Amelia; or, The faithless Briton. An original American novel, founded upon recent facts. : To which is added, Amelia, or Malevolence defeated; and, Miss Seward's Monody on Major Andre.

THE LIFE OF CERVANTES.

MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAA|VEDRA, whose writings have thrown a lustre over Spain, amused Europe, and corrected his century, lived poor, unfortunate, and died almost forgotten; we were ignorant till with|in these few years, of the true place of his birth. Madrid, Seville, Lucene and Alcala, disputed this honour with each other; thus Cervantes, like Homer, Camoens and many other great men, found several countries after his death, and wanted necessaries during his life.

The Spanish academy under the protection

of its sovereign, has at length rendered the memory of Cervantes that homage which Spain has owed him for too long a time; they have published a splendid edition of Don Quixotte. It seemed as if they had believed that the magnificence of this publication could repair the injuries that the nation had done its author. His life is at the head, written after the most exact researches, by a distinguished academician. I shall follow this authority, as far as regards facts, permitting myself to speak o•• the works of Cervantes, according to the sentiments they have inspired me with.

Cervantes was a gentleman, son to Roderi|go Cervantes, and Leonora de Cortinas; he was born at Alcala de Henares, a city of new Castile, the 9th day of October 1547, under the reign of the emperor Charles the fifth. From his infancy he loved books; he studied in Madrid under a celebrated professor, where he very soon surpassed the most expert scholars. The grand science of that time was latin and theology; the parents of Cervantes

intended to have made him an ecclesiastic or a physician, the only lucrative professions in Spain; but he had still this trait in common with many celebrated poets, of making verses in spight of his parents. An elegy on the death of Queen Isabella de Valois, a number of son|nets, and a little poem called "Filene," were his first essays; the small regard that they paid to these works appeared to him an injus|tice, he left Spain, and went to settle at Rome, where distress forced him to become valet de chambre to Cardinal Aquaviva.

Disgusted very soon with an employment so little fit for him, Cervantes became a sol|dier, and fought with distinguished valour in the famous battle of Lepanto, gained by Don John of Austria, in 1571: he received there a wound in his left hand from a musquet, of which he was lame all his life;—as a recom|pence for this wound he was put into the common hospital at Messina. Having left the hospital, the trade of an invalid soldier ap|peared to him preferable to that of a despised

poet, he went and enrolled himself anew in the garrison of Naples, in which city he re|mained three years. As he was repassing in|to Spain on board a galley of Philip the Se|cond's, he was taken and brought into Algiers, by Arnaut Mami, the most renowned of all the corsairs.

Fortune, who exhausted her rigours upon the unfortunate Cervantes, could not wear out his courage;—slave to a cruel master, sure of dying in torments if he durst make the least attempt to recover his liberty, he concert|ed his escape with fourteen Spanish captives. They agreed to redeem one from among themselves who should go to his own country, and return with a bark to carry the others dur|ing the night; the execution of his project was not very easy: it was necessary at first to get as much money as should pay for the ran|som of one of the prisoners, afterwards to escape from the houses of their different masters, and be able to remain all together, without being discovered, till the very mo|ment that the bark should arrive to carry them

away. So many difficulties appeared insur|mountable; the love of liberty brought it all about. A captive, a native of Navarre, em|ployed by his master in cultivating a large gar|den upon the borders of the sea, took on himself the task of hollowing out a cave in the most retired part of the garden, capable of containing the fifteen Spaniards; he spent two years in this work, during which time they gained, what with alms and hard work, the ransom of a Majorcan, named Viane, whose fidelity they were sure of, and who knew per|fectly well all the coast of Barbary. The money being ready, and the cave being finish|ed, it was necessary to wait yet six months be|fore every one was prepared to go there; then Viane ransomed himself, and parted from them, having sworn to return in a little time.

Cervantes had been the soul of the enter|prize; it was he who exposed himself every night in seeking food for his companions; as soon as day appeared, he retired into the cave

with provisions enough for the day. The gardener, who was not obliged to conceal himself, had his eyes continually on the sea, to discover if the bark was yet come.

Viane kept his word; arrived at Majorea, he went to the viceroy, laid his commission before him, and demanded his assistance in favour of the enterprise; the viceroy gave him a brigatine. Viane, with his heart full of hope, flew to the deliverance of his brothers; he arrived on the coast of Algiers, the 28th day of September, of that same year 1577, one month from the day he had left it. Viane had observed every place so well, that he knew them again altho' it was night, he directs his little vessel towards the garden, where he was expected with so much impatience. The gardener, who was on the watch, perceived him, and ran to acquaint the captive Span|iards of it. All their misfortunes are forgot|ten at this happy news, they embrace each other, they press to get out of the cave, they view with tears of joy the bark of their deli|verer;

—but alas! as the prow touched the shore, some Moors were passing that way, and knowing the Christians, cried out to arms! Viane trembling spreads his sails, gains the open sea and disappears; the unhappy cap|tives, fallen again into their chains, went to weep at the bottom of their cave.

Cervantes re-animates them, he made them hope, and flattered himself that Viane would return again; but Viane returned no more. Grief, and the dampness of their narrow and unhealthy abode, brought disorders on these unhappy people. Cervantes was no longer able to procure necessaries for some, to take care of others, and to encourage all: he got one of his companions to assist him, and gave him the charge of providing victuals in his place. The person he made choice of was a traitor, he went to the King of Algiers, turn|ed Mussulman, and led himself to the cave, a troop of soldiers, who put the thirteen Span|iards in irons, and dragged them before the King; that Prince promised them their lives,

if they would declare who was the author of the enterprise;—It is I, said Cervantes to him, save my brothers, and put me to death. The King respects his intrepidity, he gave him back to his master Arnaut Mami, who would not put so brave a man to death.

The unhappy gardener, who had made the cave, was hung up by one leg, till his blood smothered him. Cervantes, deceived by for|tune, betrayed by his friend, and returned to his first chains, only became more ardent to break them; four times he failed in his at|tempts, and was on the point of being impaled. His last effort was to cause a revolt among all the slaves in Algiers, and to make himself mas|ter of it; they discovered this conspiracy, yet Cervantes was not put to death;—so certain it is, that true courage will make itself res|pected even among barbarians.

It is true, that Cervantes being willing to speak of himself, in the novel of the Captive, one of the most interesting in Don Quixotte, says,

That the cruel Azan, King of Algiers was never merciful only to a Spanish soldier, named Saavedra; who exposed himself of|ten to the most frightful punishments, which will not for a long time be forgotten by the infidels.

In the mean time, the King of Algiers, willing to be the master of so famous a cap|tive, purchased him from Arnaut Mami, and had him closely confined. A short time af|ter, this Prince being obliged to go to Con|stantinople, demanded from Spain the ransom of his prisoner. The mother of Cervantes, Leonora de Cortinas, a widow and poor, sold all that she had, and ran to Madrid, carrying with her three hundred ducats to the fathers of the Trinity, who were charged with the redemption of captives. This money, which was the intire and only fortune of the widow, was far from being sufficient. The King A|zan would have five hundred crowns of gold; the Trinitarians, touched with compassion, completed the sum, and Cervantes was ran|somed

the 19th of September 1580, after a slavery of five years.

On his return to Spain, disgusted with a military life, and resolving to deliver himself up entirely to letters, he retired near his mo|ther, with the fond hope of supporting her by his works. Cervantes was then thirty three years old, he began with GALATEA, of which he gave but the first six books, and which he never completed. This work succeeded pret|ty well; the same year he married Donna Catherine de Palacios, she was descended from a good family, but she was poor, and this marriage did not enrich him. To main|tain his family, Cervantes wrote comedies; he assures us, that they were well received, but very soon after this, he quitted the theatre for a small employment which he obtained at Se|ville, where he went to settle. It was there he wrote those novels where he paints so well the vices of that great city.

Cervantes was near fifty years old, when he was obliged to take a journey into La Mancha.

The inhabitants of a little village named Ar|gamazilla, picked a quarrel with him, threw him into prison, and left him in it a long time; it was there that he began Don Quixotte, he believed that he should revenge himself on those who had insulted him, by making their country the country of his hero. He affected in the mean time not to mention once in his romance, the town where he had been so bad|ly treated. He began by giving to the pub|lic no more than the first part of Don Quix|otte, which did not succeed. Cervantes knew mankind; he published a pamphlet called "The Squib,"—this work, which it would be impossible to find now, even in Spain, seems to be a criticism on Don Quixotte that covered his slanderers with ridicule;—every one read the satire, and Don Quixotte obtain|ed by this bagatelle, the reputation which since has been due only to itself.—Then all the enemies of good taste let themselves loose against Cervantes. Criticisms, satires, calum|nies, all were set to work. More unhappy

by his success, than ever he had been by his disgraces, he durst not venture to give any thing to the public for several years, his silence added to his misery without appeasing envy. —Happily the Count de Lemos and the Car|dinal of Toledo lent him some succours; this protection, which Cervantes considered as so valuable, was continued to him almost to his death, but was never proportioned either to the merit of the protected, nor to the wealth of the protector. Cervantes, to show his gratitude to the Count de Lemos, dedicated his novels to him, which appeared eight years after the first part of Don Quixotte; the year following he gave his "Voyage to Parnassus," but these works brought him but little money, and the succours of the Count de Lemos were always very weak, since Cervantes to procure bread was obliged to print eight comedies, which the players had refused to perform; he seemed destined to misfortunes and humiliations of every kind▪

This same year, an Arragonian, who took

the name of d'Avellaneda, wrote a continua|tion of Don Quixotte; a wretched continua|tion, without taste, without wit, and without gaiety, but in which he said many things in|jurious to Cervantes;—this sort of merit made the book be read. Cervantes replied to it as all the satires ought to have been replied to: —he published the second part of Don Quix|otte, superior still to the first, every one was convinced of his merit, but the more they were obliged to render him justice, the less sorry were they that a rival, even despicable, should insult him whom they were forced to admire.—Spain is not, perhaps, the only coun|try in the world, where malignity so severe on good works is always indulgent to their de|tractors. Whilst Cervantes lived, Avallaneda was read, as soon as he was dead, his enemy was forgotten.

The second part of Don Quixotte was the last work printed during his life;—he worked still at the romance of "Perfiles and Sigismun|da," when he was attacked by a complaint of

which he died, it was a dropsy;—he felt very soon that he could not be cured, and fearing not to have time to finish his work, augment|ed his disorder by intense application. He was very soon at the extremity; tranquil and serene on the bed of death, as he had been patient under his misfortunes, his constancy and philosophy never forsook him a moment. Four days before his death he had his ro|mance of Persiles brought to him, and traced with a feeble hand, the epistle dedicatory, ad|dressed to the Count de Lemos, who just then arrived from Italy;—this letter deserves to be remembered— it is as follows:—

To DON PEDRO FERNANDEZ DE CASTRO, COUNT DE LEMOS, &c. &c.

We have an old Spanish ballad, which is but too applicable to me;—it begins with these words,

"Tho' Death impatient calls on me; "Still do I wish to write to thee, &c."

Behold precisely the state I am in; they gave me yesterday extreme unction. I am dying, and I am very sorry that I have not the pow|er of telling you how much pleasure your ar|rival in Spain has given me. The joy which I feel at it, ought to save my life; but the will of God be done. Your excellency will know, at least, that my gratitude has last|ed all my days. I have much to regret in not being able to finish certain works which I had destined for you, as The Gardener's Ca|lendar,"—"Bernard the Great,"—and the last books of "Galatea;"—for whom I know you have a friendship. But it would be ne|cessary for this, to have a miracle from the Almighty; and I ask for nothing, but that he may have your Excellency under his pro|tection.—Madrid, April 19, 1616.

MICHAEL DE CERVANTES.

He died the 23d of the same month, aged sixty-eight years, six months, and some days.

The man who conducted himself among the Algerines as we have seen; who compos|ed Don Quixotte—and who wrote this let|ter when dying, was no ordinary man.