ry over the bravest hosts; and who never suffered defeat, though sometimes baffled by treachery and overpowered by numbers." The Knight forgets the battle of Marengo where the victory was "insured" by Dessaix, who was rewarded by assassination. Lodi, and Acre, and Aspern, the plains of Russia and the immortal field of Waterloo, must all be forgotten, before the knight can be credited. At St. Helena, le Grand Empereur had "an opportunity of perfecting his character by his resignation in adversity, and by exhibiting the passive virtues just as in former days he had displayed his heroic ones:" i. e. the butcheries at Toulon, the wholesale massacres iu Italy, the poisonings in Egpyt, the murders of Palm, Wright, Hoffer, Pichegru and the Duc D' Enghien. Judge Hopkinson's humorous description of the practice of white-washing in Philadelphia, has been recently published, for the ninety-ninth time, in an English Journal, as an original communication. This last appearance is in the Gentleman's Magazine, for May, 1821. It is reported that Sir Walter Scott is writing a life of Pope. General Pepe, it is said, is preparing for the press "Historical Memoirs on the late Revolution in Naples." In the Richmond Enquirer, a proposition has been made that Congress should procure a translation of the Bible, in which the anti-republican appellations of Emperor, King, Prince, &c. should be omitted and others substit ted. As the Editor of this journal professes great zeal for the Constitution of the United States, he might be asked to indicate the section in which Congress is vested with so ridiculous a power. In his rage for reformation he should not forget the aristocratical names of counties in his own state, where we find King George, Prince George, King William, &c. His squeamishness reminds us of a laughable instance of egotism, which lately occurred in that prostituted vehicle of malignity and misrepresentation, called Niles' Register. This Editor is perpetually boring his readers about himself, his face, his sugar and tea, his "chair of freedom," &c. but in December last, he thought proper to introduce his children and to inform his readers that he had torn a leaf out of their book, because it contained the following abominable treason: « G. R. means George the king," and he found in it, also "Bart” « K. G.” « K. B." "K. P." " and twenty other English things." We are moreover told that if the aforesaid children "ever use the term George the king," in the hearing of this important personage, he will "feel disposed to correct them for it." We presume it is in consequence of this inveterate hostility to the sovereign in question, that Mr. Niles makes such dreadful havoc with the "King's English" in those incomprehensible and interminable lucubrations, with which-" sleepless himself to make his readers sleep," he strives to enlighten the gaping multitude. Some time ago the Editor of the Port Folio sent to a literary friend in London a few copies of the "Memoirs of a life chiefly passed in Pennsylvania within the last sixty years;" by the late Alexander Graydon. We have repeatedly, but in vain called the attention of our readers to this work, which presents views of manners in Pennsylvania and sketches of persons distinguished in American history, of the most interesting nature. As it is about to be republished in London and Edinburgh, it will thus obtain a stamp which, according to the usual course of things, will make it popular among the countrymen of the neglected author. The life of General Marion, is now in the press and will be printed with all possible despatch. The first part of it, is an abridgement of the History of the Revolutionary War in South Carolina, from its commencement until June 1780, in which several former accounts have been corrected upon indubitable authority. In June 1780, the History of Marion's Brigade commences, and is continued with a short view of the general history of that period, connected with it until December 1782. This part of the work contains much detail and develops the character of an extraordinary leader at the head of a few determined men, surrounded on all sides by foes and by difficulties, but still opposing them with valour and stratagem, and finally by the utmost fortitude coming off victorious. But little of this detail has been made known to the public by any former account. The Editor of the New Monthly Magazine has made a frank and gentlemanly apology for the manner in which the American character was treated in one of his early numbers. We owe this, no doubt, to what Mr. Campbell describes as "the fair and temperate reply" of Mr. Everett. The following language will be read with warm emotions by every American. "If any ill-natured remarks should be made on this apology which the Editor has offered the people of the United States, he can promise his critics one advantage, that he will (in all probability) make no reply to them. But the sober part of the British community will scarcely require an excuse for his having spoken thus respectfully of the Americans. It was a duty peculiarly imposed on him by the candid manner of Mr. Everett's reply; and it was otherwise, as he felt in his heart deservedly claimed by a people eulogized by Burke and Chatham-by a land that brings such recollections as the wisdom of Washington and Franklin, and the heroism of Warren and Montgomery." How much more honourable is this than the vulgar and easy occupation of raking up slanders, from the Billingsgate pages of unprincipled libellers which cherish national antipathies and banish all sociable feeling! "The evil," says Mr. Campbell," of nationally hostile writers lives long after their short reputations-it is felt by posterity, when their works are gone to the grocer's shop." ART. XI.-Poetry. To the memory of JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN SAMPSON, Esq. I. No common mind illum'd thy cold remains; Thy buoyant spirit and pure soul would stem The tide of fate, with Hope portray'd so well, That she would linger still where Freedom dar'd not dwell! II. Too early for thy country and thy name, Too early for the hearts you leave behind, Was thy hard doom. You lov'd them all, and Fame Now all but that is scatter'd to the wind: It was immortal, and gave bright presage, III. Or hadst thou fall'n as Fancy now beholds, The green flag floating o'er thy bleeding breast, Thy glaring eye fix'd on its waving folds, And shouts of triumph hymning thee to rest With Friendship's victor hand in thine close prest! This lyre's proud notes to heaven thy praise had thrown, Rejoicing; that you gave at Fame's behest, The bauble breath-for breath, which she alone IV. But that's a dream-thy growing hopes, thy years, It has been honor'd-and will be, by tears In worldly sorrow, for the young, the brave. When death has burst the links-love could not save. Such hallow'd grief is hid from mortal eyes! Heal'd be the mourner's hearts; and hush'd my own vain sighs. |