party reached Hoboken about midnight, where they were concealed in the adjoining wood,-Lee with three dragoons stationing himself near the river shore. Hour after hour passed-no boat approached. At length the day broke and the major retired to his party, and with his led horses returned to camp, when he proceeded to headquarters to inform the general of the much lamented disappointment, as mortifying as inexplicable. Washington having perused Champe's plan and communication, had indulged the presumption that at length the object of his keen and constant pursuit was sure of execution, and did not dissemble the joy such conviction produced. He was chagrined at the issue, and apprehended that his faithful sergeant must have been detected in the last scene of his tedious and difficult enterprise.

In a few days, Lee received an anonymous letter from Champe's patron and friend, informing him that on the day preceding the night fixed for the execution of the plot, Arnold had removed his quarters to another part of the town, to superintend the embarkation of troops, preparing (as was rumored) for an expedition to be directed by himself; and that the American legion, consisting chiefly of American deserters, had been transferred from their barracks to one of the transports; it being apprehended that if left on shore until the expedition 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 Virginia! 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 Raw

don.

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 the late major, now lieutenant-colonel Lee. His whole story soon became known to the corps, which reproduced the love and respect of officer and soldier (heretofore invariably entertained for the sergeant), heightened by universal admiration of his late daring and arduous attempt.

Champe was introduced to general Greene, who very 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 his discharge from further service,* lest he might, in the vicissitudes of war, fall into the enemy's hands; when, if recognised, he was sure to die on a gibbet.

FROM THE FUNERAL ORATION ON THE DEATH OF GEN. WASHINGTON, DELIVERED AT THE REQUEST OF CONGRESS.

How, my fellow-citizens, shall I single to your grateful hearts his pre-eminent worth! Where shall I begin in opening to your view a character throughout sublime? Shall I speak of his warlike

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 feld at the head of a company of infantry.

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

achievements, all springing from obedience to his country's will-all directed to his country's good!

Will you go with me to the banks of the Monongahela, to see our youthful Washington supporting, in the dismal hour of Indian victory, the ill-fated Braddock, and saving, by his judgment and his valour, the remains of a defeated army, pressed by the conquering savage foe? Or, when oppressed America, nobly resolving to risk her all in defence of her violated rights, he was elevated by the unanimous voice of Congress to the command of her armies! Will you follow him to the high grounds of Boston, where, to an undisciplined, courageous, and virtuous yeomanry, his presence gave the stability of system, and infused the invincibility of love of country? Or shall I carry you to the painful scenes of Long Island, York Island, and New Jersey, when, combating superior and gallant armies, aided by powerful fleets, and led by chiefs high in the roll of fame, he stood the bulwark of our safety, undismayed by disasters, unchanged by change of fortune? Or will you view him in the precarious fields of Trenton, where deep gloom, unnerving every arm, reigned triumphant through our thinned, worn down, unaided ranks, himself unmoved. Dreadful was the night. It was about this time of winter-the storm raged the Delaware rolling furiously with floating ice, forbade the approach of man. Washington, self-collected, viewed the tremendous scene. His country called; unappalled by surrounding dangers, he passed to the hostile shore; he fought, he conquered. The morning sun cheered the American world. Our country rose on the event, and her dauntless chief pursuing his blow, completed, in the lawns of Princeton, what his vast soul had conceived on the shores of the Delaware.

Thence to the strong grounds of Morristown, he led his small but gallant band; and through an eventful winter, by the high effort of his genius, whose matchless force was measurable only by the growth of difficulties, he held in check formidable hostile legions, conducted by a chief experienced in the arts of war, and famed for his valour on the ever memorable heights of Abraham, where fell Wolfe, Montcalm, and since, our much lamented Montgomery, all covered with glory. In this fortunate interval, produced by his masterly conduct, our fathers, ourselves, animated by his restless example, rallied around our country's standard, and continued to follow her beloved chief through the various and trying scenes to which the destinies of our union led.

Who is there that has forgotten the vales of Brandywine the fields of Germantown-or the plains of Monmouth? Everywhere present, wants of every kind obstructing, numerous and valiant armies encountering, himself a host, he assuaged our sufferings, limited our privations, and upheld our tottering Republic. Shall I display to you the spread of the fire of his soul, by rehearsing the praises of the Hero of Saratoga, and his much-loved compeer of the Carolinas? No; our Washington wears not borrowed glory. To Gates-to Greene, he gave without reserve the applause due to their eminent merit; and long may the chiefs of Saratoga and of Eutaw receive the grateful respect of a grate ful people.

Moving in his own orbit, he imparted heat and light to his most distant satellites; and combining the physical and moral force of all within his sphere, with irresistible weight he took his course, commiserating folly, disdaining vice, dismaying treason, and invigorating despondency; until the auspicious hour arrived, when, united with the intrepid forces of a potent and magnanimous ally,

uni

FIRST IN WAR, FIRST IN PEACE, AND FIRST IN THE HEARTS OF HIS COUNTRYMEN, he was second to none in the humble and endearing scenes of private life. Pious, just, humane, temperate, and sincere form, dignified, and commanding, his example was edifying to all around him, as were the effects of that example lasting.

To his equals he was condescending; to his in feriors kind; and to the dear object of his affections exemplarily tender. Correct throughout, vice shuddered in his presence, and virtue always felt his fostering hand, the purity of his private character gave effulgence to his public virtues.

His last scene comported with the whole tenor of his life. Although in extreme pain, not a sigh, not a groan escaped him; and with undisturbed serenity he closed his well-spent life. Such was the man America has lost! Such was the man for whom our nation mourns!

ROYAL TYLER

WAS a wit, a poet, and a Chief Justice. His life certainly deserves to be narrated with more particularity than it has yet received. His writings, too, should be collected and placed in an accessible form. American literature cannot be charged with poverty while it has such valuables uninvested in its forgotten repositories.

Royal Tyler was born in Boston, in the neighborhood of Faneuil Hall, about the year 1756. He was a Harvard graduate of the class of 1776; studied law in that school of patriotism, the office of John Adams, and was for a short tune aide-decamp to General Lincoln. He served in the same capacity in the suppression of Shay's rebellion in 1786; and was employed in some negotiations connected with that affair in a visit to New York, where a comedy which he had written during his military service was produced on the stage. It was entitled The Contrast, and has the distinction of being the first stage production in which the Yankee dialect and story telling, since so familiar in the parts written for Hackett, Hill, and others, was employed. It was more than that; it was the first American play which was ever acted on a regular stage by an established company of comedians. It was played at the old John Street Theatre in New York, under the management of Hallam and Henry, April 16, 1786.* Its success was such as to induce the author to produce a second, entitled May Day, or New York in an Uproar, for the benefit of the actor Wignell in the May following.

The Country Jonathan, in the Contrast, on a visit to town, drops into the theatre with the expectation of seeing "a hocus pocus man," and sits out a performance of the School for Scandal without any notion that he has visited a playhouse. On being asked if he saw the man with his tricks"Why I vow," says he, "as I was looking out for him, they lifted up a great green cloth, and let us look right into the next neighbor's house."

He gave the copyright to the principal actor in the piece, Vignell, who published it by subscription.

"Have you a good many houses in New York made in that ere way?" he asks, and is told not many, a but did you see the family? Well, and how did you like them?" "Why, I vow, they were pretty much like other families;-there was a poor good-natured curse of a husband, and a sad rantipole of a wife." At the close, he asks for his money, as he has not had the show:-" the dogs a bit of a sight have I seen, unless you call listening to people's private business a sight."

Tyler not long after gained considerable reputation by his contributions to that very pleasant newspaper and miscellany, one of the very best of its kind ever published in this country, the Farmer's Weekly Museum, published at Walpole in New Hampshire, by Isaiah Thomas and David Carlisle. When Dennie became its editor, Tyler was called in to assist him with his contributions from the shop of Messrs. Colon and Spondee, an amusing melange of light verse and entertaining social and political squibs, which he had already opened in the journals, the Eagle, at Hanover, the Federal Orrery at Boston, and the Tablet. Tyler thus announced the project in a parody of the advertisements of the "Universal Stores" of those days.

VARIETY STORE.

TO THE LITERATI

Mess. COLON & SPONDEE

WHOLESALE DEALERS IN

VERSE PROSE and MUSIC,
Beg leave to inform the PUBLIC
and the LEARNED in particular, that
-previous to the ENSUING
COMMENCEMENT-

They purpose to open a fresh Assortment of
Lexographic, Burgursdician, & Parnassian
GOODS,

SUITABLE FOR THE SEASON,

At the Room on the PLAIN,+ lately occupied
by Mr. FREDERIC WISER, Tonsor,
if it can be procured-

-Where they will expose to SaleSALUTATORY and Valedictory Orations, Syllo

gistic and Forensic Disputations and Dialogues among the living and the dead-Theses and Masters, Questions, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Syriac, Arabic and the ancient Coptic, neatly modified into Dialogues, Orations &c. on the shortest notice-with Dissertations on the Targum and Talmud, and Collations after the manner of Kennicott-Hebrew roots and other simples-Dead Languages for living DronesOriental Languages with or without points, prefixes, or suffixes-Attie, Doric, Ionic, and Eolic Dialects, with the Wabash, Onondaga, and Mohawk Gutturals-Synalophas, Elisions, and Ellipses of the newest cut-v's added and dove-tailed to their vowels, with a small assortment of the genuine Peloponnesian Nasal Twangs-Classic Compliments adapted to all dignities, with superlatives in o, and gerunds in di, gratis-Monologues, Dialogues, Trialogues, Tetralogues, and so on from one to twenty logues.

Anagrams, Acrostics, Anacreontics; Chronograms, Epigrams, Hudibrastics, & Panegyrics;

*Dunlap's History of the American Theatre, pp. 72-8. † At Hanover, N. II.

Rebusscs, Charades, Puns, and Conundrums, by the gross or single dozen. Sonnets, Elegies, Epithalamiums; Bucolics, Georgies, Pastorals; Epic Poems, Dedications, and Adulatory Prefaces, in verse and prose.

Ether, Mist, Sleet, Rain, Snow, Lightning, and Thunder, prepared and personified, after the manner of Della Crusca, with a quantity of Brown Horror, Blue Fear and Child Begetting Love, from the same Manufactory; with a pleasing variety of high-colored, Compound Epithets, well assorted

-Farragoes, and other Brunonian OpiatesAnti-Institutes, or the new and concise patent mode of applying forty letters to the spelling of a monosyllable Love Letters by the Ream-Summary Arguments, both Merry and Serious-Sermons, moral, occasional, or polemical-Sermons for Texts, and Texts for Sermons-Old Orations scoured, Forensics furbished, Blunt Epigrams newly pointed, and cold Conferences hashed; with Extemporaneous Prayers corrected and amended—Alliterations artfully allied -and periods polished to perfection.

Airs, Canons, Catches, and Cantatas Fuges, Overtures, and Symphonies for any number of Instruments- -Serenades for Nocturnal Lovers -with Rose Trees full blown, and Black Jokes of all colours Amens and Hallelujahs, trilled, quavered, and slurred- -with Couplets, Syncopations, Minims and Crotchet Rests, for female voices- -and Solos with three parts, for hand organs.

Classic College Bows, clear starched, lately imported from Cambridge, and now used by all the topping scientific connoisseurs, in hair and wigs, in this country.

Adventures, Paragraphs, Letters from Correspondents, Country Seats for Rural Members of Congress, provided for Editors of Newspaperswith Accidental Deaths, Battles, Bloody Murders, Premature News, Tempests, Thunder and Lightning, and Hail-Stones, of all dimensions, adapted to the Season.

Circles Squared, and Mathematical points divided into quarters, and half shares; and jointed Assymptotes, which will meet at any given distance.

Syllogisms in Bocardo, and Baralipton; Serious Cautions against Drunkenness, &c., and other coarse Wrapping-Paper, gratis, to those who buy the

smallest article.

On hand a few Tierces of Attic Salt- Also, Cash, and the highest price, given for RAW WIT, for the use of the Manufactory, or taken in exchange for the above Articles.

Tyler also published a series of papers with the title, An Author's Evenings, in the Port Folio for 1801, and subsequently. A liberal collection of these papers is included in a volume published by Thomas and Thomas at Walpole in 1801, entitled The Spirit of the Farmer's Museum, and Lay Preacher's Gazette. Tyler was at that time an attorney in Guilford, Vermont. His facility in verse in these compositions was remarkable. He had great command of versification and an abundant fund of impromptu humor. His "Colon and Spondee" articles are divided between Federal politics, attacks on French democracy, the Della Cruscan literature, and the fashionable frivolities of the day. The paragraphs in prose show the author's wit, taste in literature, and strongly marked opinions of the federal school in politics.

In 1797, he wrote a comedy in three acts, The

Georgia Spec, or Land in the Moon, in ridicule of a speculating mania for wild Yazoo lands It was repeatedly performed in Boston with success. He wrote some other dramatic productions, but none of them have been published.

In 1797 appeared from the press of David Carlisle, at Walpole, in two volumes, his Algerine Captive; or the Life and Adventures of Doctor Updike Underhill: six years a prisoner among the Algerines. It is dedicated to the poet Humphreys. This work is said to have been mistaken by an English critic for a narrative of actual adventure. It is a fictitious book of memoirs, in which the author ventilates his opinions on various topics of American society, paints the horrors of the slave trade and the now almost incomprehensible grievances which the European and American powers for a long time endured from the assumptions of the Algerines. In the close of the work there are some sketches of Mahometanism. The book is written in short chapters with spirit and neatness of style. There is quite enough ingenuity in the thought, coupled with the descriptions of the manners of the times, to redeem this work from the neglect into which it has fallen. Though printed in at least a second American edition, it is now exceedingly scarce.

In 1799, he composed a Fourth of July ode for the public celebration of the day at Windsor, Vermont, and a convivial song for the same occasion. He was frequently called upon for these services, and for the occasional prologues in vogue at charitable and other theatrical benefits.

The Fourth of July ode is fluent, but not over vigorous. A stanza will show its sentiment for the times:

When haughty Britons strove in vain
To bind our land with slavery's chain,
Our fathers drew their warlike swords.
Our fathers drew their warlike swords.
Immortal fields of Bennington,
Attest the laurels which they won.
Now faithless France, with impious hand,
Strikes at the glory of our land—
To arms! to arms each hardy son,
And earn the fame your sires have won.
The Convivial Song in the evening has more
spirit in it-

Here's Washington, the brave, boys,
Source of all Columbia's joys,
Here's Washington, the brave, boys,
Come rise and toast him standing:
For he's the hero firm and brave,
Who all our country's glory gave,
And once again he shall us save,
Our armies bold commanding.
Here's to our native land, boys,

Land of liberty and joys,
Here's to our native land, boys,
Your glasses raise for drinking;

And he that will not drink this toast,
May he in France of freedom boast,
There dangling on a lantern post,
Or in the Rhone be sinking.

In 1804 we notice Tyler as a contributor of verses to the Columbian Centinel.

In 1800, and for several successive years, he was elected by the Legislature of Vermont Chief Justice of the Superior Court. In 1809 he published two volumes of Reports of Cases in the

Supreme Court of Vermont.

He still continued

to write for the journals, in the Port Folio, and other quarters. Some of his latest productions appeared in the New England Galaxy.

In 1806 he was a contributor to Buckingham's monthly periodical, The Polyanthus, of the entitled "Trash," and a number of fugipapers tive poetical pieces, and again on the revival of the publication in 1812.*

The last portion of this life of literary gaiety was melancholy. Judge Tyler died at Brattleboro', Vermont, August 16, 1826, having suffered for several years from a cancer in the face.t

FROM THE SHOP OF MESSES. COLON AND SPONDEE.

Address to DELLA CRUSCA, humbly attempted in the sublime style of that fashionable author.

O THOU, who, with thy blue cerulean blaze,
Hast circled Europe's brow with LOVELORN praise;
Whose magic pen its gelid lightning throws,
Is now a sunbeam, now a fragrant rose.
Child of the dappl'd spring, whose green delight,
Drinks, with her snowdrop lips, the dewy light.
Son of the summer's bland, prolific rays,
Who sheds her loftiest treasures in thy lays;
Who swells her golden lips to trump thy name,
Which sinks to whispers, at thy azure fame.
Brown autumn nurs'd thee with her dulcet dews,
And lurid winter rock'd thy cradled muse.
SEASONS AND SUNS, AND SPANGL'D SYSTEMS ROLL,
Like atoms vast, beneath thy "cloud capt" soul.
Time wings its panting flight in hurried chase,
But SINKS in dew dropt languor in the IMMORTAL

RACE.

O THOU, whose soul the nooky Britain scorns; Whose white cliffs tremble, when thy GENIUS storms. The sallow Afric, with her curl'd domains, And purpled Asia with her muslin plains, And surgy Europe-VAIN-thy soul confin'd Which fills all space-AND E'EN MATILDA'S MIND! Anna's capacious mind, which all agree, Contain' a wilderness of words in thee. More happy thou than Macedonia's Lord, Who wept for worlds to feed his famish'd sword, Fatigu'd by attic conquest of the old, Fortune to thee a NOVEL WORLD unfolds. Come, mighty conqueror, thy foes disperse; Let loose "thy epithets," THOSE DOGS OF VERSE; Draw forth thy gorgeous sword of damask'd rhyme, And ride triumphant through Columbia's clime, Till sober lettered sense shall dying smile, Before the mighty magic of thy style. What tawny tribes in dusky forest wait, To grace the ovation of thy victor state. What ocher'd chiefs, vermillion'd by thy sword, Mark'd by thy epithets, shall own thee lord. The punic Creek, and nigrified Choctaw,

The high bon'd Wabash, and bland hanging Maw;
Great Little Billy, Piamingo brave,

With pity's dew drops wet M'Gilvery's grave.
What sonorous streams meander through thy lays.
What lakes shall bless thy rich bequest of praise,
Rough Hockhocking, and gentle Chicago,
The twin Miamis-placid Scioto.

How will Ohio roll his lordly stream,
What blue mists dance upon the liquid scene,
Gods! how sublime shall Della Crusca range,
When ALL NIAGARA CATARACTS THY PAGE.

What arts? What arms? Unknown to thee belong?
What ruddy scalps shall deck thy sanguin'd song?

What fumy cal'mets scent the ambient air,
What lovelorn Warhoops, CAPITALS declare
Cerulean tomahawks shall grace each line,
And BLUE EY'D WAMPUM glisten through thy rhyme,
Rise, Della Crusca, prince of bards sublime,
And pour on us whole cataracts of rhyme.
SON OF THE SUN, arise, whose brightest rays,
All merge to tapers in thy ignite blaze.
Like some colossus, stride the Atlantic o'er,
A LEG OF GENIUS place on either shore,
Extend thy red right arm to either world;
Be the proud standard of thy style unfurl'd;
Proclaim thy sounding page, from shore to shore,
And swear that sense in verse, shall be no more.
DELLA YANKEL

FROM THE SHOP OF MESSRS. COLON AND SPONDEE.

Spondee's Mistresses.

L.

LET Cowley soft in am'rous verse
The rovings of his love rehearse,

With passion most unruly,
Boast how he woo'd sweet Amoret,
The sobbing Jane, and sprightly Bet,
The lily fair and smart brunette,
In sweet succession truly.

II.

But list, ye lovers, and you'll swear,
I rov'd with him beyond compare,
And was far more unlucky.
For never yet in Yankee coast
Were found such girls, who so could boast,
An honest lover's heart to roast,

From Casco to Kentucky.

III.

When first the girls nicknam'd me beau,
And I was all for dress and show,
I set me out a courting.

A romping Miss, with heedless art,
First caught, then almost broke, my heart,
MISS CONDUCT nam'd, we soon did part,
I did not like such sporting.

IV.

The next coquet, who rais'd a flame,
Was far more grave, and somewhat lame,
She in my heart did rankle.

She conquer'd, with a sudden glance,
The spiteful slut was called Miss CHANCE;
I took the gypsy out to dance;
She almost broke my ankle.

V.

A thoughtless girl, just in her teens,
Was the next fair, whom Love it seems
Had made me prize most highly,

I thought to court a lovely mate,
But, how it made my heart to ache,
It was that jade, the vile Miss TAKE;
In troth, Love did it slyly.

VI.

And last, MISS FORTUNE, whimpering, came,
Cur'd me of Love's tormenting flame,

And all my beau pretences.

In Widow's Weeds, the prude appears;
See now-she drowns me with her tears,
With bony fist, now slaps my ears,

And brings me to my senses.

FROM THE SHOP OF MESSES. COLON AND SPONDEE.

Ode composed for the Fourth of July, calculated for the meridian of some country towns in Massachusetts, and Bye in New Hampshire.

SQUEAK the fife, and beat the drum,
INDEPENDENCE DAY is come!!

Let the roasting pig be bled.
Quick twist off the cockerel's head.
Quickly rub the pewter platter,
Heap the nutcakes fried in butter.
Set the cups, and beaker glass,
The pumpkin, and the apple sauce,
Send the keg to shop for brandy;
Maple sugar we have handy,
Independent, staggering Dick,
A noggin mix of swinging thick,
Sal, put on your russel skirt,
Jotham, get your boughten shirt,
To day we dance to tiddle diddle.
-Here comes Sambo with his fiddle;
Sambo, take a dram of whisky,
And play up Yankee doodle frisky.
Moll, come leave your witched tricks.
And let us have a reel of six.
Father and mother shall make two;
Sall, Moll and I stand all a row,
Sambo, play and dance with quality;
This is the day of blest Equality.
Father and mother are but men,
And Sambo-is a Citizen,
Come foot it, Sal-Moll, figure in,
And mother, you dance up to him;
Now saw as fast as e'er you can do,
And Father, you cross o'er to Sambo.
-Thus we dance, and thus we play,
On glorious Independent day.—
Rub more rosin on your bow,
And let us have another go.
Zounds, as sure as eggs and bacon,
Here's ensign Sneak, and uncle Deacon,
Aunt Thiah, and their Bets behind her
On blundering mare, than beetle blinder.
And there's the 'Squire too with his lady-
Sal, hold the beast, I'll take the baby.
Moll, bring the 'Squire our great arm chair,
Good folks, we're glad to see you here.
Jotham, get the great case bottle,
Your teeth can pull its corn cob stopple.
Ensign,-Deacon, never mind;
Squire, drink until you're blind;

Come, here's the French-and Guillotine,
And here is good 'Squire Gallatin,
And here's each noisy Jacobin.
Here's friend Madison so hearty,
And here's confusion to the treaty.
Come, one more swig to southern Demos
Who represent our brother negroes.
Thus we drink and dance away,
This glorious INDEPENDENT DAY!

LOVE AND LIBERTY.

In briery dell or thicket brown,
On mountain high, in lowly vale,
Or where the thistle sheds its down,

And sweet fern scents the passing gale.
There hop the birds from bush to tree:
Love fills their throats,
Love swells their notes,
Their song is love and liberty.
No parent birds their love direct;

Each seeks his fair in plumy throng; Caught by the lustre of her neck,

Or kindred softness of her song.
They sing and bill from bush to tree;
Love fills their throats,
Love swells their notes,
Their song is love and liberty.
Some airy songster's feathered shape,
O could my love and I assume
The ring-dove's glossy neck he take,
And I the modest turtle's plume;

O then we'd sing from bush to tree:

Love fill our throats,

Love swell our notes,

Our song be love and liberty.

THE AUTHOR KEEPETH A COUNTRY SCHOOL: THE ANTICIPATIONS, PLEASURES, AND PROFITS OF A PEDAGOGUE.*

Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,

To teach the young idea how to shoot,

To

pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind,
To breathe th' enliv'ning spirit, and to fix
The generous purpose in the glowing breast.
THOMSON'S SEASONS.

By our minister's recommendation, I was engaged to keep a school, in a neighbouring town, so soon as our fall's work was over.

How my heart dilated with the prospect, in the tedious interval, previous to my entering upon my school. How often have I stood suspended over my dung fork, and anticipated my scholars, seated in awful silence around me, my arm chair and birchen sceptre of authority. There was an echo in my father's sheep pasture. More than once have I repaired there alone, and exclaimed with a loud voice, is MASTER Updike Underhill at home? I would speak with MASTER Underhill, for the pleasure of hearing how my title sounded. Dost thou smile, indignant reader? pause and recollect if these sensations have not been familiar to thee, at some time in thy life. If thou answerest disdainfully-no-then I aver thou hast never been a corporal in militia, or a sophomore at college.

At times, I however entertained less pleasing, but more rational contemplations on my prospects As I had been once unmercifully whipt, for detecting my master in a false concord, I resolved to be mild in my government, to avoid all manual corrections, and doubted not by these means to secure the love and respect of my pupils.

In the interim of school hours, and in those peaceful intervals, when my pupils were engaged in study, I hoped to indulge myself with my favourite Greek. I expected to be overwhelmed with the gratitude of their parents, for pouring the fresh instruction over the minds of their children, and teaching their young ideas how to shoot. I anticipated independence from my salary, which was to be equal to four dollars, hard money, per month, and my boarding; and expected to find amusement and pleasure among the circles of the young, and to derive information and delight from the classic converse of the minister.

In due time my ambition was gratified, and I placed at the head of a school, consisting of about sixty scholars. Excepting three or four overgrown boys of eighteen, the generality of them were under the age of seven years. Perhaps a more ragged, ill bred, ignorant set, never were collected, for the punishment of a poor pedagogue. To study in school was impossible. Instead of the silence I anticipated, there was an incessant clamour. Predomi nant among the jarring sounds were, Sir, may I read? May I spell? Master, may I go out? Will master mend my pen? What with the pouting of the small children, sent to school, not to learn, but to keep them out of "harm's way," and the gruff, surly complaints of the larger ones, I was nearly distracted. Homer's poluphlosboio thalasses, roaring sea, was a whisper to it. My resolution, to avoid beating of them, made me invent small punishments, which often have a salutary impression on delicate minds; but they were insensible to shame. The putting of a paper fool's cap on one, and ordering another under my great chair, only excited mirth in

From the Algerine Captive.