perish, even before its smiles have touched a parent's heart, yet a parent's love marks with some honour the earth that covers it. "Tis the last tribute which the humblest pay to the most humble.

"Yet e'en those bones from insult to protect,

Some frail memorial still erected nigh;

With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd ;
Implores the passing tribute of a sigh."

"The stranger, who in days to come, shall visit our shore will exclaim, show me the statue of your WASHINGTON, that I may contemplate the majestick form that encompassed his mighty soul; that I may gaze upon those features once lighted with every virtue; and learn to love virtue as I behold them. Alas! there is no such statue. Lead me then, American, to the tomb your country has provided for her deliverer; to the everlasting monument she has erected to his fame. Alas! his country has not given him a tomb; she has erected no monument to his fame. His grave is in the bosom of his own soil, and the cedar, that was watered by his hand, is all that rests upon it. Tell me whence is this inhuman supineness? Is it envy, jealousy, or ingratitude? Or is it that, in the great struggle for power and place, every thing else is forgotten; every noble, generous, and national sentiment disregarded or despised? Whatever be the cause, the curse of ingratitude is upon us until it be removed." With the assertion in the last sentence of this eloquent passage, we cannot entirely agree. The name of Washington is engraven on a more solid monument than could be erected by the combined skill of Rome and Greece. It lives in the memory of a grateful people, and an admiring world. A vast territory released from the licentious dominion of court minions, and rising with rapid strides to the pinnacle of political eminence, a variety of jarring interests reconciled, and concentrated, an immense mass of discontented popula

tion reduced to the wisest scheme of polity that ever was devised, blooming plains instead of uncultivated wilds, the arts and science flourishing and the necessaries of life in abundance, instead of ignorance, rudeness and misery,these are the reflections which fill our minds when the name of Washington is pronounced. The metropolis of the nation, innumerable counties, villages, benevolent and political societies are dignified by his illustrious name. "Where," to adopt a quotation which is introduced by our authour, "where is Troy & Mycene, and Persepolis & Agrigentum ?” Their proud gates have been trodden under the feet of the conquerer and their walls have been scattered by the winds. Though the care of the antiquary may have snatched an arm of this goddess, or a legg of that hero, from the corroding hand of time, yet one line of Homer is worth all the contents of Herculaneum. It is here that we find not merely the features, but the minds of these distinguished men of former times. The time shall come when the column of Washington's fame will be inscribed in those permanent characters which defy the rage of war and the envy of time. In the meanwhile we are doing all that can be expected from a country which has as yet done little more than to provide the comforts of life. Every man, woman and child in America, can "tell the stranger where the hero is laid;" every tongue, that utters his name, with a few disgraceful and conspicuous exceptions, avows that "his country is grateful:" his "statue" may be seen in the capital of his native state, and there is scarcely a cabbin in the country which cannot exhibit some honest though humble memorial of him, who enabled its tenant to exclaim, this house is mine. At this moment, extensive arrangements have been made and are in active operation, to erect a splendid tribute of national gratitude to the father of his country. We allude to the monument about to be placed in this city, under the authority of the state.

But we fear this article has grown to an unwarrantable length. We hope our observations will attract many to the study of this oration. Though brief, it will be found to contain ample matter for the reflections of the liberal, the enlightened and the patriotick. The orator pleads the cause of his society with zeal and ingenuity. The instances which are quoted to exhibit the progress of the arts, though confined to the city of Philadelphia, for which a Philadelphian must be forgiven, and though not very conspicuous, are curious and interesting.

We cannot close the pamphlet, however without one quotation more. The writer is speaking of the patronage which the institution has received from the ladies, and he adverts, with not less justness and gallantry, than elegance, to the genral influence of the sex.

man.

"In the present state of society, woman is inseperably connected with every thing that civilizes, refines, and sublimates The barbarous days are now but dimly seen in the mist of distant ages, when she was considered and treated as the slave of an unfeeling master; born only to perpetuate his savage race, and indulge his grosser appetites. On many subjects of human knowledge her intellect has proved itself equal to the powers of man; and in some of the best properties of our nature she is much his superiour. The gardens of literature are now illumined with many a lamp trimmed by a female hand; and the arts of painting and engraving have softened under the tenderness of the female touch."

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ANECDOTES, &c.

RUSSIAN POETRY-Almost all civilized nations have recourse to poetry when any thing important occurs to them. The common people of Russia are not yet civilized, but of a raw and docile nature, and when they disapprove of their superiors, they do it without the bold coarseness of an Eng

lishman, or the covered malignity of a Frenchman. The following is a literal translation of a favourite allegory amongst the Russians in their last war against the Turks; intended to convey the highest compliment to Count Munich, and the most pointed reproach to Prince Gallitzin.

Then

"The Almighty was enjoying himself in sleep. A great noise was heard in the heavens, and the Almighty awoke. He called unto the angel Gabriel, and said, Gabriel, what noise is that? and Gabriel said the Turks and Russians are going to war.'' My beloved Russians—who commands them? Gabriel answered Count Munich.' the Almighty said, 'I am satisfied;' and he turned round and went to sleep. On a sudden a greater noise was heard in heaven, and God awoke and called the angel Gabriel, and said, what noise is that? and Gabriel said the Russians and the Turks are at war'-Oh! my beloved Russianswho now leads them to battle?' Prince Gallitzin.' Then. the Almighty said, give me my boots for I must go myself."

MR. DODDINGTON-Immediately after George (afterwards George Bubb Doddington) was appointed ambassador to the court of Madrid, he was lamenting to Chesterfield the unfortunate brevity of his name which he feared would render him contemptible in the estimation of the Spaniards, who were all attached to the custom of using many names, and these long and sounding. The peer quickly replied, "you may easily lengthen it-call yourself Silly-Bubb."

THE ABBE MAURY-When the celebrated Abbe Maury was dragged to the lamp iron by the infuriated zealots of Paris, who cried out a la lanterne, a la lanterne,--the Abbe seid "well, when you have lighted me on your lamp iron, do you think you will see the better for it?" The fellows who held him clapped their hands at his wit; and while they clapt the Abbe ran off.

POETRY.

Among the primary objects of this MISCELLANY, is to be ranked the duty of exciting and fostering the genius of the country. Whatever the pride or ignorance of foreigners may assert, the fact is indisputable that America can boast of a large share of those talents which contribute to the comforts of life and the embellishments of luxury. In poetry, it is true, we have done little the muse is yet unfledged, but, without vanity, we may hope that the time is not distant when she will shake her wings and dare a noble flight.

We assign a conspicuous place, in this department, to the following verses, both from a fondness of their authour and a desire to do him justice. An incorrect copy, without his approbation, has been travelling the rounds of our publick journals for some time past. For the following copy, we are indebted to a friend who has permitted us to transcribe it from an original.

It cannot, certainly, be said that artless numbers flow unstudied from the pen of our juvenile poet: but it is sufficiently evident that the visions of Fancy have gilded his slumbers and that his pencil pourtrays the tints of Imagination in colours which Taste will not disdain.

PUZZLE.

FATIGU'D and restless on my bed

I languish'd for the dawn of morrow,
Till slumber sooth'd my aching head
And lull'd in fairy dreams my sorrow.

I seem'd in that serene retreat,*

Which smiles in spite of stormy weather;
Where flow'rs and virtues clustering meet,
And cheeks and roses blush together.

* Alluding to a delightful country seat, the residence of the subject of these verses.