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The New-England magazine. / Volume 2, Note on Digital Production 0002 000
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The New-England magazine. / Volume 2, Issue 1 [an electronic edition] Creation of machine-readable edition. Cornell University Library 546 page images in volume Cornell University Library Ithaca, NY 1999 ABS8100-0002 /moa/nwen/nwen0002/

Restricted to authorized users at Cornell University and the University of Michigan. These materials may not be redistributed.

The New-England magazine. / Volume 2, Issue 1 New England magazine American monthly review American monthly magazine J. T. and E. Buckingham Boston January 1832 0002 001
The New-England magazine. / Volume 2, Issue 1, miscellaneous front pages i-viii

THE NEW-ENGLAND MAGAZINE. VOLUME 11. FROM JANUARY TO JUNE INCLUSIVE. 1832. BY J. T. & E. BTJCKINGIIAM. BOSTON: PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. T. AND E. BUCKINGEAM. N$3 2.. ADVERTISEMENT. In presenting this second volume of the New-England Magazine, the pledge given at the commencement of the work is redeemed. It was an experiment of quite uncer- tain result; but we promised to give it a years probation. The year has expired, and the event, if it have not brought the realization of our hopes, has not disappointed our expectations. The circulation of the Magazine has in- creased monthly. It is yet far from being a source of pecuniary profit; but the experiment thus far encourages us to enter on another year, with no less of hope and with more of confidence. It was originally intended to embellish the Magazine with a series of Portraits. This intention it has been impossible to fulfil. There is some difficulty in procuring original likenesses, and more in obtaining correct copies of originals. The fastidiousness of individuals in two or three instances has frustrated our design. But with all these discouragements, the design will not he abandoned. We make no promises, the fulfilment of which depends upon the whims and caprices of others. A reliance on our own resources is the only basis of any pledge we may offer to the public. We tender our acknowledgements to many friends, for gratuitous assistance, and solicit a continuance of their kindness. Jos. T. BUCKINGHAM. EDWIN BUCKINGHAM. Boston, June 1, 1832. ~i2 z z 0 ~ ~ ~b: ,.~ 0 0 0 ~7c~ ~ 0~ ~0 ~ 0 0: 0.o 02 0~ ow 0 0~. - 0 ~ 0. 0 0 ~ 00 0: ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ o ~ ~ 0 ~~o~0~: ~ ~ 0 OW 0. - 0- .wo~ - o~ 0w ~0~ ~ ~0 ~w - - ~ 0 0 0 0 ~ 0 0 ~ .~10 ~ - 0 0 0 0 0. ~ ~ ~ ~ ,~ C.~0 C~ C~bO ~ ~ ~00~0 o ocoooo~0~-c.~ o~c~ ~ O~ -~ ~ ~0 ~0~0--~ 01 o 0 0 o ~ ~ 0. o o ~o. ~ 0 - ~ ~ 0 w 0: o $ - - -- 0 0 0.. 0 0 ~-.00o - 0 0 0 - 0. o 0 ,~ 0.0 ~ 0 ~0. o0~ ~ 0.. - ,~ 0 o 0 ~ 0 0 - - ~ ~ - - - - ~w 0 0. ~ ~ ~ ~ 00 ~I 0 0 ~ ~ -1~~ ~w0 00 ~ ~o0 .0.010 0 0 P1 -- 01 0 (P -l1~ 1101 0 (P P10 L~ 0~0 . ~01 . 00~ P1-~. 01 $10 01100 ~ (P 11 0 P1 030. 0. (P 01~ I ~ 0 P1 01 - ~ .~ ~) 01 - 0 0 ~(PII II I I~ z 03 0 11 P1 I~IO - 0 01 ~PIll~I1lIIII II 111111 -. 0 -P P1 (P 1~0 03 03 - - - ol ~ P0 03 03(~ ~ ~ ~ P001~01030-P P0 10101001P00 I-~P0 0 ~ ~ ~030313101 ~ ~ l~03 03 03l-~ 0110103P 0101P0 P0 0303 0101 01-P-P P0~ 0103 P I-~P 01 - ~ 0103010101 0P03 ~ 10I~03 0101 01 8~~-030303 ~ 01 ~ -303 ~0~l0 ~ III 0 II Ill I 10111 ~~l l030~o, IJ0I~I I P11 .o.. OIOAII.l,01 S~ .o. ..~0 ~ - (PP1 - 0000 0 - 0311 01 - 0 10 00 01 -- .o~ 0 0 0 P1 - P1 0 0 ~P1 I I I P00 1111 0 10 IIIIIIIIIIIII III 11111 11111 - -010 (1 0~ - P0 P1 P1 ~.10 - - -- - P0 03 0 ~. ~0 l~l 0 P0 ~ - 03P0 03~ 03 03~ 03 ~ 03P0~o~ P0 ~ 03 030303~.~ 0303 ~ ~ ~oo~ ~ 0303 ~ 1-03 ~ 031-~ ~ 03100 ~ -30 ~ ~ 03~ ~ ~10~ z 0 0 LTj I B~B B B05 BIB B~ ~ 00200 SBBB~~ B~B~5~ B~BO( 00 S S B B BB SBSSBB On~8~S~5 SOBS S jI~3~rB B (~:~IBB S~B OO~ ~ ~M(BSSOn~C 000(00 -~ ~Yi5~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 0 0 -~ ~ ;B4 -4 I j~I S I~S B B~5 00 0 00 00 -, B B I~I On .~ S ~ ~ ~ (9 On On BBII BOBOBS 55(9~I..B 00 On~ 8~ 00 (0 BBBBBSS5SIBS 08 08.~ (9

The New Year Original Papers 1

THE NEW-ENGLAND MAGAZINE. JANUARY, 1832. ORIGINAL PAPERS. THE NEW YEAR. WHAT !another year !Ah, Time! we do beseech thee, draw up, a moment, the reins of thy untiring steeds! Stop, for two seconds, the ever-whirling wheels of thy scythed chariot! Give us a little breathing time, a little interval of quiet, in which, undizzied by thy rapid motion, we may look back securely, and look forward calmly! And yet, why ask it? Why ask a boon which the stern tyrant will never grant, and which, though granted, could avail us nothing? Look back! and why look back? Does not Oblivion, with his dark and rolling clouds, sweep close behind, and cut off all the view? Look forward! Alas, what mortal eye can penetrate futurity,what mortal hand can lift the thick and heavy folds of that broad curtain, which hangs before us, and shuts out all the prospect! Let us submit then to inevitable fate. Why should we weary, with our prayers, one who wfll not hear, and who cannot help us? Let remorseless Time hold on his furious course, dragging the universe at his chariot wheels. WE, meanwhile, OUR READERS AND OURSELVES, unmoved amid the universal uproar, will evoke from our own bosoms the calm spirit of serenity; we will call Fancy to our aid, and, relying on her all-powerful influences, will suppose the course of Time to stop; the clouds which veil the past to be uplifted; the darkness which shrouds the future to be withdrawn; and the illimitable pros- pect spread before us. And yet, on second thought, to lift the veil that hides the past is scarcely worth our while. The past is past. But the future! ah, the future! Help, Fancy, if thou canst! Grant us, a little while thy sec- ond sight; make us the prophets of an hour, if thou lovest us; if thou lovest our readers, reveal,reveal the future! The Goddess hears, but her answer is little favorable. Reveal the future? Reveal what is not, and, perhaps, is not to be? Paint that which has no form? Describe that which J~as no existence? In what terms shall it be described? with what colors painted?. Shsll I display it joyous and smiling as the first hours of a summer morning, VOL. II. 1

J. T. B. B., J. T. Retrospection Original Papers 1-4

THE NEW-ENGLAND MAGAZINE. JANUARY, 1832. ORIGINAL PAPERS. THE NEW YEAR. WHAT !another year !Ah, Time! we do beseech thee, draw up, a moment, the reins of thy untiring steeds! Stop, for two seconds, the ever-whirling wheels of thy scythed chariot! Give us a little breathing time, a little interval of quiet, in which, undizzied by thy rapid motion, we may look back securely, and look forward calmly! And yet, why ask it? Why ask a boon which the stern tyrant will never grant, and which, though granted, could avail us nothing? Look back! and why look back? Does not Oblivion, with his dark and rolling clouds, sweep close behind, and cut off all the view? Look forward! Alas, what mortal eye can penetrate futurity,what mortal hand can lift the thick and heavy folds of that broad curtain, which hangs before us, and shuts out all the prospect! Let us submit then to inevitable fate. Why should we weary, with our prayers, one who wfll not hear, and who cannot help us? Let remorseless Time hold on his furious course, dragging the universe at his chariot wheels. WE, meanwhile, OUR READERS AND OURSELVES, unmoved amid the universal uproar, will evoke from our own bosoms the calm spirit of serenity; we will call Fancy to our aid, and, relying on her all-powerful influences, will suppose the course of Time to stop; the clouds which veil the past to be uplifted; the darkness which shrouds the future to be withdrawn; and the illimitable pros- pect spread before us. And yet, on second thought, to lift the veil that hides the past is scarcely worth our while. The past is past. But the future! ah, the future! Help, Fancy, if thou canst! Grant us, a little while thy sec- ond sight; make us the prophets of an hour, if thou lovest us; if thou lovest our readers, reveal,reveal the future! The Goddess hears, but her answer is little favorable. Reveal the future? Reveal what is not, and, perhaps, is not to be? Paint that which has no form? Describe that which J~as no existence? In what terms shall it be described? with what colors painted?. Shsll I display it joyous and smiling as the first hours of a summer morning, VOL. II. 1 2 The New Year. or horrid with the terrors of the bursting thunder storm? Of the in- numerable readers of the New-England Magazine, how many, think ye, anticipate the future with coincident sensations? The old and the young, the fortunate, the unlucky, the contented and the malecontent, the busy and the idle, the thinking and the thoughtless, with what different feelings do they, each and all, look forward into futurity? Every single individual has his own point of view, looks through a different medium, and sees the prospect, tinged with some hues, or filled with some objects l)eculiar to himself. Such is the answer to our invocation; yet, courteous reader, do not despair. Though Time treat us with careless scorn, though Fancy be just now unpropitious, yet never imagine there are not other powers, to which we can appeal without fear of repulse. Poetry has promised his aid; Wit and Humor are pledged to support us; Criticism is en- gaged at a high salary; Satire is preparing some spicy articles; Rea- son is a friend on whom we can rely; and Fancy herself, though sub- ject to little feminine fits of ill humor, we do not doubt, has a hearty disposition to assist us; and, beside these potent allies, we have a grey goose quill of our own, rather blunted to be sure,a little worn in the public service,but, for all that, a serviceable goose quill, and able, still, to scribble an article, such as good-natured people, may get.thro~igh with, of a new years evening, without more than half a dozen yawiis at every other paragraph. And without putting the superior powers to any further trouble, or invoking any foreign assistance, it is this same goose quill of ours, which we have specially laid aside, and dedicated with all due ceremonies to the sole service of the New-England Maga- zine, that we are now going to rely upon. Therefore, courteous reader, we beseech thee, compose thyself in thy easiest chair, in thy chosen corner, and make up thy mind for a quiet, sober, and edifying dis-. quisition. It seems to have been customary, in all ages, and among almost all nations, to make the first day of the new year, a sort of festival; yet one may almost wonder why. At the first view of the matter, the lapse of time does not seem a thing to rejoice at. What reason in the world, is there, that the maiden who has lived nine and twenty years, in single blessedness, should rejoice, that the year has begun which brings with it, her thirtieth birth-day? Or what pleasure can any body, of any age, have, to find that youth is passing, and old age com- ing on? If indeed there were any truth in the melancholy doctrine, that hu- man life is but another name for human misery,if it were indisputa- ble that the sum of suffering exceeded the sum of enjoyment, and life were, what some poets have represented it, a burning fever and a pain- ful delirium, which there is no temptation to prolong, and which is best ended, when soonest ended ;then, indeed, there would seem to he a good reason for celebrating the end of the year, as something which brings us nearer the end of a toilsome and painful journey. But the truth is, that, let poets and philosophers speculate as they may, men and women, as the world goes, think the pleasure of living, by no means contemptible. They love to eat, they love to drink,they are very fend of sleeping, and they hate to find themselves growing old. The New Year. 3 How happens it, then, that they do not rather lament the beginning of a new year than rejoice at it? Instead of visiting, dancing, making presents, and making merry, ought they not to look grave and thought- ful, like men who had lost a great treasure, and should they not la- ment, in sad accents, or in sober sil~nce, the irreparable flight of Time? No,the world is right; the impulses of nature are more trust- worthy than the refinements of speculation. Though time be our greatest treasure, yet the lapse of time is not a thing to be lamented. Life is, in its nature, progressive; we cannot live without moving for- ward; to st~p, is annihilation. Who that has felt the pleasure of roll- ing rapidly ak~ng a macadamized road, does not know, that, the faster his horses move, the sooner his pleasure will be over? Yet does he wish them to move slower? So it is with the vehicle of life. To be whirled along at a good round pace, to be surprised that it is dinner time so soon, to find the week ended before you had thought of it, and the year finished before it seemed well begun ;this is the highest en- joyment oP which human souls are capable. Life may be likened to a bottle of Champagne; it cannot last for- ever, it cannot last long; it must be tossed off before its spirit evapo- rates; it will not do to sit sipping and sipping. Time is like money; it must be spent to be enjoyed; it cannot be hoarded up in dark corners, made much of, and kept all to ones self; the greatest pleasure it affords is the pleasure of parting with it. It is not, then, without reason, that mankind have so universally agreed to celebrate the beginning of the new year. Yet with us, in New-England, this matter is managed in a very slovenly way. New Years day, among us, is one of those days of jubilee, on which nobody rejoices; it is one of that kind of festivals, as to which one hardly knows whether they be festivals or not. Our Puritan forefathers, Heaven rest their souls !had a great horror of merrymaking. Some holidays were cashiered, because they were popish, and some because they were pagan, and several others because they wereholidays; and this sobriety of temper seems, in some measure, hereditary; for, of all nations in the world, the universal Yankee nation, is most care- less of set days of periodical festivity. Yet this same natural sobriety of temperament, this difficulty we find in relaxing into gaiety, would seem to be a very good reason, for the multiplication of holidays, and for the establishment of certain fixed seasons, when it should be every bodys business to be sociable, agreeable, and good-humored. As to the two stated festivals, at pres- ent most in repute among us, we have not very much to say in their favor. The Fourth of July is a mere political jubilee,a day of bell- ringing, toast-drinking, speech-making, and cannon-firing ;the birth day of the nation, to be sure,the day when the bosom of every true citizen swells with patriotic delight,but a day, too, always noisy, and always dull,a day on which we sacrifice our own pleasures to the honor of our country. Thanksgiving is, pretty generally, a favorite ; but, after all, it is a mere family festival, and better calculated to strengthen the ties of kindre4, than to promote that more free and noble sort of sociability, whose only bond is sympathy of soul, where mind comes in contact with mind, and heart with heart. 4 The Masked Cavalier. It certainly would be a thing of good tendency, if the New Years day could be made the same sort of festival among us, which it is said to be, in some other places ;a day of agreeable gaiety, moderate mirth, and universal good humor, a day on which old enmities are extinguished, old grudges forgotten, new friendships formed, and old intimacies revived; a day of smiles and good nature, spreading over the worlds selfish and habitual gloom a gleam, like the sunshine, which breaks through the clouds of a November morning, or the mo- mentary ray of generous emotion, which sometimes bursts upon the souls of the mercenary and hard-hearted. For ourselves, it is this same social and generous spirit, in which we are determined to celebrate the New Year. If any editor hath squibbed our Magazine,behold, we have forgiven him ;if he sees fit, let him squib it again. If any wicked, inconsiderate person hath neglected to put his name to our subscription list, he has our pardon, on condition, always, of immediate amendment. If, on the other hand, there be any author who smarts beneath the paternal discipline of our criticism,let him comfort himself with the thought, that the criticism is forgotten,let him forget it too. If t~ny candidate for fame, whose contribution we have rejected, bears us ill will for the neglect,Jet him restrain his anger,-let him print the rejected article in a pamphlet, and we will criticise it, and bring it into notice. And, thee, too, courteous reader, we forgive thee. Yeseven the yawn with which thou hast read our last paragraph. Go thou, and profit by our example. THE MASKED CAVALIER. .Tlfercut~e. Give me a case to hide my visage in: rutting on a mask.] A visor for a visor! What care I,. hat curious eye can quote deformities ?Rosszo LED JULIET. DEAR to my heart are tales of sunny France, In that bright age when Chivalry was young, What time the joyous Science gained Romance The willing homage of the heart and tongue, When Beauty led the hunt in hat and feather, And knights wore yellow boots of Spanish leather. The mevry hunt! in dreams I hear its horn Through the green passes of the wildwood ring, Mellow but startling, wound at early morn In some deep glade or by some haunted spring Of bubbling water, whose transparent wave Serves secretly some woodland nymph to lave. The times, the sports are gone! tke horn hath wound A mort in sorrow for the dying citace; Search far and near, you will not find a hound, With the true fierceness of the agcient race; The rusted boar.spear hangs upon the wall, That marks its lords decayitsejf about to fall.

The Masked Cavalier Original Papers 4-8

4 The Masked Cavalier. It certainly would be a thing of good tendency, if the New Years day could be made the same sort of festival among us, which it is said to be, in some other places ;a day of agreeable gaiety, moderate mirth, and universal good humor, a day on which old enmities are extinguished, old grudges forgotten, new friendships formed, and old intimacies revived; a day of smiles and good nature, spreading over the worlds selfish and habitual gloom a gleam, like the sunshine, which breaks through the clouds of a November morning, or the mo- mentary ray of generous emotion, which sometimes bursts upon the souls of the mercenary and hard-hearted. For ourselves, it is this same social and generous spirit, in which we are determined to celebrate the New Year. If any editor hath squibbed our Magazine,behold, we have forgiven him ;if he sees fit, let him squib it again. If any wicked, inconsiderate person hath neglected to put his name to our subscription list, he has our pardon, on condition, always, of immediate amendment. If, on the other hand, there be any author who smarts beneath the paternal discipline of our criticism,let him comfort himself with the thought, that the criticism is forgotten,let him forget it too. If t~ny candidate for fame, whose contribution we have rejected, bears us ill will for the neglect,Jet him restrain his anger,-let him print the rejected article in a pamphlet, and we will criticise it, and bring it into notice. And, thee, too, courteous reader, we forgive thee. Yeseven the yawn with which thou hast read our last paragraph. Go thou, and profit by our example. THE MASKED CAVALIER. .Tlfercut~e. Give me a case to hide my visage in: rutting on a mask.] A visor for a visor! What care I,. hat curious eye can quote deformities ?Rosszo LED JULIET. DEAR to my heart are tales of sunny France, In that bright age when Chivalry was young, What time the joyous Science gained Romance The willing homage of the heart and tongue, When Beauty led the hunt in hat and feather, And knights wore yellow boots of Spanish leather. The mevry hunt! in dreams I hear its horn Through the green passes of the wildwood ring, Mellow but startling, wound at early morn In some deep glade or by some haunted spring Of bubbling water, whose transparent wave Serves secretly some woodland nymph to lave. The times, the sports are gone! tke horn hath wound A mort in sorrow for the dying citace; Search far and near, you will not find a hound, With the true fierceness of the agcient race; The rusted boar.spear hangs upon the wall, That marks its lords decayitsejf about to fall. The Masked Cavalier. 5 The hunt is oerits shadow lingers still, A mockery and shame! a feeble strain Summons the country Nimrod to the hill Where friends and dogs assemble oer the plain; Hedge, fence and ditch they scramble far and fast, Jiard on the fox that oft escapes at last. Then there were many ways to show ones love To the fair creature of ones adoration; The surest path to favor was to prove Worthy of mention in a bards narration; Or in the tournament to take a part, By breaking heads to show ones breaking heart. And this reminds me that I have a tale, Which, haply, may find favor in your eyes, Albeit it tells you of no shady vale, Of peace, love, sentiment and paradise; Nor mountains, echoing the bag-pipes tunes, Played by Scotch bards in want of pantaloons. In an old castle in the north of France, Dwelt Isabelle de Valence with her sire; Hers was the lightest footstep in the dance, And hers the readiest fingers on the lyre; And like all heroines of tales and novels, She talked of sentiment and love in hovels. Her father was a man of the old leaven, And sat in state before his princely fire, Somewhat to talking large and loudly given, And somewhat easily aroused to ire; And wine, at night, made him still more loquacious, When the old gentleman was quite pugnacious. But Isabelle was quite a peerless creature, Not over prodigal of smiles; indeed There dwelt a seriousness in every feature Of her sweet face, whose meaning none might read ~But every hea$ throbbed faster as her eye Dwelt on its owner in vacuity. But Isabelle was kindfor when they brought her News that a knight for her was raving mad, Of various remedies the maid bethought her, And ransacked all the medicines she had: And finally the knight was put to bed, Where his leech let him blood, and shaved his head. The lady was the image of her mother, And (strange as it may seem) the father loved His kabelle f~o~ this; he had no other Delight like that of gazing on her, moved By conjugal affection,a strange passion The phrase is obsolete, but once in fashion. The poor old gentleman, although of rhyming As ignorant as I am, would sometimes Catch himself setting syllables a-chiming To praise his Isabelle, and these, his rhymes, Most commonly connected love and dove, Or, for the latter, substituted grove. 6 The Masked Cavalier. And once he gave carousal for three days, And then assembled many a noble lover Of Isabelle de Valence; if the blaze Of Chivalry had ~wer her proud heart over, The fate of Semele had then been hers, Dazzled by diamonds, clasps and costly spurs. And Beauty was not wanting; many a youth That knelt before her, wore his own fair hair, Rich in its glossy curls, and love and truth Spoke from full many an eye of blue, and rare Persons of symmetry glanced gaily by In -dresses, broidered or a a s eye. Three days carousal! t was a glorious thing And so thought they who sat around the board With savory viands heaped; the limpid spring Was no great favorite with the castles lord, And, as he showed but little of the monk His guests, to compliment him, managed to get drunk. The second day was spent in preparation For a bal masqu~l in the great stone hall; The household ran about in trepidation To get things ready for the evening ball; And, as they always do in pressing cases, The rascals broke a score of lamps and vases. He who hath ever stood upon the stage At the rehearsal of a scenic play, And known the managers loquacious rage, When scenes went all ways but the one right way Viewed actresses look any way but sweet, Draw hard their breath, and stamp their little feet, Heard the hoarse call-boy for the players bawl, And heard those gentlemen refuse to come, Heard direst noises rising over all, A greasy fiddle and the thunder-drum, Yet seen all these discordant parts unite, And the whole play go smoothly off at night, He, who hath seen all this, will feel no wonder That, in the castle when the evening came, And the huge hall-doors slowly swung asunder, And thousand silver lamps with crimson flame Lit up the red rose garlands on the wall, No single charm was wanting in the hall. It seemed like magicthat delicious eve After a day of such unholy din There beat no heart so pensive as to grieve When Music struck her tinkling tamborine: Spurs clashed, chains jingled, maskers came and went Like creatures of a braver element. And there, bright sovereign of the realm of Beauty, Moved Isabelle, in look and garb, a Queen; At her light footstep, with instinctive duty, Plumed heads bowed lowOh! sunny seventeen, That was a triumph for thy girlish pride Worth all the splendor of an Eastern Bride. The Masked Cavalier. 7 The feast beginsthe cups of silver chased, Blush with the welcome glow of generous wine, And fairer lips before had never graced The rosy produce of the Bhenish vine: With careless grace the moments fled away, Winged by the young girls Laugh, the minstrels roundelay. Off with your envious masks! Clash cup to cup! Pour the red wine, and be the glad pledge given! Who scorns to raise his mask and goblet up Shall meet no smiles in Beautys earthly heaven! Off with disguise! The maskers, at the call, Bid the dark cloak unfold, and let the vizard fall. But soft! yon gallant sits, with crimson cloak Folded about his form from throat to heel When entered he, or when the silence broke That shuts his lips as with a magic seal? Will he not doff his mask? By Heaven, no! And all his courtesies are in dumb show. None knew the stranger but the castles lord, Through whom, t is said, it privately transpired, That he was~ master of a mighty hoard, In foreign lands and furious wars acquired; But be that as it may, our annals tell He paid assiduous court to Isabelle. Her father gave him leave, but swore that she Should listen or be distant, as her will, Her own sweet will should lead her; on lifes sea, None but fair winds her silken sails should fill. The metaphor was somewhat trite, but he Thought it a master-piece of imagery. But ere the charnj of the carousal broke, On the last day, the tilting-yard was cleared The tournament would be too tough a joke For modern times; but then to wear a beard And handle not a knightly lance, was very Like writing one an ass, with Old Dogberry~ The lists presented then a gallant scene, And here the stranger showed great skill at pounding He wore an armor of glazed bottle-green, And golden spurs at every stamp resounding; He showed a handsome form, and, ladies said, Was unique in his style of hammering a head. And from that time our peerless Isabelle Heard with delight the stranger knights guitar, Sweet as boy Mercurys resounding shell, And listened to his glowing tales of war. But when she would have seen his face, he cried, This vizard none shall raise except my bride. Ah! luckless Isabellethe words are spoken That give consentthe secret is no more The mask is offthe hidden spell is broken, And bright Imaginations reign is oer. A hideous face, half monstrous and half human, Smiled, a~ the serpent smiled on the first woman~ 8 Is a Belief in Ghosts consistent with Reason? Light up the bridal hall! Bring forth your flowers, And from the convent-steeple peal a chime! For Hymen comes, lord of Earths secret bowers, Monarch of May-dreams in the young spring-time; Serfs, to the hall monks, to the bridal bell! Joy to the many !none for Isabelle! Alas for woman! woman, last and first! The aged dame, the girl of yesterday, The beggar and the queen, the best, the worst, She of the house of God, the house of play, Gentle and simple, they are no more wise To-day than when they lost us Paradise. This is no novelty; the tale s as old As the primeval pillars of the world; T will last until the future shall have rolled Its awful curtain uptill Death is hurled On the last man of woman bornand day Turns, shuddering to darkness and decay. Alas, for Isabelle! She was the mother Of many boys before her sand was run ; One pea is not more closely like another Than to his ugly sire was each swart son. So, husbands, when hard pushed for repartee, Relate this story as rehearsed by me. IS A BELIEF IN GHOSTS CONSISTENT WITH REASON? WHAT is a belief in ghosts, what are ghosts, and what is reason? These are questions that naturally arise in the mind when the more general one, now offered for discussion, is presented, and it may con- duce to a clear comprehension of the subject to attempt a reply to these preliminary interrogatories. What, then, is a belief in ghosts? Belief, in the abstract, is the assent, conviction, and confidence of the mind; and may have refer- ence to something that has been, now is, or that will be; or to some- thing that does not include the notion of time at all. A belief in ghosts, therefore, may be the confidence which the mind reposes, either in the fact that they have appeared in former ages; that they do still appear in our own times; that they will hereafter be seen; or, the idea of time being entirely set aside, that ghosts may exist and appear. But,pray, what is a ghost? Is it matter or mind; shadow or sub- stance; corporeal or incorporeal? It would take too long to give a full definition of what is commonly understood by a ghost, and, per- haps, all have not the same notion on this subject. It will be suf- ficient to say that a ghost is commonly supposed to be the resemblance of a deceased person, or the corporeal appearance of a disembodied

Is a Belief in Ghosts Consistent with Reason? Original Papers 8-13

8 Is a Belief in Ghosts consistent with Reason? Light up the bridal hall! Bring forth your flowers, And from the convent-steeple peal a chime! For Hymen comes, lord of Earths secret bowers, Monarch of May-dreams in the young spring-time; Serfs, to the hall monks, to the bridal bell! Joy to the many !none for Isabelle! Alas for woman! woman, last and first! The aged dame, the girl of yesterday, The beggar and the queen, the best, the worst, She of the house of God, the house of play, Gentle and simple, they are no more wise To-day than when they lost us Paradise. This is no novelty; the tale s as old As the primeval pillars of the world; T will last until the future shall have rolled Its awful curtain uptill Death is hurled On the last man of woman bornand day Turns, shuddering to darkness and decay. Alas, for Isabelle! She was the mother Of many boys before her sand was run ; One pea is not more closely like another Than to his ugly sire was each swart son. So, husbands, when hard pushed for repartee, Relate this story as rehearsed by me. IS A BELIEF IN GHOSTS CONSISTENT WITH REASON? WHAT is a belief in ghosts, what are ghosts, and what is reason? These are questions that naturally arise in the mind when the more general one, now offered for discussion, is presented, and it may con- duce to a clear comprehension of the subject to attempt a reply to these preliminary interrogatories. What, then, is a belief in ghosts? Belief, in the abstract, is the assent, conviction, and confidence of the mind; and may have refer- ence to something that has been, now is, or that will be; or to some- thing that does not include the notion of time at all. A belief in ghosts, therefore, may be the confidence which the mind reposes, either in the fact that they have appeared in former ages; that they do still appear in our own times; that they will hereafter be seen; or, the idea of time being entirely set aside, that ghosts may exist and appear. But,pray, what is a ghost? Is it matter or mind; shadow or sub- stance; corporeal or incorporeal? It would take too long to give a full definition of what is commonly understood by a ghost, and, per- haps, all have not the same notion on this subject. It will be suf- ficient to say that a ghost is commonly supposed to be the resemblance of a deceased person, or the corporeal appearance of a disembodied Is a Belief in Ghosts consistent with Reason? 9 spirit, addressing itself always to the eye, and sometimes to the ear, the feeling, and the smell. A ghost has form, dimension, color; it sometimes speaks; it sometimes chills you with its touch; and not unfrequently regales you with the perfumes of sulphur. The next question is, What is reason? The answer to this ques.. tion has not a little to do with our discussion. Reason is the faculty, by which we examine the weight of testimony by which past occur- rences are proved; the truth of what is said to be now in existence; the arguments which render p~obable or improbable a future event; and the amount of belief to be given to an abstract proposition, ac- cordingly as it may be philosophical or unphilosophical. Our path cleared of obstructions, we now proceed to the main 9ueS- tion, on the decision of which hang consequences so important; pre.. mising however, that we shall confine ourselves to the abstract prop.. osition, and not inquire whether our grandmothers did, actually, see, hear, feel, or smell, these mysterious existencies; or whether they are now seen in church-yards, old castles, and haunted houses. A brief summary of the several arguments on both sides of this controverted subject, may aid our inquiries; we will therefore endeavor to present one as impartially as possible. Those who defend the rationality of the doctrine of supernatural appearances, seem to rely upon the following arguments, viz. 1st. That the universal consent of mankind has been given to this doctrine. 2d. That the belief is a necessary result of the universal notion of the souls existence after death, combined with our regard towards departed friends, or with the torture of a guilty conscience. 3d. That philosophy authorises us to believe in a gradation of being, from mere man upward to the majesty of Omnipotence. 4th. That these existences may well be considered a part of the agency concerned in the administration of the will of Providence. To thesc arguments it is replied by the enemies of ghosts, 1st. That universal consent cannot justify belief in error. 2d. That the belief in ghosts is not a necessary result of a belief in the souls immortality. 3d. That the appearance of a disembodied spirit to mortal organs is a philosophical solecism. 4th. That these existences and appearances are not necessary to the perfection of the divine government. And here they respectively rest their defence. Let us examine some of these arguments more in detail. 1st. It is certainly a very imposing fact, that all nations, in all ages, have, as Cicero de Divinatione declares, placed perfect reliance on the truth of this doctrine of ghosts. We may well hesitate before we condemn the opinions of the whole family of man; and inquire how it happens that they have so generally united in this belief. The reply that error cannot be sanctified by time, or universal adoption, is fal- lacious. Prove that this belief is erroneous, or that the whole family of humanity ever did persevere unitedly five thousand years in error, before you attempt to overthrow so plain an argument by mere in- sinuation. Whence is it, then) that our race have derived these notions ~ VOL. ii. 2 10 Is a Belief in Ghosts consistent with Reason? 2d. And here comes in the second point in the reasoning of those who defend the doctrine. This belief in ghosts, say they, results from that foundation of every mans creed, the belief in the immortality of the soul, combined with our sentiments for persons deceased. This is undoubtedly true. God has implanted in every mans bosom a consciousness of his immortal nature, so strong that argument can neither shake nor con- firm it. It is an elemental principle; a self-evident truth in mental philosophy; and so universally felt that there has never yet been found a people so brutal as not to possess it. Certainly, we liav~ no credible account of any people who Were destitute of the idea of post mortem existence. It is only in the refinement of civilized scepticism that it has been doubted, and those individuals, who have thus scorned the lessons of nature, are to be considered as morally insane. Now, as men believed this from the first, and knew that the spirits of their friends, when departed from the body, must still continue somewhere to exist, it was but natural for them to hope that they re- mained hovering about those who yet lived; taking deep interest in their welfare; sighing over their misfortunes and rejoicing in their suc- cess; or, at times, giving notice of their own presence, and testify- ing their own interest by the music of spiritual voices, or by visions of love and beauty. There is not a more beautiful or touching idea than this, in the whole world of poetry; nor is there to be found a more pathetic or perfectly natural picture of human feeling, than that given by Xenophon in his life of Cyrus, when, at the closing hour of his illustrious life, the parent summons his children around him:, and,. after enjoining on them the performance of duty, commands them to continue to love each other, and ever bear in mind that their father~s spirit is by their side, to rejoice in their~obedience and prosperity, or lament their disobedience and downfall. How powerful must be the influence of such a belief:, over the con- duct; a belief that the shades of our departed ancestors are the wit- nesses of every action! And how wisely did the Roman custom of preserving in their porches the busts of their fathers, enforce,, by vis- ible signs, the influence of this opinion! Equally natural was it for him, who had violated any of those great laws of conscience which are universal, to expect with dread some manifestation of the anger of the Deity; the visitation of a frowning ancestor roused from the dust by the crime of his descendant; or the haunting vision of the murdered victim, coming in shapes of horror to harrow up his soul, and pursue him even down to the very grave, from whose unquiet slumblers the phantom had risen to re- venge. Oh, many and many, before the conscience-smitten Macbeth, have shrieked in agony Shake not thy gory locks at me ! 3d. To this it is replied, that the appearance of disembodied spir- its to mortal organs is philosophically an absurdity. But this objec- tion, if it prove any thing, proves too much. Were it allowed, it would destroy our faith in those angelic visitations of which scripture so often speaks; inasmuch as the angels are ministering spirits, and, sometimes, as in the vision of John at Patmos, the spirits of those who were once men. Is a Belief in Ghosts consistent with Reason.? 11 Even if we had not this scriptural proof, philosophy would furnish ~ sufficient answer to the argument. It would teach us that we know far too little of the spiritual world, to affiriu the impossibility of the sensible apparition of spirits; that man is nor competent to decide on the powers and capabilities of the soul when it has left its earthly prison. Conjecture is by no means proof. And, moreover, it seems as absurd to say, or suppose, that a spiritual essence cannot address itself to sensation) as to aver that spiritual existences can have no per- ception of material beings; and surely no one will be willing thus to destroy the power of communication between the worlds of mortality and immortality. No one will dare to say that the soul, when loosed from the organs of flesh, has lost forever the power of communing with material objects. Before we reject, as absurd, the idea of mans holding converse by means of his fleshly organs, with the beings of the incorporeal uni- verse, let us inquire whether the well known phenomena of sensation do not warrant that belief. Nothing is more true, or more commonly known, than that the keenness of sensations and perceptions depends on the state of the mind. Thus, when attention is fixed on one class of objects, another class may be brought in contact with the organs of sense, and yet awaken no mental perception. The clock may strike while we are engaged in an amusing or engrossing conversa- tion, aiad yet the ear convey no report to the mind. During the bat- tle of Thrasymenes, an earthquake shook all Italy, and not one Ro- man or Carthagenian soldier felt the concussion.* So when a large assembly are operated upon by popular feelings, they are insensible of the crowding, and jostling, and bruising, which they suffer; and pickpockets, without perhaps reflecting on the soundness of their phi- losophy, shrewdly avail themselves of such times to carry on their depredations. Any one sense, to whose report the attention is specially turned, is thus made far keener than ordinary, and will, if it be the eye, discover objects more min~pte, and at a greater distance; or if it be the ear, will gather sound more faint and far more definitely, than in common we should conceive to be possible. If there be excited a strong passion in the mind, the sensibility of the peculiar organ ne- cessary to be then used, is vastly increased,thus exhibiting the dependence of the physical organization on mental operations. And in view of these facts, is it not philosophical to conclude, that if the mind he wrought up to a certain pitch of expectation and at- tention, the bodily organs will obey their general law, and be pro- portionably keener in perception, even to the beholding of incorpo~~ real existences? Who shall take upon himself to say that the dying saint hears not the anthem of heaven welcoming his approach to the city of the blessed? Who will venture to doubt that the Judean shepherds listened with rapture to the angelic message of peace on earth and good will to men ? Who shall question the truth of that surpassing vision of the glories of heaven, the approaching terrors of the latter days, and the splendor of the New-Jerusalem, which burst on the view of the rapt Evangelist in his island prison? * See Plutarch. 12 Is a Belief in Ghosts consistent with Reason? And after all this, there is another view to be taken of the subject. It isthat if our own mind be convinced of the truth and reality of its perceptions, others have no right to question them. For certainty, whether it be gained by the medium of the senses, or without them, is the ultimate stage of mental process; and when we are once con- vinced, we can get no farther. All questions, therefore, of the possi- bility or impossibility of the fact being as we are persuaded it is, are entirely nugatory and useless. The third and fourth arguments employed by those who act as ghost advocates, are that the notion of gradation in being is truly philoso- phical, and that we may consider the existences now in dispute, as helping to complete the great system of divine agency These arguments are worthy of attention, whether we consider their high poetical beauty, or the dignity of their subject. The mind dwells at once, with delight and awe, on the idea of one continued chain of being, rising from the animated dust of earth, upward to the ineffable glories of the Deity. And although the narrow limits of human knowledge prevent us from tracing up the chain, unbroken, from the microscopic insect to the universal Father, yet we know enough of the gradation of earthly natures, and of the inhabitants of heaven, the two extremes of the scale of being, to justify us in filling up the chasm. We are not at liberty to doubt that, in a multitude of cases, supernatural agencies have been employed, and that spiritual beings have appeared; nor can it be argued that the circumstances, under which these revelations took place, do not now and never will occur. To say this would be arrogance ;for no one can boast so familiar a knowledge of the high purposes of Heaven, or so intimate an acquaintance with the laws of the universe, as to enable him to decide so mysterious a question. Nor is it an argument of weight to say that the agency of ghosts is not necessary to the system of Gods government. We know not the nature of the means which he uses, nor the modes of this operation. And shall we venture into the secret counsels of the Almighty, to offer the insignificant aid of our own wis- doin, and pass judgement upon the measures of Heaven? Let human nature be content to study the will of the Deity, and obey the laws by which the universe is governed. We think, from all that has been said, the inference may be fairly drawn, that a belief in ghosts is not inconsistent with reason. In conclusion, we remark, that there is one fact before which, we fancy, the advocates of the present appearance of ghosts can with difficulty stand; an~I we will mention it in order to sustain our char- acter of candor in this controversy. it is that, as man has risen from a state of barbarism into civilization; as mind has gained new light and strength from better cultivation and increased knowledge; and, above all, as our holy religion has spread its kingdom over the hu- man heart,the belief in demons, and witchcraft, and ghosts, has faded away, until, in our age, (and we may well make it our boast,) this last lingering fiction of the brain, as it has been beautifully named, has almost gone down to oblivion. Rejoicing that it is so, we conclude in the quaint language of Reginald:Scot., awriter ofthe age of Queen Elizabeth. The American Colonization Society. 13 In our childhood our mothers maids have so terrified us with an ugly devil having horns on his head, fire in his mouth, and a tail at his back; eyes like a basin, fangs like a dog, claws like a bear, a skin like a negrt, and a voice roaring like a lion, whereby we start and are afraid when we hear one cry Boh! and they have so frayed us with bull-beggars, spirits, witches, urchins, elves, hags, fairies, satyrs, pans, fauns, sylvans, kitt-with-the-candlestick, tritons, cen- taurs, dwarfs, giants, imps, calcars, conjurors, nymphs, changelings, incubus, Robin-Goodfellow, the spoorn, the man-in-the-oak, the hell. wain, the fire-drake, the puckee, Tom Thumb, Hobgoblin, Toni Tumbler, Boneless, and such other bug-bears, that we are afraid of our own shadows; insomuch that some never fear the devil but on a dark night; and then a polled sheep is a perilous beast, and many times is taken for our fathers soul, specially in a chnrch-yard, where a right handy man heretofore durst not to have passed by night, but his hair would stand upright. Well, thanks be to God, this wretched and cowardly infidelity, since the preaching of the gospel, is in part forgotten, and doubtless the rest of these illusions will, in a short time, by Gods grace, be detected aiid vanish away.# NOEL. THE AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY. rThe editors do not wish to be considered as advocates for the plan proposed in the following article, nor even as converts to the opinion of the writer. The presumption that it represents the feelings and wishes of many respectable individuals, and a willingness to surrender our right to reject what may possibly promote a beneficial result, have induced us to admit it into our pages. If a reply should be sent, written in a temper equally moderate, and of no greater length, we shall feel obliged to insert it; but we should not feel disposed to snake the Magazine a channel for a protracted controversy on this or any other subject.] THIs is an institution of no ordinary importance; its purposes involve nothing less than the expatriation of an entire people, and it is now our part to inquire whether their consummation be practicable or desirable. We are aware that the Colonization Society is a favor- ite of the nation, and that our view of it is exceedingly unpopular; but we shall not therefore shrink from the discussion. If the scheme be of God, as its excellent originator expressed himself no force of argument can prevail against it; but if the contrary be the case, as we believe, it ought to be brought before the public in its true light. The American Colonization Society was founded in 1816, by the Rev. Robert Finley, of New-Jersey, and its first meeting was held in Washington. No active measures resulted from its organization till, in the year 1818, two clergymen sailed to Africa in quest of informa- tion on which the future operations of the board might be based. In 1820 the societys agent and two agents for the government of the United States followed them, with eighty more emigrants. The first location of the colony was so ill chosen that twenty-seven of this party, * Reg. Sc. Dis. of Witchcraft. B. viii. ch. 15. I

The American Colonization Society Original Papers 13-23

The American Colonization Society. 13 In our childhood our mothers maids have so terrified us with an ugly devil having horns on his head, fire in his mouth, and a tail at his back; eyes like a basin, fangs like a dog, claws like a bear, a skin like a negrt, and a voice roaring like a lion, whereby we start and are afraid when we hear one cry Boh! and they have so frayed us with bull-beggars, spirits, witches, urchins, elves, hags, fairies, satyrs, pans, fauns, sylvans, kitt-with-the-candlestick, tritons, cen- taurs, dwarfs, giants, imps, calcars, conjurors, nymphs, changelings, incubus, Robin-Goodfellow, the spoorn, the man-in-the-oak, the hell. wain, the fire-drake, the puckee, Tom Thumb, Hobgoblin, Toni Tumbler, Boneless, and such other bug-bears, that we are afraid of our own shadows; insomuch that some never fear the devil but on a dark night; and then a polled sheep is a perilous beast, and many times is taken for our fathers soul, specially in a chnrch-yard, where a right handy man heretofore durst not to have passed by night, but his hair would stand upright. Well, thanks be to God, this wretched and cowardly infidelity, since the preaching of the gospel, is in part forgotten, and doubtless the rest of these illusions will, in a short time, by Gods grace, be detected aiid vanish away.# NOEL. THE AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY. rThe editors do not wish to be considered as advocates for the plan proposed in the following article, nor even as converts to the opinion of the writer. The presumption that it represents the feelings and wishes of many respectable individuals, and a willingness to surrender our right to reject what may possibly promote a beneficial result, have induced us to admit it into our pages. If a reply should be sent, written in a temper equally moderate, and of no greater length, we shall feel obliged to insert it; but we should not feel disposed to snake the Magazine a channel for a protracted controversy on this or any other subject.] THIs is an institution of no ordinary importance; its purposes involve nothing less than the expatriation of an entire people, and it is now our part to inquire whether their consummation be practicable or desirable. We are aware that the Colonization Society is a favor- ite of the nation, and that our view of it is exceedingly unpopular; but we shall not therefore shrink from the discussion. If the scheme be of God, as its excellent originator expressed himself no force of argument can prevail against it; but if the contrary be the case, as we believe, it ought to be brought before the public in its true light. The American Colonization Society was founded in 1816, by the Rev. Robert Finley, of New-Jersey, and its first meeting was held in Washington. No active measures resulted from its organization till, in the year 1818, two clergymen sailed to Africa in quest of informa- tion on which the future operations of the board might be based. In 1820 the societys agent and two agents for the government of the United States followed them, with eighty more emigrants. The first location of the colony was so ill chosen that twenty-seven of this party, * Reg. Sc. Dis. of Witchcraft. B. viii. ch. 15. I 14 The American Colonization Societ~y. including the three agents, fell victims to the climate within a few weeks of their arrival. However, the friends of the society were not discouraged, and another exportation of free blacks took place the following year. The climate proving absolutely incompatible with human life, the settlers were removed to Sierra Leone, where they remained for a short time by the sufferance of the British colonial authorities. Here the same mortality prevailed. Two of the new agents perished among others. After much difficulty the natives were persuaded to cede a tract of land about and including Cape Montse- rado, which became the permanent site of the colony, and received the name of Liberia. The emigrants had here to contend with the malignity of the climate, and the enmity of the natives, who attacked them repeatedly and had well nigh extirpated them in 18252. Since that time about a hundred emigrants have been sent to Liberia an- nually. Much discrepancy exists in the accounts of the country about the settlement. The friends of the Colonization Society represent it as every way favorable to their undertaking. Its enemies represent the climate as mortal, and the natives as powerful and irreconcileably hostile. Something like the truth may, perhaps, be gained from the statement of the progress of the colony which we shall give hereafter. We can only learn the principles and purposes of the Colonization Society from their official reports, and from the pages of a periodical, entitled, the African Repository, which is their avowed and ac- knowledged organ. According to these authorities the principles of the institution are as follows~ 1. The Society contends that Africa, and not America, is the na- tive country of negroes born in this hemisphere. 2. It holds that the color of the blacks is, and will be, an insuper- able bar to their moral or political elevation while they remain in this hemisphere. This class, degraded in character, and miserable in condition, forever excluded by public sentiment, by law, and by a physical distinction, from the most powerful motives for exertion, & c. African Repository, vol. i. p. 34. 3. It confines its good or evil offices, as the case may be, to the free blacks, and we believe (having no evidence to the contrary) does nothing for the redemption of slaves. It, however, takes charge of slaves emancipated for the express purpose of deportation. 4. It contends that the presence of the blacks among us is a curse alike to themselves and us. 5. It holds out to its friends the prospects of communicating the blessings of civilization and Christianity to the natives of Africa. 6. It discourages emancipation, unless for the purpose of expatria- tion. Emancipation, with the liberty to remain on this side of the Atlantic, is an act of dreamy madness. See the 13th Annual Report. 7. It proposes that the black population of the United States shall ultimately be conveyed away through its means, and affirms that this is practicable. We could quote enough matter from the above-mentioned author- ties to substantiate these premises fifty times over; but we hope our readers will have confidence enough in our candor to excuse us from Tke A meiican Colonization Society. 15 ~ricumbering our pages, especially as these, the principles of the so- ciety, are matter of notoriety, and are in the mouth of every man. We believe the Colonization Society do not wish to remove any free negro by force, whether of arms or law. They propose to em- ploy persuasion only. This being the case, it was extremely bad policy to tell the blacks that Africa is their native land. These people love the country which disowns, contemns, and oppresses them, and which would fain thrust them forth as outcasts and aliens. With a feeling common to most people who live in unkind countries, they contend that the land of their birth is their home. The contrary assumption strikes them as supremely ridiculous. (We speak from personal knowledge.) They deny that they have any connection with Africa. They are almost to a man opposed to the project of emigration, and resolved to await the changes time may bring forth, here. They con- sider this doctrine as an affront, and it has done more to retard the operations of the society than any other cause. Each and every one of their conventions, and they have lately held many, has passed resolutions expressing the above sentiments, and some of them have declared that they will hold all who may consent to embark for Africa1 as traitors. We think they are right; this is their countrythey are governed by its lawsthey contribute their mite to its supportthey speak its languagehere they were bornhere their kindred abidethey know no other. It is as much their country as it is ours. Our ancestors came from Europe, theirs from Africa; but we see not how that cir- cumstance can affect the birth-right of either party. It is an insult to common sense to speak of sending them to their own country. That we are the greater number, and that their presence offends us, does not alter the case in the least. Suppose the negroes of Alabama, who are a large majority of the whole population, should become free, and immediately upon their emancipation should insist on sending their former masters to their own countrywhat would these last an- swer? The blacks wouW only be reversing the position of the Colo- nization Society. That the color of the free negroes is a very great obstacle to their improvement is undeniable; that this bar is insurmountable remains to be seen. The experiment has never yet been tried. The first blacks who came to New-England could bequeath to their children only an inheritance of ignorance, misery and degradation. No hand has been stretched out to aid them; on the contrary, they have not been permitted to help themselves. Prejudice has excluded them from the exercise of most of their civil rights, though the laws have made them our political equals. They have been denied the common privileges of education, and forbidden to associate with those by whose society their morals and intellects might have been improved. Under all these disadvantages, instead of wondering that they have done so little for themselves, we ought to be surprised that they have done any thing. Yet a very considerable change has taken place in their condition within the last twenty years. There are few of them now who are not at least able to read. Many of them have property, and very many are united with their white neighbors in church fellowship. 16 The American Colonization Society. They are beginning to acquire an esprit de corps, and to unite in effecting particular objects. Very many of them are able writers, as the proceedings of their conventions amply testify. Some of the re- ports of these bodies will not suffer by comparison with any similar documents which have of late been indited by whites. They have presses, devoted exclusively to their interests, and support them with great spirit. The columns of some of their papers are wholly, and all of them partly, filled with the productions of negroes. Without pretending that this kind of instruction is the best for them, we think ~ve may venture to affirm that it has its use, and that it rouses them to exertion. They are endeavoring to establish schools all over the coun- trythere has been one gathered in this city within a few weeks, and it is rapidly increasing. In a word, they have discovered that knowledge is power, and riches, and honor, and they are strenuously exerting themselves to acquire it. We very much doubt that color is the sole source of the universai prejudice against the descendants of Africa, though undoubtedly it has served to strengthen and perpetuate it. The name of negro has, in this country, always been associated with the idea of slavery, and the word slave is, and ever has been, a term of reproach all over the world. Our blacks are no longer slaves, and when vice and igno-. rance shall disappear from among them, will not the prejudice disappear also? Reasoning from analogy, we think it must. For more than a century, our pilgrim fathers held their Indian neighbors in. as much dislike as we now do the blacks. That feeling is no more. For ages, the Jews were as much despised, and as much degraded, in England, as ever the negroes were in Massachusetts. They now rank and mix with other subjects of the British crown. Christians residing in Ma- hometan states have even now but begun to emerge from the condition of our blacks. Color was not the foundation of pre~judiee in either of these instances, but the feeling was not therefore the less strong. These people have conquered the ill-will of their fellows by raising their own character. The gypsies, and the race called in Europe Cagots, Cretins, & c. have made no such change, and are now des- pised as much as they were three centuries ago. We think ~ve may take it for granted that the race, who left the colossal head of Memnon and the ruins of Thebes and Memphis, to tell of their glory and power, were not despised by their white co- temporaries, though their hair was as crisp and their noses were as flat as those of the Congoese now are. There is no prejudiee against Africans, in any part of Europe, where they have not been held in thraldom. Our remote Indians, far from regarding negroes with dis-. gust, admire their appearance exceedingly, till they discover that the whites hold them in slavery and contempt. If a stronger proof that our dislike is not wholly founded on color be needed, it may be found all over the union, in the number of persons of mixed blood. In the valley of the Mississippi, especially, the national prejudice has been so far overcome, that a very large proportion of the whole population, probably more than a third, are mulattoes. After all, the voice of interest is louder, and speaks more to the purpose, than reason or philanthropy. When a black merchant shall sell his goods cheaper than his white neighbor, he will have the most The American Colonization Society. 17 customers. When a black mechanic shall work cheaper and better than a white one, he will be more frequently employed. When a black lawyer shall have proved, by pleading for those of his own color, that he has a thorough knowledge of his profession, he will have white clients. The laws do not hinder the blacks from following any honest calling, and the cases we have supposed are, therefore, possible. If, two hundred years hence, the free negroes shall have made no ma- terial advance toward political equality, or having made a consider- able one, if the prejudice shall not have disappeared, we think it will then be time to adopt the sentiment of the Colonization Society, and to say that a black skin is a natural and therefore a just cause of offence. It seems to be admitted on all hands that the presence of slaves is a curse to our country, a drawback on our prosperity, which we would be rid of, could we discover the means. The slave-holders themselves concur in these sentiments. It needs no argument to prove that the slave states have more reason to wish their slaves in Africa, than the free ones to desire the removal of the free blacks. The condition of the slaves must necessarily be bettered by emigration, even should they perish in the process of acclimation; for death is surely preferable to hopeless thraldom. Why then do not the Colonization Society con- fer their benefits on those who need them most? Why do they over- look the many utterly wretched for the sake of the few who are but partially so? But it is now our business to inquire what reason we, the people of the free states, have to desire the removal of the black portion of our population. We do not believe that the presence of the free blacks is disadvan- tageous to us. They are too few to taint our blood, being but about half a million in all. These are almost all seamen, or daily laborers, and are as harmless and inoffensive as the whites of the same class~ We believe that their capacity to labor is equal. When they are gone, white men must hew our wood, draw our water, and perform our me- nial offices. They supply the place of so many whites, who may be spared for higher purpo~es. If their presence be a disadvantage, indeed, that disadvantage cannot become greater, for they do not in- crease in the same ratio with the whites. We have still room for them, certainly. They do not resist the laws, or interfere with us in any respect. They are too few to ~affect white laborers, materially, as it respects the chance of employment, and moreover, these last are mostly aliens, who have not the claim of being our fellow-countrymen. The free blacks do us some good and no harm. If they improve, their usefulness will increase; if they do not, we shall be none the worse. Why then should we drive so many humble and serviceable Helots from our soil? The answer will probably be that they are not satisfied with their lowly condition, that they are becoming more intel- ligent, and that they will communicate their discontent to the slaves. If this is not the motive of those who wish their removal, we can see no other. Were the effects of the proceedings of the Colonization Society confined to Africa, we should be among its warmest friends. That civilization and Christianity should take root and flourish, and over- spread that unhappy peninsula, must be the desire of every person of VOL. ii 3 18 The American Colonization Society. common humanity. Would to Heaven that such a consummation might take place! The cessation of the slave trade would be one blessed result. The cruel wars which keep that beautiful land deso- late woald ceasethe lion and the tiger would retire before the face of man the jungle would become a corn-fieldno future Captain Riley would tell how, when wrecked on the coast, he was evil-entreat- ed and haled away into captivity by the nativesthe fetiche tree would give place to the village spire, and the church bells would be heard instead of the conch and the war-horn. Above all, we should have repaired a million of wrongs. A glorious picture, indeed. ~And what are the means we employ to bring such things to pass I We do not send over men of talents and learning, (at least not many of them;) we do not send over artizans, we do not send over farmers. We send over yearly about a hundred men, women and children, confess- edly the most ignorant, the most helpless, and the most depraved among the lowest of our lowest class. These are not the persons to tame the wilderness, or convert the heathen. They cannot improve by associat- ing with each other. They must sink into the barbarism of the sur- rounding tribes unless preserved by the missionaries and other agents of the Society; and these, we are happy to say, have done much, and may do more. Since the Colonization Society commenced operations they have exported about two thousand blacks, of whom one fourth were slaves, emancipated for this express purpose. The colony has also received an accession of a few hundred blacks taken from slave ships captured on the coast. The colony has now two thousand inhabitants only, so that we must suppose that there is some truth in the accounts we have receiv- ed of the malignity of the climate, since it has devoured the whole natural increase of the emigrants, and the slaves by whom the settle- ment has been augmented, not to speak of the missionaries and agents whose bones rest in the soil of Liberia. In fact the progress of the colony has been backward, as far as it respects numbers. The original settlement of New.England was considered a desperate under- taking, yet the process of population was never retrograde, nor even stationary, for half the length of time the Colonization Society has been in operation. In short, the Society has altogether failed in one of its great objects, the civilization and conversion of Africa. All the industry and Christianity in Liberia has been oarried thither, and has there remained stationary, or worse, and all that has been carried thither is not to be found there now. Yet the good men who have taken it on themselves to watch and guard the exiles have not been idle. Liberia can boast of its gardens, and cultivated fields, of its church and its school. Let us hope that, the first dangers and difficulties attending the settlement of a new country being now overcome, the colonists may increase in numbers and prosperity. Let us hope that this small germ may give being to an independent and happy nation. The I)rincipal ground on which we object to the Colonization So- ciety is, that it holds up to the people of the United States hopes which can never be realized, and which tend to perpetuate the degra- d& tion of the blacks at home. By persuading the free negroes that The American Colonization Society. 19 they never can be happy or respected here, it extinguishes their hopes and better feelings, and takes away their motives for honorable exer- tion. The remote prospect, too, of a gradual but ultimately entire removal- of the race, serves to quiet the consciences of many who would otherwise endeavor to remove a great shame and scandal from the land. Let us now see if the means within the reach of the Society are adequate to remove the evil, or even any considerable part of it. There are two millions an(l a half of colored persons in the United States at the very least. Their annual increase has beeii estimated at fifty-six thousand. The expense of removing ~each individual is, according to the African Repository, thirty dollars. At this rate it would require 1,780,000 dollars to remove the increase of a single year. And could this be done yearly it would merely keep the black population stationary, supposing the emigrants to be taken from the mass indiscriminately, without regard to sex or age. The increase of the free blacks, alone exceeds eleven thousand an- nually. It would require 330,000 dollars to transport their increase for a single year, calculating the expense at the rate given by the So- ciety. Now the Society has never owned half that sum during the whole period of its existence. No great nation was ever depopulated by emigration, and were the negroes by themselves, they would constitute a great nation. Is Ire- land the less crowded, because of the many thousands she has cast on the shores of other lands? Her present condition may answer the question. To depopulate a country, the emigration must be greater than the increase. To get entirely rid of the black population, we must therefore ex- port more than the increase. Let us suppose a plan to effect this ob~ ject in any given time, thirty years for example. We must transport at least 100,000 per annum. This will cost us three millions of dol- lars a year. But it is useless to pursue the calculation further, since it is self-evident that the 1,780,000 dollars, which would be requisite to transport the mere increase, can never be raised. It is barely with- in the limits of possibility that the Society may ever be able to raise the sum required to transport the increase of the free blacks alone. If we say that it has expended 150,000 dollars since its existence began, we believe we shall exceed the truth; and it is by no means probable that its receipts will ever hereafter be materially augmented. The scheme has had the decided approbation of the American people ever since it was first devised; it has been constantly before the public, and has probably attained the maximum of its popularity. Our calculations above are based on the assumption that the owners of slaves would give them up willingly, without fee or reward. Unless that should take place, the price of transportation would be collected in vain. We leave it to our readers to judge whether such liberality can be expected. And if the government should consent to purchase a hundred thousand slaves annually for deportation, the expense would be twenty-three millions per annum, estimating their price at the mod- erate sum of two hundred dollars each. We also leave it to our readers, whether such an act of ultra legislation can be expected. Let us now see what the Colonization Society has done toward thinning the numbers of the negroes. It has been in operation four- 20 The American Colonization Society. teen years, and during that time has transported two thousand persons only, some trifle more than the increase of a fortnight. When we be- lieve that the ocean can be scooped dry with a bucket, we shall also believe that they can effect the change to which the public looks for- ward so confidently. On expressing our opinions on this subject, we have frequently been asked, what, had we the power, we would do with our black popula- tion? and this is a question more easily put than answered. On one point, however, we are decided ; we would make no attempt to remove the negroes; being firmly convinced that it is utterly im- practicable. That the members of the Colonization Society are good men, that they are actuated by the purest motives, we firmly believe; but we believe, as firmly, that their labors are misdirected, inasmuch as they tend to make us impatient under a misfortune which we must en- dure, and to foment and increase the already too great dislike of the two races to each other. The reasons which we have most often heard in favor of the con- tinuance of slavery are these. We acknowledge the criminality of the system in the abstract, we deplore its existence, and we would be rid of it if we could. But the evil was entailed on us by our fathers, and we are not responsible for it. We cannot, however, emancipate our slaves. They have not the habits which would fit them for free men ; they are ignorant of the arts of life; they are, moreover, shift- less and ignorant, and would probably perish of want, were they emancipated immediately. Add to this, that they smart under a sense of wrong, and would, perhaps, slay us for our pains. We can devise no means of a safe and gradual abolition, save those offered by the Colonization Society. We have not made these a subject of con- sideration but we hope they may answer the purpose. Finally, if we set them free, and if none of the above-mentioned evils come to pass, they. will remain in contact with us, which is very disagreeable; they will acquire power and property, and at last become half owners of all the southern states. This last consideration alone ought to be a con- clusive argument against eman9ipation, unless followed by emigra- tion. We are compelled here to beg the question; but we believe our readers will readily allow that these are the sentiments usually in the mouths of the advocates of the Colonization Society. We think it will not be hard to answer them all. We, the present generation, are not, indeed, answerable for the introduction of slavery; but, if any safe means to remove the curse should offer, and we do not avail our- selves of it, we shall stand with our fathers in the relation of the re- ceiver with the thief. How do we know that no such means can be devised? Have we ever sought for them? We have not; and the neglect is in itself highly criminal. The only scheme of the kind which has been offered to our acceptance is that of the Colonization Society, and the experience of fourteen years has proved that to be futile. Let us therefore seek some other. As we cannot get rid of our slaves, let us see how we can render their presence safe and tolerable to ourselves and to them. Here they are, and here they will remain, either as our friends or as our ene- mies. If we do not set them free, they will, ere long, at least try to The American Colonization Society. 21 s4it themselves free. The increasing intelligence of the free blacks begins to have its effect on them. The case is a crying one. The voice of insurrection reaches us on every wind. It is undeniable that the tranquility of the South is gone. She sends forth a voice of sor- row and lamentation, Ramah weeping for her children. It is to be feared that this is but the beginning of trouble. As it is, life is not secure; property has lost its value. Penal enactments and bloody retaliation only make the matter worse. The ignorance of the slaves is no securityit cannot continue. They are beginning to learn that all men axe born free and equal, and to act upon that knowledge. Insurrection after insurrection may be put down; the slaves would probably be defeated in a general servile war; but in the meanwhile what is the condition of the south? Every man has his hand on the sword. It is better that our brethren should give up their slaves, though their legal property, than that such a state of things should continue. Something must be done, and speedily. The slaves now maintain themselves and their masters too; it will be strange if they cannot maintain themselves alone. We cannot see how emancipation would relax their muscles or otherwise disqualify them from labor. It is true, there is some danger in immediate aboli- lion, but it seems to us that there is more in the continuance of slavery. If we give them freedom we shall have a claim on their gratitude; if we do not, they have every thing to hate, but nothing to love us for. Ead we not better give with a good grace what we cannot safely hold? Supposing such a change to be peaceably effected, the present gen- eration of slave holders need fear no material diminution of their im. portance. The negroes are laborers now; they would then be nothing more. The two parties would still be in the relative situations of master and servant. Why do not the legislatures of the slave states deliberate on meas- ures to cure the malady radically, instead of administering remedies which only give partial relief, and leave the system in a worse condi- tion than before? Abolish slavery, and the negroes have nothing to contend fordraw the bonds ciosir, and every further restriction, eviery stripe, is an additional incentive to revenge, a motive for insur- rection and massacre. Instead of wiping out the score of wrong, the slave-holders seem to be endeavoring, to put its discharge out of their own power. Policy, if not humanity, should suggest a different course. We are well aware of the present unfitness of the negroes to ex- ercise the rights of free men, or to possess the smallest political power. We believe that an instant, general abolition would involve them in very many difficulties. Yet, we think, that their condition would be bet- tered even by this measure. Which of ourselves would not prefer a life of freedom, though accompanied by every hardship human nature is capable of enduring, to the mere animal enjoyments of a life of hopeless servitude, ignorance and degradation? We are sometimes told, indeed, that the slaves are well treated, not over-wrought, fed, and comfortably clad, and that they would not be free if they could. We grant that this is true of a great many of them, but what then? The same things may be said of domestic cattle, and the slave, who feels thus, is no whit, morally, superior to his fellow slave, the horse or ox he drives. Biit this is not true of the great body of slaves. If they 22 The American Colonization Society. are generally well treated, contented, and happy, how is it that we find a dozen runaways advertised in every southern paper that reaches us, and how is it that these are most commonly identified by the scars of the whip? We think a safe method of gradual abolition may be devise4, which will injure neither the master nor the slave. Let us suppose that the slave-holders of a single state consent and agree to give freedom, ten years hence, to every slave, who) during that period, shall have been sober, industrious, and obedient. Suppose, that after that time, each planter shall divide his plantation among his freedmen, and allow them to cultivate it on shares, as his tenants. Let us suppose that freedom from personal violence and restraint is the sole reward of ten years of good behavior,will not the slaves still have the most powerful motive to exertion? Will it not be their interest to serve, and to be at peace with their masters? Will not this ten years training go far to remove their unfitness for freedom? Will this system injure either of the in- terested parties? The planter would neither part with his lands nor his income. He would only give up the market price of his slaves, and he would receive peace and safety in exchange. He would convert deadly enemies into friends, and, after all, would only relinquish what he has no moral right to retain, and what, in all probability, will otherwise be wrested from him, or from his posterity. Suppose that the legislature of this supposed state should then pass a law, admitting each freedman to all the further privileges of citizenship, five years after the date of emancipationprovided, always, the said freedman should be able to produce a certificate of his previous good conduct, and of his ability to read and write. Magistrates and min- isters of the gospel might be empowered to grant such certificates. Would not this system, or something like it, do away with all unchari- tableness on the part of the blacks, and silence the voice of insurrec- tion forever. It seems to us, that if the blacks be indeed men, ac- cessible to the common feelings of humanity, such a system would have an all-important effect on them. It would make the curse a blessing, and give our country two millions of useful citizens, instead of the same number of contented brutes and discontented foes who now burthen our soil. In half a century the United States would not be disgraced by the presence of a single slave, and probably this change would be effected in much less time. This scheme would indeed eventually make the blacks joint owners of the soil with the whites, and equal sharers of the powers of govern- ment. Why, if they qualify themselves for this situation, should it not be so? We believe no reason can be alleged why it should not, apart from their color. If an amalgamation of the two colors is dread- ed, is it not in rapid progress now? And if the negroes must remain on the soil, is it not better that they should remain as intelligent friends than as brutal enemies? We are often told, that we of the free states have no interest in the matter, and that we have no right to meddle with our neighbors, What- ever they may do. We hold that we have that right, and that we are interested. By buying the produce of slave labor, we do as much to perpetuate the system as the slave-holders themselves. We have guaranteed the existence of slavery, by acceding to the federal con- Hymn to Plutus. 23 stitution. We share the national reproach, and we are liable to be called on to suppress insurrection. The only difference between us and our southern brethren is, that we do not wield the scourge with our own hands, and that our lives are not in danger. And we have no interest to oppose such a change as we have suggested; for why should we care whether we buy our cotton and sugar from blacks or whites, if both sell at the same price? We have given our views of the Colonization Society, and of the practicability of extinguishing slavery in the United States, by other and speedier means than theirs. We rest the case here. V. HYMN TO PLUTUS. Imitated from the Greek. ALL-POWERFUL Wealth !before thy shrine, Humble and low I bow; Peace, Virtue, Conscience, I resign; Oh! listen to my vow! No deed so foul, no act so mean, That I will stop or shrink Wherever riches can be seen, I 11 follow to the brink; And though the precipice look down An hundred thousand feet, And Hell, with all its terrors, frown, And round the bottom beat ; Though signs from Heaven bid me beware, And Earth cry out, For shame! I 11 neither heed the lightnings glare, Nor dread my fellows blame ; But clasp the treasure to my heart, The dearer for its cost, And we will never, never, part, Till life itself be lost. Friendship and Love may both combine, Honor and Justice join, But for them both, I 11 not resign, One single copper coin. Oaths, the same day, I 11 take and break, Religion Ill not know, My heart shall never idly ache, With pangs for others wo. All-powerful Wealth !before thy shrine, Humble and low I bow, Peace, Virtue, Conscience, I resign; Oh, listen to my vow! z.

Hymn to Plutus Original Papers 23-25

Hymn to Plutus. 23 stitution. We share the national reproach, and we are liable to be called on to suppress insurrection. The only difference between us and our southern brethren is, that we do not wield the scourge with our own hands, and that our lives are not in danger. And we have no interest to oppose such a change as we have suggested; for why should we care whether we buy our cotton and sugar from blacks or whites, if both sell at the same price? We have given our views of the Colonization Society, and of the practicability of extinguishing slavery in the United States, by other and speedier means than theirs. We rest the case here. V. HYMN TO PLUTUS. Imitated from the Greek. ALL-POWERFUL Wealth !before thy shrine, Humble and low I bow; Peace, Virtue, Conscience, I resign; Oh! listen to my vow! No deed so foul, no act so mean, That I will stop or shrink Wherever riches can be seen, I 11 follow to the brink; And though the precipice look down An hundred thousand feet, And Hell, with all its terrors, frown, And round the bottom beat ; Though signs from Heaven bid me beware, And Earth cry out, For shame! I 11 neither heed the lightnings glare, Nor dread my fellows blame ; But clasp the treasure to my heart, The dearer for its cost, And we will never, never, part, Till life itself be lost. Friendship and Love may both combine, Honor and Justice join, But for them both, I 11 not resign, One single copper coin. Oaths, the same day, I 11 take and break, Religion Ill not know, My heart shall never idly ache, With pangs for others wo. All-powerful Wealth !before thy shrine, Humble and low I bow, Peace, Virtue, Conscience, I resign; Oh, listen to my vow! z. 24 SELECTIONS FROM THE VAPERS OF AN IDLER. NO. III. FEELING AND SENTIMENT. Tuis title does not exactly express the subject I propose to discuss. I wish to say a few words upon tw& very diflhrent modifications of that fheling of sympathy for one another, both in joy and sorrow, which is common to the whole human race. By Sentiment I mean to express the abstract of that idea of which sentimental is the concrete. It is keenly and vividly alive to whatever afflicts humanity, and if, by an act of volition, it could convert sorrow into joy, the exercise of this power would turn this world into a Paradise; but it shrinks from the toil, the privations and the sacrifices, which must be gone through, long after the thrilling impulse of charity has subsided, by him who would be a faithful laborer in the noble cause of humanity. It rather selects those forms of distress which have somewhat of a romantic beauty and in- terest, which are gratifying to the taste, and the contemplation of which may throw him into that luxurious and dream-like melancholy, which unnerves the soul and makes it unfit fbr efficient action; but lt recoils from the smoke, the dirt, the coarse language and the uncouth manners, which, in this world of stern realities, usually attend upon extreme want. Feeling, on the other hand, cares for none of these things. It flies to the relief of distress, in however offensive a shape it may appear. Its sensibilities are less keen, and its impulses less strong, than those of Sentiment, but its good d~e4~s are far more numerous and valuable. It relieves distress, partly-~& om a sense of duty, and partly from the exquisite gratification which it derives from so doing. It is entirely independent of taste; it is enough for it to know that there is a human being that can, by its efforts, be made happier, and it makes no difference, how disagreeable the suffering in- dividual may be, or how disgusting the situation in which he is placed. There is, also, another difference between them. The man of senti- ment may have his sensibilities called forth by a tale of distress, which the sober man of feeling listens to with cold indifference, because he knows it to be the result of indolence or vice; while, if it be unde- served, and the effect of uncontrollable circumstauces, he will give diligent heed to it, though it be of so common-place and every-day a nature, as not to awake the attention of the other at all. Sentiment is more vivid in its emotions, Feeling more lasting. Sentiment is often eloquent, where Feeling is silent; Sentiment often weeps, where Feeling appears unmoved. But by the next hour, Sentiment will have for- gotten all about it, while Feeling is busily occupied in contriving ways and means for speedy and effectual relief. There is a difference in the kinds of gratification which they seek after, and the motives which operate upon them. Sentiment loves to read or hear of distress, be- cause it gives it a sort of intellectual excitement, furnishes a spring and impulse to the mind, makes it more creative, and the tongue more eloquent. It feels a strong wish to relieve, but the wish itselg though ungratified, is a highly pleasurable sensation. Feeling, on the other hand, wants to do good; it is the heart that is stimulated, and not the Feeling and Sentiment. 25 mind; it is a source of pain to hear of afflictions which are out of its reach, it never thinks of sitting down and letting the imagination create, out of real sorrow, a succession of sad, yet delicious sensations. It, indeed, objects to such conduct on the score of principle. It vie~vs it as something akin to extracting food for laughter and amusement from the same source. Sentiment is eloquent at all public charitable meetings, where Feel- ing is a quiet listener; while Feeling is seen in the cold garrets and damp cellars, where some poor sufferer is left alone with his God to die, and where Sentiment, with its delicate nerves, would faint with horror. Sentiment will head a subscription paper with a glowing appeal in behalf of the distressed object, but Feeling will go about frow house to house to solicit contributions. Sentiment talks beautifully on the duties of charity, benevolence, and sympathy for misfortune, but Feeling practises them. Sentiment will weep with those that mourn, but Feeling comforts them. There are no subjects on which men are more apt to form erroneous opinions about each other, than those of good feeling, kindness of heart, and genuine sensibility. Many a one passes for a man of ex- quisite feeling, because he has a trick of speaking tremulously, and lachrymal glands which are easily excited. But words are as cheap as air, and tears cost but little to him who has the knack (as many have) of making them come when he will. The very man that you have been admiring and almost lamenting, as a creature of too soft a mould for the rude jars of this world, may be as heartless a being as ever spurned a beggar from his door, or broke his wifes heart with unkindness; while he who has provoked you by his silence and apathy may have a heart overflowing ~vith kindness to every living thing, and count that day lost in which he has not done some charitable deed. It always makes me a little suspicious to hear a man telling about how much he feels, and how distressing it is to have such acute sensibih. ties, and how much good he would do if he had money enough, or time enough, or health en~ugh. Give me the man that goes about the world doing good as noiselessly as some quiet stream, that makes a meadow green, in so modest a way, that the sun cannot see its waters nor the ear of the blind mole hear its babblings. Never set a man down as devoid of feeling because he listens to a moving tale with un- moistened eyes, and can tell one without uncontrollable emotion, nor the contrary. Go to a mans intimate friends, or rather to his own household, to learn whether he have warmth of heart and tenderness of feeling; for mere acquaintances are apt to make gross mistakes. Some one remarked to the wife of a celebrated wit, that her husband was the fiddle of every company where he was present. It may be so, said she, but he always hangs up his fiddle when he comes home. The same remark may be made of Feeling. Men often hang it up when they come home, and growl at their wives and storm at their children, with the same tongue that can discourse most mournful music, whenever there is an effect to be produced. I do not mean to deny Sentiment all merit whatever, nor to confound it with that nauseous sentimentality which may be seen in the writings of Rousseau, Kotzebue, and a host of others, and which appears to be no ways incompatible with the most complete heartlessness and the VOL. II. 4

Selections from the Papers of an Idler. No. III. Feeling and Sentiment Original Papers 25-29

Feeling and Sentiment. 25 mind; it is a source of pain to hear of afflictions which are out of its reach, it never thinks of sitting down and letting the imagination create, out of real sorrow, a succession of sad, yet delicious sensations. It, indeed, objects to such conduct on the score of principle. It vie~vs it as something akin to extracting food for laughter and amusement from the same source. Sentiment is eloquent at all public charitable meetings, where Feel- ing is a quiet listener; while Feeling is seen in the cold garrets and damp cellars, where some poor sufferer is left alone with his God to die, and where Sentiment, with its delicate nerves, would faint with horror. Sentiment will head a subscription paper with a glowing appeal in behalf of the distressed object, but Feeling will go about frow house to house to solicit contributions. Sentiment talks beautifully on the duties of charity, benevolence, and sympathy for misfortune, but Feeling practises them. Sentiment will weep with those that mourn, but Feeling comforts them. There are no subjects on which men are more apt to form erroneous opinions about each other, than those of good feeling, kindness of heart, and genuine sensibility. Many a one passes for a man of ex- quisite feeling, because he has a trick of speaking tremulously, and lachrymal glands which are easily excited. But words are as cheap as air, and tears cost but little to him who has the knack (as many have) of making them come when he will. The very man that you have been admiring and almost lamenting, as a creature of too soft a mould for the rude jars of this world, may be as heartless a being as ever spurned a beggar from his door, or broke his wifes heart with unkindness; while he who has provoked you by his silence and apathy may have a heart overflowing ~vith kindness to every living thing, and count that day lost in which he has not done some charitable deed. It always makes me a little suspicious to hear a man telling about how much he feels, and how distressing it is to have such acute sensibih. ties, and how much good he would do if he had money enough, or time enough, or health en~ugh. Give me the man that goes about the world doing good as noiselessly as some quiet stream, that makes a meadow green, in so modest a way, that the sun cannot see its waters nor the ear of the blind mole hear its babblings. Never set a man down as devoid of feeling because he listens to a moving tale with un- moistened eyes, and can tell one without uncontrollable emotion, nor the contrary. Go to a mans intimate friends, or rather to his own household, to learn whether he have warmth of heart and tenderness of feeling; for mere acquaintances are apt to make gross mistakes. Some one remarked to the wife of a celebrated wit, that her husband was the fiddle of every company where he was present. It may be so, said she, but he always hangs up his fiddle when he comes home. The same remark may be made of Feeling. Men often hang it up when they come home, and growl at their wives and storm at their children, with the same tongue that can discourse most mournful music, whenever there is an effect to be produced. I do not mean to deny Sentiment all merit whatever, nor to confound it with that nauseous sentimentality which may be seen in the writings of Rousseau, Kotzebue, and a host of others, and which appears to be no ways incompatible with the most complete heartlessness and the VOL. II. 4 26 Feeling and Sentiment. most abandoned profligacy in conduct. It is amusing to read the high-flown raptures of Rousseau, in his Nouvelle Heloise and in some parts of his Confessions, (particularly his account of his love for Madame dHoudetot, which is written with a fervor and glowing eloquence worthy of all admiration in a merely literary point of view,) when we recollect that he sent his own children to a foundling hos- pital as soon as they were horn. The man of Sentiment is not a heartless being. He feels strongly and vividly, but that very rapidity of fancy, which makes his emotions so keen, makes them also short- lived. While the glow is upon him, he will do almost any thing and make almost any sacrifice, but his ardor soon cools and he has not the steady perseverance to put in execution the plans he formed while the excitement lasted. If he be a rich man, he will give away a great deal of money, but he will do it~from impulse, and often inju- diciously; but if he be poor, he will not have the courage to give his time and personal attention, which is a far more important and less frequent kind of charity. There are two men of my acquaintance, of nearly the same age, property, and standing in society, one of whom is a man of Feeling, and the other a man of Sentiment. Sentiment is rather a more gifted man than Feeling, writes and talks well, and on no subject does he write or speak so often and so well, as on the duty of doing good to each other. Feeling never wrote a paragraph in the newspapers, nor spoke where ten people could hear him; but there is not a cellar or a garret in Broad-street, that he has not been into, and there are hundreds of people that pray for him every day of their lives. Senti- ment is the admiration of his acquaintances; Feeling, the delight of his friends. No better illustration can be given of the difference be- tween them, than was shown in their conduct on one particular occa- sion. A mutual friend of theirs had died suddenly, under circumstan- ces of peculiar affliction, and leaving a large family nearly destitute. Sentiment heard of his death as he was going to an evening party, where he spoke of his departed friend and of his irreparable loss to his widow and children, in such a way as to bring tears into the eyes of all who heard him; but in a short time the conversation turned upon other subjects, and Sentiment became as lively and entertaining as ever. Feeling also heard of it as he was going to this same party, and he turned about and went home, for he loved his friend too well to feel in the ~mood to join a gay crowd while he was yet unburied. The next day Sentiment sat down and wrote a beautiful letter to the be- reaved widow, while Feeling went about and collected a subscription for her use. Sentiment published an eloquent obituary notice of his friend, while Feeling paid his funeral expenses. Feeling adopted one of his sons, and educated him, while Sentiment named one of his own after him. I have two cousins, however, in whom the two qualities are more strikingly displayed than in any persons of my acquaintance. I shall call one of them by the familiar name of Mary, and the other by the more romantic one of Matilda, assigning to each an appellation some- what consistent with her character. Mary has a great deal of strong sense, uniform cheerfulness, and a fund of deep and quiet feeling. Matilda has more imagination, more liveliness, more enthusiasm and Feeling and Sentiment. 27 more sentiment. Mary is slow in forming attachments and is very constant to her old friends; but Matilda is apt to be bewitched with new faces, and repose confidence in those whom she soon finds to be unworthy of it. In literature their tastes are widely different. Matil- da hangs with rapture over the passionate dreamings of Byron, and the mystical speculations of Shelly, but Mary prefers the tenderness of Cowper, and the deep philosophy of Wordsworth. If Matilda could find out some beautiful being that was dying of a consumption, or a broken heart, or any such interesting disease, in a chamber tastefully adorned with flowers, and dressed in robes of spotless white, she would devote to her all her time and energies, and be the most assidu- ous of nurses, and the most sympathizing of friends; but she cannot endure smoky houses, unwashed children, nor any repulsive form of sickness. I remember very well how differently they behaved on an occasion when I happened to be present, when the wife of a poor sailor and the mother of many children, and who lived near them, rushed into the house with the utmost disorder of look and manner, and told them, with the passionate lamentation customary to persons in her rank of life, in circumstances of overwhelming grieg that she had just heard that her husband was lost at sea, ~vhen within two days sail of the harbor. Matilda was dreadfully overcome, and had nearly fainted, and on recovering, flew to her purse and emptied it into the womans lap, and then sat down and wept in helpless impotence. Mary, on the other hand, retained her self-possession throughout, and applied herself at once to the soothing and comforting of her afflicted and humble friend, and by suggesting to her reflections and consolations in a man- ner equally creditable to her judgement and her feelings, soon succeed- ed in converting the hysterical violence of grieg into a more calm and subdued state of feeling. And this was but the beginning of her good deeds. She made a decent suit of mourning for her, went about and procured situations for two or three of her children, and spoke of her case to some wealthy friends, with that eloquence which comes from the heart and goes to the heart, so that they became interested in her, relieved her present iiecessities, and provided her with the means of gaining a permanent livelihood. All this Matilda could not have done, though she would have loaded her with gifts if she had had the means. Mary had as limited means as her cousin; but how much good can be done by one who has a willing heart and a resolute spirit. These young ladies have a grandmother, who is somewhat in her dotage, and is, moreover, confined to her room by infirmities, and it is curious to see how unconsciously they display their different charac- ters by their treatment of her. Matilda is truly attached to her; often speaks of her with deep feeling, and is ready to do anything for her, and to contribute to her happiness in any way she can. She goes to see her almost every day, and lights up the invalids chamber, like a sun-beam, with her sweet looks. She delights to carry her flowers, pictures, or anything that will amuse her childish mind; but her lively fancy cannot endure the bald disjointed chat of the poor old lady. She is restless, and fidgets on her chair while she is in the room, and soon makes an excuse to be gone. But Mary regularly devotes a cer- tain portion of her time to her. She will read the newspaper to her by the hour together, and listen, without the least sign of impatience, to 28 Feeling and Sentiment. the thread-bare scandal that is half a century old, and to the pointless story that she knows already by heart. She will tell her, too, who is married, and who is engaged, and who have failed, and who has come into town, and who has gone out of it, and who have given parties, and who are going to,and, in short, empty the basket of gossip to its last chip. And she will do all this, though in addition to her excel- lent sense, she has a very vivid perception and keen enjoyment of the ludicrous. When they were both about seventeen years old, they heard of the death of a schoolfellow, whom they both fondly loved, from whom they had parted only about a year, and whose residence was only a days journey from their own. Matilda was almost heart-broken at her loss, and, in the touching language of Scripture, refused to be comforted. She hardly slept for several nights, and hardly tasted food for several days. She mourned for her friend long, as well as deeply, but her grief was of that stunning and absorbing nature, that it occupied her whole mind to the exclusion of every other image. Mary, though deeply afflicted, and disposed to yield to the torrent of grief which came over her, remembered, even in that trying hour, that h~r obliga- tions to duty yet remained. She thought of the mother and sisters of her friend, and said to herself, their sorrow is yet greater than mine. She flew to them on the wings of love. She soothed and consoled them. She took upon herself all those household duties for which they were unfitted, and so occupied herself that she was obliged to forego the luxury of tears, till she had retired to rest. She remained with them till the bitterness of their anguish was over, and then came home and resumed her own duties as quietly as if all she had done had been a matter of course. I recollect another instance where the difference in their characters was shown. A poor man, in the village where they reside, was slowly recovering from a disorder, which had confined him to the house for several months. The physician had recommended him to drink Ma- deira wine, and he might as well have prescribed nectar, so far as the sick mans ability to procure it was concerned. Matilda heard of it and gave up, to the charitable purpose of procuring him the wine, a sum of money which she had laid aside for the purchase of a new bonnet, and wore her old one another winter; and (I may remark, en passant) never did she look so beautiful to my eyes, as she did the next time I saw her with it on. On another occasion, this same sick man expressed a wish to have some particular delicacy, of which his family had not the ingredients, nor did they know how to make it. When Mary heard of it, she immediately sent a servant with the mate- rials to their humble abode, and soon followed herself and cooked the dish with her own hand, bending and toiling over their only fire as if she had been Sternes fat, foolish scullion herself. There is, in short, hardly a day in the year in which their peculiar traits do not man- ifest themselves. I have often seen Matilda stop and caress a beautiful child in the street, addressing it with a look and tone that the child always remembered; but I never shall forget seeing Mary, when I was once riding in the stage with her, hold in her lap for two or three hours, an infant that was neither clean nor pretty, to relieve its poor mother, who looked sick, and faint, and broken-hearted. And never The Employments of Death. 29 shall I forget the grateful look with which the woman expressed her thanks, telling her, with a manner and in language much above her appearance, that she hoped she would never be in a condition to receive the kindness that she had shown towards her. Such are my two cousins, each charming in her way, and I love them both with a truly cousinly affection, and if I were a fairy, each of them should marry a prince. But, perhaps, some fair reader may ask, suppose they were not your cousins, which of them should you pre- fer ? Why, in truth, that is one of that numerous class of questions, which are more easy to ask than to answer. But if I must give a reply, I should say, that I prefer a twilight walk in the woods with the ro- mantic Matilda, or to sit by her side in a summer evening when the rich moonlight is steeping, in its silver beauty, her dark hair and spiritual eyes,; but if I were going to select a companion to walk hand in hand with, through this vale of tears, I am pretty certain it would be the affectionate and kind-hearted Mary. THE EMPLOYMENTS OF DEATH~ Death cuts down all notli great and small. NEW-ENGLAND PalMER. The original of the following translation is an extract from an old French Poem, entitled, Le faut mourir et les excuses inutile, quon apporte & cette necessit~ Le tout en vers burlesques, 1658. It was, remarks the elder DIsraeli, in his second series of Curiosities of Literature, written by Jacques Jacqies, a canon of Ambrun, who humorously says of himself, that he gives his thoughts just as they lie on his heart, without dissimulation; for, I have nothing double about me except my name. I tell thee some of the most im- portant truths in laughing; it is for thee, dy penser tout & bon. The little volume, in which the poem appeared, must be a lLerary treasure; for it is to be procured only with great difficulty fcr the inspection of the curious. I MRING down to an equal state The counsellor and the advocate, The shepherd and the gentleman, The banker and the citizen, The mistress and her waiting maid, The niece, her aunta wrinkled jade The abbot and the monk so lowly, The little clerk and canon holy. I never hesitate, and wonder What people 1 shall make my plunder. I take one in his hour of grief; Another, in a space as brief, When he is ripe with joy and glee, Gets a terrible cuff from me. I take one as he lifts his head, Another, when he goes to bed; The well man and the sick I borrow, The one to-daythe other to-morrow. One, when with sleep his brain is muddy, Another, in his brownest study; One, in a ~ormandizing mood, Another, famishing for food. I seize one while he utters prayer, Another, just about to swear;

The Employments of Death Original Papers 29-30

The Employments of Death. 29 shall I forget the grateful look with which the woman expressed her thanks, telling her, with a manner and in language much above her appearance, that she hoped she would never be in a condition to receive the kindness that she had shown towards her. Such are my two cousins, each charming in her way, and I love them both with a truly cousinly affection, and if I were a fairy, each of them should marry a prince. But, perhaps, some fair reader may ask, suppose they were not your cousins, which of them should you pre- fer ? Why, in truth, that is one of that numerous class of questions, which are more easy to ask than to answer. But if I must give a reply, I should say, that I prefer a twilight walk in the woods with the ro- mantic Matilda, or to sit by her side in a summer evening when the rich moonlight is steeping, in its silver beauty, her dark hair and spiritual eyes,; but if I were going to select a companion to walk hand in hand with, through this vale of tears, I am pretty certain it would be the affectionate and kind-hearted Mary. THE EMPLOYMENTS OF DEATH~ Death cuts down all notli great and small. NEW-ENGLAND PalMER. The original of the following translation is an extract from an old French Poem, entitled, Le faut mourir et les excuses inutile, quon apporte & cette necessit~ Le tout en vers burlesques, 1658. It was, remarks the elder DIsraeli, in his second series of Curiosities of Literature, written by Jacques Jacqies, a canon of Ambrun, who humorously says of himself, that he gives his thoughts just as they lie on his heart, without dissimulation; for, I have nothing double about me except my name. I tell thee some of the most im- portant truths in laughing; it is for thee, dy penser tout & bon. The little volume, in which the poem appeared, must be a lLerary treasure; for it is to be procured only with great difficulty fcr the inspection of the curious. I MRING down to an equal state The counsellor and the advocate, The shepherd and the gentleman, The banker and the citizen, The mistress and her waiting maid, The niece, her aunta wrinkled jade The abbot and the monk so lowly, The little clerk and canon holy. I never hesitate, and wonder What people 1 shall make my plunder. I take one in his hour of grief; Another, in a space as brief, When he is ripe with joy and glee, Gets a terrible cuff from me. I take one as he lifts his head, Another, when he goes to bed; The well man and the sick I borrow, The one to-daythe other to-morrow. One, when with sleep his brain is muddy, Another, in his brownest study; One, in a ~ormandizing mood, Another, famishing for food. I seize one while he utters prayer, Another, just about to swear; 30 Domestic Architecture, One at his table richly spread, Between the white wine and the red; Another, in his oratory, Who gives to God all praise and glory. I frighten one away from life, The very day he gets a wife; Another, with deep sorrow bowed, To see his loved one in her shroud. One a walking, another a prancing, One a playing, another a dancing One, who is eating, but never is thinking, Another, who eats not, but always is drinking; One, who pays for his purchases quick, Another, who pays not, but goes upon tick; One, who gathers the golden grain, That summer strews on the fertile plain; Another, who reaps the loaded vine, When autumn sunbeams softly shine; One., who raises the lusty cry Of buy my new Almanacs, come and buy! Anotherbut I need not tell What every hour can witness well. I take him who by begging lives, Alike with him who freely gives. The patient I deprive of motion, The day he drinks a healing potion; And, best of all, the doctor dies, With a huge fee before his eyes! P. DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE. GENTLE READER! Wert thou ever so far forsaken by thy good Genius, as to be left to build a house? If thou hast not been, thank thy stars most devoutly that thou hast been spared, and pray that the mania a domu may never seize thee. If, however, thou hast, like us, been en- gaged in racking thy brains, fretting thy patience, and exhausting thy purse, to bring into being a pile of timber, and brick and mortar, bear- ing the cognomen of a House, thou needest not be told, that Architec- ture furnishes a vast theme for solemn reflection. There was a sublime moral in the message which Marius sent back to Rome from amidst the ruins of Carthage; but if the reflections were solemn, which were awakened amidst the crumbling walls, the prostrate columns, the silent streets, and the desolate market-places of that once proud city, after these had once served the purposes of their crea- tion, and been the abodes of elegance and grandeur, and the mart of wealth, what must be the troubled ruminations of him, who, amidst scattered lumber, shapeless piles of bricks, deep excavations in the earth, and unsightly masses of unhewed stone, sits down to plan out how these discordant elements shall be fashioned into form; and how infinitely less grating to a delicate ear, is the silence that broods over the ruined domes of a depopulated city, than the discordant din and ring of hammers, and axes, and trowels, mingled with the hoarse bawl of the master and the men, in the dreadful process of giving to these materials a habitation and a name!

Domestic Architecture Original Papers 30-36

30 Domestic Architecture, One at his table richly spread, Between the white wine and the red; Another, in his oratory, Who gives to God all praise and glory. I frighten one away from life, The very day he gets a wife; Another, with deep sorrow bowed, To see his loved one in her shroud. One a walking, another a prancing, One a playing, another a dancing One, who is eating, but never is thinking, Another, who eats not, but always is drinking; One, who pays for his purchases quick, Another, who pays not, but goes upon tick; One, who gathers the golden grain, That summer strews on the fertile plain; Another, who reaps the loaded vine, When autumn sunbeams softly shine; One., who raises the lusty cry Of buy my new Almanacs, come and buy! Anotherbut I need not tell What every hour can witness well. I take him who by begging lives, Alike with him who freely gives. The patient I deprive of motion, The day he drinks a healing potion; And, best of all, the doctor dies, With a huge fee before his eyes! P. DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE. GENTLE READER! Wert thou ever so far forsaken by thy good Genius, as to be left to build a house? If thou hast not been, thank thy stars most devoutly that thou hast been spared, and pray that the mania a domu may never seize thee. If, however, thou hast, like us, been en- gaged in racking thy brains, fretting thy patience, and exhausting thy purse, to bring into being a pile of timber, and brick and mortar, bear- ing the cognomen of a House, thou needest not be told, that Architec- ture furnishes a vast theme for solemn reflection. There was a sublime moral in the message which Marius sent back to Rome from amidst the ruins of Carthage; but if the reflections were solemn, which were awakened amidst the crumbling walls, the prostrate columns, the silent streets, and the desolate market-places of that once proud city, after these had once served the purposes of their crea- tion, and been the abodes of elegance and grandeur, and the mart of wealth, what must be the troubled ruminations of him, who, amidst scattered lumber, shapeless piles of bricks, deep excavations in the earth, and unsightly masses of unhewed stone, sits down to plan out how these discordant elements shall be fashioned into form; and how infinitely less grating to a delicate ear, is the silence that broods over the ruined domes of a depopulated city, than the discordant din and ring of hammers, and axes, and trowels, mingled with the hoarse bawl of the master and the men, in the dreadful process of giving to these materials a habitation and a name! Domestic Architecture. 31 Let his name be forever held in reprobation, be he Greek, or be he Egyptian, who first contrived the fashion of building houses for the dwelling place of man, instead of the cave, or the sheltering tree, which nature designed, with so much kindness, for his habitation ; and in which the parents of our race were contented and happy, till their innocence was lost. Thanks to a kind provision of our natures, no man of sense, has a building mania more than once, any more, to use a borrowed compari- son, than our children do their measles, or our collegians and young men of genius, their poetry. We have already suffered so much on this score, that we perfectly hate a brick or a lime cask, and nothing would keep us among the Clay Men of our country, so odious is the name, but the fact that through all the fiery furnaces which he has passed, he has neither changed his color, his character, nor his name. But if it is wise to learn wisdom from others misfortunes, it certainly cannot be less so to derive useful reflections for our own and others benefit; and since men will live in houses, and will, moreover, build them, it cannot be an uninteresting theme of consideration, in what manner these should be built. We speak now of the dwelling houses of our citizens, the homes of our men of business, as well as of the few men of fortune, who are scattered through the country, and in these we include all who are able to own the estates which they occu- py. On this subject, sober judgement and our daily observation are utterly opposed to each other. Neatness, comfort, and economy are sacrificed to fashion and false pride; and go where we may in New- England, and, especially in Massachusetts, the traveler finds few things, so much to be lamented, as the sacrifice which is thus made to false taste, false judgement, and a falser estimate of what is valu-~ able. In the first place, our houses are too large for comfort, convenience, or beauty. The consequence of erecting them of such dimensions is, often, that they remain unfinished and incomplete; and, instead of the neat rural villa, which almost every farmer might own and enjoy, we see huge houses, the original cost of erecting which, too often, has en- tailed upon its tenant a load of debt, which he can never remove dur- ing his life, and he lives on, toiling to keep down the accumulating in- terest of the money, thus expended for what he cannot enjoy, with a consciousness, every year, that his chance of redemption is becoming less, and that his children must, ere long, yield their paternal acres to some stranger, who will enter to enjoy, if he can, the mansion, lbr which the tenant has sacrificed the best years of his life, and the best hopes of his family. This weakness is, if we mistake not, a peculiarity of New-England, and New-England men. We should look in vain, for such an idle ex- penditure of money among the thrifty descendants of the Dutch and Germans, in New-York or Pennsylvania. They understand these things better. Whatever they expend, in the way of buildings, is put to actual use. They have large barns, and large granaries, because they can fill them, and if they know not the luxury of a fine house, they know the comfort of a full and a warm one; and never think, while thus enjoying ease and competence, of voluntarily becoming the tenants of a griping landlord, and paying rent in the form of interest, 32 Domestic Architecture. for money expended in enlarging their dwelling houses, and contract- ing their means of enjoyment. It has so often been our misfortune to trace the progress of a farmer or mechanic, who has, indiscreetly, run into debt to build, or purchase a larger house than he has had occasion to put to actual use, that we can almost infallibly tell, at the first sight, the precise stage of his career of ruin. Here might very easily be formed a pretty accurate scale, by which we could determine the condition of a stranger by the external marks, that meet the eye of a traveler while passing by his dwelling house. if we see a large house, with here and there a tatter- ed garment supplying the places of broken panes of glass, we expect soon to see the shingles or clapboards loose, the doors with broken hinges, the fences broken down or carried away for fuel; and we soon look for the last step in this downward scale, a sheriffs flag hanging from the premises, to tell the passers-by that the tenants equity of re- demption in those premises is about to be sold to pay a store debt, or settle a tavern score. We might point out, too, the marks of this pro- gress of poverty, within the doors of such an estate ; but the dwelling soon becomes too desolate, and the wife and children too strongly marked with the seal which ruin has set upon them, to make such a spectacle any thing but painful and melancholy. Let no man imagine that this is a fancied picture. It may be seen in almost every town in New-England. Go with us to the registry of deeds for any county in Massachusetts, and, we doubt not, we can point to instances, in every volume of its records, of mortgages of estates made to secure the payment of money borrowed to renew or en- large the buildings upon those estates, and where the whole has been forfeited by the borrower, who, otherwise, might have been the inde- pendent tenant of the acres he had purchased, or inherited. Of the propensity to which we have referred, though it is the besetting weak- ness of our men of moderate fortunes, it is difficult to trace the origin or the cause of its general prevalence. We are willing to ascribe it to honorable and praiseworthy considerations, but we think them unfor- tunate and indiscreet. There is a feeling of independence, and of republican equality among our citizens, which, if properly directed, makes them the best citizens in the world; but which, if misapplied, makes them the veriest slaves. And this feeling may be traced in the style of our farm houses, as well as in other objects of luxury or convenience. No man is will- ing to be out done, if he can avoid it, by his neighbor. In the con- sciousness of acknowledged equality, he cannot bear with patience to be surpassed in the externals of style or independence. Instead of con- verting this feeling into an incentive to greater exertions gradually to attain to an actual equality with his more fortunate neighbors in wealth, and the means of display, too many begin with assuming the appear- ance of this equality, which they cannot sustain, and thereby take a load upon themselves that sinks them to the dust. Fashion in this thing is a tyrant, to whom they blindly submit, even with all their high notions of independence, which spurn every appearance of control. They are dazzled by the hugeness of tlw idol they worship, and lie down to be crushed by the wheels of his car, the willing victims of their own idolatry. We have, again and again, seen families of limited 33 Domestic Architecture. means, forego the very necessaries of life, in order to keep up the ap- pearance of being able to enjoy its luxuries, and this, because they were unwilling to seem inferior to those xvith whom they have been ac- customed to associate in life. The folly of an individual who has blundered into a fortune, or ac- quired it at the sacrifice of all pretensions to taste and refinement, of- ten operates in this way to the lasting injury of a country village. His extravagance gives a tone to the fashion of the place; and the dimen- sions of his house, as well as his style of expenditure, become a sort of standard for others; and many is the village, we could name, where a false style has thus been introduced in the construction of their dwell- ing houses, in which comfort, and fitness, and neatness, have been sac rificed to a false and ill-grourded jealousy or pride. The active capital, that gives life to business, is thereby absorbed or withdrawn from gen- eral use, by being thus converted into what cannot be profitably im- proved; and how often, where we. see the marks of dilapidation and de- cay in a village, may it be traced to an injudicious and misapplied ex- penditure of the wealth of its inhabitants in idle and useless show. We might dwell upon this part of our subject, and show by abundant examples, how this foolish fashion of extravagance in building houses, which prevails in New-England, tends to private suffering and to public loss. But enough has been said, and the observation of every one would, of itself, be sufficient to illustrate the truth of the proverb, that fools build houses, and wise men live in them. Indeed, if we were to pursue this part of our subject any farther, we might find ourselves wandering in the mazes of political economy, and we will, therefore, turn to another view of it; and that is, the violence which is done to good taste, in the style of building houses, so general- ly adopted in the country in New-England. Every one, from the most untutored clown to the finest connoisseur, feels, though he may not be equally able to account for the feeling, that there ought to be an adaptation of a thing to the purposes for which it is designed; and any thing which does violence to this prin- ciple is a violence done t6 good taste. Now, the great object of houses, in this climate of alternate heat and cold, is to furnish shelter to their occupants from the extremes of these, as well as from the ordinary in- conveniences of the elements, and thus to promote the comfort and convenience of their tenants. We would not say how far these are sac- rificed, for we had rather look for an illustration among examples which we meet with every day. We we say nothing of the utter disregard to orders and proportions, which we so often observe, for that is the fault of the artist. We will take a case where the fancy of the occupant has been consulted, and who is said to possess a very fine, because a very large house. And there it is, towering up into its two stories in height, with its large and numerous windows, its white glaring walls, and, if you please, (for we will take one of the best we can find) its white fence in front, enclosing a green plat of untrodden grass, but without a tree near it to shade or shelter it from the sun and storm, or a shrub, or a vine, to relieve the eye as it gazes upon it. What can, in fact, be more ill-suited than that pile for the purposes for whi~hit was designed ?~ It is an independent farmers dwelling house, and one half of it is scarcely ever, if ever, brought into use. The wind moans along its wide entrje~ VOL. II. 34 Domestic Arckitecture. and through its unoccupied rooms, when the weather is cold, with a sound that is truly appalling; and anon, when the sunimer heat drives us to seek a shelter from the scorching rays of the sun, we may see them pouring into those open windows, which seem intended to expose the inmates to the gaze and the pity of the spectator, while they are suffering from the oppressive heat of the climate, rather than let in the pure light of heaven, and the cooling breeze, as they may be wanted for the convenience or comfort of its occupants. Where shall we look in such an object for either the beauties of nature, or of art, or of these combined ? Nature is, indeed, shut out entirely. She is not permitted to lend the cooling shade of her forest trees, nor the bright and beauti- ful flowers of her exhaustless store of shrubs, to deck what man, not art, has tortured into the abode of a rational being, in whom nature originally implanted a fondness for her simple beauties. If we lay out of view the future destiny of such an estate, and regard only the uses to which it is applied by its present possessors, is there a man in his sob~r senses, who can call the construction of it a wise or a judicious expenditure of money, or one which indicates a man of native refine- ment, or of cultivated taste? To test this style farther, let us turn our eyes for a moment towards that little cottage, (for we have a few such) which we see yonder among the trees. Go there, and we shall see neatness, and comfort, and taste combined. Its white walls peep out from among the trees that surround it, like a rose amidst its own green leaves, and the eye is de- lighted and relieved by the order and symmetry that prevails through every part of the little grounds that surround it. You may enter the humble door of that cottage, over which a woodbine has been trained, or look into its windows through the honey-suckles that are climbing over them, and you will find every thing convenient, though every spot is occupied for some useful purpose. And yet that is the dwelling house of a mechanic of humble means, who has made his own estate by industry, and knows how to enjoy it to the utmost. The first cost of that cottage was but trifling, compared to the large mansion of his neighbor, and it has been by his own hand, and without interfering with his accustomed employments, that he has planted these trees, and shrubs, and vines, and made that little spot so charming and inviting. No traveler can pass these two dwellings, without almost envying the scene of comfort and good taste which the one presents, and al- most pitying the tenant of the other, whenever a comparison is made between them. These are no fancied pictures, let us repeat, but are faithful descrip- tions of what may be met with among the substantial, intelligent citi- zens of New-England; and nothing is wanted but a proper diffusion of good taste in the community, to make the instances of the one far more numerous than they now are, while the fashion of the other would, at the same time, become almost obsolete. We have not the power of comparing, by actual observation, the state of rural architecture, by which we mean the style of building general- ly adopted in the country in New-England, with that in some parts of Europe, especially in England; but ~ve cannot read the descriptions Which travelers give us of rural life, arid rural scenery, there, without Domestic Architecture. 35 lamenting the perversion of our public taste, especially in regard to this species of architecture. We ask no finer scenery, or brighter suns, or milder skies, than na~ ture offers in our own New-England. But where we look for the ob- jects of art, for the ornaments which nature borrows from the taste and skill of man, we look, too often, in vain. We have the most cheering and animating scenes of business and enterprise on every side. At one point, the towering walls of a Factory, surrounded with its clus- ters of dwelling houses and shops ; at another, the huge proportions of the village Tavern, and its neighboring stores, and shops of artizans; and on every side are objects indicating the busy, hustling habits of our people, and the eagerness with which they pursue the acquisition of wealth. But how few are the marks of that cultivated taste, which we might look for in a country enjoying so many means of knowledge and cultivation? Where do we look for the neat cottages, with their in- closures of hedges and their beautiful draperies of flowers and foliage? or, in short, where shall we look for many of those simple and unpre- tending beauties, which give so much interest to an English landscape in description or representation ? The answer and the reason is, not that nature has been sparing on her part, but man, the lord of this part of the creation, will not follow her hints nor improve the advantages which she places within his reach. Here and there, we find men breaking through the trammels of cus- tom and fashion, and exhibiting a refined taste in selecting the situa- tions of their dwelling houses, and the style of their construction, and of the grounds around them. We look forward to the time when this taste will be more generally cultivated and improved, and its effects better understood. Our Horticultural Societies may do much i~i this respect, and their influence cannot but be salutary upon the community. We say again, we do not want intelligence as a people, nor do we want capacity for enjoying the beautiful objects of nature and art. The fault is the slavery to fashion and custom, and here must the reme- dy be applied. In the success of an effort directed to this end, we have very little doubt. We are persuaded that in the instance of the utter destitution of good taste, which has prevailed in many, and, we had almost said, most places, in regard to that appendage of every vil- lagea grave-yardthe model of which will be before the public in the Cemetery at Mount Auburnwill have a most beneficial and de- cided effect. A similar effect may be produced in regard to other mat- ters of taste, and by the same meansthe force of example. We look for- ward, therefore, with confidence to the time, when the beautiful valleys and hill-sides of New-England, shall present objects more interesting to the eye of the traveler, than the huge naked and unpainted dwelling house~ -which mar the beauty of our landscapes at this day ; and where neat snug cottages and farm houses, with their shade trees, their vines, and their shrubbery, their gardens and their orchardsorna- ments which only demand attention to secure their possession,where nature, and art, and economy shall all combineshall be scattered through the land, and mark the abodes of comfort, and true republican independence. We could fill a volume upon this subject, for we have hardly touched upon it in its interesting, economical, moral, and political effect upon 36 The Dilemma. the community. We could draw illustrations from the history of past ages, as well as the condition of the present; but we have already ex- ceeded our limits, and must forbear. ii these hasty thoughts, begun in playfulness, but closed in serious earnest, shall serve to call the at- tention of others to this subject, we shall have done something towards the advancement of the arts in our country, and the happiness of her citizens. Z. THE DILEMMA. SNow, by the blessed Paphian queen, Who heaves the breast of sweet sixteen; By every name I cut on bark Before my morning star grew dark; By Hymens torch, by Cupids dart, By all that thrills the beating heart; The bright black eye, the melting blue, I cannot choose between the two. I had a vision in my dreams ; I saw a row of twenty beams; 2From every beam a rape was hung, In every rope a lover swung. I asked the hue of every eye That bade each luckless lver die; Ten livid lips said, heavenly blue, And ten accused the darker hue. I asked a matron., which she deemed With fairest light of beau.y beamed; She answered, some thou;ht both were fair Give her blue eyes and golden hair. I might have liked her jlidgement well, But as she spoke, she rung the bell, And all her girls, nor small nor few, Came marching intheir eyes were blue~ I asked a maiden; back she flung The locks that round her forehead hung, And turned her eye, a glorious one, Bright as a diamond in tbe sun, On me, until, beneath its rays, I felt as if my hair would blaze; She liked all eyes but eyes of green; She looked at me; what could she mean? Ah! many lids Love lurks between, Nor heeds the coloring o2 his screen; And when his random arrows fly, The victim falls, but knows not why. Gaze not upon his shield of jet, The shaft upon the string is set; Look not beneath his azure veil, Though every limb were cased in mail. Well both might make a martyr break The chain that bound him to the stake, And both, with but a single ray, Can melt our very hearts away; And~both, when balanced, hardly seem To stir the scales, or rock the beam; But that is dearest, all the while, That wears for us the sweetest smile. 0. W. H.

O. W. H. H., O. W. The Dilemma Original Papers 36-37

36 The Dilemma. the community. We could draw illustrations from the history of past ages, as well as the condition of the present; but we have already ex- ceeded our limits, and must forbear. ii these hasty thoughts, begun in playfulness, but closed in serious earnest, shall serve to call the at- tention of others to this subject, we shall have done something towards the advancement of the arts in our country, and the happiness of her citizens. Z. THE DILEMMA. SNow, by the blessed Paphian queen, Who heaves the breast of sweet sixteen; By every name I cut on bark Before my morning star grew dark; By Hymens torch, by Cupids dart, By all that thrills the beating heart; The bright black eye, the melting blue, I cannot choose between the two. I had a vision in my dreams ; I saw a row of twenty beams; 2From every beam a rape was hung, In every rope a lover swung. I asked the hue of every eye That bade each luckless lver die; Ten livid lips said, heavenly blue, And ten accused the darker hue. I asked a matron., which she deemed With fairest light of beau.y beamed; She answered, some thou;ht both were fair Give her blue eyes and golden hair. I might have liked her jlidgement well, But as she spoke, she rung the bell, And all her girls, nor small nor few, Came marching intheir eyes were blue~ I asked a maiden; back she flung The locks that round her forehead hung, And turned her eye, a glorious one, Bright as a diamond in tbe sun, On me, until, beneath its rays, I felt as if my hair would blaze; She liked all eyes but eyes of green; She looked at me; what could she mean? Ah! many lids Love lurks between, Nor heeds the coloring o2 his screen; And when his random arrows fly, The victim falls, but knows not why. Gaze not upon his shield of jet, The shaft upon the string is set; Look not beneath his azure veil, Though every limb were cased in mail. Well both might make a martyr break The chain that bound him to the stake, And both, with but a single ray, Can melt our very hearts away; And~both, when balanced, hardly seem To stir the scales, or rock the beam; But that is dearest, all the while, That wears for us the sweetest smile. 0. W. H. 37 VIRGINIA. As method is a defect in letter-writing I shall endeavor to avoid censure and will begin without preamble. Virginia is, you know, the oldest and best of the Southern States, and many there be who esteem it the best of the twenty-four. Perhaps every other state would, by vote, rank it next after itself, and this was the virtual superiority accorded tQ that Greek, whom each one of the other generals of Greece, esteemed next, after himself. Virginia was named after that good Queen, and bad woman, the last and worst of the Tudors, or, as they might be called, the Tigers. It should have been named, rather from the generous Pocahontas, the most amiable person in all history, as Elizabeth was the least. Jack Randolph ! as they call you in Virginia, (though Sir John to all Europe,) I covet not that satire of yours, that sticks and blisters where it fallsI am not avaricious, and I covet as little the manors of Roanoke or the envoys salaryI would give them all, and more, to be a descendant of Powhatans daughtera descent that is emblazoned on the vellum of your own skin. It is a creditable lineage, though in Europe men are better pleased to trace their line through some iron-headed baron or truculent robber, whose black deeds acquired him the distinguished name of Hell-in-harness, .and who, had he lived under just laws, would have been set in the pillory for sheep-stealing, or hung for burglary, or arson. The best account ever given, or that can be given of Pocahontas, is in the words of Captaine Smith himself. He was taken by the In- dians, and carried before their chief, Powbatan, or, as he calls him, Emperor, whose ermine was a robe of raccoon skins, with all the tailes hanging thereby. This valuable robe Powhatan afterward pre- sented to the British & lomon, James I. The sylvan monarch was surrounded by two hundred of those grim courtiers. After a while, preparations were made to despatch Smith, and he laid his head upon the block, while the clubs were rais- ed over it. The Salvages being ready with their clubs, to beat out his braines, Pocahontas, the Kings dearest daughter, when no entreatie could prevail, got his head in her arms, and laid her owne upon his, to save him from death, whereupon the Emperor was contented hee should live. At intervals, of four or five days Pocahontas sent sup- plies of food to the famishing colony. Powhatan, however, loved not the strangers, and, on a certain night, resolved to exterminate them. Then it was that the good Pocahontas, his dearest jewel and daugh- ter, that dark night came through the irksome woods to give warning to the c6lony. Such things as shee delighted in, Smith would have rewarded her with, but with the teares running down her cheeks shee said she durst not be seen to have any, for if Powhatan should know it, shee were but dead; so shee ran away by herself as shee came. Well might Smith, who had a generous soul, call her the Numparell of Virginia. Afterwards, when Smith had returned to England, she was enticed on board a vessel and held for several months in the settlement as a

J. M. M., J. Virginia Original Papers 37-46

37 VIRGINIA. As method is a defect in letter-writing I shall endeavor to avoid censure and will begin without preamble. Virginia is, you know, the oldest and best of the Southern States, and many there be who esteem it the best of the twenty-four. Perhaps every other state would, by vote, rank it next after itself, and this was the virtual superiority accorded tQ that Greek, whom each one of the other generals of Greece, esteemed next, after himself. Virginia was named after that good Queen, and bad woman, the last and worst of the Tudors, or, as they might be called, the Tigers. It should have been named, rather from the generous Pocahontas, the most amiable person in all history, as Elizabeth was the least. Jack Randolph ! as they call you in Virginia, (though Sir John to all Europe,) I covet not that satire of yours, that sticks and blisters where it fallsI am not avaricious, and I covet as little the manors of Roanoke or the envoys salaryI would give them all, and more, to be a descendant of Powhatans daughtera descent that is emblazoned on the vellum of your own skin. It is a creditable lineage, though in Europe men are better pleased to trace their line through some iron-headed baron or truculent robber, whose black deeds acquired him the distinguished name of Hell-in-harness, .and who, had he lived under just laws, would have been set in the pillory for sheep-stealing, or hung for burglary, or arson. The best account ever given, or that can be given of Pocahontas, is in the words of Captaine Smith himself. He was taken by the In- dians, and carried before their chief, Powbatan, or, as he calls him, Emperor, whose ermine was a robe of raccoon skins, with all the tailes hanging thereby. This valuable robe Powhatan afterward pre- sented to the British & lomon, James I. The sylvan monarch was surrounded by two hundred of those grim courtiers. After a while, preparations were made to despatch Smith, and he laid his head upon the block, while the clubs were rais- ed over it. The Salvages being ready with their clubs, to beat out his braines, Pocahontas, the Kings dearest daughter, when no entreatie could prevail, got his head in her arms, and laid her owne upon his, to save him from death, whereupon the Emperor was contented hee should live. At intervals, of four or five days Pocahontas sent sup- plies of food to the famishing colony. Powhatan, however, loved not the strangers, and, on a certain night, resolved to exterminate them. Then it was that the good Pocahontas, his dearest jewel and daugh- ter, that dark night came through the irksome woods to give warning to the c6lony. Such things as shee delighted in, Smith would have rewarded her with, but with the teares running down her cheeks shee said she durst not be seen to have any, for if Powhatan should know it, shee were but dead; so shee ran away by herself as shee came. Well might Smith, who had a generous soul, call her the Numparell of Virginia. Afterwards, when Smith had returned to England, she was enticed on board a vessel and held for several months in the settlement as a 38 Virginia. hostage. She made, however, her own captive, as Master John Rolfe an honest gentleman, of good behavior, had been in love with Pocahontas, and shee with him ; they were married, and the alliance was agreeable to Powhatan and cemented the peace. During this tin e ne I ~tid Rebecca, alias Pocahontas, by the diligent care of mas- ter John Rolfe her husband, and his friends, was taught to speake such English as might well be understood, well instructed in Christi- anitie, and was become very formall and civill after our English man- ner. Shee had also by him a childe which shee loved most dearlie, and the treasurer and companie tooke order both for the maintenance of her and it; besides there were divers persons of great ranke and qualitie had been very kind to her before shee arrived in London. At London, Captaine Smith, to deserve her former courtesies, made her qualities known to the queens most Excellent Maiestie and her court, and wrote a little book, in favor of Pocahontas. She was presented to the king and queen, and was generally much caressed. Solomon, however, would not see Rolfe, and looked frowningly on Pocahontas to rebuke her, being a kings daughter, for marrying a private man. The following are the chief contents of Smiths little book. Most Honoured Queen, If ingratitude be a deadly poyson to all honest vertues, I must be guiltie of that crime if I should omit any means to be thankful. So it is; that some ten yeares ago, being in Virginia, and taken prisoner by the power of Powhattan their chiefe king, I received from this great salvage exceeding great courtesies, especially from his son Nantaquaus, the most manliest, comeliest, boldest spirit I ever saw in a salvage, and his sister Pocahontas, the kings most dear and wel- beloved daughter, being but a childe of twelve or thirteen yeares old, whose com- passionate pitiful heart on my desperate estate gave me much cause to respect her. After some weeks fatting among those salvage courtiers at the minute of execu- tion, shee hazarded the beating out of her owne braines to save mine, and not only that, but prevailed upon her father that I was safely conducted to James- town, where I found about eight and thirty miserable poor sick creatures to keep possession of all those large territories of Virginia. Such was the weakness of this poore commonwealth, that had the salvages not fed us directly we had starv- ed; and the relief, most gracious Queen, was commonly bought us by this Lady Iocahontas; and when her father, with the utmost of his policie and power sought to surprise mee, having but eighteene with mee, the dark night could not affrmght her from coming through the irksome woods, and with watered eyes shee gave mee intelligence with her best advice to escape his furie, which had hee known hee had surely slaine her. Jamestown with her wilde traine, shee as freely frequented as her fathers habitation, and during the time of two or three yeares, she next, under God, was the instrument to preserve this colonie, from death, famine, and utter confusion. Smith afterwards writes, being about to sail for New-England, I could not stay to do her that service she required and well deserved, but hearing she was at Branford, with divers young friends, I went to see her. After a modest salutation without any word, shee turned about, ohs~ured her face, as not seeming well contented ; but not long after shee began to talk and remembered me well what courtesies she had done, saying you did promise Powhatan what was yours should be his, and he the like to you. You called him father, being in his land a stranger; and by the same reason so must I do you which though I would have excused, I durst not allow of the title, shee being a kings daughter ;with a well-set countenance shee said, were you not afraid to come into my fathers countrie, and caused feare in Virginia. 39 him and all his people (but mee) and fear you here, I should call you father t I tell you then I will, and you shall call me childe arid soe I will be forever and ever your countrieman. Ihey did tell us alwaies you were dead, and I knew no other till I come to Plimoth, yet Powhatan did command Vitamatomakkin to seeke you and know the truth, because your countriemen will lie much. Divers courtiers and others, hath gone with mee to see, her, that generally concluded God had a great hand in her conversion, and they have seen many English ladies worse favored, and it pleased both the King and Queenes Maiestie honourably to esteem her. It pleased God at Gravesend to take this young ladle to his mercy, where she made not more sorrow for her unexpected death, than joy to the beholders to hear and see her make so religious and godly an end. These are some of the early incidents in the history of the colony all which you knew before; but I have extracted the passages that you might read the simple description of Smith himself. Ould Vir- ginia, as he calls it, was, however, soon in a more thriving state, and, in 1620, about a hundred girls, young and uncorrupt, were sent out as merchandize to the colony. They came to a good market, and were soon followed by other consignments. The price of a wife was about one hundred pounds of tobacco, though it soon rose fifty per centum. Allow me a few words concerning Smith, and thank your fortune that I do not go back to Columbus, which in writing of Virginia I have the right of prescription to do. Smith was born in 1579, and he had much of that restless unquiet spirit that makes poets and heroes. His genius broke out in all manner of pranks at school; till he sold his books and eloped. At the age of sixteen he had wandered over half Europe, Egypt, and the Levant. He enlisted in the Low Coun- tries, from whence he returned to England and built himself a hut in the woods, where he studied diligently the art of war, to make him- self, like Napoleon, one of Plutarchs men. In this retirement he had a horse and lance. He, however, recovered a share of his patri- mony, and again traveled. He sailed from France for Italy, with a company of Catholic pilgrims; a storm arose, and the English heretic, like Jonah, was thrown overboard as a propitiation. He reached the land, which was near, by swimming, for with all his aptitude to fall into a scrape he had a marvelous talent for getting out of it. After varied fortunes he entered the Austrian army to fight the Turks, and having performed good service, had the command of a company of two hundred and fifty horesemen. The army besieged Regal, from whence the Turks sent a challenge for a champion to engage the Lord Turbishaw, to divert the ladies. The honor of this enterprise was decided by lot, and the lot fell upon Smith, who killed the Turk and cut off his head. Grualgo, to avenge his death, sent a pressing challenge to the victor, who took the opportunity of repeating the feat upon the challenger, and sent word to the ladies that if they de- sired more diversion, they must send another champion. Then came Bonamolgro, ~ a giant of a Turk, and Smith, like the champion of infant Rome, had a third victory. He was raised in rank and much honored in the army. The Prince of Transylvania gave him a coat 40 Virginia. of arms bearing three Turks Heads, (gules, I suppose) with a motto fit for Alexander, vincere est vivere. Our Turks Head Islands were named by Smith, from this adventure, and you may see the coat of arms in his history of Virginia. He was at last, after having been left for dead upon the field, taken prisoner, and sold to a Bashaw of several tails, who, to raise a char- acter for prowess, sent him as captive of his own bow and spear, to a Tnrtar lady, Charatza Tragabigzanda, at Constantinople; the same after whom Smith subsequently named the cape that we now call Cape Ann. But mi3ress and slave could talk in that perilous Italian tongue, and, asthe lady soon loved the Christian captive better than the Turkish dignitary, she sent him for safer keeping to her brother the Bashaw of A~of. He, however, who did not enter into all his sisters views, thought it expedient, if not right, to clothe Smith in the garb of a slave, and set him to thresh in a barn at some distance, where he often treated him to kicks and blows. But Smiths patience was in- finitely less than his perseverance, and he one day laid his flail upon his masters skull, with so little gentleness, that he threshed out the scanty contents. He hid the body in the straw, filled a bag with grain, appropriated the Bashaws dress and horse, and escaped to Muscovy. These are but a tithe of his adventures which were sung by contemporary poets. By him the Infidels had due correction, He blew the bellows still, of peace and plentie, He made the Indians bow unto subjection And planters neer returned to Albion emptie. I~ * * * * * * * * * * The natural features of Virginia have much both of the beautiful and the grand. W iers Cave, Harpers Ferry, and the Natural Bridge, and many unvisited spots in the mountains, would be objects of admira- tion and thronged with visiters even in Switzerland, that region of su- blimity and beauty. There are few lakes, but noble rivers interlace every part of the state, and the natural beauty of the Potomac is su- perior to that of the Rhine. The woods are of a kind found only in America. Their dark recesses, where the silence is only broken by the note of birds and the murmur of water falls, are infinitely more impressive than the trimmed forests of England, or the wilder woods of Germany. The American woods are primeval fbrests, which stand now as they stood when man lived in innocence by the Euphrates, before any cedar was felled or any temple reared. The woods of Virginia are so filled with the sounds of various birds and tree-frogs, (those delicate sylvans, that have a note clearer than a bird) that an old traveler calls it a land of enchantment, where so many sweet sounds are emited by invisible songsters; he may, however, have been a little deluded by his admira- tion, as he affirms that some frogs emit a most tremendous roar, louder than the bellowing of a bull, and with a striking resemblance to articulate words, as hogshead! tobacco! knee deep! ancle deep deeper and deeper! Piankitank ! Virginia. 41 Such is the countrywhat is the lord of it ? Morally and intellec- tually, a Virginian is at least as high as other men, and many would say higher. Yet you may never have seen one in your life except Judge Marshall, who in some respects represents the commonwealth. Carolinians are migratory birds, or, as Cacofogo says, casual things ; you may see them every summer, arid hear them too if you will but praise the tariff. But a Virginian seldom quits his soilhe cannot be well transplanted, and this is one reason why his characteristics are so strong. Nature has been just and generous to him, and his institu- tions have moulded the mind that nature gave him into a peculiar character. With him Old Virginia never tires, and he is never weary in talking of Dick Bowling, Sam Washington, Jack Taliafero, and Tom Cabell. He is like the young Foscari, and would rather die at home than live elsewhere. Now, a man from Yankee-land, wherever he may be, is at home; the past and the distant are nothing to him; his thoughts are concen- trated upon the present or upon the means of making advantage of the future. Wherever he falls, he alights like a cat upon his feet, nor are these easily tripped from under him. But displace a Virginian from his sphere, and he seldom recovers it, and when he loses his property he does not begin the world again with the confidence and alacrity that distinguish a New-England-man. Those who assert the Virginian superiority, attribute it somewhat to the great number of rich and intelligent cultivators who live on their plantations, after the manner of the old English country gentlemen. This is, indeed, a grade of people that has much influence, and a similar class would be of advantage in New-England. Its place is but ill supplied by people in the professions, whose interest depends so much upon popular favor that they are seldom sufficient barriers a- gainst popular prejudice or clamor. Refinement is a part of good morals, and a man is never the more honest because he is boorish and coarse. A Virginian planter is a man in whom meanness cannot exist; no mutations can make him sordid; his faults are not of this cast; they are the failings of a generous nature. Such men, living at frequent intervals over the state, and with possessions like English baronies, have great influence in forming the character of the class im- mediately below them,as, for instance, the small freeholders of Vir- ginia. They give a high tone to public sentiment, and men feel, that, to be visited by the scorn of such a body, is a heavier penalty than any inflicted by the laws. Like Randolph, I do not altogether believe it expedient that mere numbers should, in the present state of the world, have the entire con- trol of a state, or that all workiugmen are fit to rule, for no other reason than that they work. Indulge me with a brief digression, and I will pardon you a short nap. Workingmen are honest men; but in this country, as Franklins negro said, ebery ting work but de hog; he de only gentleman ; nevertheless, all men here are not compe- tent to make or administer the laws. Open the gates of knowledge widelyand to all, and invite all to enter and drink at the fountain, but let not the indolent, the stupid, and the ignorant, think to guide a chariot more difficult to be guided than that attempted by Phaeton. In this country no man is compelled to labor with his hands for years. VOL. II. 6 42 Virginia. unless he be without prudence, discretion or industry; and if he lack these in his own affairs, can the mere mantle of office, with which some reformers would invest him, bestow them when he is exalted to direct the affairs of the commonwealth? Mind has always had the ascendancy over matter, and it ever will have. Those who think must govern those who toil. Prudence, sagacity, and perseverance, will raise a man from any grade, but without these he must be contented to remain among the large number who are seldom called to authority. I have quoted poetical authority, but there is scriptural warrant for this. The wisdom of a learned man cometh by opportunity of leisure; and he that hath little business shall become wise. How can he get wisdom that holdeth the plough, and that glo.. rieth in the goad that driveth oxen, and is occupied in their labors, and whose talk is of bullocks? He giveth his mind to make furrows, and is diligent to give the kine fodder. The smith, also, sitting by the anvil, and considering the iron work, the vapor of the fire wasteth his flesh, and he fighteth with the heat of the furnace; the noise of the hammer and anvil is ever in his ears, and his eyes look still upon the pattern of the thing that he maketh. All these trust to their hands and every one is wise in his work. Without these cannot a city be inhabited and they shall not dwell where they will, nor go up and down. They shall not be sought for in public council, nor sit high in the congregation; they shall not sit on the judges seats, nor understand the sentence of judgement; they cannot declare justice and judge- ment, and they shall not be found where parables are spoken. Thus saith the preacher. Is there any other state that has been generally so well represented in the national councils as Virginia? Your reasons, Jack ?be- cause in that commonwealth men are advanced in public life before the intellect feels the chill of age, and while their ambition and capa- city for labor are greatest. The Virginians place their young men in the arenas, where they can best acquire skill as intellectual gladiators. The electors have the sagacity to see, that, if a horse would win the race, he must be familiar with the course while he is somewhat of a colt. Now, in a certain rocky land, north-east from Virginia, I have known many men, of neither political or moral elevation, nor compe- tent minds, exalted for no other reason than that they never had an opinion. These are the bold navigators that always float down the stream, and ~vould shrink from the slightest ripple raised by manly opposition to popular feeling or prejudice ; But would forsake the ship and make the shore When the winds whistle and the tempests roar. Such, however, were not the men who planted the colony in the wil- derness of New-England. There is little cant about a Virginian; his purpose is open, and his means are bold. He regards words less than things, and, having secured the substance, cares little for the shadow. The English Virginia. 43 names are retained over all the state, and there is no legislation to change ancient and loyal titles to words of more republican import. Some of the counties are King William, King George, King and Queen, Prince Edward, Prince George, Prince William, and Princess Anne. Williamsburg. which was named in honor of the king, has, to do royalty the more honor, parallel streets in the form of W. It is fortunate for the town that the monarchs initial was not a Z. Names are a part of history and should not be lightly altered. Re- publican trophies are, in some instances, less impressive than the want of them; as the procession, that was without the images of Brutus and Cassius, but reminded the Romans of their great countrymen the more. A great Roman said, it is better that it should be asked, why he had not statues than why he had; and it is, perhaps, better for Virginia to retain the names of the monarchy, to make more memorable what she has done for the republic. Gaudet equo. A Virginian loves his horse, and is at home on the race course; the horses are excellent, and, to find better, you must go to the desert. A Virginian will stake much on a favorite animal, and, if he lose, will pay cheerfully, and a willing payer is generally as hard to be found as a cheerful giver. The generosity or profuse- ness of a planter, however, sometimes, reduces him to borrow before his crops are sold, and note-tonsors thrive in Virginia as well as else- where. Avarice flourishes most by the side of prodigality, and a miser is never so well placed as when among spendthrifts. As they deal much together in their lives, so, after death (according to Dante) they are not divided. The poet describes them as laboring eternally in rolling huge stones from opposite sides and back, and upbraiding each other when they meet in the middle space, the one party with, why dost thou grasp ? and the other with why dost thou scatter ? However, though in Virginia the usurers grow rich, the planters do not become poor; it is but at one season that they borrow, and these are not half of the whole, nor do they borrow much. A person in Virginia who would plead usury to defeat a contract in which he had been mulcted fifty per cent., would be pelted even from a negro- house; he would have to flee the land, for honor there is as strong as law. The people of Virginia are not generally so devout, that it might not be lawful, in some parts of the commonwealth, to apply funds for the conversion of the heathen. The churches are few and far be- tween. The people go to the churches when any are near, that is, within k dozen miles, for here notions of space are liberal; but they are much inclined, when assembled, to get into groups and talk loudly upon worldly matters, such as politics and horses. Under the colonial government, when the church was conjunct with the state, every par- ish was bound to support a minister, who had his glebe and salary paid in tobacco. In our Isle of Shoals, at this day, the clergyman is paid in dried codfish, but at so low a rate, that he is himself obliged to follow the apostolic employment. These islands were once called by Captaine Smith, after his own name; but names are as transitory as things. Tobacco, you know, was once a legal tender in Virginia, as clam-shells are in Timbuctoo; and tobacco notes or receipts from the in- spector circulate to this day. Perhaps you remember that the colonial 44 Virginia. churches in the lower parts of Virginia,which, unlike the edifices in the state generally, were built in a style approaching to neatness,~ were constructed of imported bricks. But they have all gone to decay; shrubs grow within the walls, and birds and bats build in the arches. Sunday is a day whereon no Virginian will dine alone if he can have his neighbor; and truly there is a good dinner. Ham, (smack your lips man, t is the Virginia ham,) is every day upon the table, supported by a cabbage, or a dish of greens. There is no dinner on any day without these. After a dinner, few people here are averse to the moderate hilarity that comes from a glass of good wine, for the grape is honored even in this region of mint juleps and antifogmatics. Nobody, however, dies of apoplexy; for men and boys are always mountedthey are half centaur, and often ride twenty miles to dine. There are few good country inns in Virginiawhy? the people are so hospitable, that there are small gleanings for publicans. A stranger finds a welcome at every planters house, though in the German dis- tricts he would not grow fat upon hospitality, nor would he be pressed to prolong his residence at taverns, after he had expended the last of his coin. The lowest class in Virginia is that of the poor white man ; or, as the negro calls him, the poor buckra. He is an object of pity and derision even to the negro himself. These men are gipseys in all but a wandering life, having not only no possessions, but no very definite notions of property, scarcely making any distinction between meum and tuum. Brought up in ignorance, they live in idleness, and their lives are practical homilies on the importance of common schools, and laws to compel attendance thereon. The old field schools, if splendidly endowed, are not well con- ducted. They will make few Patrick Henries. The planters have private tutors, and sometimes several unite to bear the expense of a private school. The school-house is a log cabin, to which the elements have entrance. The girls come on horseback or in carriages, attended by servants who bring the dinner. The boys walk, and are attended by all the dogs of the plantations, so that the curs are to the boys about as seven to one, and at night there is a joyous bark and shout when the school is dismissed, and dogs and boys return together. Many of the plantations are of five thousand acres, and Jefferson, though not a very great planter, had about three hundred and fifty acres of corn, as many of clover, and the same number of potatoes, beans and peas. This is on a larger scale than the agriculture of Cincinnatus. Now would that I could paint the cheerful, undescribed, and inde- scribable negro, whose laugh is so ready, and is such an explosion of joy, that it is a pity, when it is so easy to make him laugh, that he should ever cry. In a still evening, you may hear, more than two miles, his long and loud guffaw. But you allow me no space for sketches, you tie me to two impossibilities. It shall be witty and it sha nt be long. Now fancy yourself riding along and along through the green wood, till you would like to live like Jaques under the shade of mel- Virginia. 45 ancholy boughs ; afar from the habitations of men; you come at once upon a multitude of rich equipages, with beautiful horses unharnessed and tied to trees. Advancing, you hear shouts, merriment ,and tweedle dum and tweedle dee. Music and dancing are near, and if there are no nymphs and dryads, pass on, and you see, glancing around, groups or constellations of ladies, such as you will see only in Virginia or Spain. These are attended by the satellites that usually follow in the train of beauty. You discover a large circular space, covered with canvass or boughs, where the light of heart and foot are dancing to the violin and fife, while, under trees at a distance are the more sedate and grave in years, sitting at tables by fours, and looking intently on little parallelograms of pasteboard, which, ever and anon, they rap down with force upon the board. You will not fail to see a range of tables that would feast a regiment, and camp fires at which all flesh and fowl is roasting, including a whole hog, that constitutes the barbecue which gives name to this feast. When the banquet is ready you devote yourself to the constellations, as the first course is for the ladies, upon whom the gentlemen attend, as the genius waited upon Aladdin. The second course is for the lords, upon whom the managers and slaves attend. After all, the managers dine also, and they have servants no less exalted than the ladies. A barbecue has from three hundred to eight hundred people, and it is only where a very social life is led that this feast could be so well filled. But sometimes a candidate or an officer invites the whole county, and the number is then greater. The master of the feast, on this occasion, ascends the rostrum, made by the woodman, and which is that part of a tree that is immediately above the roots. From this elevation he harangues the people in good Virginian, which is gene- rally choice English, always excepting toting, which I find in no classic author. But I must quit the subject of this great and venerable common- wealth, which is known i~ the remotest corners of the earth; for its products are chewed alike By saint, by savage and by sage. Should old Virginia be sunk by an earthquake, or swallowed at a meal by the geological demon called a great convulsion of nature,~~ it would be a calamity to the world; it would extinguish millions of pipes, and eclipse the gaiety of nations. J. N. 46 OLD BOOKS. IT is really winter,doleful, dreary, miserable winter. 0 that I were a well compacted dormouse, that I might slumber until Spring should lay her soft hand upon his brawling lips. 0 that I were a bear, luxuriating on my nutritious extremities. At every other season we are abroad, and hunting for pleasure; but now, if we can screw our spirits up to the height of comfort, we feel as if we had achieved a triumph. The cold shiver at night, as we lie down like a statue in a snow-drift, the morning ablution in iced water, the mockery of the fireside, scorching our boot-heels, while the sleet lies unmelted on our shouldersthis is wretchedness. And having premised that we must expect nothing but trouble at this melancholy season, let us treat our assumption as divines occasionally do their textsproceed to disprove it. Let not the shuddering wretch, who holds this periodical in his numb fingers, imagine for a moment that I mean to plod through the whole catalogue of artifices that may serve to while away the hours of winter captivity. I wish only to call his attention to a single resource, and the poor creature may be put to his shifts for occupation, before the skirts of February ~have swept the hills in his retiring pathway. Drive a man fairly in upon himself, block up his door with four feet of snow, and when he finds, in his solitude, what vapid stuff his brains are made of, he will bid you welcome, if you bring him nothing better than a pack of jack straws. If you have then, my friend, a single old book, you are not utterly miserable. If you have many, you may be almost happy. There are some books that never grow old. There are some authors, whose laurels will ever be as green as if they were garlands of immortal amaranth. But these are public property; they belong to every schoolboy that can read, and every scribbler that can quote. The old books to which I refer are of a different character; they are like those wall-flowers of the drawing-room, in whom a little unnoticed cultivation gives us an exclusive property. The overloaded libraries of the old world send us occasionally a cargo of such elabo- rate productions of antiquity, as literature and science have spoken well of in their day, but on the whole have thought best to throw over- board, as their voyage was rather long, and ballast very plenty. These are the books that the profane purchaser denominates trash, and the cunning bibliopolist cries up as rare and curious relics. These are the books that are not unfrequently found on the auctioneers table, when some inveterate antiquary leaves his motley collection of scarci- ties to an unthinking heir. A dreadful sight it is, to see the dust of centuries rudely dislodged by his unsparing hammer. They may be seen in our public libraries, gravitating down to the lower shelves, in the shape of formidable folios, or soaring up almost to the ceiling, as little clasped and heavy built volumes, seemingly intended for the pocket, in those blessed times when pockets were no unaccommodating receptacles. And sometimes may they be found, perchance, despoiled of their covers and rent by ruthless hands, in the lumber closet or the garret. But be they found where they may, to him who loves the voice of the dead, not the less because it has not been echoed by the lips of the multitude, to him who loves to be interested in the thoughts or

O. W. H. H., O. W. Old Books Original Papers 46-49

46 OLD BOOKS. IT is really winter,doleful, dreary, miserable winter. 0 that I were a well compacted dormouse, that I might slumber until Spring should lay her soft hand upon his brawling lips. 0 that I were a bear, luxuriating on my nutritious extremities. At every other season we are abroad, and hunting for pleasure; but now, if we can screw our spirits up to the height of comfort, we feel as if we had achieved a triumph. The cold shiver at night, as we lie down like a statue in a snow-drift, the morning ablution in iced water, the mockery of the fireside, scorching our boot-heels, while the sleet lies unmelted on our shouldersthis is wretchedness. And having premised that we must expect nothing but trouble at this melancholy season, let us treat our assumption as divines occasionally do their textsproceed to disprove it. Let not the shuddering wretch, who holds this periodical in his numb fingers, imagine for a moment that I mean to plod through the whole catalogue of artifices that may serve to while away the hours of winter captivity. I wish only to call his attention to a single resource, and the poor creature may be put to his shifts for occupation, before the skirts of February ~have swept the hills in his retiring pathway. Drive a man fairly in upon himself, block up his door with four feet of snow, and when he finds, in his solitude, what vapid stuff his brains are made of, he will bid you welcome, if you bring him nothing better than a pack of jack straws. If you have then, my friend, a single old book, you are not utterly miserable. If you have many, you may be almost happy. There are some books that never grow old. There are some authors, whose laurels will ever be as green as if they were garlands of immortal amaranth. But these are public property; they belong to every schoolboy that can read, and every scribbler that can quote. The old books to which I refer are of a different character; they are like those wall-flowers of the drawing-room, in whom a little unnoticed cultivation gives us an exclusive property. The overloaded libraries of the old world send us occasionally a cargo of such elabo- rate productions of antiquity, as literature and science have spoken well of in their day, but on the whole have thought best to throw over- board, as their voyage was rather long, and ballast very plenty. These are the books that the profane purchaser denominates trash, and the cunning bibliopolist cries up as rare and curious relics. These are the books that are not unfrequently found on the auctioneers table, when some inveterate antiquary leaves his motley collection of scarci- ties to an unthinking heir. A dreadful sight it is, to see the dust of centuries rudely dislodged by his unsparing hammer. They may be seen in our public libraries, gravitating down to the lower shelves, in the shape of formidable folios, or soaring up almost to the ceiling, as little clasped and heavy built volumes, seemingly intended for the pocket, in those blessed times when pockets were no unaccommodating receptacles. And sometimes may they be found, perchance, despoiled of their covers and rent by ruthless hands, in the lumber closet or the garret. But be they found where they may, to him who loves the voice of the dead, not the less because it has not been echoed by the lips of the multitude, to him who loves to be interested in the thoughts or Old Books. 47 feelings of a single mind, long vanished and forgotten, they are precious. No matter what may be the subject of our rescued volume; it was enough to engage the energies of some laborious student, through the weary hours of day, and the still watches of night; his hopes of fortune and fame went with it, and its perishing memory is the little remnant of his shipwrecked ambition. Doubtless he was led by the same delusion, that leads so many in our own day to fling themselves before the ponderous wheels of public opinion, to be immolated, like the eastern worshiper, in the same idle hope of immortality. As I have stood, surrounded by the labors of men, in their own time revered and honored, but now mouldering in neglect, I have felt like one pass- ing through the vaults of unremembered monarchsthe frail body lies embalmed before him, but the crown has passed from its temples, and the voice of adulation is hushed forever. There is something in the character of our old books, that entitles the lowliest of them to a de- gree of respect. They were written by grave divines, and learned professors, and sagacious doctors, men who kept aloof from the world, and girded themselves to follow learning through thickets as yet un- cleared, except here and there, by a few scattered pioneers. Author- ship was not then as it is now, when beardless truants, reeking from their masters birch, talk to us from the damp leaves of a flimsy duo- decimo, as if they had been dipped, to the heels, in the fountain of Castalia. It may he a foolish feeling, but I had rather sit upon the level turf of the grave, where the grass grows untrodden, than bow before the statue whose marble pedestal is worn by the knees of idolizing wor- shipers. There are enough to make the air ring with the names of the great or the fortunate, enough to comment and to eulogize, and it is at least harmless, if one retires from the sound of their clamor, to walk with the unsuccessful in their obscurity. Every author, whom we rake from oblivion, becomes to us, as it were, a personal friend. His voice, which was perhaps once heard through all the stately halls of learning, speaks to us alone, and it wears something like a to~e of melancholy affection as it falls through the long interval, on the ear of the last gentle reader. It is indeed but a poor reward for his toil, that a single individual should look with eyes of kindness, on one solitary copy from the liberal edition, which his sanguine hope had deemed insufficient for the expecting universe. Let us trace him for a moment in his career. He was an ambitious schoolboy, and his heart throbbed with vague anticipations of his fu- ture eminence. He heard the names of the dead, who yet lived in their glory, and with them he fondly dreamed should be his portion. His hour of manhood came, and he stepped like an athlete into the arena, warm with the flush of unchastised anticipation. And with manhood came labor and disappointment, but he endured all, and bent down to his task, year after year, until his forehead was seared with wrinkles, and his limbs had stiffened in their scholastic fetters. Then, in his maturity of wisdom, after lavishing his strength in patient study, and long reflection, he formed the project of that enterprise which lies before us in its fulfilment. How fairly was the virgin sheet spread be- fore him, as he sat down to the commencement of his momentous un- dertaking! Time went on, and with it the leaves multiplied beneath 48 Old Books. his assiduous hand. The ancient dame, who set in order every morn- ing the chaos of the preceding day, looked sadly at the closely written manuscript, and shuddered as she thought of the fireside stories of witchcraft. But, perhaps, he was the centre of a loving and admiring family. There is something touching in the affection, the adoration, which a simple-hearted wife indulges for one whom the world may not honor, but who is to her the perfection of mortal excellence, and the consummation of earthly wisdom. The wife of our poor scholar in those unlettered days could hardly copy his papers, or follow him in his investigations; but not the less did she watch his progress and encourage his efforts; and if he read for her approbation some more intelligible portions, it sounded as sweet to her ears as if the muse of eloquence had rocked him in his cradle. His children too,poor things, their little soft hands have shrivelled into age and crumbled into dust, long ago,his children climbed upon his knees, and peeped in mysterious wonder between the pages which shared with them his parental fondness. At last came the day of publication, and the proud array of volumes was displayed on the booksellers counter, some glistening in white parchment, some in black, burnished leather, and amongst them the time-worn and dilapidated copy before us. Nor should the authors own especial one be forgotten, in the softest vellum with deep gilt edging, and the silken mark carefully folded between its leaves. There were no papers to pass their ephemeral judgement on its merits, and no stately journals to arraign it before their solemn tribunals. Critics,those carnivorous animals, now so numerous and so liberal of their teeth and claws to all rash adventurers,there were none. The labor of the scholars life, now finished, was received by the world in silence. The flattering epigrams of one or two indulgent friends, which may still be seen in our antiquated volume, cheered the weary heart of the adult student, and, for the rest, he appealed to the tardy verdict of posterity. Alas, other minds had been on the same track; his favorite thoughts had been anticipated; his conclusions had formed the starting point for bolder thinkers; his errors, cherished until their distorted features were to him as beautiful as truth, had been overthrown. Other voices reach us through the chasm that di- vides us from antiquity; but his has been lost in the darkness, the elements have worn out his name from its monumental tablet, and the record of his labors, which accident has flung into our hands, may be the last filament of the cord that was to bind his memory to the future. The venerable book before me is none of those which have been reprinted, and stereotyped, and vulgarized. The name of Robert Lovell, St. C. C. Oxon. will probably be looked for in vain through all the catalogues of our crowded libraries. Yet was he, with all his de- lusions, a shrewd and learned man, with much of that pleasant quaint- ness that sits so gracefully on the secluded devotee of science. Nor would I speak with irreverence of John Peter Faber, once of Montpelier, and now of Eternity; or of that noble lady whose life he rescued, and who rewarded him, as he tells me, with her jewelled hand, and with many fair children. For spirited defence of his doc- trines against all opposers, for artful evasion of difficulties, and skillful The Song of the Fairies. 49 manceuvring of arguments, he would not suffer in comparison with more renowned champions of learning. There are others, whose friendship and familiarity no one shares with me, and those, minds of no despicable order. It is needless to enumerate them; to do it seems almost like trespassing on a sacred intimacy. It is enough that such intimacies may be formed by all, that they ask not wealth to purchase, or flattery to retain. It is enough that the prisoner of the nineteenth century, sealed up by frost and snow from the light and air of heaven, may find a solace in the humblest pages where the worm of the seventeenth has rioted. 0. W. H. THE SONG OF THE FAIRIES. From the German of Matthison WHAT creatures may be So happy as we? Our mirror, the gleam Of the mountain stream; We dance where the running waters play, We rock on the top of the bending spray, And rest in the flowers at the close of day. From the land and sea, Come hither to me, To the dew-gemmed green, Come follow your queen; In your thin spun crowns of silver gray, Woven from the glow-worms glancing rayf Follow me where the moon-beams play. A veil,bleached white In the pure star-light, You may freely wear Like a robe of air; Through moon and through meadow, and over the lea, From forest and fountain, from lowland and sea, O lightly trip hither to dance with me. In the bower of leaves, Which summer weaves, While the stars in the sky Look down from on high, We will swiftly circle our airy flight, While a host of gnomes in the dim moon-light, Play and sing through the livelong night. To the dance away, With your crowns of gray, And your robes of white, So thin and bright We fly with the winged zephyrs pace; We silently pass, and leave no trace Of footstep upon our dancing place 1 vol. ii. 7

The Song of the Fairies Original Papers 49-50

The Song of the Fairies. 49 manceuvring of arguments, he would not suffer in comparison with more renowned champions of learning. There are others, whose friendship and familiarity no one shares with me, and those, minds of no despicable order. It is needless to enumerate them; to do it seems almost like trespassing on a sacred intimacy. It is enough that such intimacies may be formed by all, that they ask not wealth to purchase, or flattery to retain. It is enough that the prisoner of the nineteenth century, sealed up by frost and snow from the light and air of heaven, may find a solace in the humblest pages where the worm of the seventeenth has rioted. 0. W. H. THE SONG OF THE FAIRIES. From the German of Matthison WHAT creatures may be So happy as we? Our mirror, the gleam Of the mountain stream; We dance where the running waters play, We rock on the top of the bending spray, And rest in the flowers at the close of day. From the land and sea, Come hither to me, To the dew-gemmed green, Come follow your queen; In your thin spun crowns of silver gray, Woven from the glow-worms glancing rayf Follow me where the moon-beams play. A veil,bleached white In the pure star-light, You may freely wear Like a robe of air; Through moon and through meadow, and over the lea, From forest and fountain, from lowland and sea, O lightly trip hither to dance with me. In the bower of leaves, Which summer weaves, While the stars in the sky Look down from on high, We will swiftly circle our airy flight, While a host of gnomes in the dim moon-light, Play and sing through the livelong night. To the dance away, With your crowns of gray, And your robes of white, So thin and bright We fly with the winged zephyrs pace; We silently pass, and leave no trace Of footstep upon our dancing place 1 vol. ii. 7 50 LETTERS FROM OHIO. NO. 1V. I HAVE been repeatedly asked, what are the peculiar inducements to settle in Ohio? The question comes in every possible shape. Is Ohio preferable to Indiana or Illinois? Is your land as rich as fame reports? Is it not sufficiently covered with population already? Is money plenty? Have you many broken banks? Can debts be cob lected? Can children be educated? Are morality and religion cared for? Have you many good scholars? What is your climate? What are your staples? How do your inhabitants get a living? These and such like interrogatories, are daily soliciting answers. Now, as one cannot make time, and is obliged to eat and sleep occasion- ally, he must either devise a summary method of replying to the whole at once, or leave them unanswered; for to reply to each, eparately, is utterly impossible. In this dilemma, it occurred to me, that I might make a general answer through this Magazine. I take it for granted that every body reads it; if not, every body ought to read it. Igno- rantia neminem excusat. Mental starvation would be a just doom to the presumptuous wight, who should neglect to feed himself from such a store-house. Therefore, let all querists take notice that they must look for answers here. These have been partially given in the preceding numbers; they will be continued in this and the succeed- ing, provided the editors do not demur. In this sensible age, men ask for facts. It is a fact, then, that a single acre of Ohio land, without any appliances, has produced one hundred and fourteen bushels of corn. It is a fact, that near Cin- cinnati, nine acres have yielded nine hundred and sixty-three bushels. It is an inference from these facts, that the soil is as rich as nature can provide. Further, it is a fact that Ohio contains twenty-five mill- ions of acres of such land, and only one million of inhabitants. The inference is, that there is ample room for more. It is a fact, that there is not a bank now in operation in Ohio, of which the notes are not perfectly good in every part of the state. The inference is, that bank credit is in a sound and healthy condition. As to the abund- ance of money, I cannot speak from experience. It is a fact, that my coffers are sadly empty. The inference is, that I must go to work. For, to working-men, money is plenty. It is a fact, that manual labor on the average, commands a price one third higher than in the Eastern states. Indeed, so dear is labor, and so cheap is land, that any industrious man can earn money enough in three years to buy an ample farm. The consequence is, that it is next to impossible to pro- cure servants. Frequently, you cannot have them at any price, and, acting on the maxim of Franklin, you must serve yourself It is a fact, that many families, who are abundantly able, and anxious to hire help, do all their work themselves. This is looked upon as a great grievance, particularly in Cincinnati; and induces hundreds to live at board, who, but for this, would be at house.keeping. The infer- ence is, that the young men and women of the Eastern states, who are obliged to labor, could not do a better thing, than come to the West. They might have almost any wages they would ask. They might be

W. W. Letters from Ohio Original Papers 50-54

50 LETTERS FROM OHIO. NO. 1V. I HAVE been repeatedly asked, what are the peculiar inducements to settle in Ohio? The question comes in every possible shape. Is Ohio preferable to Indiana or Illinois? Is your land as rich as fame reports? Is it not sufficiently covered with population already? Is money plenty? Have you many broken banks? Can debts be cob lected? Can children be educated? Are morality and religion cared for? Have you many good scholars? What is your climate? What are your staples? How do your inhabitants get a living? These and such like interrogatories, are daily soliciting answers. Now, as one cannot make time, and is obliged to eat and sleep occasion- ally, he must either devise a summary method of replying to the whole at once, or leave them unanswered; for to reply to each, eparately, is utterly impossible. In this dilemma, it occurred to me, that I might make a general answer through this Magazine. I take it for granted that every body reads it; if not, every body ought to read it. Igno- rantia neminem excusat. Mental starvation would be a just doom to the presumptuous wight, who should neglect to feed himself from such a store-house. Therefore, let all querists take notice that they must look for answers here. These have been partially given in the preceding numbers; they will be continued in this and the succeed- ing, provided the editors do not demur. In this sensible age, men ask for facts. It is a fact, then, that a single acre of Ohio land, without any appliances, has produced one hundred and fourteen bushels of corn. It is a fact, that near Cin- cinnati, nine acres have yielded nine hundred and sixty-three bushels. It is an inference from these facts, that the soil is as rich as nature can provide. Further, it is a fact that Ohio contains twenty-five mill- ions of acres of such land, and only one million of inhabitants. The inference is, that there is ample room for more. It is a fact, that there is not a bank now in operation in Ohio, of which the notes are not perfectly good in every part of the state. The inference is, that bank credit is in a sound and healthy condition. As to the abund- ance of money, I cannot speak from experience. It is a fact, that my coffers are sadly empty. The inference is, that I must go to work. For, to working-men, money is plenty. It is a fact, that manual labor on the average, commands a price one third higher than in the Eastern states. Indeed, so dear is labor, and so cheap is land, that any industrious man can earn money enough in three years to buy an ample farm. The consequence is, that it is next to impossible to pro- cure servants. Frequently, you cannot have them at any price, and, acting on the maxim of Franklin, you must serve yourself It is a fact, that many families, who are abundantly able, and anxious to hire help, do all their work themselves. This is looked upon as a great grievance, particularly in Cincinnati; and induces hundreds to live at board, who, but for this, would be at house.keeping. The infer- ence is, that the young men and women of the Eastern states, who are obliged to labor, could not do a better thing, than come to the West. They might have almost any wages they would ask. They might be Letters from Ohio. 51 called domestics or assistants, instead of servants, if that would please them. They might retire from service, to a freehold of their own, after three years of fidelity and industry, and for the remainder of life, enjoy all the pleasures of abundance and independence. In eight years, by settling in the new counties, the men might reach the dig- nity of legislators, justices of the peace, or even associate judges; and the women might safely count upon becoming the wives of sim- ilar dignitaries. I trust, that I am one of the last to join in the vulgar hue and cry against aristocracy. I believe with Pope some are and must be greater than the rest. There is but one place, where all can be exactly on a level, and that is the grave. It is as much a law of nature that men should excel one another, as that the trees of the for- est should be of different heights, or that hills should rise above plains, and mountains above hills. The universe is filled with diversity, and man forms not an exception. Society cannot exhibit a dead level. As well might you look for a waveless ocean. But while I bow to the aristocracy of nature, and find myself penetrated with a spontaneous feeling of profound respect and admiration, whenever I see a man rising above others by the force of his own efforts, I look with as much contempt as any other person, and more than I know how to express, upon those artificial distinctions, by which one is placed above anoth- er, from adventitious circumstances. And I deem it no small recom- mendation to Ohio, that prescription can give no man power or place. It can neither bring one into good society, nor keep him out. The question is not, who his father was? but, what he is? The ridiculous cant about good family and high connexions, of which so much is bruited in the older cities, even of this republican country, I have scarcely heard this side of the mountains. It is a general observation that the laboring classes are more respected and have more influence, in new states, than in old; this is eminently true in reference to Ohio; and the inference is, that so far as ambition for office and pride of character are motives to emigrate, Ohio appeals to them with great effect. As I have before hinted, every man who wishes it, even if he begins with nothing, can soon become a freeholder. And the moment he has a farm of his own, he may promise himself leisure. The land brings forth almost spontaneously. You have but to sow, and you are sure to reap. The farmer is not obliged to be eternally delving for a scanty subsistence. He finds time to inform and interest himself about public affairs. He talks politics, becomes known, is elected to office, and soon finds himself an influential man. The me- chanic has a similar advantage, from the exorbitant price of that kind of labor. Indeed, the only kind of labor, which is not amply compensated, is intellectual or professional. High salaries and large fees are not known. Teachers, preachers, doctors and lawyers, are miserably paid. Haud inexperitus loquor; I presume I keep within the truth, when I say that a given amount of professional skill and labor, will command a third more compensation in Boston, New-York, or Phila- delphia, than in Cincinnati; and perhaps I might add, twice as much influence. For there has been a prevailing and deep-set jealousy of professional pretension and authority. In this jealousy, quackery finds 52 Letters from Ohio. its appropriate aliment, and it feeds and fattens upon it. Every pro- fession, therefore, has abounded with quacks, because they, from the smallness of their capital, can best afford to work for the price offered, and because, to employ them, looks more republican. In the more thickly settled portions of the state, however, this evil is rapidly di- minishing, and the standard of professional excellence is daily grow- ing higher. As wealth increases, professional compensation increases too. Men who can afford to pay well, will not trust their lives or their property in the hands of those doctors or lawyers who can afford to work cheap. And so it is with respect to education. Hitherto, no class of men have met with so little pecuniary encouragement as teachers. But they already begin to see the dawn of better things. Parents appear to feel the momentous truth, that the instruction which their children receive, does more to determine their future characters, than all other circumstances put together; and hence they become less solicitous about finding the cheapest school. On the contrary, they begin to think it something in favor of a man, that he charges a high price for tuition. It shows, at least, that he himself holds his services in high estimation, and disposes them to make trial. But what would be called a high price here, would be small in the East- ern cities. If I ~vould have a house or a carriage built, or a coat, hat, or pair of boots made, I must give about thirty per cent. more than in Bcston; but if I wish to have a cause argued, a disease cured, or a child instructed, I can have it done about as much cheaper. Nor am I surprised at this discrepancy. The physical wants of men must be satisfied, or the wheels of life will not turn. But their intellectual wants are not so peremptory; they can be neglected without danger to life. Accordingly, in a new country, mechanics are in a much greater demand than professors, and can command a proportionably higher price. This has been the case in Ohio ; and even in Cin- cinnati, this cause still operates. The unparalleled influx of emigra- tion makes the want of a house to live in, the most difficult want to be supplied. No sooner is the corner stone of a tenement laid, than the inquirer finds that it is engaged. in this connexion, I will observe that one thirty-sixth part of all the laad in Ohio, was forever set apart by Congress, for the support of education, and another thirty-sixth, for the support of religion. Never, perhaps, has there been a nobler instance of liberal legisla- tion. The whole territory was laid out into townships, six miles square. These were divided into thirty-six sections, each containing a square mile, and numbered in order. The sixteenth section was consecrated, in perpetuum, to education; and the twenty-ninth to re- ligion. The faith of the state is pledged, that these sections shall never be otherwise appropriated; and subject to this condition, they are left in the hands of the state legislature. In addition to this general provision, several entire townships have been given for the establishment of colleges. All this is the work of the general govern- ment. But, meantime, the state has not been inactive on this all-im- portant subject. By dint of the most energetic and persevering efforts of a few public-spirited individuals, among whom, without injustice to the rest, may be especially mentioned, Nathan Guildford, a native of Massachusetts, the leader in this great enterprise, the glorious Letters from Ohio. 63 system of Free Schools has, within seven years, been established throughout the state. This system is yet in its infancy, but it gives every promise of a vigorous manhood. To support these common schools, in addition to the profits of the land above-mentioned, a tax of three-fourths of a mill upon the dollar is levied upon all the tax- able property of Ohio; and proper provisions are enacted, for carrying the system into complete effect. It may be regarded as matter of surprise, that struggles should have been required to procure such a law. But such was the fact. Although the constitution declares, in words worthy to be written in gold, that SCHOOL5 AND THE MEANS OF INSTRUCTION SHALL FOREVER BE ENCOURAGED BY LEGISLATIVE PROVISION, yet there were many so jealous of their rights as to doubt and even deny the constitutionality of a tax, making it compulsory on every property holder to assist in the support of free schools, whether he sent children to them or not. There were still more who professed to doubt the expediency of the measure. Nor is this objection as yet, wholly removed, though daily diminishing. Indeed, the free schools themselves are their own most eloquent advocates. Their works praise them and silence their enemies. Thank heaven, the law is made, and there is 110 danger of its repeal. Time will but indu- rate and strengthen the noble fabric. While they, to whose efforts we owe it, will have, as they deserve, a bright place in the grateful memory of their posterity. We have Lyceums too, and illechanics Institutes. They are few as yet, but a beginning is made. In Cincinnati the lecture rooms are filled. The best taste of the city is there seen. Only one thing is wanting to their rapid spread, and that is the countenance of men, who, from the position they occupy, give, by their very names, an impetus to any good undertaking; men, I mean, who stand in the same relation to our society, that Story, Webster, Shaw, Sullivan, and the Everetts do to the society of Boston. Almost every mail announces some one of these distinguished men as a lecturer; and I want no better proof of their enligPtened philanthropy. They are gaining, in this unambitious way, a fame that will wear well, for it will be writ- ten on the hearts of their fellow citizens. We have, as yet received rio aid from our statesmen or distinguished lawyers. They have hardly deigned to make their appearance in the hall. The burthen has been borne chiefly by the young men of the city and some of the leading physicians. Among the latter, were it not invidious, I would mention the iiames of two or three, who, notwithstanding the numer- ous calls of an extensive practice and a professorship in the medical school, nevertheless hold themselves ready and willing to bring in their frequent and valuable contributions, to the diffusion of general infor- mation. They deserve and will have the gratitude of the community. I shall advert, at this time, to but one more fact. Slavery is forever prohibited north of the river Ohio. Fugitive slaves are permitted to be recovered and carried back to bondage; but if their master comes here to reside, and brings them with him, they are ipso facto free. They touch our limits, and their fetters fall. 1 cannot join in the too frequent anathemas against slave holders. I look upon slavery as a stupendous calamity, which no words can adequately describe. But it has been entailed upon the present slave holders by their an- 54 The Progress of Ridicule. cestors; and they are no more to blame for it, than are the hapless victims of an hereditary disease. I speak, therefore, in sorrow and not in anger, of this dark blot upon our countrys fame. And while I deprecate and abhor, as much as the slave holders them- selves, the reckless fanaticism of some incendiary writers, I yet thank heaven for the eternal prohibition of slavery in Ohio, as the most transcendant blessing this happy state enjoys. Leaving out of view the injustice, and looking only at the impolicy of slavery, the example of Ohio is worth a book of abstract arguments. Kentucky, for instance, is almost as old again as Ohio. The first lots laid out in Cincinnati, were advertised for sale in a newspaper then printed in Lexington. But the clog of slavery impeded her in the race, and soon Ohio was seen far in advance. The distance between them grows wider and wider. The population of Ohio is now one third greater. To what can this be ascribed, but the prevalence of slavery in Kentucky? The advantage of mild climate is on her side, her soil is equally fertile, and she has an equal extent of boundary on the same noble river. But her work is done by slaves, instead of freemen and freeholders; and this explains the difference. Is it not a striking fact that there is not a single non-slave-holding state in the twenty- four, which does not increase in a more rapid ratio than any of the slave-holding states except Missouri and perhaps Louisiana? But I have not time to pursue the subject further. W. THE PROGRESS OF RIDICULE. Says Satan to his prime minister, Ridicule, how advances your empire, onthat mean little planet yclept Earth? And Ridicule replied I YE ranged the world, and stand alone In my power, and pride, unholy One! The purest, loftiest sons of earth, Have quailed beneath my mocking mirth; And Childhood writhed, as I passed by, And veiled the light of its timid eye. I ye murdered Love, I ye withered Feeling, In its most innocent revealing. Vain were the pleadings of Wealth and Pride, To win back the love of the plighted bride; I came, and conquered; who could hear Unmoved, my cold and heartless sneer? And she disdained, with haughty brow And fixed contempt, her lovers vow; And flung upon her future years, A glorious gift of sighs and tears. A Poet oer my pathway came, Burning with hopes and dreams of fame; My careless wit, and freezing tone~ Weighed to the dust, the aspiring one. I sought the cityand there bowed Before my steps a brilliant crowd; Trembling beneath my withering sneer, Proud heads drooped low; with shame and fear The wayward ones, that dared defy, My subtle power, and searching eye,

L. L. The Progress of Ridicule Original Papers 54-55

54 The Progress of Ridicule. cestors; and they are no more to blame for it, than are the hapless victims of an hereditary disease. I speak, therefore, in sorrow and not in anger, of this dark blot upon our countrys fame. And while I deprecate and abhor, as much as the slave holders them- selves, the reckless fanaticism of some incendiary writers, I yet thank heaven for the eternal prohibition of slavery in Ohio, as the most transcendant blessing this happy state enjoys. Leaving out of view the injustice, and looking only at the impolicy of slavery, the example of Ohio is worth a book of abstract arguments. Kentucky, for instance, is almost as old again as Ohio. The first lots laid out in Cincinnati, were advertised for sale in a newspaper then printed in Lexington. But the clog of slavery impeded her in the race, and soon Ohio was seen far in advance. The distance between them grows wider and wider. The population of Ohio is now one third greater. To what can this be ascribed, but the prevalence of slavery in Kentucky? The advantage of mild climate is on her side, her soil is equally fertile, and she has an equal extent of boundary on the same noble river. But her work is done by slaves, instead of freemen and freeholders; and this explains the difference. Is it not a striking fact that there is not a single non-slave-holding state in the twenty- four, which does not increase in a more rapid ratio than any of the slave-holding states except Missouri and perhaps Louisiana? But I have not time to pursue the subject further. W. THE PROGRESS OF RIDICULE. Says Satan to his prime minister, Ridicule, how advances your empire, onthat mean little planet yclept Earth? And Ridicule replied I YE ranged the world, and stand alone In my power, and pride, unholy One! The purest, loftiest sons of earth, Have quailed beneath my mocking mirth; And Childhood writhed, as I passed by, And veiled the light of its timid eye. I ye murdered Love, I ye withered Feeling, In its most innocent revealing. Vain were the pleadings of Wealth and Pride, To win back the love of the plighted bride; I came, and conquered; who could hear Unmoved, my cold and heartless sneer? And she disdained, with haughty brow And fixed contempt, her lovers vow; And flung upon her future years, A glorious gift of sighs and tears. A Poet oer my pathway came, Burning with hopes and dreams of fame; My careless wit, and freezing tone~ Weighed to the dust, the aspiring one. I sought the cityand there bowed Before my steps a brilliant crowd; Trembling beneath my withering sneer, Proud heads drooped low; with shame and fear The wayward ones, that dared defy, My subtle power, and searching eye, Dead Letters. 5; Within their hearts lone cell, avowed Like homage, with the plebeian crowd. I silenced Reason, quelled Romance, With the self-same Sardonic glance. I crushed with ruthless, fiendish arts, The germs of pure and lofty hearts. I conjured up, with my arch leer, All evil passions; Envy, Fear, Deathless Revenge, and Hate, and Pride, Were ever thronging at my side. I mingled, with a matchless skill The true and false, the good and ill. My quiet mien and fair pretence Dismayed, and baffled Common Sense. And though she scorned my specious wiles, Een Virtue shuddered at my smiles. While springing from her crystal well, I frowned on Truth, who reeling fell; Time flew to raise the trembling maid, But the proud one spurned his proffered aid, And chose in her narrow home to stay. I prithee, unholy Demon,say, Is not my mission nobly done Is not my guerdon richly won? L. DEAD LETTERS, OPENED AND BURNED BY THE POSTMASTER-GENERAL, REVIVED AND PUBLISHED BY TIMOTHY QUICKSAND. LIYRAISON II. Gaudeamus igitur. LETTER CVIII. Charleston, July 10, 18. To Peter 0., Esq. Philadelphia. SIR, Though I have not the honor of being personally acquainted with you, I take the very great liberty to submit a few suggestions to your judgement, at the danger of appearing to you somewhat presumptuous; but, I trust, my honest wish to be of some service to the public, which alone prompted me in this case, will serve as an excuse. I understand that you are about publishing a new edition of your valuable New Uni- versal Letter Writer, or Complete Art of Polished Correspondencea work which has been of infinite use to a great many people. I have been informed that a young gentleman addressed his offer to a lady, and, being well aware that he was unable to compose so elegant a let- ter as he found ready for his occasion in your work, he copied letter XLIX. of your division COURTsHIP AND MARRIAGE. The adored lady being in her turn deeply, and one may say mortally, in love with the copyist of your letter, and at the same time well acquainted with your work, so that she recognized letter XLIX. at first glance, returned,

Dead Letters, Opened and Burned by the Postmaster-General, Revived and Published by Timothy Quicksand Original Papers 55-60

Dead Letters. 5; Within their hearts lone cell, avowed Like homage, with the plebeian crowd. I silenced Reason, quelled Romance, With the self-same Sardonic glance. I crushed with ruthless, fiendish arts, The germs of pure and lofty hearts. I conjured up, with my arch leer, All evil passions; Envy, Fear, Deathless Revenge, and Hate, and Pride, Were ever thronging at my side. I mingled, with a matchless skill The true and false, the good and ill. My quiet mien and fair pretence Dismayed, and baffled Common Sense. And though she scorned my specious wiles, Een Virtue shuddered at my smiles. While springing from her crystal well, I frowned on Truth, who reeling fell; Time flew to raise the trembling maid, But the proud one spurned his proffered aid, And chose in her narrow home to stay. I prithee, unholy Demon,say, Is not my mission nobly done Is not my guerdon richly won? L. DEAD LETTERS, OPENED AND BURNED BY THE POSTMASTER-GENERAL, REVIVED AND PUBLISHED BY TIMOTHY QUICKSAND. LIYRAISON II. Gaudeamus igitur. LETTER CVIII. Charleston, July 10, 18. To Peter 0., Esq. Philadelphia. SIR, Though I have not the honor of being personally acquainted with you, I take the very great liberty to submit a few suggestions to your judgement, at the danger of appearing to you somewhat presumptuous; but, I trust, my honest wish to be of some service to the public, which alone prompted me in this case, will serve as an excuse. I understand that you are about publishing a new edition of your valuable New Uni- versal Letter Writer, or Complete Art of Polished Correspondencea work which has been of infinite use to a great many people. I have been informed that a young gentleman addressed his offer to a lady, and, being well aware that he was unable to compose so elegant a let- ter as he found ready for his occasion in your work, he copied letter XLIX. of your division COURTsHIP AND MARRIAGE. The adored lady being in her turn deeply, and one may say mortally, in love with the copyist of your letter, and at the same time well acquainted with your work, so that she recognized letter XLIX. at first glance, returned, 56 Dead Letters. overflowing with love, and intoxicated with happiness, the following expressive and happy answer See Letter LVIII. which, refer- red to by the successful suitor, told him at once, in the gentlest, most select and elegant phraseology, the unspeakable joy, and inexpressi- ble bliss which awaited him. This, and other facts have proved to me, how great a service you have done to men by keeping, ready for them, epistolary effusions in the very moment when it is the most difficult to give utterance to passion, joy or grief; for instance, when a father died, when a child was born, when a difficulty arose between husband and wife, when a mortal falls heedlessly in love, and for the like occasions, iu which it is often in the same degree necessary to give vent to the most excited feelings as they are overpowering, and thus debar every self-effusion. Then, in such trouble and anxiety, appears your work, like a true friend in need, who speaks when our sobbing joy or grief suffocates every attempt to utter words. Never have I missed any thing in my life so much, as, when I heard the first time of the conquest of Warsaw, and the noble Poles, and I wished to write of, and on it, to a friend of mine, I missed a letter for the occasion in your book. Pray, Sir, add in your new edi- tion, a few letters on the conquest of free nations, on eruptions of nul- lification, on the defeat of an election, on the breaking out of revolutions, on th aurora borealis, on early snow, & c. The chief points, however, respecting which I would take the liber- ty to make a few suggestions are the following I do not find in any work on epistolary styleand I have read all those which are acknowledged to be the best in most modern languages of Europethat the most essential points of a perfect letter are treated of. If I were bold enough to give you any advice, I would say, print as the first rule, in red types Before you write a letter, consider well, whether it is worth while to write it. Secondly, I would print in silver types Then weigh well whether the letter is worth receiving. And thirdly, I would print in golden types Then weigh and consider whether the letter is worth the postage. If all these rules were duly complied with, how few bad letters should we receive, and how much postage should we save! Is there any thing so provoking in this world as to receive a triple, an ounce letter, with cursed slips of newspapers, or little prints, which a friend sends to you from abroad, perhaps to Charleston, because a vessel was just going from his place to New-Bedford? Or, as I received once a letter in Boston via New-Orleans! My friend undoubtedly thought the letter sent to Boston via New-Orleans, would make an infinitely short- er way than via Cape Horn, and I must allow there he was right. This reminds me of my worthy barber, a Sicilian, who told me that when he was in Algiers, and wishing to go to the United States, he embarked in a vessel which was just going to Calcutta. Unnecessary postage puts me in a rage; it is hard to pay for the stupidity of your correspondents, and how can you evade it? if you wont do as the gen- tleman did, with whom I served my apprenticeshiphe held the let- ters sealed with a wafer over steaming water, until the wafer abandon- Dead Letters. 57 ed its pasting power and closing quality, read the letter, and returned it to the post-office, if he did not think the letter worth the postage? T think, as there is in all great capitals of the European continent a bureau, or board, for opening suspected letters, and kindly sealing them again, so a number of merchants might employ a skilful letter- peeper, in order to return silly epistles, as well sealed as they were origi- nally. What postage might be saved Though no body can say that I often am detected in committing poetry, yet, one evening, after I had just received such an outrageous triple epistle, my fury broke loose, and howled in the following rhymes Oh ye, whose thoughts on easy wing Take quick and lofty flight; Think, postage is a dreadful thing, The dearest copy-right! And yet how many letters sent Are empty, dull, and queer; We should not think them worthacent, But postage makes them dear. On every thing a tax is laid, Clocks, ribbons, rags and wax; The tithe is for salvation paid, Postage is friendships tax. I should not send these verses, which are a true representation of the emptiness against which I would make war, had I not determined to expiate them by a paid, in smiling red characters on the outside of the letter. I again ask your pardon for having intruded so unceremoniously upon your time and patience, and hope you will permit me to call myself, Sir, Your obedient servant, HENRY HuDsoN . LETTER CXIX. London, June 5, 18.. To Thomas & uart , New-London. M~ DEAR TOM, I was exceeding glad to hear from you, that you are getting on so well. Thank you, thank you, my boy, for your cheering news. What is better in these sad times than good news from a dear friend? I would give all the newspapers of a week for one letter from a fellow I love. It gave me double pleasure to see that you were so contented in New- London, because when I spent a week there, chained as I was by con- trary winds, in the month of January, some years ago, I thought even Ferdinand VII. and Dom Miguel, when they call themselves kings by the grace of God, do not utter a greater lie, than he who first called that place New-London. I am sorry that I cannot return as good news as you gave me! Something very serious, very important, has happened to me; it has made me quite grave and contemplative. vOL. ii. 8 58 Dead Letters. Yesterday morninghearken! I discovered my first gray hair. Stop, said I; stop, Charles, pause a moment; look at ita gray hair! Hem 1The harbinger of those years, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them. Quite gently he first knocks at the door, hardly perceptible, or he slily creeps in, wherever there is a little hole. Close the windows, bolt the door, live in an island-castle, he follows you yet, and bids defiance to all your defence. One gray hair follows the other, one hair after the other leaves you; one tooth rots after the other; one wrinkle comes after the otherall unbiddenevery year steals something from you, and brings nothing. Time plucks one feather af- ter the other. But I may cheat the molesting messenger of old age, and of that which lurks behind it. There are scratches which hide the baldness of your scalp; nobody will perceive that it is not your own; I may have teeth, whiter and more regular than my own ever were; I can color the remaining hair, and force the gray one to look young; I can darken the brows, and even the leanness of age, may be changed into the fullness of youth; yet he finds you under your crust, as the slow fever finds the proud warrior under his shining armor. Thou goest down, whatever thy art may contrive, down-hill, whether thou dancest gaily, or walkest slowlydown thou goest until thou stoppest, where thou, and all thine art are at an endat the grave. Thy afflicted friends may, indeed, place a wreath even on thy bier; yet a wreathed bier is but a bier, and a crowned corpse is but a corpse. And what then? Thine art will moulder with thee, and naked shalt thou rise. Then it will be well to say: omnia mea mecumporto. Then thou shalt stand on thy own self. Hast thou not seen rich men, who lived gay, were flattered, and stood equal with the most gifted? Suddenly they failed; reduced upon themselves, they were their own test. Some of them showed that they were better than their treasures; manfully they worked their new way. Others proved that they had been but the accidental appendix to their wealth, a collective name of their riches, a label, a nothing. Thus, Charles, as this is the trial of talent and energyp that awful other one will be the trial of thy very soul. It is true; look in the face of the fact. There will be no paint- ing, no cheat, no hiding, no hushing over. Beware, collect thyself look back, and ask what hast thou done? Look forward, and ask what shalt thou do? Consider, resolve and act; have no fear and be a man. That brings tomy mind Leibnitzs theory, that the soul will been- gaged in yonder life, principally in those truths and occupations, the pursuit of which engrossed us, when on the globe ; a mathematician will view the vast field of mathematical truths; a botanist will see the essence of plants, the laws according to which they color themselves so beautiftilly, and draw all the variegated fragrance from the same nourishment without color and without odor; and the secret working of natures life, when the reviving rays of lovely spring change the cheerless colors of the remains of winter into the gentle green of hope. I think it a fine, a cheering theory; and yet what becomes of the sex- ton, who counted how often the word and appears in the Bible? Has he to count the ands of all works of all libraries, the codices in the libraries on the Jupiter and Pallas, and the great Porcellian Library, in Cambridge, not excepted? What becomes of the Suabian school- master, John James Heberle, who keeps an accurate account of all the Dead Letters. 59 blows, switches, slaps, calottes, fillips, & c. which this pedantic Turk inflicts upon his pupils ?* Shall he have an insight into all the school-rooms in the whole universe, the primary, public, grammar and high-schools for males and females, academies, colleges and universi- ties, on all the planets, and fixed stars, and into all the schools of the nebula, and count all the fillips in the vast creation? What shall be- come of a zealous collector of seals, as there are in Europe so many? Shall they be condemned to study the coat of arms of all beings on earth, under the water and above the clouds? What, oh Heaven! becomes of a statistical writer, or lexicographer? I wonder, however, whether I shall know in the other world, who Junius was; and whether General Eliot has really seen the sea-serpent; and whether those noble, poor, dis- appointed fellows, Parry, Lyon and Franklin will know whether there is a north-west passage or not. By the bye The days of chivalry are gone, says Burke; the days of chivalry have come, say I. Does the chivalric spirit consist in a steel coat from tip to toe, leaving but just one chance to be killed? Was the little drummer boy, who drummed like a hero at the side of Bonaparte, when he rushed over the bridge of Lodi into the enemy, and glory, and an empire, no chivalric fellow? Were the two grenadiers, who jumped near the Pirna gate of Dresden, upon a redoute, and marched upon it up and down till they were shot dead merely because Napoleon, seeing that the cannoniers in the redoute began to fear the Prussian riflemen, who shot one ~f them after the other, had told them, just turning round Go my friends, show how Frenchmen stand firewere they not brave? Or was it not chivalricI do not say whether it was right or wrong,when in 1809, that Prussian officer at Wesel preferred to be executed by the French, with his comrades, though a pardon was offered to him, with- out any farther condition? Millions of instances might be given for one. Or does Burke weep over the noble customs and elegant manners of the chivalric ages, fled forever from sober mankind? Burke, Burke, if so, either thou jokest, or thou didst not know history. But the knight- errants ~. Those we have not! Those were high-hearted men,the Amadis and Lancelot. Confound your Don Quixotes! We have better knight-errants. Is it not heroic when the bold adventurer of science presses upon his lonely path, struggling against scorching rays, and sav- age beasts, and still savager men, and thirst, and hunger, and fever, not for an adored mistress who never existedworshipers of ab- surdity !but for that heavenly inquisitiveness to know, as Plato calls it? The Humboldts, the Clappertons, the Parries, Park, Laing, Caill6, Lewis, Clark, Mollien, Hornemann, Niebuhr, Burkhardt, Ehrenberg, Marcius, Spix, New-Wied, Denham, Bowditch, Campbell, Lander, Burchelthose are our knight-errants, our martyrs. Nay! I have often thought it would be well to write a martyrologium of all the glorious names of those who died in the cause of science. It would be an edifying, elevating, ennobling list. Poor chaps, like ourselves, read- ing it, would feel a little better for belonging to the same race with those * John James Heberle, a schoolmaster, in Suabia, keeps a register of all the punishments he in- flicts on his scholars. This register rontained the following entries a short time since 9,111,517 blows with a rod, 12,010 of a slight switch, 20,989 slaps with a rule, 136,715 cuffs with his fist, 10,235 calottes, 7905 fillips, 1,115.800 taps on the head, and 12,763 additional tasks. There was besides an entry of his having 777 times made scholars go on their knees. [German paper.] 60 The Hebrew lPlinst,-els Lament. gallant knights of knowledge. This was a long excursion, but men- tioning above the names of Laing and Parry, set at once my indigna- tion at work, and on it rattled, like an alarm watch in the morning. I beg your pardon, and so, good bye, my dear fellow. The nonsense grew longer than I thought, when I began ita letter which would do honor to mother Goose. Good bye. Ever yours, CHARLES W. . P. S. My father, at Leominster, is still the old, kindhearted gentle- man, as you knew him, wishing well to every one, but a little ente~te~. I cannot persuade him to regulate his watch after the town clock; he says And if all the world is wrong, I will at least regulate my watch after the sun with the due corrections indicated by the almanac. The consequence is that all the world, following the incorrect town clock, breakfast, dine, and sup, at a convenient hour, and that my father is ~tlways too late or too early, with his watch astronomically regulated. TilE HEBREW MINSTREL~S LAMENT. FROM the hills of the west, as the suns setting beam Cast his last ray of glory oer Jordans lone stream, While his fast falling tears with its waters were blent, Thus poured a lone minstrel his saddened lament. Awake, harp of Judah! that slumbering hast hung On the willows that weep where thy prophets have sung; Once more wake, for Judah, thy wild notes of wo, Ere the hand that now strikes thee lies mouldering and low. Ah! where are the choirs of the glad and the free, That woke the loud anthem responsive to thee, When the daughters of Salem broke forth in the song, While Tabor and Hermon its echoes prolong? And where are the mighty, who went forth in pride, To the slaughter of kings, with their ark at their side? They sleep, lonely stream, with the sands of thy shore, And the war-trumpets blast shall awake them no more Oh Judah, a lone scattered remnant remain To sigh for the graves of their fathers in vain; And to turn toward thy land with a tear-brimming eye, And a prayer that the advent of Shiloh be nigh. No beauty in Sharon,on Carmel no shade, Our vineyards are wasted, our altars decayed; And the heel of the heathen insulting has trod, On the bosoms that bled for their country and God. z.

Z. Z. The Hebrew Minstrel's Lament Original Papers 60-61

60 The Hebrew lPlinst,-els Lament. gallant knights of knowledge. This was a long excursion, but men- tioning above the names of Laing and Parry, set at once my indigna- tion at work, and on it rattled, like an alarm watch in the morning. I beg your pardon, and so, good bye, my dear fellow. The nonsense grew longer than I thought, when I began ita letter which would do honor to mother Goose. Good bye. Ever yours, CHARLES W. . P. S. My father, at Leominster, is still the old, kindhearted gentle- man, as you knew him, wishing well to every one, but a little ente~te~. I cannot persuade him to regulate his watch after the town clock; he says And if all the world is wrong, I will at least regulate my watch after the sun with the due corrections indicated by the almanac. The consequence is that all the world, following the incorrect town clock, breakfast, dine, and sup, at a convenient hour, and that my father is ~tlways too late or too early, with his watch astronomically regulated. TilE HEBREW MINSTREL~S LAMENT. FROM the hills of the west, as the suns setting beam Cast his last ray of glory oer Jordans lone stream, While his fast falling tears with its waters were blent, Thus poured a lone minstrel his saddened lament. Awake, harp of Judah! that slumbering hast hung On the willows that weep where thy prophets have sung; Once more wake, for Judah, thy wild notes of wo, Ere the hand that now strikes thee lies mouldering and low. Ah! where are the choirs of the glad and the free, That woke the loud anthem responsive to thee, When the daughters of Salem broke forth in the song, While Tabor and Hermon its echoes prolong? And where are the mighty, who went forth in pride, To the slaughter of kings, with their ark at their side? They sleep, lonely stream, with the sands of thy shore, And the war-trumpets blast shall awake them no more Oh Judah, a lone scattered remnant remain To sigh for the graves of their fathers in vain; And to turn toward thy land with a tear-brimming eye, And a prayer that the advent of Shiloh be nigh. No beauty in Sharon,on Carmel no shade, Our vineyards are wasted, our altars decayed; And the heel of the heathen insulting has trod, On the bosoms that bled for their country and God. z. 61 A LEGEND OF CHRISTMAS EVE. I shall tell you A prosing tale; it may be you have heard it; But since it serves my purpose, I will venture To scale t a little more. CoaloLArrus. Tnn conjurer sat at his books. The various utensils of his art were scattered around him,a horoscope, globe, astrolabe and quadrant, and huge volumes of mysterlous characters and an unknown tongue. He was an adept in the black art, shrewdly conversant with whatever might excite the superstition of the credulous, and usually made his calculations with a sagacity that baffled detection. The old man was poring over one of these tomes, when he raised his keen gray eye from the volume as the door opened, and a stranger presented himself. He was of small stature, attired in a rustic garb; his visage thin and wrinkled, and his little black eyes hardly separated by an attenuated apology for a nose. The intruder stood silent for a few moments, as if hesitating how to address the man of forbidden knowledge. He that would consult the stars, said the conjurer, must view them in a mirror of silver; the book of fate is sealed to him who comes empty-handed. At this hint the stranger drew from his pocket a well-worn purse of heart-case, and fingering the contents of the bag, deposited a few small coins in the palm of the conjurer. I would know, said he, if there is money buried on the great island down the river U He of the horoscope opened ~one of the huge volumes of mystery, and began slowly turning the leaves with great care. Apparently un- satisfied, he handled the astrolabe for a few moments, and at length fell to figuring with earnestness. There is gold there which may not be touched by mortal hands, said he, suspending his calculations; it is the charmed treasure of the pirate. I dreamed it,I dreamed it ! said the visiter, leaning towards the table and casting a furtive glance at the talisman; but is there no way,have you not power to disenchant it ?where is it buried ? The geomancer drew his wand over a cycle inscribed with the characters of the heavens, and again turned the leaves of the myste- rious volume. At length he began muttering, Seventeen hundred andSaturn ascendant,Arcturus glares like a cresset, and Bootes is grim with blood. Enough !there was murder when the chest was buried, and the spirit of the dead watches the gold. There was a convulsive movement in the features of the stranger, and his little black eyes for a moment gleamed with an expression of horror. It soon gave way to the all-absorbing passion of his being. But where is it buried ? he repeated. On the south end of the island. Some rods from the water stands an old elm alone. On the fifteenth day of the moon, at midnight, its shadow will fall directly on the iron chest. Measure five paces from the roots, and at the shadow of the junction of a great western limb with the trunk of the tree, dig for your life. You will see and hear

Z. Z. A Legend of Christmas Eve Original Papers 61-65

61 A LEGEND OF CHRISTMAS EVE. I shall tell you A prosing tale; it may be you have heard it; But since it serves my purpose, I will venture To scale t a little more. CoaloLArrus. Tnn conjurer sat at his books. The various utensils of his art were scattered around him,a horoscope, globe, astrolabe and quadrant, and huge volumes of mysterlous characters and an unknown tongue. He was an adept in the black art, shrewdly conversant with whatever might excite the superstition of the credulous, and usually made his calculations with a sagacity that baffled detection. The old man was poring over one of these tomes, when he raised his keen gray eye from the volume as the door opened, and a stranger presented himself. He was of small stature, attired in a rustic garb; his visage thin and wrinkled, and his little black eyes hardly separated by an attenuated apology for a nose. The intruder stood silent for a few moments, as if hesitating how to address the man of forbidden knowledge. He that would consult the stars, said the conjurer, must view them in a mirror of silver; the book of fate is sealed to him who comes empty-handed. At this hint the stranger drew from his pocket a well-worn purse of heart-case, and fingering the contents of the bag, deposited a few small coins in the palm of the conjurer. I would know, said he, if there is money buried on the great island down the river U He of the horoscope opened ~one of the huge volumes of mystery, and began slowly turning the leaves with great care. Apparently un- satisfied, he handled the astrolabe for a few moments, and at length fell to figuring with earnestness. There is gold there which may not be touched by mortal hands, said he, suspending his calculations; it is the charmed treasure of the pirate. I dreamed it,I dreamed it ! said the visiter, leaning towards the table and casting a furtive glance at the talisman; but is there no way,have you not power to disenchant it ?where is it buried ? The geomancer drew his wand over a cycle inscribed with the characters of the heavens, and again turned the leaves of the myste- rious volume. At length he began muttering, Seventeen hundred andSaturn ascendant,Arcturus glares like a cresset, and Bootes is grim with blood. Enough !there was murder when the chest was buried, and the spirit of the dead watches the gold. There was a convulsive movement in the features of the stranger, and his little black eyes for a moment gleamed with an expression of horror. It soon gave way to the all-absorbing passion of his being. But where is it buried ? he repeated. On the south end of the island. Some rods from the water stands an old elm alone. On the fifteenth day of the moon, at midnight, its shadow will fall directly on the iron chest. Measure five paces from the roots, and at the shadow of the junction of a great western limb with the trunk of the tree, dig for your life. You will see and hear 62 A Legend of Christmas Eve. what might appall a bolder man,but speak never a word. The mo- ment a human voice is heard, the spell is broken. If you succeed, there is enough to make you a nabob. Another tribute was levied on the purse of the visiter, who took leave in the confidence of success. There was a belief prevalent at that time, among many of the good people of New-England, that the noted Kidd had in one of his cruises ascended the Connecticut, and buried, on its numerous islands, im- mense treasures of his hoarded booty. This belief was strengthened by the confession of an old African, who declared, on his death bed, that he had been employed in the capacity of cook on board the pirati- cal vessel; and whose incoherent answers to the eager interrogations of those who shrived him, confirmed sundry dark hints, he had thrown out previously. He even pointed out this island in question, as the re- pository of the treasures of a Spanish galleon he had seen plundered and burned; but whispered, with a shudder, that the deposite was guarded by the ghost of the butchered boatswain. The effects of this story on those who hasted to be rich were astonishing. Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad. Many were the adventurers who haunted this new El Dorado, and fearful were the perils they were reported to have encountered in their search for the unhallowed hoard. The substance of the present legend formed the subject of a fire-side tale, which the writer in his boyhood heard of a long winter evening recounted by the identical hero of the adventure, and who was introduced to the reader in his interview with the conjurer. The latter was none other than the celebrated necro- mancer, Ballou; and the old gentleman never concluded the story, without remarking, with great solemnity, that shortly after this event, he of the familiar spirit died suddenly in his bed, agreeably to a pre- diction of his own, when apparently in perfect health, not six hours previous. Be this as it may, our hero returned home with the bewildered feel- ings of one who has suddenly drawn, a capital prize. The almanac was daily consulted with the eagerness of one who would fain move forward the shadow on the dial; and the long weary days, which inter- vened before the appointed time, were eked out in the sickness of hope deferred. He would occasionally kill a lingering hour by projecting princely improvements on his little farm, which lay meanwhile like the garden of the sluggard; the conjurers talisman, like the wand of Prospero, seemed at a stroke to have converted his humble tenement into the dwelling of a prince; and air-castles swam before his heated imagination in all the gorgeousness of romance. But it was in his dreams, which spoke like Sybils of the future, that he revelled in the full fruition of a more than oriental sumptuousness,a boundless- ness of wealth that would have beggared the kings of the - genii. Chests of gold and silver, mines of caverned riches, avalanches of jewels tumbling around him, gnomes and goblins, a whole cosmorama of Sinbad fantasies mocked his slumbers, till the good woman at his side, in innocent ignorance of the latter day glory that awaited her, A Legend of Ckristrnas Eve. 63 deemed him, as he lay tossing around, the prey of some fearful and damning secret. He had as yet lisped the revelation in no mortal ear, sensible as he was that a participation in the hazard of the adventure would induce a participation in the spoil. Besides, his mind had hith- erto been so absorbed in the disposal of the anticipated prize, that he had scarcely bestowed a thought on the means by which it was to be obtained. But as the appointed day drew nigh, difficulties began to present themselves which filled him with misgivings. His unassisted efforts might prove insufficient for the removal of the ponderous treas- ure; and he could not conceal from himself that a companion of flesh and blood would, to say the least, be very convenient in an adventure which might call for the interposition of an incorporeal agency. Gladly would he have availed himself of the cooperation of the part- ner of his wordly thrift; but the injunction of the conjurer that not a word should be spoken,alack! Ichabod was written on the very face of it. From this dilemma we leave the good man to extricate himself; premising at the same time that his nearest neighbor was an elderly bachelor brother, whose heir presumptive he flattered himself to be; and who, in case of his enlisting his services, would still, as the saying is, retain the property in the family. It was now the green depth of summer, and the broad banks and meadows of the Connecticut were teeming with the luxuriance of vegetation. As yet, steam-boats were in the womb of futurity, and the light water-craft with which the followers of the adventurous Led- yard navigated this beautiful river, had but recently given place to the lumbering batteau of the merchant. Ever and anon, as its huge sail hung lazily flapping over the dark waters, the rude song of the boatmen might be heard as he wrought at the oar, swelling out among the numerous coves and inlets which bordered its margin, or answer- ed in echoes, faintly multiplied among the mountains beyond. Even this was of so rare occurrence as to attract attention; and the honest rustic on the banks, as it swept along, would lean for a moment on the implement of his labor, to dream of distant voyages, shipwrecks, and the perils of the water. The shout and merry laugh of childhood was heard among the clustering elms that bordered the stream; and the pattering of little feet came across the water from the smooth line of beaten sand along its margin. But there was one who gazed on all this with a vacant eye,he was revelling in the immateriality of a world of his own creation. He called to a little urchin who was clambering the thick vines with a group of his fellows, and muttered, as he parted the flaxen curls from his forehead, to-morrowand the young rogue will be the son of a nabob. It was late in the brilliant evening ensuing, that a small boat might be seen to push from the shore, and shoot noiselessly across the river in the direction of the island. The moon was near her zenith, and a long line of light gleamed across the water, broken only by the ripples that circled around the stern of the little craft, or followed dancing in her wake. Approaching the island, it drew up in the shadow of a small cove, and two dark forms stepped on shore; landing a spade, mattock, and bar, and an old queens arms, which might have been loaded with a silver bullet. Making the boat fast, they cautiously 64 A Legend of Christmas Eve. ascended the bank, and deposited their implements at the foot of an old elm, which threw the shadow of its spreading branches far around over the smooth sod. The younger of the men appeared by far the most active, alternately consulting an old time-piece, which he continually drew from his pocket in anxious restlessness, and throwing fearful glances among the bosky thickets at hand, which lay motion- less as death. The lonely stillness of this wild spot at this witch- ing time of night, the air of mystery thrown over their conversation, which, like the mutes of an eastern seraglio, they carried on only by signs, were all befitting some unholy deed, while The setting of the eye and cheek, proclaimed A matter from them. At length, measuring a few paces from the tree, and once more eye- ing all around with cautious scrutiny, they commenced digging in its shadow. At this moment an object appeared rounding an angle of the shore below, and in an instant a vessel of war under full sail rushed by the island. Not a soul was discoverable on the deck of the phantom ship, but ever and anon, as it boomed sullenly onward, loud shrieks and the crash of swords came mingling with shouts of demo- niac laughter, the losel song of carousal, and the fierce oaths of the bucanier. The money digger rested on his spade, and passed his hand athwart his eyes to convince himself of the reality of the vision ;all had vanished, and he saw only the brazen clasps of the family bible glittering in the moon-beams, which his companion was hugging in an agoi~y of terror. A breathless pause ensued, while their hearts palpitated in audible throbs. Anon, as they resumed their labors, a whale-boat appeared slowly bearing down on the island without sail or oar. Not a voice or sound was heard from that shadowy crew,the the headless helmsman stood at his post with the fixedness of a corse, and his companions were ranged along the bows, with the blood still spouting from each ghastly trunk At this moment the elder of the worthies sunk his bar in the sand, and struck the lid of the iron treasure chest with a jar. The presence of mind, which had bridled his tongue in spite of the demon visitations, now forsook him in the moment of success. There it is, by heaven ! he exclaimed, leaping up in an ecstacy. And there it is ! screamed the other, hurling his mattock full at his brothers head in the frenzy of one whose hopes are blasted at a breath. There was a low rumbling beneath their feet, and the ponderous mass passed slowly from under them as the spectral boat gradually melted into moonlight. Z. REFORM. AN Opinion has of late been advanced, on very high authority, that the action of governments is becoming less important, and that of individuals more so. We suspect this is an error. It would perhaps be nearer the truth to say, that the agency of individuals in the gov- ernment is becoming less important, and that of the community more so. Governments are becoming more popular; public opinion is gain.. ing more strength. Less therefore depends, in any form of govern- ment, on the caprices of the individuals who compose it, and a greater deference is required from the governors to the wishes and opinions of the subjects of their government. But, for this very reason, and after these conditions have been complied with, government is not weaker but stronger. It has gained, by all the force of that pub.. lic opinion, which has been gratified by the mode, in which the gov- ernment is constituted and carried on. It is strong, because it is popular, and as long as it is popular; stronger than a government, nominally more absolute, exerted over a discontented and disaffected community. No government is so strong, as a party; we mean, no where is the will of a government obeyed so implicitly, as the will of the recog- nized organs of a well-drilled party. A republican government, within its sphere, is more powerful than a monarchy. General Jack- son has much more personal power than Charles X. who, after the round of official observance was gone through,after the courtiers had bowed, and the guards had presented arms,had really no power at all. But it has become necessary to governments, to act in conformity with the interests and opinions of the people. This is the great change, which has taken place, and is still proceeding. This is the great reform bill of the age, introduced not by kings and ministers, but by those mighty causes of improvement, which have been in action since the revival of letters, bu~ have received their greatest development within the last seventy years. Governments were formerly organized on the pretence of promoting the welfare of the people. Some body,certain privileged orders,in- heriting the power of government from generation to generation, were supposed to have a call of Providence to govern; and they were conse- quently presumed to have the disinterested wish to govern, not for their own sakes, but for the good of the people. It was further supposed, that the people did not know so well what was for their welfare, as these rulers did, who were understood to be inspired with supernatural wisdom, to fit them for the discharge of their high functions. This was the theory and practice of the governments; and to make the state of facts, as far as possible, support this theory and practice, the people were kept as ignorant as possible, and their interests as far as possible identified with the preservation of the ascendancy of the priv- ileged orders. There was no public opinion therefore on the part of the mass. The great vice of the existing governments is, that they are organ- ized on the old plan; with much of the old machinery, while the VOL. II. 9

Reform Original Papers 65-71

REFORM. AN Opinion has of late been advanced, on very high authority, that the action of governments is becoming less important, and that of individuals more so. We suspect this is an error. It would perhaps be nearer the truth to say, that the agency of individuals in the gov- ernment is becoming less important, and that of the community more so. Governments are becoming more popular; public opinion is gain.. ing more strength. Less therefore depends, in any form of govern- ment, on the caprices of the individuals who compose it, and a greater deference is required from the governors to the wishes and opinions of the subjects of their government. But, for this very reason, and after these conditions have been complied with, government is not weaker but stronger. It has gained, by all the force of that pub.. lic opinion, which has been gratified by the mode, in which the gov- ernment is constituted and carried on. It is strong, because it is popular, and as long as it is popular; stronger than a government, nominally more absolute, exerted over a discontented and disaffected community. No government is so strong, as a party; we mean, no where is the will of a government obeyed so implicitly, as the will of the recog- nized organs of a well-drilled party. A republican government, within its sphere, is more powerful than a monarchy. General Jack- son has much more personal power than Charles X. who, after the round of official observance was gone through,after the courtiers had bowed, and the guards had presented arms,had really no power at all. But it has become necessary to governments, to act in conformity with the interests and opinions of the people. This is the great change, which has taken place, and is still proceeding. This is the great reform bill of the age, introduced not by kings and ministers, but by those mighty causes of improvement, which have been in action since the revival of letters, bu~ have received their greatest development within the last seventy years. Governments were formerly organized on the pretence of promoting the welfare of the people. Some body,certain privileged orders,in- heriting the power of government from generation to generation, were supposed to have a call of Providence to govern; and they were conse- quently presumed to have the disinterested wish to govern, not for their own sakes, but for the good of the people. It was further supposed, that the people did not know so well what was for their welfare, as these rulers did, who were understood to be inspired with supernatural wisdom, to fit them for the discharge of their high functions. This was the theory and practice of the governments; and to make the state of facts, as far as possible, support this theory and practice, the people were kept as ignorant as possible, and their interests as far as possible identified with the preservation of the ascendancy of the priv- ileged orders. There was no public opinion therefore on the part of the mass. The great vice of the existing governments is, that they are organ- ized on the old plan; with much of the old machinery, while the VOL. II. 9 Reform. state of the world is entirely changed. Education is so common that the great mass of the people in several parts of Europe, read, write, and think. Thus they are able to form their own opinions. The pro- digious extension of the operations of the press, and the great facili- ties for communication of all kinds, have formed, out of this mass of private opinions, a public sentiment of uncalculated power. The Ro- mans intersected the world with imperial roads, designed for the march of their armies to the remotest provinces; hut the canals and turnpikes, the railroads and steamboats of the last century, have proved so many means of facilitating the intercourse of the members of the community, and giving concentration to their opinions and wishes. All governments have undergone and must constantly undergo great changes, by the mere force of circumstances. The governors like the governed, are men, subject to the laws of human nature and the action of social influences. Compare Alexander with Peter the Great; each a despotruling the same people, and with an interval between their reigns of less than a century. Alexander is a polished, benev- olent gentleman; Peter the Great an enlightened savage. In the grad- ual amelioration of modern society, all its orders and classes have been much improved. The ancient ferocity of government has been abated; and the life of man, that inexplicable essence,the thing in which a perpetual miracle seems wrought before our eyes,life has been raised up from its ancient state of worthlessness. If one wished to point out the most affecting instance of ancient barbarity, (and by antiquity, we mean all time prior to the last century,) he might well fix on the recklessness of human life, which prevailed in all countries, as it still prevails in the East. It is shocking to see with what levity eminent individuals, on the slightest turn of affairs, were led to the scaffold, and sanguinary laws enforced on thousands of the humbler ranks of the community. But the great difficulty in Europe is, that, except these changes, in- sensibly produced by events and not implying the necessary modifica- tion of the great institutions of government, no improvement can take place, but in the way of revolution. The privileged orders constantly fear, that a change proposed will go too far, or they affect this fear, and the privileges of their order, are, in some cases, themselves, the evil to be reformed. Thus it is with the Reform in England. It is opposed by the aristocratic party, not so much from incurable aversion to the measure itselg as from a just fear of its natural consequences. The radical party, where they advocate it, do so, not because it goes far enough, but because they regard it as a pledge of more thorough change. While the reforming aristocracy defend it on a ground, which renders it justly suspicious to the friends of liberal institutions, viz, that it will strengthen and not subvert the existing aristocracy of Great-Britain. Now, an artificial, privileged, and hereditary aristocracy is an insti- tution altogether at war with all the notions of natural law and of human nature, which, originating with the theoretical writers of the latter part of the seventeenth century, have grown in our day into common place. There is no true aristocracy but that of personal qualities of mind, body, and fortune. The two first cannot he transmitted; the latter can be transmitted only to a limited degree, under the direct patronage of the Reform. 87 law; and the spirit of the age tends strongly to counteract such legisla- tion. This being the case, the controlling power exercised by the heads of the aristocracy in former times, over all the other members of the state, cannot possibly be tolerated in communities, where this aristoc- racy is in no respect discriminated from the mass of well educated citizens around them. We see this in France. Notwithstanding the recency of their rev- olution, and the tremendous evils which it inflicted on all orders of the communityevils, as it would seem, which would make the word revolution inauspicious in the ears of Frenchmen for centuries to come, and lead them to connect every idea of political and social happiness with the stability of existing things,we yet see an overwhelming majority of the deputies voting down the hereditary peerage. These deputies are not the mob, nor the representatives of a mob. It is not the canaille of Paris, which has decided against a hereditary House of Peers; but it is the intelligent, the well educated, influen- tial members of the community, chosen on a system of elections by no means extremely popular, and representing beyond doubt the sense of the soundest part of the French people. At present, in France, it seems they do not think it wise to go far- ther. In framing the American Constitution, the happy circumstance that the colonies had, from their infancy, been free from a hereditary aristocracy, prevented its being thought of as an element of the new governments. The incongruity of such an institution with the im- proved character of the age was felt too strongly, to admit its being thought of for a moment, and merely in consequence of the fact that it did not previously exist in our society. But will the mere fact that this institution has nominally existed, though with constantly dimin- ishing personal influence, in England, be considered as a sufficient reason for perpetuating it, as a part of a constitutional, government, in defiance of all principles of polity, and in opposition to the feelings and prejudices of the people? In fact there can be no constitution, properly so called, that is not fourMled professedly and substantially on a refer- ence to the popular will. All the rest is military usurpation. The Roman emperors felt this so strongly, that they did not dare to throw off the republican forms. They passed through the dignities of the republic, the tribuneship and consulate themselves, interchanging occasionally with their horses. In modern times, the horse-guards are not formally chosen to high offices of state, but they discharge its most important functions. Can such a state of things be called a constitu- tional government? it is a mitigated military despotism, resting at last on the exhibition and application of force. An enlightened public sentiment may impose considerable restraints on the exclusive and selfish spirit inherent in all bodies possessing a monopoly. If there be an intermixture of democratic institutions,an elective House of Commons for instance,still greater force may be given to this public sentiment. But while the aristocratic principle remains in force, the result of the intermixture will be the constant recurrence of distressing collisions. This grand arcanum of a mixed government is likely to turn out a great delusion. Mixture of what? Of the interests of the people with something that is not of their interests? Of the will of the people with 68 Reform. something which is not of their will? Of institutions in accordance with their feelings and institutions not in accordance with their feel- ings? If this is the mixture of the British government, it may indeed be a wonder that it has lasted so long; but it is a greater wonder that it should have been lauded for its wisdom. But it may be said in simpler language, that it is a mixture of king, lords and commons. But the lords have been reduced by the force of circumstances and the gradual change of things to the condition of the commons. They are part and parcel of the commons. The king, having lost the divine right, is also no more than a man,that is, a commoner. There is therefore in reality nothing to mix. But in compliance with certain antiquated forms, the present British Constitution selects one family, by the chance of birth, and clothes it with royal attributes. It selects the heads of three or four hundred other families by the same chance, and gives them a controlling power in the legislation of the country; and leaves these four hundred and one men, to struggle against their fellow- men. And this is called a mixed government. But the only mixture in it is that of popular will with the lottery of birth. It is a mixture of chance and choice. Now, who wills this mixture? Who orders, constitutes, and upholds it? It is not of divine right,that is abandoned. So then it is man. It is British men, who wish this heterogeneous mixture. Qua~rc de Iwc. We doubt the fact. It is absurd, impossible. It will not bear discussion. Such a mixture can be supported by nothing but force, disguised or open. It is suicidal, and self-contradictory. Was it ever heard of, that intelligent men should, in grave and vital matters, wish their serious deliberations and conclusions to be balanced and mixed up with a reference to chance of any kind? We suppose it must be considered as about an equal chance, in the most favorable supposition,that the privileged orders, on any given subject, should think with or against the people. Their con- currence might, therefore, as well be made to depend on the cast of the dice, as be ascertained in any other way. Now suppose, after the House of Commons have passed a bill,the reform bill for instance, instead of sending it to the Peers for concurrence, they should agree to draw lots, or cast the dice, whether it should become a law or not. What sort of a government would that be? And how much better is the present mixture? There is another thing that deserves consideration. It is the standing reproach of republics in general, and of the American republic in particular, that they are fluctuating and open to continual change. As far as the United States are concerned, this reproach is certainly thus far unfounded. Our Union is composed of numerous independent commonwealths, each with its own constitution, and is itself organized under the constitution of the United States. In every one of these constitutions, (we believe in every one, certainly in those of the most important states,) there is incorporated the conservative principle, by which changes of the constitution are required to be made with great deliberation, and in such a manner as to preclude the possibility of fre- quent and unadvised alterations. In point of fact, although several of the states have once, since their constitutional history began, instituted formal revisions of their constitutions, introducing what have been con- Reform. 69 sidered at the time important amendments, yet has there been no change in any of these republics, which, to a stranger, taking a general view of the subject, would be deemed essential, or just ground for a charge of fluctuation. Thus, within ten years, Massachusetts, New- York and Virginia have revised their constitutions. It is doubtful if any practical change, in the mode in which the government is admin- istered, has resulted from either revision; certainly not from the two first n~imed. At the same time, the process is attended with such diffi- culty, that once in a half a century, judging from experience, is quite as often, as the public mind can be wrought up to its adoption. And yet it should be considered, that, without being justly obnoxious to the charge of fluctuation, it was to be expected, that so many new states, coming out of a protracted revolutionary war, and constructing fbr themselves written constitutions of government, in many respects wholly novel in their principles, should, on the first essay, fall upon experiments that would fail in their farther prosecution. This was the rather to be expected, as the community itself,the people over whom the constitutions were established,was in a constantly changing con- dition, and placed successively in new and unexpected political rela- tions. In the present constitution of the United States, now about forty-four years old, no practical change has been made. It is true the change in the mode of electing the President, substituting separate ballots for President and Vice-President, instead of a joint ballot for two persons, of whom the highest was to be the President and the next Vice-President, is, on paper, a considerable change. But it has been, we think, justly stated, that the same individuals that have been chosen to our Chief Magistracy, since l7S~), would have been chosen, had the change not been made, or had the constitution, in this respect, con- tained from the first the provisions introduced into it by the amend- ment. The entire constitution of 1739 is, we must admit, a change of vital character, from the confederation which preceded it. But it is surely not a change of a revolutionary and disorganizing character. It was an improving, a consolidating change. A change from weak- ness to strength, and from confusion to order. And now so evident is the tendency of our written constitution to permanence, that the friends of reform in and out of Parliament in Great-Britain, have been warned not to forget, that the British constitution is destitute of that con- servative principle, which exists in the constitution of the United States. But there is no virtue in mere technical principles of conservation. In itself, the provision that no amendment shall be made in the consti- tution of the United States, till it has been approved by two thirds of Congress and three-fourths of the states, would be of no avail, were not the foundations of the system laid in principles purely popular. The constitution begins by recognizing the equal rights of the people, and is but an efficient mode of collecting and giving constant expression to their will. There is, therefore, no occasion for those great changes, which are from time to time required in the governments of Europe, to fit the antiquated machinery of the feudal system to the wants of modern society. Beginning with a liberal organization of government, our pure representative system provides an unerring mode of keeping the legislation of the country in constant harmony with public opinion. 70 Reform. The steady and insensible change, required by the change of circum- stances, is silently and peacefully made. Abuses are not allowed to root themselves. If we may so express it, a gentle and constitutional revolution is perpetually going on, as healthful to the body politic, as violent revolutions, at long intervals, are disastrous. In order to get the British constitution into a safe and permanent state, it is probably necessary, if we may be excused the plagiarism from Mrs. Glass, that they should first have a constitution that is an authentic charter of government, to which the people have deliberately given their assent. Many very important institutions in England, integral portions of their constitution so called,seem to have no foun- dation in law, and to rest on mere sufferance. Thus the vote of the spiritual lords in the House of Peers. We do not recollect, and can- not now take time to find out, whether the number of bishops is de- termined by any law in Great-Britain, nor whether the suppression of the convocation as an estate of the realm, the suppression of the mitred abbots, and the introduction of the bishops into the House of Peers, were ever matters of definite enactment. If they were, it was a a good while ago, under a very different positive and relative state of things. There is no authentic instrument constituting the two houses of parliament, and they were arranged into something like their exist- ing separate organization, in an age, when the lords and commons, in their comparative importance as elements of the community,bore not the least resemblance to their present condition. The crown of England was originally a conquest, both in the ordinary and legal sense of that word, and has been transmitted by inheritance under legal modifications, to the present day. The people of England have never given a free deliberate assent to the existing monarchy. There has never beQn a time, when it was an open question. An open ques- tion? There has never been a time, when it could be discussed, with- out involving the adventurous theorist in the pains and penalties of high treason. The consent, which the people of England have given to a government of kings, lords, and commons, is substantially the consent, which a man is very apt to give to any thing offered him, under pain of being hanged, drawn, and quartered. No permanence, no security against revolution can be hoped for, in a system thus vicious in the outset. You may shore it up, and sur- round it with buttresses; but the foundation is insecure. Since the American constitutions have set the example,an example which will become every year more imposing, with the continued prosperity of this country,it will be impossible to content a kindred people, with a chaos of traditionary abuses, under the name of a constitution. We consider it certain, that in no very long time, some means will be pro- vided for organizing, in Great-Britain, a constituent assembly, either by clothing parliament with constituent powers or by a convention specifically organized for the purpose. It is impossible to foretell what sort of a government such a convention would offer to the people. But we doubt not it would be a republic. Not because we as Ameri- cans, think it the best, but because, whether best or not in itself, it is the form of government, which the people, from the nature of things, if left free to choose, will always think the best. Sonnet. 71 It will be seen that we assume the probable permanence of our own constitutions, and ascribe to this circumstance much of the force, which our example is to have, in accelerating the march of reform. We know it is a favorite idea with some, that these constitutions have not been put to the test. But why not? Several of them, in their great features, are near two centuries old. It is true, till 1775, we were under a colonial superintendence; but we do not think the Crown did any thing by way of promoting the permanence of our institutions. It neither kept the peace by an armed force, nor supplied, by a pater- nal administration, any supposed deficiency in the colonial institutions of government. On the contrary, we were traversed and embarrassed, at every step, by ungracious and unfriendly foreign interference. Sinze the revolution, we have certainly passed through a series of political changes, of a nature adapted to put the stability of our institutions to the severest test. It is sometimes said, that the abundance of vacant land o rates as the safety valve of our system. Be it so; and we may promise our- selves, for centuries, all the security derived from this source. Rapidly as our population increases, it must be centuries before North-America is full. But it must not be too hastily inferred, that the strength and efficiency of our forms of government, have been tried only, over a very thin population. Massachusetts has a population of seventy-eight to a square mile. The average population of Europe is but sixty-six to the square mile. We know that our Massachusetts population is any thing but crowded; and the idea that a radically different fhrm of govern.. ment would be required, if our population should be, like that of Eng- land, thrice as dense as it is now, will seem to us, on this side of the water, the merest chimera. On the whole, we believe that the first leaves only of the book of revolutions,we had almost said revelations,are opened for Europe. God grant, as its successive seals are broken, that dispensations, not of confusion and bloodshed, but of peace and improvement, may diffuse their blessings over its inhabitants. SONNET. ON SEEiNG A FLOWER GATHERED FROM JULIETS TOMB. LADY! sweet victim of imperial Love! Who welcomed Death to share a husbands grave, Thy piteous fate can never vainly crave, From human hearts, a sigh! Heavens airs above Waft sympathetic tears, and sadly move, In requiem, the flowers that oer thee wave! Here bend in grief, alike, the gay, the grave. Here melts the iron heart. The widowed dove, Quits her warm nest and here doth learn to weave More melancholy strains. The paths are beat Around with pilgrims feet, and here at eve, The Mecca of the heart! will lovers meet, To hang their offerings of flowers, and grieve The love of her who sleeps beneath their feet. A.

A. A. Sonnet Original Papers 71-72

Sonnet. 71 It will be seen that we assume the probable permanence of our own constitutions, and ascribe to this circumstance much of the force, which our example is to have, in accelerating the march of reform. We know it is a favorite idea with some, that these constitutions have not been put to the test. But why not? Several of them, in their great features, are near two centuries old. It is true, till 1775, we were under a colonial superintendence; but we do not think the Crown did any thing by way of promoting the permanence of our institutions. It neither kept the peace by an armed force, nor supplied, by a pater- nal administration, any supposed deficiency in the colonial institutions of government. On the contrary, we were traversed and embarrassed, at every step, by ungracious and unfriendly foreign interference. Sinze the revolution, we have certainly passed through a series of political changes, of a nature adapted to put the stability of our institutions to the severest test. It is sometimes said, that the abundance of vacant land o rates as the safety valve of our system. Be it so; and we may promise our- selves, for centuries, all the security derived from this source. Rapidly as our population increases, it must be centuries before North-America is full. But it must not be too hastily inferred, that the strength and efficiency of our forms of government, have been tried only, over a very thin population. Massachusetts has a population of seventy-eight to a square mile. The average population of Europe is but sixty-six to the square mile. We know that our Massachusetts population is any thing but crowded; and the idea that a radically different fhrm of govern.. ment would be required, if our population should be, like that of Eng- land, thrice as dense as it is now, will seem to us, on this side of the water, the merest chimera. On the whole, we believe that the first leaves only of the book of revolutions,we had almost said revelations,are opened for Europe. God grant, as its successive seals are broken, that dispensations, not of confusion and bloodshed, but of peace and improvement, may diffuse their blessings over its inhabitants. SONNET. ON SEEiNG A FLOWER GATHERED FROM JULIETS TOMB. LADY! sweet victim of imperial Love! Who welcomed Death to share a husbands grave, Thy piteous fate can never vainly crave, From human hearts, a sigh! Heavens airs above Waft sympathetic tears, and sadly move, In requiem, the flowers that oer thee wave! Here bend in grief, alike, the gay, the grave. Here melts the iron heart. The widowed dove, Quits her warm nest and here doth learn to weave More melancholy strains. The paths are beat Around with pilgrims feet, and here at eve, The Mecca of the heart! will lovers meet, To hang their offerings of flowers, and grieve The love of her who sleeps beneath their feet. A. 72 TO MARY. I wxsu I had a casket, Love, of jewels rich and rare ; I d twine a wreath of diamonds mid the clusters of thy hair; And, where thy soft and swan-like neck is kissed by floating curls, I d tie, to foil its purity, a string of orient pearls. The sapphire and the emerald, where rainbow beauty lingers, I d set in hoops of beamy gold to deck thy fairy fingers; And on thy smoothly-chiseled arm, just oer the snowy wrist, Should glitter, from its woven band, the rosy amethyst- But Id choose, of all my jewels, Love, the richest and the best, To gleam, in solitary pride, upon thy virgin breast; An~ then, around thy slender waist, I d clasp the sparkling sheen Of gems, which might have glittered on the cestus of Loves queen. Yet, Mary, would thy clear blue e~re, amid this wealth of light, Appear less mildly beautiful, or shine less purely bright? Oh no the ocean cavern, and the undiscovered mine, Contain no gem, whose starry glance is lovelier than thine! P. A BRIEF FAREWELL. PAsv Year, farewell! Beneath the solemn pall, That hides forgotten ages, thou art sleeping. I see Times lengthening shadows darkly faif Around thy grave,and, like a mourner, keeping His vigil in some solitary hall, Through which the dirge-like wind of night is sweeping, Lonely and desolate, 1 stand and gaze On the dimmed glory of departed days. Go to thy rest upon the eternal plain; For countless multitudes will shortly pass, Subjects, like thee, of Deaths continual reign, There to commingle with the mighty mass Of centuries, that ofttimes in a train, Like sceptered kings, oer memorys magic glass, Before my vision glide. Once more farewell to thee; For lo, the future brightly dawns on me! B.

P. P. To Mary Original Papers 72

72 TO MARY. I wxsu I had a casket, Love, of jewels rich and rare ; I d twine a wreath of diamonds mid the clusters of thy hair; And, where thy soft and swan-like neck is kissed by floating curls, I d tie, to foil its purity, a string of orient pearls. The sapphire and the emerald, where rainbow beauty lingers, I d set in hoops of beamy gold to deck thy fairy fingers; And on thy smoothly-chiseled arm, just oer the snowy wrist, Should glitter, from its woven band, the rosy amethyst- But Id choose, of all my jewels, Love, the richest and the best, To gleam, in solitary pride, upon thy virgin breast; An~ then, around thy slender waist, I d clasp the sparkling sheen Of gems, which might have glittered on the cestus of Loves queen. Yet, Mary, would thy clear blue e~re, amid this wealth of light, Appear less mildly beautiful, or shine less purely bright? Oh no the ocean cavern, and the undiscovered mine, Contain no gem, whose starry glance is lovelier than thine! P. A BRIEF FAREWELL. PAsv Year, farewell! Beneath the solemn pall, That hides forgotten ages, thou art sleeping. I see Times lengthening shadows darkly faif Around thy grave,and, like a mourner, keeping His vigil in some solitary hall, Through which the dirge-like wind of night is sweeping, Lonely and desolate, 1 stand and gaze On the dimmed glory of departed days. Go to thy rest upon the eternal plain; For countless multitudes will shortly pass, Subjects, like thee, of Deaths continual reign, There to commingle with the mighty mass Of centuries, that ofttimes in a train, Like sceptered kings, oer memorys magic glass, Before my vision glide. Once more farewell to thee; For lo, the future brightly dawns on me! B.

B. B. A Brief Farewell Original Papers 72-73

72 TO MARY. I wxsu I had a casket, Love, of jewels rich and rare ; I d twine a wreath of diamonds mid the clusters of thy hair; And, where thy soft and swan-like neck is kissed by floating curls, I d tie, to foil its purity, a string of orient pearls. The sapphire and the emerald, where rainbow beauty lingers, I d set in hoops of beamy gold to deck thy fairy fingers; And on thy smoothly-chiseled arm, just oer the snowy wrist, Should glitter, from its woven band, the rosy amethyst- But Id choose, of all my jewels, Love, the richest and the best, To gleam, in solitary pride, upon thy virgin breast; An~ then, around thy slender waist, I d clasp the sparkling sheen Of gems, which might have glittered on the cestus of Loves queen. Yet, Mary, would thy clear blue e~re, amid this wealth of light, Appear less mildly beautiful, or shine less purely bright? Oh no the ocean cavern, and the undiscovered mine, Contain no gem, whose starry glance is lovelier than thine! P. A BRIEF FAREWELL. PAsv Year, farewell! Beneath the solemn pall, That hides forgotten ages, thou art sleeping. I see Times lengthening shadows darkly faif Around thy grave,and, like a mourner, keeping His vigil in some solitary hall, Through which the dirge-like wind of night is sweeping, Lonely and desolate, 1 stand and gaze On the dimmed glory of departed days. Go to thy rest upon the eternal plain; For countless multitudes will shortly pass, Subjects, like thee, of Deaths continual reign, There to commingle with the mighty mass Of centuries, that ofttimes in a train, Like sceptered kings, oer memorys magic glass, Before my vision glide. Once more farewell to thee; For lo, the future brightly dawns on me! B. MONTHLY RECORD. JANUARY, 1832. POLITICS AND STATISTICS. UNITED STATES. Congress. The twenty-second Con- gress assembled at the Capitol in Wash- ington on the 5th of December, and is composed of the following members. Senate. Maine, John Holmes, Peleg Sprague; New-Hampshire, Samuel Bell, Isaac. Hill;Ver- mont, Horatio Seymour, Samuel Prentiss; Mas- sachusetts, Daniel Webster, Nathaniel Silsbee; Rhode-Island, Ashur Robbins, Nehemtah R Knight; Connecticut, Samuel A. Foote Gideon Tomlinson; New-York, Charles E. Dudley, William L. Marcy; Pennsylvania, George Th Dallas, William Wilkins; New-Jersey, Mali- lon Dickerson, Theodore Frelinghuyeen; Dela- ware, Arnold Naudain, John M. Clayton; Ma- ryland, Samuel Smith, Ezekiel F. Chambers; Virginia, John Tyler, Littleton W. Tazewell; North-Carolina, Bedfisrd Brown Willie P. Man- gum; South-Carolina, Robert Y. Hayne, Ste- phen D. Miller; Georgia, George M. Troup, John Forsyth; Kentucky, George M. Bibb, Henry Clay; Tennessee, Felix Grundy, Hugh L. White; Ohio, Benjamin Ruggles, Thomas Erving; Indiana, Robert Hanna, William Hen- dricks; Illinois, Elias K. Kane, John M. Rob- inson; Louisiana, Josiah S. Johnston, George A. Waggaman; Alabama, William K. King, Gabriel Moore; Mississippi, Powl~tan Ellis, George Poindexter; Missouri, Thomas H. Ben- ton, Alexander Buckner. House ef Representatives. Maine, John An- derson, James Bates, George Evans, Cornelius Holland, Leonard Jarvis, Edward Kavanagh, Rufus McIntyre; New-Hampshire, John Brod- head, Thomas Chandler, Joseph Hammons, Henry Hubbard, Joseph M. Harper, John W. Weeks; Massachusetts, John Quincy Adams, Nathan Appleton, Isaac C. Bates, George N. Briggs, Rufus Choate, Henry A. S. Dearborn, John Davis, Edward Everett, George Grennell, Jr., Joseph G. Kendall, John Reed, (two vacan- cies;) Rhode-Island, Tristam Burges, Dutee J. Pearce; Connecticut, Noyes Barber, Will- iam W. Ellsworth, Jabez W. Huntington, Ralph I. Ingersoll, Wiliam L. Storra,, Ebene- zer Young; Vermont, William Cahoon, Ho- race Everett, Jonathan Hunt, William Slade, (one vacancy;) New-York, William A. Angel, Gideon B. Barstow, Joseph Bouck, William Babcock, John T. Bergen, John C. Broadhead, Samuel Beardaley, John A. Collier, Bates Cook, C. C. Cambreleng, John Dickson, Charles Day- an, Ulysses F. Doubleday, William Hogan, Mi- chael Hoffman, Freeborn G. Jewett, John King, Garret V. Lansing, James Lent, Job Pier- son, Nathaniel Pitcher, Edmund H. Pendleton, Edward C. Reed, Erastus Root, Nathan Soule, John W. Taylor, Phineas L. Tracy, Gulian C. VOL. II. 10 Verplareck, Frederick Whittlesey, Sansisel 3. Wilkin, Grattan H. Wheeler, Campbell P. White, Aaron Ward, Daniel Wardwell; New- Jersey, Lewis Condict, Silas Condit, Richard M. Cooper, Thomas H. Hughes, James F. Ran- dolph, Isaac Southard; Pennsylvania, Robert Allison, John Banks, George Burd, John C. Bucher, Thomas H. Crawford, Richard Coul- tar, Harmar Denny, Lewis Dewart, Joshua Ev- ans, James Ford, John Gilmore, William Heis- ter, Henry Horn, Peter Ibrie, Jr., Adam King, Henry King, Joel K. Mann, Robert McCoy, Henry A. Muhlenburg, T. M. McKennan, Da- vid Potts, Jr., Andrew Stewart, Samuel A. Smith, Philander Stephens, Joel B. Sutherland, John G. Watmough; Delaware, John J. Milli- gan; Maryland, Benjamin C. Howard, Daniel Jenifer, John L. Kerr, George E. Mitchell, Ben- edict I. Senimes, John S. Spence, Francis Thomas, George C. Washington, J. T. H. Worthington; Virginia, Mark Alexander, Rob- ert Allen, William S. Archer, William Arm- strong, John S. Barbour, Thomas T. Bouldin, Nathaniel H. Claiborne, Robert Craig, Philip Doddridge, William F. Gordon, Peter Johnson, John V. Mason, Lewis Maxwell, Charles F. Mercer, William McCoy, Thomas Newton, Jo- seph W. Chinn, Richard Coke, Jr., Thomas Davenport, John M. Patton, John J. Roane, Andrew Stevenson ; North-Carolina, Daniel L. Barringer, Lauchlin Bethune, John Branch, Samuel P. Carson, Henry W. Connor,Thomas H. Hall, James J. McKay, Abraham Rencher, Will- iam B. Shepard, Augustin H. Shepperd, Jesse Speight, Lewis Williams, (one vacancy ;) Sauth-Carolina, Robert W. Barnwell, James Blair, Warren H. Davis, William Drayton, John M. Felder, J. K. Griffin, Thomas K. Mitchell, George McDuffie, William T. Nuckols; Geor- gia, Thomas F. Foster, Henry G. Lamar, Dan- iel Newman, Wiley Thompson, Richard H. Wilde, James M. Wayne, (one vacancy;) Ken- tucky, John Adair, Chilton Allan, Henry Dan- iel, Nathan Gaither, Albert G. Hawes, Richard M. Johnson, Joseph Lecompte, Chittenden Ly- on, Robert P. Letcher, ThomasA. Marshall, Christopher Tompkins, Charles A. Wickliffe; Tennessee, Thomas D. Arnold, John Bell, John Blair, William Fitzgerald, William Hall Jacob C. Isaacs, Cave Johnson, James K. Polk, James Standifer; Ohio, Joseph H. Crane, Elutheros Cooke, William Creighton, Jr., Thomas Cur- win, James Findlay, William W. Irvin, Will- iam Kennon, Humphrey H. Leavitt, William Russel, William Stanberry, John Thomson Jo seph Vance, Samuel F. Vinton, Elisha V~hit- Ilesey; Louisiana, H. A. Bollard, Philemon Thomas, Edward B. White; Indiana, Ratliff Boon, John Carr, Jonathan McCarty; Missis- sippi, Franklin E. Plummer Illinois, Joseph Duncan; Alabama, Clement 6. Clay, Dixon H.

Politics and Statistics Monthly Record 73-83

MONTHLY RECORD. JANUARY, 1832. POLITICS AND STATISTICS. UNITED STATES. Congress. The twenty-second Con- gress assembled at the Capitol in Wash- ington on the 5th of December, and is composed of the following members. Senate. Maine, John Holmes, Peleg Sprague; New-Hampshire, Samuel Bell, Isaac. Hill;Ver- mont, Horatio Seymour, Samuel Prentiss; Mas- sachusetts, Daniel Webster, Nathaniel Silsbee; Rhode-Island, Ashur Robbins, Nehemtah R Knight; Connecticut, Samuel A. Foote Gideon Tomlinson; New-York, Charles E. Dudley, William L. Marcy; Pennsylvania, George Th Dallas, William Wilkins; New-Jersey, Mali- lon Dickerson, Theodore Frelinghuyeen; Dela- ware, Arnold Naudain, John M. Clayton; Ma- ryland, Samuel Smith, Ezekiel F. Chambers; Virginia, John Tyler, Littleton W. Tazewell; North-Carolina, Bedfisrd Brown Willie P. Man- gum; South-Carolina, Robert Y. Hayne, Ste- phen D. Miller; Georgia, George M. Troup, John Forsyth; Kentucky, George M. Bibb, Henry Clay; Tennessee, Felix Grundy, Hugh L. White; Ohio, Benjamin Ruggles, Thomas Erving; Indiana, Robert Hanna, William Hen- dricks; Illinois, Elias K. Kane, John M. Rob- inson; Louisiana, Josiah S. Johnston, George A. Waggaman; Alabama, William K. King, Gabriel Moore; Mississippi, Powl~tan Ellis, George Poindexter; Missouri, Thomas H. Ben- ton, Alexander Buckner. House ef Representatives. Maine, John An- derson, James Bates, George Evans, Cornelius Holland, Leonard Jarvis, Edward Kavanagh, Rufus McIntyre; New-Hampshire, John Brod- head, Thomas Chandler, Joseph Hammons, Henry Hubbard, Joseph M. Harper, John W. Weeks; Massachusetts, John Quincy Adams, Nathan Appleton, Isaac C. Bates, George N. Briggs, Rufus Choate, Henry A. S. Dearborn, John Davis, Edward Everett, George Grennell, Jr., Joseph G. Kendall, John Reed, (two vacan- cies;) Rhode-Island, Tristam Burges, Dutee J. Pearce; Connecticut, Noyes Barber, Will- iam W. Ellsworth, Jabez W. Huntington, Ralph I. Ingersoll, Wiliam L. Storra,, Ebene- zer Young; Vermont, William Cahoon, Ho- race Everett, Jonathan Hunt, William Slade, (one vacancy;) New-York, William A. Angel, Gideon B. Barstow, Joseph Bouck, William Babcock, John T. Bergen, John C. Broadhead, Samuel Beardaley, John A. Collier, Bates Cook, C. C. Cambreleng, John Dickson, Charles Day- an, Ulysses F. Doubleday, William Hogan, Mi- chael Hoffman, Freeborn G. Jewett, John King, Garret V. Lansing, James Lent, Job Pier- son, Nathaniel Pitcher, Edmund H. Pendleton, Edward C. Reed, Erastus Root, Nathan Soule, John W. Taylor, Phineas L. Tracy, Gulian C. VOL. II. 10 Verplareck, Frederick Whittlesey, Sansisel 3. Wilkin, Grattan H. Wheeler, Campbell P. White, Aaron Ward, Daniel Wardwell; New- Jersey, Lewis Condict, Silas Condit, Richard M. Cooper, Thomas H. Hughes, James F. Ran- dolph, Isaac Southard; Pennsylvania, Robert Allison, John Banks, George Burd, John C. Bucher, Thomas H. Crawford, Richard Coul- tar, Harmar Denny, Lewis Dewart, Joshua Ev- ans, James Ford, John Gilmore, William Heis- ter, Henry Horn, Peter Ibrie, Jr., Adam King, Henry King, Joel K. Mann, Robert McCoy, Henry A. Muhlenburg, T. M. McKennan, Da- vid Potts, Jr., Andrew Stewart, Samuel A. Smith, Philander Stephens, Joel B. Sutherland, John G. Watmough; Delaware, John J. Milli- gan; Maryland, Benjamin C. Howard, Daniel Jenifer, John L. Kerr, George E. Mitchell, Ben- edict I. Senimes, John S. Spence, Francis Thomas, George C. Washington, J. T. H. Worthington; Virginia, Mark Alexander, Rob- ert Allen, William S. Archer, William Arm- strong, John S. Barbour, Thomas T. Bouldin, Nathaniel H. Claiborne, Robert Craig, Philip Doddridge, William F. Gordon, Peter Johnson, John V. Mason, Lewis Maxwell, Charles F. Mercer, William McCoy, Thomas Newton, Jo- seph W. Chinn, Richard Coke, Jr., Thomas Davenport, John M. Patton, John J. Roane, Andrew Stevenson ; North-Carolina, Daniel L. Barringer, Lauchlin Bethune, John Branch, Samuel P. Carson, Henry W. Connor,Thomas H. Hall, James J. McKay, Abraham Rencher, Will- iam B. Shepard, Augustin H. Shepperd, Jesse Speight, Lewis Williams, (one vacancy ;) Sauth-Carolina, Robert W. Barnwell, James Blair, Warren H. Davis, William Drayton, John M. Felder, J. K. Griffin, Thomas K. Mitchell, George McDuffie, William T. Nuckols; Geor- gia, Thomas F. Foster, Henry G. Lamar, Dan- iel Newman, Wiley Thompson, Richard H. Wilde, James M. Wayne, (one vacancy;) Ken- tucky, John Adair, Chilton Allan, Henry Dan- iel, Nathan Gaither, Albert G. Hawes, Richard M. Johnson, Joseph Lecompte, Chittenden Ly- on, Robert P. Letcher, ThomasA. Marshall, Christopher Tompkins, Charles A. Wickliffe; Tennessee, Thomas D. Arnold, John Bell, John Blair, William Fitzgerald, William Hall Jacob C. Isaacs, Cave Johnson, James K. Polk, James Standifer; Ohio, Joseph H. Crane, Elutheros Cooke, William Creighton, Jr., Thomas Cur- win, James Findlay, William W. Irvin, Will- iam Kennon, Humphrey H. Leavitt, William Russel, William Stanberry, John Thomson Jo seph Vance, Samuel F. Vinton, Elisha V~hit- Ilesey; Louisiana, H. A. Bollard, Philemon Thomas, Edward B. White; Indiana, Ratliff Boon, John Carr, Jonathan McCarty; Missis- sippi, Franklin E. Plummer Illinois, Joseph Duncan; Alabama, Clement 6. Clay, Dixon H. 74 Politics and Statistics. Lewis, Samuel W. Mardix; Missouri, William H. Ashley. Delegates. Michigan, Austin E. Wing; Ar- kansas, Ambrose H. Sevier; Florida, Joseph M. White. Mathew St. Clair Clark was re-ap- pointed Clerk of the House of Repre- sentatives by resolution. Upon balloting for a Speaker, 195 votes were taken, 9t~ of which were necessary for a choice. Andrew Stevenson, of Virginia had 98, Joel B. Sutherland, of Pennsylvania, 54, John W. Taylor, of New-York, 18, Charles A. Wickliffe, of Kentucky, 15, Lewis Condict, of New-Jersey, 4, scat- tering 6. Mr. Stevenson was according- ly elected Speaker. Executiz~e Messa~, e. On the ensuing day, the President transmitted his Mes- sage to Congress. it is neither so long nor so elaborate as the Messages of late years, but it treats of the usual topics, and is, perhaps, as little liable to ex- ception from political criticism, as any of the documents emanating from the same source. The President states that arrange- ments have been made with Great- Britain, relative to our claims upon that government, which have been produc- tive of mutual good feelings. One of these, which he mentions, is the Treaty regulating the intercourse with the Col- onies. This trade employed, up to the 30th of September, upwards of 30,000 tons of American, and 13,000 tons of foreign shipping in the outward voyag- es, and nearly an equal amount of A- merican, and about 20,000 tons of for- eign shipping in the return voyages. Advantages, however, have resulted to our agri culture, which may prove more than equivalent to the injuries sustained by our commerce, on account of this treaty. Respecting the claims of our citizens upon France, which have lately been settled by Treaty, the Pre- sident says: The French government engage to pay a sum which, if not quite equal to that which may be found due to our citizens, will yet, it is believed, under all circumstances, be deemed satisfactory by those interested. The offer of a gross sum, instead of the satisfaction of each individual claim, was accepted, because the only alternatives were a rigorous exaction of the whole amount stated to be due on each claim, which might, in some instances be ex- aggerated by design, in others overrated through error, and which therefore it would have been both ungracious and uojust to have insisted on, or a settlement by a mixed commission, to which the French negociators were very a- verse, and which experience in other cases had shown to be dilatory, and often wholly inade- quate to the end. A comparatively small sum is stipulated on our part to go to the extinction of all claims by French citizens on our Govern- ment; and a reduction of duties on our cot- ton and their ivine has heen agreed on, as a consideration for the renunciation of an impor taut claim for commercial privileges under the construction they gave to the Ireaty for the cession of Louisiana. A special messenger has been sent to the Spanish government with instruc- tions to press the settlement of our de- mands, notwithstanding the unfriendly tone of that court. A special minis- ter, Mr. Nelson, of Maryland, has also been sent to Naples and the Sicilies, for the purpose of urging our claims for indemnity upon those governments. We have, also, unsettled demands upon the Government of Portugal, for spolia- tions committed during the late block- ade of Terceira. The friendly disposi- tion of that power, supposed to be man- ifested by the reduction of the duty on our Rice, induces the belief that they will be attended to at an early day. The Treaty with the Porte, which was ratified by the Senate during the last session, has been accepted by the Sul- tan. In regard to our commercial opera- tions with other parts of the world, the Message states that an armed vessel has been sent to require satisfaction for the plunder of one of our vessels at Suma- tra; our treaty with Mexico has not been ratified by that government, ow- ing to the unsettled state of the coun- try; indemnity has been stipulated by the Colombian Government, for illegal seizures of American property, and the duties on our Flour have been reduced; we have an unsettled claim upon the Brazilian Regency, for the destruction of property during the excesses con- sequent upon the abdication of the Em- peror; and our trade with the Falkland Islands has been interrupted by a party acting, as they asserted, under the au- thority of the Government of Buenos Ayres. Having given a satisfactory ex- position of our foreign relations, the President recommends a revisal of our consular laws, as necessary to their better operation. It is stated that, since the last annual message, Treaties have been made which extinguish the Indian titles in Ohio. It is confidently expected, also, that one half, or two thirds of the Cher- okees will emigrate. Those who pre- fer remaining, says the Message, will hereafter be governed by the laws of Georgia, as a 1 her citizens are, and cease to be the objects of peculiar care, on the part of the General Govern- ment. It is confidently believed, that the present policy of the Gov- ernment will soon extinguish all In- dian claims within the United States. With regard to the Finances, the Message says Politics and Statistics. The revenue received in the present year will not fall short of twenty-seven millions, sev- en hundred thousand dollars; and the expend- iture for all objects, other than the public debt will not exceed fourteen millions seven hundred thousand. The payment on account of the principal and interest of the debt, during the year, will exceed thirteen millions and a half of dollars; a greater sum than has been ap- plied to that. object, out of the revenue, in any year since the enlargement of the sinking fund, except the two years following immediately thereafter. The amount which will have been applied to the public debt from the 4th of March, 1829, to the 1st of January next, which is less than three years since the administration has been placed in my hands, will exceed forty millions of dollars. From the large importations of the present year, it may be safely estimated that the rev- enue which will be received into the treasury from that source during the next year, with the aid of that received from the public lands, will considerably exceed the amount of the receipts of the present year; and it is believed that with the means which the Government will have at its disposal, from various sources, which will be fully stated by the proper De- partment, the whole of the public debt may be extin4uished, either by redemption or pur- chase, within the four years of my administra- tion. We shall then exhibit the rare example of a great nation, abounding in all the means of happiness and security, altogether free from debt. In consequence of this prosperous condition of the Finances, the Message recommends a modification of the Tariff, which shall produce a reduction of our revenue to the wants of the Gov- ernment, and an adjustment of the du. ties on imports with a view to equal justice in relation to all our national interests, and to the counteraction of foreign policy, so far as it may be inju- rious to those interests. The Message calls the attention of Congress again to the Government debtors, and to certain defects in the law of the last session in relation to them; and recommends a modification of all laws for enforcing the payment of debts due to the United States, or indi- viduals suing in the United States Courts, in such a manner as to restrict the imprisonment of persons to cases of fraud. An amendment to the Constitution giving the election of President and Vice.P resident entirely to the people, and limiting the service of the former to a single term, is recommended again, by a refitrence to former messages, and it is again intimated that members of Congress ought to be disqualified from receiving an office at the hands of the President. An extension of the Judi- ciary system is again proposed, in order to give the Western States the benefits of a Circuit Court; but the subject of the United States Bank is left to the discussions of the people. Financial. By the annual Report of the Secretary of the Treasury, commu- nicated to Congress with the Message of the President, it appears that There was a balance in the Trea- sury on the first of January last of $6,014,539 75 The receipts for the present year, including indemnity under the Danish Convention, $23,000,412 87 Making the total for the year, in- cluding balance on hand Jan. 1, 1831, $34,014,952 62 The expenditures for the year, in- cluding $16,189,289 67, on ac- count of the public debt, are es timated at $30,967,291 25 Leaving on hand Jan. 1, 1832, in- cluding $439,475 13, on account of the Danish Treaty, and $1,400,000 heretofore reported as ineffective, a balance of $3,047,751 37 The whole amount of the public debt on the 2d of Jan. 1832, will be $24,322,235 18 The receipts into the Treasury for the year 1832, may be estimated at $30,100,000 00 The expenditures forthe nextyear, not including the public debt, are estimated at $13,365,202 16 Which being deducted from the estimated receipts, will leave a balance in the treasury of $16,734,797 84 A letter from the Secretary of the Treasury contains the following esti- mates of the appropriations necessary for the service of the year 1832, amount- ing to $11,551,154 38, vix: Civil list, foreign intercourse, and miscellaneous, $2,407,085 65 Military service, including fortifi- cations, armories, ordnance, In- dian affairs, revolutionary and military pensions, and internal improvement, 5,736,470 02 Naval service, includingthe marine corps, 3,407,618 71 Post Office. The Report of the Post- master General exhibits a favorable state of affairs. The receipts for the year ending on the first of July last, were $1,997,811 54 The expenditures were, in compensation to Postmasters, $635,028 48 Transportation of mail ,1,252,226 44 Incidental expences 48,304 44 Total, $1,935,559 36 Excess of revenue, $62,252 18 The surplus revenue on the first of July last, including the balance of the preceding year, was $210,412 89. The increase of postages, over the last year, amounted to $147,225 44. During this year also, the new contracts make an annual increase of the transportation of the mail of 968,709 mites. The whole an- nual transportation is now equal to 15,468,602 miles. National Rqnsblican f2ono,ceetion. On Monday, Dec. 12, the delegates elected from several states to nominate can- 75 Politics and Statistics. didates for the offices of President and Vice-President, in opposition to the present incumbents, assembled in Balti- more. The following members were present and answered to their names, VIZ. Maine, Nathan Cummisis, George Evans, John Holmes, Charles Mussev, Henry War- ren; New-Hampshire, Charles Barrett, Leonard Jarvis, William A. Kent, John B. H. Odiorne, James Wilson, Jr.; Vermont, Dan Carpenter, William A. Griswold, Thomas D. Hammond, William Jarvis, Robert Temple, Phineas White; Rhode-Island, Joseph L. Tillioghast, John B. Francis, Nathan F. Dixon, Christopher E. Rob- bins; Massachusetts, Gideon Barstow, Ira Bar- ton, Henry A. S. Dearborn, Alexander H. Ev- erett, Russell Freeman, John Lowell, Jr. Eben- ezer Moseley, Gershom B. Weston, Samuel Snelling; Connecticut, Daniel B. Brinsmade, Dennis Kimberly, John McLellan, John A. Rockwell, Joseph Trumbull; New-York, Lu- ther Bradish, Joseph Blunt, John G. Camp, Henry B. Cowles, Hiram Ketchmmmn, Peter R. Livingston, Charles Ludlow, Abraham R. Law rence, Hugh Maxwell, Frederick Mason, Peter B. Porter, William L. Stone, T. Barton Stout, Richard R. Warml, Henry G. Wimeatoms; New Jersey, Amass JiAsid, Samuel S. Duty, Job S. Halstead, William Halstsad, Benjamin P. Lip- pincott, Henry D. Polhemmms, Peter M. Ryerson, James F. Randolph; Pennsylvania, Samuel Alexander, John B. Butler, Robert Burke, Thomas Buroside, Thomas B. Colmams, Joseph G. Clarkson, James Calhoun, William F. Dil- liogham. William Darling, Nathaniel Ewing, Washington Hopkins, Thomas M. Jolly, Abner Lacock, Sharp D. Lewis, William Lyon, Peter S. Michler, Calvin Mason, Thomas McGiffin, A. McGaw, Josiah Randall, John Sergeant, Richard Penn Smith, Anthony Taylor; Dela- ware, E. J. Dupont, Kensey Johns, Jr. R. Mans- field, William W. Morris, Win. B. Waples Maryland, Solomon Dickinson, Joseph Kent, J. B. Morris, William Price, Joseph J. Merrick, I. Sewell, H. V. Somerville, James Thomas, J. Tilghman, William Willis; Virginia, Richard Adams, Robert Anderson, James Barbour, Richard W. Barton, David Briggs, James Brack- enridge, Robert B. Corbin, William B. Cald- well, John B. Clopton, Sai~muel H.. Davis, Henry Fairfax, Charles Hill, Joshua H. Ilarrell, John Marshall, Jr., Philip C. Pendleton Cnthbert Powell, Thomas P. Ray, Robert Stanard, John Taliaferro, Thomas Turner, Henry S. Tumer, Edward T. Taylne, William Woods; North- Carolina, Richard H. Alexander, Frederick H. Shuman; Louisiana, Henry A. Bollard, Josiah S. Johnston; Indiana, John J. Neely, Isaac Howk; Kentucky, Daniel Breck, Charles Ba- ford, Leslie Combs, James W. Denny, Thomp- son H. Ewing, James Harlan, James Ilmighe John Jennings, Francis Johnson, Martin P. Marshall, James T. Morehead, William T. Willis, George XV. Williams, Lee White; Ohio, Philemon Beecher, Henry Bacon, James H. Bell, Bezekiah Bissell, Thomas Flanan, Ed- ward Hamilton, Joseph H. Ijauss, John H. James, Lecester King, George Rennick, Allan Trimble, George Reeves, Jr. John Sloane, James Williams; District of Columbia, Richard S. Coxe, William L. Ilodgson, Walter Jones, William S. Nichols, Edgar Snowden. On Tuesday, the convention was or- ~anized by the appointment of JAnas B ARBOUR, of Virginia, President; Messrs. Trimble of Ohio, Kent, of Ma- ryland, Porter, of New-York, and Temple, of Vermont, Vice-Presidents; Messrs. Tillinghast, of Rhode-Island, and Bacon, of Ohio, Secretaries. It having been resolved that the conven- tion should immediately proceed to nominate a candidate for the office of President, in opposition to Gen. Jack- son, Mr. Livingston, of New-York, rose and nominated HENRY CLAY. On motion of Mr. Dearborn, of Mas- sachusetts, it was resolved unanimously, that the votes should be taken by call- ince the roll, each person naming his candidatethe names to be called by states. On the vote being thus taken, it appeared that Mr. Clay had the unan- irnous support of the convention, 155 members being present. A committee of seven, viz. Messrs. Everett, of Mas- sachusetts, Stanard, of Virginia, Dodd, of New-Jersey,Howk, of Indiana, Johns, of Delaware, Cummins, of Maine, Wil- son, of New-Hampshire, were appotuted to prepare an address to the people, setting forth the objects of the conven- tion. A committee of one from each state represented, was appointed to com- mnunicate the nomination to Mr. Clay. On Wednesday, Mr. Clays accept- ance of the nomination was reported to the convention. It was then voted to proceed to the nomination of a candi- date for the office of Vice-President, and JOHN SERGEANT of Pennsyl- vania, was unanimously adopted. On Thursday, Mr. Sergeant accepted the nomination. It was then resolved, that a central state corresponding com- mittee be provisionally appointed in each state where none are now ap- pointed; and that it be recommended to the several states to organize subor- dinate corresponding committees in each county and town, in their several re- spective states. On Friday, an address to the people of the United States was read and ac- cepted, and the convention adjourned, sisee die. NEW-HAMPSHIRE. Dartmouth College. The Catalogue for the year commencmng Sept. 1, 1831, indicates a degree of prosperity entirely new to that institution. ft returns 33 Seniors, 38 Juniors, 48 Sophomores and 60 Freshmen. There are also 101 med- ical students. In point of facilities for learning, it is not just to Dartmouth College to put it in comparison with one or two others that have long had the advantage of immense wealth. Yet its means have been so well used, that in this particular it is certainly respect- able. Its three libraries contaims as 76 Politics and Statistics. 77 many as 16,000 volumes, of which three quaiters are well selected and available to the student. Its chemical laboratory, philosophical apparatus and mineralogi- cal cabinet are adequate to all their purposes. There are eight professor- ships, of which number that of divinity is now vacant. This year there are three tutors. The discipline has been greatly improved within two or three years. The faculty wish it to be un- derstood that the college is a desirable place not for the intractable and per- verse, but for the regular, the gentle- manly and good,for those whose ob- ject is intellectual and moral improve- ment. A statement of some of the expenses shows much in favor of the college in that respect. Among them are the following: Term bills, including tui tion, & c. $30 00 per an. Room rent (average; each student occupying a room) 15 00 Board, from $1 to $1 50 per week for 38 weeks 47 50 VERMONT. We copy from a paper of Vermont, the following statement of the number of sheep in that state. It exhibits a large amount of wealth in a species of property which requires but a small ex- penditure of money or labor for its in- crease: Bennington county - 52,416 Wiadham - - - 55,542 Rutland - - - 139,996 Windsor - - - 109,787 Addison - - - 112,784 Orange - - - - 78,155 Chittenden - - - 55,449 Washington - - - 40,856 Caledonia, - - - 43,748 Franklin - - - 41,638 Orleans - - - 23,797 Essex - - - - 6,976 Grand Isle - - - 8,656 Total - - - - 769,780 Treasury. By the report of the Au- ditor of the Treasury Department, there has been paid out of the Treasury of the state, for the year ending Sept. 30, 1831, $62,078 90; leaving a balance in the hands of the treasurer at the same date, of $14,193 15. The amount due for arrearages on taxes, Sept. 30, 1831, was 38,231 79. School Fund. The Auditor reports that the amount of the School Fund, on loan Sept. 30, 1831, was $36,267 40. The loans are mostly secured by mort- gages on real estate, of much greater value than the amount of the loan, or additional names of undoubted respon- sibility. Banks. It appears by the report of the agent appointed to examine the state of the several Banks in the state, dated Oct. 17, that the whole amount of the capital stock paid in, is $511,640. Deposites, $155,368 02. Bills in circu- lation, $1,335,342 70. Notes discount- ed, and due on book, $1,303,398 73. Specie and bills of other banks on hand, and deposites in other banks, ~ 762,472 06. Real estate held at cost, 27,754 73. State Prison. The committee ap- pointed to settle with the Superintend- ant of the State Prison, report, Oct. 17, 1831, that the value of the personal property belonging to the prison, manu- factured goods and stock, and debts doe, amount to $30,378 65: that the claims outstanding against the state, amount to $14,730 64, leaving a balance of $15,748 Olin favor of the state. 143,000 yards of cotton cloth were wove at the prison the past year, being 17,000 more than the product of the previous years labor. The Superintendant has com- menced the experiment of manufactur- ing shoes. He says, he has made a purchase of leather, and commenced with ten convicts in the mannfacture of mens coarse shoes, of fair quality, and from the price that article bears in the large markets, the prospect is good that a profitable business may be made of it, on a limited scale. $211 40 has been received from the committee of visiters the last year. The amount produced by the labor of the convicts has been sufficient to defray the general expense of the prison for the year, except the expenditures for the new buildings. Vermont Missionary Society. From the report of this Society, lately pub- lished, it appears that they have aided 34 churches in this state, during the past year. The labors of the Missiona- ries are spoken of as having been unu- sually useful. By the Treasurers Re- port, it appears that the balance in the Treasury at the commencement of the year and sums received from various sources since, amount to $1,706 98; and that the expenditures have amounted to $1123 51, leaving for the use of the current year $583 47. Hon. Samuel Swift is President, and Rev. Charles Walker, Secretary. Vermont Colonization Society. This Society held its annual meeting at Montpelier, on the 19th of October. The receipts into the Treasury the past year amount to $775. The following 78 gentlemen were elected officers for the year ensuing: Hon. E. Paine, Will- iamstown, P resi en ; Hon. Horatio Seymour, Middlebury, Hon. Samuel Prentiss, Montpelier, Vice-Presidents; Daniel Baldwin, Esq. Montpelier, Treas- urer; Hon. Joseph Howes, Montpelier, Auditor; Rev. Chester Wright, Mont- pelier, Secretary. MASSACHUSETTS. The outside of the Insane Hospital at Worcester, is now nearly completed. The building itself is magnificent, and the local situation beautiful. It is built of brickthe central part being four stories high, 76 feet long and 40 feet deep, projecting the width of one room forward of the wings, which are each 90 feet lonr three stories high, and 36 feet wide. The central part of the building has four large rooms in each story, with wide entryways between them. The front part is designed for the use of the superintendants. The wings have a wide entryway, or narrow hail, running the whole length of each, with small rooms, or cells, as they are called, for the maniacs, on each side, 10 feet by 8, with a cast iron window sash and a little plank seat fastened in the corner, to each. The whole building is 256 feet long, with a cellar under the whole, divided into many small apart- ments. it stands nearly parallel to the main street, about one hundred rods distantthe front commanding a full view of the whole village. Directly back of it is the south end of Millstone hill, steep, lofty, and partly covered with forest trees. Half a mile south is another large and beautiful hill, the northern declivity of which is laid out into regular and beautiful fields and pastures, enclosed with handsome stone walls. If beauty of scenery, abundance of pure air, and a splendid and conven- ient dwelling, will restore to reason the unfortunate maniacs who may be placed there, this hospital is well adapt- ed to the purpose. CONNECTICUT. The annual meeting of the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Connecticut, was holden on the evening of the 1st of December, at the Rhetorical Chamber in Yale College. The officers elected wereHon. Roger M. Sherman, Presi- dent; Prof. Jonathan Knight, Vice- President; Aaron N. Skinner, Cor. Secretary; Charles Hooker, M. D. Treasurer. Prof. Timothy P. Beers and Thomas Miner, M. D. were elected honorary members. Politics and Statistics. PENNSYLVANIA. In his annual Message to the Legis- lature, the Governor congratulates his fellow citizens on the prosperity of Pennsylvania and the Union, and on the decrease of crime, and especially of that great cause of it, intemperance. He recommends the total abolition of lotteries, as productive of the worst ef- fects. He thinks greater variety might be given to the agricultural products of Pennsylvania; wine and silk might, in the opinion of the most judicious thinkers, be added to these products. He urges the encouragement of agri- cultural societies, and the still more im- portant subject of a general system of education; commends the Tariff, and invites the attention of the Legislature to the consideration of imprisonment for debt. The Judiciary system of the state is inadequate to its needs. The Militia, he thinks, will never be the better for the present mode of drilling. The Finances present a receipt for the last eleven months, of $709,030, exclu- sive of loans; the disbursements to ~ 371,295. The Message enters into a etail of the various loans authorized for the public works, and into a history of the origin and progress of the sys- tem. The whole amount of money which has been paid to the Canal Com- missioners, up to the 23d of November, is $12,334,488 62, constituting a debt on the commonwealth which must be somewhat enlarged in order to complete the works in progress. The wetness of last year did much damage to the ca- nals, which have therefore been less productive, and have required extensive repairs. Pennsylvania has now public works of this and like nature to the amount of more than thirty-seven mill- ions of dollars, disbursed, either by the state or by corporations, since 1791. The part of it lying between Pittsburg and Lake Erie, and the northern dis- tricts also, require similar improvements properly to develop their resources. The Governor adverts to the advantage over the Erie canal, of one in the less rigorous climate of Pennsylvania, which would give open navigation from four to six weeks earlier in the spring, and from two to four weeks later in the fall. This sort of advantage seems to be ad- mitted on all hands to be of the greatest consequence. Among other subjects de- serving legislative attention, is men- tioned the incorporation long sought by the citizens of York, allowing them to construct a rail road to the Maryland line; which, now that there is no dan- ger, the Governor thnks, of compro Politics and Statistics. 79 mising the interests of Pennsylvania, has become a just claim. Philadelphia. The population in- cluded within the limits of the Bills of Mortality of the city, amounts, without distinction of color, to 167,811. The increase since the census of 1820 is 40.6 per cent. The whites alone amount to 153,169, of which number 73,547 are males, and 79,622 are females The fe- males exceed the males about 8 1-4 per cent. making about 92 males to 100 fe- males. Estimating all of and under the 5th year, males exceed the females about 5 per cent.; but when all between the 5th and 10th years are included, the sexes are nearly balanced, there being only about 1 per cent. in favor of the males. In th9 period included between the 10th and 15th years, the females ex- ceed the males about 8 per cent., and from this time to about the 50th year, the excess on the same side continues pretty steadily in the ratio of from 8 to 10 per cent. Afterwards, however, it increases greatly, so that between the 50th and 60th years, the females exceed the males 34 per cent.; 60th and 70th do. 59 do.; 70th and 80th do. 90 do.; 80th and 90th do. 79 do.; 90th and 100th do. 40 do. Of those that have at- tained and exceeded a century, 7 are females and 3 males. The blacks constitute about 8.7 per cent. of the population, their exact num- ber being 14,642, of which 6,307 are males, and 8,335 females. The increase since the census of 1820 is about 32 1-2 per cent. The disparity between the sexes is far greater than with the whites, there being 32 per cent. more females than males, or only 86 males to 100 fe- males. Under the 10th year, the fe- male excess is about 5 per cent. and between the ages of 10 and 24 amounts to 61 per cent.; between the 36th and 50th year it is only 16 per cent. and be- tween the 55th and 100th, 38 per cent. Of those that had attained 100 years and over, 14 were males and 12 females. The births are in the proportion of about 4 1-2 per cent. to the whole pop- ulation. The number of males born ex- ceeds that of females more than 7 per cent.; which excess, as already noticed, is lost by the 10th year. The number of births varies with the seasons. rue results of calculations in Philadelphia are compared with similar ones made in Europe, and found to correspond. The subject is new and interesting. On the 28th of November, a society was formed for establishing a Libra- ry of Foreign Literature and Science. The price of shares is fixed at thirty dollars each, subject to an annual con- tribution of three dollars. One article of the constitution provides that ro purchase of works in the English lan- euage, except such as are exclusively devoted to the consideration of the lite- rature and science of the people of other countries, in which that language is not spoken, shall be made out of the funds of the Association. The following gentle- men were elected officers. John Ser- geant, President; P. 5. Duponceau, C. J.Ingersoll,Vice-Presidents; William B. Reed, William H. Keating, Alfred L. Elwyn, M. D., Alex. Dallas Bache,, Thomas 1. Wharton, Daniel B. Smith, Henry J. Williams, R. La Roche, M. D. Charles Yarnall, D. F. Condie, M. D. Charles R. Demme, H. D. Gilpin, Di- rectors; Frederick Fraley, Secretary and Treasurer. MARYLAND. Baltimore and Ohio Rail Road. This great work is now completed as far as Frederick and was opened to that city on the 1st of December. Several cars, containing the officers of the corpora- tion and fh eir guests, left Baltimore in the morning for Frederick, where they were received by the citizens, amidst the ringing of bells, the firing of can- non, & c. An address was delivered by Richard Potts, Esq. and a reply made by the President of the Compa- ny. After dining, the guests returned to Baltimore. The editor of the Bos- ton Daily Advertiser makes the follow- in g statement. The simple fact that this ceremony was per- formed on a short winters day, by persons who left Baltimore in the morning, dined at Freder- ick, and returned to Baltimore in season to give a particular narrative of the proceedings on the following morning, is sufficient to give a forci- ble impression of the nature arid value of this improvement in the means of locomotion. A party of probably a hundred persons, among whom were the Governor of the State, the Members of the City Council, and the Directors of the Rail Road Company, left Baltimore at a quarter past seven, taking with them the Gov- ernors barouche and horses, arrived at Fred- erick before two, and after the ceremonies of the day, a portion of the party returned to the city, having traveled a distance of 120 miles in cars containing about 20 persons each, and each car drawn by a single horse. This waa no extraordinary performance, was only a repe- tition of what has been done daily on 40 miles of the road for some weeks past, and will here- after be done constantly between Baltimore and Frederick, and what is perhaps the most striking fact is that the charge for this rate of traveling is but three cents a mile, or $1 80 for a passage from Baltimore to Frederick, and that more than two-thirds of this charge is a clear profit to the Rail Road Company, after peying the expenses of horses, attendance, repairs, & c. We lately had an opportunity of witnessing the mode of traveling on this rail road. Horse power is used at present, though it is proposed Politics and Statistics. to substitute locomotive engines, as soon as a sufficient number, properly adapted, can be pro- cured. The horses used are mostly small and active, and they are uniformly in good condi- tion, and have the appearance of being subject- ed to very light duty. We were told that so easy is the service to which they are subjected, though in the passage cars they uniformly travel at the rate of ten miles an hour at least and of- ten faster, that they had improved in value on an average 30 per cent. since they were pur- chased by the company. The passenger cars are of various forms and sizes. Those of the most approved construc- tion are intended to accommodate twenty pas- sengers, inside, in two entirely distinct apart- ments, and they will easily accommodate from ten to fifteen on the outside. We ob- served two of these cars from the ridge, con- taining about 30 passengers each, coming from the west, several of whom were stated to be Members of Congress. These two cars reached Ellicotts Mills at 3 oclock, P. M. where the horses were changed. As they proceeded thence towards Baltimore, over a part of the road which is chiefly level, it was evident that the horses traveled with perfect ease, and in fact appeared to exert no effort upon the load, except by the bridle bits, as the drivers found it constantly necessary to check their speed. Af- ter traveling six and a half miles the horses were again changed. They usually perform two of these short trips daily. The exchange is made in an instant. The horse is attached to the car in such a manner that if he strays from the path, he cannot draw the car from the rails. The horses which convey heavy loads travel at aslower rate. In the ordinary work upon the road, in transporting stone and earth, a single horse usually draws three cars, with loads of three tons each. A load of 200 barrels of flour was lately brought down by a single horse, changing at the regular stations, and traveling at the rate of six miles an hour, and without injury to the horse. The regular freight for the transport of merchandise is four cents a mile per ton. Some material improvements have been made in the construction of cars, particu- larly in the axles and the boxes, by which the friction is diminished and the car is rendered much more durable. SOUTH-CAROLINA. The Press. In 1783, at the close of the war, there were only three news- papers printed in this state; there are now twenty-three, viz: in Charleston, the Mercury, the Courier and the Ga- zette, daily morning papers; the Pa- triot and the Post, daily evening papers; the Irishman, the Southern Chronicle, the Observer, (religious, Presbyterian) and the Miscellany, (religious, ( ath- olic.) In Columbia, the Telescope, the Times, and the Hive. In Camden, the Journal and the Beacon. In George- town, the Intelligencer and the Union. And in the places designated by their titles, the Beaufort Gazette, the Edge- field Carolinian, the Pendleton Messen- ger, the Greenville Mountaineer, the Yorkville Pioneer, the Cheraw Repub- lican and the Sumter Gazette. Besides these are published the Southern Re- view, quarterly; and the Southern Ag- riculturist, and the Gospel (Episcopal) Messenger, monthlies. GEORGIA. Education. The Overseers of the University of this state, met at Mil- ledgeville, on the 15th of November, to consider the state of the College, which appears to be in a flourishing condition. Mr. Price, from a committee previously appointed to consider the subject, made a report, recommending to the legisla- ture to provide, that indigent youths shall be nominated by any citizens to the Justices of the Peace; that each Justice shall nominate therefrom, two of the most eligible, to the Justices of the Inferior Court; and that t1eey~ shall send one of those so nominated to the College, for education; that the youths sent from each county, shall first be educated at the Grammar School in Athens, at the public expense, prepara- tory to their entering College ; that their clothing shall be provided at the public expense, as well as their board and that an appropriation be made, of $15,000, to carry said provisions into effect. This will educate seventy-eight youths, estimating their expense at $200 each. KENTUCKY. Finances. By a report of the Treas- urer of the state, made at the present session of the legislature, it appears that the total receijts for the year end- ing on the 10th of October, 1831, were $215,435 50. Among the items are Nett profits of the Bank of the Commonwealth, $43,941 65 Distribution of Stock from the Bank of Kentucky, in Coin- mon~vealths paper, 29,835 00 Distribution of Stock from the same for specie, 29,835 00 Sheriffs for revenue, 62,351 44 For lands and land warrants, 37,741 70 For taxes, 11,483 76 Other sources, 246 95 Total, $215,435 50 The expenditures during the same time amounted to $183,873 02. Among the items producing this a- mount are On Criminal Prosecutions, and for other legal charges includ- ingsalaries of attorneys, clerks, jailers, & c. Lunatics, and lunatic asylums, Institution for the deaf and dumb, Payments to judicial and execu- tive officers, Legislature, session of Decem- ber, 1830 Internal improvement, bridges and roads, For slaves executed, Other expenses, Total, The debt of the state is $34,243 17 18,696 65 3,]98 85 29,633 86 12,760 75 48,737 02 3,187 00 33,415 72 $183,873 02 $18,035 41 80 Politics and Statistics. OHIO. We learn from the Messagepf Gov- ernor McArthur to the Legislature, that the aggregate amount disburs- ed at the Treasury of this State for canals and other purposes, for the year ending 15th November, 1831, is $236,190 31, leaving a balance in the Treasury of $6,075 38 1-2that the a- mount of the foreign debt contracted on account of canals is $4,400,000, bear- ing an interest of $260,000 annually that in addition to the amount thus bor- rowed, $257,128 08 had been transfer- ed from the different school funds to the use of the canals, the interest on which last sum, payable to the citizens of Ohio, is $15,427 68, making the whole canal debt $4,657,128 8 cents, and that the entire annual interest is $275,427 68. The amount received into the Treasury from the sale of lands granted by Con- gress to the State of Ohio for canal pur- poses, during the year ending as above, was $55,090 79. The amount of tolls collected on the several canals, for the year ending on the 1st November last was as follows On the Miama $36,177 78 Ohio 63,934 27 Making in all $100,112 05 which, after deducting the expenses of collection, leaves $94,619 15, net profit to the state. The navigation of the Erie and Ohio Canal has been opened as far south as Chillicothe, a distance of 250 miles. This, with the Miami canal, and the navigable feeders connected with the main line make an amount of finished canal, now navigable, of about 344 miles. It is believed by the Acting Commissioners that that portion of the Ohio canal between Chillicothe and Portsmouth, a distance of 50 miles, to- gether with the Granville feeder, 6 miles, already in a very advanced state, will be completed in July next, when Ohio will have, of navigable canals, 400 miles. Scioto Valley. It is stated in the Chillicothe Gazette, that the value of the exports from the valley of the Sci- oto, for the present year, will amount to not less than two millions of dollars. In the year 1804, the first cattle were sent from Chillicothe to Baltimore, as an experiment. It is believed that dur- ing the present winter there will be fed in the valley, ten thousand head of cat- tle, which will be driven to eastern markets, and two thousand head for home consumption. There will also be raised for the Atlantic states, thirty-five VOL. H. 11 thousand head of stock cattle, and twen- ty-five thousand dollars worth of horses. Sixty thousand barrels of Pork, and twenty-five thousand head of hogs will also be sent over the Mountains. The export of cattle alone from this fer- tile valley, is estimated to be worth $1,537,500. ILLINOIS. A public meeting was held at Beards- ville, in this state, on the 8th of No- vember, the object of which will he gathered from the subjoined portion of an address which was adopted. The plan of building a Railway from Lake Erie to Quincy, on the Mississippi2 though of recent suggestion, cannot but excite our deepest interest; and it is to be hoped that all friends of Internal Improvements will contribute their ex- ertions in promoting and expediting so important an object. I5he route, as con- templated, is to commence at the west- ern extremity of Lake Erie, and pass- ing through the northern part of Ohio, Indiana, and the central part of Illinois, terminate, for the present, at Quincy, on the Mississippi. Between the western extremity of Lake Erie and Quincy, this track would he nearly on aright line, and running on the ridge of land which sepa- rates the head waters of the Ohio river, of the lakes, and of the Illinois river; it is obvious, that the ground is unusually level and free from the obstructions of water courses, and at the same time would afford easy communications from the main stem of the railway to the high- est navigable points on the streams and the towns which may be situated to the right or left of the road, either by rail- ways or otherwise. The distance of this route is about four hundred and twenty miles. It will afford a safe, easy, direct, and expeditious communication by Lake Erie, and the Erie canal with all the Eastern cities; and should it ever be deemed necessary, could easily be ex- tended along the southern shore of Lake Erie, in connection with the railways that are now in contemplation, thereby completing the great project which Clinton designed. It will readily oc- cur to the mind of every one, that by this route a greater saving in distance, time, and expense, is made than could possibly be done by any other which could be formed; enabling a person to travel from New-York or Philadelphia to the Misshssippi in about five days. It is intended to apply to the General Government for assistance, and it is stated, that the sale of public lands which would take place in the vicinity 81 82 Politics and Statistics. of the line, and which will otherwise remain unsold, would bring back to the Treasury all the money expended. MICHIGAN A memorial has been addressed to the President by the inhabitants of Michigan, soliciting a topographical survey of Lakes Erie, Huron, Michi- gan and Superior, comprising a sea- coast between Buffalo and Fond du Lac, of more than two thousand miles. To exhibit the present and increasing ne- cessity for sucb a survey, they submit- ed for consideration an estimate from an examination of all the data within their control. The number of vessels estimated to be engaged in the Coasting Trade on Lakes Michigan, Huron and Erie is 100 Average Tonnage 70 Amount entered and cleared at Detroit Custom House in 1830 4,500,000 Number of Entries and Clearances at same in 1830 926 Amount of Tonnage in District of Detroit 1100 Amount of Steam Boat Tonnage on upper Lakes 1692 Aggregate amount of Ton- nage 7000 Vesselsbuilding and under contract 200 tons 200 The rapid settlement and prosperity of this territory may be inferred from the following statements made in the Detroit Journal. The whole amount of money receiv- ed from the sale of Public Lands in this Territory, since the 1st of January 1831, is $367,087. The whole amount which will have been received at both offices up to the 31st of December, may be es- timated at $380,000. The accession which has been made to the population of the Territory, dur- ing the past season, is variously esti- mated. We have heard it rated as high as 20,000,but we should think that too much. A record was kept by a gentleman in Detroit, until the num ber reached nearly 10,000; and he is of the opinion that nearly as many more have arrived in the territory since then: It is not improbable that Michigan has received since the first of April last, an increase, from emigration, of at least, 15,000 souls. This number, added to the number as taken at the last census, and the increase last year, after the census was completed, makes the present pop- ulation of our territory about 47,000. Those parts of the territory which should be connected in their political relations, and which will soon become a state, contain a population of 44,000. TERRITORY OF HURON. The Lead Mines of the Upper Missis- sippi river, which have become so cele- brated within a few years past, are chief- ly situated within this territory. They have, throwrh inaccuracy, been called the mines ~ Illinois. They are now known as The Wisconsin Lead Mines. The returns made by the U- nited States Agent, for the year ending Sept. 30, 1820, show that there were only 1,626,486 lbs. of Lead made with- in the limits of the State during the preceding year; whilst in the Territory there were 6697,512 lbs. It will also appear, that during the year ending Sept. 30, 1831, there were only six Fur- naces in operation in the state of Illi- nois, which smelted 1,659,818 lbs. of lead; and in the the Wisconsin Dis- trict, there have been thirty-two fur- naces in operation, which have made 4,126,417 lbs. The total amount of lead made, therefore, in the state and terri- tory, in the past year, is 5,786,235 lbs. It is but just to state that one fourth of the mineral which is smelted at the furnaces in Illinois, is raised in the ter- ritory, all of them, except one, being erected very near the state line. The prospects of the mines have never been better than at present. The diggers are preparing to work throughout the winter; and great activity is manifest- ed by every class engaged in the busi- ness. 83 LITERARY The Bravo: a Tale. By the Au.. thor of the Spy, the Red Rover, & c. Supposing this work fairly entitled to notice as the production of an American pen, although the author pursues his profession on another continentfor which he, doubtless, has more substan- tial reasons than could be given for his return,we have perused it with much tttention. As it is the acknowledged offspring of one who, by general con- sent, stands first of all our American dealers in fiction, we would treat it with great respect. We shall confess, however, in the commencement, that we are pleased neither with its form nor its feat~ires, neither with the particular limbs, nor the compounded fabrication. As a picture of the social system of an ancient Republic, it is in many re- spects powerfully, and we doubt not, correctly drawn. As a romance, a dra- ma, a mere work of fiction, depending upon the imagination and ability of the author, it is an ablefailure. The ac- tion of the Bravo,and the same, it is believed, may be said of each of the authors works,is too like the per- formance of an excellent piece, one of Shakspeares or Massingers best, by one of our tragical companies of tra- gedians ; it has but one prominent character, who is the star of the even- ing, or the piece, and to whom the sub- ordinates are the foils, and not the as- sistants. They have neither presence, finish, nor character of themselves; they might say, with Nick Bottoms lion, If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life ; they come, rather, as the same worthys fin- gers did, to represent a wall, because a wall was necessary, and not because it was of any advantage to the dramatic effect of the piteous tragedy his friends enacted. So with this tale. The Bravo stands alone. He has no natural con- nection with the story to which he has given his name; and appears to be rather a stranger upon his own premises. He walks about, with a pale face, and an eye of wonderful powers, shunning every body, that he may give them an occasion to suspect him of nameless crimes, and makes a blood-thrilling and horrible confession ofnothing at all; for in the end he avows that he was an injured man, and that he had no crimes to confess. His whole story is told in few words. He is a secret agent of the Venetian police; hired by them, like NOTICES. Hamlets actors, to make his damna- ble faces on the Rialto, to draw the attention of the populace upon himself as a public bravo; exposing those who offer to employ him to his own em- ployers; and finally suffering death, through the policy of the State, for a murder committed by the State. This tissue of improbabilities, having an abundance of one prime ingredient of legitimate romance,fiction,ie made pala~b1e by the propriety of his motive, which is filial affection. He suffers for the sins of the whole re ublic, and re- ceives in payment the privilege cf vis- iting his father in prison. This is the whole story of The Bravo. The tale has one merit. We do not recognize in its few characters, the faces of our old friends, Leather-Stocking or Tom Cof- fin,which is more than the Prairie can say to the Pioneers, or the Red Rover throw in the teeth of the Pilot. But as these two are decidedly the best char- acters the author has ever drawn, the merit is somewhat doubtful. The god-father of the tale, who lends it his name, may truly say to his au- thor, with the honest scissors-grinder of Mr. Cannings satire, Story! God bless you! I have none to tell, sir. and truly there is no story. He mixes so little with the other dramatis per- sona~ as to be forgotten, from time to time, and leaves the tale in fact without that necessary personage, a hero. The author does not appear to have had a very clear conception of what he would make; he gave the Bravo a peculiarly marked face, and a striking eye, but nothing more. If he ever walked the earth, and was the imperfect personage which our author has made him, there was abundant ground for the suspicion of the people; he certainly was a very doubtful character. The tale is drawn out to its proper length, by means of two episodes, for such they would be in a poem, although it has required no ingenious weaving of scenes to connect them wit.h the Bravo; he is so conveniently ambiguous and mysterious as to be dropped in at all times, without exciting a moments as- tonishment even in the company he visits. The episodes of which we speak are the rambling and unfinished adven- tures of Don Camillo and his mistress; and the story of Antonio Vecchio. The Don procures his mistress where Paul Pry obtained Mrs. Subtles letters; he

The Bravo: a Tale. By the author of "The Spy," "The Red Rover," etc. Literary Notices 83-85

83 LITERARY The Bravo: a Tale. By the Au.. thor of the Spy, the Red Rover, & c. Supposing this work fairly entitled to notice as the production of an American pen, although the author pursues his profession on another continentfor which he, doubtless, has more substan- tial reasons than could be given for his return,we have perused it with much tttention. As it is the acknowledged offspring of one who, by general con- sent, stands first of all our American dealers in fiction, we would treat it with great respect. We shall confess, however, in the commencement, that we are pleased neither with its form nor its feat~ires, neither with the particular limbs, nor the compounded fabrication. As a picture of the social system of an ancient Republic, it is in many re- spects powerfully, and we doubt not, correctly drawn. As a romance, a dra- ma, a mere work of fiction, depending upon the imagination and ability of the author, it is an ablefailure. The ac- tion of the Bravo,and the same, it is believed, may be said of each of the authors works,is too like the per- formance of an excellent piece, one of Shakspeares or Massingers best, by one of our tragical companies of tra- gedians ; it has but one prominent character, who is the star of the even- ing, or the piece, and to whom the sub- ordinates are the foils, and not the as- sistants. They have neither presence, finish, nor character of themselves; they might say, with Nick Bottoms lion, If you think I come hither as a lion, it were pity of my life ; they come, rather, as the same worthys fin- gers did, to represent a wall, because a wall was necessary, and not because it was of any advantage to the dramatic effect of the piteous tragedy his friends enacted. So with this tale. The Bravo stands alone. He has no natural con- nection with the story to which he has given his name; and appears to be rather a stranger upon his own premises. He walks about, with a pale face, and an eye of wonderful powers, shunning every body, that he may give them an occasion to suspect him of nameless crimes, and makes a blood-thrilling and horrible confession ofnothing at all; for in the end he avows that he was an injured man, and that he had no crimes to confess. His whole story is told in few words. He is a secret agent of the Venetian police; hired by them, like NOTICES. Hamlets actors, to make his damna- ble faces on the Rialto, to draw the attention of the populace upon himself as a public bravo; exposing those who offer to employ him to his own em- ployers; and finally suffering death, through the policy of the State, for a murder committed by the State. This tissue of improbabilities, having an abundance of one prime ingredient of legitimate romance,fiction,ie made pala~b1e by the propriety of his motive, which is filial affection. He suffers for the sins of the whole re ublic, and re- ceives in payment the privilege cf vis- iting his father in prison. This is the whole story of The Bravo. The tale has one merit. We do not recognize in its few characters, the faces of our old friends, Leather-Stocking or Tom Cof- fin,which is more than the Prairie can say to the Pioneers, or the Red Rover throw in the teeth of the Pilot. But as these two are decidedly the best char- acters the author has ever drawn, the merit is somewhat doubtful. The god-father of the tale, who lends it his name, may truly say to his au- thor, with the honest scissors-grinder of Mr. Cannings satire, Story! God bless you! I have none to tell, sir. and truly there is no story. He mixes so little with the other dramatis per- sona~ as to be forgotten, from time to time, and leaves the tale in fact without that necessary personage, a hero. The author does not appear to have had a very clear conception of what he would make; he gave the Bravo a peculiarly marked face, and a striking eye, but nothing more. If he ever walked the earth, and was the imperfect personage which our author has made him, there was abundant ground for the suspicion of the people; he certainly was a very doubtful character. The tale is drawn out to its proper length, by means of two episodes, for such they would be in a poem, although it has required no ingenious weaving of scenes to connect them wit.h the Bravo; he is so conveniently ambiguous and mysterious as to be dropped in at all times, without exciting a moments as- tonishment even in the company he visits. The episodes of which we speak are the rambling and unfinished adven- tures of Don Camillo and his mistress; and the story of Antonio Vecchio. The Don procures his mistress where Paul Pry obtained Mrs. Subtles letters; he Literary Notices. fishes her up, as it were, from the Adri- atic. This, however, is before the story begins, and when they are first intro- duced, the course of true love has heo me as tortuous and confused as the endless canals of Venice; that part of their hisl~ory is in the full tide of sighs a d bstacles. Donna Violetta being a retired maiden, we see but little of her; she is a passive actress, and too inof- fensive to justify criticism. They are married at a moments warning, sepa- rated, re-united, and make their escape with a strong southerly wind; we are never told whether they are happy or miserable, which would be interesting information, or even whether they reach- ed their destination at all; and, for aught that appears, they may still be enjoying the southerly breezes, and wondering at the similarity of a hawk and a handsaw. The story of Antonio is perfect of it- self, and exceedingly well told. The old fisherman is the only personage in the book who has any peculiar fea- tures in his character, or who would be recognized or remembered, upon a second reading. His rash honesty is of the Long Tom school, although of a more elevated cast, inasmuch as his mo- ti yes of action are of a more dignified character. He has our sympathies throughout; and his death is the finest scene in the tale,the greatest effect being produced by the simplest and least artificial means. The power of the author is also shown in the closing scene, the death of the Bravo, and the dialogue is occasionally spirited, al- though such is not its general char- acter. We have alluded above to the eye of the Bravo; but the author seems to have a fathers fondness for it and in- troduces it in every page. It is, in truth, a miraculous organ, as we shall show by a few quotations. Thus Out of this striking array of features, gleam- ed an eye, that was full of brilliancy, meaning, and passion. p. 18. His glittering organs rolled over the per- sons, & c. p. 18. Before his form was lost in the crowd that quick and glowing eye had gleamed, & c. p. 19. Full upon the calm countenance and searching eye, & c. p 52. The riveted gaze of the Bravo, & c. p. 52. The organ which glanced at its seal and its superscription, gleamed with an expression which the credulous gondolier fancied to resem- ble that of the tiger, & c. p. 54. The dark eye of the Bravo was seen rolling over the person, & c. p. 55. The glowing eye of Jacopo, & c. p.84. The eye of the Bravo kindled with an cx- pression which caused his companion to pause, & c. p. 90. The pallid countenance and glittering eye of Jacopo, & c. p. 157. The paleness of the cheek was the same, and the glowing eye, & c. p. 180. The action caused the rays of the moon to fall athwart his kindling eye, & c. p. 228. With a keen eye, & c. p. 229. The glaring eye of the Bravo, & c. p. 239. He bent a frenzied eye, & c. p. 240. When that speaking eye was unexpectedly met, & c. vol. ii. p. 32. His eve turned wistfully, & c. p. 39. The Bravo paused and looked doubtfully, & c. p 39. His look became still more wistful, & c. p. 41. Admonisbed by his impatient. eye, & c. p. 63. Here are not half the changes of this wonderful eye, but they are sufficient to sh w the peculiar affection of the au- thor for its power and its performances. Whenever he brings us the Bravo, care is taken to show us that his eyes are still in his head, and ready to gleam, glow, glance, or roll, as the case may be. He has given us a book of eyes. Violetta has bright eyes, the monk An- selmo severe eyes, Annina suspicious eyes, ~essina timid eyes, and finally a crowd becomes, by a figure, changed into a vast court, paved with the swarthy faces and glittering eyes of the fishermen. These Whitings eyes, as Cacafogo says, become the most prominent feature in the story; and they are distributed with great liberality among all classes, from the secretThree to the gondoliers. To prevent compe- tition between his two best characters, probably, or to give a pleasant variety to the work, the author has made the breast the most conspicuous part of An- tonio; and be is never introduced with- out some allusion to his naked breast, or his i~rown and naked bo- som. An inventory, like that of the properties of .Jacopos eye, might be made out were it necessary. His own sorrows were not a heavier burden to the poorfisherman, than are the epithets the author has heaped upon his breast. Perhaps these things are hardly worth noticing; and yet to our mind, they show the poverty of the author, in a particular where lie has been said to be unrivalled,that of description. But his descriptions are not always happy, or, to use a common word, graphic; and for the simple reason, that what an author has not accurately in his own mind, he cannot convey with much distinctness, by means (if language, to the mind of another. This is the case 84 Literary Notices. with Jacopo, as mentioned above; it would be difficult to say whether he has any other connection with human- ity, than by means of his eye, which could not have been an attractive one. It was our intention to have said something more concerning what the author of the Bravo has, and what he has not; and particularly the reputa- tion which he has. and the ability which he has not. But it would be a source of regret, were a word of ours to inter- fere with the sale of a single copy. Literary labor is but poorly paid at the best, and if he has been fortunate enough to fall in with the current, we had rather pray for his greater improve- ment, than for a decrease of his popu- larity. As a picture of the crooked policy of Venice, The Bravo is worthy of attention. The History of America. By Thomas F. Gordon. Volumes first and sec- ond, containing the History of the Spanish Discoveries prior to 1520. These two volumes are intended as the introductory volumes, to a general history of America, and under the im- pression that it is to be the best, as well as the most comprehensive history of our country, we have read them with no little interest. If the methodical ar- rangement, and workmanlike execution of these, afford a fair specimen of the subsequent volumes, there can be no hesitation in predicting the success of the enterprise. The little attention given to the reading of history, and especially to that of our own country, has often been noticed; but the supera- bundance of fictitious and useless works, forbids our anticipating any change for the better, until a connected history, which combines authenticity with the attractions of style, shall be offered asa substitute. It would be a hazardous ex- periment for our veracity, involving, perhaps, something more than contra- diction, were we to assert that the ex- ploits of Ojeda and Basco Nunez, in the subjection of Hispaniola, Panama, and Darien, are infinitely more romantic and more deeply tinged with .the mar- velous and the heroic, than all the knighty labors of Ivanhoe or Quert~in Durward; that there existed, long prior to the creations of Scott, more than one heroine, to whom the masculine Diana Vernon, and the beautiful Amy Robsart, and the unfortunate Lucy Ashton, must gtv e place; that the labors of Las Ca- ses entitle him to rank as high above howard, in the calender of benevo- lence, as he ~vas before that philanthro 85 pist in the course of time; that for cru- elty and treachery, the Spaniards stand on a pinnacle, as unapproachable as it is infamous; and in short, that we have, for the ninety-ninth time, perused this Indian history with more interest than the great unknown himself could have excited. Men whose profession it is to read every thing, or, as that is im- possible, who pretend to know the pro- ductive power of the literary garden, and to keep some record of the value of its productions, will soon lose their taste for the romantic, and the improbabilities which were at first enchanting, become tiresome and then disgusting; and the old in books, like the old in years, pine for something more substantial than metaphors. The truths of history, or philosophy, which is the same thing, supply this new demand; and the regu- lar reader is gradually converted from the lover of folly to the lover of facts. It is generally admitted that the taste of this generation is somewhat per- verted; but lectures are worse than use- less; and active remedies are best for troublesome disorders. We would re- commend that, at the age of sixteen, or thereabouts, every male and female, be compelled to read, aloud, Byrons drama called Manfred. The medicine is a little violent, notwithstanding the beau- ty of some of its ingredients, and the sublime quality of other portions, but if it did not effectually eradicate all dispo- sition to batten on this moor of non- sense, there is but one further resource for the patientan immediate incarce- ration in the first retreat for incurables. As for the pseudo rhyme-mongers, who, as they do not acknowledge the author- ity, cannot be considered amenable to any laws of taste or criticism, they ought to have daily doses of the same poem, until they repent and abstain, or until they look with as much abhorrence upon Lord Byrons works and those of his imitators, as we do upon their thin octavos, half margin and half nothing. In his History, Mr. Gordon hks fol- lowed the plan and general arrangement of Campagnonis work, which he pro- nounces to be the fullest compendium of American History. The first volume commences with a brief account of the geographical knowledge of the ancients, and of their important, although dila- tory movements, until the discoveries on the coast of Africa, by the Portu- guese, in their search for the passage to India by a southerly course. The doubling of cape Bojaador, which took place at about the birth of Columbus, gave the first idea of the continent of

The History of America. Thomas F. Gordon Literary Notices 85-86

Literary Notices. with Jacopo, as mentioned above; it would be difficult to say whether he has any other connection with human- ity, than by means of his eye, which could not have been an attractive one. It was our intention to have said something more concerning what the author of the Bravo has, and what he has not; and particularly the reputa- tion which he has. and the ability which he has not. But it would be a source of regret, were a word of ours to inter- fere with the sale of a single copy. Literary labor is but poorly paid at the best, and if he has been fortunate enough to fall in with the current, we had rather pray for his greater improve- ment, than for a decrease of his popu- larity. As a picture of the crooked policy of Venice, The Bravo is worthy of attention. The History of America. By Thomas F. Gordon. Volumes first and sec- ond, containing the History of the Spanish Discoveries prior to 1520. These two volumes are intended as the introductory volumes, to a general history of America, and under the im- pression that it is to be the best, as well as the most comprehensive history of our country, we have read them with no little interest. If the methodical ar- rangement, and workmanlike execution of these, afford a fair specimen of the subsequent volumes, there can be no hesitation in predicting the success of the enterprise. The little attention given to the reading of history, and especially to that of our own country, has often been noticed; but the supera- bundance of fictitious and useless works, forbids our anticipating any change for the better, until a connected history, which combines authenticity with the attractions of style, shall be offered asa substitute. It would be a hazardous ex- periment for our veracity, involving, perhaps, something more than contra- diction, were we to assert that the ex- ploits of Ojeda and Basco Nunez, in the subjection of Hispaniola, Panama, and Darien, are infinitely more romantic and more deeply tinged with .the mar- velous and the heroic, than all the knighty labors of Ivanhoe or Quert~in Durward; that there existed, long prior to the creations of Scott, more than one heroine, to whom the masculine Diana Vernon, and the beautiful Amy Robsart, and the unfortunate Lucy Ashton, must gtv e place; that the labors of Las Ca- ses entitle him to rank as high above howard, in the calender of benevo- lence, as he ~vas before that philanthro 85 pist in the course of time; that for cru- elty and treachery, the Spaniards stand on a pinnacle, as unapproachable as it is infamous; and in short, that we have, for the ninety-ninth time, perused this Indian history with more interest than the great unknown himself could have excited. Men whose profession it is to read every thing, or, as that is im- possible, who pretend to know the pro- ductive power of the literary garden, and to keep some record of the value of its productions, will soon lose their taste for the romantic, and the improbabilities which were at first enchanting, become tiresome and then disgusting; and the old in books, like the old in years, pine for something more substantial than metaphors. The truths of history, or philosophy, which is the same thing, supply this new demand; and the regu- lar reader is gradually converted from the lover of folly to the lover of facts. It is generally admitted that the taste of this generation is somewhat per- verted; but lectures are worse than use- less; and active remedies are best for troublesome disorders. We would re- commend that, at the age of sixteen, or thereabouts, every male and female, be compelled to read, aloud, Byrons drama called Manfred. The medicine is a little violent, notwithstanding the beau- ty of some of its ingredients, and the sublime quality of other portions, but if it did not effectually eradicate all dispo- sition to batten on this moor of non- sense, there is but one further resource for the patientan immediate incarce- ration in the first retreat for incurables. As for the pseudo rhyme-mongers, who, as they do not acknowledge the author- ity, cannot be considered amenable to any laws of taste or criticism, they ought to have daily doses of the same poem, until they repent and abstain, or until they look with as much abhorrence upon Lord Byrons works and those of his imitators, as we do upon their thin octavos, half margin and half nothing. In his History, Mr. Gordon hks fol- lowed the plan and general arrangement of Campagnonis work, which he pro- nounces to be the fullest compendium of American History. The first volume commences with a brief account of the geographical knowledge of the ancients, and of their important, although dila- tory movements, until the discoveries on the coast of Africa, by the Portu- guese, in their search for the passage to India by a southerly course. The doubling of cape Bojaador, which took place at about the birth of Columbus, gave the first idea of the continent of 86 Africa, and gave a new impulse and a different direction to the speculations of the scientific. The grand object was to reach India. It was in pursuit of his own favorite theory, the attainment of this same object by a western course, that Columbus discovered the West- Indies; and he died, as he had lived, in the supposition that he had landed upon the East-Indian Islands, and in the neighborhood of the Great Khan. The several voyages of Columbus, and those of his Spanish cotemporaries, to the Is- lands and to the continent of South America, are treated in chronological order; and the work furnishes a concise and intelligible narrative of events, down to the year 1520, and the contro- versies between the Spanish and Portu- guese crowns for the possession of some of the newly discovered countries. As we intimated above, we think favorably of the plan of Mr. Gordon, and of the execution, thus far. The following is the conclusion of his preface. We are aware of the great extent of our en- terprise, and of the many difficulties which at- tend it; but whilst we solicit charity for our defects, we feel much confidence in our indus- try, patience, and perseverance; and cannot doubt that an undertaking so useful, if executed without gross error or deficiency, will be dimly encouraged. The form we propose to give the work is such, as, we trust, will render it ac- ceptable to all classes of readers, whilst a scru- pulous reference to authorities will make it use- ful to the learned. One or more engravings illustrative of interesting portions of the work, will accompany each volume. It will be print- ed in parts, as we have already indicated, in l8mo volumes of about three hundred pages each and sold at a price that will put them within the means of every purchaser. A Guide for Emigrants, contain- ing Sketches of Illinois, Missouri, and the adjacent parts. By J. M. Peck, of Rock Spring, Illinois. This volume is a sort of manual for the emigrant, and contains much valu- able information for the Eastern strang- er who may be seeking a more congen- ial climate, a relief for misfortune, or a retreat for agricultural indolence, in the rich prairies of the West. The work is principally devoted to the state of Illinois, and is compiledin a man- ner more satistactory to the traveler than the scholar,from the writings of Flint, Hall, Beck, Darby, and others, with many calculations, directions, and reflections, derived from the experience of the author himself. We should re- commend it without hesitation to any persons who may be seeking a new location, as the phrase is, as calcu- lated to assist their search for a farm, and containing good advice relative to the Literary Notices. cultivation of the land, and their inter- course with the people. Whatever their own modesty may induce them to suppose, and notwithstanding the set- tlement of Ohio, we believe that since the people of the Western States them- selves began to move, the Yankees are not the best emigrants. They are such a peculiar people, that when the colo- niesfor they generally migrate in col- onieshave made their settlement a- mon g a people equally peculiar and equally obstinate, they find it difficult to amalgamate. People who are tired of New-England, would do well to take Mr. Pecks book for a guide, and go the Congress lands of illinois in single families. If they cannot succeed there, it may be taken for granted that they will not any where,and there can be no objection to their joining even the wild crusade to the mouth of the Columbia. The New-Englander will probably read the annexed extract with a smile of incredulity at the enthusiasm of the writer; but a comparison of official do- cuments, especially the Census, will convince him of the possibility of the prediction, it contains; and a single ride from Louisville to St. Louis will also remove all doubts about the prob- abilities of the case; and it may be true without depopulating New-Eng- land. Probably there is no portion of the globe, of equal extent, that contains as much soil fit for cultivation, and which is capable of sustaining and supplying with all the necessaries and con- veniences, and most of time luxuries of life, so dense a population as this great Valley. De- ducting one third of its surface for water and desert, which is a very liberal allo~vance, and there remains 866,667 square miles, or 554,666,880 acres of arable land. Let it become as populous as Massachusetts, which contains 610,014 inhabitants on an area of 7,800 square miles, or seventy-eight to every 640 acres, and the population of this immense region will amount to 67,600,000. The child is now born which will live to see this result. Suppose its population to become equally dense with England, including Wales, which contains 207 to the square mile, and its numbers will amount to 179,400,000. Butlet it become equal to the Netherlands, the most populous country on the globe, containing 230 to the square mile, and the Valley of the Mississippi teems with a population of 200 millions, a result which may be had in the same time that New-Eng- land has been gathering its two millions. What reflections ought this view to present to the patriot, the philanthropist, and the Christ- ian! In the description of the animals of the West, we find the following para- graph. The Gopher is a nondescript, and a singular little animal, about the size of a squirrel. It burrows in the ground, is seldom seen, but its works make it known. It labors during the

A Guide for Emigrants, containing Sketches of Illinois, Missouri, and the adjacent parts. J. M. Peck Literary Notices 86-87

86 Africa, and gave a new impulse and a different direction to the speculations of the scientific. The grand object was to reach India. It was in pursuit of his own favorite theory, the attainment of this same object by a western course, that Columbus discovered the West- Indies; and he died, as he had lived, in the supposition that he had landed upon the East-Indian Islands, and in the neighborhood of the Great Khan. The several voyages of Columbus, and those of his Spanish cotemporaries, to the Is- lands and to the continent of South America, are treated in chronological order; and the work furnishes a concise and intelligible narrative of events, down to the year 1520, and the contro- versies between the Spanish and Portu- guese crowns for the possession of some of the newly discovered countries. As we intimated above, we think favorably of the plan of Mr. Gordon, and of the execution, thus far. The following is the conclusion of his preface. We are aware of the great extent of our en- terprise, and of the many difficulties which at- tend it; but whilst we solicit charity for our defects, we feel much confidence in our indus- try, patience, and perseverance; and cannot doubt that an undertaking so useful, if executed without gross error or deficiency, will be dimly encouraged. The form we propose to give the work is such, as, we trust, will render it ac- ceptable to all classes of readers, whilst a scru- pulous reference to authorities will make it use- ful to the learned. One or more engravings illustrative of interesting portions of the work, will accompany each volume. It will be print- ed in parts, as we have already indicated, in l8mo volumes of about three hundred pages each and sold at a price that will put them within the means of every purchaser. A Guide for Emigrants, contain- ing Sketches of Illinois, Missouri, and the adjacent parts. By J. M. Peck, of Rock Spring, Illinois. This volume is a sort of manual for the emigrant, and contains much valu- able information for the Eastern strang- er who may be seeking a more congen- ial climate, a relief for misfortune, or a retreat for agricultural indolence, in the rich prairies of the West. The work is principally devoted to the state of Illinois, and is compiledin a man- ner more satistactory to the traveler than the scholar,from the writings of Flint, Hall, Beck, Darby, and others, with many calculations, directions, and reflections, derived from the experience of the author himself. We should re- commend it without hesitation to any persons who may be seeking a new location, as the phrase is, as calcu- lated to assist their search for a farm, and containing good advice relative to the Literary Notices. cultivation of the land, and their inter- course with the people. Whatever their own modesty may induce them to suppose, and notwithstanding the set- tlement of Ohio, we believe that since the people of the Western States them- selves began to move, the Yankees are not the best emigrants. They are such a peculiar people, that when the colo- niesfor they generally migrate in col- onieshave made their settlement a- mon g a people equally peculiar and equally obstinate, they find it difficult to amalgamate. People who are tired of New-England, would do well to take Mr. Pecks book for a guide, and go the Congress lands of illinois in single families. If they cannot succeed there, it may be taken for granted that they will not any where,and there can be no objection to their joining even the wild crusade to the mouth of the Columbia. The New-Englander will probably read the annexed extract with a smile of incredulity at the enthusiasm of the writer; but a comparison of official do- cuments, especially the Census, will convince him of the possibility of the prediction, it contains; and a single ride from Louisville to St. Louis will also remove all doubts about the prob- abilities of the case; and it may be true without depopulating New-Eng- land. Probably there is no portion of the globe, of equal extent, that contains as much soil fit for cultivation, and which is capable of sustaining and supplying with all the necessaries and con- veniences, and most of time luxuries of life, so dense a population as this great Valley. De- ducting one third of its surface for water and desert, which is a very liberal allo~vance, and there remains 866,667 square miles, or 554,666,880 acres of arable land. Let it become as populous as Massachusetts, which contains 610,014 inhabitants on an area of 7,800 square miles, or seventy-eight to every 640 acres, and the population of this immense region will amount to 67,600,000. The child is now born which will live to see this result. Suppose its population to become equally dense with England, including Wales, which contains 207 to the square mile, and its numbers will amount to 179,400,000. Butlet it become equal to the Netherlands, the most populous country on the globe, containing 230 to the square mile, and the Valley of the Mississippi teems with a population of 200 millions, a result which may be had in the same time that New-Eng- land has been gathering its two millions. What reflections ought this view to present to the patriot, the philanthropist, and the Christ- ian! In the description of the animals of the West, we find the following para- graph. The Gopher is a nondescript, and a singular little animal, about the size of a squirrel. It burrows in the ground, is seldom seen, but its works make it known. It labors during the Literary Notices. 87 night, in digging subterranean passasges in the rich soil of the prairies, and throws up hillocks of fresh earth, within a few feet distance from each other, and from twelve to eighteen inches in height. I have seen a dozen of these hil- locks, the production of one nights labor, and apparently from a single gophar. The passages are formed in such a labyrinth, that it is a dif- ilcult matter to find the animal by digging. That the Gopher is a nondescript no one will dispute; it is indeed seldom seen, and although one would suppose from this description that the author had inspected the animal, yet we shall venture to say that he knows it only by the works of which he speaks. Mr. Flint describes it as a a species of mole of cerulean color, with a pouch on each side of the jaw, to carry dirt; but he does not intimate that he has ever seen one, nor do we know that any of the many Western historians have been so fortunate as to discover the ani- mal before describing it; and the near- eat approach we have been able to make towards certainty, after wondering over many of their mounds, is the word of a friend in Illinois, who was told by a neighbor that his father had seen a hunter, who had the skeleton of a Gopher. This is the strongest evidence we have of its existence, although its works, under the different names of Gopher and Salamander, are found all over the southern and western prairies. A Manual containing information respecting the growth of the Mulberry tree, with suitable directions for the culture of Silk. In three parts. By J. H. Cobb, A. M. A Silk Worm is in its brief existence the most industrious of all animals. It shames the bee and the antwhich toil only for the sordid and miserly satisfac- tion of hoarding; while the silk worm looking towards immortality, passes its life in preparing its own shroud, or mon- ument. The cell is rifled by the cupid- ity of manand so are, the pyramids from whence the mummies are filched with as little remorse as though they were the bones of brute beasts. Sic vos non vobis. The use of silk is so univer- sal that, in the temperate and torrid re- gions of the earth, there are few peo- ple except the miserable poor who have not of it some article of dress, and it is used in sewing almost every other ma- terial of covering; yet, though it is al- most a necessary of life over half the globe, but a small portion of the earth is devoted to its culture. The only proper food for the silk worm is the leaf of the mulberry-tree--of which the white is the best. One ounce of seed will produce 5000 trees, which may be planted in hedges, where it is more easy to reach the leaves. The mulber- ry is a hardy, thrifty tree, and attains to a great age. Shakspeares Mulberry might have lived to this day, and the first tree of the kind planted in France (at Montelimart) nearly three centuries ago, is now in existence. The Chinese mulberry is said to be superior to all others, and the worms will be satisfied with a less supply of its leaves than of the leaves of the other kind; some of them are larger than the crown of a hat. It grows with many shoots from the roots. One acre of full grown mulberry trees will pro- duce forty pounds of silk, worth five dol- lars per pound; the expenses deducted leave $86 profit per acre, and the prin- cipal part of the labor is carried on by women and children in less than six weeks. This calculation was made at Mansfield, Connecticut. The estimates at Philadelphia and elsewhere, are higher, but the former seems to be the safest. M.DHomergue says, that an acre will produce ninety thousand pounds of leaveswhich, if sold on the tree, at half a cent per pound, will produce $450; or, if sold, deliver- ed, at one cent, produce $900. This would produce thirty seven hundred pounds of cocoons which, at twenty five cents per pound, (with the moth,) is $925. The same quantity well reeled, produces four hundred and twenty pounds of raw silk, which at $3 per pound, the price of the China silk here, makes $1260; if, however, it is per- fectly well reeled and fitted for the Eu- ropean market, it may produce at $6 per pound, $2520. Mr. Cobb has furnished a very useful book, which is in the reach of every farmer. It is so plain that any one may learn from it at once every thing need- ful to be done to raise and reel silk suc- cessfully; and the author seems to be in a fair way of doing much good in his day and generation. In a short historical account subjoin- ed,it is stated that James I. intruduced the silk worm into Virginia and com- posed a book of instruction on the sub- ject. He desired that the mulberry trees should supercede the tobacco plant, against which the British Solo- mon blew a furious counterblast. Every planter who failed to raise one mulberry tree on every ten acres of land, was fined ten pounds of tobacco; and five thousand pounds of tobacco were promised to any one who should produce in one year, one thousand pounds of wound silk. In 1664, one estate had twenty thousand mulberry trees. The culture of silk was also in-

A Manual containing information respecting the growth of the Mulberry tree, with suitable directions for the culture of Silk. J. H. Conn Literary Notices 87-88

Literary Notices. 87 night, in digging subterranean passasges in the rich soil of the prairies, and throws up hillocks of fresh earth, within a few feet distance from each other, and from twelve to eighteen inches in height. I have seen a dozen of these hil- locks, the production of one nights labor, and apparently from a single gophar. The passages are formed in such a labyrinth, that it is a dif- ilcult matter to find the animal by digging. That the Gopher is a nondescript no one will dispute; it is indeed seldom seen, and although one would suppose from this description that the author had inspected the animal, yet we shall venture to say that he knows it only by the works of which he speaks. Mr. Flint describes it as a a species of mole of cerulean color, with a pouch on each side of the jaw, to carry dirt; but he does not intimate that he has ever seen one, nor do we know that any of the many Western historians have been so fortunate as to discover the ani- mal before describing it; and the near- eat approach we have been able to make towards certainty, after wondering over many of their mounds, is the word of a friend in Illinois, who was told by a neighbor that his father had seen a hunter, who had the skeleton of a Gopher. This is the strongest evidence we have of its existence, although its works, under the different names of Gopher and Salamander, are found all over the southern and western prairies. A Manual containing information respecting the growth of the Mulberry tree, with suitable directions for the culture of Silk. In three parts. By J. H. Cobb, A. M. A Silk Worm is in its brief existence the most industrious of all animals. It shames the bee and the antwhich toil only for the sordid and miserly satisfac- tion of hoarding; while the silk worm looking towards immortality, passes its life in preparing its own shroud, or mon- ument. The cell is rifled by the cupid- ity of manand so are, the pyramids from whence the mummies are filched with as little remorse as though they were the bones of brute beasts. Sic vos non vobis. The use of silk is so univer- sal that, in the temperate and torrid re- gions of the earth, there are few peo- ple except the miserable poor who have not of it some article of dress, and it is used in sewing almost every other ma- terial of covering; yet, though it is al- most a necessary of life over half the globe, but a small portion of the earth is devoted to its culture. The only proper food for the silk worm is the leaf of the mulberry-tree--of which the white is the best. One ounce of seed will produce 5000 trees, which may be planted in hedges, where it is more easy to reach the leaves. The mulber- ry is a hardy, thrifty tree, and attains to a great age. Shakspeares Mulberry might have lived to this day, and the first tree of the kind planted in France (at Montelimart) nearly three centuries ago, is now in existence. The Chinese mulberry is said to be superior to all others, and the worms will be satisfied with a less supply of its leaves than of the leaves of the other kind; some of them are larger than the crown of a hat. It grows with many shoots from the roots. One acre of full grown mulberry trees will pro- duce forty pounds of silk, worth five dol- lars per pound; the expenses deducted leave $86 profit per acre, and the prin- cipal part of the labor is carried on by women and children in less than six weeks. This calculation was made at Mansfield, Connecticut. The estimates at Philadelphia and elsewhere, are higher, but the former seems to be the safest. M.DHomergue says, that an acre will produce ninety thousand pounds of leaveswhich, if sold on the tree, at half a cent per pound, will produce $450; or, if sold, deliver- ed, at one cent, produce $900. This would produce thirty seven hundred pounds of cocoons which, at twenty five cents per pound, (with the moth,) is $925. The same quantity well reeled, produces four hundred and twenty pounds of raw silk, which at $3 per pound, the price of the China silk here, makes $1260; if, however, it is per- fectly well reeled and fitted for the Eu- ropean market, it may produce at $6 per pound, $2520. Mr. Cobb has furnished a very useful book, which is in the reach of every farmer. It is so plain that any one may learn from it at once every thing need- ful to be done to raise and reel silk suc- cessfully; and the author seems to be in a fair way of doing much good in his day and generation. In a short historical account subjoin- ed,it is stated that James I. intruduced the silk worm into Virginia and com- posed a book of instruction on the sub- ject. He desired that the mulberry trees should supercede the tobacco plant, against which the British Solo- mon blew a furious counterblast. Every planter who failed to raise one mulberry tree on every ten acres of land, was fined ten pounds of tobacco; and five thousand pounds of tobacco were promised to any one who should produce in one year, one thousand pounds of wound silk. In 1664, one estate had twenty thousand mulberry trees. The culture of silk was also in- Literary Notices. troduced into Georgia, and the public seal of the colony represented silk worms in various stages. In 1776, more than twenty thousand pounds of raw silk were exported to England. In Con- necticut silk has been raised for seventy years, and about four tons are pro- duced annually in Windham county. The Cabinet of Natural History and American Rural Sports. This is a monthly periodical, pub- lished at Philadelphia, by Messrs. J. & T. Doughty, and is a work, which in its commencement required no little enterprise,considering how few of our people can in any manner claim to be sportsmen, and how little counte- nance is given to many works of manifest utility,and no little talent, so far as the pencil is concerned, in its execution. The twelve first numbers, which are now nearly completed, make a quarto volume of about three hundred pages, embellished with twenty-four lithographic plates, handsomely colored, representing different animals, birds, and fishes. The plates give the chief value to the work. They are drawn and colored by one of the publishers, who has acquired considerable reputa- tion as a painter. Each plate is accom- panied by an essay giving an account of the subject, which is suited either to the common reader or the scientific student. The editors make no preten- sions to literary elegance, but there are, among the original notices of American Sports, some descriptions of perilous encounters, which are as creditable to the pens of the authors, as the feats were to their courage. It should be recollected, also, that the author is ne- cessarily the hero of his own tale, which is a disadvantage to some men when writing for the public, although it may add to the charm of the narra- tive in the social circle. As the Cabinet is the only work of the kind, it seems to appeal with some force to Americans; as no country af- fords more occupation for the natural historian, and our works, in all depart- ments of Zoology, are few and expen- sive. In addition to this, it may be assumed that every publication, which is calculated to enlighten the com- munity upon points connected with their daily pursuits, their history, their country, or its contents, is entitled to their supportauthenticity only being required in the publishers. The American Annual Register; for the year 182930, or the fifty-fourth year of American Independence. Perhaps the most satisfactory com- mendation which could be bestowed upon this work, would be a publication of the table of contents; but for this, or even an abstract of it, we have not the space. It is an octavo volume, com- prising more than eight hundred pages, containing very copious abstracts of Congressional proceedings, notices of events in foreign countries, the most important documents issuing from Con- gress and the Executive Departments, a succinct history of legislative and lo- cal affairs and domestic occurrences, in each state, acts of Congress, abstracts of important law decisions, and a few obituary notices of conspicuous individ- uals. Of such a work it may always be said, that, if fairly executed, it must be valuable to all classes, where politics, in some of the many forms in which political causes operate, are the study of all intelligent people. It is impos- sible to peruse the book without perceiv- ing that the editor ranks himself among the opponents of the present admin- istration of the general government, on nearly all, if not every one of its prom- inent measures; but we see no reason to accuse him of partiality. A few errors might be pointed out, some of them rather the mistakes of the printer than the editor, but trivial errors are of great importance in historical works, or books intended for the eductaion of the public, and should not be allowed to escape upon any pretence whatever. Upon the whole, however, we can safely recommend the Register to the student as an accurate compendium of past e- vents, and to the man of business, as a convenient memorial of more matters than he can carry in his mind. The present is the fifth volume. 88

The Cabinet of Natural History and American Rural Sports Literary Notices 88

Literary Notices. troduced into Georgia, and the public seal of the colony represented silk worms in various stages. In 1776, more than twenty thousand pounds of raw silk were exported to England. In Con- necticut silk has been raised for seventy years, and about four tons are pro- duced annually in Windham county. The Cabinet of Natural History and American Rural Sports. This is a monthly periodical, pub- lished at Philadelphia, by Messrs. J. & T. Doughty, and is a work, which in its commencement required no little enterprise,considering how few of our people can in any manner claim to be sportsmen, and how little counte- nance is given to many works of manifest utility,and no little talent, so far as the pencil is concerned, in its execution. The twelve first numbers, which are now nearly completed, make a quarto volume of about three hundred pages, embellished with twenty-four lithographic plates, handsomely colored, representing different animals, birds, and fishes. The plates give the chief value to the work. They are drawn and colored by one of the publishers, who has acquired considerable reputa- tion as a painter. Each plate is accom- panied by an essay giving an account of the subject, which is suited either to the common reader or the scientific student. The editors make no preten- sions to literary elegance, but there are, among the original notices of American Sports, some descriptions of perilous encounters, which are as creditable to the pens of the authors, as the feats were to their courage. It should be recollected, also, that the author is ne- cessarily the hero of his own tale, which is a disadvantage to some men when writing for the public, although it may add to the charm of the narra- tive in the social circle. As the Cabinet is the only work of the kind, it seems to appeal with some force to Americans; as no country af- fords more occupation for the natural historian, and our works, in all depart- ments of Zoology, are few and expen- sive. In addition to this, it may be assumed that every publication, which is calculated to enlighten the com- munity upon points connected with their daily pursuits, their history, their country, or its contents, is entitled to their supportauthenticity only being required in the publishers. The American Annual Register; for the year 182930, or the fifty-fourth year of American Independence. Perhaps the most satisfactory com- mendation which could be bestowed upon this work, would be a publication of the table of contents; but for this, or even an abstract of it, we have not the space. It is an octavo volume, com- prising more than eight hundred pages, containing very copious abstracts of Congressional proceedings, notices of events in foreign countries, the most important documents issuing from Con- gress and the Executive Departments, a succinct history of legislative and lo- cal affairs and domestic occurrences, in each state, acts of Congress, abstracts of important law decisions, and a few obituary notices of conspicuous individ- uals. Of such a work it may always be said, that, if fairly executed, it must be valuable to all classes, where politics, in some of the many forms in which political causes operate, are the study of all intelligent people. It is impos- sible to peruse the book without perceiv- ing that the editor ranks himself among the opponents of the present admin- istration of the general government, on nearly all, if not every one of its prom- inent measures; but we see no reason to accuse him of partiality. A few errors might be pointed out, some of them rather the mistakes of the printer than the editor, but trivial errors are of great importance in historical works, or books intended for the eductaion of the public, and should not be allowed to escape upon any pretence whatever. Upon the whole, however, we can safely recommend the Register to the student as an accurate compendium of past e- vents, and to the man of business, as a convenient memorial of more matters than he can carry in his mind. The present is the fifth volume. 88

The American Annual Register; for the year 1829-30, or the fifty-fourth year of American Independence Literary Notices 88-89

Literary Notices. troduced into Georgia, and the public seal of the colony represented silk worms in various stages. In 1776, more than twenty thousand pounds of raw silk were exported to England. In Con- necticut silk has been raised for seventy years, and about four tons are pro- duced annually in Windham county. The Cabinet of Natural History and American Rural Sports. This is a monthly periodical, pub- lished at Philadelphia, by Messrs. J. & T. Doughty, and is a work, which in its commencement required no little enterprise,considering how few of our people can in any manner claim to be sportsmen, and how little counte- nance is given to many works of manifest utility,and no little talent, so far as the pencil is concerned, in its execution. The twelve first numbers, which are now nearly completed, make a quarto volume of about three hundred pages, embellished with twenty-four lithographic plates, handsomely colored, representing different animals, birds, and fishes. The plates give the chief value to the work. They are drawn and colored by one of the publishers, who has acquired considerable reputa- tion as a painter. Each plate is accom- panied by an essay giving an account of the subject, which is suited either to the common reader or the scientific student. The editors make no preten- sions to literary elegance, but there are, among the original notices of American Sports, some descriptions of perilous encounters, which are as creditable to the pens of the authors, as the feats were to their courage. It should be recollected, also, that the author is ne- cessarily the hero of his own tale, which is a disadvantage to some men when writing for the public, although it may add to the charm of the narra- tive in the social circle. As the Cabinet is the only work of the kind, it seems to appeal with some force to Americans; as no country af- fords more occupation for the natural historian, and our works, in all depart- ments of Zoology, are few and expen- sive. In addition to this, it may be assumed that every publication, which is calculated to enlighten the com- munity upon points connected with their daily pursuits, their history, their country, or its contents, is entitled to their supportauthenticity only being required in the publishers. The American Annual Register; for the year 182930, or the fifty-fourth year of American Independence. Perhaps the most satisfactory com- mendation which could be bestowed upon this work, would be a publication of the table of contents; but for this, or even an abstract of it, we have not the space. It is an octavo volume, com- prising more than eight hundred pages, containing very copious abstracts of Congressional proceedings, notices of events in foreign countries, the most important documents issuing from Con- gress and the Executive Departments, a succinct history of legislative and lo- cal affairs and domestic occurrences, in each state, acts of Congress, abstracts of important law decisions, and a few obituary notices of conspicuous individ- uals. Of such a work it may always be said, that, if fairly executed, it must be valuable to all classes, where politics, in some of the many forms in which political causes operate, are the study of all intelligent people. It is impos- sible to peruse the book without perceiv- ing that the editor ranks himself among the opponents of the present admin- istration of the general government, on nearly all, if not every one of its prom- inent measures; but we see no reason to accuse him of partiality. A few errors might be pointed out, some of them rather the mistakes of the printer than the editor, but trivial errors are of great importance in historical works, or books intended for the eductaion of the public, and should not be allowed to escape upon any pretence whatever. Upon the whole, however, we can safely recommend the Register to the student as an accurate compendium of past e- vents, and to the man of business, as a convenient memorial of more matters than he can carry in his mind. The present is the fifth volume. 88 89 MISCELLANIES. PETRIFIED FOREST. The following letter from G. H. Crossman to Lieut. Walker of the United States army, gives some particulars of a remarkable curios- ity, which has been often mentioned, but of which our knowledge is yet very imperfect. Jefferson Barracks, May 1, 1830. Dear Sir,It affords me much plea- sure to comply with your request, with regard to the Petrified Forest. You ask for a memoir on the subject, but you must be satisfied with the follow- ing attempt to give you merely the facts as they came within my own observa- tion, without venturing a single specu- lation beyond the effects produced. I wish rather to leave the subject in abler hands than mine, and if I can aid, in any way, to solve the problem, by a statement of simple facts, (well known, however, to most of the officers at- tached to the Yellow Stone expedition,) I shall feel more than compensated for any time I shall devote to the subject. The enclosed specimen was broken off from one of the many large stumps and limbs of trees, found near Yellow Stone River, and brought away by some one of the officers attached to the Yel- low Stone expedition in 1815. The most remarkable facts, perhaps, with regard to these petrifactions, of what was once a forest of thick timber, are their location and abundance. For a distance of twenty or thirty miles, over an open high prairie, upon the west bank of the Missouri river, and a few miles below its junction with the Yellow Stone, near latitude 48, these remains are more abundant. The topography of this section of the country is hilly, and much broken into deep ravines and hollows. On the sides and summits of the hills, at an elevation of several hundred feet (esti- mated three hundred) above the pre- sent level of the river, and an estimated height (for we have no instruments) of some thousand feet above the ocean, the earths face is literally covered with stumps, roots, and limbs of petrified trees; presenting the appearance of a Petrified Forest ; broken and thrown down by some powerful convulsion of nature, and scattered in all directions in innumerable fragments. Some of the trees appear to have broken off, in falling, close to their roots; while others stand at an elevation of some feet above the surface. Many of the stumps are voL. ii. 12 of a large size; I measured one of them. in company with Surgeon Gale of the army, and found it to be upwards of fifteen feet in circumference. PYRAMIDS OF TEoTIIIUACAN IN MEX- Ico. At a recent meeting of the Lon- don Geographical Society, a communi- cation was read from Lient. Glennie, descriptive of these interesting memo- rials. The village of Teotihuacan is in lat. 100 43 N. and in long. 980 51 W. the variation of the needle being 90 49~ E. The village is elevated 7492 feet above the level of the sea. The pyramids are distant about a mile and a half from it; the largest is 727 feet square at its base, and 221 feet high, with two of its sides parallel to the me- ridian. A rampart of about 350 feet from its base, on the north side of which are the remains of a flight of steps, with a road leading from them in a northerly direction, covered with a white cement. The remains of steps were also found on the pyramids, which were covered with the same sort of white cement, as well as broad terraces extending across the sides. The number of pyramids surrounding the large one, was estimat- ed by Mr. Glennie at about two hun- dred, varying in their dimensions. They are all constructed with volcanic stones and plaster from the adjacent soil, all coated with white cement, and the ground between the bases seems for- merly to have been occupied as streets, being also covered with the same sort of cement. One of the similar pyra- mids was covered with a kind of broken pottery, ornalnented with curious figures and devices; and in the neighborhood of these edifices abundance of small figures were found, such as heads, arms, legs, & c. moulded in clay, and harden- ed by fire. MATERNAL TENDERNESS IN A SPAR- ROW. In North-Carolina, a sparrow, which had built her nest on the thatch- roof of a house, was observed to con- tinue her regular visits long after the time when the young birds had taken their flight. This unusual circumstance continued throughout the year; and in the winter, a gentleman who had all along observed her, determined on in- vestigating its cause. He therefore mounted a ladder, and found one of the young ones detained a prisoner, by means of a string of worsted, which formeii a part of the nest, having be

Miscellanies Miscellanies 89-90

89 MISCELLANIES. PETRIFIED FOREST. The following letter from G. H. Crossman to Lieut. Walker of the United States army, gives some particulars of a remarkable curios- ity, which has been often mentioned, but of which our knowledge is yet very imperfect. Jefferson Barracks, May 1, 1830. Dear Sir,It affords me much plea- sure to comply with your request, with regard to the Petrified Forest. You ask for a memoir on the subject, but you must be satisfied with the follow- ing attempt to give you merely the facts as they came within my own observa- tion, without venturing a single specu- lation beyond the effects produced. I wish rather to leave the subject in abler hands than mine, and if I can aid, in any way, to solve the problem, by a statement of simple facts, (well known, however, to most of the officers at- tached to the Yellow Stone expedition,) I shall feel more than compensated for any time I shall devote to the subject. The enclosed specimen was broken off from one of the many large stumps and limbs of trees, found near Yellow Stone River, and brought away by some one of the officers attached to the Yel- low Stone expedition in 1815. The most remarkable facts, perhaps, with regard to these petrifactions, of what was once a forest of thick timber, are their location and abundance. For a distance of twenty or thirty miles, over an open high prairie, upon the west bank of the Missouri river, and a few miles below its junction with the Yellow Stone, near latitude 48, these remains are more abundant. The topography of this section of the country is hilly, and much broken into deep ravines and hollows. On the sides and summits of the hills, at an elevation of several hundred feet (esti- mated three hundred) above the pre- sent level of the river, and an estimated height (for we have no instruments) of some thousand feet above the ocean, the earths face is literally covered with stumps, roots, and limbs of petrified trees; presenting the appearance of a Petrified Forest ; broken and thrown down by some powerful convulsion of nature, and scattered in all directions in innumerable fragments. Some of the trees appear to have broken off, in falling, close to their roots; while others stand at an elevation of some feet above the surface. Many of the stumps are voL. ii. 12 of a large size; I measured one of them. in company with Surgeon Gale of the army, and found it to be upwards of fifteen feet in circumference. PYRAMIDS OF TEoTIIIUACAN IN MEX- Ico. At a recent meeting of the Lon- don Geographical Society, a communi- cation was read from Lient. Glennie, descriptive of these interesting memo- rials. The village of Teotihuacan is in lat. 100 43 N. and in long. 980 51 W. the variation of the needle being 90 49~ E. The village is elevated 7492 feet above the level of the sea. The pyramids are distant about a mile and a half from it; the largest is 727 feet square at its base, and 221 feet high, with two of its sides parallel to the me- ridian. A rampart of about 350 feet from its base, on the north side of which are the remains of a flight of steps, with a road leading from them in a northerly direction, covered with a white cement. The remains of steps were also found on the pyramids, which were covered with the same sort of white cement, as well as broad terraces extending across the sides. The number of pyramids surrounding the large one, was estimat- ed by Mr. Glennie at about two hun- dred, varying in their dimensions. They are all constructed with volcanic stones and plaster from the adjacent soil, all coated with white cement, and the ground between the bases seems for- merly to have been occupied as streets, being also covered with the same sort of cement. One of the similar pyra- mids was covered with a kind of broken pottery, ornalnented with curious figures and devices; and in the neighborhood of these edifices abundance of small figures were found, such as heads, arms, legs, & c. moulded in clay, and harden- ed by fire. MATERNAL TENDERNESS IN A SPAR- ROW. In North-Carolina, a sparrow, which had built her nest on the thatch- roof of a house, was observed to con- tinue her regular visits long after the time when the young birds had taken their flight. This unusual circumstance continued throughout the year; and in the winter, a gentleman who had all along observed her, determined on in- vestigating its cause. He therefore mounted a ladder, and found one of the young ones detained a prisoner, by means of a string of worsted, which formeii a part of the nest, having be 90 come accidentally twisted round its leg. Being thus incapacitated from procur- ing its own subsistence, it had been fed and sustained by the coi~stinued exer- tions of its mother. FAYETTxVILLE. This town in North- Carolina, was entirely consumed by fire, in May last. An appeal was im- mediately made to the sympathies of the public, and in the course of six months the municipal authorities re- ceived from different sources the sum of $92,297, viz, from Massachusetts, ($9708 from Boston) $14,518; Maine, $125; Rhode-Island, (Providence)$290, ~ 2,067; New-Hampshire, (Portsmouth) onnecticut, $3,002; New-York, (City $10,293) $10,648; Pennsylvania,(Phila- deiphia $11,857) 12,731 ; New-Jersey, $805; Maryland,(Baltimore,5762) $6820; District of Columbia,~ $870; Virginia, $8040; North-Carolina,$11,406; South- Car~ina, (Charleston $5311) $9100; Georgia, $4102 72; Tennessee, $45; Ohio, $1158 ; Mississippi, $1119 Louisiania, (New-Orleans) $5050 United States Army, $195 50; United Obituary Notices. States Navy, (schr. Porpoise,) $200. Total 92,297. DIscovEny. Mr. Curtis, who owns the distillery in Utica, N. Y., in the process of distillation from corn, per- ceived an oil which rose upon the sur- face of the liquor. He took pains to collect it and make a trial of its prop- erties. It has been determined by re- peated experiments by various persons, that the oil answers as well for burning as the best spermaceti oil. It is equally pure and as free from any offensive smell, and will burn as long. Further ex- periments are making of its use in paint- ing, and it is alleged (although a fair ex- periment has not yet been made) that it answers all the purposes of linseed oil. Mr. Curtis procures a little less than a quart from a bushel of corn, and from nine to twelve gallons per day, from the quantity of corn be works up. This oil is worth one dollar a gallon. It is also a deer profit to the distiller, as it does not diminish the quantity of liquor or whiskey. DEATHS, AND OBITUARY NOTICES OF PERSONS LATELY DECEASETh In New-Durham, N. II., Mrs. BETSY BERRY, relict of Jos. Berry, and daughter of Mr. Shad- rach Allard, who was the first settler in said town, aged 73yearsand nine days. Mrs. Berry had lived in that tosvn seventy y~ars, and died on the farm whirh was first settled byher father. In Canterbury, N. LI. EIder J05 Bisnos, Min- ister of the Society of Shakers, in Canterbury and Enfield, aged 71. Forty years ago he went from New-Lebanon and established the Societies in Canterbisry and Enfield, of which he was the father and head. In all the rela- tions of life common to his people he was a most exemplary and pious man. In Boston, WILLIAM Ii. ELIOT, aged 35 years He was the oldest surviving son of Samuel El- iot Esq., long known as an eminent and opu- lent merchant. He received the usual honors of Harvard University, in the year 1815. After having passed some tine in the study of the law, he was sent, by his father, to Europe, and placed under the patronage of a distin lisised professor of the law, in Lontlon. Having completed his studies, be visited different coon- tries on the continent, and returned to Boston to pursue his profession. On the inheritance of an ample fortune, he devoted himself to objerts more congenial to his taste, and snore connected with the general welfare of the cosulnunity, than mere professional occupation. 1-le a as the projector, and the chief and only agent, in ob- taining for this city, aided by a few psiblic spir- ited associates, one of its most endurina and beautiful embellishments, [Tremont House] alike adapted to utility, and to ornament. He lived to enjoy the welcome praise of strangers, from all parts of the world, on the admirable provision made for them; a praise, which he was happy to find to be given, rather to his na- tive city, than to himself. In private life, Mr. Eliot ~as a liberal patron of all arts and sciences, which tend to adorn society, and to promote innocent and elegant amusement. He had natural gifts, which ena- bled hOn to unite with persons of industry and genius, in accomplishing such purposes. He did not limit the use of his own talents to the gratification of polished circles. The recollec- tion of his commendable example, and of his constant service in the house of worship, will sadden many a countenance among those who ovill habitually look for bins where he ivill be seen and heard no more. In his dealing with those whom he employed, he was punctual, honorable and liberal; and he had, as he well deserved to have, their highest respect and con- fidence. He was a generous and gentlemanly friend, and a frank and manly companion. It is worthy of bein~ recorded, that the same papers which announced his death, contained the address and resolutions adopted by his friends, on the evening previous to that event, proposing him as a candidate for the Mayoralty of Boston, and pledging their best exertions to secure his election; and there is good reason to believe, that, had he not been removed, those exertions would have been successful. In Boston, Deacon JOHN SIMPaINs, aged 91; for many ye, rs the senior Deacon in the Congregational Churches in that city. For more than 55 years he sustained that office in the New North Church, having been chosen to it in 1776, during the ministry of the Rev. Dr. Andrew Elliot, and fulfilling with exemplary fidelity the

Obituary Notices Obituary Notices 90-92

90 come accidentally twisted round its leg. Being thus incapacitated from procur- ing its own subsistence, it had been fed and sustained by the coi~stinued exer- tions of its mother. FAYETTxVILLE. This town in North- Carolina, was entirely consumed by fire, in May last. An appeal was im- mediately made to the sympathies of the public, and in the course of six months the municipal authorities re- ceived from different sources the sum of $92,297, viz, from Massachusetts, ($9708 from Boston) $14,518; Maine, $125; Rhode-Island, (Providence)$290, ~ 2,067; New-Hampshire, (Portsmouth) onnecticut, $3,002; New-York, (City $10,293) $10,648; Pennsylvania,(Phila- deiphia $11,857) 12,731 ; New-Jersey, $805; Maryland,(Baltimore,5762) $6820; District of Columbia,~ $870; Virginia, $8040; North-Carolina,$11,406; South- Car~ina, (Charleston $5311) $9100; Georgia, $4102 72; Tennessee, $45; Ohio, $1158 ; Mississippi, $1119 Louisiania, (New-Orleans) $5050 United States Army, $195 50; United Obituary Notices. States Navy, (schr. Porpoise,) $200. Total 92,297. DIscovEny. Mr. Curtis, who owns the distillery in Utica, N. Y., in the process of distillation from corn, per- ceived an oil which rose upon the sur- face of the liquor. He took pains to collect it and make a trial of its prop- erties. It has been determined by re- peated experiments by various persons, that the oil answers as well for burning as the best spermaceti oil. It is equally pure and as free from any offensive smell, and will burn as long. Further ex- periments are making of its use in paint- ing, and it is alleged (although a fair ex- periment has not yet been made) that it answers all the purposes of linseed oil. Mr. Curtis procures a little less than a quart from a bushel of corn, and from nine to twelve gallons per day, from the quantity of corn be works up. This oil is worth one dollar a gallon. It is also a deer profit to the distiller, as it does not diminish the quantity of liquor or whiskey. DEATHS, AND OBITUARY NOTICES OF PERSONS LATELY DECEASETh In New-Durham, N. II., Mrs. BETSY BERRY, relict of Jos. Berry, and daughter of Mr. Shad- rach Allard, who was the first settler in said town, aged 73yearsand nine days. Mrs. Berry had lived in that tosvn seventy y~ars, and died on the farm whirh was first settled byher father. In Canterbury, N. LI. EIder J05 Bisnos, Min- ister of the Society of Shakers, in Canterbury and Enfield, aged 71. Forty years ago he went from New-Lebanon and established the Societies in Canterbisry and Enfield, of which he was the father and head. In all the rela- tions of life common to his people he was a most exemplary and pious man. In Boston, WILLIAM Ii. ELIOT, aged 35 years He was the oldest surviving son of Samuel El- iot Esq., long known as an eminent and opu- lent merchant. He received the usual honors of Harvard University, in the year 1815. After having passed some tine in the study of the law, he was sent, by his father, to Europe, and placed under the patronage of a distin lisised professor of the law, in Lontlon. Having completed his studies, be visited different coon- tries on the continent, and returned to Boston to pursue his profession. On the inheritance of an ample fortune, he devoted himself to objerts more congenial to his taste, and snore connected with the general welfare of the cosulnunity, than mere professional occupation. 1-le a as the projector, and the chief and only agent, in ob- taining for this city, aided by a few psiblic spir- ited associates, one of its most endurina and beautiful embellishments, [Tremont House] alike adapted to utility, and to ornament. He lived to enjoy the welcome praise of strangers, from all parts of the world, on the admirable provision made for them; a praise, which he was happy to find to be given, rather to his na- tive city, than to himself. In private life, Mr. Eliot ~as a liberal patron of all arts and sciences, which tend to adorn society, and to promote innocent and elegant amusement. He had natural gifts, which ena- bled hOn to unite with persons of industry and genius, in accomplishing such purposes. He did not limit the use of his own talents to the gratification of polished circles. The recollec- tion of his commendable example, and of his constant service in the house of worship, will sadden many a countenance among those who ovill habitually look for bins where he ivill be seen and heard no more. In his dealing with those whom he employed, he was punctual, honorable and liberal; and he had, as he well deserved to have, their highest respect and con- fidence. He was a generous and gentlemanly friend, and a frank and manly companion. It is worthy of bein~ recorded, that the same papers which announced his death, contained the address and resolutions adopted by his friends, on the evening previous to that event, proposing him as a candidate for the Mayoralty of Boston, and pledging their best exertions to secure his election; and there is good reason to believe, that, had he not been removed, those exertions would have been successful. In Boston, Deacon JOHN SIMPaINs, aged 91; for many ye, rs the senior Deacon in the Congregational Churches in that city. For more than 55 years he sustained that office in the New North Church, having been chosen to it in 1776, during the ministry of the Rev. Dr. Andrew Elliot, and fulfilling with exemplary fidelity the Obituary Notices. duties belonging to it, till within a short period of his death. In Boston, SAMUEL GoaE, Esq., aged 81. Mr. Gore was an elder brother of the late Gov- ernor Gore. His vocation in life was that of a busy, industrious, thriving mechanic. And when the instruments which he held in his working hours were laid aside, he was the in- telligent and courteous associate of the well informed and respectable men of his time. No man surpassed him in kindness of heart, or in gentleness of manner. His home was the abode of the peaceable and amiable affections, which makes home the most grateful place one can know. Mr. Gore acquired, by his industry an ample fortune, and believed himself, after the age of seventy-five, to he a man of inde- pendent wealth; but unforeseen and distressing changes, in the turn of the times, embittered his last years, and made him the subject of af- fectionate and sorrowful sympathy He was one of the number who destroyed the tea in Boston harbor in 1773. In Brookline, near Boston, Miss HANNAH AnAsss, aged 76. Her literary labors have been long before the public, and have made her name known in Europe as well as in her native land. Her first work, the View of Religions, was published at a time when this country had few authors, and when a book from a female hand was almost without precedent. She was not impelled by any desire of fame; and though the hope of usefulness was undoubtedly a strong motive to her literary exertions, yet this would not have availed without the prospect of contributing by her pen to her own support, and the comfort of her nearest friends. It is grati- fying to know, that she has left behind a simple and interesting memoir of her early life, which precludes the necessity of saying more of her literary history. Indeed literary claims are per- haps among the last that, at a moment like this, present themselves to the minds of her friends. The virtues and excellencies of her character, her blameless life, her sensibility, the warmth of her affections, her sincerity and candor, call forth a flow of feeling that cannot be restrained. To an almost childlike simplicity and single- ness of heart, she united a clear and just con- ception of character; to a deep and affecting humility, a dignity and elevation of thought, that commanded the respect and veneration of those around her. Amidst many infirmities she retained the freshness and enthusiasm of youth; society never lost its charm; to the aged she listened with submission and gentleness; to the classic and highly gifted, with a delight almost amounting to rapture. The young, and there were such who felt it a privilege to sit at her feet, she viewed as mintatering an- gels dispensing joy and gladness. Her love of nature was exhaustless. The first beam of morning, the glory of noon, the last rays of the setting sun, were objects which through a long life she never contemplated with indifference. Those who were in the habit of visiting her, will recollect how constantly her apartment was decorated by the flowers of the field, or the garden. It was her object to gather round her images of natural and moral beauty. In many respects her mind seemed so truly constituted for enjoyment, that to those who knew her but slightly, she might have appeared to be exempt- ed from that mental discipline, which is gradu- ally leading the pilgrim on to the land of prom- ise. But her friends knew otherwise; they knew how keen was her religious sensibility, how tremblingly alive her conscience how high her standard of excellence, and how great her timidity and self-distrust, and they felt that this was not her haven of rest. In Salem, Ms. JOHN Dxaav, Esq. in the 65th year of lsis age. 91 In Dedham, Ms. Capt. SAMUEL DoooETT, an officer of the revolution, aged 80. In Medford, Ms. Mr. AMOS WARREN, aged 83. In the year 1773, he was married to Miss Whit- temore, of West-Cambridge, with whom he lived 58 years. He was among the very few survivers who were in Col. Gardners regiment when they met the British troops at Lexington, on the memorable 19th of April, 1775. In Troy, IN. V. Captain BENJAMIN MANN, aged 93. He commanded a company in the memorable battle on Bunker Hill, and continu- ed in the service during the whole of the revolu- tionary struggle. In Philadelphia, WILLIAM HALL, in the 80th year of his age, the eldest son of David Hall, Esq. a partner of Dr. Franklins, and the last but one of all his family, having outlived all his children. The death of Mr. Hall merits more than a passing notice. He was one of the orig- inal members of the old City Troop of Horse, commanded by Captain Samuel Morris, and has left but one surviver of that corps, John Don- aldson, Esq. Mr. Hall, at different times, re- ceived the confidence of his fellow citizens, and represented his native city in the legislature of the Commonwealth. Through his long life he received the respect of all who had any inter- course with him, and commanded the love and veneration of all his friends and relatives. In Lehman, (Pa.) ABRAHAM PIKE, aged 87 years. He was among the first settlers of the Valley of Wyoming, and was in the memorable battle of 1778, with the Tories and Indians, and narrowly made his escape after being wounded, by swimming down the river three miles to Forty-fort, where he was taken into the fort by his companions, who had survived the general massacre. He was captured by a party of ten Indians in 1779, together with two men and a boy, and was taken up the Susquehanna about sixty miles, when the Indians first halted and encamped for the night; the prisoners were se- cured by the savages, and Pike was placed he-. tween two large Indians. As soon as he found they were asleep, he cautiously arose and un- loosed his companions, who made a simultane- ous attack on the savages, and left seven of them dead on the ground. They then collected what provisions they could, and returned to the Valley, after experiencing all the hardships in- cident to the season. Since that time, he has resided in the Valley, celebrated for his heroic deeds, and respected for his sincere attachment to his country. In Richmond, (Va.) Col. WM. ALLEN, of Sorry county. Col. Allen had attained the 64th year of his age. No man was better known in Virginiafor his extensive possessions, the~sum- her of his slaves, the number and valIle of his estatesand no man less presumed upon his peat wealth, or was more remarkable for his hospitality at home, or for his kindness to his neighbors. Col. Allen is supposed to have owned about 700 slaves. In Fauquier connty, Va. Captain AUGUsTINE SMITH, aged 76. In Greenes campaign in the Carolinas, he was distinguished for his good qualities as a brave and correct man. In Edgefield, S. C. Col. ELOREO SIMEINS, Sen. aged 53. He was Mr. Calhouns immedi- ate successor in the House of Representatives, and sustained himself with credit until he with- drew to make way for his professional partner, Mr. McDuffie. He was repeatedly elected to the legislature of South-Carolina, and was at one time Lieutenant-Governor of that State: and was equally distinguished as a private and public man. In Gahlatin County, Ky. HENRY DAvIGGE, Esq. in the 64th year of his age. For twenty years he discharged the duties of a Judge, and resigned this situation in consequence of his Literary Intelligence. declining health, about two years agosince when, he has been sinking to the tomb, under a general paralysis of both mind and body. In Knox county, Ten. Col. JOHN SAWYER, aged 86. This venerable man pitched his tent with his little family on the 12th of November, 1786, at the place on which he lived and died, and where his remains now lie interred. He was an active and efficient officer in the revolu- tionary war, and commanded a company at the memorable battle of Kings Mountain; an ac- tive and able soldier in the Indian skirmishes, in the first settlement of the country at the close of the svar. In early life he served as a mem- ber of the Legislature of Tennessee; for many years was a Justice of the Peace and it is not doing the deceased more than justice to say, that it is believed no man in the state of Ten- nessee ever did osore good within the range of his official labors. For thirty-five or forty years he was an exemplary Christian and member of the Presbyterian church. At his residence in Unionville, Geaguacounty Ohio, on the 8th ult. the Hon. SAMUEL WHEEL- ER, in the 39th year of his age. Mr. Wheeler was born at Harpersfield, Delaware county, and state of New-York, and removed to Ohio with his parents, in the year 1800. After completing his literary education, he studied the profession of the lasv, and soon distinguished himself at the bar, as a sound discriminating lawyer, and an able and powerful advocate. Endowed by nature with a vigorous intellect, and a heart of uncompromising integrity, he sought and lssr- sued his profession as a science until he reach- ed that honorable distinction in the administra- lion of justice, which is awarded only to emi- nent talents and moral worth. For many suc- cessive years he was a member of the Ohio General Assembly, and the two last years, was Speaker of the Senate. To his talents and in- fluence in that body, the state is much indebted forthe successful prosecution of her canals, and for that judicious legislation which first raised, and has continued to preserve her credit, among the capitalists of the nation. In New-Orleans, the venerable JOSEPH BEE- TOULIN, in the 80th year of his age. Mr. B. was a native of France, but for many years has been a resident of the United States, having, at an early age, embarked for this country with the French army, and continued in that service till the final recognition of American Inde- pendence. In St. Louis, Missouri, in October, Mr STE- PHEN HEMP5TEAO. He was born May 6, 1754, at New-London, Connecticut, of ancestors who emigrated from England previous to the revolu- tion of 1688. At the breaking out of the Amer- ican revolution, he joined the patriot cause with the greatest ardor, and was ~vith the first troops which rendezvoused at Boston, after the battle at Lexington. He was under arms at New-York, when the Declaration of Indepen- dence was read to the troops. In the same year, he was one of the Forlorn Hope in the fire- ships that attacked the British frigates in the North river. He was in the retreat from Long- Island, had a share in the action on Harlem Heights, and was there wounded by a grape shot. It was in that campaign that he was se- lected by the brave and unfortunate Capt. Hale, to accompany him as far as a companion could go in the adventurous attempt to examine the British camp on Long-Island, at the request of Washington. He went with him to Norwalk, fifty miles from New-York, received the depos- ite of his regimentals, and instructions when and where to look for him, if he escaped the perils of his dangerous undertaking. He did not escape; but was discovered and hung, dying as heroically as Andre did; but without the cir- cumltances which gave eclat to the British spy. After waiting the appointed time, Mr. Hemp- stead returned to the army, and closed his mili- tary career, and had well nigh closed Isis life at the murderous capture of Fort Trumbull, Here he was bayoneted in the fort, receiving many wounds, was put into a cart with the dead, and pushed down the hill to run into the river, as the easiest way of burial. A stump stopped the cart, and saved him from a wa~ery grave. In 1811 he emigrated to Missouri, at the instance of his son, the late Edward Hemp- stead, Esq,, then an eminent lawyer in Mis- souri, and the first delegate from the Territory in Congress. He lived twenty years in Missouri his first object on earth being that of building up the Presbyterian Church, of which he was forty-six years a member. LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. RECENTLY PUBLISHED, By Crocker & Brewster, BostonThe Library of Religious Knowledge, three vols. containing the travels of Tyerman and Bonnet in the South Seas, China, India, & c. Compiled by James Montgomery. First American edition, revised by an American editor. By Carter & Hendee, BostonThe Year, with other Poems, by the author of the Fall of the Indian. By Messrs. J. & J. Harper, New-York,Rox- obel, in three volumes, by Mrs. Sherwood The Club Book, being Original Tales, & c. By various authors. In two volumes. By Carey & Lea, Philadelphia. The Book of the Seasons, or the Calendar of Nature. By William Howitt, containing an original article upon the Natural appearances of every month. The Bravo, a tale, in two volumes. By the au- thor of the Spy, & c. Cabinet Library, No. 4, containing Memoirs of Sir Walter Ralegh, with some account of the period in which he lived. By Mrs. A. T. Thomson. By Gray & Bowen, Boston. The American Annual Register, for the year 1829-30, or the 54th of Americass Independence. By Stimpson & Clapp, Boston. A Memoir of the Life of Daniel Webster. By Samuel L. Knapp. A brief and impartial History of the Life and Actions of Andrew Jackson, Pres- ident of the United States. By a Free Man. By Lilly & Wait, Boston. The Library of Entertaining Knowledge, vol. ix. upon the Ar- chitecture of Birds. By William Hyde, Boston. The Childs Book of Geography. By S. R. Hall, embellish- ed with maps, cuts, & c. By J. K. Porter, New-York. A Popular Treatise on Health, and the means of preserv- ing it, or the Dyspeptics Pocket Companion. By tbe late Dr. Trumbull. I vol. l2mo.

Literary Intelligence Literary Intelligence 92

Literary Intelligence. declining health, about two years agosince when, he has been sinking to the tomb, under a general paralysis of both mind and body. In Knox county, Ten. Col. JOHN SAWYER, aged 86. This venerable man pitched his tent with his little family on the 12th of November, 1786, at the place on which he lived and died, and where his remains now lie interred. He was an active and efficient officer in the revolu- tionary war, and commanded a company at the memorable battle of Kings Mountain; an ac- tive and able soldier in the Indian skirmishes, in the first settlement of the country at the close of the svar. In early life he served as a mem- ber of the Legislature of Tennessee; for many years was a Justice of the Peace and it is not doing the deceased more than justice to say, that it is believed no man in the state of Ten- nessee ever did osore good within the range of his official labors. For thirty-five or forty years he was an exemplary Christian and member of the Presbyterian church. At his residence in Unionville, Geaguacounty Ohio, on the 8th ult. the Hon. SAMUEL WHEEL- ER, in the 39th year of his age. Mr. Wheeler was born at Harpersfield, Delaware county, and state of New-York, and removed to Ohio with his parents, in the year 1800. After completing his literary education, he studied the profession of the lasv, and soon distinguished himself at the bar, as a sound discriminating lawyer, and an able and powerful advocate. Endowed by nature with a vigorous intellect, and a heart of uncompromising integrity, he sought and lssr- sued his profession as a science until he reach- ed that honorable distinction in the administra- lion of justice, which is awarded only to emi- nent talents and moral worth. For many suc- cessive years he was a member of the Ohio General Assembly, and the two last years, was Speaker of the Senate. To his talents and in- fluence in that body, the state is much indebted forthe successful prosecution of her canals, and for that judicious legislation which first raised, and has continued to preserve her credit, among the capitalists of the nation. In New-Orleans, the venerable JOSEPH BEE- TOULIN, in the 80th year of his age. Mr. B. was a native of France, but for many years has been a resident of the United States, having, at an early age, embarked for this country with the French army, and continued in that service till the final recognition of American Inde- pendence. In St. Louis, Missouri, in October, Mr STE- PHEN HEMP5TEAO. He was born May 6, 1754, at New-London, Connecticut, of ancestors who emigrated from England previous to the revolu- tion of 1688. At the breaking out of the Amer- ican revolution, he joined the patriot cause with the greatest ardor, and was ~vith the first troops which rendezvoused at Boston, after the battle at Lexington. He was under arms at New-York, when the Declaration of Indepen- dence was read to the troops. In the same year, he was one of the Forlorn Hope in the fire- ships that attacked the British frigates in the North river. He was in the retreat from Long- Island, had a share in the action on Harlem Heights, and was there wounded by a grape shot. It was in that campaign that he was se- lected by the brave and unfortunate Capt. Hale, to accompany him as far as a companion could go in the adventurous attempt to examine the British camp on Long-Island, at the request of Washington. He went with him to Norwalk, fifty miles from New-York, received the depos- ite of his regimentals, and instructions when and where to look for him, if he escaped the perils of his dangerous undertaking. He did not escape; but was discovered and hung, dying as heroically as Andre did; but without the cir- cumltances which gave eclat to the British spy. After waiting the appointed time, Mr. Hemp- stead returned to the army, and closed his mili- tary career, and had well nigh closed Isis life at the murderous capture of Fort Trumbull, Here he was bayoneted in the fort, receiving many wounds, was put into a cart with the dead, and pushed down the hill to run into the river, as the easiest way of burial. A stump stopped the cart, and saved him from a wa~ery grave. In 1811 he emigrated to Missouri, at the instance of his son, the late Edward Hemp- stead, Esq,, then an eminent lawyer in Mis- souri, and the first delegate from the Territory in Congress. He lived twenty years in Missouri his first object on earth being that of building up the Presbyterian Church, of which he was forty-six years a member. LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. RECENTLY PUBLISHED, By Crocker & Brewster, BostonThe Library of Religious Knowledge, three vols. containing the travels of Tyerman and Bonnet in the South Seas, China, India, & c. Compiled by James Montgomery. First American edition, revised by an American editor. By Carter & Hendee, BostonThe Year, with other Poems, by the author of the Fall of the Indian. By Messrs. J. & J. Harper, New-York,Rox- obel, in three volumes, by Mrs. Sherwood The Club Book, being Original Tales, & c. By various authors. In two volumes. By Carey & Lea, Philadelphia. The Book of the Seasons, or the Calendar of Nature. By William Howitt, containing an original article upon the Natural appearances of every month. The Bravo, a tale, in two volumes. By the au- thor of the Spy, & c. Cabinet Library, No. 4, containing Memoirs of Sir Walter Ralegh, with some account of the period in which he lived. By Mrs. A. T. Thomson. By Gray & Bowen, Boston. The American Annual Register, for the year 1829-30, or the 54th of Americass Independence. By Stimpson & Clapp, Boston. A Memoir of the Life of Daniel Webster. By Samuel L. Knapp. A brief and impartial History of the Life and Actions of Andrew Jackson, Pres- ident of the United States. By a Free Man. By Lilly & Wait, Boston. The Library of Entertaining Knowledge, vol. ix. upon the Ar- chitecture of Birds. By William Hyde, Boston. The Childs Book of Geography. By S. R. Hall, embellish- ed with maps, cuts, & c. By J. K. Porter, New-York. A Popular Treatise on Health, and the means of preserv- ing it, or the Dyspeptics Pocket Companion. By tbe late Dr. Trumbull. I vol. l2mo.

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The New-England magazine. / Volume 2, Issue 2 New England magazine American monthly review American monthly magazine J. T. and E. Buckingham Boston February 1832 0002 002
Eloquence and Eloquent Men Original Papers 93-101

THE NEW-ENGLAND MAGAZINE. FEBRUARY, 1832. ORIGINAL PAPERS. ELOQUENCE AND ELOQUENT MEN. WHAT is Eloquence? Start not, gentle reader !for gentle you cer- tainly must be, to read the New-England Magazine ;start not at this interrogation, as if it were the precursor to a philological discussion upon derivation and definition. We intend not to annoy you with a grave and formal disquisition upon either; for gravity is very likely to be dull, and formality is always repulsive. If you are in search of the origin of the word which is the subject of our introductory question, just look into Dr. Websters Quarto Dictionary, where, we dare say, you will find a learned descantation that will satisfy you on this point; if you do not, it is a grievous omission, and we admonish the Doctor to remedy the defect in his next edition. If it is definition that you would have, please to consult Crabbes Synonymes; he will probably point out to you, in the clearest manner, the relationship subsisting be- tween Eloquence, Elocution, Declamation, Oratory, and Rhetoricshow you the faintest traces of identity among the numerous members of this family of words and things, and display in the breadth of a single line the remotest extremes of their difference. What is Eloquence? in what does it consist? We have heard ser- mons which we thought ineffably stupid and barren; hut, on reading them at our desk, we have found them full of Eloquence. We have heard sermons, too, which seemed almost divinely eloquent at the mo- ment of delivery; but, on reading some of their most brilliant and ef- fective sentences, transferred verbatim to paper, we found that their Eloquence had entirely evaporated in the process. It is clear, then, that this mysterious attribute does not consist, alone, in mere words, nor in the pronunciation of words and sentences; unless it be as subtle~as the odor of the Chinese musk-rat, and as evanescent as the beauty of the most short-lived of the family of the Cacti. Is action, or gesticulation, Eloquence? We hear of the Eloquence of tears, the Eloquence of groans, of dumb brutes, and of actors who speak with most miraculous organ. There is the Eloquence of music, too. Every body has read how Old Timotheus raised a mor~ VOL. ii. 13 94 Eloquence and Eloquent Men. tal to the skies, and how St. Cecilia drew an angel down; but perhaps all have not read Fletchers description of the Eloquence of the lyre of Orpheus, and its effect in the infernal regions. The pas- sage is worth quoting Thus Orpheus won his lost Euridice, Whom some deaf snake, that could no music hear, Or some blind newt, that conld no beauty see, Thinking to kiss, killed with his forked spear; He, when his plaints on earth were vainly spent, Down to Avernus river boldly went, And charmed the meagre ghosts with mournful blandishment. The amazed shades came flocking round about, Nor cared they now to pass the Stygian ford; All Hell came running there, (a hideous rout,) And dropped a silent tear for every word; The aged ferryman shoved out his boat; But that without his help did thither float, And, having taen him in, came dancing on the moat. The hungry Tantal might have filled him now, And with large draughts swilled in the standing pool; The fruit hung listening on the wondering bough, Forgetting Hells command; but he, (Ah, fool) Forgot his starved taste, his ears to fill; Ixions turning wheel unmoved stood still, But he was rapt as much with powerful musics skill. Tired Sysiphus sat on his resting stone, And hoped at length his labor done forever; The vulture, feeding on his pleasing moan, Glutted with music, scorned grown Tytius liver; The Furies flung their snaky whips away, And melt in tears at his enchanting lay; No shrieks now were heard; su~ HELL KEPT sPOLIOAY. That treble dog, whose voice, neer quiet, fears All that in endless nights sad kingdom dwell, Stood pricking up his thrice two listening ears, With greedy joy drinking the sacred spell; And softly whining pitied much his wrongs; And now first silent at those dainty songs, Oft wished himself more ears, and fewer moutha and tongues Purple Island, Canto V. Is not this poetry as eloquent as the music it describes? We have placed in emphatic characters a single sentence of four words, which in our humble apprehension, is more eloquent than the sublimated quintessence of four octavo volumes of some modern poetry. It is generally admitted that Eloquence is an acquirable art, and that an industrious study and a strict observance of certain rules, laid down by writers on rhetoric and elocution, will make a man eloq~uent; but we have some doubts of the truth of the proposition. Study~ and persevering practice may convert an awkward speaker into a graceful and agreeable and even a fascinating declaimer; but do elegant ges- ture and polite pronunciation constitute Eloquence? They are certain- ly desirable accomplishments~ and he Who has them may be called a good speaker; but is he, tkere~fore, eloquent? Has he the power to create, in an audience, emotions and passions, or will his graceful and polished declamation unlock the heart and let them out? Can a man be a good orator and, at the same time, be destitute of Eloquence? We think he can. Certainly one can be an excellent de- bater in a legislative or other public assembly, without a particle of that power to which we give the name of Eloquence. JOHN RANDOLPH of Roanoake is,-or has been,the best public speaker in all our country. Whoever has listened to him in the debates of Congress will neither deny the assertion nor call it extravagant; but we cannot think Eloquence and Eloquent Men. 95 Mr. Randolph can claim the character of an eloquent orator. Elo- quent, at times, he unquestionably has been; always interesting, even to his political opponents; and always amusing to friends and foes alike. He is a complete master of elocution. With the whole art, or science, of rhetoric, he is as familiar as he is with the alphabet. But his exhibitions of Eloquence have been rare few and far between 1, like flashes of lightning after long intervals of darkness. In his celebrated speech on Retrenchment, in 1828, his allusion to the~sun dipping his broad disk among the trees behind those Virginia hills, was indescribably beautiful; it was superlatively eloquent. His dir- est foe could not have heard it unmoved. In the printed report of this speech (though prepared by Mr. Randolph himself) justice is not done to the original expression. The public men of the South are, generally speaking, more liberally endowed with the talent, or gift, of public speaking than their northern cotemporaries; but we are not certain that they have more Eloquence. Mr. HAYNE, the Senator from South-Carolina, stands first and foremost, as an orator, among the present members of Congress from that region; and it must be admitted, in the face of northern prejudice, (perhaps we have no great reason to love Mr. Hayne;) that he is an admirable and eloquent speaker. We can say little of Mr. CALHOUN, the Vice-President, for he has laid himself on the shelf by taking a secondary office, when he should haves contended, manfully and perseveringly for the first. There was a time when he held the House of Representatives in his hand, and could carry almost any measure that he would, by the power of his rhetoric. Mr. MDUFFIE is altogether unlike Mr. Hayne. He is not fluent; he is not easy; he is not, of course, graceful; and, if we assume the dictionary definition of Eloquence, the art of speaking well, fluent and elegant speech, he is not eloquent. But Mr. MDuffie is eloquent. There is an Eloquence of the eye, which conveys its power in flashes to enforce and execute what the tongue hesitates to utter. There is Eloquence in his hesitation. His pauses, which are involuntary, never destroy the connection of his words, nor confuse the meaning of even his longest sentences. His gesticulation is not graceful. In fact, he uses but one gesture. His hand is raised nearly to a parallel with the ear, the palm and fingers opened to the widest extent; and when the words which seemed to be laboring in his chest have obtained egress, they are poured out, simultaneously with the descent of the hand upon the desk, with a force that is irresistible and sometimes appalling; reminding one of the meeting of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers, forming a junction and forcing a passage through the Blue Ridge. Some one in Congress humorously called this the slam bang style. But the hesitation or stammering often adds to the effect of the sentiment. We recollect an instance in which this effect was beyond description eloquent ;it was in a speech he made on the bill for the reliefof Mrs. Decatur, and the speaker was attempting to describe the battle in the harbor of Tripoli. The scene itself could have been hardly inferior, as it regards sublimity and the emotions produced on a spectator, than this description of it. Mr. JAMES HAMILTON, jun., the present governor of South-Carolina, is an orator of high standing. His manner is easy aiid graceful, and 96 Eloquence and Eloquent Men. his words are always fitly chosen,consequently, if there be truth in the proposition of Judabs ~vise preacher, they are like apples of gold in pictures of silver. Yet Mr. Hamilton looks better on paper than when he stands in person before you. We do not say why it is, but his speeches, even if reported but imperfectly, give a more agreeable sensation to the reader than to the spectator. The cause may be worth the inquiry of one who has taste and time for philosophical discussion. Mr. WIRT, the late Attorney General, is one of the firstperhaps the first,men in our country, as a graceful and fascinating advocate in the presence of a judicial tribunal; but we have never observed that he was uncommonly eloquent. Mr. WEBSTER is almost the antipodes of Mr. Wirt. He does not appear to have studied any rules of rheto- ric. His gracefulness of manner, if he have any, is, when compared with the glossy qualities of his great cotemporary, as the native uncul- tivated elegance of the forest oak to the artificial twistings of the sweet- brier around the pillars of a Doric portico, or the multifarious involu- tions of the honey-suckle guided through the interstices of a slender lattice-work. Mr. Webster is not a model for students in the arts of oratory and declamation; but he is eloquent beyond description. Who ever heard a more tremendous explosion of Eloquence, than some of the passages in his speech relative to the public lands, delivered in the Senate in 1830? Who can remember, without emotion his pathetic address to the veterans of half a century, and his apostrophe to the spirit of Warren, in his Bunker-Hill Oration? From what volume of Eloquence can we select a sublimer sentiment than we find in the closing paragraph of his Plymouth oration? We quote the passage Advance, then, ye future generations! We hail you, as you rise in long suc- cession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste the blessings of exist- ence, where we are passing and soon shall have passed our own human duration. We bid you welcome to this pleasant land of the fathers. We bid you welcome to the healthful skies and the verdant fields of New-England. We greet your accession to the great inheritance which we have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of good government and religious liberty. We welcome you to the treasures of science, and the delights of learning. We welcome you to the tran- scendent sweets of domestic life, to the happiness of kindred, and parents, and children. We welcome you to the immeasurable blessings of rational existence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and the light of everlasting truth! This is one of the most beautiful examples of that rhetorical figure which converts futurity to present time, that modern orators have produced, aad was no less touching in its effect on the audience than it is beautiful for its simplicity and pathos. There is an Eloquence in the physical agents of naturein the thunder, in the earthquake, in the windsthose viewless messengers of omnipotence. The Elo- quence of Mr. Webster is of this character. We feel its power, but the eye cannot perceive whence it cometh. When we said that he was the antipodes of Mr. Wirt, we did not mean to say that his gestures, when he speaks, are awkward or unnatural; on the contrary, they are pleasing because they are natural. But his style is evidently a style all his own. He is indebted for it to no written instructionto no living example. Mr. OTIS, the late Mayor of Boston, is an orator of the first class. As an extemporaneous speaker in a popular assembly, we know not where to find his parallel, unless it be in Mr. CLAY, significantly called Eloquence and Eloquent Men. 97 the Orator of the West. Mr. Otis has a more decided command of language than Mr. Clay, and is equally fluent (but less rapid) in enun- ciation. Nature has done every thing in her power to make him a fin- ished oratorshe gave him an elegant persona voice of silvery sweet- nessand organs every way adapted to unfold its varied tones and to develop its volume in every possible degree of modulation. Thousands can bear witness to the power of his Eloquence, so often displayed in Fanuiel-Hall in days gone by. His Eulogy on General Hamilton one of the few orations he has publishedis a model of good style in writing, but it was much less effective in delivery than many of his ex- tempore speeches, on subjects, in their nature much less adapted to ex- cite the feelings of a popular audience. There is another gentleman, less known in this part of the United States than any of those already mentioned, who is, nevertheless, entitled to one of the upper seats in the Oratorical Synagogue. Those who recognize the gentleman to whom we allude, only as a quiet attend- ant upon the Supreme Court, one apparently indifferent to the proceed- ings, his face deeply lined as by care and anxiety,.-the record of many an hour of busy thought,in person below the common standard, and entirely without the bearing of one who commands the attention of multitudes, will think we peril our judgement in calling Mr. WALTER JONES an eloquent man. That he is not more generally known, how- ever, and that, with those who have merely seen him, he passes for considerably less than his real value, is neither our fault nor his own. He belongs to the Court, and not to the Senate. He makes arguments and not speeches. He belongs to the law and not to a party. He should be, and as a public man he is, as far removed from our puny politics, as equity is from chicanery. He depends less than almost any speaker at the seat of government upon his manner. He is not a de- claimer. He deals but sparingly in figures; more in thoughts than in words; but he says all there is to be said about his case, and although you are satisfied before he concludes, yet there is no part of the perfect whole with which you would dispense. He can build up awl fortify the fabric, and his colleague may then ornament it. He neither looks, nor speaks, nor acts, like an orator. He is not one, according to any commonly received rules. But he is, notwithstandiug, a very eloquent speaker. The best evidence of his power, perhaps, is the inability of the hearer to decide upon the character of his Eloquence, to define it, analyze it, or classify it. The effect of his Eloquence is equally per- sonal. It addresses men destitute of passions; it makes no demand upon involuntary tears; it causes no half-uttered ejaculations of de- tight and sympathy; it does not raise men from their seats. It is a plain tale, in the plainest language. It is enough for the hearer that he is convinced. We have succeeded but imperfectly in describing what his Eloquence is not, and what it does not depend upon; if re- quired to describe Mr. Jones in one word, we should say, he is a business speaker; the professor of a style of Workingmans Eloquence. He asks nothing but attention; he gives, as an equivalent, an indelible impression of his own views. In requital for a leisure hour, he fur- nishes a portion of his solid intellect. Difficult as it may be to discern the why or wherefore, the hearer is satisfied that he has listened to no ordinary man. 98 Eloquence and Eloquent Men. All this relates to Mr. Jones at the bar of the Supreme Court,the most dignified, and, to tender juveniles, the most appalling legal tribunal in the world. He is, however, distinguished as a jury lawyer, and eminently successful. The only illegal occasions~so to speak upon which we have heard him, have been the annual meetings of the American Colonization Society. They are merely meetings of debate and resolutions; where warm appeals are made to the charity of the audience, but n~ contribution is levied; and where unanswerable calls upon their sympathy do not find the usual, (and, for the Society, profita- ble,) vent; consequently the meetings are numerously attended. The cause is popular, the meeting in the breathing time of day, and gen- erally held in the chamber of the House of Representatives; conse- quently they are fashionably attended. From one of these meetings, holding out the double inducement of charity in the cause, and beauty in the audience, where the ablest speakers, both in and out of Con~ gress, headed by Mr. Clay himself, have dwelt upon the merits of this Society, we have carried more of the remarks of Mr. Jones than of all his oratorical competitors. Could we require any other evidence that he held both heart and intellect in his power, and breathed upon them spells of divine Eloquence? Mr. E. EVERETT stands preeminent as a public speaker. We know not how to describe him but by a quotation from Ben Jonson. His hearers cannot cough nor look aside without loss. The fear of every man that hears him is, lest he should make an end. Our neighbors at New-York, who were so fortunate as to hear his late address to the 4merican Institute, will not think this praise an exaggeration; and the thousands who did not hear it, owing to the impossibility of gaining admittance to the church where it was delivered, will receive their testimony as corroborative of our affirmation. Mr. Everett has com- posed and delivered more addresses for public occasions than any man in the United States; and he has done them well. From the fact of his having been a preacher in the early part of his lifewe had almost said, in his boyhoodit was supposed by many, when he first went into Congress, that he would be unable to enter into the incidental debates, from incompetency to speak without previous preparation. Events have proved the folly and injustice of this presumption. Mr. Everett can not only write a better and a larger book on a given sub- ject in a given time, than any of his cotemporaries, but he can talk better than most of them at a moments notice. His varied and exten- sive acquirements he can apply most skilfully, where their fitness is peculiar and their adaptation exact. If Mr. Everett had been an uneducated man he would still have been eloquent; he was an orator by nature; study and taste have given him unrivaled eminence. The love of the pursuit beguiled all the labor of it. His speeches in Congress, if we had time to examine them, would afford numerous illustrations of the power of his Eloquence. If we desired to make a selection of lessons in declamation for the use of colleges and schools, that should furnish models of taste, purity, and elegance, we would ask no other source from whence to derive the materials than the file of his sermons, written before he was twenty-five years of age. Speaking of sermons reminds us that we must say a word or two of our pulpit orators. We did not intend, at the commencement of these Eloquence and Eloquent Men. 99 desultory thoughts, to make any allusions to the dead; but, since the clerical profession now boasts of few or none, standing remotely in front of its ranks of tolerable preachers, we cannot refrain from intro. ducing the name of the Rev. HORACE HoLLEYa sun in the firmament of pulpit Eloquence, at whose appearance all the constellations pass away and make no noise. It will probably be a century before the United States will see another preacher of a tithe of his power. The man, who, of all others that we have seen, approaches nearest to our beau ideal, of an evangelical orator, is the Rev. Mr. RYLAND, who was chaplain to the House of Representatives a few years ago, and, we believe, now preaches to a Methodist congregation in Washington. The President of Williams College, the Rev. Dr. GRIFFIN, has been called an eloquent preacher; and we have ourselves been once or twice deluded into an acquiescence in the popular belief; but the delusion has been only momentary; for we never could retain any of the impressions made by his high-sounding words and pompously solemn utterance, after the sound of his voice had died away. As to the liberal clergy, their style of speaking is, usually, cold and unattractive. This fault. has been attributed by sectarian opponents to the doctrines they preach, which, say these opponents, are without heat or life, and impart no warmth or animation to their professors. We cannot subscribe to such a declaration, but would attribute the effect to quite another causea belief that the good sense of their hearers requires no arti- ficial excitement, and an aversion to every thing that approaches to- wards a ranting and bombastic style. But this class Qf preachers are not all such icicles as they are sometimes represented. Dr. CIIANNING is universally admitted, both in Europe and America, to be an eloquent man, and the multitude in this case have not decided without feeling. Dr. LOWELL, according to our notions, is quite as eloquent, in manner, to say the least, as his reverend cotemporary last mentioned. In one respect he is superior; he has a way of uttering very common things-- an oft-repeated quotation from the scriptures, for instance,with won-~ derful effect upon an audience; a way which is peculiarly and exclu- sively his own. There are others, whom we could mention, eloquent in thoughts, in expression, and in delivery, who have not so large a share of popularity as they deserve, and others whose credit would vanish before a critical examination of its basis; but the clergy are a sensitive tribe, and might not be pleased to know what even we might say of their comparative and relative merits; they are somewhat irritable, also, notwithstanding the precept and the example of their immortal prototype, and we might become the objects of a spiritual anathema if not obnoxious to a bull of excommunication. Policy, therefore, enjoins the virtue of forbearance. A word or two to the colleges and universities. It is but recently that they have given much attention to the subject of Eloquence, or elocution, as a science to be taught. But the day is coming, and even now is, when a different course must be adopted. A taste for polite literature and the fine arts is becoming too general among the popula- tion of the country to allow the colleges to send forth their annual hosts of graduates for the pulpit and the forum, untaught in the most important accomplishment of a public man, without severe rebuke. Yale has already done something for improvement in the art of speak- 100 Eloquence and Eloquent Men. ing; and Harvard,good old dull and sleepy matron,is just awak- ing, and rubbing her eyes, and perceives the necessity of doing a little to stop the public clamor, and shield her alumni from the reproaches of common school-boys. To assist her in the progress of this contem- plated improvement we quote from Dr. Knoxs Treatise on Liberal Ed- ucation, the subjoined extract from a work written near three hundred years ago. It will be a curiosity to readers in general, and will serve as a mirror to Harvard University. The tongue or voyce is praise-worthie, if the utteraunce be audible, strong, and easie, and apt to order as we list. Therefore, they that minde to get praise in telling their minde in open audience, must, at the first beginning, speake some- what sofilie, use meete pausing, and beeying somewhnt heated, rise with their voyce, as tyme and cause shall best require. They that have no good voyces by nature, or cannot well utter their wordes, must seek for help elsewhere. Exer- cise of the bodie, fastyng, moderation in meate and drinke, gaping wide, or sing- yn~plairie song, and counterfeyting those that doe speake distinctly, helpe much good deliveraunce. Demosthenes beying not able to pronounce the first Jetter of that arte whiche he professed, but would saie for Rhetorike, Letolike, used to put little stones under his tongue, and so pronounced, whereby he speake at length so plainly, as any man in the world could doe. Musicians in England have used to put ga~ges. in childrens mouthes, that they might pronounce dis- tinctly; but now with the losse and lacke of musick, the love also is gone of bringing up children to speak plainly. Some there bee that either naturally, or through folly have such evill voyces, and such lacke of utteraunce, and suche~evill gesture, that it muche defaceth all their doynges. One pipes out his wordes so small, through defaulte of his winde pipe, that ye would thinke he whistled. An other is hoarse in his throte. An other speakes as though he had plummes in his mouth. An other speakes in his throte, as though a good ale crumme stuck fast. An other rattles his wordes. An other choppes ~his words. An other speakes, as though his wordes had neede to he heaved out with leavers. An other speakes, as though his wordes should be weighed in a ballance. An other gape s to fetch wind at every thirde woorde. This manne barkes out his Englishe North- ern like, with I sale, and thou lad. An other speakes so finely, as though he were brought up in a ladies chamber. As I knewe a priest that was as nice as a nunnes henne, when he would saie masse, he would never saie Dominus vobiscum, but Dominus vobicum. Some blowe at their nostrilles. Some sighes out their woordes. Some singes their sentences. Some laughes altogether, when they speake to any bodie, Some gruntes like a hogge. Some cackles like a henne, or a jackedawe. Some ~peakes as though they should tell in their sleeve. Some cries out so loude, that they would make a mans ears ake to heare them. Some coughes at every worde. Some hemmes it out. Some spittes fire, they talk so hottely. Some make a wrie mouth, and so they wrest out their wordes. Some whines like a pigge. some suppes their words up, as a poore man doth his por- age. Some noddes their hed at every sentence. An other winks with one eye, and some with both. This man frouneth alwaies when he speakes. An other lookes ever as though he were madde. Some cannot speake but they must goe up and doune, or at the least be styrryng their feete, as though they stood in a cokerying boate. An other will plale with his cappe in his hand, and so tell his tale. Some, when they speake in a great companie, will looke all one waie. Some pores upon the ground as though they sought for pinnes. Some swelles in the face and filles their cheekes full of winds, as though they would blowe out their wordes. Some settes forthe their lippes two inches good beyonde their teethe. Some talkes as though their tongue went of pattines. Some shews all their teeth. Some speakes in their teeth altogether. Some lettes their wordes fall in their lippes, scant opening them when they speake. There are a thousand such faultes among men, bothe for their speeche, and also for their gesture, the which if in their young yeres they be not remedied, they will hardly bee forgott when they come to mans state. WiLsoNs ARTE OF RHETORSQUE. Gentle Reader! we close as we began. What is Eloquence? If you can gather and surmise our undefinable notion of it, from the illustrations we have presented, our object will have been accomplished. 101 OUR BIRDS. A TALK IN THE WAY OF ORNITHOLOGY. PART III. Now launch the boat upon the wave ; valete sylva3 ;in plain English, look out for sea-fowl. The mighty ocean, the dark illimit.. able ocean, offers us its rolling billow and dashing surf:, peopled with a thousand winged inhabitants. The rocky cliffs and wide-spread wastes of sand, where the stormy waters run battling in their strength, and the driving breath of the tempest sears all to barrennessthese have their dwellers and visitants. The beach and the billow are alive with a feathered multitude. The voice of many waters cannot drown the joyous cry of the sea-bird, as he dashes, half flying, half swimming, through the foamy crest of the wave, or sports with his brethren upon the back of the long and ridgy sand-bar, with the white breakers sparkling around him. The broad bay offers its bosom to a hundred tribes of fleeting visiters; the marsh and the fen; the sedgy pool and grassy rivers brink, are the home of many a class, who find a congenial dwelling and plenteous food in spots untenanted by man. Nature, with liberal hand, has dispensed to them, too, of her bounties, and guided each species by its proper instinct to partake of the abundance of the streams, and the fat things of the sea and sand. Well, good reader, as you must by this time be in a concatenation accordingly, we will go on with our birds eggingYankee phrase, that ;and whom shall we first call into court? Why none other, of course, deserves that honor, but our reverend cousin and old crony, the WILD GoosE, unclaimed of any man, in his individual capacity, but a native citizen of our continent; now and then straying by acci- dent, or driven by storm, to the shore of Northern Europe, where, of course, he is held a rara avis. He is exclusively an American bird, Shakspeares wild goose being another guess sort of a thing! When the populous North pours from her frozen loins the myriads of winged guests who seek their summer residence in the unexplored recesses of the polar regions, and the cloudy skies of the late autumn warn them to speed to a more genial clime, then are our shores visited by innume- rable flights of the wild geese on their passage to the South. In No- vember, as the changing condition of the air indicates the coming blasts of winter; and when a week or two of fair weather and westerly wind, is succeeded by a cold, cloudy, northeasterly turn, you may be sure of being awakened in the morning by the well known cronk, cronk, cronk, overhead, and to see the long files of your old acquaint- ance streaming away across the sky, each battalion with a veteran gan- der at the head, marshaling and mana~uvring his flying squad accord- ing to the regular system of goosarian tactics, namely, in double echelon, each able-bodied goose covering half his file leader; and, to do the creatures justice, I must confess that I have seen them perform evolu- tions not to be paralleled by any troops that I am acquainted with, except the Massachusetts militia. Never shall I forget the delightful sensations, with which the coming of the wild geese inspired me when a boy. On the first mention of VOL. II. 14

Our Birds. A Talk in the Way of Ornithology Original Papers 101-107

101 OUR BIRDS. A TALK IN THE WAY OF ORNITHOLOGY. PART III. Now launch the boat upon the wave ; valete sylva3 ;in plain English, look out for sea-fowl. The mighty ocean, the dark illimit.. able ocean, offers us its rolling billow and dashing surf:, peopled with a thousand winged inhabitants. The rocky cliffs and wide-spread wastes of sand, where the stormy waters run battling in their strength, and the driving breath of the tempest sears all to barrennessthese have their dwellers and visitants. The beach and the billow are alive with a feathered multitude. The voice of many waters cannot drown the joyous cry of the sea-bird, as he dashes, half flying, half swimming, through the foamy crest of the wave, or sports with his brethren upon the back of the long and ridgy sand-bar, with the white breakers sparkling around him. The broad bay offers its bosom to a hundred tribes of fleeting visiters; the marsh and the fen; the sedgy pool and grassy rivers brink, are the home of many a class, who find a congenial dwelling and plenteous food in spots untenanted by man. Nature, with liberal hand, has dispensed to them, too, of her bounties, and guided each species by its proper instinct to partake of the abundance of the streams, and the fat things of the sea and sand. Well, good reader, as you must by this time be in a concatenation accordingly, we will go on with our birds eggingYankee phrase, that ;and whom shall we first call into court? Why none other, of course, deserves that honor, but our reverend cousin and old crony, the WILD GoosE, unclaimed of any man, in his individual capacity, but a native citizen of our continent; now and then straying by acci- dent, or driven by storm, to the shore of Northern Europe, where, of course, he is held a rara avis. He is exclusively an American bird, Shakspeares wild goose being another guess sort of a thing! When the populous North pours from her frozen loins the myriads of winged guests who seek their summer residence in the unexplored recesses of the polar regions, and the cloudy skies of the late autumn warn them to speed to a more genial clime, then are our shores visited by innume- rable flights of the wild geese on their passage to the South. In No- vember, as the changing condition of the air indicates the coming blasts of winter; and when a week or two of fair weather and westerly wind, is succeeded by a cold, cloudy, northeasterly turn, you may be sure of being awakened in the morning by the well known cronk, cronk, cronk, overhead, and to see the long files of your old acquaint- ance streaming away across the sky, each battalion with a veteran gan- der at the head, marshaling and mana~uvring his flying squad accord- ing to the regular system of goosarian tactics, namely, in double echelon, each able-bodied goose covering half his file leader; and, to do the creatures justice, I must confess that I have seen them perform evolu- tions not to be paralleled by any troops that I am acquainted with, except the Massachusetts militia. Never shall I forget the delightful sensations, with which the coming of the wild geese inspired me when a boy. On the first mention of VOL. II. 14 1O~2 Our Birds. their arrival, every musket and fowling piece of the neighborhood is put in commission to greet their approach. Every house-top is manned by some eager sportsman, gun in hand, waiting with impatience for the well known cry. At length the far-off report of a musket is heard, and then cronk, cronk, and they re coming, they re coming! vo- ciferated from a hundred throats. Now they heave in sight, warping on the eastern wind, a dozen regiments, an hundred strong each; and then begins a general cracking of musketry; the winged vanguard sweep off to the right, but our infantry pour in a heavy fire from that quarter, and drive them back. Now they countermarch to the left, but bangs the word, too, that way ; they wheel back to the centre, under a running fire, for now begins warm work. But stopdo nt be a goose yourself, and throw away your fire ; wait till they have so far come up that you can take them in flank or rear, for to fire at geese when they are heading right on toward you is, for all the world, a thing of nought. Their coat of feathers is suf- ficiently thick to turn the shot when it strikes them in front, where each feather overlapping the other, receives the lead in a lateral direction, and causes it to slip by without effect. So, unless you are positively sure of shooting straight down their throats, you will find all the pep- pering you can bestow upon them in the face will do about as much execution as Doctor Slops volley of small curses, or Uncle Tobys comparison of the same sparrow shot fired against a bastion. We will let those ninnies yonder bang away till they have driven them a sufficiently roundabout course to invite us to the charge in good ear- nest. Ah! they begin to zig-zag it a little ;now they wheel and ter- giversate, and the whole main body comes upon their rear, crowding onward in glorious confusion! Now we blaze away right and left; the battle grows hotter and hotter; t~vo or three drop; others lag behind, winged and straggling. The whole army of geese are now squalling most desperately with all the strength of their lungs, for they find they have got into an awkward scrape. Presently an old gander falls ; no, he rises again,he flutters,two or three shot have struck him about the head and shoulders; but he is no chicken; a veteran of three score and ten campaigns does not mind a scratch. Shot after shot rattles away at him, till at last down he comes with twenty inor- tal murders on his crown. Straightway the whole flock are in confu- sion and scatter pell-mell in all directions; and now in the midst of all this hurry skurry is the time to see what execution we will do. The fragments of the routed army fly up and down, hither and thither, round and round; at every shot one or two fall, but they still keep hovering low,what more could you expect of a goose ?and, finally, we so thin their ranks, that only some half dozen stragglers save them- selves by fairly blundering out of harms way, and scramble off to the nearest flock, in such a prodigious fright and bouleversement of their intellects, that it is to be feared the unfortunate animals will not get the better of it for the rest of their lives. Notwithstanding all the hair-breadth scapes they encounter in their migrations, yet they continue to pass the same route year after year. Their favorite direction is along the sea-coast, and they occasionally stop to feed or rest upon the marshy spots near the shore; but their stay is very short. Cloudy weather they always prefer; hut when the Our Birds. 103 clouds fly low, I have known the geese to lose their way by flying into them; upon which occasions they would set up a squalling that made the welkin ring again. A more serious disaster befel an army of them about Newburyport, many years ago. A heavy snow storm happened in wild goose time; it came on suddenly, and the wayfarers were overtaken in transitu before they could snuff its approach. The snow fell thick and damp, and, taking the geese upon the wing, it so clogged their feathers that their flight was stopped, and they were snowed down to the ground in flocks. On Plum Island, at the mouth of the Merri- mac, they were pulled by dozens out of the snow banks, alive and kicking! In what queer corner of the northern regions they nestle in summer, we shall never know. There are no accounts of the extent of their journey that way, which can be relied upon; but many are the mar- velous tales I have listened to from the Labrador fishermen,those incorrigible yarn-spinners,about the rocky shores of the North, covered with birds eggs so thickly, that not a step could be taken without treading upon them. But that is neither here nor there; the wild geese go much farther toward the pole than any ship has hitherto been able to penetrate. Food must exist abundantly in that quarter, and in a manner altogether unknown to us. Some species of birds feed with particular relish upon the catkins of the birch, a tree which abounds in the polar regions, and which indeed grows farther north than any other native of the forest. Another of our regular visiters from the North is the EIDER DUCK, which furnishes the fine down that is so valuable an article of com- merce. On our coast this bird is commonly known by the name of the SEA DRAKE. There are seldom any great numbers of them seen in these parts, but there is no year in which, at the season, more or less of them are not brought to the Boston market. The beautiful plumage in which it is clad, a contrast of deep black and snowy white on the outside, covering the soft bluish feathers underneath which compose the down, causes this bird to be little less esteemed for its elegance than for its usefulness, and many are bought to stuff and preserve for ornament. The female, however, is far less striking in external ap- pearance, than the male; she being of a uniform reddish brown plu- mage. They breed in Iceland, Greenland and the parts thereabout, making their nest among sticks and stones; the ducks pluck the down from their breasts to make a bed for the eggs and young. The Ice- landers plunder the nests of the down, and the ducks strip themselves a second time. Again the down is stolen, and again Mrs. Duck must off with her lendings, till, in the end, she finds herself plucked as clean and close in front, as any client ever went away from Court~ street. Gaffer Drake now comes to the scratch, and offers to slash his jacket for litter; thus, by hook and by crook, the pair succeed in raising a brood, at the cost of their feathers. All the eider down brought from Iceland is obtained in this manner; the natives refrain from killing the birds, which, in consequence, become so tame, as to nestle about their houses. In their passage through this part of the United States, they seldom fly any distance inland, but keep close to the sea, lingering in spots here and there along the coast to feed upon the shell-fish, which, 104 Our Birds. here at least, appear to constitute their only food. Upon the Isles of Shoals they may be sure to be found every season. This little cluster of islands lies about a dozen miles out at sea, between Portsmouth and Newburyport. They are mere heaps of rocks and sand, with hardly a green sod upon them, and are tenanted by a race of strapping, long- sided barbarians, who seem to have sprung out of the bosom of the crags which they inhabit. A generation of men, who have swallowed more hard northwesters, or stood more buffeting from the rough waves, are not to be found upon the rugged shores of New-England. Their constant occupation isto draw, from the surrounding deep, the suste- nance which their inhospitable soil has denied them; and they are all day tossing about in their cockle-shell boats, bits of wherries, miles out in the wide ocean, when the sea is brewing like barm wi yes- treen s wind, caring for wave or tempest no more than their fellow citizens, the porpoise and seal, and richly rewarded for their toils if they can return to their barren shores with a few codfish. These oxless isles did, nevertheless, in ancient time, maintain two cows, the property of an old woman of ninety,the Shoalers never die,who supported them in winter upon the hay she mowed with a case-knife, three blades of grass at a time,among the rocks. A British ship of war carried off these cows at the beginning of the revolution, the first and last of their kind in this little world. Upon these islands the Eider Ducks make their regular sojourn every season, and may be seen straying about the coves and inlets, in company with hundreds of other sea-fowl which make these shores their home. Possibly they mistake the natives here, for their old friends, the Esquimaux, to whom, indeed, they bear a very strong resemblance. The spot is a favorable one for their resort; the islands being mostly uninhabited, and lying too far out at sea for the visits of sportsmen. The natives shoot one or two occasionally, but as they are not much addicted to the use of fire arms, the birds live comparatively un- molested. But we must not dismiss our chapter of ducks, without mentioning that prince of all the tribe, the American WOOD DUCK, although it does not strictly come within the class of sea-fowl. This in4ividual, called also the Summer Duck, is the most beautiful bird of its kind in the world, displaying a plumage diversified with rici~ tints of golden glossy green and dark red, intermixed with various dark and light shades; a plume of long feathers adorns its head, falling gracefully back on the top of the neck. This singular crest was fancifully compared by Linna~us, to the wedding head-dress of the Swedish peasant women, from which suggestion he gave this bird the name of ~ponsa, or the bride. These brilliant colors, it must be remarked, are confined to the male alone. The wood ducks are not to be found upon the sea shore, but live about the streams and lakes of the interior. At Fresh Pond, Horn Pond, and many other of those beautiful sheets of water around Boston, they may be found all summer long. Their favorite places for nestling are in the hollow trunks of old trees. They are most expert climbers, and, unlike all other web-footed fowl, are as well fitted for perching as for paddling, having long sharp claws at their toes. They are sometimes caught by the country people and tamed; they are not at all difficult of domestication. Our Birds. 105 As to the common WILD DUCK, COOT, TEAL, BRANT, et idgenus omne, great would be my delectation, gentle reader, to discourse to you anent all and singular of the foregoing, gun in hand, upon Cohasset Rocks or the marshes of Plum Island, where much practical example might verify the matters which I attempt to shadow forth by dint of prosing. These birds stay very late in the season, but the best time for them is about the middle of autumn; the Coot lingers somewhat later than the rest. Toward the south end of Nantasket beach they are abund- ant, and the craggy isolated rocks, scattered along the shore in that quarter, are good stations for the sportsmen to bring them down as they skim along at a little distance from the land; for these birds are shy and in common cases only to be taken on the wing, although by good luck you may at times surprise them dabbling in some shallow pool near the shore, among the weeds and salt grass. But the best subject to which I can refer you, in order to try your hand at a quick shot, is the DIPPER, who has the most notable alacrity in sinking of all the feathered tribe. Along the sea beach a few rods from the shore, you may behold, peradventure, some fifteen or twenty of them in a bunch, bobbing up and down with the waves, and totally regardless of the land. Dead for a ducat is your exclamation in petto; because, forsooth, you have them within point blank shot; of course they are within reach; of course they cannot fly away quick enough to escape; of course you hit them; of course you kill theuthus, in the plenitude of your wisdom, you reason with all logical precision, and nobody denies 0it to be a clear case. Slowly, cautiously, and with a coolness and de- liberation that do you infinite credit, you drop on one knee, and accom- plish a most capital take aim ! Crack !but bless us! who would have thought it? with the first flash of the pan they are darting fathoms deep under the water, and by the time the noble echo of your musketry has died away along the shore, you have the immense satisfaction of see- ing their black noddles come popping above the surface, something less than a mile off. Whether you look passing wise, or prodigiously silly, on such an occasion, I will not pronounce, not being metaphysical; but I dare assert you will abstain from all supererogatory use of pow- der and shot when you meet your old friends in future. To despatch one of these birds is no easy matter, although it must be confessed it was no lucky day for the Dippers when percussion locks were invented. Most of the fowl above mentioned may, by expert gunners, be ap- proached while swimming upon the rivers and inlets near the sea. For this purpose, a small skiW, built expressly for the purpose, is chosen, and manned by a single individual, who propels his boat by the practice of scuiing, as any dashing of the water with a paddle would inevitably give the alarm. On the broad river or sound, extend- ing from the harbor of Newburyport to Ipswich, are vast numbers of sea-fowl that are pursued by the gunners in this way. In winter the skiffs are painted white, to resemble cakes of drift ice, and at other times they are dressed fore and aft on the outside with eel-grass and sea-weed, by which they are mistaken for floating patches of weeds. Under this (lisguise an experienced gunner has little difficulty in mak- ing his way into the midst of numerous flocks as they stray along the marshy shores, and pouring in slaughter among their ranks. There 106 Our Birds. are few spots more favorable to the sportsman along our coast, than these waters. Plum Island, which forms the shore of this sound on one side, is about a dozen miles in length, and has all the wildness of an Arabian desert, with a great deal that is highly singular and picturesque. The great mass of the island is a heap of yellowish white sand, furrowed and piled into hills of a thousand fantastic shapes, like immense snow drifts. The summits of these ridges are crested with low plum bushes, grape vines, and wild cherry trees of stinted growth. Deep hollows run in all directions among the hills, and their smooth bright sides, often of a nearly perpendicular steepness, reflect the rays of a summer sun with such intensity that the traveler feels his cheeks scorch and his eyes ache with the fiery glow. Yet, on climbing to the brow of an eminence, he is speedily relieved by the fresh breath of the ocean, whose waters break in long lines of surf upon a smooth sandy beach. The scenery here is strikingly contrasted with every thing in the neigh- boring country; the wild aspect of the soil, the vegetation, scattered over the hot sand, the sound of the mighty waters rushing with a hol- low roar against the foundations of the land at your feet. The ocean spreads illimitably in your front, its dark bosom spotted with white sails. The rocky promontory ofUape Ann is seen stretching into the sea to the south, while, in the opposite quarter, the blue peak of Mount Agamen- ticus lifts its lofty head, and dimly marks the utmost bound of the horizon. The northern extremity of the island meets the current of the Mer- ?imac, as it passes out of the harbor of Newburyport. The sand in this spot has barred the mouth of the stream and formed dangerous breakers around it, that have been the destruction of many a gallant ship. With the breeze off shore, the passage of these shoals is not attended with hazard. But when an easterly wind blows, a heavy sea rolls in, which, meeting the strong outward current of the river at its mouth, breaks upon the bar in a manner truly terrific, and with a thundering roar that may be heard miles up the stream. The immense flocks of GULLS, that hover over the waves, or spread in long files up and down the beach, when the tide is out, are objects too common to excite attention. But it is remarkable, that, on the first signs of a storm, they put immediately to sea. In fine weather they ascend in numbers a considerable distance up the river; but whenever it begins to snuffle from the east, and dark clouds portend trouble over the waters, they will be seen hurrying down to the shore and beating in the face of the wind over the blackening waves away from the land. Like the storm-tossed mariner, they desire good sea- room; and it is probably one of their chief delights to buffet the angry blasts of the ocean, and brood over the tossing deep in its fiercest agi- tations. At low water they cover the flats in vast numbers, in search of shell-fish. They are expert at digging clams, and no less handy in getting jid of the shell. Having scratched a clam out of the sand, the gull flies aloft with it in his claws and drops it from a high elevation upon the rocks, where it is dashed to pieces, when he alights and de- vours it at leisure. Where there are large flocks of them fishing about a rocky shore, you may see it literally raining clams by the hour College Honors. 107 together. The swine, which are kept on the coast, and have a special relish for the feast of shells, understand this habit of the gulls, and turn it to good account, by pursuing them along the shore, watching the falling prey, and gobbling it up before the bird in his clumsy flight can stoop to seize it. There are often such scramblings among hungry herds of them as would do honor to a troop of the most expert politi- cal trimmers at a change of administration. Fain would I, gentle reader, do befitting honor to a host of worthies that remain upon our grand muster-roll of flying things and fowls of the sea. I might single out as worthy of your admiration the FIsH- HAWK, whom, by a good take-heed, you may now and then espy flying over the chimney-tops of the town, his talons burthened with a mack- erel or pohagin which he has snapped up from the water; also the GREAT TERN, a constant dweller upon the sea; the OLDWIFE, a noto- rious dabbler in the water, shy of approach, and tough against a shot; and eke the LooN, with limb for rectilineal straightness famed; though wherefore a Loons leg should be esteemed straighter than the shanks of any other straddling thing, is more than I can divine. iPIem. to consult Dr. Dryasdust upon this point. COLLEGE HONORS. I OBJECT to the system of emulation, which is enforced in most of our literary institutions. It does not increase habits of industry; it is a fertile source of ill feelings% jealousies and animosities ; it creates a burning thirst for present distinction, and unfits the mind for great un- dertakings; it fosters an inordinate ambition to seem great; it is un- equal and unjust in its operation. It does not encourage industrious habits. Perhaps a few, who find themselves able to take a front stand in the ranks are encouraged to make greater efforts, and to be more persevering in their exertions. But are colleges established, and their rules adopted, solely with refer- enne to a few of the more talented, who may resort to them? Or are they established for the purpose of giving, to as many as possible, a sound and useful education; for the purpose of sending out annually as large a number as possible of young men, whose minds have been so disciplined, and their moral habits so formed, as to make them truly valuable members of the community? They are, indeed, intended as schools for those, who are to dazzle the world by the splendor of their genius. in them, the luxuriance of youthful talent is to be pur- sued, its energies to be called forth, and its first efforts to be encour- aged, cherished and directed. But colleges were not founded for this purpose alone. They also have reference to a much more numerous class of men of moderate abilities, who are to have a more direct and important influence upon the minds and happiness of the people. Of these, are the lawyers, who secure their neighbors in the quiet posses- sion of their rights; the teachers, who form the habits and mature the faculties of the youthful mind; the physicians, who disarm disease of

H. H. College Honors Original Papers 107-112

College Honors. 107 together. The swine, which are kept on the coast, and have a special relish for the feast of shells, understand this habit of the gulls, and turn it to good account, by pursuing them along the shore, watching the falling prey, and gobbling it up before the bird in his clumsy flight can stoop to seize it. There are often such scramblings among hungry herds of them as would do honor to a troop of the most expert politi- cal trimmers at a change of administration. Fain would I, gentle reader, do befitting honor to a host of worthies that remain upon our grand muster-roll of flying things and fowls of the sea. I might single out as worthy of your admiration the FIsH- HAWK, whom, by a good take-heed, you may now and then espy flying over the chimney-tops of the town, his talons burthened with a mack- erel or pohagin which he has snapped up from the water; also the GREAT TERN, a constant dweller upon the sea; the OLDWIFE, a noto- rious dabbler in the water, shy of approach, and tough against a shot; and eke the LooN, with limb for rectilineal straightness famed; though wherefore a Loons leg should be esteemed straighter than the shanks of any other straddling thing, is more than I can divine. iPIem. to consult Dr. Dryasdust upon this point. COLLEGE HONORS. I OBJECT to the system of emulation, which is enforced in most of our literary institutions. It does not increase habits of industry; it is a fertile source of ill feelings% jealousies and animosities ; it creates a burning thirst for present distinction, and unfits the mind for great un- dertakings; it fosters an inordinate ambition to seem great; it is un- equal and unjust in its operation. It does not encourage industrious habits. Perhaps a few, who find themselves able to take a front stand in the ranks are encouraged to make greater efforts, and to be more persevering in their exertions. But are colleges established, and their rules adopted, solely with refer- enne to a few of the more talented, who may resort to them? Or are they established for the purpose of giving, to as many as possible, a sound and useful education; for the purpose of sending out annually as large a number as possible of young men, whose minds have been so disciplined, and their moral habits so formed, as to make them truly valuable members of the community? They are, indeed, intended as schools for those, who are to dazzle the world by the splendor of their genius. in them, the luxuriance of youthful talent is to be pur- sued, its energies to be called forth, and its first efforts to be encour- aged, cherished and directed. But colleges were not founded for this purpose alone. They also have reference to a much more numerous class of men of moderate abilities, who are to have a more direct and important influence upon the minds and happiness of the people. Of these, are the lawyers, who secure their neighbors in the quiet posses- sion of their rights; the teachers, who form the habits and mature the faculties of the youthful mind; the physicians, who disarm disease of 108 College Honors. half his terrors, and wage an almost doubtful contest with the king of terrors himself; and, of these too, are those heavenly messengers, those divine physicians, who proclaim the glad tidings of another life, who purge the world of moral disease, who deal out healthy prescriptions of morality and religion, who cheer the desolate heart, give lustre to the dying eye, and, when all other aid is useless, smooth the path to heaven. No one can deny that such men ar~ among the greatest benefactors of the human family, that they pursue the noiseless tenor of their way unknown to the trumpet that speaks of fame, and almost un- heard of beyond the precincts of the humble villages, in which a kind Providence has fixed their lot. College geniuses and college wits those butterflies of a summers daymay affect to despise their hum- drum faculties; yet they would be found wofully wanting, if weighed against them in an equitable balance. But useful as they are, they have but an indifferent place assigned them on the bills of the faculty. And what is the consequence? In a place where ambition is con- stantly appealed to as an honorable principle of action, and where an arbitrary scale of apparent proficiency in a few studies is confidently and publicly exhibited as a sure index of the whole intellectual char- acterin such a place, and under such circumstances, they find a low seat allotted them. What is to be done? They are conscious of having done their duty, of having well and faithfully improved their time. They cannot increase their efforts. They cannot amend their condition. But, where distinction alone is looked to, they must be content to pass undistinguished, and to see their more brilliant asso- ciates showed off to the public, and to their friends as important per- sonages, while they are constrained to figure in insignificant parts, or altogether hide their diminished heads amid the effulgent blaze of their superiors. What effect will this public degradation have upon them? Will it not dishearten them? Will it not damp their spirits, sour their minds, stagger their resolutions? Few, I am persuaded, have reflected upon the utter wretchedness thus occasioned to the sensitive mind, the bitter misanthropy which it has produced, the idleness and dissipation to which it has led the way. But the distinction must be made at some time. Why not in col- lege? Because it is unnecessary. It would certainly be a happy cir- cumstance, if governments could be so framed as to administer them~ selves without any forced exaltation of one individual over another. But this is impossible. The interests of society require that there should be different grades; that one must depend solely upon his own talents and industry, while another has, in addition to these a factitious influence produced by office, and is, for the time, thus elevated above his fellows. In college no necessity of this kind exists. Again, distinctions in the world are less invidious. Office is not given to reward merit, but for the public good. There is no grave tribunal to weigh each mans worth by ounces, and penny-weights, and grains. Nor are men crowded together as in college, and in the pur- suit of the same object. But young collegians, however different their characters, habits and desires, are thrown together, and made to act from the same motive, and in pursuit of the same object. Ambition is the ruling passion. A number of shining balls are rolled before them, and they all scramble for them. He who gets the largest, be it by fair College honors. 109 means or by foul, is hailed with immense applause, while the unlucky wights who get none are allowed to pass off unnoticed and unknown. A few are gratified, but the greater number disappointed, and, there- fore, the system is bad. But do not all enter the contest? Are not all benefited by the ex- ercise? All, indeed, enter the contest, but few continue their efforts. For, when progress is reported, high expectations are blasted. Hope, zeal and industry are succeeded by disappointment, disgust and indolence. Some are not affected at all, others despise the system be- cause persuaded that it acts unequally and unjustly; while a third class are grieved and discouraged, and a fourth and smaller class are stimu- lated to greater efforts. The only persons then, upon whom college honors have a beneficial effect, in fact the only persons not positively injured by them, are the few of this fourth and small class, who are in- duced by them to study, and who would not study without them. I cannot say how far literary institutions, in framing laws, should have reference to these high-minded young men, who must be coaxed for- ward every step of their course by means of little baits, just as turkeys, and geese and hens, the silliest of brute creatures, are coaxed to their coops, or their slaughter houses, by means of kernels of grain, strewed along the way ; but it seems to me that collegiate honors are given solely for their benefit, to the direct disadvantage of most of those con- nected with them. But have these honors really so little influence? The experiment has been tried. There are female academies in our vicinity, in which nothing of the kind is 6ffliiied, and their instructers bear ready testi- mony to the success of the experiment. And surely it is paying but a sorry compliment to our own sex, to allow that young ladies will study from a sense of its importance, while young men must every now and then, like little Charles, and George, and Billy, receive from mama their Alma Matera nice sweet cake, or some other trifle as little con- nected with the great object of learning. There are male academies, in our vicinity, long distinguished for the zeal and industry of their pupils, which offer no rewards for excellence, other than those natur- ally flowing from it. And surely college students would not thank us for the compliment, should we admit that academi, boys will study from a sense of its importance, while they must be enticed forward by glittering lures. I know that the way of the student is long, and often times dark and difficult; that a languid body, an aching head, and an aching heart, are but too often his only companions; that obscurity may surround, poverty oppress, discouragements beset him; but I could no more hope to make him a scholar by the excitements of a little present applause, present notoriety, present honor, than I could hope to make him a Christian by representing to him that a virtuous life alone would keep his pockets stocked with money. The true student, like the true Christian, has that before him and within him, which makes him de- spise all difficulties, look down all obstacles. The wizzards song of toil and trouble has no terrors for him. What though difficulties are in the way? Though rivers, oceans, mountains and deserts are to be crossed; though forests are to be explored, stables cleansed, Hydras voL. ii. 15 110 College Honors. slain, and even, the black jaws of Erebus to be robbed of their snarl- ing sentinel? All this he feels is better than To eat and be despised and die, Even as the beasts that perish, save that he Has a more splendid trough and wider stye ; better, than to live an animated mass of putrefaction, with a soul groveling in filth and assimilated to the meanest reptile that crawls on the face of the earth. He feels the want of knowledge; he keenly relishes the truths and beauties which it discloses, and he is satisfied. He wants no other motive. Quintilian, in his dissertation upon public and private education, mentions, among the greatest advantages of the former, that it ce- ments friendships, which are of great importance during life ; and Washington, in recommending the establishment of a national uni- versity, had special reference to the friendships, which would there be formed between students from remote sections of the country. But the flames of emulation, so studiously fanned in our literary institu- tions, speedily consume the cords intended to hind together the suscep- tible hearts of youth. Distrust, envy and hatred force themselves into souls formed for better feelings, while those, who are naturally jealous and suspicious, with whom all pains should be taken to destroy their fiend-like propensities, and to pour into their breasts something of the milk of human kindness, are made tenfold more the children of darkness. And how can it be otherwise, when they are every day brought together, and taught to look upon each other, not as compan- ions, but as rivals ? The same love of power and desire of distinction, which have in by-gone ages withered and blasted the fair flowers of natural affection, and prompted to deeds of blood, that disgrace the an- nals of our race, still have their effect, though on a small scale, upon the character of those in whom they are fostered; and, if they do not hurst out in similar acts of atrocity, it is only because they are are re- pressed by fear of the laws, the customs of the time, and the unseen influence of our religion. From themad spirit of ambition our country has more to fear than from all other causes united. In a despotism it may be pardoned, but here it is fatal. What has such an influence in arraying the north against the south, and the east against the west? What kindles and blows the flames of party rage, until they threaten to consume the very fabric of our government? What is perpetually bringing into collis- sion, from the four quarters of the land, the most jarring and discordant elements of political strife, as if for no other purpose than to witness the crash which they may produce? We call it party spirit; but it is nothing else than ambition,a spirit which would ride the whirlwind and direct the storm, solely for the purpose of showing its own power, a spirit which hopes to be thrown upon the surface, like the lowest dregs of the ocean, and to acquire an influence in troublesome and stormy times, which can never be conceded in times of general quiet and repose.a spirit, which hopes to batten upon the carnage of war, like wolves and vultures, though ever lean and famished in times of peace. In short, it is the spirit, which so much pains is taken to College Honors. 111 cherish in our colleges, and from which such beneficial results are expected. Were I reclining under the leaning tower of Pisa, I certainly should not be foolish enough to apprehend immediate danger from a fleas perching upon its summit, nor do I now believe, that because our government is so much exposed to the influence of ambitious men, it is, therefore, to fall a prey to the system of emulation in our colleges. But when I consider the almost universal prevalence of the system, and that every man, who may have an important part in the affairs of state, must be exposed to its inflammatory vapors, I confess that I have fears, and that 1 cannot think them unfounded. If other more harm- less principles of our natui~e can be appealed to with equal force, as to the practical purposes of education, why should they not be appealed to? I have all along supposed that college bills represent what they are intended for. Is this true? They are meant to encourage industry. What is their effect? One student of moderate abilities studies two hours, and gets for his pains a low mark. A class-mate, gifted with more rapid powers of acquisition, studies half an hour on the same lesson, and gets the highest mark. Is this encouraging industry? But they are meant to encourage sound learning. How is the fact? A young man of good talents and industrious habits gets a perfect under- standing of his lesson; but hehas a poor faculty of communicating his knowledge, and is set down for a blockhead. A class-mate, with a plausible manner, great fluency of speech, and an abundance of brass, just glances at his lessonperhaps, while in the recitation roomand passes for an excellent scholar. Is this encouraging sound learning? Is it not rather encouraging them to reverse the maxim of Cato, and make it their great aim to appear good, rather than to be so? I do not object to emulation. Where no forced rivaiships are en- couraged, no arbitrary distinctions established the natural feelings are acted upon in a natural manner, and, in this, as in other things~, the order of nature is a beautiful order, leading to her results, it may be, not by the most direct, but by the most sure and harmonious means. But when men undertake to improve upon nature, and to make palpable distinctions, which she meant should operate silently and imperceptibly, they limit the influence of those distinctions, turn them aside from their original purpose, and open the way to a brood of evil propensities, and ungovernable passions. One word more, before I close. Let it not be supposed that these remarks are intended for the encouragement of those idle profligates, who are glad to screen their mental nakedness behind any shriveled fig-leaf, which chance may throw within their reach. Sic nos non vobis. Lay not the flattering unction to your souls. The foxes have holes, the birds of the air have nests; for every swimming, every creeping thing a place has been provided; but in the whole economy of nature, no mansion has been prepared for you. You will not study for college honors. Very well. We shall not quarrel here. But if not for college honors, at least study for the sake of your friends, whose souls are bound up in your success; for the sake of those, who have provided you with the means of improvement, for 112 The Jewish Convert. the sake of your university, whose honor and usefulness depend upon those of her children; for the sake of your coujitry, who stands in need of all the knowledge, all the ability, all the virtue, which can be generated and perfected by her various resources ; for the sake of your own selves, your own reputation, usefulness and happiness. H. EXTRACT FROM THE JEWISH CONVERT~* AN UNWRITTEN TALE. HAVING flOW arranged my domestic affairs in some degree to my satisfaction, it ~eemed on the whole right and proper that, according to the custom of our coun- try and the laws of our religion, I should go up to Jerusalem, to celebrate the Feast of the Passover, the great anniversary of the deliverance of our nation, when the destroying angel, passed by the doors of the humble and persecuted bondsmen in a strange land, and brought dismay and desolation into the habita- tiens of their lordly oppressors, smiting the first born of the country, from the heir of the haughty Pharaoh upon his throne, to that of the meanest of his Egyptian subjects. It is true, that the effect of what I had heard and seen of the doctrines of the new Teacher, and of his wonderful gifts and powers, had made a strong impression upon my mind, but though I had at times thought much and deeply upon the sub- ject, yet the current of my reflections had been so often and strongly broken by the events that 1 have just been relating, and my attention had been so powerfully engaged by objects and occurrences of primary importance in my wordly con- cerns, that I had, as yet, been able to come to no definite conclusion on the sub- ject, nor even to arrange my desultory reflections in any distinct form. I felt indeed, that the subject was one of vast importance as it regarded my future wel- fare, but I felt it but vaguely, and by no means realized how much more essential it was to me, than the affairs upon which I had been engaged. To yon, who have known me only in later years, when my mind and heart have acted and felt under the full conviction of the truth of that, which then seemed like innovation, and, at the best, a matter of doubt and uncertainty, requiring painful reflection and careful consideration, to you it may appear a matter of sur- prise, that I should ever have been thus indifferent, thus insensible to the suprem- acy of the concerns of the soul over the transient goods or ills, that appertain but to its shortlived fleshly tenement. But though I tremble to think what might have been the consequences of neglected time and opportunities, had I then been called to my final account, yet I caiinot admit that there was aught in my conduct that might not find a ready explanation in the circumstances of the case, and the situation of the times; I erred indeed in my negligence in seeking after the truth, and I acknowledge my fault, but that I did err was not a matter affording just cause for astonishment. I had been brought up, as I have before observed, in the utmost reverence of the law delivered to Moses, on the burning Mount of Sinai, by Jehovah, and early was I taught to feel a pride in the circumstance, that of all the nations of the world, our own was the only one thus signally favored by Him with direct communication, and in being guided by his express will and immediate authority. In the rites and ceremonies of that law, I could perceive typifications of the great events of the past, and dim shadowings forth of those that were yet to come. I could perceive a moral meanino, fraught with important truths, and a harmony with all that we knew of the will and works of the Deity, which it was vain to seek in the worship of the Heathens. Among them I had wandered and sojourned for several years; I had heard the doctrines of the Egyptian Priests in Alexandria and Memphis. I had listened to the teachings of the Portico and the Academy in Athens, and the reiteration of them by the philosophers of Rome. I had seen the maddening rites cf Bacchus, and the disgusting worship of Cybele, and a thc~usand frantic, foolish, and blasphemous tenets and ceremonies, marking but * See Vol. i. p. 389.

Extract from the Jewish Convert. An Unwritten Tale Original Papers 112-118

112 The Jewish Convert. the sake of your university, whose honor and usefulness depend upon those of her children; for the sake of your coujitry, who stands in need of all the knowledge, all the ability, all the virtue, which can be generated and perfected by her various resources ; for the sake of your own selves, your own reputation, usefulness and happiness. H. EXTRACT FROM THE JEWISH CONVERT~* AN UNWRITTEN TALE. HAVING flOW arranged my domestic affairs in some degree to my satisfaction, it ~eemed on the whole right and proper that, according to the custom of our coun- try and the laws of our religion, I should go up to Jerusalem, to celebrate the Feast of the Passover, the great anniversary of the deliverance of our nation, when the destroying angel, passed by the doors of the humble and persecuted bondsmen in a strange land, and brought dismay and desolation into the habita- tiens of their lordly oppressors, smiting the first born of the country, from the heir of the haughty Pharaoh upon his throne, to that of the meanest of his Egyptian subjects. It is true, that the effect of what I had heard and seen of the doctrines of the new Teacher, and of his wonderful gifts and powers, had made a strong impression upon my mind, but though I had at times thought much and deeply upon the sub- ject, yet the current of my reflections had been so often and strongly broken by the events that 1 have just been relating, and my attention had been so powerfully engaged by objects and occurrences of primary importance in my wordly con- cerns, that I had, as yet, been able to come to no definite conclusion on the sub- ject, nor even to arrange my desultory reflections in any distinct form. I felt indeed, that the subject was one of vast importance as it regarded my future wel- fare, but I felt it but vaguely, and by no means realized how much more essential it was to me, than the affairs upon which I had been engaged. To yon, who have known me only in later years, when my mind and heart have acted and felt under the full conviction of the truth of that, which then seemed like innovation, and, at the best, a matter of doubt and uncertainty, requiring painful reflection and careful consideration, to you it may appear a matter of sur- prise, that I should ever have been thus indifferent, thus insensible to the suprem- acy of the concerns of the soul over the transient goods or ills, that appertain but to its shortlived fleshly tenement. But though I tremble to think what might have been the consequences of neglected time and opportunities, had I then been called to my final account, yet I caiinot admit that there was aught in my conduct that might not find a ready explanation in the circumstances of the case, and the situation of the times; I erred indeed in my negligence in seeking after the truth, and I acknowledge my fault, but that I did err was not a matter affording just cause for astonishment. I had been brought up, as I have before observed, in the utmost reverence of the law delivered to Moses, on the burning Mount of Sinai, by Jehovah, and early was I taught to feel a pride in the circumstance, that of all the nations of the world, our own was the only one thus signally favored by Him with direct communication, and in being guided by his express will and immediate authority. In the rites and ceremonies of that law, I could perceive typifications of the great events of the past, and dim shadowings forth of those that were yet to come. I could perceive a moral meanino, fraught with important truths, and a harmony with all that we knew of the will and works of the Deity, which it was vain to seek in the worship of the Heathens. Among them I had wandered and sojourned for several years; I had heard the doctrines of the Egyptian Priests in Alexandria and Memphis. I had listened to the teachings of the Portico and the Academy in Athens, and the reiteration of them by the philosophers of Rome. I had seen the maddening rites cf Bacchus, and the disgusting worship of Cybele, and a thc~usand frantic, foolish, and blasphemous tenets and ceremonies, marking but * See Vol. i. p. 389. The Jewish Convert. 113 the degradation of man and his ignorance of his Maker. I had indeed found pre- cepts, and feelings, and actions worthy of a more enlightened source, and of purer and more virtuous associations; but the effect of the whole was, that whle I was rendered less bigoted and intolerant with regard to the personal worth of those professing and practising a different religion, I was also confirmed in the belief of the divine origin and excellence of our own, by seeing how far it exceeded in simplicity, beauty, purity, and consistency, the most perfect creeds and systems produced by those acknowledged to be the master minds of the world. So that, in short, while I was less inclined to reject as worthless, without examination, aught in the way of religious belief or worship, that should offer itself to my notice, I was also less disposed to be satisfied by a partial examina- tion, however favorable might be its results, that any thing was to be gained by the change. It might contain some great and important leading truths, but they might be more than counterbalanced by a preponderating weight of error, which more accurate and extensive information and acquaintance would make apparent. Besides, too, I had the highest possible sanction and authority for my dependence upon the faith of my fathers, and my adherence to it. That the same sanction and authority should be given to something totally at variance with some part of that worship, something that should overthrow and supersede it, and erect a purer fabric upon its ruins, was not lightly to be credited, however plausible and weighty might be the evidence first presented on its behalf. It seemed, at least, as if there could be no sin in pausing for examination, and no hazard in holding to the belief in what was once true, even if true no longer, till it should be ascer- tained that this was the case. Nor amid the pressure of cares and anxieties con- cerning things in which a man, not under the dominion of conviction as to some- thing of higher and greater utility, must necessarily feel an absorbing interest, did it seem materially objectionable, to postpone for attention to them, and while waiting for calmer times of reflection and more abundant evidence, the consider- ation of these conflicting claims to faith, the decision between which might have so extensive an influence over the future circumstances and conduct of these very affairs. It was in this frame of mind that I made my preparations for going up to the Feast of the Passover, a feast which, whether I retained my adherence to the old religion, or ultimately became a convert to the new, seemed worthy of reverence and observance, as commemorating one of the most signal mercies and acts of deliverance of the Most High, the common and supreme object of adoration in both. I moreover felt now at leisure to investigate, fully and satisfactorily, the doc- trines and actions of this wonderful man, whose word, as my own senses bore witness, had power to break the slumbers of the grave, and to restore its tenants to a second enjoyment of life; and this very journey promised to afford me means and opportunities for this investigation. It was my purpose to take up my abode, during my stay, with my kinsman Lazarus and his sisters, as the village of Beth- any was at so short a distance from Jerusalem, that, for all the purposes I had in view, it was equally convenient with a residence in the city itself, and in a great degree free from the bustle and crowd unavoidable in the latter, from the great in~ ux of strangers from all parts of Judea coming up to celebrate the feast. From these friends, I knew that I could obtain ample information on all the points untouched during my brief and hurried stay, at the time I witnessed the stupendous miracle that recalled Lazarus again to the world; and I felt not much disposed to question the sincerity of their testimony, after the ample confirmation his own living presence would give to the truth of all he could possibly say. Besides, I had no doubt, from what I then saw and heard of the feelings with which the Teacher was regarded by the Scribes and Pharisees and Priests, but that I should have from their malignant zeal, at least enough of adverse testimony, though my kinsman and his sisters should be carried ever so far away by the cur- rent of their zeal and affection. I accordingly set out, pursuing the same route that I had taken on my former journey, and traveling leisurely on account of the heat, now beginning to be op- pressive at noon, and the somewhat heavy lading of my mules. I arrived on the evening before the day of the Passover, at my kinsmans house. But very differ- ent was the reception I now met with, from that I had experienced on my last visit. The sounds of cheerful voices greeted my ear, as I rode into the court, lights gleamed gaily through the lattices, and two or three domestics were seen busily passing to and fro, as if engaged in active preparation for the reception 114 The Jewish Convert. and entertainment of guests. One of them immediately caine forward, with a respectful but cheerful salutation of welcome, to hold the bridle of my beast while I alighted, and scarcely was my foot out of the stirrup, before I was re- ceived in the warm and affectionate embrace of my cousin, now vigorous in the perfect enjoyment of health. Giving the domestic directions for the care of my mules and baggage, he im- mediately conducted me to an inner apartment, where I changed my raiment and washed off the dust of the road, and thence he led me to another room where I found his sisters, in company with several other friends, most of whom, like my- self, had come from a distance to be present at the celebration of the feast. After a short interval, passed in mutual greetings, we were summoned to supper, which had been prepared in an inner apartment. When the keenness of hunger, excited by travel, had been allayed, conversation, which had languished for a while, was again resumed, and maintained with much interest, as we pro- longed our stay over the festive board for two or three hours, while partaking of the lighter refreshments of dried fruits and Greek and Syrian wines. As might naturally be expected, the conversation soon turned upon the new Teacher and his doctrines, which I found formed a subject of general interest, from his having come up to the feast, accompanied by his disciples, a few days before, and made a sort of triumphal entry into Jerusalem, in lowly guise, indeed, sitting upon an asss colt, with no other equipments than the hempen halter, with which the beast had been tied, and two or three of the outer mantles, or tunics, of some of his disciples thrown over the animals back, instead of a saddle or riding-cloth. The lowliness of this equipage was however compensated by the zeal of his followers, and of many of the multitude who soon assembled, part of whom spread their cloaks upon the way for the colt to tread upon, while others strewed the path and decorated their own persons with branches of palms plucked by the way side, and from the neighboring fields. The whole was said to have been accompanied with continued shouts of exultation and gladness from the multitude, who made the air resound with Hosanna! now is salvation! blessed is the King that cometh in the name of the Lord Most of those present I found were favorably inclined to the Teacher and his doctrines, and seemed to regard with much pleasure this decided manifestation towards him of popular favor. One or two, less sanguine than the rest, seemed to apprehend that evil consequences might come of it, since it would afford a hold for the malice of his enemies, to accuse him of exciting tumult and disturbance among the people, and might render him obnoxious to the displeasure of the Roman rulers, as the title of King, bestowed upon him by the multitude, even without any assumption of it on his own part, might, with very little stretch of ingenuity, be framed into something like an aiming at supreme temporal power, athingnotlikelytobelightlybrookedbythehaughtyspiritofRomandominion, which resolutely and unrelentingly crushed every exhibition of authority or pop- ularity, that might interfere with their own control over the state, however lenient they might be,and they certainly were so,with regard to the peculiar customs, manners, and religious rites, of their conquered provinces. Even if those more immediately interested, the Governor of Judea and his nearest inferiors in com- mand, should be otherwise willing to let the thing pass unnoticed, viewing the expressions used as the mere ebullition of excited popular feeling, and implying no offence against their rule, or any attempt to subvert it, yet it was argued that it would hardly be safe for them to act according to this opinion, however sincere and honest it might be, since the jealous and tyrannical disposition of the Emperor Tiberius, as is well known, and also the intrigues of the Roman court, where some unprincipled and ambitious aspirant to power would not fail to represent such conduct on the part of these great functionaries as wanting in respect for the person of the Emperor, and in zeal for his service, if not as proof of positive disaffection and rebellious disposition,the least of which things, even in suspicion only, would be sufficient to cost Pilatus his government, if not his life also. The proceedings of the Teacher, they continued, after his entrance into Jeru- salem, would give weight to such accusations, and they then mentioned, that he had gone into the temple and driven out those who had established themselves there as sellers of doves, for the purpose of supplying offerings according to the law to those who came to worship, and those also who acted as changers of money, ostensibly for the convenience of strangers, who, from the variety of coins in cir- culation through the country, and in different parts of it, might not, on coming to the city, be supplied with that kind of money, which its usages rendered most ne- cessary or advantageous. The Jewish Convert. 115 These sorts of traffic, as all seemed willing to allow, were an infringement upon the sanctity of the place and the respect due to it, even if carried on with perfect fairness, which, however, several said, was by no means the case; but that they were often employed as the means of shameful extortion and fraud, practised upon the ignorant and unwary,so that the practice was indeed worthy of the quota- tion said to have been used by the Teacher, while thus expelling those engaged in it, which was, My house shall be called the house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves. There appeared to me to be much force and probability in these arguments, to which, as to the rest of the conversation, I was almost entirely a listener, seldom speaking except to ask a question, or to make some little remark, that might serve to procure for me farther information or elucidation on a subject in which my mind was so much engaged. I was particularly struck, however, with the account of the triumphal entrance into Jerusalem, especially that part of it which described the Teacher as sitting upon an asss foal. It immediately struck me, that among some of our ancient and sacred writings, I had met with~ome passage expressing a similar thing, though I could not recollect exactly where it was to be found, nor its immediate application. The effect, however, was strong, and the circumstance kept perpetually recurring to my mind Could it be, that it was among the prophecies pointing out the great deliverer of Israel, who was one day to arise from the race of David, and to rescue my fallen and afflicted country from the grasp and oppression of her enemies! If so, here indeed seemed one to whom it might apply, and who, as far as pessonal gifts were concerned, might bear the application worthily. But how was this man to become such a deliverer, and what and whence were his means of restoring the departed power and glories of the chosen people, for so many ages a prey to the conquerors of the earth! Open- ly hated or affectedly despised by a greater part of the higher classes of the nation, wandering about the country with a few followers, (sincere and zealous, but sim- ple hearted men, without professions and without influence, or even the ordinary advantages of education or learning) how was he, destitute, as he had emphatical- ly said, of a place where to lay his head, to break the iron bands of foreign domin- ion, to overthrow those invincible legions, whose stern and disciplined valor had shaken the thrones of the most powerful kingdoms of the earth, and reduced even our former conquerors to submission and vassalage! How was he even to surmount the power, the jealousy, and the hatred of the princes and nobles of his own country, and how to evade the crafty councils of an ambitious and powerful priest- hood, to whom the very simplicity of his life and doctrines was a perpetual and goading reproach, made more bitter by his severe animadversions upon their prof- ligacy, their hypocrisy, and their avarh~! It is true, that our annals contained in their records of wonderful deliverances wrought by the power of the Most High, through feeble and in the estimation of man altogether insufficient means, against those, who afflicted with their persecu- tions the children of Israel; but never while those children were thus divided against themselves. The Teacher seemed wonderfully endowed with a spirit of power and knowledge beyond even the most eminent of our former prophets. At his bidding, sight came to the eyeballs of the blind, and strength to withered limbs; deadly disease vanished at his touch, and even the grave at his call gave up those there deposited, as was thought, forever. The very powers of the mate- rial world obeyed his voice, of which the simple mandate stilled the fury of the wind and the tossing of the waves, till the wings of the tempest were closed in slumber, and calmness brooded in the lately troubled air, and upon the now glassy sea. Here were evidences of a power, which, if exerted to that object, seemed capa- ble of overcoming all opposition that merely human efforts could offer, however wide and various their sources, and however close their concentration, of over- coming all but the pertinacity of the mind bent upon evil, and the gratification of its own malignant passions and misdirected ambition. Would, however, this pow- er be thus exerted? for its exertion must be with the energy of destruction, since no ordinary discomfiture or loss could ever make the Roman eagle forego a prey, on which his eye had once fixed; much less make him unclose his talons when they had already clutched it in their grasp. Nothing short of the ruin of the force of that empire, embracing directly or indirectly nearly the whole of the habit- able world, seemed sufficient to obtain our freedom and security. Such was the les- son written in characters of blood on many a page of history, and established by the ineffectual struggles of many a warlike nation, long the conqueror of others, but des- 116 The Jewish Convert. tined in its turn to submit to the military supremacy of Rome. To overthrow this supremacy was to rend and convulse the world, to open wide the flood-gates of slaughter and devastation, and to make the earth indeed drunk with blood. Yet the power that might do this, and which alone seemed capable of doing it, was in the possession of one, as described by those who knew him best, meek and lowly to a proverb, who disclaimed all worldly honors and wealth, and used his great endowments but for the purpose of relieving those afflicted with the diseases and privations incident to human nature, thereby to establish the truth of his self- denying mission and doctrines; who openly declared, that his kingdom was not of this world, and inculcated upon his followers nought but peace and good will to their fellows. From all that I had heard and seen, it seemed worse than idle to expect, that from this source was to spring the deliverance of Judea from thral- dom, and her restoration to the glory she possessed under Solomon. Sooner might the Ethiop change his skin and the leopard his spots, than the mild Jesus of Naz- areth become a shedder of blood and a leader of armies, a king and a conqueror, and his humble fishermen a band of sanguinary heroes, the successors and emula- tors of Joab and Abner, or the Maccabees. Yet to what end then was the coming of the Teacher, and to what purpose were the doctrines that he taught? I could not disbelieve his more than human gifts after what I heard, corroborated as it was by what I had seen, and if on investigation I should find reason to give credence to the divine authority of his coming, and the divine truth of his doctrines, it seemed as if I must give up the hope, so dear to every Jewish heart, of the future glory and dominion of the land of my fathers; for as the world seemed to be constituted, nothing was more opposite to the in- dulgence of such a hope, than the example and teaching of this Nazarene. I was lost and bewildered in the maze of my own reflections, and knew not where to turn for some stable point on which to rest my thoughts; though even then some vague surmises flashed across my mind, that the glory promised to Is- rael, like the kingdom of the Teacher, might not be of this world, and the yoke of sin might be that from which she was to find deliverance; and who seemed so fit to lead her to these, as He of whom we were then conversing? Of whom my friends were then conversing, I should have said, for in truth I had become so en- tirely absorbed in the meditations above related, that for a number of minutes I had entirely forgotten where I was, and had ceased altogether to notice aught that was passing. I was roused from my reverie by the voice of my kinsman, speaking with more than usual earnestness, and on looking up, I found his remarks were addressed to a small man, who had not before taken any part in the conversation, but whom I had casually noticed as being much engaged with the viands on the table, which he seemed to enjoy with a peculiar zest and air of satisfaction; not that arising from merely appeasing the cravings of hunger, but wearing the appearance of habitual attention to what was relishing and savory in the way of meat and drink. In short, from my cursory observation, I had, intuitively, as it were, set him down as one who was more of a worshiper of his belly, than a carer for aught else in this world, or for the hopes and blessings of a future state of existence. Nor was my hasty conclusion incorrect; for I soon found by the tenor of my kinsmans re- marks, that this man was of the sect of Sadducees, who deny that there is any resurrection after death, and who seemed to me, from what little I knew of their tenets, to bear considerable resemblance, in many of their notions, to the followers of Epicurus, among the self-styled philosophers of Greece and Rome. In conformity to the leading principles of his sect, he had been opposing some of the doctrines of the Teacher, particularly that of the resurrection and future life, accompanied with rewards or punishment, according to the virtues or vices practised in this world. Lazarus was now endeavoring to confute his remarks and arguments at considerable length, both by general reasoning upon the distribution of happiness and sorrow here, and the fitness and necessity of some future state to bring things to their just balance, and by appealing to our holy writings for vari- ous instances in support of it, and for particular illustrations. With regard to the future resurrection, he argued from the instances recorded of a return to life, of those who had been dead, as of the son of the widow of Nain, & .c.; ending finally with an appeal to the miracle not long before exhibited in his own person. The following, as nearly as I recollect it, was the concluding strain of his remarks upon this subject. If~ said he, death be indeed strictly the conclusion and final consummation of life; if, after the grave has closed upon what was man, there be nothing to hope for and nothing to fear; if the existence of intellect and The Jewish Convert. 117 the energies of the mind, as well as the form, the properties, and powers of the body, be indeed extinguished forever, to own no revivifying power, but to be to endless futurity as though they had not been; to what purpose do we live, gath- ering up wisdom by painful experience, and acquiring knowledge with toil, and danger, and suffering? To what end is this wisdom, and of what avail this knowl- edge? If, indeed, we obtained it by the arrival of a certain period of life, and thence lived on in the enjoyment and use of it to a certain definite farther period; and if the comforts and enjoyments, the influence and power, of this world, con- sidered as such merely in the common acceptance of terms, were consequent on these attainments of wisdom and knowledge, then indeed an end and a purpose would be visible; but, as I have already pointed out, these things are not so. Our wisdom and our knowledge are progressive, as long as our faculties are unimpaired or capable of acting with effect, till the very moment, even in the longest life, when we be g in to descend to the tomb, so that for that they seem a preparation, and not for the world. Death, moreover, comes at any period, and interrupts the progress of these acquisitions, in their earliest stages, or their most full and rapid advance. The honors, the power, the riches, the means of enjoyment afforded by the world, are more often the attendants upon craft, intrigue, wickedness of every kind, and even mere chance, in the way of inheritance, than upon the discipline of the mind to righteousness and the practice of virtue, and to the attainment of learning and wisdom. If, as I understand your doctrines, what we call the soul of man, whether mere- ly his consciousness, his intellect and mental powers, or some still more fine and subtle essence, the nature of which we cannot comprehend; if this be dependent on the living body, and so indissolubly linked with it, that the death of the latter must be the death also of the former, and there can be no reason to think that it can survive or appear in another existence, how is it that when once death has taken place, both soul and body can be restored to this life, and pursue their ex- istence in it, as though they had but slept. Life has departed and returned, and with it has returned all that constituted the man. Such instances I have pointed out in the records of our nation, and, as a final appeal, I gratefully and reverently offer myself as another. I was dead and entombed, yet now am alive. This Teacher, Jesus of Nazareth, who proclaims the doctrine of the resurrection, and of future life and ofjudgement to come, favored with the powers of the Most High, as he has abundantly evinced at other times and in other manners, has in this thing been pleased to visit even me with this great exertion of his gifts and of his love, and recalled me to life even after I had lain four days in the grave. Hav- ing power to do this, then, how can we doubt that he has power to do it to all or any, or how can we hesitate to believe, when he assures us, that all are to be- come the subjects of a final resurrection, and of future rewards and punishments? His power has been abundantly shown, and has established the truth of his words, claiming to be commissioned by the Most High, and with this testimony of his truth, how can we think, that his knowledge is not commensurate to his power, or that his words, that stand in this thing, shall fail in other things? A short and solemn pause of silence followed these remarks, and Joash, for so the little man was called, seemed for a moment disconcerted and unable to reply. Quickly recovering himself, however, he abruptly asked, But were you indeed dead? A look of astonishment from all the guests was turned upon him at this query, mixed with which I noticed in one or two of the younger ones, a suppressed smile of wonder at his pertinacious and uncourteous obstinacy. A flush of displeasure clouded the brow of Lazarus; and he appeared laboring to subdue some internal and unpleasant emotion. Joash remarked the feeling that his interrogation had called forth, and hastily added, I mean no imputation upon your sincerity or truth, and pray you to for- give me, if I have hurt your feelings by the unguarded manner of my question; but we have often heard accounts of many, that, being sick, have fallen into a trance, and, having lain therein many days, have at length resumed the use of their faculties and been restored to health. This, I thought, might possibly have been the case with yourself, and the Teacher, from some information or other, suspect- ing or knowing this, has thus been able to perform this seeming miracle, which, if so, would be nothing but a delusion. The countenance of Lazarus had by this time become serene, but was more than usually grave, as, after a few minutes deliberation on his part, and of anxious expectation on mine, he slowly and solemnly answered. voL. II. 16 118 Dramatic Reminiscences. What proof a man may be expected to give to the living, to convince them that he has actually been dead, is difficult to say. Between this world and that beyond the grave is a veil, that mortal hands may not draw aside, to reveal the secrets of futurity. Presumptuous as would be the attempt, it would be equally vain and idle, could it be carried into effect. Such revelations would be but the assertions of an individual, and as likely to be the unsubstantial phantoms of a dreaming trance, as of aught more real, as far as the minds of his fellow men could judge of them. They could therefore have no deserved effect, for they could have no corroboration. The simple assertion of the fact amounts to all that the individual himself can offer, and the opinions of those around him at the time is all the evidence, by which that assertion can be supported. That my sisters and friends believed me dead, no one will dispute, and for myself I can but sol- emnly assert the same, invoking as the witness of my truth, the sacred and tre- mendous name of Jehovah. The Teacher was present neither at my sickness nor at my burial, nor did he come into the neighborhood of this place till four days after the latter event; and to believe that he thought me in a trance, and that he knew it would end just at the time that on that supposition it did, and that just at that time he should be there, and call to me to come forth, and that I should not only hear him, but be able to obey him; to believe, I say, all these improba- ble coincident circumstances, implies a readiness of belief, a very credulity, that might be convinced by less direct testimony than that of my friends, and much less solemn asseveration, than that which I have just given. To this Joash had no reply, or no courage to make it, as he was then situated; and the subject was dropped. As might naturally be expected from the tone of the latter part of it, our feelings were not in train for entering upon any new and less engrossing topic of conversation, and after exchanging mutual greetings, we retired to repose. Long indeed was it, ere sleep visited my eyelids; weary as I was with the fatigues of the day, my thoughts were far too much excited, and too busily employed in meditation on what had passed, to let me sink into forget- fulness, till the first crowing of the cock had announced the approach of morning. DRAMATIC REMINISCENCES. NO. I. THE emigrants from Europe, characteristically denominated The Forefathers of New-England, were rigid puritans in religion. Most of those who followed them, during the first century, possessed the same or similar sentiments and feelings. Among other peculiarities in their system of religion and morals, was a deep and settled antipathy to theatrical amusements. When it is recollected that the modern Euro- pean drama had its origin in the convent, and was intimately connected with the mysteries of the monks, it will not appear surprising, that the Reformers and early Protestants should have viewed it with abhorrence, and considered its advocates as proper subjects of legal proscription and ecclesiastical denunciation. The licentiousness and immoralities of the players, at subsequent periods, wer7e, also, notorious, and afford- ed to those, whose aim it was to keep the state and the church uncon- taminated by the vices and impurities of the eastern continent, a sufficient reason for frowning upon all attempts to establish a theatre among them. The writer has not been able to ascertain whether any regular com- pany of players had attempted to settle in Boston, previous to the passing of the law of 1750, which prohibited theatrical representations; hut the presumption is that no such attempt had been made. The public prints of that period were but few; and editors did not, then,

Dramatic Reminiscences Original Papers 118-122

118 Dramatic Reminiscences. What proof a man may be expected to give to the living, to convince them that he has actually been dead, is difficult to say. Between this world and that beyond the grave is a veil, that mortal hands may not draw aside, to reveal the secrets of futurity. Presumptuous as would be the attempt, it would be equally vain and idle, could it be carried into effect. Such revelations would be but the assertions of an individual, and as likely to be the unsubstantial phantoms of a dreaming trance, as of aught more real, as far as the minds of his fellow men could judge of them. They could therefore have no deserved effect, for they could have no corroboration. The simple assertion of the fact amounts to all that the individual himself can offer, and the opinions of those around him at the time is all the evidence, by which that assertion can be supported. That my sisters and friends believed me dead, no one will dispute, and for myself I can but sol- emnly assert the same, invoking as the witness of my truth, the sacred and tre- mendous name of Jehovah. The Teacher was present neither at my sickness nor at my burial, nor did he come into the neighborhood of this place till four days after the latter event; and to believe that he thought me in a trance, and that he knew it would end just at the time that on that supposition it did, and that just at that time he should be there, and call to me to come forth, and that I should not only hear him, but be able to obey him; to believe, I say, all these improba- ble coincident circumstances, implies a readiness of belief, a very credulity, that might be convinced by less direct testimony than that of my friends, and much less solemn asseveration, than that which I have just given. To this Joash had no reply, or no courage to make it, as he was then situated; and the subject was dropped. As might naturally be expected from the tone of the latter part of it, our feelings were not in train for entering upon any new and less engrossing topic of conversation, and after exchanging mutual greetings, we retired to repose. Long indeed was it, ere sleep visited my eyelids; weary as I was with the fatigues of the day, my thoughts were far too much excited, and too busily employed in meditation on what had passed, to let me sink into forget- fulness, till the first crowing of the cock had announced the approach of morning. DRAMATIC REMINISCENCES. NO. I. THE emigrants from Europe, characteristically denominated The Forefathers of New-England, were rigid puritans in religion. Most of those who followed them, during the first century, possessed the same or similar sentiments and feelings. Among other peculiarities in their system of religion and morals, was a deep and settled antipathy to theatrical amusements. When it is recollected that the modern Euro- pean drama had its origin in the convent, and was intimately connected with the mysteries of the monks, it will not appear surprising, that the Reformers and early Protestants should have viewed it with abhorrence, and considered its advocates as proper subjects of legal proscription and ecclesiastical denunciation. The licentiousness and immoralities of the players, at subsequent periods, wer7e, also, notorious, and afford- ed to those, whose aim it was to keep the state and the church uncon- taminated by the vices and impurities of the eastern continent, a sufficient reason for frowning upon all attempts to establish a theatre among them. The writer has not been able to ascertain whether any regular com- pany of players had attempted to settle in Boston, previous to the passing of the law of 1750, which prohibited theatrical representations; hut the presumption is that no such attempt had been made. The public prints of that period were but few; and editors did not, then, Dramatic Reminiscences. 119 as now, make a record in their columns of every incident that occurred under their notice. In the month of March, that year, the General Court of Massachusetts passed an act, which may, with propriety, be here inserted, as forming an essential part of the sketches now pro- posed, and illustrative of the spirit and temper of the majority of the people. AN ACT TO PREVENT STAGE-PLAYS AND OTHER THEATRICAL ENTERTAINMENTS. For preventing and avoiding the many and great mischiefs, which arise from public stage-plays, interludes, and other theatrical entertainments, which not only occasion great and unnecessary expenses, and discourage industry and frugality, but likewise tend generally to increase immorality, impiety and a contempt of religion, SECT. 1. Be it enacted by the lieutenant-governor, council and house of representatives, that from and after the publication of this act, no person or per- sons whosoever shall or may, for his or their gain, or for any price or valuable consideration, let or suffer to be used and improved, any house, room or place whatsoever, for acting or carrying on any stage-plays, interludes or other theatrical entertainments, on pain of forfeiting and paying for each and every day or time such house, room or place shall be let, used, or improved, contrary to this act, twenty pounds. SECT. 2. And be it further enacted, that if at any time or times whatsoever, from and after the publication of this act, any person or persons shall be present as an actor in or spectator of any stage-play, interlude or theatrical entertainment in any house, room or place where a greater number of persons than twenty shall be assembled together, every such person shall forfeit and pay, for every time he or they shall be present as aforesaid, five pounds. rhe forfeitures and penalties aforesaid to be one half to his majesty for the use of the government, the other half to him or them that shall inform or sue for the same; and the aforesaid forfeitures and penalties may likewise be recovered by presentment of the grand jury, in which case the whole of the forfeiture shall be to his majesty for the use of this government. The exhibition, which gave rise to this moral regulation, is said to have been played at the coffee-house, in Boston, by two young English- men, assisted by some volunteer comrades from the town. The Or- phan, or Unhappy Marriage, by Otway, was selected for the subject. Some disturbances arising at the door, from the eagerness of the in- habitants to become spectators, rendered the affair more notorious; and the legislature adhering to the first principles of their forefathers, took occasion from it to attempt the continuing and perpetuating to posterity, the system of economy and purity, which had singularized the settlement of the country. Successive legislatures revived the law for near half a century, until the overbearing zeal, which displayed two theatres in the capital, influenced the government to desist from the further control of such a prevailing change in the manners of the people.* The coffee-house, mentioned in the preceding extract, stood in State-street, on the ground now occupied by the New-England In- surance Office and United States Bank. The law was observed and enforced with such scrupulous exact- ness, that no plays were publicly represented in Massachusetts, till 1792. Clandestine performances, however, o{~en took place; and there are many persons still living, who have been present at the rep- resentations of plays by amateurs. After the revolutionary war, as the population and wealth of the town of Boston increased, a taste for public amusements began to prevail; * Minots Hist. Mass. Vol. i. p 142. 120 Dramatic Reminiscences. and as the Puritanic sentiments of the older inhabitants gave place to more liberal and extended views in religion and morals, much of the prejudice against theatrical amusements subsided. Theatres had al- ready been erected in New-York and Philadelphia; the intercourse between those cities and Boston became daily more general; and a uniformity of taste and fashion in regard to manners and amusements was the natural consequence. No company of players, however, had boldness enough to open a theatre in violation of a positive law. Hal- lam and Henry, of the American Company, so called, on the 5th of June, 1790, presented a petition to the legislature, praying for leave to open a theatre in Boston, under proper regulations. The peti- tion was referred to a committee, but the prayer of it was never granted. The desire to remove all legal obstacles to public representations of plays became at length so general, that, in the autumn of 1791, it was resolved to bring the subject before the town in a formal manner. The Selectmen being about to call a town-meeting for sundry purposes, the following petition was presented, and, agreeably to the request of the subscribers, the proposed article was inserted in the warrant. GENTLEMEN, BosToN, 8th OCT. 1791. We the subscribers, aware of the propriety and advantages of well regulated public amusements in large towns, and being desirous of encouraging the interests of genius and literature, by encouraging such theatrical exhibitions as are calcu- lated to promote the cause of morality and virtue, while they at the same time conduce to polish the manners and habits of society; and it being repugnant to the principles of a free government to deprive any of its citizens of a rational and innocent entertainment, which is calculated to inform the mind, and improve the heart, while it is affording a necessary relaxation from the fatigues of business and the perplexities of care, respectfully solicit the Board of Selectmen, that they would insert an article in their next warrant for calling a town meeting, to take the opinion of the ishabitants of this town on the subject of admitting a theatre in the town of Boston, and whether their representatives shall be instructed to use their endeavors to obtain a repeal of an act passed in July, 1750, entitled An Act to prevent stage-plays and other theatrical entertainments ; which law, in the year 1784, was revived and continued for fifteen years; or to take such other measures relating to the premises, as to the said inhabitants shall seem proper. We are, with great respect, Gentlemen, Your most humbleservants, The Gentlemen Selectmen ~ of the Town of Boston. 5 JAMES S. LOVMLL PEREZ MoaTo N~ WM. COOLIDGE, Jos. HENDERSON, EDWARD CUSHING, JAMES READ, jun. WM. DEJILOIS, STEPHEN BRUCE, BARNEY SMITH, DAvID BRADLEE, J. WILLIAMS, NATHL. GARDNER, THO. ENGLISH, M. M. HAYS, GEO. BETHUNE, - JOSEPH FOSTER, CEO. DEBLOIS, WILLIAM SHAW, JONATHAN AMORY, ter. JONA. FREEMAN, JNO. DEYERELL, JOHN HARBAcE, LUKE BAKMR, RICHARD CODMAN, SETH ADAMS, EZRA COATES, STMPHEN FALES, EDWARD COLE, JOHN AMORY, jun. THO. BREWER, FRANCIS AMORY, EBRNR OlIVER ISAAC BOWERS JOHN BAZIN, JRO. FIsSIEa, DAVID TYLER, THOMAS CARNES, LURE BALDWIN, LEONARD V. BORLAND. Dramatic Reminiscences. 121 The original, from which this petition is copied, is on file in the clerks office, and is in the hand writing of the gentleman whose name is at the head of the signatures. The town-meeting was held, on the 26th of October. The Hon. Thomas Dawes, senior, was chosen moderator. After the petition was read, Mr. T. Dawes, jun. moved that the petitioners have leave to with- draw their petition. Mr. Morton moved that a committee be chosen to prepare the instructions prayed for in the petition. It was decided by the moderator, that the motion of Mr. Dawes was first in order. A long and animated debate then took place. The motion was supported by the mover, and by Messrs. S. Dashwood, Samuel Adams, Harrison G. Otis, Benjamin Austin, and Dr. William Eustis. It was opposed by Dr. Charles Jarvis, Messrs. James Hughes, and William Tudor. The debate continued till seven oclock in the evening, when the ques- tion was taken and decided in the negative, by a large majority. The question was then taken on Mr. Mortons motion, and decided in the affirmative. The petition was committed to Messrs. Perez Morton, James Hughes, James Prince, Thomas Crafts, Joseph Russell, Charles Bulfinch, and Samuel Cabot; and the meeting was adjourned to the ninth of November following. At the adjourned meeting the committee presented their report, which was read, and accepted without much opposition. The follow- ing extract from it contains the Instructions to the Representatives of the town of Boston. GENTLEMEN, At a very full meeting of the inhabitants of the town of Boston, the sense of your constituents has been taken upon a law of the legislature, passed in the year 1750, entitled an act to prevent stage-plays and other theatrical entertain- ments ; and after a lengthy debate, they have determined, by a very large ma- jority, that the existence of that law, in its present unlimited form, operates as an undue restraint upon the liberty of the citizen, and as an infringement of his unalienable rights. They consider the right to relax from the toils of industry and the fatigues of business, by ~ resort to any rational and innocent amusement, as constituting no inconsiderable part of the happjness of civil society, and one of the essential- bless- ings confirmed to m~n by a free constitution of government. A theatre, where the actions of great and virtuous men are represented under every possible embel- lishment, which genius and eloquence can give, will not only afford a rational and innocent amusement, but essentially advance the interests of private and political virtue; will have a tendency to polish the manners and habits of society, to dis- seminate the social affections, and to improve and refine the literary taste of our rising republic. Your constituents, therefore, as well to promote these public benefits, as to remove every obstacle to the enjoyment of their political rights, in- struct and enjoin you, at the next session of the Legislature, to move for, and to use your utmost endeavors until you effect, a repeal of the law alluded to, so far, at least, as respects the town of Boston. By attending to the objects your constituents have in view, you will readily perceive, that they are as much opposed to the licentious abuse of this valuable privilege, as to the arbitrary and unnecessary restraint, with which it has so long been shackled. They, therefore, further direct you to endeavor, that the law of repeal may be so constructed, that no dramatic compositions shall be the subjects of theatrical exhibitions, until they have first obtained a sanction from some au- thority to be appointed for that purpose; in order that none of an immoral impres- sion may ever disgrace the American Stage, and such only be presented to the view of the people, as shall be calculated to improve their taste, to mend their hearts, and to subserve the great and beneficial purposes of public and private virtue. (Signed) By order of the Committee. PEREZ MORTON, Chairman. 122 Lines written in the AThum of a Young Bride. Those who are familiar with scenic representations, who have wit- nessed their effects, and who have become acquainted with the habits, propensities, moral characters, and literary acquirements, of a large majority of the players, may, perhaps, smile at some of the views and sentiments expressed in these documents. It should be recollected that few or none of the persons most solicitous to procure a repeal of the prohibitory statute, had ever resided in a city where there was an established theatre; that the works of dramatic authors were not, as now, in general circulation; that Gustavus Vasa and Cato were al- most the only plays which had been printed in America, and which, owing to the sentiments of patriotism and piety that breathe in every page, were read and admired in almost every family; that the ideas of many, in reference to the end and effect of tragedy, were imbibed from Popes Prologue to Cato; and that all wanted that knowledge on the subject, which thirty years of experience has imparted. LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF A YOUNG BRIDE. THERE is an hour, when Memory tells Its records oer; When the heart beats the music it was wont In days of yore. Not when the noonday sun pours down His fainting power, Nor when the morning dew lies thick and bright, On grass and flower But when the blush of twilight paints The evening sky, And in the east a star or two looks out With timid eye; When murmurs low and soft creep through The rosy air; And young leaves stir as in the balmy breath Of spirits there; When the sweet sound of bells steals on The listening ear, Or voice of birds or hum of whispering tree, We pause to hear ; The light of early days comes back, On lightning wing, And to the Pilgrims dusty heart returns, The green of Spring. The brook, the meadow and the school, We see them all; And voices in the air we hear, that seem Our names to call. A mothers kiss upon our cheek We feel once more. Beside a fathers knee we stand, as we Were wont of yore. Far from the home of thy young days Thy lot calls thee; Far from the looks of love, that girdled round Thy infancy.

Lines Written in the Album of a Young Bride Original Papers 122-123

122 Lines written in the AThum of a Young Bride. Those who are familiar with scenic representations, who have wit- nessed their effects, and who have become acquainted with the habits, propensities, moral characters, and literary acquirements, of a large majority of the players, may, perhaps, smile at some of the views and sentiments expressed in these documents. It should be recollected that few or none of the persons most solicitous to procure a repeal of the prohibitory statute, had ever resided in a city where there was an established theatre; that the works of dramatic authors were not, as now, in general circulation; that Gustavus Vasa and Cato were al- most the only plays which had been printed in America, and which, owing to the sentiments of patriotism and piety that breathe in every page, were read and admired in almost every family; that the ideas of many, in reference to the end and effect of tragedy, were imbibed from Popes Prologue to Cato; and that all wanted that knowledge on the subject, which thirty years of experience has imparted. LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF A YOUNG BRIDE. THERE is an hour, when Memory tells Its records oer; When the heart beats the music it was wont In days of yore. Not when the noonday sun pours down His fainting power, Nor when the morning dew lies thick and bright, On grass and flower But when the blush of twilight paints The evening sky, And in the east a star or two looks out With timid eye; When murmurs low and soft creep through The rosy air; And young leaves stir as in the balmy breath Of spirits there; When the sweet sound of bells steals on The listening ear, Or voice of birds or hum of whispering tree, We pause to hear ; The light of early days comes back, On lightning wing, And to the Pilgrims dusty heart returns, The green of Spring. The brook, the meadow and the school, We see them all; And voices in the air we hear, that seem Our names to call. A mothers kiss upon our cheek We feel once more. Beside a fathers knee we stand, as we Were wont of yore. Far from the home of thy young days Thy lot calls thee; Far from the looks of love, that girdled round Thy infancy. Oregon Territory. 123 Thou givest up thine unstained heart, A priceless dower; Its treasures lavishing, as summer clouds Their fullness pour. What though thou weepest when thy lips Pronounce Farewell? Mourn not. A joy serenely sweet, within Thy heart shall dwell. Thy look shall fill thy husbands home, With sunlike rays; And on that calm and virgin brow shall light A matrons grace. The thought of duties well performed Shall wing thine hours. The throbs of new affections in thy heart Shall spring like flowers. But in the dewy time of eve, Thy thoughts will roam, And thou wilt bid the winds waft wishes sweet To thy far home. Unbidden tears shall fill thine eyes, Tears of relief; More like the dew of joy, than the fierce rain Of choking grief. The old familiar faces then, Fancy will see. The tones of well-remembered voices too Shall startle thee. Farewellforget us not, as we Forget not thee, And, in the mansions of thy heart, 0 keep A place for me. OREGON TERRITORY. WE had thought that no part of the world presented a fairer field to enterprise and industry, than that portion of North-America which lies east of the Mississippi and south of the great lakes. We have good laws, and well administered; commerce and agriculture flourish, and honest labor is sure of its reward. We had thought that in New- England, especially, sickness and unavoidable accidents were the only causes for fear. Here education is more encouraged than any where else. The helpless poor, even those whom vice has rendered so, are not suffered to starve. All this is well; very well; but it seems we can do better. At least, so say, and perhaps think, the projectors of the intended expedition to ttie mouth of Columbia river. A gentleman, for whose talents and ambition his native land does not afford sufficient scope, has been employing his leisure in devising schemes to better the condition of his fellow countrymen. His studies have not been in vain: if his plans should prove practicable, nations yet to be will bless him as their father and benefactor. In a word, he has issued advertisements, inviting the good people of New-England

W. J. S. S., W. J. Oregon Territory Original Papers 123-132

Oregon Territory. 123 Thou givest up thine unstained heart, A priceless dower; Its treasures lavishing, as summer clouds Their fullness pour. What though thou weepest when thy lips Pronounce Farewell? Mourn not. A joy serenely sweet, within Thy heart shall dwell. Thy look shall fill thy husbands home, With sunlike rays; And on that calm and virgin brow shall light A matrons grace. The thought of duties well performed Shall wing thine hours. The throbs of new affections in thy heart Shall spring like flowers. But in the dewy time of eve, Thy thoughts will roam, And thou wilt bid the winds waft wishes sweet To thy far home. Unbidden tears shall fill thine eyes, Tears of relief; More like the dew of joy, than the fierce rain Of choking grief. The old familiar faces then, Fancy will see. The tones of well-remembered voices too Shall startle thee. Farewellforget us not, as we Forget not thee, And, in the mansions of thy heart, 0 keep A place for me. OREGON TERRITORY. WE had thought that no part of the world presented a fairer field to enterprise and industry, than that portion of North-America which lies east of the Mississippi and south of the great lakes. We have good laws, and well administered; commerce and agriculture flourish, and honest labor is sure of its reward. We had thought that in New- England, especially, sickness and unavoidable accidents were the only causes for fear. Here education is more encouraged than any where else. The helpless poor, even those whom vice has rendered so, are not suffered to starve. All this is well; very well; but it seems we can do better. At least, so say, and perhaps think, the projectors of the intended expedition to ttie mouth of Columbia river. A gentleman, for whose talents and ambition his native land does not afford sufficient scope, has been employing his leisure in devising schemes to better the condition of his fellow countrymen. His studies have not been in vain: if his plans should prove practicable, nations yet to be will bless him as their father and benefactor. In a word, he has issued advertisements, inviting the good people of New-England 124 Oregon Territory. to leave their homes, their connections, and the comforts of civilized society, and follow him across the continent to the shores of the Pacific. When we heard of this scheme, our first impression respect- ing the morals of its originator was by no means favorable. His noble confidence in his abilities as a governor and a guide, over terri- tories he had never seen, to a country in which he had never been, appeared extremely like impudence. We observed, too, that while his public programma spoke of the natural advantages of Oregon, and of two hundred acres of land which he intended to bestow on each emi- grant, it said nothing of the sum said emigrant was to deposite in his hands previous to the commencement of the journey. But when we considered the hardships and dangers which he, as well as those he may delude, must undergo; when we thought of the risk he has run, and still runs, of being sent to the insane hospital; when we reflected on his certain disappoiiitment, and the ridicule he will incur by it, we were constrained to believe that disinterested benevolence was his motive. We are informed that this excellent person has now a list of the names of many hundreds who receive his dreams as oracles. Were our prisons to be emptied on the shores of the Pacific, the benefit to the United States would be undeniable, whether the convicts perished on the way or not. Even then a wrong would be done to the natives of Oregon. But we are informed that the persons who intend to leave us, and to lead their wives and children to misery, if not to destruc- tion, are husbandmen, mechanics, and other respectable members of society. Such persons should not be lightly lost, and we write in the hope that they will read and pause. The proceedings of our projector have been so involved in mystery, that it is impossible to speak minutely of his intentions. We under- stand, however, that his followers are to assemble at St. Louis as early next spring as possible, and thence proceed to cross the Rocky Moun- tains, somewhere near the sources of the river Platte. The expedition is to go by land, but farther our informant saith not. Whether half the Oregon emigrants will ever reach St Louis is at least doubtful. Do they seek a fine country on the Oregon river? They will pass through a much finer, even allowing the tales on which they rely to be true, whether they go by the Ohio or the lakes. They will find as healthy a climate as is in the world, and a soil that yields eighty bushels to the acre. They will pass through lands of which they may buy two hundred acres for less than the farther expenses of their journey. They will pass through a kindred people, from whose society they will derive as much advantage, to say the least, as they could from the Clatsops and Chopunnish of Oregon. In short, they will see the state of things they expect to bring about at the end of a long and perilous journey, and after several years of strenuous exertion, already established, without trouble on their part. If they pass the Mississippi they will injure the reputation of New-England ~for sagacity. Those who reach St. Louis will find there many who have been to Oregon and found no temptation to remain there. These will treat their undertaking with the scorn it deserves; and if they go farther it will be in spite of good advice. The people of Missouri, though a Oregon Territory. 126 little addicted to dirking and duelling, are not destitute of humanity, and will not see their fellow creatures perish without expostulating. We will suppose that a considerable number persist and proceed onward. They may, possibly, charter a steamboat to take them to the mouth of the Platte, but no farther, for that stream is not navigable for steamboats, unless during freshets. We take it for granted that women and children cannot perform so long a journey on foot, and that the baggage, household furniture, implements of husbandry, & c. cannot be conveyed on pack horses. Wheel-carriages will, therefore, be necessary, and animals to draw them. So large a caravan must necessarily proceed slowly, especially as it will be encumbered with so many helpless persons. We have seen bodies of the Ossinneboia emigrants on their way from Red river to the Falls of St. Anthony, and they never gained more than ten miles per diem. Moreover, they had been seasoned to the hardships of an Indian country, which cannot be said of the Oregon adventurers. Be- sides, their journey was not so long, and there were several trading stations on their route, so that they were not obliged to halt to procure provisions. If our friends are ready to start from St. Louis by the first of June, they will have done wonders. If they reach the mouth of the Platte in a month more, it will be more than we think possible. Thence they have a thousand miles to go before they reach the Rocky Mountains. At the above mentioned rate of traveling they would reach the dividing ridge about the last of September; that is, supposing they met no accident, hindrance,.or delay. But there are many obstacles to their progress, against all of which they may, and some of which they must, be obliged to contend. They cannot take provisions with them for more than a few days, and must, therefore, depend on their guns for support. The only game the country affords in abundance are buffaloes, and of these there are enough, and more than enough, in some seasons. There are bears, indeed, but these are of the kind properly called by naturalists horn- bilis, and are much more likely to feed on the travelers than to furnish them with a meal. There are deer, and elks, and prairie antelopes; but too few, and too seldom seen, to be relied upon. Likewise there are marmots, owls, rattlesnakes, and other vermin, on which all who make long journeys in the steppes of North-America, must occasionally be content to dine, and be thankful for the god-send. The buffaloes are all that are to trust to, and a very precarious trust it is. They are constantly migrating, and their migrations are not regulated by the seasons, or any circumstances on which calculations can be made. We may say without exaggeration, that we have seen hundreds and thousands at a glance, and we have also passed months in a buffalo country with- out seeing a horn. The Indians live on them, it is true; but they follow them in their travels as closely as the wolves, and if the herd enters the country of a hostile tribe, they endure the horrors of starva- tion. Very many of the buffalo-hunting savages perish every year of literal famine. There is ever either great abundance or extreme want. If the Indians suffer, how will the emigrants, who are not hunters, provide for themselves? A ships crew, who should undertake a voyage to India, relying on the fishes they might catzh on the way, would voL. ii. 17 126 Oregon Territory. have a better and surer resource than those who undertake a slow march to Oregon, relying on the buffalo. The country through which the adventurers must pass is a level plain, where the eye seeks in vain for a tree or a shrub. The streams only are scantily fringed with wood. In some places the emigrants must travel days and nights without finding wood or water. None but those who have endured these privations can conceive the sufferings attendant on them. And supposing the horses are not stolen by the Indians, or driven away by the wolves and grisly bears, they cannot find food. The ground is covered with herbage for a few weeks in the year only. The Indians burn the prairies regularly twice a year, from Lake Win- ipeg to Mexico, and for at least nine months in the twelve, nine tenths of their area is as bare of vegetation as the desert of Zahara. The wet and swampy spots, only, escape the flames. The wild horses and other animals, contrive to exist, indeed; but it is by keeping in such places as we have mentioned as long as they find a green leaf, and then flying like the wind in search of others. Their existence depends on an activity which draught horses cannot exert. There is yet another difficulty which the emigrants should consider. We can as- sure them, on our own experience, that not one horse in five can per- form a journey of a thousand miles without a constant supply of some- thing better than prairie grass. If our friends lose half their cattle on the way, as it is twenty to one they will, what is to become of those who must necessarily be left behind? Between the river Platte and the Rocky Mountains there are several streams, which are dry, or nearly so, more than half the year. But when a long rain falls in the mountains they swell, into raging torrents, and are impassable, at least to carts, women and children, for days to- gether. Is it not likely that the caravan may be delayed by such an occurrence? May not such a delay take place while the prairie is blackened with cinders and the buffaloes are far away? The country through which the expedition must pass is precisely in the track of all the war parties that travel over the space between the Missouri and the Rocky Mountains. It is the abiding place and the battle ground of fifty warlike tribes. We grant that there is not an individual among them all who will not receive a stranger kindly in his wigwam, and give him to eat of the best; but neither is there ~in individual among them who will not cut that strangers throat, for the value of his gun-flint, if he meets him alone in the prairie. Besides, it is their rule, when they undertake a warlike enterprise, not to bear the sword in vain, and if they happen to be unsuccessful, or defeated, wo to him who crosses their path. We could adduce a hundred instances of American citizens who have been put to death for no other cause than having accidentally fallen in the way of an unsuccessful war- party. Was not the last caravan that went from St. Louis to Santa Fe repeatedly assailed, and only preserved from destruction by a strong armed party of United States troops? Those traders gave no offence to the savages, unless passing through their country be considered such. Allowing that the travelers can save their persons from the attacks of letans, Pawnees, Pawnee Loups, Pawnee Republicans, Appaches, Comanches, Arrapahoes, Shoshonees, Rickarees, Konzas, Crows, Oregon Territory. 127 Blackfeet, and fifty more predatory hordes, whose very names are abominations, can they save their horses? Do they know that all the buffalo-hunting Indians are the most expert horse-thieves in the world? Do they know that they make their proficiency in horse-stealing, their boast and pride? that they consider the appropriation of a horse a very virtuous and praiseworthy action; little less glorious than the slaughter of a white man? Do they know that a horse is absolutely necessary to a buffalo-hunters existence, and is, therefore, the greatest temptation that can be put in his way? Do they know that their path is directly in the track of the no less barbarous than brave Blackfeet, who, when Captain Lewis killed two of their tribe (in an attempt to steal his horses) made a vow never to spare an American, and have religiously kept it ever since? Do they know that all the Indians of that region justly hold the very name of an .American in abhorrence? Perhaps, if we give them the reason for this hatred, they will believe us the more readily. About twelve years since it was discovered by a public-spirited citi- zen of St. Louis, that the supply of furs was not equal to the demand. To remedy this evil he raised a corps of white sharp-shooters, equip- ed them with guns, traps, ammunition and horses, and sent them into the wilderness to teach the Indians that their right was only a right of occupancy. They did the savages irreparable injury. They frightened the buffaloes from their usual haunts, destroyed the fur-clad aniTnals, and did more mischief than we have room to relate. The Indians were wont to hunt in a slovenly manner, leaving a few animals yearly for breed; but the white hunters were more thorough-spirited, and made root and branch work. When they settled on a district they destroyed the old and the young alike, and when they left it, they left no living thing behind them. The first party proving successful, more were fitted out, and every successive year has seen several armed and mounted bands of hunters, from twenty to a hundred men in each, poured into the Indian hunting grounds. All this has been done in open and direct violation ~of a law of the United States, which forbids trapping and hunting On Indian lands in express terms. The conse- quence has been, that there are now no fur-clad animals on this side of the Rocky Mountains. These proceedings, we think, may account for the hatred of the Indians; but there is yet something more~ In eighteen hundred and twenty-five or six, the Rickarees attacked a body of about a hundred hunters, and killed several of them. These met the fate they had provoked and well deserved. Nevertheless, a brigade was forthwith sent to chastise the Rickarees. Sixty of the savages having been sacrificed to the manes of the intruders they had slain, peace was granted them, and after the honor of our country had been pledged to pursue them no farther, the l)romise was violated, and their village was burned before their eyes. Though ignorant, Indians are not idiots, and our Oregon friends may be assured that these trans- actions are remembered by all the Indians of that region, and will continue to be, perhaps to their cost. We may be told that it is no news that horses may he stolen if they are not watched, and that men may be attacked and defeated, if they do not defend themselves bravely. We may be told that there are en- gaged in the expedition, men enough to bid defiance to all the Indians 128 Oregon Territory. west of the Missouri, and that it is hoped government will grant addi- tional protection. We may be told that what has been done once, may be done again, and that the journey has already been performed by several parties. But for every why there is a wherefore. When so many travel they must have many horses, and these must be suffered to feed at large every night. Indians lose their own cattle, and Indians are more watchful and see better in the night than white men. Captains Lewis and Clark lost their horses; the hunters and trappers have lost hundreds. Why should our friends expect better fortune than commonly falls to the lot of others? We make no doubt that the emigrants are numerous enough to beat any number of savages that can be assembled, in a fair field. But In- dians do not fight pitched battles. They come when they are least expected, and, if they find too much resistance, retire and wait for a more favorable opportunity. In so long a march it is impossible that so many can keep together. The Indians may easily cut off the stragglers, and those, who, from very weariness, fall in the rear. They may drive the buffalo out of their road and burn the prairie be- fore them, so that their horses must perish, and, in consequence, the women and children also. In a word, it is impossible that such a body can make so long a journey, through a hostile country, without a hundred times exposing themselves to attack at disadvantage. Their numbers will increase the difficulty of procuring food, and they will therefore be obliged to scatter more than other parties are wont to do. That they will lose their horses we consider absolutely certain, and if they do, the women and children will inevitably perish by hunger or the tomahawk. If they are not assailed more than once before they reach the sources of the Platte, then must the Indians have changed their opinions; nay, their very nature. The project of a settlement on Columbia river has been repeatedly before Congress, and has been pronounced visionary by the wisdom of the nation. At this present session, such an opinion has been express- ed by one of the best and greatest men in the country, and there is little appearance of any measures in favor of the expedition. A part of the army, it seems, is to protect the Sante Fe traders, and our troops are too few to permit a second detachment for a similar purpose. The journey has, indeed, been performed; but by whom? Not by farmers just from the plough; by handicraftsmen just from their work- shops, led and guided by a student, who confessedly does not himself know the way; but by small parties of practised hunters. They car- ried no women or children with them; no carts, no baggage. They did not linger along the route. They knew the dangers and hardships they were to encounter, and prepared to meet the hardships and avoid the dangers. Have they not, nevertheless, endured much? Was not Captain Lewis obliged to fly for his life with his men? Was not Ma- jor Longs party robbed once? and were they not in imminent danger of suffering the like again? We are told that General Ashley and Mr. Pilcher encourage this undertaking. Have not parties under their command been repeatedly attacked? Have not very many of their people perished with cold and hunger, or been killed by wild beasts and Indians? Did any white man ever cross the Rocky Mountains, who will say that a white woman could have followed him? In short, Oregon Territory. 129 to live in an Indian country, men must be~ able to move with a celerity which cannot have being in our body of emigrants. Let us suppose, for the sake of argument, what is impossiblethat our friends surmount all the difficulties we have mentioned. Perhaps, it will not be unreasonable to suppose that these difficulties will detain them a month longer on the route. They will then reach the Rocky Mountains about the beginning of October, and winter will stop them on the summit. They will find a climate of which they have never dreamed in the Atlantic States. How are they to winter in the moun- tains? That region has no buffaloes, and does not abound in game of any kind. Captains Lewis and Clark describe the Indians who reside there as miserable in the extreme, and always half..sta.rved. Many of them actually do starve. And how7 tire the cattle, which will have been as miraculously preserved as were the Israelites in the Exodus, how will they subsist among rocks and precipices, from which the ar- gali will .lo~k down and laugh at the guns and the folly of the adven- turers. The people will have brought no winter provision, no forage. There is one comfort, however; having performed a journey of little more than a thousand miles, with light loads, and having had the graz- ing of perhaps a hundred acres of prairie, the beasts will no doubt be plump and well-conditioned. They may be killed and jerked, and the deluded crows, attracted by the scent of the feast, will not, as usual, wing their way to a more hospitable region. When this supply fails, the settlers may climb over the rocks which echo the cries of their famishing. children, in vain search for tripes de roche. We have taken it for granted, that they. have found a practicable road into the mountains. Messrs. Pilcher and Ashley say there is one; at least, so Mr. Kelly tells us. Perhaps it would be well to inquire if these gentle.. men (who have much business beyond the Rocky Mountains) have not some interest to desire a settlement on the Columbia. But they are far distant, and we have no wish to impute other than the best motives to them. Let it suffice that the emigrants have now gone over half their distance. We know that there is a nutriment in old shoes; and though two thirds of Captain Franklins men died of abdominal cramp in conse- quence of eating tripes de roclie, that fungous aliment may agree bet- ter with the emigrants. It is but trying it, when the worst comes to the worst. With these helps, then, we will suppose our friends have starved through the winter with the wolves. The horses may also be supposed to have been brought through the winter as they were through the prairies, by the especial favor of Providence. By the first of April, perhaps, the expedition will be ready to start afresh, and a proper day it will be for the renewal of such a journey. Lewis and Clark tell us that the country on the Columbia River is to the last degree rugged and mountainous. So say hunters who have been there; and so says the map. Messrs. Ashley, Pilcher and Kelly say, nay; and that there is an excellent cart-road. Which are we to believe? The persons who intend to emigrate believe Mr. Kelly. For our own part, having found the reports of Lewis and Clark, touch- ing a part of their travels, corroborated by our own experience, we are content to take their word for the rest. Mr. Kelly says that the coun- try abounds with food. Lewis and Clark say that they often found 130 Oregon Territory. the natives in extreme want, if not actually starving, and that their own party, though provided with fishing tackle, and guns, which they well knew how to use, were glad to buy a few small dogs wherewith to quiet the cravings of nature. Mr. Kelly says the climate is excellent. Lewis and Clark say that it is wet and uncomfortable; Lewis and Clark also say that if their party did not actually suffer from hunger, they at least found much difficulty in making their rifles maintain them. A proof of the fact is, that they were glad to mend their fare with the putrid carcass of a dead whale which the sea had washed up, and for this they went ten miles over a high and steep mountain, at the imminent risk of their necks. Lewis and Clark do not agree with Mr. Kelly in a single point, and as they have been where he grants that he never has, we must prefer their word to his. When Mr. Kelly has gotten his gulls fairly to their nests, that is, to Oregon, how is he to obtain the land which he proposes to lay out for them, in lots of two hundred acres each? Does he mean to purchase it of the natives with the money with which the settlers will have so judiciously entrusted him? The laws of the United States expressly prohibit any such traffic between Indians and private individuals. We hope the gentleman does not intend to set up the doctrine of state rights, and nullify the laws and the constitution. It would throw discredit on Massachusetts. Especially do we hope and trust that he does not intend to throw off allegiance and become the founder and ruler of a western empire. If he does, we can tell him that we shall not permit the establishment of such an imperium in imperio. But there is no danger of his making such a bargain, on any pretence whatever. We do not think he can take the goods which would be necessary with him, and unfortunately the Clat- sops and Chopunnish set no value on coined silver; still less on hank notes. I4is dollars would have far less value in their eyes, than so many fish hooks or musket balls. We are reluctantly obliged to draw this inference from the facts; that he intends to follow the example of Attila; to lead his followers to the field, slay and take possession. To this there exists one objection. For any of our citizens to levy war, on their own responsibility, against a foreign people, savage or civilized, is, if not exactly treason, yet a grave misdemeanor, and, as such, pun- ishable by law. The arm of the law, too, is long enough to reach Oregon. An armed vessel was sent to the Mulgrave Islands in search of the mutineers of the Globe whaler, and it is but a few days sail from the Mulgrave Islands to the mouth of Columbia river. There is yet another objection to such a course, which we think is insuperable. It would be matter of supererogation to offer Mr. Kelly any information on the subject, as he knows more than we do about it, and would not thank us; but the emigrants shou!d know, if they do not know already, that when it comes to the voje defait, they will not be the strongest party. The Clatsops and Chopunnish are numerous enough to drive them into the Pacific, and if they should prove unable, they can call the Multno.. mahs, Skilloots, Echeloots and Sokulks to their assistance. There is no part of savage America more densely peopled than the banks of the Columbia, and if the natives of Oregon suffer the intruders to sit down in peace and quietness among them, it is more than the latter have any right to expect. Oregon Territory. 131 Our ancestors fled hither to avoid religious persecution, and it was many years before they made good their footing in the land. Every one knows what their sufferings were, and yet they came with more advantages than the emigrants will carry to Oregon. They did not come in carts. They brought with them all that was necessary to procure the comforts if not the luxuries of life. They did not cut themselves off from communion with their friends and connections. The Oregon settlers can, for obvious reasons, carry nothing with them. They are about to put a barrier between themselves and their native land, which cannot be passed and repassed in less than two years, even were there no lions in the path. It may be said that the sea is open to them as it was to their fathers; but it should be remembered that there is a vast difference between a voyage round Cape Horn and one across the Atlantic. Our friends, we fear, are about to attempt to put themselves beyond the reach of human sympathy, aid and protection; and for what? We believe that nobody but Mr. Kelly can tell. For the first season after their arrival in Oregon, the settlers must rely on their guns and fishing tackle; for we are not told that corn grows spontaneously there. No great crop can be expected the second year. They will not have had time to break the soil. If they raise enough to support life they will do well. Thus three years will be ab- solutely wasted before their affairs can possibly begin to be prosperous. The advertisements before mentioned inform the colonists that they can vend their surplus grain in the Asiatic ports; among others, in Japan. Japan I quotha. Some one ought to send Mr. Kelly (whose name appears in full at the bottom of the programma) a copy of Morses Abridgement or Guthries Grammar. He might there learn that there is but one port in the Japanese Isles open, and that only to the Dutch. He might learn that the lower classes of all India subsist solely on veg- etable food, which is so abundant that an individual may live well for about a penny a day. And if grain were not abundant in India, where is there a better soil than that of Hindostan and of the Burman penin- sula? and wherir can manjial labor be procured cheaper? It is really astonishing that one, who has spent the best years of his life in teach- ing others, should be so grossly ignorant of what every merchants clerk knows. Mr. Kellys grain might, indeed, find acceptance in Kamschatka, but unluckily, the Kamschatkadales are too poor to pay for it. Again, the advertisement tells the settlers that they may carry on a profitable trade in lumber with the Spanish American ports of the Pa- cific. Now it so happens that Peru and Chili have lumber of their own, and nearer at hand. Three years ago there was a law in Mexico, and we believe it is still in force, absolutely prohibiting the importation of lumber. It is notorious that several vessels were run ashore in dis- tress, to evade this law. If any one is disposed to take lumber to Spanish America, or grain to Japan, cannot he get a ship built here, and purchase beams, boards and spars in the state of Maine? He could do it cheaper here, and more easily, than by taking his tools, & c. to Oregon to build there. Or, if he has a partiality for Oregon timber, what is to hinder him from doubling Cape Horn and cutting his trees, without thanking Mr. Kelly, or any one? He may get trees in Oregon without crossing the 132 East Rock. continent; but if he goes thither any time within a dozen years to come, in the expectation of loading with grain, we fear that his supply will be as uncertain as his marketin Japan. If any such trade as Mr. Kelly promises can be carried on, how comes it that none of the masters of Northwest Coast vessels have ever made the discovery? And, supposing the possibility of such a trade, how long will it be be- fore the people of Oregon will commence shipbuilding? Not in this generation, we fear. The art belongs to an advanced state of society. We can see no advantage in Oregon which the emigrant may, not secure in the state of Maine. The sea washes the shores of both. The soil is good in both. There are fisheries pertaining to both. If the climate of Oregon is milder, it is not proved that it is better. There is waste land in both. There is plenty of timber in both~ Maine has these advantages. Her inhabitants are under the protection of the laws. They are numerous enough to protect each other. They have free communication with every part of the world. There is no art or science of which she does not possess at least the rudi- ments. All that can be done in Oregon, within a hundred years, is already done in Maine. Above all, she has no Indians to root out with fire and sword, fraudulent treaties, or oppressive enactments. That a party of young, brave, hardy men may cross the continent to the mouth of the Columbia, we know; but that a large body of the inhabitants of New-England, wholly unacquainted with Indian life, and encumbered with baggage and their families, can do so, we hold impossible. We think we have proved that it is so. Our facts cannot be disputed, and the inference is as clear as a geometrical demonstra- tion. We do not know that the prime mover of the folly we have ex- posed is actuated by any evil motive; we do not believe it. - We look upon him as an unfortunate man, who, deluded himself:, is deluding others, and conceive it our duty to warn those who are about to follow him on the road to ruin. To conclude, we advise those who have been so unfortunate as to embark in this enterprise to erase their names from the list as soon as possible. If they cannot retrieve the money they may have advanced, let them consider it better lost, than followed to Oregon, and be thankful that they have so escaped. W. J. S. EAST ROCK. LET not the mountain scorn thy humble height, Our good old Rock! The mountains peak stands lone~ Encased in virgin snow, twixt earth and heaven, And hears the thunder rumbling far beneath, And, belted with the storm-cloud, sees unmoved The quivering lightning threading its thick folds, Changeless itself; saving as Night and Day, Coming and going on their sleepless march, Veil it with shade, or gild it with a crown Of cloudless sunbeams. By its side, thou art But as the rock, its fires have downward hurled, To nestle at its foot. And yet that peak

L. M. N. N., L. M. East Rock Original Papers 132-134

132 East Rock. continent; but if he goes thither any time within a dozen years to come, in the expectation of loading with grain, we fear that his supply will be as uncertain as his marketin Japan. If any such trade as Mr. Kelly promises can be carried on, how comes it that none of the masters of Northwest Coast vessels have ever made the discovery? And, supposing the possibility of such a trade, how long will it be be- fore the people of Oregon will commence shipbuilding? Not in this generation, we fear. The art belongs to an advanced state of society. We can see no advantage in Oregon which the emigrant may, not secure in the state of Maine. The sea washes the shores of both. The soil is good in both. There are fisheries pertaining to both. If the climate of Oregon is milder, it is not proved that it is better. There is waste land in both. There is plenty of timber in both~ Maine has these advantages. Her inhabitants are under the protection of the laws. They are numerous enough to protect each other. They have free communication with every part of the world. There is no art or science of which she does not possess at least the rudi- ments. All that can be done in Oregon, within a hundred years, is already done in Maine. Above all, she has no Indians to root out with fire and sword, fraudulent treaties, or oppressive enactments. That a party of young, brave, hardy men may cross the continent to the mouth of the Columbia, we know; but that a large body of the inhabitants of New-England, wholly unacquainted with Indian life, and encumbered with baggage and their families, can do so, we hold impossible. We think we have proved that it is so. Our facts cannot be disputed, and the inference is as clear as a geometrical demonstra- tion. We do not know that the prime mover of the folly we have ex- posed is actuated by any evil motive; we do not believe it. - We look upon him as an unfortunate man, who, deluded himself:, is deluding others, and conceive it our duty to warn those who are about to follow him on the road to ruin. To conclude, we advise those who have been so unfortunate as to embark in this enterprise to erase their names from the list as soon as possible. If they cannot retrieve the money they may have advanced, let them consider it better lost, than followed to Oregon, and be thankful that they have so escaped. W. J. S. EAST ROCK. LET not the mountain scorn thy humble height, Our good old Rock! The mountains peak stands lone~ Encased in virgin snow, twixt earth and heaven, And hears the thunder rumbling far beneath, And, belted with the storm-cloud, sees unmoved The quivering lightning threading its thick folds, Changeless itself; saving as Night and Day, Coming and going on their sleepless march, Veil it with shade, or gild it with a crown Of cloudless sunbeams. By its side, thou art But as the rock, its fires have downward hurled, To nestle at its foot. And yet that peak East Rock. 133 Swept by the reckless winds, without one flower, Obhrub, or living thing, to lure our hearts Is?leither of the karth nor yet of Heaven. Its wastes are not for us,they are away From our affections, and we may not roam Its trackless crust of snow, driving in fright The hungry vulture from his bootless search Breasting the daring eye and sounding wing Of the old Thunderers bird. We love thee more We more revere thee, Rock, that long hast stood A giant fortress near us; there is more Of earth about thee,for the fresh-cheeked Spring Walks up thy side, and strews, from her gay urn, Where she hath husbanded the last years flowers,~ Unopened buds, that in the Summers beam Hang their bright petals oer thy dizzy edge. On thy tall woods our gorgeous Autumn in s Her vesture, woven of the sun-set hues. Nor shall the rudest blast of Winter blight Thy sturdy evergreens, oerlaid with snow. Thy turf is freshened by the rain and dew Of kindly heaven, and, in the noon-day parched, But for the gales that fan thy naked brow By the broad sunshine, like this lower earth. There is no nook upon thy thorny side, Or wooded top, or on thy steep, bald front, That human foot hath not sought out and found, Linking the spot with human sympathies. Upon thy topmost ledge old Time, perchance, The slow and crafty workman, hath hewn out A homely resting place, and hence the eye, That loveth Nature, looks beyond the stream Lazily creeping through the meadow land In curve fantastic,and beyond the hill Where a bards dwelling dots the wood,beyond The distant temple-spires that lift their tops, In harmony, above the leaf-clad town, Beyond the calm bay and the restless sound, To the blue island, stretching like a cloud Where the sky stoops to earth. The rock is smooth, And here, upon the table-stone, sad youths Have carved unheeded names, to win for them That insect immortality that lies In store for ages on a showmans shelf. Thy peak in moonlight! All the lowland, lighted, Is like a sea about us. Glory rests, Like a saints dream of beauty, over all! T is a strange hour to haunt thee, quiet Rock, And yet, glad voices make thy woods and glades Jocund with echoed call and unchecked laugh, And bright forms flit across thy light and shade Shapes that might win the hasty angels lip From his high vows of purity on earth Threading thy tangled cedars deftly, like The nimblest of Titanias nimble train. I see them clustered in a magic group, And the flutes melody, with womans song, Goes up to heaven. It is thy sweetest dirge, Daughter of Araby! Let it float in air Hushed be my song! L. M. N. NEW-HAVEN, OCT. 1831. VOL. II. 18 k 134 THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST TAkE. NO. iT. IF any man, wilfully or ignorantly, in any manner which can come to my knowledge, shall confound the Autocrat and the individual, the doors of the domestic oracle shall be closed forever. The former ex- ists only in his official capacity. In his place, he is the pivot of a circle; out of it, a peg in a machine. No man can tell how important his neighbor may be in his own secluded sphere. The fair companion of the organ-grinder may have been Prima Donna, for aught we know, in some bare-walled amphitheatre. The individual has his tastes and opinions; the Autocrat his will and pleasure. Professing only to repeat his assertions, once received with reverence, he holds himself no longer responsible for them. All that is dull, all that is untenable, all that is paradoxical, all that is abominable, he utterly deserts and leaves to its fortune. The present, as it stands in the light of existence, traces its outlines in shadow. In youth, when our sun is rising, the shadows stretch for- ward toward the horizon of the future; this is the path of Hope. In age, when our sun is setting, they fall back upon the morning of the past; this is the path of Memory. If you are dealing with a fool, dictate, but never argue, for you will lose your labor and perhaps your temper; if with a bigot, say nothing, or you will certainly lose both. Never dispute with the man who as- serts a paradox; if he does not believe it, he is amusing himself with you; if he does, the same distortion of mind will make him incapable of appreciating his own sophistries or your arguments. If a maxim be the fair result of intelligent experience, it will do well enough, although it may often have an air of pert sagacity; but if it involve opinions instead of facts, it is downright impertinence to give us the aphorism without the reasons. There is a dilute atmosphere of learning, which extends to some distance around a literary institution, almost as bad as the vacuum of ignorance. Within such precincts I would look for the Flat in his most spiritless inanity, and the Bore at the acme of intensity. It is strange, very strange to me, that many men should devote themselves so exclusively to the study of their own particular callings. It seems as if they thought a mind must grow narrow before it can come to a focus. We send our young men abroad to enlarge and modify their notions; but those who stay at home shut themselves up with the primers and catechisms of their professions, until they are stiffened into machines for specific purposes. The knowledge of a man, who confines himself to one object, bears the same relation to that of the liberal scholar, that the red or violet ray of a prism does to the blended light of a sunbeam. I made you a fable the other day; I will try to tell you a story. It was in the course of the last year that a post chaise drove up furi- ously to the door of an inn in a little Russian village. A melancholy looking gentleman got out, went into the house, and called for the landlord. Has the cholera left this place ? said the stranger. The

The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table Original Papers 134-138

134 THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST TAkE. NO. iT. IF any man, wilfully or ignorantly, in any manner which can come to my knowledge, shall confound the Autocrat and the individual, the doors of the domestic oracle shall be closed forever. The former ex- ists only in his official capacity. In his place, he is the pivot of a circle; out of it, a peg in a machine. No man can tell how important his neighbor may be in his own secluded sphere. The fair companion of the organ-grinder may have been Prima Donna, for aught we know, in some bare-walled amphitheatre. The individual has his tastes and opinions; the Autocrat his will and pleasure. Professing only to repeat his assertions, once received with reverence, he holds himself no longer responsible for them. All that is dull, all that is untenable, all that is paradoxical, all that is abominable, he utterly deserts and leaves to its fortune. The present, as it stands in the light of existence, traces its outlines in shadow. In youth, when our sun is rising, the shadows stretch for- ward toward the horizon of the future; this is the path of Hope. In age, when our sun is setting, they fall back upon the morning of the past; this is the path of Memory. If you are dealing with a fool, dictate, but never argue, for you will lose your labor and perhaps your temper; if with a bigot, say nothing, or you will certainly lose both. Never dispute with the man who as- serts a paradox; if he does not believe it, he is amusing himself with you; if he does, the same distortion of mind will make him incapable of appreciating his own sophistries or your arguments. If a maxim be the fair result of intelligent experience, it will do well enough, although it may often have an air of pert sagacity; but if it involve opinions instead of facts, it is downright impertinence to give us the aphorism without the reasons. There is a dilute atmosphere of learning, which extends to some distance around a literary institution, almost as bad as the vacuum of ignorance. Within such precincts I would look for the Flat in his most spiritless inanity, and the Bore at the acme of intensity. It is strange, very strange to me, that many men should devote themselves so exclusively to the study of their own particular callings. It seems as if they thought a mind must grow narrow before it can come to a focus. We send our young men abroad to enlarge and modify their notions; but those who stay at home shut themselves up with the primers and catechisms of their professions, until they are stiffened into machines for specific purposes. The knowledge of a man, who confines himself to one object, bears the same relation to that of the liberal scholar, that the red or violet ray of a prism does to the blended light of a sunbeam. I made you a fable the other day; I will try to tell you a story. It was in the course of the last year that a post chaise drove up furi- ously to the door of an inn in a little Russian village. A melancholy looking gentleman got out, went into the house, and called for the landlord. Has the cholera left this place ? said the stranger. The The Autocrat of tke Breakfast Table. 135 Lord forbid, said the landlord,for he only understood one dreadful word in the sentence, which was spoken in French. The question was made intelligible. It has been gone a fortnight. In what di- rection ? Toward the north. The host left the room, and the stranger soliloquized. Cruel, cruel, cruel Heloise! Will thy voice be sadder or thy step less buoyant when I am sleeping beneath the frozen clods of this desolate soil? Will the winds from the ice-girt mountains whisper in thine ear one broken vow, or the black waters of the Volga roll to thy feet one faithless token ? He said a good deal more in this strain, but French sentiment makes English fustian. He then sat down, and, taking a portfolio from his trunk, wrote the follow- ing letter Mv DEAR JACQUES, Knowing as you do my fixed determination not to survive the blight of my ill starred affection, you will receive pleasure (grand plaisir, in the French) in learn- ing that I am within sight of my destiny. I am in daily hope of coming up with the cholera, which I have been endeavoring to overtake for some weeks. If I should meet with the fate for which I am languishing, tell my destroyer that I was the victim of her disdain. The stone which is to mark ~eplace of my re- pose, I had executed some time since, and have carried with me in the bottom of the chaise. The device is Love taking the scythe from Time to cut down a pas- sion-flower. The inscription is simple, but I hope not less elegant than one which would have been disagreeably expensive. Amant. Etranger. Cruel, cruel, cruel Heloise Will thy voice, & c. There is no need of repeating this sentence, although it seemed to be a favorite with its author. A few directions concerning his effects were added, but nobody cares for such things unless their names are in the codicil. The poor gentleman dropped his letter, and the land- lord showed it to me when I was in Russia. About ten days from this time he came up with the cholera, and a month afterwards, by a strange coincidence, I found myself cracking a filbert on his gravestone. I remember I hit my thumb, which was unpleasant, and broke a little bit out of the Cupid, whic~h was unfeeling. Now, suppose, instead of telling this singular tale while you were finishing your first cups of coffee, I had felt the inclination to make a long story of it, and send it to a periodical. I think I have a practi- cable plan to stretch this or any thing like it into a tolerable length. Write down your facts, leaving after each an interval of two, four, or six times its own space. Shuffle in descriptions, reflections and discur- sions, as may be appropriate and convenient. There is nothing like system for a hack writer. Liberal stuffing will bolster out any thing; you may cram a starveling until he would split the jacket of Hercules. I will relate to you an incident or two that I witnessed at the last execution. The hideous mummery of the Galvanic experiments had been going on some time, and, as I went from the building into the prison yard, an old black domestic of the institution came in the same direction. He was talking to himself, and I heard exactly these words. Ah! They may kill, but they cannot make alive! Just like the eel in the hot fat ! A divine might make a more awkward reflection, and a physiologist a less accurate comparison. Some of my acquaintances were standing in a little knot under the wall of one of the granite buildings. The face at the loop-hole above them was that of Trask, the 136 The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. murderer. I looked at him with no little interest, for I remember that once, when he made his escape, the rattling of a bolt always followed the mention of his name. I do hate to trust myself in description, for fear I shall fall into the cant of the graphic school~ The voice, the mouth, the eye, are enough to characterize a man. Trask spoke in a tone of almost querulous monotony, such as a man is apt to get into when he is reading loud from the Bible. The baby vacuity of his smile gave it the look of a mere bodily change, of which the soul was unconscious; a habit and not an impulse. His eye, as nearly as I could tell, of a misty gray, was fixed and calm, but it seemed to convey no more perception to his mind than if he had been talking with a phan- tom. When the springs that supply the soul are all cut off~ for a little while, her dark waters heave vainly against their barriers, and then hush themselves into stillness and blackness. A few hidden fountains may break up and pour themselves into her bosom; but day by day her circle is narrowing, and the depths, once covered, lie bare in their deso- lation. The chained felon, whose intercourse with the world is but a sullen visit and a casual word, to whom the mighty universe has for long years sent no token but a ray of light and a breath of air, through a crevice, and who can hope for no more until death dissolves his fetters, I cannot pass without a thought, if I am too fastidious for sympathy. I had some more to say, but I am hungry. How a man might torment his friends with recollections of silly things they said and did before him when he was a child! When I rake over my budget of reminiscences I feel as if I were handling a quiver full of arrows. Why, 1 can repeat to you three words, spoken ever so many years ago, in themselves meaningless, and yet they shall make a learned professor as red as the mark of a bastinado. Drink as much as you please before your grandfather, but mind whom you kiss before your little brother. There is but one step from the sublime to the ridiculous, but that step is taken from a precipice. The ridiculous, accumulated to a cer- tain extent, towers into sublimity. It becomes a pure inward feeling, which does not admit of being dethroned by an outward convulsion. If all men had been born deaf, there would have been more thinking and less fighting. War could never drive his chariot in silence. When I feel inclined to read poetry I take down my Dictionary. The poetry of words is quite as beautiful as that of sentences. The author may arrange the gems effectively, but their shape and lustre have bee9 given by the attrition of ages. Bring me the finest simile from the whole range of imaginative writing, and I will show you a single word which conveys a more profound, a more accurate, and a more eloquent analogy. Women were once depreciated and degraded; it is neither a new nor a harsh assertion to say that they are now often misplaced and over-educated. I had rather write a dozen pages with one of Mr. Perrys patent perfectionated pens, than dabble for one evening with a patent perfectionated paragon. People talk about all minds being born equal. We must argue from what we do know to what we do not know, or say nothing about it. If the top of a child is above water, the bottom of a child is probably below it. If woman, while we The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. 137 can observe her, is the weaker vessel, it proves nothing to conjecture that she was made of the same clay. Her physical inferiority makes her dependent. If, with her weakness, she had the ambition of man, it would be in violation of the general harmony of nature; if she have not the ambition, there is no reason to suppose she has the mental power which would lie idle without it. A champion began about Madame de Stael and the influence of education upon bodily strength. A natural law is not disproved by a pickled monster. What becomes of the influence of education, when applied to the heifer and her lordly spouse? It is a capital plan to carry a tablet with you, and, when you find yourself felicitous, take notes of your own conversation. A man cannot always tell whether his ideas are stolen or not. We take a thought that we love, and nurse it like a babe in our bosom, and, if it looks pretty when it has grown older, we flatter ourselves that it has the family countenance. An old people swallows the gilded bait of prescription; a new one springs at the hare hook of novelty. Shelley vaporized every thing in his glowing crucible, but there was gold at the bottom of it. When I look at him, spreading the starry wings of his fancy over his chaotic philosophy, he seems like a seraph hovering over the unfathomable chasm whose blackness is the abode of demons. You know what Wordsworths notions of common-life poetry are. They have often led him into beautiful and little-trodden paths; still, I cannot but think many of his solemnities on trifling subjects are not much more than parody walking backwards. A man may s~ick nectar through a straw, but not if he dips it into buttermilk. A successful author must be careful, or he will imitate himself. After one has put a shot through the target, he will lose his labor if he fire through the hole. I have seen Mr. Allstons Spalatro and Schedone. The morning I was there was cloudy, and one of the most singular things imaginable happened. At a little distance, the shade fell so deeply on the eye of Schedone that it appeared closed; as I approached, and saw more clearly, it opened with an almost supernatural illusion. When I found that a slight movement of the liody produced this alternation, I could believe some apocryphal stories. Speaking of such matters, I read something odd the other day. Casaubon, treating of Precatory Enthusiasme, says, that Saint Somebody was so earnest at his devotions, that sometimes his spirit would lift his body three or four feet from the earth. When a man is addressing an audience, it is dangerous to quote any thing much beyond his own calibre. I remember two sentences in two performances delivered at different places, where the authors were guilty of this mistake. The quotations were, doubtless, marked as such in the manuscripts, but of this the hearers were of course uncon- scious. Each of them was the only thing I remembered from the whole affair; one of them I never suspected at the time, and traced through Cowper up to Shakspeare long after; the other was so much too heavy a ball for the gentlemans swivel, that I investigated the matter immediately. 138 Commodore Tucker. A bad satire, made up of prejudice and personal feeling, is a terrible thing; for the ill-natured will love it for its malignity, and the envious applaud it for its injustice, and the imbecile believe it for its audacity. After all, common sense is better than erratic genius. I pique my- self on the following practical remark :One should never buy rights and lefts, because if one has ones leg cut off, the odd shoe will be of no use to him. I believe that was the substance of all I said the other morning. COMMODORE TUCKER. IT is quite generally true, that the individuals who distinguished themselves in the army of the revolution, however indifferently recom- pensed for their services and sacrifices at the time, or in hard cash, have had little reason to complain of the public favor extended towards their names and their memories. On the contrary, they have been, as they deserved to be, cherished and caressed. The Commander in Chief had scarcely divested himself of the circumstance of war, when he was called upon by the unanimous voice of the people, to assume the highest civil office in their gift. His General of Artillery was made Secretary of War; one of his Aids was placed at the head of another grand department under his administration; and similar transfers, in a word, of military for political distinctions, of arms for the toga, were made or permitted to be made in every sphere and stage of all the gov- ernments and sub-governments in the country. From that period down to the successive elections of the two last Presidents, the leaning of public partiality has beem uniformly in the same direction. Many a veteran has been called a second time from his plough, to fight in the councils of the nation as he fought before in the field; and many a gray-haired soldier of the War of Independence is pointed out by his countrymen, as Bonaparte assured his troops the children of Frenchmen should one day say of them There goes a soldier of the Army of Italy ! Such, we say, has their career generally been. But there have been and are exceptions to the remarkeven in regard to the army; and the lists of the early navy, could they be fully unrolled, would present still more. By the Navy of the Revolution, we mean, of course, such navy as we hadnot an organized and ponderous force, sweeping the seas proudly, as now, under the starred flag of the Unionnot a regu- lar federal establishment of any description which the Congress or the country were not ashamed to acknowledge as suchbut, nevertheless, a navy which performed more than it promised, and excited more am prehension in the enemy than hope in the breasts of those who pro- jected it. Its organization was designed, without skill and without science, by men who knew little more of what it should be, and of what it was in the mother country, than they did of the system of the English standing army. In reality, it was not so much constituted at all, such as it was, by the government, as contributed by the energy

Commodore Tucker Original Papers 138-145

138 Commodore Tucker. A bad satire, made up of prejudice and personal feeling, is a terrible thing; for the ill-natured will love it for its malignity, and the envious applaud it for its injustice, and the imbecile believe it for its audacity. After all, common sense is better than erratic genius. I pique my- self on the following practical remark :One should never buy rights and lefts, because if one has ones leg cut off, the odd shoe will be of no use to him. I believe that was the substance of all I said the other morning. COMMODORE TUCKER. IT is quite generally true, that the individuals who distinguished themselves in the army of the revolution, however indifferently recom- pensed for their services and sacrifices at the time, or in hard cash, have had little reason to complain of the public favor extended towards their names and their memories. On the contrary, they have been, as they deserved to be, cherished and caressed. The Commander in Chief had scarcely divested himself of the circumstance of war, when he was called upon by the unanimous voice of the people, to assume the highest civil office in their gift. His General of Artillery was made Secretary of War; one of his Aids was placed at the head of another grand department under his administration; and similar transfers, in a word, of military for political distinctions, of arms for the toga, were made or permitted to be made in every sphere and stage of all the gov- ernments and sub-governments in the country. From that period down to the successive elections of the two last Presidents, the leaning of public partiality has beem uniformly in the same direction. Many a veteran has been called a second time from his plough, to fight in the councils of the nation as he fought before in the field; and many a gray-haired soldier of the War of Independence is pointed out by his countrymen, as Bonaparte assured his troops the children of Frenchmen should one day say of them There goes a soldier of the Army of Italy ! Such, we say, has their career generally been. But there have been and are exceptions to the remarkeven in regard to the army; and the lists of the early navy, could they be fully unrolled, would present still more. By the Navy of the Revolution, we mean, of course, such navy as we hadnot an organized and ponderous force, sweeping the seas proudly, as now, under the starred flag of the Unionnot a regu- lar federal establishment of any description which the Congress or the country were not ashamed to acknowledge as suchbut, nevertheless, a navy which performed more than it promised, and excited more am prehension in the enemy than hope in the breasts of those who pro- jected it. Its organization was designed, without skill and without science, by men who knew little more of what it should be, and of what it was in the mother country, than they did of the system of the English standing army. In reality, it was not so much constituted at all, such as it was, by the government, as contributed by the energy Commodore Tucker. 139 and the enterprise of individuals. It comprised not such ships as had struck the flag of the Santissima Trinidada, nor royal men-of-war, nor steam-frigates, nor gun-boatsbut coasting and fishing vessels made belligerent, and sailors made soldiers, with about as much effect as the old hangers and firelocks, pitch-forks, hay-forks and eel-spears of the yeomanry on land were converted into weapons of battle, slaughter and siege. It was privateers, picaroons, pirate-boats and pilot-boats, arks, kegs, torpedoes, and any and every other machine, infernal or not, which the ingenuity of individuals could contrive or construct, manned by Long-Tom-Coffins, and commanded by whalemen, Ilshermen and skippers. It was not so much as a guerrilla warfare upon the seas for there was neither combination nor cooperation about itit was more like Tyrolese or Indian warfare. And yet, as we have already intimated, this motley force effected wonders; and the more, perhaps, that its very insignificance made it contemptible,like the awkward apparatus of the land-force in many instances,in the eyes of a well-equiped, disciplined and numerous enemy. Hence a good deal of the British stores was exposed unnec- essarily in its transportation; and hence a great number of prizes were captured, before suspicion was excited that we had any intention, or any ability or opportunity to embarrass them upon the ocean. Gen- eral Gage boasted that with five thousand staunch regulars, he would drive the whole American army, raised or to be raised, from one end of the continent to the other; and many of the military portion, at least, of his countrymen, seemed to put confidence in his promise. They pretermitted the essential consideration that a manan English- maneven an English regular, might possibly be run through with a rusty bayonet, or suffer by a bullet from a Queen Annes musket, though the same were eight feet long, and had killed Indians and blackbirds. As for the navy, said they, there was none at all, and never was or would be. Not so much as a Chinese junk could be found in the country; and the Americans could no more manage a decent vessel, if they shQuld ever see one, than they could raise a siege without powder, or fight a battle with harpoons. With such an opinion of such an adversary, they were, of course, liable to be taken, and were taken, by surprise. Many of their trans- ports were captured, with large quantities of amunition and ordnance on boardarticles of the most essential importance, and some of which could be obtained for a long time, in no other way: (we find it recorded in the old journals of the Philadelphia Congress, that the Marine Com- mittee reported upon a project for building thirteen frigates, to the effect that all the materials for making them serviceable against the enemy might be procured within the states, with the exception of can- vass and powder.) And the moral effect of the mere conquest or capture in these cases, was incalculably beneficial to the American cause. It proved that the foe, proud and powerful as he was, was not invincible even upon his own favorite element; and it opened a wide field for the ambition and the activity of large numbers of patriotic citizens,in- cluding such as had previously engaged in navigation and the fisheries who would otherwise have remained nearly inactive. Among these men, were Hopkins, Whipple, Waters, Manly, McNeil, Nicholson, John Paul Jones, and many others, mostly natives of the 140 Commodore Tucker. small maritime towns in this country, and generally brought up in the merchant service. The fame of some of these individuals, and espe- cially of Jones, is cherished to this day. But the exploits and the very names of others, scarcely less worthy of honorable remembrance, are well nigh forgotten. The same circumstances which made their ser~ vices the more valuable to their country, and more creditable to them- selves, have been the cause of their being unnoticed and unknown. The only surviving Commodore of the Revolution, we believe, is SAMUEL TUCKER, of Bremen, in the State of Maine; and the fortunes of this venerable and hardy veteran are a striking confirmation of our last remark. In his own section of the country, indeed, he is gene- rally as he is honorably known. But who knows of his existence else.. where, if we except a few aged individuals who were formerly his com- rades? And yet the achievements of the gallant Commodore would fill a. volume. We positively believe that more was done by and under him, towards the accomplishment of our national independence, and still more of our naval reputation, than most people suppose to have been done by the whole navy of the republic during the whole period of the war. The fact is well substantiated, for example, that he struck nearly eighty of the enemys flags, and we have heard him mention the precise number of guns capturedit was something over five hundred. There are more reasons than one, why the history of such a man should be preserved; and it is much to be regretted, that, not only so little is known of it, but so little likely to be known. The memory of the Commodore is remarkably fresh for his age,fbr he is now eighty- fourbut this circumstance, however gratifying to himself:, and pleas- ant to the friends who visit him, will be of small avail to the next gen- eration. No entreaty has yet prevailed upon him to record, or suffer to be recorded, for the public eye, the adventures of his early life. Of course, only such particulars can be furnished by others, either con- sistently or conveniently, as are matter of general notoriety among his neighbors, and of usual remark in the conversation with which he is always ready to entertain strangers and guests. He was a native of Marblehead in this state; and was born on the first of November, 1747, 0. S. His father and grandfather, and we know not how many more of his ancestors, were brought up to a sea life. His brothers, two of them older, and two younger than himself:, all engaged in the same favorite occupation of the family and the place, and were all distinguished for activity, bravery and hardihood. Of the place we say; for it is well known that the very first settlers of this ancient townincorporated as early as 1649engaged actively in the cod-fishery, and were carriers, to a great extent, for the residue of the province, if not for other sections of the country. The public es- timate set upon the navigation of Marblehead, in 1728, may be inferred from a Legislative Act of the year, appropriating the large sum of one thousand three hundred and twenty-eight pounds for repairs necessary to prevent the encroachments of the sea upon the harbor, on the south- west side of the Isthmus. It is hardly more than forty years, since a thousand pounds were raised by lotteries, under the same authority, for the same purpose. In 1766, there were between thirty and forty ships, brigs, snows and topsail schooners, employed by the people of Marble- head in the foreign trade. The population of the place and its prov Commodore Tucker. 141 ince tax, at this period, were second only to those of Boston. And as to its numbers and opulencewe learn from an old sermon preached at the ordination of the Rev. Mr. Hubbard in 1781, it swarmed with inhabitant; was a pattern of industry, flourished in trade, and abounded with wealth. In this mart of enterprise and bustle was Tucker educated, from his infancy, in the habits which were most popular among his numerous companions. He was born, it would seem, at a fortunate period for his morals; for the same ancient writer, who records without reservation that the Marblehead people, early in this century, were generally a rude, swearing, drunken and fighting crewas many in such a place always areadds, that as they increased in numbers, they made im- provements in social life, in virtue and good morals. Again, by Ike middle of the century, the manners of the people were so much culti- vated, as to be remarkable for their civilities, and especially for their hospitality to strangers. There were not only gentlemanlike families, and pious and well-behaved people in the town, but the very fishermen rose superior to the rudeness of the former generations. Those who have had the pleasure of knowing Commodore Tucker at any period of his life, and especially such as have had occasion to avail themselves of his hospitality, will readily agree that the compliments here bestow- ed upon his fellow townsmen are confirmed and illustrated in himself. We have never met, elsewhere, with so striking a specimen of the frank, cordial, cheerful, soldierly manner of the old school. Of the particulars of his early life upon the seas, we have, unfortunately, little definite knowledge. It is known, however, that he commenced in boyhood the career which he. has continued through the last three principal wars of the country; and that he has actually been in hard service about thirty years. At eleven he was placed on board a Brit- ish frigate, and here was probably the only opportunity which he ever enjoyed, of learning the higher technicalities of his profe~sion. It was not long continued, but he used it to the best advantage. Subsequently to the French war, which terminated formally in 1763, Tucker, who was then sixteen years of age, is understood to have en- gaged actively in the merchant service, and to have acquired already a good part of the reputation which he afterwards so brilliantly confirm- ed. The breaking out of the Revolutionary War gave a new scope to his patriotism and his energy ;he entered into it with his whole soul; and, as we have already seen, his exertions were by no means unat- tended with success. It was not long, indeed, before his name became a terror to the small craft of the enemy. Jones himself was not farther known nor more feared; and special expeditions were actually projected, and special instructions given, for the apprehension of this fearless and indefatigable Yankee Captainthis Robin Hood of the Ocean every where present in attack, but no where visible or accessible in retreat or reprisal. The opinion entertained of him by the best and wisest men in the country, at this time, may be conjectured from the tenor of certain Resolutions adopted by the Continental Congress. In the Journal for 1777, we find it recorded, March 15, that the Marine Committee reported That there are several fine prize-vessels in the State of Mas- sachusetts Bay, very suitable for the service of the continent, and which VOL. it. 19 142 Commodore Tucker. may be fitted out at small expense; and that Captain Daniel Waters and Captain Samuel Tucker, who were early employed by General Wash- ington in cruising vessels, and were very successful, and strongly re- commended by the General and others, are, in their opinion, [that of the Committee] proper to be appointed to the command of two of them. Immediately upon this report being made, votes were passed by which the Committee were empowered to purchase three of the vessels above mentioned. Waters and Tucker were selected to take charge of two, and the other was directed to be given to John Paul Jones, until something better can be found for him. It cannot be expected of us, we think, to produce better evidence of the high estimation in which Tucker was held by the most illustrious ofhiscountrymen. We should by no means omit to mention, however, that he was selected to carry out Mr. Adams, our first Minister to France. The negociations which were to be prosecuted with that government were well known to be of the most important and even critical nature. The enemy took vigilant measures, accordingly, to intercept the proposed movement; and the ship which conveyed the Minister had scarcely weighed anchor, when a fleet of British cruisers of all descriptions, was in pursuit of her. We regret our inability to detail any of the singular adventures of this memorable voyage. It is well known, that the Commander acquitted himself to the entire satisfaction of those who entrusted him with their confidence, either defeating or eluding his adversary in all cases. On one occasion, it is said, when an action was growing close and warm with a British vessel, and a good deal of bustle was made upon the Commodores deck, Mr. Adams came up from his cabin abruptly, seized a musket, and engaged in the contest with all the zeal of an old soldier. But this was a hazardous species of service, which the Commodore could not permit. He requested Mr. Adams to retire to his proper positionthe Minister hesitated, and perhaps expostulated but the old veteran knew his duty better, and he ordered him per- emptorily to go below. The danger to which this expedition was exposed may be conjec- tured from the fact, that the Commander kept his appropriate station upon deck for about seventy hours in succession, at one time, during a hot chase by a superior force of the enemy. Even then, nothing short of the repeated solicitation of Mr. Adams himself, could induce him to leave his post. The Minister sent for him to go belowhe wished to convince him of the necessity of rest and refreshment. The Commo- dore obeyed, as in duty bound. Nature was exhausted; for in the midst of the conversation, he nodded and dozed upon the cock-pit table. The few hours sleep which he then allowed himself in his birth, he says, was like the sleep of death. A forty-two pounder at his side would not have waked him. On this and many other occasions, Commodore Tucker had the good fortune to make the acquaintance and secure the respect of the most eminent and influential personages of his time. Mr. Adams re- tained a cordial and intimate friendship for him to the last hours of his life; and the same relations, we believe, are kept up to this day, by his son, the late President. He was on board the vessel just spoken of, with his father, at the age of about eleven. He has not for- gotten the kindness and the courage which protected him; nor is the Commodore Tucker. 143 Commodore on the other hand, as we can safely attest, likely to for- get him. Washington, we have already shown, was well acquainted with our hero, and put early and implicit confidence in him. The latter occasionally speaks of a week which he passed on shore, during the Revoh~tion, in the Oenerals company. It was at Morristown. Wash- ingtons custom, it seems, was to visit the lines of his little army, reg- ularly once every day; and he invited his naval guest to go the rounds, while he remaijied, with himself and his suite. The compli- ments passed upon his horsemanship, on this occasion, are still very fresh in the Commodores memory. The General was an observing as well as a polite man, and he thought his friend Tucker the best rider he had ever met withfor a seaman. He was well acquainted with John Paul Joneswho, by the way, was only eight days older than himself, and was in some respects, a man of similar talent and temperament. The worst point about Jones was, that he treated his men too roughly. Commodore Tucker, though in no degree wanting in decision or good discipline, knew better how to mingle the gentleman with the seaman and the soldier. At least, he never lost the command of himself in the attempt to command others. But Jones was a brave and useful man, though his apprenticeship in the coal trade,which was no fault of his,did leave a black mark or two upon his manners. Commodore Tucker did not lie altogether idle during the late war with Great-Britain. Though considerably advanced in years when it commenced, one of his exploitswhich happened, we believe, towards the close of itmay afford a tolerable specimen of what his life would be, could the materials of it be collected. The shipping of Bristol, which then comprised Bremen, as well as that of the coast generally, was much annoyed by the cruisers of the enemy,sometimes by men of war, and sometimes by their tenders and boats. The celebrated ac- tion between the Enterprise and Boxer took place in this vicinity. A fast-sailing, sharp-built little tender to the British frigate Rattler was another thorn in the side of the people upon this coast. Not a coaster could venture out from a creek, for several months, but the foe was down upon him, with all sails set, and some half a dozen guns run out on each side, like a cat with her long claws arrayed for a mouse. Matters went so far, at last, that a number of the inhabitants of Bris- tol,most of them seamen, and some of them veterans,determined upon taking prompt measures for repelling the invader. It being as- certained, one Sunday, that the tender was not fi~r distant, prowling among the indentations of the Pemaquid coast, an agreement was drawn up forthwith, whereby the subscribers bound themselves to prosecute together the common object of retaliation. By this company, forty-five in number, Tucker was elected commander of the expedition, and summoned accordingly to make his appearance on the spot. The old veteran was willing and ready. He mounted his equipments, and started off for a neighboring town, several miles distant, to obtain a commission. This being effected, arid the volunteers being mustered, the Commodore plied them with a stirring though brief harangue. My brave boys, concluded he, you have signed this paper, it is true, but I wish no man to go on compulsion. You have had time to 144 Commodore Tucker reflect more maturely on your project, and now, if there is one among you who had rather not go than go, let him speak. 1~ such man should be one of us. One individual, only, availed hiwi~I1fof this in- dulgence,a poor fellow who afterwards died of m#o *p, as his comrades believed, at the battle of Plattsburg. t~~1~idue of the company were furious for the cruise, and, a wood-~~i~~ag fitted up for the purpose, they sailed on the same day. *~n additional force with two pieces of cannon, was taken on board soon after, but the enemy was no where to be found, and the reinforcement was dis- missed. The sloop itself, after scouring the coast in vain, for a day or two, was on its return to Bristol, when, just as they doubled Pemaquid Point, the tender hove in sight. The vessels approached each other rapidly. The Commodore ordered most of his men, meanwhile, to station themselves upon the wood in the hold of his sloop, out of sight, but ready for a call at any moment. On coming within pistol-shot, he run up the American flag and fired a musket. The tender hoisted a British ensign and responded with a nine-pounder, fearing, of course, no resistance from a craft manned only with the ragged and sorry complement of a wood-coaster. But just at this moment the Commo- dore called for~his men with a voice of thunder. The deck was cov- ered with them in a twinkling, and a tremendous discharge of musketry poured into the enemy. In a few minutes not a man was visible on board the tender, and the only symptom of life left, was the hat of the Captain occasionally peering over the quarter..rail as he lay, steering or attempting to steer, flat on his back. It was soon ascer- tained that he was ready to surrender, but had no means of hauling down his flag; his men were ensconced below, and he dared not him- self venture among the shower of balls which rattled in the rigging over his head like a hail-storm. This matter being adjusted by shoot- ing down the flag, the tender was boarded and made prize, together with several excellent carriage-guns, and twenty-five men. These were forwarded to Wiscasset fort. But the conqueror himself; in the chiv- alric spirit which always characterized him, took the British command- er with him to his own house, and entertained him like a prince, till he could be regularly returned as a prisoner of war to the proper au- thorities, and discharged from confinement on his parole. Not a man was killed or wounded on either side. The wood-coasters showed what they might have done, however, by boring the Captains hat through several times on his head, and by firing three hundred and seventy bullets through his mainsail. Such was our heros last exploit. Since that time he has reposed upon his laurels, enjoying the friendship and respect of all who know him, and preparing himself quietly for the last voyage which awaits him. He has been several times a member of the Legislature of Mas- sachusetts and Maine; and, so late as his eightieth year, presided at a large County Convention called in favor of his young friend and fel- low passenger, John Quincy Adams. His faculties of mind and body are remarkably vigorous for his years. His patriotism and his enthu- siasm for his own profession are as vivid as ever. You have served your country in three wars, said a visiter to him not long since, do you flatter yourself you could command a ship now, should you be called upon,or would that mutinous limb (a rheumatic grievance) of The Hermitage of Candu. 145 yours be an obstacle? Sir,said the old veteran, riveting his sharp eye upon the querist, and raising his voice Sir, wherever I had the honor to commandin my daymen-of-war were furnished with chairs. I trust, Sir, that one might be found now. THE HERMITAGE OF CANDU. AN ORIENTAL TALE. [The following tale forms, in its original shape, an episode in the ancient Hin- du Poem, called the Brama Purana. The entire work has never been translated into any European language. The extract which is here offered to the reader, was translated from the original Sanscrit into French, by M. de Cinzy, of the French Academy, and from the manuscript of this version into German ,by the well known scholar and critic, A. W. Von Schlegel. Thi~ German translation was published by Schlegel in his Journal, entitled the Indian Library, and is the one from which we have made the following translation. We are not aware that the poem has ever appeared in printinaFrench or English dress. After passing through two intermediate languages, it can hardly be supposed, that it will exhibit the ex- act shape and color which it wears in the original; but even in this form, it will probably be regarded as a curious specimen of the lighter style of Oriental litera- ture. It is introduced by Schlegel with several pages of critical remarks, from which we make a short extract. The following Poem is taken from an unpublished Sanscrit manuscript in the Royal Librar at aris. The graceful ease and sportive humor which distinguish it, will recommend it at once to readers of taste, Although it was originally an episode in a larger work, it nevertheless forms of itself a con~plete poem. There are many narratives of a similar description to be found in the Sanscrit writers, and they frequent~, as in the present instance, turn upon the inconveniences to which literary men are exposed by giving way to the seductions of the tender passion; but the subject has seldom been treated in a more agreable manner, than it is in the following story. It may be proper to remark by way of introduction, and in explanation of the fable, that although indra, the ruler of the gods in the Hindu Mythology, has many traits of character in con~mon with the Greek Jupiter, he does not possess his power by quite so certain a tenure. Jupiter, when his dominion was invaded by the Titans, succeeded in repulsiiig them, and, having banished them to Tarta- rus, has reigned ever since in complete security. But Indra is so situated, that he would be compelled, by invincible Destiny, and the decree of the unchangeable Brama, to surrender his celestial sceptre to any devout person, who could make out a title to it, by performing more severe acts of penance than those by which he himself originally acquiredit. It is easy to conceive thit this circumstance must be a constant source of disquiet at the Court of Indra,ind must diminish very considerably the satisfaction which he would otherwise derive from the means of enjoyment by which he is surrounded. It is accordingly understood, that in the midst of the exquisite music and airy dances which constantly divert his leisure, he often casts a look upon the earth, in order to watch the progress of the most remarkable hermits and other devotees. When he sees any one among them particularly pre-eminent, and to all appearance in a fair way to attain the prize, Indra immediately despatches one of the most attractive of his attendant nymphs to seduce him, if possible, from the path of duty. If the hermit yield, as too often happens,to her allurements, he loses all the fruit of his previous labors; and Indra is left for a time to enjoy his power in undisturbed security. Such were the means employed by this Prince of the Hindu gods about three thousand years ago, on the banks of the river Gomati, to defeat the ambition of the hermit Candu, as is briefly set forth in the following tale.] ON the consecrated banks of the river Gomati, in a solitary wood pro- ducing fruits and flowers of every kind, where nothing was heard but

The Hermitage of Candu. An Oriental Tale Original Papers 145-149

The Hermitage of Candu. 145 yours be an obstacle? Sir,said the old veteran, riveting his sharp eye upon the querist, and raising his voice Sir, wherever I had the honor to commandin my daymen-of-war were furnished with chairs. I trust, Sir, that one might be found now. THE HERMITAGE OF CANDU. AN ORIENTAL TALE. [The following tale forms, in its original shape, an episode in the ancient Hin- du Poem, called the Brama Purana. The entire work has never been translated into any European language. The extract which is here offered to the reader, was translated from the original Sanscrit into French, by M. de Cinzy, of the French Academy, and from the manuscript of this version into German ,by the well known scholar and critic, A. W. Von Schlegel. Thi~ German translation was published by Schlegel in his Journal, entitled the Indian Library, and is the one from which we have made the following translation. We are not aware that the poem has ever appeared in printinaFrench or English dress. After passing through two intermediate languages, it can hardly be supposed, that it will exhibit the ex- act shape and color which it wears in the original; but even in this form, it will probably be regarded as a curious specimen of the lighter style of Oriental litera- ture. It is introduced by Schlegel with several pages of critical remarks, from which we make a short extract. The following Poem is taken from an unpublished Sanscrit manuscript in the Royal Librar at aris. The graceful ease and sportive humor which distinguish it, will recommend it at once to readers of taste, Although it was originally an episode in a larger work, it nevertheless forms of itself a con~plete poem. There are many narratives of a similar description to be found in the Sanscrit writers, and they frequent~, as in the present instance, turn upon the inconveniences to which literary men are exposed by giving way to the seductions of the tender passion; but the subject has seldom been treated in a more agreable manner, than it is in the following story. It may be proper to remark by way of introduction, and in explanation of the fable, that although indra, the ruler of the gods in the Hindu Mythology, has many traits of character in con~mon with the Greek Jupiter, he does not possess his power by quite so certain a tenure. Jupiter, when his dominion was invaded by the Titans, succeeded in repulsiiig them, and, having banished them to Tarta- rus, has reigned ever since in complete security. But Indra is so situated, that he would be compelled, by invincible Destiny, and the decree of the unchangeable Brama, to surrender his celestial sceptre to any devout person, who could make out a title to it, by performing more severe acts of penance than those by which he himself originally acquiredit. It is easy to conceive thit this circumstance must be a constant source of disquiet at the Court of Indra,ind must diminish very considerably the satisfaction which he would otherwise derive from the means of enjoyment by which he is surrounded. It is accordingly understood, that in the midst of the exquisite music and airy dances which constantly divert his leisure, he often casts a look upon the earth, in order to watch the progress of the most remarkable hermits and other devotees. When he sees any one among them particularly pre-eminent, and to all appearance in a fair way to attain the prize, Indra immediately despatches one of the most attractive of his attendant nymphs to seduce him, if possible, from the path of duty. If the hermit yield, as too often happens,to her allurements, he loses all the fruit of his previous labors; and Indra is left for a time to enjoy his power in undisturbed security. Such were the means employed by this Prince of the Hindu gods about three thousand years ago, on the banks of the river Gomati, to defeat the ambition of the hermit Candu, as is briefly set forth in the following tale.] ON the consecrated banks of the river Gomati, in a solitary wood pro- ducing fruits and flowers of every kind, where nothing was heard but 146 The Hermitage of Candu. the melody of singing birds, and no animal intruded, except at times a stray deer or a timid antelope, remote from the bustle of the world, was found the quiet Hermitage of Candu. In this delicious retreat, the holy man gave himself up without inter- mission to exercises of the severest penance. The methods which are commonly employed to mortify the flesh, such as frequent fasts, ablu- tions, prayers and privations, appeared to him little better than actual indulgencies, and he resorted habitually to others of a much more painful kind. In the heat of summer, he was wont to kindle four e- normous fires, and to place himself in the central point between them, with his bare head exposed to the sun. In the rainy season, he would stretch himself upon the wet ground; and in winter, when his limbs were shivering with cold, he would cover them with nothing but damp clothes. These, and a thousand other acts of penance, severe enough to ob- tain for him the dominion of the three worlds, were witnessed with wonder by the Devas, the Gandhavas, and the other subaltern divini- ties of the court of Indra. What astonishing fortitude! What patience in supporting pain! said these admiring spectators to each other. After a time, however, anxiety took the place of astonishment, and they began to fear that the success of this enterprising penitent would de- prive some of them of their celestial privileges. No sooner did this idea occur to them, than they made it their bnsiness to devise some means of defeating his purpose, and applied for aid to their powerful master. The ruler of the sky gave ear to their request, and addressed him- self to the Nymph Pramnocha, whose youthful freshness, slender waist, pearly teeth, and well turned neck and shoulders, gave her the palm over all her sisters. Go, Pramnocha, quoth the god, hasten with the speed of lightning to the hermitage of Candu; do your best, my beauty, to interrupt his devotions, and bewilder his thoughts. Mighty monarch of the gods, replied the nymph, I am ready to execute your orders, but I tremble for my very life. I am afraid to encounter the piercing eye and sun-bright visage of this sublime her- mit. If he do but suspect the motive of my coming, he may inflict a curse on me, that will make me miserable forever. Let me beg you rather to choose for this dangerous enterprise my sisters Urvasi, Mena- ka, Rambla or Misrakeis, whose superior charms would give them a much better chance of success. Nay, replied the divine spouse of Lecki, these nymphs must stay with me. It is on you, Pramnocha, that I have fixed my hopes, and to aid you in the undertaking, I give you for companions, Love, Spring, and the West Wind. Encouraged by this flattering language, the charming nymph took her departure at once, and gliding rapidly through the intervening realms of space with her three companions, alighted on the earth in the wood near the Hermitage of Candu. For some time they wandered about in its wide and shady walks, and thought them hardly inferior in beauty to the enchanted gardens of Indras Paradise. The laughing earth offered them ripe fruits and blooming flowers. Melodious music seemed to bid them welcome. The majestic mango, the lemon-tree with its golden fruits, and the towering palm, intertwined with pomegranates, bananas, and the broad- The Hermitage of Candu. 147 leaved fig, afforded in turn their refreshing shadow. Birds of the most beautiful plumage and unrivaled melody, balanced themselves playfully upon the bending twigs, and delighted at the same time the eye and the ear. Here and there was seen a running brook, or a little silver lake, on the surface of which floated the blue and purple flowers of the sacred lotus; while swans of dazzling whiteness sailed about grace- fully in pairs, leaving behind them a narrow wake; and the water-fowl, invited by the coolness of the shade, washed their feathers and sported on the shore. Pramnocha, though charmed with this ravishing spectacle, was not diverted from her object. Reminding her companions of the purpose they had in view, and requesting them to give her their assistance, she put on herself her most inviting airs and graces. So then, said she, we shall see at last this redoubted leader of Bramas chariot, who pretends that he can teach the fiery horse of Sense to bear the yoke. I fear that the reins will presently slip from his hands. Yes, were he Brama, Vishnu or the inexorable Sheeva himself:, he should feel to-day the power of love. Thus saying she approached the Hermitage, which was so well se- cured by the sanctity of its owner, that the fiercest animals grew tame in its neighborhood. She seated herself by the river side, and, tuning her voice to the note of the kokilas, began to warble the most enchant- ing strains. At the same moment, Spring spread new charms over the face of nature; the song of the kokilas assumed an unknown sweetness, and touched the heart with a secret feeling of rapturous languor; the West Wind, fraught with all the perfumes of its native Malayan hills, gently stirred the air, and sowed the earth with odorous flowers; while Love, armed with his burning arrows, approached the dwelling of Candu, and agitated his inmost soul with involuntary transports of passion. Allured by the music, and already so inflamed with desire, that be is hardly conscious of what he does, he hurries to the spot from which the sounds proceed. He sees the nymph, and stands fixed in astonishment at the charms which she displays. Who art thou U he exclaimed, thou, whose graceful form, arched eyebrows, and be- witching smile have robbed me of my reason? I conjure thee~ tell me the truth. You see in me, replied Pramnocha, the humblest of your hand- maids. I came here only to gather a few of these flowers. Reverend father, let me hear your orders, and tell me in what I can serve you. This modest language quite bereft poor Candu of the remnant of his understanding. He took the nymph by the hand, and led her to his rustic hermitage. Her three companions, seeing that their aid was no longer wanted, returned to the heavenly abodes, and informed the gods of the success of their stratagem. Candu, by means of the severe penance he had already undergone, had obtained the miraculous power of changing his appearance at pleasure. He now put on the shape of a young man of superior beauty, arrayed in robes and garlands of the most graceful fashion; and his person and manner were so prepossessing under this transformation, that the nymph, who only intended to captivate him, was in turn smit- ten herself in good earnest. All the former devout exercises of fast- 143 The Hermitage of Gandu. ing, praying, sacrificing, and meditation were now neglected, and the poor hermit, constantly occupied with his passion, never recollected, that he was interrupting the course of his penance, and even took no note of time as it passed. Several months had now elapsed in the midst of these amusements, when Pramnocha expressed the wish of returning to her celestial home. Candu, more and more besotted with his passion, entreated her to stay. The nymph consented, but after a while, expressed the same desire again. Again the hermit employed all his eloquence to induce her to remain, and the nymph, afraid of bringing down some fatal curse upon her head if she offended him, for the second time consented. His iii. toxication still went on increasing, and he never lost sight of the ob~ ject of his love for a moment. At length, one evening, as they were sitting together, she saw him with surprise suddenly rise from his seat, and turn his steps towards a consecrated grove. Where are you going ? inquired the nymph. What project are you bent upon ? Do you not see, replied Can- du, that the sun is about settino? I must hasten to offer my eve- ning sacrifice; the least interruption of my devotional exercises would ruin me forever. Tell me then, 0 man of perfect wisdom, returned the nymph, in what this day differs from hundreds of others? If this should pass unhallowed, like all the rest which we have spent together for so many months, who would notice or take offence at it ? What mean you, said the anchorite, by hundreds of days and many months? Was it not, 0 fairest of women, this very morning that I first saw you by the rivers side, and brought you to my Hermit- age? Is not this the first time that evening has come upon us since? What am I to understand by your language, and by the significant smile which I see upon your lips ? I cannot help smiling, replied the nymph, to find you so much mistaken respecting the lapse of time, as not to know that it is a year since the morning you speak of. How say you, too seductive fair one,returned the hermit; is this possible? lam still persuaded that it is but a day that I have passed by your side. Nay, replied the nymph, you cannot surely suspect, that I should think of impos- ing upon a reverend Bramin,a holy hermit, who has made a vow never to wander a single step from the path of wisdom. Alas! alas ! exclaimed the luckless Bramin, who now began to see through the stratagem; alas, and wo is me, for I have lost forever the fruits of my long course of penance! The merit of all my devo- tional exercises and sufferings is destroyed by the arts of this female. Go, deceitful one! Begone from my sight! Your mission is accomplished. 149 THE LATE STEPHEN GIRARD. Tun greatness of man is to be inferred from his successful ac- complishment of great plans; and if those plans include public good, as well as his own benefit, then he may with some propriety be called a good man. We leave it to casuists to settle the exact line between greatness and goodness, and adjust the more difficult question, of what goodness is? while we refer hastily to some of the leading features in the life of one whose name has for many years been as familiar to the ears of our commercial fellow citizens, as household words. Among the many aged men whom death has this season claimed, under the agency of colds and Influenza, is to be ranked STEPHEN GIRARD, the celebrated Banker. He died in Philadelphia, on Monday, the 26th day of December, 1831. Mr. Girard was born in or near Bordeaux, in France, about the year 1746. We have no materials from which to form a regular biog- raphy of him. It does not appear that he owed much to his family on the score of education, and he very early left his paternal mansion to seek his fortune amid new scenes, more congenial to his taste, and, as he hoped, more promising in pecuniary benefits. Whether this deter- mination was the consequence of real or imaginary wrongs, on the part of his parents, or whether a love of roaming alone influenced young Girard, we cannot assert; but the spirit of enterprise was ever predominant with him, and probably was the chief incitement to his early undertaking. In the humble capacity of cabin, boy, at about the age of twelve years, Girard left France for the West-Indies, where he resided some time, and also made many voyages thence to the United States, until he attained the situation of mate. About 1775, he arrived in New- York, and became a resident in this country. We know little of him in that city; but when the American army was in New-Jersey, we find that Mr. Girard kept a small shop in Mount Holly, a village in West New-Jersey, near the Delaware, where he manufactured cigars, and sold them, with the other stock of his small shop. It was about 1780, that Mr. Girard moved to Philadelphia, and in a few years we are enabled to trace him to the occupancy of a very small wooden building in North Water-street, where his commerce consisted chiefly in old iron and old junk; and he was about as well known, as any other persons similarly employed. Nothing, however, is mention- ed of his transactions in any situation, humble or exalted, that could, by the customs of trade, be considered di~honorable; close, but honest dealings, appears to have been his motto. Mr. Girard grew rich by no sudden start; his wealth was acquired by industry, and preserved with economy. From his shop in Water- street, we have heard it stated that he frequently made trading excur- sions up the river Delaware in a small boat, making small but sure gains by his sales of groceries and clothing to the well to live far- mers along the borders of the river. As his business, however, in- creased, we believe, he added to his employment the sale of liquors, and these, joined to the continuance of his segar fabrication, multiplied the small gains, till the aggregate was enough to insure an adventure VOL. ii. 20

The Late Stephen Girard Original Papers 149-154

149 THE LATE STEPHEN GIRARD. Tun greatness of man is to be inferred from his successful ac- complishment of great plans; and if those plans include public good, as well as his own benefit, then he may with some propriety be called a good man. We leave it to casuists to settle the exact line between greatness and goodness, and adjust the more difficult question, of what goodness is? while we refer hastily to some of the leading features in the life of one whose name has for many years been as familiar to the ears of our commercial fellow citizens, as household words. Among the many aged men whom death has this season claimed, under the agency of colds and Influenza, is to be ranked STEPHEN GIRARD, the celebrated Banker. He died in Philadelphia, on Monday, the 26th day of December, 1831. Mr. Girard was born in or near Bordeaux, in France, about the year 1746. We have no materials from which to form a regular biog- raphy of him. It does not appear that he owed much to his family on the score of education, and he very early left his paternal mansion to seek his fortune amid new scenes, more congenial to his taste, and, as he hoped, more promising in pecuniary benefits. Whether this deter- mination was the consequence of real or imaginary wrongs, on the part of his parents, or whether a love of roaming alone influenced young Girard, we cannot assert; but the spirit of enterprise was ever predominant with him, and probably was the chief incitement to his early undertaking. In the humble capacity of cabin, boy, at about the age of twelve years, Girard left France for the West-Indies, where he resided some time, and also made many voyages thence to the United States, until he attained the situation of mate. About 1775, he arrived in New- York, and became a resident in this country. We know little of him in that city; but when the American army was in New-Jersey, we find that Mr. Girard kept a small shop in Mount Holly, a village in West New-Jersey, near the Delaware, where he manufactured cigars, and sold them, with the other stock of his small shop. It was about 1780, that Mr. Girard moved to Philadelphia, and in a few years we are enabled to trace him to the occupancy of a very small wooden building in North Water-street, where his commerce consisted chiefly in old iron and old junk; and he was about as well known, as any other persons similarly employed. Nothing, however, is mention- ed of his transactions in any situation, humble or exalted, that could, by the customs of trade, be considered di~honorable; close, but honest dealings, appears to have been his motto. Mr. Girard grew rich by no sudden start; his wealth was acquired by industry, and preserved with economy. From his shop in Water- street, we have heard it stated that he frequently made trading excur- sions up the river Delaware in a small boat, making small but sure gains by his sales of groceries and clothing to the well to live far- mers along the borders of the river. As his business, however, in- creased, we believe, he added to his employment the sale of liquors, and these, joined to the continuance of his segar fabrication, multiplied the small gains, till the aggregate was enough to insure an adventure VOL. ii. 20 150 The late Stephen Girard. by sea. We need not trace, step by step, the progress of the success- ful merchant; most of our readers know how wealth accumulates, when good sense and good fortune plan and execute the voyage. Mr. Girard soon became the proprietor of the building in which he had carried on his small traffic, and he erected on its site, a large man- sion, including his counting house; this continued to be his city resi- dence, until his death. He added to his possessions there the wharves and buildings below, and a few adjoining tenements and stores. He continued to pursue commerce exclusively until 1811, when Congress, by a decision not now to be censured or approved, refused to re- charter the old Bank of the United States. Mr. Girard then possessed the means to open a banking establishment, and availing himself of the experience of Mr. GEORGE SIMPsON, who had long acted as Cash- ier of the United States Bank, he purchased the Banking House of that institution in South Third-street, Philadelphia, and became a Banker. The notes which he issued were ever regarded as equal to those of any Bank in the city of Philadelphia, and the liberality with which he conducted his business won for him the respect and grati- tude of a large portion of the active merchants of that city. For several years previous to his death, Mr. Girard had gradually diminished his commercial capital; vesting it in real estate, of which he had become an immense holder. It has been remarked by many, that the buildings which he erected might be known from those of any other person, by the extraordinary thickness of walls and other char- acteristics of permanency with which he invested them. This fashion of building strong was well followed up by Mr. Gir- ard; his ships were especially noted for the quality and quantity of their timbers, and the strength of their various fastenings. We should have mentioned above, that the capital which Mr. Gir- ard first invested in his Bank, was one million, eight hundred thousand dollars. This he subsequently augmented to five millions. It is said that he gained more than half a million of dollars, by selling out part of his stock in thepresent United States Bank, at the time when it had been raised from 40 to 60 per cent. above par by a system of spec- ulation. During our late war with Great-Britain, the government found dif- ficulties in raising the necessary funds; and public credit had sunk so low, that seven per cent. stock was offered at 30 per cent. discount. Of this, Mr. Girard took FIVE MILLIONS. It will be seen that, in all these transactions, while public good was promoted, private profit was the moving principle; and this remark will apply with equal force to other business concerns of Mr. Girard. In the prosecution of his commercial affairs he promised cautiously, and paid promptly; his cal- culations were ever for his own profits, without infringing the acknowl- edged rights of others, and his liberality was distinctly marked with the peculiarities of business. Mr. Girard was a liber& l subscriber to the stock of companies formed for internal improvement, and perhaps in such matters he made less calculation on profits than in most other business concernsand it is as a man of business that Mr. Girard is generally known. But Stephen Girard, with all his devotion to the acquisition of wealth, had points of char- acter that ranked him high as a genuine philanthropist. He contribut The late Stephen Girard. 151 ted to a vast many public charities; to the erection of many public buildings. He was a liberal friend to the Masonic order. He was punc- tual in the discharge of duties which he assumed by accepting public office; and (we hope to be excused for ranking it among the virtues) was never known to interfere unsolicited in the business of the people. There are those in the city of Philadelphia who have a tale to tell of Stephen Girard, that we shall not attempt to narrate at length; but even this hasty notice of the man, wonid be unpardonably incomplete if no reference was made to the facts. In the year 1793, the city of Philadelphia was visited with that fatal scourge, the yellow fever. Such was the panic which its sudden and awful ravages struck into the hearts of the inhabitants, that thousands of families fled from the city without providing for their business, and some even left their own sick to die, without a relative to close the eye or to offer the rites of sepulture. Attendants and nurses were vainly sought for to wait on the dying at private houses, or attend the wretched sufferers at the Hospital, hastily prepared in the vicinity of the city. At such a time, Stephen Girard, the rich, the money-making and money-loving STE- PHEN GIRARD, was seen watching beside the hed of the afflicted~, en- haling the loathsome atmosphere of the chamber, where the victims of the fatal disease were receiving from his hands moisture for their parched lips, or those offices which kinsmen and relatives had shrunk from performing. The love of gain appeared to have passed frnm his mind; his whole thoughts were given to the sufferings of others, and the devising of means for mitigating those sufferings and checking the of a disease, that seemed at one time to threaten, that thoucrh ravages b he should be spared, he only should be saved alive to tell the tale of horror. None of the loathsome forms which the yellow fever assumes, nor the multiplicity of deceased, prevented Mr. Girard from a constant and unremitted devotion to the duties of a nurse which he had assumed. He, with a few others of a noble courage, endured unto the end; and when the pestilence had passed away, when the hand of charity was no longer required to minister to the necessities of the sick and dying, Stephen Girard returned to his counting-room, immersed himself in business, pursued his gains,the last man perhaps that thought of the amount of services he had rendered his fellow man, or how much his generous devotion had shed lustre upon human natuie. To have a just conception of the benefits which Mr. Girard conferred upon the community by his servicesone must sit and listen, as we have done, to the recital of the horrors of that dark season of calamity by some one who passed through the fearful ordeal. What is the deed of the conqueror to such acts? What the accla- mations that follow the leader of a victorious army, to the silent grati- tude that at the mention of Girards name springs up in the hearts of those who, in 1793, were objects of his solicitude! Such devotion to the afflicted, to those who could never make returns, has erected for the object of these remarks in the bosom of his late fellow-citizens an imperishable monument of gratitude. In person, Mr. Girard was below the middling stature, of a solid frame without being fleshy; remarkably plain in his attire, hut with sufficient attention to dress to escape observation. In early life he lost his right eye; and about a year beibre his death, he lost nearly the 152 The late Stephen Girard. whole of his right ear by being forcibly thrown down in the street, and run over by a loaded wagon.* Mr. Girard was but once marriedhe buried his wife nearly seventeen years before his own death, and was thus left without direct heirs to his immense wealth. Three nieces had formed a part of his domestic circle, and these with their children were remembered in his will. We cannot refer to the WILL of Mr. Girard, an abstract of which will be found in another part of this Magazine, without a passing notice of some of its provisions, as indicative of his mind. There are no clauses of that instrument, which pour floods of wealth into the laps of those who have for years earned their bread by the sweat of their brow; though a large number are furnished with enough for a decent living, by the exercise of customary economy, and without the fatigues of customary labor. At Mr. Girards age, and with his habits of ob- servation, he must have been fully conscious of the immense evils that have resulted to individuals by a sudden influx of wealth. Hundreds, he knew, had borne reverses with philosophy, and conquered, by bear- ing their fate; but rare, indeed, were the iii~tances in which sudden prosperity had not turned the head of its pitiable victim. It can scarcely have escaped the observation of any one, who has read these hasty remarks, that the object of them must have possessed, in an eminent degree, that property which is usually denominated good sense. He was remarkable among those who knew him best for his close observations of the human character; rarely, indeed, if ever, was he deceived by the specious arguments of the designing. He saw at once the character, and generally understood the motives, of those who approached him, and not unfrequently startled applicants for favors, by referring to some discrepancies in the different parts of their representations. The loss of a ship and cargo never disturbed the equanimity of Mr. Girard, ~or did the sudden gain of half a million, by a single specula- tion, cause the least change in his steady and sober calculations. He was truly philosophical in the ordinary acceptance of that term. In referring to the g~ood sense of Mr. Girard, we meant to have added that, from causes which we have already stated, he was deficient in the learning of the schools; and probably to that causeto remembrance of inconveniences which a lack of learning subjected him tois due the liberal bequest for an Orphan College, from which boys may issue, prepared for any of the productive occupations of life. Mr. Girard, it is seen, obtained his immense wealth by industry, pru- dence and economy. He preserved the respect of his fellow citizens by a discharge of his various duties with strict justice, not unfrequently tempered with liberality; but he was scarcely more to be regarded for wealth, than for health, which he enjoyed almost uninterruptedly, and this he owed to regular and temperate habitsand, we believe, the no- ble and generous devotion which he manifested for his fellow man, when the yellow fever was slaying thousands by day and night, will show him also a man of fortitude and courage. Prudence, Tempe- rance, Fortitude and Justice, usually denominated the cardinal virtues, * Mr. Bass Otis, a portrait painter of distinction in Philadelphia, a native of Bridgewater, in this State, obtained permission to take a cast of Mr. Girards face, shortly after his death, from which he painted a most correct likenessthe only oise ever taken of the distinguished original. Messrs. Childs & Inman have been allo~ved to lithograph the likeness. Tke late Step/ten Girard. 153 were, in no inconsiderable degree, to be discovered in the character and transactions of Stephen Girard. Mr. Girard was born into the Catholic Church, but we believe he had little direct intercourse with the clergymen of that or any other church, as such; although he con- tributed liberally to the erection of many places of public worship for different denominations of Christians. We commenced these notices with no intention of writing a biogra- phy of Mr. Girard, nor of offering an eulogium upon his life and char- acter; but, on recurrence to the first paragraph, we find that we have said something of greatness in connexion with his name. The attain- ment of wealth with a view to benefit others, as well as for self-gratifi- cation, may be considered a noble end; and when probity marks every transaction by which the object is attained, something like noble means must be granted. Pope hath said of one who reaches noble ends by noble means, that he is great indeed. But greatness is a less lovely attribute than goodness. We have said, and we might have mul- tiplied proofs, that Mr. Girard was charitable himself, and aided the charities of others. Bitt we have recorded a more ennobling instance, than the mere giving of gifts unto men. Every day will show us a man who could earn a laurel by gallant daring in the field, or pur- chase public commendations by a profuse disposal of money for the furtherance of benevolent purposes; but how rare, how exceedingly rare, are the instances of goodness, such as we have recorded of Mr. Girard! Selfishness had apparently severed the fondest and dearest ties of consanguinity; friend had forsaken friend, and brother, brother; it was no longer a question, what could be done for others, but how could each save himself? In the midst of those whom death had struck, Stephen Girard had no relative nor pledged friend. In the mansion where, at best, squalid misery was to be found, and where then loathsome and contagious disease was raging, the rich merchant had no associate; there was none there whose name he could know; yet thither had he threaded his way, through interdicted lanes and alleys; and while the African, by a law of his nature almost exempt from the disease, dragged forth the putrid and decaying bodies of the recent dead, he noted Girard ministering to the comforts of the yet living sufferer. At the hospital, where disease seemed to have consummated her most horrid bargain with death; where, if pestilence hath form and proportions, the horrid power must have set up its throne, there was Stephen Girard, with his own hands discharging the loathsome offices which that awful disease requires at the hands of some. There could have been no vanity there, no love nor hope of praise. The mouth, which he in the morning moistened, might be, and most often was, at evening, festering in the charnel-house. And few, indeed, were the chances that those who like him were volunteers in the cause of hu- manity, would live to tell of his generous devotion. But he shrunk not from his noble purpose. His immense wealth, honorably acquired, will allow a splendid mau- soleum for his tomb; and schemes for public advantage, which he has either devised or promoted, will justify the present age for marking greatness beneath his name. But true Philanthropy, when she re- views the scenes of 1793, will chisel Goodness on the monument of STEPhEN GIRARD. 154 THE COMPLAINT AND PETITION OF THE MUCH-ABUSED IT, Humbly showeth to your Honors the Justices of the high and honor- able Court of Common Consent and Usage, That your complainant and orator hath long and patiently endured the most unfair, scandalous, and abominable treatment, abuse, and persecution, in the manner here- inafter mentioned, until his patience and forbearance is at last exhaust- ed, and he is compelled to come before your Honors and petition for redress. Your complainant has, for a long time, been the object of insult and abuse, by a host of unfeeling talkers and writers, who have flooded the public with the abundance of their malicious outpourings; at one time slandering him with the most gross and false accusations; at another, by insinuation and inuendo, more cutting than open attack; at another, by mock compliment, which would not be offered to one whom they at all respected. They are continually dragging your complain- ant into company which he despises, coupling him with the most vul- gar associates, and so making him seem to be of the same bad char- acter. Your complainant will enumerate a few instances in which he has been thus mal-treated ;hoping that your Honors will be affected to compassion by his so doing. A vile political writer, to be named by whom is bad enough, a few days since, had the impudence, after pouring out his angry tirade against his opponent, to turn about and throw all the odium of the con- troversy on your complainant, by saying, IT is, however, contemptible to enter the lists with such a man on such a subject. Your complain- ant had never dreamed of participating in the quarrel. There is scarcely a hoax palmed upon the public, but your com- plainant is made to suffer all the blame. If the newspapers announce a monstrous birth, the editors will assure you that IT is unworthy of credit. If a scurrilous publication comes out, the censors of the press declare Iv is abominable, indelicate, indictable; or that IT is shameful to speak of such a thing; when your complainant is per- fectly innocent of the whole matter. The public attention was aroused the other day, and your complain- ant nearly frightened intofits, by the publication of an essay on a sub- ject of general excitement, at the close of which the author declared that IT was likely to destroy our national union. While your com- plainant was in an agony of fear, expecting to be arraigned for high treason, an attack was made on him from another quarter, and the ac- cusation varied so as to read thus; that Iv was the most ungentle- manly thing that we have ever met with. And very recently, after describing a ludicrous meeting which took place at the Capitol, the same blackguard writer, pursuing his usual course of conduct, declar- ed, that Iv was the height of the ridiculous. Your complainant certainly meets with better treatment occasional- ly, and has his anger somewhat mollified by now and then a compli- ment. lie is free to say, that, at the last opening of the Athena~um Gallery, his pleasure was great in hearing our fairest and most fashion-

The Complaint and petition of the Much-Abused It Original Papers 154-156

154 THE COMPLAINT AND PETITION OF THE MUCH-ABUSED IT, Humbly showeth to your Honors the Justices of the high and honor- able Court of Common Consent and Usage, That your complainant and orator hath long and patiently endured the most unfair, scandalous, and abominable treatment, abuse, and persecution, in the manner here- inafter mentioned, until his patience and forbearance is at last exhaust- ed, and he is compelled to come before your Honors and petition for redress. Your complainant has, for a long time, been the object of insult and abuse, by a host of unfeeling talkers and writers, who have flooded the public with the abundance of their malicious outpourings; at one time slandering him with the most gross and false accusations; at another, by insinuation and inuendo, more cutting than open attack; at another, by mock compliment, which would not be offered to one whom they at all respected. They are continually dragging your complain- ant into company which he despises, coupling him with the most vul- gar associates, and so making him seem to be of the same bad char- acter. Your complainant will enumerate a few instances in which he has been thus mal-treated ;hoping that your Honors will be affected to compassion by his so doing. A vile political writer, to be named by whom is bad enough, a few days since, had the impudence, after pouring out his angry tirade against his opponent, to turn about and throw all the odium of the con- troversy on your complainant, by saying, IT is, however, contemptible to enter the lists with such a man on such a subject. Your complain- ant had never dreamed of participating in the quarrel. There is scarcely a hoax palmed upon the public, but your com- plainant is made to suffer all the blame. If the newspapers announce a monstrous birth, the editors will assure you that IT is unworthy of credit. If a scurrilous publication comes out, the censors of the press declare Iv is abominable, indelicate, indictable; or that IT is shameful to speak of such a thing; when your complainant is per- fectly innocent of the whole matter. The public attention was aroused the other day, and your complain- ant nearly frightened intofits, by the publication of an essay on a sub- ject of general excitement, at the close of which the author declared that IT was likely to destroy our national union. While your com- plainant was in an agony of fear, expecting to be arraigned for high treason, an attack was made on him from another quarter, and the ac- cusation varied so as to read thus; that Iv was the most ungentle- manly thing that we have ever met with. And very recently, after describing a ludicrous meeting which took place at the Capitol, the same blackguard writer, pursuing his usual course of conduct, declar- ed, that Iv was the height of the ridiculous. Your complainant certainly meets with better treatment occasional- ly, and has his anger somewhat mollified by now and then a compli- ment. lie is free to say, that, at the last opening of the Athena~um Gallery, his pleasure was great in hearing our fairest and most fashion- complaint and Petition of It. 155 able ladies repeatedly declare, that IT was beautiful, delightful, charming, heavenly! But even there, in the haunt of living and pic- tured loveliness, your complainant did not escape his usual unhappy fate ;for repeatedly was he forced to hear that IT was awfully ugly, stupid, false to nature, miserably designed and more miserably executed. Not oiily is your complainant thus made the object of open attack, and direct accusation, but he is every day receiving side thrusts, sly blows, and covert insinuations. IT is certainly laudable to be thus putting the public in commotion, and disturbing the peace of society, ironically remarks a writer, whose pen is dipped in gall, and who might, by directing his venom against real evils, become of public ser- vice. IT may succeed, if the audience be tasteless as itself; con- tinues another of these snarling authors, who fatten on the victims they destroy. And a third declares, that IT is monstrously absurd to imagine that the American public will ever exchange the beautiful pro- duction of their own Knapp, for the foreign manufacture of Day & Martin. Now your complainant certainly had never, for a moment, wished to distract the peace of the community; nor pretended to un- common taste; nor desired to drive the glossy beauty of Knapp into the shade of No. 75, High Holborn. Your complainant would not regard these newspaper-mongers, were they not joined with writers of greater importance in this relentless persecution. But when the first authors of the age, venerable for tal- ent, and eminent for service, are also engaged in hostilities against the innocent object of a general dislike, your complainant thinks that the time for self-defence has arrived, and that to remain silent would be pusillanimity. A distinguished statesman, in a very elaborately written speech, has asserted that IT is both mean and dastardly to submit in silence to unprovoked insults. A charge like this, howev- er undeserved, is enough to rouse your complainant, even were he pos- sessed of a happier temper, to some show of resistance. But when the same great man went on to affirm, that IT would be a deep, burning and enduring disgrace to us, and the cause of incalculable evils to so- ciety at large, your Honors may well imagine that your complainant was filled with indignation, and absolutely driven to this appeal to your high and honorable Court for redress. Nor is this all. Another writer of equal distinction, after having framed the theory of a perfect government, from which all the crimes and vices should be banished, and having spoken of war as one of the evils which should be thence expelled, went on, as if perfecting the climax of his hypothesis, and declared that IT was the most tremen- dous agent of destruction to governments, and to individual happiness; and the severest curse with which the world was ever afflicted. I really shuddered at such an appalling picture of myself; and when I re- membered the high authority given to the slander by the reputation of the writer, I almost trembled in anticipation of the hatred and ruin which must be visited upon me. But the unkindest cut of all was given from the pulpit, by a Divine, whose piety and character for moderation and truth are undoubt- ed, and who exerts an influence, almost beyond a parallel, over the public mind. After painting the horrors of intemperance in colors as 156 Sonnet. vivid as those which have defied the fading power of time in the sub~ terranean chambers of Egypt, he turned, with a somewhat sudden and startling apostrophe, to your unfortunate complainant, and asserted that, of all the causes which tended to demoralize the world, and make the same a picture of hell, IT was the most active and successful ; nay, he continued, IT may, without violence, be said to be a weapon of the Devils own forging, wherewith to destroy the bodies and souls of men. In view of all these insults and abuses, your complainant feels him- self entitled to some redress; and he is aware that, from no tribunal, save that of Common Consent and Usage, can such redress be obtained; and he therefore prays of this high and honorable court, that they will take such order in the premises, as will give him some compensation for injury already suffered, and secure to him safety and honorable treatment for the future. And your petitioner, as in duty bound, will always pray, & c. P. S. Your Honors complainant and petitioner has not adverted to the gyammatical absurdities which have resulted from the misuse that he has suffered, in being made the substitute for divers ungainly and disagreeable expressions, and so tinged with their own bad coloring; in being forced into the society of disagreeable companions; in having been declared of no gender, without any cause assigned for this philo- logical emasculation; in being tacked upon the wrong end of surly infinitives, and participles, and adjectives, in such phrases as these IT is to be regretted that people are so hasty; IT is disgusting to no- tice, & c. IT is bad policy to change the article in question, & c. and in many other modes and forms, with which your complainant and peti- tioner will not trouble your Honors, as they are very obvious, and the relief for the same is within your Honors power. SONNET. MORNING AFTER SNOW. Now every shrub is garnished with a crest Of feathery snow, and vanished Night, I see, Hath fringed with ermine every branching tree, That now is strung with pearls, as from the East The fount of light pours out the flood of day; The tropic bird within my parlor sings In new delight, and plies his untried wings With eye intent on yonder glittering spray; And yet, before that sun, whose sloping ray Converts the snow-flake to a sparkling gem, To grace, awhile, stern Winters diadem, His dazzling beauty soon shall melt away. So fades the morning beauty of our years And thus its gems of promise turn to tears L. M. N. JANUARY 1, 1832.

L. M. N. N., L. M. Sonnet Original Papers 156-157

156 Sonnet. vivid as those which have defied the fading power of time in the sub~ terranean chambers of Egypt, he turned, with a somewhat sudden and startling apostrophe, to your unfortunate complainant, and asserted that, of all the causes which tended to demoralize the world, and make the same a picture of hell, IT was the most active and successful ; nay, he continued, IT may, without violence, be said to be a weapon of the Devils own forging, wherewith to destroy the bodies and souls of men. In view of all these insults and abuses, your complainant feels him- self entitled to some redress; and he is aware that, from no tribunal, save that of Common Consent and Usage, can such redress be obtained; and he therefore prays of this high and honorable court, that they will take such order in the premises, as will give him some compensation for injury already suffered, and secure to him safety and honorable treatment for the future. And your petitioner, as in duty bound, will always pray, & c. P. S. Your Honors complainant and petitioner has not adverted to the gyammatical absurdities which have resulted from the misuse that he has suffered, in being made the substitute for divers ungainly and disagreeable expressions, and so tinged with their own bad coloring; in being forced into the society of disagreeable companions; in having been declared of no gender, without any cause assigned for this philo- logical emasculation; in being tacked upon the wrong end of surly infinitives, and participles, and adjectives, in such phrases as these IT is to be regretted that people are so hasty; IT is disgusting to no- tice, & c. IT is bad policy to change the article in question, & c. and in many other modes and forms, with which your complainant and peti- tioner will not trouble your Honors, as they are very obvious, and the relief for the same is within your Honors power. SONNET. MORNING AFTER SNOW. Now every shrub is garnished with a crest Of feathery snow, and vanished Night, I see, Hath fringed with ermine every branching tree, That now is strung with pearls, as from the East The fount of light pours out the flood of day; The tropic bird within my parlor sings In new delight, and plies his untried wings With eye intent on yonder glittering spray; And yet, before that sun, whose sloping ray Converts the snow-flake to a sparkling gem, To grace, awhile, stern Winters diadem, His dazzling beauty soon shall melt away. So fades the morning beauty of our years And thus its gems of promise turn to tears L. M. N. JANUARY 1, 1832. MONTHLY RECORD. FEBRUARY, 1832. POLITICS AND STATISTICS. UNITED STATES. CONGRESS. The proceedings of Con- gress(that is to say, the business defi- nitively acted upon,)up to the period at which this work went to press, were not of great importance, nor of general interest. Senate. The Committee on Finance, to which had been referred several pe- titions for a reduction of the duties on Teas, reported, on the 19th of Decem- ber, that it was inexpedient to act on the subject. The report was accompa- nied by a letter from the Secretary of theTreasury ,showing that the duty upon the quantity of Teas imported in 1830, valued at $6,156,268, would be but $898,974 46 after the first of January, 1832, and under the duties proposed by the petitioners would amount to only $299,847 68. The Secretary stated that he was not satisfied that it would ever be expedient to reduce the duties upon Teas, materially lower than th. rates of January, 1832; as those duties would not be sufficiently high to affect the consumption, and this would always be a safe source of revenue. He thought it expedient to delay any action upon the subject until a general revision of the Tariff. The views of this letter ex- cited some debate. General Smith, of Maryland, chairman of the committee, stated that it was found to be impossible to get any bill through, prior to the first of January, the time fixed upon by the memorialists, and that many gentlemen were entirely opposed to acting upon this one item, until the whole subject was before them. Mr. Hayne, ofSouth- Carolina, also argued that the reduction prayed for was not expedient, if it were practicable, at the time mentioned. Mr. Webster and Mr. Clay, on the con- trary, argued that the duties might be reduced to take effect at an early day in January, with very great advantage to the country, and without detriment VOL. ii. 21 to any interest. The report was laid upon the table, upon motion of Mr. Chambers, of Maryland. Mr. Holmes, of Maine, called the at- tention of the Senate, on the 20th of December, to that passage of the Pres- idents message relating to the West India trade, in which it is stated that up to the 30th of September, 1831, (at which time the trade bad been open to us, under Mr. McLanes treaty, ten months, and to the British one year,) the American outward tonnage had been 30,000, and the British 15,000, and the inward American tonnage something less, and the British about 20,000. Mr. Holmes stated that, prior to the treaty, this trade,carried on through the Swedish and Danish Islands,had em- ployed for the year ending on the same day in 1830, of American tonnage, 193,584, and of foreign 14,267; showing a very serious loss to our shipping in- terest within one year only. Mr. Holmes also stated that our productions were taxed much higher in the British West-India Islands than in the North- American Provinces, while our ships were excluded from the trade between the Provinces and the Islands, and British vessels clearing from our ports on favorable terms, engrossed the whole trade. He therefore introduced resolu- tions, calling upon the President for further information upon these points, and to ascertain the duties upon our products, chargeable in the British col- onies. No opposition was made to the passage of the resolutions. Mr. Smith of Maryland, argued that a fair trial had not been made of the effect of the West- India treaty, during the short time the trade had been open; that our mer- chants having been engaged with their vessels in other channels, while the trade was closed, were not prepared to engage in it when first opened to them; that the trade, owing to the intervention

Politics and Statistics Monthly Record 157-171

MONTHLY RECORD. FEBRUARY, 1832. POLITICS AND STATISTICS. UNITED STATES. CONGRESS. The proceedings of Con- gress(that is to say, the business defi- nitively acted upon,)up to the period at which this work went to press, were not of great importance, nor of general interest. Senate. The Committee on Finance, to which had been referred several pe- titions for a reduction of the duties on Teas, reported, on the 19th of Decem- ber, that it was inexpedient to act on the subject. The report was accompa- nied by a letter from the Secretary of theTreasury ,showing that the duty upon the quantity of Teas imported in 1830, valued at $6,156,268, would be but $898,974 46 after the first of January, 1832, and under the duties proposed by the petitioners would amount to only $299,847 68. The Secretary stated that he was not satisfied that it would ever be expedient to reduce the duties upon Teas, materially lower than th. rates of January, 1832; as those duties would not be sufficiently high to affect the consumption, and this would always be a safe source of revenue. He thought it expedient to delay any action upon the subject until a general revision of the Tariff. The views of this letter ex- cited some debate. General Smith, of Maryland, chairman of the committee, stated that it was found to be impossible to get any bill through, prior to the first of January, the time fixed upon by the memorialists, and that many gentlemen were entirely opposed to acting upon this one item, until the whole subject was before them. Mr. Hayne, ofSouth- Carolina, also argued that the reduction prayed for was not expedient, if it were practicable, at the time mentioned. Mr. Webster and Mr. Clay, on the con- trary, argued that the duties might be reduced to take effect at an early day in January, with very great advantage to the country, and without detriment VOL. ii. 21 to any interest. The report was laid upon the table, upon motion of Mr. Chambers, of Maryland. Mr. Holmes, of Maine, called the at- tention of the Senate, on the 20th of December, to that passage of the Pres- idents message relating to the West India trade, in which it is stated that up to the 30th of September, 1831, (at which time the trade bad been open to us, under Mr. McLanes treaty, ten months, and to the British one year,) the American outward tonnage had been 30,000, and the British 15,000, and the inward American tonnage something less, and the British about 20,000. Mr. Holmes stated that, prior to the treaty, this trade,carried on through the Swedish and Danish Islands,had em- ployed for the year ending on the same day in 1830, of American tonnage, 193,584, and of foreign 14,267; showing a very serious loss to our shipping in- terest within one year only. Mr. Holmes also stated that our productions were taxed much higher in the British West-India Islands than in the North- American Provinces, while our ships were excluded from the trade between the Provinces and the Islands, and British vessels clearing from our ports on favorable terms, engrossed the whole trade. He therefore introduced resolu- tions, calling upon the President for further information upon these points, and to ascertain the duties upon our products, chargeable in the British col- onies. No opposition was made to the passage of the resolutions. Mr. Smith of Maryland, argued that a fair trial had not been made of the effect of the West- India treaty, during the short time the trade had been open; that our mer- chants having been engaged with their vessels in other channels, while the trade was closed, were not prepared to engage in it when first opened to them; that the trade, owing to the intervention 158 Politics and Statistics. of the winter months, had, in fact, been open to us only seven months; that it was increasing daily; that every ship- yard in the United States was fully em- ployed, many of the vessels being for the West-India trade; and finally, that the simple clearances for the neutral trade, owing to the complicated nature of the voyages of vessels in search of a market amonn the Islands, afforded no criteria on wihich to form a judgement of the actual bona fide navigation em- ployed in it. The resolutions were agreed to on the 22d. A bill making an appropriation of two hundred thousand dollars, for carrying on the armament of the Fortifications was introduced by Mr. Smith. The amount was exactly double the ordinary appropriation. On the 28th, the Milita- ry Committee reported that the bill ought to be rejected, which report, after some debate, was concurred in, ayes 31, noes 7. On the 3d of January, the Secretary of the Senate and Clerk of the House of Representatives, made a detailed re- port of their proceedings, under the di- rection of the last Congress, in prepar- ing for publication the State Papers of the thirteen first Congresses. The doc- uments have been divided into ten dis- tinct classes, each class arranged chro- nologically; and, when completed, the work will contain all the Executive Messages, all the Reports of Heads of Departments and of Committees of Congress, upon our Foieign Relations, Indian Affairs, Finances, Commerce and Navigation, Military and Naval Affairs, Post Office, Public Lands and Claims, and all othe, important papers arranged under the head of Miscella- neous. A letter from the Secretary of the Treasury, was communicated on the 5th of January, in reply to a call from the Senate, showing the annual amount of drawbacks from 1792 to 1830 inclu- sive; from which it appears that the total amount of drawback On foreign merchandize, exported, has been On domestic refined sugar, ex- $155,876,516 74 ported, On domestic distilled spirits, ~ ~ exported, On domestic manufactured 993,126 52 snuff, Bounty on pickled fish and 20,547 26 salted provisions, 600,573 77 Allowances to vessels employ- ed in the fisheries, - - 4,540,816 60 $162,293,457 11 During the same time,there have been exported, 13,181,220 quintals dried, 2,356,930 barrels, and 281,202 kegs pick- led fish; 2,714,ll6barrels beef,1,987,334 barrels pork, and 48,963,546 pounds bacon. On the 9th, Mr. Clay offered a reso- lution, directing the Committee on Fi- nance to report a bill reducing the du- ties upon wines and silks, and abolishing forthwith the duties upon all articles imported from foreign countries and not coming in competition with similar ar- ticles produced within the United States. On the 11th, Mr. Clay gave his views, at some length, of the present condition of the revenue, and the meas- ures for reducing it which were authoriz- ed by its prosperous condition. He con- sidered the protecting system self-vindi- cated and too firmly established to need any support or discussion. He assumed that, for all practical purposes, the public debt was to be considered as extinguish- ed; and, as he objected to retaining the present revenue or the purpose of dis- tributing the surplus, he argued that the present was the proper time to re- peal or reduce the existing duties. He said the annual revenue should be suf- ficient to meet all proper demands upon the government; and that permanent and effectual provision should be made either from the exterior revenue or the proceeds of the public lands, and he preferred the latter,for Internal Im- provements. This was due to the west- ern people, and they would demand it as a right, it was impracticable to fix upon the exact amount which would hereafter be required for the govern- ment; but as the present amount greatly exceeded any estimate, he proceeded to suggest the measures by which it might be reduced. He proposed three modes. First, to reduce the duties upon all arti- cles in the same ratio, without regard to the principle of protection; to which it was an insuperable objection that it would inevitably destroy our home man- ufactures. Second, to retain the du- ties upon unprotected, and augment those on protected articles; which was still more objectionable to the foes of the Tariff, and by diminishing the im- portation of the foreign article, would diminish the revenue, and deprive us of the benefit of competition. Third, to abolish and reduce the duties on unpro- tected articles, retaining and enforcing the faithful collection of those on the protected articles. This was the most equitable and reasonable, consistent with the practice of the government from its foundation, and admitted as the true principle by every prominent pol- itician, and by the address of the Free Trade Convention. The duties, how- Politics and Statistics. 159 ever, should be merely adequate to the end,protection; more than that would be unnecessary, less than that injurious to all. If the system was to be preserv- edand its abandonment would produce as great a shock as a declaration of war forthwith against the most powerful na- tion of Europe,it ought to be faithful- ly enforced, against the present scanda- lous violations and gross frauds. To obtain this necessary object, he propos- ed two radical changes. First, to change, the place of valuation. At present we fix the duties, but foreigners assess the value on articles paying ad valorem du- ties; we prescribe the rule, and leave the foreigner to execute it. The effect of this had been to throw the import trade of the country, in certain articles, into foreign hands; and seven eighths of the importation of woollens at IN ew- York, where more is received than in all the other ports, were on foreign an- count, under invoices made by persons not responsible to our laws, and vouch- ed for, when questioned or contested, by cart-loads of certificates from un- known persons. To remedy this, we must ourselves ascertain the value, as well as impose the duty, according to the practice of other countries. The other change alluded to, was to reduce the credits allowed on the payment of duties, or, if possible, to abolish them al- together. The present credits operate as so much capital, to the foreigner, on which he performs several voyages be- fore the time ofpayment; while no such advantage is given to the American in any foreign port. By making this change for the benefit of our own in- dustry, the foreigner would no longer be supplied with capital for his opera- tions, at the public expense. If the laws could be enforced, and some such alterations carried into effect, a satisfac- tory reduction might he made, without impairing the principle of protection. Should the measure proposed in the resolution be adopted, it would lead to a reduction of the receipts to the a- mount of about seven millions. As the importation of the past year had been excessive, (the gross receipts amount- ing to more than thirty millions) the his- tory of our commerce demonstrated that the speculations of the present year would be more guarded, and the years 1829 or 1830 would furnish surer guides for estimating the receipts of this year. The receipts of those years were about twenty-four millions eight hundred and forty thousand dollars. Mr. Clay as- sumed twenty-five millions as the an- nual revenue from all sources,in cluding three millions, a large estimate, as the receipts from the public lands. The proposed reduction of seven mill- ions, would leave the annual revenue for future years, at eighteen millions. With this reduction, and the proper en- forcementof the laws, the country might safely pause, and wait the develop- ment of the effect. Other measures might be adopted, and, in some cases, an augmentation of the duties, for the purpose of reducing the revenue; the duty on foreign distilled spirits, for in- stance, might be made prohibitory, with manifest advantage. The plan propos- ed by the Secretary of the Treasury for reducing the revenue,(to reduce no part of the duties on unprotected articles be- fore March, 1833, and then to retain a considerable portion of them, and to make a gradual reduction on the pro- tected class,) was shown to be fatal to the protecting system; as every de- scending degree in the scale of gradual reduction, by letting in more of the for- ei gn article to displace the domestic fabrick, would increase the revenue, and beget a necessity for a further and fur- ther reduction oftheduties,which would end in a total subversion of the system. After showing that the plan proposed in the resolution might be adopted without delaying the payment of the public debt, Mr. Clay concluded his remarks, by asking why the opponents of the American System should demand of its friends an unconditional surrender? Why did not the articles not produced, offer a field of fair compromise upon which all could enter? The common object was to relieve the burthens of the people, if they could be said to be burthened, by a reduction of the duties. Government must have a certain amount of revenue from the imports. How was it material to the consumer, provided the amount of his tax were the same, whether it was levied upon a few or many objects? And if the assessment could be made upon objects which would benefit a large portion, without injuring any, what was the objection to such a division? Mr. Hayne, of South-Carolina, im- mediately replied, in substance, that the public debt was p aid. Upwards of twelve millions of dollars, therefore, ceased tobe a charge upon the country, and to this extent, at least, the public might expect an immediate reduction. Instead of this, the resolution proposed that the amount of six or seven millions only should be taken off, and the reduc- tion exclusively confined to unprotected articles; in other words, that articles of 160 Politics and Statistics. universal consumption should be entire- ly relieved, while the duties on the pro- tected articles were to remain untouch- ed, and thus a system which was felt to be a bounty in one quarter, and an in- supportable burthen in another, was to be perpetuated. The true question pre- sented was, whether the protecting sys- tem was to be wholly untouched, and to be rivetted upon the country beyond all hopeof relief; and in this aspect he considered it pregnant with the future destinies of this country. How could gentlemen expect the opponents of the system to meet them on ground which involved no concession whatever to their views? If there was to be no re- duction now, when the debt was paid, and the Tariff re-adjusted, and if the moderate plan recommended by the Secretary of the Treasury was rejected, it was evident that there was to be no reduction of the protecting duties, at any time; and in this view, he would repeat, it was his deep conviction that the consequences to grow out of the ad- justment of this great question involved the future destinies of the country. In order to approach the subject with be- coming caution and wary steps, he mov- ed a postponement of the resolution until the 16th. House. Various memorials praying for the abolition of Slavery in the Dis- trict of Columbia, having been referred by the House to the Committee on the District, that committee made a report on the 19th December, in which they argued that it would be impolitic if not unjust to grant the prayer of the peti- tioners until the States surrounding the District had devised some means of eradicating or diminishing the evil; and they requested to be discharged from any further consideration of the sub- ject,which report was accepted by the House. On the 22d of December, Mr. Blair, of Tennessee, proposed the appointment of a committee to consider the expediency of distributing the proceeds of the pub- lic lands among the several states, to be expended on works of Internal Im- provement. Mr. Vinton, of Ohio, sug- gested a substitute, which was accept- ed, requiring the committee to be ap- pointed to inquire into the expediency of providing a system of gradually clos- ing up the sales of the public lands, and of appropriating the proceeds of the sales to national objects. Mr. Duncan, of Illinois, then moved as an amend- ment, an entire new resolution, requir- ing a report upon the propriety of ap- propriating one third of the proceeds of future sales, to objects of Internal Im- proveinent in the states where the lands are sold, one third to the construc- tion of roads and canals from the west- ern rivers and northern lakes, to the Atlanti~ cities, and the remaining third to purposes of education. The debate which ensued upon these several prop- ositions was continued from day to day until the 4th of January, when the res- olutions were laid upon the table, on motion of Mr. Wickliffe, of Kentucky, ayes 109, noes 70. It was argued upon one side, that the several states, in ced- ing lands to the government, had set- tled the manner of distributing the pro- ceeds, and that Congress could not de- part from that mode; that our present system of land laws was the best that had ever been devised by the wisdom of man, and infinitely preferable to any that was likely to be proposed; and final- ly, that Congress had no right to appro- priate the proceeds of the national do- main to the objects specified. In reply, it was urged (by Mr. Duncan, of Illi- nois,) that the resolution merely propos- ed an inquiry; that the present mode of disposing of the proceeds of the lands is oppressive to the new states, exact- ing from the people the highest prices, and expending nearly the whole amount on the sea-board; that the present sys- tem of selling held up the price of infe- rior lands until the settlements around them made them valuable, and thus re- tarded the settlement of the country; that Congress had bargained the new states out of their right to tax the pub- lic lands, thus taking from them the most important right of sovereignty, while the states were obliged to make roads and other improvements, which operated as much for the benefit of the public lands, as for the citizens of the states; and finally, that it was just to expend a portion of the money among the people from whom it was drawn. The memorial of the President of the United States Bank for a renewal of the charter of that institution, was present- ed to the Senate on the 9th of January, by Mr. Dallas, of Pennsylvania, and on the same day to the House, by Mr. McDuffie, of South-Carolina. In the former body it was referred to a select committee, composed of Mr. Dallas, Mr. Webster, of Massachusetts, Mr. Ewing, of Ohio, Mr. Hayne of South-Carolina, and Mr. Johnston of Louisiana. In the House, Mr. Wayne, of Georgia, moved a reference to a select committee, and Mr. McDuffie proposed the Committee of Ways and Means. An animated debate ensued upon this question of reference, Polities and Statistics. 161 which was determined in favor of the latter motion, ayes 100, noes 90. It was argued on one aide that the Committee of Ways and Means had, two years since, reported in favor of the an that the chairman of the committee (Mr. MoDuffie) had avowed himself still friendly to it, that it was not such a financial matter as naturally belonged to that committee, that the charter of the present Bank had been reported by a select committee, and also that the presentation of the memorial at the present moment was a political move- ment, urged on by the late Convention at Baltimore, and intended to produce some effect upon the community, by forcing the President to sign or reject the bill prior to the next election. In reply, it was urged that a portion of the Committee of Ways and Means was uncommitted, being new members of the House, whose opinions were un- known, and that, if it was desirable to have a report adverse to the Bank, it would come from a minority of the Ways and Means, as well as from a se- lect committee; that any proposition for a modification, an amendment, or a substitute, for the charter which might be prepared by the Ways and Means could be offered in the House, and if more acceptable it would be sustained, notwithstanding the report of the com- mittee; that no body of men in the country could be less influenced by po- litical considerations than the directors of the Bank; that every thing which transpired at Baltimore was as well known nine months ago as at the ad- journment of that Convention; and fi- nally, that the President himself had sought an opportunity of deciding upon the Bank question, by urging it upon Congress, in each of his three annual messages. On the 3d of January, Mr. Pendleton, of New-York, offered certain resolutions asserting that it is expedient to bring in a bill to regulate and declare the ap- pellate jurisdiction of the Supreme Court of the United States in criminal cases arising in the state courts; that in the proposed bill, the provisions of the 25th section of the Judiciary Act of 1789, shall be declared to apply the final judgements in criminal cases, which shall arise in the state courts; that actequate provision shall be inserted, to enforce the return of all processes and proceedings in the court below to the Supreme Court; that in all cases a writ of error to be allowed in pursuance of the Act, shall have the effect to sus- pend the execution of the judgement complained of; and that adequate penai- ties shall be imposed upon any person. or persons who shall, in this respect, vi- olate the provisions of the Act. Mr. Pendleton moved a reference of the resolutions to a committee of the whole on the state of the Union, but said he had no design to ask the House to com mit itself on the propositions. A mo- tion was made by Mr. Wilde, of Geor- gia, to lay the subject on the table,a. motion which precluded debate,and which succeeded, yeas 99, nays 89. During the same session, Mr. Mercer, of Virginia, submitted a resolution declar ing that, as soon as the public lands shall be released from all present liens upon them, the proceeds of their sales shall be applied under the direction of the state legislatures, one half to purpo- ses of education, and the remainder to the removal of free people of color to Liberia, or elsewhere, beyond the limits of the Union. Mr. Clay, of Alabama, moved to lay this resolution, also, upon the table, which motion prevailed on the ensuing day; ayes 124, nays 54. The Cherokees. At the annual meet- ing of the Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, a memorial was ad- dressed to the President of the United States, in behalf of the agents of the Board, Messrs. Butler and Worcester, who are now in the Georgia Peniten- tiary. The following note was sent in reply to the memorial. It will be ob- served that the President takes upon himself a legislative power as well as the responsibility of deciding a judicial question. DEPARTMENT OF Wan, November 14, 1831. Sir: I have received and submitted to the President the memorial of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, transmitted in your letter of the 3d instant, and I am in- structed by him to inform you, that having on mature consideration satisfied himself that the legislatures of the re- spective states have power to extend their laws over all persons living within their boundaries, and that, when thus extended, the various acts of Congress providing a mode of proceeding in cases of Indian intercourse, inconsistent with these laws, become inoperative, he has no authority to interfere, under the cir- cumstances stated in the memorial. I have the honor to be, very respectfully, your obedient servant, (Signed) LEWIS CASS. WILLIAM REED, Esq. Chairman of the Prudential Committee of the A. B. C. F. M., Boston. 162 Politics and Statistics. MAINE. The Legislature met at Augusta, for the first time since the removal of the seat of government, on the 4th of Jan- uary. The Message of Governor Smith was transmitted on the 9th. It relates principally to the affairs of the state. In regard to the unsettled Boun- dary question, the Governor says the United States have assumed the exclu- sive management of the controversy, notwithstanding the remonstrance of the state; and that they are bound, in definitively settlingit, to regard the rights uaranteed to Maine; having no power, ytheFederal Constitution, to alienate, by negotiation, or otherwise, any portion of the territory of the state, without its consent. The line fixed upon by the Arhiter is rejected by all parties, and as he has exceeded the limits of his au- thority, the Governor does not consider his award in any manner binding. It is recommended to the Legislature to refrain from any acts of authority over the disputed territory which may tend to protract or embarrass the settlement of the question. The individuals who were imprisoned at Frederickton were released, and their fines remitted on the application of the United S1~ates Government to the Governor of New- Brunswick. Agricultural Societies and Literary Institutions are recommended to the attention of the Legislature. The proceeds of the labor of the con- victs in the State Prison, are sufficient to meet the expenses of that institution. During the last year, the sum of $131,200 has been received on account of the claim of Mass~ichusetts against the United States; $t9,830 of the debt due from the state has been redeemed, and $28,750 has been loaned to banks, or invested in bank stock. In conclu- sion, the Message congratulates the legislature upon having so little busi- ness to transact, and the probability of a short session. A report was soon made to the legisla- tare on the subject of the Northeastern boundary, which concluded with reso- lutions declaring that the state will never consent to surrender any portion of its territory upon the recommenda- tion of a foreign power; that the King of Holland has not decided the question ~submitted to him; and that the consti- tution gives the United States no power to transfer any portion of the territory of a state; and directing the appoint- ment of an Agent to co-operate with the representatives at Washington in up- iholding the right of the state. MASSACHUSETTS. Legislature. The legislature of the state assembled at Boston on the 4th of January, and the government was or- ganized in the usual form. The Gov- ernors Message was read on the 9th. Among the matters mentioned as re- quiring early attention are, the district- ing the state for the choice of sena- tors upon the basis of the late valua- tion, and also the arrangement of new Congressional districts. The alteration of the present law relating to the elec- tion of representatives to on ress, and a restriction of the time for the return of votes, was recommended, and a bill for that purpose having been introduced was immediately passed. The remarks upon the amendment to the Constitution which passed the last legislature, are adverse to the principles upon which it is founded An amendment of the laws relating to imprisonment for debt is strenuously advocated. The State Pris- on is said to have reached a satisfactory point of improvement, and to have been converted into a school of salutary in- struction and reform. The number of convicts have been reduced, within the last year, from 290 to 256. The finan- cial affairs of the prison are also in a more favorable condition. The balance against the prison in 1830 was nearly $7000; this has been reduced to $477 47. It is anticipated that the earnings of the prison will hereafter be more than ade- quate to its ordinary expenses. The Hospital for the Insane will be ready for occupants during the next summer, and will accommodate the superintend- ent and one hundred and twenty luna- tics. It remains for the legislature to provide the means of furnishing the building, adopt a system of government for the institution, authorize the re- movalof the patients from the county jails, and settle the terms upon which others are to be allowed to partake of the charity. The late Nathaniel Maccarty, of Worcester, bequeathed $500 to the state in trust, for the purpose of orna- menting the grounds belonging to the hospitaf. The map of the state from ac- tual surveys aud admeasurements upon trigonometrical principles, is in progress, but will require another year. The geolo~ical survey of the Common- wealt is nearly completed. The nec- essary examinations of the country have been mostly made, and the First Part of an elaborate scientific report, comprising The Economical Geology of the State, or an account of our Rocks, Soils, and Minerals, that may be applied Politics and Statistics. to useful purposes, and thus become sources of pecuniary profit, accompa- nied with a map, delineating by dis- tinctive numbers and colorings, the vari- ous minerals and rock formations which prevail, has been transmitted to the Ex- ecutive. The plan of the Professor pro- poses that the Report should consist of Four Parts; the second part to exhibit the Topographical Geology, or an ac- count of the most interesting features of our scenery; the third part, the Scientific Geology, or an account of our rocks in their relation to science, and the fourth part to contain catalogues of the native Mineralogical, Botanical and Zoological productions of the state. Under the authority of a Resolve of the 2d of Feb- ruary last, and with the advice of the Executive Council, arrangements have been made to procure the immediate publication of the first part of the Re- port, with lithographic colored impres- sions of the map. A fire-proof building for the preservation of the public records, has been erected in the rear of the state house. The sales of the public lands in the state of Maine, between the first of February and the sixth of December, amounted to $35,499 60. The Governor is of opinion thatthe award of the King of Holland, in relation to our boundary, is altogether void; and he says he sees no constitutional power in the nation to require an acquiescence in it, on the part of the states which would be preju- diced by its adoption. It appears that the Secretary of War has declined pro- ceeding in the adjustment of our claim upon the general government beyond the point where it was closed by his predecessor, without the autkori~y of a special act of Congress. The business now rests with the Agent of the state, under instructions to consult with the delegation in Congress. In relation to the Militia, the Message states that the laws now enforced have given rise to exemptions and evasions scarcely less in the aggregate than the muster-rolls ofthetrain-bandsthemselves. The Gov- ernor thinks the public attention has been so universally awakened, and the complaints have become so general, that the attention of Congress must be called to the subject; but he pronounces all state legislation unavailing to re- move the complaints which exist with- out an alteration of the law of Congress. The disbursements on account of the state, within the year have amounted to $381,481 68; the receipts have amount- ed to but $325,059 23; leaving a bal- ance against the state of $56,422 45. Of the disbursements, one item was for the payment of members of the legisla- ture, $101,271. This amount will be reduced hereafter, by dispensing with one session of the General Court, and still further reductions will be made by the statute enlarging the criminal juris- diction of the Common Pleas. It is stated that the expenses of the govern- ment are less than one fifth part of the disbursements from the Treasury; the remainder of the aggregate is composed of various grants and immunities, which are denominated the fitting contribu- tions of a prosperous age to the cause and progress of human improvement. The Governor communicated resolu- tions of the state of Maine, denying the constitutional right of Congress to en- gage in a sy stem of Internal Improve- ments; and the Message concludes with some remarks upon the fallacy and dan- ger of the doctrines of nullification. State Valuation. The Valuation Com- mittee, which is required by the Consti- tution to value and assess the whole Commonwealth, once in ten years, fin- ished its session about the first of Janu- ary. The following table, shows the aggregate of polls and property, as finally fixed by the Committee, and the apportionment of $1000 on each, to- gether with the increase per cent. from the last valuation. 88 ~ 5. ~ ~ o,oo,-~--,~ 0 ~ 0wu~-~-~c~-j ~ n~ -~ - 8 ~ u ~ ~i - ~ 0 ~ ~0~0 ~00 0 0~J ~ 0 0-~, C~ * * * 8 ~ At the last valuation, in 1821, the amount ofproperty was $153,644,267 77, and the number of polls, 122,715. Ac- cording to the above estimate, the in- crease of property in ten years has been $55,263,839 77, and of polls 27,876. Banks. It appears from the Abstract of the Bank Returns, that there were in 163 164 Politics and Statistics. this state, on the 1st of October last, seventy chartered banking corporations, and that their capital stock paid in was $21,439,800; bills in circulation, $7,739,317; nett profits on hand, $734,312 33; balances due to other banks, $2,477,615 43; cash deposited, & c. not bearing interest, $4,401,965 62; cash deposited, and bearing interest, $4,550,947 68; due from the banks $41,393,083 33; gold, silver, & c. in banks, $919,959 73; in real estate, $683,307 89; bills of banks in this state, $1,104,567 29; bills of banks elsewhere, $270,606 88; balances due from other banks, $2,427,679 37; due to the banks, excepting balances, $36,040,760 76; total resources of the banks, $41,445,700 09; amount of last dividend, $566,715; amount of reserved profits, $409,128 76; debts secured by pledge of stock, $752,312 37; debts due, and considered doubtful, $268,687 81; rate of dividend on amount of capital of the banks, as existing when dividend was made, 3 per cent. less 1-3 of 1-100th part of 1 per cent. Eight of the seventy being new banks,made no dividend on the 1st October. Of the seventy-two banks now in existence, twenty-two are lo- cated and transact business in Boston, eiqhteen in the county of Essex, five in Middlesex, one in Plymouth, seven in Bristol, two in Barnstable, three in Nantucket, two in Norfolk, six in Wor- cester, three in Hampshire, one in Franklin, and two in Berkshire. Finances. By the Treasurers Report it appears that the operations of the year 1831 were as follows: In the Treasury, January 1, $25,275 25 Received from State Taxes, 73,691 00 Bank Tax, - - 196,908 93 Auction Tax, - - 26,005 23 Of Claim on United States, 419,748 26 Of Lands in Maine, - 17,980 81 Borrowed, - - 262,000 00 interest, 9,272 38 Miscellaneo,,s, - - - - 833 75 Of County Treasurers, - - 367 13 $1,032,082 71 Paid Expenses of the Government, $270,435 78 Loaned, 414,950 00 Paid to County Treasurers, 39,091 11 State Prison, - - 8,000 00 For building Lunatic Hospital, 22,000 00 Deaf and Dumb, - 6,745 25 Agricultural Societies, - 3,230 76 Borrowed Money, - 217,100 00 Interest, 6 860 07 Miscellaneous, - - - - 25,118 71 Balance on hand, - - - 18 551 03 $1,032,082 71 Skeep. It appears from the returns made to the Valuation Committee, that there are 360,682 sheep in Massachu- setts, and that each county owns of them as follows: Berkshire, 99,253, Hampshire, 54,714, Franklin, 46,273, Worcester, 41,100, Hampden, 34,320, Bristol, 17,099, Plymouth, 14,603, Dukes 11,692, Barnstable, 10,868, Middlesex, 10,777, Essex, 9,200, Nantucket, 6,1241 Norfolk, 3,639, Suffolk, 520. NEW-YORK. Legislature. The Legislature of this state met at Albany on Tuesday, the 3d of January. From the Message of Gov- ernor Throop, which was immediately communicated, it appears that the state participates largely in the general pros- perity of the country. The state owes no debt except fonts Canals. This debt amounted, on the first of January, 1831, to $7,825,035; on the first of January, 1832, it amounted to 8,055,645. Dur- ing the year, $9,653 of the stock has been cancelled, but $240,263 were bor- rowed to complete the works upon the Chemung Canal. The receipts into the Treasury on account of the Canals for ten months, ending on the 30th of Sep- tember, were, from tolls, $722, 896; from other sources, $307,012. The expendi- tures upon the Canals for the same time, amounted to $506,866; leaving a balance of $523,045, which has been added to the fund for the extinguish- ment of the debt. This fund amounts to $238,198, which being deducted from the Canal debt, reduces that to $5,817,447. The whole amount re- ceived for tolls up to the closing of the navigation, was $1,222,423. It is stat- ed that the nominal amount of the gen- eral fund, on the 30th of September, was $1,131,221; but its real value was supposed to be $805,987. The receipts from it, applicable to the expenses of the government for the ensuing year, are estimated at $112,100; the expendi- tures for the same time are estimat- ed at $269,967. The amount paid out of the Treasury, up to the 30th of September, was $265,502. The ex- cess of the expenses above the receipts of the general fund is paid from other sources. The Governor states that the means for supplying the disbursements will soon be exhausted, and that new sources of revenue must be opened; for this purpose he suggests a develop- mont of the physical resources of the state, by opening to different regions their appropriate markets; and, to ef- fect this object, recommends a consider- ation of the many propositions for con- structing rail-ways by private compa- niesreserving to the state the right to take possession of them as public prop- Politics and Statistics. 165 erty, at pleasure, upon equitable terms. There are 9316 school districts in the state, containing 507,657 children, be- tween the ages of five and sixteen years, and more than 505,900 have been instructed in the schools. The amount paid to teachers is $605,729. The Gov- ernor recommends, as requiring urgent attention, the condition of the insane poor, who are perishing from neglect and harsh treatment in the different counties, and a separate penitentiary for female convicts, which should be erected in the vicinity of Sing Sing. The number of convicts in the two state prisonsat Auburn and Sing Singis nearly sixteen hundred, and it is neces- sary that the prisons should be immedi- ately enlarged. The present system entails but little expense upon the state; the earnings of the prisoners at Auburn more than pay the expenses of the in- stitution, and the prisoners at Sing Sing have earned $40,000 within the year, besides building extensive additions to the establishment. Seventy-three con- victs have been pardoned and dismissed, for various considerations, during the year. The number of the militia is 189,000, and there are in the different arsenals, 48,547 muskets, 2409 rifles, and 340 pieces of ordnance. The mes- sage contains the usual executive re- commendation of an amendment of the Militia system. Among the most in- teresting topics mentioned in this docu- ment is an experiment in education now going on at Rochester. The pupils rise at four oclock, work three hours and study ten. From an account which has been kept with twenty studer4s during the last quarter, it appears that they are credited for earnings in coopering, join- er s wotk and printing, a sum amount- ing to a trifle short of all the charges against them. It is said that mechani- cal alternates better with study than ag- ricultural labor. The institution was founded last spring; it numbers now sixty-one pupils, and bids fair to real- ize the expectations of its generous patrons. Banks. The Bank Capital actually paid in, in the state of New-York, is $24,136,260; of which $15,561,000 is situated in the City of New-York. Gommerce. The following list com- prises the number of arrivals of vessels and passengers, at the city of NewYork, from foreign ports in the year 1831, viz: January 59, February 108, March 140, April 106, May 172, June 139, July 147, August 169, September 167, Octo- ber 142, November 115, December 130. Total 1634. Passengers by these yes VOL. IT. 22 sels, 31,739. Of the vessels, there were 1204 Americans, 278 English, 8 Spanish, 14 Swedish, 6 Hamburgh, 25 French, 11 Bremen, 2 Haytien, 18 Danish, 1 Mex- ican, 2 Brazilian, 1 Genoese, 1 Russian and 3 Dutch. Of these, there were 387 ships, 42 barques, 757 brigs, 433 schoon- ers, 1 ketch, 1 galliot, 1 polucca, 1 fel- ucca and 11 sloops. Increase of arriv- als over year 1830, 124; and of passen- gers 1515. Fuel. During the last year (1830) the consumption of wood in New-York city, was 205,079 loads of oak, 49,244 of hickory, and 52,283 of pine; making a total of 297,506 loads, at an aggregate cost of $493,085 86. Add to this 26,605 1-2 tons of Anthracite coal, 11,875 chaldrons Virginia, and 12,593 of charcoal, at a cost of $321,642 34, and the amount is increased to $814,728 20. The quantity of Liverpool and some other kinds of coal consumed there are no means of knowing. But if we include the whole, with the cost of cartin , & c. the expense of fuel for the cityo~New-Yorkcannotbelessthana million of dollars per annum. Rochester. A late number of the Rochester Republican contained the fol- lowing schedule, showing the estimated amount of the money invested in the real estate, buildings and machinery, of the various manufacturing and mechan- ical establishments of that place, and their produce per annum. Factories, 4e. Iavestm t. dmual hint. Flooring Mills, $281,000 $1,331,000 Cotton Goods, 50,000 30,000 Woollen do., 70,000 112,000 Leather, & c., 25,000 166,000 Iron Work, 24,000 46,000 Rifles, & c., 3,000 5,000 Soap and Candles, 6,000 45,000 Groceries, & c., 21,000 32,800 Tobacco, 4,500 18,000 Pail, Sash, & c., 2,500 12,000 Boat Building, 11,000 40,200 Linseed Oil, 3,000 4,000 Globe building factories, 10,000 15,000 $511,000 $1,857,000 in addition to the above, the trade of the place in lumber, beef and pork, pot and pearl ashes, butter, cheese, lard, wool, consumed there and shipped; business done by the various transpor- tation companies; building, & c., amount perhaps to more than half a million of dollars. There are also, about 100 wholesale and retail stores, (not includ- ing small retailers,) doing a safe and in many instances an extensive business in dry goocfs, clothing, hats, groceries, hardware, drugs, paints, produce, tin, copper, sheet-iron. brass-founding, jew- elry, & c. & c. Within the last year 242,000 barrels of Flour have been made, 166 and the millers have paid for wheat to the farmers of the neighborhood and of Ohio, $1,160,000. DELAWARE. A convention to revise the constitu- tion of this state adjourned early in De- cember, after a session of twenty-five days. Under the provisions of the Amended Constitution, the legislature is to meet biennially ; the representa- tivesno property qualification being requiredto be chosen for two years, and the senators for four years. No act of incorporation is to be passed with- out the concurrence of two thirds of each branch, nor to be for a longer pe- riod than twenty years without re-enact- ment. The Governor is to be chosen for four years, and thereafter to be in- eligible. All free white citizens, of the age of twenty-two years, vote after one years residence in the state; all be- tween twenty-one and twenty-two vote without the payment of a tax. PENNSYLVANIA. Finances. Summary statement of the receipts at the State Treasury, com- mencing on the 1st day of December, 1830, and ending the 31st day of Octo- ber, 1831. Lands and Land Office Fees, Auction Commissions, - - Auction Duties, - - - Dividends on Bank Stuck, - Dividends on Bridge, Canal, and Turnpike Stock, Tax on Bank Dividends, - - Tax on Offices, - - - - Tax on Writs, & c. - - - Tavern Licences, - - - Duties on Dealers in foreign mer. Collateral Inheritances, - - Militia and exempt fines, - - Canal Tolls, - - - - Loans, Premiums on Loans, - - - Commissioners of the Internal Improvement Fund, - - Old Debts and Miscellaneous, - Balance in Treasury, Dec. 1, 1830, $103,329 18 12,100 00 126,504 85 106,498 50 34,398 12 30,572 98 7,464 53 18,979 89 40,146 94 51,445 38 19 062 81 1,381 41 38,241 20 2,199,948 54 103,196 91 125,000 00 15,707 36 149,430 79 $3,183,409 36 Summary statement of the Payments at the Treasury, commencing on the 1st day of December, 1830, and ending on the 31st day of October, 1831. Internal Improvements. - - $2,335,373 62 Expenses of Government, - - 193,306 91 Militia Expenses, - - - 20,515 72 Members of Courts Martial, - 2,343 48 Pensions and Gratuities, - - 22,226 84 Education, ----- 11,185 13 Interest on Loans, - - - 91,535 00 Internal Improvement Fund, - 2,682 40 Penitentiary at Philadelphia, - 3,746 53 Penitentiary at Pittsburg, - - 2,624 25 Miscellaneous, - - - - 11,396 76 Balance in Treasury, Nov. 1,1831. 124,482 82 $3,183,409 36 MARYLAND. Finances. By the last annual report of the Treasurer, it appears that The actual inconse of the State for the year which ended on the 1st of De- cember, was - - - $239,895 19 To which being added the bal- ance in the Treasury on the 1st December, 1830, - - - 54,106 88 The available aggregate amounted to $294,002 07 The disbursements for the year, 216,824 43 $77,177 64 Subject to appropriations to that day then uncalled for, - - 41,810 42 Leaving a clear unappropriated balance in the Treasury on the 1st December, 1831, of $35,367 22 Which will enable the Committee on Ways and Means to discharge the entire amount of the public debt, which is payable at the pleasure of the State. The Rail Road and Canal. The legal question which has embarrass- ed the operations of the Baltimore and Ohio Rail Road Company, and the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Company, has been decided by the Court of Ap- peals in favor of the latter, they revers- ing tlae opinion of the Chancellor which had been given in favor of the former. Both companies had selected the same route, on the north bank of tlae Poto- mac. The injunction having been re- moved, the Canal Company have made contracts for their work as far as Har- pers Ferry, and the Rail Road Compa- ny, although obliged to change their plans, are confident in their ability to conclude the great work within the time originally contemplated. VIRGINIA. Financial. According to the report of the Treasurer, the amount on hand, October 31, was, of the Ordinasy Fund, ~ 106,595 71, Literary Fund, $59,527 80, nternal Improvement, $58,021 62, James River Company, $67,969 26, ag- gregate $29~2,114 39. To which add the difference between the receipts and disbursements to December 23d, $203,435 85, on hand at that time, $495,550 24. Slavery. A petition of the Society of Friends, adopted at their yearly meeting, praying for some attention to the evils of slavery, was lately presented to the Virginia Legislature, and after some debate was referred to the consid- eration of a committee, by a large ma- jority. The Richmond Whig remarks upon the fact, This is an important step. The question of remote and gradual abolition, is under the consider- ation & f the General Assembly. Cir- cumstances have subdued the morbid Politics and Statistics. Politics and Statistics. 167 sensitiveness which disallowed even public allusion to the topic. Public opinion ~can now act out to its wishes. Events will demonstrate the groundless- ness of apprehension from considering the question of abolition. The people of the commonwealth will feel em- boldened to express their wishes openly and unreservedly, and the practicability of ridding ourselves of an evil which all men confess tobe the sorest which ev- er nation groaned under, will now be test- ed. We do not know that yesterday will not be celebrated by posterity, as a day entitled to be associated with the Fourth of July, by the benefits which may flow to Virginia from the step then taken. One of the memorials upon this sub- ject, which was accompanied by spirited resolutions, contained the following lan- guage. Your memorialists hold three propositions to be fully proved by sad experience; first, that the labor of the slaves, in a community like ours, is the most expensive that can be used. Sec- ondly, that slavery tends to lay waste the region in which it subsists; and thirdly, that it fills with apprehension and inquietude the bosoms of those who employ it. Is not all this literally and mournfully true? A sense of the com- mon interest, a love of peace, the senti- ment of security for all that is dear to the heart of social man, combine to ad- jure Virginians to make a great exertion, a becoming sacrifice to deliver their soil from an evil, serious now, terrible in prospect. The House of Delegates, passed a bill on the 30th of December, authoriz- ing the Board of Public Wwks, to as- sume the jurisdiction over that portion of the National Road passing through the Commonwealth of Virginia, when- ever the Government of the United States shall consent to relinquish the same, and providing for the erection of toll-houses, and fixing the rates of tolls thereon. Philosophical and Historical Society. A meeting was held at the capitol, in Richmond, on the 29th of December, for the purpose of forming a Philosophi- cal and Historical Society. the object of which is to collect and preserve mate- rials for a civil and physical history of Virginia, after the plan of the Historical Societies of Massachusetts and New- York. A constitution, designating the officers proper to be appointed and their duties, was immediately adopted, and signed, and the following officers were elected: Chief Justice Marshall, Presi- dent; Governor Floyd, first Vice-Presi- dent; President Cushing of Hampden Sydney College,second Vice-President; John B. Clopton, Corresponding Secre- tary; James E. Heath, Recording Sec- retary; Conway Robinson, Treasurer; William H. Richardson, Librarian. Benjamin Watkins Leigh, Dr. John Brockeubrough, G. A. Myers, G. H. Bacchus, and Professor Tucker, were appointed a Committee to digest and prepare business for the Society. Presi- dent Cushing was appointed Orator for the first anniversary meeting, on the first Monday in January, 1833, to which day the meeting was adjourned. Presi- dent Madison was elected an Honorary Member. SOUTH-CAROLINA. Legislature. Governor Hamilton transmitted the usual message to the Legislature, on the 29th of November, from which it appears that the finances are in a better condition than formerly. Instead of the disbursements exceeding the receipts, which they did last year by the sum of $7,468, they have this year fallen short of them by the sum of $41,533. The receipts this year amount to $276,836, the payments to $235,302. The public debt amounts to $1,753,770, and the sinking fund, in- cluding the profits of the Bank, to $422,852. The Bank made a nett profit the present year of $120,000 on a capital of $1,156,318. The public works have not been so profitable, and it is suggested to sell the roads and ca- nals to private companies at a moderate price. The South-Carolina Canal and Rail-road Company is however bringing its enterprise to an auspicious conclu- sion. Ten miles of their road are trav- ersed by locomotive engines, various detached sections are completed, and the entire road is placed under contract as far as Horsecreek bridge, near Ham- burg, within a few miles or its termina- tion. South-Carolina College is pros- perous; the number of students is 114. The letter of the President of the United States to certain individuals of the Union Party of the state, which is referred to in the September number of this Magazine, was mentioned by the Governor in his message to the Legis- lature, and the subject was referred to a committee. Their report upon the sub- ject concludes with two resolutions, one affirming that the Presidents letter is at once at variance with his duties and the rights of the states, and the other, that wbether the threat contained in the letter (to enforce the laws by military power,) was aimed at the free- dom of discussion, or at the sovereign authority of South-Carolina, it is equally Politics and Statistics. entitled to the decided reprehension of this Legislature, and is incapable of ex- citing any other than an augmented resolution to maintain inviolate the fed- eral principles of the compact. The report pronounces the threat equally impotent and unwise, and denies that the President, or even Congress itself, has any power to call out the military of the state, or to invade a foreign state, for the purpose of enforcing a law passed on dubious and disputed authority. The Presidents Message to Congress having been received dur- ing the session, when this report came up to be acted upon the following reso- lutions were adopted. Resolved, Thatthe letter of the Presi- dent of the United States is an unau- thorized interference in the affairs of the state; that the principles advanced in it are incompatible with the constitution, and subversive of the rights of the states; that the threatened course of Executive conduct would, if acted upon, destroy the liberties of this country; and a threat is of dangerous precedent, and highly repulsive to the feelings of a free people. Resolved, That whilst the Legislature has felt hound thus to notice the letter of the President, it has no desire to ar- ray itself in hostility towards him; but, on the contrary, at this moment enter- tains feelings of gratification in consider- ma the late message of the President as at#ording indications of a change of opin- ions more favorable than heretofore to the principles maintained by this state. The Legislature adjourned on the 17th of December. The ,number of acts passed was thirty-two. Among them were a law laying a tax of two per cent. upon United States Bank Stock, and all stock of monied institutions without the state; and a bill permitting evi- dence to be taken in the courts of the state, in case of a bond, showing the consideration for which it is given, un- der the plea of the general issue, in other words, permitting juries to decide on the law as well as the fact in such cases. This enactment, enables juries to decide on the constitutionality of the laws of the United States, in cases of bonds given for duties. A bill to trans- fer the election of electors of President from the Legislature to the people was rejected. GEORGIA. Legislature. Messrs. Samuel A. Worcester and Elizur Butler, Agents of the American Board of Commission- ers for Foreign Missions in the Chero- kee country, were arrested during the summer, under the laws of Georgia, and having refused to take the oath of allegiance to that state, (on the ground that they were citizens of the United States, and that it could not be required of them, were imprisoned in the Geor- gia Penitentiary. Upon motion of their counsel, William Wirt and John Ser- geant, Judge Baldwin of the United States Supreme Court, issued a citation to the authorities of the state, to appear at the bar of the Court and answer the complaint, and show cause why the judgement of the state court should not be reversed. This citation having been communicated to the Legislature, was referred to the Judiciary Commit- tee of the Senate, who made a report thereupon, accompanied by several res- olutions, affirming, in substance, that the law of the state, under which Messers. Butler and Worcester were convicted and imprisoned, is not in violation of either the letter or spirit of the Federal Constitution ; that the state has right of civil and criminal jurisdiction over all the lands, persons and things, within her chartered limits; that the right to interfere with the ju- risdiction of the states has not been conferred upon the Courts of the Unit- ed States, nor is the right of exclu- sive and final jurisdiction in all criminal cases, prohibited to the states; that final jurisdiction, within her limits, is vested in the Superior Courts of Geor- gia, and when they have pronounced sentence, no Court has the right to rehear, overrule and reverse their decis- ions, or impede the execution of their decrees; that any attempt to reverse the decision of the state court in the case of Messrs. Butler and Worcester, by the Supreme Court of the United States, will be held by the state, as an unconstitutional and arbitrary interfer- ence in the administration of her crim- inal laws, and will be treated as such ; that Georgia will not compromit her dignity as a sovereign state, or yield her rights as a member of the confeder- acy, so far as to become a party in any way, to any proceedings before the Su- preme Court, having for their object an interference with the decisions of the state courts ; that every officer of the state be authorized and requested to dis- regard every mandate proceeding from the Supreme Court, for the purpose of arresting the sentence of the state courts; and, finally, that his Excel- lency the Governor, be authorized and required, with all the power and means placed at his command by the constitu- tion and laws of the state, to resist and 168 Politics and Statistics. 169 repel any and every invasion, from whatever direction it may come, upon the administration of the criminal laws of the state. This report was unani- mously adopted by the Senate on the 9th of December. We have not seen the record of the fact, but there can be no doubt from the unanimity of the proceedings, that it did receive the sanction of all the leffislative and ex- ecutive authorities of tie state. Governor Lumpkin recommended an immediate survey of the whole Chero- kee country, but advised a pause before any further steps were taken, in the hope that better counsels might pre- vail among the Indians, and induce them to yield to the measures of the state. The Legislature adjourned on the 24th of December, after passing one hundred and eighty-eight acts. Amoiig them was a law to lay out the gold re- gion in the country occupied by the Cherokees, into small lots, and dispose of the same by lottery. A correspon- dent of the Savannah Georgian, says the lands consist of about 1,500,000 acres. The law divides the reserva- tion into lots of 40 acres, and gives to every citizen of Georgia over 18 years of age, who has resided here three years, one draw, and to every rna.rried man an additional draw. The number of tracts will be about 40,000, and the price of the grants $10. All our citi- zens are, by the bill, permitted to have an interest and a chance for a share of this El Dorado, and the number of grants at $10 will produce for the gen- eral benefit, after deducting the expen- ses, a fund estimated at above *300,000. The bill passed the Senate by a majority of one vote only; the House by a vote of 75 to 30. A report and resolutions against re- chartering the Bank of the United States passed the Senate unanimously, and were laid on the table in the House. A bill was passed abolishing Peniten- tiary imprisonment, and resuming the ancient punishments. A resolution passed offering a re- ward of five thousand dollars to any persoi~i or persons who shall arrest and bring to trial, under the laws of this state, the editor or publisher [William Lloyd Garrison] of a certain paper, called the Liberator, published in Bos- ton, Mass., or any other person or per- sons who shall utter, publish, or circu- late, within the limits of this state, the said paper called the Liberator, or any other paper, circular, pamphlet, letter, or address, of a seditious character ; and directing the Governor to pay the same, and draw his warrant on the Treasury for the amount. Resolutions were adopted by the House, declaring the Tariff unconstitu- tional and oppresssive to the South. Resolutions were also offered, declaring the right of the state to judge of infrac- tions of the constitution, and to judge of the mode and measure of redress, and that when~ it became necessary to adopt measures of redress, it was a question, not of right, but of expedien- cy, having exclusive reference to the consequences which may grow out of the exercise of that right. These res- olutions were laid on the table, yeas, 87 nays,26. Resolutions were also offered for calling a Convention of the United States, for the purpose of amending the Federal Constitution, but they were not acted upon. Education. According to previous notice, about twenty teachers assembled at the court-house in Milledgville. A constitution was adopted for the for- mation of a Teachers Society, to be called the Teachers Society and Board of Education of the State of Georgia. Its objects are to promote the diffusion of knowledge, especially among Teach- ers, to promote harmony and co-opera- tion in their efforts, and uniformity in their mode of teaching, and~ thus to render them more useful in their profes- sion. The 6th article provides for a board of nine censors, whose duties shall be to examine all candidates for membership, and grant them certificates of moral and literary qualifications to teach, and any censor may give such certificate till the next meeting of the society. The regular annual meetings of the society will be held in Milledge- ville, on the 3d Monday in December, and the semi-annual meetings on the 2d Monday in June, at such place as shall be determined by the society. Offi- cers elected under the Constitution; Rev. C. P. Beaman, President. Vice Presidents, Rev. Alonzo Church, Rev. George White, Rev. Otis Smith, James Waddell, Francis D. Cummings, George P. Cooper, A. L. Lewis, Rev. Mr. Al- exander, Thomas B. Slade, Esq. Treas- urer. Rev. R. C. Brown, Rec. and Cor. Secretary. Censors, Rev. Alonzo Church, James P. Waddell, Rev. George White, Thomas B. Slade, Rev. Robert C. Brown, Rev. John S. Wilson, Francis D. Cummings, Rev. C. P. Beaman, Alexander Holbeck. KENTUCKY. Legislature. The Legislature ad- journed on the 21st of December, after an uncommonly short session. But few 170 Politics and Statistics. acts of a public nature, of general in- terest beyond the limits of the state, were passed. A bill to prohibit the im- portation of slaves as merchandize pass- ed the House, but was not acted on by the Senate. The militia law was so amended as to reduce the company miis- ters to one, to be held in April annual ly. The ratio of representation in the state Legislature, was fixed, for a Sen- ator at 2510, for a Representative at 954. Transylvania University. The num- ber of medical students at this institu- tion is 213. The Faculty consists of six professors and one assistant, librarian, & c. The Law class consists of 37. TENNESSEE. Legislature. The Legislature ad- journed on the 21st December, after a session of ninety-four days, in which were enacted one hundred and six laws of a public and general character, and two hundred and eighty-seven of a pri- vate and local nature. United States Bank. The House of Representatives passed resolutions di- recting the Delegation of the state in Congress to resist the re-chartering of the United States Bank; the proposi- tion was rejected in the Senate by an equal division, ten yeas and ten nays. University of JVaskville. It appears by a report to the Legislature, that there are attached to the Nashville Universi- ty, a President with a salary of two thousand dollars a yeara Professor of Chemistry with a salary of one thou- sand dollars a yeara Professor of Mathematics, Astronomy and Natural Philosophy with a salary of one thous- sand dollars a yeara Professor of the Dead Languages, with a salary of six hundred dollars, it being a temporary arrangement. The price of tuition, room rent, and servant hire is fifty dollars a year, to which seven dollars are added for wood in the winter ses- sion. Each graduate has it at his option to receive a diploma or not. If he re- ceives one, he pays a trifle for the parch- ment and a fee of five dollars to the President, which is the lowest gradu- ates fee paid in any university in the United States. The number of stu- dents now in the University is seventy- three, and it is increasing daily. A small proportion of them are in the Sen- ior class. The remainder are pretty equally distributed in the Junior, Soph- omore and Freshman classes. OHIO. Indian Treaties. During the year, the following treaties with the Indian tribes in the state of Ohio, have been successfully negotiated. With the Senecas of Sanduskyex- tinguishing the Indian title to 40,000 acres of land in the counties of Seneca and Sandusky. With the Senecas and Shawnees of Lewistownextinguishing the Indian title to 40,000 acres of land lying on the Great Miami river, in the county of Logan. With the Shawnees of Wapaghkon- ettaextinguishing the Indian title to 92,800 acres in the county of Allen. With the Ottowas of Maumeeex- tinguishing the Indian title to three tracts of land in the counties of Allen and Wood, amounting to 49,760 acres. With the Wyandots of Sandusky plainsextinguishing their title to the Grand Reservation containing 146,216 acres, and the Big Spring Reserva- tion containing 16,000 acres. Total, 162,216. It will be thus seen that the entire quantity of land ceded by the Indian tribes in the State of Ohio, during the last year, under the provisions of the Indian Bill ,is 384,776 acres. MISSISSIPPI. A bill calling a Convention has passed both houses of the Legislature of this state. It is to consist of forty-eight delegates, equal to the whole number of senators and representatives in the Legislature. ALABAMA. University. From the message of Mr. Moore, the late acting governor, we extract the following paragraph. The University of Alabama was pre- pared for the reception of students on the eighteenth day of last April, since which time, with a vacation of ten weeks, it has been in active and suc- cessful operation. The number of stu- dents now is eighty-eight, and others expected shortly. It is a source of much exultation for the infant state of Alabama to hail the commencement of an institution which, from its ample endowments, its healthful situation, its connexion by a navigable stream with seaports and fertile countries, from which may be easily obtained all the necessaries and comforts of life, not furnished by the productiveness of the neighborhood, promises to rival any in- stitution of the kind in the United States. Rev. Dr. Woods, formerly of Providence, is President of this Insti- tution. 171 LITERARY A Memoir of the Life of Daniel Webster, by Samuel L. Knapp. This work was announced more than six months ago as then in press, and the publication has been delayed by circum- stances which are differently represent- ed by the author and the gentleman to whom was attributed some agency in producing the delay. The disputed point we have nothing to do with. The book is now before the public. It ap- p ears to be such an one as almost any literary gentleman, with a file of Mr. Websters speeches before him, could prepare in ten days or ~ fortnight, rather a collection of memorandums than a memoir,written in the usual popular and figurative style of the au- thor, but abounding in evidences of haste and inattention, which, although excusable in a periodical, should not be allowed to escape in more elabo- rate works. Still it is a good book, for certain purposes, and may be exten- sively circulated. Too much can hardly be said, and written, and published, to sustain the characters of the great men of the nation, and to make the people, in all the various sections of our widely extended country familiar with their merits. The people of other nations of France and England, at leastare much better acquainted with their prom- inent statesmen, orators, poets, preach- ers, lawyers, military and naval com- manders, than our citizens are with the good or indifferent qualities of the same classes of persons among us. - In Eng- land, almost every one who writes a short poem or song, makes a tolerable speech in Parliament, or gains a diffi- cult cause in a court, becomes the sub- ject of an engraving and a memoir in a magazine, and per a s even of a res- pectable octavo volume. Though this may have the appearance of vanity, it is not without an important influence on the community. The more a people know of each other,and especially the more that is known of the personal his- tories of individuals who stand out prom- inently from the ranks of their cotem- poraries,the better. We should be glad to see here an annual Sketch of Public Characters, similar to the En- glish periodical of that name. The Life of Daniel Webster has be- come somewhat familiar to the greater portion of readers in New-England. All have heard and are able to repeat something of the New-Hampshire Far- NOTICES. mers Boy ; but there are many por- tions of the country where his history and character are but little known, and where, we are sorry to add, we have some fears that both have suffered from the misrepresentations of political ad- versaries. To such places, if there be any, it would be well if the volume be- fore us could be introduced and liberally spread. Mr. Webster is destined to fill a much larger space in the mental vision of this great people, than he has yet oc- cupied; and every attempt to place his talents and services, his public charac- ter, and his private virtues, before them, should meet with approbation. Mr. Knapps style is fascinating, and he has arranged his materials with judgement and taste; and these circumstances give his book a claim to a place in any library. The fact above alluded tothat most of the prominent details of the life of Mr. Webster are well-known in New- Englandis one reason why we should not here present any epitome of Mr. Knapps memoir; but another, and, per- haps, a better one, is, that we have in- tended to enrich the pages of our Mag- azine with an original memoir; and this intention has been so long unfulfilled, solely because the gentleman who en- gaged to furnish the memoir has beets prevented from performing his promise by other indispensable engagements. With this preliminary we proceed to offer two extracts from Mr. Knapps Memoirthe first a brief notice of an oc- casion on which Mr. Webster produced one of the best and purest specimens of his eloquence. While Mr. Webster was engaged in theartlu- ous duties of the Convention, [that which was called to revise the Constitu,tion of .Ma.osaehusetts ia 1820:1 be was called, by a voice he could not resist, to again bring himself before the public. This call was from the Pilgrim Society, who were to assemble at Plymouth to commemosate the close of the second century, since the landing of tbeir forefathers, on the 22d of December, 1820; and to usher in the third century with feelings elevated, but chastened, and to pour out their hearts in grati- tude for the past, while their souls were lighted up with hopes for future generations. The So- ciety had existed for many years, and several judicious sermons and orations had been deliv- ered before that body of men, who wished to keep alive a just remembrance of their ances- bra; but never was the excitement amung the sons of the pilgrims so great as at this anniver- sary. Two hundred years had passed away since the event they celebrated, and time-hon- ored monuments were scattered through the country. The nation was at peace with all the world. The trees which the pilgrims once planted had grown great and prolific, and their

Samuel L. Knapp Knapp, Samuel L. A Memoir of the Life of Daniel Webster Literary Notices 171-173

171 LITERARY A Memoir of the Life of Daniel Webster, by Samuel L. Knapp. This work was announced more than six months ago as then in press, and the publication has been delayed by circum- stances which are differently represent- ed by the author and the gentleman to whom was attributed some agency in producing the delay. The disputed point we have nothing to do with. The book is now before the public. It ap- p ears to be such an one as almost any literary gentleman, with a file of Mr. Websters speeches before him, could prepare in ten days or ~ fortnight, rather a collection of memorandums than a memoir,written in the usual popular and figurative style of the au- thor, but abounding in evidences of haste and inattention, which, although excusable in a periodical, should not be allowed to escape in more elabo- rate works. Still it is a good book, for certain purposes, and may be exten- sively circulated. Too much can hardly be said, and written, and published, to sustain the characters of the great men of the nation, and to make the people, in all the various sections of our widely extended country familiar with their merits. The people of other nations of France and England, at leastare much better acquainted with their prom- inent statesmen, orators, poets, preach- ers, lawyers, military and naval com- manders, than our citizens are with the good or indifferent qualities of the same classes of persons among us. - In Eng- land, almost every one who writes a short poem or song, makes a tolerable speech in Parliament, or gains a diffi- cult cause in a court, becomes the sub- ject of an engraving and a memoir in a magazine, and per a s even of a res- pectable octavo volume. Though this may have the appearance of vanity, it is not without an important influence on the community. The more a people know of each other,and especially the more that is known of the personal his- tories of individuals who stand out prom- inently from the ranks of their cotem- poraries,the better. We should be glad to see here an annual Sketch of Public Characters, similar to the En- glish periodical of that name. The Life of Daniel Webster has be- come somewhat familiar to the greater portion of readers in New-England. All have heard and are able to repeat something of the New-Hampshire Far- NOTICES. mers Boy ; but there are many por- tions of the country where his history and character are but little known, and where, we are sorry to add, we have some fears that both have suffered from the misrepresentations of political ad- versaries. To such places, if there be any, it would be well if the volume be- fore us could be introduced and liberally spread. Mr. Webster is destined to fill a much larger space in the mental vision of this great people, than he has yet oc- cupied; and every attempt to place his talents and services, his public charac- ter, and his private virtues, before them, should meet with approbation. Mr. Knapps style is fascinating, and he has arranged his materials with judgement and taste; and these circumstances give his book a claim to a place in any library. The fact above alluded tothat most of the prominent details of the life of Mr. Webster are well-known in New- Englandis one reason why we should not here present any epitome of Mr. Knapps memoir; but another, and, per- haps, a better one, is, that we have in- tended to enrich the pages of our Mag- azine with an original memoir; and this intention has been so long unfulfilled, solely because the gentleman who en- gaged to furnish the memoir has beets prevented from performing his promise by other indispensable engagements. With this preliminary we proceed to offer two extracts from Mr. Knapps Memoirthe first a brief notice of an oc- casion on which Mr. Webster produced one of the best and purest specimens of his eloquence. While Mr. Webster was engaged in theartlu- ous duties of the Convention, [that which was called to revise the Constitu,tion of .Ma.osaehusetts ia 1820:1 be was called, by a voice he could not resist, to again bring himself before the public. This call was from the Pilgrim Society, who were to assemble at Plymouth to commemosate the close of the second century, since the landing of tbeir forefathers, on the 22d of December, 1820; and to usher in the third century with feelings elevated, but chastened, and to pour out their hearts in grati- tude for the past, while their souls were lighted up with hopes for future generations. The So- ciety had existed for many years, and several judicious sermons and orations had been deliv- ered before that body of men, who wished to keep alive a just remembrance of their ances- bra; but never was the excitement amung the sons of the pilgrims so great as at this anniver- sary. Two hundred years had passed away since the event they celebrated, and time-hon- ored monuments were scattered through the country. The nation was at peace with all the world. The trees which the pilgrims once planted had grown great and prolific, and their 172 children alone plucked the fruit. There was no spoiler in the land, and all traces of a hostile foot were obliterated from the soil of their birth- place. The scattered remnants of the red men were now regarded with compassion, not with fear; the aborigines had fallen like autumnal leaves, and no second spring had renewed them. The little cloud, which appeared two centuries ago not bigger than a mans hand on the horizon, had now spread over the whole hemisphere, to refresh the country. The suf- ferings of the pilgrims could not now he spared; no, not one of them, for they at this period shone as gems in a martyrs crown. No ordina- ry voice could have sung the requiem of two centuries; no common hand could have written their epitaphs; and no prophet of partial inspi- ration could have ventured upon the unborn ages, which crowded on their souls. The other extract is beautiful as a specimen of the authors style, and pre- sents a few particulars respecting a man who was less known than he should have been, and whose untimely death was a national loss. On his return from Washington in the spring of 1829, Mr. Webster had the misfortune to lose his brother, the Hon. Ezekiel Webster, a Coun- sellor at Law in the state of New-Hampshire. His death was sudden and remarkable; he fell and expired while in the midst of an argument at the bar, without a sigh or a struggle. No event could have been more unexpected by the public, for he was one of those models for a pic- ture of health and strength, that Salvator Rosa would have drawn in his mountain scenery, if he had wished to exhibit a commander able to bear the fatigues and duties of council and of war. He was lamented by his professional brethren, and sincerely mourned by the com- munity at large. Ezekiel Webster was two or three years older than his brother Daniel, but did not grad- uate until three years after him, in 1804. In college, he was the first in his class; his intel- lect was of a very high order; its capacity was general, for he was able to comprehend the ab- struse and difficult, and at the same time to en- joy the tasteful and the elegant. He was dis- tinguished for classical lilarature. His knowl- edge of Greek, particularly, was beyond that of his cotemporaries in college; and this is almost an unqualified proof of taste, when the study is pursued from a real fondness for the language and not merely for the pride of learning, or for the rewards of superiority. His knowledge of English literature was deep and extensive, for he had not skimmed over books as a matter of amusement, but he looked into them as a man of mind, who in- tends to draw lessons from all he reads. Few men among our scholars knew so much of the English poets as he did, and he valued them as he should have done, as philosophers and painters of human nature, from whom much knowledge may be obtained to illustrate and adorn what duller minds have put into maxims and rules. He made himself master of the law as a sci- ence, and became well acquainted with its practice in his native state. He went up to first principles with the ease and directness of a great mind, and separated at once that which was casual and local, from that which is per- manent and founded on the basis of moral jus- tice and the nature of man. There seemed no effort in any thing he did; all was natural and easy, as if intuitive. There was nothing about him of that little bustling smartness so often seen in ordinary persons, striving to perform Literary Notices. something to attract the attention of the little world around them. His general, information was not only exten- sive, but laid up in excellent order, ready for use. He was steadily engaged in the duties of his profession, but never seemed hurried or con- fused in his business. He took all calmly and quietly. He did nothing for parade or show, or mere effect, nor did he speak to the audience while addressing the court and jury. His life was passed in habits of industry and persever- ance; and his accumulations of wealth and knowledge were regular and rapid. From the commencement of his life as a reasoning being, responsible for his own actions, to the closeofit, he preserved the most perfect consistency of character; no paroxysms of passion, no eccen- tricities of genius were ever found in him. His equanimity was only equalled by his firmness of purpose. In this he was most conspicuous; he thought leisurely and cautiously, and having made up his mind, he was steadfast and im- moveable. Having no hasty or premature thoughts, he seldom had occasion to change his opinions, and was therefore, free from those mortifying repentances, so common to superior minds of warmer temperament. By honesty of purpose and soundness of judgement he kept a just balance in weighing all matters before hun. All this firmness and equanimity, and other virtues, seemed constitutional, and not made up by those exertions so necessary to most frail beings, who intend to support a char- acter for steady habits. He was blessed with a frame that felt few or no infirmities, such as weaken the nerves and bring down the mighty in intellect to those degrading superstitions that stain the brightness of genius and destroy the high hopes of immortal beings, and make them slaves to darkness and absurdity. He suffered no moral or mental weakness in his whole path of duty, for his constitution, until within a short time of his death, exhibited a sound mind in a sound body, and neither appeared essentially injured nor decayed, to the hour of his exit from this world. He never sought public honors, nor literary or political distinctions, and therefore had none of those throes and agonies so common to vaulting ambition; not that he declined all public trusts, when he was conscious that he could do any good to his fellow men. He was several years a member of one or other branch of the Legislature of New-Hampshire, and served as a trustee of Dartmouth College. He was at different times put up for a member of Congress, but it was at periods when his friends thought that his name would do some good to his political party, as the members of Congress in New-Hampshire are chosen by a general ticket; but when they were decidedly in power, he would seldom or never consent to be a candidate. This was much to be regretted, for he was admirably calculated for public life by his extensive knowledge and incorrup- tible integrity. He would have been a first- rate speaker on the floor of Congress. His elo- quence was impressive and commanding. There ivas in his delivery a slight defect in the labial soundsin the familiar use of his voice, which was rather pleasant to the listener than otherwise, for it was a proof of a natural man- ner; but warmed by his subject, a more rich, full, and sonorous voice was seldom heard in any public body; not that his tones were de- licate or mellifluous, but full of majesty and command, free from arrogance, timidity, or hesitation. His gestures were graceful, but not in the slightest degree studied; his lan- guage was rich, gentlemanly, select, but not painfully chosen; he not only had words for all occasions, but the very words he should have used. Literary Notices. As a writer he excelled in judgement and taste; there was a classical elegance in his familiar writings; and his higher compositions were marked with that lucid order and clear- ness of thought and purity of expression, which distinguished the Augustan age. His sentences were not grappled together by hooks of steel, but connected by golden hinges, that made a harmonious ~vhole. His library was rich in works of merit, ancient and modern. The history of literature and science was as familiarjto him as that of his native state, and he had the means of turning to it with much greater facility. He was an instance in point that a man may be a good lawyer, and yet devote some of his time to classical pursuits. Ezekiel Webster was one of those great men, rare instances in the world, who had thrown away ambition; and who preferred to be learned and happy in his course of life, rather than to court the gale and spread his sails, to be wafted along on popular opinion. He sought not popularity, but he had it; that popu- larity which follows, not that which is rita esfter. He watched the signs of the times, and was as good a diviner in politics as any one ; but whatever the presages were, he looked at coming events unmoved, leaving their results to Heaven. For several of the last years of his life, he was curtailing his business in order to devote some portion of the prime of his manhood to literary and scientific pursuits so congenial to his heart; but in this he was Aisappointed; for yet while in the fulness of his strength, he was called to leave the world, for whose henefit he was formed. The ways of Providence are right, however hidden the laws are from us. It is to be regretted that one so able should have written so little as he has ; probably he was waiting for those hours of leisure, in which he was contemplatingto form his plan of some literary work. The writer of these re- marks,his classmate and his friend,once suggested to him the history of his native state as a subject for his pen, and the thought did not seem unpleasant to him. In the boyish days of the writer, he undertook to translate Anacreon, and carried his productions daily for the corrections of his friend, whose mature mind gave the translation all the finish it possessed. No one he ever knew had a more admirable spirit of criticism than Ezekiel Webster, united with that generous indulgence which only great minds feel and practice. A few months before he died, some symptoms of a disease of the heart were perceptible, but not alarming to his friends ; but he knew the uncertainty of human life, and without any special command set his house in order, and made preparation for his long journey. There is a beauty in that calm, deep, silent, religious feeling, that none but great and pure minds can ever know. After having put all his worldly affairs into a most perfect train for settlement at his death, and wishing his friends to be free from all doubts upon his religious impressions and belief, he sat down and wrote his sentiments on this mo- mentous subject, which were found on his table after his death. This was his last com- position. How true it is, that the enjoyment of health, the accumulating of wealth, the por- suits of science and the love of letters, and the worlds applause, sanctioned by the good mans benison, are not sufficient for an immortal mind. All these things are, in a great meas- ure, connected with fellow mortals, and are finite in their influences upon the mind, while religion is a connexion with infinity,with Deity,it enters into eternity, leaves time and sense to earth, and by the bright inspirations of VOL. it. 23 173 faith takes the sting from death, and from the grave its victo y. A great mind accustomed to long converse with the invisible world, and seeing day after day, his friends falling around him, breathes, as each descends to the tomb, How dreary is this giilph! how darkhow void The trackless shores, that never were repassed! Dread separation! on the depth untried, Hope falters, and the soul recoils aghast Wide round the spacious heavens I cast my eyes; And shall these stars glow with immortal fire! Still shine the lifeless glories of the skies And could thy bright, thy living soul expire Far be the thought! The pleasures most sublime, The glow of friendship, and the virtuous tear, The searing wish that scorns the bounds of time, Chilled in the vale of death, but languish here. EncyclopuAia Americana: a Pop- ular Dictionary of Arts, Sciences, Literature, History, Politics, and Hiography, brought down to the present time. There is no country in which a good Encyclopuidia, adapted to popular use, should meet with more encouragement than in the United States ;which is truly a reading community. The pub- lication named at the head of this article is within the means of purchase of ma- ny, and, perhaps, of the great body of readers, or families. The English pub- lications of this character are altogether too expensive and too bulky for general use. They are more th~tn hall filled with matter which is of no interest to common readers. Generally speaking, the long and elaborate treatises on the sciences are of small use in Encyclo- patdias. The student and the pro~ssor drink at other fountains; in the com- pass. of such articles there cannot be detail enough for them, though there is quite too much for others. The science of law may, indeed, be an exception; and it is so treated in the present work, under its separate heads, that it cannot fail to enlighten a plain man, who knows little of technicalities on the subject that regulates his contracts and controls his property. The foundation of the Encyclopcwdia Americana is a German work, rather strangely called the Conversations Lex- icon. More than one hundred compe- tent writers, besides the editor, were employed in compiling it, and since 1812 more than 80,000 CO~lO5 have been sold, besides two pirated editions. Doctor Lieber, a gentleman of great industry and research, is translating this work, and adapting it to the use of the American public, in which he is much aided by Mr. E. Wigglesworth and Doc

Encyclopoedia Americana: a Popular Dictionary of Arts, Sciences, Literature, History, Politics, and Biography, brought down to the present time Literary Notices 173-174

Literary Notices. As a writer he excelled in judgement and taste; there was a classical elegance in his familiar writings; and his higher compositions were marked with that lucid order and clear- ness of thought and purity of expression, which distinguished the Augustan age. His sentences were not grappled together by hooks of steel, but connected by golden hinges, that made a harmonious ~vhole. His library was rich in works of merit, ancient and modern. The history of literature and science was as familiarjto him as that of his native state, and he had the means of turning to it with much greater facility. He was an instance in point that a man may be a good lawyer, and yet devote some of his time to classical pursuits. Ezekiel Webster was one of those great men, rare instances in the world, who had thrown away ambition; and who preferred to be learned and happy in his course of life, rather than to court the gale and spread his sails, to be wafted along on popular opinion. He sought not popularity, but he had it; that popu- larity which follows, not that which is rita esfter. He watched the signs of the times, and was as good a diviner in politics as any one ; but whatever the presages were, he looked at coming events unmoved, leaving their results to Heaven. For several of the last years of his life, he was curtailing his business in order to devote some portion of the prime of his manhood to literary and scientific pursuits so congenial to his heart; but in this he was Aisappointed; for yet while in the fulness of his strength, he was called to leave the world, for whose henefit he was formed. The ways of Providence are right, however hidden the laws are from us. It is to be regretted that one so able should have written so little as he has ; probably he was waiting for those hours of leisure, in which he was contemplatingto form his plan of some literary work. The writer of these re- marks,his classmate and his friend,once suggested to him the history of his native state as a subject for his pen, and the thought did not seem unpleasant to him. In the boyish days of the writer, he undertook to translate Anacreon, and carried his productions daily for the corrections of his friend, whose mature mind gave the translation all the finish it possessed. No one he ever knew had a more admirable spirit of criticism than Ezekiel Webster, united with that generous indulgence which only great minds feel and practice. A few months before he died, some symptoms of a disease of the heart were perceptible, but not alarming to his friends ; but he knew the uncertainty of human life, and without any special command set his house in order, and made preparation for his long journey. There is a beauty in that calm, deep, silent, religious feeling, that none but great and pure minds can ever know. After having put all his worldly affairs into a most perfect train for settlement at his death, and wishing his friends to be free from all doubts upon his religious impressions and belief, he sat down and wrote his sentiments on this mo- mentous subject, which were found on his table after his death. This was his last com- position. How true it is, that the enjoyment of health, the accumulating of wealth, the por- suits of science and the love of letters, and the worlds applause, sanctioned by the good mans benison, are not sufficient for an immortal mind. All these things are, in a great meas- ure, connected with fellow mortals, and are finite in their influences upon the mind, while religion is a connexion with infinity,with Deity,it enters into eternity, leaves time and sense to earth, and by the bright inspirations of VOL. it. 23 173 faith takes the sting from death, and from the grave its victo y. A great mind accustomed to long converse with the invisible world, and seeing day after day, his friends falling around him, breathes, as each descends to the tomb, How dreary is this giilph! how darkhow void The trackless shores, that never were repassed! Dread separation! on the depth untried, Hope falters, and the soul recoils aghast Wide round the spacious heavens I cast my eyes; And shall these stars glow with immortal fire! Still shine the lifeless glories of the skies And could thy bright, thy living soul expire Far be the thought! The pleasures most sublime, The glow of friendship, and the virtuous tear, The searing wish that scorns the bounds of time, Chilled in the vale of death, but languish here. EncyclopuAia Americana: a Pop- ular Dictionary of Arts, Sciences, Literature, History, Politics, and Hiography, brought down to the present time. There is no country in which a good Encyclopuidia, adapted to popular use, should meet with more encouragement than in the United States ;which is truly a reading community. The pub- lication named at the head of this article is within the means of purchase of ma- ny, and, perhaps, of the great body of readers, or families. The English pub- lications of this character are altogether too expensive and too bulky for general use. They are more th~tn hall filled with matter which is of no interest to common readers. Generally speaking, the long and elaborate treatises on the sciences are of small use in Encyclo- patdias. The student and the pro~ssor drink at other fountains; in the com- pass. of such articles there cannot be detail enough for them, though there is quite too much for others. The science of law may, indeed, be an exception; and it is so treated in the present work, under its separate heads, that it cannot fail to enlighten a plain man, who knows little of technicalities on the subject that regulates his contracts and controls his property. The foundation of the Encyclopcwdia Americana is a German work, rather strangely called the Conversations Lex- icon. More than one hundred compe- tent writers, besides the editor, were employed in compiling it, and since 1812 more than 80,000 CO~lO5 have been sold, besides two pirated editions. Doctor Lieber, a gentleman of great industry and research, is translating this work, and adapting it to the use of the American public, in which he is much aided by Mr. E. Wigglesworth and Doc 174 Literary Notices. tor T. G. Bradford. The work has, be- sides, the great advantage of American biography, furnished by Mr. Walsh. Much of the original German matter is excluded, and its place supplied by things of more general interest to read- ers in this country. In fact, the work is, in this respect, worthy of the title American. Many subjects that have interest in Europe would have none here; such is Heraldry, which, in the present work, is reduced to a bare out- line. The descendants of the barons, and even of the serfs, may be supposed to feel some interest in urmorial bear- ings, under which lord and tenant mus- tered to the field; but in this country the images of Brutus and Cassius would be more reverenced, than heraldric dis- tinctions conferred by Arthur himself. Our best emblems,ifany we covet, are a sheep dormant, or an ox couchant, on a field vert. The Encyclopmdia is very satisfactory on the subjects of American law, geog- raphy and biography; notices are given also of distinguished men in Europe, who are now playing their parts. We could, indeed, sometimes wish that the limits would allow more of our bio~- raphy, as there is no notice of our Heath, and Brooks,though there is one of Byles, who has come down in tradition as a wit. But there are faithful and spirit- ed sketches of Colden, Church, Bayard, Benezet, Bondinot, Bowdoin, Boylston, Burril, Dallas, Decatur, Dexter, Holley, Gore, Gerry, Emmett, Fulton, Brain- erd, Gates, & c. & c. & c. Under the head of Constitutions, is a most elaborate and clear account of all known constitutions, and those of this country are arranged in tables with great perspicuity. There is more labor and research in this one article, of a few pages, than always enters into the man- ufacture of a folio. In the last fifty years there have been about 114 written constitutions ;butthese are such casual things, that 31 of them have been abol- ished, and many of them at the point of the bayonet. France has had nine con- stitutions since the Revolution; and is somewhat in want of the tenth. Another article, worthy of being com- mended and studied, is a very interesting accountof the Indian Languages, chiefly from materials collected by Mr. Hecke- welder, and Mr. Duponceau. It seems, that there is not in this country the astonishing variety in forms of speech, that is common in Europe and Asia. There is a uniform system pervading all the languages. In regularity of form, and what is mcr~t surprising, in abun dance of words, the American languages are inferior to no others. There is in them a curious process of compounding words, and a multitude of ideas are thus combined. For instance, when a wo- man of the Delawares is playing with a little cat, she will say Kuligatsclcisor, give me your pretty little paw. This is compounded thus: K. is the insepa- rable pronoun of the second person,uli is part of the word ulit, and signifies pretty,gat is part of wichgat, and sig- nifies paw ,schis is a diminutive termi- nation, and conveys the idea of little- ness. In the same manner pil& pe, a youth, is formed from pilsit, innocent, and lendlpe, man. This process consists in putting together portions of different words so as to awaken at the same time, in the mind of the hearer, the various ideas which they separately express. This compounding of words was re- marked by Eliot, the apostle of the indians. It is certain, too, that the languages are rich in words, having several to express one thing, and many to express shades of difference. A dictionary of one of the Iroquois languages, (with the German,) consists of seven quarto man- uscript volumes. The English language, and several others, have but one word signifying to eat, but in some of the In- dian tongues, the thing eaten is express- ed in the verb ;jacurit is to eat bread, jemerl to eat fruit, janeri to eat flesh, & c. In the Cherokee language, thir- teen different verbs are used to express the action of washing. In the Delaware language, the Indians have various words to express what we mean by the word old, and which we apply to all things. The Indians vary their expression, when speaking of a thing that has life, and one that has not,for in the latter case they use a word signifying that the thing has long been used, worn out, & c. Religion the only Safeguard of National Prosperity: a Sermon preached in Trinity Church Boston, Dec. 1, 1831, heing the day of the Annuai Thanksgiving, hy the Rev. John H. Hopkins, Assistant Minister, and Professor of Systematic Divinity in the Massachusetts Theological School. Since the days of those reverend po- litical divines, Doctors Osgood and Par- ish, but few of the discourses, on our set days of Thanksgiving and Fast, have been circulated beyond the limits of the congregations to which they have been delivered. It is quite a rare occurrence that a Fast or Thanksgiving sermon now issues from the press. For several

Religion the only Safeguard of National Prosperity. John H. Hopkins Literary Notices 174-175

174 Literary Notices. tor T. G. Bradford. The work has, be- sides, the great advantage of American biography, furnished by Mr. Walsh. Much of the original German matter is excluded, and its place supplied by things of more general interest to read- ers in this country. In fact, the work is, in this respect, worthy of the title American. Many subjects that have interest in Europe would have none here; such is Heraldry, which, in the present work, is reduced to a bare out- line. The descendants of the barons, and even of the serfs, may be supposed to feel some interest in urmorial bear- ings, under which lord and tenant mus- tered to the field; but in this country the images of Brutus and Cassius would be more reverenced, than heraldric dis- tinctions conferred by Arthur himself. Our best emblems,ifany we covet, are a sheep dormant, or an ox couchant, on a field vert. The Encyclopmdia is very satisfactory on the subjects of American law, geog- raphy and biography; notices are given also of distinguished men in Europe, who are now playing their parts. We could, indeed, sometimes wish that the limits would allow more of our bio~- raphy, as there is no notice of our Heath, and Brooks,though there is one of Byles, who has come down in tradition as a wit. But there are faithful and spirit- ed sketches of Colden, Church, Bayard, Benezet, Bondinot, Bowdoin, Boylston, Burril, Dallas, Decatur, Dexter, Holley, Gore, Gerry, Emmett, Fulton, Brain- erd, Gates, & c. & c. & c. Under the head of Constitutions, is a most elaborate and clear account of all known constitutions, and those of this country are arranged in tables with great perspicuity. There is more labor and research in this one article, of a few pages, than always enters into the man- ufacture of a folio. In the last fifty years there have been about 114 written constitutions ;butthese are such casual things, that 31 of them have been abol- ished, and many of them at the point of the bayonet. France has had nine con- stitutions since the Revolution; and is somewhat in want of the tenth. Another article, worthy of being com- mended and studied, is a very interesting accountof the Indian Languages, chiefly from materials collected by Mr. Hecke- welder, and Mr. Duponceau. It seems, that there is not in this country the astonishing variety in forms of speech, that is common in Europe and Asia. There is a uniform system pervading all the languages. In regularity of form, and what is mcr~t surprising, in abun dance of words, the American languages are inferior to no others. There is in them a curious process of compounding words, and a multitude of ideas are thus combined. For instance, when a wo- man of the Delawares is playing with a little cat, she will say Kuligatsclcisor, give me your pretty little paw. This is compounded thus: K. is the insepa- rable pronoun of the second person,uli is part of the word ulit, and signifies pretty,gat is part of wichgat, and sig- nifies paw ,schis is a diminutive termi- nation, and conveys the idea of little- ness. In the same manner pil& pe, a youth, is formed from pilsit, innocent, and lendlpe, man. This process consists in putting together portions of different words so as to awaken at the same time, in the mind of the hearer, the various ideas which they separately express. This compounding of words was re- marked by Eliot, the apostle of the indians. It is certain, too, that the languages are rich in words, having several to express one thing, and many to express shades of difference. A dictionary of one of the Iroquois languages, (with the German,) consists of seven quarto man- uscript volumes. The English language, and several others, have but one word signifying to eat, but in some of the In- dian tongues, the thing eaten is express- ed in the verb ;jacurit is to eat bread, jemerl to eat fruit, janeri to eat flesh, & c. In the Cherokee language, thir- teen different verbs are used to express the action of washing. In the Delaware language, the Indians have various words to express what we mean by the word old, and which we apply to all things. The Indians vary their expression, when speaking of a thing that has life, and one that has not,for in the latter case they use a word signifying that the thing has long been used, worn out, & c. Religion the only Safeguard of National Prosperity: a Sermon preached in Trinity Church Boston, Dec. 1, 1831, heing the day of the Annuai Thanksgiving, hy the Rev. John H. Hopkins, Assistant Minister, and Professor of Systematic Divinity in the Massachusetts Theological School. Since the days of those reverend po- litical divines, Doctors Osgood and Par- ish, but few of the discourses, on our set days of Thanksgiving and Fast, have been circulated beyond the limits of the congregations to which they have been delivered. It is quite a rare occurrence that a Fast or Thanksgiving sermon now issues from the press. For several years, the temper of the people has been of so conciliatory a character, that few or no clergymen have found it ex- pedient to introduce politicsespecially those of a partisan characterinto the ordinary performances of the pulpit. We do not wish to be understood as giving to Mr. Hopkinss sermon an ex- clusively political character; it is far otherwise. But it contains sound polit- ical truths, which it is desirable that every man, whether politician or not, should understand, and maxims which it is the duty of every man to observe and practise. We offer no analysis of the discourse; it is simply a brief con- sideration of our causes of thankfulness as individuals, as a people, and as a fa- vored portion of the most distinguished nation upon earth, and the conclusion is, that there is an inseparable connex- ion of religious faith with the prosperity of nations. It is admitted, however, that such is not the prevailing theory of our daythe propriety of which admis- sion is thus illustrated How happens it, that after our politicians have repeated the string of second causes, until they have them all by heart, and have talked of the patriotism and virtue of their fathers, until the Anniversary of American Independence has exhausted every mode and shape of pane- gyrichow happens it, my brethren, that the rulers of the nation sometimes forget to imitate the virtue which they praise? The men of this generation are fully equal to their sires, in physical strength and mental cultivation. It is idle to pretend, that they are not as deep in po- litical science, and equally idle to deny that they are heartily and sincerely anxious for the real welfare of their country. Why, then, is it that the union which the fathers so happily es- tablished, the sons are laboring to destroy? Why is it, that the rewards of office are claimed as the wages of party strife, when integrity and merit should be the only qualifications? Why is it, that the theatre of national government has exhibited scenes of violence, angry passions, disgraceful personalities, and privileged slan- der, in the discussion of comparative trifles, when all the ,nighty and perplexing difficulties of the revolution were disposed of in dignity and peace? Why is it, that in the short period of forty years, political purity seems to have given place to corruption, the true spirit of pa- triotism, to the demon of ambition, the elo- quence of enlightened reason and lofty senti- ment, to the virulence of rancor and the de- clamation of the demagogue, and the fair con- test of sober argument, to the assault of the pistol * * * * * * * * The spirit of strong and elevated devotion which marked the first settlers of our land has left but few traces on the principles and habits of our generation. The press has established a theory which displays hut few points of coin- cidence with the Gospel. Politicians have dis- covered that the private character of an aspi- rant to office, has nothing to do with his public claims; he may be untrue to his personal du- ties, and yet punctual in the discharge of his official obligations; he may be honest to his country, and yet false to his God. It was the maxun of the great Redeemer, that he who is faithless in that which was least, is faithless 175 also in muchlsut the logic of our day under- takes to show, that a candidate may be faithless in that which is greatest,his allegiance to his Maker,and yet be perfectly worthy of confi- dence in any post to which it may please the people to call him. Words of Truth. By the author of The Well Spent Hour and The Warning. This is professedly a work for chil- dren, but it is one which a grown person may read with advantage. That it is written by the author of The Well Spent Hour, a little work whose great excel- lence has been attested by its great popularity, would alone be a sufficient pledge of its merit. It is a collection of stories, dialogues, essays, & c. most of which have appeared in various period- icals before, and are now published to- gether for the first time.. Tlle style is lively, agreeable, and possessed of a certain peculiar fascination, arising from the authors earnestness and wish to be of service to her readers. We are pleased with the work especially on one account,that it is not, as is the case with most childrens books, made up entirely of stories, and that the narra- tives that are introduced are used for the purpose of illustrating and enforcing some important truth. We are not of opinion tlaat children need to have their imaginations always excited by romantic stories, or that if they be so, it will not prove an mujury. We believe that nine children out of ten will read such articles as the Rainy Afternoon, the Wild Pigeon of America, the Won- ders of a Leaf; with as much pleasure, to say nothing of the improvement, as any tale about fairies and giants. But the great charm of this little work, is, the manner in which lessons of moral and religious duty are conveyed. The great truths of religion are shown in their original beauty, divested of both that gloom and mystery with which they are so often alloyed, and the effect of which is so indescribably pernicious upon a young mind. The Dialogue on Faith, and the Childs Trust in Danger,~ occur to us as admirable illustrations of our remarks. The latter article, in particular, though rather above the comprehension of a very young child, is one that the oldest Christian may read with advantage; and the anecdote related in it is one of the most beautiful and affecting proofs of mans natural sense of religion and dependence on a higher power, that we have ever seen. We cordially recom- mend this book to all parents as one which cannot fail to have the best infin- ence upon the character of their clsil Literary Notices.

Words of Truth. By the author of "The Well Spent Hour" and "The Warning" Literary Notices 175-176

years, the temper of the people has been of so conciliatory a character, that few or no clergymen have found it ex- pedient to introduce politicsespecially those of a partisan characterinto the ordinary performances of the pulpit. We do not wish to be understood as giving to Mr. Hopkinss sermon an ex- clusively political character; it is far otherwise. But it contains sound polit- ical truths, which it is desirable that every man, whether politician or not, should understand, and maxims which it is the duty of every man to observe and practise. We offer no analysis of the discourse; it is simply a brief con- sideration of our causes of thankfulness as individuals, as a people, and as a fa- vored portion of the most distinguished nation upon earth, and the conclusion is, that there is an inseparable connex- ion of religious faith with the prosperity of nations. It is admitted, however, that such is not the prevailing theory of our daythe propriety of which admis- sion is thus illustrated How happens it, that after our politicians have repeated the string of second causes, until they have them all by heart, and have talked of the patriotism and virtue of their fathers, until the Anniversary of American Independence has exhausted every mode and shape of pane- gyrichow happens it, my brethren, that the rulers of the nation sometimes forget to imitate the virtue which they praise? The men of this generation are fully equal to their sires, in physical strength and mental cultivation. It is idle to pretend, that they are not as deep in po- litical science, and equally idle to deny that they are heartily and sincerely anxious for the real welfare of their country. Why, then, is it that the union which the fathers so happily es- tablished, the sons are laboring to destroy? Why is it, that the rewards of office are claimed as the wages of party strife, when integrity and merit should be the only qualifications? Why is it, that the theatre of national government has exhibited scenes of violence, angry passions, disgraceful personalities, and privileged slan- der, in the discussion of comparative trifles, when all the ,nighty and perplexing difficulties of the revolution were disposed of in dignity and peace? Why is it, that in the short period of forty years, political purity seems to have given place to corruption, the true spirit of pa- triotism, to the demon of ambition, the elo- quence of enlightened reason and lofty senti- ment, to the virulence of rancor and the de- clamation of the demagogue, and the fair con- test of sober argument, to the assault of the pistol * * * * * * * * The spirit of strong and elevated devotion which marked the first settlers of our land has left but few traces on the principles and habits of our generation. The press has established a theory which displays hut few points of coin- cidence with the Gospel. Politicians have dis- covered that the private character of an aspi- rant to office, has nothing to do with his public claims; he may be untrue to his personal du- ties, and yet punctual in the discharge of his official obligations; he may be honest to his country, and yet false to his God. It was the maxun of the great Redeemer, that he who is faithless in that which was least, is faithless 175 also in muchlsut the logic of our day under- takes to show, that a candidate may be faithless in that which is greatest,his allegiance to his Maker,and yet be perfectly worthy of confi- dence in any post to which it may please the people to call him. Words of Truth. By the author of The Well Spent Hour and The Warning. This is professedly a work for chil- dren, but it is one which a grown person may read with advantage. That it is written by the author of The Well Spent Hour, a little work whose great excel- lence has been attested by its great popularity, would alone be a sufficient pledge of its merit. It is a collection of stories, dialogues, essays, & c. most of which have appeared in various period- icals before, and are now published to- gether for the first time.. Tlle style is lively, agreeable, and possessed of a certain peculiar fascination, arising from the authors earnestness and wish to be of service to her readers. We are pleased with the work especially on one account,that it is not, as is the case with most childrens books, made up entirely of stories, and that the narra- tives that are introduced are used for the purpose of illustrating and enforcing some important truth. We are not of opinion tlaat children need to have their imaginations always excited by romantic stories, or that if they be so, it will not prove an mujury. We believe that nine children out of ten will read such articles as the Rainy Afternoon, the Wild Pigeon of America, the Won- ders of a Leaf; with as much pleasure, to say nothing of the improvement, as any tale about fairies and giants. But the great charm of this little work, is, the manner in which lessons of moral and religious duty are conveyed. The great truths of religion are shown in their original beauty, divested of both that gloom and mystery with which they are so often alloyed, and the effect of which is so indescribably pernicious upon a young mind. The Dialogue on Faith, and the Childs Trust in Danger,~ occur to us as admirable illustrations of our remarks. The latter article, in particular, though rather above the comprehension of a very young child, is one that the oldest Christian may read with advantage; and the anecdote related in it is one of the most beautiful and affecting proofs of mans natural sense of religion and dependence on a higher power, that we have ever seen. We cordially recom- mend this book to all parents as one which cannot fail to have the best infin- ence upon the character of their clsil Literary Notices. Literary Notices. dren, and as being entirely free from the objections to which many childrens books, as they are called, are liable. The New-England Magazine English Grainniar. Why should not a Magazine contain a review of itself? It has become quite the fashion for periodicals of a certain description to sound their own praises in notes borrowed from those super- critical and proverbially omnipotent arbi- ters of public taste, the editors of news- papers; and surely we may be permit- ed to tell the world how many and what sort of faults are found in our pages, by one who does not belong to that class. We have seen how some of our cotemporaries can fill octavo, quarto, and even folio pages, with gen- uine recommendations, cut from all the known newspapers of the Union, and from many that would, otherwise, have forever remained unknown, but which, fortunately, have thus been brought into public notice, and, consequently into public favoras the inventors of panaceas, by their advertisements, ac- complish the double purpose of giving celebrity to themselves and their pa- trons, who share, mutually, the advan- tage of stealing and giving odor. The annexed communication was re- ceived too late to be placed among the original papers of this number. We at first contemplated a defence of what the writer calls, somewhat sneeringly, our English Grammar ; but as the high- est clerical, legislative, and executive authorities appear to be in our favor, we have thought it better to say nothing; and, as he has kindly applied to the product of our labors a positive epithet, which hardly admits of a superlative, we ought, perhaps, to be content, and take the admonition with humility, tem- pered as it is with the flattering unction of the critics praise. 7s the Editors of theJVew-Esglond Magazine We see in the newspapers a great many ad- vertisements of persons who have established schools or academies, and who profess to teach all branches of literature and science. Among other things, they inform the public that they teach Engi is Uraininar. By what means they teach, they do not infosmo uswhether by books and roles, or by machines and pictures. But that they do teach something called grammar, is manifest; for we see the evidence of it in every book we read. Among the proofs that grammar has been long taught in our country, permit me, gentlemen, to cite your excellent Magazine. I say exeellent, and I am not in jest, for I value it very much, and in my estimate of its merits, I am not alone. In No. 7, Vol. 2, page 2, I find such language as tIme following. Though Time treat us with careless scorn Though Fancy be just now unpropitmous. In page 4, I find, If any cdi- toe hathsquibbed our Magazine, behold, we have forgiven himifhesees fit, let him squib it again If any wicked, inconsiderate person hath neglected to put his name to our subscription It; on the other hand, there be any author who smarts beneath the paternal discipline of our criticism If any candidate for famebears us ill will. Excuse me, gentlemen; there is a great deal of such grammar in your Magazine. But you are well supported by authorities. Let us look at some of them. If moral disposition lie hereif preference involves the knowledge of obligationif he re-. fates any thingif his objection and replies are shown to be feebleif the proposition is true let him ridicule, if he pleaseif he pretend the formerif it proves any thing, & c. These specimens are from sermons of a professor of one of our colleges, in which there are sixty similar inconsistencies, or the use of different forms of tense to express the same time, in the compass of ninety pages; three of them in one sentence. You have also authorities in the highest de- partments of our government. The following are from the late report of the Secretary of War no ordinary scholar. If this be not doneif its organization is rendered commensurateif to this be added the necessary progressif the laws upon this sub- ject are inadequateif this great defensive force be called out under proper circumstancesif they are induced to prefer the formerit may he doubted mehether that instrument contain any grant of authority to the general government if the claim rest upon natural rightwhether this view is not fortified by the practice of all other civilized nationsif the Indian tribes are inde- pendent of the State authoritiesif the claim rest upon alleged conventional engagementsit may then be doubted whether in all our treaties with the tndian tribes, there is any stipulation, & c. Is not this, gentlemen, what is called gram- soar, and taught in our schools? And what is the quarterly price which parents pay for in- struction in such grammar? AproposThere is one sentence in the Presi- dents late message, which I would amend; at least, I would suggest whether it will not bear an amendment. It is this: The disturbances that took place in the empire of Brazil, previ- ously to, and immediately consequent sepsis, the ab- dication of the late emperor Would it not be betterthusThe disturbances that took place in the empire of Brazil, previously to, and ins- mediately coasegnently uposs, the abdication of the late emperor? Omit immediately, and see how the passage ~vill stand, either way, in point of grammar. Annmsoze. New-Haven, Jan,mary, 1832. 176

The New-England Magazine - English Grammar Literary Notices 176-177

Literary Notices. dren, and as being entirely free from the objections to which many childrens books, as they are called, are liable. The New-England Magazine English Grainniar. Why should not a Magazine contain a review of itself? It has become quite the fashion for periodicals of a certain description to sound their own praises in notes borrowed from those super- critical and proverbially omnipotent arbi- ters of public taste, the editors of news- papers; and surely we may be permit- ed to tell the world how many and what sort of faults are found in our pages, by one who does not belong to that class. We have seen how some of our cotemporaries can fill octavo, quarto, and even folio pages, with gen- uine recommendations, cut from all the known newspapers of the Union, and from many that would, otherwise, have forever remained unknown, but which, fortunately, have thus been brought into public notice, and, consequently into public favoras the inventors of panaceas, by their advertisements, ac- complish the double purpose of giving celebrity to themselves and their pa- trons, who share, mutually, the advan- tage of stealing and giving odor. The annexed communication was re- ceived too late to be placed among the original papers of this number. We at first contemplated a defence of what the writer calls, somewhat sneeringly, our English Grammar ; but as the high- est clerical, legislative, and executive authorities appear to be in our favor, we have thought it better to say nothing; and, as he has kindly applied to the product of our labors a positive epithet, which hardly admits of a superlative, we ought, perhaps, to be content, and take the admonition with humility, tem- pered as it is with the flattering unction of the critics praise. 7s the Editors of theJVew-Esglond Magazine We see in the newspapers a great many ad- vertisements of persons who have established schools or academies, and who profess to teach all branches of literature and science. Among other things, they inform the public that they teach Engi is Uraininar. By what means they teach, they do not infosmo uswhether by books and roles, or by machines and pictures. But that they do teach something called grammar, is manifest; for we see the evidence of it in every book we read. Among the proofs that grammar has been long taught in our country, permit me, gentlemen, to cite your excellent Magazine. I say exeellent, and I am not in jest, for I value it very much, and in my estimate of its merits, I am not alone. In No. 7, Vol. 2, page 2, I find such language as tIme following. Though Time treat us with careless scorn Though Fancy be just now unpropitmous. In page 4, I find, If any cdi- toe hathsquibbed our Magazine, behold, we have forgiven himifhesees fit, let him squib it again If any wicked, inconsiderate person hath neglected to put his name to our subscription It; on the other hand, there be any author who smarts beneath the paternal discipline of our criticism If any candidate for famebears us ill will. Excuse me, gentlemen; there is a great deal of such grammar in your Magazine. But you are well supported by authorities. Let us look at some of them. If moral disposition lie hereif preference involves the knowledge of obligationif he re-. fates any thingif his objection and replies are shown to be feebleif the proposition is true let him ridicule, if he pleaseif he pretend the formerif it proves any thing, & c. These specimens are from sermons of a professor of one of our colleges, in which there are sixty similar inconsistencies, or the use of different forms of tense to express the same time, in the compass of ninety pages; three of them in one sentence. You have also authorities in the highest de- partments of our government. The following are from the late report of the Secretary of War no ordinary scholar. If this be not doneif its organization is rendered commensurateif to this be added the necessary progressif the laws upon this sub- ject are inadequateif this great defensive force be called out under proper circumstancesif they are induced to prefer the formerit may he doubted mehether that instrument contain any grant of authority to the general government if the claim rest upon natural rightwhether this view is not fortified by the practice of all other civilized nationsif the Indian tribes are inde- pendent of the State authoritiesif the claim rest upon alleged conventional engagementsit may then be doubted whether in all our treaties with the tndian tribes, there is any stipulation, & c. Is not this, gentlemen, what is called gram- soar, and taught in our schools? And what is the quarterly price which parents pay for in- struction in such grammar? AproposThere is one sentence in the Presi- dents late message, which I would amend; at least, I would suggest whether it will not bear an amendment. It is this: The disturbances that took place in the empire of Brazil, previ- ously to, and immediately consequent sepsis, the ab- dication of the late emperor Would it not be betterthusThe disturbances that took place in the empire of Brazil, previously to, and ins- mediately coasegnently uposs, the abdication of the late emperor? Omit immediately, and see how the passage ~vill stand, either way, in point of grammar. Annmsoze. New-Haven, Jan,mary, 1832. 176 177 DEATHS, AND OBITUARY NOTICES OF PERSONS LATELY DECEASED. In Scarborough, Me. Major WILLIAM HASTY, aged 78. He was a Lieutenant in the Revolu- tionary Service, was present at the taking of Burgoyne, and in a number of other engage- ments. In South-Berwick, Me. EowAan P. HAY- MAN, Esq. a native of Boston, and for some- time Clerk of the Senate of Massachusetts. In Westborough, THOMAS TWICHELL, a Re- volutionary Soldier, aged 74; and the day fol- lowing, PHOEBE, his wife, aged 66. In Portland, Rev. CHARLES JENKINS, Pastor of the Third Congregational Society, in that town, aged 43. In Francistown, N. H. ROBEaT DsNsssooa, Esq. aged 80a revolutionary pensioner. In Walpole, N. H. SYLVANUS JoHNsON, aged 84. He was captured with his parents in 1754, by the St. Francis Indians, and carried to Canada, where he was detained ft,ur years. He was the eldest son of Mr. James Johnson, of Charlestown, N. H. and Mrs. Johnson, wl~ose narrative of her captivity has been somewhat celebrated. In Concord, Ms. Mr. BENJAMIN HOsMEB, aged 80. He was in the battle of White Plains, and was Lieutenant of a company raised to guard Burgoynes troops, in the spring of 1778, at Cambridge. In Brookline, Ms. General S. ELLIOT, aged 70. He sustained an illness of many years, and knew himself hourly to be in danger of instant death, with a calmness and patience ~vhich was most soothing to those who watch- ed over him; the strongest feature perhaps of his character, his earnest desire to give pleas- ure to others, was as conspicuous in the retire- ment of his chamber and the suffering of sick- ness, as in the days when health and office gave him a wider sphere. In Marblehead, Capt. SAMUEL R. TREVETY, aged 81. He was born in that town in 1751. He commanded a company of artillery at the battle of Bunker Hill, and again in the Rhode- Island expedition, in August 1775. He was the last ~surviver of the six individulls who con- ceived and executed successfully, the daring enterprise of carrying off a chest of arms, which was on board a prize, lying directly under the stern of the Lively frigate, in the harbor of Marblehead. Capt. Treveti had two sons in the United States Navy, during the whole of the late ~var, both of whom are dead. One held a commission as Surgeon, with Coin. Decatur,the other was Sailing Master. In 1812, Capt. T. was captured by a British vessel, as he was returning from Sweden, where he had resided four years, engaged in commercial transactions. In July, 1814, he received the command of the U. S. Revenue Cutter on tIle Boston station, from Mr. Madison, a situation he retained till his death. In his manners, Capt. Trevett was a finished gentleman of the old school ;his extensive and varied information, and the urbanity and politeness of his manner, rendered him a most agreeable as well as an exceedingly instructive companion; while the rectitude of his life, and the uniform excel- lence of character which he possessed, render- ed him a fit example for all. He retained the faculties of his mind to the last moment, and on the very day of his decease, gave the usual household directions. In conformity with his express injunctions, he was buried at sunset; without any funeral procession, and with no other ceremony than thirteen tolls of a single bell, probably ill allusion to the thirteen states, for whose independence he sacrificed his prop- erty and devoted his youth. In Lynn, Ms. Dr. JAMES GASoreER, aged 69. He was a graduate of Harvard University. When very young, Dr. Gardner served in the army of the American revolution. After the return of peace, he devoted himself to the study and practice of the medical profession, in which he became eminent and acquired an extensive practice. He sustained from time to time various municipal offices. As acitizen,he was always steadily and firmly attached to the welfare and best interests of his countyy. He courted no popularity that was inconsistent with justice, and like Aristides, was only un- popular for being just. As a member of Mount Carniel Lodge, he was firmly and fearlessly at- tached to the Institution of Freemasonry dur- ing the late persecutions of that order. In Danvers, Ms. EBENEZEIr RicesAzosore, aged 80a soldier in the battle on Bunker Hill. In Stockbridge, Ms. HENRY Iii. SEouwIcK, Esq. Counsellor at Law, aged 47 He was well known in the Courts both in Massachu- setts and New-York, having been engaged in an extensive and successful practice, until his health and the powers of his active and vigo- rous mind, became so impaired as to induce to retire from business. He was of warm and enlarged philanthropy, and, when engaged in any great and worthy undertak- ing, he concentratred upon it all the powers of his acute mind, and pursued it with an ar- dor which nothing could chill, and a persever- ance which nothing could turn aside. This in- tense and perpetual activity of his intellectual faculties probably occasioned the malady un- der which his constitution finally sunk. He has left to his friends, the grateful memory of a life, every moment of which was well and worthily employed. In Providence, R. I. Dr. WILLIAM BOWEN, aged 85. Dr. Bowen was born in Providence, March 8, 1747 (0. 8.) He was the third son of Dr. Ephraim Bowen, who, for a long tune, practised physic in that town, where he died on the 21st October, 1812,at the~sge of ninety- six years. Dr. William Bowen was the fifth generation in descent from Dr. Richard Bowen, who emigrated from England, A. B. 1642, and settled in Dorchester, (Mass.) Dr. Bowens father, grandfather, great grandfather, as well as the first settler, Richard, were physicians. His son, William C. Bowen, (who died in 1815) was also a physician, making the sixth generation devoted to the medical profession. These are curious facts, which, it is believed, have few parallels. The first two years of his collegiate life he passed at Harvard University, and the remaining two at Yale College, where he was graduated in the year 1766. In 1770, he received the degree of Master of Arts, from Rhode Islasid College, then recently establish- ed at Providence. Immediately after leaving College, Dr. B. commenced the study of medi- cine, under the direction of his father. He suhsequently repaired to Philadelphia, the on- ly medical school then existing in the country. In May, 1769, he returned to his native towis, having received diplomas from the different Professors, certifying the proficiency he had made in the healing art. He immediately ron~inenced the practice of his profession ~vhich he continued uninterruptedly, till wills- in a few usouths of his deathembracing a iseriod of more Ilsasi sIXTY YEARS. He was

Deaths Deaths 177-180

177 DEATHS, AND OBITUARY NOTICES OF PERSONS LATELY DECEASED. In Scarborough, Me. Major WILLIAM HASTY, aged 78. He was a Lieutenant in the Revolu- tionary Service, was present at the taking of Burgoyne, and in a number of other engage- ments. In South-Berwick, Me. EowAan P. HAY- MAN, Esq. a native of Boston, and for some- time Clerk of the Senate of Massachusetts. In Westborough, THOMAS TWICHELL, a Re- volutionary Soldier, aged 74; and the day fol- lowing, PHOEBE, his wife, aged 66. In Portland, Rev. CHARLES JENKINS, Pastor of the Third Congregational Society, in that town, aged 43. In Francistown, N. H. ROBEaT DsNsssooa, Esq. aged 80a revolutionary pensioner. In Walpole, N. H. SYLVANUS JoHNsON, aged 84. He was captured with his parents in 1754, by the St. Francis Indians, and carried to Canada, where he was detained ft,ur years. He was the eldest son of Mr. James Johnson, of Charlestown, N. H. and Mrs. Johnson, wl~ose narrative of her captivity has been somewhat celebrated. In Concord, Ms. Mr. BENJAMIN HOsMEB, aged 80. He was in the battle of White Plains, and was Lieutenant of a company raised to guard Burgoynes troops, in the spring of 1778, at Cambridge. In Brookline, Ms. General S. ELLIOT, aged 70. He sustained an illness of many years, and knew himself hourly to be in danger of instant death, with a calmness and patience ~vhich was most soothing to those who watch- ed over him; the strongest feature perhaps of his character, his earnest desire to give pleas- ure to others, was as conspicuous in the retire- ment of his chamber and the suffering of sick- ness, as in the days when health and office gave him a wider sphere. In Marblehead, Capt. SAMUEL R. TREVETY, aged 81. He was born in that town in 1751. He commanded a company of artillery at the battle of Bunker Hill, and again in the Rhode- Island expedition, in August 1775. He was the last ~surviver of the six individulls who con- ceived and executed successfully, the daring enterprise of carrying off a chest of arms, which was on board a prize, lying directly under the stern of the Lively frigate, in the harbor of Marblehead. Capt. Treveti had two sons in the United States Navy, during the whole of the late ~var, both of whom are dead. One held a commission as Surgeon, with Coin. Decatur,the other was Sailing Master. In 1812, Capt. T. was captured by a British vessel, as he was returning from Sweden, where he had resided four years, engaged in commercial transactions. In July, 1814, he received the command of the U. S. Revenue Cutter on tIle Boston station, from Mr. Madison, a situation he retained till his death. In his manners, Capt. Trevett was a finished gentleman of the old school ;his extensive and varied information, and the urbanity and politeness of his manner, rendered him a most agreeable as well as an exceedingly instructive companion; while the rectitude of his life, and the uniform excel- lence of character which he possessed, render- ed him a fit example for all. He retained the faculties of his mind to the last moment, and on the very day of his decease, gave the usual household directions. In conformity with his express injunctions, he was buried at sunset; without any funeral procession, and with no other ceremony than thirteen tolls of a single bell, probably ill allusion to the thirteen states, for whose independence he sacrificed his prop- erty and devoted his youth. In Lynn, Ms. Dr. JAMES GASoreER, aged 69. He was a graduate of Harvard University. When very young, Dr. Gardner served in the army of the American revolution. After the return of peace, he devoted himself to the study and practice of the medical profession, in which he became eminent and acquired an extensive practice. He sustained from time to time various municipal offices. As acitizen,he was always steadily and firmly attached to the welfare and best interests of his countyy. He courted no popularity that was inconsistent with justice, and like Aristides, was only un- popular for being just. As a member of Mount Carniel Lodge, he was firmly and fearlessly at- tached to the Institution of Freemasonry dur- ing the late persecutions of that order. In Danvers, Ms. EBENEZEIr RicesAzosore, aged 80a soldier in the battle on Bunker Hill. In Stockbridge, Ms. HENRY Iii. SEouwIcK, Esq. Counsellor at Law, aged 47 He was well known in the Courts both in Massachu- setts and New-York, having been engaged in an extensive and successful practice, until his health and the powers of his active and vigo- rous mind, became so impaired as to induce to retire from business. He was of warm and enlarged philanthropy, and, when engaged in any great and worthy undertak- ing, he concentratred upon it all the powers of his acute mind, and pursued it with an ar- dor which nothing could chill, and a persever- ance which nothing could turn aside. This in- tense and perpetual activity of his intellectual faculties probably occasioned the malady un- der which his constitution finally sunk. He has left to his friends, the grateful memory of a life, every moment of which was well and worthily employed. In Providence, R. I. Dr. WILLIAM BOWEN, aged 85. Dr. Bowen was born in Providence, March 8, 1747 (0. 8.) He was the third son of Dr. Ephraim Bowen, who, for a long tune, practised physic in that town, where he died on the 21st October, 1812,at the~sge of ninety- six years. Dr. William Bowen was the fifth generation in descent from Dr. Richard Bowen, who emigrated from England, A. B. 1642, and settled in Dorchester, (Mass.) Dr. Bowens father, grandfather, great grandfather, as well as the first settler, Richard, were physicians. His son, William C. Bowen, (who died in 1815) was also a physician, making the sixth generation devoted to the medical profession. These are curious facts, which, it is believed, have few parallels. The first two years of his collegiate life he passed at Harvard University, and the remaining two at Yale College, where he was graduated in the year 1766. In 1770, he received the degree of Master of Arts, from Rhode Islasid College, then recently establish- ed at Providence. Immediately after leaving College, Dr. B. commenced the study of medi- cine, under the direction of his father. He suhsequently repaired to Philadelphia, the on- ly medical school then existing in the country. In May, 1769, he returned to his native towis, having received diplomas from the different Professors, certifying the proficiency he had made in the healing art. He immediately ron~inenced the practice of his profession ~vhich he continued uninterruptedly, till wills- in a few usouths of his deathembracing a iseriod of more Ilsasi sIXTY YEARS. He was Obituary Notices. married in 1770, and resided from that time until his death in the same house. In Wallingford, Ct. Mr. CALEB ATWATER, aged 92. In New-York, Col. ROBERT Tanup, aged 75. At the commencement of the American Revo- lution, Col. Troup was engaged in the study of the law in the office of John Jay, afterwards Chief Justice of the United States and Governor of New-York, he quitted his studies, and, with the rank of Lieutenant, joined the Continental Army, then stationed upon Long Island under the command of General Sullivan, early in the year 1776; he was shortly afterwards appoint- ed Aid-de-Camp to Brigadier Gen. Woodhull, and was with the latter at the encampment near Brooklyn, when the Americans were at- tacked and defeated on the 27th August hy the British forces under the command of Generals Sir Henry Clinton, Percy and Corowallis. In that action, several Generals and Col. Troup were made prisoners; Col. Troup was confined some time in the Jersey Prison Ship at the Wallabout, and suhsequently transferred to the Provost Prison in New-York city, where he re- mained until the spring of 1777, when he was exchanged and joined the army in New-Jersey. General Gates having heen, in the same spring, appointed by Congress to the command of the northern army, appointed Col. Troup one of isis Aids-de-Camp, and he joined that army in that capacity at Saratoga in August ofthe same year; he was present at the action at Stillwater, and at the surrender of the British army com- manded by Gen. Borgoyne, on the 17th of Octoher. In February, 1778, Col. Troop was appointed by Congress, Secretary of the Board of War, appointed to sit at the seat of govern- ment, of which Gen. Gates was President, and continued to act as such secretary until the board was dissolved in the following year, after which Col. Troup went to New-Jersey and completed his law studies with the late Judge Patterson, of the Supreme Court. Some years after the peace, Col. Troop was appointed Judge of the District Court of the United States for the District of New-York, held that office for several years, and then retired to private life. In Windham, Greene county, N. Y. Mr. JOEL TUTTLE, aged 76, a soldier at Quebec, under Montgomery. In Beckinantown, Cli!xton County, N. Y. Mr. THOMAS TREDWELL, aged 88. He was the last surviver of the Convention which framed the Constitution of the State of New-York, in 1777. In Philadelphia, Penn. Mr. WILLIAM HALL, aged SO. His father was a partner of Dr. Franklin. He was a highly respectable gen- tleman, and received many proofs of the con- dence of his fellow citizens. In Philadelphia, Penn. Mr. STEPHEN GIRARD. He was horn at Bordeaux, in 1746, which place he left at ahout twelve years of age, in the capacity of cabin boy, in a vessel bound to the West-Indies. He arrived in New-York about the year 1775 and settled in Philadelphia in 1779. He was then a very poor man, dealing in old iron and rigging, in the city, and trading on the Delaware as a pedlar, supplying the in- habitants with groceries, ready made clothing, & c. The foundation of his fortune, is to be found in his great industry and frugality, but the particular transaction by ~vhich he first realized great wealth and was enabled to engage in mercantile operations, cannot now be known. He became distinguish- ed for his active philanthropic exertions during the ravages of the yellow fever, which nearly depopulated the city, in 1793. In 1812, he established his private bank, into which he put about two millions of dollars. Since that time his wealth has increased with unheard- of expedition. During the last war he took the government loan of five millions, at a period of general despondency, and when the credit of the government was almost, entirely exhausted. At the time of his death his property was estimated to be worth from twelve to fifteen millions of dollars, and he was the most wealthy man in the new world. He was buried with public honors. By his will he distributed his immense wealth in the most liberal manner. He left to the Corporation of Pennsylvania Hospital, $30,000. To the Penn- sylvania Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, $20,000. To the Orphan Asylum of Philadel- phia, $10,000. To the city of Philadelphia, to be invested, and the proceeds to be expended duringthe summer in the purchase of fuel which is to be distributed among poor house-keepers during the month of January forever, $10,000. To the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania, $20,000. To the Township Passyunk, for the establish- ment of a School for poor white children, $6,000. To certain relatives who are named, his real estate in the city of Bordeaux, and $140,000 in money. To each Sea-Captain in his employ, $1500. To every person bound to him as an apprentice or servant, $500, at the end of his service. In bequests and annuities, $49,000. A portion of real estate consisting of two hun- dred and eight thousand arpens of land, situated near Washita, Louisiana, after twenty years, if the present occupant, Judge Henry Bree, shall live so long, otherwise immediately after his death,to the city of New-Orleans. To the city of New-Orleans one third of the residue of the same estate, and to the city of Philadelphia the other two-thirds. And all the residue and remainder of his real and personal estate is given to the city of Philadelphia, in trust for certain purposes specified. Among these is the sum of $2,000,000, for the erection of a perma- nent college in Penn Township for the accom- modation of at least three hundred poor white male Orphans, above the age of six years. He prescribes the shape and dimensions of this building, the materials of which it shall be com- posed, and the form in which each part shall be constructed. He evidently intended to erect a building which should defy the ravages of the elements, and as far as possible, those of Time. Perhaps his knowledge of mankind instructed him that the greatest benefits are forgotten un- less the tangible monuments are constantly be- fore mens eyes. He might have been restrained had he inquired how many of the graduates of this magnificent Orphan College, of fifty years hence, will remember the name and honor the memory of Stephen Girard. The number of students is to be increased according to the in- - crease of the income. The scholars are to be considered children of the city of Philadelphia, their relations relinquishing all interference with them. If the number of applications for admission shall exceed its means of accommo- dating them, priority is to be given to orphans born in Philadelj~hia1 next to those of Pennsyl- vania, then to t ose born in the city of New- York, that being the first port in the country in which Mr. Girard arrived, and lastly to those born in New-Orleans, that being the first port in which he traded as a seaman. Proper regard is to be paid to the apparel, health and lodging of the scholars, and they are to be taught facts and things, rather than words or signs, and instructed in all the various branches of a sound education, according to their various capacities; and between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, they are to be bound out, under the direction of the city authorities, to suitable occupations. Should the income of any year exceed the de- mands upon it, it is to be invested immediately, and added to clue capital; no part of which is 178 Obituary Notices. ever to be disposed of or pledged to meet the wants of the institution. It is also enjoined that no ecclesiastic, missionary, or minister of any sect whatsoever, shall ever hold or exer- cise any station or duty whatever in said college; nor shall any such person ever be admitted for any purpose, or as a visiter, within the premises appropriated to the purposes of the said college. This restriction is occasioned by no want of respect for the clergy, hut to keep the minds of the scholars free from the excitement of the clashing doctrines of sectarians. Out of the residue, $500,000 is appropriated to certain local improvements. The State is to have $300,000 for purposes of Internal Improvement by canal navigation. The Corporation of the City of Philadelphia is required to publish annually in the month of January, an account of the state of all the bequests and devises, and the condi- tion of the College, which he designates as his primary object. A similar annual report is also tobe made to the Legislature of the State. If the City violates any of the conditions upon which it becomes residuary legatee, the Com- monwealth of Pennsylvania receives the greater part for purposes of internal navigation, and, the Commonwealth failing in the conditions, the remainder is bequeathed to the United Stlites for the purposes of internal navigation, and no other. Iii Prince Georges County, Md. Dr. CLEMENT SMITH, aged 75; he was a surgeon in the revolutionary navy, but was confined in Great- BAtain during most of the war. In Baltimore, Md. MATTHEW Baowrr, Esq. aged 65. He was formerly the editor of the Baltimore Gazette, which he conducted for twelve years with much ability and success. In Mecklenburg county Va DOROTHEA RIPLEY. She was horn at Whitby, England, in the year 1767. She made several attempts to join the Society of Friends, to most of whose rules and regulations she strictly adheredbut as she was much in the habit of traveling in the ministry without leave from the Society, she never was able to obtain admission as a member. She crossed the Atlantic, nineteen times, eleven of which have been since the beginning of 1825. In Fredericksburg, Va. Rev. ROBERT B. SEMPLE, D. D. aged 65. He had been a preach- er in the southeastern section of Virginia, for forty-two years. He was once appointed to the Presidency of Transylvania University. He presided in the Board of Trustees of the Columbian College,in the District of Columbia, the last four years, and was its able and suc- cessful agent. He was President of the Baptist General Convention, and at the head of many important societies. In Richmond, Va. on Christmas day, Mrs. MARY W. MARSHALL, aged 66, wife of John Marshall, Esq. the Chief Justice of the United States. In Newbern, N. C. Mr. FaAzcIs HAWKs, collector of that port for upwards of thirty years. In Columbus, Ohio, Hon. IsAAc MINOR, President of the Board of Canal Commission- ers of that State. In Pickaway County, Ohio, FRANCIS S. MUHLENBERG, Esq. formerly of Reading, Penn. aged 37. Mr. Muhlenberg, a few years ago, re- signed his situation as private secretary to Gov. Heister, and removed to Ohio for the purpose of improving his patrimonial estate which con- sisted in lands derived from the government for revolutionary services. There, as well as in Pennsylvania, his elevated moral character and amiable social qualities secured to him the esteem and confidence of his fellow citizens, who soon manifested the sense of his worth by electing him to the Legislature, and by after- wards honoring him with a seat in Congress. Near Knoxville, Ten. Col. ROBERT CAMP- BELLS aged 77. In a battle with the Cherokees, in 1775, when only nineteen years of age, he was, at one time, so far in advance of his comrades, as to be mistaken for an Indian, and accordingly fired at. Here two bold and reck- less warriors, almost , rashed upon him; the first having shot at him, was in the act of elevating the tomahawk, when he received a mortal wound from another direc- tion ; he dropped his weapon, and throwing his arms round a tree that stood by him, quivered for a moment, and sunk forever. The second having also discharged his piece without effect, although they were not more than twenty paces apart, and whilst in the act of taking aim, the savage hero folded his arms, and met his fate with a dignity and firmness, worthy of the brightest days of chivalry. At this critical period, almost within the enemys line, dis- covering that they were about to surround the white men, he gave the alarm in time to coun- teract it; and throughout the whole engage- ment, his youth and daring attracted the atten- tion of his fellow-soldiers. He was one of the volunteers, under the command of Colonel Christie, who invaded the Cherokee country in October, 1776. In 1780, he distinguished him- self on the memorable 7th of October, at the battle of Kings Mountain. In December, 1780, he was in a third expedition against the turbu- lent Cherokees; he wgs despatched, at his own request, with sixty men, to destroy Chil- howee. Having accomplished their object, they immediately commenced a retrograde movement ; and after proceeding several miles, came to a narrow defile, three hundred yards in extent, and guarded by a line of two or three hundred Indians. Without a pause, and with that cool and deliberate spirit that had shone so brightly at Kings Mountain, Colonel Campbell, at the head of his detachment, or- dered them to sit erect, and charge through single file; and thus, effecting this perilous passage, in the midst of a volley of fire, reach- ed the encampment at Hiwassee, without losing a man. He served the County ef Wash- ington, in Virginia, for nearly forty years, as a magistrate; a respectable and highly respon- sible office. Ia 1825, he emigialed Us the vicinity of Knoxville. In New-Orleans, La., Jossrss BERToULsa, aged SO, a soldier of the French army during the American Revolution, and since then a resident of thiseountry. In Ponce, Porto Rico, THOMAs DAYIO5OIY, Esq. the American Consul, at tlest place, aged 37. 179 180 LITERARY iNTELLIGENCE. IN PRESS. By Carter & Hendee, BostonAn Introduc- tion to the Study of Human Anatomy, with illustrations; by James Paxton, Member of the Royal College of Surgeohs, & c., and author of the notes and illustrations of Paleys Natural Theology, with additians, by an American Sur- geon.The Ladys Family Library. In prep- aration, a series of Books to be called The La- dys Famdy Library, edited by Mrs. Child, au- thor of The Mothers Book, The Frugal Housewife, & c. The series is to be collected from various authentic sources, and written in a new and concise form by the editor. It is intended to embrace all manner of subjects that can be useful and amusingto ladies. Each volume to be illustrated with a good engraving. Mrs. C. pledges herself to exert her utmost abil- ity to make it valuable and entertaining. Vol. 1, Biographies of distinguished and good women. The Art of being Happy. In a series of Let- ters from a Father to his Children, upon the basis of Droz, Ssr lart dEtre hcurear. By Rev. Timotby Flint, author of Travels and Residence in the Mississippi Valley, Geog- raphy of the Western States, & c. & c. A Sketch of the late Revolution in Poland, Ac- companied by explanatory plans and maps. Dy Joseph Hordynski, Major of the 10th regi- ment of Lilbuanian Lancers.A compendium of the Useful Artswith plates. Adapted to the use of schools and acedemies.Self Edu- cation, or the means of Moral Progresstrans- lated from the French of M. La Baron Degeran- do, second edition, 1 vol. l2mo..Elements of Natural Philosophy, for academies and schools. By F. J. Grund, author of a Treatise on plane and solid Geometry and translator of Nuier Hirschs Problems. By J. & J. Harper, New-YorkThe Court and Camp of Bonaparte, 1 vol. lSmo.Pales- tine, or the Holy Land. By Dr. Russell, 1 vol. lSmo.Memoir of Josephine I vol iSmo The Civil Wars of Ireland. by W. C. Taylor, Esq. A. B. In 2 vols. lSmo.Memoirs of Lay- allette, 2 vols.Lives of Female Sovereigns. By Mrs. Jameson. In 2 vols. l2mo.Tour in England, Ireland and France, with remarks on the Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants, and Anecdotes of Distinguished Public Charac- ters. In 2 volsAdventures on the Columbia river, by Ross Cox, Esq. in 2 vols.Polynesian Researches. By W. Ellis, 2 vols.Romance and Reality. By L. E. L., 2 vols.The works of the Rev. Robert Hall, A. M. 2 vols. fivo. The Smuggler. By the author of Tales of the OHara Family, 2 volsEvelina. By Miss Burney, 2 vols.Eugene Aram. By E. L. Bul- wer, Esq. 2 volsCavendish; or the Patrician at Sea, 2 vols.Cameron. A novel. In 2 vols. Keith on Prophecies, 1 vol.Lives of celebrat- ed Travelers. By James St. John, 2 vols. The Romance of HistoryItaly, 2 vols. l2mo. Browns Dictionary of the Bible. Complete edition, Svo.Gibsons Surveyingnew edition Svo.Law of Husband and Wife, l2mo.The British Spyto which is prefixed, Biographical Sketch of the Author, William Wirt, Esq. l2mo. RECENTLY PUBLISHED. By Lilly & Wait, BostonHistorical Parallels being part XI. of the Library of Entertaining Knowledge. By Hilliard & Brown, CambridgeThe American Monthly Review ~o. 1. By Charles Whipple, I~ewburyport,The Amaranth, or Christmas and New-Years Pres- ent, edited by J. H. Buckingham. By J. & J. HarperLife of Sir Isaac Newton, 1 vol.Devere, or the man of Independence, 2 vols.Modern American Cookery, containing copious directions for the Cook, with a list of family medical recipes, and a valuabld Miscel- lany. By Miss Prudence Smith. By Elam Bliss, New-YorkPoems, by Will- iam Cullen Bryant. By Carey & Lea, PhiladelphiaHistory of the Northmen, or Danes and Normans, from the earliest ,,times to the conquest of England, by William of Normandy. By Henry Wheaton. Cabinet Library, containing Lives of British Statesmen, EDITORS~ NOTES. It will be perceived that the department entitled Politics and Statistics is much more extended in this than in any preceding number of the Magazine, and has necessarily produced a curtailment in some of the portions usually devoted to Literary Notices and Miscellanies. The matter composing this department has been prepared with great labor and care, and will, we trust, (if continued as we propose it shall be,) be found useful to those who wish for a compendious history of the proceedings of Congress and of the several State Legislatures. ItT Among the original papers we have on hand for publication are My Evil Genius The North-Eastern Boundary Rare Beasts West Point and a number of poetical contributions. LIT We should be happy to hear again from The Schoolmaster, the discon- tinuance of whose contributions was no less unexpected than it is regretted.

Literary Intelligence Literary Intelligence 180

180 LITERARY iNTELLIGENCE. IN PRESS. By Carter & Hendee, BostonAn Introduc- tion to the Study of Human Anatomy, with illustrations; by James Paxton, Member of the Royal College of Surgeohs, & c., and author of the notes and illustrations of Paleys Natural Theology, with additians, by an American Sur- geon.The Ladys Family Library. In prep- aration, a series of Books to be called The La- dys Famdy Library, edited by Mrs. Child, au- thor of The Mothers Book, The Frugal Housewife, & c. The series is to be collected from various authentic sources, and written in a new and concise form by the editor. It is intended to embrace all manner of subjects that can be useful and amusingto ladies. Each volume to be illustrated with a good engraving. Mrs. C. pledges herself to exert her utmost abil- ity to make it valuable and entertaining. Vol. 1, Biographies of distinguished and good women. The Art of being Happy. In a series of Let- ters from a Father to his Children, upon the basis of Droz, Ssr lart dEtre hcurear. By Rev. Timotby Flint, author of Travels and Residence in the Mississippi Valley, Geog- raphy of the Western States, & c. & c. A Sketch of the late Revolution in Poland, Ac- companied by explanatory plans and maps. Dy Joseph Hordynski, Major of the 10th regi- ment of Lilbuanian Lancers.A compendium of the Useful Artswith plates. Adapted to the use of schools and acedemies.Self Edu- cation, or the means of Moral Progresstrans- lated from the French of M. La Baron Degeran- do, second edition, 1 vol. l2mo..Elements of Natural Philosophy, for academies and schools. By F. J. Grund, author of a Treatise on plane and solid Geometry and translator of Nuier Hirschs Problems. By J. & J. Harper, New-YorkThe Court and Camp of Bonaparte, 1 vol. lSmo.Pales- tine, or the Holy Land. By Dr. Russell, 1 vol. lSmo.Memoir of Josephine I vol iSmo The Civil Wars of Ireland. by W. C. Taylor, Esq. A. B. In 2 vols. lSmo.Memoirs of Lay- allette, 2 vols.Lives of Female Sovereigns. By Mrs. Jameson. In 2 vols. l2mo.Tour in England, Ireland and France, with remarks on the Manners and Customs of the Inhabitants, and Anecdotes of Distinguished Public Charac- ters. In 2 volsAdventures on the Columbia river, by Ross Cox, Esq. in 2 vols.Polynesian Researches. By W. Ellis, 2 vols.Romance and Reality. By L. E. L., 2 vols.The works of the Rev. Robert Hall, A. M. 2 vols. fivo. The Smuggler. By the author of Tales of the OHara Family, 2 volsEvelina. By Miss Burney, 2 vols.Eugene Aram. By E. L. Bul- wer, Esq. 2 volsCavendish; or the Patrician at Sea, 2 vols.Cameron. A novel. In 2 vols. Keith on Prophecies, 1 vol.Lives of celebrat- ed Travelers. By James St. John, 2 vols. The Romance of HistoryItaly, 2 vols. l2mo. Browns Dictionary of the Bible. Complete edition, Svo.Gibsons Surveyingnew edition Svo.Law of Husband and Wife, l2mo.The British Spyto which is prefixed, Biographical Sketch of the Author, William Wirt, Esq. l2mo. RECENTLY PUBLISHED. By Lilly & Wait, BostonHistorical Parallels being part XI. of the Library of Entertaining Knowledge. By Hilliard & Brown, CambridgeThe American Monthly Review ~o. 1. By Charles Whipple, I~ewburyport,The Amaranth, or Christmas and New-Years Pres- ent, edited by J. H. Buckingham. By J. & J. HarperLife of Sir Isaac Newton, 1 vol.Devere, or the man of Independence, 2 vols.Modern American Cookery, containing copious directions for the Cook, with a list of family medical recipes, and a valuabld Miscel- lany. By Miss Prudence Smith. By Elam Bliss, New-YorkPoems, by Will- iam Cullen Bryant. By Carey & Lea, PhiladelphiaHistory of the Northmen, or Danes and Normans, from the earliest ,,times to the conquest of England, by William of Normandy. By Henry Wheaton. Cabinet Library, containing Lives of British Statesmen, EDITORS~ NOTES. It will be perceived that the department entitled Politics and Statistics is much more extended in this than in any preceding number of the Magazine, and has necessarily produced a curtailment in some of the portions usually devoted to Literary Notices and Miscellanies. The matter composing this department has been prepared with great labor and care, and will, we trust, (if continued as we propose it shall be,) be found useful to those who wish for a compendious history of the proceedings of Congress and of the several State Legislatures. ItT Among the original papers we have on hand for publication are My Evil Genius The North-Eastern Boundary Rare Beasts West Point and a number of poetical contributions. LIT We should be happy to hear again from The Schoolmaster, the discon- tinuance of whose contributions was no less unexpected than it is regretted.

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The New-England magazine. / Volume 2, Issue 3 New England magazine American monthly review American monthly magazine J. T. and E. Buckingham Boston March 1832 0002 003
James Savage Savage, James Constitution of Massachusetts Original Papers 181-192

THE NEW-ENGLAND MAGAZINE. MARCh, 1832. ORIGINAL PAPERS. CONSTITUTION OF MASSACHUSETTS. Address delivered before the Massachusetts Lyceum, January 26, 1G32. BY JAMES SAVAGE. GENTLEMEN, AT your request I have consented to deliver an address, and have bestowed my attention upon the History of the Adoption of the Constitution of this Common- wealth. From this topic you must be prepared to expect a dry, very dry asarra- tive, rather than the rich philosophy, which afforded you so high entertainment in the last lecture; * though the present may seem, if particular information could be made as attractive as general disquisition, not an unsuitable sequel to the former. The inquiry, how came the people of Massstchusetts to enjoy a frame of gov- ernment, so skillfully provided for all the emergences of society in a condition of peace, order and prosperity, though it was originated and began its blessed opera- tions in the midst of civil war, of general disquiet, of enormous debt and universal distress, that the imagination of those of us, whose memories cannot extend to that time, is too weak adequately to conceive,must be assuredly found interest- ing; and the answer, from abler lips, ought to be as engaging as the narrative of any crisis in which the concerns of a free republic have ever been decided, and the happiness of future generations assured. If any gratification is afforded by my detail of eventst in performing this task, you may bestow your acknowledge- ments on a member of your body, descended from the honored father of our Con- stitution, whose assiduity in searching into all the evanescent memorials of that period has been amply rewarded by the affluence of his acquisitions, and whose kindness in communicating them enables me to bring out what his modesty pre- ferred to reserve. Sic cos non sobis mellzftcats.s apes. On the violent disruption of the dependence of the Province of Massachusetts Bay upon the mother country, consummated by the hostilities of LePngton and Concord, what form of civil administration should be instantly adopted, was not a very difficult problem. You are, gentlemen, probably acquainted intimately with the circumstances, under which the actual exercise of all power,I mean such as the people would reverence,was in the hands of a Provincial Congress. This name was assumed by the two branches of the General Court, convened as one body on the 5th October, 1774, when Governor Gage had by proclamation, 28th September, declared his intention not to meet the General Court, and excused and discharged the members from giving their attendance at Salem, though he had, on the firstofSeptemberbefore, issued precepts to the several towns fornew elec- tions of Representatives, who were required to assemble at that time and place. By the Boston Port Bill, the town of Salem was made the place for meeting of * On the Constitution of the United States, by Hon. Alexander H. Everett. James Ilowdoin, Esquire. VOL. ii. 24 182 Constitution of Massachusetts. the legislature after its adjournment, directed by that arbitrary statute, on the first of June. It was, however, not a sudden thought, I presume, that led to this device of a representative assembly; for, in the preceding month, a convention of dele- gates from the several towns in the County of Suffolk, assembled at Dedham and continued by adjournment to Milton, had passed a resolution, that no obedience is due from this province to that, and certain other acts of Parliament. Now as the right of the Governor to countermand the meeting of the General Court was denied, the assembling of the members against his order, was, in their situation, a natural step. We must bear in mind, that, had the Representatives assembled at Salem with the Governors sanction, instead of against it, they would not have been a Gen- eral Court, without the Council, elected according to the charter, in May preced- ing, about whose rights a controversy must forthwith have arisen. These the Governor could not acknowledge, for by one of the tyrannical acts of Parliament, that for altering the established form of government,so much of the Charter of William and Mary as related to the time and manner of electing this branch was annulled, and the King had been empowered graciously to appoint our Coun- sellors. His mandamus or warrant had already come to the hands of some willing and some unwilling subjects of the honor. It was, therefore, necessary, that these delegates of the whole people should adopt some other designation than that of a General Court, as the Royal Gover- nor, though he might not have a right to forbid the first meeting and organizing of one branch, could have legally dissolved them immediately after, and must, in obedience to his orders, have prevented any act of Council except by those whom the House would never acknowledge, the nominees of the Kings ministers. But the first law of all communities, the preservation of existence, and the safety of their constituents, required the new Representatives to act in unison. Since it was apparent to all, that no quiet enjoyment of our rights under the Charter of 1691, was soon to be expected, our first Provincial Congress had dissolved them- selves, and called upon the people to make another election of a similar body. This second assembly was in session, when the storm of civil war, that had been anticipated with no doubtful augury, by men of as much foresight as energy, burst upon the Province, unprovided but undismayed. Governor Hutchinson, the most sagacious representative that Great-Britain ever employed in that station, had not heard of the passage of the Act of Parliament for altering the form of gov- ernment before his return to England, and he assures us, in the close of his His- tory recently published, that he dreaded its consequences. Well might he express in this manner his view of the character of men, with whom he had been inti- mately associated from his birth, and with whom he had conducted the war of the pen for a longer season than the siege of Troy. Bat however effectual might be the acquiescence of the people in any recom- mendations of such a Congress, it was soon perceived, that the more solemn forms of law, to which we had always been accustomed, and, indeed, the necessary di- vision of powers, not merely legislative, but administrative and judicial, (for it must be recollected that all courts of justice were suspended,) demanded a totally different basis. In these several capacities, the assembly could not act without usurpation; and if the usurpation had been submitted to, as, from the unbounded confidence reposed in the members, we may not doubt it would have been for some months, the government must have become a tyranny, the natural termina- tion of the exercise of the three powers by a single body of men. Instead of Laws, only recommendations could be issued; and even their Resolves had only the modest import of resolutions. So urgent was the want of a regular govern- ment, and so uneasy the condition of those distinguished men, whose mere word guided the people in this revolutionary state, that on first of April, 1775, only eighteen days before Concord fight, our Provincial Congress had resolved, that if Governor Gage should issue regular writs for calling together an Assembly, that the people ought to obey. But the same body, on the 4th of May, reversed this vote, and the next day resolved, that General Gage has, by the late transac- tions, and many other means, utterly disqualified himself from serving this Colony, as a Governor, or in any other capacity, and that, therefore) no obedience is in future due to him; but that, on the contrary, he ought to be considered and guarded against as an unnatural and inveterate enemy to the country. The sobriety of the members happily influenced them to call upon the community to resume its rights under the charter of William and Mary, and to choose Repre- sentatives to meet in July. It was wisely determined to consider the Governor Constitution of Massachusetts. 183 as absent from the Province, for he resided in Boston as commander of his Majes- tys troops, with whom we were then waging deadly hostilities; and he would not permit a General Court to sit here, nor dared he go to meet them in any other town of his Government. The process, by which self-government was re-acquired, and the state of anarchy terminated, was this: On the 12th of May, the Provincial Congress, having a week before received from its Committee of Safety a recommendation, that government should be assumed forthwith, appointed its President, Dr. Joseph Warren, Dr. Church, Mr. Gerry, Col. Warren, Mr. Sullivan, Col. Danielson, and Col. Lin- coln, a Committee to make application to the Continental Congress, for a recom- mendation to take and exercise civil government. Four days after, a letter from our Assembly was addressed, as from the journals of the General Congress, 2d June, appears, requesting the favor of explicit advice respecting the taking up and exercising the powers of civil government, declaring also our readiness to submit to such a general plan as the Congress may direct for the Colonies, or make it their great study to establish such a form of government there, as shall not only promote their advantage, but the union and interest of all America. The inducement set forth was, the difficulties they labor under for want of a reg- ular form of government, and the necessity of raising an army for defence. The letter was read, laid on the table, and on the following day read again. A Com- mittee, Rutledge, of South-Carolina, Johnson, of Maryland, Jay, of New-York, Wilson, of Pennsylvania, and Lee, of Virginia, was chosen by ballot to consider the same, and report what in their opinion is the proper advice to be given to that Convention. On the 9th of June the illustrious assembly at Philadelphia Resolved that no obedience being due to the Act of Parliament for altering the Charter of the Colony of Massachusetts Bay, nor to a Governor or Lieutenant Governor who will not observe the directions of, but endeavor to subvert that charter, the Governor and Lieutenant Governor of that Colony are to be considered as absent, and their offices vacant; and as there is no Council there, and the inconveniences arising from the suspension of the powers of government are intolerable, especially at a time when General Gage hath actually levied war and is carrying on hostilities against his Majestys peaceable and loyal subjects of that Colony, that in order to conform, as near as may be, to the spirit and substance of the Charter, it be re- commended to the Provincial Convention to write letters to the inhabitants of the several places which are entitled to representation in the assembly, requesting them to choose such representatives, and that the assembly, when chosen, do elect Counsellors; and that such assembly or Council exercise the powers of govern- ment, until a Governor of his Majestys appointment will consent to govern the Colony according to its Charter. Our Provincial Congress, in conformity with this advice, on the 19th of June, addressed the people of Massachusetts, requesting them to choose Representatives to the General Court, to be held at Watertown on the 19th of July following. Such a course may at first sight appear circuitous; but, gentlemen, your second thought, I believe, must justify its wisdom, as likely to deepen the sympathy of our sister Colonies, and to strengthen the confidence of our own citizens in their new-born government, and to insure their obedience to the necessary hardships of its legislation. Conscience would not enforce payment of debts, nor friendship long protect life and property through anarchy, nor could war be many weeks waged in reliance solely on voluntary contribution. For a moment I desire you, gentlemen, to reflect on the parallelism of circum- stances, under which the good people of Massachusetts were thrown upon their resources for adopting a form of government in 1689 and in 1775. At the former period we had suffered the want of a constitutional administration for a much long- er season. Judgement of forfeiture in June, 1684, had passed in the High Court of Chancery against the glorious old Charter ofthe 4th ofMarch, 1629. The transac- tion was, indeed, regular in form, the quo warranto had been issued in July pre- ceding, by order of the Privy Council, in the shameful reign of Charles II. and the notice had been brought to us in October, by Randolph, the wortbiest, because deeply interested, minister of that unprincipled tyranny. In spite of this vacating of all rights under the Charter, our people continued for nearly two years to pur- sue the old forms of choosing a Governor, and holding General Courts; for the xvise government at home, that had nullified all our officers, had forgotten to sub- stitute other instruments of their gracious pleasure, to keep us in unqualified subjection At last, however, it seemed that Massachusetts was worth oppress~ ing, and for above two years no Legislature was permitted to sit in the Colony. 184 Constitution of Massachusetts. Under James II. the tendency to despotism at home became as clear as in the Provinces. Charters were almost universally annulled, and property, the chief object of society, was nearly as insecure in England, where the adamantine bar- riers of law had been three hundred years building around it, as in Massachusetts, where Andros and a petty junto of associates named by the King, derided all titles to lands granted by towns or General Courts, and boldly absorbed all power, legislative, judicial, and executive. In April, 16~9, on the slightest rumor of a revolution in the mother country, our people rose in arms, made prisoners of the Kings governor and his few adherents, and within six weeks had completed the restoration of the last popular governor, assistants and representatives; a conven- tion of delegates from most of the towns having in the interval voted, that the old Charter should be reassumed. Every thing then went on in the former track; and, though we could not nbtain a restoration of our full privileges, a new charter was granted of so great liberality, that our community acquiesced with slight diffi- culty in the exchange. Such an example was not the least valuable instruction conveyed to the descendants of these fearless revolutionists. Governor Gage and tke small body of enconragers of the ministry, in the times of our flithers, found, that they had to deal with a people who knew well how to vindicate principles of self-government, and to apply precedents in favor of liberty. Agreeable to the advice of the Provincial Congress, representatives from the sev- eral towns assembled on the 19th of July, 1775, and proceeded to the election of the number of Counsellors authorized by the Charter of William and Mary. The t~ouncil, you will recollect, was a hranoh of the Legislature; but it was not well constituted for an Executive body, as it was too numerous, besides the fundamental objection from its confusion of the characters of legislation and administration. No doubt the intent of the Charter was, to give all strictly executive power to the Governor, or, in his absence to the Lieutenant Governor, yet requiring, for cer- tain purposes, the advice and consent of council. But, for the possible case of failure of both Governor and Lieutenant Governor, the provision had been intro- duced, of which advantage was now taken. In a situation, assumed by necessity, claiming to act only pursuant to a Char- ter, designed for essentially different parposes, our fathers experienced difficulties and embarrassments. Seven members were a quorum by Charter, if the Gover- nor, or, in the absence of the Governor, the Lieutenant Governor, were present; but the major part was necessary to execute any such ant, matter, or thing, as the Governor, or, in his absence the Lieutenant Governor could. Of course, fifteen were required to do any executive act, and this numbor was not easily to be obtained. It was the seventh day of this renovation of government, before such a quorum appeared. Another failure appears in the proceedings of the House, for the Speaker, James Warren, was not approved, as by Stat. George I. ainendatory of the Charter was required. This ceremony would undoubtedly have been adhered to; had there been any Council in existence to act as Governor. But it would seem anomalous for the House, though by all its subsequent acts it recognized the authority of Governor as existing in this majority of the Council, having just created these Counsellors, to present to them their speaker for appro- bation. We must consider the transaction as the first step upward from the state of nature; for the ilouse could not act in election of Counsellors before it had a speaker, though by the Charter it could have no speaker until he was approved. Absolute need of a reel Governor may also be inferred from many natural inci- dents. He alone, by the Charter of 1691, under which we professed to act, had full power, without advice of Council, by himself, or any chief commander, or other officer or officers by hhn to be appointed, to train, instruct, exercise and govern the militia, to lead and conduct them, to encounter and repel enemies, to build and demolish forts, to adjourn, prorogue or dissolve, as he judged necessary, the General Court. By the appointment of Washington to supreme command, and its other acts, the Continental Congress had indeed assumed most of the con- duct of the war then raging, and thus relieved us from the awkwardness of hav- ing a many-headed leader of our armies. Yet a lamentable want of happy provis- ion for proroguing or dissolving the General Court is seen, when one branch of the Legislature, and that a numerous one, has the sole power over the other. Every niind must be instantly struck with the inadequacy of such a form of gov- ernment to the peoples need in their novel circumstances. From any judicial decision of a certain amount, appeal lay to the King in Council. As however all administration of justice was suspended, this would produce no inconvenience for the short time that such state continued. The law makisig power, also, was re Constitution of Massachusetts. 185 stricted under the Charter, for its acts must all have been sent to England for the royal approbation, and became absolutely null, if disallowed within three years. As full force, however, was given them in the mean time, this difficulty would have proved very trifling, had any conciliation with the mother country seemed probable. It may hardly seem necessary to add, that Independence soon became no less indispensable to propriety of forms, than to the essential rights of the community, and the claims of human nature. These embarrassments may be thought, however, of slight importance, because no conflict would arise about the manner of avoiding them. They might be shaken off, like dew-drops from the lions mane. But serious difficulties soon grew up from an uncertainty, real or unreal, about the appointing power to cer~ tam offices, which the emergency of the times rendered necessary, or from the natural disposition of a more numerous branch t& interfere with the functions of the executive in particular nominations. All the Judges, Registers, Sheriffs, Cor- oners, Justices of the Peace for the several counties, and Judges of the Superior Court, had in about three months received appointments, in number about five hundred, from the new republican executive, in which no interposition was thought of by the House. But in the latter part of October, a disagreement arose between the two branches, about the appointment ofAttorney-General, and of all military officers, which created some delay in organizing troops, and produced much recriminative argument in messages. These questions are more likely at such times to be adjusted by sympathy than by logic; and the greater number will perhaps too often be thought right in a revolution, even though the constitution, for violation of which arms are resorted to, should clearly decide the validity of opinions asserted by a less numerous part of the constituted authorities. Patriot- ism induced the Council to yield these points, and their executive power was reduced in these particulars from the large reach of the Charter provisions, to the solemnity of signing commissions. The first motion towards a regular formation of government seems to have begun in the town of Pittsfield, as early as February, 1776, yet perhaps its petition was not urgently enforced upon that Legislature, whose term of service was, with short adjournments, continued until the near approach of the new political year. Equal duration had been necessary for the Provincial Congress, whose session con- tinued until the 19th of July, 1775, the very day of the first General Court of the rev- olution. By this Petition the Court was asked to form a fundamental Constitution for the Province, after leave is asked and obtained from the Honorable Continental Congress, and that said Constitution be sent abroad for the approbation of the majority of the people in this Colony, that in this way we may emerge from a state of nature and enjoy again the blessings of civil government. On the 1st of July this paper was referred to the Committee appointed on the 6th of June, to consider, digest and report a fbrm of government. At the next session, in Sep- tember, this committee, whose names we cannot learn by reason of the deficiency of the Journals, was enlarged by addition of five members, Col. Orne, Judge Cushing, Mr. Sargent, Mr. Partridge and Mr. Appleton, and two or three vacan- cies were filled. But the most influential cause that led to a new model of the form of govern- ment arose from the great mistake of the first Legislature, in their Act, August 17, 1775, declaratory of the rights of towns and districts to send Representatives to the General Court. This you may find in the appendix to the volume usually called Ancient Charters, published by our state government some years ago. From this act flowed two great evils, as the whole community soon found; one, a representation very unequal; the other, a house exceedingly numerous, as it seemed, being much larger than that to which the Province had been accustomed in the twelve years controversy, for the rights of the people, which had been infringed upon or restrained by the Acts of Parliament. A most powerful Memo- rial, agreed on by a Convention of Delegates from all the towns, except Danvers and Beverly, in the county of Essex, assembled at Jpswich, April 25th, 1776, was presented by a Committee of the body, John Lowell, Stephen Choate, and Col. Daniel Spofford, of whom any two by vote of the following day, were directed to desire to be heard on the floor of the House in support of it. Four days after, the town of Beverly chose a delegate to sign the memorial in their behalf, and the following day the town of Danvers, after full hearing and due examination of said memorial, voted unanimously their concurrence with its sentiments, so that the whole body of the county, then far the most populous in the Commor~wealth, advanced its opinion, when Judge Lowell was admitted to address the House in 186 Constitution of Massachusetts. its support. You will, gentlemen, excuse an extract from their language, simple, energetic, and fit to bear comparison with any later exhibition of principles: If representation is equal, it is perfect; as far as it deviates from this equality, so far it is imperfect, and approaches to the state of slavery ;and the want of a just weight in representation is an evil nearly akin to being totally destitute of it. An inequality of representation has been justly esteemed the cause which has in a great degree sapped the foundation of the once admired, but now tottering fabric of the British empire; and we fear, that if a different mode of representation from the present is not adopted in this colony, our Constitution will not continue to the late period of time, which the glowing heart of every true American now anticipates. In the early period of our settlement, the Memorial proceeds, when thirty or forty families were first permitted to send each a representative to the General Assembly, there can be no doubt, but the proportionate equality was duly adjust- ed; nor is there much more doubt but that, as just an equality took place in the several corporations of the British empire, when the rule was first established there. That striking, that unjust disproportion, which fills us with disgust and detestation, has arisen in Britain chiefly from the great increase of numbers and wealth in some places of that empire, and a decrease in others, and continued from a blind attachment to the forms of authority in some, and a wicked disposi- tion in others, who found an effectual way to turn this inequality to their own advantage, though to the destruction of the state. We cannot realize, that your Honors, our wise political fathers, have adverted to the present inequality of representation in this Colony, to the growth of the evil, or to the fatal consequences which will probably ensue from the continu- ance of it. Each town and district in the Colony is by some late regulations, permitted to send one representative to the General Court, if such town or district consists of thirty freeholders and other iuhabitants qualified to elect, if of one hundred and twenty to send two. No town is permitted to send more than two, except the town of Boston, which may send four. There are some towns and districts in the Colony, in which there are between thirty and forty freeholders and other inhabit- ants qualified to elect only; there are others besides Boston, in which there are pore than five hundred. The first of these may send one Representative, the latter can send only two. If these towns as to property are to each other in the same respective proportion, is it not clear to a mathematical demonstration, that the same number of inhabitants of equal property in the one town, have but an eigktlt part of the weight in representation with the other? and with what colora- ble pretext we would decently inquire. After proceeding to prove by parallel cases from various parts of the country the superior weight of a less proportion of numbers than would be found in the towns which present this Memorial, in the ratio of five to one, this paper con- cludes : If a new system of government, or any material alteration in the old, is to be in the contemplation of the next general Assembly, is it not fitting that the whole community should be equally concerned in adjusting this system? The many evil consequences that will naturally and must inevitably arise from this in- equality of representation, we trust we need not attempt to mark out to a wise and free House of Americans,the delineation would be disagreeable as well as indecent. Nor would we arrogantly suggest to your Honors the mode of redress. We confide in your wisdom and justice, and if an equality of representation takes place in the Colony, we shall be satisfied, whether it has respect to numbers, to property, or to a combination of both. The Memorial being referred to Major Hawley, Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Partridge, Mr. Phillips, Col. Brooks, Col. Freeman and Col. Orne, an Act was passed in conse- quence, on the 4th of May, materially changing the effect of the obnoxious statute of the preceding year. By the new act, towns having two hundred and twenty freeholders and other inhabitants qualified, might send three representatives; hav- ing three hundred and twenty, might send four, and so in proportion. This hasty legislation answered the purpose of curing the evil of inequality, but it increased the evil of repletion. In the new General Court, May 29th, 1776, the number of representatives was two hundred and sixty, double the amount ever known to vote in the House for one hundred and forty years previous to 1774. It then seemed ex- cessive, nor could the hall of the State House accommodate such a crowd. Bos- ton had twelve members; and, on the third day of the session, motiop was made to discharge the members from Boston and other towns, who had sent a larger Constitution of Alassacltusetts. 187 number than they were before empowered to elect. Though this motion could not be sustained in the very face of the law passed afew days before, yet great dissatisfaction spread in many parts of the community. On the 17th of September, 1776, a resolve was passed, calling on the several towns to hold meetings, and consider of the question, whether it was the desire of the inhabitants that the General Court should make a constitution or frame of gov- ernment. I have seen the returns from one hundred and sixteen towns, but pre- sume that many others are mislaid or lost, among which are those of several of the principal in the state. More than two to one made an affirmative reply; but the reasons against the measure seem to have been so strong, as to outweigh with the Legislature the voice of the majority. Boston, at a meeting on the lith of Oc- tober, continued to the 16th, voted, unanimously, nay, giving reasons, because it is a matter of great concerumeift, and requires great deliberation and advice and information from every quarter. Some towns voted yea, if the Council and House should unite in drawing the frame of government; others, nay, if such union were had, but yea for the House alone. Almost the whole County of Worcester, and several towns in other parts inland, were decidedly against the measure, on ac- count of the present representation being so unequal, and because, also, it was not chosen for such service. Where dissent was expressed, reasons were usually giv- en at great length. Among those of the town of Petersham, is this; the late alteration of representation must enlarge the House to so enormous a size that it must be very unwieldy. That General Court had wisdom enough to do nothing more, than to pass on the 5th of May, 1777, a resolve, which, after reciting, that the happiness of man- kind depends very much on the form and constitution of government they live under, and that the only object and design of government should be the good of the people, are truths well understood at this day, and taught by reason and expe- rience very clearly at all times, and that having duly considered the advanta- ges of forming, as soon as may be, a new constitution of government, and con- ceiving it to be the expectation of many, that we should recommend the most suitable method for effecting this valuable and important purpose, proceeds that it be and hereby is recommended to the several towns and places in this State, empowered by the laws thereof to send members to the General Assembly, that, at their next election of a member or members to represent them, they make choice of men, in whose integrity and abilities they can place the greatest confidence ; nnd,in addition to the common and ordinary powers of representation, instruct them, in one body with the Council, to form such a constitution of government as they shall judge bestealculated to promote the happiness of this state, and when completed to cause the same to be printed in all the Boston newspapers, and also. in hand-bills, one of which to be transmitted to the Selectmen of each town, or the Committee ofeach plantation, to be by them laid before their respective towns or plantations at a regular meeting of the inhabitants thereof, to be called for that purpose, in order to its being by each town and plantation duly considered ;and a return of their approbation or disapprobation to be made into the Secretarys of- fice of this state, at a reasonable time to be fixed on by the General Court, speci- fying the numbers present in each meeting, voting for, and those voting against the same ;and if upon a fair examination of the said returns by the General Court, it shall appear that the said form of government is approved of by at least two thirds of those who are free and 21 years of age, belonging to this state, and present in the several meetings, then the General Court shall be empowered to establish the same as the Constitution and form of government of the state of Massachusetts Bay, according to which the inhabitants thereof shall be governed in all succeeding generations, unless the same shall be altered by their own ex- press direction, or that of at least two thirds of them. And it is further recom- mended to the Selectmen of the several towns, in the return of their precepts for the choice of representatives, to signify their having considered this resolve, and their doings thereon. As it appeared by the returns, that a majority of the people had, in conformity with this project, chosen representatives with the power to prepare a draft of a Constitution, a Convention of the members of the House and of the Council, then newly chosen, was formed during the first session of the General Court, on the 17th of June, 1777, when a Committee was appointed of one from each county, and an additional number of five chosen at large, by written vote. With the ex- ception of Dukes and Nantucket, neither of which had then any member present, the selection of the counties was, as follows: Thomas Cushing, John Pickering, 188 Constitution of Miassachusetts. James Prescott, John Bliss, George Partridge, Daniel Davis, Robert T. Paine, Joseph Simpson, Seth Washburn, Jeremiah Powell, John Taylor and John Bacon. The five additional membei~s, James Warren, Azor Orne, Noah Goodman, Isaac G. Stone, and Eleazer Brooks, were chosen next day. The Convention continu- ed, by adjournments from time to time, until the eighth meeting on the 11th of December following, the Committee reported. During this long period, the Committee, which assembled on the 19th of June, having Mr. Cushing for its Chairman and Mr. Pickering for Clerk, appear to have labored assiduously every working day till the 5th of July, and also the twelve first days of September, and two or three days in December, before the report was matured. Of their Journal I have been favored with a copy. When the report was received by the Conven- tion, it was ordered to be printed under direction of the Committee, the printer directed to suffer no copy to be taken from his office, but to deliver the whole, 300, together with the original, to the Clerk for the use of the members, and that the printer be under oath to print no more than the number aforesaid, and that he break up and distribute the types in presence of one of the Committee, and that no member be permitted to deliver a copy or suffer a copy to be taken by any per- son who does not belong to the Convention. We may well be excused for smil- ing at this anxiety of our fathers to keep so invaluable a secret, as the draft of the fundamental law, which was to control every man, woman and child of this hap- py community, as well as the stranger within their gates. The Convention ad- journed to the 15th of January, 1778, from which date to the 5th of March, the body was regularly employed in discussion and amendment of the report. It was very materially changed by additions and alterations, of none of which it may seem necessary for me, gentlemen, to speak; as the result of this grand delfberation was sent out to the people, in the form which you may find in the appendix to 2d volume of Bradfords History of the Commonwealth. Much more interesting to you is the treatment that this long polished draft of the supreme law received from the people. Instead of a majority of two thirds in its favor, made requisite by the resolve under which the Convention acted, it was rejected by the proportion of five to one; and to us, who have enjoyed the felici- ty of a constitution so much more perfect, it may seem remarkable, how so many as two thousand votes could have been given for its acceptance. An imperfect statement of the returns, embracing those of one hundred and twenty-six towns, from the papers of the father of the present Governor of the Commonwealth, af- fords me some details. Only a single county, Barnstable, shows a majority, and that very small, in its favor. Unanimous votes were given in four townsfor, and in fifty-seven towns against it. Yet the demerit of this plan would not, I believe, have been so generally perceived, had not the same sagacity, which detected and denounced the injustice of the scheme of representation in the act of August, 1775, been again calleA into exercise. A Convention of Delegates from the towns of Salem, Danvers, Wenham, Manchester, Gloucester, Ipswich, Newburyport, Salisbury, Methuen, Boxford and Topifield, was early holden; and, after debate, at an adjournment on the 29th of April, they adopted a series of eighteen resolu- tions, each containing a brief exhibition of grounds of objection. They then ap- pointed a committee to attempt the ascertaining of the true principles of gov- ernment, applicable to this Commonwealth, to state the non-conformity ofthe Constitution proposed to those principles, and to delineate the general outlines of a Constitution conformable thereto. At an adjournment on the 12th of May, the committee reported. To this report, then accepted, together with the resolutions previously adopted, is usually given the honored name ot the Essex Result; and I am unable to refrain from calling it the most admirable condensation of po- litical wisdom, that our country, or perhaps any country in so small compass, has ever produced. No man should feel himself authorized to speak definitively of our present constitution, as a whole, without maturely considering this broad foun- dation of it, laid nearly two years before the superstructure was attempted. Glad- ly would I persuade myself, gentlemen, that no essential amendment of our great charter will ever be urged by the leading minds of our community, without re- currence to its pages for illumination. So scarce, however, is this tract become, that perhaps not one in ten who hear me has been able to peruse it For one or two points, therefore, though not the most valuable, yet the most connected with topics of present discussion, you will, gentlemen, undoubtedly be more gratified with extracts than with my humble re- marks. In the last number of the North American Review, an eloquent writer expresses a doubt of the necessity of two houses of legislation; whether the plan, Constitution of Massachusetts. 189 uniform in our country in each of the twenty-four republics, rests on any real ground of expediency or convenience. To me, nothing, however, has ever ap- peared so absolutely indispensable to the foundation of a republic, except, indeed, the independence of a judiciary, and this part of the foundation would be likely soon to give way without the other. On this topic, the wisdom of the dead speaks in the Essex Result. The legislative power must not be trusted with one as- sembly. A single assembly is frequently influenced by the vices, follies, passions and prejudices of an individual. It is liable to be avaricious, and to exempt itself from the burdens it lays upon its constituents. It is subject to ambition and after a series of years, will be prompted to vote itself perpetual. The long Parliament in England voted itself perpetual, and thereby, for a time, destroyed the political liberty of the subject. Holland was governed by one representative assembly an- nually elected. They afterwards voted them selves from annual to septennial; then for life; and finally, exerted the power of filling up all vacancies, without application to their constituents. The government of Holland is now a tyranny, though a Republic. The result of a single assembly will be hasty and indigested, and their judge- ments frequently absurd and inconsistent. There must be a second body to revise with coolness and wisdom, and to control with firmness, independent upon the first, either for their creation or existence. Yet the first must retain a right to a similar revision and control over the second. This is the sound doctrine of checks and balances, as necessary, it is usually thought, in the portion of the ma- chine, called the legislative, as in the combination of the whole organs of the body politic. On the question of representation in the more numerous branch, which has al- ways been the most difficult part of our mechanism to adjust, which was not less unfortunately managed by the convention of 1777, than other portions of its plan, and to which you are compelled by circumstances to give your attention, you will be pleased with the views of this powerful state paper, however hard it may be to reconcile them with our favorite speculations, or the precepts of later experience. The rights of representation should be so equally and impartially distributed, that the representatives should have the same views and interests with the people at large. They should think, feel, and act like them, and, in fine, should be an exact miniature of their constituents. They should be (if we may use the expres- sion) the whole body politic, with all its property, rights and privileges, reduced to a smaller scale, every part being diminished in just proportion. To pursue the metaphor,if in adjusting the representation of freemen, any ten are reduced into one, all the other tens should be alike reduced; or if any hundred should be re- duced to one, all the other hundreds should have just the same reduction. The representation ought also to be so adjusted, that it should be the interest of the rep- resentatives, at all times, to 4o justice; therefore equal interest among the people should have equal interest among the body of representatives. The majority of the representatives should also represent a majority of the people, and the legisla- tive body should be so constructed, that every law affecting property should have the consent of those who hold a majority of the property. The law would then be determined to be for the good of the whole by the proper judge, the majority, and the necessary consent thereto would be obtained; and all the members of the state would enjoy political liberty, and an equal degree of it. If the scale, to which the body politic is to be reduced, is but a little smaller than the original, or, in other words, if a small number of freemen should be reduced to one, that is, send one representative, the number of representatives would be too large for the public good. The expenses of government would be enormous. The body would be too unwieldy to deliberate with candor and coolness. The variety of opinions and oppositions would irritate the passions. Parties would be formed and factions engendered. The members would list under the banners of their respective lead- ers; address and intrigue would conduct the debates, and the result would tend only to promote the ambition or interest of a particular party. Such has always been in some degree the course and event of debates instituted and managed by a large multitude. After the rejection, by so powerful a majority, of the plan of the convention, sub- mitted in 1778, the General Court passed on February 20, 1779, a resolve, direct- rng the citizens of the Commonwealth in their several towns, on or before the last Wednesday of May next, to consider and determine the two questions; first, whether they choose at this time to have a new constitution or form of govern VOL. 51. 25 190 Constitution of Massachusetts. ment made ; second, whether they will empower their representatives to vote for the calling a state convention, for the sole purpose of forming a new Constitu- tion, provided the first question were answered affirmatively by a majority. When the returns showed a large majority in favor of these propositions, a re- solve passed, June 21, 1779, recommending choice of delegates to meet at Cam- hridge on the 1st of September following. From the hlessed deliberations of that venerable body, then assembled and continued by adjournments to March 2, 1780, proceeded our Constitution. It was accompanied with an Address, explanatory of most of its provisions, and furnishing a key to their construction. An adjournment by the Convention to the first Wednesday of June after, was had to receive the returns of votes from the several towns on the respective parts of the solemn in- strument, the body having determined, unless two thirds of their constituents were in favor, to alter the draft in such manner as to make it agreeable to that propor- tion of the voters. In their primary assemblies, the people expressed by the re- quisite majority their approbation of all parts of the instrument, and empowered the Convention to fix the time for its incepbion and organization of all its depart- ments. You well know, that this time was the last Wednesday of October in that year. Some who hear me were fortunate enough to live at that time, and what a fund for reflection have they on the wonderful improvements which have attended our social condition in almost uninterrupted succession to this moment. Many of us remember the date of fifteen years, which was in the instrument itself fixed upon for ascertaining, by the peoples votes, their sentiment~ on the necessity or expediency of revising the Constitution, in order to amendments, and the great degree of unanimity then expressed against any change. For the long trial of your patience, gentlemen, in listening to this minute rela- tion, an apology might he necessary, had not you selected the subject. You plan- ned the voyage, and directed the pilot to transport you through no verdant isles, nor along coasts, where you could be exhilarated by Sabman odors from the spicy shore Of Araby the blest. But the expedition will not have been unprofitable, if you return with a just sense of the difficulties of arranging a complex system of civil polity, a grateful reve- rence for the founders of our admirable Constitution, and a fixed resolution to do what in you lies to perpetuate its principles and extend their blessings. In the government of a state, recollection of old truth is nearly as valuable as discovery of new. Perhaps I ought not to close without modestly urging you to observe, that the most likely provisions to excite opposition in any arrangement of our affairs, from the earliest date, were those relative to representation. Either inequality in the relative weights, or irregularity in their adjustment, or the unnecessary expense of their pay, has, withjittle exception, been always observable in this part of our machinery, for above 6ne hundred and ninety years. At the beginning, every town was allowed three deputies, but, in five years, the number which seemed too large, when it reached thirty-three, was reduced to two for each. The expense, though it included only the diet of members, was a heavy burden on the treasury, but f~r several years after the house was not fuller. By the great increase of Bos- ton forty years later, it was permitted to claim one more deputy. In the charter of William and Mary, two were allowed to all towns; but the right being then granted to the Legislature to fix it for the future, one of the earliest acts was to re- strict towns having but a certain number of freeholders to one representative, al- lowing larger ones two, and Boston alone four. The several towns paid their own members, as you will find in the statute, passed when all enjoyed equally the priv- ilege of two; and they frequently exercised but half their power, and sc?metimes declined its exercise altogether for many years in succession. One of the great- est contests in the House, iii the early times under the new charter, was decided in 1694, by twenty-six votes against twenty-four, and yet this was about represen- tation. In the agitating period between 1762 and 1773, you will observe the two parties amount to one hundred and ten and upwards; but no question ever taken called for more than one hundred and nineteen, exceptonce, when Governor Hutch- inson observes upon the magnitude of the interest having drawn one hundred and thirty. In May, 1774, the last session under the charter, when the reyolution, so long preparing by both mother country and Province, was instantly impending, the complete returns in the journals show one hundred and forty. The first House under the present Constitution, had two hundred members; for the fifteenth house, and the year of its being put upon trial by the grand inquest of the people, one Constitution of Alassackusetts. 191 hundred and sixty-five representatives were returned. About as many constituted the House, I think, only seven or eight years since. Equal laws on important subjects were not less likely to be proposed and adopted in such assemblies, than in the great congregation we have sometimes seen within these walls. Twenty years ago I hadthe honor of a right to a seat here, when the representatives were above seven hundred; and one tdwn favored the Commonwealth with its delegate, whose constituents were so few, that, had an equal proportion through the state been allowed to show equal kindness, the number would have exceeded five thous- and three hundred.* A stranger might have been astonished at the manner in which the door-keeper performed his anxious duty, and he would, perhaps, have irreverently said, that the members had been subjected to the treatment, which carcases undergo from the Inspector General of Provisions. Yet the irregularity of our exercise of the great franchise is still mere discordant with the adequate theory of the Republic than this occasional assembly of an un- wieldy mass. At one time the local interest, upon which great excitement was felt in Berkshire, which is equal to little more than a twentieth of the state, brings here four times its just ratio of members, if the residue be counted. Six or eight sessions after, the troops of Bristol outnumber all those from West of Middlesex, whose quota for the levy should have been five-fold greater. Partial legislation may be feared in such circumstances. While the expense was kept down by the annual tax-act calling on the sev- ml towns for the reimbursement of pay for attendance of their members, ac- cording to the elder law, and the construction of the Constitution by contem- poraneous authority, continued with only a single exception for forty years, the charge on the community of their representation was comparatively small. Should these old instalments be now called in, your empty treasury suddenly swells with an accumluation of five or six hundred thousand dollars. But, probably, no such resort will be had; for the argument is very strong, that the member elected by a town becomes the representative of the Common- wealth, and the common treasury should disburse for this as for any other common service. It is a very general sentiment, that, in this particular, our Constitution, if it does not, ought to permit the charge without qualification of repayment. As then the Commonwealth ought to provide for payment of these servants, it has a right, undoubtedly, to regulate the number of servants it will employ. Nobody denies this right, but great diversity of opinion arises on the first proposition for its exercise. One thinks there should be a numerous rep- resentation to regard all the interests of this happy Commonwealth, and that one member should come for every fifteen hundred inhabitants; another proposes the ratio of two thousand; another, that of three thousand; another four, and another five thousand. So it is assumed, that one hundred and twenty, one hundred and fifty, two hundred, three hundred and five, or four hundred and seven would be the just number of the House of Representatives on the respective bases of math- ematical equality. Yet it is quite out of the question to apply this numerical pre- cision between representatives and constituents. And if it were possible, it would be extremely unwise. For if your supreme law fixed the quota of two thousand persons as entitled to one member, hoping that three hundred and five would not be too large, it would be doubled in a very few years. The life of the constitution of the republic is not to be degraded to the standard of human breathing time, of few days and full of trouble. Let us do honor to principles that will outlive one generation or thirty. When the desirable number of the house is fixed, you know the limits of the Commonwealth cannot be extended, though its population may well be quadrupled, and, perhaps, admit of indefinite increase. Of course, you will not believe, gentlemen, that I descend to the impertinence of intruding my private opinion on the interesting topic, to which by the preced- ing Legislature and by the annual communication of the Governor of the State, you are required to give your attention. On a former occasion, some years since, the right was exercised among my equals. How that opinion is confirmed, or weakened, or modified by experience or consultation with others, it would be in- delicate to utter in the presence of so many, my superiors in age, in learning, in political sagacity, and every moral and intellectual endowment. One thing you will pardon me for expressing, that however great may be the ability of those before me to exceed any the most devoted services of mine to the Constitution, * In the diminution of the state, by the loss of Mai,ie, the relative weight of HULL has inerea~- ed. Instead of one five thousand three huedred and twentieth, it is now one three thousind and eightieth of the whole. nut it has had no representative siiiee, and, 1 presume, never had before. 192 Some Recollections of a Village. none can go beyond me in heartiness of admiration of it. Blind attachment only could assert, that it is perfect; but judicious affection would gladly remove the little excrescence, straighten the slight crook, and extract the thorn, which indeed diminishes not its vital strength, though it sometimes awkwardly affects its car- riage. Of one thing we may be sure, that no success in binding its limbs, to en- sure an unequal growth of one part, and withering of another, will be lasting. This has been attempted, and the ligaments have been burst, like the green withes of Sampson. Equality of rights the people wi,ll have, and wo be to the intriguer who thinks to blind them with a temporary advantage arising from the sacrifice of justice to expediency. The very portion of the community whose local benefit was pretended to be subserved by the offence, would unite with the injured in pouring scorn upon the offender. Artifices to rule a majority by a minority, with the sanction of forms of Jaw, will forever be unavailing here; they will roll back, like the stone of Sisyphus, and crush the impious designer. Even a mistake in legislation must be corrected, or ignorance will, in hiding behind it, after its character is exposed, become chargeable as intended deception. For the counterfeiting of a bank note, and the attempt to pass it, after ignorantly receiv- ing, yet now knowing its baseness, you have slightly discriminated in the appor- tionment of punishment. Clean hands and pure hearts, and no other, are fit for the worship in this temple. If you would have the constitution enduring as the hundred hills of Massachusetts, you must be governed by motives, in administer- ing it, as pure as the breezes of heaven that sweep over them. SOME RECOLLECTIONS OF A VILLAGE. THE Prince of Benevento, who is more commonly called Talleyrand, has said that an American village is a practical analysis of the origin of states and empires. Men meet there in perfect independence, and, entering into the social compact, reserve all their natural rights, with the slight deduction that is necessary to cement the social fabric. Talleyrands figure has, however, a better application in Illinois than in Massachusetts, v~ihere the social system has been long established. A New-England village (thus a township may be called, as a village is its head) is a more perfect democracy than ever existed at Athens; no member has greater privileges than another, and if he has more estima- tion or influence than another, it comes from superior prudence, knowl- edge, or usefulness, which things have weight even in the savage state. In all communities that were ever known, there is this sort of aristocra- cy, not defined or acknowledged by law, but yet certain and inevitable in practice. The very titles in a village government, are those that denote the body of the people as well as the persons of the magistrates; for what are the Selectmen, those grave, conscript fathers, but individ- uals chosen, as their title indicates, from their equals, the mass of the inhabitants? Their tenure of office is but slender, and even if they do well, the electing sovereigns will not uphold them long in their high places, lest honors and power should inflate them, and raise them in their own estimation above their peers. There is, indeed, only one dignitary in a village whom men will call master, (though custom has sanctioned greater abuses;) this is the learned man who administers the birch, and presides over the school. In some sort he is a master; and one of his class has said that he is ruler in the parish. I rule the

Some Recollections of a Village Original Papers 192-197

192 Some Recollections of a Village. none can go beyond me in heartiness of admiration of it. Blind attachment only could assert, that it is perfect; but judicious affection would gladly remove the little excrescence, straighten the slight crook, and extract the thorn, which indeed diminishes not its vital strength, though it sometimes awkwardly affects its car- riage. Of one thing we may be sure, that no success in binding its limbs, to en- sure an unequal growth of one part, and withering of another, will be lasting. This has been attempted, and the ligaments have been burst, like the green withes of Sampson. Equality of rights the people wi,ll have, and wo be to the intriguer who thinks to blind them with a temporary advantage arising from the sacrifice of justice to expediency. The very portion of the community whose local benefit was pretended to be subserved by the offence, would unite with the injured in pouring scorn upon the offender. Artifices to rule a majority by a minority, with the sanction of forms of Jaw, will forever be unavailing here; they will roll back, like the stone of Sisyphus, and crush the impious designer. Even a mistake in legislation must be corrected, or ignorance will, in hiding behind it, after its character is exposed, become chargeable as intended deception. For the counterfeiting of a bank note, and the attempt to pass it, after ignorantly receiv- ing, yet now knowing its baseness, you have slightly discriminated in the appor- tionment of punishment. Clean hands and pure hearts, and no other, are fit for the worship in this temple. If you would have the constitution enduring as the hundred hills of Massachusetts, you must be governed by motives, in administer- ing it, as pure as the breezes of heaven that sweep over them. SOME RECOLLECTIONS OF A VILLAGE. THE Prince of Benevento, who is more commonly called Talleyrand, has said that an American village is a practical analysis of the origin of states and empires. Men meet there in perfect independence, and, entering into the social compact, reserve all their natural rights, with the slight deduction that is necessary to cement the social fabric. Talleyrands figure has, however, a better application in Illinois than in Massachusetts, v~ihere the social system has been long established. A New-England village (thus a township may be called, as a village is its head) is a more perfect democracy than ever existed at Athens; no member has greater privileges than another, and if he has more estima- tion or influence than another, it comes from superior prudence, knowl- edge, or usefulness, which things have weight even in the savage state. In all communities that were ever known, there is this sort of aristocra- cy, not defined or acknowledged by law, but yet certain and inevitable in practice. The very titles in a village government, are those that denote the body of the people as well as the persons of the magistrates; for what are the Selectmen, those grave, conscript fathers, but individ- uals chosen, as their title indicates, from their equals, the mass of the inhabitants? Their tenure of office is but slender, and even if they do well, the electing sovereigns will not uphold them long in their high places, lest honors and power should inflate them, and raise them in their own estimation above their peers. There is, indeed, only one dignitary in a village whom men will call master, (though custom has sanctioned greater abuses;) this is the learned man who administers the birch, and presides over the school. In some sort he is a master; and one of his class has said that he is ruler in the parish. I rule the Some Recollections of a Village. 193 boys, said he; they lead the mothers, and these govern their hus- bands. Qui regit per alium regit per Se. But it is not politic or safh, for any Dyonisius of the school-house to inflict punishment on his temporary subjects; the Magister must do more by flattery than flogging; it is a free country, and stripes are for slaves. If little TQinmy is gently scourged for lying, he has the satis- faction of seeing the torment retorted in another and a less tolerable shape upon the pedagogue. The mothers make common cause, for the darling of each one is liable to this tyranny; and the schoolmaster now finds that the wives may persuade, if they do not govern the hus- bands. It clamor, a clamor arises, the cause is investigated, the testi- mony of the flogged is trusted, and the master dismissed as an unfeel- ing and barbarous savage, who knocks his scholars down, or flays them alive. If the master is so gentle or so shrewd, that he will find some sub- stitute for punishment, he may get along well, as the phrase is, though his scholars do not; he has only to say to all parents, that their own children are the best in school, and his representations will need no proof, and he will want no friends. But confinement of a boy in school is worse than imprisonment for debt; it is a bad system, that ha~ come down from the dark ages; it is a remnant of monastic discipline, that unhappily survived the reforma- tion. Who, when he becomes a man, can endure Horace, and Virgil, till he has forgotten where and how he made their acquaintance? It is inhuman, and it should be felonious, to inflict upon a joyous boy this direful impressment; to compel the reluctant urchin to leave the sun and sky, the rustling leaf and nodding flower, the waving wood and the babbling brook, for the dungeon of a school-room; the Bastile, the Black Hole of letters, where he must fix his eyes upon strange characters that dance before them, while his thoughts are wandering where the winds are blowing and the birds are singing. It is a pleasure for a hypochondriac to see the dismissal of a school. There is a simultaneous shouting, and a dancing for joy. Whence arises it? There is no actual good before the poor children, that they should exultthere is only the negative, or the relief from the depres- sion of soul and spirits which comes from confinement and tasks, that may, indeed, be tolerable, but is always irksome. The very curs of a neighborhood sympathize in joy with the prisoners released; and Burnss Caesar was but a representative of his race, when he rejoiced so much in the gambols of the children. My heart has been so fain to see them, That I for joy has barkit wi em. It is a thousand pities that knowledge is not inherent in us like in- stinct, and that a boy should not have as much appetite for his lesson, as for his supper. Some philosophers, indeed, have blended the two principles, as in Scriblerus; and a few boys, like bookworms, have eaten their way to science; but these are favored beingspauci quos equns amavit Jupiter. This is traveling on a railway to. knowledge, with streamers waving from the car. But to study, before we can comprehend knowledge, to commit things to the memory, that cannot be held by the understanding, to struggle in the hedge, before we can 194 Some Recollections of a Village. see the garden on the other side, this is so great a price to pay for knowledge, that boys have but too much excuse for preferring ignorance. Yet, after a lapse of time, there is pleasure in the remembrance; we forget the struggles of reason against grammar, and the reluctance of the imagination to associate with the mathematics. We forget the lesson, the recitation, and the rod, and remember only our com- rades. Of a few, as Johnson says, thus presented to my mind, let me indulge the remembrance. The master, that tall and lank young man, that bent forward like a bow, is, after the lapse of twenty years, no less than Judge of Probate, and he has flocks enough to stock the pastures of a patriarch. He stoops in his gait no longer, for his honors and his mutton have made him so capacious in front, that he must of necessity throw his head and shoulders back, to balance the ponderous weight before. Doubtless Falstaff was as straight as a wand, if not so slender. He was so upright that be bent backwards, and c~ild not see his own knee. Even so it is with Judge Gobbleton: he tears a queue; and, though it hangs down as straight as a masons plumb, it touches neither back nor shoulder. Of the scholars, few have grown so great as the master, in per- son, honors or estate. The prettiest girl in the school, and she was truly a gentle spirit, is in that worst abode of misery,, the poor-house. Four years have of an angel made a demon. Her husband fell be- neath the subtle enemy, which it is the end of Temperance Societies to resist; but this is a common occurrence; were it not, society would rise as one man against the evil. Were some new poison to be intro- duced, as the Banque from the east, that would debase and extinguish the mind before it destroys the body, no penalty would be thought too severe for vending it; no precautions too great for obstructing the course of its ravages. But familiarity reduces our estimate of moral evils, as well as of personal dangers. So did it with the poor girl. There is none but one from the dead, who could describe the wrestling of her husband with his demon, before he lay down a quiet and unre- sisting victim. But both fell; though for a while she was a picture of care, and no means that tenderness could devise were omitted by the wife to reclaim the husband. By degrees she began to reconcile her- self to necessity, and, perhaps, to believe that what she so constantly saw in one well beloved, was less evil than it appeared before it had invaded the sanctuary of her home. Perhaps she was so shamed by the fall of him who should have protected her from evil thoughts, even as he would have kept his own eyes from Huberts irons, that despera- tion led her to the same precipice; but however it was, she is at this moment, (for this is no idle tale, or uncommon thing,) as much degrad- ed as intemperance and vice can make her. Another pride of the village has had better fortunes; she has not, indeed, escaped care, but she has avoided stain. It was the first time that I was fully sensible how much time had changed my own features, when I saw in hers, how the dimples were converted to wrinkles. But the eye ~vas bright, and the spirit unchanged. If, as Dante supposes, our form and features shall be moulded, in the higher world, from our affections here, and that the good will be beautiful, she will be of surpassing beauty. Some Recollections of a Village. 195 Of the boys, there were two who were cronies inseparable. They were seldom found over a book from choice, nor was it ever needful to move them to mischief by compulsion; they were always sufficiently inclined. When an unlawful act was committed, it was seldom unfair to impute it to one of these. Learning was not, of course, their favor- ite pursuit, and when the choice was presented to them between the rod and the book, they have sometimes manifested a preference for the rod. The art of printing was to them the most annoying of all arts, and to read was less tolerable than to work. Of these two comrades, one is in the Penitentiary for life, and the other commands as good a ship as ever passed the Cape of Good Hope. Love never made in Cimon such a transformation as resolution and labor have made in Captain F****. It was in his thirtieth year, that he determined to expend the hard earnings of several years of toil, at one of those schools with sounding names and small advantages, called academies. His utter ignorance made him the butt of the mere children of the school; but derision is a greater stimulus than praise. In one ye;lr he made advances little short of the progress of Gifford, when he left the school for the adventurous life of a sailor, which he commenced, as the phrase is, before the mast. In two years he was the commander of the good ship in which he first sailed, and there is no better seaman, and there are few more intelligent men. But he is entitled to higher com- mendation; his brothers, who were the vagabonds of the village, and of whom it was once unsafe to predict a good life or a natural death, he has animated with his own spirit, and of a family of seven, there is not one that has not become a new and respectable manor boy, for several are yet young. Few men know how much of good they can do in their own little circle; for there it must be done, or nowhere. Merit, as Johnson says of life, consists not in a series of illustrious actions and elegant enjoyments; but in the quiet performance of fa- miliar and daily duties, which confer little glory. It is easier to die like a hero, than to live like a Christian; and when honor shall be in- separable from merit, the hero will be the least esteemed. Men who have lived in a village, (as well as those who have not, but who look into their own hearts) well know that in a small community the same passions exist, which disturb the peace of nations. Perhaps the flame is more intense, because it is more concentrated, and because it has often no outlet. There is no passion that agitates the men who agitate the world, that hath not its throes also in a village. Plots, ~inductions dangerous, combinations and amalgamations, (according to the chemico-political phrase) are the usual means of gratifying the two predominant passions, ambition and envy. Perhaps, however, there is but one passion; and ambition, when it cannot exalt itself fastens up the skirts of others, that they, too, may not rise. These, however, are the foundations of all village politics, and in the operations of these small statesmen, private calumny ~upplies the want of a public press. It succeeds for a brief time, as far as to raise a cry and defeat an election, but the people of a village are too well ac- quainted with each other, and with themselves, to have their judge- ment swayed for any length of time, by so common a matter as a tale of slander. Popularity is, indeed, a fleeting thing; but so is its re- verse, and a man may be often much praised or abused at different 196 Some Recollections of a Village. times in a year, according to the state of parties. He may be a favor- ite because he is a freemason, or he may be denounced for the same reason; or his report among his peers may depend upon any similar and passing distinctions. It sometimes surprises a stranger, to hear two respectable villagers give a diametrically opposite account of a cit- izen; one will praise him, as it is safe to praise but few men, and another will revile him in the same proportion. These are consequen- ces of the personal considerations that are, in small com#nunities, mix- ed up with all general principles, or, at least, with all political, religious or other parties. This is the pest of a village ;another is an attempt at gentility, which is generally as awkward as a dancing cow. There is an aris- tocracy in a small village, but the plebeians have, generally, the better polish. They make no pretensions, and their easy civility is better than a stiff attempt at politeness. The daughters of the Clergyman, the Doctor, and the Merchant, (to give every man his title,) are not so graceful, so pretty, or so polite as the lasses of the farm. Their attrac- tions are in the inverse ratio of their pretensions. It is a great want in a village, and it is the cause of many evils, that there are few social meetings that bring the people frequently together. It is evident, that when twenty or thirty of them come together on the new year, and have a social supper at the tavern, that those who are slight friends, become familiar, and that the glow of good feeling thus raised, does not subside in a month. Why not have some meetings of the kind, so often that the feeling would never subside? It is hard to legislate upon social intercourse; yet if the villagers were compelled to meet each other once a week, they would be better satisfied both with themselves and their neighbors. One man with the tooth-ache, or with unquiet thoughts or depressed spirits, passes a neighbor, and he has a cloud upon his brow, which the other remarks, and a gloom comes over his own. Men who live without much intercourse, become suspicious; they will, indeed, forgive readily when they are certain that the for- riveness is recip~cal but few love another, whom they believe treas- ures aught of malice against themselves. If men could search each others hearts, there would be many feuds reconciled; for it is the belief that others do not love us, that checks our own benevolence. There is in a village no common place of meeting, but at the public fire-side of the inn. The high discourse held there includes all that is difficult in morals, religion, law and government. Much talking creates thirst, and thirst at an inn perpetuates itself. Men, therefore, who seek society at the taverns, sometimes give that in exchange for it, which is too precious to be considered an e{uivalent. 197 RICHARD SAVAGE. Tiiis is a very dark world; and now and then something occurs, which seems to be calculated to shake all our faith i~ historical testi- mony. No story seems to be better known, or to have called forth more compassion, than the life of Richard Savage. Born in London, the centre of intelligence; in the higher walks of life; himself a con- spicuous person, and living among wits and authors; his life written by Samuel Johnson, one of the most veracious witnesses ever known ;.- a man of keen discernment, and of the strictest moral integrity. What more could you ask for, to enable you to give credit to the story? And really, it is somewhat vexatious, after having felt our indignation kindle against the Countess of Macclesfield, as a most unnatural mother; and after having pitied her unfortunate and neglected son, to find that these events are mere chimeras; that the whole story is to be reversed; and that Richard Savage was an impostor; Dr. Johnson a dupe; and this unnatural mother an injured woman, who, though not wholly inno- cent, is much more sinned against than sinning; and, when she perse- cuted her helpless son, was only repelling a fraud, which reverses all our sympathies, and changes the whole scale of blame. Truly what are we coming to? It will turn out at last, perhaps, that Washington betrayed his country, and Arnold was the patriot. Indeed, I have some thought of writing the reversed history of the universe, in which I shall undertake to show, that Adam was not the first man; that Cain was killed by his murderous brother Abel; that, of all the women of antiquity, Massalina was most chaste; and, that the world for ages has been abused in its judgement, and has misplaced its sympathy in not bestowing it on that purest and gentlest of all human beings, Nero Claudius Ca~sar, who ruled the Romans in mercy, and delivered St. Paul from prison. An author is, indeed, a wonderful being. No sooner does a man take a pen in his hand than he seems to be endowed with a species of omnipotence; he can create and he can destroy; he can shape events to his wish; he can model the witnesses and the court just as he pleases; and, as to his conclusions, the more extravagant they are the easier it is to support them. I can only wish that, if our torpid palates must be stimulated with pepper, it might be raised on a little garden spot, con- secrated to fiction, and not spread over the whole farm, until we can raise nothing else for our daily food. What I mean is, if we must have something original, I wish it titay not be so original as to destroy all our confidence in the records of time, or the veracity of man. What think you of this plantaking Plutarchs lives and writing them back- wards; beginning at a mans death and pursuing the events of his life, until, most logically, we find him in his cradle? In this manner, you perceive, the foundation of history would not be shaken, and an air of novelty would be thrown over the whole. John Galt, Esq. has lately written the Lives of the Players; for the purpose, it seems, of introducing the life of Richard Savage, who was not a player; and all this for the purpose of contradicting Dr. Johnson, who, eighty-eight years ago, knew less about a cotemporary character than the said John Galt has discovered in 1831the second century after voL. ii. 26

G. G. Richard Savage Original Papers 197-202

197 RICHARD SAVAGE. Tiiis is a very dark world; and now and then something occurs, which seems to be calculated to shake all our faith i~ historical testi- mony. No story seems to be better known, or to have called forth more compassion, than the life of Richard Savage. Born in London, the centre of intelligence; in the higher walks of life; himself a con- spicuous person, and living among wits and authors; his life written by Samuel Johnson, one of the most veracious witnesses ever known ;.- a man of keen discernment, and of the strictest moral integrity. What more could you ask for, to enable you to give credit to the story? And really, it is somewhat vexatious, after having felt our indignation kindle against the Countess of Macclesfield, as a most unnatural mother; and after having pitied her unfortunate and neglected son, to find that these events are mere chimeras; that the whole story is to be reversed; and that Richard Savage was an impostor; Dr. Johnson a dupe; and this unnatural mother an injured woman, who, though not wholly inno- cent, is much more sinned against than sinning; and, when she perse- cuted her helpless son, was only repelling a fraud, which reverses all our sympathies, and changes the whole scale of blame. Truly what are we coming to? It will turn out at last, perhaps, that Washington betrayed his country, and Arnold was the patriot. Indeed, I have some thought of writing the reversed history of the universe, in which I shall undertake to show, that Adam was not the first man; that Cain was killed by his murderous brother Abel; that, of all the women of antiquity, Massalina was most chaste; and, that the world for ages has been abused in its judgement, and has misplaced its sympathy in not bestowing it on that purest and gentlest of all human beings, Nero Claudius Ca~sar, who ruled the Romans in mercy, and delivered St. Paul from prison. An author is, indeed, a wonderful being. No sooner does a man take a pen in his hand than he seems to be endowed with a species of omnipotence; he can create and he can destroy; he can shape events to his wish; he can model the witnesses and the court just as he pleases; and, as to his conclusions, the more extravagant they are the easier it is to support them. I can only wish that, if our torpid palates must be stimulated with pepper, it might be raised on a little garden spot, con- secrated to fiction, and not spread over the whole farm, until we can raise nothing else for our daily food. What I mean is, if we must have something original, I wish it titay not be so original as to destroy all our confidence in the records of time, or the veracity of man. What think you of this plantaking Plutarchs lives and writing them back- wards; beginning at a mans death and pursuing the events of his life, until, most logically, we find him in his cradle? In this manner, you perceive, the foundation of history would not be shaken, and an air of novelty would be thrown over the whole. John Galt, Esq. has lately written the Lives of the Players; for the purpose, it seems, of introducing the life of Richard Savage, who was not a player; and all this for the purpose of contradicting Dr. Johnson, who, eighty-eight years ago, knew less about a cotemporary character than the said John Galt has discovered in 1831the second century after voL. ii. 26 198 Richard Savage. Savage was born. So naturally does the evidence increase as the wit- nesses decay. It will be recollected by the readers of Johnson, that the Countess of Macclesfield had a son by Earl Rivers; in conse- quence of which she was divorced from her husband. This fact is enough to show that she was a profligate woman, and, therefore, it would be no unnatural combination of characters if she should also prove an Un- tender mother. This son she put out to nurse rather secretly, as is often done in such cases, and resolved not to own him. He was edu- cated in humble life, as many a noble bastard is in England. The mother married Col. Brett; and, probably, though not expecting to obliterate all memory of her former divorce, or the causes of it, yet she would not be very well pleased to have a living witness of her shame about her house, or in the company she frequented. Savage was put to learn the trade of a shoemaker; his nurse, who was his reputed mother, died; and, in taking possession of her papers, he found letters and other proofs of his real parentage which he had not known before. Feeling an ambition to rise from his low state, he resolved to write to his mother and claim the relationship. But she repelled him and con- stantly shunned his society; though it does not appear from any good testimony that she ever ventured to say that he was not her son. Now let me ask, what is there unnatural or incredible in all this? It seems to me one of the most probable stories ever told. It was natural that an illegitimate child should be put out to nurse; it was natural that his birth should be concealed from him; it was natural that his nurse should die and leave testimonials of his true birth; it was natural that her reputed son should take possession of her effects; that, when he found his true origin, he should seek his parent; and, above all, was it natural, that a profligate woman should be enraged and mortified, when she found that the child whom she supposed she had concealed forever, rose, like a troubled ghost, to revive a forgotten story and renew her shame. Here are nothing but the common springs of human conduct put in action; all parts of the story conspire in one probable result. The writer of this article is knowing to the case of an ingenious youth, who, under similar circumstances, made himself known to the guilty author of his being with a similar result. But this story seems entirely improbable to the histrionic biographer, who has dealt with actors so much that he seems entirely incompe- tent to judge of events off the stage. His theory isthat the real son of the countess died; the present Richard Savage was an impostor, the son of the nurse to whom the noble illegitimate was committed; and in this way one may account for the horror and aversion with which Mrs. Brett always regarded him. I would observe that this theory originated not with Mr. GaIt. It is suggested by Boswell in his Life of Johnson; although, (mark the progress of historical faith,) in a point oil which Mr. Boswell is very doubtful, Mr. Gait is very sure. Let us in the first place show that Mr. GaIts theory rests on very slender surmises; and, in the second place, that it is impeded with un- conquerable difficulties. It seems to Mr. Galt most natural to suppose that, when Earl Rivers on his death-bed inquired for his son, and was told by Mrs. Brett, his former paramour, (whether by letter or message it matters not,) that he was dead, it is more natural to believe that this story was true, Richard Savage. 199 than that a mother, without motive, should prevent a legacy, which she was not to gain herself:, from going to her son. Here was a gratuitous lie, told by a mother, not in defence of herself:, but in enmity to her son. But, with all due submission, it seems to me, she had one of the most natural motives in the world for telling this lie. She had resolved to bring up her son as a tradesman, in obscurity; the will of Earl Rivers, with the large legacy of six thousand pounds (for such was the sum mentioned by Johnson) must have entirely defeated her plan. It must have put new hopes into the head of her son. She was anxious to leave the event in oblivion, and here was an accident calculated to raise it from the dust, and set the whole story flying through the mouths of men. It is in vain to say here that the tale was recorded on the journal of the House of Lords; we all know how soon such records are overlooked and forgotten. As to alicentiouswomans scrupling such a lie, about her own son, it is certainly within the compass of human de- pravity. I strongly suspect that the British nobility are not a very deli- cate set of truth-tellers, especially in cases of this kind; and she, who had committed one great act of wickedness, might be capable of another. It is an illustration of what we have always been told by moralists, that great crimes are connected. Mr. Galt also thinks that the conduct of Earl Rivers is unnatural. He stood godfather for his sonand he wonders that he did not in- quire of the Lady Mason rather than .Mrs. Brett, concerning the child, since he was especially committed to her care. This is certainly very superficial. Such a man might easily ask for his son with the careless.. ness and levity of a man of pleasure, without any very earnest purpose of finding him. On his death bed his Lonscience might be more awake; in a word, the conduct of the trioLady Mason, Mrs. Brett, and Earl Rivers,which seems so unnatural to Mr. Galt, appears to me in perfect accordance with a voluptuous aristocracy; and I believe thousands have read Dr. Johnsons plain narrative without suspecting it had an air of fiction. Boswell mentions one or two other difficulties. He did not find the name of Savage on the parish register, where it was said by Savage himself to have been entered; and he found that the Countess of Mac- clesfield, instead of confessing her adultery, as Johnson related on Savages authority, made a strenuous defence before the House of Lords. Now, if we should grant that Savage was incorrect in some circumstances which must have happened before his memory, it would by no means invalidate his whole testimony.* These variations from fact could hardly have been intentional lies; for we can discern no motive for them; nor do we know with how much confidence Savage asserted these points, or on what evidence he supposed them to rest. * It appears that the omission of Savages name in the Register of St. Andrews parish, Holborn, is no proof of falsehood in the story he told of himself. Boswell was not careful in his search. There is a name on that register whL~h belongs to him. In anote to the Life of Johnson, by J. n., that is, the Rev. J. n. niakeivay, the difficulty is cleared up. Ann, Countess of Macclesfield, under the name of Madam SMITH, in Fox-court, near nolborn, was de~ivered of a male child, by Mrs. Wright, a midwife, on Saturday, the 16th of January, 1696-7, at 6 oclock in the morning, who was baptized on the Monday following, and registered by the name of RIcssAan, the son of John Smith, by Mr. liurbridge, assistant to Dr. Manningbams curate. The Lady wore a mask during the time of delivery, & c. This information comes from. crodence given on the trial of the Countess of Macclesfield. Conformable to this, Mr. n. found the entry in the Register January, 16967 RIcHAao, son of John Smith and Mary in Fox-Court in Georges-Inn-Lane, baptized the 18th. So luere is a confirmation instead of a confutation of Savages story. [See Boswells Life of Johnson, additional notes, 1st vol. London edition of 1821.] ~qo Richard Savage. But the most plausible difficulty is the story of the legacy left him by Mrs. Lloyd; which it seems difficult to conceive, it is said, that he should not have found means of obtaining if he had a legal title. If there was such a legacy left, says Boswell, his not being able to obtain payment of it, must be imputed to the consciousness that he was not the real person. The just inference should be, that by the death of Lady Macclesfields child before its godmother, the legacy became lapsed, and, therefore, that Johnsons Richard Savage was an impos- tor.* I am not enough acquainted with English jurisprudence to know whether it is or is not impossible for a poor man to prosecute his right; but I have a notion that some money is as necessary to enter the temple of the British Themis as the golden branch was to .tEneas, in going down to the infernal regions. Hoc sihi ~u1chra saum fern Proserpina munus Instituit There might have been many reasons to deter a poor wretch from con- tending in law with a powerful family. Now let us turn to the other side of the questionthe difficulties with which this theory is impeded. Let us grant for a moment that Johnson was a simpleton; and that Mr. GaIt, with his spectacles on, can look through a whole century better than Savages biographer can see things before his own eyes. What shall we say of Pope, who, without the least hesitation, pro- nounces Savage to be the son of Earl Rivers ? t What shall we say of Sir Richard Steele, of Aaron Hill, of Mr. Wilks, of Mrs. Old- fieldindeed of all the wits and writers of that age, who seem, without the least hesitation, to have received his story as true 1 Is it not in- credible, also, that the family should have heard this story repeated, and not once have stepped forward to contradict it? Some of Mr. Gaits reasoning is absolutely unintelligible. For example, he mentions that Mrs. Brett was the wife of the Patentee of Drury Lane Theatre; a theatre which Savage frequented, and was well acquainted with its act- ors. Be it so. What possible purpose can this fact subserve in sup porting Mr. Galts theory? It only makes it more astonishing that Say- age should tell his story and gain credit among the actors of that thea- tre, when the wife of the Patentee might certainly have had the means of confuting him if his story was false. In a word, it seems to me to be a story which having produced conviction among all the discerning men of that age, and having passed for more than half a century unquestioned, it is now too late to contradict, without some very pos- itive testimony. It cannot certainly be overthrown on any reasoning from human prohabilities. It is possible, it is true, as father Harduin has suggested, that the real works of Cicero may have been lost, and the present writings which go under his name, may have been forged by the monks of the middle ages. But as these books bear the best image of Cicero we have seen, we must continue to receive them as such, and suffer the still more brilliant volumes to rest in oblivion. In both cases, we are satisfied with the deception. There is one other fact mentioned by Boswell, which is worthy of notice. Lord Tyrconnel, who was the nephew of Mrs. Brett, it seems to be conceded, took Savage into his house, and allowed him a pension * Boswelis Life of Johnson, Voi. i. p. 134. Ed. 1821, London. t He is so called in some of the papers or notes connected with the Dunciad. Richard Savage. 201 of two hundred pounds a year, on condition of his not wiiting against his mother. Now did he, or did he not, suppose him to be an impos- tor? If he did, he certainly took the readiest way to lay his aunt open to the constant, shafts of a shameless vagabond. It is not common thus to bribe silence to a tale which is false. This is a circumstance to which Mr. Galt makes no allusion; he does not even attempt to explain Lord Tyrconnels motives. There are certain laws of probability which we must apply in judg.. ing of human things; and, if they deceive us in single instances, there is no remedy. It would be one of the strongest instances from which to plead the cause of historical skepticism, that we can imagine, if we could be persuaded that this biography is false. It is not a complex political concern; it is not a battle; but a domestic event. It happen- ed in an enlightened age, and in the centre of information. It is re- corded by Johnson; an author, scrupulous to exactness in h~s regard to truth. Now, if all these events have deceived us, what shall we say? Verily we must burn the volumes of history, and, from the consuming blaze, derive our only light. Johnson was a peculiar man; with great mental powers, with much more talent than what would be called genius, he never produced a work which can be considered up to the level of his mind. His writ- ings are like an aqueduct which remits the water much lower than its original source; much lower than it has power to rise. The reason was, his great indolence. He was too lazy to bring all his powers into action. A learned man he certainly was not, though he had the good fortune to persuade the literary quacks, by whom he was sur- rounded, that he knew whatever was worth knowing. He himself con- fessed, that the foundation of all his learning was laid at the grammar school; and the confession was true. He was perfect in his Latin Grammar; and in the quantities of Latin verse. But the Greek writ- ers, the Latin Historians, Church History, he was very superficial in. He gained knowledge easily, and he remembered it long; and perhaps no man ever acquired so much, who was so averse to labor. I have often thought that he would have written a most excellent his- tory of the English nation, if he could have had some assistants at his elbow, to have looked out his authorities. His bigotry and his preju- dice would have been no abatement to its truth or faithfulness. We should always have seen the prospect through the same colored glass, and should have known what allowance to make. The readers of his book would have always been sailing through the same current, and would have known how to allow for lee-way. As for Savage, his story is much more interesting than any thing he ever wrote. His poetry is rough, unmusical, the most mechanical per- formance of that mechanical age. Hti is often called the unfortunate Richard Savage, but certainly there ir very little propriety in the term; for, in the direct road to misery, he stumbled upon as much hap- piness as such a mind as his could possibly expect. He was one of those beings whom it is impossible to make happy. With strong passions, and no control over them, extravagant, dissipated, and headstrong, deeming himself born to be supported by others, and making no provision for himself,eccentric and brutal; a drunkard and a cut-throathe seems to have pulled his own miseries upon 202 The Destroyers. himself, and to have been a fearful monument of the divine dis- pleasure. It is a question whether any pension would have been enough to support him; whether he would not have speedily found means to dissipate the most abundant estate. Indeed, it is not un- likely that he might owe some of the reputation of his genius to his vices; the world is so prone to admire a disproportionate character, and to misprize the harmonious workmanship, when all the parts are of a piece, that a mixed mind is often estimated beyond its worth. The sparks of genius, which are sometimes found in very unwise and wicked men, are like blossoms on autumnal trees; beautiful and mag. nified, because they are out of season; and each duster stauds almost alone. ThE DESTROYERS. Sow thick thy flowerets, gentle Spring l The soil is ghastly bare, And pour from every balmy leaf Thy sweetness on the air; Ay, wrap the hills and vales in green, Waste all thy perfumed breath, The mould is black with crumbling shapes, The winds are damp with death. Soft as a kiss on ladys cheek, The ripples touch the shore; Tomorrow, and the strangling shriek Shall swell the billows roar. And many an eye that maiden loves, The rolling wave shall close, And lips that children weep to hear, Lie sealed in long repose. The scorching sunbeam sears the field That gleamed with Autumns gold, And dying mothers bare their breasts To babes whose lips are cold. By night the livid Plague went by, Scarce was a leaflet stirred Whence came that lone and smothered cry? Why screams the carrion bird? And, thou, the parent and the tomb, That rocks and shrouds us all Whose bosom warms our growing limbs And veils them when they fall, Beneath the boundhig foot of life Heaves up thy 1~irsting soil, And Pleasures wreath is rank and green, ~lorged with thy loathsome spoil. The eagle sits upon his cliff, And watches for the dead; The worm is coiled beneath the sod, The slumberers dreamless bed; The shark is swimming in the wake None, none shall lose his claim; Four hands have spread the banquet board Earth, Ocean, Air, and Flame! 0. W. H.

O. W. H. H., O. W. The Destroyers Original Papers 202-203

202 The Destroyers. himself, and to have been a fearful monument of the divine dis- pleasure. It is a question whether any pension would have been enough to support him; whether he would not have speedily found means to dissipate the most abundant estate. Indeed, it is not un- likely that he might owe some of the reputation of his genius to his vices; the world is so prone to admire a disproportionate character, and to misprize the harmonious workmanship, when all the parts are of a piece, that a mixed mind is often estimated beyond its worth. The sparks of genius, which are sometimes found in very unwise and wicked men, are like blossoms on autumnal trees; beautiful and mag. nified, because they are out of season; and each duster stauds almost alone. ThE DESTROYERS. Sow thick thy flowerets, gentle Spring l The soil is ghastly bare, And pour from every balmy leaf Thy sweetness on the air; Ay, wrap the hills and vales in green, Waste all thy perfumed breath, The mould is black with crumbling shapes, The winds are damp with death. Soft as a kiss on ladys cheek, The ripples touch the shore; Tomorrow, and the strangling shriek Shall swell the billows roar. And many an eye that maiden loves, The rolling wave shall close, And lips that children weep to hear, Lie sealed in long repose. The scorching sunbeam sears the field That gleamed with Autumns gold, And dying mothers bare their breasts To babes whose lips are cold. By night the livid Plague went by, Scarce was a leaflet stirred Whence came that lone and smothered cry? Why screams the carrion bird? And, thou, the parent and the tomb, That rocks and shrouds us all Whose bosom warms our growing limbs And veils them when they fall, Beneath the boundhig foot of life Heaves up thy 1~irsting soil, And Pleasures wreath is rank and green, ~lorged with thy loathsome spoil. The eagle sits upon his cliff, And watches for the dead; The worm is coiled beneath the sod, The slumberers dreamless bed; The shark is swimming in the wake None, none shall lose his claim; Four hands have spread the banquet board Earth, Ocean, Air, and Flame! 0. W. H. 203 MY EVIL GENIUS. OTHER mens evil genius may be the inhabitant of their own bosoms; a lurking propensity within the dark and secret tabernacle of their hearts ;such~ creature as Dr. Ware defines the Devil of our sacred Scriptures, the evil principle person~fled ; but my Evil Genius has been a living, substantial, tangible, though mysterious creature; a being of talents and passions truly diabolic, who has been for years haunting my footsteps along the path of life, manifesting him- self to me bodily at all the crises of my existence, yet always eluding my knowledge and search when his errand was done. It seems incredible to myself, as I walk out under the bright sunlight, amongst the throng of smiling and busy faces, and see how every one of our crowds is known to others, and connected by a thousand ties with oth- ers around him ;it seems most strange that there can be, unknown to them all, dissevered from them all, a being of bright intellects,of glowing eloquence and giant powers of persuasion ;one fit to rule and govern, though with deadly influence ;one interested at least in me, and crossing my path, and at times binding me with the strongest spell, and yet the world be all unconscious, unheeding of his exist- ence. The noise and dust and confusion of our money-getting age, seem to have almost banished romance from real life ;yet amidst all the turmoil of business,in the matter of fact contest for wealth which engrosses so much the million, there is now and then an incident, and now and then a character, which remind us of the twilight period of human history,of the ages of secret and perilous adventure, of mysterious and hidden lore, of magic influences, and heart-moving romance; of the age of the Croix Sanglante, the Alchemyst and the Astrologer, of the Seer and Magian, of the Trouver and Troubadour. Such a character, and so calculated to revive the dusty recollections of black-letter times, is my Evil Genius; and thus at variance with the dull though noisy monotony of modern life, are the incidents in which he figures as the conspicuous actor. It was on one of those summer evenings which our vapory climate now and then affords, to dazzle and bewilder the emulative artist with its gorgeousness of hues and splendor of design; the sun had gone down amidst a congregated host of cloudy banners, which blazed, beyond hope of imitation, with his reflected glories, and the day had died, like the dolphin, in an alternation and succession of tints, on which the eye rested with sickening excess of pleasure ;I had come forth from my dull college room, exhausted with confinement, and lan- guid from long inaction, into the free air and exciting breezes of the open heavens; the contrast was too great for my wearied mind, and my heart revolted at the recollection of what I had been sacrificing, and for what; at the thought that L was throwing away the splendid volume and the exciting study of nature, for the dusty tome and dis- gusting study of human wisdom ;the product of minds blinded by passion, warped by prejudice, and fettered by ignorance; the vast, the glorious and the free, for the narrow, and dull, and thought-fettering. I was in a fit mood to spurn at the collected wisdom of my race, and make myself my idol. It was as if long and incumbent mental appli

Noel Noel My Evil Genius Original Papers 203-210

203 MY EVIL GENIUS. OTHER mens evil genius may be the inhabitant of their own bosoms; a lurking propensity within the dark and secret tabernacle of their hearts ;such~ creature as Dr. Ware defines the Devil of our sacred Scriptures, the evil principle person~fled ; but my Evil Genius has been a living, substantial, tangible, though mysterious creature; a being of talents and passions truly diabolic, who has been for years haunting my footsteps along the path of life, manifesting him- self to me bodily at all the crises of my existence, yet always eluding my knowledge and search when his errand was done. It seems incredible to myself, as I walk out under the bright sunlight, amongst the throng of smiling and busy faces, and see how every one of our crowds is known to others, and connected by a thousand ties with oth- ers around him ;it seems most strange that there can be, unknown to them all, dissevered from them all, a being of bright intellects,of glowing eloquence and giant powers of persuasion ;one fit to rule and govern, though with deadly influence ;one interested at least in me, and crossing my path, and at times binding me with the strongest spell, and yet the world be all unconscious, unheeding of his exist- ence. The noise and dust and confusion of our money-getting age, seem to have almost banished romance from real life ;yet amidst all the turmoil of business,in the matter of fact contest for wealth which engrosses so much the million, there is now and then an incident, and now and then a character, which remind us of the twilight period of human history,of the ages of secret and perilous adventure, of mysterious and hidden lore, of magic influences, and heart-moving romance; of the age of the Croix Sanglante, the Alchemyst and the Astrologer, of the Seer and Magian, of the Trouver and Troubadour. Such a character, and so calculated to revive the dusty recollections of black-letter times, is my Evil Genius; and thus at variance with the dull though noisy monotony of modern life, are the incidents in which he figures as the conspicuous actor. It was on one of those summer evenings which our vapory climate now and then affords, to dazzle and bewilder the emulative artist with its gorgeousness of hues and splendor of design; the sun had gone down amidst a congregated host of cloudy banners, which blazed, beyond hope of imitation, with his reflected glories, and the day had died, like the dolphin, in an alternation and succession of tints, on which the eye rested with sickening excess of pleasure ;I had come forth from my dull college room, exhausted with confinement, and lan- guid from long inaction, into the free air and exciting breezes of the open heavens; the contrast was too great for my wearied mind, and my heart revolted at the recollection of what I had been sacrificing, and for what; at the thought that L was throwing away the splendid volume and the exciting study of nature, for the dusty tome and dis- gusting study of human wisdom ;the product of minds blinded by passion, warped by prejudice, and fettered by ignorance; the vast, the glorious and the free, for the narrow, and dull, and thought-fettering. I was in a fit mood to spurn at the collected wisdom of my race, and make myself my idol. It was as if long and incumbent mental appli 204 My Evil Genius. cation had exhausted within me the divine spark,had used up the intellectual,and left nothing but the animal part of my nature to lord it over me. While I leaned against the trunk of an aged pine, gazing on the evanescent beauties of the sunset, and revolving these thoughts hehe,my Evil Genius, stood beside me, and though I had never before seen him, I felt that he was familiar to me-~--.and that he was to be. I can, even now, often as I have seen him since, doubt the tale of my senses, and laugh at myself for being so credulous, so superstitious as to fancy that he is any thing to me, or to feel such strange emotions in his presence. But it is truth in spite of my doubt ;reality in spite of my sneers. He stood therea man of less than middle stat- ureremarkable for nothing save perfect elegance of figure and man- ner. Is it not splendid, said he, sweeping his arm along the line of the western horizon, is it not a spectacle on which man could gaze forever? And does not the bosom swell to behold it! In vain would art labor to imitate the slighest of those beauties which nature so carelessly, with so much prodigality, heaps together for her own amusement, and the pleasure of those who are wise enough to observe, those who will not turn away from the glorious pageantry, to the mean and narrow and cramping employment which fools have continued to fetter themselves withal, and shackle the crowd around them. Who would turn away from these scenes of light, and life, and liberty,of bounding pulse stimulated by free breezes, and countless splendors, and natural pleasures, of wide-sweeping thought, and unchained imag- ihings, to the dull, deadening, and slavish labor and studies of the closet, to the heavy and sleepy atmosphere of books; to the wearing arid heart-breaking cares and anxieties of busy life; who would make him- self the helot of his race, and be sacrificed for others when he might Jive for himself? You have youth and health and beauty; you have proud and free thoughts; you have goldand the wide world of beauty and pleasure before you; and will you go back to thankless, unnoticed, health-destroying study ;to sacrifice yoursel~f in search after what is not ~vorth the finding ;in labor for a scornful race who will spurn you and your acquisitions; for fame which comes not till death has made dumb the ear which never hears the pleasant story, and for the wreath which but decorates the pall while the brow is all cold and ungarlanded beneath ! Such was his first address to me, and it flowed awhile into my charm- ed ear like the echo of a pleasant song. But as he went on tempting me from the path of intellectual effort and patient study, in which 1 had long fortified myself, my mind resumed its tonerising to the challenge, as the war-horse rouses at the trumpets clangor; so that ere he was ready to pause, I replied And what though fame come not to the living? What though the world be ungrateful or scornful? What though the lessons of recorded wisdom must be learned with much toil and wearing labor? Fame is a bubble, when compared with self-respect; the worlds scorn cannot chill the benevolent heart in its labors of kindness; and the wisdom, whose price is time and painful study, is cheaply purchased; for it pours enduring pleasures. into the soul ;prepares it for communion with Him, the Author of all wisdom; and makes our own bosoms an exhaustless mine of intellectual treas- ure, which time wastes not and which fails us not till death. I have My Evil Genius. 205 gold. But I have mind too, and while gold is the minister of my intellectual wants, I shall prize it. What would it be worth, if it but pampered the desires, which, animal in their nature, are at war with the mind,with health, and with moral satisfaction? I know that the glories of nature are objects on which we can gaze with extacy; the breath of the free wild breeze is delicious; and the volume of Gods material works can always be studied with delight. But loose the intellect from its habits of study,throw mental application to the winds,and riot in the lazy luxury of contemplation alone, and the charm of all is lost. The golden pavilions of sunset lose their brill iancy; nature becomes an unexciting blank; the rapture of the es- caped student, fades into the listless look of the sluggard, and the spell which summoned up joy and enthusiasm is forgotten. But he who comes from the treasured knowledge of the past, to gaze upon the splendors of the present It was exactly there in my rhapsody that I turned round to observe how my reply was operating on him, but he was not there. It was his first appearance and disappearance, and of course my surprise was great. Where had he gone? Could he have sunk into the hill-side? or had he in the twilight concealed himself in that thicket? At all events he had gone, and so I turned on my heel, perplexed, and some- what vexed, moreover, and took refuge from my unpleasant meditations in books. I had been with one of my classmates to the services in Grace church on the evening of one of the festivals. We had found seats in a dimly lighted corner of the building, where we hoped to be undis- turbed by intruders. But after being alone for a few minutes we were joined by one of our town acquaintances and a bevy of merry girls, his sisters and cousins. I do not pretend to have heard much of the sermon, for as I sat by the side of one of the cousins, and as she was extremely beautiful and very frolicksome, the thing was impossible. She was a perfect witch in her person and manners, and the whole evening was to me a bewildering dream. I was then too young and raw to take offence at the fun and freedom of a miss of eighteen. But when, on parting, she threw her arms about my neck, and kissed me, I did feel very oddly; my trance was at an end, and disgust fol- lowed delight. I have no doubt I vented my feelings in words, for the next moment some one at my side laughed so sneeringly. It was he again. Ha! ha! ha! thou paragon of beaux ! said he, as he joined me and slipped his arm through my own. But pardon me for my laugh, for I wish to have a cool argument with you. Why were you so annoyed by the salutation of that pretty pair of corals? Is there poison in female lips ? N~o~. But she had first violated the sacred- ness of worship,that I felt; and then for her to transgress the most imperative law of propriety,it was too much. Besides, I had joined her in the first offence, and was vexed to feel more than half inclined to exceed her in the second. Are you not sinning against natural ~ truth, by these practices of self-restraint? Let me ask you in the most friendly manner; for in your destiny I am most deeply inter- ested ;are you not warring against law that is woven into your very frame? Has not nature told you her intentions in language too plain voL. ii. 27 206 My Evil Genius. to be doubted ;in the language of impulses, inclinations, and burning wishes? Does not her will boil in your blood, and tremble in every nerve, and glow in every emotion? And who are you, to sit in judge- ment on her, and pronounce her wrong? What are you, who thus proudly scorn her, even at the price of self-denial, and self-torture,nay, of others sorrow and regret? Did not the voice of nature urge you to return the kiss? did not your will incline to it? and did you not grieve her by your disdain ? I was but a boy of nineteen, and is it strange that his sophistry dis- turbed me? It was what I would have believed if I could; I had often endeavored to make it my creed, and perhaps my principles would have fallen before his attack, had not my mind been imbued with the lessons which parental lips had taught so faithfully, that now, in the hour of temptation, habit could supply the deficiency of judge- ment. I attempted to reply, however, and gained firmness as I spoke. I might tell you, said I, that the law of our natures is to be sub- jected to the law of God; but lest you should venture to blaspheme that, I will reply from nature herself. If impulse pushes me towards gratification, there is in my character some principle, call it what you will, which tells me whether I ought to obey the impulse. So as I con- sult my own interest and happiness, and have seen that when I obey the impulse contrary to the dictate of the other principle, the pleasure is short, and my mental ease interrupted, and that, when I yield to the principle and resist the impulse, the pain of self-denial is short, and the approval of my conscience permanent and abiding; of course, regard to my own comfort will teach me to rebel against what you call the law of nature. Illustrious sage, said he, in the tone of irony, may you never re- alise the prediction of Richard so wise, so young, they say do never live long. And so saying he turned back, and walked rapidly away. Often afterwards did he meet me, at times when the strength of my principles was severely tested by the circumstances in which I was placed; and madifold were hi~ modes of attack, and his devices to drive or seduce me from the path of duty. I will not now enumerate thembut, after naming some few others, leave him and them without farther remark. I had, as he once told me, gold; but it took to itself wings. Fire and the bankruptcy of my insurers, together with the knavery of some other factors, reduced me to extreme narrowness of income; so that I, who had never wanted any thing but mastery over the future, was obliged to sell what I valued more than all else, my choice collection of books, and specimens in natural science, and apparatus; and to graduate with almost nothing but my intellectual acquisitions. My parents were dead; I was an only child, and, as they had emigrated from Europe, I was almost literally alone in this new world. The wide dull world was before me; and so little of sunshine or beauty was there in the prospect, that Hope sickened as she flew across it, and rested not her wing, till she reached the grave. Oh, how my heart sunk, as, the night after my graduation, I stole away from the merry ~ meeting of my classmates at their last convivial party, and sought that old pine tree, whose shade, by noon or night, was my favorite haunt, and there, under a black and scowling heavens, looked forward to long Jiffy Evil Genius. 207 years of want, or dependence, or labors so unceasing, that the mind must be their sacrifice. I hoped to meet himwhose recent kindness and frequent visits had obliterated the thought of his evil principles him, whom two years before, 1 had first seen on that same spot. Nor did he disappoint me. He came, and his gentle voice soothed the as- perity of my feelings, while his words but barbed the arrow that was vibrating in my heart. Your entrance into the free world of action is made on a day of storms, and under circumstances of deep sadness, my young friend. The years you have spent in effort for the display of to-day,how small their effect! how poor their result! Not thou- sands nor scarcely hundreds thronged to hear your graduating elo.. 4uence; clouds and vapors canopy the heavens; there are no lights in the expanse above us; and so dense is the evening mist, that your noisy town sheds not on us a single ray from its thousand lamps. The gold which gave you the means of intellectual gratification, and which reflected splendor on the talent and acquirements of its possessor, has gone to the treacherous elements, or been snatched from you by the more treacherous agents whom you trusted; your sun-shiny friends look as dull on you as the day on which you part from them; they miss not your laugh in the hall of their banquet; your hope of the future Prophet of evil thou needest not be, replied I, goaded into anger by his recital of my miseries, though thou art the croaker of present misfortunes. It is enough for me to paint in the dark colors of my own imagination the void before me. I speak not of future evil. I speak of your prospects. You are intending to engage in that profession which thrives on the crimes of society ;you have, and his voice was most keenly ironical, thick- crowded friends who will help you up the steep ascent that leads from poverty to competency; from unknown insignificance, to eminence; from the dark valley where you are either disregarded or trampled upon, to the summit, whose atmosphere is the chill breath of envy, malice and hatred,or the volcanic vapors of anger and revenge. You are loved, no doubt, by many, who will rejoice to smile on youat a dis- tance; whose hearts will be open to your advances, when it is for their own interest; and who will exult in your success when it brings golden showers on themselves. Do you not delight to contemplate the splen- dors of your coming destiny, and the loveliness of your future path ? My hopes or my fears are in my own bosom. I care not for the past; I care not for the future. I have none to love, and none to live for, who love me. Why should I live ? I asked the question without suspicion that his purpose was to goad me on to self-destruction; but the tone of his reply aroused me to a full perception of his design. Why should you live ? Because you dare not do otherwise? Why should you live? to bear the neglect or abuse of the rascals around you; to be the stock of laugh and sneer and insult; to be cheated by those whom you love; to grow more and more like the beasts with whom you must labor; to be heart-frozen by the cold ele- ment of the world, and die slowly through scores of years. Why should you live? Because you are not Roman enough to die. How strangely did those words affect me! I had followed the dark 208 JIy Evil Geujus. windings of my gloomy thoughts until they led me to the verge of sui- cide, and I stood looking with calmness at the black gulf before me, meditatingnot the consequences of my leap into it, but the leap itself. But when he joined me there, and pointed down into the abyss where I had been gazing, and urged my already upraised step,the spell was broken; I was no longer alone; my mind swept forward to the world beyond, and as he poured his poison into my ear, the before forgotten influence of healthful principles returned upon me; I felt myself revolting from the deed at which I had so nearly arrived, and braced up to despise the cowardice which had made me tremble at life; and to resist the temptation. It was as if in dim twilight and dreamingly I had wandered to the precipice over which I could scarce stretch my sleepy vision, and whose dangers I thought not of; until the thunderbolt had roused me to wakefulness, and the glare of its flash revealed the full and tremendous peril of my position. I will live because it is the part of a coward to shrink in the hour of trial; because it is the part of manhood to contend bravely against and triumph over difficulty, and there is proud satisfaction in the vic- tory; because the life I have is given, and must be taken by another and not myself; because the ~vorld shall feel that I have yet the power of doing good; because the gre at Lawgiver has said, thou shalt not kill. Live on then ! said he, till you have outlived the existence of all your hopes, of all your faculties, of all that renders life tolerable, and then Them let me diebut not till then. From that time I dreaded his appearance, as the messenger of evil; and in every hour of temptation or trial, trembled lest he might stand at my side and overcome my powers of resistance. 1 continued, after an interval which I will not mentionmy studies in this city, having but exchanged the exact sciences and the literature of the col- lege, for the scier~ce on which is built the noblest of all professions the science of jurisprudence. The knowledge that I must depend entirely on my own efforts for professional success, and the strong de- termination to rise in whatever sphere I might be placed, made me in- dustrious, and three years passed quietly over me. After entering the Bar, I was not entirely destitute of business, but did, notwithstanding spend considerable tirnein waiting for clients. I knew, however, that opportunity alone was wanting to make myself known, and after that I had no fear. Meanwhile sundry acquaintances, of both sexes, whose intelligence and agreeable qualities of various kinds I appreciated, demanded of me now and then an evening. There was one little circle, in particu- lar, in which I loved to visit; so quiet and domestic and social was it. One of the favorite family was several years my junior, with a most re- markable spirit of inquiry after knowledge, a loveliness of disposition, and a pshaw! I loved her, and that was enough. With her, what long moon-light rambles I made, and with what unchained free- dom of hope did I look forward~ to a life of happiness! Ilaving ~ always considered the social affections, next to religion, the purest source of happiness, and having now found one on whom my affections M~y Evil Genius. 209 could centre, and would centre, there seemed given me a definite object of efforta distinct purpose to accomplish, which was the aim of my every action, and which my conscience united with my choice in approving. Youth is said to be the reign of love, and middle life the age of ambition; but in my own case, the two principles were so interwoven, that they could not be analyzed, and I was governed con- jointly by the tyrants of the two different pes.iods of life. I had been out under the balmy influences of a summer twilight and evening, with my young friend, and was returning slowly homeward with her, along the Beacon Mall, when, just as I had concluded painting a very pretty airy castle, in which she was the conspicuous figure, a fbrm stepped suddenly from behind one of the trees, and, as it hurried by us, uttered, in a voice familiar and terrible to my ear, the simple word Fool! We both started at the suddenness of the occurrence, and both laughed heartily, (for even then I could so far rein in my emotions as to make alarm assume the shape of amusement) at its sin- gularity. I dreaded parting from her that night, for I knew that he would meet me on my return, and that one emphatic monosyllable had taught me what to expect from him. However, bracing myself up to the task, and entrenching myself in strength of purpose and principle, I left herand met him. I called you fool, and are you not such? With the steep hill of your profession to climb; which friends and fortune are absolutely necessary to make smooth, and which, with their aid, under common circumstances is nearly inaccessible, why have you fettered yourself with an engagement that makes your progress towards success doubly difficult? Why have you chained yourself down to the sphere in which you now move, instead of awaiting the time when you could choose from the highest circles of rank and wealth ? Your pre- mises, replied I, are false. Success in my profession must come not from undeserved friendshipbut from my own efforts and merit. If I have talent, I shall succeed at all events; if I have not, not all the friends in the universe could give me that success which I covet. If my path toward fortune be somewhat lengthened, by my attachment to one who has every thing but that to admire, it is most surely made more delightful ;nay, the final attainment, by honorable means, of fortune, is more certain ;for, as results correspond to greatness of efforts, and effort is measured by motive,the stronger and pleasanter the motives, the stronger, more persevering and more successful will be the exertions. Argued like a lover. But if your ambition tower as high as for- merly, you will need immense fortune to bear you onward; and the time which you have to spend in the accomplishment of subsidiary ob- jects, if there be a means of saving it, is time thrown away; is so much subtracted from the probability of ultimate success. Your tal- ents will enable you to command in matrimonial alliance the fortune which you need to reach your final object of aspiration. Leave then the boyish admiration of beauty,the childish sentiment which sacri- fices the substance for the shadows of life; be manly in action, shrewd and cool and calculating in principle and practice; take every meas- ure to aid you forward in the bright and ascending path of your ambi- tion; act, in short, like yourself Do not let the inflamed imagination 210 Rare Beasts. which builds its castles on the inspirations of a fortuneless girl, lead you to self-sacrifice; but tear yourself from the siren who fascinates, and go forward boldly to success and eminence 1 And leave my path strewed with the wreck of innocent and con- fiding affection; decorated with violated principles and broken hearts; while I am propelled by the remembrance of the misery I have caused, and the vengeance which slumbers awhile for me in the retributions of Providence! No! thank Heavea, my ambition is the ambition of social enjoyment; of producing happiness; of doing good; of making my fellow men rejoice that I am their brother; of a clear conscience. Thank Heaven, I have mind enough to appreciate the beauties of in- tellect, though ungilded by fortune; and heart enough to love moral excellence, though it shine not in wealth; and principle enough to make me adhere to the one whose affections I have sought and found; and whom, in joy or in sorrow, in calamity or good fortune, in youth or age, I know will be constant and true. He detained me no longer in argument than to find me immoveably resolved on pursuing the course I had chosen, and then left me for the time. Again and again have I met himbut never under circum- stances which gave me the least hope of discovering his real motives for thus persecuting me, or the secret of his power over my feelings. Should this meet his eye, he may laugh at the tortures which I confess he has inflicted; but let him also read my defiance of his extremest malice. NOEL. RARE BEASTS. Is it possible that no one in these parts has seen a Gopher? I have seen a thousand; and some other animals, too, that are not to be found in New-England; not even in Greenwoods Museum. I cannot bring them to you, reader, and, therefore, I must een carry you, in imagination, to them. Suppose yourself mounted on a good horse, and riding at my side, somewhere between the Mississippi and the Missouri, in about forty-four degrees, with a good rifle in your hand. T is but Fancys sketch. Let us ascend that hillock and look abroad upon the prairie. Did you think there was so much beef in the world? The land is alive with the creatures that naturalists call Bisons, but which we hunters call Buffaloes. There are, at least, twenty thousand in that .herd. Hark, what a thundering noise they make! They do not bellZ* so in other seasons, but this is their May. Look at that noble bull approaching. We have disturbed him, and he comes to reconnoitre. Fear not, he will not attack us; at any other time he would have made his escape at once. His beard might shame a Janizary; his head would be a treasure to a periwig-maker; the hair is so thick that you see no part of his physiognomy but his nose, his eyes, and the tips of his short, strong, black horns. Satan could not look more savage. Your horse trembles, and so should I, if I did not know the nature of the beast. Give him a shot. .Ah, block-

Rare Beasts Original Papers 210-217

210 Rare Beasts. which builds its castles on the inspirations of a fortuneless girl, lead you to self-sacrifice; but tear yourself from the siren who fascinates, and go forward boldly to success and eminence 1 And leave my path strewed with the wreck of innocent and con- fiding affection; decorated with violated principles and broken hearts; while I am propelled by the remembrance of the misery I have caused, and the vengeance which slumbers awhile for me in the retributions of Providence! No! thank Heavea, my ambition is the ambition of social enjoyment; of producing happiness; of doing good; of making my fellow men rejoice that I am their brother; of a clear conscience. Thank Heaven, I have mind enough to appreciate the beauties of in- tellect, though ungilded by fortune; and heart enough to love moral excellence, though it shine not in wealth; and principle enough to make me a