nable, and justly so, against any force which could be brought against them unassisted by artillery. On viewing the strength of this place, I could not help felicitating myself on the lucky circumstance which had induced me to attack them by land, for I believe we should have failed in an attempt on this place by water. I had determined, on first starting, not to return until I had destroyed this fort, and now intended putting my design in execution. To have thrown it down by removing the stones singly would have required more time than we had to spare, and concluding that by our united efforts we should be enabled to demolish the whole at once, I directed the Indians and my own men to put their shoulders to the wall, and endeavoured by efforts made at the same instant to throw it down, but it was built with so much solidity that no impression could be made on it; we therefore left it as a monument to future generations of their skill and industry. This fortification appeared of ancient date, and time alone can ever destroy it. We succeeded in making a small breach in the wall, through which we passed on our route to the beach, a route which was familiar to us, but had now become doubly intricate from the nuinber of trees which had since been cut down and placed across the pathway, as much to impede our advance as to embarrass us in our retreat; we found the same had been practised on the bank of the river.

On my arrival at the beach, I met Tavee and many of his tribe, together with the chiefs of the Happahs. Tavee was the bearer of a white flag, and several of the same emblems of peace were flying on the different hills round the valley. He was very desirous of knowing whether I intended going to their valley, and wished to be informed when he should again bring presents, and what articles he should bring; he inquired if I would still be his friend, and reminded me that I was Tomio Tipee, the chief of the valley of Shaumee, and that his name was Tavee; I requested him to return and allay the fears of the women, who he informed me were in the utmost terror, apprehensive of an attack from me. The chiefs of the Happahs invited me to return to their valley, assuring me that an abundance of every thing was already provided for us, and the girls, who had assembled in great numbers, dressed out in their best attire, welcomed our return with smiles,

and notwithstanding our wet and dirty situation, (for it had been raining the greatest part of the day,) convinced us by their looks and gestures, that they were disposed to give us the most friendly reception.

Gattaneuah met me on the side of the hill, as I was ascending; the old man's heart was full, he could not speak, he placed both my hands on his head, rested his forehead on my knees, and after a short pause, raising himself, placed his hands on my breast, exclaimed, Gattaneuah! and then on his own, said, Apotee, to remind me we had exchanged names.

When I had reached the summit of the mountain, I stopped to contemplate that valley which in the morning we had viewed in all its beauty, the scene of abundance and happiness. A long line of smoking ruins now marked our traces from one end to the other; the opposite hills were covered with the unhappy fugitives, and the whole presented a scene of devastation and horror. Unhappy and heroic people! the victims of your own courage and mistaken pride, while the instruments of your fate shed the tears of pity over your misfortunes, thousands of your countrymen, (nay, brethren, of the same family,) triumph in your distresses! I shall not fatigue myself or reader by a longer account of this expedition. We spent the night with the Happahs, who supplied us most abundantly, and next morning at daylight started for Madisonville, where we arrived about eight o'clock, after an absence of three nights and two days, during which time we marched upwards of sixty miles by paths which had never before been trodden but by the natives; several of my stoutest men were for a long time laid up by sickness occasioned by their excessive fatigue, and one (Corporal Mahon, of the marines,) died two days after his return.

SPIRIT OF MAGAZINES.

A Day by the Fire,—poetically and practically considered.

[From the Reflector.]

I AM one of those that delight in a fireside, and can enjoy it without even the help of a cat or a tea-kettle. To cats, indeed, I have an aversion, as animals that only affect a sociality without caring a jot for any thing but their own luxury; and my tea kettle, I frankly confess, has long been displaced, or rather dismissed, by a bronze-coloured and graceful urn; though, between ourselves, I am not sure that I have gained any thing by the exchange. Cowper, it is true, talks of the "bubbling and loudhissing urn," which

"Throws up a steamy column;"

but there was something so primitive and unaffected, so` warmhearted and unpresuming, in the tea-kettle-its song was so much more cheerful and continued, and it kept the water so hot and comfortable as long as you wanted it, that I sometimes feel as if I had sent off a good, plain, faithful old friend, who had but one wish to serve me, for a superficial, smooth-faced upstart of a fellow, who, after a little promising and vapouring, grows cold and contemptuous, and thinks himself bound to do nothing but stand on a rug and have his person admired by the circle. To this admiration, in fact, I have been obliged to resort, in order to make myself think well of my bargain, if possible; and accordingly, I say to myself every now and then during the tea,-" A pretty look with it-that urn;" or "It's wonderful what a taste the Greeks had;" or "The eye might have a great many enjoyments, if people would but look after forms and shapes." In the meanwhile, the urn leaves off its "bubbling and hissing,"-but then there is such an air with it! My tea is made of cold water-but then the Greeks were such a nation!

If there is any one thing that can reconcile me to the loss of my kettle more than another, it is that my fire is left quite to itself; it has full room to breathe and to blaze, and I can poke it as I please. What recollection does that idea excite!-Poke it as I please!-Think, benevolent Reader-think of the pride and plea VOL. IV. New Series.

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sure of having in your hand that awful but at the same time artless weapon, a poker-of putting it into the proper bar-gently levering up the coals-and seeing the instant and bustling flame above! To what can I compare that moment? That sudden, empyreal enthusiasm? That fiery expression of vivification? That ardent acknowledgement, as it were, of the care and kindliness of the operator?-Let me consider a moment:-it is very odd-I was always reckoned a lively hand at a simile-but language and combination absolutely fail me here. If it is like any thing, it must be something beyond every thing in beauty and life. OhI have it now-think, Reader-if you are one of those who can muster up sufficient sprightliness to engage in a game of forfeitson Twelfth night, for instance-think of a blooming girl, who is condemned to "open her mouth and shut her eyes, and see what heaven," in the shape of a mischievous young fellow, "will send her." Her mouth is opened accordingly, the fire of her eyes is dead, her face assumes a doleful air, up walks the aforesaid heaven or mischievous young fellow, (young Ouranos-Hesiod would have called him,) and instead of a piece of paper, a thimble, or a cinder, claps into her mouth a peg of orange or a long slice of citron-then her eyes above instantly light up again the smiles wreathe about the sparklings burst forth and all is warmth, brilliancy, and delight. I am aware that this simile is not perfect; but if it would do for an epic poem, as I think it might after Virgil's whippingtops, and Homer's Jackasses and black-puddings, the reader perhaps will not quarrel with it.

But to describe my feelings in an orderly manner, I must request the reader to go with me through a day's enjoyments by the fireside. It is part of my business, as a Reflector, to look about for helps to reflection; and for this reason, among many others, I indulge myself in keeping a good fire from morning till night. I have also a reflective turn for an easy chair, and a very thinking attachment to comfort in general. But of this as I proceed. Imprimis, then-the morning is clear and cold-time half past seven-scene a breakfast-room. Some persons, by the by, prefer a thick and rainy morning, with a sobbing wind, and the clatter of pattens along the streets; but I confess, for my own part, that being a sedentary person, and too apt to sin against the duties of exercise, I have somewhat too sensitive a consciousness of bad weather, and feel a heavy sky go over me like a featherbed, or rather like a huge brush, which rubs all my nap the wrong way. I am growing better in this respect, and by the help of a stout walk at noon, and getting, as it were, fairly into a favourite poet and a warm fire of an evening, begin to manage a cloud or an East wind tolerably well-but still, for perfection's sake on the present occasion, I must insist upon my clear morning, and

will add to it, if the reader pleases, a little hoar-frost upon the windows, a bird or two coming after the crumbs, and the light smoke from the neighbouring chimnies brightening up into the early sunshine. Even the dustman's bell is not unpleasant from its association; and there is something absolutely musical in the clash of the milk pails suddenly unyoked, and the ineffable, ad libitum note that follows. The waking epicure rises with an elastic anticipation; enjoys the freshening cold-water which endears what is to come; and even goes placidly through the villanous scraping process which we soften down into the level and lawny appellation of shaving. He then hurries down stairs, rubbing his hands, and sawing the sharp air through his teeth; and as he enters the breakfast-room, sees his old companion glowing through the bars-the life of the apartment--and wanting only his friendly hand to be lightened a little, and enabled to shoot up into dancing brilliancy. (I find I am getting into a quantity of epithets here; and must rein in my enthusiasm.)What need I say? The poker is applied, and would be so whether required or not, for it is impossible to resist the sudden ardour inspired by that sight:-the use of the poker, on first seeing one's fire, is as natural as shaking hands with a friend. At that movement, a hundred little sparkles fly up from the coaldust that falls within, while from the masses themselves a roaring flame mounts aloft with a deep and fitful sound as of a shaken carpet: epithets again-I must recur to poetry at once :

Then shine the bars, the cakes in smoke aspire,

A sudden glory bursts from all the fire.

The conscious wight, rejoicing in the heat,

Rubs the blithe knees, and toasts th' alternate feet.*

The utility as well as beauty of the fire during breakfast need not be pointed out to the most unphlogistic observer. A person would rather be shivering at any time of the day than at that of his first rising the transition would be too unnatural:-he is not prepared for it-as Barnardine says, when he objects to being hung. If you eat plain bread and butter with your tea, it is fit that your moderation should be rewarded with a good blaze; and if you indulge in hot rolls or toast, you will hardly keep them to their you take warmth without it, particularly if you read; and then-if in a newspaper-what a delightful change from the wet, raw, dabbing fold of paper, when you first touch it, to the dry, crackling, crisp superficies which, with a skilful spat of the finger-nails at its

Parody upon part of the well-known description of night with which Pope has swelled out the passage in Homer, and the faults of which have long been appreciated by general readers.