Newspaper Page Text
POSTET.
We publish with especial pleasure, the annexed
tribute of one, himself rio uninspired poet^ to the
gifted Mrs. Hemans.—A*. Y. *3mer.
TO MRS. HEMANS —BT BERNARD BARTON.
Lady! if I for thee would twine
The Ivy wreath,—can feeling trace
No cause why, on a brow,like thine,
The Muse might filly pace
Its verdant foliage—“ Hirer sere, w
' Of glossy and of changeless hue ?
All! Yes—there is a cause most deaf
To Truth and Nature too.
It is not that it long hath been
Combined with thoughts of festal rite;
The cup which thou hast drank, I ween,
Not always sparkled bright!
Nor is it that it hath been twin’d
Round Victory’s brow in days gone by j
Such glory has no power to blind
Thy intellectual eye.
For thou can’st look beyond the hour,
Elated by the wine cup’s thrall;
Beyond the Victor’s proudest power,
Unto the end of all!
And therefore would I round thy brow
The deathless wreath of Ivy place ;
For well thy song has proved that thou
Art worthy of its grace.
'
captain, starting to his feet, ‘ did his Italian j once was your friend ! Will his blood atone J leon’s management, this anecdote. 44 As
friends forsake Otho in his hour of need 1 for your past si iffering 1 Will his eondemna- the dearth of bread and other causes of dis-
I
Had earth, and earth's delights alone,
Unto thv various strains giv’o birth,
Then had I o’er thy temples thrown
ff The fading flowers of earth
' *^»And trusting that e’en these, portray’d
\ By thee in song, would spotless be,
The jasmine’s, lily’s, harebell’s braid,
Should brightly bloom for thee.
But thou to more exalted themes
Hast nobly urg’d the Muses’ claim;
And other light before thee beams
Than Fahey’s meteor flame.
And fiom thy harp’s entrancing strings
Strains have proceeded more sublime
Than e’er were wakened T»y the things
Which appertain to Time!
Yes! Fc\’iale Minstrel! thon hast set,
Even tb the masters of the Lyre,
An eloquent example!—yet
How law have caught thy firel, •
How few of their most lofty lays
Have to Religion’s cause been given,
And taught the kindling sou! to raise
Its hopjis, its thoughts to heaven!
Yet this, ,at least, has been thy aim;
For thou “ hast chos’n that better part,”
Above the lure of worldly fame,
To touch—and teach the heart!
To touch it by no slight appeal
To feelings—in each heart contest; -
To teach hy truths that bear the seal
God hath himself imprest. . , .
And can those flowers, which bloom to fade,
For thee a tilting wreath appear?
No! wear thou, then, the Ivy braid,
Whoi^ leaves are never sere ! .
It is vtt gloomy—brightly play
The sunbeams on its glossy green;
tftly on it.alfepsYthe^ray
J^^aJlserfen^s^jU
It changes not as seasons flow
7
In changeful, silent course along;
Spring finds it verdant, leaves it t
It outlives Summer’s song. _
Autumn no wan or russet stain
Upon its fadeless glory flings,
And Winter o’er it sweeps in vain,
With tempest on his wings. ,
** Then wear thou this”—Thv Ivy CROwihy
And though the bard who twines it be <
Unworthy of thy just renown,
Sufth wreath is worthy thee.
For hcr*s it is, who, truly wise,
To Virtue’s cause her powers hath given;
Whose page the “ Gates of Hell ” defies,
And points to those of Heaven !
This repays the tyrant well for casting from
hint' true "hearts and brave hands !’ £ You
are a German,’ said the Emperor, fixing his
eagle eye on the pirate ; * what can you
know of Otho’s private councils?’—A fierce
light blazed in the dark eyes of the robber,
as he replied, 4 What do I not know of them?
you should have said Hear me, Sir Knight,
and then judge be' ween this accursed ty
rant and me!'—Te paused, covered his
face with his hanos, and appeared for some
time struggling with bitter reflections; then
continued, in a calmer tone, ‘ Stranger, you
see before you one of the noblest-descended
princes of the German empire, the unfortu
nate Philip of Cologne.’ The emperor
started—-a deadly paleness stole over his
countenance—his lip quivered, and his eyes
involuntarily sought the ground, as the pi
rate proceeded in his narrative.— 4 I served
(nv, first apprenticeship in arms under the
banner of Otho, and we reaped together im
mortal glory in many a field. In the war
with the Sarmatia, the regiments under my
command surprised one night the camp of
the enemy; we took much spoil, and made
many prisoners. Among the captives was
young and lovely female, the only daughter
of a man of rank, who, dying of his wounds,
committed her, with a father’s blessing, to
his victorious foe. Had I followed the first
generous impulse of my breast, I should
have restored the weeping damsel to her
friends and country; but my heart soon own
ed for the unprotected stranger a tenderer
passion. Our affection was mutual, and
she promised to become my bnde, when the
days appointed for the mourning for her
father were expired. In the interval, re
turning to Vienna, I was received with the
most flattering demonstrations of regard by
the treacherous Otho. But woe to him who
puts any trust in the faith of princes ! He
accidentally saw, and became deeply ena
mouredof my beautiful Sarmatian. His
passion knew no bounds, and cruelty sug
gested the most speedy method of satisfying
his wishes. Finding me determined never
to surrender my promised bride, he accused
me of treason, and suborned witnesses,
was tried by the circle of princes; they
dreaded the indignation of the Emperor,
and I was sentenced to a heavy fine and per
petual banishment. Rage, despair, and love,
were struggling ; n my breast; I gave myself
up to the fury that possessed me ; and, in
the bitterness of the moment, denounced
dreadful imprecations on the head of the man
who was the author of my sufferings. But the
measure of his crimes was not yet full.
Eudocia resisted his passion, and treated
the bribes ne offered her, with the contempt
they merited. Accusing her of magic, the
enraged and vindictive Emperor sent her,
under a strong escort, a prisoner to a dis
tant castle. Permitted to hid adieu to my
aged parents before 1 quitted orever my na
tive land, I had not been many hours beneath
the roof of my paternal castle before a friend
communicated to me the the tidings of Eu-
docia’s sentence and approaching imprison
ment. My first idea was- AaJiurprise the
escort, and win back my bride at the point
of the sword.—This resolve I -instantly car
ried into execution. I assembled rnyfriends
and vassals—I pointed out my injuries—I
urged them as men, and as cnmradaf
to assist me in rescuing /from
tion ensure your eternal welfare?’ The war- satisfaction, continued to produce commo
ner paused,—‘ By you, Philip of Cologne, tion in Paris, the general of the interior was
my voice was never before unheard,* resum- sometimes obliged to oppose them with the
ed the lovely woman, and whose disguise I military force.—On one occasion, it is said,
could no longer conceal, from the Emperor when Bonaparte was anxiously admonishing
the wife of the pirate—-‘ ever generous and the multitude to disperse, a very bulky wo-
noble even to your enemies, prove to thm man exhorted them to keep their ground,
unhappy prince how far virtue can triumph 4 Never mindthese coxcombs with the epau-
over the mean spirit of revenge.’—‘ Angel!’ lettes,* she satid, ‘ they donot care if we all
exclaimed the Emperor cease to plead ; starve, so they themselves feed and get fat.’
your supplications are to my wounded spirit
worse than tne pangs of death. May the
just God fhrgivft me for the ills I have
wrought!*—HV-covered his face with his
hands to conceal the agitation which was
visible in every feature; but, in despite of I
all his efforts to repel them, the bright drops
forced their wav through his clenched fin-
* Look at me, good woman,’ said Bonaparte,
who was then as thin as a shadow, ‘ and tell
me which is the fattest of us two.’ This
turned the laugh against the' amazon, and
the rabble dispersed in good humour.”
The follovring anecdote is probably fa
miliar to most of our readers :
“ A fine boy of ten, or twelve years old,
gers.—The pirate gazed on the conscience presented himself at the levee of the general
stricken prince, till the \vrath of his coun- of the interior, with a request of a* nature
tenance passed away, and the tears trembled unusually interesting. He stated his name
in his own fierce eyes. ‘ Live, he said, 4 Re- to be Eugene Beauharnois, son of the ci-de-
store these brave pien to their former rank yant viscompt de Beauharnois, who, adhe-
and fortune, and thjis degraded arm shall re- ring to the revolutionary party, had been a
instate you on the throne of your ancestors.’ general in the republican service upon the
‘ No returned the Emperor, 'mournfully, Rhine, and fulling under the causeless sus-
‘ I will not accept life at your hands. A picion of the committee of public safet y,was
self-condemned and guilty man. I will not delivered to the revolutionary tribunal, and
attempt to excuse crimes committed in the fell by its sentence just four days before the
lustofpower, in the heat of youthful passion, overthrow of Robespierre. Eugene was
‘ Has futurity then no terrors?’ said Philip, come to request of Bonaparte, as general of
‘ None to him who has made his peace | the interior, ithat his father’s sword might he
with Heaven,’ returned Otho, 4 who has of
fered at the shrine of mercy the humble sa
crifice of a broken heart.’
4 Has your repentance been deep enough
to rob the grave of its victory ?’
4 Your noble brother, who lies a corpse
in yonder wood, could best have resolved
you that question. Oh that his mailed breast
j restored to him. The prayer of the young
supplicant was as interesting as his manners
were engaging, and Napoleon felt so much
concerned in him, that he w as induced to
I cultivate the acquaintance of Eugene’s mo-
[ ther, afterwards the Empress Josephine.
44 When Madame Beauharnois and Gen.
Bonaparte became intimate, the latter as-
the second step, the two lions expanded
their claws. On his- reaching the third
step, the whole assembly of demons, and
fairies, and men, repeated the praises of the
Deity. When he arrived at the fourth step,
voices were heard addressing him in the
following manner:—‘‘-Son of David, be
thankful for the blessings the Almighty ha8
bestowed upon you:*** The same was re
peated on his reaching-the fifth step. On
his touching the sixth, alf the children of Is
rael joined them ; and on liis arrival at the
seventh, all the throne, birds, and animals,
became in motion, nnd ceased not until he
had placed himself in the royal seat, when
the birds, lions and other animals, by secret
springs, discharged a shower of the most
precious perfumes on the prophet; after
which, two of the kurgesses, descending,
placed a golden crown upon his head. Be
fore the throne was a column of burnished
gold, on the top of which was a golden dove,
which held in its beak a volume bound iir
silver. In this hook were written the Psalms
of David; and the dove having presented
the book to the king, he read aloud a por
tion of it to the children of Israel.—It is
further related, that on the approach of
wicked persons to this throne, the lions
were wont to set up a terrible roaring, and :
to lash their tails with violence; the birds
also began to bristle up their feathers, and
the assembly of demons and genii to utter
horrid cries ; so that for the fear of them 1
no person dared he guilty of falsehood, l>»\t
confessed their crime. Such was the throne
of Solomon the son of David.”
was my pillow ; that the hand, which vainly J sures us, and we see no reason to doubt him
defended him against a host of foes, were that although the lady was two or three
cold and stiff like his !’ The outlaw turned j years older than himself, yet being still in
away, deeply affected, while the Emperor the bloom of beauty, and extremely agreea-
eontinu»?jd— 4 To atone in some measure for ble in her manners, he was induced, solely
the wrongs I heaped'upon your head, I pas-1 by her_personal charms, to make an offer
sed an edict, recalling you to your country, of his hand, heart, and fortunes—little sup-
and restoring you to the honour:- of which I posing, of course, to what a pitch the latter
my cruel tyranny had deprived you. I or-[wereto arise.—Bonaparte was then in his
dered diligent search to be made, in every I twenty-sixth year: Josephine gave herself
realm, for the exiled prince of Cologne ; J in the marriage contract for twenty-eight,
but all my endeavours to discover the place j 44 They were married 9th March, 1796,
of your retreat .ployed fruitless ; I bestowed I and the dowry of the bride was the chief
on your lamented brother the favours I had J command of the Italian armies, a scene
in store,for you. At your feet l ask forgive- which opened a full career to the ambition
ness of the past, and demand the fulfilment J of the youthful General. Bonaparte remain-
of the just sentence your lips pronounced [ ed with his wife only three days after his
m arms,
destruction a lovely and unfortunate woman
OTHO OF GERMANY, AND THE PIRATE OF A,d * d b . y<be darkness of the night, we suc-
THE MEDITERRANEAN. 1 ceeded in our enterprise, leaving but one
[Concluded.] I man of the whole escort to return with the
The cavern was strongly illuminated with j tale. For that adventure the ban of the
torches, which gleamed on arms and tro- j empire was pronunced against me ; my
phies won from remote and barbarous na-1 name was erased from the list of princes
tions. The captain, however, motioned my banner was trampled under foot; and a
Otho to a seat at the lower end of the hoard, high reward was offered for my head. Pur-
and having seen him well supplied with re- sued from realm to realm, destitute of home
freshment. turned to a beautiful youth who or an abiding place, m y name became a bye
was seated at his right hand, bis.Tiead res- word, aproverb in the mouth of my enemies,
ting oh a small lute. With that youth he I The sea was before me: I had no other re
entered into earnest conversation, from time source : I joined myself to a band of brave
to time casting significant glances on Otho. j but desperate men, and became a pirate and
The Emperor encountered the full languish- J robber at the hands of Otho!’ The outlaw
ing blue eye of the stripl'ng, whose colour ceased, and again passed his trembling hand
mounted even to the snowy temples, which 1 over his brow.
against me.’
j marriage, hastened to see his family, who
He would have thrown himself at the pi-1 were still at Marseilles, and having enjoyed
rate’s feet; hut the chief received him in his I the pleasures of exhibiting himself as a fa-
arms ere his knee could touch the earth. I vorite of Fortune in the city wh ; ch he had
Deep silence for some minutes pervaded the | lately left in the capacity of an indigent ad-
assembly; till the hand, springing to their I venturer, proceeded rapidly to commence
feet, and brandishing aloft their weapons. I the career to which fate called him, by pla-
made. the cavern ring, with 4 Long live Otho Icing himself at the head of the Italian army.”
of (Germany! Long live Philip of Cologne!’ J The reviewer after giving Sir Walter’s ac-
The pirate, true to his promise, safely I count of the system of the conqueror, pro-
transported the F.mperor to the nearest Ger-1 ceeds—“ The Italian campaigns constitute
man port ; and the world soon forgot, in the J an epoch in the history of the art of war. They
commander in chief of her armies, and the I are sketched by Sir Walter with admirable
bulwark of her throne, the once dreaded I graphic power ; every movement and every
Hon of the Mediterranean! | battle are most skilfully traced and connect
ed : and as he has narrated them, they are
Napoleon.—The second number of the I adapted to impart the highest ideas of Bona
American Quarterly Review, published injparte’s talents as, a general and political
glittered with marble whiteness from among
the flaxen locks by which they were shaded.
He turned away his head and concealed his
confusion, and he had unconsciously fell
over the instrument: it emitted a tremulous
strain of melody, and the minstrel, as if gath
ering courage from the sound, sang a sim
ple air which served more forcibly to en
chain the attention of the Emperor. As if
4 And what, think you, the wretch de
serves, who could heap such aggravated
miseries on the head of a brave and inno
cent man ?” asked the Emperor, in a low
and hollow tone.
4 The fate he has doubtless met in the
field—disgrace, overthrow, and death!’ re
turned the pirate.
4 He lives to fulfil the latter part of your
Philadelphjb, contains among other interest- manager. The Duke of Wellington is said
yng articles, a‘Review/Of that part of Sir to have declared Yhat Sir Walter’s account
Walter Scott’s Life of Napoleon, 44 in which j of the battle of Waterloo was the best he
the mighty f conqueror is traced from his had seen, and v^onderfully faithful, not less
birth to his decisive triumph on the field of I thanjvividly picturesque, in most ofits details.
Marengo:”—we have been tempted to make J We cannot but think, that if Napoleon had
a few extracts. j lived to peruse this spirited relation of his
Of Napoleon, while a cadet in the Royal I first manouvres and success, he would have
Military School of Brienne, the reviewer, been nearly as well satisfied ns the hero of
following Sir Wafter Scott, says: 44 At the j Waterloo. All' credit is given to the supre
military school, the protege displayed un-1 macy of his youthful genius, the originality
common ardor and aptitude for the abstract J and felicity of his strokes, the brilliancy and
sciences, and made a progress in them to j magnitude of his triumphs : and to the per-
which the strongest testimony was borne in j sonal valour and presence of mind with
the official reports of the institution. His j which his evolutions and critical situations
habits were thane of a recluse and severe stu- as a commander were accompanied.”—Al~
dent; but in the languages, modem and J bany Gazette.
ancient, He was not at all conspicuous for his
proficiency. Our author asserts that he never I Curious Piece of Mechanism.—The fol-
acquiredtheartofwritingorspellingFrench.’l lowing account of a curious piece of me
After the fall of Robespierre, Bonaparte I chanism, is taken from a Persian manu
was superseded, and Sir Walter Scott says, I script,,entitled “The History of Jerusa-
“ In May, 1795, he came to Paris, to soli-j lem.” It is an account of. the throne of
cit employment in his profession. He fo nd | King Solomon, and we think, surpasses any
under the influence of magic, he gazed with sentence,’ replied the Emperor, rising and
intense interest on the dark browed chief, | approaching the outlaw. 4 Philip of Co-
beam,
and on the fair haired youth beside him.
My native land! my native land t
How many tender tins,
Cobnoeted thy distant strand, .
Call forth my heavy sighs.
The nigged rock—the mountain stream—
The hoary pine-tree’s shade;
Where, often in the noon-tide be
■ A hapjty child, I strayed !
X think of thee, when early light
Is trembling on the hill;
I think of thee at deep midnight,
When all is-dark and still >
I think of those whom I shall see
On the fair earth no more ;
And wish in vain for wings to flee
Back to thy ranch-loved shore.
logne ! do you remember this face ! Can
you recognise, in a nameless fugitive, your
ungenerous persecutor, Otho of Germany ?
Sheath in this breast your sword, and sate
your indignation on the author of your
1 wrongs.’—He threw his sword at the pir-
feet, and stood before the astonished
ate’s
assembly with folded arms and downcast
eyes. A hollow murmur passed from man
to man, and, 4 down wilh the tyrant!’ trem-
j bled on every lip, but no sound was audible.
The pirate sprang to his feet—a dark red
I flush was on his face—his lips quivered—a
fierce warfare of passion shook his frame.
[ 4 Tyrant!’ he exclaimed, 4 the hour of retri-
The pirate cast a look of tender and me- butive justice is at length mine ! But for
lancholy regard on the minstrel, and Otho thee, 1 had been the pride and ornament of
was on the point of expressing the pleasure the land that gave me birth; and had reap-
bis enchanting voice had afforded him, when ed, in honourable warfare, immortal gloiy.
the outlaw to whpm he had first spoken, sud- Your unrelenting cruelty drove me to the
asked, in an imperious tone, * Sir Knight, rocks and fastnesses of these islands, and
whence came you ?” made me the companion of outlawed men, a
A dark frown rested on the brow of Otho, I pirate on the deep. Die ! and let my crimes
as he replied, in a tone equally haughty— my lost honour be visited on thee l* His
* From the field of Bu«entelle.’—How went! sword flushed over his head.—' Hold !* ex-
the battle?’— 4 It was not the sword of thejelaimed the minstrel boy, casting himself at
mighty, nor the force of the strong, that [the feet of the pirate and staying' the uplift-
won the field,’ returned the Emperor; 4 trea-led weapon ; ‘raise not your hand against
chery prevailed.’— 4 How !’ exclaimed the j the Lord’s anointed ! He is your prince—
himself unfriended and indigent in the city I piece of mechanism produced in modern
of which he was at no distant period to be I times, notwithstanding the wonderful mven-
ruler. Some individuals, however, assisted j tions and improvements which have lately
him/ and among others, the celebrated per- j taken place in every branch of science,
former Talma, who had known him while at I This famous throne was the work of the
the military school, and even then entertain-1 Demon Sakhura; it was called Koukubal
ed high expectations of the part in life which I Jinna. The beauty of this throne has never
was to be played by k lendit Buonaparte.' I been sufficiently described; the following
“ On the other hand/as a favour of the I are, therefore, the particulars :—
Jacobins, his solicitations for employment I “The side»s of it were of pure gold, the feet
were resolutely, opposed by a person oflof emerald 'and rubies, intermixed with
considerable influence. Aubry, an old offi- {pearls, each of which was as big as an os
cerof artillery, president of the military I trich’s egg. The throne had seven steps
committee/placed himself in strong opposi- on each side were delineated orchards ful
tion to his pretensions. Jof trees, the branches of which were com
“Meantime his situation became daily posed of precious stones representing fruit
more unpleasant. He solicited Barras and I ripe and unripe; on the tops of the trees
Freron, who as Therniidorieus, had preser-1 were to be seen figures of beautiful plu
ved their credit, for occupation in almost any I maged birds, particularly the peacock, the
line of his profession, and even negotiated [ etaub, and the kurges. All these birds
for permission to go into the Turkish ser- were hollowed within artificially, so as oc-
vice to train the Mussulmans to the use of I casionally to utter a thousand melodious
artillery. A fanciful imagination may pur- notes, such as the ear of mortal has never
sue him to the rank of Pacha, or higher: | heard. On the first step were delineated
for go where he would, he could not have vine branches, having bunches of grapes,
remained in mediocrity. His own ideas had I composed of various sorts of precious stones
a similar tendency. * How strange,’ said fashioned in such a manner as to represent
he, 4 it would be, if a little Corsican officer I the different colours of purple, violet, green,
of artillery, were to become a king of Jeru-|and red, so as to render the appearance
4 How!’ exclaimed the
-The following amu-
from a forth-coming
A Clerical Legend.-
sing anecdote is taken
work, by the author of the 44 Traditions of
Edinburg,” to be entitled, “ The Picture of
Scotland.”— 44 Murk inch, a little inland pa
rish village in Fife, near the road between
Kirkaldy and Cupar, derives a sort of inter
est from a legend connecting it with the
name of one of our most distinguished sove
reigns. James Y. in the course of a pedes
trian tour through Fife, is said to have come
in disguise to Markinch, and to have called
at the only place of entertainment then in
the village, for the purpose of refreshing
himself. The landlady had only one room,
and that was engaged by the clergyman and
schoolmaster of the parish; but the king
having no objection to the society of two
such respectable persons, did not scruple to
enter and seat himself at-the same table.
When some time, and a good deal of liquor
had been spent, the reckoning was called,
and, as Janies had not been present during
above a third of the whole sederunt, the
schoolmaster proposed that he should pay a
smaller share accordingly. But this way of
reasoning did not satisfy the clergyman,
who vociferated that it had been the custom
of ’Vlarjtinch, from time immemorial, to pay
his:z:lety-pigaiety, without regard to the
quantity of liquor which each individual
might have drunk. The schoolmaster at
tempted to convince his boon companion of
the selfishness and absurdity of this system,
and asserted the impropriety of carrying it
into practice in the present case, inasmuch
as the person in question was n stranger,
and should be treated with hospitality in-
steadyrf injustice: “ No, no, sir,” pawled
the priest^ 44 higglety-pigglety’s the y! ordYn
Markinch, and will be, as lang as I hae ony
thing to do w’it. 4 Week weel,’ said the
king, who had not yet spoken. 4 higglety-
pigglety be’tlaying down his whole share
of the reckoning. His majesty immediate
ly after took measuies to put the school
master and minister of Markinch upon an
equal footing as to salary, at once to reward
the generosity of the former, and to punish
the sordidness of the latter. It is further
said, that the salaries of these two parocbhl
dignitaries continued nearly equal till times
not long gone by. and that the schoolmaster
of Markinch is still rather better off than mo.'4
of his brethren in that respect.—Lon. paper.
salem.* He was offered a command in La I real fruit. * On the se<
Vandee, which he declined to accept, and I side of the throne^ werd
was finally named to command a brigade of|ft#iect, as fife,J41
artillery in Holland.” raid. TWiialure of this remark
He was afterwards appointed to command was such, that when the
the conventional forces, from which ho was | placed his foot upon tfc
promoted to general of tho interior. Th<
author connects, wit&th£ history of Napo- r _ ^
for
L
On the Payment of Debts.—There are too
many persons who contract debts, without
perceiving any means of payment to be in
their power. Those who transgress in this
manner, feel satisfied they do not see them
selves to be unable to pay. Were they strict
ly honest, however, they would take effec
tual care to see whether they were able or
not. Often by overrating their property,
their efforts, or the markets, they feel a loose
conviction that they shall possess this pow
er ; but they take no pains to render the
fact certain, or even probable. We are
bound before we become willing to receive
our neighbor’s property, to know that we
have means clearly probable of paying him,
otherwise we wantonly subject him to the
loss of it, and differ very little, as moral be
ings, from thieves and robbers.
Another transgression of the same nature
is, neglecting to pay our debts at the time
they become due. There are many persopa
whose general character as Christians, is:
fair, who yet, in this respect, are extremely
deserving of censure. They contract debts,
which they engage to discharge within a giv
en time, This time is therefore a part oF
the contract, a ground on which the bargain
is made ; a condition on which the price was
calculated. This obvious truth is under
stood hy all men; and makes part of thi*
language ofevery bargain in which credit is
given. To the expectation formed hy the'
creditor of receiving his debt at the time-
specifiied, the debtor has voluntarily given
birth, fit is an expectation, therefore, which
he is bound to fulfil:,If he does not take
}
m.
every
in his power to fulfill.
If j|e does not take eve'rv lawful
hid power to fulfil it, or if he does
it when it is in Ids power, he j§
fraud; of depriving his n
haps by design, but by a gui
of a part