through my instigations that his wife acted in the manner she did? If you do, you are mistaken.

Piomingo. Your excellency knows best: I yield full credence to all your assertions. (Meaning, I know you to be the "father of lies," and do not believe a word you say.)

Devil. But that which displeases me more than any thing else, is their habit of attributing to me the origination of a thousand pitiful, sneaking little criminalities, with which, I swear by the blue blazes of Tophet, I would not dirty my fingers. My concience is, certainly, not very troublesome; but I indubitably would not debase my infernal dignity so much as to assist in the perpetration of a thousand little meannesses to which men are addicted.

Does any one act preposterously and absurdly; some wise head will be sure to observe, "I cannot tell what the man means. He has lost his senses, or the devil is in him." What distraction! Do the children of Adam suppose that they would act wisely were it not for the wiles of the devil? Must all their folly and insanity be laid on my shoulders, as well as their meannesses and wickednesses?

Then again, they make me a picture of deformity as well as the author of iniquity. Is any one misshapen or hardfavored; some jackanapes will undoubtedly exclaim, "He is as ugly as the devil!" The puppies! must I be the prototype as well of corporal as of mental obliquity! Why should they suppose that 1 had horns like an ox, or a foot like a goat? By the infernal gods! my imperial blood boils with diabolical indignation, when I think of such slanderous aspersions!-But my time may come-they may fall in my power-and then, ye powers of darkness! how I will roast them! [Here the devil fell into a furious passion. He foamed at the mouth; sparks flew in myriads from his eyes; and the smoke rolled from his nostrils! We were terrified.]

Piomingo. The resentment shown by your majesty is very just; but

Devil. True, very true; I should not suffer my serenity to be disturbed by their contemptible malignity. [Here he suppressed his agitation, adjusted his robe, and called up the obedient smiles in his countenance.]

Piomingo. Your sublimity should rather derive amusement from their folly, than suffer it to give you any uneasiness. Your majesty's glass

Devil. Their folly is amusing; (drinking and bowing) very amusing indeed. To hear a fellow call one of his neighbors "a great overgrown devil;" and in the same breath describe another as "a poor puny little devil," is, upon my soul, very amusing-ha ha ha!

Piomingo. Ha ha ha! [Our laugh was forced; but had we not been diverted by our infernal visiter's wit, we should have offended him eternally. We therefore dragged the unwilling convulsion into our visage, and laughed most obstreperously. We all know that, in the common occurrences of life, it is absolutely necessary to laugh at all the dull jokes and insipid sayings of a rich man how much more incumbent was it upon us to be titillated by the pleasantry of his majesty of Pandemonium?] Devil. Of the magnitude of him who

"Collecting all his might, dilated stood,

Like Teneriff or Atlas;"

of whom it is said that

"His stature reached the sky, and on his crest

Sat horror plumed;"

of the magnitude of such a one, I say, mortals may talk with the utmost propriety.

Piomingo. With the utmost propriety. [We had learned that, among men, nothing gives greater pleasure to one who is ambitious of making a display of his oratorical powers in conversation, than barely to assent to every thing that he says: and if this assent be given by repeating a few of the orator's own words, the satisfaction will be complete. We concluded that, in all probability, the case was the same among devils; and therefore we played off our civilization upon the "god of this world."] Devil. But to talk of a little devil, is as absurd as to talk of a great man

Piomingo. Which would be the height of absurdity. [We felt the meanness of our conduct in yielding this point to the old sinner; but as we had put on the painted visor of refined man, we determined not to throw it off.]

Devil. I have sometimes supposed that your gay ones were like to have correct ideas of infernal beauty, when I have heard them say of a fine girl, "She is devilish handsome;" but I found this merely owing to a strange partiality they had for the word "devilish:" it being applied indiscriminately to beauty and deformity. Indeed, all words, that have any relation to my lower dominions, appear to be favorites with these mortals. The words certainly are expressive. But the thing that displeases me is this: they use them without any regard to propriety. One man is "damned rich;" another is "damned poor." In summer, it is as "hot as hell;" and in winter, as cold as damnation: the word "damn" and its derivatives, making nearly one half of their vocabulary. [The clock struck one. He vanished, leaving nothing behind him but a sulphureous stench. Had he taken his leave in an orderly manner, we would have waited on him to the door, and requested the honor of another visit;-but we were extremely well pleased with the manner of his departure.

After looking cautiously round, and becoming perfectly satisfied that he was actually gone, we began to abuse him most politely, cursing him and all his generation from the beginning of the world to this day, and imputing to his instigation every error of our life. We called him wicked, mean, black, deformed, clovenhoofed, horned; and gave him every other opprobrious epithet that we could find in the English and Muscogulgee languages. We grow civilized.]

LETTERS.

EXCELLENCE in letter writing is allowed by the best judges to be difficult of attainment: and the directions

that are laid down to guide us in the pursuit of this excellence appear to be defective. We are told that the style must be easy and natural; and that we should use nearly the language of conversation. This is very true; but in conversation we are generally prolix, and it is necessary in writing a letter that we should avoid that prolixity. It requires a considerable portion of ingenuity to condense our matter sufficiently, and still retain that ease and simplicity which are indispensable requisites in epistolary writing.

Every appearance of carelessness, in a letter, is an insult offered to the person with whom we correspond. When we receive a letter from a person who calls himself our friend, written in a careless and slovenly manner, we are always much more displeased than if that friend had not written at all.

Letters, on business, may be as short as one pleases: and the shorter the better, if they be sufficiently full and explicit; but letters of friendship ought to be somewhat extended; if they be very brief it is informing our correspondent that we do not chose to devote a moment's attention to him or his affairs, more than the cold rules of politeness imperiously demand.

THE SAVAGE-NO. V.

FRIENDSHIP.

OUR observations on friendship have led us to reflect on those institutions of society which are favorable or unfavorable to the existence or continuance of the social affections.

If friendship frequently meet with interruptions among savages, how much more unfortunate is its fate where the system of oppropriation is carried into every department of human affairs; where education, manners, amusements, and, in fine, all the concerns of life,

have a direct tendency to encourage and establish the selfish propensities of the human breast; where the first lessons of youth are calculated to brutalize the mind, extinguish every spark of generous enthusiasm; where every thing is carved out into portions, and meum and tuum meet the eye every where both at home and abroad; where the earth is divided into sections, the water descends by inheritance, and even the use of the air is appropriated to individuals?

If friedship be insecure among savages, where there are none rich and none poor; where the earth, the air, and the water are free; where the whole village assembles at dances and public feasts, and all unite in amusements interesting to all; where every heart is light, and every tongue utters the effusions of the heart; where all unite, in one body, to praise the God of their fathers with songs and with dances, with the music of reeds and the beating of drums; where the joy becomes contageous, and the gladness of the soul is reflected from face to face, until the sick forgets his pain; the afflicted, his sorrow; and the aged, the approaches of death; where all join in one dance, and all sit down to one feast; where no invidious preferences are shown, no insulting privilege usurped-if friendship, we repeat it, be insecure under these circumstances, how precarious must its situation be, where nothing gives importance but wealth, and wealth has no connexion with individual merit; where the higher and the lower ranks never unite in the same amusement; where men never can forget for a moment the inequality of their situations in life; where sordid ignorant bloated wealth must be fed with continual adulation, and indigent merit must shrink into insignificance, or become the object of ridicule and contempt; where every association of individuals is a school of intrigue and a conspiracy against the species at large; where every individual watches his neighbor with an eye of suspicion and distrust; where truth is never heard, unless for some malignant purpose; and where men endeavor to wear the semblance of virtue, E