sea. Then, thrusting his hands into his pockets, he began to walk the deck and talk with the captain, who appeared as uneasy as his companion seemed tranquil. This scene, which was transpiring in the offing, was observed on shore by a group of persons who, since the morning, had been watching the ship in the tacks she made along the coast. The same anxiety that affected the passengers seemed to agitate these distant spectators, as they passed a spy-glass from one to another, from time to time making remarks, and communicating the results of their observations. "Oh! he cannot escape," said one. "There, he flings his packets into the sea. He must have discovered the most terrible of the enemy, and will try to get out of reach. See, the English hail them! Now they come up to the frigate! They board her! I see him going up the ladder! He is on deck! God preserve him!" And the group retired sadly. Let us return to the sea, where, as we have just seen, the fate of the small vessel was decided. The English frigate was the Nereid, commanded by the famous Corbett in person. He was a daring seaman, and, moreover, a perfect gentleman. He very politely seized the ship and passengers, and, after making them compliments of condolence, prayed them to accede to the arrangement he had to make for them, on board a prize that sailed under the cannon of his frigate with other captured vessels; while as for M. Louis, whom he had instantly distinguished from the rest of his companions, it was his wish to have him pass the time of his captivity on board the frigate. The prisoner at first sought to decline the honour, stating he was only a plain merchant, going to the Isle of France to dispose of a small quantity of goods; but, whether it was the effect of natural affability, or his intuitive judgment of an enlightened and superiour man, the commodore, by all sorts of gentle violence, at last succeeded in retaining the merchant with him. He invited his prisoner to dine with him, and M. Louis sustained the conversation with the utmost ease and freedom. Nevertheless, under the gayety he wore, a suspicious observer could have seen the most profound attention to everything around him, and a continual guard over himself, concealed by a happy disposition. The wine began to augment the good-humour of Sir Corbett. "To your good health, M. Louis," said he, emptying his glass of champagne. "To the accomplishment of all your wishes, commodore." "That is a presumptuous toast, Monsieur; for my first wish is to meet and conquer the captain who does the most honour to your navy." "If that is the case, commodore," said the prisoner, speaking somewhat louder, "I will restrict my toast. May you meet him, and may you both maintain the honour of your flags !" At this moment a midshipman came and whispered a few words in the commodore's ear, who appeared to take the liveliest interest in what he was hearing. A shade of uneasiness covered the face of M. Louis until the midshipman left them. "Do you know the commander of L'Eclair ?" asked Sir Corbett. "I have seen him once," replied M. Louis, finishing his glass with the utmost indifference. "Well, when you return to the Isle of France, where he now is, tell him that Commodore Corbett sends him his compliments for the prize of fifty thousand piastres, which the company offer for his capture, and that he has a mind to get it. Tell him further, to take good care of himself, for if I ever get him in my hands he will have no other table for a long while than the one where you are eating at this moment. Both of us are too much for the Indian seas, and I am tired of hearing his exploits recounted every day." The eye of the commodore flashed as he said these words. One moment the eye of his guest kindled also, but then instantly passed away. "Bah!" said M. Louis, with his good-natured air, as he knocked the glass of the commodore. "I like this noise better than that of cannon." The commodore smiled; but M. Louis had not finished the half of his wine when he replaced his glass on the table, and made a bitter grimace. "What is the matter?" cried Sir Corbett. "You "Ha, ha, ha!" roared the Englishman, laughing. are not as good a sailor as your countryman. Take my arm." And the commodore, still laughing, assisted him on deck, led him between decks, and along the batteries. At every step M. Louis uttered cries of surprise and naive exclamations, which might have created suspicion had not the marine thought it was quite natural to admire everything belonging to his sublime and perilous profession. The cannon, in particular, seemed to produce an extraordinary effect on him. Their enormous size and terrible aspect did not at all suit him. "I had no idea cannons were so large !" said he, regarding them with astonishment. "What mouths! Why a man could easily get into one!" His wonder and his comical remarks made the commodore wish to prolong the diversion his prisoner afforded him, he, therefore, proposed to fire a broadside. "No, no, if you please, commodore," he replied, at the same time manifesting so much uneasiness that Sir Corbett was nearly ready to die with laughter. As they turned to leave the battery they met a sailor, whose appearance gave the prisoner evident concern, for he hastened his steps, and put up his handkerchief to his face. "Hold, commodore," said he, frankly, "I have had my fill of the sea and of your frigate, and would willingly give a thousand piastres for one square foot of land. Can you not, then, find means to send me on shore?" "Your company is so agreeable, M. Louis, that I have a mind to keep you a long time; yet, after all, I love you too well to be difficult with you about coming to any agreement you wish.” They were on the gallery, that served to lengthen the captain's apartment, and from whence they could see the vessels he had taken. "Will you make a bargain with me?" asked the prisoner, as if struck by a sudden thought. "I would gladly buy one of your prizes. How much would you ask for the one with the broken mast?" "Are you speaking seriously?" "Very seriously, commodore." "Well, if you will give me eleven thousand piastres for the Sapajou, you will make an excellent bargain." "Agreed-eleven thousand piastres. But let us understand each other fully. I will give you eleven thousand piastres for myself and the vessel." M. Louis said this so innocently, and with so much goodnature, that Sir Corbett exlaimed, laughing— "The ship and yourself; it is understood." "Very well, commodore. Have the goodness to give me materials for writing, and please to place a small boat at my disposal; to-morrow, at the break of day, my eleven thousand piastres will be on your deck, and I shall tread my dear earth once more." Sir Corbett seated himself on his couch, gayer than ever. He showed his desk to the prisoner, who rapidly wrote a few lines. A servant came at the call of the commander, and the order was given to carry the letter on shore. M. Louis left Sir Corbett, while, from politeness, striving to check some little indications of gaping, and went and flung himself on his bed, where he made three hearty signs of the cross, and slept not all night, notwithstanding he had appeared so much fatigued. The next morning the boat returned, and M. Louis counted out the money agreed upon for the commodore, now and then stopping to smell a bottle of English salts, as a preventive of sea-sickness. A few moments after the Sapajou was detached from the frigate, and made sail for the island; but the pirogue which was to convey the prisoner was still fastened to the side of the ship. At last the commodore, still enchanted with his guest, allowed him to depart, and mingled many kind pleasantries with his adieux. M. Louis had placed his foot on the rope-ladder, while Sir Corbett, || still holding his hand, happened to cast his eyes on the shore. "I really believe," said he, "that your countrymen have never seen a frigate before. See them on the beach!" "They are admiring your beautiful horrour," said M. Louis, smiling. "I can soon say to them with the ancient: What would you have done if, like me, you had seen the monster near?" " Then, letting go the commodore's hand, he descended the ladder, and the pirogue made its way from the frigate. Some sailors, on the deck and rigging, were looking on. Lifting his eyes, as he waved his hand to bid a last adieu to Sir Corbett, M. Louis recognized the sailor whose sight had given him some uneasiness the previous evening. This man seemed scrutinizing him attentively, at the same time speaking earnestly to his comrades. "Bear away on your oars, but do not hurry," said M. Louis, in a low tone to the rowers; " and you, steer straight as possible for St. Denis. An inch gained may soon be of use to us." The pirogue had made about a third part of her way, and all eyes were fixed on her, when, all at once, a great noise was heard on board the frigate. Every pinnace hanging at the sides of the vessel was instantly lowered; Sir|| Corbett was making the most frantic gestures; his speaking-trumpet was at his mouth, and his arms energetically stretched out towards the pirogue; at that instant one of the pinnaces darted forward like a bird of prey, under the redoubled efforts of twenty oarsmen. "The miserable villain has spoken!" cried M. Louis, seizing the helm. Now, my friends, my fate depends upon the vigour of your arms!" The speed of the pirogue was accelerated, but the pinnace flew after her. M. Louis was no longer the good-natured citizen, unaccustomed to the sea; his whole person assumed the energetic attitude of a commander. His eye turned now on his pursuers, and then to those who watched for him on shore. A smile of mockery and defiance played on his lips and dilated his nostrils. "Courage, my friends!" cried he. But the pinnace gained on them rapidly; the city was too far; in three minutes the fugitives would be taken! There was no time to consider. At three hundred paces on the right, on the way to St. Denis, advances Cape St. Bernard, where the boiling waves dash furiously. M. Louis directed his pirogue towards it. They risked being dashed in pieces; but in this attempt there was the only hope of escape left them. The pinnace followed, evidently gaining on them. "Pull away! pull away!" cried M. Louis. waves. The pinnace was not more than thirty paces distant, but the pirogue had arrived at the barrier formed by the frightful As they broke over the bars she leaped into the troubled waters, resisted a moment, then broke into pieces. The frightened pinnace stopped, with lifted oars, while the rowers looked on those of the pirogue fighting with the waves. They struggled courageously, as they were carried sometimes towards the shore and then again drawn back into the sea. At last a man reached the land, stood up, and proudly turned himself towards the English pinnace, and made it a salutation, half mocking, half noble. Imme. diately the eager crowd ran along the shore, and those who outran the others pressed the fugitives in their arms. At that moment Sir Corbett, with rage, exclaimed: "To be tricked in such a manner! To have him, and let him escape! The good-natured, honest citizen, was he! But I will have vengeance! I will yet take him! I will take him, I swear it!” M. Louis was, indeed, the captain of L'Eclair; the hero of Bourbon, the terrour of the English; he whose capture was worth fifty thousand piastres ! Just one year from that day, a ship that the English had captured entered the road of Bourbon. It was the African, a superb frigate of the first order, just returning from England, and bringing back Commodore Corbett. The remembrance of the comedy in which he had been the dupe the preceding year was not effaced from his memory; and more than once, during the voyage, he had looked upon his beautiful frigate with pride, while thinking of the pretended M. Louis. He disembarked and proceeded to the governour's house, where a grand breakfast was given to celebrate his arrival. He found the governour, Sir Farquhart, in a large saloon, commanding a fine view of the sea, and delivered his despatches. While Sir Farquhart was turning them over, he walked to the window and looked out upon the road. At that moment a French vessel was turning from a long tack she had made at the extremity of the island. "Sir Governour," cried the commodore, "if I mistake not, I know that frigate.” "You do not deceive yourself, commodore; it is the Nereid.” "The Nereid, with a tri-coloured flag?" "She has carried that flag two weeks," replied Sir Farquhart, laying aside his papers. He then related the last engagement at Grand-Port, and added: "Yes, commodore, we have been beaten, four against two. It is true, that after the affair the conquerors were not much better off than the conquered. The Nereid received the least damage of all the frigates, so Captain B. took her, and has carried his flag on her ever since." "What!" exclaimed Corbett, his eyes flashing. "B. on board the Nereid? B. command a squadron?" "He has gained two promotions in two months. He is a bold marine." THE NEW MIRROR. he, striking his forehead; it is the same day on which he fooled me like a child-to-day is the anniversary of my shame. But this day I will be revenged! Sir Farquhart, give our squadron at St. Paul's the signal to get ready. B. and I must celebrate this day with the firing of cannon." An hour afterwards, Sir Corbett was traversing the port, followed by boats loaded with marines and soldiers. Five English vessels were ready. As soon as the commodore had reached the deck of the frigate, all the sails of the African were hoisted, and she bounded away as if animated by the impatient spirit of her master. It was then that the Nereid seemed to perceive she was threatened. She instantly changed her course, made a signal to a French frigate without the road, whose sails filled and went off; the Nereid sailed behind her, and took the post of honour. The English ships followed in the train of the African. It was a race of two rival flags. A crowd of English and French thronged the shore. "They fly," said the English. "Yes, they fly until further orders," replied the French. Night descended on the sea; a brilliant moon shone on the waves; and the Nereid kept on her course, though at a long distance behind her companion. The English vessels were equally distanced, for the African, being a fast sailer, greatly outstripped them. Her superiour speed soon left them still further behind, and in the same proportion brought her nearer the Nereid. Thus they ran on a greater part of the night. At three in the morning they were sepa rated only by a short space. On board the French vessel they had cleared away the hammocks, and were in readiness for action. Each man was at his post. Captain B. was standing on the quarterdeck, his night-glass in his hand. The dark mass of the English frigate appeared approaching rapidly by the pale moonlight. B.'s observations were suddenly interrupted. The English, eager to attack the enemy, did not wait till they had come up with the Nereid, but sent her a volley while pursuing her. B. seized his speaking-trumpet-"Haul in the larboard braces before," cried he, in a thundering voice," and hoist those behind." While they were executing this manœuvre, he slapped his lieutenant joyfully on the shoulder-" What say you to attacking Corbett? In being the first to fire, he has lost twenty seconds. The imprudent man, to spare me the trouble of dismounting my cannon!" In effect the forward sails of the Nereid were taken in, the others were hoisted, and the frigate, yielding to the recoiling movement, in an instant was at the side of the African. At this quick and unexpected manoeuvre the English commander saw the great errour he had made. He had pointed his cannon to strike the enemy, who were flying before him, and now his cannoniers were working to change their position, while those of the Nereid were pouring their broadsides into her. The French had lost some men, but corpses were heaped on the decks of the African. Corbett chafed; but his marines were brave as himself, and the combat was valiantly maintained. Deaths multiplied in the obscurity. Groans and cries mingled with the detonations. The balls made the blood spout, cut and broke the ropes and the ship; then a fight with sabres and axes commenced on both sides. Captain B. sprung upon the netting of his frigate. With one hand he held fast to the shrouds, with the other he held his speaking-trumpet. He was calm, but his eye kindled. Corbett was opposite him. The Englishman was furious, They saw each other for the second time. The commander of the Nereid made a dignified and gracious inclination to 66 Captain B.'s salutation to Commodore Corbett." The cannon of the Nereid continued to thunder with unabated ardour, but the fire of the African began to languish. Three-fourths of her men were killed. She had no His frigate moved like a warriour without arms. longer a mast left. The trumpet of Corbett was heard no more. The last cannon-shot was heard and then his batteries were silent. Cries of victory were heard on the opposite deck. "Take thirty men and go and man the African," said the French captain to his lieutenant. The officer obeyed, and boarded the dismantled frigate. A moment after a call was given from the English vessel: "The captain of the African prays the captain of the Nereid to come on board; it is the last wish of a dying man." Notwithstanding the extraordinary invitation, Captain B. did not hesitate to go. A frightful spectacle, even for his intrepid heart, met his sight on reaching the deck of the captured vessel. More than three hundred men were weltering in their blood. The deck panted with the death-rattle under his feet. The commodore was lying extended on his quarterdeck, struck by two musket balls. His pale face and half-closed eyes indicated the approach of death. Major Barry supported his head. On perceiving the French captain, his features grew animated; he made an effort, and held out his hand. "You "Thanks, captain," said he, with a sad smile. I have only a moment to live. Wait play tragedy as well as comedy. You have conquered, but do not dishonour me. till my eyes are closed before you hoist your flag on my ship." "Honour to you, commodore," replied his enemy with emotion; "it shall be as you desire." And, turning to his lieutenant-"Let the red flag be raised on the broken masts!" "Thanks!" faltered Sir Corbett, pressing his hand, after which he sank back on the knees of Sir Barry, and expired. "Sir," said Captain B. to the only English officer who had survived the engagement, "salute, with your last cannon, the corpse of your brave commodore!" When the funeral discharge had resounded, "Now," said he, "display my flag above the red one!" In the meantime, the remainder of the English squadron had crowded sail, and when day dawned the Boadicea, who led the rest, was within cannon-shot of the Nereid. Captain B. returned to his own deck. His men rallied round him. "Have we any more balis?" "We have not more than enough for twenty shots!" replied the commander of the battery. 66 Every one to his post, then, and hold himself in readiness to fight!" "The Boadicea," wrote the captain of the Nereid, in his report of the engagement, "contemplated the spectacle we had the honour to present her, and fell back on her division." E. P. AN IMPRACTICABLE MAN. DURING one of the many debates upon the tariff bill, which took place about this time, Mr. Randolph was, as usual, very energetic in his opposition to any increase of the rates of duty on manufactured articles. In one of his speeches he took occasion to criticise, rather severely, the arguments of a gentleman with whom he was on terms of friendly intimacy. He ridiculed some of his positions, and caused a laugh in the house at the gentleman's expense. The latter, having allowed his temper to get the better of his more sober judgment, arose with some warmth of manner, and after complaining of Mr. Randolph's mode of argument on so serious a national question, concluded by saying, that "however highly he estimated the gentleman's head, he would be sorry to take it if accompanied by such a heart." This severe repartee created quite a sensation in the House, and everybody expected a bitter and angry retort from Mr. Randolph. To the surprise of everybody he arose calmly, and with a smile on his countenance said: "Mr. Speaker, I am not offended at the harsh expressions which my friend (if he will still permit me to call him so) has used towards me in his reply to some harmless satire upon his previous speech. I say, Mr. Speaker, I am not offended, because I know that he does not really feel towards me as he now thinks he does, and that by to-morrow morning he will be sorry for what he has said. Neither shall I retaliate, Mr. Speaker, in the way that I might do, if I followed his example. For instance: I might say, (which, however, I do not,) that however highly I estimate the gentleman's heart, I would be very sorry to take it if accompanied by such a head!" This philippic was uttered with such a mirthful countenance the whole House roared with laughter, and a speedy reconciliation between the two friends followed, which, I believe, was never again interrupted. Mr. Randolph was what is termed an impracticable man. His temper depended a good deal on his state of health, and persons have often been astonished at the total change in his manner within twenty-four hours. One day, full of jokes, repartee and good-humour-the next, abstracted, morose and incommunicative. During our passage across the Atlantic he frequently expressed to me his deep regret that it was so, but he used to say that "when the fit was on him he could not break it." He was almost a constant sufferer from ill-health, was rarely two days without pain, and I, therefore, made great allowances for his infirmity of temper. The following anecdote will illustrate the uncertainty of his social qualities:-A gentleman was introduced to him one day at a dinner in Washington, when he was in a bright humour, and he found him irresistibly attractive. Mr. Randolph was very free and communicative, and the gentleman was quite delighted at having made his acquaintance. Next morning this same gentleman was on his way to the capitol, when he observed Mr. Randolph some distance ahead of him. He quickened his pace until he came up with him, when he exclaimed, puffing away for want of breath: "Good morning, Mr. Randolph; how do you do, sir." "Good morning, sir,” replied Randolph rather stiffly, and without stopping. "You walk very fast, sir," said the gentleman; "I have had great difficulty in overtaking you." “I'll increase the difficulty, sir,” replied Randolph, and suiting the action to the word, he soon left his bewildered acquaintance far behind him. This, of course, was one of his morose days, and no doubt he made some satirical hits in the House on that morning, whatever may have been the subject of debate. He was once giving some good advice to a young relative, who was on the point of going to school for the first time, in the course of which he said to him: Now, my dear boy, if any of the other boys should ever strike you, before you return the blow, see if you cannot forgive him for the love of God; but take care that you do not mistake the love of God for the fear of the bigger boy." He formed so strong a personal friendship for one of the packet captains, with whom he crossed the Atlantic more than once, that he corresponded with him ever afterwards. I remember his once saying to me-" Sir, I esteem Captainmost highly. He is a self-made man-one of nature's noblemen, sir, and worthy of every success." This worthy cap. tain has been, for many years past, enjoying the “otium cum dignitate" in the country, esteemed by everybody who know him. His modesty would be shocked were I to mention his name, but I may be permitted to give some extracts from the numerous letters which he received from Mr. Randolph. The confidence and friendship which they pourtray were voluntarily proffered by Mr. Randolph, and they exhibit him in a very amiable light. Captain had no favours to bestow on him, beyond the personal attentions on board ship, which it was his pleasure as well as duty to give to every passenger. "WASHINGTON, April 7, 1826. "MY DEAR CAPTAIN :-The best news that I have heard for many a long day, is the safe arrival of your ship at her port of destination. Most heartily, my good friend, do I congratulate you and your family upon this event. It gives me pleasure to inform you that I have been the means of procuring you a passenger on the return voyage; and if I can make my arrangements to hit, I shall have the satisfaction of two-legged stock, on the eighth proximo. adding myself to the number of your outward-bound live "Keep, if you can, a birth for me; a state-room rather; so as not to disappoint yourself. In any event, you shall know about the first (not later than the third or fourth) faithful John, shall again confide themselves to the only whether or not your friend Randolph of Roanoke, and his captain of a ship that I have sailed with for the last five years that left me nothing to regret except that he was not rich enough to lay himself up, not in ordinary, but in an extraordinary good birth. "God willing, I shall write again in a few days. Meantime believe me to be, with the truest esteem and regard, "Your obliged and steadfast friend, J. R. of Roanoke." "WASHINGTON, April 27, 1826. "MY DEAR CAPTAIN-I begin to entertain some fears that the state of the business before the Senate will not permit me to leave this place in time to join you by the eighth. I therefore give you the earliest intelligence, that I may not turning away one passenger, perhaps two, for the expecta be the means of spoiling your market; in other words, of tion of one that may be found wanting at his post when called upon. I could easily get away by the eighth, I think, but that you know would be to miss your ship; and much as perience, and am determined not to cross the Atlantic with I like her by report, I like still more her commander by exany other this year. I had a beautiful young creature in my eye, (don't be alarmed,) to me a daughter, that I wished to take with me and show her the lovely scenery of England and Wales, and the sublime, natural objects that Switzergrained somebody that will not hear of it, so at least she land presents to the traveller's view. But there is a crosssays; but I wish that a young Romeo may not be, after all, at the bottom of it, instead of some old Capulet. My good friend, excuse my quoting Shakspeare to you, for if you do stage. Disappointed in the hoped-for fellow-passenger, I not read him, (as I hope you do,) you see him acted on the shall be less reluctant to stay until May, 1827, if it shall please the Author of all Good to spare us until then; when, if I am above ground, consider your state-room to be beEurope, and return with you (God willing) as I did before; spoke. As it is, if I can, I shall spend the summer in but if I can't be in New-York by the eighth, shall defer my voyage. It may seem presumptuous in me, who have just got one foot out of the grave, (I have just risen from a sick bed,) to talk of next year. But you know, my good friend, submit with as much resignation as the Pharisees and hired that we sailors (for I am not altogether a land-lubber) can preachers to His dispensations, who chasteneth us even as a father chasteneth his children. But enough of preaching. New-Bedford men have been omitted by the reporter as the "I am vexed that, in the report of my recent speech, the true whale-fishers. I would not mention Nantucket, because she seemed disposed to join the Hartford Convention men last war, and make a separate peace with John Bull. But the New-Bedford men I did name, and said, that to a New-Bedford man (and I named him and his ship) I was more indebted than to any man beyond the Patapsco river. "I have ordered a few articles round, which I trust will arrive in time for your ship. If I do not appear, when them you see, remember me; although, as they are eatables, I hope you will not see them as long as I trust that you will remember your fast friend, RANDOLPH of Roanoke." "WASHINGTON, December 30, 1826. "DEAR CAPTAIN :-Mr. C delivered me your kind message. Nothing has occurred to me since my landing in the United States, that has made a stronger and deeper impression upon my feelings, than your kind and affectionate conduct to me during my short stay in New-York. Be assured that I shall ever retain a due sense of your obliging deportment towards me, and that I shall watch the winds on the eighth of next month and for some time afterwards. "God send you a speedy and pleasant passage, and a safe and happy return to your family. This is the sincere and earnest prayer of your friend, RANDOLPH of Roanoke. "If my health does not get better, I shall try another voyage to Europe." "CASTERSVILLE, ON JAMES RIVER, April 30, 1828. "MY DEAR CAPTAIN: Just as I mounted my horse on Monday morning, at Washington, your truly welcome and friendly letter was put into my hands. I arrived here this evening a little before sunset, after a ride on horseback of thirty-five miles. Pretty well, you'll say, for a man whose lungs are bleeding, and with a church-yard cough,' which gives so much pleasure to some of your New-York editors of newspapers. But to me, a horse is what a ship is to you. (I am never so easy as when in the saddle.) Nevertheless, if a gentleman,' (we are all gentlemen now-a-days,) who received upwards of £300 sterling for me merely to hand it over, had not embezzled it by applying it to his own purposes, I should be a passenger with you on the eighth. I tried to raise the money by the sale of some property, that only twelve months ago I was teazed to part from, (lots and houses in Farmville, seventy miles above Petersburgh, on Appomatox river,) but could not last week get a bid for it. Such is the poverty, abject poverty and distress of this whole country. I have known land (part of it good wood land) sell for one dollar an acre, that, ten years ago, would have commanded ten dollars, and last year five or six. Four fine negroes sold for three hundred and fifty dollars, and so in proportion. But I must quit the wretched subject. My pay, as a member of Congress, is worth more than my best and most productive plantation, for which, a few years ago, I could have got eighty thousand dollars, exclusive of slaves and stock. I gave, a few years since, twenty-seven thousand dollars for an estate. It had not a house or a fence upon it. After putting it in fine order, I found that, so far from my making one per cent, or one-half or one-fourth of one per cent, it does not clear expenses by about seven hundred and fifty dollars per annum, over and above all the crops. Yet, I am to be taxed for the benefit of wool-spinners, &c., to destroy the whole navigating interest of the United States; and we find representatives from New-Bedford, and Cape Ann, and Marblehead, and Salem, and Newburyport, voting for this if they can throw the molasses overboard to lighten the ship Tariff. She is a pirate under a black flag. "If I had ten pounds to spare, I would order one of Roskill's best watches (without second hands) in a silver case; a hunting-watch I mean; but I am as poor as a rat. "I am glad the hams proved good. I ordered another barrel for Mr. --, but my stupid overseer, in answer to my reproof for not sending them, writes that he had sent the barrel of hams that I ordered.' The blockhead seems to think it impossible that I should order more than one. "And now, my dear captain and my gallant ship, farewell. Pleasant and prosperous gales attend you, and God send the good ship safe to her port of destination. John, who is with me, humbly offers his respects. "Once more, my good friend, fare thee well. Yours to the end of the chapter of life, which promises to be but a short one with me, JOHN RANDOLPH of Roanoke." In the year 1828, Mr. Randolph was so very ill he thought himself near his end, and his friends also were alarmed about him. In a letter which I received from him during that time, he says: "I am bleeding at the lungs, and see no company; do not converse with my friends under this roof, and am incapable of conversation or anything else, except riding on horseback. You would hardly recognize your old acquaintance in my ghostly visage. "Now spring returns, but not to me returns The vernal joy my better days have known; And all the joys of life with health are flown." He recovered, however, from this attack, and the next year (1829) he was elected a member of the convention, called together in Virginia, for the purpose of altering the constitution of that state. He was decidedly opposed to any changes, and more particularly to an extension of the elective franchise, and fought bravely, inch by inch, for the "old land marks," declaring that a constitution under which they had lived so happily for half a century, was good enough for him, and ought to be considered good enough for the next generation. Whilst the convention was still in session, I received the following letter from him: 66 "RICHMOND, November 27, 1829. Yesterday, I had the pleasure to receive your letter of the twenty-first, which reminds me that a former one has remained too long unanswered. In excuse, I may truly plead the wearisome nature of my present avocation. Age, disease, and worst of all, lassitude and langour, cause accumulate upon me. even my small correspondence, upon matters of business, to in the Enquirer,' one that I am ashamed to see, and which, "A very lame and crippled report of me has gone forth in justice as well as mercy to me, I hope my friends will not read. I have not had time to do justice to myself in that particular. lish friends, and when you write, I beg to be mentioned to "It gives me great pleasure to hear of our Irish and Engthem in terms of warm and grateful respect. I shall not fail to read the 'Collegians.' A 'County Limerick man' is, to me, a great recommendation. "Our situation here is irksome to the most painful deOld ultra federalists, now new ultra jacobins, are gree. tearing down all that is valuable and venerable in our institutions. Yours, faithfully, J. R. of R." Several inquiries, made lately, for the following verses, induce us to give them a place in the New Mirror. They may talk of love in a cottage, Of nature bewitchingly simple, And milkmaids half divine. They may talk of the pleasure of sleeping And a walk in the fields at morning, But give me a sly flirtation With a glass of pure old wine, True love is at home on a carpet, His wing is the fan of a lady, His foot's an invisible thing, CASSIUS |