tion. But I thought I could discern new scenes which had not yet flashed upon the imagination, novel subjects of disquisition which had never employed the pen of authors in the eastern hemisphere. It is also highly reasonable, that this country, a combination of extravasated portions from all the nations of Europe, contains very original and eccentric characters. Such then, are my reasons for writing. A youthful author is naturally diffident, on appearing before the criticising eye of the public; therefore, the brilliant, yet nervous luxuriance of Burke, the sublime, the solemn energy of Dr. Johnson, or the matchless elegance of Addison, is not to be expected. Nor does the author, though gifted with much of that ardent ambition, which distinguishes youth, ever expect to soar so high: if he can afford some variety to the sameness of a dull hour, his intention is fulfilled; whether his means are adequate to those ends, the world must determine.

The pleasure which a tasteful garden affords, every admirer of nature has experienced. The regular insipidity of a common garden, I would not here be supposed to advocate. No! the great irregular wildness or the sweet simplicity of nature is also my garden. Whether she present the proud sublimity of the "cloud capt" mountain, over savage rocks the hoarse dashing of the cataract, or the mazy wanderings of some sweet stream, now "lost in shade, now shining in the sun." These are scenes which ever delight me, which have ever pleased the world; for how long have we listened to the same rural themes though sung by different poets, with apparent ecstasy.

The analogy which a garden bears to the world, and to literature, is in some instances obvious. How often do we see flowers glittering in all the splendour of colour, whose real worth is trifling, when minutely examined. How often do we see pride dressed in the most gaudy magnificence; sustained by immense riches, and commanding the respect of the world; yet how little valuable would we find an analyzation. We discover plants, though possessing a very disgusting appearance, yet containing medical or alimentary qualities highly beneficial to mankind. Frequently persons whose outward forms are of the coarsest mould, and who are dressed in the

roughest habit, possess those great requisites of genius, ardency of fancy, and majesty of soul. Spots of land which possess the most desolate appearance, when they experience the care of the discerning gardener, are soon clothed with all the luxuriance of vegetation; so the darkest subjects when illuminated by the piercing soul of genius, dart on the mind with the greatest truth and lustre. Having thus traced some similarity between my title, and the world, I here enter on my new situation, as a gardener of literature.

My garden is my scene of reflection, and of rational amusement. If I wish to indulge myself in that pleasing melancholy, which is sometimes so grateful to the imagination, I repair to my garden; when the brilliant west glows in the setting sun, or more beautiful, when the purple tints of evening linger in the darkening vale. Here to view the rose, which, in the morning bloomed with all the freshness of a virgin, now faded, all that beauty fled. Who has not observed persons in the bloom of youth, with talents that would render them worthy of any situation, involved in the giddy vortex of dissipation; there whirled from folly to vice, with such rapidity, that they are soon rendered callous to every sensation of virtue or honor, and end in torment a despicable life. Others, like the modest violet, depressed by the cold hand of poverty, or scorn of pride, fly with pleasure from an unhappy world; yes, doubly miserable to the exquisite feelings of neglected talents. Such thoughts as these always humble my pride, they teach me the vanity of human expectations, and learn me to consider as a fairy dream, the hope that real happiness is to be found in the present world.

It is not to be expected, that such a youthful cultivator of literature, should present a perfect garden; but if I should collect a chaplet, that will afford any pleasure to my readers, I shall expect the praises due. After the manner of the World No. 1, I hereby declare no person shall be called witty, who calls my garden a dull garden, a tasteless, a gloomy garden, a weedy garden, &c.

I am

TYRO.

THE PLANETARY SYSTEM OF THE HEART.

BY AUGUSTUS VON KOTZEBUE.

A STUDIOUS astronomer was taking great pains to instruct a lady in the system of Descartes, according to which, the groups of heavenly bodies consist only of vortices, and those bodies are mutually attracted by nothing but vortices. "My head turns round already," said the fair scholar. "Whether this system is

· adapted to the heavens, I have not the least desire to know, but I am pleased with it, because in the same manner you may explain the system of the human heart, and that is my world." The astronomer looked at her with astonishment. He had studied the heavens a great deal, but he knew nothing at all concerning the human heart.

"Hear," continued the lady, "how I represent the matter to myself. Every person is such a Cartesian vortex. We constantly require an æther to float in; this æther is Vanity, as the fundamental principle of all our motions; the Heart, the centre of the vortex, is the sun around which the Passions revolve as planets. Each planet has its moons; round Love, for instance, revolves Jealousy. They mutually illumine each other by reflexion; but all their light is borrowed from the heart, whose second planet, Ambition, is not so near to it as love, and therefore receives from it a less degree of warmth. Ambition has likewise its moons, many of which shine extremely bright; for instance, Bravery, Magnanimity; while others reflect but a dismal light, as Haughtiness, Arrogance, Flattery. The largest planet in this system, the Jupiter of the human heart, is Selfinterest, which has numberless satellites. Reason has also a little corner; she is our Saturn, who steals away thirty years before we can perceive that she has made one revolution. The comets in my system are no other than, Meditations, Reflections; which, after many aberrations, get, in a short time, into the vortex of the passions. Experience has taught us, that they have neither a pernicious nor a beneficial influence; they excite in us a little fear, and that is all: the vortex continues its course as before."

The astronomer smiled with open mouth, like one who does not comprehend a thing, but out of politeness, raises no objections to it. "I proceed a little farther still," continued the lady. "That involuntary sentiment, denominated Sympathy, I compare to the power by which the magnet attracts iron. Both are inexplicable. The solar spots may probably be the effects of age, when the warmth of the heart gradually decreases; for who can answer for it that our sun will not be by degrees extinguished? Then will the universe be as dark and cold as the heart of an old man or a conqueror. The thought is enough

to chill one. Farewell!"

The lady skipped away to forget, in the vortex of a sprightly dance, the whole system of Descartes. The astronomer looked after her, shaking his head, and compared her to a shooting

star.

AMERICAN SCENERY-FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

BURLINGTON BAY,

ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN.

THIS bay has its name from the town of Burlington, in Chittendon county, Vermont, where, in the year 1791, a university was established by the legislature of that state.

Among the numerous interesting views which this noble lake offers to the admirer of nature, few surpass the present, in picturesque effect, particularly on one of those days of rural serenity and repose, when the smooth expanse of waters, studded with islands, reflects the tranquil sublimity of the blue sky and surrounding mountains; while the white sails of the various vessels that float lazily on its bosom, give additional grandeur and novelty to the scene.

Lake Champlain is more than 200 miles in length, is of very irregular breadth, from one to seventeen miles; and is said to occupy an extent of five hundred thousand acres. It is abundantly stored with fish; and contains more than 60 islands of various dimensions.

FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

REMONSTRANCE OF THE DOGS OF PHILADELPHIA.

To the Honourable the Corporation of the City of Philadelphia, the humble remonstrance of the Dogs of the said City, Sheweth

That they have seen with surprise and distress a law for killing all such Dogs as are not provided with collars after the 10th instant, in order to prevent their biting the Citizens of Philadelphia, and thus bringing on a fatal disease. Your memorialists are sorry to complain of the injustice of this law, inasmuch as its objects are a part of one class of animals only, while a part of several more numerous classes of animals equally, or more disposed to bite, are wholly overlooked in the law, and still suffered to roam at large in the city with impunity. These are, 1st, a certain class of traders in goods of all kinds, and particularly in public stock, whose bites are often as destructive to the interests of the Citizens of Philadelphia, as our bites are to their lives.

2. There are certain members of the learned professions, who live by biting all those persons who are dependant upon them. These are those ministers of the gospel, who bite their parishioners, with indifferent sermons; and who neglect to return in visits and private instructions, to their congregations a compensation for the salaries they receive from them; also those lawyers who bite their Clients out of large fees for trifling services, or for neglecting and postponing their suits; and lastly, those physicians who not only bite their patients with large bills, but who bite one another, not as we do upon the hands and legs openly, but slily and secretly upon their backs. The diseases induced by all these different kinds of bites are often of a serious and destructive nature, and call for the interference of laws to prevent and punish them. Your memorialists, therefore, humbly pray that all the classes of persons before mentioned, may be killed, or obliged to wear collars, in order to defend them from the resentment of the public; and thus by an act of equal justice,