Department of State,

Washington, July 21st, 1843.

To His Excellency, Her Britannic Majesty's Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary, &c.

SIR-The undersigned, Secretary of State, has the honour to acknowledge the receipt of an official communication of the 18th inst., with a reiterated demand for an explanation of the meaning of the concluding paragraph of a letter from this department of the 25th ult.

With a sincere desire to maintain that friendly feeling existing between the two Governments, so happily consummated by his predecessor in office, he readily accedes to any proposition which will permanently tend to cherish those feelings. But the undersigned cannot conveniently understand how this correspondence can be complicated, by the attention of Her Majesty's Envoy being called to a subject of such lively interest to the Government, and people of the United States, as an insult offered to Mr. Ett, the American Minister at London.

The undersigned is aware, that the delicate matter alluded to is a subject for official communication between this Government and Her Majesty's Ministers, and has already given the subject attention. This

Government declines any official communication with the Archbishop of Canterbury. The fact of the youngest daughter of our Minister having been presented at Court by the Countess of Nothingburg and being graciously received by Her Britannic Majesty since the affair at the University of Oxford, would lead the undersigned to believe that the difficulty has been happily adjusted.

The undersigned unequivocally denies any intention to convey any semblance of a threat to her Majesty's Envoy in that passage of his letter, wherein J M- P is alluded to as a guarantee to this Government for the maintenance of peace with all the powers of the earth.

The civic honours of the Secretary of War are far superior in the eyes of this Government, and the people of the United States, to the doubtful laurels that adorn his brow. Grateful as the people of these United States are for the glory achieved by him not only at Shell-Pot, but in the Indian wars of '40, which threatened the Capital of the State of Pennsylvania, devastated and crippled the resources of that thriving Commonwealth, and which were brought to a crisis by his genius and the powerful aid of his gallant brother, the Commanderin-Chief of the militia of Pennsylvania-matters for the historic page, the details of which are well known to the people of the United States, and of which her Majesty's Envoy can form but an imperfect idea-yet the confidence reposed in him by the Government and the people arises from his civic virtues-the purity of his patriotism -his self-denial and incorruptible integrity, and his amiable, deportment, always the concomitant of true bravery. It may not be known to her Majesty's Envoy

that he has refrained from challenging the waiter at a hotel upon a question of soup, and meekly bore indignities upon a matter of precedence of a hack. He has practised for many years in the Courts of Common Pleas of Northampton County with great distinction, and would still have remained there had he not, in his own emphatic language, been certioraried to Washington by the President of the United States.

With such a man at the head of the War Department, with a combination of so many excellent virtues tempered by so much amiable discretion and forbearance, Her Majesty's Envoy will properly appreciate the feeling and motive which dictated the expression of that paragraph, which the undersigned is free to confess, without this satisfactory explanation, would be of equivocal import.

The undersigned likewise earnestly deprecates any complication of this correspondence; the introduction of the name of the Duke of Wellington, wherein a parallel is sought to be drawn between the heroes of Shell-Pot and Waterloo, will certainly produce that effect which Her Majesty's Envoy and the undersigned had better avoid. And he avails himself of this opportunity to renew his expressions of high consideration and respect. Secretary of State.

LETTERS FROM ISAAC WALTON,

A LINEAL DESCENDANT FROM OLD ISAAC WALTON, THE ANGLER; WHOSE PISCATORY EFFUSIONS ARE SO RENOWNED IN THE LITERARY WORLD.

LETTER I.

Hog Hollow, Tuesday, August 1st, 1843.

DEAR SIR-Numerous correspondents from various watering places are pouring forth their epistolary effusions, each one with unsparing hand lavishing praise not only upon the scenery of his particular locale, but upon the exalted character of the host, who is described as a perfect Mecenas in all the admirable qualities that can adorn human nature, whilst his table is diurnally a feast for the gods: the bare recital of the dainties would make even the mouth of Apicius water.

After perusing these various letters for the last fortnight, and devouring their contents-which so far from fattening me has had a contrary effect-I have determined to quit Hog Hollow, a sweet little rural spot on the banks of Rum Creek, where I had domiciliated with the intention there to sojourn in exclusive rusticity during the hot weather.

I pine for a view of the Capes, with its magnificent display of five hundred red flannel shirts dipping under the curling wave. I long for a glance at the exquisites of Saratoga, or for a view of the Rip-Raps, that American St. Helena, where great men seek a temporary relief from the cares of state and office-seekers.

O! that I had never read those eloquent epistles, ievdently the spontaneous flow of disinterested feeling. I should still be engaged in the peaceful and humble rural sports of Hog Hollow-assisting the boys to club chickens for supper, or moralizing over the remains of decapitated roosters, who but a brief space since were struttting about in all the pride of plumage.

Remorseless Betty!" will not one suffice?" I have been tempted to believe in the doctrine of Metempsychosis, and that the spirits of St. Just, Marat and Robespierre are infused into that susceptible body. But a moment since, O! Chicken! thou wert in all the pride of Roostership,-chop-away flies thy head— what amazing gyrations! what wonderful pirouettes ! and where are you now? melancholy reflection! cheered, however, with the consolatory thought that ere nightfall thou wilt be comfortably established in the abdomen of a restless reporter.

"

Farewell, Rum Creek, and you, gentle decapitating Betty, a long farewell. Farewell to those shelving banks, where for so many hours I have watched the cork of my fishing-line with feverish delight, and the small circles diverge from its painted sides as it bubbled upon the placid pool.

Surely I was not deceived-perhaps some migratory fly, these Bedouins of the insect tribe, had touched, en