were enclosed in a packet to general Washington, accompanied with a letter from major Andre, avowing himself to be the adjutant-general of the British army, and was forwarded by Jameson.” These extracts will be sufficient to show that the reader is not to expect to find in this volume a mere dry detail of military and political events, but a relation of interesting facts drawn up with much simplicity, and bearing every appearance of truth. The following is his account of major Andre's death: "At length the awful period arrived; and on the morning of the 2d of October, this unhappy victim of the errors of others, was led out to the place of execution. As he passed along, the American army were astonished at the dignity of his deportment, and the manly firmness and complacency of countenance, which spoke the serene composure of his mind; a glow of sympathy pervaded the breasts of the soldiers, and tears of sensibility were visible in every eye. He bowed himself, with a smile, to all he knew in his confinement. When he approached the fatal spot, and beheld the preparations, he stopped, and paused, as if absorbed in reflection; then quickly turning to the officer next him, he said—‘What! must I die in this manner?" Being told it was so ordered, he instantly said, 'I am reconciled, and submit to my fate, but deplore the mode; it will be but a momentary pang and with a calmness that, while it excited the admiration, melted the heart of every spectator, performed the last offices to himself. He then requested that all around him would bear witness to the world, THAT HE DIED LIKE A BRAVE MAN!' He perished universally esteemed and lamented; indeed a general sorrow at his fate pervaded all ranks of people through the continent of America." MR. OLDSCHOOL, FOR THE PORT FOLIO. THE INQUIRER. -No. I. I AM highly gratified that-Philadelphia can boast of one periodical publication conducted on a liberal plan, and free from religious controversy, and the muddy streams of party and factious discussions. I propose to avail myself occasionally of this vehicle, to call upon some of your correspondents for solutions of literary doubts and difficulties that occur in the course of my reading, and shall regard myself as under considerable obligation to such of them as will furnish satisfactory solutions. COLLIER ON RIDICULE. I have in my possession an extremely valuable work, called "Reflections on Ridicule, or what it is that makes a man ridiculous, with the best means to avoid it: wherein are represented the different manners and characters of the present age. By Jeremiah Collier, A. M. seventh edition, Dublin, anno 1764." Every time I peruse this book I discover new beauties. The sketches of characters are exquisitely drawn by a most masterly hand. The admonitions against incurring ridicule are the most just and profound: and the moral precepts are founded upon good sense, and a knowledge of the world. But there is hardly a page that does not bear the stamp of the French idiom, so fully that I cannot persuade myself it is other than a translation from the French. Yet it is announced in the title and preface, as an original work. Among other expressions of the above description, the word agreements," is used in fifty places for charms, or accomplishments, which surely must be a translation; as it is nowhere in any other English work applied in the same sense. There are, moreover, innumerable references to French manners, French customs, and French cha racters. I wish therefore to be informed whether this is ascertained to be a translation; and if so, from what work. - CASSADA TREE. The contradictory qualities of the Cassada Tree, as stated in Staunton's Embassy, are perhaps the most extraordinary of any in the whole range of Natural History. The root is said to be salutary food. Yet the juice expressed from the root is deadly poison. And, still more to heighten our wonder, and to show the sports of madam Nature, the sediment from the juice is said to be the tapioca. Can any of your correspondents state whether this account partakes of the traveller's privilege of rodomontading? Russel, in his history of Modern Europe, states, that among the principal English exports, during the domination of the Anglo Saxons, were slaves. I wish to know how long this traffic was carried on? And, in what mode were these slaves acquired? BRYDONE'S TOUR. A more agrecable book than Brydone's Tour cannot easily be found. I have, however, heard it confidently asserted by a literary character, that it is an absolute fabrication; and, like Damberger's Travels, made by a Grub-street garetteer, who had never visited either Sicily or Malta. Can this assertion be true? CAMPBELL'S INDIA. Campbell's India I have read with wonder. Some parts of it appear absolutely incredible. But there are certificates annexed to the book, that finally removed my doubts respecting its authenticity. I was nevertheless lately assured that it was the production of Mr. Carpenter, who published a paper in Charleston, and in New-York. On this point, I request information. FOR THE PORT FOLIO. ON THE STUDY OF NATURAL HISTORY-No. I. THOUGH Natural History, strictly speaking, comprehends the whole animal, vegetable and mineral kingdoms, or is, in other words, a History of Nature; yet, it is, seldom, so generally applied, and is frequently confined to Botany and Zoology; sometimes to the latter alone. It is, of all human knowledge, the most sublime, because it exhibits the power, and introduces us, as it were, into the presence, of OMNIPOTENCE. It is the most instructive, because it unfolds his goodness, wisdom, and perfections. It is also the most delightful, from its inexpressible beauty, vastness, and variety. The first lessons of infancy should be learned from the pages of this magnificent volume, as the plainest, the most easily comprehended, striking, and impressive; perpetually inspiring the highest conceptions of the Creator; and animating us with the purest spirit of devotion. Our amazement increases on every fresh survey, and we exclaim in the rapturous language of the poet: "These are thy glorious Works, Parent of Good! "Thus wond'rous fair, thyself how wond'rous then! If then the objects of creation, which surround us, are capable of producing such effects, when beheld even in a general way, how must every sensation of wonder, awe, and devotion be increased, when we contemplate them more closely, and individually; when we consider their conformation, instincts, peculiarities, uses; their secret connexion, and reciprocity of dependence on each other; as forming one immense chain of created beings, emanating from, and upheld by one Great, Incomprehensible, Self-existent, Eternal! We there discover such unity of design, such beneficence, grandeur, order, and harmony, as cannot fail, not only of forming our minds to virtue, but of instilling into them the principles, and laying the foundation of true taste, in every art that is great, excellent, or praiseworthy. For these reasons, there are no literary productions of the present day, whose appearance I so cordially welcome as well-written books on Natural History; but, sorry I am to say, that my congratulations on this head, particularly as respects the objects of our own country, are so rarely excited, as almost to induce the melancholy belief that this divine study is in danger of being entirely abandoned, and superseded by the rage for incongruous and idle Novels; the insatiable greediness of gain, and the noisy discord of distracting politics. Three hundred years have passed away since the first settlement of this country; and twenty millions of its inhabitants have descended to the tomb, without leaving, in this department of Science, one eminently distinguished vestige behind them. Yet every thing around invites to the pursuit; but invites in vain. Numbers of the finny race, that tenant our lakes, seas, and rivers, and many of the feathered tribes that warble in our woods, are totally unknown to us; and though the periodical appearance and departure of others, be as regular and uniform, as the Seasons, yet they never excite in us a single inquiry. They come, we know not whence; exist, we know not how; and go, we know not whither. The air swarms with insects, with which we are totally unacquainted; though the safety of our crops, and the protection of our people, from famine, have, at times, nearly depended on a knowledge of the subject. Multitudes of plants vegetate in our extensive regions, whose very forms have never met our eye; though many of them might probably be highly important as food or medicine to man; even the earth, on which we tread, encloses treasures that we will not be at the trouble or expense of searching for, till they force themselves on our view; contenting ourselves with the same superficial scratching of the surface, with those who went before us; and sending, at a vast accumulation of risk, expense and national dependence, to a distant country for those very supplies, which nature has bountifully scattered at our feet. These assertions, my countrymen, are not merely declamatory; neither are they meant to give offence; but to rouse in your bosoms a love and ambition to excel in these most useful and virtuous studies. Every enlightened nation of Europe has become, as it ought to be, the proper historian of its own natural productions; while we have sat down satisfied, ingloriously satisfied, to receive from France, Britain, or Germany, an account of the productions of out own streams, our own fields and forests; and to swallow as facts the crude suggestions of foreign pride, ignorance, and prejudice. As I propose, in my succeeding numbers, to make application for information to those readers of The Port Folio, who may be disposed to give it, on some subjects of the Natural History of the United States, so I mean not to impose on others, what I would be unwilling to engage in myself. I will, therefore, add example to precept, and shall, from time to time, communicate through the same medium, such interesting particulars of some of our American animals, insects, birds, fishes, plants, minerals, &c., as are either new or not generally known; and which, in numerous extensive tours through the territories of the United States, I have been enabled to collect. W. OF CRITICISM- -FOR THE PORT FOLIO. MR. OLDSCHOOL, THE Sun of Genius seldom breaks forth with resplendent lustre in the high heaven of invention, but some untimely cloud of carping calumny, or critical clamor, rises to darken its disk, and intercept its glories from the eyes of an admiring world. About the middle of the last century the reputation of Pope, which had until then, shone forth with the dazzling ray of originality, suffered dim eclipse, from the malignant curiosity or the eagle-eyed acuteness of the variously erudite Joe Warton. The famed Milton, shortly after, was for a moment overshadowed by the murky wing of literary envy, raised by the arts and the impudence of the base-born Lauder. And even the giant Warburton has in our own day, been accused of having erected the colossal trophies of literary triumph upon the pilfered fragments of the labours of Vandale and Meuisius. The great weapon which the pigmies of Literature ever wield against the indestructible monuments of the fathers of Science, and of song, is the charge of plagiarism. But the legitimate critic is not now to learn that Genius ennobles whatever it touches; and that Virgil, when he raked in the dunghill of Eriarius, had the prescriptive right of discovery to the possession and the use of any gem, which chance might have deposited, or culture created in that humble soil. |