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Roman half so well displayed, as in the "Middle Ages." The same burning yet well tempered love of liberty; the same hatred of tyranny and injustice; the same vein of sage remark, developing in a single sen

being apprehended that if left on shore until the ex- I have we seen the best characteristics of the illustrious pedition was ready, many of them might desert. Thus it happened that John Champe, instead of crossing the Hudson that night, was safely deposited on board one of the fleet of transports, from whence he never departed until the troops under Arnold landed in Vir-tence, momentous political truth; the same power of ginia! Nor was he able to escape from the British army until after the junction of Lord Cornwallis at Petersburg, when he deserted; and proceeding high up into Virginia, he passed into North Carolina near the Saura towns, and keeping in the friendly districts of that state, safely joined the army soon after it had passed the Congaree in pursuit of Lord Rawdon.

"His appearance excited extreme surprise among his former comrades, which was not a little increased when they saw the cordial reception he met with from Lieutenant Colonel Lee. His whole story soon became known to the corps, which reproduced the love and respect of officer and soldier, heightened by universal admiration of his daring and arduous attempt.

"Champe was introduced to General Greene, who cheerfully complied with the promises made by the Commander-in-chief, as far as in his power; and having provided the sergeant with a good horse, and money for his journey, sent him to General Washington, who munificently anticipated every desire of the sergeant, and presented him with a discharge from further service, lest he might in the vicissitudes of war, fall into the enemy's hands; when, if recognized, he was sure to die on a gibbet.

"When General Washington was called by President Adams to the command of the army, prepared to defend the country from French hostility, he sent to Lieutenant Colonel Lee to inquire for Champe: being determined to bring him into the field at the head of a company of infantry.

"Lee sent to Loudoun county, where Champe settled after his discharge from the army; and learned that the gallant soldier had removed to Kentucky, and had soon after died."

HALLAM'S MIDDLE AGES.*

sarcasm, conveyed usually in the very words which carry forward the narrative; the same condensed and forcible brevity of recital. Oftener than in Tacitus, or in Hume, there occur in Hallam passages of eminent rhetorical beauty; much resembling those occasional observations, at once elegant and profound, in which Burke abounds. But they are neither frequent nor long enough, to violate the becoming chastity of historical composition. Far from being excrescent ornaments, which lead off the reader's mind from the facts detailed, or suggest a doubt concerning the truth of a story so embellished, they enliven and rivet his attention, by illustrating the subject; and interrupt not, for a moment, the course of the narration. The work takes a wide range. It gives the History of France-ItalySpain-Germany-the Greek Empire and the Saracens-Ecclesiastical Power-the Feudal System-the English Constitution--and the State of Society in Europe--during the Middle Ages; that is, for about eight or nine centuries. The manner in which it groups and details the multitude of facts comprised in this great outline, is lucid and happy. With equal judgment are the instructive or important selected, and the trivial or useless passed in silence.

But it is above all as the enlightened friend of liberty, that Mr. Hallam deserves the esteem of American readers. Some extracts we propose making, will evince this, and also the Tacitus-like pith and pungency we have ascribed to him. The italics and small capitals

are ours.

EXTRACTS.

'A generous disdain of one man's will, is to republican governments what chastity is to women; a conservative principle, never to be reasoned upon, or subjected to calculations of utility.'

Rienzi's 'character was not unusual among literary politicians; a combination of knowledge, eloquence, and enthusiasm for ideal excellence, with vanity, inexperience of mankind, unsteadiness, and physical timidity.'

'The most deadly hatred, is that which men exasperated by proscription and forfeiture bear to their country.'

It is surprising, that this work is not more admired, and more read, than it seems to be. It is surpassed, nay, equalled by no historical production in the English language, since the times of the great British three, On the triumphant return of Cosmo de' Medici, in of the last century. Indeed, several merits tempt us 1434, from the exile into which the opposite faction of strongly, to place it above even their works. It is more Albizi had driven him, Hallam remarks,-'It is in vain candid than Hume; more simply and pointedly sento expect that a victorious faction will scruple to retentious than Robertson; more clear, and infinitely less taliate upon its enemies a still greater measure of inpompous, than Gibbon. Nothing can be more striking, justice than it experienced at their hands. The vanthan the contrast between Hallam's distinct, straight-quished have no rights in the eye of their conquerors. forward statements, and shrewd, concise, often pun- The sword of returning exiles, flushed by victory and gent remarks, and Gibbon's elaborately swollen and incensed by suffering, falls successively upon their enebalanced periods, that after thrice reading, leave it still mies, upon those whom they suspect of being their doubtful what fact he tells, or what opinion he ex-enemies, and upon those who may hereafter become presses. If it had not become vulgar to compare his- such.' torians to Tacitus (Dr. Ramsay has been called "The Tacitus of America"), we should say, that no where

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(Policy of employing Foreign Mercenaries.) Considered with reference to economy, almost any taxes must be a cheap commutation for personal service. But economy may be regarded too exclusively; and can

never counterbalance that degradation of national | says Hallam, ‘as we find in the history of all usurping character, which proceeds from intrusting the public governments, time changes anomaly into system, and indefence to foreigners.'

'Historians have in general more indulgence for splendid crimes, than for the weaknesses of virtue.' 'None of Charlemagne's wars can be compared with the Saracenic history of Charles Martel: but this was a contest for freedom; those for conquest; and fame is more partial to successful aggression than to patriotic resistance.'

|jury into right: examples beget custom, and custom ripens into law; and the doubtful precedent of one generation becomes the fundamental maxim of another.' So far had this natural progress taken place, that in England, under Henry III., the 'Church seems to have been so richly endowed only as the free pasture of Italian priests; who were placed, by the mandatory letters of Gregory IX. and Innocent IV., in all the best benefices.' Utility of Party Names. About A. D. 1200, the two leading parties which had divided the cities of Lom

In the unswerving probity, strictness of conscience, and benevolence, of Louis IX. (St. Louis), he found all the effects of far-sighted policy. But it is the privi-bardy, and whose mutual animosity, having no general lege only of virtuous minds, to perceive what wisdom dwells in moderate counsels. No sagacity ever taught a selfish and ambitious sovereign to forego the sweetness of immediate power.'

Hint to Historical Students. Intestine tumults, &c. ' are among the eternal lessons of History: for the unjust encroachments of courts, the intemperate passions of the multitude, the ambition of demagogues, the cruelty of victorious factions, will never cease to have their parallels and their analogies; while the military achievements of distant times afford, in general, no instruction; and can hardly occupy too little of our time in historical studies.' Note.

subject of contention, required the association of a name to direct as well as invigorate its prejudices, became distinguished by the celebrated appellations of GUELFS and Ghibelins.' ***Terms of this description✶✶✶ are always acceptable to mankind; and have the peculiar advantage of precluding altogether that spirit of compromise and accommodation, by which it is sometimes endeavored to obstruct their tendency to hate and injure each other.'

'There is in general room enough for skepticism as to the characters of men, who are only known to us through their enemies. History is full of calumnies that can never be effaced. But I really see no ground for thinking charitably of Peter the Cruel.' Note.

'The Arabian monarchs of Cordova found in their success and imagined security, a pretext for indolence: while, according to the nature of despotism, the fruits of wisdom or bravery in one generation were lost in the follies and effeminacy of the next.'

Hint to Statesmen. It is difficult to name a limit beyond which taxes will not be borne without impatience, when they appear to be called for by necessity, and faithfully applied: nor is it impracticable for a skilful minister to deceive the people in both these respects. But the sting of taxation is wastefulness. What high spirited man could see without indignation the earnings 'Alvaro de Luna, the favorite of John II. [king of of his labor, yielded ungrudgingly to the public de- Castile], retained for 35 years an absolute control over fence, become the spoil of peculators and parasites? his feeble master. The adverse faction naturally asIt is this, that mortifies the liberal hand of public spirit;cribed to this powerful minister every criminal intenand those statesmen, who deem the security of govern- tion and all public mischiefs. He was certainly not ment to depend not on laws and armies, but on the more scrupulous than the generality of statesmen; and moral sympathies and prejudices of the people, will appears to have been rapacious in accumulating wealth. vigilantly guard against even the suspicion of prodi-But there was energy and courage about Alvaro de gality.' Luna, which distinguished him from the cowardly sycophants who usually rise by the favor of weak princes: and Castile probably would not have been happier, under the administration of his enemies.'

"The very virtues which a state of hostility excites, are not proof against its long continuance; and sink at last into brutal fierceness.'

into contempt.'

A vindication of Republics. 'In a superficial review John II. did not long survive his minister; dying of history, we are sometimes apt to exaggerate the in 1454, after a reign that may be considered as inglovices of free states, and to lose sight of those inherent rious, compared with any except that of his successor. in tyrannical power. The bold censoriousness of Re-If the father was not respected, the son fell completely publican historians, and the cautious servility of writers under a despotism, conspire to mislead us as to the relative prosperity of nations. Acts of courage and tumultuous excesses in a free state, are blazoned in minute detail, and descend to posterity: the deeds of tyranny are studiously and perpetually suppressed. Even those historians who have no particular motives for concealment, turn away from the monotonous and disgusting crimes of tyrants.'

Of JOHN HUNNIADES, the Hungarian patriot, who 'frequently defeated, but unconquered in defeat, stood in the breach for twelve years against the Turkish power,' and to whom the regency was confided during the king's minority,-Hallam says, 'He surrendered to young Ladislaus a trust that he had exercised with perfect fidelity: but his merit was too great to be forgiven; and the court never treated him with cordiality. [Does not this irony rival that of Tacitus, where he says, the father of Agricola was 'studio eloquentiæ sapientiæque notus, iisque virtutibus iram Caii Cæsaris [Caligulæ] meritus?']

The way dangerous Precedents arise. [The Pope at first claimed no right to appoint to church benefices. Adrian IV. began, by requesting some bishops to confer the first vacancy on a particular clerk. Recommendations like this (called Mandats) became more and more We have marked many more specimens, of equal frequent, and were usually followed, through respect truth, pointedness, and force: but to extract them all, for the holy See: even Innocent III. the most ambitious would extend unduly what was designed to be a very of pontiffs, regarded it only as a courtesy.] But,'|short article. From scarcely any other historian, nor

(except Burke) from any other writer of any other | the beauteous heroine of the tragedy, whom the Emclass, could a larger number of sentences be culled, harmonious in structure, graceful and impressive in phraseology, and rich in sound political philosophy.

REMORSE.

LINES WRITTEN BY MARIAN HORTON,

peror woos to be his sultana; and Aspasia, another noble Grecian lady, beloved by Demetrius. The plot fails; but all the conspirators for whom any reader feels solicitude, escape into Asia; while some of the subordinates, who meditated a double treachery by betraying their comrades, fall victims to Mahomet's wrath. Aspasia escapes with Demetrius. Irene, yielding to the sultan's courtship, is scarcely invested with her imperial state, before, on a false accusation of being

And set to music by C. E. Horn, as an answer to Beethoven's engaged in a conspiracy, she is strangled by his order:

celebrated " Adelaida."

In grief we met-in tears we part;

Our dream of happiness is o'er ;

And wild despair throbs through my heart,
To know that we must meet no more!

No more? Yes, we may meet perchance,
But oh! how changed the scene will be;
Eyes that once fondly met my glance,
Will dart suspicion's glare on me :

The heart that throbb'd at my approach,
With torpid coldness shrinks away:
And every look conveys reproach,
Which speaks affection's fast decay.

Thou canst no more recall the hour,
When sweet confiding hope was thine;
Full soon the charm hath lost its power
Which seem'd to link thy fate with mine.

Yet not unmov'd I mark that cheek
With melancholy gloom o'ercast;
And tears I shed, could they but speak,
Would plead a pardon for the past.

A tear is all I have to give-
Thou wilt not then despise the gift;
Nor let in thy remembrance live

The wrongs that have our hopes bereft.

But why again recall the madd'ning hour?
Why on the mem'ry of our love thus dwell?
Teach me, oh Heav'n, (while yet I have the pow'r,)
'To breathe a first, a last, a fond farewell!

DR. JOHNSON'S IRENE.

The merits of this tragedy are not generally enough known. For the interest of its story, and still more for the frequent beauty and grandeur of its language, it falls not much below Cato. Take a few of its passages, as examples. But first, to make them better understood, see the plot, or argument of the play.

Mahomet, Emperor of the Turks, had recently conquered Greece, after a severe struggle, in which DEMETRIUS and LEONTIUS, two Greek nobles, had fought with distinguished valor for their country. Prisoners now, in Constantinople, though not closely confinedthey conspire with Cali, the chief vizier, to overthrow Mahomet; in the hope of thus redeeming Greece. Prisoners also, though still less restrained, are Irene,

Now for the extracts.

(Criteria of true Greatness.)

Cali. [Speaking of Leontius, and inquiring into his fitness for
the enterprise they were planning.]

'His mien is lofty, his demeanor great;
Nor sprightly folly wantons in his air,
Nor dull serenity becalms his eyes.
Such had I trusted once, as soon as seen;
But cautious age suspects the flattering form,
And only credits what experience tells.
Has silence pressed her seal upon his lips?
Does adamantine faith invest his heart?
Will he not bend beneath a tyrant's frown?
Will he not melt before ambition's fire?
Will he not soften in a friend's embrace,
Or flow dissolving in a woman's tears?
Demetrius. Sooner the trembling leaves shall find a
voice,

And tell the secrets of their conscious walks ;
Sooner the breeze shall catch the flying sounds,
And shock the tyrant with a tale of treason.
Your slaughtered multitudes that swell the shore
With monuments of death, attest his courage:
Virtue and liberty engross his soul,

And leave no place for cowardice or fear.'
(Procrastination.)

'To-morrow!
That fatal mistress of the young, the lazy,
The coward and the fool, condemned to lose
A useless life in waiting for to-morrow;
To gaze with longing eyes upon to-morrow,
Till interposing death destroys the prospect.'

(Influence of Beauty.)

'See, Irene comes:
At her approach, each ruder gust of thought
Sinks, like the sighing of a tempest spent:
And gales of softer passion fan my bosom.'

(Ecstasy.)

"The present, past, and future, swim before me, Lost in a wild perplexity of joy.'

(The true value of Life.)

'Life and death

Are only varied modes of untried being.
Reflect that life, like every other blessing,
Derives its value from its USE alone.'

(A struggle of Passion with Conscience.)
'In this dubious twilight of conviction,
The gleams of reason and the clouds of passion,
Irradiate and obscure my breast by turns.'

(Ambition defended.)

'Irene. Ambition is the stamp impressed by Heaven
To mark the noblest minds: with active heat
Informed, they mount the precipice of power,
Grasp at command, and tower in quest of empire;
While vulgar souls compassionate their cares,
Gaze at their height, and tremble at their danger.
Thus meaner spirits with amazement mark
The varying seasons and revolving skies,
And ask what guilty power's rebellious hand
Rolls with eternal toil the ponderous orbs:
While some archangel, nearer to perfection,
VOL. VI-15

In easy state presides o'er all their motions, Directs the planets with a careless nod, Conducts the sun, and regulates the spheres.' (Effect of virtuous Love.)

"Tis love, combined with guilt alone, that melts The softened soul to cowardice and sloth: But virtuous passion prompts the great resolve, And fans the slumbering spark of heavenly fire.' (To one about to be executed.)

'The fraudful moments ply their silent wings, And steal thy life away. Death's horrid angel Already shakes his bloody sabre o'er thee.'

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In travelling, last summer, through the southern country, I passed the well known section of land lying between the Pedee rivers, which Gen. Marion assigned as a temporary truce ground, during the revolutionary war. The friends of loyalty possessed unbounded influence between these rivers, and kept the whig inhabitants actively employed in checking their depredations. This induced Marion to enter into a temporary truce, by which it was stipulated, that neither party should be guilty of any aggression for the time limited. Having settled the articles of agreement, he hastened to assist the operations of Greene; but no sooner was he at a distance, than the insurgents broke the treaty, and petitions were presented to Marion, that he would march his brigade into the neighborhood, and reduce the disorderly to submission. I halted for the night at Burch's mills, the spot from which the terror of his avenging sword brought the crowd of deluded fanatics, to solicit with earnestness written protections from his own hand. Standing on a spot which was once the theatre of so much military prowess, my thoughts reverted to the many interesting reminiscences associated with the actors in a scene of deep and fearful interest, now almost swept away by the rapid march of human existence. My sole object in travelling, being the recovery of health, by change of place and diversion of mind, I felt inclined to pause at this point of my journey, and inquire for the ancient landmarks of the southern campaign-the Ebenezers of the mighty interposition and protection of the Divine Being, during the time's that tried men's souls.

I made my quest first to the boniface of the little inn where I put up for the night, but I soon found that the fumes of the mug had drowned everything like sober

reflection in the man's mind. To my inquiry, whether his family dwelt in this part of the country during the revolutionary war, he answered, "Not exactly, thank God. I hear you whig rebels blocked out every drap of the creature comfort. Old Erin was my birthplace, bless her, she keeps a can to make the heart merry," and reeling to a chair, he began to troll the old song, "Erin's my country."

But his son, a lad about 14 years old, hearing my question, called out to him, "Father, if the gentleman wants to hear about the old war, I'm sure granny Kate could tell him a tale long enough, if he'd listen."

"Oh! ah! she mought, if he could catch her in the mind,” replied the dozing voice of the other.

"Who is granny Kate, my boy ?" I asked playfully. "Ah! she's the old body that lives in the little hut jest below here; there's the smoke coming out of her chimney now-jest say Marion to her, and you strike the trail, she'l go on upon it, till she runs through, unless somebody stops her. Daddy says, mammy Kate is daft, but I'll tell what two gentlemen said, as went down to see her awhile ago-it seems as how they were old friends of hers; for they named many things as had happened, and set her aguine intirely; and when they'd heard her out, says one to the other, its as correct entirely as a printed book; and much truer, says the other."

"My little man," said I, "here is a trifle if you will show me the way to the old crone's, for I should like to hear her stories myself."

The boy was quite proud of being cicerone on the occasion, and went on without prompting to relate all he knew of the old woman's history.

Granny lived in a much finer house than this once. Her master, I expect was a kingsman, for they had great doings, but that did'nt bar out trouble it seems, for they got it o' both sides entirely."

We reached the door of the cottage, which was opened by a middle aged woman, of pleasing countenance, who recognizing Jamie, invited us politely to enter. With characteristic freedom he opened our business, by saying

"Maggie, the gentleman has heard of your old mither, and would like to hear her crack of the long war."

"Just walk in, sir-our mother is passing old; but her memory, like a candle in the socket, burns brighter the nigher it is to the end."

We entered softly; for some how or other I felt a sort of awe in approaching a being, whose sympathies, and very existence, seemed to belong to a former race.

"Is that your mother?" approaching an attenuated figure, sitting on a wicker chair, in the deep recess of the fire-place; her form attired in a black gown, and a coif, or rather hood of green silk, shading her head and shoulders. She appeared absorbed in thought, or so intent on the blue knitting which employed her fingers, as to be unconscious of our entrance.

"Your mother is deaf," I said to the matron.

"Ah! no, that has passed away, with her dimness of sight; she hears and sees clear, for a few years past, but yet her thoughts seem to roam back into past times; and unless we rouse her attention, she pays little regard to what is passing around her. Her eyes are almost as tender as a baby's, since her eyesight came

back, and we are obliged to shield them from the light. Step this way, sir, it will please her to go over old times. Mother, this gentleman wants to ask you about the old truce ground-he is travelling that way, and would like to hear what you can tell him about Gen. Marion and his men."

The old woman raised her head, and revealed a visage in which the outlines of deep thought and masculine beauty were still discernible. The sunken eye seemed to kindle at the moment with some sudden recollections, that came athwart the mind, and lighted up her countenance with animation.

"A traveller, Maggie, did you say? Do I dream, or has Constance Norwood's son come at last? Sir, I have kept the papers, as I promised the angel on her dying bed; and many a weary year has my life been spun out, waiting your coming; for God has spared my life to fulfil her last request."

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"Do, sir, do-my heart will answer to every word of it."

The memoir was prefaced with a short letter to her son, concluding with these words:

"Feeling that the days of my earthly pilgrimage must be few, and that I must be denied the only blessing I desire in this world, that of embracing my dear and only child, I have solaced my heart, and employed the failing moments, by writing a faithful account of the events of my life, as it has been connected with the interesting and perilous times in which I have lived. Receive it, as the last and most precious memorial of a mother, whose latest breath expires in prayer for the eternal happiness of her beloved son.

CONSTANCE NORWOOD."

My mother was the celebrated Constance Geraldine, the rose of Camden, and the beauty of the south. Envied, admired and courted, with fantastic singularity she disdained all the trappings of splendor and gifts of fortune, profusely scattered in her path, and bestowed her heart and hand on the unaspiring George Marion, the playmate of her childhood, and earliest lover of her youth. Though he was not formed to figure in the ranks of fashion, or bow at the shrine of mammon, my father was fitted to adorn the circle of private life in refined society, or to serve his country with undaunted bravery, had not death's sudden and untimely call summoned him from the bower of love, and the hopes of

“Madam,” I replied, “I am sorry you must be disappointed-I am not the person you suppose me, but only a passing visiter of these regions; and I may say, an enthusiastic admirer of the heroes of our revolution; but pray go on, and tell me who the gentleman is, you expect;" for at the moment the thought struck me, that I had heard the name of Constance Norwood before. "Who should it be, but the son of my dear lady, whom I nursed at my breast, and dandled on my knee? Sydney Norwood, is his name, and a bright boy he was for the eye to look on, and the heart to love. Woe is me that they sent him back to the old country, to toil" thick coming joys," to the awful realities of eternity. in their school, when he drank in learning like water. Though my existence was then hid in darkness, well My dear lady never saw him more--she lived but two can I picture the grief of her, who scarce a bride, was years after he was gone; but I heard years ago, that now the widow of the dead. But her widowhood was he was come back and settled a great man in New of short duration: sorrow had sowed the seeds of disease York. Why he has never sent or come for my lady's in a constitution naturally delicate; and in three short papers, I can't tell; maybe, he never got Sweeney's let-years, was my infancy deprived of the care of both ter about it."

"My dear woman," I said, "is it possible that you speak of my deceased friend Sydney Norwood? Yes, it must be the same. I have heard him mention his mother as a southern lady, and dying while he was yet young and abroad. I am sure he never received any intelligence from you respecting her. I was with him frequently, and often heard him regret knowing so little of his own early history."

parents. There existed between my father and his elder brother, Gen. Francis Marion, the most devoted attachment, which was extended in all its warmth to my mother and her helpless babe. He left the pleasing toils of agriculture to watch at her dying pillow, and soothed her departing spirit with the solemn promise of being a father to her orphan child. A faithful dependant of the Marion family was selected as a nurse, by my uncle, who, being at that time a bachelor, "Then, sir, it is all over, and I must die with a bur- thought it best to place me in the family of my materden still on my heart."

"Would you have any objection," I said, "as the person nearest concerned is gone, to my looking over these manuscripts in your presence? Perhaps they may contain something important, which it may be necessary to keep no longer concealed."

"Certainly, sir, it will be a great relief to my mind. I hope the fear of God will be before your eyes. Bring the portmanteau, Maggie, and put it before the gentleman. Here are the keys," (drawing out of her pocket a leathern pouch.)

The trunk contained several packets; the private correspondence of the lady with the distinguished officers of the southern army. Besides these, there was a roll inscribed, “a brief memoir of my own life, as it has been connected with the eventful era in which I have lived, dedicated to my son, Sydney Norwood."

"Ah, that is the paper!" exclaimed the old woman. "Shall I break the seal, madam ?"

nal relative, Sir John Heywood, then residing in the vicinity of Charleston. His household consisted of himself, his maiden sister Rachel, and an only son, now abroad for the completion of his studies. My arrival was greeted with something like pleasure in the old family residence ; the old gentleman, pleased at having a new subject for the exercise of his quaint humor and stale conceits, and my aunt Rachel at the prospect of rearing a young scion, according to her own ideas of female propriety.

The first ten years of my life were passed in so quiet happiness, as scarcely to leave any impression of their flight. Aunt Rachel thought me too young to be put into leading-strings, and Sir John was generally too much absorbed in the musty volumes of the old school, to check my gambols, while the arms and heart of my good nurse, Kate Sweeney, were always open to protect and comfort me. It is not with a feeling of vanity, that I say I possessed, even at that early age, a pene

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