States are irrevocably committed, "hip, hip, hurraed," among mellow Anglo Saxons, or rudely sneered at in ill-tempered and offensive diplomatic correspondence, by a hair-brained subordinate. But the facts presented require a graver consideration. The first is, that Sir Henry Bulwer, while feasted at Washington, and followed for the tie of his cravat, and the cut of his coat-skirts, and lionized as the pink of chivalry and gentility, coolly sat to his desk, and in a confidential communication to his man-of-all-work, insulted and betrayed the men he had either cajoled or seduced. "I am sure of the government," he says, " but they are weak, and if you proceed too openly, they would be unable to resist the sentiment of the country; therefore, be false and fawning, but sure of hold."

In this version of the famous epistle, we may have made the insult and the treachery more apparent and palpable. But we have not in the least changed their character. That they are there, unmistakable and emphatical, no rational man will deny. The question then is, did Sir Henry write the letter, or did he not? It has been whispered he did not; and when interrogated, he is said to have answered by another interrogatory-is it possible that I could be suspected of anything so extravagant? So exactly said Mrs. Manning to her accomplice, when discussing the meditated murder of her paramour-" Who would ever suspect us of a crime so awful?" If our memory serve us faithfully, we think we have read in the writings of the diplomatist's accomplished brother, something like the same sentiment. 66 'Villains, upon system, regard the enormity of a crime as one of their greatest safeguards." Even if the novelist did not immortalize this sentiment, it is nevertheless true; and it must have been present to Sir Henry's mind, if the thought occurred to him, that his letter would be detected and exposed. That he did write the letter, therefore, is as indisputable, notwithstanding such denial, as that it is insulting and treasonable-treasonable towards those whose infidelity to their own trusts he reveals. What they did in respect to this; what explanations they demanded and received; it is fit, and it is time, the Senate, the House, and the public should know.

The next fact is the Clayton treaty.

That it was mutually ratified everybody knows. That it contained the following stipulation, ever body knows:

"Article I. The governments of the United States and Great Britain hereby declare, that neither the one nor the other will ever colonize or occupy, or assume or exercise any dominion over Nicaragua, Costa Rica, the Mosquito coast, or any part of Central America; nor will either make use of any protection which either affords, or may afford, or any alliance which either has, or may have, to or with any state or people, for the purpose of occupying or colonizing Nicara gua, Costa Rica, or the Mosquito coast, or any part of Central America, or of assuming or exercising dominion over the same."

That the express and well-understood meaning of this stipulation was, that Great Britain should neither take nor keep, either in her own or any other person's name, one foot of land in Central America; everybody knows, also-Mr. Clayton has proclaimed this in the most positive and distinct terms.

That Fred. Chatfield has the entire sanction of his government in openrepudiating the treaty, and making demands inconsistent with its letter

and spirit, and most obvious meaning, everybody, who is not a knave or an idiot, must admit.

That the United States negotiated a treaty with Nicaragua, distinctly guaranteeing to protect the proposed route of the canal, perfectly recognizing the rights of Nicaragua over and to the precise territory now indicated in the Chatfield protocol, as that which her majesty the queen is prepared to assert Sambo's title to, everybody well knows.

What England means to do, and is openly doing, then, is this:

First-To repudiate and abjure the stipulations to which she had set her hand and seal-She said in the treaty, "I will not colonize the Mosquito coast." I will not make use of my protectorate or alliance with any person which I have or may have, to colonize the Mosquito coast. She says now, through her official, "I am prepared to assert such and such a boundary, in the name of the Mosquito King, on the said Mosquito coast."

And Secondly-To compel this republic to sneak out of her obligations to Nicaragua, and become false as herself "It is obvious there can be no canal unless you agree to my terms," says Fred. Chatfield, in the name of his queen.

Out of this position there is no snivelling. Hems and haws, and patience and oiliness, will not avail. There stand the States, in the face of the world, pledged to an undertaking, which they cannot repudiate without perjury, or shrink from without cowardice. This will, perhaps, be called bluster. Be it so. When a man is met on the highway, and called a cut-throat and a coward,-when he is told that he must eat his own promise, and the friend, to whom he made that promise, is knocked down and stamped on in his presence, he does not usually measure his phrases or polish his indignation, unless, indeed, he is a goose-livered craven. We do not yet admit that it has come to this with our country. There may be, and there are, quaking drivellers, whose highest ambition it is to imitate well-bred and fashionable deceivers, who think there is no merit in any but a tortuous course, and true English only in ambiguous language. They do not represent America. They belie and scandalize her real sentiments. In this instance she has waited and borne as far as it was becoming in her to do. Her government was her guarantee that she would suffer no dishonor. She afforded to it her unhesitating confidence, in the face of facts of the most startling kind. These facts now assume a complexion which would render further indifference perilous, if not criminal; and the country turns, with unanimous accord, to the Senate, in the hope that it will step between it and disgrace. The majority of that august assembly are bound to interfere by association, by conviction, and by hope. They are bound to insist on distinct and full explanations. It is in such a crisis the Constitution intended their patriotism should be invoked; it is in such a crisis the people, whose trustees they are, should demand that they shield them from infamy. Their time has come; it may pass from them, and pass for ever.

THE DUTY OF A BIOGRAPHER.

THE hope of immortality is the sustaining principle which animates the Christian. For a glorious future, in an unknown and uncertain blissful region, the wisest and best of men have willingly and gladly sacrificed comforts, pleasures, honors, and even life itself. It is this belief that has nerved the arm of the Mahometan, stifled the dying groans of the Hindoo, sustained the persecuted Hebrews, amid the multitude of calamities that have been showered upon them, and comforted the martyr at the stake.

But a far inferior motive will not, unfrequently, produce a train of equally difficult actions, alike requiring all the energy of body, and the strength of purpose, which characterize those before mentioned. Those whose aim is a glorious immortality, are few in number; for the steps that lead thereunto, are not over the prostrate bodies of opposing enemies; but every tread crushes some selfishness, personal indulgence, criminal or vain appetite.

They are the avenues that lead to the Temple of Fame that we see crowded with such restless, striving multitudes, each endeavoring, by any means, to surpass his neighbor, and thus make of life a mean, contemptible, constant strife of bitterness, envy and despair. Still content, if not reaching the certain goal during the career of life, with the hope of a niche and an obituary.

"To blaze with guilty glare thro' future time,
Eternal beacons of consummate crime."

The object of history is twofold. First, to give an accurate account of past events, and secondly, to hold up the lofty deeds and high endeavors of those who have gone before, for the commendation of the world, and as an example for all to imitate, and strive to attain. Truthfulness is, therefore, indispensable. The writer cannot, in justice to himself, or his subject, commence his task with preconceived views or opinions, which he is anxious to maintain, and to do which, a vitiated judgment, or a fraudulent wilfulness will warp facts to his desires.

That portion of history which is denominated biography, has particular claims upon the historian, and truth here is but a matter of honesty, for it is often the sole reward which the unfortunate subject may receive for all his trials and sufferings, as it is, also, occasionally, the only punishment for intentional error and well-guarded vice. It was for this "bubble reputation," that he endured even unto the end, and now to rob him of this, is far more grievous than the sin of the pickpocket.

But no man liveth for himself alone. His name, his deeds, and the results that he has effected-the steps by which he rose to eminence, or descended to infamy, are the world's. His life is a lesson to mankind, and futurity may play over the game which he lived; see where the mismove was made, and learning by his experience, shun similar errors in their own conduct. The author has not, therefore, a moral right, from any partiality to the subject of his biography, either to conceal the deviations, or to put a false gloss upon the faults of one who belongs to the

world's history. It may be kindness on the part of the author, showing a warm heart. Amability is truly a pleasant trait, but the justice of inflexible Cato is far more praiseworthy.

The oft-repeated, "de mortuis nil, nisi bonum," has not only been the cause, or the apology, for very great falsehood, but has, also, done a vast amount of injury. The unworthy deeds of any distinguished individual should not be passed over in silence, but, on the contrary, should be the more sedulously pointed out and noticed, as errors that should be shunned. The more elevated the man, the more conspicuous are his actions; and when his character is held up as a pattern to youth, without reprobating his vices-they are, however unwittingly, virtually endorsed and approved. Were this more generally done, history would not only be more truthful, but more beneficial. How few biographies of those who are distinguished in the battle-field, in the forum, or in the pulpit even, have that moral lesson drawn from them, which they are so capable of teaching! Who speaks, in other than most apologetic tones, of the sensualism of Nelson, Swift; who has said aught against the repeated falsehoods of Walter Scott, to conceal the facts of his authorship? And Burns' numerous faults are passed by, with scarce a mention.

Even now, just in our midst, is a memorable instance. The most gifted genius, in some respects, that America has produced, was picked up in a gutter, and died in a public hospital of delirium tremens, after a life, which, in every respect, in the commitment of every profligacy, was a war against the world, his own nature, and his God! A man, endued with the greatest gifts, personal beauty, and the highest mental powers, prostituting everything to the animal, to himself. And he died, as the fool dieth, without a friend-at least but one-without a virtue-without a single, solitary, redeeming trait of character. But his life, too, is written, with scarce a mention of his faults, or salved over with the epithet of frailties; and truth, and the lessons which should be drawn from them, are staved off, with "de mortuis nil, nisi bonum."

From the life of the gifted Campbell, one of those great minds that serve to render England illustrious, and whose words cling around the heart, and mount to the lips of the lover of the English tongue-whose eloquent thoughts cheer the soul of every one capable of receiving lofty impressions and incitements to duty-from the lips of this great poet, what lesson should we draw? Does his greatness render his known habits of intemperance unnoticeable? Or should we not rather point to the world the fault, which has ruined the greatest men of the world, and guard them against it? But the gloss of the biography has hidden the fault, and his convivial habits are examples of sin to coming time, which may be pardoned if the possessor but achieves sufficient greatness, and has a friend to write his memoirs.

We might say the same of the silver-tongued Elia. Ought it not to be said? At the present day, authors of celebrity are all around us. Praised and caressed by the world, their station is an object of emulation. Does not personal intercourse show, that but few are the same in public and in private-that they have two characters-are, perchance, most moral writers, (because that style alone pays,) but most profligate men? Should not biography give this twofold life? It is this peculiarity that renders Boswell's Johnson the greatest biography extant, and one that in its

truthfulness, as far as the Dr. himself is concerned, established it a model for future writers.

It is no wonder, in view of such circumstances, that it is written:

"That glory long has made the sages smile;

"Tis something, nothing, words, illusion, windDepending more upon the historian's style

Than on the name a person leaves behind."

These remarks have been prompted by the recent reading of several biographies and portrait sketches, among which may be enumerated Irving's Goldsmith, Macauley's History, Life of Southey by his son-inlaw, and Beattie's Life of Campbell.

Whatever feeling living authors may have for each other while living, it is true they have but little jealousy for the dead. The grave seems not only to wipe off the tradesman's account, and discharges the troublesome dun from his harrassing duty, but metamorphoses the querulous, envious backbiter into a strong defender and champion. The clanship of talent is tardy in its appearance. Nevertheless, it comes, and no clanship is more strenuous in its action. Burns, Byron and Goldsmith, who, while living, were the butt for the venom of malicious men, who certainly had an abundance of faults, and many glaring immoralities, which are deserving of strong reprobation, are now so over-whitened in their portraiture, that, could they behold themselves, they would imagine they were caricatured.

It was a matter of regret, in reading Irving's Life of Goldsmith, so beautifully told, so full of the true spirit of candor in most respects, that one finds this excellent specimen of what biography should be, marred by a premeditated design of the author to, not only excuse, but deny, the faults which belong to Goldsmith's character. So far as the author has put a correct light upon the ungenerous criticisms of Boswell, he did well. The detractions which this little mind conceived, should be corrected, but the ease with which the cobweb falsehood was swept away, seems to have emboldened the author to deny the existence of any faults in the character of his subject. That he had those of a serious nature, few deny. The ideas of meum and tuum were never implanted in his breast, and even in what was denominated his generosity, the neglect of an early, correct education, is manifest. When moved by a pitiful tale, told often with barefaced effrontery by some brazen wanton, thoughtless of the debts which he himself owed,-thoughtless that the money in his pocket was not his own-thoughtless, alike of the present and the future-untaught by the past-he emptied his purse with prodigal hand. But this is passed by as most excusable, because it was charity. Put yourself, dear reader, in the situation of Goldsmith's creditor, and ask what would be his opinion. His poor washerwoman, certainly, thought that charity should begin at home. Should such actions be applauded, and held up to be copied by youth? Then, too, his organs of vanity and ostentation were worthy of a prince. His debts, at death, were $10,000! A man without wife or family, with no losses from failures in business or of friends, and having a debt of such magnitude! All squandered in eating, drinking, rich clothing, and "generosities!"

By speaking of a man's good qualities, and few have none, in a becoming manner, and omitting all mention of his faults, a good reputation