Preacher-It is said, a young preacher, dilating before James's face on some matter highly offensive to him, the monarch

Apology for the Londoners-Why a man should be despised because he has passed the principal part of his life in a great capital, the seat of government, the centre of civilization, the abode or resort of every thing curious, beautiful and great, we do not precisely understand; nevertheless, it is a legitimate cause of laughter amongst Englishmen; and the native of the most insignificant village, and the inhabitant of any second or third-rate town, glories in his superiority over the Cockney. It is different in France, where the epithet Parisian has hitherto perhaps had too much influence as a stamp of approbation.-Foreign Quarterly Review.

The Children of Israel should either be treated as fellow creatures and brethren, or we should abandon all boasts about "the spread of knowledge," "the march of intellect," and the progress of liberal opinions.-Foreign Literary Gazette.

--

Fearful Believers.-I am not afraid of those tender and scrupulous consciences who are over-cautious of professing and believing too much if they are sincerely in the wrong, I The men I am afraid of are, the men who beforgive their errors and respect their integrity. lieve every thing, subscribe to every thing, and vote for every thing.-Bishop Shipley.

THE LITERARY PORT FOLIO.

It is intended that this journal shall contain such a variety of matter as may make it acceptable to ladies as well as to gentlemen; to the young as well as to the old. While we shall take care that nothing be admitted which would render the work unfit for any of these classes, we shall endeavour to procure for it sufficient ability to entitle it to the attention of all of them. To these ends we have secured an abundant supply of all foreign and do mestic journals and new books-and we ask the assistpublic. Upon this assistance we depend in a great deance of all who are qualified to instruct or amuse the

gree for our hopes of success, for however the abundant stores to which we have access, may enable us to supply matter highly interesting to our readers, we think it of even more importance to give them something peculiarly adapted to the present time and circumstances; soinething from home.

Communications should be addressed to "E. Littell for the Literary Port Folio,"-and subscriptions will be thankfully received by E. Littell & Brother, corner of Chestnut and Seventh streets, Philadelphia. Subscriptions are also received by Thomas C. Clarke, N.W. corner of Chestnut and Seventh streets,

Wanted-to solicit subscriptions for this work, a suitable person. Apply to E. Littell Brother.

No. 17.

A BURMAN ADVENTURE.

During the late service in Ava, my favourite amusement of an evening was to paddle

about in a canoe made out of the trunk of a

tree, and to visit any interesting objects that presented themselves on the banks of the majestic Irrawaddi, which in part of its course winds through beautiful wooded hills, the scene of many a skirmish, and afterwards rolls over golden sands to the Bay of Bengal. One

lovely evening I was gliding down the gentle current, and was admiring the luxuriant foliage of the tropical trees dipping their pendant branches into the stream, their leaves glittering with gold, and amongst which insects of the richest colours and of singular appearance were disporting themselves. Below an aged trunk lay two alligators crouching down, and seemingly enjoying the last rays of the sun. As my skiff approached, they turned a suspicious eye towards me, and then plunged their serrated backs under water. I held on my course, and saw at some distance in the jungle the gilded spire of a temple conspicuous over the dark green leaves.

So secluded a fane had an inviting air about it, and thinking that the enemy was at a distance, I pushed my canoe on shore, and shoul dering my paddle, wended my way through the entangled wood. The air was cool and refreshing, and I felt myself in high health and spirits.

With gentle murmur comes the breeze,
Just kissing as it passes by
The shutting flowers and leafy trees;

A twilight gloom pervades the woods, Through all their darkening solitudes. And neither were they silent; for besides the hum of myriads of insects, many curious little green parrots, about the size of a sparrow, chattered in a small and angry tone from the branches, and woodpeckers ran up the decayed stems, and chirped merrily, whilst transfixing their prey with their filiform tongues. On the ground, the occasional rustling of the withered leaves indicated the retreat of a striped

snake.

I arrived at an open spot, and on a gentle eminence the pagoda rose before me. The tall spire, surmounted by its gilded tee, or um. bralle of filagree iron-work, rested on its circular base, in which was a small dark shrine, with a grotesque door-way, to which a few broad steps led; the bells, with their leafshaped tongues, which hung round the tee, were agitated by the breeze, and emitted a wild and mournful chime. Those only who have lain awake amongst the Burman pagodas, and listened to their tinkling bells of different sizes and tones, can know the extraordinary sensations which they occasion. They always powerfully affected my feelings, and on this occasion, as heretofore, the spirit went wandering in a mournful reverie. All at once I was roused to a sense of my situation by a slight female scream; and a maiden in silk attire, with a few white flowers twisted in her hair, who had been beating rice at the door of a wooden building with a triple roof, ran into the jungle on perceiving me. I called to her to remain, but she disregarded me; so I entered the Poonghee, or Priest's house, near the pagoda, to examine it.

The principal room, raised on piles, some distance above the ground, was large and

clean. Here and there mats were spread on the floor: at the upper end were antique-looking chests, covered with glass of different colours, and a profusion of gilding; on these were models of pagodas, also richly gilt, and alabaster images of the Boodh, in a sitting posture, with their large ears resting on their shoulders, and their legs crossed under them. The chests contained the sacred writings on slips of ivory; and books in the vernacular characters, written with an iron style on palm leaves, lay on the mats. I was continuing my scrutiny of the apartment, when I heard rough voices outside; and as it struck me that it might be some stragglers from the army, I climbed up on a shelf, and there ensconced myself behind an idol, to observe who might enter. Presently three stout Burmans came left shoulders, bound round the waist, and in; their checked clothes thrown across their hanging to the knee, exactly the old Highland showed formidable calves to their legs, and the costume. On their feet they wore sandals, and muscles of the right arm were very conspicu

tied in a knot in front: and cigars were stuck through an orifice in the ears. Two of them had dhars in their hands, or curved swords, with the handles as long as the blades, most powerful weapons in decapitating or taking off an arm. The third carried on his shoulder a spear, ornamented with the tail of a Thibet

ous: on their heads were white and red cloths,

COW.

It was evident that they wanted to make my acquaintance, and for no friendly purposes; most likely to do my head the honour of being presented to his Majesty of the Golden Feet, and to impale my body by the river's side. I felt if I had by chance brought any weapon; I found nothing but my paddle, and was annoyed with myself for, indulging my propensity for adventures in so defenceless a state. Quietly I remained watching the Burmans, who looked narrowly round; cursed me for being out of the way, and then went out to look for me else. where. I remained in my elevated position for some time, and beginning to tire, thought I might venture to look after my canoe; so, tucking up my sleeves, and pulling my trowsers over my knees, with a handkerchief round my waist, I prepared for a run, and descending from my shelf, looked out at the door, and finding the coast clear, I was making towards the jungle, when, as ill-luck would have it, in crossing the open space in front of the pagoda, I saw my three friends near it. Like a good soldier, I sprang into a bush, and commenced a rapid retreat, as if the great enemy of mankind had been behind me. The moment they saw me, they set up a shout and dashed after me; away we went through the brushwood, in spite of thorns and snakes, opening a way through the branches, and scaring the birds which were settling themselves for the night. I heard my pursuers at some distance behind me, and was beginning to think that I had the best of the race, when at the edge of a ravine, which I had not seen before, I stumbled and fell over a fallen trunk. The foremost of the three was at my back in a moment, but fortunately I recovered myself in time to lend him a blow with my paddle, and then jumped over the bank. I expected them to come tumbling down after me, but they did not; and quickly regaining my canoe, I pushed off into the middle of the stream, and like Crusoe, "I saw them no more."

St. Petersburgh, June, 1829.

J. E. A.

AN INCIDENT AT NAVARINO. THE firing having ceased at Navarino, Sir Edward Codrington sent a Lieutenant on board Moharem Bey's ship, to offer any medical or

1830.

other assistance they might want. This vessel, with a crew of probably more than a thousand men, had but one medical officer on board, and he had, unfortunately, been almost the first man killed in the action. Her loss had been immense, and they had not thrown the dead overboard, nor removed their wounded to the cockpit, and the decks presented a most horrible scene of gore and mangled bodies. Amidst this frightful spectacle, about a dozen of the principal Turkish officers, superbly dressed, sat in the cabin upon crimson ottomans, smoking with inconceivable apathy, whilst slaves were handing them their coffee. Seeing the English uniform approach the cabin, they ordered ottomans and coffee for the Lieutenant, who, however, quickly told them that he had more important business to attend to. Ilo gave the Admiral's compliments, and offered any assistance. The Turk, with a frigid composure, calmly replied, that they stood in need of no assistance whatever. "Shall not our gravely replied the Turk; "wounded men surgeon attend to your wounded?" "No," ing to the Asia, and communicating this scene, want no assistance; they soon die." ReturnSir Edward, after some meditation, said, "Did you observe among them a remarkably fine, handsome man, with a beard more full and black than the rest?" "Yes, I observed him; he was sitting next to the Admiral." "Return then on board, and induce him, or compel him, to go with you on board the Genoa, and keep him there until I see him. He is the Admiral's Secretary. I must have a conference; and take with you any persons he may wish to accompany him." The Turk repaired on board the Genoa without any difficulty, accompanied by several persons whom he requested our officer to take with him. Sir Edward was closeted with him for a very long time, when he crdered the Lieutenant to put the Turkish Secretary and his companions on shore at daybreak, wherever they might choose to land. Rowing on shore, they saw the wreck of a mast, on which about a score of wounded or exhausted Turks were endeavouring to save themselves. "I must rescue those poor fellows," said the Lieutenant anxiously. "They are only common soldiers, and will soon die; never mind them," said the Turk, with the most grave composure. "It is my duty, and, if I did not help them, I should disgrace the service, and be reproved by the Admiral" saying which, the Lieutenant pulled towards the mast, and succeeded in saving about a dozen of these unhappy wretches. As soon as they were stowed in the bottom of the boat, the Turk, after a short, but apparently profound meditation, suddenly burst into an im moderate fit of laughter. "What is the matter?" cried the astonished Lieutenant; "Good heavens, what is there here to laugh at?" "Laugh!" exclaimed the Turk, with bitter sar

casm,

"laugh!-by Allah! you English are a singular people: yesterday you came into the Bay whilst we were quiet at our cofice; you knocked our ships to pieces, killed or mangled all our men till the fleet is one vast slaughterhouse, and this morning you pretend to be so humane, that you cannot pass a score of wounded soldiers without putting yourself out of the way to save them." The Lieutenant was astounded, and having no reply to offer to this odd view of the case, they proceeded to shore in profound silence.

THE TEA-TABLE.

'Tis there all meet,

The downright clown, and perfectly well bred.

Blair's Grave.

THOUGH all unknown to Greek and Roman song The paler Hyson, and the dark Souchong;

sharo

Of knightly Troubadour, or gay Trouvér,
Yet scorn not thou, as alien quite to numbers,
That friend to prattle, and that foe to slumbers,
Which Kien Long, imperial poet, praised
So high, that cent per cent its price was rais-
ed;

Which Pope himself would sometimes condescend

To place, commodious, at a couplet's end;
Which the sweet bard of Olney did not spurn,
Who sung the music of the "hissing urn:"
Let her, who bade me write, enact the Muse,
Inspire my genius, and my Tea infuse:

So shall my verse the hovering Sylphs delight,
And critic Gnomes relinquish half their spite.
Clear, warm, and flowing as my liquid theme,
As sweet as sugar, and as soft as cream.
May it awhile engage the gentle fair,
Then gambol gaily in the morning air,
Twined in the tendrils of her nut-brown hair!
Who has not read in chronicle or fable,
Of good King Arthur and his famous Table,
Where Kay and Tristrem talk'd by fits and

starts

Of love and murder, broken heads and hearts?
Like this the modern talk at time of tea,
Of the Round Table and its chivalry,
Who speak, with even voice and equal zest,
Of hearts ensnared, and heads absurdly drest.
'Tis true, a softer race the board environ,
Who corslets wear indeed, but not of iron;
Who play-but seldom combat by the card,
And drink-but drink not through the helmet
barr'd,

The fair alone with Chalybean proof,
Support their busts, their lovers keep aloof,
The Muse is female, and may dare reveal
What I have heard, and some, perhaps, may
feel.

King Arthur kept his court in Camelot,
But the Round Table graces every cot.
Palace and farm enjoy the gentle feast.
That blends the products of the West and East.
Where'er, on British ground, our footsteps

roam,

We find it still, and find it too at home.
Whether till eight the formal guests delay,
Or meet at seven in a friendly way:
Sooner or later, still the board is crown'd
The lacquer'd tray and argent spoons re-
sound-

The homely delft, or far-sought porcelain,
In circling ranks are marshall'd on the plain.
The polish'd chest with curious art inlaid,
Or quaintly wrought by some ingenious maid,
Displays the lawful spoils of venturous trade.
But not alike in every place and time,
The social banquet that provokes my rhyme;
Not social there, where law or logic lours,
At inns of court, or academic bowers:
In silence sip the solitary tribes
Of lank-jaw'd students, and of sallow scribes.
Pot after pot is drain'd, yet not a word
From lady's lip in those confines is heard:
Nought have the knell of "midnight's dreary

noon,"

And the dull jingle of the circling spoon.

Hie we from thence, nor shall we long delay About the homely meal of every day : For the dear comforts of domestic tea Are sung too well to stand in need of me, By Cowper and the bard of Rimini. Besides, I hold it for a special grace That such a theme is rather common-place. The joyous blazing of the new-stirr'd fire, The mother's summons to the dozing sire; The whispers audible, that oft intrude On the forced silence of the younger brood; The blooming daughter's ever-ready smile, So full of meaning, and so void of guile; With all the little mighty things that cheer The closing day from quiet year to year, I leave to those whom more benignant fate Or merit de..tinos to the wedded state. A etranger I, a wanderer upon earth, A thriftless prodigal of tears and mirth, Must learn, without a cherish'd hope, to see The loving looks that look not love to me;

To find my proper joy in others' bliss:
But ne'er be mine the selfish heart forlorn,
The tear of envy, or the laugh of scorn.

I grow too grave, and must in haste return To the frail China, and resplendent Urn.

Behold the table spread, the lady set; Matrons and spinsters, all are duly met; The younger belles disposed in scatter'd troops, In rows demure, or gaily whispering groups; The female elders chat the time away, (I often wonder what they find to say,) Or sort the pearly fish in painted pools, (Their light exchequers,) while their coffee

cools.

What various tones from female organs flow,
How briskly smooth, or languishingly slow;
The pretty creatures laugh, and weep, and rail,
In all gradations of the vocal scale,
From fell Xantippe's emphasis of brass
To the soft murmur of the melting lass;

A thing so fine, so exquisitely nice,
It has no gout for virtue, no-nor vice.
Its waspish waist, elaborately thin,
Its hearless leer, and apathetic grin-
That arching eyebrow of inane pretence,
That eye of unimpassion'd impudence-
Are these permitted at a lady's side?
Forbid it, Modesty, and Maiden pride.
Shall he your soft embosom'd thoughts engage
That joins the negatives of youth and age?
Boyish in brain, in heart as weak and cold
As a French Courtier fifty winters old.
Yet oft the feeling heart, the thinking brain,
Attempt to ape him, but attempt in vain:
For, let kind Nature do the best she can,
"Tis Woman still that makes or mars the Man.
And so it is the creature can beguile
The fairest faces of the readiest smile.
The next that comes the hyson to inhale,
If not a Man, at least we own a Male;
His worst offences are against your ears,

Like many billows of the voiceful ocean;
From note to note the keen remark descends,
In squalls begins, and in a whisper ends.
For loud and shrill the bulky bourgeoise
Accosts the beauty of departed days-
With accents tuned with unavailing skill,
The Vestal answers to the Matron shrill;
With temper'd melody of cautious speech
The Hostess doubts and yet accords with each:
Then round and round the breezy murmurs
glide,

sneers.

He knows the Coachman's craft, the Hunter's hollo,

The Fancy phrase, that might confound Apollo.

Right well he loves, in Row, or Lark, or Spree, To" sound the basestring of humility."

His rural friends are Nimrod's genuine seed, The best among them are his Dog and Steed. Ilis town acquaintance, form'd on midnight bulks,

Adorn the Nubbing Cheat, or man the Hulks. With iron grasp-with face and voice of Brass, He shouts loud greeting to each bonny lass.

rule,

Uneasy novice of an order strict,
That on her tongue has laid an interdict,
With her small hands the weighty secret spells,
And weaves her fingers into syllables.

Of things like these my infant mind took

note

Ere yet my limbs had felt the straight culotte :
Ill could I else by human wit divine
What Ladies do, when Gents are at their
wine.

At length the summons of the simpering Maid,
Or bold-faced footman, tardily obey'd,
Calls Lords, and Knights, and Squires, and
Priests, and Bards,

From White and Red to Coffee, Tea, and Cards. When the rude North comes roaring up the vale,

To silence sinks the lily-bending gale:
So sinks the converse of the soft-robed clan
At the hard step of heavy-tramping man.
Lost is the tale, adjourn'd the cutting jest,
The secret kept, the sly charade unguess'd.
With many a smother'd laugh, and many a
flush,

The buzzing watch-word passes-hush-hush

-hush

'Tis but the Parson-perhaps it is but I-
Then wherefore, Ladies, all this mystery?
The Parson, sure, cannot excite your fears,
And I, you know, have neither eyes nor ears-
Then let the tale, the jest, the laugh revive,
As if there were not such a quiz alive.
Oh! let me hear your sweetness; and I'm
stunn'd

With thine, Ricardo, and the Sinking Fund.
As when victorious troops to pillage bound,
In scatter'd bands obey the bugle's sound,
So, one by one, the jovial swains repair
To the soft standard of the muster'd fair.
First the prim Dangler, complaisant and sleek,
With frill that flutters, and with shoes that
creak,

Tells all the news to every aged she,
And points each slander with a low congee;
Pays for each morsel that the Lady gives
With parasitical superlatives:
Whate'er he tastes-'tis excellent-divine-
Above the Coffee-as below the Wine.
Next comes a thing, I know not how to name,
Of doubtful sex, which neither sex will claim;
So rank with Bergamot and Attargul,
That every nose will wind him for a fool-

Of Hunter's perils, or of Bruiser's glory.
Talks in an unknown tongue of Max and Mill-
ing,

And doubtless fancies he is mighty killing.
Now up the stairs, disputing all the way,
Two keen logicians urge their wordy fray:
Abrupt they enter, voluble and loud,
But soon remember that they have not bow'd;
That error mended, both at once relate
To some fair Maid the subject of debate:
To her kind judgment both at once refer-
For each expects a judginent kind from her.
But she, too meek, too witty, and too wise,
To judge between the vassals of her eyes,
To each Polemic seeming to incline-
Allots to each the happy chance--to shine.
Through four full cups their nice distinctions

Then to the maid he turns his solemn pace,
And gravely tells her he has judged the case.
But now the lingering votaries of port
Make to the fair-their long-delay'd resort.
What bulky forms around the table press!
D. D. and LL. D. and A. S. S.
The china rings-the urn is nigh o'erset,
By such a Bacchanalian Alphabet.
With glowing faces, and with watery eyes,
They pass about their pursy gallantries.
What beauties they in every dame behold-
Inspired adorers of the plain and old:
If men were still so happy and so blind,
Could men or women call their fate unkind?
They not remark the glance-the laugh sup-
prest-

In the pert virgin's newly-budded breast;
Nor see their wives' contracted brow severe,
Their daughter's blush, that moves the Dandy's

sneer;

Nay, scarce young Nimrod's merry roar can

hear.

Hark-like the rumble of a coming storm, Without we hear the dreadful word, ReformLast of the rout and dogg'd with public cares, The politician stumbles up the stairs;