and who was disposed to receive him with great cordiality. The proud spirit of the Virginian could not submit to receive kindness from an enemy; but the Englishman, after the battle, felt the emotions of friendship, and solicited his academic friend, since he was wounded, to take a seat in his sleigh for Malden, to which he must of necessity resort. The Virginian refused, saying, that he would never be indebted to an enemy. The Englishman attempted to soothe the mind of his former friend, and persuade him to accept of kindness from one who felt no hostility in his heart; but it was all in vain I will owe nothing to an enemy,' was the reply of the unsubdued spirit of the American, and therefore he attempted to march for Malden. Not far had he proceeded before his strength failed, and then he was glad to present an Indian five dollars for the privilege of riding his horse. The vehicle of his friend was gone, and Indians were his companions; but these savages are not to be trusted. Before he could arrive at the place of his destination, some Indians asked the owner of the horse, why that American rode. The owner replied, because he has paid me. This was a sufficient inducement, and the wild children of the woods having watched their opportunity, shot the unhappy youth, who disdained the entreaty of his classmate.-Let us give the Engli hman his due. In the evening I preached in the Almshouse, The room was uncomfortably full, and the dying were around me; but who could be silent? Three different persons in so many rooms, sent for me to come and pray with them. Two of them I have visited before. Some whom I instructed when last there, were dead. M-B-was also very grateful for renewed attentions. My hope is,' she said with tears, that God has pardoned my sins, and that he will pardon them.' With Mrs. G-H--, I prayed also. She fails fast; but she says, that since I saw her last God has been pleased to give her some sweet communion with himself. Indeed, she complains of a hard heart still, but she seems like a little child. What she said, and what others uttered, I would record, but am exhausted. This evening concludes the first quarter of my services performed under the patronage of the Society for supporting the Gospel among the Poor in the City of New York. It produces so much pain to write my Journal after the fatigues of the day, that I am determined to write but little more. If the exhibition already made will not influence Christians to continue to support the gospel among the poor in this metropolis, nothing which I can write, will have that effect. God bless his word, and have pity on the poor!" Art. XIII. Narrative of the Imprisonment and Escape of Peter Gordon, Second Mate in the Barque Joseph, of Limerick, Captain Connolly. Comprising a Journal of the Author's Adventures in his Flight through the French Territory, from Cambray to Rotterdam, and thence to the English Coast. 8vo. pp. 285. Price 7s. London, Conder, 1816. THIS simple and unaffected statement of individual hardships, will not appeal in vain to the sympathy of its readers. VOL. VI. N. S. H Although we are at length relieved from all apprehensions, lest similar dangers should befal any in whose interests we may be immediately concerned, yet the contemplation of what has been experienced by others, ought to make us doubly sensible of the blessings of peace, which again restores the prisoner to his home, and enables the mariner to pursue his voyage unembittered by the fear of being captured ere he reach the end of it, and condemned to waste in imprisonment the months, or even years, during which he hoped to gain a subsistence for his family. The Author modestly apologizes in an Advertisement, for the imperfections of his style, and expresses great concern for the falsehoods to which he had recourse in order to escape detection during his route, and which, as in the course of his Narrative he shews with great naiveté, so bewildered his mind at last, that he was at times obliged to recollect himself, in order to ascertain which of the characters he personated, really belonged to him. Among the many baneful effects of the late war, may be reckoned the habit of dissimulation and falsehood which it introduced into our commercial system, on account of the great restraints under which it laid our shipping, and the continual temptations thus held out to captains of merchantmen, and their crews, to take false oaths, and assume false characters. This practice of falsehood has in many instauces, we fear, become so habitual, as to awaken hardly any consciousness of guilt, much less that degree of compunction which is so ingenuously expressed by our young Adventurer. The style of the work is rather pleasing than otherwise, its peculiarities being not those of ignorance, or of vulgarity, but merely modes of expression common to the Author's line of life, which has acquired a language of its own. The following short specimen describes the Author's departure from Cambrai. Having carried the other half of the watch-spring to be made into another saw, I got a louis changed into silver money, and besides it, had with me one lo is, besides the other two, and two guineas which were concealed. It was only two o'clock, and I could find nothing more to do. I walked up one street, and down another, and thought that every person who looked at me, knew I was about to desert. I came to a church, and went into it for a few minutes; then returned to the market place, where I met with a person of the name of Welch, who lived in the same room with myself; I walked with him to the gate, and waited his return with impatience; remembering, that if I again passed through the avenue of shady trees, which I was then pacing with so much uneasiness, it would be, most likely, worn out with hardships and fatigue, and chained to some miserable conscript or deserter; which, very possibly, might be the case in a few days. In about a quarter of an hour, Welch returned with a companion after passing some time in calling at two or three houses where they were acquainted, we walked round the greater part of the town. I endeavoured to persuade them to try to pass the gates, in order to have a walk in the country, but to no purpose. Returning through the market place, we met some others of the prisoners, with whom my companions were acquainted; as they stopped talking to each other before the Municipality, the town clock struck four. The sound of the hammer, whilst knocking off the irons of a pardoned felon, could scarcely have been more agreeable than this was to me.'The Paris gate by which I made my sortie, was in an opposite direction to the road I had to go, which ran out from the Valenciennes gate. I kept on towards the Valenciennes gate, which I supposed to be nearer than that of Paris; after a great deal of trouble, being arrived within half a furlong of it, and close to the back of the citadel, I heard the muster bell ring. This certainly disappointed, but at the same time animated me; for I well knew if I was only a few minutes after the muster, which I had hitherto regularly attended, it was most likely I should be imprisoned about ten days in a cachôt; rather than suffer which punishment I had always been determined to desert, although I might be quite unprepared. I set out with fresh resolution, knowing that my safety depended in a great measure on the distance I should be from Cambrai in the morning. There was a very thick fog, which increased so much, that I could not perceive a tree at the distance of a dozen yards. After having proceeded about a furlong, through gutters, ditches, bad roads, &c. towards the high road to le Quesnoy, which I had frequently reconnoitred from the ramparts of Cambrai, and knew at once on arriving at it; I was surprised to find the road in as good order, and as dry as any I ever trod on; it being well paved, and very level, not thawed in the least degree. After taking the direction of it by compass, to make sure that I was in the right road, I set forward with a heart as light as a feather, much rejoiced that I had been too late to return into the citadel. At first every footstep I heard, whether of man or horse, made me quit the road for the fields, where I laid down, or dodged behind the trees with which the road was lined on either side; but finding that I lost a great deal of time by doing this, and that very few persons passed, I determined to run the chance, and to keep the road. Every one I passed, wished me un bon soir', which compliment I of course returned. The fog was so very thick that we could not distinguish what sort of a being it was that passed, although our elbows touched.' Having been walking at a very brisk rate, at ten o'clock I found myself at the entrance of le Quesnoy. I felt rather at a loss how to pass through this place, which I was obliged to do, on account of a small stream. As I drew near the gate, I found there were a number of houses outside the walls, in the way to and from which, several old women were continually passing the gate, many of them with lamps in their hand, and to the continual challenge of Qui vient?' from the sentries, one or more were always answering. I very quietly passed through, and although I had not the least idea of any of the streets, arrived in a few minutes at another gate, through which I passed with a party of five or six persons, who had just answered the challenge. Three roads now offering themselves, I took the left hand one at random, as I could not make use of my compass on account of persons occasionally passing: after going about a quarter of a mile, I found it became narrow and rugged, and on taking its bearings, found that it was not the right one. I spent some time in endeavouring to regain the right road across the fields, but was at length obliged to return close to the town, and take the middle road of the three, which was as good as that from Cambrai to le Quesnoy. Mr. Gordon does justice to the laws of France, by acknowledging that they are very strict in forbidding the plundering of prisoners of war on any pretence whatever; but he remarks, that the laws are not administered by those who make them; and if they were, precept and practice are very different branches of moral philosophy. Certain it is, that Mr. G. and his companions had no reason to imagine, by the state in which they were sent to prison, that a law existed against their being robbed of their clothes, and what few valuables they might have about them. An old blue jacket, trowsers, and waistcoat, a hat, a shirt, an old pair of shoes, a silk handkerchief, and a pair of braces formed the whole of Mr. Gordon's wardrobe; his watch, and two or three dollars in small money of different countries, constituted the remainder of his wealth. Blessed however, with youth and health, and a cheerful disposition, he frequently derives amusement from occurrences that would have filled most men with vexation, his mortifications chiefly tending to excite in him a more determined resolution to get away from them. His first attempt was however somewhat premature, and unfortunate in its consequences, for being overtaken with the companion of his flight, they were fastened by the thumbs together, and remanded into close confinement. His next undertaking was more successful, and it is impossible to read without lively sympathy the interesting detail of his hopes and fears, the various plans that entered his head, and were fondly cherished and ultimately rejected, before he ventured to take the step, upon the fortune of which his future life seemed to depend: when that step is taken, the interest he excites is increased, and he carries the reader along with him, through all This hazards and fatigues, till, after innumerable risks and narrow escapes, he has the pleasure of leaving him safe among his friends, and grateful for his deliverance, to Him who redeemed him from the land of the enemy. The profits of the work are intended to be devoted to the Patriotic Fund, to which the Author acknowledges his obligations, and those of his fellow sufferers, in the following terms. From the English Committee appointed for distributing the money allowed by the Patriotic Fund at Lloyd's, to prisoners of war in France, each sailor received seven pence, and I as a passenger not on French pay, received 1s. 10d. which sums we were to receive weekly. Without this assistance, small as it may appear in England, there would scarcely have remained a prisoner in France, as they would have been either obliged by their necessities to enter into the French service, or have perished miserably for the want of the commmon necessaries of life: thus have the subscribers to this truly patriotic fund most effectually served about 10,000 British seamen and soldiers, by allowing them a penny a day to supply themselves with the absolute conveniences of life; and to the assistance which I received from this fund, I with gratitude acknowledge myself in a great measure indebted for my present liberty.' p. 86. Art. XIV. 1. Waterloo. A Poem; with Notes. By Henry Davidson, THESE poems will serve to furnish an apt illustration of the remarks which occur in the first Article, with respect to political poetry. The only interesting part of Mr. Davidson's poem, are, we were going to say, the Notes. The metrical narrative is diffuse and incoherent, "full of sound "and fury," but leaving no distinct impression; and the poetical flourishes with which the story is perpetually interrupted, remind us of the solemn whiffs and puffs by means of which, when smoking was in vogue, the Coffee-house politician prolonged attention to his important tale. The versification has all the looseness without the spirit of Walter Scott's tales. Mr. Davidson must attain eminence as a poet, as well as an Advocate,' before he can be indulged in such careless rhyming as, charge and urge, charge and St. George, eve and brave, flood and loud, sepulchre and hear, &c. &c. and in such versifying as the following, Mute is each sound, yet Fancy's ear With banners streaming gay, |