University of Virginia Library

As I expect all the Critics upon my back, I intend, if possible, to anticipate their attacks. I have already been quizzed upon my author's introducing a Mammoth on the stage, when he was an Arabian, and could never have heard of such an animal. But I hope the doubts of my readers, on this head, will be dispelled, on perusing the following brief sketch of the history of Sampfilius Philoerin, which I have hastily compiled from the folio Biography in my possession. Indeed, I had contemplated giving this interesting work to the public entire; but am now determined to decline it, until their patronage for the poem shall have convinced me they are deserving of such an exquisite treat.

Sampfilius Philoerin was born in Arabia Felix, about the time that Cyrus had extended his conquests over all the kingdoms of the East. Sampfilius was a direct descendant, in the male line, of Ishmael, the son of Hagar, filie-de-chambre to the patriarch Abraham. He had the advantage of an excellent education, and early imbibed a thorough knowledge of mankind. His fables were comprised in twelve royal quarto volumes, and rendered him famous throughout the east before he was six years old; but these were “lost in the vortex of revolutions,” long before the art of printing was invented. Ere he attained the age of manhood, he became so disgusted with the despotism under which he existed, that he involved his whole family in ruin by too public an expression of his disaffection. Finding himself an outcast among his countrymen, and his very life in danger, he resolved on seeking his fortune in a foreign clime, and thus to gratify an inordinate thirst for travelling, which he had long cherished. He accordingly disguised himself in the habit of a wandering Arab, and commenced his new career amid dangers and difficulties, which a soul of inferior talents and firmness would have despaired of surmourning.

After visiting every part of Asia, he found himself, at the age of forty, in the most north-eastern extremity of those inclement regions which have since become a portion of the Russian empire; and at length safely landed on the shores of this continent, on a cake of ice. Here he had to encounter fresh difficulties, and renew the fatigue of travelling over enormous mountains of ice and snow, some dozen times higher than the Andes, in search of a less frigid region, in which he might rest from the toils of a tour so unpleasant and unprofitable as the one in which, for twenty years, he had been thus engaged. At the end of about six months he attained his wish, and found himself on the fertile banks of the Mississippi, in the summer season. Here a new creation burst upon his enraptured view; and he almost imagined himself in the spicy groves of his native soil, inhaling the ambrosial fragrance of Arabia's odoriferous zephyrs. He soon learned that he was in the midst of an empire of civilized brutes, governed by a monarch, whose goodness was only equailed by his size. Here he resolved to fix his abode, and here he did in fact reside until the termination of his earthly existence. Previous to his death, he collected together his papers, and after destroying those which he thought of no consequence to some future age which he anticipated, he enclosed the remainder in a solid spar of crystal, and sunk them in the river on whose banks he expired.

Centuries rolled away, and this virtuous race of animals gradually declined, giving place to a new order of beings, viz: the red men of the wood, who made it their business to extirpate, by every mean in their power, the former inhabitants of this sylvan paradise. The Mammoth king shared the common fate; and his bones are now exhibited in an European museum.

About two months ago, as a boat was descending the Mississippi, one of the boatmen, a little elevated with whiskey, fell overboard, and went instantly to the bottom. His comrades, after a vast deal of difficulty, at length discovered the body, on the oozy bed of the river, clinging fast to the very spar of crystal above mentioned. In a few hours they succeeded in getting their companion, and the apparent object of his affection, out of the river. The man was dead; but the manuscripts of Sampfilius Philoerin were thus accidentally rescued from the waters of oblivion, for the applause of an admiring world. The papers being all written in Arabic, (mere heathen Greek to the boatmen) I had no difficulty in procuring them; and the spar of crystal is now deposited in the American Museum, kept by Mr. Scudder, in this city, where those who have the curiosity may examine it at their leisure.

The above sketch is but the faint outlines of an enormous work, which, as I said before, I will not give the public, unless they pay me well for “Zoologian Jurisprudence,” which being the author's last production, will, I think, be a correct criterion by which the public may judge of his other works.