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Clanrickard, by making him retain his attachment to a government that has oppressed and ruined him.
But whether it proceeds from habit, whim, a disposition formed to play at cross purposes, an orthodox christian temper which delights in returning good for evil, or some other latent spring of sentiment and action which it would puzzle even casuistry itself to develop-from whatever source it may arise, this honest Hibernian, steeped as he is in poverty and wretchedness even to the eyes, is a most passionate lover of every thing British, and an implacable enemy of all that is Gallic. Nothing can be a counterpoise to his attachment on the one hand, except it is his ponderous detestation on the other. But notwithstanding the cumbersome dimensions of these two master passions of his soul, he still finds in his bosom sufficient room to cultivate no inconsiderable share of commiseration and contempt for the hopeless condition of degenerate America. Hence he laments most piteously over the hard and deplorable lot of his brother Inchiquin, whom he considers as wandering forlorn 6 in the wilds” of the new world, where access to the solace of friendship is denied him, and where, on account of the igno. rance and savage disposition of the inhabitants, he is necessarily deprived of “ those social recreations” which among the enlightened and refined Europeans, had contributed to sweeten the chalice of his happiness; at least to dilute the bitterness of misfortune's cup. Poor and wretched, and hopeless as he is, he notwithstanding blesses his stars that he is at liberty to emerge once a week from the gloom and foulair of his miserable habitation, to gaze on the magnificent dwellings and spacious parks, the cheerful countenances and splendid pageantry of London opulence. Elate at the recollection of this high-prized privilege, he addresses his brother in the following tone of triumphant superiority. “ How different," says he, “is the scene that must strike your observation among the demi-savages of America, where a weak and ignorant government is idly engaged in framing laws for an uncivilized and heterogeneous population!. The American federation," continueshe, “I suppose cannot maintain itself much longer. According to the best judgment I can form of the prospects of that distracted country, the crisis. is
tough commercial ad
not very distant, when it will implore once more the protection of a parent state, which it has ever studied to outrage.” Notwithstanding all this, he at length declares, that if Inchiquin will not return “and live with him in England” he must come 6 and die with him in America." Such a resolution in Clanrickard may be brotherly; but, with all deference to his better “judgment" considering the sentiments he had before avowed, we cannot think it either consistent or wise.
The next letter which claims our attention, exhibits a character peculiar to itself, and is totally dissimilar to the rest of the work. By common readers it will be sought after with more avidity, and perused with a higher zest than any other part of the performance. And truly, in its kind, it possesses great merit. But this merit it derives from its style and manner, rather than from the importance of the matter it contains. It is neither written to Inchiquin nor by him. It is the production of a young modern Greek, born at Athens, educated in Smyrna, and who, in pursuit of wealth venture, had found his way to the city of Washington. This lively and volatile, but amiable Athenian, though ignorant, as Inchiquin declares, both of " mankind and every thing else, except half a dozen different languages that were equally familiar to him," had, like too many of our own countrymen, and like the ancient Greeks in their days of democracy, an uncontrolable propensity to speculate in politics. He accordingly commences his letter, which is dated at the “ Federal City," with a comparative view of the Turkish and American forms of government. Here, as was naturally to be expected, he is led by his early associations and national prejudices, to give to the former a decided preference. Indeed, in his estimation, so palpably and proudly pre-eminent is Turkey over America, in every thing relating to comfort and happiness, that he very feelingly declares, he “sighs once more for the cheerful crowds and fragrant environs, the beautiful bay and beloved scenes of Smyrna.”
But the principal, and by far the most amusing part of his letter, consists of a ludicrous yet not incorrect representation of the city of Washington, and a narrative of a day's ramble
through the “sylvan suburbs" of that metropolis, together with a very diverting catalogue of the adventures in which he was engaged, and the many mishaps that befel him during his inemorable excursion.
The style of narration throughout this whole letter, is truly excellent. It is simple, clear, animated, interesting and picturesque. It renders visible, as if sketched on canvass, every scene and transaction the writer describes. And the occasional strokes of wit and dashes of sarcasm with which it is interspersed, strengthen its character and heighten its effect.
A few extracts from it, besides doing more justice to the author than any description can possibly effect, will, we are confident, be acceptable to the reader.
“Of a fine morning, says the writer of the Epistle, three days ago, I sallied out for a ramble before breakfast, thinking, perhaps, to see something worthy of observation; and as adventures were my object, I left the highway, or avenue, as it is called, and struck into the moor, that composes a great part of the city. I had not walked a mile, when I heard a gun go off, and saw the smoke rising at a little distance. Not caring to encounter firearms in so wild a place, I was turning back, when I saw a dog hunting about among the bushes, and close after him a young man, who came running towards me, not to plunder, as I for an instant apprehended, but merely to inquire if I had seen a covey of quails flying that way. He had a powder-horn and shot-bag over his shoulders, a liquor-flask hanging on one side, and a pouch full of dead quails on the other, was altogether rather coarsely caparisoned, and seemed to be intent on his game. Just after he accosted me, an officer, in a rich habit and laced hat, but unarmed, came riding very fast over the heath, leading a horse ready saddled and bridled, and drawing up close to where we stood, pulled off his hat, and said to the hunter, “Sir, there are despatches just arrived.” “When?” cried the hunter. “ Within this half hour-by express-two sets,* Sir.”
* This accidental exposition, from a disinterested quarter, of a point that has been so unfortunately contested between the United States and Great Britain, must place the fact beyond all future controversù.
me the horse, and take my gun," added the hunter hastily; and disencumbering himself from his shooting accoutrements, he vaulted into the saddle of the led horse, and galloped out of sight in a minute. All amazed at this mysterious meeting, “Pray, Sir," said I respectfully to the officer, as he was gathering up the things the hunter had thrown off, “ Who is that?" " That is the envoy," answered the officer, with an air of dignity. “But who is the envoy?" replied I, “ What is an envoy? That's not the president, is it?” “ The president," retorted the officer, with a sneer, “I believe not--that's an other guess sort of a person-that's the envoy extraordinary.” “But why is he
“ extraordinary?” said I. " Why because,” said he.
6 Because why?" said I. “Why because he is the British ambassador, my master, and the king his master's servant, and I am his servant, and neither he nor I cares a dmn for the president, for the matter of that," said the officer, and mounting his beast, he trotted away whistling after the other.
“ And is it possible, thought I, that that young hunter is the British ambassador, the representative of the great merchant monarch, whose fleet forced the Dardanelles, and threatened to batter down Constantinople.
“With this sort of mental ejaculations I amused myself, strolling along in a different direction from that I had followed at first, and not paying much attention to which way I went till I came to a thicket, where I was roused from my reverie“ by the report of another gun, and looking about, I saw a rabbit, pursued by a couple of dogs in full cry. As I was. always fond of the chase, you know, and used often to amuse myself in this way on the hills near Ismir, I joined instinctively in the pursuit, shouted to encourage the dogs, and made the best exertions I could to keep up with them. The rabbit doubled, and made back for the
Just as she was escaping into the thicket, another shot whizzed by my head, and down dropped puss dead at my feet. Casting around for the person from whom it came, I presently descried a gentleman under a large tree, leaning on his fowlingpiece, and calling to the dogs to come in. As I approached him, he accosted me in French, telling me that I ran very well; to
which I answered, also in French, that he shot very well. Being thus mutually introduced by a slight compliment, we entered into conversation about the dogs, the rabbits, the ground, the weather, and a variety of such indifferent subjects, which lasted, I suppose, for half an hour, when a carriage drove up on a road a few paces distant, into which the Frenchman got with his dogs and dead rabbit, and drove away."
After this unexpected rencontre with the two embassadors, our young Greek, still within the purlieus of the city of Washington, stumbles by accident on a negro-quarter, of which he gives a description in high character. His next adventure is with a party of duellists-Then with a heterogeneous and very riotous concourse of people, assembled to participate in the sports of the turf. This he denominates, in eastern phraseology, the hippodrome, and describes the scene in the style of a master. His picture of the two coursers, however, is greatly distorted and caricatured by foreign prejudice.
Here his evil genius enticed him into a hackney coach, for the purpose of returning with more celerity and less fatigue, to his lodgings. But this ill fated vehicle proved to him the vestibule to a series of disasters, that might have broken down even the elastic spirit of the Knight of La Mancha. As they were jogging homewards, among hundreds of other carriages, horsemen, foot-passengers, chaises, stages and carts, which crossed, dusted and delayed them in a most vexatious manner, they were, all of a sudden, assailed by a tremendous hurricane, surpassing in horrors an Arabian sand storm, which blew carriage, horses, driver, and passengers, off the road into a deep, foul and pestiferous
, ditch. In this catastrophe, our hapless Athenian was well nigh finishing his carthly peregrination. To use his own language, he was left on the spot, “stupified, skinned, with one eye closed up, bruised, mangled, dislocated, and more dead than alive.” Now says he, “ It began to be dark. At any time I should have been perplexed to find my way in 'this desert; but bewildered as my senses were, I got up and moved on, as well as my lameness, blindness and stupefaction would permit, not knowing whither. Night gained on me apace, with all those apprehensions which the stou'est heart might own in an American desert. I fancied