and knowing our want,' betrayed the confidence of the English, and joined in Powhatan's design. The vigilance of Smith and the terror of his arms, however, defeated their purpose. The issue of this martial visit, therefore, was the supply of their present necessities by negotiation instead of violence. In the speeches between Smith and Powhatan on this occasion, it is impossible to deny, that the savage far exceeds the English knight, in point of intellectual vigor and dexterity. He wished to persuade him to trade without arms, and in the beginning of the negotiations addressed Smith as follows:

'Captaine Smith, you may vnderstand that I having seene the death of all my people thrice, and not any one liuing of those three generations but my selfe; I know the difference of Peace and Warre better than any in my country. But now I am old and ere long must die, my brethren, namely Opitchapam, Opechancanough, and Kekataugh, my two sisters, and their two daughters, are distinctly each others successors. I wish their experience no lesse than mine, and your loue to them no lesse than mine to you. But this bruit from Nandsamund, that you are come to destroy my Country, so much affrighteth all my people as they dare not visit you. What will it availe you to take that by force you may quickly haue by loue, or to destroy them that provide you food. What can you get by warre, when we can hide our provisions and fly to the woods? whereby you must famish by wronging vs your friends. And why are you thus iealous of our loues, seeing vs vnarmed, and both doe, and are willing still to feede you, with that you cannot get but by our labours? Thinke you I am so simple, not to know it is better to eate good meate, İye well, and sleepe quietly with my women and children, laugh and be merry with you, haue copper, hatchets, or what I want being your friend: than be forced to flie from all, to lie cold in the woods, feede vpon Acornes, rootes, and such trash, and be so hunted by you, that I can neither rest, eate, nor sleepe; but my tyred men must watch, and if a twig but breake, every one cryeth, there commeth Captaine Smith: then must I fly I know not whether. .....Let this therefore assure you of our loues, and every year our friendly trade shall furnish you with Corne; and now also if you would come in friendly manner to see vs, and not thus with your guns and swords as to invade your foes.' vol. i. pp. 208, 209.

We question whether the council room at the Tuilleries or Aranjuez, on those fortunate days when the board is presided' by the august puppets themselves, witnesses more good sense and good policy, than is uttered by the Virginia monarch.

The replies of Smith bear marks of his indignation at the supposed treachery of Powhatan, and a scene soon ensued quite worthy of Naples and Genoa in the nineteenth century. A skirmish having ended in the defeat of the savages, Powhatan sent a great bracelet and chaine of pearle by an ancient oratour' to Smith, to renew the negotiations thus entamés ; a manner of recommencing a treaty with a powerful party, not wholly unusual in later days. One other attempt was made to surprise the vigilant adventurer, which was defeated partly by her assistance, who has been emphatically styled the guardian angel of the English.'

"Notwithstanding the eternall all-seeing God did preuent him, and by a strange meanes. For Pocahontas his dearest iewell and daughter, in that darke night came through the irksome woods, and told our Captaine great cheare should be sent vs by and by: but Powhatan and all the power he could make, would after come kill vs all, if they that brought it could not kill vs with our owne weapons when we were at supper. Therefore if we would liue, shee wished vs presently to be gone. Such things as she delighted in, he would haue giuen her: but with the teares running downe her cheekes, she said she durst not be eene to haue any: for if Powhatan should know it, she were but dead, and so shee ranne away by her selfe as she came.' vol. i. p. 212.

Many successive attempts by violence and treachery, both on Smith personally and on the whole corps of adventurers, are detailed with minuteness. In addition to the qualities of an intrepid heart and cool head, our hero seems to have possessed the very convenient attributes of great personal strength and activity. In a personal encounter with a most strong stout salvage,' these accomplishments seem to have stood him in great stead. The Indian warrior having grappled Smith in a way to prevent his drawing his falchion, bore him by main force into the river to drown him. Rather a ludicrous effect is produced by the association of the dignified titles, under which the combatants on this occasion are described. 6 Long struggled they in the water, till the President got such a hold on the King's throat, he had neare strangled him; but having drawne his faucheon to cut off his head, seeing how pitifully he begged his life, he led him prisoner to lames Towne and put him in chaynes.' It would perhaps be as well for society, if disputes between potentates were arranged in this way more frequently. We conceive it would be much more to the in

terests of humanity, for instance, if, instead of bringing half the slaves of Russia and Asia together, to slaughter each other on the Danube, Alexander and the Grand Seignior should arrange their differences in this manner of the President and King. If, on this occasion, the Commander of the Faithful were strangled, it would, of course, be perfectly in Ottoman etiquette, while a similar death could not be considered ignominious by Alexander, as he is belied, or he inflicted it on his father with the folds of his own sash.

Soon after the arrival of the great expedition under lord Delaware and others, Smith returned to England. His absence, which was the occasion of great loss and confusion to the English-topics which belong rather to their history, than his biography-must also have been sensibly felt by his lovely and imperial friend. That he had found leisure in the tumults and distresses of the new colony, to cultivate her friendship, may be imagined from the slight circumstance, that among the phrases illustrative of the native language, in the original, is bid Pocahontas bring hither two little Baskets and I will give her white beads to make her a chain,'-these phrases being of course, among those constantly in use. Whether the charms of Charatza or Callamata were too strong in his remembrance to admit a return to the love of the princess or not, the English captain never alludes to her in any other terms than gratitude, for her protection. After his departure, however, Pocahontas never went to James Town. She was at length persuaded to go on board an English ship in the river, and was detained there for near two years. Here Master John Rolfe, an honest Gentleman and of good behaviour,' fell in love with Pocahontas and she with him. A proposal for their marriage. was accordingly made to Powhatan, which appears to have been very agreeable to him, and in consequence a treaty of peace was concluded and kept. Her husband carried her to England in 1616, and Smith immediately gave queen Ann a detailed account of all the services rendered by the princess to the colony, attributing the possession of the Virginia territory entirely to her assistance. Smith himself was about to sail for New England at this time, but had one interview with his friend and protectress. It seems Pocahontas had been convinced of Smith's death; and we know few relations more affecting, than the following, in its cold, plain sincerity.

'After a modest salutation, without any word, she turned about, and obscured her face as not seeming well contented. But not long after, she began to talk, and remembered mee well what courtesies she had done: saying, You did promise Powhatan what was yours should be his, and he the like to you; you called him father, being in his land a stranger, and by the same reason, so must I do you; which, though I would haue excused, [as] I durst not allow of that title, because she was a King's daughter, with a well set countenance she said, Were you not afraid to come into my fathers Countrie, and caused feare in him and all his people, but me, and feare you here I should call you father; I tell you then I will, and you shall call me childe, and so I will be for ever and ever your Countrieman. They did tell us always you were dead, and I knew no other till I came to Plymouth.'—vol. ii. p. 32.

The princess was treated with kindness in England, was presented at court, and at the masks and otherwise to her great satisfaction and content.' She also, we are told, became formal and civil after the English manner.' She died at Gravesend, having embarked for the outward passage.

Some account is given in the remainder of the second volume of the proposal made by Captain Smith to repress the savages, after the great massacre. This was rejected by the proprietors on the ground of the expense attending the project. The company somewhat inclined, however, to accept the offer on condition of having half the pillage, but when informed by Smith, that none was to be obtained-'I would not give twenty pound for all the pillage is to be got among the Salvages in twenty years,' the plan of extirpating them was abandoned. The company appear to have endeavored to act with great and politic humanity, in the outset, towards the natives, and strict orders were issued to Smith and others to use no violent measures towards them, and he appears to have met with censure, on several occasions, for his forcible conduct. It may be doubted, though from the case of Pennsylvania it is not certain, whether this policy was practicable. Powhatan appears to have considered the settlements as the act of aggression, and from the idea he had formed of the power and resources of the English, to have anticipated, that it would have at least required all his own to expel them. The pacific policy is hardly to the taste of men in the situation of our colonists, and some sentences like this, from the compilation, show what course would have been to some more eligible :—“ And

you haue twenty examples of the Spaniards how they got the West Indies, and forced the trecherous and rebellious Infidels to doe all manner of drudgery worke and slauery for them, themselues liuing like Souldiers vpon the fruits of their labours.'

A short account is given of his voyage to New England, and survey of its coast, and with these the account of his life ends. The materials for his biography, after this period, are extremely scanty. He died in London about 1625 or $27. The book concludes with a memoir on the New England fisheries, the importance of which Smith eloquently sets forth. 'Therefore honourable and worthy Countrymen, let not the meannesse of the word fish distaste you, for it will afford as good gold as the Mines of Guiana or Potassie with lesse hazard and charge and more certainty and facility.'

We have pursued Smith's personal adventures to the exclusion of the very interesting anecdotes of the settlement of Virginia, New England, and the Bermudas, with which they are interwoven. This book in its present form is extremely valuable, and does credit to the enterprise of the Franklin Press. The long title page, which we have copied at the head of this article, will afford a view of the contents of these documents, fully supported by the tracts themselves. This being the first reprint of Smith's memoirs, we have been led to make them the foundation of this article, though perhaps on the whole less novel, than the passages' in the general history of the adventurers.

ART. XIX.-Das Goldene Vliess, Dramatisches Gedicht in drey Abtheilungen, von Franz Grillparzer. Wien, 1822, 8vo.-The Golden Fleece. A dramatic poem in three parts. By Francis Grillparzer.

It has been fashionable for several years in England to hold up its old drama as the boast and despair of its literature; to show how the efforts of its earliest and best writers were put forth in this department, and to complain, that those efforts have never since been rivalled. The dramatic art has come, in fact, to be considered as almost a lost art; and the reasons are discussed very seriously why no English authors of the present day can write tragedies as well as they were written