and York-Town. But one who passes for having good sense, avowed to me, some time ago, that he would rather see a well-clad and active population, than the finest antique groups of naked fawns and satyrs, with a Lazeroni populace. And a thing that has raised great wonder in me, is this, that some of these fair-haired Dryads of the woods, have manners more polished than the shining beauties of your splendid court. Where they got it, or how they came by it, I know not; but on the chaste stem of native purity, they seem to have engrafted the richest fruits of foreign cultivation. And as the ladies in all civilised nations will, covertly, or openly, have the sway, I think these dangerous persons ought to be well watched; and I am not indisposed, my lord, to keep an eye upon them, provided I may be encouraged by your lordship's approbation. I shall not then regret the situation in which it has pleased the wisdom of his majesty's councils to have placed me, and I shall labor to the end of my life to make a suitable return. In this view, I think it right to mention, that the young ladies have imbibed French principles; some of them can express any sentiment, grave or gay, by a motion of the head; speak any language with their eyes, and tell an affecting story with the points of their toes -Those cotillions, my lord, are dargerous innovations. It is, for the reasons I have mentioned, extremely important, that Mr. Weld, and the Anacreontic Poet, should write down the American ladies. The kind and frank hospitality they received from these unsuspecting fair ones, has afforded them an opportunity of taking a noble revenge, worthy of their masters. And if the finest genius, like the fairest beauty, is to be selected for prostitution, MOORE is the man. But if this system of detraction be followed up, you will do well, my lord, to keep your Englishmen at home. They will be very liable, coming over with such notions, to be surprised-perhaps put in voluntary chains. It has already happened to more than one of my acquaintance, and may befal many more. There need come no more with toys from Birmingham.-There is one Langstaff here, that has done them mischief. He gives himself out for gouty, and sits writing in an elbow-chair. When the fit leaves him, he announces it in the newspapers, and appoints an hour for his visits: all doors are thrown open, and scouts sent out to watch for him. He runs about in a yellow coate; and in the course of the morning will have kissed the hand of every pretty lady in the town. it provokes me to see a little fellow lie in a lady's work-basket, and make laughing sport of grave men. And it makes me feel mortified, at my own growing corpulence, lest my bulk should be no recommendation in the eyes of the fair, whose favour is the chief object of my wishes; I shall therefore, before the evil grows worse, go immediately to press, be squeezed into the genteelest form I can, and then pay my respects to the ladies, and to your lordship.-Meantime I have the honor to be, Your Lordship's much obliged, Humble servant, WILLIAM SAMPSON? MATILDA MATILDA TONE. BY COUNSELLOR SAMPSON. THIS admirable woman is of a family which moves in the genteel. est circles of her country. Her name was Witherington. At sixteen years of age she made a match of love with Theobald Wolfe Tone, then a youthful student. This marriage produced a separation from her family, which only served to encrease the tender affections of her husband. He bestowed much time upon her education, and had the delicious pleasure of cultivating the most noble, refined and delicate of minds. "Content (to use his own words) with honorable poverty," they might be truly called a happy couple. But fortune, which delights in splendid victims, blasted their early joys. Mrs. Tone remained, at her husband's death, in Paris, with three young pledges of their love. The estimation in which Tone was held, and her own snerit, had attached to her interest many powerful friends. But, with the arts of intrigue, her noble mind could never be familiar, she retired from the notice of the world. The most elegant encomium ever pronounced on woman, was that which Lucien Buonaparte bestowed upon her, in recommending her case, and that of her children, to the attention of the French Councils. Her two sons, in right of their father, received into the national school of the Prytannee, and her charming daughter educated, in the midst of a dissipated city, with the purity of an angel, became the sweet companion and soother of the widowed mother. But she, like a fair blossom untimely nipped, bloomed at once, and faded. She died in the dawn of loveliness, and felt no pang in death but for sufferings of the mother she adored. Another child of promise soon fol. lowed, no less beloved, no less regretted; and Fate, not satisfied with so much cruelty, threatened to bereave her of her remaining comfort. It was to avert that last stroke of angry destiny, that she lately made a voyage to America-and, in the city of New-York, a Society of her affectionate countrymen seized upon the unexpected occasion, and presented her with the following tribute to the memory her husband, and her own virtues. of In pursuance of a resolution of the Hiber nian Provident Society of the City of New-York, a Committee waited on Mrs. Tone, on Saturday last-and, in the most respectful manner, presented her a MEDALLION, with an appropriate device and inscription; and to her son (a youth of sixteen) a SWORD-accompanied with the following ADDRESS: MADAM, WE are appointed by the Hibernian Provident Society of New-York, to embrace, the opportunity of your presence in this city, to express to you their profound respect to the character and memory of your late illustrious husband General Theobald Wolfe Tone, and their affectionate attachment to his Widow and Son. To many of our Society he was intimately known; by all of us he was ardently beloved: and while we look back with anguish on the frightful calamities of our time and country, we delight to dwell on his talents, his patriotism, his perseverance, and his dignity in misfortune. Accept, madam, a testimonial of their esteem, which can derive from the sincerity with which it is pretend to no value, but what it may offered. In some other country, perhaps, it may awaken the reflection, that wherever Irishmen dare to express the sentiments sentiments of their hearts, they celebrate the name and sufferings of TONE, with that melancholy enthusiasm which is characteristic of their national feelings, for the struggles and misfortunes of their HEROES. We are likewise desired to present a Sword to his youthful son and successor, with a lively hope, that it may one day in his hand, avenge the wrongs of his country. We are Madam, With the utmost respect, Your most humble servants, DAVID BRYSON, GEO. WHITE, WM. JS. MACNEVIN, THOS. ADDIS EMMET, GEORGE CUMING. October, 1, 1807. cution, exile, nor time, can obliterate the remembrance of those who have fallon, though ineffectually in the cause of our country. For your gift to my Son, take his Mother's thanks and his, while she tremblingly hopes that Fate may spare him, to prove himself not unworthy of his Father or his Friends. I have the honor to remain, MATILDA TONE. THE MEDALLION.* CATO, contemplating the immor. Committee. tality of the Soul; he is seated; one hand rests on the works of PLATo, the other on his sword. The allusion will be readily perceived by those who remember the fate To which Mrs. Tone returned the follow- of GENERAL TONE. ing answer. GENTLEMEN, THE sweetest consolation my heart can feel, I receive, in the proof you now give me, that my husband still lives in your affections and esteem; though, in the course of nine disastrous years, the numerous victims who have magnanimously suffered for the liberty of Ireland, might well confuse memory, and make selections difficult. I am proud of belonging to a nation, whose sons preserve, under every vicissi. tude of Fortune, a faithful attachment to their principles; and from whose firm and generous minds, neither perse MOTTO. Viatrix Causa Diis placuit, sed Victa INSCRIPTION. MODERN COOKERY. We Transcribe, from this Work, some Original Recipes. RECEIPT. I. HOW TO MAKE A MAJOR. TAKE from Society in a state of fermentation, some fellow whose, prominent audacity, and desperate character makes formidable in a Banditti let him have nothing to loose by confusion, and much to expect from his precedence in all villainy; invest him with absolute power against his old associates; make it his interest to betray, rob, and murder among them; call him the MAJOR, and let him still more confuse his character with that respectable military appellation, by wearing a species of uniform; let him afloat as a letter of Marque upon the people; let him be the Angel who is to ride in the whirlwind, and direct the storm of free quarters, robbery and murder; when when such measures become necessary in the state, to the preservation of order; make him the Grand Monarch of the mob, and allow him that, which we laugh at in the Pope, called personal infallibility; call him the Saviour of his country; let him delude his fancy, that he is not a great Prussian, because his conduct is not punished as it ought to be; give him the full persuasion that church and state could not exist without him, ler him be surrounded with chosen Informers, robbers and murderers, whom he shall hang or protect, ac cording to pleasure; let him consider his person more sacred than his Majesty's, and any affront or revilement of him, are aggravated species of high treason; let him exert all the ferocity of his character, enchanced and intoxicated by government sufferance, until the tranquillity of the times shall allow him a holiday, and shall sink her in his native contemptibility. Take a Nailor from Kevin-street, or a receiver of stolen goods from Barrack,street, dress him in regimentals. If any commotion happens, let him sally forth, and abuse and cut, and maim all before him, through enthusiasm of loyalty; let him cry ten pounds for a Papist's head, and under pretence of looking for pikes, let him go where there is gold or silver spoons, and seize them; let him commit a few murders i. e. legal murders, such as shooting men, digging potatoes, or thatching a cabin; let his name get up as a bloody Orange villain; let him be advanced to some low place under the Corporation in consideration of his zeal at floggings and executions; let him forget that Lord Camden and Mr. Cook are gone away, and that it is not 1798, and let him commit a murder, and let him be hanged, notwithstandClaudius and the Major insist upon his pardon; let him be buried with all the honors of Orange loyalty, and let all good Orangemen follow his example. - HOW TO MAKE A CUSTOM-HOUSE Take a Peer's bastard, a pimp to a Castle-hack, or any mean character in Society; let him get a place in the Custom-house; let him have all the appearance of independence, from dress, servants, and expensive living; let him assume a peculiar dignity and strut of conscious supe. riority; let him insult every one, that he can calculate will not kick him; let him know no one but high people like himself; let him talk much of low life and the common people, and their ignorance of their distance with gentlemen; let him have in his office Leech all that can come across him, rummage every wallet and trash bag for run goods, and shew his native mean character, by insolence and seizure: let him be called a great rascal behind his back, by every one who knows him; let him be found our in his robberies of the Revenue, and when his place is taken from him, let him go and beg, and let him ask for alms in vain, and when the Black Cart seizes, as counterband this old hardened seizer, let every one say I wish your honor a pleasant voyage to Channel Row. HOW TO MAKE A JUDGE OF Take the ugliest Lawyer that can be got; let him be as much unacquainted with shame as an attor ney; let him have much parrot eloquence, prate without brains; let him be irritable, peevish and spiteful; let him imagine himself a man of great ability and formidable to the views of govern ment ment ;. let him get into parliament; and let him sell his noise and nonsense to the best advantage; let him never care whether, government is wrong or right, but let him think that they are always wrong, whilst he wants his dinner; let him set up for a great bully or fighting man; let him set up for the city of Dublin, and let any one that likes, kick him when he is saucy; let him be a party-man in every sense of the word; and let that party be always considered right, that is in power; let him be eternally teizing government, with claims founded upon threats, rather than service done; let him write books and criticise them himself; let government make him a Judge of the Admiralty, and let him go to the Devil. DUBLIN GLOSSARY. [CONTINUED.] great credit, and then he fails, beg gars numbers, and retires to an estate in the country, which he purchases in a very short time after his misfortunes; and then he be. comes a loyal magistrate and a scourge to the poor. A Hard Honest Man.-These Epithets are never conjured into a title, but for some unjust fellow; who as an apology for exacting the ettermost farthing, palliates his cruelty, by insinuating that he does as he is willing to be done by, and that as he strips his Doctor to nakedness and famine, he does it from a principle of self-preservation, because he observes, he cannot pay what he owes (which he takes care is nothing), but by making every one pay him what they are in his debt; under this assumption, he is to the public eye a man of charity, member of all two farthings a-day benevolent societies, and extremely beautiful his expression or at another's expence; when he turns a famished family into the street for the rent of a room; he observes there is room in ChannelRow. When he arrests a man, and hears he is famishing, he speaks of gaol allowance and the necessity of making examples; he takes land over his poor neighbour's head, and sends his family upon the world; he has no feeting for the nakedness and hunger of his workmen, clips their wages, and if they complain, tells them they were born beggars, add they should die so; he is very punctual in his bills, till he gains FOR JUNE, 1810. A High Attorney.-An illiterate creature, who by dint of perseverance, cunning, meanness, and effrontery, wormed himself into the necessities of embarrassed weakminded people of property, and makes them his dependants. His style of living exceeds all profusion, his wife and daughters keep the first company, and precede distressed nobility; he is very high in his manners, that is, very insosolent to his inferiors, as he calls them; he takes some great nobleman's cause, and is remarkable for giving Burgundy and Champaign, and never paying small debts; he is very loyal, and enquires into the religion of his clerks, lest they should be Papists; has some reduced man of talents to conduct all his business, which he is too ignorant to manage, and takes care always to keep this man in difficulties, and frequently to damn his stupidity; never hires a clerk from his own country, for fear he'd tell that his mother was an old Papist, and N n starving |