CONTENTS. 142 CHAP. VII.-Containing the most horrible battle ever recorded in poetry or prose; with the admirable exploits of Peter the Headstrong . CHAP. VIII.-In which the author and the reader, while reposing after the battle, fall into a very grave discourse-after which is recorded the conduct of Peter Stuyvesant after his victory BOOK VII. 158 CONTAINING THE THIRD PART OF THE REIGN OF PETER THE HEADSTRONG-HIS TROUBLES WITH THE BRITISH NATION, AND THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE DUTCH DYNASTY. CHAP. I.-How Peter Stuyvesant relieved the sovereign people from the burthen of taking care of the nation -with sundry particulars of his conduct in time of peace 170 CHAP. II.-How Peter Stuyvesant was much molested by the Moss-troopers of the East, and the Giants of Merryland—and how a dark and horrid conspiracy was carried on in the British Cabinet against the prosperity of the Manhattoes CHAP. III.—Of Peter Stuyvesant's expedition into the East Country, showing that, though an old bird, he did not understand trap CHAP. IV.-How the people of New-Amsterdam were thrown into a great panic, by the news of a threatened invasion, and the manner in which they fortified themselves 185 195 208 CHAP. V.-Showing how the Grand Council of the NewNetherlands came to be miraculously gifted with long tongues. Together with a great triumph of Eco 213 nomy CHAP. VI.-In which the troubles of New-Amsterdam appear to thicken-Showing the bravery, in time of CONTENTS. peril, of a people who defend themselves by resolutions. 221 CHAP. VII.-Containing adoleful disaster of Antony the Trumpeter-And how Peter Stuyvesant, like a second Cromwell, suddenly dissolved a rump parliament 234 CHAP. VIII.-How Peter Stuyvesant defended the city of New-Amsterdam for several days, by dint of the strength of his head CHAP. IX.-Containing the dignified retirement, and mortal surrender of Peter the Headstrong 242 253 CHAP. X.-The author's reflection upon what has been said 262 BOOK I. CONTAINING THE FIRST PART OF THE REIGN OF PETER STUYVESANT AND HIS TROUBLES WITH THE AMPHYCTIONIC COUNCIL. CHAPTER I. In which the death of a great man is shown to be no very inconsolable matter of sorrow-and how Peter Stuyvesant acquired a great name from the uncommon strength of his head. To a profound philosopher, like myself, who am apt to see clear through a subject, where the penetration of ordinary people extends but half way, there is no fact more simple and manifest, than that the death of a great man is a matter of very little importance. Much as we may think of ourselves, and as much as we may 10 LOSS OF GREAT MEN LITTLE FELT. excite the empty plaudits of the million, it is certain that the greatest among us do actually fill but an exceeding small space in the world; and it is equally certain, that even that small space is quickly supplied when we leave it vacant. "Of what consequence is it," said Pliny, "that individuals appear, or make their exit? the world is a theatre whose scenes and actors are continually changing." Never did philosopher speak more correctly, and I only wonder that so wise a remark could have existed so many ages, and mankind not have laid it more to heart. Sage follows on in the footsteps of sage; one hero just steps out of his triumphal car to make way for the hero who comes after him; and of the proudest monarch it is merely said, that-" he slept with his fatbers, and his successor reigned in his stead." The world, to tell the private truth, cares but little for their loss, and if left to itself would soon forget to grieve; and though a nation has often been figuratively drowned in tears on the death of a great man, yet it is ten chances to one if an individual tear has been shed on the occasion, excepting from the forlorn pen of some hungry author. It is the historian, the biographer, and the poet, who have the whole burden of grief to sustain; who-kind souls !-like undertakers in England, act the part of chief KIEFT'S 11. mourners who inflate a nation with sighs it never heaved, and deluge it with tears it never dreamt of shedding. Thus, while the patriotic author is weeping and howling, in prose, in blank verse, and in rhyme, and collecting the drops of public sorrow into his volume, as into a lachrymal vase, it is more than probable his fellow citizens are eating and drinking, fiddling and dancing, as utterly ignorant of the bitter lamentations made in their name, as are those men of straw, John Doe and Richard Roe, of the plaintiffs for whom they are generously pleased on divers occasions to become sureties. The most glorious and praise-worthy hero that ever desolated nations, might have mouldered into oblivion among the rubbish of his own monument, did not some historian take him into favour, and benevolently transmit his name to posterity-and much as the valiant William Kieft worried, and bustled, and turmoiled, while he had the destinies of a whole colony in his hand, I question seriously, whether he will not be obliged to this authentic history for all his future celebrity. His exit occasioned no convulsion in the city of New-Amsterdam, or its vicinity: the earth trembled not, neither did any stars shoot from their spheres-the heavens were not shrouded in black, as poets would fain persuade us they |