birds is come." A fourth: "The voice of the barbarism to refinement; and I have been led turtle is heard in our land." Then all would to conclude that in every country where wealth unite in full chorus: "Glory to God in the is the principal object of pursuit, the great highest; and peace and good will among body of the people must always be slaves, men." While we were thus employed, we were astonished at a bloody appearance in the east ern horizon. What could occasion this singular phenomenon! The incident was unexpected, and threw a damp on our joy. We immediately had recourse to our prophetic books, and without much difficulty discovered sundry oracular intimations of this wonderful event. For after an event had actually taken place, we were extremely ingenious at adjusting the prophecy to the circumstances; but when we attempted, with no other guide but prophecy, to predict occurrences, we sometimes made little blunders in our calculations.-But alas! we were plunged into utter despair when we perceived gloomy clouds of infidelity, atheism and oppression to rise from the earth and destroy those faint glimmerings of light which had ravished our senses. "Behold, darkness covereth the earth; and gross darkness, the people!" This dreadful disappointment I owe to the French; help me to curse them. Piomingo. The French are a gallant people? Frank. They are a valiant people. Piomingo. Are they not a good people? Frank. They make good slaves, but execrable masters: I would as soon trust a madman with a firebrand in a powder magazine, as Frenchmen with the management of govern ment. Piomingo. I am sorry for your religious and political disappointment, Frank; but I do not account myself qualified to offer consolation. May I ask, in my turn, if you have not treated sacred subjects with rather too much levity. Frank. I have not: religion herself I venerate. But if a villain or a fool wrap his unhal. lowed limbs in the white robes of the goddess, shall his wickedness and folly be unnoticed? I trow not. Professors of religion are often ingenious at making distinctions where no difference really exists: I wish they would learn to separate those things which are not very intimately connected their professions from their ac. tions; themselves from their Maker. Piomingo. Were popular commotions again to take place in France, in England, or in any other country of Europe, would you entertain any such extravagant expectations as you did at the commencement of the French revolution ? Frank. Indeed I should not. I understand a little better, than I did in my youth, the nature of the motives that influence the actions of men. I have paid some attention to the passions and prejudices and follies of my species. I have studied, as much as my situation in life would allow, the progress of society from Piomingo. Why then should the termination of the French revolution be mentioned by you in terms of regret, since the people would have been equally slaves under a national assembly? Frank. Because, in a monarchical government there is but one freeman, or, as an ancient Roman would probably have said, there is but ONE MAN; but in a government where the power is divided among many, there are many who deserve the appellation of MEN.Because the minds of men are paralyzed by the iron rod of power in the hand of a tyrant and sink into torpid stupidity; but in a popular government, the mind of every man, who enjoys a portion of the sovereignty, is incited to action by emulation, ambition, and hope; and the energies of his soul are suffered to expand. In order to elucidate this subject, I will produce an example in point: The government of republican Rome was extremely unsettled and fluctuating; there was no end to the changes of its officers, regulations, and institutions; it vibrated contiually between the hands of the patrician and plebeian opponents; yet from this chaos of contention there arose-heroes, sages, gods upon earth! Now if we contemplate this same people under the dominion of a monarch, we see nothing but a brutal tyrant and degenerate slaves. Who would not rather buffet the waves in the tempestuous ocean of liberty, than rot in the putrid waters of the dead sea of despotism? Piomingo. I acknowledge the force of your remarks, and willingly subscribe to your opinion on this subject; but I cannot help observing that the degeneracy of the Romans was not occasioned by the imperial government; but, on the contrary, the imperial government owed its existence to the degeneracy you have mentioned. As long as the Romans preserved their national manners, their virtuous poverty, their profound veneration for oaths in fine, as long as virtue honor fame patriotism were the motives that impelled them to action; so long did the republican government subsist: but as soon as they had shaken off the yoke of salutary prejudices, and lost their original simplicity of manners; as soon as riches became the great object of ambition, and the wealth of Asia was poured into the lap of Europe-as soon as these things had taken place, the Romans became necessarily slaves. When one Cæsar was destroyed, they feel under the dominion of another, and continued to sink lower and lower in the mire of moral turpitude and corruption, till they were overwhelmed by the proud energy of restless barbarians. My dear friend, when we consider the poisonous effects of avarice, and the enervating influence of luxury, upon the man ners of men, we must despair, I am afraid, of seeing a permanent republican government in any civilized nation. Frank. Unless heaven should send down some mighty Lycurgus, with the will and the power to raise and educate a nation of republi cans. Piomingo. And your heaven-sent Lycurgus must take away the children, as soon as they are born, from their degenerate parents, and educate them in the wilderness far from the haunts of civilized men. Frank. What! make savages of them? Piomingo. No: make Spartans of them. Frank. O, that is the same thing: the Spartans were ignorant and cruel barbarians. Piomingo. Our modern Lycurgus must instil into the minds of his young republicans, not the vices, but, the virtues of the ancient Spartans. He must teach them to love their friends and their country, to suffer with patience the evils of life, and laugh at the ap proaches of danger and death. Let him im. prove upon the plan of the Spartan law-giver by forming an enlightened and civilized nation; but he must take care to prohibit the introduc. tion of personal property. There must be no appropriation of things to individuals or socie. ties: all must belong to the nation. Men must be taught to distinguish themselves by something more generous and noble than the accumulation of riches: they must place their happiness in friendship, love, honor, glory, and the good of their country; and not in the in. dulgence of selfish and sordid propensities. But enough of this. I have no intention to turn Utopian projector, unless I had power to carry my plans into execution. Frank. Suppose you and I steal four or five hundred ragged dirty little savages from the suburbs of Philadelphia, and establish a republic in the wilderness. The parents will get rid of a troublesome burthen; and we, transporting idea! shall immortalize our names. Piomingo and Fluent will rank in after ages with Moses, Lycurgus and Numa. Piomingo. Did I not tell you, Frank, that the children must be taken as soon as they are born before they are twelve months old they have imbibed half the follies of their parents and contracted a thousand civilized vices. Frank. Nay, then we may give up the scheme; for how should we manage five hundred infants squalling like devils; unless indeed, we could have them suckled by goats in a cave, or by wolves in the mountains? Piemingo. Frank, if you will not walk, I must absolutely leave you. I came out with the intention of walking: instead of which I been taking a lesson from you in this Academy of Vice. Frank. I shall accompany you immediately. I wish you had on your Muscogulgee apparel, that we might astonish the natives by the singularity of our appearance. Piomingo. Come, let us go. I am amazed, said Frank as we came out of the house,how you came to take such a dislike to a tavern, which is of infinite importance in a civilized city. Without these amusements, which you affect to despise, how would the idlers while away the tedious hours of insipid existence? How could politicians meet to discuss the affairs of the nation without the conveniences a tavern affords? Animated by the deity who presides in these temples the patriot is enabled to discover his flame; the wise, to communicate instruction to the simple; and the brave, to fight the battles of his country. Pray,did you never hear that that man of mind, the celebrated Johnson, declared a tavern to be the throne of earthly felicity? Piomingo. The Mitre tavern and Turk's head, I suppose, offered allurements superior to those of the place we have left: yet if a tavern be the greatest blessing of that civilized society, the moralist so much admired, we cannot be otherwise than amazed at the power of habit over the minds of the wisest of men. It is not, however, strange that a man, who has no endearing domestic connections, should be pleased with the ease and freedom enjoyed at an inn, and the spirit of accommodation displayed at a house of public entertainment: Such a man (although there be many who call themselves his friends) will find himself, as he advances in life, a kind of stranger on the earth, and will feel inclined to exclaim, with the amiable Shenstone. Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, The warmest welcome at an inn. Frank. A savage life was the object of Johnson's unconquerable aversion. Piomingo. Johnson was a lion in chains; his strong mind was fettered by invincible prejudices. If a favorite subject lay immediately before him, he would investigate it with vigor and accuracy, and lay open its various and minute ramifications; but he could not, or would not, take an extensive view of the nature of things. His education had given his mind a determinate direction: and he was afraid to look to the right lest he should see Gog, or to the left lest he should see Magog. He took but one view of an object: if the first appearance left a disagreeable impression on his mind, he immediately pronounced an unfavorable opinion; and never could be induced to take a side view of the same object, lest he should be under the necessity of changing his sentiments. If any doctrine ran contrary to his prejudices, it was never favored with a critical examination, but was rejected with the same terror and abhorrence that a man would oppose the approaches of a rattlesnake which evinced an inclination to crawl into his bosom. If any one advanced, in his presence, a heterodox sentiment, the presumptuous offender was speedily silenced by coarse language in a thundering voice, and by bold sallies of wit, which, enforced by the terrors of his name, there were none who would venture to with stand. Such a man was certainly liable to mistakes and if he fell into error, in error he would remain; for his sentence, once passed, was like the laws of the Medes and Persians -unchangeable. What were his violent denunciations against the Scots, against sectarians, against infidels, against the Americans, and finally, against the advocates for savage life, but bursts of passion dictated by inveterate prejudices? The infidels, for aught I know to the contrary, might merit his resentment; the Scots, by their intrusion into places of honor and profit in England, might expose themselves to his fury; the sectarians, by their opposition to the dogmata of the church, might occasion ebullitions of his zeal; the Americans, by daring to rebel against his king, might provoke his loyal indignation; but the savages-how happened they to awaken his sore displeasure, or to merit the disgraceful appellation of brutes? It is probable that Johnson supposed no man to be perfectly civilized who did not live in London, fare sumptuously every day,and enjoy the pleasures of literary society. He appreciated very highly the pleasures of the table and other luxurious enjoyments, and seems to have preferred the gross gratifications of sense to the more refined delights of the imagina tion. Frank. What is your opinion of Boswell's Life of Doctor Johnson? Piomingo. I think it one of the most enter. taining books in the English language. Every thing that relates to so great a man as John. son must be highly interesting and Boswell exposes to our view such an infinite variety of every weakness and folly, and exposed the whole to the eyes of the world, without any regard to the character of his friend;-and though we are amused with the fruit of his labor, we hate and despise the creature who contributes to our entertainment. Piomingo. Should not a faithful biographer relate every thing he knows concerning the man who is the subject of his history? Frank. He should relate every circumstance of importance: but why should he detail those little weaknesses which are rather a disgrace to human nature than any blemish in the character of the individual? What advantage can the world derive from being made acquainted with the lapses and follies of men eminent for their virtues and admired for their talents? Nay, I believe the consequence may prove extremely unfortunate; by lessening the veneration which was felt for the character of moral writers, it weakens the influence of their works upon society. Piomingo. But does not Boswell discover great art in relating these trifles in a manner so agreeable as he has done? Frank. Not so much art as you may suppose he discovers a patient and laborious assiduity in having collected and preserved every Johnsonic particle whether clean or unclean. He discovers, in his own character, a superabundance of folly and vanity,and (which is not at all inconsistent with the foregoing qualities) a considerable portion of contempti ble cunning. As for art in the arrangement of his materials, it was totally unnecessary: every thing that had any connection with Johnson must afford entertainment to the public. The notice that is taken of the most trifling actions of a man celebrated for his talents is thus pleasantly illustrated by little things concerning this illustrious person- writer: "Did you see Mr. pan agreeable age, that the most prying curiosity finds entertainment and gratification. He produces so much of Johnson's sterling intelligence, so many interesting literary conversations, interspersed with curious anecdotes, and 66 e?" Yes." "What was he doing?" " Picking his teeth.” Now, Piomingo, you and I might pick our teeth for a month before any one would ob serve it; but Johnson could not change his related in a manner so amusing, whole linen, squeeze an orange, or blow his nose, we can not read without receiving instruction and entertainment. Yet, after having pronounced this on the work, I must take the liberty to add, that the man who has formed his opinion of Johnson from reading the Ramblers and Idlers will find the character of the. great moralist sink in his estimation in consequence of the perusal of Boswell's production. Frank, Although I derived much pleasure from this performance, I have often wished that Johnson had been so fortunate as to have repulsed the advances of the creeping insinu. ating intriguing animal that afterwards became his biographer. The indefatigable sycophant, taking advantage of the intimacy he enjoyed, and proud of the ascendancy he had acquired over a mind so much superior to his own, pried into every corner, searched out K without Boswell's making a memorandum of the occurrence for the information of posterity. My tables-meet it is, I set it down. Why should we be told that Johnson devoured his food with such voracity as to excite a perspiration in his face, and occasion the veins in his forehead to swell, to the great annoyance of his delicate associates? What benefit is the world to derive from this disgusting picture? It may lessen the respect we felt for a man who was an honor to his country; and it may afford us a momentary amusement; but we hate Boswell for having noticed the circumstance. It was observed by Sir William Jones, that the best monument that could be raised to a literary man is a good edition of his works: and I will venture to add, that (whether we consider the fame of the author, or the good of society) the best life of Johnson would have been a splendid edition of all his works, except his political pamphlets. In corroboration of what I have said, it may be observed that Johnson, in order to display his powers in colloquial controversy, frequently advanced and supported opinions which he ventured not to inculcate in his writings. Piomingo. Boswell, certainly, did not suppress the foibles of his hero; neither did he appear desirous of concealing his own. Frank. A man is as much to blame for exposing his own failings unnecessarily as those of another. There are a great many disagreeable things in human nature which ought to be carefully concealed. Piomingo. What! do you dislike a man who declares his thoughts openly and freely? do you plead for dissimulation and hypocrisy ? Frank. I am an enemy to every species of imposition; but I see no necessity for exposing disagreeable objects, when no good can result from this exposure, and when no evil can be the consequence of concealment. What a fool that man would be who should proclaim aloud his vain, wicked, or childish thoughts! Even your blunt and impudent men conceal ten times more than they make known to the world. Nay, it is a common saying, that the only difference between a wise man and a fool is that the former exercises a sound discretion in this point; but the latter turns indiscriminately his thoughts into words. Piomingo. This, like many other common sayings, is far from correct. The wise man and the fool are essentially different; the former perceives clearly, reasons accurately, and judges soundly; but the latter is incapable of these things. Frank. I mean not to enter the lists in defence of the saying; but I contend that, should the wisest man in existence give, without reservation, expression to his thoughts, he would soon be confined in a madhouse. Piomingo. Whenever any thing is concealed, there is danger of imposition; because we may be led on by a pleasing exterior to form connections with an object, in consequence of an erroneous estimate of its value, if we be not made acquainted with the internal, as well as the external, qualities, Frank. And if we were acquainted with these internal qualities, you speak of, I am afraid that every object in existence would be odious in our sight. I express my opinions more freely than most men; and have the reputation of being "a plain blunt man" who "speaks right on"—so much so, that among my neighbors I am generally known by the appellation of Honest Frank; yet I have a thous and foolish thoughts and ridiculous notions, which I could not be bribed to make known. Nature has been blamed for not having put a window in the breast of man that the secrets of his mind might be visible; but she has been unjustly blamed. Since she had resolved to build a receptacle for "all manner of creeping things," she acted wisely in concealing the place of her abominations. Could we enter into the recesses of the minds of the most virtuous men, it is probable that we should find so much selfishness, vanity, and folly, that we should both hate and despise those who are at present the objects of our respect and veneration. Could we become acquainted with the secret thoughts of our most intimate friends, there is little doubt but our love and attachinent would give place to hatred and indignation. If there be any truth in these surmises, a wise man should be content with externals, when the exterior is pleasing,and not endeavor to pry into those things which are judiciously concealed from his eyes. But a principle of curiosity still prompts us to examine, as far as we are able, the secret workings of the mind, though the discoveries which we make are productive of consequences injurious to our happiness as individuals, and destructive of the regard we should feel for our species in general. Piomingo. And did you ever ask yourself the reason why you were not inclined to disclose your thoughts? Is not this backwardness occasioned by a blind deference to the maxims and customs of the world? Is not this concealment rendered necessary by the vicious disposition of mankind? When you are in a crowd, you think it necessary to take care of your pockets; when robberies are frequent, you bolt and lock your doors that you may rest in security; and in civilized nations, you conceal your thoughts, because you are surrounded by men who wait to take advantage of your weaknesses, and who are ever ready to usurp a dominion over your mind and to become masters of your actions by bribing, terrifying, or otherwise managing your passions, propensities and inclinations. It is not on account of the wickedness or folly of his own thoughts that a virtuous man thinks proper to conceal them, but because experience has made him acquainted with the malignant and ungenerous disposition of the world. And this evil disposition, which I have noticed, is not owing to any inherent depravity, but solely to a vicious education. What else could be expected among a people who are instructed, from their infancy, in the practice of deception; who are taught to wear the semblance of virtue merely for the purpose of concealing the substance of vice; who are taught to consider life as a struggle for pre-eminence, and who, being prohibited the use of open force, are under the necessity of having recourse to artifice and fraud? This is not exaggeration. The multiplicity of your laws proclaims the corruption of your manners and your attachment to vicious pursuits. Laws are never enacted to punish crimes which there is no disposition in the community to commit. If laws, therefore, forbid the commission of vice, it would seem to follow that the principal part of education, in a civilized society, would consist in teaching youth how to evade the spirit of the laws without transgressing the letter. I know a person now, who has often boasted in my hearing of having disposed of a horse, not worth twenty dollars, to an ignorant traveller for one hundred and fifty. This man has never been known to practise robbery or theft, according to the legal definition of those terms; but he takes to care enjoy the advantages that flow from a perpetration of those crimes without incurring any of those dangers which environ the robber or the thief who answers the technical description of the law. A man would be a fool indeed who would expose the secrets of his mind to civilized sharpers, who lie continually in wait to avail themselves of every favorable opportunity that fortune may throw in their way. Yet if society were so constituted that man did not prey on man, there would be no necessity for the cautious concealment you seem to recommend. Frank. There may be some truth in your observations; but I am inclined to believe that men, with an education the most salutary that could be devised (by all the wisdom of all the philosophers, savage and civilized) would still find it necessary to conceal their feelings and their thoughts from each other. I have heard it said that truth was the cement of society; but, in my opinion, men are held together by the means of falsehood and illusion. Could they see each other, as they are, there would be nothing but mutual abhorrence and contention. ་ An ingenious writer has observed that "if our souls had not been united to material substances, they would still have been capable of knowledge, but it is probable they would have loved whatever they knew; whereas, in the present constitution of things, we scarcely love any thing but that of which we are igno rant." All our happiness consists in delusive appearances: we search into the nature of things with eagerness and curiosity; but the moment that any subject is thoroughly investigated, we are disgusted and unhappy. The sentient principle and reasoning powers seem to unfit us for the station in which we are placed. They enable us to discover a thousand imperfections in ourselves, in others, and in the myriads of objects which surround us. They prompt us to inquire into the nature of our pleasures, and examine the foundation of our momentary happiness; but our delights and enjoyments will not bear to be analyzed: the instant they are subjected to the scrutiny of reason, the vapors disappear; and we wonder how we came to be pleased. You have said that there is no such thing as inhérent deprav ity; but if there be radical imperfection in our nature, where is the difference? We neces sarily fall into error; and our minds become the seats of corruption and vice. When we look inward upon this magazine of faults, this workshop of iniquity, we are frightened at our own depravity, and endeavor carefully to conceal it from the world, and, as much as possible, from ourselves. All things are imperfect that fall within the circle of our observation : and if we be not deceived by our pride, we will acknowledge that man is imperfect as well as the rest. Has not nature dressed the surface of things with a profusion of embellishments, and placed in the centre her repository of poisons, her seeds of corruption and death? Is man an exception? Alas! he is not. How often, during our intercourse with the world, are we captivated by a pleasing exterior, and afterwards have occasion to exclaim, O villain, villain, smiling damned villain! Piomingo. But all men are not villains. Frank. All men do not deserve the appella. tion of villains; but all have their faults, follies and weaknesses, which they very properly and judiciously conceal. What though I be imposed on a dozen times in my life by specious deceivers-is it not much better so, than it would be if I were able to see, in every one's countenance, the turpitude and depravity of his mind?-I should find myself surrounded by monsters, and be obliged to seek a refuge among the rocks of the desert. I wish every man to hide his faults as ingeniously as possible. Though men have the hearts of devils, I desire them to wear the faces of angels; because their faces fall continually under my inspection, but I have very little concern with their hearts. Piomingo. If I were among devils, I should like to know it, that I might be on my guard against their wicked machinations. Would to God, that every face were, as it ought to be, a picture of the mind! Frank. What species of armor would you use for your defence? How would you protect yourself on every side, at all times, and in all places? Must you be for ever uneasy? If a blind man were in a dungeon among ser. pents, and it were impossible to extricate him from his perilous situation, would it not be cruel to inform him of his danger? We are placed upon the earth, and necessarily con. nected with men; is it not much better that we should remain ignorant of the wickedness and malignity of our associates? An agreeable face conceals a vicious mind in the same manner that dress hides the deformities and diseases of the body. When we walk in the streets and press through the mar ket, every one we see makes a tolerable ap pearance; but were it not for dress which envelops the bodies of the multitude, we should be continually shocked with distorted shapes, "wounds, bruises, and putrefying sores." Let us therefore be thankful to the vestments which |