perdition-now that you sit in Philadelphia, the nominal governor of Pennsylvania, give me leave to address a few words of truth to your corrupted heart. Retire for a moment from the avocations and honors of your new superintendency, and review the steps by which you have mounted the stage of power-steps reeking with the blood of your innocent country.

When the storm was gathering dark and dreary over this devoted country, when America stood in need of all the exertions which her best patriots and most confidential citizens could make, you stepped forward— you offered yourself a candidate, and, with unwearied diligence, solicited a seat in the American congress. Your seeming sincerity and your loud complaints against the unjust usurpations of the British legislature gained the confidence of your country. You were elected; you took your seat in Congress and let posterity remember that while you were vehemently declaiming in that venerable senate against British tyranny, and with hypocritical zeal urging a noble stand in behalf of the liberties of your country, you were at the same time betraying their secrets, ridiculing their economy, and making sport of their conduct, in private letters to your friend Governor * * * * * * *.

But your abilities were not equal to your treachery. Your character became suspected. You were left out of the delegation, and fearing the just resentment of your injured country, you took refuge under the banners of General Howe. You well knew that professions alone would not recommend you to his notice; actual services must be rendered to raise you above the neglect, and even contempt of your new patron. The general, knowing your conduct to have been such as to render all reconciliation with your country impossible, and thinking that, from your knowledge of the people he meant to ruin, you might be a useful tool in his hands, took you into his service. You found it no hard task to come into his views; to banish every virtuous sensibility, and even steel your heart against the cries of suffering humanity, and wade through the blood of your fellow-citizens to your promised reward. Is there a curse denounced against villany that hangs not over your head? It was owing to your poisonous influence that took part against his country's cause, and involved his family in misery and distress. Let their misfortunes sit heavy on your soul! It was owing to your seductions that a hopeful young man was cut off with infamy in the prime and vigor of life. Let the blood of Molesworth sit heavy on your soul! You attended the British army from the Head of Elk to the city of Philadelphia-you rode in the rear of that army in your triumphant carriage you feasted your eyes with scenes of desolation-the cries of ruined families, and the curses of the distressed, composed the music of your march, and your horses' hoofs were wet with the blood of your

slaughtered countrymen and former friends. Is there a curse denounced against villany that hangs not over your head? Let these things sit heavy on your soul!

But you are now in the seat of power in the city of Philadelphia. The glow of gratified ambition burns on your cheek, whilst, like a bashaw of the East, you order this or that fellow-citizen to prison and punishment. You sit down daily to a board spread with more than plenty, and know, with unconcern, that numbers of your countrymen, even some of your former acquaintance, are suffering all the lingering anguish of absolute famine in the jails of the city, within your reach within your power to relieve. You well know that under the discipline of that arch-fiend, Cunningham, they have plucked the weeds of the earth for food, and expired with the unchewed grass in their mouths-yet you pity not the misery to which you have your self been instrumental, nor will you suffer their torture to touch your heart. Oh! let this, too, sit heavy on your soul!

The time is at hand when the army on which you build your support must withdraw, and abandon their vain attempt. When this shall happen, then fly-fly to England, for you will not be safe here. Your life

and estate are both forfeited—and both will be but a poor atonement for the wrongs you have done. Fly to England, and if you should find yourself despised and neglected there, as will most probably be the case, for the English hate a traitor even though they benefit by the treason then fly thence with the monster Cunningham, to the barren desert, and herd with hungry beasts of prey.

The temporary reward of iniquity you now hold will soon shrink from your grasp; and the favor of him on whom you now depend will cease when your capacity to render the necessary services shall cease. This you know, and the reflection must even now throw a gloom of horror over your enjoyments, which the glittering tinsel of your new superintendency cannot illumine. Look back, and all is guilt-look forward, and all is dread! When the history of the present times shall be recorded, the names of Galloway and Cunningham will not be omitted ; and posterity will wonder at the extreme obduracy of which the human heart is capable, and at the unmeasurable difference between a traitor and a Washington.

THE WASP.

[From the Same.]

WRAPT in Aurelian filth and slime,

An infant wasp neglected lay;

Till, having dozed the destined time,
He woke and struggled into day.

Proud of his venom-bag and sting,
And big with self-approved worth:
“Mankind,” he said, and stretched his wing,
"Should tremble when I sally forth.

"In copious streams my spleen shall flow,
And satire all her purses drain;
A critic born, the world shall know
I carry not a sting in vain."

This said, from native cell of clay,
Elate he rose in airy flight;
Thence to the city changed his way,
And on a steeple chanced to light.

"Ye gods!" he cried, "What horrid pile
Presumes to rear its head so high?

This clumsy cornice-see how ́vile:
Can this delight a critic's eye?"

With poisonous sting he strove to wound
The substance firm, but strove in vain;

Surprised he sees it stands its ground,

Nor starts through fear, nor writhes with pain.

Away the enraged insect flew;

But soon with aggravated power,
Against the walls his body threw,
And hoped to shake the lofty tower.

Firm fixed it stands, as stand it must,
Nor heeds the wasp's unpitied fall:
The humbled critic rolls in dust,

So stunned, so bruised, he scarce can crawl.

Ethan Allen.

BORN in Litchfield, Conn., 1737. DIED at Burlington, Vt., 1789.

THE CAPTURE OF TICONDEROGA.

[From Allen's Narrative of Captivity, first published in 1779, and quoted in Le Puy's "Ethan Allen."]

VER since I arrived at the state of manhood, and acquainted my

self with the general history of mankind, I have felt a sincere passion for liberty. The history of nations, doomed to perpetual slavery, in consequence of yielding up to tyrants their natural-born liberties, I read with a sort of philosophical horror; so that the first systematical and bloody attempt, at Lexington, to enslave America, thoroughly electrified my mind, and fully determined me to take part with my country. And, while I was wishing for an opportunity to signalize myself in its behalf, directions were privately sent to me from the then colony (now State) of Connecticut, to raise the Green-Mountain Boys, and, if possible, with them to surprise and take the fortress of Ticonderoga. This enterprise I cheerfully undertook; and, after first guarding all the several passes that led thither, to cut off all intelligence between the garrison and the country, made a forced march from Bennington, and arrived at the lake opposite to Ticonderoga, on the evening of the ninth day of May, 1775, with two hundred and thirty valiant Green-Mountain Boys; and it was with the utmost difficulty that I procured boats to cross the lake. However, I landed eighty-three men near the garrison, and sent the boats back for the rear guard, commanded by Col. Seth Warner; but the day began to dawn, and I found myself under the necessity to attack the fort, before the rear could cross the lake; and, as it was viewed hazardous, I harangued the officers and soldiers in the manner following:

"Friends and fellow-soldiers, You have, for a number of years past been a scourge and terror to arbitrary power. Your valor has been famed abroad, and acknowledged, as appears by the advice and orders to me, from the General Assembly of Connecticut, to surprise and take the garrison now before us. I now propose to advance before you, and, in person, conduct you through the wicket-gate; for we must this morning either quit our pretensions to valor, or possess ourselves of this fortress in a few minutes; and, inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt, which none but the bravest of men dare undertake, I do not urge it on any contrary to his will. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise your firelocks."

The men being, at this time, drawn up in three ranks, each poised his

firelock. I ordered them to face to the right, and, at the head of the centre-file, marched them immediately to the wicket-gate aforesaid, where I found a sentry posted, who instantly snapped his fusee at me; I ran immediately toward him, and he retreated through the covered way into the parade within the garrison, gave a halloo, and ran under a bombproof. My party, who followed me into the fort, I formed on the parade in such a manner as to face the two barracks which faced each other.

The garrison being asleep, except the sentries, we gave three huzzas which greatly surprised them. One of the sentries made a pass at one of my officers with a charged bayonet, and slightly wounded him. My first thought was to kill him with my sword; but, in an instant, I altered the design and fury of the blow to a slight cut on the side of the head, upon which he dropped his gun, and asked quarter, which I readily granted him, and demanded of him the place where the commanding officer kept; he showed me a pair of stairs in the front of a barrack, on the west part of the garrison, which led up to a second story in said barrack, to which I immediately repaired, and ordered the commander, Capt. De la Place, to come forth instantly, or I would sacrifice the whole garrison; at which the Captain came immediately to the door, with his breeches in his hand; when I ordered him to deliver me the fort instantly; he asked me by what authority I demanded it: I answered him, "In the name of the great Jehovah, and the Continental Congress." The authority of the Congress being very little known at that time, he began to speak again; but I interrupted him, and with my drawn sword over his head, again demanded an immediate surrender of the garrison; with which he then complied, and ordered his men to be forthwith paraded without arms, as he had given up the garrison. In the mean time some of my officers had given orders, and in consequence thereof, sundry of the barrack doors were beat down, and about one-third of the garrison imprisoned, which consisted of the said commander, a Lieut. Feltham, a conductor of artillery, a gunner, two sergeants, and forty-four rank and file; about one hundred pieces of cannon, one thirteen-inch mortar, and a number of swivels. This surprise was carried into execution in the gray of the morning of the tenth of May, 1775. The sun seemed to rise that morning with a superior lustre; and Ticonderoga and its dependencies smiled to its conquerors, who tossed about the flowing bowl, and wished success to Congress, and the liberty and freedom of America.