While I freely confess to you, Gentlemen, | stow the office upon Mr. B. who therefore that I cannot for a moment entertain the confidently relied upon receiving the apsupposition that you were fully aware, pointment. when you admitted into your columns the article alluded to, how wholly unmerited was the injury you were giving the character of Mr. Bunce, whose name you have gravely introduced to your readers as justly lying under the imputation of that array of charges contained in the Post Master General's letter; I must at the same time be permitted the expression of an humble opinion, that the manner in which you have alluded to that most singular transaction, and introduced the name of my father in connexion with it, was, to say the least of it, highly improper and unjustifiable, as you surely must have been sensible that it would give rise to wrong conclusions and impressions on the subject in the minds of your readers.

But, Gentlemen, my intention in this note is not to enter into a philippic against you for giving publicity to the article in question, or to mourn over the consequences which may result from it. My object is to endeavour to repair the injury, in doing which I shall be as brief as possible.

But as the period when the office was to become vacant, and a successor appointed, drew near, a few persons in the vicinity, of the opposite political party, and from motives which had their origin in private personal hostility to my father, formed the determination of defeating his appointment, and procuring the office for another individual whom they set up in opposition to him, and recommended to the P.M.G. as a proper person to fill the office. Every exertion which the most inveterate enmity to my father, and a desperate determination to effect their object at every sacrifice, could devise, was put in requisition to prevent his receiving the appointment. As my object in this note does not render it essential for me to give a particular account of the means they made use of in effecting their object, I refrain from a detail of them. Suffice it to say, they were successful. The result was, the P.M.G. refused to appoint Mr. Bunce, notwithstanding he had repeatedly promised to do it, and subsequent to these promises had received the most unequivocal testimony to the qualifications and character of my father, in the recommendation of hundreds of persons of the first respectability and standing residing within the delivery of the office, and as an excuse for so doing, gravely tells him that his opponents have preferred against him that most ridiculous string of charges contained in your last paper-allegations most of which carry on the very face of them their own refutation-allegations against a man who has for ten or twelve years been the editor of a public journal, and the same length of time a practitioner at law; who has, at different times, been Post Master himself, and had the management of a Post Office in his hands, for eight or ten years, and for four or for five years a magistrate in the town where be resides.

Four or five years since, the management of the Post Office at Litchfield was placed in the hands of Mr. Bunce, the then incumbent having become incapable of discharging the duties of the office in a proper manner. The office was entirely and exclusively under the charge of Mr. B. and the duties of it performed by him to the perfect and universal satisfaction of the people in the vicinity, from that time until last January, when, contrary to the wishes and expectation of the inhabitants of the town generally, the nominal Post Master suddenly took the office from Mr. B's hands into his own again. But circumstances, which it is unnecessary to mention, having obliged the Post Master to resign his office in the latter part of the ensuing spring, and the office thereby becoming vacant, the friends of Mr. B. made exertions to procure him the appointment. He was strongly recommended as successor in the office by many of the most distinguished and influential characters in the state, (among whom was the Governor, who resides at Litchfield) as well as a great portion of the most respectable part of the inhabitants of the town. He was also nominated by the whole Connecti- Editor and Proprietor, No. 4 Wall-street, New-York. cut delegation in both houses of Congress, Subscriptions received by G. & C. Carvill, 108 Broadjust before the close of the last session, who way-where communications may be left, or transmitwent in a body to the P.M.G. and request-ted through the post-office to the editor. ed him to appoint Mr. B. when the office should become vacant, which was expected to take place in a short time, by the resignation of the then incumbent. The P.M. G's promise to that effect was obtained, and he also subsequently pledged himself to be

With due respect, Gentlemen,
I remain yours, &c.
GEORGE M. BUNCE.

PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY.

JAMES G. BROOKS,

No subscriptions received for a shorter term than one year.

No letters or communications will be taken out o

the Post Office, unless the postage is paid.

Terms-Four dollars per annum, payable in advance.

J. SEYMOUR, prioter, 49 John-street.

a blue coat with the undress nankeen pan- forgotten and forgiven; they thought only taloons of the volunteers, and that his neck, of his genius-of the delight his composiwhich was inclining to be short, caused his tions had diffused-and they talked of him hat to turn up behind, in the manner of the with the same awe as of some departing shovel hats of the Episcopal clergy. Truth spirit, whose voice was to gladden them obliges me to add, that he was not fastidious no more. His last moments have never about his dress; and that an officer, curious been described; he had laid his head quiin the personal appearance and equipments etly on the pillow awaiting dissolution, of his company, might have questioned the when his attendant reminded him of his military nicety of the poet's clothes and medicine and held the cup to his lip. He arms. But his colonel was a maker of started suddenly up, drained the cup at a rhyme, and the poet had to display more gulp, threw his hands before him like a charity for his commander's verse than the man about to swim, and sprung from head other had to exercise when he inspected the to foot of the bed-fell with his face down, clothing and arms of the careless bard. and expired with a groan. From the day of his return home till the hour of his untimely death, Dumfries was like a besieged It was known he

was dying, and the anxiety, not of the

Of the dying moments of Byron we have no minute nor very distinct account. He perished in a foreign land among barbarians or aliens, and he seems to have rich and the learned only, but of the me- been without the aid of a determined phychanics and peasants, exceeded all belief. sician, whose firmness or persuasion might Wherever two or three people stood to have vanquished his obstinacy. His avergether, their talk was of Burns and of sion to bleeding was an infirmity which him alone; they spoke of his history-of he shared with many better regulated his person-of his works-of his family-minds; for it is no uncommon belief that of his fame, and of his untimely and ap- the first touch of the lancet will charm proaching fate, with a warmth and an en- away the approach of death, and those thusiasm which will ever endear Dumfries who believe this are willing to reserve so to my remembrance. All that he said or decisive a spell for a more momentous ocwas saying the opinions of the physicians casion. He had parted with his native (and Maxwell was a kind and a skilful land in no ordinary bitterness of spirit; one), were eagerly caught up and report- and his domestic infelicity had rendered his ed from street to street, and from house future peace of mind hopeless-this was to house. aggravated from time to time by the tales His good humour was unruffled, and his or the intrusion of travellers, by reports inwit never forsook him. He looked to jurious to his character, and by the eager one of his fellow volunteers with a smile, and vulgar avidity with which idle stories as he stood by the bedside with his eyes were circulated, which exhibited him in wet, and said, "John, don't let the awk- weakness or in folly. But there is every ward squad fire over me." He was aware reason to believe, that long before his unthat death was dealing with him; he timely death his native land was as bright as asked a lady who visited him, more in ever in his fancy, and that his anger consincerity than in mirth, what commands ceived against the many for the sins of the she had for the other world-he repressed few, had subsided or was subsiding. Of with a smile the hopes of his friends, and Scotland, and of his Scottish origin, he bas told them he had lived long enough. As his boasted in more than one place of his polife drew near a close, the eager yet deco- etry; he is proud to remember the land of rous solicitude of his fellow townsmen in- his mother, and to sing that he is half a Scot creased. He was an exciseman it is true by birth and a whole one in his heart. Of -a name odious, from many associations, his great rival in popularity, Sir Walter to his countrymen-but he did his duty Scott, he speaks with kindness; and the meekly and kindly, and repressed rather compliment he has paid him has been earnthan encouraged the desire of some of his ed by the unchangeable admiration of the companions to push the law with severity; other. Scott has ever spoken of Byron as he was therefore much beloved, and the he has lately written, and all those who passion of the Scotch for poetry made them know him will feel that this consistency is regard him as little lower than a spirit characteristic. I must, however, confess, inspired. It is the practice of the young his forgiveness of Mr. Jeffrey was an unmen of Dumfries to meet in the streets looked-for and unexpected piece of humiduring the hours of remission from labour, and by these means I had an opportunity of witnessing the general solicitude of all ranks and of all ages. His differences from them in some important points of human speculation and religious hope were

lity and loving kindness, and, as a Scotchman, I am rather willing to regard it as a presage of early death, and to conclude that the poet was "fey," and forgave his arch enemy in the spirit of the dying Highlander "Weel, weel, I forgive him, but God

bellished by vanity and covered with the blazonry of high ancestry and rank. We stood and gazed on him in silence for the space of several minutes-we went, and others succeeded us-there was no justling and crushing, though the crowd was great

confound you, my twa sons, Duncan and Gilbert, if you forgive him." The criticism with which the Edinburgh Review welcomed the first flight which Byron's Muse took, would have crushed and broken any spirit less dauntless than his own; and for a long while he entertained the horror of man followed man as patiently and ordera reviewer which a bird of song feels for the ly as if all had been a matter of mutual unpresence of the raven. But they smoothed derstanding-not a question was asked-not his spirit down, first by submission and then a whisper was heard. This was several by idolatry, and his pride must have been days after his death. It is the custom of equal to that which made the angels fall if Scotland to "wake" the body-not with it had refused to be soothed by the obeisance wild howlings and wilder songs, and much of a reviewer. One never forgets, if he waste of strong drink, like our mercurial should happen to forgive, an insult or an in- neighbours, but in silence or in prayerjury offered in youth-it grows with the superstition says it is unsonsie to leave a growth and strengthens with the strength, corpse alone; and it is never left. I know and I may reasonably doubt the truth of the not who watched by the body of Burnspoet's song when he sings of his dear Jef- much it was my wish to share in the honour frey. The news of his death came upon-but my extreme youth would have made London like an earthquake; and though the common multitude are ignorant of literature and destitute of feeling for the high- I am to speak the feelings of another peoer flights of poetry, yet they consented to ple, and of the customs of a higher rank, feel by faith, and believed, because the when I speak of laying out the body of Bynewspapers believed, that one of the bright- ron for the grave. It was announced from est lights in the firmament of poesy was ex- time to time that he was to be exhibited in tinguished for ever. With literary men a state, and the progress of the embellishsense of the public misfortune was mingled, ments of the poet's bier was recorded in the perhaps, with a sense that a giant was re- pages of an hundred publications. They moved from their way; and that they had were at length completed, and to separate room now to break a lance with an equal, the curiosity of the poor from the admirawithout the fear of being overthrown by tion of the rich, the latter were indulged fiery impetuosity and colossal strength. The with tickets of admission, and a day was world of literature is now resigned to lower, set a-part for them to go and wonder over but perhaps, not less presumptuous poetic the decked room and emblazoned bier. spirits. But among those who feared him, Peers and peeresses, priests, poets, and poor envied him, or loved him, there are none liticians, came in gilded chariots and in who sorrow not for the national loss, and grieve not that Byron fell so soon, and on a foreign shore.

such a request seem foolish, and its rejection would have been sure.

hired hacks to gaze upon the splendour of the funeral preparations, and to see in how rich and how vain a shroud the body of the immortal had been hid. Those idle trappings in which rank seeks to mark its altitude above the vulgar belonged to the state of the peer rather than to the state of the poet; genius required no such attractions; and all this magnificence served only to divide our regard with the man whose inspired tongue was now silenced for ever. Who cared for Lord Byron the peer, and the privy councillor, with his coronet, and his long descent from princes on one side, and from heroes on both-and who did not care for George Gordon Byron the poet, who has charmed us, and will charm our descendants with his deep and impassioned verse. homage was rendered to genius, not surely to rank-for lord can be stamped on any clay, but inspiration can only be impressed on the finest metal.

When Burns died I was then young, but I was not insensible that a mind of no common strength had passed from among us. He had caught my fancy and touched my heart with his songs and his poems. I went to see him laid out for the grave; several eldern people were with me. He lay in a plain unadorned coffin, with a linen sheet drawn over his face, and on the bed, and around the body, herbs and flowers were thickly strewn according to the usage of the country. He was wasted somewhat by long illness; but death had not increased the swarthy hue of his face, which was uncommonly dark and deeply marked-the dying pang was visible in the lower part, but his broad and open brow was pale and serene, and around it his sable hair lay in masses, slightly touched with gray, and inclining more to a wave than a curl. The room Of the day on which the multitude were where he lay was plain and neat, and the admitted I know not in what terms to speak simplicity of the poet's humble dwelling-I never surely saw so strange a mixture pressed the presence of death more closely of silent sorrow and of fierce and intracta on the heart than if his bier had been em- ble curiosity. If one looked on the poet's

The