Gazette Of The United States, & Philadelphia Daily Advertiser

Anchor Club.

GREAT political agitations not uncommonly have the effect to throw the minds of men into a state of torpor, which is succeeded by decrepit infirmity, and too often terminates in some fatal catastrophe. This mental leprosy hath sorely visited us; its effects threaten to stop the circulation of the vital fluid. Half the life of our political system, is already swallowed up in it, and the other half hangs flitting in mid-air, like the spirit of a dying saint. No incense can appease it—no prayers to stay it can avail. We pray where all is past praying for, and our incense chokes to suffocation, I see the spirit mounting to Heaven, in a stream of blood, It died of inanition

OUR vessel of state is under a lee-shore; and the only anchor that can hold her is foul. A dangerous mutiny on board encourages the obscene harpies who are watching for the wreck; and ravished at the scene, their rites of death* even now scream along the blast. To cast our Palynurus over the stern, and to wreck the embarked ventures of the nation, are hopes near in prospect. The measures taken to extricate her, are partial and temporizing: the officers seem even astonished at their own steps, as if doubtful whether they have done too much or too little—whether to drive ashore, claw off, or attempt to moor—They are signals of distress hung out to an enemy, that is merciless, and who has a fate in reserve for us, that we cannot exaggerate; telling him in terms too plain to be misunderstood, that we have suffered so much already, that we fear to trust ourselves any longer.

Decree of the Convention or executing all fellow-citizens who fall into their hands, and which seems to have staggered even Nicholas.