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NORTH-AMERICAN REVIEW 



AND 



»< 



3ITSCELLANE0US JOURNAL. 



VOLUME SECOND. 



BOSTON : 

I'RINTKD AND FURLI3HRD RT WELL.' .\ND I.1II.», 

Couit-Street. 



1816. 






- T '•■ l"* \..i 



ill. 






A /7/ -^ ^. 



CONTENTS OP VOLUME SECOND. 



MISCELLANY. 



Page. 
A.DAMS, President, Letter to 

Dr. Price 4. 1g6 

Address to the Pbi Beta Kap- 
pa Society ------- 4^ 

Archbishop of Mechlin - - - 176 
Agricultural Society of Con- 
necticut --------- 136 

American Settlements on the 

North- West Coast - - - - 301 

Astronomical Instruments - - 432 

Arts, Fine 180 

Babylon, Ruins of 183 

Bibliography --------- 46 

Biographic Moderne ----- ,'50 

Books Relating to America - 1 

do. do. - 145 

do. do. - 289 

Books Recently Imported - - 137 

Books Recently Published - 137 

do. do. - 283 

Bowdoin College ------ 433 

Bridlington Spring ------ 139 

Caricatures, French ----- 174 

Correspondents, Notice to - 144 
do. do. - 288 

do. do. - 436 

Ellis. George, Esq. Character 

of, 172 

Galvanick Battery - i:W 

Great Britain, Expenditure of 186 
General Poilier -------171 

Hamilton's Sermon ----- 186 

Harvard Univenity 135 

do. do. 2{{1 

Institute, French, Transac- 
tions of 51 



Page. 
Institution for the Fine Arts 136 

do. do. 343 

do. do. 434 

King of Naples ------- 1 69 

Latin Writings 433 

Larch Trees 138 

Libraries, publick, in England 169 
Literary delinquency of Ame- 
rica, -- 33 

Meteorological Tables - - - - 131 
do. do. - - - - 277 

Mar^t, Duke of Bassano - - - 174 
Massachusetts Institution - - 309 
Mendicity .---------178 

Militia Ilcvirws - - - 136 

Monument to Washington - - 329 

Mind, Godfried, Painter 181 

Niagara, Scenery of 320 

Obituary ------ 142. 

do. 285 

do. 435 

Pitsficld Cattle Show - - - - 136 
Pleasure Derived from Scenes 

of Distress 59 

Puns -- ----.. 4(5 

Russian Settlements on tiie 

North-West Coast - - - 301 
Storms of September - - - - 57 
do. do. - - - - 134 

Stove, Portable, Improvement 

of 306 

Taylor's Sermons 344 

Vortus, Camp at------- 177 

Wellington and Marlborough 177 
Westminster Epilogue - - - - 43 



iv CONTENTS. 



POETRY. 

Page. Page, 

Elegy to T. T. Randolph - - 341 Sadolefs Laocoon 197 

Inscription lo an Alderman - 172 Song ------------- 196 

Monarch Minstrel ------ 183 Translation from Horace - - 341 

Prophecy on Reform - - - - 170 Translation of Sadolet - - - - 199 

REVIEW. 

American Jurisprndence - - 230 Ichneumon ---------- 378 

Cowper's Poems ------- 283 Latin Classicks ------- - 120 

Collections of the Historical 362 Queen's Wake 103 

Society 109 Scott's Visit to Paris - - - - 398 

Currency of the United States *'',;.. Travels in England ----- 242 
Hubbard's History of New- do. do. ----- 346 

England 221 ' Wheaton's Digest 218 

Heyne's Life --------- 201 United States of N. America 68 



3 .=:> 



r 



NORTH-AMERICAN REVIEW 



AND 



MISCELLANEOUS JOURNAL. 



N*. IV. 



NOVEMBER, 1815. 



A description of the English province of Caroldnn^ fcy 
the Spaniards called riorida^ and by the French La 
IdOxiisiane. As also of the great and famous river 
Meschasebe or Miss issipijhe Jive vast navigable hakes 
of fresh water ^ and the parts adjacent. Together with 
an account of the commodities of the growth and pro^ 
duction of the said Province. And a preface contain- 
ing some considerations on the consequences of the 
French making settlements there. Btj Daniel Coxe^ 
Esq. London, printed for B. Cowse, at the Rose and 
Crown in St. Paulas Churchyard^ 1722, Dvo. pp. 180, 
with a map. 

This is a crude performance, drawn up from various 
journals and voyages, to impress the publick with the 
great importance of the region described, and to make them 
jealous of its occupation by the French. Under this name 
of Carolanaj was comprehended <he present State of Geor- 
gia, the two Floridas, and Louisiana ; and this whole terri- 
tory was claimed by Dr. Coxe, the father of the author, as 
proprietor of it under the crown. In the ap|)endix is given 
a document, dated Whitehall, December 21st, 1G90, and 
signed by seven members of the Privy Council and la^r 

Vo. IL No. 4. 1 



8 JBo&ks relating to America. fNoTh 

officers, in which having examined the claim by order of 
the ministry, they report to the king as their opinion, that 
Dr. Coxe is entitled to this province ! Probably there is no 
other instance on record of any private individual pretend- 
ing to such an extensive property. 

Rechtrch.es philosophiqnes sur les AmericainSj ou memoi" 
res interressants pour servir it Vhistoire de Vespece 
hvmaine. Par M. de Pau. Nouvelle edition^ augmen." 
tie d^un dissertation critique par Dom. Pemety, et de la 
defense de rauteur des recherches contre cette disserta- 
tion. Studio disposia Jideli. d Berlinf 1774, 3 vols. 
I'lino. pp. 916. 

Exawen des recherches philosophiques sur VAmerique et 
les AmericainSy el de la defense de cet ouvrage^ a Ber- 
lini 1771, 2 vols. 12 mo. pp. 921. 

This work of M. de Pau on the aborigines of the Ameri- 
can continent, excited much attention at a time when the 
character of (be Indians was imperfectly known ; and it was 
subject to all the exaggeration which the spirit of party 
can produce, denied by one side as being absolutely brutal 
and vicious, and extolled by the other as possessing every 
virtue. The question is now well understood, and their 
virtues and vices fairly appreciated. Historians and phi- 
losophers will hereafter be able to speak of this species of 
men with accuracy, when the race shall have become ex- 
tinct, which will probably happen at no very distant period. 

M. de Pau imagined a very absurd theory, which he doe» 
not clearly explain ; but the basis of it seems to be, that 
the continent of America was recently recovered from the 
waters — that its climate' was pestilential — its productions 
diminutive and feeble in every thing but noxious plants, 
insects and reptiles, which were produced in frightful 
abundance by the stagnant waters, and sour, rank juices of 
nature in an unripe state. To support this strange theory, 
he uniformJy asserts, that every European production 
speedily deteriorated ; plants, animals and men were all 
stunted or destroyed, and the latter both morally and phy- 
sically degraded. The savages he considers infinitely be- 
low every other species of men, even Tartars, Laplanders, 
!|IottentotS9 or P^egroes ^ and the descenidants of {lurope^ 



1816*] Books relating to Americmn 8 

ans as not much supwiour to them. — ^ To call a Spaniard, 
' born in America, an American, is so cruel an insult to 
' him, that jou maj be sure beforehand, that he will never 
' pardon the person who dares make him such a reproach : 

* the Portugese, French and English Creoles, consider 

* themselves equally offended if thej are called Americans : 

* so much do they hold themselves superiour to men of 

* that race, and indeed they are so in many respects, but 

* not so much as they imagine.' 

A curious instance of his rashness in denying any fact 
that makes against his theory, and positive manner of assu- 
ring his readers that nothing of the kind existed, occurs in 
regard to the famous hieroglyphical inscription at Dighton, 
in Massachusetts. — ' Permit me to undeceive you further 
' about another fact,"*^ equally false, to which the memoir of 

* the French academician has given rise : it has been pub« 

* lished throughout Europe, that there had been found in 
' the centre of New-England, a stone which contained an 

* inscription in Thibetian characters, which is^ as you know, 

* the country where the Grand Lama resided. After hav- 

* ing procured all the information possible, about this pre- 

* tended monument, I can boldly assure you, that no in- 

* scription in any character whatever has ever been dis- 

* covered in the whole extent of America, from the country 

* of the Esquimaux to the extremity of Terra del Fuego,. 
^ This New-England rock is like the medal of Julius Cae- 

* sar, which was said to have been dug up among the sav- 

* ages called Cesareans, in the neighbourhood of Patagonia. 

* From which you may judge to what degree they have 

* dared to assert the most incredible things, to support the 

* most absurd systems.' 

This work of De Pau's discovers a good deal of research 
into the history of different nations, but the most perverse 
use is made of his materials, and his ignorance of the real 
character of the Indians is most profound. The work is 
written in a style of petulance and sarcasm, often adopted 
by those who have been called philosophers in modern 
times, though nothing can be more opposed to the true 
spirit of philosophy. 

Dom. Pernety, a Benedictine, who had been in one or 
two provinces of South America, attacked De Pau, ia 

^ Tibe other was the voyao;e of the Grand Lama t« Ameriea. 



4 Books relating to Amtrica, [NoiTr. 

a critical dissertation read 1o the Academy of Berlin. Tfai» 
dissertation, however, is declamatory, and elevates the 
character of the savages too highly t it is in the opposite ex* 
Ireme to De Pan. To this the ktter replied^ chapter by 
chapter, not in a very fair way, often misquoting his antago-- 
uisf, and dealing his sarcasms unsparingly. This brought 
out a rejoinder from Dom. Pernety, in two volumes,, much 
more ably written than his first work, in which he exposes 
the blunders and uRlair conduct of De Pau.. One of the 
points in dispute between them, is^ the existence of the 
giants of Magellan, or Patagonians ; and it is strange that oil 
this topick there should have been so much contradiction 
and even uncertainty. Nothing seems more incredible,^ 
and yet it is hard to account for the particular relations of 
so many persons of different nations, who in the course of 
one or two centuries, visited that country, and insisted upon 
having seen them, and been among them for days together.. 

» 

De V Ameriqiie et (Tes AmericainSj on observations curieti- 
ses du Philosophe La Douceur^ qui a parconra cet Hi- 
misphee pendant la derniereduerre^ en faisant le noble 
metier de tuer les hommes sans les manger. A Berlin,. 
I772y l2mo.pp. 116. 

The anonymous author of this little work, who, accord- 
fng to the title, had been ' employed in the noble trade of 
killing men, without eating them,' says, that he has traversed 
North and part of South America, visited the West India 
Islands, gone over part of the Coast of Africa, visited Chi- 
na, a part of fndia, and travelled by land from the Persian 
Gulf to Constantinople, alt in the course of five years. This 
personal knowledge of so many barbarous or half civilized 
nations, gives him, as he asserts, a considerable advantage in 
forming a judgment on the character of the American In- 
dians, whom it is his object to defend against the statements 
of He Pan. It is written in a- lively manner, and evidently 
by an eye witness of (he Indian mode of living. Though 
in French, judging from some peculiar words, the author 
was probably a German olEcer. The two concluding para- 
graphs will give an idea of his manner, though the [.oint at 
the close cannot be exactly rendered in English.. 



]II15»] Books relating to Ameriem. 6. 

-*Thc savages think as they please ; they eat when they 

* are hungry ; they sleep when they are slfeepy ; they walk 

* about when they choose ; they do not torment themselves 

* about the future, and their labours are their amusements* 

* It is true that they have the villainous custom of some* 
' times eating their prisoners. 

* This is the life of a hog, it will be said ; this mode of 

* living cannot however be so bad as it may be supposed to 

* be, since three fourths of our noblemen live in the same 
^ manner ; the diflference between them and the savages is^ 
^ that instead, like the latter, of eating their prisoners, they 
^ often consume their creditors*' 

An historical journal of the campaigns in North America 
for the years iTdf, 1758, 1759 and 1760, containing the 
most remarkable occurrences of that periody particularly 
the tn/o sieges of Quebec, &c, &c. the orders of the Admi-- 
rals . a7id general officers^ description of countries 
ivhere the author has served ^ with their forts and garri-- 
sons : their climates y soil, produce, and a regular diary 
of the weather. As also several manifestoes, a mandate 
of the late Bishop of Canada, the French orders and 
dispositions for the defence of the Colony, &c. &c. by 
Captain John Knox, dedicated by permission to Lieu- 
tenant General Sir Jeffery Amherst. London, 1769.. 
Two volumes, Ato. pp. 870. with portraits of Generals 
Amherst and Wolfe. 

These are two heavy tedious volumes. The first one 
particularly, being principally taken up with a journal of 
his garrison residence in Nova^cotia and New-Brunswick, 
where he was locked up in small forts, from which they 
could not venture a mile, without risk of attack from the 
Acadians and savages. The war between the English and 
French in this quarter, seems to have been carried on by 
both parties with the utmost barbarity. It had all the hor- 
rid features of Indian warfare, plundering, burning, and 
scalping. The second volume, which narrates the opera- 
tions before Quebec, the battle in which Wolfe and Mont- 
calm lost their lives, the capture of the city, and the final 
capitulation of the Marquis de Vaudreuil, and surrender of 
the Canadas to General Amherst, is interesting in spite of 
the author. 



6 Books rdcUing to America. I^^T* 

There are two anecdotes of New-England sailors that are 
worth transcribing. On their passage from Europe, and 
being separated from the fleet on the* coast of Nova-Scotia, 
thejr fell in with a Massachusetts privateer, which at first 
alarmed them very much, as several prisoners were on the 

* deck, dressed in bag wigs and sharp cocked hats,' which bad 
been taken out of a French vessel that the priva<eer had 
captured a few days before. The captain offered to pilc^ 
them into Halifax, and for this purpose the two vessels 
kept together. — * In the afternoon we happily escaped run- 

* ning foul of the privateer by the carelessness oi his and 

* our helmsmen : the American was immensely terrified, 

* and instead of exerting himself as a British tar would do 
^ in like imminent danger, fell upon his knees io pray : 

* whereupon the captain of our ship was obliged to give di- 
' rections with his speaking trumpet, for the guidance of 

* both ships, till at length by exerting the greatest activity, 

* we cleared him ; and this accident gave the New-England 

* man such a dislike to our company, that he bore away and 
Meft us. Vol. I. p. 12. 

— * The Endeavour narrowly escaped being dashed to 
' pieces against a cliffon the south side of the Bay, which by 
' the darkness of the morning and the haziness of the wea- 

* tber, they did not discover, until the vessel's bowsprit 

* struck against the rock; it was not however broke, though it 
' was curved ; this was early on the 18th, the wind blowing 
hard at north, with a mountainous sea. The poor New- 
England seamen, according to their custom, were going to 
prayers, and ready to resign themselves to Providence ; 
^ but our soldiers, by the example of their oflScers, exerted 

* themselves very spiritedly and cleared her off.' p. 124. — 
Tempora mutantur. New-England seamen now put their 
shoulders to the wheel and pray to Jupiter afterwards. It 
is impossible io read any English work on the subject of 
America in former times, without hailing most devoutly the 
glorious epoch, that redeemed us from colonial degradation* 

Praise of his own countrymen and abuse of the enemy, 
constantly occur in the most vulgar style and manner. There 
is iiot a single description worth citing, unless the following 
may be considered an exception. * A soldier of the High- 

* landers, was this day killed by lightning, and two others 
^ were much scorched. The rains in the summer season 



1815.] * Books relating to American t 

• are exceedingly heavy, the thunder inconceivably loud, 

* and the lightning most beautifully dreadful.' Vol. 2, p. 
344. The work contains all the general orders, proclama' 
lions, &c* and has many materials for the history of the 
memorable campaigns of 1759 and 1760. 

A concise account of North America : containing a de^ 
scription of the several British Colonies on that conti- 
nent, including the islands of Nenfoundlandy Cape Bre- 
ton, &c. as to their situationy extent ^ climate, soil, pro* 
duce, rise, governments, religion, present boundaries, 
and the number of inhabita:nts supposed to be in each. 
Also of the interior or westerly parts of the country, 
upon the rivers St. Laurence, the Mississipi, Christino 
and the great lakes. To which is subjoined, an account 
of the several nations and tribes of Indians, residing in 
those parts, as to their customs, manners, government, 
numbers, &c. containing many useful and entertaining 
facts never before treated of By Major Robert Rogers r' 
London, 1765, Svo. pp. 264. 

This is the work of an officer, who served in, and tra^ 
▼elled over many parts of the extensive regions that he has 
attempted to describe. It is a compendious, and for the 
period when it was written, not inaccurate account, of the 
British colonies. The title-page is a pompous one, but the 
work is rather a meagre abstract of the history of the A t« 
lantick States, and a brief account of the country bordering^ 
on the great lakes and rivers of the west. * The entertain- 
ing facts never before treated of,' are hard to be discovered ; 
perhaps the following conjecture respecting the fogs of New- 
r,f(tunf(ltand may be classed under this .head, and as it was 
adopted by captain Knox, the author of the preceding 
worky to account for the fogs of Nova-Scotia, it was proba- 
bly the received theory in military circles at that period. — 
^ These coasts are observed to be extremely subject to 

* fogs, occasioned by the vapours, which are exhaled from 
^ the lakes, swamps and bogs, with which the island abounds, 
^ as is generally supposed : but' perhaps is more owing to 

* the vast shoals of fish and sea animals which frequent 
^ these coasts, whose breath, warmth, and motion, occasion 
f vapours to arise from the sea ; hence I imagine it is, that. 



\ 

^ 



a Books relating to Amtrieu. fNor. 

* notwithstanding the almost perpetual fogs here, th^e air is 

* wholesome and agreeable to most constitutions, which 
^ would hardly be the case if thej sprung from bogs, 
' swampSy and fresh water lakes.' p. 8« The quantity of 
knowledge in the world certainly increases, and probably 
at this time a sergeant-major would hardly attribute the 
fogs of Newfoundland, to the breathings and gambols of 
cod fish and porpoises. 

The author discovers some warmth in his relation of the 
practices of Rhode-Island ; and this, with the conjecture 
just quoted, are the only entertaining parts of his work. — 
The form of government here is in ail respects the same 
as in the colony of Connecticut. They are not however 
so scrupulous in keeping up to the terms of their charter, 
often dispensing with it in some pretty essential points, 
and taking liberties, not only detrimental to the other pro- 
vinces, but even to the nation ; especially in times of war, 
by carrying on an illicit trade with the enemy, and 
supplying them with the most material articles. This 
they have certainly done with impunity, to my certain 
knowledge, in the course of the late war, when many 
scores of vessels went loaded with beef, pork, flour, &c. 
under the pretext of flags, which for a certain considera- 
tion could always be procured from their governor ; when 
af the same time perhaps, they carried not more than one 
or two French prisoners, dividing the crew of one French 
merchantman they had taken, among a whole fleet of flags 
of truce, laden with articles more welcome to the enemy, 
than all the prisoners with the ships and cargo they took 
from them. Nor can it be greatly wondered at, that their 
governor should fall in with so clandestine a method for 
the procurement of a livelihood ; when it is considered i 
that they allow him but fifty or sixty dollars a year for his 
maintenance: besides, as he is annually elected, so there 
are always two or more, that are competitors for the gov- 
ernment ; and generally, he that distributes the most cash, 
and gives the best entertainment, let him be merchant, 
farmer, tradesman, or what he will, is the man who obtains 
a majority of votes, which fixes him in the chair, (death 
only excepted) for that year. These election expenses 
generally run high, as each candidate endeavours to excel 
his competitor, and, if all put together, would amount to 



t8l5w] Books relating to America, 9 

* a reasonable maintenance, and must be refunded some way 

* or other during his reign, who happens to be elected, and 

* provision made to act the same part over again next year.' 
The author asserts these facts on his own knowledge, but 
Supposing some of ihem to be exaggerated, this inference at 
least ma/ be drawn, that incompetent salaries are impolir 
tick and degrading. 

An account of the countries adjoining Hndsoii^s Bay in 
the north-west part of America ; containing a de- 
scription of their lakes and rivers^ the nature of the 
soil and climates^ their methods of commerce, of shew-' 
ing the benefit to be made by settling Colonies, and 
opening a trade in these parts ; whereby the French 
will be deprived in a great measure of their trafjick in 
furSy and the communication between Canada and the 
Mississipi cutoff. With an abstract of Capt. iliddle- 
ton^s journal^ and observations on his behaviour du- 
ring his voyage and sincp his return. To which are 
added ; L a letter from Bartholomew da FontCj Vice 
Admiral of Peru and Mexico, giving an account of 
his voyage from Lima in Pei^, to prevent or seise upon 
any ships that should attempt to find a north-west pas- 
sage to the South Sea. II. An abstract of all the dis- 
coveries which have been published of the Islands and 
countries in and adjoining to the great Western OceaUy 
between America, India and China, &c. pointing out 
the advantages that may be made, if a short passage 
sihould be found through Hudson's streight to that 
ocean. III. The Hudson Bay Company^s Cliarter. 
IV. The standard of trade in those parts of America^ 
with an account of the exports and profits made annu- 
ally by the Hudson^ s Bay Company. V. Vocabularies 
of the languages of several Indian nations adjoining 
to Hudson's Bay. The whole intended to shew the 
great probability of a north-west passage, so long de- 
si red^ and which, if discovered, would be of the highest 
advantages to these kingdoms. By Arthur Dobbs, 
Esq. London, printed 1744, 4fa. pp. 211, with a map. 
An account of six years residence in Hudson^ s Bay, from 
17 30 to 1736, and from 1744 to 1747, by Joseph Hob- 
SQn, late surveyor and siipervisor of buildis^gs to the 
Vol. II. No. 4, 2 



X^ Books relating to AnuricBs [NoTr 

Hnd8on*8 Bay Company. Containing a variety of 
factSy observations and discoveries j tending to ^-hen^ L 
The vast importance of the countries about Kudscn^» 
Bay to Great Britain, on account of the extensive im- 
provements that may be made there, in many beneficial 
articles of commerce, particularly in the furs, and in 
the whale and seal fisheries, and ft. The inlet ested views^ 
of the Hudson^ s Bay Company, and the absolute ueces- 
sily of laying open the trade, and making it the object 
of national encouragement, as the only method of keep-' 
ing it out of the hands of the French. To which is 
added, an Appendix; containing, /. A short history of 
the discovery of Hudson^ s Bay, and of the proceedings 
of the English there, since the grant of the Htidson's 
Bay charter ; together with remarks on the papers and 
evidence, produced by that company before the committee 
of the Honourable House of Commons, in the year 
1/49. //. An estimate of the expense of building the 
stone fort, called the Pritice of Wales^s Fort, at 
the entrance of Churchill river. UL The sotmdings of 
Nelsdn river. IF, A survey of the course of Nelson 
river. V. A survey of Seal and Gillam's Island, and VL 
A journal of the winds and tides at Churchill river, for 
part of the years 17^6 and 1747. The whole illustrated 
by a draught of Nelson and Hayeks rivers ; a draught 
of Churchill river, and plans of York fort and Prince 
of Wales* s fort. London, 1732, ^vo. pp. 175, 
'Plie present state of Hudson\s Bay, containing a full 
description of the settlement and the adjacent country ; 
and likewise of the fur trade, with hints for its im- 
provement, &c. to which are added, remarks and ob- 
servations made in the inland parts, during a residence 
of nearly four years ; a specimen of five Indian lan- 
guages and a journal of a journey from Montreal to New- 
York. By Edward Umfreville, eleven years in the service 
of the Bhidson^s Bay Company, and four years in the 
Canada fur trade, London, 1790, ^vo. pp, 230. 

These three works resemble each other in two points, 
though written at different periods : in enmity to the Hud- 
non's Bay Company, and in being very uninteresting. The 
Pfonopoly of that company seems quiet and durable. The 



1815.] Bookd relating to America. 11 

fur trade of the north, is now principally in the hands of the 
Canada merchants ; but, if the crionopoly of the Companjr 
did not interfere, more advantage might be derived from 
tome branches of the fisheries in Hudson's Bay. The stock 
of the Company is in the hands of a very few individuals, 
who conduct their aiiairs unnoticed by the publick, and who 
Jock up the vast and dreary regions included in their charter,' 
making no settlements, and only sending about TOO tons of 
efaipping, one voyage annually. The long title pages of the 
two first, are a coniplete table of contents. A great part 
of them is taken up with shewing the probability of a north-< 
west passage, a question that has since been fully decided 
in the negative. 

The only passages of interest in Umfreville's book, are a 
description of a most horrible massacre of the wretched 
Esquimaux, by a party of northern Indians whom he accom« 
panied ; and a very singular and cruel adventure that be/el 
three of I heir factory men, who were sent out on an excur* 
lion to kill game. In crossing a river, they passed over 
upon the ice, and when at a long distance from the shore, 
they found themselves to be on a floating field of it. This 
drifted with the tide out of the mouth of the river into the 
bay, the flood tide brought it back, but it did not reach the 
shore; the ebb carried it out again; and in this manner 
they were floated about for a week, and this in the month 
of January, on the shores of Hudson's Bay. Two of them 
perished, the third escaped to the shore on the eighth day, 
the ice having fortunately grounded on the side of the river. 
He reached the fort and survived, though with the loss of 
some of his limbs. 

In Mr. Dobbs* .work there is a mysterious story, which 
was new to me, but which may perhaps have been investi- 
gated by others. It is in the letter of Admiral da Fonte, 
giving an abstract of his voyage, made by order of the king 
of Spain, to intercept adventurers, who, after the example of 
Hudson, were endeavouring to find a north-west passage- 
He sailed from Lima in 1640.— ' The irth (of July) they 

* came to an Indian town, and the Indians told their inter- 

* preter, Mr. Parmentiers, that a little way from them lay a 

* great ship, where there had never been one before : they 
' sailed to them and found only one man advanced in years^ 

* and a youth ; the man was the greatest man in the mechanic 



.14 An Address delivered io [Not. 

In reflecting on (his choice, a complaint that has been 
often urged, occurred to recollection. It haai been said 
that one reason why we have not produced more good 
poems, was owing to the want of subjects, and though 

The poet*8 eye in a 6ne phrensy rolling. 

Glances from Heayen lo earili, from earth to Heaven, 

and makes the universe his domain, yet that the appropri- 
ate themes of other countries had been exhausted by their 
own poets, and that none existed in ours. Thinking this 
ophiion to be unfounded, the attempt to prove the latter 
part of it to be so, may furnish a theme for ibis discourse, 
during the few moments, that I can presume to solicit your 
attention. 

The early history of illustrious nations, has been the 
source of the great master pieces of poetry : the fabulous ages 
of Greece are the foundation of the Illiad and Odyssey, and 
the same period gav« Virgil his hero for the i¥3neid. Many 
modern epicks have taken the heroes of the earlier periodsi 
and revolutions of modern times* The American Revolu- 
tion may some centuries hence, become a fit and fruitful 
subject for an heroick poem ; when ages will have conse- 
crated its principles, and all remembrance of party feuds 
and passions, shall have been obliterated — when the infe- 
riour actors and events will have been levelled by time, and 
a few memorable actions and immortal names shall remain, 
the only monuments, to engage and concentrate the admi- 
ration of a remote posterity. 

From the close of the 16th to the middle of the 18th 
century many most interesting e\ents took place on this 
continent, and circumstances have concurred with time in 
casting a shade of obscurity resembling that of antiquity, 
over the transactions of that period ; while, by the great 
revolutions which have since happened, the connexion 
between those days and our own is interrupted, and they 
are so disconnected with the present era, that no passionate 
feeling is blended with their consideration ; they are now 
exclusively the domain of history and poetry. All the 
coaim unities then standing have passed away, or exist 
under new relations. The remarkable Confederacy of 
Indian tribes under the name of the five nations is ex- 
tiact^ The foundations of the jfrench Empire in America 



ill 5.] the Phi Beta Kappa Society. l€ 

have been torn up, (he possessions that were once French 
are now held by the British, and the English colonies have 
become an independent nation. All these changes have 
insulated this portion of history, and divested it of the 
irritation attendant on recent political affairs. 

Tiie region in which these occurrences took place, 
abounds with grand and beautiful scenery, possessing some 
peculiar features. The numerous waterfalls, the enchant- 
ing beauty of Lake George and its pellucid flood, of Lake 
Cija;nplain, and the lesser lakes, afford many objects of the 
mu.st picturesque character ; while the inland seas from 
Siipeiiour to Ontario, and that astounding cataract, whose 
POvU- would hardly be increased by the united murmurs of 
ail the cascades of Eticope, are calculated to inspire vast 
aod sublime conceptions. The eifects too of our climate 
composed of a Siberian winter and an Italian summer, 
furnish peculiar and new objects fur description. The 
circumstances of remote regions are here blended, and 
strikingly opposite appearances witnessed in the same spot, 
at different seasons of the year — In our winters, we have 
the sun at the same altitude as in Italy, shining on an unlim- 
ited surface of snow, which can only be found in the higher 
latitudes of Europe, where the sun in the winter rises little 
above the horizon. The dazzling brilliance of a winter's 
day, and a raoon-Iight night, when the utmost splendour 
of the sky is reflected from a surface of spotless white, 
attended with the most excessive cold, is peculiar to the 
northern part of the United States. What too can surpass 
the celestial purity and transparency of the atmosphere in 
a fine autumnal day, when our vision and our thoughts seem 
carried ^ to the third heaven ;' the gorgeous magnificence of 
their close, when the sun sinks from our view, surrounded 
with varied masses of clouds, fringed with gold and purple, 
and leflecting in evanescent tints, all the hues of the rain- 
bow.* 

* There is no climate in the world that presents more remarkable 
coDtrasts than thai of the middle and northern parts of the United 
States. Boston, for instance, is in the same latitude with Rome, the 
«oM in winter i« occas'onaHy as intense, and the snow as deep as at 
Stockholm and St. Fetersbnrg ; but the sun hardly gleams on them in 
the wiQter months, while here his rays are shed from the same allilude 
^ In Italj, and interrupts daring the day that severity of cold, induced 



16 An AdllresB iditieftd to (tH^tw. 

A most remarkable feature in the landscape at this aame 
season, and which those who see it for the first time must 
behold with astonishment, is the singular appearance of the 
woods ; where ail the hues of the most lively flowers, the 
vivid colours of tulips, are given to the trees of the forest^ 

by the prevalence of the windtt in the western quarter, coming to or^ 
over a oontinent of such vast extent covered with dense forests which 
shadow the earth, and prevent the sun from warming and drying its 
surface. Our climate aJBr}rds some of the worst, and some of the finest 
weather that can be felt in any part of the world. The sfMng general- 
ly is the most capricious and disagreeable, the autumn the mellowest 
and most serene. Persons who are in the habit of remarking the aj^ 
pearance of the atmosphere, cannot fail of admiring the evtreme liean- 
ty of the Fky at most seasons of the year. To witness the same effects, 
it is necessary in Europe to get into the same latitudes. The climate 
of Knghmd, modified by an insular situation, and tSb wide spread culti- 
vation of its surface, is peculiarly temperate, but constantly vapoury and 
humid. France and Germany colder and warmer than l!^nglaud, are still 
more temperate than the United States ; it is necessary to cross the 
Alps, to find the same bright and beautiful atmosphere that surrounds 
us. In Kngland it is seldom that any distant object can be seen dis* 
tinctly, and there is always such a degree of haziness in the air, that 
even neighbouring objects are never so clearly defined as they are under 
a purer sky ; the artists of the Continent commonly reproach the art- 
ists of England with carrying this imitation of nature in their own 
country, into their representations of the scenery of others, and in their 
engravings, (the remark was made particularly in criticising that mag- 
nificent work, Stuart's Antiquities of Athens,) giving the misty, indis* 
tinct outline, which they were accustomed to, and which is not without 
Its beauties, but which was entirely foreign to the appearance of objects 
in Greece. This same effect of great distinctness, which is common to 
the south of Europe, may very often be seen here, especially in the 
summer. Any person may judge of this in a clear day, by regarding 
elevated buildings, looking from the sun, aqd observing with what sharp- 
ness and distinctness their edges and angles are marked, and how bold 
the relief, and distant the sky recedes. The most careless eye can hard- 
ly fail to be struck with the beauty of an evening sky, after sunset, and 
the appearance of the western horizon, when the darkness has encroach- 
ed on the eastern. On a summer or autumnal evening, when there are 
no clouds, as the twilight is a(!vancing, the purity, transparency, bril- 
liAni.7 and harmonious subsiding aud blending of the warmer tints from 
where the snn has set, to tiie (ine cliiaro oscuro of the opposite point, 
where the shadows of night are approaching, will afford a few minutes 
of delightful coiitemplaiion to the lover of nature. In contending for 
t7:is splendour of our atmosphere which, has sometimeis been denied it, 
1 am well aware of all its disadvantages, and would gladly take a little 
i.'^ss brilliance and a little more comfort ; but, a^ we are fully sensible* 
and are habitually repining at its inconveniences, it is wtll to knoir 
what compensation may be derived from its beauties. Ta the poetlimd^ 
th^ artist it is replete with picturesque efiect^ 



1«1 5.} ilu Phi Beta Kappa lSoci9iif. if 

fttid nature appeaiti id a moment of Gapriciodd gdjety t6 
liaVe atfrrfed the groves in the gaudiest and most faiitastick 
liter J* Nothing comparable to this effect can be seen ih 
my part of Europe. "^ 

Many other beauties of inanimate nature might be enu-^ 
ftterated, and these judt mentioned are only cited, as beiitg 

* This singular and beautiful appearance of the fores^ is peculiar to 
this country: It arises partJj from the greater variety of trees, and 
perhaps from the early occurrence of frosts, when the leares are still 
Tigoroos and filled with juices, aind which may be defcomposed by the 
tdkf, 8d as to produce these vitid coldnrs ; when they might merely 
Me and be partially changed, if their fall was not |>roduced prema- 
turely. The forests in Europe in their autumnal dress, have many 
fhades of brown and yellow intermixed, but, there is nothing equal to 
the eflect produced here. To select, two of our forest trees, for 
ia^tdUkce, the #hite walnut and the maple, these trees attaining the 
height of forty feet and upwards, and the whole foliage of the iarni' 
er of the brightest yellow, and the latter the deepest scarlet. iVo 
ftrtist has hitherto ventured to give this appearance in its full effect. 
There are many features in our forest scenery, that are highly beauti- 
M froiti their variety and strong cotktrasts. Europeans who have a 
kaoif ledger ahd hrre of botany always admire them. Most of our trees 
tod plants have been tratnsplanted into the nurseries of Europe, and 
are much in request for all their ornamental plantations. It is not 
oiil^ the aspect of our forests, but the general aspect of our country, 
which have both been too much neglected by the American poets, who 
liave written their descriptions more from the study of the classick poets 
of anetent and modern Europe, than from meditating on the scenes 
^miliar to them. A painter who only makes pictures from copying 
the ideks and style of the ^i*eat masters, without animating his manner 
hy a sfncfy of nature, may produce correct, but always cold and dry 
performances. Descriptive poetry, which borrows the fashion of other 
eouritries, however classick its allusions, will be languid and spiritless, 
it will possess no raciness, and can never be rendered interesting. The 
general physiognomy of the United States is different i'ibm that of every 
eoim^ry in Europe, its buildings, its cultivation, its natural and artifi- 
cial o!>^cts have mrany peculiar features. There is no species of cultiva- 
tioii ifi Flurope, not even the vine, except when cultivated on espaliers, 
or pendant between trees, which is seldom seen, that can compare 
frith a field of Indian corn, next to the sugar cane the richest in ap- 
pearance of all plants. The care and labour which is bestowed on 
this grain in the Eastern States, the neatness and beauty of its appear- 
•oce, form a strong contrast with the too careless and neglected 
wpearance of other fields. This is the most splendid of all the gifts of 
Ceres, and it is difficult to say, whether it is most pleasing to the 
^ in its growing state, or at the period of harvest, when the ripened, 
loxnriant cars, are discovered through their faded covering. It would 
extend this note too far to notice all the objects, that may be cited as 
peculiar in some degree to our scenery. 

Vol. H. No. 4. 3 



19 An Address delivered te ^ct^ 

in a degree peculiar. These extensive and variegatci 
forests afford shelter to a variety of animals^ beautiful ift 
form and curious in their habits, such among others, are the 
beaver and the deer ; and to birds of most exquisite plumage. 
The graceful shape and various species of some of the dimi- 
nutive quadrupeds, the verj abundance of some of these 
animals, and of certain kinds of birds, which almost darken, 
the air in their flight, serve to enrich and animate the 
scenery. Prominent among objects of this class, is the 
king of birds, Jove's own imperial Eagle, the sacred em- 
blem of our country : * Formed by nature for braving the 

* severest cold, feeding equally on the produce of the sea 

* and of the land, possessing powers of flight capable of out- 

* stripping even the tempests themselves ; unawed by any 

* but man ; and from the etherial heights to which he soars, 

* looking abroad at one glance to an immeasurable expanse 

* of forests, fields, lakes and ocean deep below him, he 
'appears indifferent to the little localities of change of 
' seasons ; as in a few minutes he can pass from summer to 

* winter, from the lower to the higher regions of the atmo- 

* spher^, the abode of eternal cold, and from thence descend 

* at will to the torrid and arctick zones of the earth.'* In 
the same territories are found those enormous bones of ani- 
mals now extinct, that have generated so many fables among 
the savages, and speculations among philosophers ; and those 
extensive fortifications so buried in obscurity, that even 
tradition is silent respecting them ; — objects which lead te 
that musing on former times most propitious to poi^try. 

Such are some of the subordinate subjects that would be 
fruitful of aHjision, arid fertile in description to the poet. 
The human acfors on this theatre are still more striking^ 
and their hisfory replete with interest and romantick adven** 
ture. The English and French were founding extensive 
empires here, and their contiguous possessions produced a 
century of conflicts, which terminated at last, in the exclu- 
sive power of the former. European affairs were more than 
once affected by the disputes of these two nations in the 
regions of Canada, and the decision of the most important 
contests on the Old Continent has been produced by the 
issue of operations in the remote wilds of North America. 

♦WilsoH*s Ornithology. 



ft 

1815.] the Phi Beta Kappa, Society. 19 

The period also ^ was one of great interest in Europeao 
annals ; France and England were rivals in glorj, both ia 
arts and arms. 

Between these powers were interposed the Aborigines, 
who became the allies of these nations and the most efficient 
part of their force. Before speaking more particularly of 
them, it will be necessary to deprecate the prejudices 
imturallj entertained on the subject, from what we now 
see. The degenerate, miserable remains of the Indian 
nations, which have dwindled into insignificance and linger- 
ed among us, as the tide of civilization has Ho wed, mere 
floating deformities on its surface, poor, squalid and ener- 
vated with intoxicating liquors, should no more be taken for 
the representatives of their ancestors, who first met the 
Europeans on the edge of their boundless forests, severe 
and untamed as the regions they tenanted, than the Greek 
slaves, who now tremble at the frown of a petty Turkish 
tyrant, can be considered the likeness of their immortal 
progenitors, of those immoveable bands, before whom at 
Platcsa, Thermopylae and Marathon, the whole Persian 
empire broke and subsided like the waves of the sea, against 
the rocks they defended. To form an idea of what they 
once were, to see them in the energy and originality of their 
primitive condition, we must now journey a thousand miles. 
They possessed so many traits in common with some of the 
nations of antiquity, that they perhaps exhibit the coun- 
terpart of what the Greeks were in the heroick ages, and 
particularly the Spartans during the vigour of their in- 
stitutions. Their origin has been the source of many 
theories and conjectures, few of whxh are more reasonable, 
than the suggestion of Spencer in his Fairy Queen ; that 
they are the descendants of the man whom Prometheus 
animated by stealing fire from Heaven. Whether this race 
of men could like the Greeks have gradually acquired civi.- 
lizatiod, or whether they are a distinct species incapable of 
being tamed, may be uncertain : sudden civilization at least, 
has been shewn to be impossible ; they diminish and waste 
before its progress, like snow before the vernal influence. 
The sublime allegorical painting of Guido,"^ in which 
Apollo encircled by the hours, is chasing night and her 

^ Id the Rospigliosi Palace ^ Borne. 



2% An Addr€99 delivered to (Novc 

shadows over the surface of the globe, might almost rf pre-^ 
sent- the extinction of our savage precursors before the 
dawn of science and cultivation. The historj of these 
people then is not less interesting, since in a «>h€urt period 
they will exist no where else, and even in the next century^ 
the Indian warriour and hunter will perhaps only be found 
on the shores of the Pacifick ocean. 

The virtues and vices of the original inhabitants of Ame- 
rica, have been generally exaggerated by their enemies or 
admirers. It would be as foolish to vindicate the one, as to 
deny the other ; both grew out of their condition : the 
infiuence of civilized society destroyed the former abd 
nourished the latter. Their virtues were hospitality, reve- 
rence to age, unalterable constancy in friendshipi and 
undaunted fortitude in every species of enterprise and suffer- 
ing, l^hey lived in a state of proud savage equalily^^ 
and had no esteem for any merit except that which was 
derived from superiority in the arts of hunting, war, and 
eloquence. These were their general characteristicks, but 
the difference between Indian, was almost as great as among 
European nations, and the inferiority of some to others wae 
quite as remarkable as that which exists between civilised 
people. 

Among those who were distinguished, few are more emi- 
nent, than the confederated tribes, which were first known 
to us, under the name of the Five Nations. These nationa 
resided originally in the district where now stands Montreal* 
Tue Algonqnins lived more in the interiour. The formev 
were peaceable in their habits, and subsisted by cultivating 
the eai'th; the latter were warlike, and depended on hual- 
lug ; the two nations were friendly and exchanged their corn 
and venison. At a certain period, when game was scarce, 
the Algonquins requested the Five Nations to send tkeitt- 
some of their young men, to assist in the increased toil oS> 
procuring food. These becoming very expert huntsmen* 
were murdered by the Algonquin employers out of jealousy 
and apprehension. When complaint was made of this 
treacherous cruelty, they only blamed the mnrderers, and 
made some slight presents to the injured people, fearless o£ 
the resentment of a nation, who subsisted by the efteminate. 
employment, as they esteemed it, of agriculture. The Five 
Rations determined on revenge, which being discovered by 



tke Phi Btia Kappa Society. 

e Algonqains, Ihey resolved (o reduce lliem lv abeolulr 
t by force. In jxir^uing Ibis sclienie, lliey chased 
a fi-om their place uf living. an<l oblij^ed llieiti to seelc 
p in ihe region, between Ihe Hudson and Lakea Krie 
I Or'UHo. Tlie Confederacy, goaded by Ifae injuali<*e 
^tbeii' enemies, to relinqiiiali Dieir peaceable emplojiiienlsi, 
Fttdualiy acquired a knowledge of war, and courage 1o fuco 
n; and, tbough llielatler aided by the French bed Ihe 
teal advantage of Ibo previous oac of fire arms, Ibe Five 
ivGfllually Iriitmphed; and, wilh llie exception of It 
ait itnmber thai were driven to the liciii'ty of Quebec, 
*»Uy extinguished the Algonquins, one of the inosl warlike, 
I and [lolirick tribes ufNorlb America. Having 
B acquired Ibe habits and knowledge of war, Ibey ex- 
ided (heir dominion wtlfa restless ainbillon, till ihej b»d 
r formed alliances with, or reduced to submission, most 
Ihe nations between the St. L^iwrence, lite sea coast, and 
c Ohio. The Dutch formed a treaty with them in 1609. 
c English made their first treaty of alliance with them in 
W4, which was continued from lime to lime and never vio- 
They had also particular treaties with Masaachn- 
H, New-York, Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia. 
Prom this slight sketch of their history, it may be imagin- 
ed (hat Ibese nations must have held an important part, in 
all Ibe coaleals between Ihe French and English. Indeed, 
Ibc affairs of the forn>er were more than once brought to 
, fto very brink of destruction by them. At a very critical 
'loment, the English willnlreiv from the contest, by the 
■ftosl positive orders of Ihe Sovereign, which were artfully 
Klblaified by the French Ministry, from the bigoted subser- 
Itirace of the Stuarts to Ihe Court of Rome, while, under 
tfMtence of religion, Ihe Jesuit jVIissionaries were promoting 
l|be designs of France, in that vast scheme of Colossal aggran- 
1 4isei&ent, nhich, with one foot at New Orleans and the other 
1 kt Quebec, would have bestrode the Empire of North 
I America. 

The actions of these people in war, had a strong charac- 
ter of wildness and romance ; their preparations for it, and 
celebrations of triumph were highly picturesque. The 
uleniR councils of their Sachems, the war-dance which pre- 
ceded lheire\peditions,like the Pyrrhick Dance ofantiquily, 
was full of terrifick expression- Many of their nchievementt 



I 



-^i An Address delivered to t^0T« 

were performed bj a few or sometimes only one or two in- 
dividuals. These were savage in their character, and not 
admitted now in the practice of war among civilized nations ; 
and yet sach actions maj be rendered highly interesting in 
poetry. What was the nocturnal excursion of Diomed and 
Ulysses in the 10th book of the Iliad, in which they slew 
Rhesus, king of the Thracians, with many of his officers in 
their sleep, and brought away his beautiful horses ? what 
was the enterprise of Nisus and Euryalus in the 9th book 
of the ^neid, in which they murdered so many in their 
sleep, and in which Euryalus, by taking from one of them 
his splendid helmet and belt was afterwards discovered by 
the moon gleaming on its polished surface, and the death of 
both occasioned by this spoil ? These episodes are two of 
the finest in those immortal Epicks, yei it is only to the geniiig 
of Homer and Virgil, that they are indebted for more than 
may be found in several Indian adventures. 

Many of their friendships were as strong as that of the 
two followers of ^neas ; their affection generally for those 
of their own nation was of the most powerful kind ; a proof 
of this may be found in the speech of a Sachem of the Mo- 
hawks to an officer who was hurrying them to undertake an 
expedition, just after they had returned from holding a 
Council at Albany, where they had lost, by sickness, some 
of theh* finest young men : ^ You seem,' said he ^ to think 

* that we are brutes, that we have no sense of the loss of 
^our dearest relations, and some of them the bravest men 
' we had in our nation ; you must allow us time to bewail 

* our misfortunes' — They were guilty of ferocious cruelty 
towards their enemies. Alas! cruelty is not peculiar to 
savages. They condemned to torture the foes who would 
have tortured them. — How many Christian nations are free 
from the reproach at every period of their history, of having 
tortured their own subjects, for mere matters of opinion ? 
In war they laid waste the dwellings and cornfields of their 
enemies, and murdered the defenceless. — Is there nothing 
in the conduct of nations pretending to the highest civiliza- 
tion, th t will, under this head, interfere with their exclusive 
claim to barbarism ? 

That they were not merely hunters and warriours, but 
sagacious in the management of affairs, and capable of deep 
laid schemes of policy, there are many historical anecdotes 



1815.} the Phi Beta Kappa Shcieiy. ^ 3$ 

to prove ; one must suflSce on this occasion. The most ac- 
complished statesman of the Italian school, could hardlj 
surpass the followiug perfidious and subtle policy of an In- 
dian Chieftain. In the year 1687, Adario, a very distin- 
guished Sachem of the Hurons, finding that his nation had 
become suspected by the French, on account of the inter- 
course they had held with the English, determined to re- 
cover their good graces by some signal action against the 
Five Nations, their common foe. For this purpose he left 
Michilimackinack with an hundred men, and called on his 
way at the fort of Cadaraqui for intelligence. The French, 
after many attempts, had just succeeded m obtaining from a 
part of the Five Nations, that they would send Ambassa- 
doors to Montreal to form a treaty of peace. The French 
commander informed the Huron Chief of this state of affairs, 
that the deputies were then on their way, and begged him 
to return home, and attempt no enterprise, that might inter- 
rupt these favourable prospects. 

Surprised at this intelligence, the wily savage was under 
the greatest concern for his nation, least they should be 
sacrificed to the French interests, if the latter could make 

|>eace with the Confederacy. Dissembling his feelings, he 
eft the fort, not to return home as the Commander suppos- 
ed, but to proceed to a spot, where be knew the Ambassa- 
dours must pass, to await them. After a short time they 
made their appearance, guarded by forty young warriours. 
They were surprised, and all their guards either killed or 
made prisoners. When these latter were all secured, 
Adario told them that he had been informed by the Gover- 
nour of Canada, that fifty of their warriours were to pass that 
way about this period, and that he had formed this ambush 
to intercept them. The deputies, astonished at this perfidy 
of the French, related the purpose, of their journey to 
Adario ; on hearing which, he affected the utmost fury and 
rage at the atrocity, which the French government had 
caused him to commit, and swore he would be revenged. 
Then looking steadfastly on the prisoners, one of whom was 
Decanesora, a famous Chief of the Oneidas, he said, go, my 
brethren, I loose your bonds, and send you home again, 
though our nations be at war ; I shall nejer rest easy till the 
Five Nations have taken their revenge of the French for 
ftis treachery. 



24 An Address delivtred to [Nor^ 

Tbe Deputies were persuaded by his conduct^ and fold 
him, that he and his nation might make peace with them 
when they pleased. Adario, who had lost but one man in 
the affair, took one of theirs as usual to supply his place ; 
then giving them a supply of arms and ammunition, dismiss- 
ed thenn These Chiefs were from the Oneida and Onoo- 
dagua tribesi which had received the Jesuit Missionaries, 
were the best disposed towards the Frencby and now re- 
turned home most deeply incensed* 

One circumstance remained to complete tbe effect ; Adt- 
rio, on his return^ gave up' his prisoner to tbe French officer 
commanding, who being ignorant of these circumstances, to 
nourish the hatred between the Five Nations and the Hu- 
rons, ordered him to be shot. The Huron Chief called an 
Indian of tbe former people to witness this execution of his 
countryman, and the cruelty of tbe French^ from which 
even he was not able to save his own prisoner, and then 
bid him make his escape, and relate what he had seen* 
The fugitive arrived at the very time, when the French had 
sent to disown Adario in tbe action he had committed ; but 
this additional circumstance exasperated them so highly, 
that they would listen to no representations. Therr thoughts 
were ail bent on revenge; a short time after they made a 
descent on the island of Montreal, took all tbe Forts in their 
way, destroyed, with indiscriminate havock, men, wonoen 
and children, and reduced the French power in Canacki to 
the very verge of ruin. 

As ibe government of these people was a republich, the 
practice of eloquence was of tbe highest importance, since 
the art of persuasion was a principal souFce of influemee and 
power. None of the Indian Nations carried the science of 
speaking fo greater perfection, of which there are many 
proofs cm record. The general characteristicks of their 
style arc well known. We have received their speeches 
nnder every disadvantage, since they come' to us through 
the medium of ignorant interpreters, who were incapable of 
transfusing tbe spirit and ornament of one language into the 
hVwob of another, when they thoroughly understood neither. 
The solemnity of their councils, tbe dignity and animation 
of their manner, their style of address, * Sachems and 
Warriours,' were all suited to command attention and re- 
spect. Colden thus describes one of their orators : * De^ 



1S15.] the Phi Beta Kappa Society. -a^ 

*4:anesora bad for many years the greatest reputatiun among 
*tJje Five Nations for speaking, and was generally employ- 

* ed as their speaker, in their negotiations with both French 

* and ^English : he was grown old when I saw him and heard 
'him speak, he had great fluency and a graceful elocution, 
Mhat would have pleased in any part of the world. His 
'person was tall and well made, and his features to my 
' thinking, resembled much the busto's of Cicero."^ 

* There were many metaphors which were transmitted down among 
the Indians, bj the women whose business it was to retain and repeat 
them from one generation to another. The following remarks on the 
hogaage and oratory ot' the FiFe Nations are taken from ColdenVs his^ 
toiy. 

* The people of the Five Nations are much given to speech-makings 

* erer the natural consequence of a perfect Republican government; 
' where no single person has a power to compel, the arts of persuasion 
' alone must prevail. As their best speakers distinguish themselves 
Mn their public councils, and treaties with other nations, and thereby 
' gain the esteem and applause of their countrymen, (the only superi- 

* ority which any one of them has over the others) it is probably they 

* apply themselves to this art, by some kind of -study and exercise in a 

* great measure. It is impossible for me to Judge how far they excel, 

* as I am ignorant of their language ; but the speakers whom 1 have 

* heard, bsul all a great fluency of words,' and much more grace in their 

* manner, than any man could expect, among a people intirely ignorant 

* of all the liberal a"ts and sciences. 

* I am informed that they are very nice in t|ie turn of their expres- 

* sions, and that few of themselves are so far masters of their language, 
*' as never to offend the ears of their Indian auditory, by an unpolite ex- 
' pression. They have, it seems, a certain urbanUas or atticism^ in 

* their language, of which the common ears are ever sensible, though 
' only their great speakers attain to it. They are so much given to 

* speech-making, that their common compliments, to any person they 
' respect, at meeting and parting, are made in harangues. 

* They have some kind of elegance in varying and compounding 

* their words, to which not many of themselves attain, and this prin- 

* cipally distinguishes their best speakers. I have endeavoured to get 
' some account of this, as a thing that might be acceptable to the curi* 

* cos; but, as I have not met with anyone person who understandB 
' their language, and also knows any thing of grammar, or of the learned 
' languages, I have not been able to attain the least satisfaction. Their 

* present minister tells me, that their verbs are varied, but in a man- 

* oer 80 diiferent from the Greek or Latin, that he cannot discover by 
' what rale it was done ; and even suspects that every verb has a pecu- 

* liar mode : They have but few radical words, but they compound 
' their words without end ; by this their language becomes sufficiently 
' copious, smd leaves room for a good deal of art to please a delicate 
' ear. ^metimes one word among them includes an entire definition 

* of the thii^; for examples they ca]l rvine, Oneh€Lradesehoengt$eragheriet 

Vol. IL No- 4. 4 



HS An Addfss ieUvertd i& [Nut* 

The speeches given by Homer to the characterfr^R the 
Iliad and Odjssej, form some of the finest passages in those 
poems. The speeches of these Indians only want similar 
embellishment, to excite admiration. A few fragments of 
one, may serve as a specimen. It was delivered under (he 
following circumstances. James the second, at the solici- 
tation of the French Court, having given orders to the Co- 
lonies not to interfere, the French were determined to 
bring the Five Nations to their own terms. For this pur- 
pose the governor of Canada proceeded with a strong force 
in 1684 to Lake Ontario. The Indian Chiefs had meaD- 
while been persuaded by the Jesuits, to send a deputalicn 
to meet him ; having been promised, that they should be 
cordially received and kindly treated. The French army 
I^wever became so much weakened by sickness, so maoy 
of the soldiers had died, that all the formidable preparatiottt 
Were rendered useless, and their Commander was unable to 
prosecute his designs by force. This situation of the 
French was well understood by the Indians. When they 
mety after many cereitionies the conference was opened wi^k 
due form, the parties being drawn up in a circle, of which 
the French officers formed one half, and the Savages the 
other. The Governor delivered a most. arrogant, menacing 
speech, to impress them with fear of the tremendous power 
of France. Garangula, the Indian speaker on this occasion, 
was much surprised at the difference of its tone, from what 
he had been led to expect by the Jesuits ; and immediately 
returned an answer of which the following are extracts. 
The Indians Called the Governor of Canada, Onondio ; it 
was their custom to give a surname, as a mark .of honour tp 
the Governor of each of the Pro\inces, which was never 
changed. 



* as raneh as to saj, a lufwir made qfthe juic^ of the grape, Tbe words 

* expressing things lately come to their knowledge are all compounds : 

* they have no labeals in their language, nor can they perfectly pro- 

* noimce a word wherein there is a laical ; and when one endeavours 
' to teach them to pronounce words, they tell one, they think it ridicn- 

* lous that they must shut their lips to speak. Their language abounds 
f with gutturals and strong aspirations ; these make it very sonorous 

* and bold ; and their speeches abound with metaphors, after the man- 

* ner of the Eastern nations, a» WiU best appear by the speeches- that 
**I have cppie^* 



K19.] the Phi Baa Kappa 89cMsf. m 

r 

' OlfONDIO 

* I honor yoa, and the warriors that are with me all' 
' likewise honor jou. Your interpreter has finished your 

* speech, I now begin mine. My words hasten to reach 

* your ears, pray listen to them.' 

^ Onondio, you must have believed when you left Quebec, 
^ that the sun had burnt up all the Forests which render our 

* country inaccessible to the French, or ^hat the Lakes had 

* OTerflowed their banks, and surrounded our Castles, so that* 

* it was impossible for us to get out of them. Yes, Onondio, 
' you must surely have dreamt this, and curiosity to see so- 

* great a wonder has brought you so far. Now you are unde- 

* ceived, since land the warriors here present are come to as- 

* sure yeu, that the Senekas, Cayugas, Onondagas, Oneidas 
' and JMlohawks are yet alive. I thank you, in their name, for 
^ bringing back into their country that Calumet, which your 

* predecessor received from their haads. 1 congratulate you 

* for your good fortune in having left under ground that 

* murdering hatchet, which has been so often dyed with the' 
'blood of the French. Listen, Onondio, I am not asleep, I 

* have my eyes open, and that sun which enlightens me, dis- 
' covers to me a great Captain at the head of a Company of 
' soldiers, who speaks as if he were dreaming. He says that 
' he only came to the Lake to smoke on the great Calumet, 
' with the Onondagas. But Garangula asserts, that he sees 
' the contrary, that it was to have destroyed them, if sick* 
' ness had not weakened the arms of the French. 

' I see Onondio raving in a camp of sick men, whose lives 
' the great Spirit has saved, by indicting this sickness on 
' them. Hear, Onondio, our women had taken their clubs, 

* our children and old men had carried their bows and ar- 

* rows into the heart of your camp, if our warriors had not 
' disarmed them, and kept them back, when your messenger 
^ Oqiiesse came to our castles. Enough, I say no more on 

* this subject.' 

' We may go where we please, and carry with us whom we 

* please, and buy and sell what we please. If your allies be 
^ your slaves, use them as such, command them to receive 

* no other but your people. This belt confirms my words.' 

' What I say is the voice of all the five nations ; hear what 
Mhey answer, open your ears to what they speak: The 
'Senakas, Cayugas, Onondagas, Oneidas and, Mobawk« 



'H. An Address delivered tb [Not. 

saj, I bat when they buried the hatchet at Cadaracqui, in 
the presence of your predecessor, in the centre of th^ 
Fort, they planted the tree of peace in the same place, to 
be there carefully preserved, that in place of being a re- 
treat for soldiers, it might become a rendezvous for mer- 
chants ; that in place of arms and ammunitions of war, 
beavers and merchandize should only enter there. 

* Hearken Onondio, take care for the future, that so great 
a number of soldiers as appear there, do not choak the 
Tree of Peace planted in so small a fort. It would be a 
great misfortune if after it had so easily taken root, yotf 
should stop its growth, and prevent its covering your coun- 
try and ours with its branches. I assure you in the name 
of the Five Natiods, that our warriors shall dance to the 
Calumet of peace under its leaves, and shall remain quiet 
on their matts, and shall never dig up the hatchet, till their 
brethren Onondio, or Corlaer, shall either jointly or sepa- 
rately endeavour to attack the c^ountry which the Great 
Spirit has given to our ancestors. This belt confirms my 
words, and this other the authority given to me by the Five 
Nations.' — Then addressing himself to the French Inter- 
preter, he said — * Take courage Oquesse, you have spirit, 

speak, explain my words, omit nothing, tell all that your 
brethren and friends say to Onondio, your Governor, by 
the mouth of Garangula, who loves you and desires you 
to accept this present of beaver, and take part with him in 
his feast to which he invites you. This present of beaver 
is sent to Onondio on the part of the Five Nations.' 
This speech may be compared with the celebrated mes- 
sage of the Scythians to Alexander in Qmntius Curtius, and 
it affords materials, which, if they were drest in the style of 
the great Roman Historians, would vie with any that they 
have transmitted to us ; indeed, its figurative language, pun- 
gent sarcasm, and lofty tone can hardly be surpassed. 

Perilous and romantick adventures,^ figurative and elo- 
quent harangues, strong contrasts and important interests, 

* The early history of our country furnishes many characterR, ad- 
ventures and incidents of the strongest interest. Prominent among 
the former is Capt. John Smith, whose conmion and familiar name, is 
the only thing pertaining to his history, which is not elevated and he- 
roicfc. His life is now very rare, and the book commands a high price« 
lint a very able abstract of it noay be found in Dr. Belknap's American 



lSl57i the Phi Biia Kappa Society. 'X9 

are as frequent in this portion of history, as the theatre oft 
which these actions were performed is abuadant in grand 
and beautiful scenery. There are many inferiour circumstan* 
ces that might contribute appropriate materials for poetry. 
The armorial bearings of the Indians, their Hieroglyphick 

Biography. And there is hardly a marvellous tale on the shelves of 
any circniating library, that can surpass the real adventures of thi» 
extraordinary man. From his very infancy, to hia death, which hap- 
pened in the middle period of life, his whole career is a series of daring 
and romantick achievements in many different parts of the world. 
His reputation appears without stain, and he is a genuine hero of ro- 
mance, being equally distinguished for the gallactry of love and war. 
He gave to the northern Cape of Massachusetts bay, the name of a 
Turkish lady who interested herself in his fate, when a prisoner of the 
Turks ; but Cape TragaMzanda, afterwards eot tie name of Cape Anoy 
which it will no doubt retain, though the other mi of regard to Smith 
might be used in poetry. His name is best known in this country, 
from his encounters with the father of Pocahontas, and the devoted 
affS^ctioB of that interesting Indian princess towards him. The charac- 
ter of Standish among &e Plymouth colonists; of the Sachem o^ 
Mount Hope, and the wars which ended in his destruction : the singu- 
lar and heroick character of Madame de la Tour; of whom some ac- 
count may be found in Hubbard's history recently published by the 
Historical Society from an ancient Ms. : the religious fanaticism and 
Intrigues of Mrs. Hutchinson, and her supporter in Sir Henry Vaae* 
trhi< h caused as much trouble and commotion in the colony of Mas- 
sachusetts, as the Mystical doctrines of Madame Guyon occasioned ia 
Paris and to the Court of Louis 14th. These and many others are 
interesting materials. The incident mentioned by President Stiles, is 
Tery striking, of Dixwell one of the regicides, si!iddenly emerging 
from his concealment, and by his presence animating an infant 
settlement, when suddenly assailed from the Indians, to repel, the 
savages, and then returning unnoticed to his retreat ; which made 
many of the people who knew nothing of his concealment regard him 
as a mysterious be'ng, a good angel sent for their deliverance. If re- 
markable characters and actions are to be found in our history, the 
scenes where they lived or occurred, must be interesting from associa- 
tion of ide^u). There are many such, tiiough they have been too much ne- 
glected. We have all felt the interest excited by Scott for tlie scenery 
he describes in the Lady of the Lake. Its natural beauty is doubtless 
great — yet, give a bard of equal genius, the spot described in the last 
volume of the Historical collections, as the one chosen by Gosnold in 
his tirst voyage-^on one of the Elizabeth Islands, there is a small lake, 
in which there is a rocky islet, where is still to be seen the foundations 
of the first dwelling erected on these shores by Europeans. The re- 
markable security of this situation, its natural beauty, the in- 
terest attending this attempt to colonize a country which has 
since played snch an important part in the world, make this scclud- 
^spot more interesting than the Highland Lake ; the timo will come 



:ie Au Address delivered to [Nor. 

writirij^s, and some of their supenfkionfl maj be made SHb- 
nervient (o poetical effect. For instance, there is in Lake 
Cham plain a hi^h rock, against which the waves daah with 
vehemence, and the spraj is thrown to a great height. The 
Savages believed that an ancient Indian resided under this 
rock, who had power over the winds; to propitiate him they 
always threw over a pipe, or made some other oblation in 

tiassin^. A man of distinction among the early Dutch in- 
laliilants of New York, by the name of Corlaer, who was 
held in such high veneration by the Indians that they treated 
with him as fhe Governor of that Province, and ever after 
called the Governor by his name ; while on his way to visit 
the Governor of Canada, ridiculed this Indian Bolus. Ht 
was drowned directly afterwards by the upsetting of his 
canoe, which the Indians always attributed to his disrespect 
for the old man who had the control of the winds. This 
at least is not more extravatrant, than Homer's account of 
the present made by the monarch of Eoliato Ulysses, of aa 
assortment of winds secured in bags, which being untied by 
his sailors, a tempest was created, that drove them on the 
coast of the Lcstrigons. 

There is an ingenious device of Epick poetry, that might 
be here used with great effect. This is the prophetick nar- 
ration, ^ prophecy after the facts have occurred. Such is 
the celebrated Ode of Gray, in which the last of the Bardi 

when thi8 spot will bo visited irith as much interest, as the traveller at 
Rojne gocR to the Foontaiu of Egeria. 

It Fould be encroaching too far to dwell longer on these topicki. 
No prejudice is more common, none more anfoimded, none wiH more 
cortainly be hereafter destroyed, than the one which supposes tfaeearlf 
hiKtory of our cx>untry to be deficient in interest. To a person totally 
unacquainted with it the mere mention of the leading circumstances 
on which it is founded, would pmve on very slight reflection, that it 
^vas indeed impossible it should be so. fiyeri staints and miracles may 
be incorporated in it, if such be the taste of the poet. In the ^LeUm 
e4lfiantes'* publishecl at Paris in 1807, there arc tlie letters of Father 
Charlevoix and the other Jesuits in Canada, relating all the minute cir- 
cumstances of the deaths of some holy Indian Virgins, who died in the 
odour of sanctity, and at whose tombs miracles were performed duly 
attf^sted aii<l sworn to by divers honourable men. Those who wish to 
investigate this department, may consult, Smiih^s Life^ Bellmap*s 
Biographif^ HubbanVs histori/^ Coldcn*s history qf the Five JVations^ 
La liontatCi Travelfi^ and the histories qf Firginia and Massachusetts. 
Chiirln^it iVouveUe France, LqfUau^s Mceurs des Sauvages^ Adaift 
American iwUo^is. 

* Id the Library of tlic Athenanm^. 



llie Phi Btta Kappa Sacidy- 

predicts Ibe inisforlunes of Edfr^rti's posleritj ; such are the 
niventures of Ulyaaes in the Illh book of the Odyssey, aod 
of jEneaa in the ttth book of (he vEiiekl, in which Ihose he- 
roes are told among the ahades, the future fortunes of their 
rsce. The poet might hilroducc ihe expedient as his ia-acy 
MiGgealed. It may be supposed thai a French and English 
Ofic«r, and an American Culoulst should accompany an In- 
dian Sschcm deputed by his tribe, to consult suiiic Indian 
sorcerer or divinity ; Ihe Ecene may be hi one of Ihose i»lamJ£ 
of Lake Superiour, which some of their tradJlious represent 
a ihe abode of the bleat, on shores perhaps nolrodtlen by 
the foot of man, lone, distant and obscure as those Cimme- 
-rfjin climes, iu which lay the opening (o Tarlarus. In seek- 
Bttifor a knoiwledge of destiny, what wonderful events would 
Honfolded. 

P*The prescient espounder of fale would declare fo the 
Tliietltaiii of Ihe Five NaJioos, Ihe alliances, conlesls, 
triumphs and utter extinction of his race ; that ihey should 
(iJBsppear with the animals Ihey hnnled, and the foresia 
^U sheltered bolh — they shonM vanish before the spirit 
Hfirivil illation, like the mist of the Lakes before the morning 
^■t and leave no trace of their exiHlenee, but in tlie 
BPferds of the white men — To (he Englishman he would 
wetell Ihe civil war, the death of Charles on the scaSbId, 
Ihe fanatical austerity of the times, the usurpation of 
Cromwell, and, at his decease, Ihe restoration of Royalty, 
li (he licentious gaycty that ensued — the final expulsion 
te Stuarts and extinction of that family — the lustre of 
^ftnd arms during the reign of Anne ; with the subse- 
itmcreasing splendour and grandeur of his nation, till 
k empire should extend over bolh the Indies. To Ibe 
(jferican Colonist, would be forelold the American Revo- 
' m, the fame of its heroes and statesmen — he would an- 
Rnce to him the first of these, the man who should be 
first in war, first in peace, and lirst in the hearts of his 
countrymen; the successful issue of the glorious conlesl 
br Independence would be predicted, and he would be 
shewn the future greatness, happiness and glory of his 
ronntry. — To the Frenchman he would narrate the con- 
quests, the splendour of the arls and of literature, the bi- 
gotry, disasters and miseries of the reign of Louis 141h — 
Ihe profligacy and corruption of Ihe regency, the loss of 
llieir possessions on this continent, aiid in Ihe last conflict 



^ An Address, Ac. [Nof . 

the death or the Tictorious and the vanqnished General* 
under the walls of Quebec — The constant increase of lux- 
ury and re6nement to the era of the Revolution — In reveal- 
ing that Revolufion, he would describe the contagious 
enthusiasm of hope which would intoxicate all nations at 
its dawn ; the crimes, the horrours and wonderful events 
that would accompany its progress ; and the foul, gloomy 
despotism that would attend its close. — ^The King, his 
family, and his nobles perishing on the scaffold, or withering 
in exile ; religion prohibited, its altars profaned, its minis- 
ters proscribed. — France covered with the dust of her 
ruined palaces and drenched with the blood of her citizens. 
He would foretell the rapid * rise, energetick progress, and 
portentous grandeur of the great usurper ; his ambition, 
wars, and victories ; the ravages committed, the remote 
regions invaded, the kingdoms overthrown, while 

at bis heels 
Lash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire» 
Crouch for employment, 

he would predict at the hour of deepest gloomi the 
reaction of publick feeling, the overwhelming wave of retri- 
butive conquest, pursuing him back from every country of 
Europe to his own capital, his abdication, the return of the 
— but no, plain prose and sober reason are confounded by 
these events, they must be left to the madness of verse, 
and the inspiration of the poet. 

This is a cursory sketch of some of the scenes, and 
events that would be fruitful in poetry. When we recol- 
lect what delightful performances have been composed bj 
one modern poet out of the obscure quarrels of Border 
Banditti, in barbarous ages, how another, in thoughts that 
breathe and words that burn, has immortalized the pirates 
of the Archipelago, much may surely be expected from 
this region when it shall be explored with the torch ofioi* 
agination. The materials are rude, yet talent only is wanting 
to mould and animate them. The same block of marble, 
which in the hands of an artisan, might only have formed a 
step for the meanest feet to trample on, under the touch of 
genius, unfolded the Beividere Apollo, glowing with divine' 
beauty and immortal youth, the destroyer of the Python, the 
companionof the Muses, the majestick God of Eloquenc/e 
and Poetry, 



1815.J RijlecRons on fhe, &c. , fli 

FOR THE NORTH-AMERICAK JOURNAL. 

Reflections on the literary delinquency of Americcu 

The title of this paper contains a serious charge. It 
charges Americans with delinquency in that, to which every 
other civilized nation chiefly owes its character. It implies 
Aat this country wants literary distinction. That we have 
not entered the service of literature. That we want the 
results of intellectual labour. That were we to cease 
firooi a distinct national existence, the great events of our 
history would stand alone on the blank of our national cha- 
racter, unsupported by their causes, unsanctioned by their 
effects. That the whole elements of our literature, were 
they collected into one mass, would amount, merely to ac« 
cidental efforts of a very few adventurous individuals; 
our history would be found little more than state topo- 
graphy; our politicks ephemeral effusions of party zeal; 
and onr poetry without a character. An appeal might be 
made from this melancholy ^record to our philosophy and 
science, and the labours of Franklin and Rittenhouse 
claimed as the heralds of our literary character* But it is 
h irdly to be expected that the phenomena of the age 
should confer national character. They are accidents of 
intellect. They are claimed for science and literature in 
general, not yielded to one nation, to give it a character. 
These extraordinary men very rarely appear in any coun- 
try, and their having once appeared, is not an assurance 
that their like will be looked upon again. 

Neither is the gift they make tis in their works, often 
fike the Prophet's mantle. So careless are the beings 
among whom thej appear, about the fate of their venerable 
intellectual remains, that at times (he only perfect collections 
of their works are made by foreigners ; as if the country in 
which they may chance to have been bom, were fearful of 
the imputation of vanity and selfishness, by making iiself 
the herald of their fame* Thus England boasts the first 
and best editions of the works of our own Franklin. But 
Franklin's address was ' the world.' 

Yielding therefore the reputation which may be challenge^ 
0B account of the remarkable individuals who may have 

VoLILJfoy.4. 5 



94 R^€ction$ on the [Mot* 

appeared among us, to the claims of the literarj world «t 
large ; let us examine our pretensions to that reputation, 
which rests on the broader basis of common occurrence ; or 
to that character for letters which a majority of our publica- 
tions gives rise to; and if it be a reputation with which we 
cannot be verj much delighted, let us search for the causes 
of our literary deficiencies. 

*If it be with states as with individuals, we should look 
for our reputation from others, rather than from ourselves: 
and who df us is ignorant of our reputation abroad ? TbeWi* 
formation we have gained on this subject, and whicd maj 
be acquired from an hour's reading of any foreign works of 
criticism in which our books are noticed has indeed but 
little to flatter our national pride. Our larger works, if 
reprinted in Europe, are soon lost in the ocean into which 
they are thrown. A more disastrous fate, however, conir 
moniy awaits them. They are submitted to the commopi 
test of literary tyranny, criticism, the very bed of ProcrusteSf. 
and I have scarcely heard of a volume's being of the staodarj 
dimensions. 

It is not worth while tQ inquire for the fate of our smalleri 
lighter works. We do not feel jealous of the reputatkui 
their authors flattered themselves they might be iiistni>> 
mental in producing. Knowing then what is thought cl u^ 
abroad, and perhaps still willing tp act as individusJs in likQ 
cases, whose self-complacency is generally in a direct ratio 
to the bad opinions of others, we may seek for some consot 
lation in what we think of ourselves. But how little is theve 
to delight us even from this source ? Who is there among 
us who has dared to write a book, that has received froai 
our literary republick one smile to reward his literary 
labours ? How few works have survived the question of 
our own criticism ? How little has our literature gained from 
the success of this fortunate number I Who now^ we maf 
ask here, in this winter and famine of reputaticfn at bonaQ 
and abroad, will venture to give his days and his nights, tp 
the labours pf the mind, that he may dp something to wardf 
the literature of his country ? Who that has talent among 
us, is wanting in that honest pride and dignified sel^shneB?^ 
which must deter a man from trusting his intelleptual labouo^ 
to criticks destitute of independence, and to a publick top 
liberal and patriotick to allow pf the exc^lence of dpmsf.r 



•ary Delinquency of Amtrica. 

0ck manufacrure? The individual who is bold enough to 
Bake (he attempt, and feels for our lilerary intereals, what 
kery body among us does for our commercial repulalion — 
"he man, who Btrivea to loiise the pride of the nation into 
clion, witi encounter haidly Eess ditBcully, or perform a 
Smaller task, than be who gave lis anew political existence. 
"—He will not have merely to reform, but (o create. He 

''frill encounter that most fatal principle to all indiyldital 
dierfion, a deep rooted jealousy of each other. He will 
Met the i^arcastick regards of men who have burdened their 
Bnds with the good and bad of literature of Europe, and 
felonfouDded wilb the astonishment of others, who before 
(b declaration to the contrary, had really Ihoiighl us the 
t leanied, as welt as the * greatest' people under heaven. 
From the common-place of opinion among us it is easily 

.nsGorefed, that we enjoy but a feeble literary character 
§By where. The candidates for literary distinction among 

9b, or those that may be, are therefore destined to a high 
tUtiuction. But let us inquire, who are lo award it? Men, 
■fao have themselves done much, and are zealous thai more 
piybe done.' Men, who are weaiy ofthe weight of literary 
isponsibility, and are willing and desirous, to find not 
Bly Buccessors, but assistants in their labours T No — it is 
Ikther to come fom men, who have done nothing; but 
ktve gained a real susceptibility of successful men'al exer- 
loo, in laborious study ; or a fancied one, in a friSlidJoiiB 

'ifctte. Men, who can understand more than they can ' 
thieve; men too, who are more successful in delecting 
efermtly, than in perceiving beauty. From men, in short, 
to are too indolent lo be great, and who will not be very 
n&iouB lo yield, what they have wanted resolution to 
iAe their own. If what has been now said be true, 
it lis inquire why we have done so little for literature ; and 
':, whether our prospects are more promising, (han our 
tlrospeclions are melancholy. 

Our literary delinquency may principally be resolved into 
It dependence on Englii^h literature. We have been so 
irfectly satisfied with it, that we have not yet made an 
tempt towards a literature of our own. In the pre-emi- 
mt escellence of this foreign literature we have lost sight 
1^ or neglected our own susceptibility of intellectual labour, 
loeasy is it for ua to read English books, that we have 



I 

I 



98 B^eciions on Ae [Nor. 

Iiardlj thought it worth while to write any for oorselvetk* 
Perhaps if it had been as difficult to command these inexr 
hauslible literary resources, as we should find it to com* 
inand those of the Germans^ we might have gone seriously 
to work, and entered vigorously on the noble, dignified 
employment of our minds. Apologists for our literary 
delinquency, however, reply, that we were colonies of Great 
Britain^ and virtually as much Englishmen as the inhabitants 
of any county in England. That place signifies nothing; 
at least, that the pious Antonine said so ; that the mind is 
the same every where ; that it lends its own influences to 
the circumstances in which it is placed, and admits those 
of things, and beings around it, just as far as it pleases, and 
no farther* That a peculiarity of language is of no conse* 
quence to a literature ; that the language of the mind i& its 
own vigorous,, overpowering operations; that these last 
only require language to be clothed with, not to be knowa 
by. We are told,, that the different modes of using lan- 
guage, viz. its various styles,,are distinctive of those who 
invent or adopt them. That Milton will never be con* 
founded with Shakespeare, because they used a commoa 
language, and that when Americans write books, their 
works will at once be distinguished from those of England. 
In fine,, we are told,, that we are destined, to the highest 
Cterary reputation.^ 

Now, all this may be very true fn theory, but what is the 
fact T Did our venerable fathe^rs, when they deserted their 
own country, bring with them a thread of that literary 
tissue,, so vajcied, so rich, and so beautiful, which had beea 
the result of the dignified and delightful labour of England 
through so many ages of its history ? Have we, their de- 
scendants,, united our industry to theirs ? And can we now 
look back,, and find that our labours have been continuous 
in their extent, and as respectable in character as those of 
Great Britain ? If we cannot, it ill becomes us. to seek aa 
apology in our colonial dependence, as some have dene, for 
we were descended from a literary nation. We cannot 
trace our delinquency t^o our new form of government, and 
lose our niental imbecility in the necessary entails of a 
repubHcaB fornnfoi* we were once known by the name and 
conditiqn of subjects. Colonies, however, we confess may 
moi be thft Livoiirites of the muses. Borne becanie: 



Iftl5.} Literary ddinqueneg of Ameriem. 3? 

literary when she ceased to be republican. But we have 
not always wanted a crown, nor have we always been co« 
lonies. It is said that the mind acknowledges no distinction 
of place. Why have we made it appear so dependant ? 
We have not wanted books. We have not been left alone 
to erect a fabrick of letters. W^e have been absolutely 
beset with circumstances infinitely diversified, and infinitely 
new. Foreigners, however, have almost invariably discov-* 
ered their novelty and literary character. In natural sci- 
ence» how much might we not have done ? Distinguished 
Bataralists of France and Sweden, however, were among; 
the first who traversed our forests, and gathered the sweet- 
est and rarest flowers that blossom there ; and we owe to 
Scotland an American Ornithology. It is admitted, that 
when we write, our books may be distinguished from those 
•f Unglish writers. Not, however, that difference of styfe 
alone will ever designate the literature of a nation ; but 
because our writers can never keep entirely clear of one 
species of literary treason, viz. the coinage of new terms.. 
These therefore may distinguish our writers. No one 
however will contend that these will ever challenge a genu-- 
ine literary reputation. 

The truth is, we have wanted literary enterprise, and 
been sadly deficient in genuine intellectual courage. Cir- 
cumstances beyond a doubt existed, to prevent our fathers^ 
from leaving us a literature. It was hard for them to prints 
even if they wrote. They were perhaps too dependant on 
the rough and toilsome circumstances in which they were 
cast, (o lay the foundation of a literature. Perhaps they 
iii enough in founding an empire. They also came here 
well versed in the learning of their own country, for such 
was England, though no longer their home ; and if they 
depended on what their brethren in England did for lite- 
rature, they had claims which an American can never have, 
hi founding colleges for us, perhaps they dreamt they were 
laying the corner stone of literature. 

The literary dependence to which we have been long 
reconciled, has become so much a part of our character^ 
that the individual who ventures to talk about surmounting, 
it, is thought the wildest of schemers. He is assailed on 
every hand with the cni bono ? that most fatal of questions 
to any plan which isnot cast in the mould of domestic^ 
fConQOiicks^i or which would tend to allure a society front 



M BejUciionB fm fib {^ot. 

the dull contemplation of its-physical wanfS) and the cheap- 
est means of supplying them. Literary reputation ! wfaiif 
is its worth ? what need have we of a literature ? * 

** Oh reason not the need :— 

AUow Dot nature more than nature needs* 

Man's life is cheap as beasts' :" 

Again, we are told the literary market is full. Our inn 
portations cannot be consumed. There is no demand finr' 
American literature. There is not a stall for its literary 
wares, in the whole market of letters. Shall then the natural 
productions of our soil find a kind reception erery where ? 
Shall their luxuriance not only satisfy oursehres, but go* 
to supply the wants of distant nations, and by their ex-' 
change give us the varied products of every climate ; and 
are we willing in literary commerce, the noblest traffick, to' 
depend on the productions of all other nations, withont 
dreaming even of labouring for them ourselves ? We seem to 
relish the literary productions of other countries, and 
descant with freedom and taste on the results of theif 
literary labours. — We have books of criticism occasionally 
among us, and in these ^Oasette* our authors at home' 
wheQ they appear among us, and through them get a 
sort of introduction into the bureaus of foreign literature. 
It might be well to dwell for a moment on these works, 
which make up so much of our literature. But it is 
melancholy to dwell long even on this subject. Our re- 
collections carry us into a sad region of ephemeral 
ruins, whose vestiges are so faint, that we hardly be- 
lieve the tales of their having ever been. To trace 
their various authors, would be a task unprofitable and 
fruitless indeed. Almost every number, or new year, of 
our longest lived journals has boasted a new author. The 
best written of them all, have soon found repose either 
in the reputation they have gained their former authors, 
or have dri^ged out a miserable existence in the hands 
of their successors. Their labours of criticism, however, 
it must be confessed, have had all the efiect they were 
intended to have. Our literature has faded before their 
smiles, as surely as before their censures. As certainly 
perhaps would it have died without either. Many of the 
best works we have written slumber with the worst. Each 
successive generation of individuals among us, or most of 




LUerary delinqumcy of America. 



smile al Ihe faili^re of iLelr colemporariea ; slirink 
from Ihe task of Tracing our lircrarj' liUtory bjr exiunitjing 
whal has alreadj been done ; despair of doing beller, and 
villiugiy yield the energies of tlieir onii inind^j, lo (he mere 

Jierusal of Ihe dignified effecia nbich have lolloued from 
be iolellecluai aclivitj of olhera. So lislless have n-e 
been, (bat we have not done enough lo supply the iraste 
ti lime, much leas to yield a superQuK lo preserve our 
lilecary character. 

Sume men have traced our deficiencies in letters to our 
wani of liie profession or trade of authorship, and of 
tbal degree of ireallh which wuuld a£ford it patronage and 
(Upporl. Our predecessors, or tiiose who lived in the 
etrlieal periods of our history might have been excused for 
resorluig to such a subterfuge. For theirs nere the limes 
vbeo rbe phi/sique stood in greater Jeopardy than the 
morale. We live in times however which put Ihis argui 
neat (p perfect silence. Authorship is no longer a trade. 
4< least Ihe lilerary repulalion of a country, no longer 
^epetida on Ihe fitful, and uncertain exertions of genius in 
r^SSj nor the still more hazardous condition of palronal 
charily. The Muses, in our days, have flown the garret, 
U leant ID England, and now figure in Ihe parlours ol the 
Dobilily ; and even a banker of Liverpool, has amassed 
for us the lilerary wealth of Italy. 

IlmusI be confessed, however, we are deslifute of many 
of (be elements of literature. Thus we want a remote an- 
^^ttj. In tracing our history, therefore, we are not Irac- 
IdC the develupement of human society, the most interest- 
iog pursuil which is oflered the mind, for it is intrin'^icnlly 
the OevelopemenI of the mind itself. In the want of a hio- 
lory of the kind just iadicaled, we wan! a vast variety of 
iDpicks of Ihe very first interest in literalure. We are des- 
titute, for instance, of the materials for exercising'ihe high- 
est range of dramatick lalent, viz. the historical. To be 
sure we have not always slumbered in national peace, and 
we have had many distinguished heroes among us, and one 
we are ever proud to name, stands at their head. But with 
all our respect and love for this hero, we fear we could 
hardly brook lo have bis name among Ihe Dramatis per- 
sona. In Ihe most elevated walk of the muses, the Epick, 
ve cannot hope much distinction, and this for the same 



40 ttefleetions on the [Nor* 

reason which appears so fatal to the American theatre. 
We live in the same age ; we are too well acquainted with 
what has been, and is, among us, to trust them to the im- 
agination. It would be an ' old storj^' to our criticks, for 
the events transpired yesterdaji and some of our oldest 
heroes are not yet dead. Another fact is, we are all ac- 
quainted with them, or feel so. We have therefore im 
curiosity to excite, for we have no information to give. 

Notwithstanding the kind of apology thus furnished for 
much of our literary delinquency, we cannot but lament, 
that we have been so deficient, when we reflect how much 
has been done in the same time, and under perhaps as un- 
favourable circumstances, in England. What if the histori- 
ans of an earlier period, have exhausted the materials of 
historical originality fand interest? What if Milton has ini- 
mitably written, and Shakespeare exhausted the passions ? 
What if Newton, and Bacon, and Boyle were the best scho- 
lars in the academy of nature ? What if neighbouring and 
rival nations, have entered with pride, and talent, and an- 
tiquity, and wealth, the lists against her ? Has England 
ceased from her dignified labours of intellect ? Has Eng- 
land done less than other nations ? No. Every year has 
yielded something to the literary character of England. 
The mind never seems at rest there. It is now active for 
science, and we can hardly keep pace with the scientifick 
discoveries that are made. Notwithstanding the inexhaust- 
ible treasures of poetry in England, almost every year adds 
something which is destined to live. The mind of the 
nation seems to have suffered no exhaustion by all that has 
been done. Where new topic ks have seemed wanting^ 
from the immense intellectual labour already bestowed, and 
an individual has appeared possessing extraordinary mental 
vigour, we find him venturing on fields long trodden before^ 
and returning with a harvest we could never have antici^ 
pated. 

Is there not something besides our yonthfulness on which 
we may charge our literary delinquency ? Is it because so 
much has been done by others, that we withhold our assist- 
ance from the commonwealth of letters ? Is it because we arc 
a commercial people, and the mind of the nation thus necessa- 
rily diverted from the pursuits of literature ? Is it because w« 
^re poor, and feel that our utmost charity will hardly sop- 



IS15^] Literary delin^pm^ey of America. 41 

polt <he pftupefs of the state, much less supply the poverty 
rf liferatut^ ? Let an affirmative answer be given to each 
of these questions, and is there one of them which will not 
^ply as truly to England, as to America ? Nay, is it not 
tetter of greater wonder, that considering all things we 
kave not done more for literature than England, viz, in 
tcienc^, have been more original ? 

Notwithsfanding the literary delinquency of America, 
Itill tr« have done something. Perhaps it would not be 
fiiirj to place the period of our national existence among 
the dark ages of letters. But our best writers have been 
ttofortanate in the vehicles they have chosen as depo^i^ 
tones of their intellectual productions. These depositories 
have been chiefly newspapers and pamphlets of various 
kinds* Now there is something ephemeral and temporary, 
in the very nature of these publications. Hence their 
contents are not safe. A man who writes in them does not 
think of writing for immortality. His mental labours, of 
course soon is over^ and almost of course, badly done. If it 
turn oat that his communication pleases, it excites but a 
ttomeDtary emotion of pleasure, and his successor into the 
tohiaiiis fills his place as perfectly and almost as success- 
fnliy^ as the types which were devoted to their several 
6oftipositions. The literature, farther, of newspapers and 
pamphlets, is plmost always controversial literature ; and in 
tontroversy we are always more interested for the cham- 
pions of pafty, than for their writings. Controversy, it 
must be confessed however, among us has done as much 
fbr literature, as controversy has among other nations. It 
has gratified the passions, the prejudices, the whims of the 
parties concerned, and when the flame is extinguished, the 
pamphlets which did so much to support it^ repose in their 
own ashes. 

Another and very powerful objection might be offered 
to the vehicles chosen for our literature. They are very 
«hort. Their limits allow but a very narrow view of any 
subject. The writers in them, are confined almost to a 
tingle topick of their subject, and when they begin to 
writer they must reduce their minds, as well as their 
thoughts within the limits prescribed either by themselves, 
their partisans, their printer, oi* their bookseller. Now, 
there is a great deal in all this which has a bad tendency 

VoLIL No. 4. $ 



42 * ReftedionSy &e. pSfoTv 

in relation to literature. A bold and vigourous mind might 
not be willing to submit to such circumscription, and of 
course we should lose the results of its labours ; and, be- 
yond all doubt, many a bold and vigorous mind among us 
has by this submission, exhausted itself, in ephemeral 
labours, for tbese short lived works. 

If we have been successful in detecting some of the 
causes of our literary delinquency, it may be expected, 
that some means for correcting this national fault should be 
suggested. It is a trite but true saying, however, that it it 
easier to discover the causes of evils, than to find their 
remedies. And some have argued, that it is but a stinted 
charity, which is only successful in doing the first. It may 
require an apology too, that we have ventured on the dis* 
cussion of our literary deficiencies at all. But we are all 

Eartakers in this sin, and all, and each of us, of course, 
ave some reason, and right, to inquire into its nature and 
extent. It may be, that we may be solicitous for amend- 
ment in ourselves, or if we find that hopeless, that we may 
become instrumental, in some degree, towards that of others* 
If it be not arrogant, we would ask, what are the means 
which appear to promise to do most to remedy our literary 
delinquency ? Would they not principally, nay at the pre- 
sent moment wholly consist in the vigorous exertion of our 
own minds? And what are some of the topicks, on which 
they may be exerted ? Would not the complete history of 
the United States of America be a subject worthy of writ- 
ing ? We do not mean a work of a day, or of a volume, 
but a work which should embrace our political history io 
its widest extent ; — which should contain a discussion of 
all that is peculiar in our civil polity, — which should inves- 
tJ£;ate and decide the effects of our religious toleration, 
which, except in America, has never been perfect in any 
part of Christendom, — which should give the history of 
our literary labours in all their varieties and degrees-^-and 
which, above all, should give the moralist and philosopher 
our genuine national character ? Would not a collection of 
all that has been done for poetry among us, which is worthy 
the name, be an honourable labour for a vigorous mind f 
It might embrace the biography of our poets, — It might 
contain, the real state of this department of literature 
among us, and if it were found deficient, trace the causes 



1915^] Westminster tUpilogue. 43' 

of its deficiency, and show the remedj, — But we will 
leave this ungrateful office, of tacit reproof, and only la- 
ment, that for literature, the pride of a nation, — an earnest 
of ijts immortality, this country has done no more. 



FOR THE NORTH-AMERICAN JOURNAL. 

There is an annual exhibition at Westminster school in 
London, when the upper class of boys leave the school ; 
on which occasion one of the comedies of Terence is per: 
formed by some of the best scholars. A prologue and 
epilogue, are composed every year, the latter of which is 
commonly of a lively cast, and alludes to the events of the 
day. The play selected this year was Phormio^ and the 
epilogue which is taken from the Gentleman's Magazine 
for the month of April, here follows. The motive for 
republishing this piece of classick scurrility, is to shew the 
pernicious effects of the libels of the Quarterly Review. 
All the most odious and absurd calumnies contained in that 
work, are here introduced into Latin verse, and a class of 
boys, belonging to some of the most respectable families of 
the kingdom, take leave of the seminary, and their last act 
reciting an exercise, conveying the most false and degrad- 
ing picture of this country ; and leaving an impression on 
their minds which will probably continue through life. 
Now it is impossible to suppose, that the respectable heads 
of this celebrated school would have permitted an indecen- 
cy of this kind, and this too soon after the declaration of 
peace, if they had not believed the falsehoods on which it 
is founded. 

It is impossible to read without disgust and indignation 
the villainous inflammatory abuse, with which all the demo- 
cratick papers in this country have been filled since the 
peace, against Great Britain : for a state of peace produced 
no cessation of animosity, or any change of language in 
them. Nay, the National Intelligencer, which derives great 
support from the particular patronage of government, and 
is one of the most conspicuous in this line, published in the 
paper of 1st of August last, two or three columns of the 
most stupid calumny against Russia, merely because Russia 
was opposed to Buonaparte. It is an awkward task to find 



44 W0$imimter EpihgM. [NoT^ 

fault with a foreign nation^ when our own goy^ rnment pro- 
tects such conduct as this. But in despite of the news- 
papers in this country and in England, which labour so 
assiduously in their vocation of national abuse, and endean-^ 
vouring to exasperate the two countries into perpetual war ; 
a good understanding may still be maintained, if honourable 
men in both, will treat their efforts with the contempt 
they merit ; and endeavour to cultivate esteem for each 
other. . The intercourse between the two nations is so 
constant, and from a similarity of language so easy, that it 
would not be difficult to bring tp the bar of publick opinion 
any literary, or political character, who should in either 
country, bring forward or support a gross calumny against 
the other ; and he should have an opportunity to apologize 
for errour, or be disgraced for it, as certainly, as if the 
ofience were against his own. Jf this responsibility could 
be produced, the efforts of the profligate incendiaries who 
subsist by administering stimulants to the passions of the 
vulgar, might be regarded with contempt. This epiloguf 
may be considered a sufficient apology, if any were 
necessary, for the indignation which has been felt, in thift 
country, at the brutal abuse of the Quarterly 'Review. 

EPILOGVS. IN PHORMIONEM. 

DATUS. GETA. 

Da. Safve !tenim, Geta. Sed quid agis ? qnisnam hte paratus ? 

Niim liber factus ? Gc. Mox, nisi iBllor, ero. 
Da. Nempe tiia cecisse opera vestra omnia pulcrd ' 

Audierain. Ge. Immo aliis ; non ita, Dave, mibi. 

Laetitia id communt ego solus ncgligor. Krgo 
• Prospich) ipse inihi. Da. Qu!d meditare ? Ge. Fugam. 
Da. Di vortant bene ! sed pedetentim. Ge. Atqui omnia dudun 

Corrasi, id metucns. Da. Quo fugis ? Ge. Hespedam. 
Da. Quid ? quaeso, oc^eani tines qua; vibitur ultra 

Barbara inbumanis teri-a bahitata viris ? 
Ge. Immo ea, quae, nostris quondam quaesita colonis, 

Nunc unum in terris ceroitur Elysium. 
Da. Horrida quorum 1 •iminum ye\ aomiua respuit auris 

Attica, penc etiam lingua sonare timet. 

Chaktawos, Cheroka^os, Pawwawos, Cbickasawos,. 

Michilimakinaeos, Yankey-qu§-doodeIio.s. 
Ge. Quce virtu te, fide, majestate, artibus, armis, 

Coa<;ilio, eloquio, moribus, iogeoio, * 

Nullam nonlonge ezsuperat gens unioa gentem. 

Qu^e sit, qua; fuerit, quaeque futura slet. 



1II&} Wnimif^er Epilogue. 46 

Nostra yennstatis si quid, si leoiila vatum 
Aurea diviDae simplicitalis habeot. 
H^speria omae t^net : neque adfaoc Astnea reliqail 
Hunc orbem ; inque istis Iceta moratur agris. 
f A. Atqne ibi Don vii^o, Terum est Astrsea virago ; 
Saepo-cst, ut perhibent, ebria; saepe pugil ; 
^omwinquani quoque fur. Nee moruiQ dicere piOQitiHii esl, 
Sit ratio simple^, sitne venusta m^gls* 
iEthiopissa palam mensae famulatur herili 
In puns naturalibus, ut loqnimur. ' 

Vir braecis se bellus amat nudare d6oent€r« 
8trenuus ut choreas ez-que-peditus agat. 
Quid quod ibi ; quod cougerere ipsis conque morari 
Dicitur, incoluiui nempe pudicitia, > 
Sponte sua, sine fraude, tonim sese audet in unum 
Condere oum casto casta puella viro ? 
Quid noctes caBoaeque Dedm ? quid amoena piomm 
Concilia ? Ge. Immp audi, quae bona vera teram. 
Agiicolaes ? tibi mille patent, quae libera etant^ 
Immetata tuis jugera bubus ares. 
Auceps es ? media perdix vulgo errat in urbe. 
Potor es ? bora haustus fert ibi quaeque novos. 
Titillatorem GingiFse, Phlegmotonium-que, 
Fellifragumque bibes, Anti-que-ibgmaticum. 
Aurea praeterea libertas, Dave ! homo servus 
^ N^vao ibi. Da. At iEtbiopes — G. Sunt ibi non bominet. 
Qui Tult, et quod vult, et de quo vult, hdmo sentit ; 
Et cui vtilt audet dicere, yel facere. 
Fit sponte injussus quisque indoctusque. Senator, 
Mercator, Judex, Dux, Sophus out Medicus. 
Spernuntur tirocinii legesque moraeque: 
Est diploma satis cuique libido sua. 
^L Nempe senatores pestrinum et ganea mittnnt : 
Optimus et Judex maximus est nebulo. 
Scite oratorem orator convincere certat ? 

Largiter adversi cons pu it ora viri : 
Ne?e ea Rhetorice valeat minus, herba saliyam 

Laetius efiimdi Nicotiana Tacit. 
Meotiri est mercatoris taus sumraa ; ducisque 

Cura, diarrbaeae eoasiiluissesuas. 
Turn lusiis : oculas exculpere poUice, frontem 
Scalpere, nasum omnem mordicus abripere ; 
Atque nccare hominem jocus est lepidissimus. At tu^ 

Aurea libertas quae siet ilia, vide. 
Frimum, erode mihi, si te semel atra Charontis 

Ceperit Elysium navis itura tuum, 
Ipsum omnes absumet opes tibi naulum : animaro indr 

Debebis, nullo est quae redimenda die ; 
Postremo-raagnos pasces in careers; mures.- 

Quin age, et in melius coosule, dum potis es. 
Hesperiam laudet sine perditus, impius, exiez ;- 

Si sanus* satis es, tu, Geta, siste domi. 
Sin aliter valeas. Valeant peregrina ToIente» 
Littora nataii praeposuisse solo. 



46 Phhs. {J^OT. 

PUNS. 

rmOM THE aEHTLEJlAH*8 MAGASiHB. 

^^ I WM told some lime ago of a pun being whistled at 
Cambridge. A member of that University was so addict- 
ed to punning, that a wager was laid bim, that he could not 
refrain from it an hour in company. Before the time was 
expired, he happened to see a sailor in the street, who bad 
lost a leg, swinging between two crutches ; and immedi- 
ately began to whistle the tune of ** Through the wood 
iaddie.'' 

Billy Snip went toskite, when, the ice being loosef , 

He iel) in ; but was say*d by good lock : 
Cried the TaHor, * 1*11 nerer more leave my kotgoou^ 

To receiye in return a cold duck.* 



[The science of Bibliography^ is perhaps of all others the 
least known in this country, although there a few amateun 
who have a smattering of if. When books and libraries be- 
came multiplied, there was real utility, in it when properly 
conducted, and there are some works in this department that 
are invaluable. It has recently in England become a most ex- 
pensive and fashionable pursuit, and much ridiculous extra- 
vagance is discovered, which in the mode in which it is now 
conducted, rather demands wealth than talent to become an 
adept. The principle author in this branch is the Rev. T* 
F. Dibdin, who hr^s published some amusing works, that by 
their splendid decorations have tended greatly to nourish 
the Bibliomania. In the G ^ntleman's Magazine for June, 
there is a letter from him describing a work he has now in 
progress, and which diay give an idea of the present state 
of this fashionable pursuit.] 

Kensington^ Jtme 7. 
* Mr. Urban, 
On publishing the/oiirf/( and last volume of the Biblio- 
THECA Spbnceriana, I cousider myself in some degree call- 
ed upon by the subscribers to my remaining works in hand, 
to state the progress they are making, and the probable pe« 
riod of their publication. The third volume of the Trpo- 



JBIfl.] Bibliography, 

DRAPRiCAL A^TlQ^tTlES has been for some lime in t^radiial 
progress ihiougli Die prtsa, and will appear lowarils the end 
of I he preseal year. About one lliird ofil is siready pHiiled. 
The Bibliographical Decameron ilemaoda a more ex. 
plicit notice. 

In (he few copies of ihe Prospeclus of lliia taller work, 

which 1 circulated amon^ my friends, I observed that it was 

my intention lo exhibit in il, ' a union ot elegant ornament 

' aad interesting inl'orraalion, upon subjects which were now 

'beginningstron^ly toclaim theallenlJonof Ihe puhlick ; and 

' upon which, in this country, very lillle accurate informa- 

* tion had, comparatively, been imparled' — and Ihal eighteen 

^Li months had then elapned in Ihe preparation of drawings and 

^H engravings for it.' The parts or manner of the ilislributiou 

^nf the work, are aa follows. 

^ First day. — Illuminated Mnjivscripts. Under Ibis in- 
teresting deparlmeni will he found einbellishinenU, or faith- 
full/ executed fac similes, illustrative of a few of the choicer 
l^pid more splendid mss. in the libraries of Ihe British Mu- 
^Hbnm, of the Bodleian, of Lambeth, of WestminsteT, and of 
^Hfew distinguished private Collectors. 1 should be loth to 
^Rromise what is not likely to be performed ; or to incur the 
^^ftnsure of vanity or presumption in asserting that the ma- 
terials already collected, in this department of Ihe work, 
are more numerous, more beautiful, and more faithful, than 
any which, lo my knowledge, have come under Ihe eye of 
the puhlick. Those friends who have seen ihe drawings al- 
ready made from the magnificent Missal of Pope Sexlus IV. 
execiiledbyi^ranceaco Veronese and Giralomo dei Libri — 
and formerly in the collection of Mr. Edwards — from ihe 
Roman de la Rose (in Ihe British Museum) — from the ex- 
quisite smalt missel sold at the sale of Ihe library of Mr. 
. E,lwards (No. 829. now in the collection of Mr. North)— 
Ltnd from the yel more celebrated volume, known under the 
1 ume of (he Bedford Missal, — from Ihe MS. Decameron 
\i)[ Boccacio, in Ihe collection of Mr. Coke of Holkham— 
1 irom fragments of old choral books, in the collection of 
I Mr. W. Y. Oltley— from the MS. of the Greek Gospels 
1 )D Ihe collection of Mr. Dent — aa well as' from several 
other precious specimens of early arl — are at liberty lo 
declare their own unbiassed sentiments respecling the truth. 
or otherwise of the foregoing declaration. 



4t Bibliography. (lH^crVt 

Second daj. Printed Mi8$al$i Breviaria dfkl Harm* 
Upwards of fiftj wood cuts are already executed to givto 
interest and beauty to this department of the work* From 
these will be seen the costume, and the prevatUnj tbste 
(whether In droll or grave subjects— childrens' pastimeii 
or death's dances) of the times — ^the variety, the richoess, 
and the typographical difficulties of the execution of theci^ 
publications, as well as the Comparative state of the artil 
of design and engraving. The devices of Yerard, Pigou- 
chet, Ken^er, Hardouyn, Simonrdu Bois, &c« &c. &c« will 
also be found in thin part of the work. 

Third day. Books printed from wooden blocks ; and 
books containing early and curiotis specimens of engrav' 
ing ; Bibles / Books of ganus and sports ; of manntri 
and customs ; of studies and sciences. These subjectil 
bespeak attention for themselves. Numerous engraviiigs 
in wood are already executed for their elucidation ; and 
among them will be found some interesting specimens iilus* 
trative of the studies of Botany, Astrology, Chiromancy^ 
&c. ILc* three centuries ago. Books of Emblems are alsO 
noticed and illustrated by fac similes. 

Fourth day. Origin and progress of printing tipM 

ihe continent, A concise and faithful outline of this inter* 

esting subject is yet a desideratum in biliography. Ho# 

... far my past and present pursuits have fitted me for the task) 

-.^Z the publick is left to determine. 

Fifth day. Portraits^ devices^ and marks of aneieiU 
Printers. It will be obvious that this department of th6 
work must be almost entirely decorative. Accordingly^ 
there have been already cut in wood, fac similes of ih^ 
devices of Vostre, Petit, Rembolt, Regnault, Le Nan*) 
Vostreman, Oilles de Gourmont, Marnef, Roche, Eustace, 
Galliot du Pre, Borcard, Tailluer, Consin, Couteau, Ascefh 
sins, Colina^us, Morel, the Stephenses, Ferendat, CheveK 
lat, Amazeur, Vignon, Lambert, &c. &c. — among th^ 
French printers ;— of Aldus and his family, of Giolito, th^ 
Sessse, the Giuntse, the Sabii, the 9coti, &c. among the 
Venetian printers ; — of Froben, Oporinus Valentine Gufio, 
Heveagius, Brylinger, Guarinus, Bebelius, Isingrinud, &c. 
— among the Basil printers ;— ^f Plantin and Tibbald, &c. 
— among the Antwerp printers ;— of the Oryphii, the Frel* 
\m or Frellonii, &c. — among the Lyons printers ;-^and *f 



2816.] . Bibliography. 49 

the Elzevirs and Hackizes, &c» — among the Dutch printers. 
Of manj of these, several varieties of their devices will be 
given : and I tm already disposed to exult in the wealth of 
my collection, which contains not fewer than six dolphins 
of Aldns, and seven cats of the Sessse ! 

Of the portraits of the printerSy those of Froben and 
Planiinj upon copper (the first from an original painting in 
the possession of Earl Spencer — and the second from a 
scarce print by Ooltzius) cannot fail to be interesting to the 
lovers of fine printing, and learned printers. 

Sixth day. Of ancient and modem bookbinding and 
bookbinders. Fac similes of covers of old books — dis- 
playing tasteful and beautiful specimens of ancient art, in 
the Arabesque character, have been carefully selected. 
Anecdotes of modern bookbinders, with criticisms on their 
comparative merits, will form no uninteresting addition to 
this department of the work. 

Seventh day. Literary bibliography. The portraits of 
Mallinkrot^ Mattaire, Meerman, Fabricius, Tiraboschi, and 
Lainbecius, will appear in this division of the work. 

Eighth day. Of book sales by auction. This depart- 
ment of the work will necessarily form a continuation of 
what appeared in the Bibliomania — from p. 404 to 612. 
Although I have been anticipated in a portion of it by the 
publication of Mr. Home, yet it seems essential to make 
inch a continuation — which will be found to contain some 
anecdotes not generally known. The Roxburgh, Stanley,. 
Alchorne, Merley, Towneley, Edwards, Devonshire, and 
Grafton Book Sales, afibrd materials sufSciently varied for 
the selection of the Book Chronicler. 

Ninth day. Eminent English Booksellers and Print- 
ers. The portraits of the late Mr. T. Payne, of Mr. 
George ISicol, bookseller to his Majesty, of the first Caslon 
the type-founder, of Baskerville, and of Messrs. Nichols, 
Bensley and Bulmer^ will be introduced in this department 
of the work. 

Tenth day. Account of some of the most distinguished 
publick and private Libraries^ in Great Britain. The 
libraries of Durham, York and Lincoln Cathedralil, will be 
noticed in this department ; and a beaotiful portrait of 
Dean Honeywoodj the founder of the latter library — as. 
well as the portraits of James and Rou^e — the earliest 

Vol. II. No. 4. 7 



5% Biographie Moderne. [Nor. 

librarians of the Bodleian collection, will enrich this tentb 
and last division. 

Such is the • Prospectus' of the Bibliographical De- 
cameron. It remains to make an observation of no umall 
importance to the welfare of the work. Every candid and 
reflecting reader must allow, that, in the conduct of such n 
performance, consistently with the plan above laid down, 
which is intended to be rigidly carried into effect — it wiH 
demand no trifling support in the shape of pecuniary re*- 
sottrces. Nearly one thotisand pounds have been alreadj 
devoted to the decorations alone : but to complete the plan, 
another thousand will be essentially requisite. For this 1 
purpose making an appeal to the liberality of my subscri- 
bers ; and as the work is published entirely at my own ex** 
pense, to solicit for the first time, the contribution of one 
third of the subscription price. 

Upon the maturest consideration, and making due allow- 
ance for a calculation which cannot embrace a few unfore- 
seen contingencies, I do not imagine that these two vol- 
umes, printed in the best manner of the Shakespeare Press^ 
in a small delicate type, upon paper of unusually fine sub- 
stance, nearly the whole of which has been already manu- 
factured for the work — enriched with scarcely less thao 
three hundred embellishments, and comprehending at least 
1000 pages, can be published at a price below that which 
the reader has probably before noticed ; nor shall they ex- 
ceed 71. 17s. 6d. to the subscriber. 

The work will be dedicated, by permission, to his Grace 
the Dtike of Devonshire ; and I pledge myself it shall 
never be re-printed ; as far as I have the power of carrying 
such pledge into effect. 

Yours, &c. T. F. Dibdik. 



to the editor. 

Sir, 

You have given in your last number some extracts from 
a work printed at Breslau, entitled Biographie Moderne^ 
which is at the Athenaeum. In the twenty-seventh number 
of the Edinburgh Review, there is an article of consider^ 
able extent, said to have been written by Mr. Walsh, on a 
work with the same title, printed at Leipsic ; it may bt 



1815^1 Tran9aciioH9 of tlie French InstiMef Ae. i| 

interesting to some of jour readers to consult this Review^ 
As the work at the Athenseum is a second edition, it is 
probable, that these absurd accounts of An^erican characters 
were not contained in the Leipsic edition, or they would 
have been noticed by Mr. Walsh; if the article was written 
hy him. It is rendering a publick service to denounce 
books of this kind. What idea woald be formed by a 
German of some of the most eminent characters in our 
country from perusing such a work, if a correspondence 
could be established between literary men of different coun- 
tries, some check might be given to the circulation* of 
calumny, by instantly denouncing to each other, every 
vork that should contain it. P. O. 



FOR THE NORTH AMERICAN JOURNAL. 

There have been lately received at the Athenaeum, the 
transactions of the French Institute for the years 1813 and 
1814, of tphich we will attempt to give a slight account. 
The analysis of the labours of the class of the mathematical 
and physical class is made by M. Delambre, It com- 
mences by noticing the publication of la mechaniqtie ana^ 
lytique of the Count de Lagrange^ whose death happened 
while the second volume was printing. The great loss 
sustained by science in this event is deplored, and the 
hope encouraged that the influence of his writings will raise 
pp others to complete them. This hope is justified by an 
allusion to one of the first works of Lagrange, the calcula- 
tion of probabUltieSi on which the last year a perfect trea- 
tise had been given by the Count de la Place ; and who 
has lately applied his theory to one of the most difficult 
questions suggested by physical astronomy ; the origin of 
comets and the nature of their orbits. Some account of 
this paper then follows. Its hypothesis is founded on a 
suggestion of Herschel relative to the origin of comets, 
which resembles much the doctrine of the ancients on this 
subject ; and which M. Delambre thinks will tend to di- 
minish greatly the importance of these bodies, if it should 
prove to be well founded. The next paper mentioned is a 
memoir of M. Burckhardt on the masses of the planets, 
and another of the same, on some of the equations in the 
theory of Jupiter ; these are followed by an abstract of a 
second memoir by M. Poisson of the distribution of elec- 



S2 TroMaetioM of the French Inatilutef [Nov. 

tricifj on the surface of conducting bodies. Notice of the 
new memoirs of M . Biot on the polarization of light. Is 
given next. A portable Barometer on a new construction 
by M. Gay Lussac is described, and mention of a descrip- 
tion read to the class by Count Rumford of a thermometer, 
to measure the specifick heat of solids and liquids. The 
analysis concludes with a list of the books and memoirs 
presented to the class, and some remarks upon them. The 
analysis for 1814 by the same author, commences with an 
abstract of some memoirs of iU. Biot^ under the following 
heads ; New application of the theory of the oscillations 
of light ; On the physical properties which luminous mole- 
cules acquire in traversing cristals of double refraction ; 
Discovery of a physical difference in the nature of the po- 
larizing powers of certain cristals ; on a particular species 
of polarization which is observed in the Tourmaline. Then 
follows the result of certain meteorological operations by 
Baron Ramond. The next is an abstract of a memoir by iu. 
Poisson on elastick surfaces. A memoir of Laplace on the 
probability of testimonies, intended to complete his ana- 
lytical theory of probabilities is briefly mentioned. Tables 
ofiU. Bnrcfc&ara^ for the parabolick movement of comets, 
an account of an antique vase by M. Monger^ a memoir 
by (Count Andreossif on the Bosphorus of Thrace follow. 
These are succeeded by an interesting dissertation of De* 
lambre^s on a dial found at Delos and on the gnomonicks 
of the ancients. The paper terminates as usual, with an 
account of the printed books and memoirs presented to the 
class. 

The department of Physicks is by M. Cuvier ; the ana- 
lysis for 1813, commences with several experiments on the 
congelation of water, by different chemists, in consequence 
of the discoveries of Leslie, this is followed by an account 
of some experiments of the various degrees of heat pos- 
sessed by the rays of light when dissected by the prism. 
Mention is made of some experiments upon alcohol to de<- 
cide upon the manner of its formation. An account of the 
effects of a combination of azote and chlorine, by M. Du- 
long, which produces a fulminating oil, and a preparation 
extremely dangerous. This chemist lost one eye and his 
life nearly, in the experiments, which had also been nearly 
fatal before to Sir H. Davy. The class therefore advised 



. 815.] For ike years 1813 and 1814. ii3 

tiim to pursue it no further. Another fulminating powder 
Crom different materials had been accidentallj discovered, 
a.Dd was supposed to have a strong analogy to the last. 
Vauipielin found all the qualities of ultramarine ^ in a sub- 
stance which had been found in taking to pieces a furnace 
constructed of particular materials, and this had occasioned 
a hope that a new mode might be produced of obtaining this 
precious colour. Some very curious experiments, in 
analyzing platina, had been made by Vauquelin. A short 
mention is made of a new elementary treatise of chemistry 
by Thenard^ accommodated to the present state of the 
science. The progress of mineralogy and geology is de- 
scribed, and the accurate investigations that have been 
- made m the environs of Paris by Cuvier and Brogniarty and 
also some new works now in progress by the latter, par- 
ticolarly a general treatise of geology. Under the head of 
vegetable and botanical physiology, some ingenious obser- 
vations and discoveries of several botanists are given, and 
meDtion of two new works, one of M. Delille on the -wild 
uid cultivated plants of Egypt, which is to form part of 
the great work on that country ; and an abridged his- 
tory of the plants of the Pyrenees by 3f. de la Pey- 
rouse. The recent labours of Cuvier, Huber, Olivier and 
others in zoology, animal physiology and anatomy, follow, 
d^dsome account of fishes, and interesting and minute inves- 
tigation of various insects given. The paper terminates with 
the department of the Medicine and Surgery. A memoir 
of Jtf. Chambon on the danger encountered by anatomists 
w their dissections ; a work by a young Spanish physician, 
tf*Or/!/a, on poisons considered medically and juridically ; 
8ome remarkable cases by M* Pictet, A new work of iMT. 
Portal on the diseases of the liver, and of M. Tenon on 
the means of prolonging life and enjoying health in old age, 
we the works noticed. 

The analysis for 1814, by the same, cof^.raences with 
>ome just and neat compliments to the allied Sovereigns 
and their followers, on the protection and respect they 
shewed to the sciences and the museums of the arts and 
sciences during their visit to Paris, in that year. He re- 
marks that * the grand crusade was in part undertaken to 
're-establish the liberty of thinking and writing ;' anil ex- 
presses strong hopes that science will be cultivated with 



M Transadiim oftke Frtmck hMbde^ (Nor. 

increaned trdour and soccets for (be fufore. His report 
co/firnence* nith chemistry, and narrates the experiments 
oi Berthollef « Davj, and others upon iode * one ch the most 
* curious substances of recent discoveries ;' — and then fot 
lo'^s the account of further investigations of alcohol. M» 
PeUetUr bad communicated some experiments on the 
colouring matters obtained from sandal wood and orcaneit* 
M. Vanqnelin*8 further experiments on plafina and its com- 
ponent minerals are detailed. M. Monger bad read a me- 
moir on the bronze of the ancients ; it had been discovered 
that bronze was not like steel hardened by immersicNi io 
wafer when heated ; but on the contrary left to cool slowly 
in the air : in consequence of this jif . Dared had succeed' 
ed in making cymbals^ the secret of which was said to be 
known to only one workman in Constantinople, from whence 
all these instruments were obtained. Mineralogy and Ge- 
ology come next ; some remarks on the fall of stones, and 
examination of their composition, are first given. M. Cuviet 
then speaks of the skeleton which was found about a cen- 
tury ago in a quarry in Switzerland, which had been 
thought to be that of a man, and had been placed in a mu* 
S'^nm, with this inscription, a man witness of the deluge* 
M. Cuvier having obtained leave to remove more of the 
stone in which it was enveloped, found that it was the 
skeleton, as be before supposed from seeing a drawing of i^ 
of a salamander. He had discovered also in the Gypsum 
of Montmartre a fossil head of an extinct species of animalj 
which he has called Palaco therium medium. M. Hum* 
boWs history of the volcano of Jorullo is mentioned. In 
this as in most other scenes of nature, South America has 
rendered those of every other region almost insignificant iii 
comparison. The labours of Botany are next related, and 
many dissertations of different botanists noticed. In the 
department of Anatomy and Zoology, several minute dis- 
coveries, in the construction of certain insects, and two 
fapers on different parts of the human body are detailed, 
n Medicine and Surgery some strong recommendations of 
the English practice of amputation are given, particularly 
by Jir* PercA/f who said he could speak of its good effects 
having * had the sad advantage to perform more operations of 
' this kind than perhaps any surgeon whoever existed.* A 
further account is given of the work on poisons, by M. Or- 



1815.) 



For the years ISIS and'lSU. 




Gla, menlioneil in the analjais of 1813. The paper con- 
cliiiies with what had been tlone in Agiiculluie and Ibe 
Veterinary art. 

The ' iiolice of ihe labours of the claea of the fine arts for 
' ISM,' is given by M. Le Breton. An accounl is rendered 
efeeveral pie<:e3 of Musick, of several performances in paint- 
ing, sculplnre and archileclure, by llie students who are 
pensioners of Ihe government at Rome. A general account 
atso is given of Ihe progress of f be arts in Paris, and vari- 
ous publications, French and foreign, connecled with the 
Fine Arts. At the close is a list of the prizes in painting, 
archifeclure, stcnlpliire and engraving, and of the artists 
who had obtained them. Among these is one for a library 
with several apartments allached to it, for purposes of 
Ihe arts, and cabinets of natural history, which tras to be 
erected somewhere in the south of France ; as this is an 
establishment which we are in the most urgent want of here, 
and aa there is some hope that we may soon obtain an 
edifice of Ibis kind, it might be expedient to obtain copies 
of these plans, of which there were three that received 
prizes. 

The reporl of the labours of the class of history and 
uir.ieiit literature, is made by ill. Daunou. The best idea 
that can be given of these, in our brief limits, is the margi' 
Dal notes which contain Ihe titles of the memoirs which are 
as follow. ' Observations of HI. Gail on a text of De- 
mosthenes relative to the topography of Athena. Memoir 
vt Ht. Gait on the geography of the environs of the Eu- 
ripas, and on the expedition of Diilrephes against Myca- 
Iwsa. Researches about Ihe place called Hcrmaion in 
Thueydides by M. Caussin. Observations of M. Gail 
an Ihe sense of certain Greek words, anil on the Hermsnm 
of Livy. A second memoir of M. Ctmssin on the position 
IjtffHermaion or Hermieura. M. Gail and M. Caus^in on 
B tneanins; of cerlsin Greek words. Researches of M. 
nilonHie battle of Platea. Geographical researches by 
jpF. Gail respecting Thrace, iVIacedonia, Thessalia, Epi- 
ice and lllyria. Meinoir of M. Gail on this queslion. Is 
, i 8th book of Thncydides genuine 7 Memoir of M. 
KJmot're Duval upon an Italian dissertation which tended 
T k prove that there exi:>ted a town called Naples in the 



I 

I 



56 Transitctiotts of the French IntHMtf &c. {1 

ancient Peucetian Apulia. Memoir of JIf • Valcnaer 
portion of tbe ancient Appian way. Researches bj 
Valcnaer on a Roman way recently discovered beti 
Sens and Coulommiers. Kesearches by the same oo 
ancient itineraries of Persia and India, and on the mar 
of Alexander and Seleucus Nicator. A memoir oi 
subject of the Caspian gates. Remarks, by the same, oi 
denomination of Caspian, Caucasian and Sarmatian g 
given to different defiles of Caucasus. Memoir of M. i 
cis de Saint Vincent on the places in Provence when 
Cimbri were vanquished by Marius. Letter of j)f . Fa 
from Athens giving an account of some new researche 
that neighbourhood. The Journal of M. Fourcade in 
nia. Memoirs on some charts of the middle ages, par 
larly those of Marino Saluto. and of Marco Polo w 
are in tbe hall dello scudo at Venice, by M. Baillon* 
motr of JU. Monger ou the exterior tunick. Memoir bj 
same on the bronze of the ancietits. Notice of pai 
vases ; observations on a medal of the city of Siris ; oi 
sepulchral monuments of Campanus, etc. by M. Mi 
Memoir of the Count de la Borde on the three monum 
relative to the history of Orestes. Memoir of the sam 
Arabian architecture. On the influence of Christia 
in the abolition of slavery, by Count Oregoire. On 
influence of Christianity on the condition of women, by 
same. Memoir of Jtf. Clavier on the question, whe 
the ancients punished or tolerated abortion ? Memoi 
M* Boissonade on the same question. Memoir by 
same on the letters of Crates the Cynick. Memoir of 
Bernardi on Galerius Trachalus. Memoir on the art 
of Frigga Fridulfson or Odin in Scandinavia by M. Chn 
ofHemso. Examination of the systems relative to 
origin of the Russians, by M. Ddunou. Answer of 
Petit Radel to the preceding memoir. Memoir of B| 
de Sacy on a treaty between the Oenoeze of Pera and 
Prince of the Bulgarians. Memoir of Count Lanjuit 
on the Latin Supines. Notice of the life of Machia 
serving as an introduction to the examination of his wo 
by Jf. Giiinguene. 



Wi'l Ji$couni of the September Storms* bT 



FOR THE nrORTH-AMfiRICAK JOURNAL* 

The tempest of (he 23d of September, which caused so 
auch injury in Connecticut^ Rhode-Island, and Massachu- 
aetta, has been fuliy described in all the newspapers ; but its 
violence was so remarkable, that it may be interesting to 
record an epitome of these accounts in thiA Journal. The 
months of August and September, have this year produced 
repeated hurricanes, and more extensive disaisters at sea, 
than have happened for upwards of thirty years. Many 
of the Islands in the West Indies have been visited by 
them, and a great number of vessels lost, particularly at 
Martinique and St. Bartholomews, which latter Island has 
encountered two of them. At sea the whole extent from 
the West Indies along the Gulf stream to the banks of 
Newfoundland, has been swept by successive gales. The 
shore of the United States has experienced several fresh 
^aies, but only two that have done much damage ; one 
on the coast of North Carolina on the 3d of September, in 
which many vessels were driven on shore, and many build- 
ings unroofTed or blown down ; the effects of this did not 
extend beyond the sea coast of that state ; the other, which 
happened on the 23d of September, was more violent and 
destructive. 

This may be described as the Equinoctial gale, terminated 
by a hurricane. Its violence extended over a space of 
eighty or ninety miles square, and was felt in a south east 
direction at sea to an uncertain distance. During the greatest 
▼blence of the gale from the east to south-east in this district, 
the wind was north and north-west, at Philadelphia, moderate, 
and the weather mild. At New- York they had a north- 
east gale of wmd, of no greater violence than is usual at 
the Equinox, and no important injury was received. At 
Boston, there was on Friday, the 22d of September, a 
strong gale from the north east, which increased in violence 
on the next day, the wind changing io the east and blowing 
till about eleven o'clock, when it shifted to the south east, and 
bore a hurricane character, of great fury, for about two hours. 
Between one and two o'clock it came to the southwest, and 
the afternoon was quite mild and pleasant, and the atmq* 
iphere pure, clear, and calm* 

Vol. IJ. No. 4. 8 



58 Account of the September 8torm$* ^or. 

The strength of the wind, and its tornado character^ wai 
principallj felt over the range of country between New- 
Liondon and Nevvburyport, and its greatest intensity be- 
tween Rhode Island, and Worcester in Massachusetts. 
The greatest injury was suffered by some towns on the 
south shore of Massachusetts, on Rhode Island, Stonington 
and Providence. This injury was occasioned by the great 
rise of the tide, which drove the vessels on shore, forced 
them against dwelling and ware houses situated near the 
edge of the water, and washed away and destroyed many 
buildings, and damaged raurh valuable merchandize. Provi- 
dence snifered most, and even the lowest estimate of their 
loss, which was at iSrst greatly exaggerated, would have 
made the storm a very serious calamity to the town. Id 
Boston the damage was in no particular case very considera- 
ble, and this was owing to the circumstance of the gale 
abating two hours before high water, which saved the ware- 
houses in the lower parts of the town from . destruction. 
The loss of lives was comparatively small, though in some 
cases very distressing, as in one instance of an individual 
who witnessed his wife and children perishing before his 
eyes, without the possibility of saving them. About twenty 
persons were drowned or killed, by the falling of buildings 
m different places. It fortunately occurred in the day 
time ; hundreds would have been destroyed, if it had taken 
place by night. Its ravages in the country, were felt in 
the total or partial destruction of buildings, and the tearing 
up of trees. In the district before mentioned hardly an in- 
dividual escaped from some injury in this way. 

The air was hot and suffocating at intervals during the 
time that the wind came from the south and south-east, 
the atmosphere was filled with the salt water which was 
taken up and dispersed into mist by the force of the^wind. 
This salt mist was left upon objects at a distance of forty miles 
from the sea, so as to be perceptible to the taste. Large 
numbers of gulls and sea birds were also carried to the same 
distance. And it was said, in one place, that an immense 
flock of white headed Eagles and Hen Hawks, amounting 
to thousands, passed over towards the westward, the day 
preceding the hurricane. At New-London the brooks and 
springs were turned brackish for a day or two, and some of 
the wells dry during the gale. The leaves of the trees faded. 



-t 



ISlil.J On the pleasure derived^ <§Cw 5B 

perhaps from the joint effects of the friction, and the salt 
misty and had the same appearance as if scorched by the 
fire. Some of the earlier kinds, such as the willows, lilacks, 
&c. have since put out a new set of leaves. The violence 
of the wind may be appreciated from its having entirely dis- 
masted vessels as they lay at anchor, with their sails furled, 
and from its havcytk among the trees. Upwards of twenty 
elms, in Boston alone, some of which were thre-. feet in 
diameter at five feet from their roots, were torn entirely 
out of the ground. It is worthy of remark, that every one 
of these were of the European species* Not a single 
American elm was started, though many of their branches 
were twisted off. Out of a whole row on the western edge 
of the common, all the American, but only a single Euro^ 
pean elm, escaped. As our elm is in itself a much hand- 
somer tree, and is so much stronger in its hold on the earth 
from the wide spread of its roots, it is perhaps expedient 
to give it the preference in all plantations. The American 
elm however is subject to having its foliage destroyed bj 
worms, which do not attack the other species. 

Tl^ough the gale was so severe and mischievous at 
Boston, it did little damage at Salem. The latter town had 
previoasly experienced a serious disasters in a hail storm, 
on the jSrst of August, which in the course 7eu minutes 
broke :1 30,000 panes of glass. The season hais in other 
respects been remarkable. The month of July was hotter 
and drier than it had been known to be for twenty-five 
years ; and the months of August and September, an 
almost constant succession of cloudy and wet weather, ac- 
companied with east and north-east winds ; while at a short 
distance from the coast, and over the whole Atlantick, the 
winds have been almost without interruption westerly. 



FOR TH£ NORTH-AMERICAN JOURNAL. 

Onthe pleasure derived from witnessing scenes of distress. 

We often derive pleasure from scenes of distress, both 
in real life and in the works of fiction. It is the object of 
^he following remarks to state some of the evidence of the 
&ct, and to explain the cause. 






M On Me pleasure derived from [Nof»- 

Children, when thej are not wanting in the affections of 
humanity which cultivation and experience will unfold, some- 
fimes inflict pain upon small animals for amusement. Crowds, 
in which may be found both sexes and all ag;es, assemble 
round a criminal at the whipping-post, at the gallows, and at 
other places of publick punishment. Thej run eagerly to 
the bloody contests of pugilists, to bull-baitings, and to 
the cock-pit. The Roman ladies habitually attended tbt 
combats of gladiators, and gave open applause when a suc- 
cessful effort was made by any of the combatants against 
another, although it might be at the expense of a limb or of 
life. A multitude is collected to behold a conflagration, 
an engagement between rival ships, a fleet in distress from 
a tempest, or armies falling in mutual destruction* 

In the lighter operations of this law of our nature, we fitfd 
that not only the rude and simple, but the humane and the 
intelligent, when called neither by business nor duty, visit 
jails, hospitals, mad-houses, and other institutions which 
exhibit pain and suffering. They who are most cultivated 
and benevolent, take delight in the emotions excited by the 
well wrought scenes of distress which are invented by the 
muse of Tragedy, or the genius of Romance. The power 
of real history is universal among readers of every descrip- 
tion, to fasten their attention upon the sufferings it records, 
and io make them return with renewed interest to it« sym- 
patbetick pages. We may extend our view even beyond 
the scenes of this life, and mark the effect produced upon 
the soul by the pictures of misery in another. Wo have 
seen by the experiinent, how much pleasure coarse minds, 
which are not proper subjects for better modes of excite- 
ment, can receive from being roused by bold declamation 
upon the torments of eternity. They love the vehement 
eloquence which kindles only at the strong blaze of the 
infernal pit. They have not yet learned to enjoy the finer 
feelings which arise from enlightened understandings, ele- 
vated moral sentiments, and a cultivated taste. They drink 
not at the fountains of that high and holy pleasure which 
springs from the eloquence of divine philosophy, from 
affectionate, but rational religion. •*^ Still, this law of our 
nature in regard to the pleasure derived from scenes of dis- 
trjBHs is essentially the same in the rude and the refined. 
Cultivation does not annihilate old faculties and create new 



mintssing scene* of Disiress. 



mes, but unfolds, directs, and sanctifies such 

Already received in comoion From our Maker. 

. No one can be fonnd, however perfeclly endowed and 

iducalet), who does not take pleasure iVom the exer- 

I fise of compassion, wlio is not willing (o have his breast 
Igilated by the suderiiifrs of others. The Deily himself 
< atTeclions. His mind is ool mere inlellecl without 

i^eling or syuipathy. He is not satisfied with the possei- 
n of knowledge without love, with the exercise of power 

jWilhout a heart lo be intereHled in the benevolent results of 

#s providence. Every creature he has made shares in his 
IffeclioDs, and the virtne and happiness of each contribute 
D the enjoyment of his own divine existence. 

Having suggesled some of the evidence of the fact that 
R often derive pleasure from scenes of disi 



we have ■ 



I SUppo: 



[tempt an illustration of the cause. We 

tat the distress of others is, in itself, a source of plei 

I BD UDCorrupled mind, but that many scenes of distress 

lU into operation such a variety of our faculties as to 

luce pleasure upon the whole, and sometimes lo a very 

:at degree. The pain of another, simply considered, is 

ibly never pleasant even to a perverted mind. When 

e are excited by anger, by envy, by revenge, by wound- 

i pride or disappointed ambition, we may be gratified with 

le pain which we are able lo iiiilicl; we may enjoy a 

lalignanf and transient happiness in contemplating the 

iJaery of those whom we hate. It is not in any of these 

rapecfs that we design to pursue our inquiry. We mean 

Is consider the mind, in the analysis we make of this subject, 

MB in a natural and benevolent state, warmed with good 

iffcctions, and influenced by worthy motives. 

r The first cause which we shall mention of (he pleasure 

Jlerived from scenes of distress is symjialky. By this 

■W meant fellow feeling in general, the capacity to be aflecled 

ity the affection of another without limiting the impression 

" those operations of the mind which are painful. We 

iHrnpathiEe in the pleasjires as well as in the pains of others. 

tfiympath}', according to the meaning of the term, is social 

ia its nature, and is one of the elements of benevolence. 

flbc exercise of it is often uKimate, an end in itself, a 

^BHUre beyond which we make no inquiry for the reason 

m \U existence. The emotions, which sympathy first 



I 



6*2 On the fltasure dtrivtd fron [Nor. 

produces, are prior to aoj speculations of the understanding 
about them, and cannot of course be selfish or mercenarj. 
To gire action to such a power of the mind is a good, a 
felicity, without considering the relief of distress, or the 
^co-operation in virtuous enterprises, to which it is often de- 
signed to lead us, and in wh'ch we discover a further end of 
its excitement. All scenes of distress, which interest our 
sympathy, do not afford us pleasure. Some of them are 
attended by such odious or barbarous circumstances aa to 
make pain and disgust predominate. From these we flv* 
The degree of natural sensibility, cultivation, past associa- 
tions and habits, are to be considered when we inquire into 
the effect which a given scene will produce upon a ^iven 
mind. What may engage and please a child, may offend and 
shock him when he becomes a man. An execution, which 
might interest and entertain the rabble, would be a source 
of misery only to a refined and elevated mind. It is however 
a general law of our nature that whatever excites our sym- 
pathy shall give us pleasure in a greater or less degree* 
To be moved, to be roused, to be strongly affected, is 
itself delightful; and is, under suitable modifications, coveted 
by all. Apathy is one of the great enemies of human hap- 
piness, and whatever will relieve us from this we embrace 
or pursue with ardour. The exhilaration arising from fear,^ 
or a sense of danger, when the mind is not too powerfully 
affected, is pleasant and often sought, often renewed. It i^ 
one of the most lively enjoyments of the young and enter: 
prising. This also constitutes the interest which many 
persons feel in the pictures of a local hell, burning with 
elemental fire. It relieves the apathy of unthinking minds, 
which have few resources, and gratifies the love of strong 
emotions. 

Before we leave the subject of sympathy we ought to 
offer a remark upon those forms of it which are not thought 
to be benevolent. We may be made to sympathize with 
the spirit of anger and revenge, and to associate with others 
in the accoinplishment of a vicious purpose. Here, how- 
ever, the sympathy itself is laudable, although it may be 
perverted and abused. It is still social and benevolent sui 
far as its own objects are concerned. It seeks what is 
esteemed to be a good for those to whom it is attached, and 
the gratification of il is a legitimate pleasure. The possessor 



M15^] wUnessing scenes of Distte$9. 63 

may disserve ceiisare for his views and motives, while the 
ijmpatfaj itself is innocent and amiable. 

The second cause to be mentioned in this inquiry is 
curiositj/m This is one of the most active properties of 
our nature. When it is enlightened and well directed, it is 
also one of the most honourable, useful, and delightful. 
The abuses of it, which prevail in the conversation and 
pursoits of some of the members of society, are sufficiently 
contemptible, and produce considerable misery in the 
circles of weakness and folly. But in its genuine and 
elevated character it is a stimulus to knowledge and enter- 
prise, a motive to activity and virtue, a source of perma- 
nent interest and happiness. It is connected with the most 
valuable operations of the mind, evidently with the cultiva- 
tion of the understanding, and as really, though not as obvi- 
ously, with sympathy. Curiosity makes us feel an interest 
in others, and thus tends to make others feel an interest in 
ns. When a mind's curiosity is worn out, or permitted to 
sleep, its sympathy also has little or no activity. We then 
cbase to please and to be pleased. Apathy oppresses us in 
lolitude, and makes us a weight in society. On this account, 
those who have travelled and seen much, who have had 
great experience, whose knowledge is extensive and whose 
power to engage and delight others is unlimited, are some- 
tiines found to be the most dull and depressing companions. 
They are not only without vivacity themselves, but they 
spread a deadening influence over the vivacity of others. 
Persons in every respect inferiour to them, except in curi- 
osity and sympathy, are far more instructive and useful 
as well as agreeable. Whenever we find a learned and 
intelligent old man, who has preserved his curiosity and 
sympathy in the midst of his attainments and experi- 
ence, who maintains his interest in the persons and scenes 
aroand him, who cherishes the vivacity of youth in his 
heart, while snows cover his head, and whose affections 
have been warmed and elevated in proportion to the en- 
largement of his understanding and his views, we spontane- 
ously love and admire him as the perfection of our nature, 
as one who has anticipated the spirit and the virtues of im- 
m oftality. 

In all new and interesting scenes, whether of enjoyment 
^ suffering, curiosity goes with sympathy, and furnishes a 






04 On the pleasure derived from pVor* 

large part of the pleasure whose causes this essaj is der 
signed to explain. It is curiosity especiallj which leafk 
us so eagerly to seek the place firom whence a report of 
alarm or distress may have spread. 

Nearly allied to curiosity is the love of novelty. Theat 
two properties of the mind appear to be quite distinct. 
Curiosity is higher and better than the love of novelty* 
The latter may exist in light and unfurnished minds which 
have nothing of that spirit of inquiry and analysis which 
characterizes the former. Such minds may desire change 
merely as a relief from ennui ; and not at all as a source 
of new attainments in knowledge, sympathy, or virtue. Co* 
riosity may be cherished in a high degree where there is 
little or no love of change, where the spirit of inquiry is 
vigorously pursued in a course of life which the lovers of 
novelty would call insufferably monotonous and dull. Cn* 
riosity and the love of novelty, however, are nearly alUed 
in producing the pleasure which arises from scenes of dis* 
tress. 

Another source of this pleasure is thought by some to 
be a secret comparison which we make between our own 
security as spectators, and the distress of the sufierenu 
If this be true, it is selfish, and dishonourable. But it 
seems to us not to be among our early impressions. It has 
too much of deliberate calculation to mingle with the spoB* 
taneous and rapid emotions which occupy the mind, and 
give it the interest of the occasion. If this comparison be 
made at all, it must be very late in the operations of the 
mind, and must rather constitute a part of the pleasure ia 
reviewing or describing the scene after it is past. 

In witnessing some scenes of distress the emotions of 
sublimity and piety are highly excited in the beholder, 
and give a strong and sacred interest to the mind. We 
see courage, fortitude, magnanimity, all the generous and 
disinterested virtues. A good man preserving his integrity 
and equanimity, when surrounded by dangers and suffer- 
ings, is proverbially one of the noblest objects of contem* 
plation, and fills the soul with the most exalted sentimenti 
while it imparts the purest pleasure. 

But what in technical language is called the^^nal causey 
or in common language the end, for which this pleasure 
from scenes of distress is made to arise, is an important 



it 15*^ (KDitnesaing scenes of Distress. 6§ 

art icie in the illustration of this subject. The end is, that 
hy our spontaneous impulses we may be put in the place, 
and in the waj of extending relief when it is wanted, and 
when it is in our power to afford it. Numberless are the 
instances 'in which our feelings have led us, without any 
previous thought of usefulness or duty, to the opportunity 
of doing the most honourable and benevolent actions, and 
then prompted us to use it, while our reason has been left 
to come in afterward to examine and weigh at its leisure^ 
the merit of the impulse and the achievement. Were our 

Sassions as sIow,^as our systematick investigations, we could 
and enjoy but little in this short life. By their prompt 
end powerful efforts we are often thrown into situations, 
where we cannot hut be disinterested and magnanimous ; 
where we open to ourselves sources of thought, feeling and 
enjoyment to which we should never have been conducted 
by cold calculation. It is a great purpose in this arrange- 
ment of Providence to unfold our powers and form our cha- 
racters. For this end we must have trials and distresses 
as well as blessings and encouragements. We arrive at 
the knowledge of others only through the labours and strug- 
gles of our own minds. We cannot davelope our faculties, 
understand our nature, and enjoy our existence, without the 
relations, the wants, and the sympathies of society. It is a 
Talnable end, which is to be answered by the interest we 
take in the distress of others, that we are thus led to the 

filace and the opportunity of relief, and are assisted in un- 
blding the powers of the mind and in forming a benevolent 
character. 

Another cause of the interest and pleasure we derive 
from scenes of distress, lies in that which has been already 
illustrated in part by the remarks upon sympathy and 
curiosity, but which as embracing other faculties deser\es 
a distinct consideration : We mean mental exercise, the 
employment of the mind without any reference to a further 
eud, or to any result in practice. Mental exercise is de- 
sirable in itself ; and is often ultimate^ when said of the 
mind at large, as much as when it is said of sympathy in 

Erticniar. It is not only to be desired because it re- 
ves us from languor, which is a real evil, but because it 
is an independent pleasure, a positive good. We eat not 
fflcrelj to support life or remove the pain of hunger, but 
becinise there is a pleasure in the action. We exercise 
Vol 11. No. 4. 9 



pfi On tju plfa9ure derived from [N^v, 

I9ur ))odies pot merely to do biiBinesi and pre^erre liealtliy 
\iut because the exerpifte ia itself an epjo jment* It is tb^ 
same with the mindr Whatever gives it action, wbateyeir 
awakens it to efibrty is welcomed as a source of happinesSf 
Whoever thinks that happiness consists ip the r^ose, th^ 
Inaptipn qf Ihis naind, rather than in its efforts * is U|^e thf; 
f man whp should make the horses in his coach stand atil|| 
^ because he conld bold tlifs reins more easily.' 

We might offer a further illustration of the pleasure d^- 
f'jvecl from some scenes of distress, by the operation of ft 
spp^e f)(jtistic€^ and of the propriety of retr^b^tiQn• Pail) 
pF|ay be inflicted either as a punishment, as a motive tff 
fietbrmatton, or as a trial of character for future reward^ , lo 
fit)y pf these relations, the mind looks at the wisdoip an^ 
heneyplicnpe of the object, and is thus reconciled tp tb^ 
paip, put this view of the subject does not belpng to opf 
plan pf treating it. 

In rpgard to imaginary scenes pf distress, the r^inarkt 
^Iready pipde about those which are real, are generally ap? 
plicabiCf But to these we must add the interest and de? 
light which result from the genius, taste, and feeling of thei 
writer, We probably weep more generally apd easily ovei 
fn^iginary distress, or simple and natural descriptions of 
the sufferings pf generous minds, than over distress which 
js real and presenff In the real and present distress of 
pthers, especially among the popr, thpre are often circum? 
stances of coarseness, vulgarity, deception, and selfishness 
which disgust u^, which weaken the fprce of sympathy^ 
^pd leave us tp act more from a sense of duty than from 
Impulse, The mind is employed in devising the means of 
relief, pf alleviation, or of correction. It has the spirit of 
^^$iness to check its sensibility. Duty and example often 
require habitual selfrcommand, and forbid any outward ext 
libifipn pf weakness, or what might be considered as such, 
iiit ip ifpagipary distres.««, or in the descriptions of sufferingi 
t(ie circumstances are all selected and arranged fpr the purr 
ppse of sentimental effect. Whatever would mar the ior 
fprest is excluded. Ail the sentiments expressed are noble 
fipd disinterested, or selfish and dishonourable, according 
fO the wants and wishes of genius, and the fprce of contrast 
tp heighten the description. The mind of the reader is 

ifft peffpctly free frpm the responsibility pf action, and may 
fiflfjllje m fSpelipgfif apd jtsf tear?j wit|iQut the pbep^ wWcfl 



1^15.^ fiflinesaing stems of Distrust 67 

the task of business dr relief wduld impose; Kl'hat one should 
Weep over a novel} or a tragedy^ and not at the sufierings 
6f the pk>dr around himj at the sorrows of thd bereaved, or 
the distress of the piersecated^ is no proojf df thd want of 
sensibf^ty. ite who is most efficient t6 discover and 
l*elieve the wants df the cdmmunity^ is n^tet the man of 
tears, while discharging the great duties df philanthropy. 
But ][rlac6 the same generdti^ benefactdr^ affe> i day spent 
h active benevolence, at the fireside df his parlour^ sur- 
fMild^d by his family, reading a well wrought tsle df wo^ 
aiid in^ eyes will fill with tears at the sympatheticfc turns 
(Sfiheitatyi aMd the disinterdsted sentiments of afflicted 
firttW; 

id a review df dut* remarks upori this subject^ ihe pleasure 
ffaich we dt^rive frdm scenefs of didti^ess both in real life, ana 
m the wdrkd of fiction, appears to arise from sympathy^ 
fi^toi Cti^iosity, from the love of* novelty, from our attach- 
ment td strong emotions and excitements^ from the valuable 
and practical end which dur interest in the distress of 
i^ther^ prdiildted^ from the developemeht df our faculties 
ttd Ihe formation of character^ from mental exercise gener- 
My, from A $ense of justice and retribution, from the ideii 
^ a probation in order to deserve a future reward, fronr 
ihvtotion and skill in the productions of genius, and front 
ftc fSdeiai and generous nature of our passions. 



THE NORTH-AMERICAN REVIEW. 



Sketch of the United States of NorthrAmericaj iU the 
commencement of the nineteenth century^ from 1800 to 
1810; with statistical tables^ and a new map by the 
author ; containing all the late discoveries^ and exhibit' 
ing the division of Territorial sones^ boundary lines^ 
<&c. by Le Chevalier Felix de Beaujour^ ancient member 
' of the Tribunate^ late French Consul Oeneral in the 
tJnited States^ author of the view of the commerce of 
Greece^ &c. &c. Translated from the French^ with 
illustrative notes and appendix. By William WaUon^ 
Esq. London^ 1814, 8vo. pp, 36d. 

Nations resemble individuals in one respect, they ate 
in their youth jealous and irritable on the subject of the 
opinions the world entertains of them ; and are very apt to 
resent with great warmth reflexions, which acquired eitpe- 
rience, matured dignity, and greater knowledge of human 
character, justified them in passing by with indiflerence or 
contempt. Few nations have received more provoca- 
tions from travellers than the United States ; these have 
sometimes created, greater irritation than suclti attacks 
should, have excited, when it is considered from what 
sources they comoionly originated. A certain degree of 
feeling, however, on this subject is not without salutary 
effects. Since a proper susceptibility on the score of 
national character, may inspire others with respect for what 
is watchfully defended, and in the mutual intercourse now 
existing between nations, the professed libellers of ano- 
ther nation may be brought to shame in their own, by a 
manly exposition of their calumnies. It has been our lot 
to be extravagantly extolled, or coarsely misrepresented ; 
the latter CQurse has been the one pursued by almost every 
English traveller, and by moat recent French writers. We 
took up this book with some curiosity to see what would 
be the tone of the author, and if this be not perfectly satis- 
factory^ to those who are very anxious for praise, it has in 



I«15.) United States of North-Amentu. ^ 

tome degree disappointed us to find in tbe joint production 
of a Frenchman, and an Englishman, we are neither treated 
with scurrility, nor constant misrepresentation. The notes 
added by the Translator, are long and numerous, he seems 
to be tolerably well acquainted with the country ; on politi- 
cal questions he justifies the conduct of his own government, 
bat without rancour, and though the ^ar existed at the 
time, his observations are delivered generally in a tone of 
good temper and moderation. 

M. de Beaujour's work, which appeared last year, was 

composed in 1810, and ought, he says in his preface, to have / 

appeared in that year; the translator declares that the 

reason, why it was not published previously, was because 

it contaii^d neither flattery of the Imperial Government, 

nor spoke with sufficient asperity of England, both of which 

were necessary to obtain an imprimatur. The author re- 

. marks that he has observed the country ' less in itself than 

I Mn Its relations with other nations; because my principal 

* object was to be useful to my own, to which my whole 

'endeavours were directed. It would consequently be 

'wrong to impute to me prejudices, either in favour of, or 

'injurious to the Americans. I have neither wished to praise 

'them, in order to pass censure on some nations, or disparage 

'them to flatter the pride of others ; for I have candidly 

'described whatever I found good or bad amongst them, as 

'a means of inducing them to correct their own vices, as 

'well as to lead other nations to imitate their virtues. Such 

'has been my object, and this wi!l at ail times serve as an 

'excuse, if any thing should have escaped me that may 

'bear the appearance of severity.' 

The work is described in the author's own words as 
follows ; ^ This sketch is divided into five chapters ; in the 
'first of which, I describe the physical aspect of the 
^United States; in the second their political state; in the 
* third and fourth, their commercial relations with the prin- 
^cipal nations of Europe, particularly with France and 
'England; and in the fifth, 1 briefly display their political 
'relations with the various nations of the world.' 

The first chapter describing * the physical aspect of the 
I United States' is destitute of novelty. The facts and 
j ideas are mostly from /Mitchell and Maclure and YoU 
oey. We shall select one passage from this chapter^ as a' 
^erj finished ei^ample of the art oi generalising. 



fO VnitedSHaiiB C^oti 

* In the CJnited Stutes, ever^ Ihing ifill bears the stam^ 
' df a new countr/, where the haad ef nan has not yet peiv 
'fected the work of nature. The tj€ in rain seeks out 

* those varied and fertile fields, thart neat and brilliadf ap 
^pearance which, Jn Eiurope, eTerr where strikes thi 

* traveller ; no country in the world pftsents so sad and 

* wild an aspects 

< An eternal forest^ cut only ilito clear spaces or flbtertab^ 

* in which hamlets are placed ; sown fields or ponds | 

* streams intersecting this forest in various dire^ions, and 
' all descending from the double chain of the Allegfaanys } 

* to the wedt of these mountains, small sWamps Which issna 
^into the large one where the Mississippi flows ; to tht 
^ east, a low and level coasts scattered over with marshei^ 
'and on this same coast, six large' towns, and an infinite 

* number of small ones, ail built of brick, or wooden planki^ 

' painted in different colours ; on every side, massfve and i 
' lofty trees or forests of shrubs which hide the land 9 

* wherever the eye turns, it beholds an hideous soil and 
'coarse atmosphere ; nature, in short, gloomy and unhar^ 
' monized ; such is the general aspect of ijie whole coun« 
•try. 

' What most strikes the traveller^ who for the first time 
' lands there, is the immensity of the forests^ the extent of 
'the waters, their varied forms, and the movement and 
' colouring they spread over the landscape.' 

Some of the cits whose excursions never exceed a dozes 
miles from their towns, and whose ideas have not even Mi 
Wide a range^ would stare at this picture, which is only 
Calculated for effect. A man who sefs down with the majJF 
before him, to survey the territory of the United States^ 
from the sea coast to the sources of (he Mississippi^ or from 
the Atlantick to the Pacifick,will indeed find that the cultured 
fields bear a small proportion^ to the almost illimitable ex<^ 
tent of forest, like a splendid embroidery on a vast piece of 
drapery. A companion picture might even be found in 
some countries of !£urope, and with certain provinces of 
Germany, Poland and the vast regions of Russia, under 
consideration the cultivation would not contribute much to 
enliven the landscape. The predominance of wood in 
our surface, is almost every where, too great for the com- 
position of beautiful scenery, and this is very striking to 
Europeans, who possess but few forests^ and whose coun- 



of North A 

r Is either a blank desart heatfa, or an exlenslve BurEoct 
R grain i but there are very considerable dislriclB in the 
^ited Slates', irhich alforcl many extensive tracts of fine 
plivation. We are al a loss Id know how the epithet 
Krae can be applied lo the atmosphere. That of Greece 
i the south of Europe, is more generally serene, yet not 
_ * more beautiful, but the atmosphere of the north of 
loce, Id say nothing of more northern parts of Europe, 
mot bear a comparison with ourein point of brilliancy and 
ttaty, 

^e shall make an extract from the second chapter, 

Utiiig f of the political stale of (he United States,' to shew 

kne of ij. de Beaujour's opinions of our govenimenl. 

'(This government has only just made its first appear- 

i on the political scene ; and certainly the first ap- 

trance of a government on the political scene, resem- 

K that of young man in the world. In the first place, 

•his pulse ia felt to see whether he is possessed of courage ; 

'but when he has once established his reputation, he is left 

'quiet, The United Stales would have spared themselves 

'many wars and misfortunes, if they had repelled with 

'force the first injuries done them. Affronts have not 

'been accumulated upon them, till it was evident they did 

*not know how, or did not wish to avenge ihem. Govern- 

'oents ought never to declare war, but with a just cause -, 

•but they ought always to be prepared to carry it on.* 

'The government of the United States, since its inslitu- 

•tiOR, has scarcely evinced any thing else but proofs of 

I ^Vcakness ; and, in future, greater vigour cannot be ex- 

'pected from it, as long as it in conducted by lawyers, a 

I Upec'ies of men the least proper to govern others, because 

I Itbey have nearly all a false judgment and dull character ; 

I 'uid because, with their confined ideas and mean passions, 

I 'they think they can govern empires, in the same manner, 

'u they would govern a club,' 

'Nevertheless, it must b^ confessed in praise of Ibis 

' 'government, that it presents a species of phenomenon in 

'the political world ; and that, like (he band of Providence, 

'it governs without being felt, and almost without being 

'perceived ; for lo know that it exists, it is necessary to 

*' The Americans had not jct declared war against F.nglaQiI inlGIO, 
'"M they liesitated a long time brfore they did it." 



I 



r£ United States [Nor. 

* seek it in the bosom of the woods, and, like certain birds 

* of passage, it disappears in the 6ne season.^ 

* This government, which, in Europe, has the repntaticm 

* of being the most liberal in the world, is, in reality, no 

< more so, than the British government ; and in the United 
' Slates, there is not more real liberty than in England, not- 

. < withstanding there is more apparent freedom. Conse- 

* quentlj, it is this appearance of liberty which most flat- 

* ters the pride of man, as well as his taste for indepen* 

* dence ; and if the great art of governing a people is to 

* hide the chains which they every where drag after them, 

* it must be acknowledged that the American government 

* is the most clever of all others. But, is it not rather to be 

< presumed, that what has been attributed to the cleverness 
<of thb government, is no other than the work of its own 

* weakness ? 

* The American people have hitherto regarded this weak- 

* ness of their government as the surest guarantee of their \ 

* liberty ; but there is still a much more real one in the 
'right of petition, the only resource of the oppressed man ; 

< in the liberty of the press, the greatest possible check to 

* the powerful ;f in the small number of regulars compared 
' to the great number of militia ; and particularly in the 

* constitutional law, which does not permit the army or any 
'portion of Jt to act in the interior, without the interven- 
' lion of the magistracy. This indeed, constitutes the real 

* * The president and ministera generally go to their estates dnriof 

* the harvest, often several hundred leagues from Washington* and do 
' not return till the end of January.' 

f * Without the liberty of the press, the public authority can neither 
' be enlightened or responsible ; and if this liberty has, like all hnmao 

* things, inconveniences, it may be said that, like the lance of Achilles, 

* it heals all the wounds it has caused. This liberty is even more ne* 

* ccssary in monarchies than in republics, because there is alwayt 

* found round every throne, even those on which the best Kings are 

* seated, a cloud of courtiers which prevents the voice of the upright 

* from penetrating to the Monarch. It is indeed the only channel by 

* which the latter can be informed of the public opinion, which sooner 

* or later causes a terrible explosion, whenever, instead of manifestinf; 

* itself by a noble and frank opposition, it ferments in silent darkness. 
' In some countries, attempts have been made to regulate the press, bnt 

* it was found impossible to regulate, without destroying it ; for it h 
*not more possible to punish thoughts before they are prodoced, 

* than actions before they are committed. The operation of the tri^ 

* bunals alone, can repress the abuse of both one and the other.* 



1815.3 0/ North-America. 73 

^safegaard of political liberty.* The army is established 

* to defend the country, with the aid of the militia, against 

* an external enemy ; but it is the magistracy alone, sup- 
' ported by the militia, who ought to defend it within, and 

* maintain interiour tranquillity. 

^ An essential defect in the American government is, that 
*in« itself, it haii no sufficient guarantee against the people. 
'If an attempt was made to perfect this government, it 

* would be necessary to strengthen it, and balance its pow- 
ders ia a better manner, in order to maintain them in a more 
'perfect equilibrium.f An executive power with more force; 
'a senate composed of permanent members, J to protect 
Mhe people against the executive power, and the executive 
'power against the people; a representative body, com- 
' posed of great freeholders ;|| of great freeholders for judges 

I * * I have not thought it necessary in this place to speak of the Hor 
^beas Corpus, without which there can be no civil liberty ; because this 
'law does not guarantee individual liberty ; and because it is common 
'to both Americans and English, as well as to other free nations.' 

t *The powers of the United States are well separated, but badljr 
'balanced ; consequently, it is in the separation and equilibrium of 
'powers, that the art of constituting a state principally consists.' 

I * The senate ought not to be composed of hereditary members, but 
'where the chief of the government is himself hereditary ; otherwise, 
'the equilibrium would be broken, and the senate would degrade or 
'overturn the throne, as has already happened in Poland.' 

D * The American Legislative Body not being composed of large free* 
'holders, it has been necessary to grant to the members of Congress, an 
'indemnity for the time of the session. It is, however, well known, 
'that it is not advisable, in any country, to pay the representatives of 

* the nation, Jbecause every man who receives a salary from the ezecu- 

* ti?e power, becomes its valet, and never its overseer ; since such a 
'man would never like to displease the executive power, for fear of los- 
*uig his salary by the dissolution of the representative body. Besides, 
' the representatives of the nation being essentially destined to vote 
'imposts, and to watch over their expenditure, they cannot give to the 
'execotive power, and at the same time receive from it ; for with what 
'&ce could they dare refuse tributes which they themselves are to 
'share ? Add to this, that by not paying the representative body, the 
'election intrigues of the candidates are prevented, who generally seek 
'to^ide the stairs of the nation for their own advantage ; thus also is 
' individual ambition disconcerted, and by giving the greatest influence 
*to property, the emulation of all is excited, because all, even the 
'poorest, can attain property by means of labor. Moreover, it ought 
'to be the object of every government to encourage labor, which it 
'the source of national riches and of public happiaess. 

Vol.11. No. 4. la 



74 UfUed IStai€8 [Not. 

'and magistrates ; and, finallj, a legislative code, clear and 
' precipe, in order to get rid of the vermin of lawyers ;— « 
' such are the improvements which the Americans ought to 

* introduce into their government and administration^ TbejT 

* ought never to forget, that governments have been essen* 
' tially established to protect propert}', and that the best 

* of all is that which protects it most.' 

The first remark on reading this extract, will be made 
by every one, that the reflections are intended, as well aa 
some others in the work, to bear as much upon French, as 
on American politicks. What a hint is given in the sentence^ 
where he observes, that affronts were not accumulated on 
our government, till it was found, that they either did not 
know how, or did not wish to avenge them ! How power* 
fully and how painfully does such a remark, coming from 
a French diplomatist, employed in our country, recall the 
pusilanimous councils, the impolitick forbearance, that sub- 
milted for so long a time, a continued series o( Imperial in- 
solence and injustice. M. deBeaujour is a great enemy of 
lawyers, and reasons from an idea formed of them in Eu- 
rope. It has there been often remarked, that lawyers are 
bad legislators ; that their views are narrow, and their 
judgment on great state measures often erroneous ; but, ill 
Europe, the law is a profession, which requires long, intense 
and confined study ; to attain eminence in that profession 
is generally by the sacrifice of literature and science, and i^ 
constant necessity of avoiding all excursive meditations on 
the subjects of history and general politicks, which should 
be the favourite pursuits of a statesman. Their tenurei 
are so complicated, their precedents so numerous, their 
cases so intricate, and their forms so multiplied and tedious, 
that the labour of half a life is necessary to become a pro- 
ficient. This state of things is felt and regretted by law- 
yers there ; and hence it is, that in .both France and Eng* 
land, they are little considered as statesmen ; in the former 
country many of the faults of the revolutionary legislatures 
were attributed to them, and in the latter it is extremely 

'In short, the first priaciple of all wise economy is, not to pay for 
' what can be had gratiiiiously . Can it then be teared, that amongst tiia 
'large freeholders of a nation, there would not be found a sufficient' 
'number of disinterested citizens, desirous of representing it in tto. 
' legislatiTe body, at the same time» that they will be remunerated by 

* public consideration V 



IS15.} of North-Americu. 75 * 

vncommon for a lawyer to distinguish himself, or indeed to 
interfere in parliamentary debate except on mere questions 
of law. But, in this country, the situation is in some de* 
gree different, many men in publick life are called lawyers, 
who have done little more than read the elementary books of 
the science, and practised just enough to acquire the habits 
of busmess ; perhaps there cannot be a better foundation for 
political life. But, we believe, with very few exceptions, 
that among the legal characters who have in this country 
tDgaged in political life, ihou^u they may have been able 
advocates, they have not been very learned in the law ; and 
timt our profound lawyers have either never meddled with 
political employments, or at least have early abandoned 
them* 

The remark on Ihe adroitness of our government in con- 
cealing its power, or rather attributing it to its weakness, is 
a very natural one to be made by a foreigner. It is one of 
tke first things that strikes, and indeed almost confounds an 
iaielligent European on coming to the United States, that 
ke DO where sees the government, and the appearances are 
10 different from what he has habitually witnessed, that he 
is apt to distrust the security of that organization, of which, 
he no where beholds the trappings or the ensigns. In 
BoBarchical countries, it is part of the scheme of that form 
ef government to discover their power, and make it as im- 
posing as possible— «very branch of military and civil em- 
jdoy has its livery, and it becomes the policy of the sove- 
Rign, that it should be always worn, to impress both his own 
lobjects and strangers with the idea of his power. Eng- 
jaad in some points offers an exception to this rule, which 
i( owing partly to the more independent habits of the peo- 
ple, and partly to the fear of the government at exciting 
popular jealousy by too glaring a display of its dependents. 
Thus a Peer in England adopts no particular costume, and 
leidom wears his star, except when in full dress. The dis- 
tioctive mark in the costume of the clergy out of the pulpit, 
cosaists only in a very trifling modification of the hat. No 
Bulitary or naval officer, in London, is suffered to appear in 
Ui unUform, except those belonging to the small detachment 
^ the guards on duty, who perhaps do not exceed ten or 
tfteen, and these do not go from their stations. Hardly a 
^tige of an army is to be seen ; and yet^ if those who walk 
^ streets, at the west end of the town^ appeared in their 



1% Pn tfu pleasure derived from [Not, 

,Our ))ddies pot tn^reljfr to do business and pre3erTe healtb^ 
|[)ut because the exerpise is itself an epjo jment. It is tb^ 
3apie with the mind, Wh&teTer gives it action, wbateyer 
awakens it to effort| is welcomed as a source of happinesSt 
Whoever thinks that happiness consists ip the r^ose, tb^ 
Iq^ptipn of the mind, rather Ijian in its efibrts * is li]^e thf; 
tm^n whp should make the horses in his coacl} stand atiUf 
f because be could hold the reins more easily.' 

We might offer a fuHher illustration of the pleasure d^. 
f|ve(| from some scenes qf distress, by the operation of n 
sppsfe QfjtisticCy and of the propriety of retribtitiQn* Paiii 
fifajr be inflicted either as a punishment, as a motive t<» 
f^fbrpoaHpn, or as a trial of character for future reward^ . {n 
any pf these relations, the mind looks at the wisdoip aD4 
(leneyplenpe of the object, and is thus reconciled tp tb^ 
paip, put this view of the subject does not belpng to opf 
plan pf treating it? 

In regard to imagiaary scenes pf distress, the repiarks 
^iready pi^de about those which are real, are generally ap^ 
plicablCf But to these we must add the interest and de? 
lig;ht which result from the genius, taste, and feeling of the 
writer, We probably weep mpre generally apd easily ovef 
(n^iginary distress, or simple and natural descriptions c^ 
tlie sufferings of generous mipds, than pver distress which 
|s real and present, In the real apd present distress of 
pthcrs, especially among the popr, there are pften circumt 
sitanqes of coarseness, vulgarity, deception, and selfishnesii 
irliich disgust u», wltich weaken the fprce of symnathyi 
^nd leave us to act more from a sense of duty than from 
impulse. The mind is employed in devising the means of 
relief, pf alleviation, or of correction. It has the spirit of 
l>^s^ne88 to check its sensibility. Duty and example ofteor 
require habitual selfrcommand, and forbid any outward ext 
libitipn of weakness, or what might be considered as such, 

|ut ip ifpagipary distress, or in the descriptions of suffering^. 
t|ie circumstances are all selected and arranged fpr the purr 
ppse of sentimental effect. Whatever would mar the iHr 
fefest is excluded. Ail the sentiments expressed are noble 
ppd disinterested, or selfish and dishonourable, according 
fp the wants and wishes of genius, and the fprce of control 
tp heighten the description. The mind pf the reader 19 

ffft peffectly free from the responsibility pf action, and mar 
fi(|fj1g(e ifif (i^Iipgs apd jt^ tears without the chep^ vW\ 



iii5,] tliiinessing atines of Dlslriss^ 67 

die task of business dr relief wduld imposei It'hat doe stiduld 
tfcep over a novels or a tragedji and not at the suSerings 
of the podr around himj at the sorrows of thd bereaved, or 
the distress of the persecuted^ is no prdd^ df thci want ot 
lensibi^ty. lie who is most efficient td discover and 
rtlieve the wants df the cdmniunity^ is ndter the man of 
tears, while discharging the great duties df philanthropy* 
Unt p[Bce the same generdnS benefactdr^ afte> H day spent 
lii active benevolence, at the fireside df his parlour^ sur- 
tMinded by his family, reading a well wrought tile df wo^ 
tad ini eyes will fill with tears at the sympathetick turns 
tff the ilfory^ and the disinterested sentiments of cffflicted 
▼irtifei 

lit a review df dui* remarks upori this subject^ (he pleasure 
Mich we dei^ive from scenefs of disti'ess both in real life, and 
m the works of fiction, appears to arise from sympathy^ 
fetal Ctfridsity, from the love oi* ndveUy, from our attach- 
ment td strong emotions and excitements^ from the valuable 
md practical end which our interest in the distress of 
stlient proiridtes, from the developement df our faculties 
ttd the formation of character^ from mental exercise gener- 
My, from a sense of justice and retribution, from the ided 
jf a probation in order io deserve a future reward, from 
mv^tion and skill in the productions of genius, and front 
Hic wcial and generous nature of our passions; 



76 UniUd SiaitB ^aw^ 



professiooal dress, almost half the population wonU be teea 
in a military or naval costume. In this country it has been 
owing more to accidental habit, than design, that there are 
no distinctions of dress in our streets. A military or imh 
val button are now occasionally seen ; but a few years BiDGe, 
there was not even a cockade displayed, to indicate that 
thepeople had either government or police. 

The author's remarks on the pay of representatives may 
be easily answered, and perhaps all of them refuted. The 
question has been much delated, and we are not singular in 
allowing to our representatives a salary for their services ; 
so long as this pay is not extravagant, it perhaps takes i» 
reality the middle ground. It would indeed be excessively 
noxious, if it were as M. de Beaujour seems to suppose, ac*' 
corded by the executive, but it is well known to be a pro* 
vision of the constitution, and a question over which the 
execufjive depitrtment has no direct control. The objec** 
tions to our government have been often made, but we are 
disposed to be rather incredulous on the score of theoretick 
improvements. Experience has shewn, that some of the 
most monstrous systems of government have endured (of 
ages, while others of great apparent perfection, have peiw 
ished in premature decrepitude. Our national existence is so 
recent, it forms such a very minute portion of that career ci 
existence, which we trust it is destined to pursue, that we caiH 
not speak with great confidence of the future, from the brief 
experience of the past ; yeiy so far as we can form an opin- 
ion from what has been, we are encouraged to smile at 
sinister predictions. It has received some slight alterations, 
perhaps not all of them advantageous ; but on the whole it 
has nearly survived the generation that made it, and in its 
progress has hitherto required no more adjuslment or fitting, 
than what the best built ship, or carriage, will demand, on a 
first voyage, or journey, Whatever may have been the* 
errours of administration, there is a saving virtue in the 
constitution itself, that has hitherto preserved it from essen- 
tial deterioration. The difficulty of effecting any change^ 
is a striking proof of its strength. There is hardly a state 
in the Union, which has not proposed amendments ; somo 
of these seemed plausible and salutary, many of them were 
warmly urged and ably supported, and yet how few bavi9 
been adopted ? In short, there may be better forms, ther^ 
are certainly worse ; we belong to that party who are irt^ 



»f Nortb-Amtrirti. 

Uched lo this, and our feeling fowarils il, may be very con- 
c'wely expre:iat:d, esto perpettia. 

The deecriplioD of our Iowgs seems iiiiparlial, and cer- 
tualy is not flullering ; a traveller disposed lo praise 
night have said inoie in iheir favour. Though it may ruffle 
Ibe vanity of some of our cockneys, we eliall extract hit 
remarks upon Ihcm ; Ihe Phiiadelpbians will he shucked at 
bU descriplioDi ihe cits of N<fw York will resent his sneer 
at Dutch archileclure, and ihe Boslonians will regret ihat 
he should h»ve said nothing of Iheir beautiful environs. 
We may, however, allacb more value lo what be has coni- 
tnernJed, since he is bo parsimonious of praise. 

'The towns of the United Slates are not so handsome or 
'splendid as those of Europe, bj.it they are more airy and 
'ipacious, and almost all decorated with trees and gardens, 
'irhich gives ihem ihe aspect and agreeableness of the 
'tounlry. Even in some of ihem, the houses are not con- ' 
'tiguoua, which makes Ihem resemble some of our hamlets. 
' Philadelphia is not, as il has been called, ihe most beau- 
'tiful city of Ihe world, but it is Ihe most remarkable for 
'the regularity of lis slreels, and the cleanliness of it» 
'bouses. It is situated between Ihe Delaware and the 
'Schuylkill, six miles above iheir conBnence, and 120 mile* 
'fa>ni the ocean. It forms a great parallelogram, extending 
Ihe other, and is cut, like a chess-board, 
1^ right angles. All Ihe streets and houses resemble each 
L<'«lher ; and nothing is so gloomy as this uniformity, unless 
, *j| is Ihe sadness of the inhabitants, Ihe greatest part of 
'!^lu>ni are of the Quaker or Puritan sect. 
t ' New York has a more smiling aspect, and appears more 
'^ke an European town. It is built al the entrance of the 
'Hudson, on a strip of land extending between the river 
Uod the sonndof Long-Island, and which has been sepa* 
'rated by a cut from The main land. The esplanade called 
'Ibe Battery, standing on Ihe salient angle formed by Ihe 
'Hudson and Ihe sea in their junction, presents one of Ihe 
'mast beautiful points of view thai can be imagined. 

'Baltimore and Boston have all Ihe appearance of Eng- 
'Jiih towns. The first, which has been built on a sudden, 
.*H\i, ae it were, by enchantment, is situated on the Chesa- 
■ the embonclinre of Ihe Pefapsco ; and the 
entrance of Charles River, on Ihe small pe- 



7U Uniitd SKWev [N«r. 

'oinsula of Massachusetts, coimected by aMnow atrl^ 

* with the main land. 

' Charleston^ New Orleans and Norfolk, bear anotliev 
' aspect, and resemble more the towns of the West iDdiei. 

* Charleston is built on the confluence of the Cooper and 

* Ashley rivers, which, six miles below, fail into the se% 
^and form by their junction, a large canal, or long ancbor- 
^ ing ground, at the entrance of which is 8ulUvan*8 lalaad 

* and Fort. 

^ New Orleans and Norfolk are situated, the first on the 
Meft bank of the Mississippi, 120 miles from its entrance 
*into the Mexican Gulf; and the other, on ihe right bank 
^of the Elizabeth River, five miles above its embouchure . 

* into the Chesapeake Bay. 

* Boston, New York and Baltimore, which appear to 
'issue out of the bosom of the waters, and gradually rise on 
' an unequal surface, at a distance present an agreeable 
'prospect ; but nothing can be more hideous than the out* 
' side and approaches of Philadelphia, Norfolk, Charleston 
' and New Orleans, built on low and level land, in the midaf 

* of water and mire. 

m 

* All these towns are built of brick and painted planks, 
' and, with the exception of a few edifices destined for the 
'use of public banks, nothing is meaner than their architect 

* ture ; it is the Dutch order coupled with the Chinese style, 
' if we may be allowed to give that denomination to so gro- 
' tesque a fashion.' 

Some observations are made on our military ayttetti, 
which has undergone various modifications since the work 
was composed. He thinks we cannot be safe on a defen^ 
sive system, with a navy of less than ten sail of the line, and 
an army of 25,000 men. That volunteers and gun boats, 
have all the inconveniences of a fleet and army, without any 
of the advantages attending them. That our system of 
fortification is bad, that most of the forts are placed with- 
out judgment, and are too small and imperfect, and that 
there is not in the whole country a strong fortress or depot 
capable of arresting an army. He says, that the United 
Stales are vulnerable on a great number of points, and mor* 
tally so on three ; Rhode Island, New York and the Ches- 
apeake ; that since the acquisition of Louisiana, the sontiB-' 
ern states are secure against invasion* That it is in tb^ 
power of the English to invade us with a large army froff* 



ItlKJ of North-America. 79 

Ganad^, paming throagh Lake Ghamplain to the Hudson^ 
while another armj laoding at New York, would unite with 
it aad cut off the whole country east of the Hudson. This 
latter plan has been attempted in two different wars, and 
without BuccesB, and we suspect will never be tried again. 
No natioD will go to war with us, who is not our superiour 
at sea^ and it is not probable that any scheme of conquest 
wiilererbe undertaken. We shall be harassed with petty 
expeditions and invasions, and our surest defence against 
these ia a respectable maritime force, of all others the most 
useful to OS without, and the least dangerous within. As all 
parties appear now to be convinced of this truth, we shall 
not dwell on the abortive projects, and the costly experi- 
ence, nor on the gallant actions which have produced the con- 
viction. After his observations on our military system, he 
proceeds to remarks on our * Police, manners, religion, and 
'aspect of the country, under moral and political relations,' 
a part of which we shall extract. 
* But if the Americans have a bad system of external de- 

* fence, their internal system of police is not better. Their 

* legislation is an uncouth iqixture of English laws and par- 
^ticnlar customs, which each one can interpret in his own 
'way ; and which in reality, is only adapted to support an 
'in6nite number of litigating lawyers, at the expense of the 
'people. One would imagine, on beholding the obscurity 
'ind forms of this legislation, that it had only been created 
'for bankrupts and lawyers, two classes of men to whom all 
'others in the United States seem to have been sacrificed. 
'There the merchant, who usually puts the whole of his 
'property into trade, and who, in order to increase his 
'profits, also frequently includes that of others, by regulat- 
'inshis expenses according to his presumed profits, in- 
'ifeadof his real income, frequently fails, and is consider- 
'ed liberated with regard to his creditors, as soon as he has 
'sworn before the law, that he has not a shilling to pay 
'them. There the same law that punishes forgery, ab- 
'(M^lves the man who si;ins an obligation he can never fulfil ; 
'but even supposing that a bankrupt is not to be blamed 
'foi* not paying his debts, he is at least in the wrong for 
'fatving contracted them, when he knew he might incur the 
' roBponiibili ty of paying them. The bankrupt law in that 
'country seems framed to enrich the bankrupts, whilst the 
'other laws appear enacted for the exclusive advantage of 
*the lawyers. 



so UnUed Afolet (Nor. 

* Hence we may judge of the police of a people, who in* 
' cessantlj fear becomiDg a prej to bankrupts, and who are 
' continually tormented by the chicaneries of iawyen, aa 
< one would be by the pricks of a pin. This people will 
'never enjoy all. the advantages of their political institu- 
' tions, till they have simplified and perfected their Jurispru- 
' dence. 

' The Americans are so new a mixture of such a number 
'of nations, that hitherto they have acquired no public 
'spirit or national character. — Their political opinions 
' savour of those common to all the people from whom they 
'are derived ; and as the greatest part of them are of Ekig- 
' lish origin, they have brought over with them to America 
' all the elements of discord which agitate their parent coun- 
' try. In each state, they are divided into fwo grand par- 
' ties, similar to those of the Whigs and Tories ; and what 
' is most to be regretted is, that neither of these parties 
' knows precisely what it wants, or at least does not adopt 
' the means to obtain it. 

' The democratic or republican party, composed of the 
' most numerous class of the people, ought to seek the fre- 
'quency of elections, the rotation of the offices, andrespon- 
' sibiHty of those employed ; but the leaders of this party 
' seek only to maintain power in the hands of the multitude, 
'in order to secure it for themselves. 

^ The aristocratiral party, or, as it is there called, the 
'federal party, composed of the richest classes of. the in- 
' habitants, seeks to concentrate power, and to take it out 
'of the hands of the multitude, in order to render it less 
' dependent, and to give greater strength to those there- 
' with invested ; but, in order to concentrate power, it 
' would be first necessary to obtain it, and this party dis- 
'dains its possession. 

' The democrats unceasingly cry out against distinctionSy 
' at the same time that they are seeking after them ; and in 
' that country, as well as every where else, they are hy- 
' pocrite:^, who agitate and caress the multitude, for the 
' purpose of living at its expence.' 

' The federalists seek distinctions in riches ; and as they 
' cannot find them in any thing that is continually changing 
' hands, they would prefer institutions which would class 
^ each rank, and render power unchangeable. 




of North' America. 

' The Democrafick party wishes no taxation on lands, 
' iB, by fixed and secure in]|)osl9,its abettors npprehend 
lliving too much consistency to ivovenimenl. They only 
iKeIc Ibe variable impost of cns^orns, and care nol whether 
M ijiminishes or even fails as long as a foreign war is likely 
) take place. 

' Tiie Federal party feels the necessity of lerrilorial (axes, 
n order (o render ihe governinenl independent ef external 
licevents; and would be pleased with an imposing army and 
tflmvy. It Tffould also wi»b thai the people, tranquil within, 
'ahould carry their inquietude wilhoiil, and it unceasingly 
'preaents to them, as a prev, somelimes Canada, and ihea 
'Mexico. 

' The Democrats appear most attached lo France, and 
' Ae Federalists to England ; but the truth is, they neither 
Move one or (he other, and are entirely absolved in theni- 
' selves and (heir parly. The errour of the Federalists is, in 
'appearing attached to a foreign government, which from , 
' being composed of elements of discord, can only perpelu- 
I "*»le them in theirs. The Democrats only appear fond of 
♦ France, because the Federalists display attachment to 
ffilngland. 

t ' It Would be difBcuIt to predict which of Ihe two partiei 
'''VW gain the ascendancy, because the physical slrenglh 
^reiides in one, and all Ihe InBiience of moral causes in the 
tt'Olher. The mass of the people h Republican -, but in the 
l^aristocralical party, are all the large freeholders, rich 
i^CsfritalislB, merchants, and especially those who trade 
*%llh British capitals, the persons interested in the banks 
^Wid poblic funds, in short all the timid men who prefer 
•■♦ifce calm of social life to the storms of liberty. It i> 
^besides under the banners of (his party, if ever the gov- 
'mtment acquires a greater degree of strength, that all the 
"jmbKc agents will range themselves, as well as those who 
Viapire to the same rank ; and to these will be added Ihe 
•members of the judiciary body, who seek to judge the 
"^people without being subject to its judgment, and also all 
'the conductors of the finance, who seek to squeeze Ihe 
*nii1titade, without being exposed to its fury. — This party 
*|ni one advantage, it has a determined object ; this is, lo 
^ tinpose on the Americans something substantial, in like 
'manner thai is has already imposed on (hem the forms of 
' the British Coiislilulion ; and it struggles to alienate them 
Vol. n. No. 4. 11 



I 



^^ VnUed Stai€M [Nar. 

from France, in order to leave them a prej to the entire 
influence of England. Those who are of this party, in- 
ceskantly rail at their government, their institutions, even 
their habits, and conceive there is nothing excellent but 
in Europe, and with them the whole of Europe is com- 
prised in the little corner of England. 

* Tile other party only sustains itself by its mass, and is 
guided only by its instinct. 

* These two parties are always at variance, and they will 
quarrel on, till one has crushed the other, or given a master 
to both.' 

* The Americans of all parties by their moderation, ought 
to strive to guard against so fatal an event, and enjo^ as 
long as they can, that degree of liberty which is com- 
patible with their institutions; but, they can never ade« 
quately enjoy this degree of freedom, till they agree to 
be governed by wise and enlightened men ; for real liberty 
can onl V exist in those places where wise and enlightened 
men govern the people, and where the people have suffi- 
cient good sense to suffer themselves to be governed by 
them. 

' At present, the parties in their opinions only agree in 
one point, which is in the elevated idea they have of them- 
selves and of their nation ; for the Americans have hardly 
less national vanity than the oldest people of Europe. 
Unable, like the latter, to boast of what they ha\e been, 
since they have themselves just made their appearance 
on the scene of the wqrld, they boast of what they are 
one day destined to become. In their existence they 
neither consider the past or the present ; and, rending with 
a bold hand the veil which covers futurity from human 
eye, they contemplate afar off the brilliant destines which 
await them ; they fear not the vicissitudes of fortune, and, 
before-hand, point out the period when they are to become 
the first nation of the world. The best informed among 
them, as well as all the rest, already flatter themselves 
with these illusions ; and with the compass in the hand^ 
they measure their future grandeur by the extent of their 
vast territory ; and seem to be ignorant, that the largest: 
empires of Asia are now scarcely known, whilst the names 
of Sparta and Athens, which only occupied a small corner 
of Greece, are still associated with every idea that w^ 
have of grandeur and glory. 



* Ffi fact, the several states canoot have the same political 
'npiiiions, because their interests ^re opposed. Tlie states 
' boi'ilering on the Atlantic, seek to sacrifice every thing to 
'commerce and navigation, without which they wonlil not 
'be able to fiubsial ; and those of the interior wiith that 
' every thing should be sacrificed to agricnltiire, the piloci- 
'pal cherisber of nalions. The northern states would wil- 
'iingly ealablish liberty on every side, while those of the 
'south seek to maintain slavery among themselves. IVith 
'such opposite pretensions, the several slates can never 
'possess the same public spirit. 

' The A.nericans have no more stability in Iheir character 
'ttian in their opinions. Bach state, nay almost each dis- 
'Irict, has dilferenl manners; and in these there are none 
'of those general and striking resemblances, which give to 
'a whole people a pirlicular colour and adislinct physiog- 
'nomy. The people of the United Stales possess Ihe 
'habits of every other people; but liiey have hilherlo 
' none of their own. The cliraate alone has modified Ihese 
' babils ; but their instllutions have nol yet blended them. 
' In the northern states the inhabitants are bold and enler- 
' prizing, inconstant and light in the middle stales, and heed- 
'less and lazy in those of the south. A Bostonian would 
' go in search of his fortune to the bottom of Hell; a Vir- 
'giiiian would not go across the road lo seek it. An inha- 
'bitant of New- York, Philadelphia, or Baltimore can never 
^lie cooleni, if during his life time, he has nol changed his 
^trofession Ih-eeorfoiir times. 

' In traversing the United Stales from norlh lo sonlh, as 

Ihe Htidson, we find English manners, and fre- 

^eiitly with Ihe same stilfness that distinguishes ihem in 

" i north of Scotland; but this stitiTness disappears be- 

. iKeen the Hudson and Ihe Potomac, and parlicularly in 

'Pennsylvania and Maryland, where ihe Germans, Irish, 

'anj even Ihe French, have introduced into English 

'muners a thousand ditfereni shades. It is not lilt we 

'wach the »ther side of the Potomac, that Ihese manners, 

flMrongly tinctured wilh those of the West Indies, appear 

J ftitirely changed ; and whether it is that ihis change 

WM derived from the influence of the climate or negro 

■'ikvery, it IS not ihe less sen^iible in every usage of life. 

^'TfiRre trade is enlirely given up lo foreiajners, and agri- 

-'cullure abandoned lo slaves, whilst Ihe proprietor, ui^p 



I 



94 Uniiid Stafm [NfT. 

^ the stateljr name of planter, attends to nothiqg b|it hii 
^ pleasures. The life of this proud being i3 a coQlinued 

* scene of indolence and disipation. Horse races and 
^ cock fights are his foTorite diversions, and fill the tunie be 
' does not employ ifi these noisj amusements, be pasaiss 

* round a table either gaming or drinking. fLe tjbjiik^ be is 

* under no obligation to work, becau^ his sUv^ work far 

* him. 

* But in the interior of the country, wd on the other 

' side of the Alleghany, men are to be met with morfe labo- 

, * rious and of more simple manners;' and notwithstanding 

' this simplicity has been changed in some districts, by the 

* perpetual mixtures of new settlers with the old one^, mao- 
^ ners are there generally more pure than in the oth^r parts 
^ of the United States.* 

The translation is in some places careleie, as for example 
in the pages just quoted, there is mention of nations having 
^ a particular colour ^ this is a French expression, it is not 
English ; the equivalent of the French phrase, may he 
rendered a marked^ or peculiar character* M. de Beas- 
jour is a passionate enemy of lawyers, there is even a d^rte 
of personal asperity on the subject that resembles revenge 
for some previous injury. His account of the state of 
bankruptcy in the United States is a monstrous exaggera- 
tion ; he says in another place, * that bankruptcy in the 

* commercial towns, is the shortest and surest road to 
^ fortune.' The system of bankrupt laws is one of the most 
delicate and difficult in the whole field of legislation ; to 
maintain the medium which avoids cruelty to honest misfor- 
tune, or protection to fradulent avarice, requires the greatest 
i^kill in the lawgiver, and after all can never be attained 
so completely, as to prevent frequent instances of both. It 
is to be regretted, that we have no common system in the 
United States, but we doubt if complaints on this subject 
are more frequent here than in Europe, al least it is tnie 
that they are very common both in France and Ei^land, 
and their laws on the subject are exposed to constant revF 
sion. In the mean time it is downright rant and absurdity, 
to consider bankruptcy the avenue to fortune in any 
country. 

In the author's remarks on our political state there is a 
mixture of &ct and errour, of shallowness and sagacity. 
jl^iiDgle moment's reflectioii would have sappresaed the 



of North-Amtrica. 

Merration, that we owe our parlies to imporlation, and (hat 
e are divided, because Ihe counir}' IVoni nlieiice »e came 
bifiUed wilh parlies. When we planted ihe lieeof liberty 
ae, no naturalist would atlribute ha' leaves 1o its being 
tporied ; but at the lime of the operation be would have 
redicted, that it must «tther perish like tliose in France, 
^ Ooarisb according to its siluulion and culture. He con- 
tadiela himaelf in saying, firet, that the two parties neither 
jFlheni know what Ihey want, and afterwards that the Fede- 
klials have a great advantage in having a positive object in 
lis latler idea is perhaps as great a mistake, as 
e assertion, that the Federal party are constantly insti- 
ling the nation to Ihe attack of Canada and iVIesico. 
I In describing Ihe political principles and conduct of 
^lies in free countries, two monosyllables should always 
le added, in and oiU. It would be an interesting investiga- 
1 to consider Ihe resemblance, between parlies in this 
Uinlry and those of England. The Federalisls originally 
id Bonie things in common with the parly now in power 
bEugland. This parly, who during the long reign of Ihe 
■resent King have been out of place but two or thi'ee times, 
Md then for very short periods only, when out, never op- 
fDsed Ihe government, but in a very partial degree; Ihey 
Ivaya maintained a conduct but ill suited to keep alive an 
fepoailion, as their vote was still given to moat of Ihe 
easwes of the government. The Federalists, when they 
4 ir«Dt out ofplace, pursued nearly the same course; 
Ky vere long engaged in a contest for upholding establish- 
ota, which gave strength to the nation. Though they 
1 loBf Ihe administration, Ihey seemed still the patrons 
i protectors of the government. Their rivals, in seeking 
lepiiiarily, began a series of innovating, destructive mea- 
llres, abortive experiments, and puerile syRlems, that 
^ced the Federalists in Ihe situation of people, who, turned 
Oat of a palace, were doing their utmost to prevent those 
who bad taken their place, from defacing its ornumenls and 
weakening its walls. When the progress of a very few 
years produced all the consequences that had been pre- 
dicted from these ruinous innovations, and imbecile schemes ; 
>nd forced Ihe administration to endeavour, under disad- 
l|«nnlages which their own vicious course of policy had cn- 
i-ed, to re-establish what Ihey had pulled down, army, 
pxy and revenue ; the Federal party sfpod on di&rent 




I 
I 



M Untied States INor. 

ground. They found the nation plunged nnprovidad into a 
war, which thej deprecated, waged with councils thejr 
distrusted, and mismanagement they deplored. They had 
besides suffered under such general proscription and unre- 
lenting persecution, that they had been driven in the nation- 
al legislation, into becoming a regtUar oppositionf and per- 
haps this was the inevitable tendency of circumstancea* 
How far this state of things, which has produced a conside- 
rable change in the position occupied by the two parties^ 
will become permanent, must mainly depend on the aystem 
pursued by the administration. 

M. de Beaujour repeats a remark, which has been made 
by most travellers in our country ; that we have no national 
character, nothing peculiar, a mere undigested mass of vari- 
ous foreign materials ; this assertion we believe to be owing to 
• their ignorance and want of discrimination. Let as dwell 
on this point a moment. Superficial travellers, and, with 
very few exceptions, those who have written on the United 
States, have been of this class, may in a hasty journey 
through the country, and a limited residence in some of our 
cities, particularly if those cities are New- York, Philadel- 
phia and Baltimore, seeing so many Irishmen, Englishmen, 
|i*renchmen and Germans, may suppose that we have no 
peculiar national character, particularly, as they are most 
apt to asHociate with only their own countrymen ; but what 
foundation is this for judging of the people of the United 
States ? M. de Beaujour, and all others but the professed 
libellers, describe us as vain, brave, enterprising, and pas- 
sionately fond of liberty ; that we are coarse, rude, and in- 
quisitive from our habits of equality, and regardless of all 
distinctions but wealth. Here are a mixture of good and 
bad qualities, which we shall neither claim nor deny, but 
which in themselves are sufficient to cause peculiarity. The 
truth is, that with the exception of language, which is almost 
the same throughout the United States, the inhabitants are 
distinguished from each other, though not so stronglv, as a 
Provencal, a Gascon or a Norman, an inhabitant of Devon- 
shire, Yorkshire or Kent, and over all is thrown a veil o€ 
national texture, as there is in France and England. Tho 
extensive intercourse between nations in our times, the uni" 
versality of fashions, and the similar subjects for thinking 
and conversation which have been afforded by the events oi 
the last twenty years, have approximated the habits, andi 



1815*} of Nortk-AmeritiL 37 

terjr considerably blende^ the manners of people of the 
higher classes in all countries ; this has destroyed many 
picturesque effects^ and diminished the resources of the 
novel writer, painter and dramatist. Prominent and stri-' 
king peculiarities cannot be overlooked ; a Friesland pea* 
lant, or a Spanish muleteer, would be noticed by the dullest 
pye and ear ; and perhaps an English farmer, thriving under 
the efiects of malt and beef, could not avoid detection. But, 
these are gross and palpable distinctions. Yet peculiar 
character may exist without these strong exteriour signs. 
We have no peculiarities of dress from that of most modern 
nations of Europe, and we are confounded in language with 
one of Ihe most important. Still to those who are conver- 
sant with our character, and that of other nations, its par- 
ticular traits are easily discerned ; and they are as indelible 
as those of any other nation. We have seen Americans 
who had left their country young, and had been absent thir- 
ty years, and found no difficulty in instantly pronouncing 
upon them; we believe any intelligent American would 
leldom fail in a guess at a countryman, in any part of the 
vorld, a Connecticut man or a Virginian could never escape 
him. 

When the authpr says a Bostonian would go to hell in 
pursuit of a fortune, and a Virginian would not cross the 
road, we are willing to consider it to be only a different 
mode of saying, that the former is intrepid and eager in en- 
terprise, and the latter, from his climate and situation, is less 
active and adventurous. That the inhabitants of the middle 
States are so peculiarly capricious and variable, is only 
thrown In to complete the picture. Perhaps we should here 
remark, that we have not selected those passages, where we 
are spoken of most favourably, because we are not particu- 
larly anxious to repeat our own praises, but those who seek 
for them will find them in the work. 

The following are the conclusion of his remarks on our 
literary character. 
* It may consequently be expected, that the Americans 

* will make great progress in science and the mechanical 

* arts, but the same success cannot be predicted for them in 

* polite literature or the fine arts. Nay, it may even be pre* 

* sumed, that they will never possess, or at least till a very 
•remote period, a particular species of literature, because 
*they have no national language, and because English lite- 



*' rature, lo rich in every braocb^ witt long be able to sup^ 

* ply ibe deficiencj of theirs.' 

* A nation besidei, however enligbtefled it may be, can 
' hardly flatter itself with being possessed of a literature of 

* its own, till it bas obtained a distinctive character, of which 
' that literature becomes the faithful expresaiou ; and it is 

* well known, that the Americans are not hitherto possessed 
^ of this character, since instead of forming a nation of them* 
^ selves, they constitute an amalgamation of several*' 

There are three or four pages on the subject of religion 
in the United States, and his remarks on the effects of ud- 
limited toleration on our habits, are nearly the same Witit 
those made by Talleyrand in his Memoir, and such ^ 
would naturally result from a Catholick education. Ht 
dwells particularly on the Quakers and Unitarians, and, ill 
the fashion of the day, mistakes or misrepresents the tenets 
of the latter ; yet there are one or two observations, that 
without being new, merit their attention. This subject ii 
followed by the following remarks on our manners. 

^ Some writers, and particularly French, have boasted of 

* American manners ; others, especially English, have cried 
' them down. Both have exceeded the due measure* 

* There is in that country as well as in every other, a mix* 

* ture of vice and of virtue ; but the latter appears less attrac** 

* tive than elsewhere, because it is seldom accompanied with 
*' those graces which cause it to be beloved, and the vices are 
' more hideous, because the art of disguising them with a 
^ deceptive exterior is there unknown. The American has a 
^ crudity in his manners, which makes him appear to great 
' disa.dvantage in the eyes of foreigners.' 

^ Hence does it happen, that among the foreigners who 
' have been accustomed to the good society of Europe, 
^ some consider him coarse and unpolished, because he if 
^ devoid of softness in his manners, and delicacy in his sen* 
< timents ; whilst others describe him as haughty and vaiuy 
^ because be esteems nothing but riches and ostentation* 
' In general he pays little regard to merit when surrounded 

* by indigence; and the first question that issues from his 

* moutb, when a stranger is presented to him, is to ask, what 

* is his fortune ? as if to give to each a reception proportioned 

* to hU riches. Names and rank are no illusion to him, 

* and he classes every man without distinction by the same 
^ scale, viz. by that of fortune. 



ISIS.) of North-America. 89 

^ Tiius a residence in the Udited States can never be 
^ pleasing to rich men bred up in good society, nor (o men 
' of science deprived of the gif(s of fortune ; which nniform* 
'I7 gives to foreigners so many prejudices against the conn* 

* trjr. But, even for those who arrive in the United States 
'with the moat simple habits and taste, society has there 
' none of those pleasures it every where else possesses ; and 
' the Siuropean who is condemned to live there, ought to 
' seek in his duties, or in the bosom of his family, the whole 
' of his pleasures. A person lives there in almost as isola- 

* ted a manner as in Turkey ; as if these two countries, 
' which differ from each other in so many points, should be 
' destined to be alike in this particular one. 

^ Not that among the rich class of people there are no 

* assemblies ; yet these have only for object, among the 
' women to drink tea, and among the men, to drink wine 

* and other liquors. The conversation of the latter gene'- 

* rally binges on politicks, or purchases which some pi-opose 
' aod others accept ; for thie American never loses an oppor- 
' tunity of enriching himself. Gain is the subject of all 
' his discourse, and the lever of all his actions ; so that there 
' is scarcely a civilized country in the world, in which there 
' is less generosity of sentiment, less elevation of soul, and 
Mess of those soft and brilliant illusions which constitute 
' the charm or the consolation of life. There a man weighs 
' every thing, calculates all, and sacrifices all to his own in- 

* terest. He lives only in himself and for himself, and re- 
*gards all disinterested acts as so many follies, contemns all 

* talents that are purely agreeable, appears estranged to 
'every idea of heroism and of glory, and in history beholds 
'nothing but the romance of nations. 

* Virtue has always been considered as the principle or 

* the chief spring of all republics ; but that of the Ameri- 

* can republic seems to be an unbounded love of money. 
' This is the effect of the political Equality that reigns there, 
'stod which leaves to the citizens no other distinction than 

* thatof riches, and invites them to fill their coffers by every 
' Qieans in their power. Every thing among them favours 
^this vile cupidity; their disdain for the agreeable arts, 

* Iheir taste for the coinforts of life, their coarse intempe- 

* riQce, which deprive them of all love and activity for 
^ every thing that is not personal*; and in short, even their 

* laws, which by their ambiguity seem to be the seeret 

Vol. II. No. 4. 12 



W United Staies [N<^. 

' accomplices of Traud and bad faith. With them jmif ice is 

* the result of calculation, but never of sentiment. Bhe is 
' deaf to the cries of the wretched, and particularly of the 

* foreigner ; and in the greatest part of their commercial 

* towns, bankruptcy, who would believe it ? is the shortest 

* as well as the surest road to arrive at fortune.' 

' But, although honesty is not the favourite virtue of the 

* American merchants, it is not, as is usually believed in 
^ Europe, entirely banished from among them ; and we still 
' find, even amidst the corruption of their maritime cities, 
' some persons of great uprightness and rigid probity. In 

* the country, and among the villagers embosomed hi the 
^ woods, considerable candour and good faith is to be met 

* with, but in general, good and upright characters are 

* there infinitely rarer than in other parts, and particularly 

* than in the south of Europe, where they shine aimidst 
' the univei >a! depravity that surrounds them, like stars in 

* the obscuriiy of night. 

^ If, however, the Americans have none or few of those 
' eminent qualities which ennoble human nature and cause 
^it to be admired, they have others, which, although more 

* modest, are not less estimable, and which still contribute 
^ more to the happiness of life ; such as the love of free- 

* dom, of industry, ©f order, and of cleanliness.' 

The author then goes on with some mention of our good 
qualities, where we shall not follow him. The translator 
has inserted in this place a note to introduce Talleyrand's 
descriptions of the American wood-cutter and fisherman, 
which are familiar to our readers. These two portraits are 
in the most finished style of that celebrated wit and states* 
man, they are in the language of amateurs, rich and spark- 
lini^, pure, brilliant, exquisite cabinet gems — but then they 
are wholly works of fancy, entirely due to the authoi^s 
brilliant imagination, and magick colouring. The descrip' 
tion of the wood-cutter will more strictly apply to the Eu- 
ropean labourer than to the American, for here a man t* 
commonly a wood-cutter only, preparatory to becoming B 
farmer, and the employment is rarely followed through life * 
in Europe, in the neitrhbouihood of some forests, it is a con- 
stant occupation. But, the portrait of the fisherman is tbe 
most extraordinary, and should serve as a warning to travel- 
wtiters, when so sagacious an observer as the FrencA 
Prince should have been so entirely deceived. He say* 



W5.1 tf NorOirAmtHcm. 91 

with QB^. that excepting the whalers, fishing is an idle em^ 
plojmenty requiring neither courage nor skill, that the fish- 
ermeo do not venture more than two leagues frooi the coast, 
tbat the fisheries do not furnish a nursery for seamen, that 
oiir figJieriBen have no attachment to their homes, that thej 
tre cosmopolites, and a few cod-fish more or less determine 
their country. If an inhabitant of either of the Capes of 
Massachusetts, were to answer the French Minister, and 
be permitted a little warn^th in repelling his account of 
them, might thej not boast of their attachment to their 
homes, where generation after generation had clung to a 
barren soil and liberty ;, and where a life of hardship and 
enterprise had procured them support and competence, 
from the stormy regions of Newfoundland ? Might they not 
tell hiiD to inquire of the merchant vessels in the Pacifick 
and the Mediterranean, the Baltick and the Bay of Biscay, 
or to walk the decks of the Constitution, and ask whether 
they furnished a nursery for seamen ? Might they not, in 
denying that they were cosmopolites, say to him, that dur- 
ing the period in which he had been transmuted from a 
Cathoiick Bishop into a plain republican, from that to an 
Imperial Prince with an Italian principality, and then sub- 
sided into a French Prince under a royal dynasty ; they 
had remained unchanged and unbroken, though they had 
been visited by war, and seen their prosperity withered 
year after year by a sickening, deleterious policy, that 
drove them from the ocean, but not to despair ; and, 
after embargoes and war had passed over them like pesti- 
leoce and a hurricane, they were ready on the return of 
peace and freedom to launch their barks on the sea, and, 
borne on its mountainous waves, to gather all the spoils of 
the deep, and return with them Xo the dwellings of their fore- 
fathers ? 

There are some keen and accurate remarks in this work, 
blended with many that are jejune and puerile. If we hap- 
pea to take up the book, and open a passage where he is 
talking about ^ the corruption of the cities,' and the virtues 
of < villagers embosomed in the woods,' we think that we 
bave by accident taken up the wrong volume, and turn to 
tte title, to see if it be not a pastoral, instead of a political 

(treatise* When he asks who would believe that * bank* 
^niptcy would be the surest road to fortune V the gut vult^ 
^ ig'o, will be ready in every one's mouth. When he 



/ 



UmiUdSMu @E«a«. 

•a jf, that richei are too niich io the movtbi of Americ^Ba, 
he i« uiidoubtedljr correct ; and wheo he obaenrea, that 
conversation turns too much on politicks and property » w# 
may answer, that if is the inevitable attendant of liberty aii4 
security ; and surely is well worth the prevailing topicka 
among Frenchmen, io which tliey were restricted by the 
police for some years past ; the merits of an actress or of 
a General. He has been incautiously led away by soBi# 
injury received himself, or by some of his counlrymen, to 
brand alt the merchants of the United States with disboft* 
esty. He would find some rash men retort the same re* 
flexions on his fellow subjects, and in both cases unreason- 
ably. A foreigner is always under a disadvantage in every 
country, and very often blames others for his owi< mistakes. 
Frenchmen have been so harassed and unfortunate, for the 
last twenty years, that they may be excused if they are 
sometimes unjust in their complaints. When he says, that 
we iiui^h ut all acts of disinterested conduct towards the 
publick, how many instances to the contrary could we citey 
iu the small district around us ! When be says, we are i0- 
capable of generous and elevated emotions, what shall we 
sa^' of the enthusiasm which some European events have 
caused in this country ! What shall we say of those thrill- 
ing resistless impulses, that agitated the hearts and flushed 
the cheek of the whole nation, at certain events in the late 
war ; till it seemed almost justly to be apprehended, that 9 
people nurtured in the bosom of peace, and denounced as 
possessing no passion but the love of money, should, in 
their admiration and sympathy for the perils and achieve* 
ments of their gallant countrymen, be lured from their 
peaceable and noble occupations, to waste their unequalled 
energy and enterprise in pursuit of the false glory derii'Oii 
from war. 

M. de Beaujour observes, that though we have assem* 
blies, yet that the principal occupation of them is, ^ among 
* the women to drink tea, and among the men to drink wine,' 
which shews that he was not thoroughly initiated in our 
society. Indeed, Frenchmen generally disliking tea^ and 
being unaccustomed to such potent wine as Madeira, are 
prone to mistakes on these subjects. A conversazione at 
Naples, a cerclt at Paris, a rotite in London, or a tea partjf 
in America, are only diffi^rent names for the same things 
ilK>dified by the habits of the different nations.. In Europe 



of North- Amtr lea. 



this ^H 
jnd re- ^H 



they are ii> full vigour al inidnighl, at wbicli hour, in 
toMHlrj't ll'eir vkfinia aie generally in a stale cl' sound 
pent). jBxcept Ihal iu Loudon, there is a more fatiguing 
crowd, and in the great vApilals of Europe, nalurally mort! 
»pi«ndoiu- in dress, and more aggregalion of cask, we pro- 
test most solemnly against their being more tedious lb this 
coiiMlry than in others. Drinking tea seems lo be consid- 
ered by the author the sole object, when il is only a IrlBing 
incident, in Ihe ceremony. Even in those smaller parties, 
where women sip a cup of tea in unbroken platoons, this is 
not the only employment, as he seems to have iniagioed 
from inaccurate ob8er\alion ; they are oflen occupied al 
ttie same time in embroidering muslin, aud characters, and 
the spots they work on each, nilhoiil apparent eQbrl, are 
often admirable proofs of skill and fancy. 

We shall extract his remark on tlte personal appearance 
of Ihe two sexes, and, if we are not perfectly satisfied with 
)|it lb«0ry respecting our owh, we shall excuse it, from 
gWilude for what he has said in favour of Ihe other. 

And thus indeed have (he Americans nearly all a high 
stature, a good shape, a slrong and well proportioned 
fiamq, » fresh and ruddy complexion ; but, in general, 
Mlwy have lilDe delicacy in their features, and lilite ex- 
iaalon in their physiognomy. Though few ugly men are 
be Eound among Ihem, sfill fewer ii-.aUy banilsime ones 
« lo be seen, I mean of that lowering and manly beauty, 
(omelimes remarked in Ihe souih of Europe, and which 
'lerved at a model to Ihe finest statues of the ancients. 
'Tbey are for the greatest part, of those tall forms, ruddy 
'ind soft, such as Tacitus describes the Germans, who 
'fretpienlly concealed under them, no other than an obtuse 
'buikI and soul devoid of energy. Il is perhaps to this 
'vice in Iheir physical constitution, more than lo iheir gco- 
'grapfaical position, Ihal the eternal irresolution of their 
'government is owing ; but il is to be presumed, that Iheir 
'temperament wilt improve with Ibeir climate, and that the 
'Aiitericans will some day or other acquire more vivacity of 
'aind, and more rigour in Iheir character. 

'The women have more of that delicate beauty which 
'belongs lo their sex, and in general have finer features, 
iognojay. 



H usually tail, and nearly all are pi 



d of a light 



'siry ihape ; the breast high, a tine head, and their colour 



f4 Vniitd SUOu tNor. 

^ of a dazzBog wbif eness. Let ot imagiiie trader tbn br3- 
' Itaot fonDy the most modest demeanour, a chaste and rir- 
^ginal air, accompanied bj those simple and onaffected 

* graces which flow from artless nature, and we majr have 

* im idea of their style of beaut j ; but this beauty passes 

* and fades in a moment. At the age of twent j-five their 
' form changes, and at thirty, the whole of their charms 

* have disappeared. As long as they are unmarried thej 

* enjoy the greatest liberty, but as soon as they bare enter* 

* ed the conjugal state they bury themselves in the bosom 

* of their families, and appear no longer to live but for their 
'husbands. If, however, they thus contribute less to the 

* pleasures of society, they nevertheless increase those of 

* wedlock, which makes the American wives both thrifty 
'and faithful, divested of the vices of their husbands, and 
^possessing all their virtues. 

* With this species of existence, are the people of the 
'TTnited States destined to be more happy than those of 
' Europe ? This is not easy to decide, because this ques- 
'tion, which is very simple under one head, becomes com- 
'pjicated umler an infinite number of others. 

* In the first place, the Americans in domestic life, have 
' more means of happiness ; but in social life have less ; 
'and if they almost live without pain, they also nearly live 
' without pleasure. They do not know the art of varying 
' or innUiplying their enjoyments, and the monotony of their 
'existence resembles the silence of the tombs. 

' In the extent of their territory they besides possess a 
' greater facility of livelihood, and consequently less inqoi- 
' etude with regard to their subsistence ; in a word, if na- 
' iwe has been more bountiful to them in her gifts than to 
' other nations, they also enjoy them for a shorter period ; 
' thvj grow and die quickly like their trees, and the land on 
' which they dwell is not yet sufficiently dried, or, if I may 
' be allowed the expression, is not yet sufficiently ripe to be 
'inhabited.' 

This idea of the land being too green and too wet to be 
inhabited, is the ground work of the theory of de Pau. 
The rernerks on our social and domestick happiness compar- 
eil with E irope, are just ; the same thought, however, was 
better expressed by the celebrated Abbe C — , in a single 
sentence* ' In Europe,' said he, ' there is pleasure without 
' happiness ; in America there is happiness without plea- 
*sure.' 




o/ NoHK-America. 

The third chapter is accupied wilh the aubject of tlie 

ifOimnercial relalioiis of ihe Uiiileil Stales ; in which there 

^ a great deal uf Use leaHoiiingt and sugL;eBlions for forcing 

:tQEamerce belween France and this country, which would 

^evltably lend to diminish thai which now exists. The 

j^pinions on Ihia subject are well commeiiled upon by the 

■4f*nsla\or, and iheir errours refuted. Much is said of the 

p.nerosily ofihe Freucii, and ihe sordid cupidity of the 

idglisfa and Americans. In contrasling his own nation 

rllii Ihe English, he says, 'The Englishman, eager and 

proud, Iradea with olher nations for the sole purpose of 

iriniaining their money by means of a coinmerci:il balance ; 

^e Frenchman, ihe friend of glory and the arts, sseks to 

raUe with theiti for Ibe sole purpose ol' conveying lo them 

Ifae luxriry and laste of his own nalion.' — On which the 

tnahitor very j.'.sily observes, 'If this be Ihe only object 

)f Ihe manufa<'1ures and Irade of France, she never can 

Ihereby become a powerful lival.' We shall quote a 

lort paragraph from this part of Ibe chapter, which is as 

)Dapici]oDB for modesty, as for truth ; he is speaking of 

le United Slates. 

* They have, moreover, never received from the British 
thing else but outrages, whilst on the part of France, 
ley have constantly received benehls, and even owe her 
le grealesi of all, thai of their independence, which they 
mly conquered by her means, and which wilhout her they 
annot preserve.' 

In describing our intercourse with England, he repeals 
g ideas of Talleyrand, wilhoiit his eloquence, and con- 
udeB bis reasoning with Ihe following paragraph, 
.'In tihort, every ihing tends lo connect the Americans 
lad Knglish lo;rether ; the same laws, Ihe same customs, 
d ihe same manners. The Americans, .like all olher 
(alienB plunged in a thick atmosphere, have little iniagina- 
ioo, and I hey are ralher guided by iheir habils, than by 
h«ir ideas. To Ihis may be attributed their incliualion 
k> the English, who h^ve 'he same habits as themselves. 
BeAce arises Iheir alienation from other nations possess- 
fd of dilfercnl h;ibils ; as well as iheir indifference in their 
lelaltiins between man and man, and even between maa 
Uid God. Hence also is derived their unconcern respect- 
bg religion, as well as their political egotism. The Amc^ 
pjcans could never be roused out of Ihia stale of apalhy^j 



I 



06 UniM SiaM ON#r. 

* cinle«6 it were by ^ perpetdai oontact with a liv^y and 
^ animaf ed people, such as Ihdse of tfie aoutk of Europe ; 

* and tlieir coofac^ is scarcely wi^ii any oth^r than those of 
^ the north, who are nearly as cold as themselves. Againtt 

* the first, they have a kind of natural astipatfay, and tbey 
' prefer the English nation to all otkers^ even the most 
^ glorious, l3ecau8e she is the most opulent ; thus resem- 
^ bling the schoolboy, who, in the course of fait reading, 

* becomes enamoured of Ibe Carthagenians and prefers tfaeai 

* to the Romans/ 

We regret this singular mistake about our atmoapbere, 
which we have before noticed. The author, by the fre^ 
quent expression of his partiality for the south of Europe 
and the shores of the Mediterranean, may derive it from 
his residence in Greece, or from being a native of Provence. 
Yet, if this be the case, we cannot allow even a Provencal 
to call our atmosphere ^ coarse and thick.' It is unfortu- 
nate, that this errour should have taken sach strong bold of 
his imagination, because it has contributed to lead him into 
one of more importance ; that we are ^ indifferent to the 
' relations between man and man, and even between maa 

* and God.' 

The fifth chapter treats of the political relations of the 
United States with the oiber nations of the world, and from 
this we shall make an extract to shew the author^s reason- 
ing respecting South America, a country which will con- 
centrate the attention of all the world, as soon as the com- 
motions in Europe have subsided. 

* Among the various regions of the new world, there are 
^ several, such as Mexico, Peru, and the Brazils, which 
'present to trade the same productions as Europe, whilst 
' at the same time, they afford productions of which she ii 
' deprived. Europe produces neither sugar nor coffee, and 

* scarcely any of those beautiful colours that give such lus- 
' tre to our stuffs ; whereas America produces wheat, wines, 
^oil, and almost every other production of Europe, but the 

* latter cannot do without those of the former. 

' America not only presents trade with the most choice 
' productions, but, she besides affords the most precious of 
' all, silver, which may be considered as an universal mer- 
' chandize, since it causes all others to circulate. 

* Mexico, Peru, and the Brazils, are the three richest 
' countries on earth, in the precious metals ; and it ia well 



OUft.] 



of North- America. 



brought over in (nbute to 
Lite of [ndid. You traiis- 
u esiablUh (be freedom of 




knovo, thai if was Ifaese melali 
Europe, which gave her the 1 
Jfer this trade to America, if j 
the New World. 

' Tiierefore, nothing can be more fatal to Europe, (ban 
to lake away her trade for the purpoae of Iranslerring it 
to America. 

' The centre of the political world rests where the centre 
,iof commerce in eHtabliahcd, because it is I'l-om this point, 
that the arts, sciences, and civilization spread over the 
rest of Ihe globe. And il is well known, that ihe centre 
J of commerce, which formerly existed in Ihe Meiliierra- 
nean, has already been drawn lowards Ibe ocean by the 
discovery of Ibe Cape of Good Hope ; but it would not 
■'be adviseable to remove it any further by the entire inde- 
'pendence of America, otherwise Ihe pre-euiinence would 
'be given to a people lo n'hoTi nature seemed lo have re- 
'fiised il, and Ihe world would again fall inio barbarism. It 
'is lo Ihe Mctliterranean that the nations ol Europe, and 
'particularly Spain, France, Italy and Greece, ought lo 
eeefc (o retain or attract the commerce of the world ; be- 
cause il is round this sea that nature has placed the rich- 
b*eat soil, and the handsomest race of men. It is under this 
'happy climate, that all the arts which constitute the charm 
lor consolation of life, are born and carried to perfection. 
fCarry these arts into other climates, and ihej will either 
rAlie, or they will be badly cultivated, and ignorance, with 
'all her scourges, will again spread tbrougbonl the world,' 
■ 'It is necessary, therefore, in order to retain and perfect 
(civilization among men, lo preserve to Europe the pre- 
-eminence nature has bestowed upon her ; but you take 
'this away if America is set at li^jerty. 

' All (he European nations, and even England, whose 
'fate can never be separated from that of Europe, are con- 
'sequenlly more or less interested in the ilependence of 
'America, but none so much so as the Spanish nation. 
'Spain could never flourish, or even niainlain herself, with- 
l^oul the aid of America, because, being inferior lo Eu- 
'mpean nations in industry, she stands in need of the me- 
Itals of America lo pay for that of foreigners. Spain, and 
'the same may be said of Porlitgai, is therefore inferesled 
Mn bringing America back to herself, by every means in 
Vol. ir. No. 4. 13 



I 



I 



^ UnUed Stale$ [Nor. 

her poirer, aod particularly by the bond of religion, the 
most powerfql of all. 

* Notwithstanding, however, that other nations appear 
less interested than Spain and Portugal in the fate of 
America, thej cannot remain indifferent. All nations carry 
pu a trade more or less direct with the American colonies ; 
and they would ruin themselves in this trade, if they did 
not receive in return, by the rights of sovereignty, or by 
their commercial relations with Spain and Portugal, the 
silver destined to pay for colonial productions. Give in- 
dependence to America, and the trade carried on with 
her will gradually resemble that of the Indies, and will 
become burdensome to Europe, because it is easier to dis^ 
pense with muslins and shawls than with gold and silver. 

* And let it not be said that it nould be so difficult to 
binder the independence of South, as it was to prevent 
that of North America. The population of the latter be* 
ing nearly all of European origin, required not the aid of 
England to defend it against the Indians and blacks ^ 
whereas the European population of Spanish America, 
being less numerous than that of the Spanish and black 
colours, is unable to defend itself against them without the, 
support of Spain, or of some other European power» 
There consequently exists between Spanish America and 
Europe a bond of considerable strength, which did not 
exist between England and the United States ; and it ir 
this reason that occasions so many struggles in Spanish 
America, and will eventually ruin the country altogether, 
if the European powers do not again succeed in restoring 
their dominion. 

* The European powers may, therefore, successfully op- 
pose the independence of America ; and they ought to 
oppose it, in order to retsun their commerce and their pre- 
eminence in the world. 

* They ought, however, to oppose it the more, in order 
to repress <be commercial ambition of England and the 
United States. 

* The English themselves at present only favour the in- 
dependence of Spanish America, but for the purpose of 
forming mercantile establishments there. They already 
hold in their own hands the keys of all the seas ; and they 
seek by new establishments on the Biver la Plata and the 

^Fernandez Islands, to embrace the two coasts of South 



181$.] 0f Northr America. M 

* America^ in like manner as tfaej embrace the two coasts 
^of N'orlh America, by their establishments at Halifax and 
*Nootka Sound. 

'The ambition of the United States is more disguised 
Mhan that ot England, but still more dangerous, because it 
'(ends to nothing less than to dcTour the whole of North 
'Aaierica, whilst Europe is unconscious of their object. 
^Sidce the Americans have acquired Louisiana, thej ap- 
*pear unable to bear any barriers round them. They have 
'already invaded Florida, explored the whole of the country 
Mhat separates them from the Pacific Ocean, and they now 
'raise their pretensions towards the west, on the one side, 
'as far as the Missouri, and on the other as far as the river 
'Del Norte. And it is plain that by occupying the bor- 
'ders of the river Del Norte, they would soon be enabled 
Mo invade Mexico ; which, being taken in front and flank^ 
'would to them become an easy prey. 

' The commercial avidity of the Americans equals, and 
'even surpasses, that of the English. These people have 
' scarcely appeared on the ocean, and already there is not 
' a shore on the globe, or a sea, that their navigators have 
'not explored. Whilst, on the one side, they are seen 
'traversing with their light vessels, the whole Atlantic! 
' coast, as far as Cape Horn, from whence they boldly 
'launch into the South Sea ; on the other, they are beheld 
'rising as far as the very ice of the Arctic Pole, and pene-^ 
'trating into the deep inlets of the Hudson and Davis's Bays. 
'The most remote and boisterous seas, the White Sea, the 
'Baltic, the Red Sea, the Persian Gulf, those of Bengal and 
'China, are covered with their flags ; they also frequent 
'the scarcely known shores of the whole southern hemi- 
'sphere, range along the western coast of America, as well 
' as the eastern parts of Asia, and seem to fly from V>ne ex- 
' tre'uitj^ of the globe to the other, with the rapidity of 
'birds. 

' An ambition of this kind, manifested by an infant peo- 
' pie, is still more dangerous than that of England, against 
'whom we have seen the whole of Europe leagued ; and it 
' cannot fail to be fatal to the European powers if not re- 
'stricted within its due bounds. The European nations, 
' consequently, ought at length to turn their attention to> 
' wards America, and concert between themselves what 
'measures are necessary to fix the destiny of lo large ii 



100 VnUed SMts [K<nr« 

* portion of the globe, and so interesting to all ; for since 

* navigation has opened and bound the different regions of 

* the world together, no particular one can be neglected 

* without all deriving injury. It therefore becomes the 
' duty of all the large nations of Eurf)pe to embrace in their 

* policj all (he other countries; not to turn them to account as 

* England does, but to preserve harmony between themi 

* and to supply them with the means of their preservtk 
' tion. Among the large nations of Europe, some are not 
' sufficiently generous, and others not sufficiently powerful 
^ by sea and land, to extend their solicitude to all nations* 
^ France alone placed in the midst of them, as if to bind 

* and balance them together, is enabled constantly to watch 
' over the harmony and happiness of all ; because, alc-ne 
' sufficiently rich in her own soil not to envy the rest, 
^ she besides produces men the most brave and the most 
' generous. 

— Sake magna parens fivgum^ Satumia teUnUf 
Magna virum . 

* This nation, alone, deserves to be the moderator of 

* others, since she surpasses all in generosity and grandeur 

* of soul. 

'But let it not be thought that I here seek to stir up the 

* nations of Europe against the independence of the United 
' States ; I only seek to guard them against that of Spanish 

* America. 

' God forbid, that I should seek to arm Europe against a 

* nation that has almost entirely issued from her own bosom, 

* that has preserved her laws, manners, and religion, and that 

* appears only to have gone over to America, but for the 

* purpose of animating a sluggish soil, and of carrying thither 

* the arts and civilization.' 

The translator has attached a long note to these obser- 
vations on the emancipation of South America, which he 
commences by saying, ' How the fatal consequences here 

* predicted to Europe, from the independence of South 

* America, could ever occur, really appears singular. How 

* that e\ent could bring barbarism on the old world, and 

* take from it the commerce of India, is difficult to imagine.' 
With respect to the South Americans, he makes the follow- 
ing observations : 



of NoTlh- America. 

< Seventfen millloDs of inhabilants, placed on the moat 
'eilemive conlinenl ollbe world, abounding in I he richest 
'productions, and consuming annually more ihun Ihirleeti 
'millions sterling of European producia, are certainly 
'ealilled to some cons iderai ion in ihe general scale of po- 
'litical events; and a commercial connection with lliem 
'cannol be a subiecl of indill'erence 1o any nation. Yel 
' llie horrors, scenes of bloodshed, and general rtiin und 
'lievaslation now witnessed iheie, excile neither interest 
' nor curiosily in the cabinets of Europe ; and Ihe lale events 
'thai have deluged the discoverieg of Columbus in blood, 
' and rem them with anarchy, appeared to have excited 
'neither sympathy nor regret; nay, ihe lale conduct of 
'Europe seems dictated for no olher purpose, than to alien- 
'ale tbem from her, in order to bind them to their sister 
'republic of the north.' 

We do not often meet with more puerile and more ridi- 
culous matter, than is contained in the last e\lrucl we have 
made from this work ol M. de Beaujour. The Medilerra- 
Seao is to be made ihe centre of commerce, because its 
Utores are peopled with the handsoment men, and Europe is 
T^be ruined if the provinces of South America are made 
! and independent, and open to the trade of all the 
Id ; (he French are the only generous people, and the 
fUy ones who from habit and situation are capable of pro- 
moting the harmony of the norld. The English are dange- 
1liE,,aiid we slill more, because we purtsue commerce with 
Igacilj, eagerness, and enterprise. The translator some- 
noee joins in sounding the locsin against us. We who are 
ploring, bringing inlo cullivallon, and developing the 
Wurces of immense regions abandoned to a stale of nature ; 
_ d thereby peaceably adding 1o Ihe products and resources 
p*f the civilized world, are held up as objects of jealousy 
* tad suspicion, by those inoffensive people, who are em- 
broiling, and conquering every i.ounlry wilhin Iheir reach. 
This vague feeling of alarm about us, thai pervades the 
*riliDg£ of some European slalesmen, and ihe inimical 
doctrines it produces, are every way absurd. In the first 
place, It is beyond Iheir power to slop our growlb, and 
therefore lo cherish suspicion and animosily is only mischie- 
vous; but slill more so, to hold up Ihe idea, thai Ihe pros- 
perity of one nation, when il is owing to her hahils of peace, 
Industry and enterprise, can be noxious lo any olher. 



IM United SUOeM of NarU^Ameriea. p 

Ererj nation in Europe bas reaped adrantage firoin 
flourishing growth, and if some have obtained a larger 
than others, it has been owing to their superiour inteilig 
and industry. The gentle hint to the nations oi Eui 
about the necessity of regulating our destinies, is n 
remembering. Europe, however, has enough to oc4 
her attention at present, without meddling with the Uj 
States ; and as to France, unfortunate France ! she si 
long destined to rue her past encroachments upon i 
nations, and to be furnished with full employment in he 
her own wounds, and conciliating her own distracted [ 
lation. 

The question of the independence of South Ameri< 
too vast, and its bearings too various to be entered ■ 
here. We believe most fully, that it would be evenii 
advantageous to Spain, as the loss of the United Statei 
to Great Britain. Spain, by the agreement of all histo 
and statistical writers, has suffered at home, from her dc 
dence on the precious metals of her colonies. Popul 
and industry were discouraged, and the most insuppor 
abuses of administration perpetuated; because the dc 
tion of the Provinces of the mother country was disregai 
while the Court could depend on the American minei 
supplies, and could pride themselves on a pretended n 
poly ; we say pretended, for what was the real operatic 
the Spanish system ? they were the mere bankers, thri 
whose hands the money passed, to reward the skill of i 
industrious countries ; nay, of late years, the money h 
many cases never even visited the Spanish territories, 
mortgaged beforehand by the poverty of the kingdom, il 
passed with a royal license immediately into the ham 
foreigners. If Spain, profiting by her own negative e 
rience^ and the positive experience of others, of the ii 
cacy of the colonial system for such a country, as 
continent of either South or North America, should ma; 
mously loose her hold on these extensive regions, it w 
secure to her, assisted by the advantages of similar langi: 
religion, manners, and habits, all the monopolj that w 
be beneticial. Melioration of the administration at h 
and free commerce to these colonies, would promote 
prosperity of all the world, but that of Spain in the 
degree. 



>tl».} Tke Queen^s Wake. 108 

And, after all, is the population of South America, in 
«oaie of the Provinces a very fine one, to be utterlj dis- 
tegarded ? Is there no feeling of remorse in the most cal'- 
lous politician, at abandoning these provinces to a govern- 
ment like that now existing in Spain ? To a king, who by 
oae of his first acts restored the Inquisition, and condemned 
t6 the galiies the patriots, who at all hazards maintained his 
rights to the throne of his ancestors, when he himself had 
weaklj abandonded Ihem ? To a king, the spirit of whose 
administration may be gathered from the following account 
ef his employments ; which is extracted from the Christian 
Observer for April last, a respectable English publication ; 

* The seventh edition of a sermon preached at Cadiz by 

* Father Blasius Ostalaya, has issued from the Spanish 
' pr^s. The immediate cause of its popularity seems to be^ 
' the account it gives of the domestic employments of Fer- 
'dinand 7th, at Valencia. That Sovereign it seems begins 
Mbe day with prayers, confessions and offices of piety; 
'and then proceeded much to the satisfaction of the 

* worthy confessor, to embroider a robe for the Virgif^ 
^ Mary J* 

Though under no very particular obligations to Spain^ 
ve cannot interfere in the \]ispute. Indeed, our good 
will would be more disinterested than that of any other 
nation ; for the Provinces of South America, under a good 
government, would be able to furnish many things to the 
West Indies and to Europe, more advantageously than wGs^ 
coold ; but some balance would be found, and if not, the 
liappiness of the world at large would be increased, and 
this would be sufficient. It would be stupid indifierence^ 
or downrigh^hypocrisy, not to wish them success. 

Iik« Qtieen'^ Wake : a legendary poeniy by James Hogg.^ 
Boston, republished by Wells and Lilly, pp> 257. 

That the author of this poem was a common shepherd, 
which is asserted by the editor in a preface on his own per- 
>onal knowledge, is the roost extraordinary circumstance 
about the work ; the dedication is the most pleasing : ^ To 
' her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte of Wales, a 
'Sfaepherd among the mountains of Scotland dedicates this 
'poem.' This seems to be realizing in pastoral composi- 



IM The Q«€m^# Wdke. \\ 

lioo, what hzB hitherto been oolj fahaloiis, at least sine 
days of Arcadia, wboae chronology b a little oncei 



The delicacy, purity and feeling, which the ancient | 
attributed to snepherds, and which their successors 
servilely imitated down to the present time^ is ridicule 
false as regards the modem race of them, and indeed 
the nature of their occupation, must have always been 
for of all menial employments, this seems, from the cir 
stances attending it, as pursued in Europe, to nourish 
ranee and stupidity. Mr. Hogg is a striking exception 
may be considered as one of the first real shepherds 
has ever indulged in poetry ; though the pretended 
have deluged us with their insipidity. 

By the plan of this poem, the author supposes the n 
tunate Queen Mary, soon after her first arrival in Scot 
to have ordered a grand musical festival, or Wake^ as : 
meetings were called in that country. At this wake all 
principal minstrels contended for certain prizes, to be as 
ed by the Queen in presence of all the court.. The 
formers, seventeen in number, sung to the accompanii 
of their harps flome tale or ballad, founded on the tradii 
and superstitions of the country. These are given in ; 
riety of different metres. "Mr. fiogg makes Rizzio, 
Italian favourite of Mary, commence the entertainn 
which lasted three thys. We select this tale as a 8[ 
men of the work ; there are two or three others, that 
sess more wildness and fancy, but this is of a conven 
length, and is told with considerable pathos. 

Game ye bv Ora's verdant steep, 

That smiles the restless ocean over ? 
Heard ye a suffering maiden weep ? 

Heard ye her name a faithful lover ? 
Saw ye aaaged matron stand 
O'er yon green grave above the strand, 
Bent like the trunk of withered tree. 
Or yon old thorn that 8i()s the sea ? 
FixM her dim eye, her face as pale 

As the mists that o'er her flew : 
Her joy is fled like the flower of tlie vale. 

Her ho|)e like the morning dew ! 
That matron was lately as proud of her stay. 
As the mightiest monarch of sceptre or sway : 
O list to the tale! Hh a tale of soft sorrow. 
Of Halcohn of Lorn, and young Ann of Glen-Onu 



iU5.] The Quern's Wake. 106 

The sun is sweet at early morn, 

Ju8t blushing from the ocean's bosom ; 
The rose that decks the woodland thorn 

Is fairest in its opening btossom ; 
Sweeter than opening rose in dew. 

Than vernal flowers of richest hue. 
Than fragrant birch or weeping willow. 
Than red sun resting on the billow ; 
Sweeter than aught to mortals given 

The heart and soul to prove ; 
Sweeter than aught beneath the heaven, ^ 

The joys of early love ! 
Never did maiden, and manly youth. 
Love with sucl^ fervour, and love with such truth $ 
Or pleasures and virtues alternately liorrow, 
As Malcolm of Lorn, and fair Ann of Glen-Ora, 

The day is come, the dreaded day. 

Must part two loving hearts for ever; 
The ship Hes rocking in the Jmy, 

The boat comes rippling up the river : 
O happy has the gloaming's eye 

In green Glen-Ora^s bosom seen them! 
But soon shall lands and nations li^. 

And angry oceans roll between them. 
Yes, they must part, for ever part ; 
Chill falls the truth on either heart ; 
For hdnour, titles, wealth, and state, 
In distant lands her sire await. 
The maid must with her sire away, 

She cannot stay behind; 
Strait to the south the pennons play. 

And steady is the wind. 
Shall Malcolm relinquish the home of his youth, 
And sail with his love to the lands of the south ? 
Ah; no ! for his father is gone to the tomb : 
One parent survives in her desolate home ! 
No child but her Malcolm to cheer her lone way : 
Break not her fond heart, gentle Malcolm, O, stay ! 

The boat impatient leans ashore. 

Her prow sleeps on a sandy pillow ; 
The rower leans upon his oar, 

Already bent to brush the billow. 
! Malcolm, view yon melting eyes. 

With tears yon stainless roses steeping 3 
! Malcolm, list thy mother's sighs ; 

SheV leaning: o'er her stafif and weeping t 
Vol. IL No. 4- 14 



UK Tke Quern' 9 WmU. gf 

Thj Aima^t heart Is bomd to thine. 
And moft that geotle heart repme ! 
<{iiick from the shore the tMWt most fly ; 
Her sool is speakhig throng her eye; 
Thiok of thy joys in Ora's shade ; 

From Anna canst thoo sever ? 
Think of the tows thoo often hast made. 

To love the dear maiden for ever. 
And canst thou forego such beauty and youth. 
Such maiden honour and spotless truth ? 
Forbid itt— He yields; to the boat he draws nigh. 
Haste, Malcolm, aboard, and revert not thine eye* 

That trembling voice, ia numoni weak. 

Comes not to blast the hopes oefore thee ; 
For pity, Malcolm, turn, and take 

A last farewell of her that bore thee. 
She says no word to mar thy bliss ; 
A last embrace, a parting kiss, 
Her love deserves ;— -then be tiiou gone ;; 
A mother's joys are thine alone. 
Friendship may fade, and fortune prove 

Deceitful to thy heart ; 
But never can a mother's love 

From berown offspring part. 
That tender form, now l^nt and gray. 

Shall quickly sink to her native clay ; 
Then who shall watch her parting breath,* 
And sbed a tear o'er her couch of death ? 
Who follow the dust to its long, long home,. 
And lay that head in an honoured tomb ? 

Ofl hast thou, to her bosom prest. 

For many a day about been borne ^ 
Oft hushed and cradled on her breast. 

And canst thou leave that breast forlorn l 
O^er all thy ails her heart has bled ; 
Oft has she watched beside thy bed ; 
Oft prayed for thee in dell at even. 
Beneath the pitying stars of heaven. 
Ah ! Malcolm, ne^er was parent yet 

So tender, so benign ? 
Never was maid so loved, so sweet. 

Nor soul so rent as thine t 
He looked to the boat, — slow she heaved from the st 
He saw his loved Anna all speechless implore : 
But, grasped by a cold and a trembling hand. 
He eluBS ^^ ^ parent, and sunk on the strand. 



n5.) Tfte Qtieen^s Wake. liSr 

The boat across the tide flew fast. 

And left a silver curve behind; 
Loud sung the sailor from the mast, 

Spreading his sails before the wind. 
The stately ship, adown the bay, 

A corslet framed of heaving snow, . 
And flurred on high the slender spray, 

Till rainbows gleanned around her prow. 
How strained was Malcolm's watery eye. 
Yon fleeting vision to descry! 
But, ah ! her lessening form so fair, 
Soon vanished in the liquid air. 
Away to Ora's headland «teep 

The youth retired the while. 
And saw th' unpitying vessel sweep 

Around yon Highland isle. 
His heart and his mind with that vessel had gone ; 
His sorrow was deep, and despairing his moan. 
When, lifting his eyes from the green heaving deep^ 
He prayed the Almighty his Anna to keep. 

High o'er the crested cliffs ft Lorn 

The curlew coned her wild bravura; 
The sun, in pall of purple borne. 

Was hastening down the steeps of Jura. 
The glowing ocean heaved her breast. 

Her wandering lover's glances under; 
And shewed his radiant form, imprest 

Deep in a wavy world of wonder. 
Not all the ocean^s dyes at even. 
Though varied as the bow of heaven; 
The countless isles so dusky blue. 
Nor medley of the gray curlew. 
Could light on Malcolm's spirit shed; 

Their glory all was gone ! 
For his joy was ^^d, his hope was dead. 

And his heart forsaken and lone. 
The sea-bird sought her roofless nest. 
To warm her brood with her downy breast; 
And near "her home, on the margin dun, 
A mother weeps o'er her duteous son* 

One little boat alone is seen 

On all the lovely dappled main. 
That softly sinks the waves between, 

Then vaults their heaving brents again; 



]0B f%e Qaeen^a Wake* fNdrv-^ 

With snow sail, and rower^B sweep. 

Across the tide she seems to fljr* 
Why bears she on yon headland steept 

Where neither house nor home is nigh? 
Is that a vision from the deep 

That springs ashore and scales the steep. 
Nor ever stays its ardent haste 
Till sunk upon young Malcolm^s breast ! 
O ! spare that breast so lowly laid. 

So fraught with deepest sorrow ! 
It is his own, his darling maid, 

Young Anna of Glen-Ora ! — 
*' My Malcolm ! part we ne'er again i 
My father saw thy bosom's pain ; 
Pitied my grief from thee to s^ver ; 
Now I, and Glen-Ora, am thine for everT— » 

That blaze of joy, through clouds of wo, 
Too fierce upon his heart did fall. 

But, ah ! the shaft had left the bow, 
Which |H>wer of man could not recall ! 

No word of love could Malcolm speak; 
No raptured kiss fck lips impart; 

No tear bedewed his sbivering cheek, 
To ease the grasp that held his heart. 

His arms assayed one kind embrace- 
Will they enclose her ? never ! never ! 

A smile sat softly on his face. 
But ah ! the eye was set for ever ! 

'Twas more than broken heart could brook ! 

How throbs that breast ! — How glazed that look t 

One shiver more ! — All ! all is o'er ! 

As melts the wave on level shore ; 
^As fades the dye of falling even. 

Far on the silver verge of heaven ; 

As on thy ear, the minstrel's lay, — 

So died the comely youth away.' 

The following verse in a ballad which forms the twelftfi 
Bard's song, recalled to mind a certain story of Peter Pipeff 
constructed for those who had a hesitation in their speech* 
and this perhaps would be equally efficacious if repeated 
rapidly. 

Lord Darcie drew, Lord Darcie threw ; 

But threw and drew in vain.; 
Lord Darcie drew. Lord Darcie threw, 

And spurred his black aniaiq. 



1M«| Hi9ioric0l ColhctUms. m 

• 

The aathor gives an explanation of nine worda in the 
notes, which he thinks peculiar to Scotland, and that these 
are the only ones. He thinks, * that the muscular strength 

* of the English language consists in the energy of its primi- 

* tive stem, — in the trunk from which all its foliage hath 
' sprung, and around which its exuberant tendrils are all 
' entwined and interwoven, — I mean the remains of the an- 
^ cient Teutonick. On the strength of this conceived 
' principle, which may haply be erroneous, I have laid it 

* down as a maxim, that the greater number of these old 

* words and terms that can be introduced with propriety 

* into our language, the better. To this my casual inuova- 

* tions must be attributed. The authority of Orahame and 

* Scott has of late rendered a few of these old terras legitimate. 

* If I bad been as much master of the standard language as 

* they, I would have introduced ten times more.' We 
Iftave only copied these sentences to enter a protest against 
^liem, and to express our satisfaction, that with such inten- 
sions be was not more master of the language. As it ii^ 

ere are a great number of words that no common reader 
an understand ; and if Scotland is to continue to furnish 
fBopular poems and romances, the most saleable and useful 
Ksook that could be undertaken, would be a dictionary of 
^>bsolete, unintelligible,- and barbarous terms. 

Those who are fond of romantick tales and ballads 
CVDunded on local superstitions, will be much pleased with 
'ftliose in this volume, many of which display considerable 
fwcy and originality. 

Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society. — 
Vol. 3d of the second series, Boston^ John Eliot, Bvo. 
pp. 200. 

The Massachusetts Historical Society, was incorporated 
in 1794. There are some learned Societies which have 
been longer in existence ; there are none that during the 
vame period have rendered more service to their country. 
The volume DOW under consideration is the thirteenth which 
they have published; besides their labour and exertions in 
bringing out Hubbard's Ms. History ; and, for the honour 
of the state, it should be mentioned, that they were assisted 
io the undertaking by a vote of the Legislature who suh^ 



1 1« ColUetums of ike (Nor* 

tcribed for a sufficient nainber of copies to present one to 
each town. The publications of this society hare rescued 
a great manj curious and important papers from oblivion ; 
thej form a collection of documents inraluable to the histo^ 
rian. By their efforts, a collection of minute facts relating 
to the earl J period of our history, will be handed to our ' 
posterity, which will give them a clear idea^of the earliest 
origin of the nation, and this will be carried down to the 
most distant periods. As there is little to blame and much 
to praise in these early annals, every generation will look' 
with increased veneration to the pure virtues and inflexible 
constancy of 6ur heroick forefathers, and the influence ot 
their example may stimulate future generations to avoid' 
degeneracy. 

The papers contained in these collections, are of course 
extremely miscellanetous. Ancient Ms. or small printed 
works that have become scarce ; biographical sketches ; 
original letters, of remarkable [i^rsons ; topographical ac- 
counts of towns and parishes ; documents relating to religion, 
war, finance, the Indian tribes, &c. &c. are all found in 
these volumes, and there are some articles on all these 
subjects in the volume now before us. These topographi- 
cal and statistical papers, are very useful documents, and 
perhaps their interest rather increases than diminishes 
with time. Much praise is due to those gentlemen who have 
furnished them. Directions for papers of this kind, have 
been often given by this society ; still there is much 
diversity in the essays given in. Some points are dwelt 
upon more than is necessary, and others are passed over 
too hastily, or entirely omitted. It would perhaps be well 
if the society should, through their members or correspon- 
dents, collect all the statistical details of some particular 
town, and then print it as a model, and send copies of it to 
individuals in every town in the state, who might be expect- 
ed to pay attention to such subjects. This would perhaps 
induce some of them to prepare a similar return of their 
own districts. It is in the power of a respectable inhabi- 
tant, to furnish a statistical return of his own town, without 
very arduous labour or serious inconvenience, if it be un- 
dertaken gradually and methodically. Returns of the 
number of domestick animals, their current value, of the 
number of acres of land in cultivation, the kind and amount 
of crops, are important items and pot usually given. 



lUd.] MassackusetU Htstorieat Socittt/. 

This presenl volume contains twenty-nine arliclea, of 
bJcfi eight are classed under liie bead of //isfory, and fifteen 
ider that of Topography and Local History. We ahall 
Ser a few remarks on lome of these in the ortter of Iheir 
uertion. The first paper is a tleacrtplion of Mashpee, 
the County of Barnstable, dated September 16th, 1802. 
aahpee is otjeof the Indian Colonies under ibe protection 
the State, respecting which, this paper contains some 
li'ioua information, and very s&iind reflections. It is per- 
ips not generally known, that Ibe state of Massachuselts, 
IE, from ilH earliest origin, maintained certain colonies of 
diana to the present time, which Colonies have been 
loaged aud direcled partly by the government, and partly 
r the society for propagating the gospel, the last body 
yrm^ we believe transferred Iheir agency to (he Univer- 
(y; what progress they have made, what melioralion of 
leir condition has ensued, what advantages have resulted 
t society and religion from (heir joint eflbrO, will be best 
flhewn by a few extracts from ibis short, exlremejy well 
IFtitten memoir. 

Maahpee, being south of Ibe chain of hills, which ex- 
tends from west to east along Ibe north part of the county 
Ipf Barnstable, is in general level land. The greatest part 
pf it ia covered with wood : the growth is a few oaks, but 
'Principally pitch pine. These woods, with those of Ssnd- 
.ffich and Falmoulh that join Ihem, form an extensive forest, 
. which alfords a range for deer. In ihe same forest are 

' 'also to be found a fev rackoons. The land, which has 
'been cleared, is chiefly on (he necks near the harbours, 

I 'and on the banks of the rivers and lakes. The soil of 
' these places, particularly in lli^ neighbourhood of John's 
'Pond, Mashpee Pond, and Sancluit Pond, Is pretty good. 
'Much of the Land however is sandy. The cleared land 
'has been estimated at about twelve hundred acres. The 
'soil is easily tilled; and produces Indian corn from 
'seven to twenty bu&hels by [he acre, and about one third 
'u much of rye. On new land, being a mixture of sand 
'and loam, properly manured by foddering cattle with 
's&lthay upon il, Mr. Hawley has raised Gfty bushels of 
Indian corn to an acre. On sevenly-seven rods of loamy 



'land, being fresh and 



id properly manured, bis son 



lias grown not less than a hundred and ninety sevcR 



'pounds of well dre 



ind good flax. Not much aali 



1 1 4 ColUeiums of Ik [Nor. 

biifbandf, whom thej brfaig home to enjoj all the priri- 
leget and immonities of Mashpee. 

* There are leTeral schools, where the children are tan^t 
readiog and spelling ; but none of them are good ; for as 
the Indians are scattered over the plantation, not enou^ 
children for a school can be collected in any one place. 
The females are in general better taught than the males ; 
buf many of the laffer can write and cast accounts : and 
some of (hem have a mechanical turn. 

* Morals are not in a good state. There are instances of 
industry and temperance ; but too many of these Indians 
are unwilling to work, and are addicted to drunkenness. 
The females are more temperate than (be males ; but not 
a few of (he young women, as well (hose who are married, 
art those who are not, are unchaste. The Indians, like 
of her ignorant people, are ap( to be suspicious. They 
CHrino( believe that (he oflSlcers of government, the mem* 
bers of (he Society for propagating the gospel, their over- 
seers and guardians, and the o(her gentlemen, who have 
endeavoured to make them good and happy, and who, ff 
ever men were disinteresled, must be allowed to be so, are 
not under the dominion of selfish motives. Too many of 
them are false and trickish : (heir way of life disposes 
them (o these vices ; hunting, fishing, and fowling, the 
usual employments of savages, (rain (hem up (o be insidi- 
ous. But though they are cunning and sly, yet they are 
at (he same time improvident. If (hey were (o be left to 
(hemselves, the Indians of Mashpee, and the same thing ift 
true of (hose of Mar(ha'd Vineyard, would soon divest 
themselves of their land, and spend the capital. The in- 
habitan(s of (his place are poor ; and several of them are 
entirely snppor(ed by (he guardians. At times all of them 
require relief. Their slores are generally very small, as 
an ludinn depends for his daily bread upon his daily suc- 
cess : a week's sickness therefore impoverishes the great- 
est part of them, and renders them desti(u(eof every com* 
fort. Wi(hout the compassion of their white guardians 
many of (hem would perish ; for (hey have not much pity 
for each o(her. Several of them have actually suffered in 
times passed, from want of attention. Not (wen(y years 
since, two widows, Sarah Esau and the widow Nauhaud, 
who were in u^ual health, but feeble and alone, perished, 
at difTereut times, and not far from home. Their bodies 



181$«] Massachusetts Historical Society* 115 

^were found ; but no coroner was called, no inquest was 
'taken. These widows might be driven out by unkindness, 
'or urged by want might be seeking wild fruit in the 
'iroods, where they got entangled and died. At that time 
'the Indians of Mashpee were a body politick, and annuaJy 
'chose officers to provide for their poor. But the elected 
' officers of any people are the people in miniature; and 
'among savages, and those who are in a low stale of civil- 
'ization, the sick and the aged are always treated with ne^ 
'gleet : for tenderness and disinterested benevolence do 
'not spring up in the heart like indigenous platits ; but 
' they are the fruits of long, of laborious, and of intelligent 
'cultivation. 

* Religion among these people is not in a better state than 
'morals. Last year their meeting house resembled a cage 
' of unclean birds : it may not perhaps be in so bad a con- 
'dition at present, as a promise was then given that it 
'should be cleansed. The situation of it proved, that they 
'took no delight in the worship of God, as the house which 
!ia dedicated to him was more offensive to the senses, than 
!even their filthy huts. When the savages of New Eng- 
'land were first converted to the christian faith, they 
'were styled Praying Indians ; but this name cannot with 
^propriety be applied to the inhabitants of Mashpee; for 
' family prayer is almost, if not altogether, unknown among 
'them. Not much more attention is paid to publick, than 
'to domestick religion : \ery few of the children are bap- 
'tized ; and there are not more than ten. or twelve conimu-' 
'nicants. In one respect, however, there seems to be no 
'indifference to religion ; for, though there are not more 
* than eighty families, yet there are two ministers of the 
'gospel. Mr. Hawley, the missionary, is a Congregation- 
'alist ; and M^^ John Freeman, a half-blooded Indian, who 
'is most followed by the natives, is a Baptist. — The In- 
'dians retain few of the superstitions of their ancestors : per^ 
'haps they are not more superstitious than their white 
'neighbours. They still however preserve a regard for 
' sacrifice rocks, on which they cast a stick or stone, when 
'they pass by them. They themselves can hardly inform 
'us why they do this, or when it began to be a custom 
'among them. Perhaps it may be an acknowledgment of 
'an invisible agent, a token of the gratitude of the passen- 
^{er on his journey for the good hand of Providence over 



116 Cdketiana of tke [Not* 

him thus ht^ and may implj a mental prayer for itaconliinh 
ance : or perhaps, as many of the Tulgar among the Engliik 
carry about them kicky bones, and make ase of other charma 
to secure the smiles of fortune, so these sticks, which are 
heaped on the sacrifice rocks, may be nothing morethan offer- 
ings made to good luck, a mysterious agent, which is scarce* 
ly considered as a deity, which is spoken of without reyer- 
ence, and adored without devotion. Of the fables of the 
Indians not many traces are left. One marvellous story 
however is atill preserved. Before the existence of Coa- 
tuit Brook, a benevolent trout, intending to furnish the 
Indians with a stream of fresh water, forced his way from 
the sea into the land ; but finding the effort too great for 
his strength, he expired, when another fish took up the 
work where he left it, and completed the brook to oanc- 
tuit Pond. The reader may believe as much of the story 
as he pleases. He probably would regard the whole as 
a fiction, if he was not assured, that thousands of persons 
haye seen the mound of earth, which covers the grave of 
the benevolent trout. It is on the grounds of Mr. Hawley^ 
and not far from his house ; and is twenty-seven feet over^ 
and fifty four feet in length. 

* Those parts of the history of Mashpee, which have been 
given in these Collections,"^ need not be repeated here* 
At the time when thia territory was granted to the South 
Sea Indians, as they are styled in the deeds, the natives 
were numerous in the county of Barnstable ; but they 
were not particularly so in Mashpee. At present there 
are as many in Mashpee, as in former periods, whilst from 
other parts of the county they have almost entirely disap- 
peared. It must not be inferred from this fact, that the 
plantation is exempt from the general law to which the abo- 
riginals are subject, that its inhabitants should gradually 
waste away ; but it has proceeded from this cause, that 
Mashpee enjoying many peculiar privileges and advantages, 
in particaJBr that those who dwell in it are sure of a living^ 
from their labour, if they are willing to work, and from the 
charity of their guardians, if they are not, — has during a 
great nninber of years been an asylum for lazy Indians 
from all quarters of the country. They have come, not 

* ' See Coll. ©f Hist. Soc. Ist Ser. Vol. I. p. 196, 204. Vol. Ill, p. 188* 
Vol. IV. p. 66. Vol. V. p. 206. Vol. X. p. 113, 133.' 



IM.} Mas8achu$eU$ HMorical Sociefjf. ill 

*(nAy from the towns of the county, but from Middlebo- 
'rough, New Bedford, Natick, Narragaoset, and even Long 
'Island. So far is Masbpee from being able to keep good 
Hts niiaibers by natural population, that several ancient 
'fafflilies have entirely lost their name. We might par- 
ticularly mention the Wepquish and Sincausin families^ ^ 
'who were remarkable for their cunning and artifice, and of 
'whom, though they flourished here not forty years ago» 
'no sprig now remains. Several ancient families how- 
'ever are still left, in particular the Popmonets and the 
'Keetohs. 

'The Commissioners of the Society for propagating the 
'gospel in New England during a long course of years hiw 
'perintended these Indians ;'^ and they expended large 
'sums of money for their benefit, — in the salaries of their 
'ministers, in schools for the education of their children, in 
'clothes and food for their poor, and in the journies of com- 
^mittees, who visited them from time to time, for the sake 
'of promoting their improvement in piety and virtue, of 
'listening to their complaints, and redressing their griev- 
'ances. The Report of one of the committees follows 
'^tbis Description ; and it is given as a specimen of 
'the care, with which the Commissioners watched over 
'these Indians. Committees of the legislature have also 
'visited Mashpee, whenever it has been requested ; and 
'have exhausted much time, patience, and money in the 
'service of the inhabitants. It has not however been 
'found easy to satisfy them, or to render them happy : ais 
'the committees could not give them temperance and in- 
'dustry, they have still remained poor, abject, and discon- 
' tented/ 

'It appears from the account which has been given of this 
'plantation, that it has been an expensive establishment 
'from the beginning, but that probably little good has been 
'produced. The Indians have become neither a religious 
'nor a virtuous people, nor have thej' been made happy. No 
'ooe can doubt the pious and benevolent intentions of Rich- 
'ard Bourne, who procured this extensive patent for the 
'Indians ; nor of the gentlemen, who in succession, for a 
'century and a half, have watched over them, like parents 

* * Siinoe the Rerolatiofi tbey bare been under the care of othe^ 
bo^es of men. See CoU. of Hltt« Soc. II. 47. 2d Series.* 



118 Coitectiama of ike (NoT' 

<over their children. The exertions, which have been 
^ made for their benefit, are honourable to the gOTermnent 
*of Massachusetts, and to the societies who have so liberal- 

* \y contributed their time and wealth ; but the melancholy 

< reflection, that they have laboured in vain, perpetually in- 
^ trudes itself on the mind. With a hundredth part of the 

< pains which have been bestowed on these suivages, a town 
'might have been raised up on the ground occupied by 
' them, which would contain four times as many white iiH 
^ habitants, enjoying all the comforts of civilized life, and 

< contributing by their industry to the welfare of the state, 
''and by the faxes, which they pay, to the support of gov- 
^ernment. This plantation may be compared to & pasture, 

* which is capable of feeding fifteen or sixteen hundred 

* sheep ; but into which several good-natured and visionary 

< gentlemen have put three or four hundred wolves, foxes, 
^ and skunks, by way of experiment, with the hope that 

< they might in time be tamed. A shepherd has beeo 

* placed over them at high wages ; and as the animals havs 

* been found to decrease, other w\Dlves, foxes, and akuokf 

< have been allured to the pasture, to keep up their number. 
<But the attempt has been in vain : the wild animals haie 

* worried the shepherd ; have howled, and yelped, and. cast 
' other indignities upon the gentlemen, who from time to 

* tiiiie have visited them, for the sakje of observing how the 

* experiment went on ; and have almost died with hunger, 

< though they have been fed at an enormous expense.— 

< VVhat then, it may he said, do you mean that (his plantatios 
< ought to be broken up, and its inhabitants dispersed? 

< Shall the speculators, who are hovering on its borders, be 

* let in to prey on these natives, and to seize their lands t 

< We answer, no : the plantation was entailed on these la- 

* dians in the days of our forefathers ; nor can they be dis- 
^ possessed of it without an act of injustice. Let them re* 

< main ; and let the pious and benevolent still persevere in 

* then* endeavours, however hopeless, to make them good 
*raen and christians. Perhaps when they cease to be ^ 

* dians, when their blood is more plentifully mixed with tbe | 

< blood of Africa, they may acquire the habits of temper* 

* ance and industry ; and may become useful to the state, in 

* which they have so long been a nuisance : or if not, they 

* are our fellow men, and they are poor men ; they aire io- 

* capable of supporting themselves, and consequently are 
' en!ii!cd to tlie alms of the charitable.' 



1815.] Mas3ar.httsetls Historieat Sociriy. 

Mitcb has been said and writlen aboul Ibe oppression of 
the natives, by tbe firet seflleis in tbh coiiiilij ; muiij 
philaDthropisIs (mve regretted that pains Iiad not been lukeit 
to civilize them ; man,v well meaning, devout people, have 
deplored their lieiitheniah condijioii ; with bow much rea- 
■Dtl and justiee theae complaints Imve been uitered, this ei- 
periment may serve to explain. It nill not be contended, 
that (be expeiimenl ha<« been ilE-condticled, this would be 
iKason against the Slate ; il will no) be said, that it iit iiiju- 
dkioua and extravagant, since il has been under the par- 
lien lar patronage of that most useful inelitulioii, ihe Society 
for propagating the gospel among the Indiana ; it will not be 
■Heged that it haa been hasty and incomplete, far it has 
DOW lasted one hundred and sixty years. We would nut, 
tny more than Ihe humane nriter of this account of Mash- 
pce, ^andon these poor people suddenly ; we would not 
oennsel the slightest violation of l»w to their disadvanlage, 
m would on the contrary insist, that Ihe legislature should 
EMrantee their rights so long as any of the genuine ludiani 
had Ihe amalleat claim to the land ; and preserve their in- 
leresta with the same scrupulous integrity, that Ihe English 
government did the possessions of the Jesuits in Canada, 
who after that order was prohibited from receiving any 
new members, still paid to them all Ihe income of their pro- 
perty, while any of them remained, till for many years their 
■mple revenues were received by only one or two individ- 
uals. But, it is surely lime Ihal the Slate should cease to 
maintain a depot for vagabonds of all colours, from all parts 
of the country ; or keep up an establishment for producing 
every possible variety of cross, belween negroes and In- 
^iuu. The Society for propagating the Gospel having 
tnnaferred their superintendance to the government of ihe 
Univeraity, do nol feel the want of Ihem in llieir annual re- 
tort ; though in the lolal absence of misery and ignorance 
B Ihia country, Ihey would have been much embarrassed 
Tthe extinction of this eslablishnieni ; had nol the recent 
fan for converting the Hindoos, oflered them a resource, 
kbt when all others fail will not be easily exhausted, and 
he acknowledged superfluity of wealth possessed by our 
earned and charitable institutions, can now be sent to Ihe 
Continent of Asia. Some short-sighled people, !l is true, 
complain, that we are suffering for want of a hospital in this 
jtf c t r a pot i i) • but what is Ihia privslion compared wilh Uw 



I 



12t Colleciiona of th€ t^oT. 

^ The two tribes were hostile to each olher. Tradition 
/ has preserved a pleasing instance of the force of love. The 
'western tribe having determined to surprise and attack the 
^eastern tribe, a young man of the former, whose mistress 
^ belonged to the latter, being anxious for her safety, as socm 

* as he was concealed by the shades of night, ran to the 
' beach, flew along the shore below the limit of high water,saw 

* his mistress a moment, gave her the alarm, and returned 
^ by the same route before day-break : the rising tide wash- 
'ed away the traces of his feet. The next morning he ac- 

* coiupanied the other warriours of the tribe to the attack : 
' the ^nemy was found prepared ; and no impression could 

* be made on them. He remained undetected, till aeveral 

* years after peace being restored between the two tribes, 

< and the young man having married the girl, the truth came 

* to light.* 

The fifth paper in this volume is a description of Duke's 
County containing much minute detail, which serves the 
purpose of these collections by accumulating materials 
for history. We select from it a single passage, both for its 
mention of the oldest vestige of the European emigrants ia 
this part of the Continent, and also for the romantick and 
secure spot they selected. In describing the Elizabeth 
Islands, the writer makes the following remarks on one of 
them. 

^Cuttyhunk has cliiTs of clay, which are continually 

* breaking down, and of consequence the island is diminish- 
' ing. The other Elizabeth Islands are also wasting gradu- 
*a!ly. *' At the west end, on the north side, is a pond of 

* fresh water, three quarters of a mile in length. In the 
^ middle of its breadth, near the west end, is a rocky islet, 
^icontaining near an acre of ground."* On this islet Dr. 

* Belknap, in 1797, hacj the satisfaction of finding the cellar 

< of a store house, which was built by Gosnold, when he 

* discovered the Elizabeth Islands in 1602. It is a vestige 

< of the first work performed by Europeans on the New- 

* England shores. Here they first penetrated the earth; 

* here the first edifice was erected. Only two centuries 

* have passed away ; and from this humble beginning have 

* arisen cities, numerous, large, and fair, in which are enjoy- 
*ed all the refined delights of civilized life.* 

The sixth article is a return of the number of slaves, ia 
Massachusetts in 1754, copied from the returns in the Se- 

* Belknap's Bias. IL 114. 



U15.] Massachusetls Historical Society. lOT 

trtUkry of Stafe*s office ; some towns are wanting, but the 
whole number given in was 2713. The State probably 
contained about three thousand. This may serve to en- 
eonrage those states, who still hold a/cw slaves, and who 
can allege none of the reasons for it, that are assigned by 
the southern states, to imitate our example, and free them- 
selves from this blot on their institutions. 

There is a very copious account of Plymouth ; one of 
the most interesting towns in the history of Massachusetts, 
the place of the first landing of the forefathers of New-Eng- 
land. We shall extract from an anecdote, respecting the 
rock oh which they landed. 

* Forefather's Rock, The face of this rock was, in the 
'year 177 5y taken from its original bed, and placed by the 

* side of a * liberty pole,* which at that time was erected 
' near the Court House, and where the rock still remains. 

* The base of the rock yet continues, in open view, in its 

* original situation, at the head of the longest wharf in Ply- 
^ mouth, built on the precise spot which uniform tradition 

* assigns as its scite. There is a tradition, as to the person 

* who first leaped upon this rock, when the families came 
*on shore, Dec. 11, 1620 : it is said to have been a young 
^ woman, Mary Chilton.* This information comes from a 
'source so correct, as induces us to admit it ; and it is a 
' very probable circumstance, from the natural impatience 
*in a young person, or any one, after a long confinement en 
'ship board, to reach the land, and to escape from the 
'crowded boat. We leave it therefore, as we find it, in 
' the hands of history, and the fine arts. 

In the description of Kingston, which follows that of 
Plymouth, there is a repartee to an illiberal remark of the 
famous Whitfield, that is worth transcribing. 

s 

* * Among those who came in the May Flower, were, Richard ChiN 

* Ion, (who died the fird winter) Mary and Susanna Chilton. Mary, it 
' is said, married Mr. John Winslow ; and Susanna. Mr. Liatham. 

* Tlie descendants of Mr. Winslow are in Boston ; and of Mr. La- 
tham, in Bridgewatcr. The tradition, we have reason to believe, is 
' in both families. Wc are disposed, however, to generalise the anec- 

* dote. The first generation doubtless knew who came on shore in the 
' first boats ; the second generation related it with less identity ; the 
' third and fourth with still less ; like the stone thrown on the calm 

* lake, the circles, well defined at first, become fainter as they recede. 
' For the purposes of the art<{, however, a fejnale figure, typical of 

* &ith» hope, and charity, Is well adapted.' 



124 Collect ioH8 of the [Not. 

* In a GOQipany of gentlemen, where Father Flynt, who 

* waa a preacher, and many years a tutor at Cambridge, was 

* present, Mr. WhitBeld said : *^ It is my opinion, that Dr. 
< Tillotson is now in hell for his heresy." Father Flynt 

* replied, <* It is my opinion, that you will not meet him 
« there." ' 

The Society have continued in this volume the republic 
cation of a curious book now very scarce, published in 
1633, written by Mr. Johnson of Wobum, it is called 

* Wonder-working Providence of Sion's Saviour in New 
^England,' and contains many facts relating to the charac- 
ters and events of that period. The part contamed in the 
present volume principally relates to the first gathering of 
the churches, and to a description of their pastors ; every 
character is given in rhyme, as well as in prose. The 
verses are of the school of Sternhold and Hopkins, but, 
though lost on common readers, would be a pearl to the 
Antiquary. There is also a private letter from an officert 
Major Savage, who commanded one of the Regiments in 
I he expedition of Sir W. Phipps against Quebec ; this let- 
ter which had become extremely scarce, affords some iiK 
teresting facts relating to that expedition. 

The only piece of Biography is the life, or as it is called 
by the author < Notices of General Lincoln ;' it is written 
with plainness and without pretension, and bears marks oi 
an able band. General Lincoln was one of the patriots 
and heroes of the revolution, whom we have always regard* 
ed with peculiar veneration and respect. There was a 
calm dignity in his manner, a graceful mildness in his de« 
meanour, blended with steady firmness and cool intrepidity 
in his disposition, that softened and ennobled all the harsh 
and ferocious characteristicks of his profession. We have 
seldom seen a man in any country, who had more the ap* 
pearance of the gentleman, who possessed more of the spot- 
less integrity and genuine honour, that commands such high 
respect for military men, when combined with the other re- 
quisites of a soldier. We shall extract the conclusion of 
this memoir. 

* In General Lincoln's character, strength and softness, 

* the estimable and amiable qualities were happily blended. 

* His mind was quick and active, yet discriminating and 

* sound. He displayed a fund of thought and information, 
^ derived from select, though limited reading, from carefid 

* observation of men and things, from habits of thinking) 






f 



mis.} MoBsaehuseiU Historical Society. 125 

* and from converBation. A degree of enthusiasm, or ex- 
' altafioa of feeling upon the objects of his pursuit, belonged 

* to his temperament, but it was under the control of good 

* sense and sober views. He was patient and cool in de- 

* liberatioD ; in execution, prompt and vigorous. A real and 
'effeetive, but not forward or bustling energy pertained to 
' his character. His virtues maintained their proper bounds 
*and were well tempered together. He was conspicuous 
' for plain, strict, inflexible integrity, united however with 

* pmdeoce, candour, a liberal and compassionate disposi- 
'tion. He had, it was said, by constitution, strong pas- 
'sioos, but they were so disciplined by reason and religion, 
' ind qnalified and counteracted by good sentiments and 

* generous feelings, that they never betrayed him into any 

* extravagance, nor suffered him to give way to any im- 

* pulse of anger. His composure and self possession, his 
'exempti<Hi from any apparent weakness or folly, his uniform 
'discretion and integrity made him revered, whilst the 
'goodnesB of bis disposition, and bis frank and cordial man- 
'nera, engaged affectionate regard. He knew how to ex- 
'ercise command without exciting aversion. Paying defer* 
'eoce to the rights and feelings of others, whether present 
'or absent, his own were not likely to suffer injury or in- 
'mit. He made no extraordinary demands of attention, 
' but had an exact perception of propriety in intercourse. 
'By an expressive look, which was understood, by an 
'anecdote, by pleasant irony,or more directly, he was sure 
'to notice and to repress any symptoms of impertinence or 
'ndenesB which any might show in his presence. 

'He was always an early riser, temperate in his habits, 

'Gragal without parsimony, diligent and methodical in his 

'httinesa, and able to do much without inconvenience or 

'korry. The qualities and habits mentioned, with a ra- 

'tional religious faith and sincere piety, would naturally be 

'ittended by ease and health of heart. Oen. Lincoln was 

'ikabitually cheerful, and was accustomed to look on the 

'bright side of objects. He was tender, but not given to 

'indulging the wail of sensibility, or a spirit of repining and 

'discontent. He believed in the great preponderance of 

'good in the humaA condition ; often mentioning particular- 

'ly the resources ana comforts accommodated to the suc- 

^ceaaive periods of life, as affording proofs of the goodness 

'of the Creator. He thought gratitude, acquiescence and 

^kopo a tribute^ at all times due to a wise and benevolent 



124 ColUi^tioHs of the [No¥. 

* In a compny of gentlemen, where Father Flynt, who 

* was a preacher, and many years a tutor at Cambridge, was 

* present, Mr. WhitBeld said : " It is my opinion, that Dr. 

* Tillotson is now in hell for his heresy." Father Flynt 

* replied, <* It is my opinion, that you will not meet him 

* there." ' 

The Society have continued in this volume the republi* 
cation of a curious book now very scarce, published in 
1633, written by Mr. Johnson of Woburn, it ia called 

* Wonder-working Providence of Sion's Saviour in New 
^England,' and contains many facts relating to the charac- 
ters and events of that period. The part contained in the 
present volume principally relates to the first gathering of 
the churches, and to a description of their pastors ; every 
character is given in rhyme, as well as in prose. The 
verses are of the school of Sternhold and Hopkins, but* 
though lost on common readers, would be a pearl to the 
Antiquary. There is also a private letter from an officer^ 
Major Savage, who commanded one of the Regiments in 
Ihe expedition of Sir W. Phipps against Quebec ; this let*- 
ter which had become extremely scarce, affords some in- 
teresting facts relating to that expedition. 

The only piece of Biography is the life, or as it is caUed 
by the author * Notices of General Lincoln ;' it is written 
with plainness and without pretension, and bears marks of 
an able band. General Lincoln was one of the patriots 
and heroes of the revolution, whom we have always regard* 
ed with peculiar veneration and respect. There was a 
calm dignity in his manner, a graceful mildness in his de« 
meanour, blended with steady firmness and cool intrepidity 
in his disposition, that softened and ennobled all the harsh 
and ferocious characteristicks of his profession. We have 
seldom seen a man in any country, who had more the ap* 
pearance of the gentleman, who possessed more of the spot- 
less integrity and genuine honour, that commands such high 
respect for military men, when combined with the other re* 
quisites of a soldier. We shall extract the conclusion of 
this memoir. 

* In General Lincoln's character, strength and softness, 

* the estimable and amiable qualities were happily blended. 
< His mind was quick and active, yet discriminating and 

* sound. He displayed a fund of thought and information, 
^ derived from select, though limited reading, from carefol 

* observation of men and things, from habits of thinkings 



■His.] Masmchusetts Historical Society- 

'and from conversalion. A degree of enUiusiasra, or es- 
'aJlalion of feeling upon Ihe objeuls of his [lui'dutl, belonged 
'to bis letnperainenl, bul il was under Ihe control of good 
'lense anii sober views. He was patient and cool in de- 
'UberalioD ; in execiilion, prompt and vigorous. A real and 
'elective, bul nol forward or bustling energy pertained to 
'liis cliaracler. His virtues ntainlained their proper bounds 
'and were well tempered logeliier. He was conspicuous 
'for plain, sirici, inflexible integrity) united however with 
'[irtiaeiice, candour, a liberal and compassionate disposi- 
'tion. He bad, it was said, by constitution, strong pas- 
'lions, but tbey were so disciplined by reason and religion, 
'ind qualified and coiinleracled by good sf^ntiments and 
'generous feelings, that they never betrayed him into any 
'nlravagance, nor sulTereil him to give way to hqj im- 
'pulse of anger. His composure and self possession, his 
'exemption from any apparent weakness or folly, his uniform 
'discretion and integrity made him revered, whilst Ihe 
'goodness of his disposition, and his Crank and cordial mari- 
'nerB, eugaged aEfeclionate regard. He knew how to ex- 
'ercise command wilhoul exciting aversion. Paying defer- 
'tnce to the rights and feelings of others, whether present 
'arsbsent, his own were not likely to suffer injury or !n- 
'tiilt. He made no extraordinary demands of allentioo, 
'but had an esaci perception of propriety in intercourse. 
'By an expressive look, which was understood, by an 
'uecdole, by pleasant irony, or more directly, he was sure 
'to notice and to repress any symptomB of impertinence or 
'ntdftness which any might show in his presence. 
*He was always an early riser, temperate in his habits, 
ku^l without parsimony, diligent and methodiral in his 
pusinesfl, and able to do much without inconvenience or 
The qualities and habits mentioned, with a rn- 
^Honai religious faith and sincere piety, would naturally be 
'tttutded by ease and health of heart. Gen. Lincoln was 
'habitually cheerful, and was accustomed to look on the 
'bright side of objects. Ue was tender, but uol given to 
I 'indulging the wail of sensibility, or a spirit of repining and 
'discontent. He believed in ihe great preponderance of 
'tood in Ihe humaii condition ; often mentioning particular- 
'ly Ihe resources ana comforls accommodated to the buc- 
'cessive periods of life, as afTording proofs of the goodness 
'of the Creator. He thought gratitude, acquiescence and 
'bope a tribute, at all limes due to a wise and benevolent 



126 CoUeclioM of the « |Nor. 

' Providence. He ivas called to eocounler adversity in 

. * different forms ; some of which were of a oatare to di»- 

'hearten an ordinary man ; but his fortitude and eqoaDimitjr 

' never forsook him, and he always maintained an erect at- 

* titude. 

^ Asa military commander, he was jodicioas, brave,. de- 
' termined, indefatigable. His distinguished merit in this 
' character was never denied ; whilst all have not agreed 
' in opinion upon some of his plans in the southern com- 

* mand. Being a soldier of the revolution, he had to antici- 
' pale the effect of experiencci and might commit mistakes. 

* He was surrounded by difiBculties : he met extraortlinary 
' disappointments in his calculations upon supplies and sue- 

* coiirs. In the principal instances which issued unforta- 
' nately, the storming of Savannah and the siege ot Cbarles- 

* ton, he had but a choice of evils ; and which ever way be 
' decided, the course rejected would have seemed, to many 

* persons, more eligible. He had true courage without 
'rashness. His calmness in danger seemed like uncon- 
'cern ; but he affirmed that he never was exposed, witfaont 
'feeling deeply interested for his own life and the lives of 

* others. 

' At the siege of Savannah, the British commander, Gen. 
*' Prevost, when he had determined to defend the place and 
' apprehended a storm by the besiegers, requested the com* 
' manding generals of the allied army to suffer him to send 
'out of Savannah the women and children. The refusal of 
' this request has been condemned as inhuman by an English 
' historian of the war,^ and as unaccountable by an American 
' writer of the southern campaigns. f The generals consid- 
' ered the British commander, under the circumstances, ad 
' responsible, and had strong military reasons for the refu- 
' sal. They were so situated in respect to time, that they 
'must succeed soon, or not at all ; and they doubtless were 
' confident of carrying the place. The answer of the 
' British commander's request intimates the grounds of re« 
' fusal.J 

* ' Stedman/ t * Gen. H. Lee.* 

f • Sir, Camp btfore Savannah^ Oct. 6, 1779. 

' We are persuaded that your excellency knows all that yoyr 
' duty prescribes ; perhaps your zeal has already interfered with yoor 
* Judgment. The Count d*£staing, in his own name, notified to yoi, 
' that you would be personally and alone responsible for the gdom^ 
' qnences of your obstinacy. The time, which yon informed hiai ii 
' the commencement of the siege would be necessary for the arrai^ 



1815.J Maswkusitts Historical Societt/. 127 

' la civil functions of a publick nature, such as the office 
^ of Lieut. Governour, magistrate, and member of the legis- 

* lalure or other political bodies, he took the plain way of 

* probity and patriotism, not despising popular favour, but 
^ never pursuing it as an end, and never thinking it an equi* 
^ valent for the sacrifice of principle. By the change of 

* political parties in the Commonwealth, his agency in sup 

* porting the laws and suppressing the insurrection came, 

* at one time, to be considered as demerit, and the office 

* of Lieut. Oovernour, when held by him, was, by this 
' sinister influence, deprived of the limited salary, which 
Mfae second magistrate of the state had always before 

* received. 

'General Lincoln was a federalist of the Washington 
^ichooL From 1801, the party, which had opposed the 
'federal administration, held the supreme power in the 
' general government. He experienced the benefit of his 

* weight of character, and the sense entertained by the 

* community of his publick services, in being suffered to 
'retain his office of collector. 

' Religion exerted its full influence over the miiid and 
' conduct of General Lincoln. He was a christian of the 
' tntisectarian, catholic, or liberal sect. He was firm in 
'his faith, serious and affectionate in his piety, without 
' superstition, fanaticism or austerity. He was from early 
' manhood a communicant, and for a great part of his life 
'a deacon of the church. He never shunned an avowal 
'of his belief, nor feared to appear what he was, nor per- 
' mitted the reality of his convictions to remain in doubt. 
' But avoiding ostentation and bitterness, thinking the ex- 
'ceUence of the tree more apparent in the fruit than the 
'leaves, and being a good man, the best proof of being a 
'good christian, he was able to reconcile fidelity to his 
' religioo with the spirited and graceful exercise of his mili- 
' tarj fiisctions and all the offices of civil and social life. 

*ineiit ef articles, iacludiDg the different orders af men in yoor town» 
'had no other object than that of receiving succour. Such conduct. Sir, 
*i8 sufficient to forbid every intercourse between us, which might 
'occasion the least loss of time; besides, in the present application, 
' ktent reasoos may again exist ; there are military ones, which, in 
^£pe%ueBt histances, have prevented the indulgence you request. It 

* 11 with regret that we yield to the austerity of oar functions ; and we 

* 4epkNr8 the fate of tliose personSy who will be * the victims of your 
'mdnct. and the delusion which appears to prevail in your mind.* 



1S8 CollectionB of the MoBiajBhuaettSf Ac. 

Amidst the licence so commoo in armies, no profane 
expression or irreverent sally escaped his lips ; and no 
stain came upon the puritj of his life. 

* The person and air of General Lincoln betokened bis 
military vocation. He was of middle height, and erect, 
broad chested, muscular, in his latter years corpulent, 
with open, intelligent features, a venerable and benign 
aspect. His manners were easy and unaffected, bot coor^ 
teous and polite. He delighted in children, and made 
himself loved by them. He admitted young persons of 
merit to his intimacy ; let them into his sentiments on in- 
teresting subjects, and was forward to aid their reputa- 
tion and advancement in the world. He had a high relish 
for the pleasures of conversation, in which he bore his 
part without tediousness or prolixity, with good sense, 
delicate raillery, well timed anecdote, and always a moral 
vein. He was a constant and zealous friend. If his 
judgment was ever surprised by his feelings, it was when 
he was requested to take pecuniary responsibilities for an 
old companion in arms, which subjected him to much 
temporary inconvenience, though not great ultimate loss. 

* His house was the seat of red hospitality. The acces- 
sion to his income, during the last twenty years of his 
life, was applied to a decent provision for his advancii^ 
age, to the mcrease of his charities, and to the benefit of 
his numerous |family. Be twice made a distribution of 
considerable sums among his children. As they had good 
habits, and knew the use of property, he thought it unne- 
cessary to leave their claims upon bis estate to be cbiefljr 
or wholly answered by his executor. 

< He lived in great conjugal happiness with the wife of 
his youth more than fifty five years, and had sons and 
daughters, in whom, and in their descendants, he found 
the greatest solace. He saw his children established 
chiefly in his town or in neighbouring places. His eldest 
son, a lawyer of rising reputation in Boston, died much 
lamented at twenty eight years of age. In these domestick 
relations, General Lincoln was distinguished by hia accu- 
rate and amiable discharge of every duty. 

< May the principles and virtues of such men aa Generd 
Lincoln be exemplified in successive generations in onr 
country, that the blessings purchased by the wisdom aid 
valour of the fathers may be inherited by the children tn 
the latest time. < P. C 



1815.] Latin Claaaicks. 129 

Af the conclusion oF the book is given a correspondence 
respecting Hubbard's M>i. History, which we only notice to 
do away the itnpression which seeius to be entertained^ that 
the imperfect sheets may be recovered from Dr. Oliver ; 
iccident made us acquainted with the circumstances of the 
correspondence. As for Dr. Oliver, his letter requires no 
comment, it furnishes a very correct idea, of what kind of 
person he is, but the society appear to think that he has 
the Ms. This is not the case ; when he found such a thing 
was inquired for, he immediately wrote to Mr. Hutchinson, 
a son of the late Oovernor Hutchinson, hoping he might 
have the Ms. and desirous of getting it into his possession ; 
when he could not succeed in this, pretending to have it, 
he wrote the precious epistle here published. 



If. Thdii Ciceronis opera omnia^ ex recensione novissima 
lo. Auiftinti Ernestiy cum ejusdem notis et clave Cicero^ 
niana. Edltio' prima Americana Tom. 8. Boatoniae. 
Wells et Lilly. 

We have hitherto neglected, what was from the first our 
wish and intention, the saying a few words in favour of the 
undertaking of our publishers, to give a complete edition of 
the ancient classic ks, if sufficient patronage could be obtained 
for this important enterprise. They commenced with the 
worVs of Cicero, of which the volume at the head of this 
Article has been recently published. Those who knew how 
perfectly Mr. Wells was qualified for the task, anticipated 
the correctness with which it has been thus far executed. 
The edition, without any useless hixury of ornament, comr 
bines neatness, convenience and beauty. Among the nu- 
merous editions of Cicero, this which has been selected, is 
universally admitted to be one of the most accurate and conL- 
piete ; prepared by one of the latest, as well as one of the 
ablest, of the commentators who have profitted, with the great- 
est Care and fidelity, by all that was valuable in the annotations 
of previous editors. All who have examined the previous 
volumes agree, that this American edition is not surpassed 
in accuracy by any of those of Europe. 

Persons who wish to make a present to a young man in 
whom they take an interest, can offer no book more valuable 
Ikaa Cicero. There is no author whose whole works may 

Vol. IL No. 4. n 



130 Latin Classickg. [Not. 

be so safelj entrusted to jouth and innocence. The j contain 
no wild metaphysicks to pervert bis mind, or licentious sen- 
timents to corrupt bis morals. Money can never be lost, 
invested in this great classick. His works will always pos- 
sess a standard value. There is another circumstance, that 
will have some weight with those who are versed in the 
mysteries of bibliography ; the edition is not a large one, 
and a copy of ihe first American edition will hereafter pos- 
sess a peculiar value. 

To dwell i!pon the merits of Cicero, at this period, would 
indeed be ^preposterous ; it would be exposing ourselves to 
receive the answer given to the old Greek Sophist for his 
eulogy on Hercules, ^* who ever thought of blaming him?" But 
we cannot refrain from remarking, how strongly he ought to 
excite the admiration and reverence, of all the lovers of 
freedom and republican governments. He, beyond all other 
great characters of antiquity, deserves the homage of virtu- 
ous and enlightened freemen. He, of all others, is the model 
which should be taken, to excite the emulation of talents, 
patriotism, and virtuous ambition. There is no other who 
may so safely be held up to the imitation of young men 
of liberal education, who are destined to pursue a course 
of publick speaking and political life. His legal science and 
skill, his eloquence, his sound principles of politicks, philoso- 
phy and morality, were acknowledged by his contemporaries, 
and will be reverenced by all succeeding ages, so long as team- 
ing and virtue shall have any votaries on earth. High ai 
his fame was elevated, it yet remains unshaken. < It was t 
* solid fabrick and has supported the laurels which adorq it.* 
Before the tribunals of justice he was the protector of inno- 
cence, the avenger of the injured, the dread of traitors, and 
the scourge of profligate tyrants in power. He governed 
the councils of the republick at the height of its splendour and 
prosperity, and when it fell a prey to faction and conspiracy, 
he resigned his head without resistance to the executioner. 
From bis days to our own, no government has ever existed, 
where this illustrious man could have pursued the same 
course, or held the same rank. Under our institutions, 
should the same combination of virtue and talents again ap- 
pear, /after a lapse of two thousand years, it may follow the 
same exalted destiny, from the bar to the senate, from 'the 
senate to the chief magistracy. Should such a man ever 
again exist, may his own fate and that of his country be more 
auspicious. 



1815.J 



Meteorological Journals, 



13] 



METEOROLOGICAL JOURNALS. 

Cambridge, by Professor Fariiar. 



AUGUST, 1815. 





Buoneter. 




Thermometer. 


1 FaceofSlcy. 1 Winds. 


• 








• 




• 


• 

5 




• 


• 


i 




• 




• 


• 




• 

<5 




• 


* • 

On 


t* 


01 


Od 


t^ 


c« 


Od 


I- 


o» 


►* 


o» 


1 


29.85 


29.78 


29.91 


78 


90 


68 


CIo. 


tair 


W. 


IV.W.l 


2 


29.94 


29.92 


29.93 


62 


78 


66 


Fair 


CIo. 


N.W. 


w. 


3 


29.95 


29.91 


29.95 


57 


74 


57 


Fair 


Fair 


N.W.2 


N.W.I 


4 


29.97 


29.93 


29.92 


53 


76 


64 


Fair 


Fair 


N.W.I 




5 


29.81 


29.69 


29.74 


65 


72 


63 


CIo. 


CIo. 


S.W. 


E. 


t 


29.71 


29.89 


29.99 


57 


71 


58 


CIo. 


Fair 


N.W.2 


N.W. 


7 


30.07 


30.04 


30.08 


54 


78 


65 


Fair 


Fair 


W. 


W. 


t 


30.14 


30.15 


30.16 


63 


75 


63 


Fair 


CIo. 


N. 


E.1 


9 


30.16 


30.17 


30.13 


62 


74 


56 


CIo 


Fair 


N.l 


N.W. 


10 


30.15 


30.11 


30.02 


62 


70 


63 


CIo. 


CIo. 


E. 


S. 


11 


30.00 


29.97 


30.00 


62 


70 


60 


CIo. 


CIo. 


S.E.I 


s. 


12 


30.14 


30.12 


30.11 


63 


76 


61 


CIo. 


CIo. 


N.l 


N.E.2 


f3 


30.03 


30.01 


30.01 


58 


64 


62 


CIo. 


CIo. 


N.E.2 


N.l 


14 


29.09 


29.95 


29.94 


62 


73 


62 


CIo. 


Fair 


E. 


W.l 


16 


30.00 


29.97 


30.04 


62 


83 


67 


CIo. 


CIo. 


W.l 


S.W. 


16 


30.05 


30.06 


29.94 


64 


73 


65 


CIo. 


CIo. 


S.W. 


s.w. 


17 


29.93 


30.01 


30.11 


64 


70 


63 


CIo. 


CIo. 


N. 


N. 


18 


30.19 


30.15 


30.17 


64 


72 


65 


CIo. 


CIo. 


E. 


E. 


19 


30.02 


30.02 


30.00 


70 


75 


66 


CIo. 


CIo. 


N.E. 


N. 


90 


30.00 


29.96 


29.94 


65 


68 


65 


CIo. 


CIo. 


N. 


. w. 


21 


29.98 


29.97 


29.98 


62 


69 


63' 


CJo. 


CIo. 


N. 


N.E. 


22 


29.99 


30 00 


30.02 


62 


68 


60 


CIo. 


CIo. 


N.E. 


N.E. 


23 


30.08 


30.09 


30.11 


62 


67 


62 


CIo. 


CIo. 


N.E. 


N.E. 


24 


30.14 


30.11 


30.06 


63 


71 


62 


CIo. 


CIo. 


E. 


E.2 


26 


30.03 


30.04 


30.04 


62 


67 


60 


CIo. 


CIo. 


N.E.f 


N.E. 


26 


30.01 


30.02 


30.01 


65 


81 


70 


CIo. 


Fair 


S.W. 


W. 


27 


30.06 


30.04 


30.12 


64 


82 


62 


Fair 


Fair 


N.W, 


W. 


28 


30.18 


30.22 


30.26 


60 


78 


64 CIo. 


Fair 


W. 


E. 


29 


30.31 


30.14 


30.25 


64 


78 


65 


Fair 


Fair 


E. 


W. 


ao 


30jao 


30.15 


30.12 


68 


90 


71 


Fair 


CIo. 


W. 


s.w. 


31 


30.02 


29.98 


29.99 


67 


68 


68 


Fair 


Fair 


N.E.3 


N.E.2 


30.31 30^ 1 30.26 i 78 


90 


71 Greatest. 






30.035 30.024 | 30.034 (62.77 


73.55 


1 63.45 Mean. 








129.71 


1 29.69 


29.74 I 


53| 


64 


56 


Least 


• 







Shoirer oa the 1st, P. M. ; on the 3d, A. M. ; on the 5th, A. M. ; 
on the 14th, P. M. ; on the 19th, P. M. ; on the 20th, P. M. ; and a 
great rain, from the 16th to the iSth. Whole quantity of rain during 
Um mooth, 5,32 inches. 



MtUorologieal JowuaU. 



[Not. 









SEPTEMBER 


1815. 










F>»or8kr. 


WioA, 






g 


S 


si 


S 


E 


S 


S 


s 


E 


E 


i 


■^' 


e- 


Ch 


^ 


^ 


h 


^ 


a; 


^ 


b 


t- 


m 


a 


r- 


IN 


01 


t- 




t- 


e> 




311.26 


J0.20 


30.29 


-w 


68 


52 


kST 


fSf 


N.W.3 


~wr 


2 


30.17 


30.14 


30.09 


61 


78 


«3 






,N.W. 


S.W. 


3 


30.07 


30.06 


30.22 


63 


73 


65 


Cio. 


Clo. 


S.W. 


N.W. 


4 


30.U9 


30.37 


30.38 


48 


79 


48 


Fair 


Clo. 


N.E. 


E. 


S 


3U.34 


30.16 


30.07 


50 


66 


65 


Cto. 


cto. 


E. 


N.E.1 


6 


29.87 


29.69 


29.75 


55 


67 


63 


Clo. 


Fair 


N.E.1 


N.W. 


7 


2B.9S 


30.00 


30.07 


55 


76 


67 


Fair 


Fair 


Vf. 


W. 


8 


30.23 


30 J» 


30.27 


67 


80 


63 


Fair 


Fair 


w. 


W. 


9 


30.37 


30^ 


30.26 


68 


77 


67 


Clo. 


Fair 


E. 


W. 


10 


30.21 


30,05 


30.09 


66 


88 


73 


Fair 


Fair 


S.W. 


S.W. 


11 


30.10 


30.86 


30.17 


71 


87 


68 


Fair 


Clo. 


8.W. 


N.K. 


12 


30.14 


30.12 


30.15 


66 


69 


69 


Clo. 


Clo. 


E. 


N. 


13 


30.04 


30.08 


30,05 


64 


8S 


62 


Cte. 


0(0. 


N.E. 


N. 


14 


30.01 


29.33 


28.80 


64 


84 


67 


Clo. 


Fair 


S.W. 


S.W. 


l/S 


29.sg 






50 


80 


76 


Fair 


Clo. 


«.w. 


S.W. 


16 


21t.B0 


29.83 


29.83 


64 


82 


70 


Clo. 


Clo. 


S.K. 


S.W. 


17 


29.78 


29.79 


20,88 


74 


T8 


62 


Clo, 


Clo. 


w. 


S.E. 


18 


29.78 


29.87 


30.07 


64 


64 


61 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N.W. 


N.W. 


19 


30,20 


29.87 


30.30 


52 


62 


49 


Fair 


Fair 


N.F_ 


W.2 


20 


30.36 


30.39 


30.42 


44 


60 


46 


Fair 


Fair 


N.W. 


8.B. 


21 


30.41 


30.42 


30.44 


60 


68 


50 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N.E.1 


N.B. 


22 


30.46 


30.45 


30,39 


60 


63 


53 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N.t. 


N.E.S 


23 


20.BS 


29.71 


29.90 


53 


65 


62 


Clo. 


Fwr 


N.E.3 


S.W.1 


24 


3U.03 


30.03 


30.11 


61 


65 


50 


Clo. 


Clo. 


W.2 


W. 


2.1 


30.22 


30.23 


30.20 


49 


72 


52 


Fair 


Fair 


W. 


W. 


26 


30.22 


30.14 


30.11 


52 


78 


56 


Fair 


Fair 


w. 


W. 


2T 


3U.14 


30.20 


30.26 


.«. 


79 


50 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N. 


NJt 


28 


30.38 


30;34 


30,25 


37 


68 


48 


Fair 


Clo. 


N.l 


W. 


29 


30.23 


33.14 


30.10 


48 


71 


57 


Fair 


Fair 


N. 


S.W. 


30 


30.1.T 3o.ai 


30.02 


53 72 


an 


Fair Fair 


N.W. 


w. 




aO.flB 1 30.4.^ 


30.44 


7i( 1 88 1 75 Greatest. 








30 122 hw Ml 


30.I2S 


iB.^!72.3|JT-8 Mean. 








29.50 


29,69 


29.75 


37 


63 


45 


Least 









A sitowcr on tlie 3d, io the morning ; on the 1 1th, P. M. ; on tte 
12th. P. M. ; on the 14th. P. M. ; on the 17th, P. IH. ; on tlie IBtb, 
hesTy rain iliiriiig: the nii;ht ; on the 22d, rain throogb the daj. 
Whole quantity of ra^n. 4^,86 inches. 

Oh the 2Bth'earlj in the evening, an aurora borealii. It TeOoi m 
iMHalilpanare^iilararchof a dark floudj aspect, rising tenor Mnca 
degrees fmra llie horiaon, and fiztending fifty or sixty degrees each 
way from the magnetlrk north. Thfre nvre afrm pcryrndiciifar flriam- 
ers iett* the iteadt/ f.juuhle ligk' 6Vtr Ike arck, that somiitintes «lio< 
lip twenty or thirty dn-reLt, ivith a sort of twinkling, inlermitlenl 
light. It died away gradually, and disappeared about 11 o'clock 
l^tan were viiible through the cloodj' arch at the bottom. 



1115.] Meteorological Jeumala,. 



Beunswick, BowDotN College. 



AUGUST, 1815. 





TherinomMcr 






B:i 


t>m«* 


r. 


_Wi_ 


Is. 


w™ 


lIlfT 




< 

Si 


s 




ll 


ll 




% 




if 


S 


2<a 








■'5 J 




W 


sV 




T 







7 


ti4 


) 1 




^E 




p 


P 




3 








1 1 






Fa. 


Cloudy 







4 




1 


WW 




Pa> 


Cloudy 




I 




63 


1 ■ 


w 


sw 


P 


lUm. 




! 






1 








HW 




F 


Faj 




i« 




MS 










ad 




3W 


F 


Fsi 










5i 






jooa 


JOOJ 


NF 


s 


P 


Fai 




(0 


2 


H3 


335 




10 00 


-em 


"las 




s 


F 


Fai 




■^0 




Si 






94 


■915 


-non 


s 


p 


Pai 


Fm 






^ 




<3 











8G 


ll. 


Clrwdy 


Cloud, 


12 


Si 


H 


SS 


52 




iOOl 


iOO- 


30 03 


E 


B 


R 


Rain 


13 


is 


9S 


J7 












■VE 


NE 




M t 


U 


ra 


72 5 


•0 


SB 






«!7i 


^73 


NW 




Cloudj 


F 


15 


sa 


S 


7 






Bl 


S3 


3ii^ 


W 


3 W 


F 


P 


IB 


?3 






50 






J9 J 




aw 


SH 


Fu 


Rai 


17 


las 


TO 




BOS 




8^ 


■qH') 


I ; 


(VE 


E 


\1 L 


Lloudy 


IB 


Hfi 


75 7 


■4 


KO 




10 05 


^01 


JOOO 


S« 


8 F 


Cloudy 


Cloudy 


ID 




7 




bl 








^a 




F 


M 




30 


.3 


-3 


JS 


TO 2 




•o 


JO 


■qjo 


NP 




Fg 


Cl'^dy 


21 










77 






-oaj 


NE 


E 


Mut 


Cl«dy 


3S 


4 


1 




.05 




Id? 


Ha7 


ZOfiO 


NB 


E 


M t 


Vli.t. 


33 














It 05 


29 9B 


NF 




Cloudy 


P 


a 








57 




000 




219 99 


SE 




CI dy 


Cloudy 


29 




2 




54 




B3 


z^uq 


fflH4 


E 


ti L 


Cloudy 


R 


W 














iost 


20 80 


N W 




M 


CI dy 


27 


brt 






SIT 








004 


« * 


hW 


Uoidy 


F 






71 


15 


5 5 




lOO 


iOO 


30 87 


N» 




F 


Cloudy 


a 


■3 




















Cloud 


Cloud 


a 




i 




5S 








02 


BW 


sw 


Ffli 


Cloud 




n2 







5(1 




■) 1 


d 


2-18 


N 


N 


Cloody'P 



Snai{B2 |72.7 |b2.T|i3.4 |74.7 |12B.8H |2D.a(>|ffi.ab|| 



Hnd tempenture deduced from three obserr&tionfi eacb day 6.^.72* 
ditto maxiniaol' heat and cold 64.06 

Hub presgnreoftheatmoiiphere - - 29.86 in. 
(intteatiiioatbly range of barometer • .67 

a»iB ao2 



TbuDdw on the Ut, Stb, 12Ui, 14th, and » 



134 fifq^lemfrcr fitf orm. (Not. 



CAMBRIDGE. 

The terrible siorm on the 23d of this month, was veiy leverel j 
felt in this place. The wind was east in the morning, and pretty 
strong. Between 9 and 10 o'clock in the forenoon it shifted to 
the south-east, and afterwards to the south. It appears to have 
been most violent about the time of its changing, both before and 
after, for chimneys were blown both to the west and north, but 
shingles and slates, that, were torn from the roofs of buildings, 
were carried to the greatest distance in the direction of abmit 
three points west of north. The greatest destruction took place 
between half past 10 and half past 11, the wind varying from 
south-east to south, and being at the same time more and less 
Violent alternately. The rain ceased about the time the wind 
changed. A clear sky was visible in many places, during the 
greatest violence of the tempest, and clouds might be seen moving 
very rapidly in the direction of the wind. The air liad an unu- 
sual appearance. It was somewhat darkened by the excessive' 
agitation, and filled with the leaves of trees and other Ught sub* 
stances raised from the ground, which were whirled atKHit in 
eddies instead of being driven directly forward, as in a common 
storm. The river raged and foamed like the sea in a storm, and 
the spray was raised to the height of fifty or sixty feet, in the 
form of thin white clouds, which were drifted along in a kind of 
waves, like snow in a violent snow storm. Several persons in 
attempting to reach the river were driven back, when they came 
to an open place, by the force of the wind, and were obliged to 
make severd efforts, before they could overcome the viidenee of 
the pressure. It was impossible to stand still in a place exposed 
to tlie full force of the wind. Being abroad with several othen, 
we were obliged to shelter ourselves behind some obstacle,, or to 
keep moving about ; and as we passed from one place to anotlier, 
we inclined our bodies towards the wind, as if we were ascending 
a steep hill. It was with great difficulty, that we could hear eacli 
other speak at the distance of two or three yards. The wind 
pressed like a rapid current of water, and we moved about almost 
as aukwardly as those do, who attempt to wade in a strong tide. 
The barometer descended very fast all the morning, and at the 
time the wind was highest had fallen about half an inch. It be- 
gan to rise a^the wind abated, and recovered its former elevation 
by the time the air was restored to its usual tranquillity. 



'Jffrtcetfaneoiis and Literarj/ Intdllgmct. 



MISCELLANEOUS AND LITERART INTELLIGENCE. 



HARrARD CNITEBBITV, 

The late Hon. Isaac Rojrall, formerly of Medronl, anil at his 
de«eaMof Kensington, Great Britain, by his will dated 1TT3, 
lOd a codicil 1779, bequealheil to the IJniversily certain lands, 
wUb power to sell them and apply the income of (he capital ob- 
tained, tonarda endowing a Professorship of Law. The ii 
although not sufficient for the maintenance of a resident |iro- 
IcBsor, affording a compensation for a competent number of lec- 
turec in Jurisprudence, considered as a part of general education, 
the Corporation with the consent of the Overseers, have added 
Id the inatitution a Professor of Law. He is styled the Royall 
Profe«Bor of Law, bo long as the endowment by Mr. RoyHll shall 
eonstitute the largest part of the fund appropriated to this pro- 
feHOrahip, but may have another name if at any time hereafter 
hia bequest should be exceeded by the benefaction of some other- 
person. 

The lectures are to be given three or four limes a week, be- 
tveen the middle of March and May of each year, to the mem- 
ben of the senior class, to resident graduates, and to students of 
Irw, and others specially admitted. 

The Hon. Isauc Parker is appointed to this office, which he 
ku accepted with the view of commencing the lectures the nest 
li^miOD, it being a part of the year when the official duties of the 
O^ef justice ivill not interfere with those of [he Professor. 

We are happy that our educated young men are to be guided 
to a knowledge of the general principles of law, and their appH- 
(a^on to our forms of civil and ecclesiastical polity under the 
uqiiceB of a civilian, so entirely the object of publick conRdence. 

The Rev, John Snelling Popldn, D. D. has entered upon the 
office of College Professor of Greek, to give the whole instruc- 
tion to the classes in that department. He succeeds Mr. Asher 
Vareilate College Professor of Greek, who has resignedhis office. 

Six Bludents have been ailmitteil inio the sophomore class, and 
llxty four into that of the freshmeo, since commencement. 

John C. Warren, M, D. late ai^junct professor, was recently 
mblicltly inducted in the Uoiveraity Chapel, into the oflice of 
Jersey Professor of Anatomy and Surgery. 

Jacob Bigelow, M. D. was announced as Lecturer on Materia 
Uedica and Botany. And, 

* Walter Channing, M. D. as Leslurer on Midwifery. 

■51 ly. 



r 

158 Miscellaneous and Literary {Not. 

A complete new chemical apparatus, for the use of the Col- 
lege at Cambridge, procuretl in London by an agent, expressly 
sent for the purpose, has been shipped and will be used in the 
lectures next spring. 

A plan to raise a small fund for the commencement of an in- 
stitution for the promotion of the Fine Arts in this town, bis 
been for some time past in agitation, and some steps towards 
commencing a subscription, have been taken, which several gen- 
tlemen have promised to aid. Its further prosecution is post- 
poned for a short time. In the next number some observations 
on the subject will be given, and seme mention of the artists, now 
living here, as well as of those who are temporarily absent, and 
whose return would be certain, if they could hope for that en- 
couragement, which an institution of this kind would greatly 
contribute to afiford. 

The Agricultural Society of Connecticut have publisbed an 
Almanack for the use of farmers, which is said to be on ft veiy 
improved plan ; and as every farmer purchases an Almanack, 
much useful information is given to them in this way. We have 
not seen one of them, but, a work of this kind might certainly be 
made of increased utility, and might be issued under the directimi, 
or patronage, of the Agricultural Societies of other States. 

The Cattle show, and exhibition of domestick manufactures 
at Pittsfield, is stated to have been very fully attended this sea- 
son, and to have afforded the most satisfactory proofs of the me- 
lioration of our breeds of cattle and sheep; and the improvement 
of many branches of domestick manufactures. Exhibitions of 
this kind have greatly contributed to the present flourishing state 
of agriculture in England, and it would have the most beneficial 
effect to multiply them here. An annual show of this kind, in 
Boston or its neighbourhood, for the distriliution of premiums, 
would be attended with salutary effects, and is much wanted. 
Perhaps there might be added to it, in some village in the neigh- 
bourhood, a Fair for the sale of fat cattle, as such numerous droves 
are brought here annually to be slaughtered. 

The militia reviews of this autumn, have been extensive and 
satisfactory. The First Division, consisting of three brigades, 
amounting in all to between five and six thousand men, were' 
reviewed at Dedham. The Second Division was also reviewed 
by brigades, at Boxford and Danvers, each brigade containing 
upwards of two thousand. The equipment and discipline of the 
militia has greatly improved within a short period in this State. 
They are all Well armed, all the officers, commissioned and non- 



1815.J tnUlligmct. 137 

eommissioned, all the eavalry aod- artillery, and many of the in- 
fantiy companies are in nniform. There are upwards of one 
hundred brass field pieces, with aU the appendages complete, 
distributed among the different companies of artillery ; and a 
greater degree of emulation exists in this important branch 
of service than formerly. 

Proposals are issued for publishing the biography of the late 
Rev. John Murray, in one volume. 

General Wilkinson intends to publish memoirs of his own 
time, io three volumes. 

A collection of books recently imported from Holland, will be 
sold at auction in Boston, on the 20th of December. Descrip- 
tive catalogues are ready to be issued. A more rare and valuable 
assortment of books was never before exposed for sale in the Uni- 
ted States, and there are among these several, which it may be 
safely affirmed cannot be found in any libraryin thecountry. There 
are some modern German and French authors, but the greater part 
are chosen editions of the ancient classicks, standard works in 
theology and criticism. Among them may be cited a splendid 
edition of Calvin in nine fblio volumes, bound in vellum, a copy of 
the Byzantine historians, the most valuable edition of Bayle, 4&c. 
^ Among the critick^, are the works of Buxtorf, Erasmus, Le 
Glerc, Lipsius, Hammond, Lightfoot, Salmasius, Schultens, Crel- 
Hqs, Scaliger, Socinus, Poole, Przipcanius, Father Simon, Dupin, 
Carpzovius, Vitringa and Vossius. An opportunity is offered to 
theologians, literary men, and college libraries, of obtaining in« 
valuable standard works, such as has never offered in this eoun- 
try, and but rarely in Europe. We shall not dwell on the value 
of these books, as those who are capable of appreciating them, 
will be able to judge of them by the catalogue which will be dis- 
tributed in season, in all our principal towns. 

BOOKS EECENTLY PUBLISHED IN ENGLAND. 

A volume of posthumous poetry of William Cowper, Esq. and 
a sketch of his life by the Rev. John Johnson.^ 

Travels through Poland, Austria, Bavaria, Saxony, and th« 
Tyrol, m 1807 and 1808, by Baron Uklanski. 

PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION. 

Fragments of several orations of Gicero, with a commentary 
•r Ascanius Yedianus, from original MSS. lately discovered in 
the Ambrosian library at Milan. To be published under the di- 
rection of Mr. J. G. Jackson. 

'*' Mess'rs Wells and Lilly have re-printed this volame. 
Vol- II. No. 4. 18 



fS8 Liferarji and MisuUaneotu IJi&r- 

The life and campaigns of Field Marshal Prince Blneher^. 
tranalRted frooi the German of General Gneisenaii, bjr J. £^ 
Manton. 

Memoirs oF John Duke of Marlborough, (wo- volnmea quarto, 
drawn from private corre8[M)ndence and family documents, pre- 
served at Blenheim, hy Mr. Archdeacon Coxe, 

The life of James the Second, King of England, collected out 
of memoirs written by himself, also his advice to bis son, and bis- 
laat will. By the Rev. J. S. Chtrke. 

Dr. Young is printing a work, entitled a practical and histori- 
chI treatise on consumptive diseases, exhibiting a concise account 
of the state of medical science in all ages* 

It is said to have been discovered in England, that larch trees 
are very noxious to many others, such as poplars, plane, and wil- 
lows, and that the decay of the orchards, the fruit not only being 
blighted : but the trees themselves being in a dying state, is owing 
to these trees* That the larch contains a hind of white powder 
on every twig, which is full of insects, and which being carried 
to the other trees occasions their destruction. In the county of 
Essex, they are considered by many persons, on account of these 
very insects, noxious to man. That many families wbo had 
suffered by having these trees grow near their dwellings, had ro- 
eovered when they had been cut down.. 

There has been lateljr published in England, a * Memoir on tht 
Ruins of Babylon. By Claudius James Rich, Esq. president for 
the Hon. East India Company, at the court of the Pasha of Bag^ 
dad, with three plates.' From some account of this work, and 
extracts from it in the Literary Panorama, for August Ittt, il 
must be a very interesting one, particularly as illustrating seve- 
ral texts of scripture, in relation to the mode of building, and tin 
destruction of that city.. 

In some account of the proceedings of the Royal Society in the 
Monthly Magazine for August, there is the following article. ' J. 
G.Children, Esq. submitted to the society, a description of his very 
large gal vanick battery, each plate of which consisted of 32 square 
feet, and rein ted the effects of a great number of experiments mads 
with it in producing intense heat, in melting metals, Szc, one expe- 
riment was on iron. He and Mr. Pepys took a piece of soft iroiif 
made a cavity in it to hold some diamond |K>wder, and then sub- 
mitted it to the action of the galvanick battery ; when the iron 
was instantly converted into blister steel, and the diamond en- 
tirely disappeared. This experiment the author concluded, was 
quite satisfactory to prove that the diamond contains nothing but 
pure carbon.^ 



IntcUigmce- 



[There have been sevenT inefanceE of s])rina:B of frcBh wHtet 
Ihat hav« ebbed and Howeit nith regularity; vuricius ciinjeelure* 
ive been nmcJe about the cnuse. II7 tbe Tollowing accuuiit tak- 

I from the Monthly MuE;aziiie for August, a very rem»rktiljle 
effect was discuvered on a «treiim of Tresh water, wbich is clearly 
produced by tbe ebbing anil lluwiug ol'lhe tide, tliuagb the moilc 
tf Its operation does not aeem perleclly nsccrtained.] 

'jOk an ebbing and Jlotving stream dhcovcreil hy boTiiig in tht 
harbour of BridlUigton ; by John Storer, M. D, 

The following account of certain pecoliarilieB atlendinga sjiring 
freah wafer, which was tapjied in lioring within the harbour ol' 
^lington qubty, Yorkshire, is given from repealed obgervalious 
Etde during a residence o( some weeks there, in the months of 
lly and August, 1814. Tbe hartwiur of Uridlington quay is dry 
km water, except fur a rivulet whieh traverses ila bed : ri 
gb WKter it has from fifteen to seventeen feel of water. Mr. 
tanie, civil eugiaeer, was consulted in the year 1811, reepecHng 
rtsin improve men I a projected in that harbonr. At his desire, 
th a view to ascertain the depth of a stralum of clay in the har~ 
or, the boring, which terminated in forming the well lo be de- 
rtned, wag begun under the direction of Mr. Milne, col leciw of 
eeustODisfor the port. The spot (iKed upon is opposite to the 

UDtttion, of a street leading lo tlie harbour, and has about six 

rf water at high water in ordiuflry tides. 
After the workmen had bored through twenty eight feet of very 
Olay, and afterwards through hfleeu feet of a cretaceous 
dfy gravel, of a very concrete texture, the augur was perceived 
strike Kgainsl the solid ruck ; but, as they were uot able la 
tiM any impression upon it, tbe work was given up for that 
le, without any ap[>earauce of water from the lirst. lu r.n hour 
two afterwards, Ihe bore was found lilled to Ihe lop with fresh 
ttcT, of the most limpid ap|iearance : it goon flowed over, und 
n even projected some inches above the summit of Ihe Imre, in 
itream equal to its calibre. When it was ascertained that the 
iter was of (he purest qunlity and taste, perfectly lit for washing, 

II every culinary [lurposes, the bore was properly secured by an 
n stock, ten feet long, and perforated with a Ihree-inch augur, 
Ivea to its full length; a copper lube well tinned on lioth sides, 
s circumference to admit of its being parsed through Ihe bore 
iiD elm stock, and Ihirty-lwo feet in length, was Hien forced to 
i bottom of the bore, sonslo rest on the rock. The upper part 
ii^[>roperly puddled round llie ulm slock, and Ihe well Ibtii 

ltn|tleled, (he following singular circumatHnces were observed, 
id have continued with greiit uniformily ever since. 



140 Literary and MisetUaneatu [fSov. 

As soon as the sarface of the sea vf&ier in the harfoonr, during 
the flowing tide, has arrived at a level of forty-nine or fifi^ inches 
lower than the top of the bore, the water begins to flow from it in 
a stream equal to its calibre, the impetus of wMch is increased as 
the tide advances, and may be observed to be propelled with 
moch force after the bore is overflowed by the tide. The dis- 
charge continues from four to five hours, i. e. till the tide in jpe- 
turuing falls to the same level where it l)egan to flow : at this 
point it ceases completely till the next flood shall have regained 
the same level, when the same phenomena recur, in the same sue* 
cession, and without any variation, but what arises from the dif- 
ferent degrees of elevation in the tides. The rule appears to be, 
that the column of spring water in the bore is always supported at 
a height of forty-nine or iifty inches alK)ve the level of the tide, at 
any given time. This at least was the result of every otMerva- 
tion 1 made during several successive weeks in the months of July 
and August last ; and, I am assured by Mr. Milne, on whose in- 
genuity and habit of accurate observation I can place the firmest 
reliance, that his habitual experience, for three years past, goes 
to convince him, that the variations from the rule stated above^ 
are very inconsiderable during the summer and autumnal months; 
but, that in winter, after any unusual fall of rain, he has known th^ 
column of fresh water raised eight feet above the level of the tidey 
and the period of its discharge proportionally prolonged. 

For the use of the town and shipping, a reservoir, of bridi 
work, capable of containing one thousand gallons, has been con- 
structed within two or three yards, and u|M)n a somewhat higher 
level than the summit of the bore, and is made to communicate 
with it by a tube of the same dicimeter, fitted with a valve to pre- 
vent any reflux into the well. Two waste pipes are placed with- 
in a foot of the top of the reservoir, for the regular discharge of 
the water, and it has also been made to communicate with a pump 
adjoining, by which the reservoir may be emptied ; and as the 
bore of the well is now closed and secured at the top, it is obvious 
that the commencement of the flow of water, from the pipes of 
the rt-servoir, will happen a few minutes sooner or later at each 
tide, according to the quantity of water it contained at the time. 
Such, however, is the known regularity of the discharge from the 
waste pipes, that at the expected time of the tide several of tht 
inhabitants are always on the spot with their vessels, and ars 
rarely obliged to wait for more than five minutes. 

Such is the state of facts, and it appears to open a subject of 
curious investigation to those whose habits and practical know- 
ledge qualify them for it. The appearances seem not to admit of 
any satisfactory explanation, without supposing some mode of 
subterranean communication, by which the water of the sea, and 
that of the spring in question, are brought into actual contact, 8Q 
as to exert a reciprocal action. This supposition receives con^ 



m5.| iiUelligmee. ^ 141 

siderable support from a circumBtance which I had no opportunity 
to observe, but which Mr. Miine has had frequent occasion to no« 
tice ; and which he describes by remarking, that after stormy 
weather, when there is a heavy sea on that coast, the water Is 
discharged even from the waste pipes of the reservoir, with an 
evident undulation : which, of course, would be more considerable 
from the original bore. 

Mr. Milne has framed an hypothesis to satisfy his own mind on 
this curious subject. He believes the stratum of clay found in 
the harbour, to extend over the whole bay in front of it, as far as 
the Smithwick Sand, which forms a bar across the opening of tbs 
bay, in a direction from Flamborough Head, towards the Spurn 
Point, and about four miles from t^e quay, in a south east direc- 
tion. The bank is supported by a reef of rocks ; and, though 
there are openings which are well known, and admit vessels of 
considerable burthen at all times of the tide, there is in general 
but a small draught of water on this bank when the tide is out. 
On the outward, or east side, towards the ocean, the rock is quite 
perpendicular, and a great depth of water is immediately behind 
it As the copious source of water which has been tapped in the 
harbour, lies at such a depth, and under a stratum of clay, there 
is no reason to think that it can be discharged any where in th« 
hay, till it arrives at the ledge of rock where the clay terminates. 
Here among the fissures of the rock it may find its exit : and this 
is more likely, as it is known that the bed of the sea, at the back 
of the Smithwich Sand, is at so much a lower level. 

Admitting this supposition to be correct, or nearly so, it seems 
to follow, that the issue of a body of fresh water through a fissure 
of the rock forming the bed of the sea, would meet with more or 
less resistance at different times of the tide ; because the two 
columns of fluid, in meeting, would act upon one another in the 
ratio of the altitude of each, taking into the account the difference 
of their specifick gravity ; and thus, if there is any approach tp 
an equilibrium, an operation would result analogous to the flux 
and reflux of the tide, near the mouth of rivers. 

This hypothesis is specious, and accounts for the flux and 
reflux of the water from the bore, as well as for the singu* 
lar undulation of the discharge in a boisterous state of the 
sea; but the greater relative altitude to which tlie column of 
spring water is elevated after much rain, and the consequent 
prolonged dischai^e of it, during each tide, seems to militate 
against its correctness ; since, in a case, where, by the supposi- 
tion, a balance is nearly established, an additional impetus com- 
mnnieated to the column of spring water, ought to produce the 
opposite effect, by enabling it to overcome the resistance of the 
same column of sea water during a longer period of each tide, than 
snder the usual eircumstances. 



14S ObOmrg. (Niy?* 

It is not improbabto, that thkwhole wdtj^ffi m^l he elael- 
^ated, by a more perfect acqaaintaace witii the pecnHaritlcB of 
the springi on this part of the coast, prorlncially termed gifma. 
The water in this district of the East Riding of Yoiluhira, pos- 
sesses that limpidness which is usual in cretaceous simIs ; hot, for 
many miles of the Wolds behind Bridlington, very lUtle water k 
to be seen. There are few rivulets, and these are veiy low in 
the summer, and most of them quite dry in autumn. The ac- 
count to be collected from the inhabitants u, that, in two or three 
weeks after the commencement of frost, the springs begin to mo 
copiously ; and in many the water is projected wiUi such impetu- 
osity as to resemble ft jet d^eau ; it is then said, in the langoageof 
the country, that ^ the gi{)6ies are up,' and the rivulets oveiflow. 



OBITUARY. 



DEATHS AT HOME. 

In NenhHampshirt, General George Reed, aged 88. Aa oficer of 
the Revolution, and a citizen venerable for his age and his virtoes. 

In MassachuseUs. The Hev. John Murray, aged 75. Senior l^sstor 
of the First Universal Society in Boston. His friends have issnedmo- 
M)sal8 for publishing a biography of his life. In Tavntonf Dr. Pmfip 
Padelford, aged e2. A respectable physician. In Prineeiomnt Dr. 
Isaac Warren, Jr. aged 28. Jt Ballonell, Hon. Nathaniel Dmwifr, 
aged 60. In Boston, Dr. Anson Smith, of Upper Canada. In Pori- 
iSfid, Lieut. Kirvine Waters, of the C. S. Navy, from a wound received 
in the engagement between the £nterprize and Boier. In Broo^UU, 
Mrs. Rice, aged 86, a lineal descendant in the fifth generation from 
Peregrine White, the first child born in Plymouth Colony. In iVeio- 
buryport. Dr. Micajah SSawyer, aged 77, a physician of eminence, and 
a citizen of great respectability. In Stow, Capt. J. Whitman, killed 
by a stage passing over him, and, the same day, Charles Hale, one cf 
his neighbours, by a log passing over his body. In Colerain^ Mr. T. 
Bell, killed in a sham action at a military review. In Salem, Hoo. 
Wilhara Orne, President of the Essex Bank, an eminent merchant 
and very respectable citizen. H. D. Pickinan, aged 19, a gradaate 
of Harvard University, whose character had inspired sanguine hopes 
in his friends for bis future distinction, jit Roxhury, suddenly, while 
on a visit to a patient. Dr. Thomas Williams, aged 79. 

In New York, Richard Alsop, Esq. of Middletown, Connecticnt, *ged 
5^. A man distinguished for his literary taste and attainmenti ; and 
greatly beloved for his integrity, his benevolence, and his amiable man* 
ners. He was the author of many fugitive pieces of poetry, and pub- 
lished several translations of French and Italian works. He left several 
works in MS. and as some of them are said to be complete, it may be 
hoped that they will be printed In Albany Cmnty, Gen. Paul Todd, 
aged 57, expired suddenly, while apparently in perfect health and 
f pirits. Rt. Rev. Samuel Provost, D. D. aged 73, Bishop of the Pio- 
testant Episcopal Church of New York* 



UU.I ObUmry. 143 

h PmMfhiUda. Hon. John Whitebill, apd 94. 

h Maryuni. Lieut. Com. Jolm M. Gardiner, of the U. S. Nary. 
h Baliimore^ the Rev. Dr. Obrien. 

h Firginia. Samuel Shepherd, Esq. aged M, Auditor of that stat^.. 
i natiye-of Boston. In Powhatan County, Col. Henry Skipwith, a 
r»?aiatfonary officer. 

hNortkCaroHna, Gen. Joha Steele, formerly a member of Cob* 
nen, and for many y€Ujn Comptroller of the Treasury of the United 
States. 

In Georgi: Col. Richard Sparks, late of 2d Reg. of Infantry. Jt 
Port DetatVT^ the Hon. Mr. SeTier, one of the commissioners appointed 
to run the boundary line in the territories of the Creeks. 

In Keniucky. Captain John Johnson, a respectable citizen, of woun4» 
received in a quarrel on an election day. 

In Nem Orkam. Ma> D. O. Dunham, aged 24. 

BUmois T^nritory, Hon. Stanley Griswold, one of the Judges, for* 
nerly of Connecticut. 

DEATHS BT VIOLENCE. 

In Massachusetts. Jonathan Jewett, a black man, has been con- 
demned to be executed for the murder of his father-in-law. 

In RhodC'Island, Two men hare been c(>9demiied to be hung for 
barelary. . ' /. 

in Cannetticui. Peter Lung, has been ecHidemned to be hung for the 
■order of his wife. Joseph Pnrdy, after being separated from his wife^ 
returned, as supposed, with an intention to murder her, but she waa 
fiurtunately from home. He fired her house and bam, and died next 
momios, having previously taken poison. 

In Pfen York. Mr. John Wood, killed in the street by Patrick Hart» 
a wood-fiawyer, with a stick of wood. Wm. Wilson, shoemaker, suicide, 
by (diooting himself with a gun. Barent Becker, hung in Montgom- 
ery C^oonty, {or the murder of his wife. He had been confined a year 
previous to his trial. In the town of Victor, a young woman of 20 mur* 
dered a child of 5 years of age by cutting its throat with a razor. A 
Mrs. Borke having died in the New York Hospital, in consequence of 
a beating from her husband, the coroner*s verdict was wilful murder. 

In Philadelphia^ G. Oliver, killed in a fracas in a sailors* boarding 
house. 

hi North^arolina, A runaway slavci, whipped to death by John R. 
Cooke and one or two others. The details of this business cannot be 
read without shuddering with horrour. Cooke has been condemned ta 
be bung, one of his accomplices has escaped. A man named Nyler has 
been hung for forgery, and John Saunders for the murder of his brother* 

j^ South-^rolina. In Pendleton District, Sampson Tippins, mur- 
dered by Thomas George, the criminal made his escape, a reward has 
been offered for him. 

In Georgia. Royal Elms has been condemned to be hung for passing 
eouoterfeit bank notes. 

DEATHS ABROAD. 

In England. Lady Harriot Ackland, aged 66. She was celebrated 
"fiir ber deYOtion to her husband* who was wounded and taken prisonec 



144 Obiiuary. [-Not 

in Gen. Bar)^jiie*i amj. The Dnke of 8t Albans, hereditarj gnuM 
Falcooer of Knglaod. One of the priTilej^es attached to this place ira 
the right of dri?inf his carriage in the ride in Hyde Park, appropriatei 
toeqaestriani, and which was permitted to no one else but tlie l^oya 
Family. John Fardley Wilmot, Esq. aged 67. Mr. Wilmot was i 
master in Chancery, and at the bead of a commission which labonrec 
fnany years for the settlement of the claims of the American loyalists 
to whom be rendered groat services. Col. Beaomont« drowned him- 
self in the Thames, verdict suicide*, and the body was boned in a crosi 
road. In London^ Count Merveldt, the Austrian Ambassadonr. The 
Earl of Chesterfield. Vice-Admiral Otway. At Binningkam, Dr. 
Joshua Toulmin, a distinguished preacher among the Unitarians, the 
successor of Dr. Priestley. 

In France, Marshal Brnne, assassinated. Gen. Ramel, mnrdered 
by the mob. in Paris, Madame de Labedoyere, soon after the execu- 
tion of her husband. In the SmUh qf France, at Nismes and its neigh- 
bourhood, a great many of the protestants have been massacred. 
Some accounts have stated that six hundred had been destroyed in the 
course of a few days. 

TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

We have been so seldom favoured with poetical offerings, that we 
reject any with some regret and hesitation. The verses of C. G. M. 
are equal to many pieces of Magazine poetry, but the thoughts are com- 
mon, and the versification careless. New ideas cannot always be ex- 
pected, but their place should be supplied by the grace and harmony ol 
diction. 

The Song on the return of Peace, ibr which we arc indebted to N. 
H. C. shall appear in the next number. The other Poem, which foe 
the sake of the author, it is to be hoped is a juvenile performance, wa 
should speak of very harshly, if it were not for the concluding lines, which 
Indicate something better than the rest ; but as we do not feel at liber- 
ty :o mutilate the poem, we shall enclose and leave it, for N. H. C. af 
be requested. 

We thank a person without signature, for his good intentions, who 
sent the account of a practice at Dunmorc Priory, in illustration of 
Nos. 607 and 603 of the Spectator ; yet, as far as novelty is concerned, 
he might as well have asked us to insert these numbers themselves. 

To the individual who transmitted a Review of a recent law book, 
published in New York,1t might be sufficient to say, that we hare never 
seen the book, and we cannot take the opinions of anonymous corres* 
pendents. In the miscellany, we do not exact a knowledge of tlie 
writers, if they pqefer being incognito ; but in the department of the 
Kcvicw, though we shall be highly gratified at receiving assistance, 
from many individuals, of whom we have no opportunity of asking it. or 
to whom wo arc personally unknown, yet for obvious reasons, their ft- 
voui^ must be accompanied with the additional one of informing us io 
whom wo arc indebted. 

Professor Cleveland's absence from home during the month of Sep- 
tember, has prevented our having a journal of the weather for fbat 
month from him ; and we regret that we have not received any from the 
gentleman at Albany, to wlram we have been hitherto indebted. 



NORTH-AMERICAN REVIEW 



AND 



MISCELLANEOUS JOURNAL. 



No. V. 



JANUARY, 1816. 



The Planters Plea, or grounds' of plantations examined 
and ustml objections answered : together with a mani- 
festation of the causes mooving such as have lately vn* 
dertaken a plantation in New England. For the sa* 
tisfaction of those that question the lawfulnesse of the 
action. 2 Thes. v. 2 J. Prove all things^ and holde 
fast that which is good. London^ printed by William 
JoneSy 1628. Ato pp. 84. 

Their Majesties Colony of Connecticut in New-England 
vindicated from the abuses of a pamphlet licensed and 
printed at New-York 1694, intituled Some seasonable 
considerations of the good people of Connecticut. By 
an answer thereunto* Boston, in New-England, printed 
by Bartholomew Oreen, Anno. Dom. 1694. 4to pp. 43. 

These two pamphlets are in the library of the Boston 
Atheneain : the last is an extremely ill written, passionate 
answer to the New- York pamphlet, which was composed 
to justify the usurpations of the Governour of New-York oii 
the people of Connecticut, in regard to the control of ih6 
militia and military services. Connecticut successfully 
resisted, and justice was on her side, but if she had pos- 
sessed no other advocate except the writer of this pamphlet^ 
her rights would have been trampled upon with impunity. 

Vol. II. No. 5. 19 



146 Books relaling to America. [January, 

The first pamphlet id tolerably well written, and it con- 
tains one valuable document for the historian, in the minute 
account which it gives, of the origin and failure of the com- 
pany, uhich in the first planting of Plymouth, undertook to 
derive profit from a fishing project ; that being the only in- 
stance where pecuniary motives operated on the first 
projectors of that colony, which owed its existence almost 
entirely to the unconquerable love of political and religious 
libertv. 

The author of the Planter's Plea, states the objections 
that were then made to planting colonies, and makes an 
answer to each in the manner of a dialogue. The second 
objection wilh his answer, will shew what were some of the 
opinions of that day, and the style in which the book is 
written. 

'Objection 2d. But the pretended end of winning the 
' heathen to the knowledge of God and embracing of the 
' faith of Christ, is a meere fantasie, and a worke not only of 
' uncertaine but unlikely successe, as appears by our fruit- 

* lesse endeavours that way, both in yirginia and New- 

* England^ where Nenj-Plimmouth men inhabiting now 
' these ten yeares, are not able to give any account of any 
' one man converted to Christianity. 

'Answer. And no marvell unlesse God should worke 
' by miracle ; neither can it be expected that worke should 
Make effect untill we may be more perfectly acquainted 
' with their language, and they with ours. Indeede it is 
Mrue, both the Natives and English understand so much 
' of one another's language, as may enable them to trade 
' with one another, and fit them for conference about things 
' that are subject to outward sense, and so they understand 
'our use in keeping the Sabbath day, observe our rever- 
'ence in the worship of God, are somewhat acquainted 
'with the morall precepts, know that adultery, murther, 

* theft and lying are forbidden, which nature teacheth, be- 

* cause these things are outward, and may be understood 
'almost by sense : But how shall a man expresse unto them 
'things meerely spiritual!, which have no affinity with sense, 

* unlesse wee were thoroughly acquainted with their language, 
' and they with ours? neither can we in theirs, or they in ours 
'utter any continued speech, because neither we nor thejr 

* understand the moods, tenses, cases, numbers^ preeposi- 



1816.] Books relating to America. . 147 

*tions, adverbes, &c. which make coherence in words and 
*expresse a perfect sense. Besides, it hath beene intinial- 
*e(l, that wee hardly have found a brutish people wonne 
'before (bey had been taught civility. So wee must endea- 
*vour and expect to worke that in them first, and Religion 

* afterwards. Amongst such as have been brought over 
*into England from Virginia there was one Nanawack, 

* a youth sent over by the Lo. de Laware^ when hee was 
*6overnour there, who coming over and living here a yeare 
*or two in houses where hee heard not much of religion, 
*but saw and heard many times examples of drinking, 
'swearing, and like evills, remained as hee was a meere 

* Pagan; but after removed into a Godly family, hee was 
'strangely altered, grew to understand the principles of 
'Religion, learned to reade, delighted in thd Scriptures, 
'Sermons, Prayers, and other Christian duties, wonderfully 
'bewailed the state of his countrymen, especially his 
' brethren ; and gave such testimonies of his love to the 
'truth, that hee was thought fit to be baptised; but being 
'prevented by death, left behind such testimonies of his 
' desire of God's favour, that it mooved such Godly chris- 

* tians as knew him, to conceive well of his condition ; nei- 
' ther is there any cause to doubt but time may bring on in 

* others, as well as it did in him, that which wee expect 
' upon a sodaine in vaine. 

•Replt. But some conceive the inhabitants of New- 

* England to be ChanCs posterity, and consequently shut 
'out from grace by Noah's curse, till the conversion of the 
'Jewes be past at least. 

* AxswER. How do they appeare to be Cham's poster- 
' ity ? whose sonnes by the agreement of writers, tooke up 
'their dwellings together, in Canaan, Palestina, and the 
'parts adjoyning in Arabia, Egypt, Mauritania, liybia 
'and other bordering parts of Africke, and consequently 
'for any footsteps of their descents appearing unto us, might 
*bee as farre from peopling the West-Indies as any other 

* part of the posteritie of Noah's sonnes. Neither doe mens 
' Conjectures agree, (for we have no certainties to build on) 

* Hrhence these countries of the parts of America towards 

* -New-England might most probably be peopled. But admit 

* the inhabitants to be Cham's posteritie, doth not the pro- 

Shet Esay foretell the conversion of Cham's posteritie in 
"SgypU performed in the primitive times, all histories wit- 



148 Books relating to Avieriem* [January^ 

' nessing that the Egyptians had amongst them a Church 

* of eminent note, governed by divers Bishops under the Pa- 
' triarch of Alexandria ? and who knowes not the nume- 

* rous Churches of Africkty wherein were above ICO Bishops 
' in iSf. AustiiCs time, governing sundry nations, all of them 
^of Cliam^s posteritie? But what testimonie of scripture, 
Mays such a fearfull curse upon all Champs posteritie? 

* Noah*8 curse reacheth but to one branch, to Canaany and 
^ as interpreters conceive, with especiall relation to the ei- 
^ tirpation of that part of his issue, which inhabited JudeOf 
^ by the children of Israel. It is too much boldnesse then 
^ to curse where God hath not cursed, and shut out thc»e 
^frorn the meanes of grace, whom God hath not excluded.' 



Voyages du Baron de la Hontan dans VAmerique Sep- 
tentrionale^ qui contiennent tine relation des differens 
petiphs qui y habitent : la nature de leur gouvememeat : 
leur commerce^ letirs contumeSy leur religion : et leWy 
maniere de faire la guerre : Vinteret des Francois d 
des Anglois dans le commerce quHls font avec ces Mh 
tions; V advantage que VAnglelerre petU retirer ites 
paisy etant en guerre avec la France. Le tout enridm 
de Cartes el des figures. Seconde edition, revuey corrigi 
et augments A la Haye ches. C. Delo. 1706. 2 vols* 
l2mo. 

The author of these travels, the Baron de la Hontan, 
was in the military service of France. The first of his 
letters is dated at Quebeck, November 8th, 1683, and the 
last in Portugal in January, 1694, for having quarrelled 
with a superiour officer he was afraid to return to France. 
During this period he was in every part of the French 
northern colonies. The preface prefixed to this second 
edition by the Dutch editor, would lead a reader to place 
very little reliance on the work, as he avows having taken 
many liberties, to render the letters more pleasing. The 
accounts however bear every mark of authenticity, and are 
quite confirmed by co temporary, as well as subsequent 
writers on the same country. 

The Baron seems to have been an ardent and enterpris- 
ing character, with more wit than discretion. He was often 
placed in remote posts, associated much with the aavagesf 




Books relating lo America. 

joined tbem in their hunting parties, and nas pleased wilb 
Etucb of their hitbita and cbai'acier. Me undei'took an ex- 

?idilioa of discoverj, and peuetraled high up the .Missouri. 
iits was a great eSbrl, when il is considered, that he fo<^ 
liH departure from civilization at Montreal. He coiifiraas 
■ flie Statement made by Colden, that the Govcinour of Can- 
Klda, M. de Fronfeiiac, tortured in the most lioirible manner, 
Kliro prisonei'B of the Five Nations, which be justified on tbe 
"Bore of policy ! He gives a paxlicular account of (be re- 
Mrlcable interview between the Uovernour of Canada, M. 
te la Barre, and the ambassadors of the Five Nations ; and 
pncorda the speech of Garangula in nearly the same terms 
' n Colden. In Ihe bist vulume, p. 141, be gives an aiiec- 
dole bf one of his countrymen as follows. He is speaking 
of a parly of Ilnrons under his command, who made foiir- 
leen prisoners in an encounter with a parly of Ihe Five 
Nations. To Iranslale his words. 'They divided twelve 
'of them among (bemselves, they gave away the two others, 
'uae of Ihem lo M. de J ucheran commanding ibe Fori, and 
'the other lo Ihe Otiawas. Wbal would enable you to 
'guess. Sir, wliich of these slaves had the mosi fortunate 
'tot ; you would bet a hundred to one, that it was him who 
'WM given lo M. de Jucherau. In fact reason seems to 
'dictate, that a French officer aod a christian, should have 
'more humanity than savages. You deceive yourself 
'greatly, notwithstanding ; M. de Jucherau bad no sooner 
'received his Iroquois, than he engaged in the pleasing 
'frolick of having him shot; white Ihe Otiawas preserved 
'the life of Iheir victim.' 
I In his I6th leller, after giving an account of his journey 
■*tOtbe Missouri, he details a plan lo form a suitable party 
^Bi)t a journey of discovery into tbe inleriour of the conti- 
^PlM&t. He makes tbe number far too large, but there are 
^ many good rules given, and such as shew an esperienced 
. niiin. There is one quite characteristick ; the practice 
r "lay have existed, but the parlicular directions have been 
seldom pvbliehed. ' Another measure necessary to a com- 
I'mandant is to have a skillful spy, and to- pay him well; by 
Xlhis means, as he will know every thing that takes place, 
rie can regulate his conduct clearly and upon certain 
J*|roundB, to obviate any evil or to cut it off. The princi- 
llpal point is to i\elect the lirsl mover and author of a cabal ; 
^^UCn a discovery demands great cunning and secrecy ; but 
^' l^™^aT^^AMOTeM^examing^ftinCT^(ha^o 



liO Books relating to Anuriea. [Jauutryy 

< doubt remains respecting the guiltj person, it is absolutely 

* necessary to get rid of him ; but as it would be attended 

* with too much danger to take away his life, in sight of his 
' partizaiis : he should be dispatched to the other world by 

* a subterranean rout, so that he may suddenly disappear, 

* without any of his fellows knowing what has become of him.* 

The second volume contains a general account of the 
French possessions in Canada. An account of the animals, 
trees, &c« which is rather meagre ; and an account of the 
religion, customs, character, armorial bearings, hieroglyph- 
icks, &c. of the natives, to which is added a short dictionary 
of the Algonquin dialect. — But the most remarkable part of 
this volume, is a supposed conversation between La Hontan 
and Adario, the celebrated chief of the Deomondadies, a 
tribe of the Hurons. It is divided into three dialogues, 
upon religionf lawSy and self-interest. These are in fact a 
satire in which the civilized man contends with the savage, 
but only to give him the advantage. These dialogues have 
much of the wit and manner of Voltaire, or rather Voltaire 
has much of these, and it would be curious to know how 
far succeeding writers have borrowed from this book, com- 
paratively little known. This kind of satire has beea 
repealed since even to nauseousness, but this is somewhat 
remarkable, when it is recollected, that it was written before 
the close of the iTth century. 

The History of the Province of New-York, from tlie first, 
discovery to the year 1732. To which is annexed a 
description of the country, with a short account of tkt 
Inhabitants, their trade, religious and political state, and 
the constitution of the Courts of Justice in that Colonj* 

Lo ! smarming o^er the new discovered world 

CUw colonies extend : the calm retreat 

Qf undeserved distress. — 

— Bound by social freedom firm they rise ! 

Of Britain^s empire the svppmrt and strength. 

Nee minor est virtus, quam quaerere partatueri. 

By William Smith, A. M. London^ printed for Tho- 
mas Wilcox, 1757. 4to pp. 255. 

This work which the author in his preface modestly givtf 
to the world as a plain narrative, and not a regular historyy 



Books relating ta Amtrtca. 



151 

C6iilaiiia many valuable maleriala for ihe hislorian. He 
brings his reladon no riirlher ihan Ihe yeur 1732 ; and il ib 
lioce that period, lliat Ihe slale of New-York has acquired 
»duc i/nportance, by a developeinenl of Ihe power and 
tdvanlages whlcn ils local Giluation and extensive territory 
cmfer. lis early history is much less iiiteresliiig than Ihal of 
Hiiagachusetis or Virginia. The lameness and ignorance of 
ill original Dutch settlers were long predoaiinani, and being 
icunqiiered colony, those jealous feelings of liberty and early 
precautions for seir-government, which mark every step of 
llie New 'Kn gland colonists, were lillle fell or feebly atlempt- 
«il- In Ihe early stages of the colony no foundations were 
tiiil for the education of ihe inhabitants ; Ihe ignorance that 
va llie consequence, (he author frequently lanienls. Their 
Governours came over to Iheui with very arbitrary nolioiiB 
of poirer, and considered the administration of Ihe colony 
to be wholly at their control. They had a Council and 
an assembly ; the latter was so subservient that for a long 
lime, Ihey voleil supplies for a period of years, which were 
plwed at Ihe entire disposal of the Governonr, who render- 
ti IID account. Il was of conrse considered a place for a 
Oaveniour to make his forlune, and generally given to 
neeily favourites for this purpose. 

The quarrels which ensued from Lesler's assumption of 
tLe government, and his execution long agilated the coun- 
Iff. They were besides engaged in disputes wilb New- 
ieraey.Conneclicul, and IVIassachusetts.about limits. They 
were not free from religious quarrels, so common to those 
linic>i, and had a lonp; ronlesl lo escape fiom Ihe authority 
"t ilie Ecclesiastical power in the mother country. 

Mr. Smith seems lo consider il an advantage that they 
«eie loo ignorant to make laws, and establish precedents of 

^Ikir own, as was the case wilh their Eastern neighbours ; 
|il therefore retained the laws and legal usagei of Ejigland, 
E unmixed ihan any other colony. A Court of Chan- 
Jffy was early established, and the Governour who was 

, Jsnerally a military man, or sometimes a mere courtier, wai 
"i«ChancelIor. The juonstrous evils of such a jurisdiction, 
*<:re frequently an occasion of vexation, and fruitless oppo- 

' "ilion. 
b The connexion between New-York and Ihe Five Nations, 
kibe most interesting pari of Ihe early hislory of that 
r -MKMBt is {ivui fd it by Golden than bf 



I 



152 BookB rtlaiing io America. [Janaarjy 

9inith. On the subject of Indian trade and alliance, and 
the extension of colonial limits, it is impossible not to remark 
the sjstemai ick design, the farsighted views, and indefiatigable 
exertions of tiie French government in all their undertak- 
ings. While the history of the English colonies down to 
the jear 1760, discovers throughout, that the goyemment 
ul home were without any definite views respecting them, 
any comprehensive system for their administration, or any 
wise combination for futurity. To subject those, whose 
unconquerable spirit had induced them to fly from tyranny 
at home, to a still meaner subservience in their newly ac- 
quhred country ; to devise something for the sordid wants 
of craving followers, seemed to be the whole object of the 
desultory policy of the ministry. The French, under every 
disadvantage, except that they could more easily assimilate 
with the habits of the savages, had with a handful of men 
drawn a magick circle round all the English colonies, who 
were obliged io use the most incessant efforts to awakra 
the government in England to a sense of their situatioD ; 
and till the famous expedition which terminated in the con- 
quest of Canada, in which too, they bore a very important 
part, they had to contend almost unassisted against the skiD 
and ambition of the French. Twice they were placed is 
the most imminent danger of losing their Indian allies, and 
seeing them go over to the French, which might perhapB 
have changed the whole fate of North- America. One of 
these occasions was occasioned by the stupid bigotry of 
James ; the other was owing to the paltry views and gross 
ignorance of a few merchants in New- York and London* 
In the excellent report that was drawn up by Goveniour 
Barnet's Council, to submit to the Lords of trade and plan- 
tations in opposition to these interested views, the case of 
the Dutch trader is introduced with considerable effecti 
' The Count d'Estrade in his letters in 1638 says, that wfaea 
' the Dutch were besieging Antwerp, one Belland, who bad 

* loaded four tly-boats with arms and powder for Antwerp, 

* being taken up by the Prince of Orange's order, and ex- 
'amined at Amsterdam, said boldly, that the burghers of 
'Amsterdam had a right to trade every where ; that he 

* could name a hundred who were factors for the merchants 
*at Antwerp, and that he was one. That trade cannot be io- 
^ terrupted, and that for his part, he was very free to owh 
' that if to get any thing by trade, it were necessary topas^ 

* through Hell, he would venture to burn his sails.* p* l^' 




Books relating to America. 



Hariog cited in a former article, an indignant reflection 
from Major Roi^era against the people of R hade-Island, 
for trading with the French in time of irar, it will be curi- 
IH13 to see how (lie same thing ia viewed (jj Mr. Smith. 
After sajing that, 'the trade of this Province was nerer 
'80 flourisliini;,' &c, he goes on, ' Provisions, which are 
'our staple bore a high price in the West-Indies. The 
'French distressed through the want of them, gladly re- 
'ceived our Bags of truce, though they had somelimes, but 
'one or two prisoners on board, because they were alwaya 
'loaded with flour, beef, pork, and such-iike commodities. 
'The danger their own vessels were exposed to, induced 
'them to sell their sugars to ua st a very low rate.' p. 217. 

There is an inadvertence in speaking of the sentence of 
one Manning for treason ; he had given up a fort to the 
Dutch. 'The scandalous charge which Manning on his 
'trial confessed to be true, is less surprising than the lenity 
'of the sentence pronounced against him. It was this, that 
'though he deserved death, yet because he had since the 
' surrender been in England, and seen the King and the Duke, 
'it was adjudged that his sword should be broke over his 
'head in public, before the City-Hall, and himself rendered 
'incapal)le of wearing a sword, and of serving his Majesty 
'fur the future in any public trust in the government.' 
Burely that sentence, which would render life insupportable, 
is less lenient, than taking it away. 

The writer assigns a good reason for leaving his history 
at the period of 1 7^2. Because in the pnblick controversies 
that afterward took place, a near relation of his was greatly 
concerned. But in amplifying his remarks, though the 
principle with proper modificaliona may be just, he con- 
cludes the chapter rather awkwardly — 'Besides, a writer 
'who exposes the conduct of the living, will inevitably meet 
'with Ibeir fury and resentment. The prudent historian 
'of his own times, will always be a coward, and never give 
'fire till death protects him from the malice and stroke of 
'hla enemy.' p. 180. 



I 
I 




FOB THE NOnTe-AMEHICAIr JOURNAL. 

lir the last number some mention was made of a p 
consideration, for commencing an institution to 
No. 5. 20 



un- ^M 
encou- ^H 



154 Inatitutian for ike Fine Arts. [Jaamrj, 

rage and promote the Fine Arts in Boston. The time baa 
arrived in the opinion of manj, when this design may be 
carried into execution ; and it may be hoped that everj 
person of liberal views, who maj read this article, will find 
some reason to unite in thinking, that such an undertaking 
is not wholly premature. Sculpture, painting, engraving, 
and architecture, have so large a share in the comforts, the 
elegance, and the honours of society, that any disserta- 
tion on their importance would be superfluous. The ap- 
f>reciation which they have always met with among all civi- 
ized nations, shews their value both for utility and orna- 
ment. This value was never more striking than at the pre- 
sent moment, when we find all the nations of Europe en- 
gaged in contention about a few statues and paintings ; the 
loss or the acquisition of which, seem to excite more lively 
feelings of joy or grief, than the destruction of a fortress, or 
the conquest of a province. Without assenting to all the 
positions in the following extract from an English weekly 
journal, (the Examiner,) it may still be considered as con- 
taining some just reflections on the subject : 

^ The noise made about these works of Art, and justly 
made, is the signal for their more general appreciation by 
the world at large, — a trumpet sounded for the approach 
of nobler genius, and the diviner triumphs of peace. Think 
of Austrians, Prussians, Russians, men from Tartary and 
the frozen Pole, the descendants of the Huns and the Scy- 
thians, all walking among the beauties of Southern art, and 
prepared to carry back with them its gentler impressions. 
The very coarsest of these. people must be struck with tbe 
importance attached to such objects by their superiors .— 
those who have any susceptibility, and who come from 
places perhaps where they have been acquainted with no- 
thing but a few sir^ple utensils and barbarous habitations, 
must gaze with astonishment on figures that seem to meet 
their eyes with consciousness, and look more like tbe 
works of fairies, or the mock stillness of living beauty, than 
the productions of creatures like themselves' ; and all most 
behold in them \h^ last objects of civilized ambition, ob- 
jects^ which contending interests affect at last to consider 
as something sacred from ambition itself, — glories which 
the most intelligent nations conspire to reverence, and 
which their former possessors come to claim back again, as 
the last proof of their triumph or their national pride, and 



tnaHlutioH for the Fine AiU. 

f they were ao many living kinsmen to be redeemed 

11 caplivily. Nor will ihose who see deeper than the 

mraon tleclaimers againut what is ornamental, consider 

Htis as anovei-valiiiugof the works in question. We libel 

talure herself, when we declare against the ornaments of 

t ; and should first exiingnish the colours of the garden, 

1 the gold of the summer clouds. Ornimient is uiiiity, 

f it helpa to make us happy, for of what other use is use 

llaelf? He who can stand before a single fine statue, quiet 

uid admiring, has an enjoyment which thousands of things 

Ihat make grave, scienlilic faces, would in vain attempt 

'd procure for him ; he enjoys the simplicity of nature in 

Ihe shape of the utmost refinement of arl ; he feels pride 

without hardness, and rapture without violence; he lives 

[■ges Ihat are gone by ; he finds something beyond him- 

pelf, and out of (he narrow place and time in which he ex- 

ts; begets rid of the grossness uf mere bodily imprea- 

Bn, and doubles his sense of visible beauty by discover- 

g the intellectuat secret of grace ; in a word he is enabled 

1 look upon the Quest production of nature, the human 

'tape, as he does upon k Qower, or a tree, or a common 

nimal; unshackled and unspoiled ; and in proportion aa 

e are able to recur for such enjoyment to any of nature's 

*' productions, we free ourselves from grosaness and igno- 

* ranee in a thousand shapes, and treasure up means of con- 
'Bolation, which may last us when a thousand axioms of 

* philosophy only become matter of doubt and perplexity. 
' These are the feelings that present themselves uncon- 

* Bciously to the moat unthinking of Ihe admirers of such ob- 
'jects. The most ignorant of the Gothic visiters at the Lou- 
' vre partakes b{ them, when he feels his mind almost over- 
' powered, and bursts out into exclamations of delight, or 
' keeps an intense silence, or vents himself even in pleaaan- 

* tries, or kisses the Venus wilh his whiskered lips. That 
' trite quotation from Ovid has never, perhaps, after all, been 
'sufficiently appreciated; — "Nee shiU esse feros" — the 
' ciijlivalion of the liberal arts will not suffer men to relapse 
'into ferocity ; it restrains ihem wilh the force of know- 
' ledge, wilh the superiority of intellectual strength to phy- 
' bIcmI, with wisdom in the shape of beauty. 

. ' Such is the influence, more or less, which wc may ex- 

I * pect this sensation about the works of Art to create among 

*the Warriors in Fans; and so in the midst of them, to 



I 



15e InstUutUm for the Fim Art$. [Jnaunjp 

' qaole a verse more applicable than everi stands the Ood- 
* dess of Love and Beauty ;•— 

•« 80 stands the SUtne, which enchants the fsorliL*' * 

Without making a common place eulogium on these arts 
which embellish and animate every country where they are 
cultivated ; some of their advantages may be shewn inciden- 
tally, in a cursory consideration of the principal objections 
that have been sometimes made against their introduction 
here. These may be summarily stated under the foUow- 
ing heads : their tendency to corrupt society, our povert/i 
our want of taste, the absence of artists. 

It has been said, that the arts have a tendency to cormpt 
morals and manners. — The most ancient of all trite sayings^ 
is the one, that the abuse of a thing is no argument agunst 
the thing itself. To consider the arts as the cauae of pub-' 
lick profligacy is to mistake effect for a cause. When so- 
ciety is diseased the Arts will feel the general influence, and 
accompany the progress of degradation ; and if patrona catt 
for Leda's and Danae's, the artists partaking oc the com- 
mon degeneracy, may comply with their wishes to avoid 
starvation. Such a state of things however will be rather 
retarded, than accelerated, by a liberal cultivation of the 
arts. The reproach agaipst the arts is far less just in oar 
own days; if modern times are as corrupt as former ones, 
they are certainly more refined, and violations of decency in 
any respect much less frequent. Of the great living artists, 
very few of them have used their talents but for the no- 
blest purposes. With hardly an exception, the celebrated 
artists of the present day have. devoted all their exertioot 
to the treatment of the most elevated subjects of sacred and 
profane history. Besides, a powerful check might be pro* 
vided, in every institution, for the encouragement of the 
arts, by withdrawing all countenance from those, who may 
deviate into the selection of improper subjects. It ia quits 
annecessary to say more on this point. 

* There is not wealth enough in the country.^ In con- 
parison with others, or in reference to our own situatioai 
this is a great mistake. We are much wealthier than many 
countries, where the arts are cultivated to a great extent* 
The princely suma that have been sometimes paid for very 
celebrated worfcs^ have created a vague impresaion that 




1816.] InatiiuHon for the Fine Arts. 

eoormoua weallh must be required. Bui th«ge high prices 
are on\y paid od exlraordinary occaeione, and too oflen la- 
fished with ignorant ostentation, on ancient works of doubtful 
merit, while living genius has iaeen left to pine unheeded by 
the vain collector. Il is however becoming Ihe fashion in Eu- 
Tope to encourage conteraporarj taleni, the worth of old pic- 
tures which had no other merit than Ibal of being old, is now 
getting to its true level; and nianyenlighlened amateurs have 
introduced the fashion of cherishing living artists. We 
may escape from the folly and injustice of collecting the 
trasfa of antiquity, and commence our instilulions, at the fa- 
TOorabl« moment when fashion, as well as taste and feeling, 
have Baoctioned the praclice of supporting living merit. It 
wonld be sufBcient at the outset, if the sum, though it ia 
Bot large which is now expended, and mostly thrown away 
in works of art, should be devoted to purchase the produc- 
tions of our own artists. A very considerable sum is ex- 
pended in buying engravings that are worth nothing. In 
every bouse, in every parlour, there are pictures banging on 
U)e walls, Ihe glass and frames of which make them expen- 
•ive ornaments, and which constitute thetr whole value. 
Much the largest portion of the engi'avings i^ent from Eu- 
rope to this country, are utterly worthless. Engravings are 
divided into two classes, proofs and printHf the first four 
hundred copies are commonly considered as proofs and 
charged at double the price of the others. The prints of 
course are better i i proportion as they are earlier iniprea- 
sions. Proofs of plates published in France and Italy may 
be known by the description of the picture being wanting, 
Ike flpKce at bottom is left blank, and are called by the 
French avant ta leltre. In England proofs of modern en- 
gravings are distinguished by the letter being left unfinished, 
the outlines only being impressed. A large portiotrof the 
•ngravings that are sent to America are impressions that are 
taken from worn out plates, and if they can obtain for them 
the cost of Ihe paper, and a trifle for striking them off, they 
are satisfied; such engravings have no value. The 
quantity is increasing every year, and how desirable it is 
thai such importations should be discouraged, and the sums 
thus wasted, be directed to reward American artisls. The 
purchase of inFerLOLir engravings is a complete loss of the 
money paid for them. But in purchasing good pictures, » 



I 

I 



158 kutiiution for the Fine Arts. [Jaomrjr, 

real property it acquired, their Talue rather iocreaaea than 
iliminiahea with time. 

* We have no ta^fe for the Arts.' Suppose this was 
true, how is this taste to be acquired ? It cannot come by 
inspiration : It can only be nourished by the sight of objects 
which will call it into action. Those who say we cannot en- 
courage the artSy till we hare acquired a taste for them, re- 
mind one of the fond mother who was anxious her son 
should learn to swim, but afraid be should go into the water. 
There is a great deal of affectation and pedantry among con- 
noisseurs; but a power of perceiving harmony and beauty, 
in a greater or less degree, is given to all mankind, and 
though a just taste is seldom possessed intuitively, yet it 
is less difficult to be acquired, than is commonly imagined. 
It may require an artist, perhaps, to perceive all the difficul- 
ties that have been overcome, and all the skill which bai 
been exerted in producing a finished specimen of art, yet 
every one may be able to enjoy all its beauties. But 
stronger ground may be taken : there is a very considera- 
ble degree of taste existing in our society. There are 
many persons whom we should delight to name, who have 
cultivated drawing and painting with very considerable sue*- 
reas ; it would be one advantage attending the promotion of 
the arts here, that this most pleasing and interesting accom- 
plishment would become more general. The pleasure of 
musick may be more lively, but it is evanescent ; drawing is 
more quiet and more durable, it affords permanent memo- 
rials of our friends ; the sounds which enchant us are dissi- 
pated in air, but the painting may recall affection to memory, 
long after the hand that executed it has mouldered into dust. 

' We have no artists.' Of all the objections that have 
been suggested, this is perhaps the most erroneous. A slight 
mention of some of the artists now on the spot, besides those 
who have sought abroad the encouragement they could not 
find at home ; will shew that our capacity is much more ex- 
tensive, than even some of those who wish well to the arts 
may have imagined. 

This list will commence with Mr. Stuart, whose merit ii 
too well known to require any praise of ours. As an histo- 
rical portrait painter, he waa before his return to this coun- 
try, in the first rank of his profession in England, where 
that branch of the art was carried to the highest perfectioB, 
and where competition was of the most powerful kind. To 



Instittttion for ike Fine Arts. 

lis admirable pencil posleritj will be indebted for tlie por- 
rails of those great men, who luid the foundations of the 
realoess of our country. Perhaps this veteran professor 
Fas never more successful, than ia some of the portraits 
'hich he has painted the last j^ear ; may he long continue 
b multiply the fine productions of his pencil. 
• lu naming Colouel Henry Sargent next, we should per- 
laps cimsiJer him rather »b nn amateur than a professional 
rtiat, since he paints but a few pictnres. His last and 
jrttesl work, The Landing of Ike Forefalkers, having 
eeo exposed for the gratificBtion of the publick for several 
yonlbs, and being so fresh in its admiration, renders it unne- 
easary for us to say more. 
Mr. Morse has recently returned here from England. His 
icture of the dying Hercules, which was shewn for a short 
me to the publick, had made his merit known in advance. 
Pbis painting, and the model from which it was executed, 
inquired him great praise in England, and gave promise of 
lis future distinction. i>Tr. Morse has aimed at the highest 
branch of his art ; he has profiled by the advice and pro- 
bund science of Mr. Allston, and studied in England the 
mrks of the greatest masters of our own and former time^. 
?he scenery of Mount Oeta in his Hercules, would be auf- 
eient to aliow that he possesses a poetick imagination ; and 
Iflfrienda and the publick have a right to entertain the 
^heat expectations of this accomplished young painter. 
I Mr. Stuart Newton if a young artist who has hitherto 
irrncipally devoted himself to portrait painting, for which 
e appears to have a strong natural talent, which may one 
ay qualify him to replace his celebrated uncle, mentioned 
it the bead of this list. From a few sketches he has pro- 
•fuced, and from bis strong and quick perception of the va- 
■ riouB expressions of the human face, he would certainly 
incceed in other branches of the art ; in cabinet pictures of 
familiar scenes, perhaps of all others the most popular; 
itudy and perseverance will ensure him success. 

Mr. Penniman, from some sketches rather than (intshcd 
pictures we have seen from his hand, has shewn what he is 
I fspable of doing if there waa any encouragement; but 
h "hen this was wanting, he pursued more mechanical branch- 
H es of the art ; painting military standards, masonick emblems, 
B Ice. which he executes with great neatness, and accuracy, 
jL ud with lAleots CiipaJale of highot efforts. 



J 



160 InatiMion for ike Fim ArU. [Jannrjs 

Mr. Fisher is a young artist, who acquired hb knowledge 
of colouring and drawing under Mr. Penniman, and who 

Sursues the branch of cattle' and landscape painting. Hia 
elineations of the former have not only great, but surprising 
merit, when it is considered how little advantage he has had 
in seeing good pictures, and how little practice. Older ar- 
tists might envy the force, the facility, the truth with 
which he delineates animals. His landscapes have also 
much merit. We predict without hesitation, that with 
studying nature, which will mature his taste, and persever- 
ance in his present line, that he will attain the greatest em- 
inence in his profession. 

Mr. Tisdale, a miniature painter studied under Colonel 
Trumbull, and besides portraits, delineates small pictures 
of humorous and familiar character. From one or two spe- 
cimens of this kind, we should suppose he would be very 
successful in subjects which employed most of the painters 
of the Flemish school. 

Mr. Corny, an Italian, has resided here many yean, and 
is well known as painter of marine .subjects. His portraUi 
of ships are remarkable for the accuracy and freshness oC 
their delineation. In the Panoramick views of the actions 
at Plattsburg and on Lake Champlain, the first picture oC 
the scenes, representing the squadrons coming into actioi^ 
was net only distinguished for this talent of painting shipSf 
but for the beauty of the surrounding scenery and back 
ground, which made it as a whole a most beautiful picture* 
In his particular department, he can hardly be surpassed. 

Mr. Willard is a self-taught artist, who possesses aciqpli- 
Gity for sculpture of no ordinary kind. He has lately been 
employed in carving the ornaments of two or three ships : 
among them the Courier and the HindUf which have lately 
sailed from Boston. In viewing the freedom, the grace and 
harmonious design of these ornaments, it was impossible not 
to regret that his talents should not be exercised on more 
noble and durable materials. The gentlemen who pa* 
tronized him in this way, have however rendered him a se^ 
vice, as it developes his ability, and gives him practice, but 
it may be hoped that he will be hereafter occupied in higher 
branches of sculpture."^ Besides these works, fromlookiog 

* Some may object perhaps that carying in wood, is very different fimii 
sculpture in marble. A mere ordinary career might be nnsnccessfol ia 
marble, but real talent is wasted in working upon wood. The proosn ' 




Institution for the Fine Arts. 

Ksome architectural and other drawings, we have conceiv- 

d a higb opinion uf his natural lalenis for the arfii. Mr. 

^^itlard only wants thai practice, which the encoura|!;eraeiit 

1(1 employmenl of (he piiblick would give him, to bet^^oine & 

iillpfor of eminence. 

pjJ'We have seen some original paintings and some copies of 

tr. Jones, which gave very I'avourable indicatioas. Finding 

iit little encouragement, and no advantages for improving 

Jmself here, he went [ai^t year to Philadelphia, to study ihe 

4ftstSand painlings, in theinslituiionof that city. Benides 

■tteseartiita already named, Ihere is Mr. Qreenwood, and Mr. 

/utes, portrait painters, Mr. Uoyle,a minialure paiuler, and 

ierhapa others, besides engravers. The list given is a very 

■asty and no donbl imperfect one ; but il is certainly suffi- 

Caeottoshew that It is no! flie want of artists,* which should 

ta^vent our coin-nencin^ an inslitntion thai would aiford 

A^Ri the advantages of studying the best models; and Ihe 

•ublick an oppoiiunily of behoMing, of cheering, and re- 

iranling their labours. 

^ Artists shoidd also not forget, Ihat they have duties to per- 
U*!!!! and lhat this in Ihe end will serve their iuleresl, as the 
Tormance of duly always does. They should feel some- 
ling of a mt.vstonari/ spirit, Ibey should by their exertions, 
id multiplying their performances, endeavour lo excite the 
steof Ihe publiutc. They should be satisfied with oiode- 
ile prices at first ; recollecting, lhat as laste is multiplied Ihe 
Conrtpetifion of amalems will in fulnre raise them. The 
kigh prices somelimes given for pictures in Europe, has of- 
ten created delusion. Such prices, are Ihe prizes in a lol- 

afUie Rculptor In as foHowg : be first makes a drawing of the work be 
gbnt'einplates, he then models it In clay ; this mode:! tie traasfers ta 
the latlcr operation, though of .same nketj, is merelj a me- 
process. Mr. Willard observed to the writer, that he c:iuld ex- 
uib better in ma.rble. than in such a course material as wood ; 
I^Kt, said be, as a maa can write better on white paper than in brown. 
* We have not meatioaed Mr. AllKton. now in Englaud. If titers 
va> Mtji proiipect orthe publick being awakened lo a di'^position to cn- 
«Darage the artti. he would no doubt return to reside among us ; we 
buwhis gtroa; lose ofeountry, that he isonp of tho'ii'or whom i' miy 
te aaid, .^ti rccurf bitn nei que la patrU est eher ! and he would find uiaaj 
friends to cherish and adioire bim. His aecoraplished education, .lie 
proround knowledge he has acquired in studying for years in all the 
neat schools of art in F.iirope. would make his experience and science, 
HM>ngh a young artist bluseir, of the greatest importance lo a new in- 
stitution here. 

Vol. U. No. 5. 21 



162 iHMtHtOion for the Fine Arte. [Jaimarjr, 

tery abounding in blanks, and to obtain them, great good for- 
tune is offen as necessary, as great talents. 

An institution for the fine arts, would promote and im- 
prove the knowledge of architecture ; this would indeed 
De one of its main objects. Perhaps no country needs 
melioration in this branch more than the United States.— 
Private houses, churches, and other publick buildings are 
constantly erecting ; and how few of these eTer approach 
to perfeclion in either beauty or convenience. The town 
owes much to the skill and taste of Charles Bulfinch, Esq. 
who planned many of the publick and private buildings ; but 
who has too often had to complain that his plans were alter- 
ed and mutilated by the narrow means, or narrow views, of 
those who had the control. An opportunity would be of* 
feredby an institution of this kind to have an exposition of 
plans, of private houses in town and country, of churches, 
occ. A reward might be offered for the best, and persons 
going to build, would be glad to have a chance of seeing 
different plans, and pay the architect for those they might 
select. A school of architecture is one of which at this mo- 
ment we have the greatest need. It would be a disagreea- 
ble task to point out some of the blunders that have been 
committed in different private or publick buildings io oor 
towns ; or to shew how grossly all considerations of climate, 
of situation, and requisite accommodation of the tenant have 
b^en overlooked. In the country, how often do you see a 
square brick house three stories in height, as destitute of 
comfort as of elegance in its appearance, with four, tdl 
chimnies, one at each corner, looking as awkward as a mt- 
hogany table laid on its back with the legs in the air. A 
few miles from town on the edge of one of the turnpike ix>ad8, 
a man has built a brick house four stories high wiih a bau- 
ment story. It is not an uncommon idea with persons who 
are building bouses in the country to think a house three 
stories high looks dignified ; thus mistaking one of the 
greatest deformities in architecture, owing its origin .to th^ 
crowded population and dearness of land in cities, and one 
of the greatest inconveniences in domestick edifices, for 
beauty and advantage. Improvement in architecture, has 
been one of the greatest advantages attending such institu- 
tions in Europe. 

In estimating the importance of an institution for promot- 
ing the fine arts, other consequences than the pleasures de- 



Institution for the Fine Arts. 

red from contemplating the sublime and beautiful produc- 
na of pain ting and sctiiplnre, should be considered. Theli- 
tuence is widely disused, and ia felt in many of the pro- 
Bliotia of more humble industry. A variety of manufac- 
ea are greatly benefited by fhem, and their value in tliia 

pect is fully understood in England and France. Be- 
es engravings, and drawings of ualuial history, there are a 
riety of articles under the general name of toys, thai we 
V import from Europe, and the quantity of which ia of 
use incredsing every year, which we might make at 
me not only for our owti con sumption, liiil for the supply 
other Btales. The knowledge of drawing and colouring, 
t taste and skill lo invent and vary p:ilterna and designs, 
turalty emanatea from an establishment for the higher ciaa- 
: of the arts. To men incapable ot severe labour, to fe- 
les and children, the means of employment in a pleasing 
} honourable industry would be alforded ; and the re- 
ircea of the country increased by creating among our- 
[ves those objects for nhichwe are now tributary to fur- 
;n coimlries. Indeed the arts themselves may in some 
rpecls be regarded as a species of nianufaclurea, of man- 
iCtiires loo that wiil not introduce a coarse, wretched, pau- 
r population, but a class of men who will themselves utid 
the ornament, the refine^nent, and the dignity of uociely. 
On all thenoble and elevuled usea of the fine arts, we shall 
t here enlarge. Their tendency is lo purify, adorn, and 
rvate every country where they are cherished. They 
fe farniahed, in all ages and in all civilized countries, one 

the excitements, as well as the most durable memorials, 
raloiir, genius, and beneficence. We yet owe even Wash- 
;tDii a monument, and we must now depend on Foreign 
bis lo execute It. A school of the arts, in cultivating the 
ftnis that can preserve llie features and portray the ac- 
U of our great and good men, will honour the nation and 
impt ita citizens lo ijlnalrious deeds of heroism or bene v- 
isee. The sculptured tomb which protects the ashei, 
t simple engraving which on the walls of every parlour de- 
ealea the actions of patriotism or humanity, have been 
tod among all nulions to be one of the incentives, one of 
I sweetest rewards, lo genius and virtue. 
The plan suggested, among a few gentlemen who met to- 
[feer for this object, wa^ to hire some large publick room, 
procure from Paris casts of all Ilie busts and statues which 



IM Letter from Mr. Aiams [Janmiy 

were in the gallery of the Louvre;^ and to place them \m 
proper order in this room, wh^re the artists should have a 
free right to study and copy them. To devote a part of 
this room to an annual exhibition of the works of Americas 
artists^ where they might he exposed to the pubKr.k, and the. 
aame facilities for the sale of them, as in the exhibitions of 
Europe. That all the receipts from admission, as well at 
the interest of any surplus funds that might remain from th* 
original subscription, should be devoted every year to the 
purchase of the works sent by the different artists for exhi- 
bition, which should be added to the permanent coUectio» 
of the Museum. In this way a considerable sum might be 
expended in purchasing the works of our artists, besides 
what might be bought by individuals. Several gentlemen 
have already promised their subscription, and it may be 
hoped that the publick at large wUl approve of the design. 



FOR THE HORTH-AMERIGAir JOURHAL- 

Thelife of Dr. Richard Price, by William Morgan, f.r. t* 
has been published very recently in London.f As a piece 
of Biography it is not remarkably well written. It con- 
tains some extracts from> letters from Dr. Franklin, Dr. 
Rush, and Arthur Lee, and mentions that he had a con- 
stant correspondence with Mr. Jefferson, while the latter 
was ambassadour in France. A selection from the corres- 
pondence between Dr. Price, and so many eminent men ia 
oiSerent countries, would form an interesting volume Mr. 
Morgan alludes in a dissatisfied tone, to an answer Dr. 
Price received from President Adams, to a letter which he 

* A gentleman now in Paris, who was one of the promoters of tiHf 
plan, not only promised his sabscription, but that he would take charge 
of purchasing and shipping the objects at the least expense possiUa 
to th. 8 country. 

f Since writing these few lines, we have seen the 49th Number of tbi 
Edinburgh Review^ in which there is an article that does justice to thif 
meagre work of Mr. Morgan. The following remark is made relatiye ta 
this letter. * The letter of Mr. John Adams, in which, " he spoke with 

* contempt of the French Revolution at its commencement, and five- 

* told the destruction of a million of human beings as its probable con- 

* sequence,*' certainly deserved publication, much better than those 

* very fc^ li^h invectives aeainst Mr. Burke, in which Mr. Morgan de* 
^ scribe him as " possessed by some demon of the nether regions^" and 

* as a man ** whose passions had deranged his uiderstanduig»" * 



la Dt. Price, 

I wrillcD him, accompanying a copy of hia centiirj dia- 
Hirse comraemoraliijg Ihc English iiivolulioD, \a which he 
mdulged in sanguine expecluliona of Ihe French revolution 
then coaiiDencing. The book having been shewn to Mr. 
Adams, he consented that the leller should be copied, to 
prevent way misiuticeplion, and we are indebted to a friend 
for the honour of publishing this copy. Our readers, on 
observing (he dale particularly, will be more struck with 
its contents. The venerable writer was one of the very 
few per-vous, who, eilher in Burope or America, foresaw the 
consequences of the revolution in ils very outsel, of which 
this letter is a most remarkable proof. We are extremely 
pleased at being able to gratify our readers with such a 
Kument of this great Statesman. [Ed.] 



' Extract from Morgan's Life of Dr. Price, p. 157. 

* The hopes and expectalions of Ihe friends of freedom 
" Ihis lime, appear to have been raised lo an exlraordi- 
tary height, and particularly those of Dr. Price. Nay, so 
%til assured was he of the eslablishment of a free consti- 
|lioa in France, and of the subsequent overthrow of dee- 
9iUm Ihroughoul Europe as the consequence of it, that 
jf never failed lo express his gratitude lo Heaven for 
Bving extended his life lo the present happy period, in 
^ch " after sharing Ihe benetils of one revolution, he 
■d been spared lo be a witness lo two other revolulionBj 
■til glorious." But some of his correspondents were not 
jlite so sanguine in their expeclalions froin the taslof 
volutions; and among these the late American am- 
usador, Mr. John Adams. In a long letter which he 
■pte to Dr. Price at this lime, so far fiom congratulating 

a CD Ihe occasion, he expresses himself in terms of con- 

' tempt in regard lo the French revolution ; and after asking, 
'rather loo severely, what good was to be expected from a 
'nation of Atheists, he concludes with foretelling Ihe de- 
'ttniction of a million of human beings as the probable con- 
'sequence of it. These harsh censures and gloomy pre- 
'dictiona were particularly ungrateful to Dr. Price ; nor 
'can it be denied, that tliey must then have appeared as 
' Ihe eflfusions of a splenetic mind, rather than as the sober 
' reflections o£ an unbiassed understanding. From the nu- 



166 Letter from Mr. Adams [Jaavarj, 

* meroas letters which he was cootinuallj receiviogy from 

* some' of the most eolightened and respectable persons in 

* France, as well as from the general tenor of their proceed- 

* ings in the National Assembly, Dr. Price had everj rea- 
' son to entertain a very different opinion from that of Mr. 
' Adams.' 



Copy of a Utter from Mr. Adams to Dr. Price. 

MSW-TOftK, APRIL 19, 1790. 
MT DIAB rsllKD, 

Accept of my best thanks for your favour 
of Feb. 1st. and the excellent Discourse that came with it. 
I love the zeal and the spirit which dictated this Discourse, 
and admire the general sentiments of it. From the year 
1760 to this hour, the whole scope of my life has been t« 
support such principles and propagate such sentiments. 
No sacrifices of myself or my family, no dangers, no labonrs 
have been too much for me in this great cause. The Re- 
volution in France could not therefore be indifferent tomc« 
But I have learned by awful experience, to rejcuce with 
trembling. I know that Encyclopedists and EconomistB, 
Diderot and D' Alembert, Voltaire and Rousseau, have coo^ 
tributed to this great event more than Locke, Sidney, or 
Hoadley, and perhaps more than the American Revolution* 
And I own to you I know not what to make of a Republic, 
of thirty millions of Atheists.^ 

The Constitution is but an experiment, and must and 
will be altered. I know it to be impossible that France 
should be long governed by it. If the Sovereignty is \o 
reside in one ; the King, the Princes of the blood, and prin- 
cipal Quality, will govern it at their pleasure, as long ts 
they can agree. When they differ, they will go to war, 
and act over again all the Tragedies of the Yalois, Bour- 
bons, Lorrains, Guises and Colign's two hundred years ago. 

The Greeks sung the praises of Harmodius and Aristo- 
giton for restoring equal laws. — Too many Frenchmen, after 
the example of two many Americans, pant for equality of 
Persons and Property. The impracticability of this, God 
Almighty has decreed, and the advocates for liberty who 
attempt it will surely suffer for it. 

I thank you, Sir, for your kind compliment. — As it to* 
been the great aim of my life to be useful ; if I had any rea- 



ISie.j to Dr. Price. 167 

son ta think I was so, as you seem to suppose, it would 
make me happj. ' For eminence' I care nothing. — For 
Ibough I pretend not to be exempt from ambition, or any 
other fauniBn passion, I have been convinced from my in- 
fancy, and have been confirmed every year and day of my 
fife, that the mechanic and peasant are happier than any 
nobleman or oiagi^tlrate or king ; and that the higher a man 
rises, if he baa any sense of duty, the more anxious he 
oust be. 

Onr new Government is a new attempt to divide a Sove- 
reignty. A fresh essay at Iwperium in hnprrio. It can- 
not (herefore be expected lo be very stable or very firm. 
It will prevent us for a time from drawing our swords upon 
each other; and when it will do that no longer, we must 
call a Convention to reforn) it. 

The difficulty of bringing millions to agree in any mea- 
sures, to act by auy rule, can never be conceived by him 
who has not tried it. It is incredible how small is the num- 
ber to any nation of those, who comprehend any system of 
Constitution, or Administration ; and those few it is wholly 
impossible lo imite, 

• I am a sincere inquirer after truth. — But I find very few 
who discover the same truths. The King of Prussia has 

iod one, which has also fallen in my way ; ' That h is the 

teculjar quality of ihe human understanding, that exam- 
jle should correct no man; the blunders of the Fathers 
.'«Fe lost to their Children, and every generation must com- 
mit its own.' 

[ have never sacrificed my judgment lo Kings, Ministers, 
nor People, and I never will. When either shall see ae i 
do, I shall rejoice in their protection, aid, and honour; but 
I see no prospect that either will ever think as 1 do, and 
therefore I shall never be a favourite with either. I do not 
desire to be. 

But I sincerely wish and devoutly pray, that a hundred 
years of civil wars, may not be the portion of all Europe, 

I (or the want of a little attention to the true cienients of the 
■cience of government. 
With sentiments, moral lenliments, which are and must 
1m eternal, I am your friend, 
JOHN ADAM 
Dr. pRiftB, Hackiieif. 



HIS MisceUaiMaus Extracts [JaDoary, 



FOR THE NORTH-AMERIGAR JOURITAL. 

Miscellaneous Extracts from Foreign Journals. 

In the Eclectick Review for Sepfembery there is an arti- 
cle on * a sermon preached at Leeds, on occasion of the ex- 

* ecution of Mr. Joseph Blackburn, attorney at law, for for* 
' gerj, by Richard Winter Hamilton, minister of Albion 

* Chapel, 4th. edition.' The Reviewers are very indignant 
at this sermon, for which they gave various substantial rea- 
sons. The preacher is Very much admired at Leeds, and 
his s«>trmon had gone through four editions. TThe criticks 
make only one extract, which they say is a fair specimen of 
the whole, in which case this must be a very remarkable dis- 
course. They introduce their quotation by saying : — * to il- 

* Instrate the progressive nature of sin, Mr- Hamilton says/ 
* If the character throws itself into any. particular attitude, 

it is diflicult to recover the natural posture ; and, though th^ 
singularity might arise from merely an accidental cause, yet 
it may require some lengthened process to rectify.— 
Through the influence of hMU feeling may strain Ufrom 
its native scopt^ and • the powers of the constituiion be 
wrenched from their original sockets^ the nuackinery of 
the mindf as it is first thrown into action^ works through a 
roughness of wheel and st^ibhomness of springs with jof' 
ring and confounding attrition ; but when the action is 
^onfinuedy the philosophic chimera of perpetual motion is 
realised and confirmed* And when habits are formed up- 
on evil passions and principles, it is impossible to calculate 
on their mischievous extent. We have then to grapple, 
not merely with the strength of our depravity, but with ihe 
disadvantages of a prepared barrier and circumvallation^ 
We have then to resist, not an enemy conscious of its mjas- 
tice, but a commonwealth that relies upon precedent, and is 
regulated by law. Ah ! the will is always volatile to m, 
why should we then fan its heats and accelerate its impulse* 
The mind always gravitates to evil, why then should we 
multiply its tendency by additional weight and bias ? Whs 
would add momentum to an avalanche from the Andes^ of 
wing with more cruel speed the bolt that hisses from ths 
secret place of thunder .^' 

The publick expenditure of Great Britain for the year 
ending January 5, 1815, was, by the returns laid before Par* 



r ISlfl.] from Foreign fournnla. 

Ikment, 117,587,984/. 10. 5. Cakulafmg this sum at five 
shillings for a dollar, it will make the annual expenditure in 
Dollars amount to 470,331,938. 

There are in England ninetj-four publiclc librariea, eight 
in Scolland, and ten in Ireland, makiog one hundred and 
twelve. These include Ihose of the Colleges, Cathedrals, 
and publick offices. 

THG KING OF NAPLES. 

Ferdinand 4th i^ in his fifty-sixth year ; in his person he 
is tall and straight, rather thin than corpulent, his face is ve- 
ry long, his hair and eyebrows white, and his countenance 
on the whole far from comely, but lighted up by an expres- 
sion of good nature and benignity^ that pleases more and lasts 
longer than symmetry of features. His manners are easy, his 
coDversation affable, and his nhote deportment (princes 
will pardon me if 1 presume to mention it as a compliment,) 
lliatof a thorough gentleman. With regard to mental en- 
dovotents, nature seems to have placed him on a level with 
the great majority of mankind, that is, in a state of mediocrity, 
and without either defect or excellency ; a state the best 
adapted to sovereign power, because the least likely to 
abuse it> If one degree below it, a monarch becomes the 
tool of every designing knave near his person, whether 
valet or minister ; if only one degree above it, he becomes 
restless and unintenlioni<IIy mischievous, like khe Emperour 
Joseph ; and if cursed with genius, he turns out bke Fred- 
erick, a conqucrour and a despot. But the good sense 
which Ferdinand derived from nature required the advan- 
tages of cultivation to develope and direct it ; and of these 
advantages he was unfortunately deprived, in part perhaps 
bj the early absence of his father, and in part by the negli- 
I|ence or design, first of his tutors, and afterwards, of hia 
luurtiers. Being raised to the throne in the eighth year of 
■bit age, and shortly after left by his father under the direc- 
Btwn of a regency, he cannot be supposed to be inclined, 
■Dor they capable of compelling him, to application. The 
■Ksult has been aa usual, a great propensity to active eser- 
I ciaes, and an aversion to studious pursuits. The ignorance 
\ which follows from these habits is such as to extend to arti- 
cles, known among mb to every person above daily labour, 
' *Dd it not unfreqtiently shews itself in conversation, and be- 




KQ JUliscellaneoiis Extracts [Jamiarji 

trs^ys his inajesty into mistakes that sometimeB startle even 
well* rained courtiers. Thus, mention being accidentally 
made in his jiresence of the great power of the Turks some 
centuries ago, he observed, that it vras no wonder, as all 
the worl4 were Turks before the birth of our Saviour* 
Upon another occasion ,when the cruel execution of Louis 
16th, then recent, happening to be the subject of conversa- 
tion, one. of the courtiers remarked, that it was the second 
crime of that kind that stained the annals of modern Europe; 
the King asked with surprise, where such a deed had 
been perpetrated before ; the courtier replying, in England. 
Ferdinand asked with a look of disbelief, what EingofEIog- 
land was ever put to death by his people ? The other of 
course answering, Charles 1st ; his Majesty exclaiajed^ 
with some degree of warmth and indignation, * No^ SiTi it 
^ IS impossible, you are misinformed ; the English are too 
^ loj^al and too brave a people to be guilty of such an atro- 
< cious a crime.' He added * depend upon it, Sir, it is i 
' mere tale trumped up by the Jacobins at Paris to excuse 

* their own guilt by the example of so great a natipn ; itmiy 
^ do very well to deceive their own people, but will, not I 

* hope, dupe us.' — Monthly Magazine* 

PROPHECY ON RErORSf. 

When a lawyer sheds tears while he*s striking a docket ; 
When assessors heave sighs while they empty your pocket ; 
When reviewers feel pangs like the authors they cut up; 
When conscience for sale shall no longer be put up ; 
When placemen, unasked, throw up sinecures ; 
When any quack medicine performs any cures ; 
When women of eighty confess they're in years ; 
When they make such confession without shedding f eard ; 
When poor curates thri?e while fat Bishops got skinny; 
When a note with a shilling is preferred to a guinea ; 
When there's peace because tyrants are weary of killing; 
When a good thumping loaf's to be had for a shilling; 
When like cattle at market, base voters ar'n't sold; 
When tea scandal ceases, and fish fags don't scold ; 
When true taste shall suffer no more like a martyr ; 
When Shakespeare's preferrM to Timour the Tartar; 
IVhen ale's made again from good malt and bops ; \ 

When Corn Jews are found to rejoice at good crops ; > 

When Butchers, dear souls ! low'r the pi ce of their chopa; ' 



18104 from Foreign Joum^U. If 1 

When truth shall no longer be deemed a foul libel ; 
When men follow precepts they preach from the Bible ; 
When symptoms like these shall be seen through the land ; 
They'll seem to portend, 'J reform is at hand.' 

Morning Chronicle. 

THE LATE SPANISH GENERAL FORLIER. 

His Excellency Don Juan Diez Porlier is aboat thirtj 
jears of age, small in person, thin, but of a handsome appear- 
ance. He is nephew of the lale Minister Porlier, Marquis 
de Baxamar. He served as a midshipman in the battle of 
Trafalgar. He first became known in the late war against 
the tyranny of Buonaparte, h^ collecting a handful of de- 
serters from the actions in Castile under General Cuesta, 
with which only amounting to thirty men, he attacked fifty 
French advantageously posted near the city of Palencia, 
whoai he killed or took and presented to the Junta of Astu- 
rias. The latter then gave him the rank of Colonel, and he 
immediately formed a Gtierilla corps, called Cuerpo Franco, 
with which he did prodigies of valour against the enemy. 
ThiA corps afterwards became a respectable division. 
What gave him most credit in the time of the provincial 
Juntas, was his retreat from St. Andero, surrounded by four 
limes his number of enemies, from whom he escaped, and 
eren took and killed some of the French. This action^ 
covered Porlier with glory, and Ballasteros with sham^ , 
who made a disgraceful retreat to Oijon, in conse- 

?oence of which that part of the country was abandoned. 
?he other illustrious actions of Porlier are contained in the 
publick papers of that dtiy. He was latterly made a Maris* 
cat de Campo (Major-Oeneral) and his character is frank 
and noble. He is also a man of great energy and readiness, 
ais is proved by what, happened between him and the Mar- 
chioness of Matarosa; to whose daughter he is now marri- 
ed. The Marchioness was proud and haughty, and before 
she consented to the marriage of her daughter, she required 
Porlier to exhibit his titles of nobility. To the person sent 
to wait on him with this request, Porlier answered — * Tell 
^the Marchioness from me that my name is Juan Diez Por- 
tlier, and I require to know whether her daughter is to be 
^married to me or to my parchments ; if to the latter^ they 
'may both go to the Devil.' — Mommg Chronicle. 



17<2 MisedUmeom ExtrudM [JarnHrj 

INSCRIBED TO All ALDERMAN. 

Dum redUmfugat astra Phoetnu^ Hor. O. 21. lib. 3. 

Know je the land where the leaf of the myrtle 
Is bestowed on good liyers in eating sublime 1 
Where the race for fat ren'son, and lore of the tnrtle. 

Preside o*er the realms of an Epicure clime ? 
Know ye the land where the juice of the yine, 
I Makes Aldermen learned and Bishops diyine ? 

Where each CtnTioriUiont deep flush*d with its bloom. 
Waxes fat o*er the ey^s of the claret's perfume ? 
Thick spread is the table with choioest of fruit. 
And the voice of the rereller never is mute : 
Their rich robes, though varied, in beauty may vie;^ 
Tet the purple of Bacchus is deepest in dye :~- 
Tis the clime of the East— the return of the sun 
Looks down on the deeds which his children have done ; 
Then wild is the note and discordant the yell. 
When reeling and staggering, they hiccup— forewell. 



April lOtb, died in Connaught-Place, aged 70, 6. Ellis, 
Esq. of Sunning-Hill : bj which event society and literature 
have been deprived of one of their ornaments, and his 
friends have lost a man peculiarly formed to feel and inspire 
the warmest sentiments of friendship. One of his earliest 
attempts in literature was a share in the celebrated series of 
political satires, entitled *• The RoUiad, also Probationar/ 
Odes,' &c. Mr. Ellis was the writer of that severe and 
unjust invective against Mr. Pitt, in the second number of 
the Rolliad, which begins 

Pert without fire, without experience sage. 

He afterwards changed his political connexions ; but it was 
not till after his return from Lille, whither he had gone Id 
1797, with his friend Lord Malmesbury, that he became 
personally acquainted with Mr. Pitt. At the first interview 
two men of wit, the friends of both, amused themselves 
with allusions to the Rolliad, which as they probably in- 
tendedi visibly embarrassed Mr. Ellis. Mr. Pitt turned 



M**] from. Foreign Journals. 

Hind, and with a smile said, iu a manner full of grace and 
lod buDiDur, 

Immoage, tt a prima die hospts origine nobis. 

e instantly relieved Mr. Ellis from his embarrassment ; 
id both were probably afterwards amused by the applica- 
ma which the verses immediately foUowiug might have 
Iggested. 

Insidias inquil DanaSm, casusi/ue tuonim, 
Erroresgue tuns. 

To pardon political pleasantries, or even invectives, is an 
Fort of placability, which did not require bo safe andunas- 
kilable a greatness as that of Mr. Pitt. If was Mr. Ellis's 
tngular fortune to hare been also engaged in anolber eol- 
ation of political pleasantries, ' The Anti-Jacobin,' with 
iro colleagues of brilliant talents, with whom he continued 
I aSeclionate friendship the rest of his life. In 1790, he 
Published Ibe first edition of the ' Specimens of Early Eng- 
ih Poetry,' which, with the enlarged edition in 1801, and 
K ' Specimens of Early English Romances,' formed an 
Iportant conlribulion towards that growing study of our 
icient literature, which bas breathed a youthful spirit into 
aglish Poetry. His Essays on Ihe formation and progress 
t the English language are models of abridgment, in which 
leful information is shortly and modestly communicated, 
Hfaout inaccuracy or obscurity on the one hand, and with- 
it pretention or pedantry on Ihe other. In the abridg- 
ent of the old Romances, these prolix tales are rendered 
ore amusing by a gentle sneer, which is constantly visible 
trough the serious narrative, and which enlivens Ihe peru- 
l without destroying the interest. In the preface and 
ppendix to the labliaux of his friend Mr. Way, are to be 
und some of the purest and most classical passages of 
ddtsonian composilion which this age has produced. Mr. 
Ilia had been employed some time on a life of the late 
[r> Windham, which was intended to accompany some 
orks of that gentleman. The latter years of his life were 
nbittered by maladies, which his virtues, and the fricttd- 
|ip that they, still more than his talents, had procured, 
tppily^ enabled him lo endure wilh cheerful patience. 

Literary Panoramti- 



ir4 Miscellaneous Extracts [iaiioirjr, 



In one of the English Magazines, a question has been 
lately proposedi to find a word that will rhyme with silver^ 
it is said that one cannot be found in the language. If any 
of our readers can suggest one, we wish they would com- 
municate it. 

French Caricatures. The Oeant Noir^ the first number 
of which has just appeared, is remarkably bold. It has 
even had the audacity to indulg'e in a sort of contemptible 
ridicule of the Duchess of Angouleme, by stating that when 
that Princess visited the Abbe Sicard's establishment (for 
the deaf and dumb) she complained that his pupils did i^ot 
cry Vive le Rot! — The following caricature has beert sold 
privately. On the top of a large mat de cocagne (a long 

f>ole covered with soap) is placed a crown. Louis XYIiL 
B climbing up to reach it, and says to the Duke ot Wel- 
lington who is below him, *f upport me or I shall fall.' Thd 
King of Prussia who is still lower, is made to exclaim, ^Let 
' me take what suits me.' The Eiuperour of Russia says 
haughtily, < Behold my work.' The Emperour of Aus* 
tria is supporting them all op his shoulders, while yoniig 
Napoleon, who is pulling him by the skirts of hid coat, 
cries * Dear Orandpapa, leave all these folks to themselves.' 
The Emperoui replies, < It I leave them they will fall upoA 

* me.' Buonaparte, who is in a corner, observing what is 
passing, says to himself, * I climbed up twice withoiitt any 

• help.' [Courier.] 



CHARACTER OF MARET, DUKE O^ BAS8AN0, BY THE ARCHBISHOP 

or MECHLIN. 

He began his career in 1790, with reporting the pro- 
ceedings of the Constituent Assembly for a newspaper. 
Read the now neglected Memoirs ot Dumourier, and yoa 
will find him in the embassy of Chauvelin at London, at the 
time of the death of Louis XV. and on the eve of suppfaHt- 
ing the ambassadour, when the whole gang were driven from 
London. The diplomacy of the Convention appeared to 
have nothing alarming, or capable of stirring the robust fibres 
which form; the tissue of his heart. He was entrusted by 
the Convention with that mission which the AustriaiM 
disturbed at the entrance of the Yalteline, by seizing him, 



1816.] from Foreign Journals. 175 

Semonvtlle, and I know not whal oilier incendiarj. Restored 
lo France Uy eKCimni^e for Ihe daughter of Louis XV[. 
oa Ihe eslatilishiiienl of Ihe Coiisuluie he succeeded M. 
Ijdgurde, aa Secielar^ to Ihe Council of Goveviiaienl, and 
he held llial poal unliihe succeeded M. De Chanipagny as 
MiniMler of Foreign Allaiis — Ihal office had long been Ihe 
objeclof hia ambiliun. The labours of the Cabiuet, i 
naluie always obscure, presented to him a loo limiicd hori- 
zoDf too contracted a theatre for bis falenls. He would be 
(he miuister of Fiance, or rat her of Europe; for in Ihe slate 
in which things then were, the French Miniater for Foreign 
Ajfairs was nothing less. 

UiB mode of discneaing a subject is heavy, embarrassed, 
never preciiie, nor luminous ; his elocution, wiredrawn. His 
principles those of convenience, force, and all that train of 
sopbinma of which French diplontury baa been composed 
for Ibese lasl twenty-five years. The day spent in diBsip» 
(ion, the hour for labour at length arrives, and that is alntoi^'l 
always the hour at which nature reposes. The clock strikes, I 
twelve, business is recollected, and the Minister enrtoaei 
himself in his cabinet. The Clerks are called and urged to 
work- Evil to bim whom sleep overpowers. Aboiil live 
ig Ibe morning Ihe active Minister goes lo repose from his 
works of daikness, learing lo his wrelched underlings tl^ 
care of digesting the high (Conceptions with which he bMfc4 
entrusted Ibem. Demosthenes said, that bis labours sm^" 
of oil. Those of the Duke of Bassano have no belter odout 

Flallery is a certain way of succeeding with the Duke<](_ 
Bassano. Every thing aboiti him must be flattered and ad^J 
mired, down to ihe Duchess's lapdog. Ii was said by a 
of wil, Ibal that dog bad made many Auditors and Prefect^ 

The only talent, possessed by the Duke of Bassano, ' 
tbat of translating llie Emperour's ideas. It was curious f^fl 
sec with what an air he contemplated and listened to him- 
Vou would have sworn trial be was worshipping bini. The 
repreasiou of bis own reded ion was carried lo such a height, 
that be seemed lo alienate bis own mind in favour of Ihal of 
the Etnperour. He wroie lo me on the 6)h of July the fol- 
lowing words: ' The discourse you addressed to uie ae- 
'duced Rie, but (be Emperor remarked to me that it was 
' barl, and he is right.' 

The Duke of Bassano perfected that system of intrigue 
1 ind deception, by which the political characters, who have 



176 Miscellaneous Extrads [Jtrnmryt 

for so many years governed France, have constantly sought 
to distort facts. 

Publick opmion accuses the Duke of Bassano, with the 
most decided inclination for those proceedings, which in- 
fringe the security of other States. He is reproached with 
having declared against peace at Dresden, at a period when 
it would have left France in a highly flourishing state, even 
after the reverses of the Russian campaign. He is also re- 
proached with obstinately persisting in his warlike disposi- 
tion after the battle of Leipsic, and during the negotiations 
at Chatillon. To crown these serious charges, he is be- 
lieved to have acted a considerable part in the return of 
Napoleon, and be has shevtn a marked zeal for maintaining 
at the head of Affairs in France, a man who could not but 
be as fatal to the country, as useful to this Minister. Dur- 
ing the short existence of the Peerage, he was remarked 
for his warmth in favour of Napoleon I. and Napoleon 11. 
as if one of them had not been enough. 



ANECDOTE OP THE ARCHBISHOP OF MEOHLIlf. 

The Abbe de Pradt, whom Bonaparte had made Arch- 
bishop of Mechlin, and who was Ambassadour at Warsaw 
in November 1813, has lately published a very curious his- 
tory of his Embassy, which, while it presents a lively, pic- 
ture of the tyrant's ambition, displays in as strong a light 
the author's vanity. The following laughable anecdote on 
the subject of this book is in circulation at Paris : — ' Be- 

* fore publishing his work, M. De Pradt read it to several 
^ persons in private. In a select circle where he had promis- 

* ed to read the first part of it, there happened to be present 
^ a great Captain, whom the battle of Waterloo had raised 

* to the highest pinnacle of military glory. M. De Pradt 

* commenced it in these terms : — The Emperour was sur- 
^ prised uttering in a profound reverie these memorable 

* words — had it not been for one man^ I should have been 

* master of the world. At these words all eyes were turn- 

* ed to the illustrious stranger — a fluttering murmur made 

* the application of them to him, and all were pleased with 

* themselves for seizing so rapidly their spirit.' M. De* 

* Pradt continued his readings * that man was myself. The 
^ 'surprise of the company may be conceived ; it would be 
^ easier to imagine than express it.' 



ft 

i 



Marlhorougk and W^ellington. TheSlh number of Ihe 
TutUr, conlaiiis the followitig paragraph — ' But, I believe 
!^the reader oufrt)n<; me, anil li\es his iniHgination tipoa the 
^Duke of Marlborough. II ia me^hinkx a pleaaing reflec- 
^1ion to conaiiler Ihe ilispensationa of Providence in the 
^fortune of Ihia illualrioiia man, who in ihe space of foily 
'^ears, has pasaed through all the gradalions of human 
••life, until he has ascended to Ihe character of a Prince, 
P and become Ihe scourge of a tjrant, who sat eii one of the 
^ greatest thrones of Europe.' 

What may be said of Wellbigton * 

TheCampat Verbts. Aprivafelellerinoneof IheFrcnci 
ipers givea tlie (allowing description of this camp : I have 
len the Camp at Yerlua, jou would be delighted nilh the 
£ood order lliat prevails there. In that immense plain, 
each corps has endeavoured to place ilself where there is 
wood and water, articles icarce enough in this part of the 
Country ; thus Ihey form separate campa ; but Ihe plain being 
'"(are of wood, they may all be seen al ouce with the naked 
lye, and on approaching Ihem we perceive that nearly the 
ae system of order prevails in ah -. piles of arma in the 
it line; behind, Ibatcbed covers for Ihe troops : to the 
_ ight Ihe cannon behind Ihe caisaons, and more in the rear, 
■fte camp oven and the baggage. Everything even lo the 
Itlchena is diaposed with regularity. Ipassed through them 
at the hoitr when they were getting dinner ; the kettles were 
placed in a line at a convenient distance from Ihe barracks, 
and distribuled by various divisions of six each. What 
Btruck me forcibly, was Ihe silence that reigned among this 
collected mnllitude of soldiers. Here aod there were seen 
peaiants carrying provisions, and their appearance beitpoke 
xalher Ihe hope of gain than the fear of pillage. In the 
^llle town of Verlus, the head quarters, there is an astonish- 
ig bustle : but there is the same tranquillity on Ihe part of 
^B inhabitants : no dispiilea about lodgings, distributions, 
&c. Erections of every kind have sprung wp with rapidi- 
ty — cofTee houses, eating houses, show booths, &c. Al one 
of these booths, I saw wriltej) up. Mocha Coffttt Ices, 
Sherbet. In fine, Alexander must have found here an image 
of one of those creations of lowns, which presented them- 
selves to Catharine in her journey in the UkEame. 



178 Mi8c$Haneou$ Exirads [Jainiarj» 



[The subject of mendicity bat lately excited great at- 
tetition in England, and received a parliamentary iovestiga- 
tion previous to adopting a system for correcting it. Its 
abuses in London are almost incredible, and the street beg- 
gars are very rarely indeed real objects of charity. In the 
course of examination, many most curious facts were related 
by different witnesses, and some accounts of the most re- 
markable beggars given. Their gains were various, and in 
some instances averaged two guineas a day. The more 
opulent of the fraternity one day in the week, or at some 
stated period retired from the scene of their labours, and 
assumed a decent dress and sometimes considerable expense 
in their mode of living. The following anecdote, extracted 
from an English paper, though anonymous, is not so extra- 
ordinary as some that were related by respectable witnesses' 
on their own knowledge.] 

Mmdicity, — An anonymous correspondent has favoured 
lis with the following curious account, which he assures us 
is genuine : — He was walking in the neighbourhood of Ed- 
monton with a friend, who requested his particular attention 
to a female, then happening to be in the same pathway with 
them, she having attracted much notice in that quarter, in 
consequence of her recent marriage under very peculis^ 
circumstances. — She had been a servant at a tavern there, 
and waited on the guests of the Sunday ordinary, which is 
held throughout the year. At this ordinary one gentiemaii 
was a constant attendant, and was generally supposed to 
be one of the numerous clerks of the city, who have no 
other opportunity of enjoying the fresh air. He usually 
occupied the same seat, and appeared much reserved, ex- 
cept when addressing the maid servant, towards whom his 
demeanour was very kind and condescending — and at length 
he made a formal proposal of marriage to her. The girl, 
who had more sense than often falls to the lot of persons in 
that sphere of life, did not object to the proposal, but eamr 
estly entreated that a small sum might be settled as a pro? 
vision against any casualties, which, in consequence of her 
intended elevation, she might be less able to bear. Thil 
suggestion met with all the attention that could be hoped 
for. The gentleman agreed to settle one thousand pounds^ 
and lost no time in selling out stock sufficient for raisiQg 
that sum. The happy day was now appointed, but not 



2816.] from Foreign JoUmaU* IT 9 

before the lover had explained to the fair object of his 
choice, that they could only meet once a weeky and had 
exacted from her a promise never to urge him to a further 
explanation of the circumstances, which reduced him to 
(he necessity of submitting *to so painful a separation I — 
They were accordingly married, and went on very pleli- 
santly, until the lady prompted by a curiosity which 
(whether true or not we will not venture to affirm) is said 
to be peculiar to her sex, requested that he would confide 
the secret to her. At this request, the manner of the 
enamoured spouse became much altered, and after betray- 
ing a considerable degree of irritation, he commanded her 
never to obtrude the subject upon him again. The storm 
was thus suffered to blow over for a time ; but curiosity is 
one of the most powerful motives agitating the human breast, 
and this new Psyche had not philosophy enough to with- 
stand it. She again entreated a solution of the mystery, 
but the entreaty was met only by a frown, and she pleaded 
her affection — and finding all of no avail, she threatened to 
have him watched to the place of his retreat. This had 
the effect of extorting a declaration from him, and he assur* 
ed her that she might probably discover his secret, but, that 
if she didf she would never see him afterwards . Notwith- 
standing this declaration, made with great coolness and 
firmness, the imprudent woman persisted, and by the help 
of some busy friends, was introduced to her husband in hi» 
disguise, as one of the common beggars of the metropolis. 
She spoke to him^n that situation, but as he then told her, 
for the last time, and she has never seen him since ! 



[The celebrated sculptor, Canova, was sent by the Pope to 
Paris to reclaim the works of art which the French carried 
off from Rome. When Buonaparte was first Consul, he 
invited Canova to fix himself in Paris. He answered, that 
be did not meddle with politicks, but that he never could 
wish to live under the dominion of him, whd had destroyed 
the organization of his native country, (Venice.) The 
folbwing are extracts of letters from him, taken from an 
English paper. It should not be forgottei^ on this question 
of the restoration of the objects of art taken from Rome, that 
when it was first contemplated, all the principal French 
^(s signed a remonstrance against it, addressed to th# 
Directory.] 



Uft MUeellaneam ExtratU [Jaiimqr^ 

Pari&, Sepi. 31. 

TIte eause of Fine Arts m at length lafe into port ; and 
ft 18 to the generous and anremitted exertions of the British 
Minister, Lord Castlefeagh and Mr. Secretary Hamilton^ 
that Rome will be indebted for the triumphing in the d^' 
nands that I came hither to make in her name. What 
gratitude ought we not to feel to the magnanimous British 
nation ! Fully does she deserve that the Arts, in return 
&r this generous act, should joia hand in hand to raise m 
perpetual monument to her name ; but the best and mora 
lastmg monument will be engraved in the heart of ever/ 
Italian, who, on beholding the sacred objects tern fnmi their 
country, again restored to* her, will recollect the nation that 
stood foHh as their advocate for this restitution, and will 
sail down upon her the blessings of Providence. 

Our work is about to begin. Tuscany, Milan and Ye* 
nice have retaken all that belongs to them. I shall be tho 
last and shall require more time ; for the objects claimed 
by Rome^ as you well know, are much more numerous. I 
am burning with impatience lo see every thing packed up 
and gope, then will I fly across the sea to- spadiaie in your 
magnificent metropolis, with my heart at ease, and to em* 
brace you.. 

PariSj Oci. 5th» 

We are at fast beginning to drag forward from this great 
cavern of stolen goods, the precious objects of art taken 
from Rome. On the 2d instant, among the many fine paint*^ 
ings that were removed, we noticed that stupendous pro- 
duction, the Transfigtiraiion^ the Comimmian of 8^* 
Jerome^ the Virgin of Fuligno ; the next day several other 
exquisite pictures came away, together with the group of 
Cupid and Psyche^ the two Brutu8*8j the very ancient 
bust of AjaXy and other no less precious objects of sculp* 
ture. Yesterday the Dying Gladiator left his French 
abode, and the Torso. We remove this day the two fiift 
statues in the world, the Apollo and the Liaocoan. IV 
morrow Mercury will quit the house between Flora of the 
capitol and the Venus. The Muses will follow next, and 
so on to the close of this portentous procession. 

October fUfc. h 

In my letter of the 5th instant, I informed you what we Ij 

irett doing here in regard to the objects of art, which we«* h 




from Fortign Journals. 

removing froin the Museuoi. The most Taluable of them 

Ive to go by land, and will set off next neek accompanied 

ky the celebrated Venetian horses, and all Ihe oilier preci- 

is KTticles beloniiing lo Lombard^, Piedmuiil und Tusrany. 

I Tte convoy will be escoiled by strong delaihinen!s of Au- 

Irian troops. The remainder, which may belong lo Rome, 

lill be embarked and sent by sea lo llaly. Among these, 

1 happy lo inform yon, for 1 know how much you will 

pjoice al it, that even all our ancienl manuscripls, medals, 

i other equally valuable objects of antlcjuily will be in- 

luded, to the great satisfaclton no lioiibl of the loyal Dtnon, 

i of that emineiif Ilatian patriot £. A. Vieconii, mem- 

KTB of the Inslitule. 

j- P. S. I had nearly forgot (o tell you, thai even the paint- 
^ and statues lately belon^iug lo Ihe Albani family are to 
B restored. Do nor believe all the lies which the French 
^ers are aulhorized to pour forih about Ihe Venus de 
Kedicia* She is still as she was before, salva el incolumis. 



^ IKed at Berne, Switzerland, of an apoplexy, in his 46fh 
!ar, OoDPRiEB Mind, a painter celebrated for liis ex- 
(ordinary delineations of Bears and Cats. His father, 
lUl living in Berne, is a native of Lipscli, in Upper Huo- 
Wy, and learned the Irade of a cabinet maker at Kreni- 
The son was a pupil of Frendenberger, and his ex- 
raordtoary talents in the representation of various species 
of animals, but especially those abovementioned, in paint- 
ings in water-colours, are attested not ooly by the nume- 
KMM productions of his pencil in the portfolios of various 
amateurs of Benie, Zurich, Basle, and other places, but also 
by the high encomiums passed on his performances by many 
artists of the highest eminence. Madame Lebrun, of Paris, 
perhaps the first living female painter, never failed in her 
different journies through Switzerland, to purchase several 
of Mind's performances, declaring at Ihe same time, that 
they were real master-pieces of their kind, and would be 
acknowledged as such in Ihe French melropolls. It was she 
who first gave lo our artist the appellation of Le Rapknel 
drs Ckats, the Raphael of Gals, which he has ever since 
retained, and by which many strangers enquire for him ot 
Beroe. Mind was ceilainly well worthy of this name, not 
«Dly on account of the correctness of his drawings of those 



ISS MisceUamovs Extracts^ &c. [Japuarj, 

rniimalsy and the trne thoagh dignified deliDeafion of their 
forms, but more especialljr on account of the life and spurit 
which he transfused into them in his pictures. The anec- 
tion of Mind for the feline race might be termed fraternal. 
When he was at work, a favourite cat generally set by his 
side ; and he was often seen employed at his table with an 
old cat on his lap, and two or three kittens on both shoul* 
ders, or even in the hollow formed at the back of his neck 
by the inclination of his head. Thus encumbered, he 
would sit for hours together at his work, and abstain from 
every motion that could in the least incommode his beloved 
favourites* In winter evenings, Mind used to amuse him- 
self M'ith carving bears, cats, and other animals, in miniature, 
out of wild chesnut tree, with such accuracy and skill, that 
they had a rapid sale, and were bought up by many as or-* 
ments for their chimney pieces. It is to be regretted that 
insects soon attacked the wood, and thus destroyed these 

E ret ty little figures. Mind passed many of his happiest 
ours at the Bears' den in Berne, where from remote anti- 
quity two live bears have been constantly kept. No soon* 
er did Friedli^ by which name he was best known at Berne^ 
make his appearance, than the bears hastened to him with a 
friendly grunt, upon which they were invariably rewarded 
with a piece of bread, or an apple, from the pocket of their 
benefactor and friend. Next to cats and bears, Mind re- 
ceived the greatest delight from looking over works of art, 
particularly prints in which animals were introduced. 
Among these, however, the lions of Rubens, some pieces by 
Rembrandt and Potter, and Reidinger's stags, were the only 
copies that he allowed to be excellent. With the other ani- 
mals by Riedinger he found fault, almost without exception, 
as incorrect. The bears by the same artist he charac-, 
terized as absolute monsters; ^neither did he entertain a 
much more favourable opinion of the celebrated cats of 
Cornelius Vischer, and Hollar. On other works, such 
chiefly as hunting and historical compositions, he often pro- 
nounced most severe opinions, without the least regard io 
the celebrity of the master; and on other matters, notwith- 
standing his secluded life, he displayed profound penetra* 
tion, and correct. judgment. The following parody of the 
verses of Catullus, on Lesbia's sparrow, has been proposed 
ft« «n appropriate inscription for this artist : 

Lugete, O Feles, Unique lugeie t 
Mortuui eU vobis amicus. 



^316*] jRtitM of Babyl(m. 18» 



THE MOITARCH MIIC8TREL. — A BONNET BT LORD BTROJir. 

The Harp the Monarch Minstrkl swept. 
The king of men — the lord of Heaven, — 
Which Musick hallowed while she wept 
0*er tones her heart of hearts had given — 
Redoubled be her tears — its ehords are riven i 

It softened men of iron mould. 

It gave them virtues not their own ; 

No ear so dull — no soul so cold 
That felt not — ^fired not to the tone. 
Till David's lyre grew mightier than his Throned 

It told the triumphs of our King- 
It wafted glory to our Goo- 
It made our gladdened vallies ring— 

The cedars bow — the mountains nod — 
Its sounds aspired to Heaven, and there abode* 

Since then, though heard on earth no more— ' 

Devotion and her daughter. Love, 
Still bid the bursting spirit soar. 

To sounds that seem as from above. 
In dreams that day*s broad light cannot remove. 



FROM THE MONTHLY MAGAZINE FOR OCTOBER. 

f!xtract8 from a Memoir on the Ruins of Babylon^ on 
the east side of the Euphrates ; by Cflaudius James 
Richf Esq. resident for the Honourable East India 
Company at the Court of the Pacha of Bagdad* 

I WAS completelj deceived in mj anticipation about 
fiabjion : instead of a few insulated mounds, I found the 
whole face of the country covered with, vestiges of building, 
(0 some places consisting of brick walls surprisingly fresh, 
, iQ others merely of a vast succesi^ion of mounds of rubbish 
of such indeterminate figures, variety, and extent, as to in- 
Tolve the person who would have formed any theory in 



1B4 Mtmoir on th» ^SuaOitjn 

inextricable confusion. The whole country between Bif- 
dad and Hellah h perfectly flat, and (with the exception 
of a few spots as you approach the latter place) ao uncul- 
tivated waste. That it was at some former period in a far 
diiferent state, is evident from the number €>f canals by 
which it is traversed, now dry and neglected ; and the 
quantity of heaps of earth, covered with fragmentB •f brick 
and broken tiles, which are seen in every direction — ^tbe 
indisputable traces of former population* 

At present the only inhabitants of this tract, are the Zo- 
beide Arabs, the Sheikh of which tribe is responsible for 
the security of the road, which is so much frequented that 
robberies are comparatively seldom heard of. At conve- 
nient distances, khans or caravanserais are erected for ^ the 
accommodation of travellers, and to each of them ia attach- 
ed a small village of Fellahs. 

The ruins of Babylon may be said to commence from 
Mohawil, (he whole country between it and Hellah exhib- 
iting at intervals, traces of buildings, in whicli are discover- 
able burnt and unburnt bricks and bitumen ; three mounds, 
in particular, Jittract attention from their magnitude. The 
ground to the right and left of the road bears the wpear- 
ance of being partially and occasionally a morass, though, 
at the time we passed it, it was perfectly dry ; the road 
which is due south, lies within a quarter of a mile of the 
celebrated mass, called by Pietro Delia Yalle, the Tower 
of Belus ; Hellah is nine miles from Mohawil, and nearly 
forty eight from Bagdad. 

Hellah is called by Abulfeda, Hellah Bere Moreid. The 
district called by the natives El-Aredh Babel, extends on 
both sides of the Euphrates. Its latitude, according to 
Niebnhr, is 32^. 28', and it is situated on the western bank 
of the Euphrates, a few shops and hnts only being on the 
eastern. It is meanly built, and its population does not 
exceed between 6 and 7000, consisting of Arabs and Jews, 
(who have one synagogue, there being no Christians, and 
only such Turks as are employed in the government.) 
A?nong the gardens to the west of the Husseinia gate, is 
the Mesjid-essheras, a mosque built on the spot where 
popular tradition says, a miracle was wrought, similar to that 
of the prophet Joshua. This country abounds in pretend- 
ed tombs of prophets. On the Tigris, between Bagdad and 
Bassora, they show the sepulchre of Ezra ; twelve miles is 



1816.] 



Rvins of Babylon. 



the desert, to the aoulh weat of Hellah, is lha( of Ezekiel, 
*iirf to the southward, the tomb of Job : Ihe two former are 
places of pilgrimage of the Jews, who do not acknowledge 
Ihose of Job and Joahua. 

The inhabitants of Hellah bear a very bad character. 
The air U aalubrions, and ihe soil extremely fertile, pro- 
ducing ^reat quantities of rice, datea, and graiu of diSer' 
«nt kinds, though it is not cultivated to above half the de- 
cree of which it 13 susceptible. The grand cause of this 
fertilily, is the Euphrates, the banks of which are lower, 
and Ihe slream more e(|ual than the Tigris. Sirabo says, 
thai it was a stadium in breadth at Babylon ; according (o 
Rennel, about 491 English feet, or, U'Anville's slill more 
reduced scale, 330. Niebubr says, at Hellah it is ^OO 
Danish feet broad ; my measurement by a graduated line 
At the bridge there, brings it to 75 fathoms, or 4.50 feet. Its 
breadth) however, varies in its passage through the ruins. 
The Euphrates rises at an earlier period than Ihe Tigris ; 
n the middle of the winter it increases a little, but falls 
_ after ; in March it again rises, and in Ihe latter 

tad of April is at its full, continuing so to the latter end of 
pune. When at its height it overflows the surrounding 
Jountry, Gils the canals dug for its reception, without Ihe 
nightest exertion of laboirr, ami facilitates agriculture in a 
snrprising degree. The ruins of Babylon are then inun- 
dated, so BB to render many parts of them inaccessible, by 
converliog the vallies among them into morasses. Bui ihe 
most remarkable inundation of Ihe Euphrates is at Feln- 
^ah, twelve leagues to the westward of Bagdad, where on 
breaking down the dike which confines ils waters within 
their proper channel, they flow over the country, and ex- 
tend nearly lo the banks of Ihe Tigris, with a depth suffi- 
cient to render them navigable for rafis and flal-bollomed 

lats. 

The water of Ihe Euphrates is esteemed more aahtbrious 

!8n that of the Tigris, lis general course through the site 

Babylon, is north and south. 1 questioned Ihe fishermen 
who ply on the river, respecting ils bottom, and Ihey all 
agreed Ibaf bricks and other fragments of building are very 
Commonly found in it. 

On the ruins of Babylon there is not a single tree grow- 
ig, excepting one old one ; but in the intervals of the 

ins, where, in all probabilily, no building ever stood, there 

Vol.11. No. 5. 24 



i 

I 






186 Memoir an the [Jamiarjt 

are some patches of cultivation. I made the most diligent 
search all through the gardens, but found not the slightest 
vestige of ruins, though previously I heard of many,' an ex- 
ample of the value of information resting solely on the 
authority of the natives. The reason is obvious. Ruins 
composed like those of Babylon, of heaps of rubbish, im- 
pregnated with nitre, cannot be cultivated, and any infe- 
riour mound would, of course, be levelled in making the 
garden. 

The ruins of the eastern quarter of Babylon commence 
about two miles above Hellah, and consist of two large 
masdes or mounds, connected with and lying south and 
north of each other, and several smaller ones which cross 
the plain at different intervals. The northern termination 
of this plain is Pietro Delia Yalle's ruin, from the southeast 
angle of which (where it evidently once joined, being only 
obliterated there by two canals,) proceeds a narrow 
ridge or mound of earth, wearing the appearance of haviqf 
been a boundary wall. This ridge forms a kind of circular 
inclosure, and joins the southern point of the most souther- 
ly of the two graud masses. , 

The river bank is skirted by a ruin, which I shall for 
perspicuity'^ sake call its embankment, though, as will 
oereafter be seen, there is good j^eason for supposing it was. 
never intended for one. It commences on a line with the 
lower extremity of the southern grand mound, and is there 
nearly three hundred yards broad at its base, from the east 
angle of which a mound proceeds, taking a sweep to the 
south east, so as to be nearly parallel with, and forty yards 
more to the south than the boundary : this loses itself i|i 
the plain, and is in fact the most southerly of all the ruins. 
The embankment is continued in a right line to the norths 
and diminishes in breadth, but increases in elevation, tilt 
at the distance of seven hundred and fifty yards from ite 
commencement, where it is forty feet perpendicular height, 
and is interrupted by a break nearly of the same breadth 
with the river : at this point a triangular piece of ground, 
commences, recently gained from the river, which deserts 
its original channel above, and returns to it again here : 
this gained ground is a hundred and ten yards in length^ 
and two hundred and fifty in breadth at its angle or poifl^ 
and along its base are traces of a continuation of the em- 
bankment^ which is there a narrow line, that soon loses 



^ 




Ruins of Babylon. 

I ihelf. Above this the bank of the river affords nothing 
I worthy of remarli ; for Ihoirgh in some places there ar 
Blight vestiges of building, (hey were evidently oot coi, 
Meted with Ihe abovemenliuned embanlcmenl- 

The whole of Ihe area inclosed by Ihe boundary on Ihe 
HUt and soulh, and river on Ihe west, is two miles and six 
kindred yards in breadth from east to west (exclusive of 
Re gained ground, which I do not take into account, nB 
bmprising no part of the ruin*,} as much from Pieiro D.!- 
t V die's ruin lo the southern pari of the boundary, or two 
Mea and one thousand yards to the most aoulherly mound 
if all, which has been already mentioned as branching off 
*frotn the embankment. This space is again longiludinally 
sobdivided inio nearly half, by a straight line of nearly the 
■ailie kind as ihe boundary, but nnuch its inferionr in point of 
Bi2e. This may have crossed Ihe whole enclosure from south 
to north, but at present only a mile of it remains. Exactly 
pBtrallel with t(, and a lillle more than a hundred yards lo 
the weal of it, is another line precisely of a similar descrip- 
lion, but still smaller and shorter ; its northern termination 
ia a high heap of rubbish of a curious red colour, nearly 
three hundred yards long and one hundred broad, lermi- 
Bating on the lop in a ridge : it has been dug into varioua 
parU, but few or no line whole bricks have been found in 
It. All the ruins of Babylon are contained within the 
western division of the area, that is, between Ihe innermost 
of these lines and the river, there being vestiges of building 
ill the eastern or largest division between the outermost line 
and the external boundary. Before entering into a minute 
description of the ruins, to avoid repetition, it is necessary 
to state that Ihey consist of mounds of earth, formed by 
t6e decomposition of building, channelled and furrowed by 
the weather, and Ihe surface of them strewed with pieces 
of brick, bitumen and pottery. 

On taking a view of Ihe ruins from south to north, the 
first object that attracts allenlion is the low mound connect- 
ed with the embarkment; on it are two lillle parallel walla 
close together, and only a few feel in height and breadth, 
which bear indisputable marks of having formed part of a 
Mahommetan oratory, or koubbe. This ruin is called jum- 
jttna (Calvary) and gives iis name to a village a lillle to the 
left of it. To this succeeds the Rrst grand mass of ruins, 
which is one thousand one hundred yards in length, and 



188 Memoir on ike [Jaanaix, 

eight hundred in greatest breadth, its 6gore nearly resem- 
bling that o{ a quadrant : id height is irregular, but the most 
elevated part maj be about fifty or sixty feet above the 
level of (he plain, and it has been dug into for the purpose 
of procuring bricks. Just below the highest part of it, is 
a small dome in an oblong inclosure, which it is pretended 
contains the body of a son of Ali, named Amran, together 
with those of seven of his companions, all slain at the battle 
of Heliah* Unfortunately for the credit of the tradition, 
however, it is proved on better authority to be a fraud, not 
uncommon in these parts, Ali having had no son of this 
description. From the most remarkable object on it I shall 
distinguish this mound by the name of Amran. 

On the north is a valley of five hundred and fifty yards in 
length, the area of which is covered with tussocks of rank 
grass, and crossed by a line of ruins of very little elevation. 
To this succeeds the second grand heap of ruins, the shape ef 
which is nearly a square, of seven hundred yards length and 
breadth, and its southwest angle is connected with the 
northwest angle of the mounds of Amran, by a ridge of 
considerable height and nearly one hundred yards in breadth. 
This is the place where Beauchamp made his observations, 
and it is certainly the most interesting part of the rains 
of Babylon t every vestige discoverable in it, declares it to 
have been composed of buildings far superiour to ali the 
rest which have left traces in the eastern quarter : the bricks 
are of the finest description ; and notwithstanding this is 
the grand storehouse of them, and that the greatest supplies 
have been and are now constantly drawn from it, they ap- 
pear still to be abundant. But the operation of extracting 
the bricks has caused great confusion, and contributed much 
to increase the difficulty of decyphering the original desigt 
of this mound, as in search of them the workmen pierce 
info it in every direction, hollowing out deep ravines and 

f'its, and throwing up the rubbish in heaps on the surface, 
n some instances they have bored into the solid niasii 
forming winding caverns and subterranean passages, whick, 
from their being left without adequate support, frequently 
bury the workmen in rubbish. In all these excavationSf 
walls of burnt brick laid in lime mortar of a very good 
quality are seen ; and in addition to the substances generajl/ 
strewed on the surfaces of all these mounds, we here fii^ 
fragments of alabaster vesa^els, fine earthen ware, niarhliB} 







Ruins of Babylon. 189 

1 great quantities of varoished tile, the glazing and 
louring of whicli are surprisingly fieali. In a htiilDW 
ir the soulhern part, I found a sepulclirul urn of carltien 
r6, trhich had been broken ia digging, sod near it lay 
tie human bones which pulverized nilb the touch. 
To be more particular in my description of Ihis mound, 
Dot more than two hundred yards from its northern exlre- 
Riity is a ravine, hollowed out by those who dig for bricks, 
in length near a hundred yaida, and thirty feet wide by 
forty or fifty deep. On one side of if a few yards of wall 
remain standing, the face of which is very clean and peifect, 
and it appears to have been the frout of some buildiug. 
The opposite side is so confused a mass of rubbish, that it 
should seem the ravine had been worked through a solid 
building. Under the foundations at the southern end an 
opening is made, wliich discovers a subterranean passage:, 
floored and wallej with Urge bricks laid in bitumen, and 
covered over iwlh pieces of sandstone, a yard thick and 
Several yar^h long, on which the whole being so great as to 
have given a considerable degree of obliquity to the side 
walU o:' the passage. It is half full of blackish water 
(probably rainwater impregnated with nitre, in filtering 
tftrougb the ruins which are very productive of it) and the 
worl nen say (hat some way on it is high enough for a 
horseman to pass upright ; as much as I saw of it, it waa 
near seven feet in height, and its course to the south- 

A little to the west of the ravine ia the next remarkable 
object, called by the natives the Kasr, or Palace, by which 
appellation I shall de'^ignale the whole mass. It is a very 
remarkable ruin, which being uncovered and in pail detach- 
ed from the rubbish, is visible from a considerable distance, 
but so surprisingly fresh in its appearance, that it was only 
after a minute inspection, 1 was aalis5ed of its being in 
reality a Babylonian remain. It consists of several walla 
and piers (which face the cardinal points) eight feel in 
thickness, in some places ornamented with uiches, and in 
others strengthened by pilasters and butlresses, built of 
fine burnt brick, (still perfectly clean and sharp,) laid in 
liiue cement of such tenacity, that those whose business it 
is, have given op working it, on account of the extreme 
^l^culty of extracting them whole. The tops of these 
^■Jls are broken, and may have been much higher. On the 
^Mside they Lave been cleared in some places nearly to the 



19t Memoir on the [Jamuoy, 

fouDdatioDS, but the internal ipaces occupied by them are 
yet filled with rubbish in some parts almoat to their aoniniit. 
One part of the wall has been split into three parts and 
overthrown as if by an earthquake ; some detached walls 
of the same kind, standing at different distances, show what 
remains, to have been only a small part of the original fab- 
rick ; indeed, it appears that the passage in the ravine, to- 
gether with the wall which crosses its upper end, were con- 
nected with it. There are some hollows underneath, in 
which several persons have lost their lives ; so that no one 
will venture into them, and their entrances have now become 
choked with rubbish. Near this ruin is a heap of rubbishy 
the sides of which are curiously streaked by the alternation 
of its materials, the chief part of which, it is probable, was 
unburnt brick, of which I found a small quantity in the 
neighbourhood, but no reeds were discoverable in the in- 
terstices. There are two paths made near this ruin by the 
workmen who carry down their bricks to the river side, 
whence they are transported by boats toHellah: and a 
little to the northeast of it is the famous tree which the na- 
tives call Athebiy and maintain to have been flourishing in 
ancient Babylon, from the destruction of which they say, 
God purposely preserved it that it might afford Ali a eon* 
venient place to tie up bis horse after the battle of Helhh! 
It stands on a kind of ridge, and nothing more than one side 
of its trunk remains (by which it appears to have been id 
considerable girth ;) yet the branches at the top are pe^ 
fectly verdant, and gently waving in the wind proddce s 
melancholy rustling sound- It is an evergreen ^omethii^ 
resembling the lignumvUaef and of a kind I believe not 
common in this part of the country, though I am told there 
is a tree of the same description at Bassora. 

All the people of the country assert, that it is extremely 
dangerous to approach this mound ofter nightfall, on accooot 
of the multitude of evil spirits by which it is haunted. 

A mile to the north of the Kasr, or full five miles distant 
from Hellah, and nine hundred and fifty yards from tbe 
river-bank, is the last ruin of this series, which has been 
described by Pietro Delia Yalle, who determines it to have 
been the tower of Belus, an opinion adopted by RenoeL 
The natives call it Mukalib^, (or according to the vulgar 
Arab pronunciation of these parts, Mujelibd,) meanlif 
overturned ; they sometimes also apply this term to A0 



1816.] Ruins cf Babylon. IM 

mounds of the Kasr. It is of an oblong shape, irregular 
in its height and the measurement of its sides, whieh face 
the cardinal points ; the northern side being two hund red 
yards in length, the southern two hundred and nineteen, 
the eastern one hundred and eighty-two, and the western 
one hundred and thirty-six : the elevation of the east or 
highest angle, one hundred and forty-one feet. The western 
face, which is the least elevated, is the most interesting on 
account of the appearance of building it presents. Near 
the summit of it appears a low wall, with interruptions, 
built of unbumt bricks, mixed up with chopped straw or 
reedfl, and cemented with clay mortar of great thickness, 
having between every layer a layer of reeds ; and on the 
north side are also some vestiges of a similar construction. 
The south west argle is crowned by something like a turret 
or lantern : the other angles are in a less perfect state, but 
may originally have been ornamented in the same manner. 
The western face is lowest and easiest of ascent, the north- 
ern the most difficult. All are worn into furrows by the 
weather ; and in some places where several channels of rain 
have united together, these furrows are of great depth, pen- 
etrate a considerable way into the mound. The summit 
is covered with heaps of rubbish, in digging into some of 
which, layers of broken burnt brick cemented with mortar 
are discovered, and whole bricks with inscriptions on them 
are here and there found : the whole is covered with innu- 
merable fragments of pottery, brick, bitumen, pebbles, vit- 
rified brick or scoria, and even shells, bits of glass,, and 
■lother of pearl. On asking a Turk how he imagined these 
htter substances were brought there, he replied without the 
least hesitation, * By the Deluge.' There are many dens 
of wild beasts in various parts, in one' of which I found the 
boDea of sheep and other animals, and perceived a strong 
smell like that of a lion. I also found quantities of porcu- 
pine's quills, and in most of the cavities are numbers of bats 
and owls. Here I first heard the oriental account of satyrs. 
I had always imagined the belief of their existence was 
confined to the mythology of the west : but a Choadar, who 
was with me when I examined this ruin, mentioned by acci- 
dent, that in this desert an animal is found, resembling a 
man from the head to the waist, but having the thighs and 
legs of a sheep or goat; he said also that the Arabs hunt it 
witli dogs, and eat the lower parts, abstaining from the upper. 



102 Memoir an ik$ [Jaowrf, 

on account of their resemblance to those of the human spe** 
cies. *' But wild beasts of the desert shall lie there, and their 
houses shall be full of doleful creatures : and owls shall 
dwell there, and satyrs shall dance there.'' Isaiah xiii. 21* 
I with difficulty refrain from transcribing the whole of this 
most spirited chapter. The Hebrew word, which we trans- 
late satyrSy is D^TJW) literally " the hairy ones/' a significa- 
tion which has been preserved in the vulgate. In LeT. 
xvii. 9. the word is used for " devils, evil spirits." The 
present Jews understand it in this place as synonymous with 
U*^^j or demons. I know not why we introduced the word 
aa/^r«,*-probably on the authority of Aben Ezra, or some 
ottier commentator ; but we should have been cautions how 
we made the prophet accountable in a manner for a fabulous 
being. Since the above was written, I find that the belief 
of the existence of satyrs is by no means rare in this coun- 
try. The Arabs call them Sied Assad, and say that they 
abound in some woody places near Semara, on the Ea- 
phrates. 

But although there are no ruins in the immediate Ticinitj 
of the river, by far the most stupendous and surprising 
mass of all the remains of Babylon, is situated in thu de- 
sert, about six miles to the south-west of Hellah. It is cal- 
led by the Arabs Birs Nemroudy by the Jews Nebuchad- 
nezzar's prison, and has been described both by Pere Ema- 
nuel, and Niebuhr (who was prevented from inspecting it 
closely by fear of the Arabs,) but I believe it has not been 
noticed by any other traveller. 

The Birs Nemroud is a mound of an oblong figure, tte 
total circumference of which is seven hundred and sixty tfo 
yards. At the eastern side it is cloven by a deep furrow, 
and is not more than fifty or sixty feet high ; but at the 
western it rises in a conical figure to the elevation of tme 
hundred and ninety-eight feet, and on its summit is a soKd 

Eile of brick, thirty-seven feet high by twenty-eight Is 
readth, diminishing in thickness to the top, which is broken 
and irregular, and rent by a large fissure extending through 
a third of its height. It is perforated in smalt square botes 
disposed in rhomboids. The fine burnt bricks of whkh it 
is built, have inscriptions on them ; and so admirable is tbe 
cement, which appears to be lime mortar, that though the 
layers are so close together that it is difficult to discern 
what substance is between them, it is nearly impossible to 



Ruins of Bahiflon 

t one of tbe bricks nliole. The olfier parts of the 
it of this hill are occupied hy iinmeii^ie fragnieala of 
ick work of no delerrninate figure, tumbled logelber, and 
mrerted inio solid Tilrified masses, as if Ihej hiid uiider- 
tne the action of ihe fiercest fire, or been blown up with 
ttipowder, the layers of the bricka being perfectly di: 
—a curious fact, and one for which i am incapable of ac- 
teunting. These, incredible aa it may seem, are actually 
■ ruins spoken of by Pere Eoianuel, who takes uo sort of 
^iceofthe prodigious mound on whi<;h Ihey are elcated- 
[(la almost needless to observe, that the whole of this 
konnd is itself a ruin, channelled by the weather, and strew- 
1 with the usual fragments, and with pieces of bkckslone, 
ndstone, and marble. In the easlern parts, layers of un- 
nt bricks are plainly to be seen, but no reeds were dia- 
Diblein any part : possibly the absence of them here, 
when they are so generally seen under similar circumstan- 
cea, may be an argument of the supedour anli<iuity of the 
ruin. In the north side may be seen traces of building ex- 
Ktl/ similar to the brick pile. At the footof themound a 
Itep may be traced, scarcely elevated above the plain, ex- 
ceeding in extent, by several feet each way, the true or 
■neasured base; and there isa quadrangular Enclosure round 
Ike whole, as at the >lujelib£, but much more perfect, and 
«C greater dimensions. At a trifling distance from the Bira, 
asd ptratlel with its easlern face, is a mound not inferiour 
(o the Easr in elevation, but much longer than it is broad. 
On the lop of it are two Eoubbes or oratories, one called 
Makam Ibrahim Khali], and said lobe Ihe place where Ibra- 
faim was thrown into the fire by order of Nemroud, who 
•orveyed the scene from the Bira ; the other which is In 
niine, Makam Sakel Zeman ; but to what part of Mehdy'a 
life it relates, I am ignorant. In Ihe oratories I searched in 
vaaa for the inscriptions mentioned by Niebuhr: near that 
oT Ibrahim Khatil is a small excavation into the mound, 
which merits no attention -, but the mound itself is curious 
from its position, and correspondence with others, as I shall 
ID the sequel have occasion to remark. 

Rouod the Birs are traces of ruins to a considerable ex- 
tent. To the north la the canal which supplies Mesjid Ali 
with water, which was dug at the expense of the Nuwaufa 
Shujahed Doulah, and called after his country Hindla. Wo 
Vol. U, No. 5. 2d 



J 



194 Memoir on the [Janoal-f, 

were informed that from the summit of the BirSi in a clear 
mornifig, the gilt dome of Mesjid Ali maj be seen. 

Tjie most extraordinary building within the city, was the 
tower, pyramid, or sepulchre of Belus, the base of which, 
Strabo says, was a square of a stadium each side, and it was 
a stadium in height. It has been geherally considered that 
Herodotus has given an extravagant account of its dimen- 
sions. He says that the first platform, or largest and lowest 
of the eight towers of which it was composed, was »wA» ««j 
TO /iwMc iMi TO K/^os, which has been rendered." a stadium in 
height and breadth ; which, supposing the seven other 
towers to have borne some proportion to it, may be clearly 
pronounced an absurdity : but f*''*^ also signifies length, 
space, and prolixity ; in this signification it combines better 
with K^s^C) as length and breadth is a more usual phrase than 
height and breadthy and the passage then would mean no 
more than that the base was the square of a stadium. 

An additional interest attaches itself to the sepulchre of 
Belus, from (he probability of its identity with the tower 
which the descendants of Noah, with Belus at their head, 
constructed in the plain of Shinaar, the completion of whkli 
was prevented in so remarkable a manner. I am strongly 
inclined to differ with the sense in which Oenesis ii. 4. is com- 
monly understood. I think too much importance has been 
attached to the words " may reach unto Heaven^** which 
are not in the original, whose words are D^Dttfi "WMTFj 
" and its top to the akies^^* by a metaphor common to all 
ages and languages, i, e. with a very elevated and conspi- 
cuous summit. This is certainly a more rational interpre- 
tation, than supposing a people in their senses, even at that 
early period, would undertake to scale heaven by means of 
a building of their own construction. 

A careful examiner will find as great a diflSculty in disco- 
vering the tower of Belus, as in identifying any other part 
of the ruins. Taking for granted the site of Babylon to be 
in the vicinity of Hellah, his choice will be divided be- 
tween two objects, the Mujelib^ and the Birs Nemrbud. I 
shall briefly notice the arguments in favour of each, with 
the diflSculties and objections that mar be advanced, first 
giving a comparative statement of their dimensions with 
those of the original tower. 



1816.} Ruins of Babylon, 195 

Euglish Feet. 
Total circumference, or sum of the four 

sides of the Birs^ 2286 

Ditto of the Mujelibe, 221 1 

Ditto of the tower of Belus, taking 500 

feet for the stadium, 2000 

Bj this it appears that the measurement both of the Birs 
and the Mujelib^ agrees as nearly as possible with that of 
the tower of Belus, considering our ignorance of the exact 

Eroportion of the stadium, and the enlargement which the 
ase must have undergone by the crumbling of the mate* 
rials. The variations in the form of the Mujelibe from a 
perfect square, are not more than the accidents of time will 
account for; and the reader will best judge from my de- 
scription, whether the summit and external appearance of 
this ruin corresponds in any way with the accounts of the 
tower. 

The only building which can dispute the palm with the 
Mujelib^ is the Birs Nemroud, previous to visiting which I 
had not the slightest idea of the possibility of its being the 
tower of Belus ; indeed its situation was a strong argument 
against such a supposition ; but the moment I had examined 
it I could not help exclaiming, '^ Had this been on the 
other side of the river, and nearer the great mass of ruins, 
no one could doubt of its being the remains of the tower." 

Instead of being disappointed at the diflScuIty of ascer- 
taining any part of the original plan of Babylon, from its pre- 
sent remains, we ought rather to be astonished at the gran- 
deur of that city, which has left such traces, when we con- 
sider that it was nearly a heap of ruins two thousand years 
ago; that immense cities have been built out of its materials, 
which still appear to be inexhaustible ; and that the capi- 
tal of the Abassides, which we know to have been^ one of 
the most extensive and magnificent cities of comparatively 
modem times, has left but a few confused vestiges which are 
scarcely elevated above the level of the desert, and 
which in a few years the most enquiring eye will be unable 
to discover. 



I9«, Orif^mei Poetry, [Janfwjf 

SONG. 

to the editor of the north-american rbyievf. ^ 
Sir, 

The following Song, fraught with national sentiments and 
feeling, was inspired by the welcome return of peace. We 
trust it possesses such intrinsick merit, that its spirit has 
not evaporated in the course of a few months. We hope 
it may be as grateful to your readers generally, as it has 
been to the circle of the author's friends. • By giving it a 
place in your Journal you will greatly oblige. 

Yours, &c. C. 

Lbt bymns of tbaiiksgiying to Heaven arise. 

For the Demons of war cease to mutter their thunder, 
The sword in its scabbard now harmlessly lies, 
No more doom*d to part ties of friendship asunder ; 
The captive, in vain. 
No more clanks his chain, 
But flies to his country and kindred again ; 
Then huzza ! let our banners flctat proudly unfurPdt 
ho ! the full orb of Peace now illumines the world. 

No more shall the parent lament for his child. 

The eye of the orphan shall brighten with pleasure, 
For friendship and love in our vallies have smil'd, 
And plenty luxuriant diffuses her treasure. 
Fair Commerce shall leap 
From oblivion's sleep. 
And spreading her pinions shall fly on the deep. 
Then huzza, &c. 
For, &c. 

While thus in thanksgiving our tongues we employ. 
Let us think of the heroes with heart-felt emotion, 
Who fr.II in defence of the rights we enjoy. 
And whose life-blood now stains the dark wave of the oce^. 
Columbia, thy pride. 
Was torn from thy side, 
When shrouded in glory they fearlessly died ; 
For ages the laurel shall flourish and bloom. 
As it clings to the cypress, that waves e'er their tomb. 



1816.] Original Pottty. IW 

Columbia, arise, swell the paean ^ain ! 

May the spirit of party take wing from thy borderit 
May discord subside, and our land shall remain, 
Undefac*d, unpolluted by hostile marauders ! 
Bound Liberty's tree 
United we'll be, 
And show to mankind we're resoly'd to be free. 
Then huzza ! let our banners Boat proudly unfurl'd, 
Lo ! the full orb of Peace now illumines the world. 



to the editor of the north-american journal. 
Sir, 

I enclose an exquisite little Poemi by Sadolet, en the 
Statue of Laocoon. It has been rarely published, and its 
insertion in your Journal may gratify that taste for the fine 
arts, which seems to be dawning among us. If you think 
that the translation accompanying it will give pleasure to 
those of your readers, who cannot enjoy the original^ it is 
at your service. 



JACOBI SADOLETI CARMEN DE 8TATUA LAOCOONTIB* 

GccE alto terrae e cumulo, ingentisque ruinas 
Visceribus, iterum reducem* longinqua reduxit 
Laocoonta dies : aulis regalibus olim 
itui stetit, atque tuos ornabat, Tite, penates. 
Bivinae simulachrum artis, nee docta yetustas 
Nobilius spectabat opus ; nunc celsa revisit 
Exemptum tenebris rediTiyae maenia Romas. 
Quid primum sunmiumve loquar ? misenimne parentem 
£t prolem geminam ? an sinuatos flezibus angues 
Terribili aspectu ? caudasque irasque draconum, 
Vulneraque, et veros, saxo moriente, dolores ? 
Horret ad haec animus, mutaque ab imagine pulsat 
Pectora, non parvo pietas commixta tremori. 
Prolixum bini spiris glomerantur in orbem 
Ardentes colubri, et sinuosis orbibus errant, 
Temaque multiplici constringunt corpora uexxu 



t»V. 



* rvkuem : better perhftps in hutm* 



IM OrignM Poefay. [if«CM7i 

Vix oculi nflbrre Taleiit eradele tMiido 
Ezitinm, oarasque feixNi .* mint alter, et ipnm 
LaocooDta petit, totainqoe infraque fapraqae 
Implicat, et rabido tandem ferit ilia mom. 
Connexam refogit corpiu, tcMt|aeBtia lese 
Membra, latiisque retro sinuatam a Tolnere eemas. 
Ille dolore acri, et laaiata impubms acerbo, 
Dat gemitum ingentem, cmdosqne evellere dentei 
Coonizus, lasvam impatieng ad terga cbeljdri 
Objicit : intendunt nervi, coUectaque ab omni 
Corpore vis frustra summis cooatibus instat. 
Ferre nequit rabiem, et de mlnere murmur anhelum e«t. 
At Serpens lapsu crebro redeunte subintrat 
LubriciiK, intortoque ligat genua infima nodo* 
Abdstunt surae, Rpurisque prementibat arctnm 
' Cms tumet, obsepto tnrgeot Titalia palm, 
Liventesque atro distenduut sanguine Tenas. 
Nee minus in natos eadem yis eflfera saerit 
Implexuque angit rapido, miserandaque membra 
IMlacerat : Jamque alterius depasta cruentum 
Pectus, suprema genitorem Toce cientis, 
Circumjectu orbis, validoque Tolumine fnlcit. 
Alter adhuc nullo violatus corpore morsu, 
Dum parat adducta candam divellere planta 
Horret ad itepectum miseri patris, baeret in illo» 
Et jamjam ingentes fletus, lacbry masque cadentes 
Anceps in dubio retinet timer. Ergo perennl. 
Qui tantam statuistis opus, jam laude nitentes. 
Artifices magni (quamquam et melioribus actis 
QnsM'itur seternum nomen, multoque licebat 
Clarius ingenium venturae tradere famae) 
Attamen, ad laudem qusecumque oblata facultas 
Egregium banc rapere, et summa ad vestigia niti. ' 
Vos rigidum lapidem yivis animare figuris 
Eximii, et viyos spiranti in marmore sensus 
Inserere ; aspicimus motumque iramque doloremque 
Et pene audimus gemitus : vos eztulit olim 
* Claura Rhodes, restrsB jacuerunt artis honores 

* Pliny, in lib. 36. Sect. 4, obaenrefi, that when several artists aniteto fomsst* I 
gle statue, the trouble of repeating all their names prevents the celebrity of flfi Ijttiir 
u^addf, *^ Sicut in Lapcoonte, qui «it In Titi imj^toris dooiOi opus quS0^ h^ 



(U6.] Or^grtiial Fodrjf. fl99 

Tempore ab immensot-qaoe nmam in luce teeanda 
Roma videt, eelebratqne frequens : operisque Teitaiti 
Gratia parta recens. Quanto {vsestaatiiu ei*go est 
Ingenio, aat quoyis eztendere &ta labore, 
Quam fastus et oped et inanem extendere liuniiii* 

TRANSLATIOir* 

tio, rising from the bosom of the tomb. 
Dragged from the ruins of devoted Rome, 
Laocoiin liyes, who once adom'd the hearth, 
Whence the good Titus mlM and bles8*d,the earth. 
Model of Art — ^the choicest genius gare 
To swell Rome's glorj, or to deck her grave. 
What tongue the wonders of the work can tell. 
The serpents, yast, yohiminous and fell, 
Their monstrous size, their giant strei^th displaj. 
Their rage, their triumph, as they crush their prej, 
The fathers' snfiferings, the ohildrens' criet , 
And all the dying marble's agonies ? 
Shock'd bj the sight, in yain we chide the tear, 
Tet while we melt in pity, start for fear. 
Scarce can our ejOs the cruel scene sustain. 
Support their strugglf^s, or endure their pain. 
Look ! how these ministers of ?nrath diyine 
In iron volumes round their victims twine, 
See this in fury to the father glide. 
Curl round his arms, and rend his bleediii^ side. 
Observe his body bending f^om the foe. 
Writhing and shrinking to avoid the blow. 
That piteous look to heaven despairii^ thrown, 
And the keen anguish of that harrowing groan. 
Hasting to tear the reeking fangs away. 
He grasps the monster's throat with frantid[ >way, 
Their utmost force his nerves convulsive strain. 
Struggling with all their strength — ^bnt all in vain. 

The other Serpent in relentless folds. 
Fixed to the spot, the victim prophet holds ;^ 



et Btatoaris artis prseponendum. Ex ano lapidc earn et Uberoi, dnea*. 
mque mirabiles nexus de consilii sententia fimre sumini artifices JgmmUr cC 
^dorai et Athenodonis, Bhofffi.** 



MO Original Padrjf. [iwamuj 

No hope of iight ; the sinewj body winds 

AboatoMh knee, and ti^t and tigtUw biAdi 

Iti stubborn kaotii ; tlie obstmcted pulse beats high. 

Distends the yeins, and swells the strictnred thigh. 

See the same fhe the yowiger boj ioTesty 

Onish his fair frame, and feed upon his breast. 

The folds immense his helpless fima sustain. 

As fainting in excruciating pain. 

He feebly lifts a suppticating eje. 

And calls his father, with the last sad sigh* 

Here, to the elder the long train extends. 
And its last cirele round his ankle bends ; 
Btoopii^, as if to force the curi awaj. 
He Tiews the strife in motionless dismay ; 
What anguish on eadi feature Is hnpress'd, 
* How his fond eyes upon his fother rest. 
Hang on hU agony, In breathless fear, 
While doubt and horrour check the bursting tear. 

Hail Artists, hail !--althongh a nobler name 
Might be transmitted on the rolls of fome. 
Gained by the labours of the lofty mind 
To bless, improTe, or liberate maidLind ; 
Not worthless still the praise to you allowed, o 
Well to have u8*d the talent heayen bestowed. 
By the nice touch of the creative steel. 
To make the marble breathe, and act, and feel. 
We see them die, and burstii^ from the stone 
We almost hear the agonizing groan. 
Tour birth illustrious Rhodes shall love to boast : 
Though to the gaze of admiration lost. 
The matchless monument for ages lay 
Hid in the ruins from the light of day, 
Dragg'd forth at length* again your glory lives. 
And the proud mistress of the world survives. 
How nobler far, than wealth, and pomp, and power. 
The frequent effort of the toilsome hour. 
By genius or by skill, a name to save 
Defying fate, triumphant o*er the grafo. 



\ 



THE NORTH-AMERICAN REVIEW. 



krittian GoUlob Htyne. — Biogrf^phisck dargestellt von. 
Am. Herm, had. Heeren. Goltingejt, bey Johann Fre- 
derick Rower. 1313 i$. d-22, i'lmo. 
'Ac Lift of Christian GoUlob Htyne, by a. h. l. Heeren, 
Ooltiiigm. 1^13. pp. 522, l-lmo. 

. Among the German liferati of (he 18lh cenlury, Heyne 
fa&y perhap:i be allowed tu hiive alood first. Wiilioui hav- 
ing pusnessed a geniua of the first ortler, his lasle was so 
[ood, his juclgmeni so correct, ajid his learning ao great, aa 
p make his critic hI worlisat once a safe, pieasaiil, and com* 
elenl guide into aacient lileralure — It is well observed ity 
le aulhor of Ihe work before us, IhnI he was the first in 
ieTin&ny, perhaps ihe first in Europe, who presented the 
'orld with an edition of a classick conceived in a true lasle. 
l^ilhont having himself gone as far in ibis respect as is to 
S wished, he seems to have been the first to feel, that the 
scumujalion of parallel passages fjom a thousand au- 
lors, Ihe ledioiis discussion of idle questions, and ihe un- 
yofitable solution uf small doubts, does not constitute Ihe 
•vince of une who would illnslrale an Ancient writer. 
ie knew better than his predecessors, how lo distinguish be- 
dieen displaying knowledge himself, and aiding Ihe reader 
to acquire it ; and in most of his editions has left laudiible 
peciinensof hi% acquaintance with that last perfection, Ihe 
Art 10 blol.' Though it is as an editor ot Ihe Ctassicks, 
|hat Heyne is principally known in foreign lands, bis re- 
teiirches into history and aniiqulltes were scarcely less ex- 
tensive, and in the latier of these deparliuenlsj be stands 
^rhapa second to Winkelinan atone. 
a The work before us conlain« a survey of bis life and 
Bbaracler, bolh in bis publick and private capacily, written 
Jby his pupil and afterwards bis colleague, as Professor of 
'4)ie University at Gottiugen. It presents us with a very full 
raK4:onnt of bis labours aa Professor and Librarian Ihere. 
^Vhile the connexion of (he Biographer wilh Ihe subject 
«tf his narrative, as a »un-in-!aw, gave him access lo every 
Boucce of private information, and attbrded hiin opportuni- 
Vol. II. pio. 3. -Jli 



I 
I 

I 
1 



9AS Lif€ of HeyjM. [Januarf^ 

ties, of which he hat dulj availed himself, to give the read^ 
er what — ^is often so mooh desired in the account of publick 
men — an inaight into his private, personal, and domestkk. 
life. It may easily be imagined that the work must be 
highly interesting, especially as it is written in a simple and 
natural style, and by an Author reputed, for his other his- 
torical works, among the first (rf the German writers. — ^The 
foreigner will perhaps think that a little more brevity might 
have been studied, without loss of interest, but will be wil- 
ling to apply to this defect the apology for the work itself 
contained in the beautiful words of the motto * iAhtrhic^kih 
' nort 9ottri nui destinatms^profeasunu pidatis aut Umd' 
' atu8 erit out excuaahu.* — 

Of the earliest years of his life, Heyne himself left a 
written account ; this is inserted entire by Mr. Heeven, and 
might almost serve for a manual of encouragement to those, 
who are destined, in like manner, to force their way to emi-- 
vence, against the pressure of external circumstances. 
We are sure the following extracts must please the rear 
der. They begin the little account written by Heyne 
himself. — * My good father, George Heyne, was born in the 

* principality of Glogau, in Silesia, at a little place called 

* Gravenschutz. His youth was cast upon the times,' when 

* the persecutions of the Protestants by the Catholicks com* 
^ menced ; and his family, who had lived in an humble, but 
' independent condition, found their . peace destroyed by 
' this spirit of Proselytism. Some went over to the Romish 
^ Church : but my father left his home, and endeavoured te 
^ support himself by the labour of his hands in Saxony. 
^ ** What doth it profit a man that he gain the whole world, 
^ and losehid own Soul"— was the reflection, which the expt- 

< rience of his youth had stamped the deepest upon his mind* 
' But no fortunate occurrence happened to aid his efforts, wui 

* a series of disasters kept him below the measure of medi- 

* ocrity. His age was thus surrendered as a prey to po- 
^ verty , and her handmaids dejection and despair. — I wsi 

* born and brought up in the greatest poverty. Want was 

< my earliest playmate, and my first impressions were made 

* by the tears of my Mother, when she had no bread for her 
*. children. How often have I seen her on Saturday, with 

< swollen eyes, and wringing her hands, when she returned 
^ without having found a purchase for the fruits of her hui- 

* band's daily and almost nightly labour, through the week 



Life of Heyht, 



sn 



I* Bomeliues a new atleinpt would be made through my lir- 
ttter or myself, and we muHt take (be same goods to the 
Ctrailer, (o see if we could sell tlieoi. There is in (bese 
Sparta a sort of trader, so called, who buys the linen of ibe 
fl.poor manufaclurei'3, at the lowest price, that they may 
>«ell it again al the highest. How often have I seen one 
f of these little tyrants, with the haughtiness of a Satrap, re- 
the goods offered him, or insist upon abating a 
frpenny of the honest price. Want would force the poor 
ft iDanufactdier to sell the sweat of his brow, a penny or 
f'lwo less, and to make up the deficiency by starving. It 

* was sights like these, that first kindled my sensibility, an<I 
instead of being dazzled by the wealth of those, who sub- 
%aiated upon morsels wrested from hundreds of the poor, t 
^regarded them only with indignation. The first time I 
■kfaeard in school of slaying a tyrant, I felt (he most lively 
^wiah lo be a Brutus rayseif, to those oppressors of the 
Ibpoafi who had so often left those whom 1 loved, to suffer 

>by want. — My good parents did what they could, and 
Sallowed me lo attend a school for children in the suburbs. 
i had the credit of understanding quick, and of a desire to 
Nearo. — As early asmy tenth j/ear, lunderlookto ingfrtict 
""ihse of my neighbour's children, a girl, in reoding and 
. »tUing,for lite sake of earning enough to pay my own 
hachooUng! Aa reading and writing were the extent to 
which 1 could go in school, I began to think of a private 
liOKr for Latin. But a Guter Groscben* a week was de- 
Ibanded for this: and that my parents could not afTord. 
b^faie grief I bore a long time. I had a Godfather, a ba- 
■ in good circumstances, my mother's half brother. I 
waa sent to him one Saturday, to fetch bread. I entered 
irith my eyes wet, into the house, and found ray God- 
Nfotber there. He asked me why I had been weeping, 

* and I tried to answer ; but burst into a flood of tears, and 
'could scarce explain the cause of my trouble. My mag- 
' naiumoiis Godfather promised to supply the weekly Gros- 
'cben; only upon the condition, that I should repeal to him 
' every 3unday thepassage in the Gospels, which had been 
' the week's task. This had the good efTecl, that it improved 
'my memory, and brought me to deliver myself with self- 
* possession. Wild with joy, I ran away with my bread; 

I * TlM twMty-fbarth part of the Rietbs-Tiialer— sboat three Cenb- 



1 



SM- Iit(e of Hegne. [Januarjrf 



' throwing it np in the ur as I wenU ud leaping up myaelfy 

* barefooted^ as 1 was, for jojr. But my bread happened tofall 
' into the gutter, and this brought me in some measure to 

* my senses. My mother rejoiced at the good news, but 

* my father was less satisfied. At this school I passed two 

* years, till my master discovered, what I had sometime be- 
' fore, that I could learn no more of him." — p. 6 — 10. 

The account of his removal to a higher school, and of 
various mortifications and difficulties which attended him 
there, is given in the same style- — ^Without books, or the 
means of purchasing them, he was obliged daily to borrow 
those of his school-fellows, and transcribe the task before 
he could study it : His patron, another Godfather, who had 
consented to pay his quarter bills at the school, instead of 
extending his generosity to the supply of books, thought fit 
to exercise it in the way of private instruciion himself, in 
the making of Latin verses. ' At every festival, says 

* Heyne, and particularly St. Sebastian's day, for whom he 
' was named, I was called upon for an occasional ode, not of 
' twenty lines ; but a hundred at least, and in all sorts of 

* metres ; and I was obliged to labour upon subjects of 

* every sort, such as man never thought of putting into 

* verse.'-— The instruction, which he received in school* 
was no better, and he says he should have sunk into total 
stupidity, if he had not been aroused by an anagram. 

* We had our school examinations, at which the Superin- 
^ tendant was present. This man, Dr. Theodore Kmger, a 
^ learned Theologian for his day, interrupted the rector, ashe 
' was pursuing the examination, with the question ^* which of 

* the boys can tell the anagram of Austria (avstria.") The 

* idea was suggested by the first Silesian war, [in which the 

* Saxons were opposed to the AustriansJ having just broken 
' out, and a good anas^ram had been made upon it in some 
^ of the magazines. — No body knew what an anagram was, 
' the rector himself was at a non-plus. As no one answe^ 
<'ed, the rector began with a long description of an anagram, 

* when I jumped up and cried out Vastari [to be wasted.] 
< This was different from the one which had been gifea 
' in the magazines, which encreased the Superintendani's 
' surprise, at receiving his answer from a little boy in the 
^ second form. He loaded me with praise, though he 

* brought all my schoolfellows about my ears, by abusing 
^ them for being outdone by im Injimus.*^ — ^p. 15<-~18« 



Lift of Hej/nt. ton 

if this gchool, He^ne paseeit seven years, ami at the 
'» of nineteen left home, without books, and with two 
lers [about a dollar] in his pocket, fur the university at 
ipsick. His godfather had prorulsed lo assist blrn wifb 
iUniary supplies -, but they were so small and irregulai, 

!*o leave him often at the mercy of cham^e, for his daily 
lad. Without the means of paying the fees for the pri- 
e lectures, he was able to avail himself of but few of ihe 
rary means of the uniTcrsily, and lived without method, 
comfort; in want, and despair. — About the end of the 

*t year, he made an acquaintance with one of Ihe profes- 
b, who used to encourage his visits, and lend him books, 
hia advice, he commeuced the reading the Classick^ in 
!er, as Scaliger did, and began with Herodotus. He pur-- 
[d it, as he was able from time to time to borrow the 
iks, and with such profligacy of application, as lo sleep 
' two nights in the week. The consequence was a 
fcr, from which he recovered with difficulty. He ai- 
ded at this time some of Ihe lectures of Ernesti, towhoin, 
b then and afterwards, he was indebted for valuable ser- 
es. 

Upon the death of Lacosle, a preacher of the Reformed 
Bnch Church, at Leipsick, Heyne expressed his respect 
the memory of his friend, in a Latin elegy. The 
urch hearing of if, and cherishing also the strongest at- 
ihment to the memory of their deceased pastor, reqnest- 
flf Heyne the copy of his elegy, and published it, in a 
lendld edition. This work fell into the hands of Count 
uhl, the prime minister of the Elector of Saxony, and 
iresented as a man fond of every thing of pomp and show. 
I admiration of the typographical merit of the ele-^y ex- 
ided itself to the composition ; and with the highest 
Use of the author, he expressed the wish to have him in 
fservice. This was communicated to Heyne, and his 
tune thoug.ht to be made. By Ihe advice of all his 
fends, he hastened to Dresden, was introduced to count 
ahl, was graciously receivt^d, and dismissed with 
imises — that were never fulfilled. — Thus he was left 
liout friends, without money, and without credit, lo sup- 
7t himself in Dresden. ' His want was now extreme, 
n Ihe pod, which he had cooked as he could collect 
were often his only subsistence. He had no dwel- 
£ place. A candidate Sooulag, with whom he was ac- 



8M £(/« of Hcype. [Jwwry, 



quaioted, had compassioo on hiin»Qnd took him into hit chaoh 
ber. But he wa4 without a bed. Nothing waa left hinirbut 
to sleep on the floor with books for hit pillows.* After 
much solicitation, he procuriMi the- place of copyist in the 
Elector's librarj, with a salary of one hundred thalera [about 
seventy-five dollars] a year. Here his literary labours be* 
gan, and were resorted to as a means of support. His first 
work was a translation of a French Romance, lie Soldat Pa^ 
venu, for which he received twenty thalers.— His next at- 
tempt was more of an earnest of the character of hia future 
labours, a translation of Charito^s Chairea and Callirhoe — 
a few years before edited for the first time by DorviUe. 
Both these works were published without hit name. Is 
1755 appeared his first edition of TibuUusi whichi 
however eclipsed by his subsequent labours upon thia, his 
favourite poet, was received with approbation by the 
learned world. His edition of Epictetus — suggested by a 
MS. of that author in the electoral library, which ho ccir 
lated for the occasion, followed in a year, which, saya hii 
biographer, besides the proofs it gave of his proficiency ia 
CI reek, rendered him a far greater service, in the support hi 
derived from its Stoick philosophy, in the triala to whkk 
be was soon exposed. * 

*• About this time Heyne made an acquaintance in the 
•electoral library, the importance of whiph he did not theo 
know« There came often to the library, a man entirely 
unknown, whose visits were not particularly acceptable to 
\h% librarians, as he gave them so much to do. He seemed 
to be insatiable in reading, and the books he asked for 
were so many, that he was scarcely received with kindness. 
It was John Winkelman. Thinking already of his journey 
to Italy, he was preparing himself for it. Thus the two 
men became acquamted with each other, who, both in 
poverty and want, little imagined that in a few years they 
were to be the instructers of polite Europe, the pride asA 
4>rnament of thcirnation.* 

The troubles of the seven years war soon after commenc- 
ed. As far as they are connected with his own history, they 
are related in an account given by Heyne himself of kk 
first marriage, and which is inserted entire by Mr.fHeerea- 
We must confine ourselves to a single extract — ^ On the 
' 18th of July began the bombardment of Dresden by tks 
' Pruasjajoia. Several nights I passed in company witk 



1816.} lAft of Heyne. 207 

^others in m ceUar, and the days in my apartment ; sa Aat I 
' heard the shot from the battery, as it passed through the 

* streets, whizzing by my windows. Such an indifference to 
' life possessed me, that on the last day, having gone early 
'in the morning to bed, I slept quietly till noon, without 

* being disturbed by the fearful explosion of bombs and 

* hand-grenades. When I awoke, I hurried on my clothes,r 

* and running down the stairs, found the house deserted. I 

'returned to my chamber, to consider what I should do, at 

'least where I should send my trunk; when a bomb fell with 

'alarming noise into the garden of the house. It did not 

' burst, but all about it was shattered with the concussion.. 

' Thinking, that where one bomb had fell, others might 

' follow, I descended again the stairs — ^found the door lock- 

' ed — ^ran here and there about the house — till I made my 

'escape at last, by one of the windows into the street. 

' Deserted as the lane was, in which I had lived, the prin- 

' cipal streets were thronged with fugitives. With balls^ 

' striking roiittd, I ran through the Castle street, over the 

' Elbe bridge, to the new city which the Prussians had 

' been forced to evacuate. Glad to lay my head upon a 

' stone in a house, I passed one part of the night there : m 

'the other part I witnessed the dreadful spectacle of flying 

' bombs and a burning city. At break of day, a gate was 

' opened by the Austrian guard to allow the fugitives to 

' escape. The overbearing officer, who commanded this 

' guard, saluted us as Lutheran dogs, and gave each as he 

'passed a blow. At length I escaped; but whither? 

'began to occupy my mind. In the hurry, in which I had 

'left Dresden, I had taken nothing; not even a guter 

' groschen. — Only on the way, I saw the cellar open, where 

'I had been accustomed to spend the night, and a fur coat 

'there. In this I wrapped myself, and travelled from the 

' new city in a burning day, over the sand and heath, and 

'took the way to Ansdorf, where Therese (afterwards his^ 

' wife) was with her friend, who was making a visit to her 

'mother-in-law. Beneath a blazing sun, and through a 

'country desolate and deserted, I travelled twenty miles ta 

' JKschofswerda, where I slept in a teamsters' tavern. At 

'midnight arrived a postillion with return horses, and I 

' begged him to let me mount one. Thus I rode till the 

' way parted ; and all day long heard the shots from poor 

' Dresden echoed along the mountains. By the first occa«t 



208 Lift of Htyne. [JaBuarji 

aioDy I returned to Dresden. There was a possibiUtj 
that my house had escaped. With a heavy heart I look- 
ed onward to the city — ^ran to the spot where my dwel- 
ling stood, and found — a heap of ashes. Next to my 
dwelling, 1 was concerned for the library. It was empty. 
One accident after another had happened to it. At the 
beginning of the war the most valuable works, the ancient 
impressions, with the noble collection of copperplates, were 
deposited in a vault ; a part oi the rest was sent forward to 
Hamburg as the pledge of a loan. Some boxes of these 
were lost in the Elbe. Some were opened at the Prussian 
eustom houses, and the books dispersed. Through the 
arch where the books were deposited, passed certain con- 
duits, to the water works. When Dresden was attacked 
they aimed at this edifice, to destroy the pavilion and 
garden. The conduits were hereby injured, and when 
the books, after a long time, came to be again examined, 
they were found to be ruined by dampness. Finally a 
small portion of books had been carried to -a massy edi- 
fice on the [blank in the original.] The first bomb struck 
this building, and the whole was consumed. After nay 
return to Dresden a very unpleasant circumstance occur- 
red. My colleague in the library, receiving a reproof for 
leaving Dresden before the siege, knew no other way to 
exculpate himself, than to throw the blame of burning 
the library upon ipe; and I stood for some time in dan- 
ger of a legal prosecution.' p. 63. This is the melan- 
choly history of a library of 70,000 volumes. 

Disastrous as the war had been in a publick view, it was 
the present ruin of Heyne's private prospects. All bis 
property and papers, with all the moveables of the person to 
whom he was shortly after married, were lost in the confla- 
gration of his house. The loss of the Electoral library was 
the loss of his occupation, and he lived in extreme indigence 
with his wife, partly upon the favour of his friends, and upon 
what literary employment he could find in Dresden. 

In ]76r, died Gesner, professor of Eloquence and libra- 
rian at Gottingen. As the place was considered one of 
great importance, the regency at Hanover, and Munchauseoy 
in particular, the prime minister, employed remarkable cir- 
cumspection in filling it. Applying to Ernesti as the most 
competent person to nominate a successor, they were told 
that there was none in Germany, and that they must bare 



1816.] Life of Heyne. 209 

recourse to Rhunken at Leyden, or Saxe at Utrecht. 
Rhunken was written to, but refused to leave his adopted 
country. His letter, in reply, is a remarkable instance of 
decision and foresight. * Why do you seek out of Ger- 

* many, for what Germany itself affords ? Why do you 

* not appoint, as successor to Gesner, Christian Gottlob 

* Hey ne, this pupil of Ernesti, this man of excellent genius, 

* who has proved his acquaintance with Roman literature, 

* in his Tibullus ; with Grecian in his Epictetus ? He is, in 

* '«y opinion, and in that of Hemsterhusius '^* «'«*''«'> the only 

* man who can make Gesner's place good. In this man, 

* believe me, there is a store of genius and learning, 

* that will shortly be the admiration of polite Europe.* p. 74. 
The place, with a salary of 800 Thalers, was accordingly 
bestowed on Heyne. 

It will be readily conceived, that though Heyne had now 
reached the most regularly active part of his life, the season 
of what may be called his adventures was now over. His 
subsequent history is the record of his official duties as pro- 
fessor of eloquence, as librarian, as secretary of the Royal 
Society of Gottingen, and as editor of the Literary Journal 
under its superintendance : to say nothing of several other 
calls of greatebor less importance upon his time and atten- 
tion. The fidelity with which he discharged the duties of 
such an extent and variety, gives one a high idea of his acti- 
vity and punctuality ; while on surveying the extent of 
his studies, as displayed in his very numerous and profotind- 
ly learned publications, we are at a loss to imagine how he 
Gould have spared any time from them. The method and 
regularity, with which he divided and arranged his avoca- 
tions, the strict conscientiousness with which he felt their 
obligation, and the severe punctuality with which he at- 
tended to them all, are the secrets of his doing so much and 
80 well. The following picture of the private economy of 
his study, we extract for the amusement of the reader. 

* The number and variety of his occupations required a 

* large space, and for a study Heyne made use of theprinci- 

* pa! room in his house, with three windows fronting upoi^ 

* the street, and one^ (in summer his favourite place) upon 

* the garden. On one side stood two sets of shelves, with 
' the books which he used in his daily studies : the rest 
' were in a cabinet on the same side of the room. *He had 
' in his study from ten to twelve different tables. His lite- 

Vol. II. No. 5. 27 



9H> Life of Htynt. [Januarjy 

' rarj labours weredivided araong fheae, so that one or two 

* tables were appropriated to each department. In another 
' place, he had a little desk, at which he often stood, espe- 
' ciallj to write his letters. In two other cabinets, stood from 

* thirty to forty paste-board boxes, about two inches deep, 
' and large enough to receive a folio sheet. Each of these 
' was labelled ; and in these, according to the labels, were 
' kept all his papers upon current affairs ; letters, according 
' to their contents, reviews, &c. On the third side of his 

* room, between the windows, stood two presses, one 
' devoted to his private affairs, and the other to the' 
' publick accounts and books, which it was his duty to 

* Keep. Near the window, by the garden, stood his bed, 
' for he always slept in his study : a little press by the stove 
' contained his daily apparel, and on the other side an arm 
^ chair, his place of rest when fatigued with labour, where 
' he also slept a little after dinner. At five o'clock in (he 
' morning he rose : this was his practice to the day of his 
^ death, and in his younger years he did it earlier. Dress- 
' ing himself in a study coat, and after taking a cup of 
^ coffee, he sat down to his writing table : and was general- 
' ly employed in reviews for the Literary Journal till nine. 
' At nine in the winter, he took his breakfast in his study, 
' meat of some kind, and a glass of wine. Dressing himself 
' then, he remained in full dress the rest of the day. But 

* in summer he had his first lecture at eight o'clock ; these 

* were upon Archaeology- The next two hours were devo- 
^ ted to business, in particular to the affairs of the library. 
' At eleven he attended in the philological seminary^ and 

* remained till twelve. Soon after twelve he took W^ 

' ner, and then his family saw him for the first time in the 
' day. After dinner he slept in his arm chair for half an 
' hour, not lons^er, as he was obliged to prepare for his lec- 
^ ture at two o'clock. From three to six he devoted bii 

* time principally to correspondence ; though while he read 
' bis private lectures on the Greek poets, his usual hour for 

* these was from five to six. There were seasons in which 

* he spent four hours a day in lecturing. About six o'clock, 
' toward the latter part of his life, he mei his family again, 

* for a quarter of an hour at tea. Till eight o'clock he was 
' in his study, and shortly after eight he took his supper, and 
' sat, especially if he had a friend, half an hour at table. 
' After supper he was at his studies till half past ten, wbea 



Life of Heynt. 

refired lorest. When, bowever, he had muck to do, 
be Bat U(er, and his lighl was seen when all else tvas wrap- 
ped in slumber. Me was acceaitihie from morning to 
nUht loall who wished lo speak lo bjm :— what, however, 
was moat oppresi^ive luhjru was lo have his lime needless- 
ly tiiKen lip. His friends and acquain1anc.es knew this, 
and seldom came to see him, ejicepl upon occasion of bu- 
I, and Ihen for no longer than was neteasary." p. 
It is mentioned elsewhere, that be was parliculsrly 
lud of roses, and in the season of Iheni, would always have 
»me standing in water upon hia table. 

Some of (he grealesl services of Heyne to the Univer- 
ty, were those which he rendered as librarian. Shortly 
fler bis appointment lo Gottingen, he succeeded Michae- 
■ as first librarian, and for the rest of his life eserled him- 
plf in every way lo increase il, and facililale its use. He 
id it at fifly thousand volumes, and left it at two hundred 
liousand, and the MS. Alphabetical Catalogue, in one hun- 
jed folio volumes, was undertaken at his instance, and coin- 
leled in len years under his superinlendance. A pleasant 
pecdote is related, in reference lo Ihe library, in a lillle 
lurnal of a lour made by Mr. and Mrs. Heyne in the 
war 17lt8, written by (he latter, and inserled by Mr. Hee- 
m in his work. It was before ihelibrary had reached the 
ze at which he leff it. At dinner, at Cololburn, a liltle 
iy in Switzerland, ' Heyne had, at his right hand, a young 
Benedictine from Constance, the librarian of his munas- 
lery. He had, I know not how, discovered iha) he had a 
',Colleague fur his neighbour, and the conversation naturally 
turned upon !heir respective Iil»rarie3, the number of vo- 
lumes, &<:. The good monk seemed qiiile convinced, 
(hat no collection could surpass (hat, of which he had the 
care. Heyne lei him speak on and gel animated, till to 
Ibe question how many volumes he had, he answered, 
with a very well contented air, ten thousand. He asked, 
in his luni, liow many volumes Ihere were in (he Gottingen 

ibrary, and Heyne modestly replied, one hundred and 
thirty thousand. It was loo much for the good Benedic- 
tine. So shacked was he at the answer, which he took 
for mere rhodomontade, thai be threw down his knife and 
fork, and left the (able." p. 255. 

Our limits Ho not admit of our abstracting from this very 
enterteiuini; volume a more minute account of the labours of 



I 



212 Life of Heyne. [January, 

Hejne, as a pnblick teacher of ancient liferatare, or in his 
other capacities of Secretary to the Royal Society, to 
which he presented yearly at least one memoir, and Editor 
of the Literary Journal, in which he wrote about eight thou- 
sand articles. Of his labours^as a critick, our readers are 
able to form Iheir own opinion. Of his Tibullus and Vir- 
gil, his Pindar and his Homer, who does not know the 
fame ? and who that has read them does not know their me- 
rit ? Tibullus was his favourite among the Latin poefs, 
and he seems to have laboured, eon amore^ upon the three 
successive editions of his works which he published. He 
also communicaled what further occurred lo him, after the 
last edition, to Mr. since Professor \\ underlich,of Gottingen, 
who pnblished a new edition. The Tibullus of Heyne has 
been called the best edited of the Latin Classicks. 

* Et qui, says Villers, oserait encore toucher a Virgilc, 
apr^s la derniire Edition en 4 vol. qu' a donn^e du sien, a 
Leipsiclc I'illustre Mr. Heyne, et ou ce grand critique a 
retouch^ pour la derni^re Ibis son ouvrage V No one will 
feel dissatisfied with the question, who has availed himself of 
the ample collection of every thing necessary to the illus- 
tration of Virgil, which this edition contains, clothed as it 
is in an eloquent and beautiful latinity, and disposed with 
admirable discretion and taste. 

The edition of Pindar was occasioned by the following 
circumstance. Being requested by some of the students 
to read a private course to them upon this difficult author, 
it was found that the want of manuals would be the first 
difficulty. He accordingly undertook the task of publish- 
ing an edition, of which the Latin version was prepared by 
Koppe, a young man formed in his school, and afterwards 
connected with his family. This edition appeared in 1773; 
and a volume of additamenta followed in 1791, containing 
a further selection of various readings. In 1798, however, 
he presented the world with his second edition, containing 
what may be called a complete Pindarick apparatus. Ao 
Epistle of Herman, upon the metres of Pindar is given in 
the last volume, and tne excellent indices were contributed 
by Fiorillo, now professor in the philosophical faculty at 
Gottingen. If the preference be given in some respecta 
lo the subsequent edition of Boekh, that of Heyne will 
ever deserve the praise of having been the first, to make 
Pindar accessible to the generality of scholars. 



1816.] Life of Heym. 213 

If the opiDion of criticks is as yet undecided, upoD all 
the questions, connected with Hejne's edition of Homer, 
there is still a praise, and that of (he highest kind, which 
will not be withholden. While the current notes, beneath 
the text, reduce Homer to the level of every one who is 
willing to read him, the collections in the subsequent vol- 
umes present the student, with all the materials, for a mi- 
nute familiarity with all that concerns the illustration of the 
Iliad, in its present state. That these collections are too 
minute and laborious, and border too much upon the unre- 
lenting erudition of the school, which Heyne elsewhere 
did so much to supersede, is, perhaps, the only objection 
that will be made to them. Opinions are ytt divided upon 
the value of the digamma, which is applied throughout in the 
margin ; but, standing as it does there, it is no disturbance 
of the ordinary text, and at worst can be regarded only as a 
superfluity— of the controversy, with respect to the au- 
thenticity of Homer, not much has been heard beyond the 
limits of the European continent. In 1795, Frederic Au- 
gustus Wolf, for a short time a pupil of Heyne at Got tin- 
gen, then professor at Jena, and now at Berlin, published 
an edition of Homer, containing a revision of the text^ in 
which he availed himself of Yilloison's neat edition of the 
Venetian MS. with Scholia, but particularly accompanied 
with prolegomena, in which he called in question the au- 
thenticity of the poems, and maintained, that instead of 
having been written at the period usually assigned, and by 
•Homer, or by any other single person, they were gradu- 
ally formed, by successive collections, and recensions of 
separate poems, handed down by tradition, and first com- 
mitted to writing, in the age of Solon. The first volume 
of (he Prolegomena, containing chiefly the external evi- 
dence, is all that has yet appeared. — This edition of Ho- 
mer, and the prolegomena in particular, was reviewed by 
Heyne in the Gottingen Literary Journal, and in a manner 
perhaps it will be thought not quite worthy either of the 
subject, the author, or the reviewer. The review was 
short, cursory, and superficial ; and it spoke civilly of 
the merits of the edition, as an application of Yilloison's 
edition to the criticism of the text. So far from entering at 
all into the merits of the great question, started in the pro- 
legomena, Heyne remarks, en passant^ that the author ap- 
pears to regard the suggestion, that Homer was not the. 



214 Life of Htynu [Januarj, 

author of the poems as thej stand, as original ; but that 
he himself had always held this opinion. He complains 
also of Mr. Wolfy for not having cooiuiunicated his design 
of publishing an edition, and intimates a sort of interference 
with his own. Not long after be read to the Rojal Societj 
at Oottingen, a memoir d<> antiqi.& Homeri iectione in* 
daganda, dijudicanda et restituenda, of which he gare an 
account in the Literarj Journal, and in which be ad- 
vances quite the same system as Wolf, with the addilion 
that he had always held it. As W olf had attended his 
lectures upon Homer at Gottingen, he considered the im- 
plication to be unavoidable, that he had borrowed his sys- 
tem, or the suggestion of it, from Heyne, and in a series 
of five letters, written with no small acerbitjr, upon the oc- 
casion, he maintains the originality of bis speculatioDS^ so 
far as regarded Heyue ; and, by the quotation of passagef 
from the works of the latter, would prove that Heyne, not- 
withstanding his repeated assertions, could not, and did not, 
entertain the same or similar views. I'he literary world has in 
some degree sanctioned the assertions of Wolf, by setting 
down Heyne as the leader of an opposite school, though one 
who should compare the prolegomena of the former, with the 
abovementioned memoir of the latter, might find it diffi- 
cult to discover the ground of the distinction. When 
Heyne's edition of Homer, some years alter, appeared, one 
portion of the republic k of letters was arrayed by antici- 
pation against it, and the usual exasperations incident to 
such controversies, have produced in Germany, a radical, 
perhaps lasting, division of opinion on the merits of the 
work. Various circumstances have contributed to prevent 
the labours of Wolf from finding favour, in England or here. 
Few understand, and fOver adopt his system. As far as it 
has been known, it has been associated with the similar 
system, which has been applied by the German divines of 
the New School to the Old and New Testament, and of 
which the rumour has been heard with horrour, in the 
Englfsh and American church. Meantime Heyne's edi- 
tion of the Iliad has received the title of Optima, and if 
seldom mentioned but with the regret that his labours had 
not extended to the Odyssey. He had made collectioiif 
for an edition of the Odyssey, part of which were comini- 
nicated, says Mr. Heeren, to one of the learned ; in wboM 
hands they will not be lost, and a part, we understandf if* 
deposited in the University Library at Gottingen. 



»I«.J 



Lift of Btyne. 




Heine's private life, li!l he reached (he meridian of his 

Ibj8, was full of Iioubles. The skelch of hie earl^ hia- 

fer>', already giveiT, acqiiainU iis with the severil; of his 

fcrrune, till his appoinloienl lo Goltingea ; and Ihe death 

r several of his uhildten, and of his first wife, in the yeas 

^ irra, were new and succeBsive appeals to his sensibility. 

From the period, however, of his second marriage, in ITT?, 

r »ith the daughter of Ihe Elder Braiider, one of the llano- 

■"•erian ministry, and a man of letters, his lile seems to have 

!en puBsed in coniparulive Iranquillily and puace. He 

feceived very many invilalioaa lo ditlerent ailualioiia at 

iel, Dresden, Copenhagen, &c. some of which were 

nghly lucrative and honourable, but he refused them all. 

Be faad promised lo Ihe minister Munchausen, when that 

m^ular man was upnn his death bed, ihat he would never 

nve Gol(in|;en. And at each successive invitation else- 

liiere, he usually received an accession lo his salary. His 

pfcalth, in latter life, was uncommonly good, and his acllv 

T continued to the last. In 1 803, when he was about ihe age 

R 70, he shared with his colleagues in the fear, ihal was felt 

^r the University, under the administration of the French, 

t was determined to address the first consul, upon Ihe 

mbject, and lo commend Ihe Universily lo his protection. 

A letter was accordingly written lo him, by M. Martens, 

Iprorector of Ihe Universily, and by Heyne its oldest mem- 
ber, and correspondent of the Nalional Institute. The 
blowing answer was sent to Heyne, 
h 5 Paris, U 21 Prarial, an XI. de la 

r j Republique Franeaine. 

Ji Ministre de la Guerrr i Mr. Hrtfne.. Memlire de t'Uniwirsite ie 
'GntUingvi et JssocU de L'lmiilvt National de France. 
lie Premier Consul, Monsieur, sjait apprecier lefl services, 
^e ['University de Goeltingue a rendue aux lellres et aus 
arts, et les droits qQelle s'est acquis a la reconoisance dea 
nvatis. Que Ie bruit des arraes n' inlerrompe pas tob pai- 
bibles et utiles occupations. L'arm£e Fran^aise accordera 
nne protcclion speciale a vos elablissemens. Son %€n€ra.l 
en a re^u I'ordre, et aura un grand plaisir 5 l'ex6culer. 
Vous pauv6zen donner I'assurance a lous les membres de 
Totre Univeraile, que Ie Premier Consul honore d'une 
grand estime, et parliculierment a Mr. de Martens, son 
rroreclor. 
Agreez Tassurance de ta consideration 

la plus dlstinguee Al. Bbrthibr. 



I 

I 



216 Life of Heyne. {J anuary , 

The University was accordingly respected, as well at 
this period, as under the Westphaliao usurpation. It 
will not, perhaps, be numbered among Heyne's great- 
est rewards, that he was presented by Jerome with 
the order of the Westphalian Crown- This latter wor- 
thy personage, who oppressed for a short time with 
a vulgar sway a rich and beautiful country, presented 
to the library at Gottingen the spoils of some of the other 
universities : particularly some of those of the library at 
Wolfenbuttel. These, we understand, have been sent 
back. 

Heyne was happy beyond most, who attain like him the 
age of eighty-three, in not outliving his own reputation and 
usefulness. — Though not altogether without the warnings of 
his end, he was able to persevere in his literary labours to 
the last. The day before his death, he wrote some letters, 
one of them in Latin, which was found finished, but open 
upon his table, after his death. He arose as usual at five 
o'clock, on the morning of the 14th of July ; and as his ser- 
vant returned to his chamber with his cofiee, a quarter of 
an hour after, he found him dead by the side of his wash- 
stand. — We close our extracts, with the following account 
of his funeral. * After the body had been laid out at the 

* house of the deceased, on the evening of the 16th, it was 

* carried early in the morning of the iTth to the lower 

* hall of the Library, from which as his real home, the 

* funeral was to proceed. From 7 o'clock, the train of 

* mourners collected in the great hall. Here upon a table 
' hung with black, were three white satin cushions, em- 

* broidered with gold; upon that in the middle was placed 

* the badge of the Westphalian order, with an oaken gar- 

* land, upon the two others the Homer and Virgil of the 

* deceased bound with laurel wreaths. The students with 
^ their marshals, assembled at the same time. At 8 o'clock 

* the procession cooi/nenced, with solemn musick be- 

* fore the hearse, which was surrounded with pall-bearers, 

* from among the students. Next to these followed Count 

* von Schulenburg, with the cushion and Westphalian or- 
« der, with Professors Tychsen and Mitscherlich, on either 

* side, bearing the two other cushions, with the two priii- 

* cipal works of the deceased. The procession passed bj 

* the house of the deceased through the Pauline and Ween- 

* der streets, to the church-yard by the Weender gate, 




Life ofUeynt. 

' where bis grave had been prepared by Ihe side of those of 
' Meialersnd von Schlozer. Some friendly hands had strew- 
'ed it wilh roaesaiiJ other flowers. The pioceGxion form- 
' ed itself in two rows about the grave, and uelore llie cotSn 
' waB deposited, the sublime hymn of Klopslock " thou 
' " shall rise .' thou shall rise* !" was sung by a number 
*of Ihe students. Trie Prorcclor Poll advanced to the 
'grave, and made a short address, adapted [u (lie ?i'ii'.')ii 
'tnoilienl. A proroumt slilloess prevailed Ihroughoul the 
'concourse, and the address itself was rather a Ihnnti- 

* offering o Go I, wo had given us this memorable man, 
' aod preserved him to ns in Ihe exercise of his taculiies 
' lo the laxl inoiiient, than a funeral lamentation. The 
' procession returned in like order to Ihe hall of the library, 
' where after the deposition of (he badge and writings of 
' thti deceased, in iheir former places, professor Benecke, 
'as one of the overseers of the library, pronounced a short 
' but sublime and aflecling speech, and the procession dis- 
' persed. Shortly after was distribuled a Latin poem com- 

* posed in the name of Ihe academy, by Prolessor Mifacher- 
' lich, andenlilled " Ptelas Georgiae AttgHstae, hifuuere 
' vlri aummi Ckrialiani Gottlob Heyne, ordinis cororute 
' Wtstphaiiat tquitis, eloquenliae et poeseos jiro/essortB 
*pttbUci ordiniirii." ' 

Id taking our leave of this very entertaining work, we 
h»ve only to express our regret, that our limits have not ad- 
mitted oflarger exiracls. A great many anecdotes of the 
literature of Ihe last half of the ISlh and beginning of Ihe 
I9th Uenlury are scattered through it, and it yields more 
mcidental information upon the slate of Hie German lilerary 
eRtablishrnents, so far as Heyne, in a life of 83 years, was 
connected wilh Ihetn, than is easily to be fcjnd in any other 
book of the same compass, wilh which we are acquainted. 
We cannot but express our surprise that it has not yet 
had a translation into English. 

Mr. Heyne's literary empire, like that of .Alexander, was 
divided among four successors. He is succeeded by Profes- 
sor Mitscherlich, as prolessor of Eloquence, by Mr. Reurst 
as principal Librarian, by Blumenbach as Secretary of the 
Royal Society, ami by Eichhoin as editor of the Lilera- 
ry Journal. 



* AufereteltD Aul'tirstcbn wirst Du !' 



MIHI 



Sla Ap^t<)fAeLai» |J«mnrgr^ 



A Digest of the Law of Maritime Captures and Prixes. 
By Henry Wheaion^ Counseller at LaWf and AdvoeeUef 
NeW'Yorky published by R. M. Dermtii^ and D. D- 
ArdeUf No. 1, City Hotels Broadmay. Forbes und Co> 
PriiUer^.— 1815. 

A Digest of Prize law has long been a desideratiina witli 
professional gentlemen. What is written on the«ub|eGt 
was dispersed over such a variety of volumes, treatises in 
difTerent languages, and the reports 4»f oiir own, that (o 
bring it within the compass of a single book* is readering 
* the state some service.* A lawyer's library, Irom tfie lum- 
ber otits thousands of volumes, has grown to be «o repulsive 
an object, that writers of Digests are more •than ever io 
requisition to reconcile us to the task of attempting io sm- 
ter whatever of substance it contains. Those are bareihe 
most useful labourers, whose exertions most conduce to the 
saving of labour. Nor is the work humble. Jv^ei ef 
highest ambition have engaged in it. Gilbert and Conya, 
Blackstone and Bulier. The extensKve utility of the end 
gave dignity to the means ; and these mea were aatjsfied 
that they could not more effectually exalt their aiabitioD 
into virtue, than by devoting; their talents and beoev^rienoe 
to the relief of the profession from that superiacambent 
weight, which they were sensible oppressed, and wUcb, 
they had reason to believe, threatened in no v«ry le«g 
time to crush it. If books were indeed in their day mis- 
chievously many, how much more alarming is the evil now, 
when a: new wodd has been given to the common law, ^'aad 
the Reports of this hemisphere already vie in vohiBmoos- 
ness with those of the other. Yet it seems the iscreawg 
evil is destined still to iacrease. It grows out of oar liber- 
ties, and is the exuberance of excessive fertility. Excres 
cencies would be less frequent, from a liberty less rick. 
Formalities increase, said Montesquieu, in proporti^^ to 
the valne which is set on the honour, fortune, liberty nod 
life of the subject. 

These remarks grow out of a review of a new Digest. 
The compiler has brought to his task assiduity and judg- 
ment, discrimination and research. He may not have cit- 
ed all the authorities that could possibly have been pro- 
duced, in support of some points, but enough are citeato 



1 ^t6i] : of Maritime CapiureB' and Friau, 219 

settle the law, and tbe profession will thank him for sparing 
theresi. With respect to tbe competence of a belligerent 
court to condemn prizes while lying in a neutral port^ the 
case of the Comet, 5 Rob. 285. might have been added to 
the cases cited, and this question must now be considered 
at rest, notwithstanding the very respectable decision of the 
N. Y. Supreme Court as pronounced by Ch. J. Kent, 1. 
Johns. 478, and the dissentient opinions in tbe cases in 
Cranch, since these* cases have since been adopted as law 
in divers of the Circuits ; and while the volume before us 
was passing tbe press, th6y were adopted, in the case of a 
libel against goods taken from the brigs Arabella and Ma- 
deira and carried to Canton, China, by Story J. who was 
not of the court when those cases were decided. Extreme 
convenience first gave rise to the practice which these de- 
cisions sanction, and though we agree with Chief Justice 
Kent, Scaevolae asseniimur^ that courts of this country 
were not bound by the practice, but were at liberty from 
the precedents that controlled Sir William Scott, yet we 
think they were to yield, not indeed to the practice, but the 
convenience that suggested it. It is alike convenient to 
tts, ai3 to every other maritime people, who have found the 
convenience imperative. The practice is indeed a deviation 
from the principle on which admiralty jurisdiction was 
thought to be founded ; but what amounts to the legal no- 
tion of necessity justifies this deviation. It is at all events 
of importance, that on this subject there be but one rule the 
world over, and more than half the world had already set- 
tled it for themselves, before the turn came to us to pass 
upon the question. 

In the first chapter reference is had to the decision of 
the Supreme Court of the Union in the case. Brown v. the 
United States, and much is extracted from the opinion of 
the Circuit Judge which that decision overruled. The 
decree pronounced by the District Judge which that deci- 
sion affirmed, contained matter pertinent Xo this chapter, 
and we regret that the author has not availed himself of (he 
manuscript in this instance, and given this opinion a place, 
for the same reason he assigns, page 267, for giving place 
to the address of M. Portalis. 

This work is divided into ten chapters, which comprehend 
very fully the whole of the subject. The appendix might 
perhaps have been spared, notwithstanding the value of tht 



2S0 Maritime Capture$ and Pfites. [Janmrjv 

six first articles, they having already been published in 
various works. In some instances citations are made from 
MS. opinions, since in print, and for the convenience of 
reference, we supply the places where the passages cited 
may be found in tne printed volume. 

Page 29 Emulous, Brown claimant. See 1. Circ. Ct. Re- 
ports, first Circ. d63 

105 Ann Oreen lb. 274 

165 The Julia lb. 609 

174 Liverpool Packet lb. 513 

219 Per Story J. MS. lb. 467 

298 Decatur v. Chew lb. 506 

Croudun et al. v. Leonard is cited p. 275, and the page and 
rolume omitted. It is 4 ; Cranch 424. , 

In a work of (his nature much original matter is not to 
be expected. The little here given, makes the reader 
regret, that the scope of the undertaking would admit of no 
more. Fairness and fidelity in , compilation, precision ia 
connecting the passages compiled, judgment in the division 
and arrangement, are all that can be expected from a digest^ 
and the expectation is here not in vain. There was Uttle 
on the subject in the language before, or rather little in any 
one volume, but what was to be found in the Law of War, 
translated from Bynkershoek by Du Ponceau, or in Lee on 
captures, an inferiour translation of the same work. Mr. 
Wheaton has collated and condensed whatever could be 
selected of importance, in various languages, from writers 
on the law of nations, from the Reports of Judicial deci- 
sions, and from the works of eminent civilians. Without 
any parade of erudition, the writer has endeavoured to 
satisfy a profession not satisfied with a little learning ; and 
to save others^ labour has been laborious himself. His 
subject has indeed abated much of its interest from the re- 
establishment of peace. But from its own nature, and the 
nature of man, the utility of the work is, we fear, perma- 
nent, and it should certainly find a place among the perms* 
Jient authorities of a lawyer's library. 




mill 



History of New-England. 



I general H'mtory of New England, from Ike discoveri/. 
Mo 16^0, by the Rev. William HrBOARO, Minister 
^of tpgwich, Mass. Published by the Maaxarliusetts^ 
t liistorical Suciety. Cambridge, I St 1 5, Hitliard and 

Metcaif.pp. ere. 

The early Belllemenl of Ihe vasi territorieB, dow compris* 

under the nalional lerm, United Slates, U belter known 

history, than thai of any other independent empire in Ihe 

'otld. Though much is recorded of Ihe colonial eslablish- 

mts of Spain, Porlngal and France, yel even Ihe progiesB 

their improvemenl, it is probable, cimnol be deduced 

tith BO much minuteness and aulhenlicily, fur the proceed- 

Igs of the governments in ihe molher countries have been 

\dota exposed lo any but Iheir oflicers, and the settlers 

their new found dominions were as much below our an- 

jeslora iu eilticalion, as were their motives for reoioval. 

Such an eHtabhshment of colonies, as the early part of 

le eeventeeuth century witneased, ihe world had never 

«D, and may never, il is hoped, behold again. No re- 

•et, however, for the principles of our fathers induces this 

isb, for DO nation can viiidicale so honourable an anceslry 

ours. Piirlial exceptions in the colonization of Georgia 

Korlious of Viri^inia, may be left as marks for aporlive 
gnity, or inveterate prejudice ; but who will deny that 
: New England Colonies, Pennsylvania, Maryland and 
Ciroliua were peopled by men of eminence in the civil, 
military, and ecclesiaslical ranks 7 They were, indeed, 
len, of whom the old world was not worthy, and whom in 
leir characterialick virlne*, Ihe new, with all ils advan- 
je8, cannot excel. At the sneers against fluch venerable 
'ionfesBors, Bomeliraes uttered by the amall wits ofEng- 
land, we are compelled lo smile, but excuse Iheir preanmp- 
tion, by Ihe aupposilion, that Ebeir knowledge of us may 
reach back only fifty years. We can hardly with more 
justice be severe on their ridiculous errours than on the 
self-complacence of the French, who imagine our indepen- 
dence lo have resulted fi'om their disinterested atipporf. 

That vague expectations of greal abundance from Ihe 
fertility of soil, or wealth of mines in Ihe land of promise, 
did in some degree induce a large portion of ihe adven- 
turers lo Noi'lh-America, majK' well be granted ; yet when 



I 



3a» HMbbmdfs fifseoty [Jamvii^S 

•uch expectations were not verified, their cheerful perse- 
verance bears honourable testimony to the nobler consid- 
erations that combined to direct, if not to originate their 
counsels. From ungr^eful fields and a sevei« climate, 
tbey heroically awaited the slow and late rewards, of 
which Ihe united fokxe of new diseases, unforeseen casual- 
ties, and crafty enemies would not destroy, though they di- 
nunished their hopes. Of their patience and sobriety, such 
rare qualities in early colonists, much must be ascribed to 
education* It should not be forgotten, that the proporttoo^ 
of our Massachusetts settlers who had been bred at OKfopd^ 
Cambridge, and the best schools of England, was equal, if 
not superiour to that among their fellow subjects at- home« 
Nor is it less to their honour, that the del^t was liberally^ 
repaid from the first fruits of Harvard College, many ei 
whose sons obtained stations of usefulness and honour in 
the land of their fathers. By what other nation can sucb 
claims to respect be advanced ? The renowned assembly 
at Westminster desired the attendance of two of our -di- 
vines, and England was usually regarded rather as a field 
for a more severe exertion, than a retreat for pleasure and 
indolence. The number of such as went home, sick at tfa^ 
disappointment of sanguine hopes, was much below that of 
the enthusiasts who returned, on the commencement of the 
great revolution, to encourage their brethren in the doubt- 
ful contest between rights and prerogative. They felt, 
indeed, an uncommon importance, as the agents of Provi- 
dence, and constantly instructed by it, in civilizing a coun- 
try, for which no other equal portion of mankind could 
have expected similar success ; and their choice seems 
only to have been endeared by want, and hazard, and diffi^ 
culty. To the Commonwealth, erected and supported with 
such devoted labours, each leader could appropriate the 
afiectionate apostrophe : 

Did I but purpose to embark with thee 
On the smooth surface of a suminer's sea, 
While gentle zephyrs play in prosperous gales, 
And fortune's favour fills the swelling sails ; 
But would forsake the ship and make the shore. 
When the winds whistle, and the tempests roar 7 

The history of our ancestors is indeed of the greatest 
value, as affording example^Het our honest admiration need 



28164 af New-EngliMi. flSd 

not be so strong as not to permit ira to observe some eflfaeir 
conduct as warning. Intjo very unjust applications of tbe ac- 
cidents of life, as judgments on vicious courses and even 
barmless errours, they were not unfrequently led by their ha- 
bit of regarding every event, especially an adverse one, as a 
direct interposition of heaven, though, in the ctscuniBtances 
of (heir settlement, such delusion may be viewed with ten- 
derness as salutary or consoling* In all our early histories, 
and remarkably in the work before us, occasions frequently 
occur, in which we may accuse their precipitancy. Tbe 
cause and the palliation of such mistakes, may easily te 
found in the constant reference of incidents in their little 
state, to similar ones in the annals of the Jews, in the de- 
duction of maxims of tbeir daily economy from the Old 
Testament ; and in their romantick devotedness to certain 
branches of religious duty, in which the ardour of zeal 
sometimes exceeded their knowledge. 

Of tlie present narrative, which, though it bas existed in 
maouscrtpt above a hundred and thkty years, Jias yet 
be^i justly appreciated and generaUy known to profound 
ioquurers after our antiquities, a minute examination will 
neither be expecied or desired. It may be observed that 
Prince and Mather made much use of it. It was more honour- 
ed as tbe best source of his information by Hutchinson, 
whose writing is more worthy of the dignified title of his- 
tory than any other American composition during oar 
cokmial state. To style, indeed, Hubbard bas in this work 
afforded little attention, or rather has employed several 
modes of composition in his different chapters, here dilat- 
ing in a careful examination of events and discussion of 
principles, there confining himself to the most meagre 
matiner of the humblest diary. But his skill may be as- 
certained from his election sermon, which no work of the 
two next generations surpassed. In this book liberal as- 
sistance is derived from Winthrop's journal, of which, 
though the most valuable repository of our early history, 
Hutchinson could not avail himself. A striking deficiency 
is instantly perceived in our author's labours, when he 
loses that guidance, and the poverty of the narrative of 
facts subsequent to 1650 enables us to estimate our obliga- 
tions to the first govemoiir of Massachusetts. Yet Hubt 
hard's claims as the historian of the great war of 1675-6 are 



224 Hnbbard^s History tJaniisry, 

aniversally acknowledged, for three editions have made his 
Indian wars well known. 

We cannot however part' from this work without a few 
quotations, of which the first will exhibit the sobrietj of 
the writer, in advantageous contrast with several later build- 
ers of systems. ' It is known to many of our readers, that 
some authors of great name have supposed our Atiorigines^ 
the descendants of the ten lost tribes of Israel; and Adair's 
account of them is wholly occupied with this hypothesis, 
and curious proofs of similarity between the Indian and 
Hebrew languages. Perhaps Hubbard's observations will 
be not less regarded for having been written long before. 

* If any observation bee made of their manners and dispo- 
^sitions, its easyer to say from what nations they did not^ 
'then from whom they did derive theire orriginalL 
< Doubtless theire conjecture who fansy them to be des- 

* cended from the ten tribes of the Israelites, carried cap- 
<tive by Salamaneser and Esarhaddon, hath the least 

* shew of reason of any other, there being noe footsteps to 
' bee observed of their propinquity to them more than to 
'any other of the tribes of the earth, either as to their lan- 
'guage or manners. No instance can bee given of any na- 
' tion in the world, that hath so fare degenerated from the 
'purity of their orriginall tongue in 1500 or 2000 yeeres, 
' butt that there may be observed some rudiments of the 

* ancient language, as may bee scene in the Greeke and 
' Latine tongues, though they are now utterly lost as to 
' the purity of them ; yett it is easy to trace either of them 
' amongest the nations, since descended from those that na- 
' turally spoke the language; butt here can noe such tfainge 
' bee observed amonge the natives of America. Besides, 
' here is found no footsteps of the idolatry or rites of any 
' religious worship the people had degenerated into, nor are 
' any other customes here to bee observed, that bespeake 
' any relation to that stocke, more then to any other peo- 
' pie, unless it be poligamy, which yett was no more pecn- 

* liar to the Jews then to all other nations of the East. It 

* is certainly knowne also, that within 200 miles compasse 
' their language is nothing akin ; so that as one nation of the 
' natives can no more understand the language of them that 
'live a 100 miles from them, nnlesse a little upon the sea 
'coast, then if they spake Greeke or Welsh ; as is evident 
' to them that have been amongst the Mohawks, who live 



1816.] of NeW'England. 225 

^ not to above 100 miles westward from the sea coast : yett 
^ their language is different one from the other, as the 
^ English is from the Welsh.' 

Our regard for the colonists of Plymouth is not quite so 
high as for those of Massachusetts and New Haven, per- 
haps because they were not equal in the advantages of edu- 
catipn or of ancestry ; but we cannot omit the characters of 
the two leaders^^who, like Moses and Aaron, directed their 
departure from the land of strangers, though one only en- 
joyed the fruit of his labours. 

^ The said Robinson, to give him his due, was a man of 
good learning, of a polished wit, and ingenious disposition 
and courteous behaviour, yet not without great tincture of 
the spirit of the rigid separation, as is so well known by 
sundry of his writings, published to the world about those 
times : yet doth he deserve commendation in this, that al- 
though he had been transported so far with those princi- 
ples as to publish his opinion against hearing any of the 
preachers of the Church of England, were they never so 
leanted and pious ; yea to that confidence was he arrived, 
that he began to play with Dr. Anies his name, styling him 
in one of bis pamphlets, '' Mr. William Amiss ;" yet after 
the Doctor bad taken him to task, and showed him his 
great mistake, in his unanswerable piece, called " A manu- 
duction to Mr. Robinson," and finding himself unable to 
grapple any lohger with so great a master of reason, he 
submitted, not being willing to speak any thing against the 
truth, that had been by the help of an antagonist discover- 
ed unto him. Tea farther, he came afterwards to acknow- 
ledge, and in a judicious and godly discourse to approve 
and defend the lawful liberty, if not the duty, in case of 
hearing the godly preachers of the Church of England. 
Thus like Paul he preached. that, which he had with his 
pen persecuted before ; like some fruit, that before it is 
ripe is harsh, sour, and unpleasant, till it attain, by the ad- 
vantage of after time, to the mildness and sweetness of 
riper age; as was observed in this good man, who, as he 
grew in years, grew in many excellent gifts, both of na- 
ture and grace, and great moderation of spirit in regard 
of what he manifested in former time, which was not often 
found in them of that rigid persuasion. Thit passage is 
intended as rather matter of commendation than reflection 
aipon that eminent person, or any of the Christian bre« 
Vol. II. No. 6. 29 



226 Hubbard^s History [Januarj, 

* thren of his church. To proceed, therefore, there was 

* one Mr. Brewster, a prudent, grave, and serious Chris- 
^ tian, of great experience in things of religion, and a man of 

* a finer altey than the ordinary sort of the separation, hav- 
' ing had no small advantage by his education under Secre- 
' tarj Davison, in the court of Queen Elizabeth, that was 
< joined with the said Mr. Robinson in the eldership, by 

* whose prudence and discretion that church was kept in 
' sweet and entire union and accord, both before and after 

* their parting asunder, contrary to the manner and custom 
*of some of that persuasion in Holland.' 

The liberality of the fathers of Massachusetts, with re- 
spect to church government and forms of worship, has not 
commonly been admitted. But the present volume, p. 
lir, will satisfy fair inquirers, that the rigid and exclusive 
system grew up several years afterwards. When all were 
mad in England, the colony could. hardly be sober. The 
parting address to the church, from which they were se- 
parating, p. 126, could not have given oSence to any judi- 
cious friends of episcopacy> and may ever be referred to 
with confidence. 

A common libeller in Oreat Britain once noticed ours as 
the country ^ where every scoundrel convict is a king.' 
In p» 13r, of the history before us, it seems that certain of- 
fenders, besides imprisonment, and other severe punish- 
ments, were < sent back to England, that the plantation here 
might be no longer pestered with them.' 

Infant colonies have justice administered in a mode very 
different from older establishments, and many ludicrous 
accounts of inHictions of sentences, very irregularly given, 
are found in all our records. We may smile at the appro- 
priateness of the following instance, but ought to remember 
the brazen bull of Dionysius. 

^ There was some exemplary punishment adjudged to 
'some offenders in this kind, in the year 1639, for selling 

* above 331. per cent ; but since that time the common 
' practice of the country hath made double that advance no 
' sin ; an evil which, though every one feels the burden of, 

*yet none know how to ease themselves thereof. A remark- 
< able instance was that year given in one F. P. who for 
' asking an excessive price for a pair of stocks which he 
' was hired to frame, had the honour to sit an hour in them 
'first himself, to warn others not to offend in the like kind.* 



1816.J of New-England. 827 

Another example may satisfy us of the superiour freedom 
of our degenerate age. * One Hugh Bewet was at the next 
'court of assistants, March the 1st, sent out of the jurisdic- 
' tion, for holding publickly, and maintaining that he was 

* free from original sin ; it being justly to be feared, that if 
' he had staid still, rhe would have made himself, and others 

* too, guilty of more actual sin, than his neighbours, (as is 
' ordinarily found by experience of those great pretenders 

* to perfection and holiness,) although he did also affirm, 

* that for half a year before, he had been likewise free from 
'actual sin.' At present, actual transgression is more than 
the legislator and judge can perfectly animadvert upon, and 
original sin may be maintained or denied, at the wUl of the 
disputants. . 

Very abundant relation is given here of the great schisms 
in the church of Boston, usually ascribed to Mrs. Hutchin- 
son, although governours Vane and Cotton seem to have 
equally the honour of its origin. This lady's reveries 
seem to have caused as much trouble as those of Madam 
Guyon in France, but her spiritual father was a better 
politician than Fenelon. The minority were branded as 
antinomians and familists, yet the former epithet might with 
nearly equal justice be given to the prevalent party. How 
much fairness the Boston hereticks received may be easily 
imagined frcfm the stories of the horrible judgments that 
Welde in his ' History of the rise, reign and ruin of 
Antinomianism' has drawn from heaven upon them. This 
contemptible diablerie is fully supported by Johnson and 
even by Mather, but Hubbard was more honest or less cre- 
dulous. Yet much that Hubbard has admitted is l^ejected 
in our days; and though he tells us, p. 337, of $/ie ridicu- 
lous opinions entertained at Rhode Island and that * at 
Providence also the Devil was not idle,' we must consider 
much of that sort of history, as scandal rather than tes- 
timony. 

A sound judgment, as a politician, will however be ge- 
nerally ascribed to our author, of which, had we room for- 
the extract, all would be satisfied by his remarks on the 
New Haven polity, which subsisted without juries, p. 33'^ 
333. 

How early our character for enterprise was acquired 
should be seen in the account of 1645. ^ As the country 

* had hitherto begun to flourish in most English manufac 



V 



S80 American Juri$pru4mc€4 [Januarj, 

^ was passing therewith over the ferry, one asked if he covid 
'not tame the Tessel, seeing he could sometimes tame men; 
* he answered, I have that here, which it maj be will tame 
'her and make her quiet, shewing his warrant, and at the 
'same instant the ship began to stop her motion and swim 
' upright, which had continued rolling after a strange man' 
' aer about twelve hours, and after Jones was in prison she 
'never moved in that kind any mi re.' 

We need not recommend this history, for none but loveri 
of historical antiquity will read it ; and to such we conld 
offer no stronger inducement than its title page* However, 
the curious inquirer into our language may find words of 
strange combination that may exercise his wit, and perhapi 
cause him to regret their disuse. Mercate, incolumiij/i 
conduetiiions and acupict have struck us. If the substance 
of this volume should fail to engage the attention of posts- 
jrity, which may have more authentick and original material! 
of information, its style will always be an object of curiosity 
to those who recollect, that the author was in the first claii 
of graduates at Harvard College. 



American Jurisprudence^ written and published at Waskr' 
ingtony being a few reflections^ suggested on reading 
' fFheaton on Captures.* Washington, printed 8«o« 
pjp. 52. 

The laws against poachers in some countries, are so ex* 
tremely severe, that a man may be sent to the gallies, or 
even executed for killing a hare or a pheasant. Though it is 
our rightful jurisdiction to make game of folly and absurdity, 
and run down their authors, yet in this country the lawi 
afibrd us no more protection than they do to other sports- 
men. In the present case we have detected a poacher, ^hfh 
though he has not interfered with our reserves aboT< 
alluded to, yet has clearly invaded our manour ; he tes 
sought to disguii^e himself as having a regular license, be- 
cause, after the most approved models, he hardly notices 
the work which he professes to have in view. The io* 
dignation we felt at this invasion of our rights was however 
soon allayed in perusing his performance, by the pleasure 
derived from its naiveti; which is its most striking chanf* 
teristick, a quality of a11 others the rarest to be met with* 



American Jurisprudence. 

s the prevailing feature, and which would have led to 
detection on Ihe first examination, as it 13 never wilness- 
ifn Ihe faarsh, forbidding countenanceB of crilicks. 
The first instance we cite from the 13lh page, in which 
^e is the following figure. 'The Constitution with Cap- 
in Hull in ber, did not come down upon Ihe Gueriere in 
vpirit of more daring and Iriujnphant energy, than the 
liiladelphia or New-York lawyers will somelimes do 
ion a statute that happens la run a lillle amiaa!' The 
Dor has modestly put only one note of admiration to 
i sentence : be does himself injustice ; Ihe most phleg- 
tick reader would give it three or four. It is one of the 
Eations attending celebrity, that a man who achieves it 
■ his face vilely caricatured in magazines, or hung upon 
itgn-post to some sorry inn, or liecome Ihe theme of 
gar plaudits and bombastick speeches. The officer who 
■ere lugged in so unexpectedly, for a companion with a 
'illing ' Philadelphia or New-York lawyer,' though be is 
Conspicuous for his modesty as his merit, must submit to 

common fate of (hose who serve their country. 
The next example is slill more precious, becaufie it is 
only naiveU, but professional naivell, and this too in a 
ifession where it is the rarest of all exoficks. 
Lastly in the structure of our judicnlure, we haveamuK 
'ide of diBerenI sorls of Courts. We have Courts of 
aunoa law and Courts of Chancery, Admiralty and 
iritime Coin ts, Courts civil and Courts criminal, sittings 
eisi priuB and full terms in hank, register's courts, or- 
lui's courts, eschealor's courts, justices' courts, wilh the 
toy gradations of some of them, and wilh others that 
ight be made to swell the catalogue. Il may be said, 
lat this is nothing more than the judicial polity of other 
motries, particularly Britain, is liable to ; that if you will 
igtn at the piepoudre, and go up to the peers in parlia- 
eol, you will run through, under some modificalion or 
faer, as long an enumeraiion. This may he true. But 
e difference is, that the profession here is not subdivided 
,'any of the stales, in the way that it is in England, and 
e American lawyer is called upon at one period, or other 
' hia life, to understand Ihe constitution of each of these 
rms ; to be familiar at least wilh their principles if not 
flh their forms, as he passes on through Ihe usual stages 
t the head of his profession.' 



232 American Jurisprudence. [JaDuarjr, 

What a proof is here given of the force of habit ; with 
what coinplacenc J, with what triumph doei^ he run over this 
terrifick list, at the bare recital of which, a common man 
shiidders with affright; steUnmlqve comce et vox faucibus 
haesit : it reminds us of a conversation between two medical 
friends of ours. While comparing the relative advantages 
of our CO mtry with those of othe>Sy one of them rather de- 
spondingly remarked, that we had neither plague, elephan- 
tiasis, plica polonica nor goitres :. the other to console him 
enthusiastically replied; but we have yellow fever, and 
spotted fever, and influenza, and dyspepsia! 

In speaking of Sir William Scott he has struck ont the fol* 
lowing sentence — * In an argument where the utmost attenua- 

* tion of thought is drawn out into corresponding exilities of 

* expre»<sion, he labours with abortive yet splendid ingemiitj 

* to shew, that justice and such rescripts must ever be in 
^harmonious union.' However fine this may be we' de- 
nounce it ; there is no such word as exilities^ and none 
such is wanted. There are plainer synonymous ones that 
will answer for most of the things done at Washington. 
Every new material for a pompous inanity of style should be 
rjgidly proscribed. There are some writers who think 
they have made a conquest if they have only introduced a 
barbarous word. Goldsmith once told Johnson, * that if he 

* were writing fables and introducing little fishes, he would 
^ make them talk like great whales.' Johnson's example 
has done much mischief; his hard words have been admired 
for their own merits, when they were only to be tolerated 
for the sentiments they conveyed. Since his time we are 
often disturbed by the foppery of those, who, utterly unable 
to wield the club, still cover themselves with the Neroean 
skin. 

The writer says some handsome and some just things 
of this celebrated English Admiralty Judge. If to 
his integrity, his sagacity, his great learning, and 
luminous style, he had united greater firmness and 
elevation of mind ; had he have refused to act while the 
permanent principles of the laws of nations were superaed- 
ed by the iniquitous edicts of shortsighted politicians, then 
indeed his name would have gone to posterity, as one of th^ 
greatest men of his age ; as it is, it will be recorded ai one 
of the ablest. 



B19.7 ' Comptr'a Poemi. 

We have one more quotation to make : * In throwing out 
conjeclural senliaieiil, and one not altogether hast^, we 
presume to Ihink that the law-mind, if we may so speak, 
of the United Slalea has, froai adequate causes, forerun 
^^ the general coiidilion of lilerature, and already been 
Accelerafed and ma(ured into as much forte and discipline 
18 it it likely lo reach in any more distant period of the 
Country's advancemenl.' Now can any one say with cer- 
linty what is the meanin;i of ihisT what is the precise si^ 
licalion of thf- lam-miad uf tht United Slates T We might 
Kes« a( its meaning, because we inhabit a dixtrict where to 
ness is a birlhright, the contilant exercise of which is no* 
K-ious, but we are unable tn say with certainly what is the 
cact idea the author intended to express ; yet it will not 
B at all surprising if this term ahoidd become popular ; in 
le neighbourhood where il originaled, il bears such a strong 
Memblance to suioe old favourites, that it may well b* 
Sopted. 

This pamphlet has been attributed to an officer of high 
tnk in ^^e Uw ; which we hope may have been done with- 
it any foundation. The extracts we have made are its 
nst prominent defects ; they are however sufficient to show 
false and puerile taste. . Yet we believe the author is 
hie of doJn^ better: a comparison between American 
la English jurisprudence, and the lawyers of the two 
IsnlrJes, is an interesting subject, but requires extensive 
iqaaintance with both lo do it justice. 



'wm» btf fVUliam Cowper, Esq. Vol. 3d, containing hit 
poslktimous poetry, and a sketch of his life, by his kins- 
man, John Johngoit, Rector of Yaxham. — Boston. 
Pubiishtd btf IVdls and Lilit/, 1815. pp. 307. 

An accession to the works of Cowperis an event of no 
Ball interest lo the reading world. There are few insian- 
eea in which less is to be apprehended from the officious 
industry of friends, in gleaning scattered fragments, which 
Were never inlended for tlie publick, or which the author judg- 
«d to be unworthy of puliliciition- After the inliutate acquain- 
tance which Hayley has enabled us to form with Cowper, we 
•reconGdent, that not eien the activity of interested pub- 
lishers will be able to hunt up any of hJa remaining produc* 
. VaX. II. No. 5. 3~ ~^-i 



I 



f34 Cowper^8 Poems. [Januarj} 

lions, which are not characterized bjr tenderness, simpli- 
city, chasteness, and piety* 

In every language there is a small number of authors 
whose claims npon po<}terity are not to be disputed. From 
these the critics draws his rules, and these it is the first 
business of the student to learn to admire. Johnson did 
not think himself authorized <o draw into the light what he 
deemed the faults and absurdities of Milton, before he had 
acknowledged him to be the first of English poets, and a ri- 
val of the first of all poets. Hume has said of Shakespeare, 
that it is doubtful whether his excellencies outweigh hii 
faults, and we dissent from him respectfully ; had any other 
than one of a distinguished literary character, made this re* 
mark, it would have been received with a compassionate 
sneer. Cowper's reputation is not so definitely fixed, nor 
his rank so exactly ascertained. Various opinions exist 
concerning his aggregate merit, as well as his particular 
beauties and defects. Some condemn him, in the lump, ap 
tame and puny, and are not charged with a want of common 
sense, or pronounced to be destitute of sensibility^ t^o poeti- 
cal excellence. A writer who addresses himself to fiancjr 
and sentiment, produces various and often opposite ^ffecti 
upon different readers. In reasoning, all understandings agree, 
when the terms of the argument are accepted in the saiM 
sense by each ; but taste depends on education, prejudice, 
habit, and association of ideas, and as long as men differ io 
respect to these, the same succession of words must necei- 
sarily excite in them very different trains of emotions. Mil- 
ton and Shakespeare have probably fewer spontaneous ad- 
mirers than Pope and Cowper. In regard to the two for- 
mer, publick opinion overawes us, and many a painful rea- 
der is compelled to work himself up to a seeming relish of 
sentiments which he does not feel, and a supposed admirar 
tion of beauties which he does not perceive. Theseatt- 
thors appear in the literary world as grandsires, sometioiei 
in the faRhionable, surrounded by a brilliant circle of their 
own posterity. They are not in the height of the fashioDf 
but above it ; beyond the reach of imitation, and the in* 
fluence of censure. They are exempted from the rules aad 
modes of the time, and their venerable peculiarities and bog 
established dignity are considered sacred. It is otherwiK 
with those of the subordinate ranks, they continue to be 
subject to criticism* Iklany do not scruple to call Pope s 



lere rhyrnster, zad Ihere are not wanting those who nay 



a task tu read it.' 



Iti 



lalters of laste. 



Vrery II 



B op 111 

lo disturb hi^i 



oiuHl be ri^ht in respect to binii^elf, and 



II of il, I 



18 he 



lossessioii c 
brbeara to prescribe 
dertake to reason men into pleasure or di^gusf, anrJ hnti we 
the power, we ahoulil not have the whh, to torbid anj one 
the espression of the salisfiiclion or displeasure, wilh which 
^Jie regards a production espreasly submitted to htm by its 
^bilbar. If one forms his judgment of a worli exchisively | 
^B^m the manner in which be is affected by the perusal ofl 
^^h ^^ Bhould confine Ihe applicalion of his decision to hiin- 
•elf, instead of extending into a general criticism. To 
judge rightly of an aulhor, we must view objects from the 
silion assumed by himself, or thai occupied by the genera- 
lly of his readers. Unless we lalie the station at which 
be arlitit has sketched the landiicape, we shall in vain look 
If a resemblance lo (he real scene. Thus, in estimating the 
nctures of men and things. drawn by a poet, we must lake 
ffio consideralion the relations of Ihe writer, and Ihe charar- 
l^r of Ihe readers for whom his production is intended. If 
S contemplales life through Ihe gloom and mist of religious 
nelancholy, we may condemn his choice of a position, and 
pi'onounce bis views lo be false, yel when we place our- 
selves at the same point of observation, objects assume to 
US Ihe same sombre hues, and appear in Ihe same enagge- 
raled dimensions. We must reverse Adam Smith's princi- 
ple, and as, according to him, we might, as it were, become 
divesled of our identity, and view ourielves at a distance as 
■mparlial spectators of our own characters and conduct, so, 
to judge rightly of others, we should, in a manner, trans- 
fuse ourselves into, and become identified with them. 
. As philosophers, we may smile at Ihe portents, prodi- 
^K^s, and divine interpositions which occur so frequeaily in 
^^Be works of Cowper, and which, according lo his letters, 
^H|e often observed and experienced. Practical, semible 
men, who are satisfied wilh Ihe world and its inhabilanis, as 
it has pleased God lo make them, would nol do Ihe solitary 
and despondingbard justice, were they lo form their opi- 
pion of him from Ihe many passa-ges writlen in the spirit of 
the following extract : 

I see that all arc wanderers, gone astray. 
Bach iu his own dclusione ; ihey are lost 



I 



t3< Cowpir's Potmi* [Jamnrj,. 

In cbate of fancied happinen, atill woo'd 
And never won. Dream after dream ensnea ; 
And atill they dream that they ahall still succeed. 
And ttill are disappointed. Rings the world 
With the vain stir? 1 sum up half mankind. 
And add two-thirds of the remaining half* 
And find the total of their ho|)es and fears. 
Dreams, empty dreams. — Task, Book 3. 

Men of extensive and profound views of human life, and 
inch as think that there are not so great fluctuations of 
happiness, and virtue and vice, as there are in the no- 
tions entertained concerning them, do not condole with 
Cowper in his lamentations over the follies and enormities 
of the present limes, and do not very sorrowfully mourn at 
the reported < sickness and death of the hoary sage Disci- 
^ pline/ In reading such things, they consider who the wri* 
ter is, and what sort of people they generally are, by whom 
he eipecti to be read, Cowper requires of us very liberal 
lllQwances on account of bia character, situation, and habits 
ot thinking. It is not surprising that auch a satirist as be, 
ihould qot choose proper objects, or aim his shafts with 
ikill« His religious prejudices and views of life, have a 
tendenov to make the man who adopts them, ridiculous, use* 
less, ana unhappy. But we do not read poetry to learn the 
irules of living and judging ; we commonly regard it as an 
instrument to eii;cite a delicate and re6ned pleasures and the 
means of chastening an^ softening our sensibilities, \ In this 
respect Gi^wper ia a poet, ( Can any one read him, and npt 
be animated by the glow of benevolence which is diffused 
through his writings? It must be a hard heart that is not 
touched by the tenderness of his sentiments, and a doD 
sensibility, that is not moved by his lively and accurate 
representations of nature. Those who relish social and do* 
mestick enjoyments, find in Cowper the best finished den 
acriptiona of the scenes of their happiness. (His style is 
pure, not unfrequently elegant, and always easy. ) iHe has 
little fire, brilliancy, or sublimity ; he frequently delightB, 
but never astonishes. ' 

The volume, the publication of which is the occasion of 
these remarks, is commenced with a life of the author, 
written by Dr. John Johnson, his nephew, and editor of 
this supplement to his works. Any new facts of impor- 
tl^pce wer^ not to be expected b this piece q( biography^ 



7 Cowptr^s Poems. 287 

not executed with verjr great abilitj; it cannot Tiil, 
7ery to entertain those who have not read Haylej, and 
ie who have, this abstract will not be tedious. The 
ct, in whatever form presented, is interesting, and 
sis many reflections upon human life, and the causes 
ipiness and misery. When we find a man possessing 
iny means of felicity, continually groaning under the 
enof existence during the (lay, and * hunted by spi- 
ll hounds during the night,' we are led to think that 
nal circumstances constitute but a small part of the 
or evil of life, and that constitutional temperament, 
lie regulation of the desires and imagination, are more 
*taut to well being, than mental endowments, fortune, 
ends. Were one to name those circumstances in 
I existence is most desirable, he would bring into the 
eration many of those which belonged to Cowper. He 
xempted, in a great measure, from want and care, — he 
seed a lively susceptibility of the pleasurable, influ- 
Df beauty in all its forms — friends surrounded him, who 
ready to devote their live«s to bis comfort— he scarcely 
.countenance which did not greet him with the signs of 
ion and esteem. Add to these his talents of conver- 
I, his powers of pleasing, and love of friendly, fami- 
)ciety. But he was able to avail himself of these ad- 
es during only a small part of his life. Terrible images 
ssed his imagination, which he could not dispel ; he 
sd to be hanging over the abyss of eternal torments ; 
anker of despair was corroding his heart, and he culti- 
1 a sensibility, which only served to render his sense 
lering more poignant. He needed something of the 
Bophical indifTerence, or stoical fortitude, which consti- 
lome part of virtue, and which often enable us to 
en destiny, by teaching us to deride or defy it, 
greater part of the contents of this volume had 
fdready published ; they are now put into the form 
convenient addition to the two former volumes of Cow- 
poems. The lines addressed to a lady, on reading, 
Prayer for Indifference,' are not in HaWjcgr's collection, 
t is one of the best original pieces in this volume. In the 
ming of the Retired Cat, the reader will perhaps recog- 
something of Swift's manner. 

A poefs cat, sedate and grave, 
As poet will could wish to have, 



S9t CiMp»'» Fornf. [JwSMfr 

Was rao^h addicted to enqniM 
For nooks to which she ndgbt Ktire^ 
And where secure as mouse in chinks 
6he might repose, or sit and think, 
I know not where she caught tlie trick- 
Nature perliaps herself had cast her 
In such a mould phUoscphijUej 
Or else she learned It of her master, 
Sometimes ascending debonair, 
An apple tree, or lofty pear, 
IfOdgM with ccmvenience in tlie forit, 
8he watched the gardener at his work^ 
Sometimes her ease and solace sought 
In an old, empty watering pot, 
There wanting nothing, save a fan. 
To seem some nymph in her sedan, 
Apparell'd in exactest sort-. 
And ready to be borne to court, etc. 

There is an address to an ancient oak tree at Tardley, is 
blank vecse, which contains many thoughts quite charac* 
teristick. We ahaU extract a part of this little poem. 

Time made thee what thou wast, Ung of the woods ; 
And Time hath made thee what thou art — a cave 
For owls to roost in. Once thy spreading boughs 
O'erhung the champaign ; and Uie numerous flocks. 
That gras'd it, stood beneath that ample cope 
Uncrowtled, yet safe shelterM from the storm. 
No flock frequents thee now. Thou hast outlivM 
Thy popularity, and art become 
(Unless verse rescue thee awhile) a thing 
Forgotten, as the foliage of thy youth. 

While thus throi^h all the stages thou hast pushed 
Of treeship — first a seedling, hid in grass ; 
Then twig ; then sapling ; and, as cent'ry rolled 
8lo\\' after century, a giant hulk 
Of girth enormous, with moss-cushioned root 
U()heav'd above the soil, and sides eniboss'd 
With prominent wens globose — till at the last 
The rottenness, which time is charged to inflict 
On other mighty ones, found also thee. 

What exhibitions various hath the world 
Witnessed of mutability in all. 
That we account most durable below 1 



\ 



BI64 Copfper^B Poems. 99^ 

Change is tbe diet, on which all 8iibBist> 
Created changeable, and change at last 
Destroys them. Skies uncertain now the heat 
Transmitting cloudless, and the solar beam 
Now quenching in a boundless sea of clouds—" 
Calm and alternate storm, moisture and drought. 
Invigorate by turns the iipiings of life. 
In all that live, plant, animal, and man. 
And in conclusion mar them. Nature^s threads. 
Fine passing thought, e'en in her coarsest worki^ 
Delight in agitation, yet sustain 
The force, that agitates, not unimpaired ; ' 

But, worn by frequent impulse, to the cause 
Of their best tone their dissolution owe. 

Thought cannot spend itself, comparing still 
The great and little of thy lot, thy growth 
From almost nullity into a state 
Of matchless grandeur, and declension thence. 
Slow, into such magni6cent decay. 
Time was, when settling on thy leaf, a fty 
Could shake thee to the root-nand time has been 
When tempests could not At thy firmest age 
Thou hadst within thy bole solid contents. 
That might have ribb'd the sides and plankM the deck 
Of some flagged admiral ; and tortuous arms. 
The shipwright's darling treasure, didst present 
To the four-quartered winds, robust and bold, 
WarpM into tough knee timber,* many a load ! 
But the axe spared thee. In those thriftier days 
Oaks fell not, hewn by thousands, to supply 
The bottomless demands of contest, wag'd 
For senatorial honours. Thus to time 
The task was left to whittle thee away 
With his sly scythe, whose ever nibbling edge. 
Noiseless, an atom, and an atom more. 
Disjoining from the rest, has, unobserved, 
Achieved a labour, which had far and wide. 
By man performed, made all the forests ring. 

Emboweird now, and of thy ancient self 
Possessing nought, but the scoopM rind, that seems 
An huge throat, calling to the clouds for drink, 

* Knee-Timber is foand in the crooked arms of oak, which, hy reason of their dif- 
rtion,ar«eaill7a4Juftedto the angle formed wh^ire tbe deck and ship** sides 



M# Cawper's Panis. [Janoai} 

Which it would gire in rivulets to thy root. 
Thou temptest none, bat rather much forbidd'tl 
The fellei^s toil, which thou couldst ill requite* 
Yet is thy root sineere, sound as the rock, 
A quarry of stout spurs, and knotted fangs. 
Which, crook'd into a thousand whimsies, clasp 
The stubborn soil, and hold thee still erect. 

So stands a kingdom, whose foundation yet 
Fails not, in virtue and in wisdom laid. 
Though all the superstructure, by the tooth 
Pulverized of venality, a shell 
Stands now, and semblance only of itself! 

Thine arms have left thee. Winds liave rent them off 
Long since, and rovers of the forest wild 
With bow and shaft, have burnt them. Some have left 
A splintered stump, bleach'd to a snowy white ; 
And some, memorial none where once they grew* 
Yet life still lingers in thee, and puts forth 
Proof not contemptible of what she can. 
Even where death predominates. The spring 
Finds thee not less alive to her aweet force. 
Than yonder upstarts of the neighboring wood. 
So much thy juniors, who their birth received 
Half a millenium since tiie date of thine. 

But since, although well qualified by age 
To teach, no spirit dwells in thee, nor voice 
May be expected from thee, seated here 
On thy distorted root, with hearers none. 
Or prompter, save the scene, I will perform 
Myself the oracle, and will discourse 
In my own ear such matter as 1 may. 

One man alone, the Father of us all. 
Drew not his life from woman ; never gaz'd. 
With mute unconsciousness of what he saw. 
On all around him ; learn'd not by degrees, 
Nor ow'd articulation to his ear; 
But, moulded by his Maker into maq 
At once, ufistood intelligent, surveyed 
All creatures, with precision understood 
Their purport, uses, properties, assigned 
To each his name significant, and, fillM 
With love and wisdom, rendered back to Heav'n, 
In praise harmonious the first air he drew. 
He was excus'd the penalties of dull 



Cowptr's Poems, 

Minority. No tutor c ha r^'d h'w hand 

With the ihoughl-trnciDs (luill. or taak'U bb misd 

Wilh prolilems. History, uo( wanted yet. 

Le:m'd on her elbow, wdtcbing Time, whose couree, 

Eventful, should aupidy her nilli a theme. — 

Covper does not always sustain himself, and theic are 
wanting InBtances of the flatness which might be expect- 
in the compositions of a school-boy. The following 
are taken from what Hayley call? ' an heroick ballmd of 

Iquisite palbos,' on the loss of tbe Royal George. 

Eight hundred oT the brave. 
Whole courage well was tried. 

Had made the vessel hee), 
And laid her on her side. 

A land breeze shook the shrouds, 

And she was overset, 
DowD went the Royal George, 

With all her crew complete. 

some recent production of Soulhey, (a birth-<]ay ode, 
re are not mistaken,) there is a coiacidence of thought 
' the following lines, taken from the ode written in bO' 
' of John Thornton. Speaking of his liberality, 

And though in act unAvearied, merit still 

As in some solitude the summer rill 

Refreshes, where it winds, the faded green, 

And cheers the drooping flowers, unheard, tinseea. 

Te cannot but quote the following passage from one of 
per's letters, for the edification of some excessively de- 

: readers, who admire him only as a gloomy religionist. 

^ling <o the editor of this volume, who was then a alu 
Ibeoloey, he aaya, ' You must give yourself to the 

ddy of Greek ; not merely that yon may be able to read 

omer, and the other Greek Clasaicks, with ease, but 
ek Testament, and the Greek Fathers also. Thus 

lalified, and by the aid of your fiddle into the bargain. 

[ether with some portion of the grace of God, (without 

lich nothing can be done,) to enable you to look well to 

lur Bock, when you shall get one, you will be well set 
for a parson.' 

^oU 11. Wo. a. 31 



S4I Trmifff in Ef^Umi. (lanaaryi 

Joftmal of a tour and residence in Chreat Britain during 
the years 1810 anil 1811 by a French Traveller^ with 
remarks on the Country^ its ArtSy Literature^ and Po- 
liticks^and on the Manners and Customs of its inhabu 
tanltf. Edinburgh : printed by Ramsay and Co. for 
Constable and Co. and Longman^ Hurst and Co^ Lm^ 
douj 1 8 1 d. 2 vols. Zvo. pp. 742. With platea. 

The English bftTe contributed more than any other peo* 
pie to the stock of travels. They have visited and de« 
scribecl every country in Europe ; their own country in re« 
turn has not been often depicted by foreigners ; of the 
American travellers who have published accounts of Eng- 
landi the work of professor Silliman has been hitherto the 
best. Perhaps the mest complete book of travels in Eng- 
land that has yet been produced, was Southey's fictitioni 
< Letters of Esnriella.' The English, however, have kft 
but little for other nations to do. Having been con6ned so 
miich at home for the last twenty years, and so long ex- 
cluded from the Continent, they have travelled over their 
own islands, and there 'have been so many tours, so many 
descriptions of Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and every county 
in England ; that for every thing, except national character 
and manners, their own books are more complete, than any 
that can be written by a stranger. Still it is always inte- 
resting to see one country described by the native of 
another; and if the traveller possesses intelligence and a 
moderate share of liberality, his observations will possess 
the value of impartial judgment. People are seen by 
others under lights apd shades, in which they can pever b^ 
hold themselves. 

We do not recollect any instance of a traveller ppssesst 
ing more requisites, for giving an interesting book of tra- 
vels in England, than those which appear to have beep 
united in the author of the work befpre us. He was a 
Frenchman educated in France, lived in the United States. 
twenty years, where he acquired a perfect knowledge oC 
the language and literature of England, apd became safr 
ciently accustomed to political institutions of the same 
generick character, though much more free and elemeptarys 
to be able to judge of those in a country so differef.4 from 
Jlisowo, without being confounded, disgusted qr dazzled hf 



Travels in England. 



r navdtj and peculiar pliysiogcjoniy. He appei 
kve a general knowledge of uioiitot Ibe sultjeclsot ec 

literature, poliliual economj, and lite fine arUi wliich 
QuId come in iho way of an inielligent traveller. In addi- 
Dn lo all Ihia, lie seems, wbal is indeed uncomoion, to be 
most wholly exempt from passion, prejudice, or ibe spirit 
^ ptrty. HiH opinions are all the result of bia observation, 
»l received iVoiu olheis ; and he is remarkably indepen* 
ent without being rude or illiberal. In Ibe article of paint- 
£a, for instance, he speaks as a connoisseur, but quite unin- 
uenced by najnes or cstablisbed reputation. He admires 
1 pictures of Kaphacl, except (be Cartoons at Hampton 
lurl, which are indeed the only pictures of thai great ar- 
il in England Ibal have any me.il, though there is a very- 
re Cartoon copy of the Traasligiiratlon, at Kensington 
Mace. He denounces Rnbens, in which we join vith bim 
Oil enlitely ; for (he great reputation of (his artist mustbs 
lUoded on his science, and be truly felt only by artists. 
. is impossible that a person who should possess onljr 
iste without skill can be pleased with bis paintings. 
ITilh respect lo Rembrandt, we cannot follow hiui, he 
Ctols him loo much. His observations on (bis subject, 
bich are (rue and natural, extend lo Ibe publick exhibi- 
ODS, and the principal private collections, such as the 
iurquiii of Lansdown's, Mr. Hope's, Mr. Aogerstein's, &c. 
I A man who travels in a free country, however, is not 
infined lo the paintings and statues, rausick and the Ihea- 
es, he must naturally engage in questions of political 
iODomyi of government and literature. The work contains 
iicussions on the prominent lopicks of the day, paper cur- 
iae^) reform in Parliament, &,c. &c. These are treated 
ilh discernment and perfect temper and imparlialily. He 
BUS abatr^tedly to ihe side of strong government, and 
^liiiviag himself been educated under adcspolick form, seems 
(o have found a aorl of relief from the perfect freedom of 
Uie United Blates, in Ibe ioslilutions of England, which held 
Lbe medium between the Iwo. It is perhaps quite impossi* 
lie that any man, brought up under a despotism, should feel 
■tire confidence in a perfectly fiee stale. The absence of 
jCeuslomed restriction, would in his mind always be blended 
uththe apprehension of inadeqiialeprolectioii. Men are Ibe 
!«alures of habit in government, as in every lliing else, and 
B B«fel/ oriiing to a free government from this source, is 



Til 

pears to ^H 
sciencoi ^H| 
i, which f 



944 TmnlM in Et^^Uatil. [JttiMrfi 

quite at powerful as under a despotick me ; it is safe in iti 
flatural exercisci sod dangerous only wlien violated or coun- 
teracted. 

We watched with some curiositj, to see if the author had 
been able to diTest himself absolutely, of all national tus- 
ceptibilitj. For a Frenchman, however magnanimovs he 
may be, unless his feelings are wholly blunted, must some- 
times have them disagreeably excited in En{^and. We 
think we have perceived a little of this, in his familiar ae- 
quaintance with the lighter works of Voltaire, whom he 
sometimes quotes ; for instance, at p* 355, vol. i. one of the 
fastances of the admirable satire or that celebrated wit, and 
we could not help imagining that there was a secret solace, 
in recurring from any thing that might be offensive at the 
monseot, to the recollection of the wit and sarcasm which hsd 
been exerted on the other side. There are als9 some re- 
marks on the use of the word eharhLtanerie in the Edto- 
burgh Review, while speaking of some transaction in Franc^ 
as if, he remarks very justly, there was no such thing ss 
•quackery in England, and no word to express it. 

His descriptions of England are very good. The roads, the 
inns, the cultivation, the movement of the population, tbt 
splendour and number of the villas, the neatness of the coun- 
try houses and cottages appear to have struck him, as they 
must e\ery stranger, with admiration. His account of Scet- 
land and Wales is very full, the scenery of the lakes of Cum- 
berland is minutely given, perhaps a little too much so. Thit 
volumes are ornamented with many plates of ruins and na- 
tural scenery, from drawings by the author, which are finely 
executed. We shall now proceed to make copious ex- 
bracts with a few occasional remarks. 

* January 8. We arrived at Bath last night. The 
chaise drew up in style at the White Hart. Two well- 
dressed footmen were ready to help us to alight, present- 
ing an arm on each side. Then a loud bell on the stairs, 
and lights carried before us to an elegantly furnished sit- 
ting room, where the fire was already biasing. In a few 
minutes, a neat looking chamber-maid, with an ample 
white aj>ron, pinned behind, came to offer her services t* 
the ladies, and shew the bed-rooms. In less than half aS 
hour, five powdered gentlemen burst into the room with 
the dishes, &c. and two remained to wait. I give this as a 
sample of the best or rather the finest inns. Our biU Wll 





Travels in Et^lanJ^ 

llfl. sterling, dinner for three, tea, beds and breakfast. 
She BervanlB have no wages, — but depending on the gene> 
rosily of Iravellers, Ihey find it Iheir interest lu please 
them. They, Ihe servants, coat us abuut five shillings k 
tbty. 

~ ' This morning we have explored Ihe tow n> which h cer- 
inl; very beautiful. It is built of freestone of a fine 
ream-colour, and contains several publick edifices in good 
ate. We remarked a circular place called Ihe Crescent, 
lolher called (he Circus; — all the streets straight and 
tgulai'. The town looks aa if it had been cast in a mould 
e ; BO new, so fresh, and regular. The building 
liere the medical water is drunk, and where the baths are, 
Jlibits verj dJITerent objects ; human nature, old, infirm 
|kI in ruins, or weary and enniiy^. Bath is a sort of great 
mastery, inhabited by single people, particularly super- 
mtiated females. No trade, no manufactures, no orcupa- 
|om of any sort, except that of killing lime, Ihe most labo- 
loua of all. Half of Ihe inhabitants do nothing, the other 
Inlf Bupplies them with nothings ; — niullitndes of splendid 
BopSfiuIl of all Ihat weallti ami luxury can desire, arranged 
pilh all the arts of seduction. 

'Being in haste, and not equipped for the place, we left 
k at three o'clock, dined and slept fourteen miles off, on Ihe 
rect road to London. During our ride we saw a little 
a appear among the willows, in the vale below. I 
laked a woman at Ihe tbil-gate what the name of it was : 
"Sore, sir, the Avon." It is not easy to avoid failing in 
Ifespect to English rivers, by mistaking them for mere rivu- 
lets. 1 have beard an Englishman who was amusing him- 
self with Ihe ignorance prevalent in foreign countries, tell a 
Mory of a lady who said to him, " Have you In England 
any rivers like this ?" (the Seine ;) but intenupttng herself, 
kdded laughingly, '* Good God, how can I be so silly, it is an 
island ; there are no rivers !" ! really think the lady was 
Bol so very much in the wrong. 

' The country is beautiful, rich, and vf'^jed, with villas 
snd mansions, and dark groves of pines, — shrubs In full 
bloom, evergreen lawns, and gravel walks so neat — with 

Sorter's lodges built in rough cast, and stuck all over with 
ints, in Ihelr nalive grotesqiieiieas; for this part of Kng- 
land is a great bed of chalk, full of Ihts singular produclion, 
^flints.) They are broken to pieces with hammers and 



I 



S46 TrmeU in BngUmi. [Janwiy. 

spread over the road in deep bedi, foraBing a hard and eireii 
surface, upon which the wheels of carriages make no ion 
pretsion. The roads are now wider, kept in good repair,' 
and not deep, notwilhstanding the season. The post- 
horses excellenti and post-boys riding, instead of sitting* 
Our rate of travelling does not exceed six miles an hour, 
stoppages included ; but we might go faster if we desired it^ 
We meet with verj few post-chaises, but a great many 
stage-coaches, mails, &c. and enormous broad waggons* 
The comfort of the inns is our iucessant theme at night, the 
pleasure of it is not yet worn out.' 

• The concise sketch of Bath is correct ; it is the para- 
dise of invalid men and womisn, whose most important occu- 
palion is playing at whL»t. There is more good architecture 
at Bath in private buildings than in any town in the worid* 
There was, however, a great deformity in one of the squares 
a few years since, which may still exist. A small obelisk 
stood in the centre^ about thirty feet high. The ground 
had been raised so as to bury up the pedestal, and the 
taper shaft grew up through the grass, not unlike a young 
shoot of asparagus. The wit about the river, which is not 
without foundation, recalls to mind another jest. A French* 
man remarked to an Englishman at Paris while looking at 
the Seine, * you have no such river as this at London.'— 

* No, replied the other, we had, but we filled it up,' (mean- 
ing Shoreditch.) 

* January. The weather is called here very cold (SO* 
or 22^ of the thermometer of Fahrenheit :) the serpentine 
river is covered with skaiters, some of them first rate ones* 
Ladies crowd to contemplate the human form divine- 
strength, grace, and manly beauty. There is certainly 
much to admire in this respect in the class of gentlemen in 
England, which is not only handsomer, but stronger than 
the labouring class both of town and country. It appeaiv 
to me that it was the reverse in France, and that geBtlencn 
in general were rather inferiour in bodily faculties to com* 
try men and town labourers. This difference may be ss- 
cribed to the practice of athletick amoseoients beiii^ nock 
more general in England — much moreapartof educatioo; 
and to the circumstance of the young men being introduced 
later to the society of women in England than in France- 
That society, when of the modest sort, induces sedentary 
habits — and when otherwise, has still wone coMcgM 



Travels i 



BngTdni, 



taste for (he counlrj' might also serve lo account for (his 
I : a laale at least for those amusements which are only 
mil in the conniry — i^poriiDg, fishing, and horses. The 
ibiunable part of the town is deserted one half of the 
r, and ihiii bull not at all the pleasanteat one ; but that 
the ahoi'Iesl days, the darkest sky, and the coldedt 
itier — that ia li> say, all winier till March ; sjieniling 
he spring, which is said to be very beautiful in Eiig- 
id, bui is not the season of field spurts, amidst the dnst 
d smoke of London. Such is the kind of attraction 
lich IS here fouud in the country. 

Weitmiiiater Abbey is seen to advantage from the parks, 
Gulhicic towers risinu; above the summits of the trees. 
Palace of St. James, situated at the entrance of 
park of that name, is a paltry looking building of 
possible appearance, and half consumed by 
impossible to conceive any thing worse of the 
lace kind. We are apt to lend form and colour to those 
kjecis of which we have always heard, but have never 
ften; and I own I had built in my mind a very different 
■ort of palace for the Court of Si. James's — so rich and so 
proud. This royal residence was erected by Henry VIIl.' 

»The conslani habit of manly exercises, tield sports, rid- 
{ng, walking, &c. is the cause of (he alhietick make and gene- 
bI fine appearance of the gentlemen of England, as is more 
Uan once remarked by the author. The comparative in- 
dolence of young men in America, and the exhausling, 
tirutalizing use of lohacco, are the causes of their inferiour 
•ppearance. It may be asserted, that on an average an 
English gentleman takes three times as much exercise, as 
an American one. And we fear that of all parts of Ihe 
United States, there is none where manly exercise ia less 
teken, and the consequences more visible, than in Boston. 
Bow few of our young men are in the habit of riding on 
boTBeback, and as to walking ! a walk of three or four miles 
ii apt lo excite their surprise, and a feeling of somelhing 
like degradation at being seen on fool off Ihe pavement. 

* February 17. We have been a whole month in Lon- 
don, and for Ihe last three weeks I have set down nothing 
in ibis journal. It is not as might be supposed, from hav- 
ing been (oo much taken up, or too Utile. A French trav- 
eller once remarked pagaciously, that there is a malady pe- 
culiar (p the climate of England, called the catck cold ; 



S4» TraUU in Englami. [Juamy 

thii maladjy under the modern title of mflnenBi bai recent- 
Ij afflicted all London, and we have been attacked by iU 
A friend of ourt, who had come to London on purpoae 
to receive ua, has been obliged to fl j precipitately : otnera 
dare not come. The let ten we brought have not procui^ 
cd many useful or agreeable acquaintances^-some en them 
have not been followed by the aiightetf act of politeness ; 
and although we have to acknowledge the attention of some 
persons, their number is very small, and we feel alone in 
the crowd. London is a giant — strangera can only reach 
his feet. Shut up in our apartments, well warmed, and 
well lighted, and where we seem to want nothing but a little 
of that immense society in the midst of which we are sus- 
pended, but not mixe<i, we have full leisure to^ observe Its 
outward aspect and general movements, and listen to the 
roar of its waves, breaking around us in measured tiaie» like 
the tides of the ocean I 

•* Tin plewiant throDgfa the loop-holet of retreat 
To peep at rach a world^to lee the itir 
Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd ; 
To hear the roar she sends through all her gates 
At a safe distance." 

' In the morning all is calm, — not a mouse stirring before 
ten o'clock ; the shops then begin to open. Milk-women» 
wiih their pails perfectly neat, suspenoed at the Jtwo ep* 
tremities or a yoke, carefully fitted to shape the shoulders, 
and surrounded with small tin measures of cream, ring at 
every door, with reiterated pulls to hasten the Blai<l-Be^ 
vants, who come half asleep to receive a measure as big as* 
an egg, being the allowance of a family ; for it is necessary 
to explain that milk is not here either food or drink, but 
a tincture — an elixir exhibited in drops five or six at most, 
in a cup of tea morning and evening. It would bo difficalt 
to say what taste or what quality these drops may isqiart; 
but so it is, and nobody thinks of questioning the proprie* 
ty of the custom. Not a single carriage, — not a cart are 
seen passing. The first considerable stir is the dram and 
military musick of the guards, marching from their barracb 
to Hyde Park, having at their head three or four negro 
giants, striking, high, gracefully, and strong the reaouncSq; 
cymbal. About three or four o'clock the faahionahk 
world gives some signs of life, issuing forth lo pay visits, 



]916«] TravtU in tSnglaiUl, fi49 

or rather leave cards at the door of their friends, never 
seen but in the crowd of assemblies ; to go to sbops^ see 
•ights, or lounge iu Bond-street, an ugly, inconvenient 
street, the attractions of which it is difficult (o under* 
stand. At five or six they return home to dress for din- 
ner. The streets are then lighted from one end to the 
other, or rather edged on either side with two long lines of 
little brightish dots, indicative of light, but yielding in fact 
very little ; — these are the lamps. They are not sua- 
pended in the middle of the streets as at Paris, but fixed 
on irons eight or nine feet high, ranged along the houses* 
The want of reflectors is probably the cause of their giv- 
ing so little light. From six to eight the noise of wheels 
increases ; it is the dinner hour. A multitude of carriages 
with two eyes of flame staring in the dark before each of 
them, shake the pavement and the very houses, following 
and crossing each other at full speed. Stopping suddenly, 
a footman jumps down, runs to the door, and lifts the 
heavy knocker — gives a great knock — then several smaller 
ones in quick succession — then with all his might, flour- 
ishing as on a drum, with an art and an air, aud a deli- 
cacy of touch, which denote the qualHy, the rank, and the 
fortune of his master. 

* For two hours, or nearly, there is a pause ; at ten a 
redaubliment comes on. This is the great crisis of drefis, 
Boise, and of rapidity — a universal hubbub ; a sort of uni- 
form grinding and shaking, like that experienced in a great 
mill with fifty pair of stones ; and if I was not afraid of ap^ 
peariDg to exaggerate, I should say that it came upon the 
ear like the fall of Niagara, heard at two miles distance ! 
This crisis continues undiminished till twelve or one 
o'clock ; then less and less during the nighty — till at the 
approach of light a single carriage is heard now and then at 
a great distance. 

* Great assemblies are called routs or parties ; but the 
people who give them, in their invitations only say, that 
they will be at home such a day, and this some weeks be- 
forehand. The house in which this takes place is fre- 
quently stripped from top to bottom ; beds, drawers, and 
aSlt but ornamental furniture is carried out of sight, to make 
zoom for a crowd of well-dressed people, received at the 
4oor of the principal apartment by the mistress of the bouse 
standing, who smiles at every new comer with a look of 

Vol. II. No. 5. 32 



2150 Travels in England. [Janaaiy, 

acquaintance. Nobody sits. There is no conversation, 
DO cards, no music k, only elbowing, turning and winding 
from room to room : then at the end of a quarter of an 
hour, escaping to the hall door to wait for the carriagCi spend- 
ing mora time upon the threshold among footmen, than yoa 
had done above stairs with their masters. From this rout 
you drive to another, where after waiting your turn to ar- 
rive at the door, perhaps half an hour, the street being full 
of carriages, you alight, begin the same round and end it 
in the same manner. The publick knows there is a party 
in a house by two signs ; first an immense crowd of car- 
riages before the house, — then every curtain and every 
shutter of every window wide open, shewing apartments \a 
a blaze of light with heads innumerable black or white, 
(powdered or not,) in continual motion. This custom it 
so general, that having a few days ago, five or six persons 
in the evening with us, we observed our servant had left 
the windows thus exposed, thinking no doubt, that this was 
a rout after our fashion. 

* Such may be, it will be said, the life of the rich, the well- 
born and the idle, but it cannot be that of many of the 
people ; of the commercial part for instance, of this em- 
porium of the trade of the universe. The trade of London 
IS carried on in the east part of the town, called, par excel- 
lence, the city. The west is inhabited by people of fash- 
ion, or tho««e who wish to appear such ; and the line of 
demarkation, north and south, runs through Soho Square* 
Every minute of longitude east, is equal to as many de- 
grees of gentility mintiSj or towards west plus. This me- 
ridian line north and south, like that indicated by the 
compass, inclines west towards the north, and east towards 
the south, two or three points, in such a manner, as to place 
a certain part of Westminster on the side of fashion; the 
Parliament house, Downing street, and the Treasury are 
necessarily genteel. To have a right to emigrate from east 
to west, it is requisite to have at least 3000{ sterling a 
year ; should you have less, or at least spend less, you 
might find yourself, slighted, and 6000{ a year would be 
safer. Many, indeed, have a much narrower income, who 
Were born there ; but city emigrants have not the same 
privileges. The legitimate people of fashion affect pover- 
ty, even to distinguish themselves from the rich intruders* 



1816.] Travds in England. 251 

It is citizen^like f o be at esuse about nionej, and to pay rear 
diljr on deoiaod.' 

This description of the noise and routine of the west 
parr of the town is given accurately. The rattling and bustle 
for so many hours of the nighr, may appear exaggerated to 
those who haTe never witnessed it, still it is a faithful pic- 
ture. Of all senseless and tiresome amusements, an English 
rout stands foremost ; it has but one single recommenda* 
tion, and even this to most people would be the very re* 
▼erse, which is a crowd. Like the clown, that could not 
«ee the city for the houses, no one can be seen here for the 
crowd; there is no conversation, no musick, no refreshments,. 
«Dd not even the possibility of sitting down. It is not won- 
derful that men should be reluctant to go to them, women, 
18 the author observes elsewhere, are three times as nu* 
merous. 

In speaking of customs at table, he observes, p. 47, that 
among polite people the awkward custom of drinking healths 
all round the table, is abolished, as indeed it cannot be done 
now, since introductions of the company to each other are 
not common. — * This custom of introducing is losing ground 
' every day ; and in fact, the height of fashion is to banish 
' every thing like ghu and ceremony. This is certainly 
' very well ; but some people go a little farther, and under 
' pretence of ease, every appearance of mutual good<-will is ex* 
' eluded. Voltaire has said somewhere, ^' qui n^est que juste 

* est dur** 1 would add, qui n'est quefranz est brutal. True 
' politeness, I presume, is merely benevolence in small 
' things, which costs so little, and requires so few sa* 
' orifices, that it is not worth while to dispense with it. 
' When politeness promises no more, it is consistent with 

* perfect sincerity. The manners of those who have that 
' sort of politeness, resemble each other in all countries, 
' while the arbitrary politeness of fashion is more local* 

Fashionable people in England are very apt to be inso- 
' lent — in France probably impertinent.' 

There is much just reflection in these remarks, and the* 
conclusion is perfectly true. The tope of manners in Eng* 
land is often embarrassing to a stranger^ there is so much 
coldness, so little officfousness, so much reserve, and so lit- 
tle sympathy, that the situation when new is often irksome, 
and a foreigner unaccustomed to such reception is apt to 
fiuicy that, which is the general practice, to be peculiarly di- 



2S2 Travds in England. [Januirf, 

fccfed againit bim. Nothing can be more qpreeable than * 
'Well-bred tone of perfect ease, and absence of ceremonyt 
even though it borders on careless indiiference, when it ia 
exercised among acquaintance. But it is often, in the case 
of strangers, carried too for : and the coarse imitations of 
this st^ie of society, that are too frequently met with, af« 
downright rudeness and vulgarity. This fashion of leav- 
ing every one wholly to themselves, is sometimes not unlike 
a kind of coffee-hoose intercourse. People not being intro- 
duced to each other, it happens that this is often a plea fiar 
neglect, and a stranger may find himself at a gentleman'a 
table, where an address to his neighbour whom he baa ne^ 
ver seen before, will be met very much in the manner it 
would be in a publick room. At a roflfee-house it wiH often 
happen that two persons, gentlemen at least in appearance, 
may dine at the same table, each his separate dinner, drink 
fh«?ir bottle each, and rise without ever saying a word to 
each other. This could happen in no other country in the 
world. A foreigner requires practice to assume these habits, 
bnt after a few twitches of the nerves, which his experience 
may cost him, he adapts himself to the manners he finds. 
Indeed it may be taken as a general truth, we speak now 
of society in London and the watering places, that every 
Englishmajp is suspicious of one of two things in his aoeet- 
tng with every face he does not know ; either that his rank 
or his pocket will suffer, and this suspicion produces a uni- 
versal tone of negative defiance. Or course this feeling of- 
ten shewn from inferiours to superiours, without their know- 
ing them to be so, is fruitful of ridiculous situ^ipns. 

Under this head we may relate an anecdote which} 
though rather a peculiar case, yet is characteristick of mv^h 
of fashionable life. A gentleman was invited by a lady to 
an evening party ; he went, paid his compliments to heri 
was introduced to no one, knew no person in the room, 
and of course was very soon completely abandoned to 
himself; He after a time entered into a conversation with a 
gentleman standing rather solitary by the fire place. He en- 
quired of him the names of several persons, to all of which 
he received a similar though polite answer, that he did not 
know them. The other then told him, Sir you seem to 
be in the same situation with myself, and aa it ia some 
what dull here, suppose we should go to a coffee-houae 
together and i^ke a bottle of wine to get rid of the evew^ 



Travels in England. 

The other remarked that he sliould be very happy 
:cepl his proposal, but iT he went out, it might be ob- 
rved and appear eirange, as it was — bis own huiiue ! 
' I have been carried to one of the Hospitals of this ^e&t 
auppoi'led by \o[unlai'y eonlribulions. I shall relate 
ifaat I Hanr. The phyitician, scaled al a table in a large 
II on the ground floor, with a re^isier before bim, ordered 
e donr to be opened ; a crowd of miserable objects, woin- 
:, pushed in, and ranged thetnselves along the wall ; he 
nked in his hook and called them lo him successively, 
Irh s one ! The poor wietch leaving her wall, crawled 
e table. " How is your catarrh ?" " Please your hon- 
no otTence I hope, it is the asthma. I have no rest 
nor ilay, and — "Ah, ao il is the asthma; il ia 
ttinebody else who has the catarrh. Well, yoti have been 
tdered (o take, &c," — "Yes, Sir, but I grow worse and 
rse, and" — " That is nothing, you must go on with it." — 
111, Sir, indeed I cannot." — " Enough, enough, good wo- 
1, I cannot listen to you any more ; many palienta lo get 
>ugfa this morning, — never do to hear (hem talk, — go and 
; your draught, &c." The catarrh woman made way 
r a long (rain of victims of consumption, cases of fever, 
ropsy, scrofula, and some disorders peculiar lo women, 
detailed withoul any ceremony, before young sludenfa, 
Thia melancholy review of human iniirmities, was suddenly 
interrupted by the unexpected entrance of a surgeon, fol- 
* wed by several young men, carrying a piece of bloody 
sJi on adish. "A curious case," Ihey esclaimed, placing 
B dish on the table ; " an ossification of Ihe lungs I such 
■ AIM, who died yesterday, — just opened. Thia i^ liie state 
his lungs. See these white needles like fishbones, 
rating through here and there ; — moat curious indeed." 
jTfaen Ihey handled, and cut open, and held up between (he 
eye and the light, these almost palpitating remains of a 
creature who breathed yesterday. The symptoms of his 
disorder, and ihe circumstances of hia dealb, were freely 
talked over, and accurately described in the hearing of Ihe 
consumptive patients, who fell, 1 dare say, ibe bony need- 
lea pricking their own lungs at every brealh ihey drew, and 
^nlence of dealh pronounced. 



•The 



being despatched, twenty or Ibirty male 



|tectres came in, and underwent tbe same sort of summary 
Ktamijiatioo. Tbe only case 1 recollect was, that of a man 



^354 Travels in Et^land* [Jannarj, 

mttacked with violent palpitations, accompanied with great 
pain in the shoulderji. His heart was felt beating hard 
through the sternum, or even under the ribs on the right 
aide. His heart has 'moved from its place ! The unhappj 
man thrown back on an armchair — bis breast uncovereij — 
pale as death — ^6xed his fearful ejes on the physicians, who 
auccessivelj came to feel the pulsations of the breast, and 
reason on the cause. They seemed to me to agree among 
themselves, that the heart had been pushed on one side 
by the augmentation of the bulk of the viscera ; and that 
the action of the aorta was impeded thereby. The case 
excited much attention, but no great appearance of com^ 
passion. They reasoned long on the cause without advert- 
ing to the remedy till after the patient had departed, when 
he was called back from the door and cupping prescribed t 
* The medical men next proceeded to visit the resident 
patients. I followed. The apartments were clean and 
•■pacious, and the sick not crQwded, which is no doubt of the 
greatest importance. I was shocked, however, with the 
•ame appearance of insensibility and precipitatbn* 

lA le long de ces Ills oft ggmit le malheui^ 
Victimes des secoars plus que de la doulenr, 
LMgnorance en coiirant fait sa ronde homicide, 
LMudifference abserre at le basarde decide. 

There is, however, more indifference than ignorance here ; 
for in no part of the world, is the art of medicine carried 
farther than in London ; and without being at all qualified 
to judge, the mere circumstance of this art and those who 
practice it, being so much more respected here, than in 
France, is sufficient to convince me of their superiority. 
In France surgery is honoured, while medicine is slighted. 
Moliere has much to answer for this ; and if Shakespeare 
had taken it into his head to laugh at physicians, there is no 
knowing how they would fare in England at this day.' p. 15. 
This account is a little severe, the dissection part of it 
was disgusting cruelty to the wretched patients around. A 
certain degree of indifference is engendered by familiaritr 
with any scenes ; but the harshness towards the patienn 
was perhaps rather apparent than real, and a degree of 8^ 
verity in decision may become necessary. A spectator, un* 
accustomed to such sights, who sees a hospital or a baltief 
may be appalled at the accumulation of so much aufferiiifr 



1816.} Travels in England. 25« 

and be disposed to accuse the actors of more crueltj, than 
they really deserve. 

The following are some very just reflections on the Eng- 
lish Theatre. 

* The crude trash of these popular plays affords a fair 
sample of the whole modern British stage, which is rather 
below the level of the exhibitions at fairs, which 1 recollect 
having seen in France twenty or thirty years ago. They 
made me laugh sometimes, and might do so still ; and far 
from an unwillingness to yield to risibility, it is always a great 
comfort to me, when^ happen to find, that I am not quite a 
stranger to that most valuable faculty of our species. But 
really, if it was ever wise to have been ashamed of having 
laughed at any thing, there might be some reason here. 
Yoltau'e said, that the language of English comedy is the 
language of debauchery, not of politeness. Muralt ascribes 
the corruption of manners in London to comedy as its chief 
cause ; he says, it is like that of no other country ; the 
school in which the youth of both sexes familiai'ize them^ 
selves with vice, never represented there as vice, but as 
gayety. As for comedies, says Diderot, they have none ; 
they have instead satires, full indeed of gayety and strength, 
but without morals, and without delicacy. We have, finally, 
the opinion of Lord Kaimes, who observes, that if the 
comedies of Congreve did not rack him with remorse in 
his last moments, he must have been lost to all sense of 
Tirtue. 

' For myself, however, I must confess, that I have hitherto 
seen no very bad morals on the stage — but a great deal of 
▼ery bad taste. There is on the contrary, in most modern 
plays, fine speeches about virtue and patriotism, brought 
m head and shoulders, and always vigorously applauded. 
This does credit to the moral sense of the publick : but I 
own I should like to see on the stage, something of these 
satires so full of strength and gaiety, of which Diderot 
speaks, and be introduced to that reprobate Congreve. 
<< The bad taste which precedes good taste," said Horace 
Walpole, "is preferable to that which follows." The dra- 
matick genius of the English franchit les distances^ with- 
out intermediate degrees. The English do not indeed de- 
fend their comedy ; they acknowledge that the best are 
coarse and indelicate, and for many years that nothing has 
appeared that is opt below mediocrity. The theatre they 



j856 Tra9€h in Bngkmd. [JtBnrj, 

Mj, is almost enfirslj abandoned by the upper ranks of 
^ society, the taste for the. stage is lost* It seems to me a 
aiisfortune ; for good comedy is a pastime more rational and 
amusing, than the insipid evenings of which I have given 
mn a4*Gount above,' p. 102. 

* England has just lost Mr. Windham. His death has 
been marked as his life was, with the originality ct bis 
character- He would undergo a cruel operation, against 
the advice of medical men, and prepared himself with great 
Courage, and a perfect knowledge of the danger, as appears 
by the letters he wrote, to be delivered in case of his 
<leath« It afforded probably the only chance for bis life. 
Mr. Windham has left a voluminous diary, which will be 
given to the publick some time or other. This illustrious 
man has excited so general an interest, that it became ne- 
cessary in the last days of his illness, to satisfy the pvbKck 
by a daily bulletin. His ftins are now forgiven, and alt parties 
agree in doing justice to his perfect disinterestedness, bis 
frankness, his generosity, his courage, his profound contempt 
of mere popularity, his knowledge, and eloquence. lie 
leavQs benind him no reputatbn equal to his ; but be leaves 
many men capable of being more solidly useful than he 
was ; and the state loses only a brilliant ornament. His 
fortune was about 6000 pounds a year, and all from patri- 
mony, not acquired.' p. 160. 

* After spending three days agreeably at Bury St. Ed- 
monds, we continued our journey towards London by 
Cambridge. I am inclined to think English society pleas- 
antest out of London. There is more leisure — as much in- 
formation, and manners equally good ; for nobody is pro- 
vincial in this country. You meet no where with those 
persons, who never were out of their native place, and 
whose habits are wholly local ; nobody above poverty, 
who has not visited London once in his life ; and most of 
those who can, visit it once a year. To go up to town 
from 100 to 200 miles distance, is a thing done on a snd* 
den, hn6 without any previous deliberation. In France) 
the people of the Provinces used to make their will before 
they undertook such an expedition. Cultivation of minii 
and elegance of manners, are more conspicuous compa* 
ratively among women than among men. There is more 
difference between the women of this country and those 
I have seen elsewhere, than between the men of the same 



1816.] Travels in .England. S57 

countries respectively. The men appear to me less univer-* 
sal than thej were in France, formerly at least ; but tbejr 
know better what thej do know. Thej are less apt to say 
every thing which comes into their beads, they think be- 
fore they speak, they have less vanity and more pride. — 
This IS wise and respectable, but does not form perhaps a 
state of society very amusing. The women are no less 
remarkable for their discretion and reserve ; but it is the 
reserve of modesty instead of that of pride; not voluntary 
and insurmountable. Commercial communications and ex- 
changes are not better established here, or upon an easier 
and more convenient footing, than mental ones. Science, 
anecdotes, politicks, fashions even the most frivolous, every 
thing that can interest the mind of all descriptions of per- 
sons who have any mind at all, circulates through its ap- 
Eropriate channel, day by day, week by week, or quarter 
y quarter, to the remotest corner of the country, as regu- 
larly and as abundantly as in London. Every body finds 
on his table at stated days and hours, the Newspaper, the 
Journal, or the Review, to which he subscribes ; and if he 
cannot afford to subscribe, he will at least find all these 
things at the circulating Library, the reading-room, or the 
book club of the next little town or village. He will know 
exactly, let his life be otherwise ever so obscure and solitary, 
what is going on, at least in Parliament, at the opera : what 
routs, births, death, marriagc^s, and elopements have taken 
place among people of consequence. Deeper works will 
give him the spirit and criticism of most literary novel- 
ties, or abstruse, edifying and amusing subjects* Novels 
in shoals will finally serve to fill up any portion of his time, 
and his whole life, if he pleases, wilh every variety of senti- 
mental distresses and pleasures the human faculties are capa^ 
ble of feeling. Poetry is so happily cultivated in England, the 
present generation particularly has produced so many ad- 
mirable specimens of it, that the feelings it imparts are be- 
come familiar. Women, with more time, more curiosity, 
and livelier feelings than men, know better how to avail 
themselves of these opportunities ; and the tincture of sci- 
epce, and literature, and of every accomplishment forming 
the habitual state, is in general unmixed with pedantry. 
It is an every day dress which they are at ease in, and 
does not unfit them for the common business of life, and the 
jjuties of their station. I do not know whether this light 
Vol. 11, No. 5« 33 



^K Trwh iM Ef^land. [January^ 

•nd e9Ay r«gimeD is, generallj speaking) calculated, to forn) 
atroog and original constitutions of mind ; such however, 
thrive under any managementi when the gerui and power is 
in ua : and England of all countiies in the world, shews the 
least signs of niental teeblenes and enervation among its 
iohabitants/ p. 185. 

We 6nd here, that we must either omit many of the ex- 
tracts which we had selected from this work, or some ob* 
nervations we intended to make from the recollections they 
suggested to us ; and as it is necessary to make a choice^ 
we have no hesitation ir sacriBcing our own remarks, to in- 
troduce larger portions of this very entertaining and rational 
observer's travels. There are some of his opinions in which 
we cannot entirely join ; but we admire the author's good^ 
sense and dispassionate mode of observing. We have ta- 
ken the extracts from various topiqks, and would with plea* 
sure have made them more numerous. We have however 
selected enough to give every reader a wish to peruse the^ 
work. 

^ As we get farther from London, I think I perceive mpff 
moderation iu political opinions : fewer people 8pea,k of 
revolution, either to wish or fear it, or believe the peppla 
ripe for it. T'le party of which Cobbett is the mouih-. 
piece, does not appear numerous out of the capital. The mas- 
terly caricatures of this Hogarth of the pen, so well known io^ 
America, are quite characteristick of the manners and gov- 
ernment of England. Foreigners who read some of the 
party publications which swarm from the English press, and 
particularly Cobbett, conceive certainly very erroneous 
opinions of the real state of things. I believed in America 
with many others, and I know that several persons at the 
head of the American government believe now, that Eng-. 
land is on the eve of a revolution, which it is supposed wifi 
free them from her maritime pretensions ; and if it is pos- 
sible to be so deceived in a country so similar to England, 
what must it be in France, where no adequate idea can ba 
formed of party exaggeration. Far from taking these party 
writers literally, I find the greatest part of the English puih 
. lick look upon them only as professed wrestlers, whose dis- 
play of strength and abilities interests and amuses them, bat 
whose object, besides the gratification of some malice and 
vanity, is merely money. They arc not believed sincere^ 
and Mfithput that belief there is do real persuitsioa* To be 



1816.] Tra^di in England. #56 

fuilj serisibib of this it is sufficient to observe, with how 
much more attention the dimple charge of the judge is list- 
letied to at the close of a trid, than all the eloquent plead" 
ings that preceded it. Mixed With abundance of undenia- 
ble facts, and under the garb of downright truth and honest 
surliness, Mr. Cobbelt deals out principles the most falla- 
cibiis, with great art, and wohderful force of popular elo. 
quence ; but his frequent and outrageous contradictions of 
his own principles h^ve, in a great degree, neutralized 
them. He is io receive judgment this daj, having beeh 
ttied for a libel, with intention to excite the troops to nlUtinj. 

* There is not another government in Europe who could 
loiig withstand the attacks to which this is continually ex- 
posed. The things published here would set on fire any 
other heads in the world ; but either from insensibility, 
reason, or habit, they, make but little impression. This 
Hort of insensibility extends in some degree to personal lit- 
tacks. Private anecdotes and secret stories are brought to 
light daily, of such a nature as ought to make the indiri* 
duals concerned so ashamed to show themselves, as abso- 
lutely to drive them from society for the rest of their lives. 
Nothing of the kind : — the neck is no sooner otit of the pil- 
Idry, and the shoulders hardly healed after the castigat<oa 
administered by the hands of newspaper writers, and dther 
practitioners in the art of abuse and invective, than the per- 
son appears in the world as if ndthing had happened. It 
is strange, that a people so proud, and certainly full as moral 
ifs their neighbours, should show this strange callousness/ 
p. 202. 

* July 27. On our way from St. Asaph's to Denbigh, 
We stopped at the house of a gentleman we had seen in Nor- 
folk; be was not at home, but one of the ladies of the fami- 
ly accompanied us to Denbigh. From this house the view 
takes in the whole valley of Clwydd, (pronounced Cluid) 
20 or 30 miles long, and about 6 broad, with hills of mode- 
rate abd irrej^ular height on each side. A great number of 
gentlemen's houses were in sight, with their usual accom- 
paniments of wood and lawn, but no cottages, — 1 mean real- 
dwellings of the poor. If there ever was here a revolution 
in la FrancoisCf declaring gnetre aux chateaux^ paix aux 
thaumiereSf the castles would certainly carry it, being a 
tinndred to one. This general appearance of the country^ 
brings to my mind a bon mot of Carlin, the fainous harl^ 



2tMI Travels in Englm^n [Janotry, 

quia. ^ Q,uel dommage que le pere Adam ne se soit pts 
avi86 d'acfaeter une charge de Secretaire du Roi — noui 
seriona loua nobles !' 1 do not know what office the Father 
Adam of England bought, but every body in it seems rich. 
Whenever I have asked proprietors of land, or fiurmers, 
why they did not build houses for their labourers, the an- 
swer has generally been, that such houses are nests of ver- 
min, pilferers, and poachers ; and that far from buildiug, 
they would rather pull down such houses. The labourers 
reside in some smsdl town or village in the neighbourhood. 
Denbigh, for instance, has doubled in extent within a few 
years by this accession of inhabitants. Labourers have 
often several miles to walk to and from their work, which 
is so much out of their labour or out of their rest. This, I 
own, has lowered a little my ideas of universal felicityi 
which the appeai'ance of this country encourages one to 
form. There are then it seems obscure corners, where the 
poor are swept out of the way, as the dust of the walka of 
the rich, in a heap out of their sight ; and, to judge proper- 
ly of this general prosperity, it would be necessary to see 
what passes in these abodes of the labouring class.' p. 221. 

'This is a town (Edinburgh) of 90 or 100,000 inhabi- 
faots,^ the tenth part of London, in three distinct divisions; 
the old and the new town, side by side, with the wide ditch 
between ; then the port (seaport) at about a mile distance, 
on the Frith of Forth. The shops, tradesmen and labour- 
ers are mostly in the old town. The college is there also, • 
but learning begins to be attracted by politeness, and the 
professors come to live in the region of good dinners and 
fine ladies. From a height (Caltoq Hill) in the new town, 
which overlooks the dark, dull and dirty assemblage of the 
old houses of the old town, strangers are shewn with a mix- 
ture of pride and pity, the back of the humble abode of 
Adam Smith, and the place where he composed, walking to 
and fro, his work on the Wealth of JNations. Not far ofl^is 
the house inhabited lately by another celebrated professor, 
but, who happily for his country, has not taken his place 
yet among the great men who are no more, 

' The environs of Edinburgh as well as the scite on which 
it is built, present accidents of high geological interest; 

* In 1687, Edinburgh bad only 20,000 inhabitanta. It is an increast 
Dearly equal to our American cities. 



18160 Travels in England. 261 

masses of rocks protruding the soil, rise abruptly to great 
heights. Caiton Hili, already mentioned in the new town, is 
three hundred and fifty feet high ; the rock of the castle in 
the old town about as much ; and close to the town Ar- 
thur's seat about eight hundred feet high. . In the space 
of two or three miles, south and west, the surrounding 
country is herissi with eight or ten similar protuberances^ 
each four or five hundred feet high. These masses are of a 
basaltick nature, and assume in many places the prismatick 
form ordinary to that substance. These rocks are less inter- 
esting to the painter than to the naturalist, they do not unite 
well with the country, and.: are either too uniform or too 
grotesque. 

< This is in every respect a singular town. The new 
part is placed in the middle of a beautiful and fertile coun- 
try, without suburbs or shabby approach, like other towns 
which have grown by degrees. This one was cast in a 
mould, — created all at once, within the memory of half 
its inhabitants ; for when this fine bridge which now unites 
the two towns, was built in 1769, the new town did not ex- 
ist, or only three or four houses of it. Houses are shewn in 
the old town, where persons of the first consequence lived, 
not a great many years ago, now only deemed fit for the 
lowest tradesmen or labourers. I find in the statistical pro- 
gress of the capital of Scotland, by Sir John Sinclair, com- 
paring its state in the year 1763 and 1793, several very 
Gorious facts. Lord Drummore's house was left by a chair-^ 
man for want of accommodation ; that of the duke of Doug- 
las is now occupied by a wheelwright; Oliver Cromwell 
once lived in the late gloomy chamber of the Sheriif 's clerk ; 
the great marquis of Argyle^s house was possessed by a 
hosier, at the rent of twelve pounds per annum. These 
facts indicate a great revolution in the manner of life of all 
ranks of people — a revolution which most people of an ad-* 
vanced age deplore — which the new generation exults in ; — 
and which has its advantages and di^dvantages ; the for- 
mer, however, undoubtedly preponderate. There cannot 
be any great harm in having a little more space and cleanli- 
ness in thejr dwellings ; in spending their evenings at plays 
and concerts rather than at taverns ; in dining at the hour 
when they used to sup, and using umbrellas ia a country 
where it raias so often.' p. 266. 



aes Tnveh in Mlnglma. [Jaikatryi 

< Sept. 1. To KilKo, oolj twentj-one mites to-day, through 
much the same sort of country as yesterday ; glen alter 
glen'— f^reen and bare and deserted, with towering hills all 
round ; one of them seemed to have the form of an immense 
crater — a hollow cup — but all the detached masses beko# 
were granite and schistus, and nothmg volcanick. Beautiful 
pieces of quartz lay about every where. Some of the bills 
could not be less than two thousand feet high. The Tay^ 
an inconsiderable mountain torrent, descended with us the 
whole day. The question occurs naturally in traversing 
these solitudes, where are the men ? where are the Highlan- 
ders i and if you are told that the system of sheep farming 
has banished them from their country, then you would btf 
apt to ask where are the sheep? Very few indeed are 
seen ; the frass is evidently not half eaten down— hardly 
touched indeed, in many places. We met to-day, how- 
ever, with several habitations, and we entered some of 
them ; a small present was willingly received, and served aa 
a passport to our curiosity* The only door is common t6 
men and beasts, and of course very dirty. You see as yoa 
come in, on one side, a small stable, which seems very onne^ 
cessary, since in the much more rigorous climate of North 
America, cattle have commonly no shelter in winter. The 
other side is separated by a rough partition ; this is tha 
dwelling-place of the family ; you find in it nOt a chimtiey, 
but a fire-place on the ground, with a few stones round it, 
immediately under a hole in the roof; a hook and a chair 
fastened to a stick, to hapg an iron kettle on ; a deal table} 
a piece of board on which oat cakes are prepared ; a dresser 
with some little earthen ware; an old press; a pickliiig' 
tub for mutton ; some pieces of mutton hung in the amokej 
which winds round them on its way to the roof; a shetf 
with many cheeses, and among the cheeses a few books. 
The title of one of them was, ^ Searmona le Mr. Eobhana 
Mac Diarmud, ministeir ann in Glascho, agus na Dheigh 
stnancornu. Duneidin du Bhuaiste le Islenau 1814/ 
Another was a catechism, also in the Erse or Gaelick, and a 
Bible in English. The beds were a filthy matrasi, and ft 
filthy blanket, — no sheets, no floor — only the ground trod- 
den hard : a window (rf* four small panes, not one entirft^ 
3uch is the interiour ; and to finish the picture of these 
hovels, each has its ladder against the roof; either to stop 
the progress of fire, when the thatch happens to catch, or 



.1816.} Travels tn England. 268 

a leak» which they do bj means of a few sodg. Some of 
the raofs bore a luxuriant crop of grass. This is abject po- 
verty, oral least appears so ; yet these people feei no want, 
and enjoy health, which is more than many do who are rich. 
Their poverty does not seem to extend to food, for they 
have plenty of fish from their lakes and rivers; and one 
acre of potatoes can feed a family. They have also a 
small field of oats ; meat is not probably very scarce near 
such flocks of sheep, and I saw hogs to-day. Fuel is at 
their door. Labour is paid 2s. 6d. or 38. a day. With 
such means of subsistence} I do not understand what the 
Highlanders gain by migrating to America. With some 
laiiour they can procure here, what is not ta be had there 
without labour. There are schools here every where; 
children learn to read in English and Erse ;t but the last 
language alone is in common use.' p. 303. 

* The day was very fine, an uncommon circumstance, 
and the sun setting in full splendour, spread over the won- 
derful landscape of Loch Katrine its richest tints, ^* one bur* 
Dished sheet of living gold.'' 

^Returning through the Trosacks, they appeared ta 
more advantage; and we remarked a narrow and wild pass 
on the left, along the base of Benledi, which we pronounc- 
fd to be the very spot of the> ambuscade of Rhoderick 
Dbu,— the whole scene between him and Fitz James wafi 
before us. I wi^h it was possible to convey in the French 
fauBguage, something of the bleauty of this description, un- 
paralleled for vigour and truth of painting, — for simple, ener- 
getick and just expression, — for generosity and heroism of 
sentiments, and even for strength of reasoning. But, in 
translating into French verse, you must submit to lose the 
poetry — if into prose the harmony of the original ; and al- 
though there can be no hesitation in the choice, yet it is a 
graat deal to lose. The mechanical harmony of verse, is 
to the sense, exactly what harmony in musickis to melody^ 
True poets in France write in prose. First among them I 
should certainly qame Jean Jaques Rousseau, who wrote 
nothing legible in verse ; the author of Paul and Virginia-r- 
of Telemaque— of Corinne. If poetry was only what the 
dictionary of tl^ aciidemy calls it, Vart is fairt des 
cuvrages en vers^ or according to Johnson's definition, 
metrical compasiiian^ then indeed these writers were no 
poets. 9at ibey were eminently so^ if poetry is (he art of 



964 Trmdi in England. [Janatrj^ 

exciting the im^ioation, either bj a representation of ma- 
terial objects, or bjr an imitation of the language of our pas- 
siorn and our affections, and in doing this with the truth of 
nature, in a manner that all maj feel who are capable of 
feeling ; — awakening the dormant powers of the mind to 
new ideas and sentiments, and giving them an impube 
which goes further than the written thought, as fire is 
kindled by a spark. This idea was most Itappilj expressed 
in the Edinburgh Review of GampbelPs Gertrude 'of Wy- 
oming. * The highest delight, which poetry produces, does 
not arise from the mere passive perception of the images or 
sentiments which it presents to the mind, but from the ex- 
citement which is given to its own internal activity, and the 
character which is impressed on the train of its spontaneous 
conceptions : and the true lover of poetry is often indebted 
to his author for little more than the first impulse, or the 
key note of a melody, which his fancy makes out for itself.' 

* A work of genius often fixes the attention of the reader 
less than a merely good work, and not more than a bad one, 
although from a very different cause. The mind is carried 
away from the ideas and sentiments expressed in the first, 
by those it suggests, it slumbers over the last, and gives its 
full and undivided attention to the second. 

* The Poetry of almost all foreign nations is different 
from the French ; and those who are acquainted with the 
latter only, can scarcely form an idea of what is meant by 
poetry — that wondrous art of awakening the mind to strong 
emotions, by happy expressions, and words of magick im- 
port, arranged in measured and harmonious lines ;-^-of fixiog 
as they pass some few of those fleeting, nameless thoughtsi 
that swell the heart and dim the eyes ; and as the crowd of 
strange forms, creatures of another world, and deeds of 
hands unseen, rush on the mind like a mighty torrent, of 
snatching a few drops from the hurrying stream, and giviog 
a colour and a name to the invisible creation. 

< I have often wondered at the very great inferiority of aR 
translations of works of imagination. Thoughts, it seemS) 
which are not mere matter of fact, or simple deductionfl 
from facts, owe more to the manner of expressing theiO) 
than to their own intrinsick merit. To say differently, bot 
equally well, what has been happily said before, " is ofien 
difficult and frequently imposMble5 even in the same Iuh 
guagOt" <* Crtduni homines" said Bacon, '< nUionOH 



«tiani, verbis imperare, sed Jit etiani, ut itrba vhn suam 
■super rationem relorqueant." ' p. a:ii 

Tlie amuaemenls aniJ waj ef lite in Edinburgh are, as 
tnay be Bupposed, as close an imilation of (lie maiuibrs and 
fashions of Loadon, as lelative ciiiiUmslances of H'«s]lii, 
niunbera, &c. can adtnil. London U Ihe head qiiart«rB of 
trade, of financial operation'^, and Ihe focus of faclions. Kdin* 
burgh is not only a stranger lo liade and money niallers, 
but (he only political parly Iheie ia the party of obedience 
^nd loyally. Theie are wbiga, and I am luld that tlie ma- 
joiiry of the legal and ihe lileraiy men are of ihal parly, but 
moderately so. You meei wilh few of Ihe dswnright re- 
formers amon^ the good coutpuay of Ediubur;!;!), and more 
among the lower people. A jacobin Tradesman ia here a 
phenomenon, and the individual geueraily a man of bad pri- 
vate character. 1 know Ihis /rom a. peraoti diKlio'guished in 
that party; he said ihe cainmoii people were all lories — 
that among Ihem, whiggism. was rank democracy. You 
^aras liltle liere about political IrafBck, as about commer- 
cial traffick ;flolhing is either bought or sold ; noneof Ihose 
yile pasaions nhich elsewhere disfigure society have here an 
aliment. People live in cooiparative mediocrity, without 
fear of losing what (hey have, or much hope of improving 
their fortune otherwise than by prudence and economy ; — 
those who thirst fur riches must seek them elsewhere. The 
result of all this is a certain general impression of peace 
and tranquillity, very striking lo slraogerHj but this repose 
ia oot slumber, — a pursuit of ditferent interest remains, lite- 
rature and the sciences which are cultivated wilh zeal and 
success. As lo what is called pleasure, there are here as- 
semblies in (lie London style made as numerous as possible; 
but nolwilhstanding the efibrts of a landnble emulation, the 
inhabitants of London being as ten lo one, Edinburgh 
routs catiDol, by the nature of things, arrive at a perfection 
ofcrowds e(|ual lo those of llie capilol. It is often possible 
(o sifiuid converse; cards, and even chess, are not quite 
excluded — you find generally one or I wo tables, wilh ihe 
pamphlets of Ihe day, rare and valuable books carelessly 
neaped up ; prinls, drawings, and even children's play 
tfaings, which some are glad to take hold of, by way of ap- 
jraaring amused, when they are leasl disposed to be so. The 
piano ia another play-thing upon which a young and pretty 
uUiirt'O BBen» but litlle lisle ned to. I have obHeived that 



MB TtwttU m EngUutd, [Smauf, 

IB thcie DumtiDiiaMMmblieS) musick is the ligBtl for a geno* 
ral deckainement of tongues ; even those who were silent 
beforei talk theOf by the. same sort of secret sympathy 
Which swells the notes of the Canary bird in his cage to 
overpower conversation. A circle is formed round the in* 
struraent — people press about the performer, talking a qui 
mimx mieux. It is indeed most true, that nine times out 
of ten) the performer and her instrument produce at best 
but a harmonious noise { — the more execution the less mu* 
sick. The hours are less late here than in London ; they do 
Hot quite turn the night into day. Day indeed is little more 
than nominal: at 12 o'clock the sun is so low, that the 
shadow of the houses across a very wide street, although 
•nly three stories high, cover the first story of the opposite 
side. There were people of quality in Greece at the pe- 
riod of its greatest luxurv, who boasted that they had never 
seen the sun ; if there is any merit in overcoming difficuU 
ties, they might have been vain of having seen it here* 
The climate of Scotland does indeed better without sun 
than any other ; winter is neutralized by the surrounding 
•ea :-^the thermometer is a little below freeaing in the night, 
just as much above in the day — there is no snow— the grsss 
IS quite green — and we have frequently calm and clear dsys 
wanting only a little duration. A fine morning, a fine even-' 
ing follow each other without noon; six or seven hours of 
light in the twenty-four,' 
* Mr. Listofi, known so advantageously in the United States 
(where I wish for the lake of the two countries he was still 
ambassadour) has a very pretty residence in the neigh* 
bonrbood of Edinburgh, where he has planted, or rather Mn. 
Listen has, an American garden full of the natives of our 
fields, and of our woods, to which we find some difficulty in 
granting that degree of consideration due to their rank of 
exoticks. These plants thrive remarkably well in their al* 
most polar situation. Mr. Liston was formerly the com- 
panion of Mirabeau in a military school in France, and telb 
several interesting anecdotes of this celebrated personage, 
and has preserved some of his letters written at the age of 
seventeen. Good for nothing from his earliest youths witty, 
turbulent, and factions, as he shewed himself afterwards^ 
Mirabeau exposed himself frequently to merited punisk' 
ofient, always borne very impatiently. Once he refused 
obstinately to leave his place of confinement, where be 



18160 TraptU in fiitg-tmul. M? 

laid he had bean pat unjustly, unleM due reparation 
vere made to him. Mr. Liston, early a negotiator, wai 
■elected to reason with him, and bring him, if poasiblef 
to his right senses. << You are destined," said he to him, 
^* to the profession of arms in France ; hov can you expect 
to succeed with this undisciplinable spirit ?" '' Ah !" he 
answered, striking his forehead with his handj* " that is too 
true ; — why was I not born in a country like yours : where 
ffiierit needs not pay court to power, and the road to dis- 
tinction lies open !" then denounced vengeance against the 
existing state of things in France.' 

* We could not be at Edinburgh without wishing to see 
the Caledonian bard, whose fertile and brilliant genius pro- 
duces poems with the rapidity of thought, and we have 
been gratified. Mr. Scott is a tali and stout man, thirty-five 
or forty years of age ; very lame from some accident in bis 
early youth. His countenance is not particularly poetical, 
complexion fair, with a coarse skin — little beard — sandy 
liair — and light eyes and eyebrows ; the tout ensemble rath- 
er dull and heavy : Yet when he speaks, which he is not 
always disposed to do, and is animated, his eye lightens up 



** With aU a poet's ecstasy.*' 

< This poet likes conviviality, and tells well, and con amore^ 
such stories as are told here only after dinner. He is a great 
tory , and consequently a warm friend of liberty (in Spain :) 
a disposition, I have already observed, characteristick of 
his party. His disappiobation of a certain article in the 
Edinburgh Review, on Cevallos's book, induced him to 
withdraw his name from the list of subscribers. This ar* 
tide is, in one sense, friendly to Spanish liberty, but then 
not in the right sense. Mr. Scott has a valuable place^ 
which had been promised him by the Ministry, which pre* 
ceded Mr. Fox's, but he was not in possession when they 
went out, and some of Mr. Fox's colleagues objected to hiy 
having it, saying, it was a job, *^ It is at least a job in favour 
of genius," answered Mr. Fox, with that liberality and 
generosity which distinguished him so particularly, '* it 
does not happen often, and is not dangerous." Mr. Scott 
had the place, and I hope does justice to the memory of 
his whig patron*' p« 368. 



MS Tftiweh in EnghmJU [Xmknuj, 

* The ntme of Newcastle is identified with tfamt of coahv 
the country about containing immense strata of this mineral, 
which is the object of a great trade. There are fioLrms under 
ground as well as on \hk surface^ and leased separatelj.-— 
I know of a subterranean farm of this kind of 5000 acres^ 
for which 30001. sterling a year is paid, and a per centp 
age, depending on the quantity of coals extracted, which 
may double that rent*^ It is remarkable enough, that 
when the estate in. which this mine is situated was sold, 
thirty years ago,, the purchaser refusing to pay a certain 
consideration for the right of mining,, this right, for which 
the former proprietor receives now 3000/. a year, possibly 
six or more, was reserved ; not that either party were ig- 
norant of the existence of coals, but the steam engine was 
not then so generally applied to mining, and the other 
branches of the art had not then reached their present io^ 

J roved state ; the consumption likewise, was msch less^ 
Inally, what is now worth 6000/. a year was not deemed 
worth one year's purchase thirty years ago. I accepted 
with pleasure an invitation to descend in a coal mine.^ The 
models rather alarming-. The 'extremity of the rope 
which works up and down the shaft being formed into akxmi: 
you pass one leg through it, so as to sit or be almost astride 
on the rope : then, hugging it with both arms, you are turn*, 
ed off from the platform over a dark abyss, where you 
would hardly venture if the depth was seen. This was 63 
fathoms deep (378 feet.) One of the workmen bestrode 
the loop by the side of me, and down we went with consid* 
emble rapidity. The wall of rock seemed to rush upwards, 
the darkness increased — the mouth above appeared a mere 
speck of light. I shut my eyes for fear of growing giddy ; 
the motion soon diminished, and we touched the ground* 
Here we stopped for two other persons.. £*ach of us had 
a flannel dress, and a candle, and thus proceeded through 
a long pasi^age — rock above, rock below — and a shining 
black wall of coal on each side ; a railway in the middle for 
horses, (for there are fifty or sixty horses living in this 
subterraneous world,) to draw two four wheel carriages, with 
each eight large baskets of coal ; these baskets are brought 
one at a time by diminutive waggons, on four litde wheels, 
drawn or pushed by boys along other railways, coming 
down the side streets to this main horse-road, the ceilii^ef 
which is cut in the main rock, high enough for a noan lo 



i 



f^ie.J TraveU in England. i%9 

•tand upright, while the side streets are no higher than the 
stratum of coals (4 1-2 feet) therefore jou must walk stoop- 

ing- 

^ The whdie extent of the mine is worked in streets, inter- 
secting each other at right angles, 24 feet wide and 36 feet 
•sunder^ leaving therefore 36 feet every waj. The miners 
have two enemies to contend with, air and water ; that air it 
bjdrogen gas, continually emitted by the coals, with an au- 
dible hissing noise. The contact of the lights necessary to 
be used would infallibly set fire to the hydrogen gas, if aN 
towed to accumulate, and either blow up or singe the miners 
severely ; it is therefore necessary that there should be a 
continual current of air going in and out by twa diSerent 
.hsues, at the beginning of the works ; and while there is on- 
fy one shaft, this is effected by means of a wooden partition 
carried down along the middle of the shaft, then along the 
first street opened, and so disposed afterwards, that the 
arr which comes down the shaft on one side of the partition, 
may circulate successively through each and every street 
before it returns up the other division of the shaft, a small 
fire establishing and keeping up the draught* As to water, 
the dip or inclination of the stratum of coals being known^ 
all the art consists in making the first shaft in the lowest 
part of the track ; a steam engine at the top drains up the 
water, and draws up the coals. Wherever the shaft cooies 
in contact with any stratum yielding water, it must be kept 
out by means of a drum or lining of timber, made tight 
round the inside of the shaft; I saw a small stream of clear 
water issuing from the bed below^ near the stable where 
the horses are kept, and serving to water them. These 
horses are in very good order ; their coats soft and glossy^ 
like the skin of a mole ; they are conveyed down, or taken 
out, with great care and expedition, by means of a great net 
or bag.' 

* Some of the mines are more extensive than the city of 
Philadelphia, arid their streets are as regular. When the 
whole area is thus excavated in streets, it must not be sup- 
posed that the solid blocks are abandoned ; but, beginning 
at the furthermost extremity, the miners proceed to pull 
down all the blocks one after the other. When a space of 
two or three hundred feet square has been thus left un» 
supported, thcxceifing of solid rock begins to sag and 
crack, with a hideous noise ; the workmen go on ootwitb- 



870 TruvtU in Ei^lamd* [January; 

atandiog, trusting that the ceiling will not break down cipw 
to the blocki, but some way behind ; and such is the c^se ; 
the cracks grow wider and wider — the rock bends down, 
coining at last in contact with the floor, and the whole ex- 
tent is thus 6lled up : on the surface of the ground, however, 
nothing is perceived ; the rocks are left to manage thc^. 
business among themselves below. Houses, and stone houses 
too, remain standing, and their inhabitants sleep in peace 
all the while.' p. 58. Vol. II. 

* York is an old town, and of course very ugly, containing 
about ] 5,000 inhabitants. Its Minster is one of the wonders 
of England, fifty feet longer than Westminster-Abbey, 
which is I think, five hundred and twenty feet. The main 
tower over the centre is heavy ; the two lesser ones are 
much better ; the rest of the exteriour is light and beauti^ 
ful. The interiour is very striking indeed, and sqperiour to 
any thing we have yet seen ; as to boldness, lightness, and 

?rodigious high finish ot the carving — quite sharp and iljottr. 
!*he figures introduced are in the usual barbarous grotesque 
style- The outside carving, originally as highly finished, 
having been much injured by time, is now undergoing 
thorough repairs, or rather an entire new facing; thf 
modern carving is fully equal to the old, and made like in 
colour by oiling the stones. Beautiful as the inside of the 
minster undoubtedly is, I think it less striking than the 
dome of St. Pauls ! the latter is something less in size, but 
its vast airy dome, and the wide area under it, producer 
greater effect. The tower of a small Ootfaick Church near 
the minster is remarkable light and beautiful. The windows 
of the minster are too large, and admit too much light. 

* Ob Sunday the Judges just arrived for the assizes, came 
to church en grand co^ltime, with their huge powdered 
wigs, and black robes : but all their smartness was lost upos 
us, who had just seen the Scotch judges dressed in white 
and pink satin. The mayor and corporation swelled the 
train, and in the rear footmen in white liveries, and large 
nosegays at the buttonhole ; the whole town was in motioO' 
The assizes in a county town are an event ; and it putsoie 
in mind of Mad. de Stael's witty remark, ''on ne s'amuse 
une fois, que pour d^couvrir que Ton s'y ennuie tous lei 
jours." The chanting was very good, and the voices of 
some of the young choristers admirable, but the organist 
flourished too much. The same day we went to the Uoitt- 



rian chapel, where we expected ' to hear Mr. W* 
preach ; but the New-England tone and pronunciation soon 
informed us, that our godly instructor came from the other 
•kie of the Atlantick. . Travelling as well as ourselves in 
this distant countrj, chance had thus brought us together-^ 
he to give and we to receive edification* The mode of wor« 
ship of the Unitarians has the detect of being too rational ; 
their service resembles in its extreme simplicity that of the 
French protestants, among whom I was born. The £ng« 
Ush sectaries have however greatly the advantage in other 
respects ; they profess openly in perfect liberty and peace, 
the faith of their conscience, and sing the praises of God 
to the sound of the organ in their own town, while those of 
France were obliged to meet by stealth, in secret and lonely 
places. I have seen in the mountoins of the Yivarrois a 
Protestant minister preach from the hollow trunk of an old 
chesnut'tree, and heard the rocks of the wilderness re-echo 
the psalms of King David, sung with the fervour of primi- 
tive zeal, in language piously barbarous. . 

* We had the pleasure of seeing here, a preacher of ano« 
tfaer sort, the Rev. S. S. who has been the delight of the 
dtevout fashionables of the capital ; it is not however in this 
character we have known him, but in his own house, where, 
among his friends, he is a most agreeable companion. He 
has the reputation of being one of the most lively writers 
of the Edinburgh Review, and serious too, when he pleases* 
His countenance struck me as very like that of the unfor- 
tunate Louis XVI. with more vivacity in the eye. 

^ There is near York a retreat for lunaticks, which appears 
admirably managed, and almost entirely by reason and kind- 
ness ; it was instituted by the Quakers. Most of the pa- 
tients move about at liberty, without noise and disorder, and 
by their demure and grave deportment shew they have not 
quite forgotten to what sect they belong. We observed, 
&>wever, in a great garden or court, some men in brohd 
brim hats, walking about in a hurried, agitated manner, with 
their hands in their coat pockets, where we found at last 
they were confined. The lowest only of the patients are 
allowed to be seen : for the Quakers recognize in practice 
some inequalities of rank. It is impossible, however, to 
blame those who wish not to expose tne infirmities of their 
friends to the idle gaze of the curious. The mistress of 
the house iaajgood^^looking, portly lady, lately married to the 



trs Travels in England, [Jamni^, 

keeper, both Quakiers. Tou cannot say of this couple with 
Mofiere, " Du cot6 de la barbe est toute la puissance :" 
for ail the consequence and the talents seem here on the 
aide of the lady, and her husband appears merely her de- 
puty. The frame of the windows is of iron, which saves 
the appearance of grates* Some of the patieuts are allow- 
ed to go out of the premises, and even to town alone. The 
directress told us^that having been indisposed in consequence 
of a fall, and some little dispute having arisen a short time 
afterwards with one of the female patients, the latter said to 
her, " I am sorry to see that since thy fall thee hast not 
been quite rights and if it should last, we shall be obliged 
to take care of thee !'' We heard some other curiou8|traits; 
I shall mention Only the following* A yocing and stoat 
female patient, diiipleased with one of the servants, tiirew 
her down on the floor, and holding her there said, " What 
should hinder me from strangling thee ? I am mad ; they 
could not hang me for it !'' 

' In fourteen years one hundred and fifty-four patients 
have been admitted ; of which seventy-three have beeti 
cured, twenty-four have died (three by suicide) -and fifty 
seven remain. There are more women than men. The 
most ordinary causes are love, religion, pride, and reverses 
in fortttne ; two of these causes apply more particularly to 
the sex — the other two are equally divided* I have becD 
told by a well-informed person, born a Quaker, that there 
are more instances of insanity among that persuasion than 
among other people ; the rich particularly are most exposed 
to this calamity. Commerce and manufactxires are nearlj 
the only professions from which Quakers do not exclude 
themselves ; but the sons of rich merchants, caring little 
about trade, and almost all kinds of amusements, the Fine 
Arts, and certain departments of literature, faHing under tbe 
same interdiction, nothing remains but-enTMii, nervousness, 
and at last insanity. Dr. Johnson, who was well qualified 
to judge of mental maladies, said of one of his friends, "He 
would not have drowned himself if he had known how to 
hem a pocket handkerchief.*' The circumstance of the 
Quakers, building this lunatick asylum entirely for them- 
selves, recalled to my mind what happened to me once in 
travelling through a back settlement of America* Obsen* 
ing in the bouse of a settler an apparatus to distil spirits, I 
asked him how he could expect a sale tor the liquor in to 



iai6.] Travels in England. 273 

remote a situation. ^' Oh/' he answeredi << it is onljr for 
familj use." ' 

* The Rev. S. S. who accompanied us, said he under^ . 
stood there was an undue proportion of tailors among mad 
people. I would not answer that this remark was to be taken 
seriously. The profession, has a certain degree of ridicule 
attached to it ip England, and is obnoxious to certain jokes, 
which, although neither verj new nor very refined, genuine 
mirth is not so fastidious as to disdain. 

Madness appears to be fatallj common in Oreat Britain, 
and among the high ranks as well as among Quakers 
and tailors. I have heard of three families of Scotch 
Dukes, in which there have been, from time to time, cases , 
of this kind^ and eleven Earls' families. My informant, who 
was not so well acquainted with the state of noble brains in 
the southern section of the Island, could not name more 
than three families of mad English Dukes ; and the case of 
an illustrious personage belongs bj'blood rather to Scotland 
than to England : jet the Scotch talk of this calamity as 
affecting peculiarly England, seeing the mote in their bro- 
ther's eye, and not the beam in their own. It has long been 
my opinion, said Horace Walpole, that the out pensioners 
ot Bedlam are so numerous, that the shortest and cheapest 
way would be to confine in Moorfields the few that remain 
in their senses, who would then be safe, and let the rest go 
kt large.' p. 66. Vol. II. 

**Of its "* system of education I know very little. A great 
historian who had spent here some years of his youth^ has 
.spoken of it very unfavourably. It was in his time little 
dse than a monkish community, sunk in ease and indolence, 
and the facts disclosed in the course of a sharp controver- 
sy lately carried on between a champion of the university, 
and a certain illustrious literary association, tends, upon the 
whole, to confirm Oibbon's charges. This splendid uni- 
versity seems to have slumbered on since the revival of 
letters, ignorant or unmindful of the discoveries of modern 
times. It remained Aristotelian and scholastick for cen- 
Ittries after the rest of the world, and when it ceased to 
teach exploded doctrines, it taught nothing at all in their 
itead. 

*^ It appears however that important changes and im- 
provements have been introduced within a few years, and 
the obstacles of antiquated forms and practices once re- 

* Oxford. 
Vol. II. No. «. 35 



274 TruveU in Euglund. [Janttarjr, 

movedy the establishment may work its own perfect regene* 
ration. The ancient unirersities of £urope, founded ia 
the times of the universal dominion of the church of Rome, 
have preserved, even in Protestant countries, that languor 
knd that pride, which the long possession of undisturbed 
power is apt to generate ; which, at the same time that it 
clings to prerogative, knows not how to maintain real ascen* 
dancy. Considering (he manifest state of imperfection of 
establishments and methods of education in general — and 
that of all professions, that of tutor is, perhaps, the most 
difficult, and the most negligently attended to, it is a matter 
of surprise that so^ many people should, after all, be well 
educated. But it will be found, that in general, they re- 
commenced their education anew after it was finished, na* 
turally and without any formed design. The grain of corn, ^ 
which the unfriendly frosts of the winter have thrown out 
of the ground where it had been sown, strives to regain in 
the spring the situation it has lost, and its elevated root 
taking a short turn, dives back again into its genial element 
in search of food — but there has been a loss of time and 
substance, and the young plant does not always attain afte^ 
wards the full growth and maturity to which its natural con- 
stitution bad destined it.' p. 113. vol. ii. 

^ March 35. London. Here we are once more, after 
an absence of nine months. This second first sight made 
much the same impression as the first. London does not 
strike with admiration ; it is regular, clean, convenient (I 
am speaking of the best part,) bift the site is flat ; the plan 
monotonous ; the predominant colour of objects dingy and 
^ poor. It is altogether without great faults and without 
great beauties. Suppose yourself in one of the best streets, 
it extends d perte de vtie before you, in an undeviatiog 
straight line ; the side-walks wide and smooth ; every door 
with its stone steps, its iron railing and its lamp; one house 
differing from its neighbour in no one thing but the number 
on the door, and the name of the occupant. Turn the next 
corner, and you have another street as long, as wide, and as 
straight, and so on from street to street. At night you have 
eternal rows of lamps, making the straightness of the street! 
still more conspicuous and tiresome. This palpable im- 
mensity has something in it very heavy and stuptfying* 
The best houses in Edinburgh are certainly very inferiour 
to those of the same rank in London, jet the difference of 



Ulf^.] Travels iH England. 375 

the materials, a bright chrjstallized stone, instead of dingy 
bricks, gives them a look of superioiir consequence and 
cheerfulness; the variety of views also, and the proximity 
of the country, without the fag end of suburbs, are invalua- 
ble advantages. There is no doubt m London a greater 
choice of society, the best probably, and the pleasantest ; 
butit is in general out of the reach of a stranger and of no 
•ort of consequence to him.' p. 116. vol. ii. 

^ April 7. We went to Westminster Abbey this mornings 
and found it, with all its merits, inferiour to York Minster, 
both inside and out. The painted windows are not good ; 
and, although I should not wish to whitewash the walls, yet 
I think them too dark and sooty. The chanting was very 
fine, and the organ accompaniment simple and beautiful. 
Of all human inventions to elevate the mind, and excite en- 
thusiasm, I know of none so powerful as church musick. 
The place adds undoubtedly to its effect. Whatever sen- 
timents of elevation and piety the musick might have pro- 
duced, were soon unfortunately brought down to the or- 
dinary worldly level by the sermon it was our fortune to 
hear. The preacher was a purple-faced, short-necked 
man, forcing bis hollow, vulgar, insincere voice through a 
fat narrow passage. He told us, or rather read out of a pa- 
per in his hand, that it was wrong to wish to die, yet not 
right to be afraid neither ; and that St. Paul taught us to 
keep a happy medium. Among many words he pro- 
nounced in a peculiar manner, I recollect acknon;ledge and 
innocence, like no in noble, which is not unusual, I think, on 
the stage ; perfady instead of perfidy ; sunsine instead of 
nvtnahine.^ 

^ April 18. Mr. West's new picture at the British Insti- 
tution is all the fashion ; every body goes to see it, and it 
is considered as his chef d^ceuvre^ after his Regulus. The 
society has bought the picture for three thousand pounds^ 
The subject is Christ healing the sick. They (the sick) 
form the prominent part of the picture, and certainly they 
are, what they ought to be, very sick. But that is an effect 
easily produced ; and it is only an exact likeness of a few 
wretched objects, unconnected, and passive. Christ is 
coming forth, his hands extended towards them all, doing 
good like Providence, not like a common mortal, without 
emotion and without effort. This may at least be fancied 
to have been the intention of the artist. Our Saviour 



f 76 TrmOB in EngtMd. [Snstmuf, 

seemed to me, however, to hare onlj the countenance of a 
very handsome Jew, with a clear skin, trim beard, and 
rather more genteel than their tribe generally are, yet not 
divine at all. The extended hands are delicate ; — fingers 
tapering to an affectation, and finically graceful ; — the 
colouring is bluish and cold, and the outlines of all the ob- 
jects as sharp and distinct as cut tin. Tlie only figure 
which struck me as fine, is that of a young man who has 
just laid down his dying fathejr at the feet of Christ, and 
with one knee on the ground and outstretched bands, and 
earnest looka, seems to pray with perfect faith. The 
Christ of Michael Angelo, at Mr. Angcrstein's, with all Its 
defects, is far otherwise divine than this ;* and without 
disparagement to Mr. West's reputation, I think he might 
have improved his colouring by the study of Rembrandt, 
Vandyke or Murillo.* p. 120. v. ii. 

* The Cbristof Mr. Trumbull, In bis picture of the Woman taken in 
Adultery, which I have just seen on the easel, (10th September) ap- 
pean to me to approach mueh nearer than Mr. West's to that peenliar 
nharacter of ineffable goodnoss aiul sublime meekpess wbicbbelo^giBti 
Qur Saviour alone, 



[to BK CO)fTINU«I>-] 



M16.} 



Met»»nlogUul J^mwmU. 



977 



METEOROLOGICAL JOURNALS. 



Cambridge, bt PaoFESSoa Fariur. 



OCTOBER, 1815. 





BArokneter. 




Thermometer. I FaeeofSky. | Winds. 


• 




• 


1^ 




• 

IS 


• 


• 


1^ 




^ 


s 


• 


A^ 


• 


• 


oi 


Qli 


• 


(k 




• 
04 


^ 


04 


o» 


1^ 


e^ 


at 


t* 


a 


t^ 


0) 


1 


30.02 


29.90 


29.92 


62 


76 


59 


Fair 


Fair 


N.W.I 


\1^. 


^ 


30.12 


30.15 


30.24 


53 


56 


43 


Clo. 


Fair 


N.E.2 


W. 


3 


30.32 


30.30 


30.31 


37 


62 


43 


Fair 


Fair 


S, 


W. 


4 


30.32 


30.30 


30.27 


37 


63 


47 


Fair 


Fair 


S.E. 


E. 


5 


30.21 


30.09 


30.01 


45 


75 


60 


Fair 


Clo. 


E. 


S. 


6 


29.96 


00.10 


30.16 
30.30 


57 


68 


50 


Clo. 


Fair 


S. 


W.l 


7 


30.35 




48 


58' 


53 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N.E.fi 


E.1 


? 


30.11 


29.90 


29.84 


56 


62 


59 


Clo. 


Clo. 


E. 


E. 


9 


29.78 


29.77 


29.90 


56 


68 


50 


Clo. 


Clo. 


E. 


W.l 


10 


30.01 


29.95 


29.83 


42 


66 


55 


Fair 


Clo. 


W.l 


S.W. 


11 


29.95 


29.99 


30.00 


47 


65 


56 


Clo. 


Fair 


W.l 


W. 


12 


30.00 


29.98 


80.15 


51 


71 


48 


Fair 


Fair 


w. 


W.l 


13 


30.27 


30.28 




42 


66 


44 


Fair 


Fair 


w. 


W. 


14 


30.33 


30.34 


30.26 


30 


65 


51 


Clo. 


Clo. 


w. 


E.l 


15 


30.20 


30.20 


30.17 


40 


53 


34 


Clo. 


Fair 


E. 


N.E. 


16 


30.25 


30.33 


30.18 


37 


53 


44 


Fair 


Clo. 


N.E. 


E. 


17 


30.21 


30.16 


30.13 


41 


61 


52 


Clo. 


Clo. 


E. 


E. 


18 


30.14 


30.17 


30.22 


49 


55 


49 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N.E. 


E. 


19 


30.30 


30.32 


30..^3 


44 


45 


38 


Clo. 


Fair 


N.B.2 


N.E.1 


20 


30.34 


30.34 


30.32 


34 


57 


40 


Fair 


Clo. 


W. 


E. 


21 


30.29 


30.31 


30.31 


38 


59 


43 


Clo 


Clo. 


E. 


E. 


22 


30.22 


30.11 


3a05 


47 


67 


50 


Clo. 


Fair 


E. 


W- 


23 


30.07 


30.00 


29.97 


39 


54 


35 


Fair 


Fair 


W.l 


N.W.I 


24 


29.78 


29.56 


29.56 


39 




38 


Clo. 


C)o. 


N.W. 


N.W.I 


25 


29.71 


29.82 


29.98 


38 


45 


38 


Clo. 


Ck>. 


N.W.2 


N.W.2 


26 


30.00 


29.81 


29.46 


27 


45 


43 


Clo. 


Clo. 


W. 


E. 


27 


29.41 


29.42 


29.60 


45 


48 


33 


Clo. 


Clo. 


W.3 


N.W.2 


28 


29.76 


29.87 


30.07 


27 




27 . Clo. 


Fair 


W.2 


W. 


29 


30.26 


30.22 


30.21 


26 


47 


37 


Fair 


Clo. 


W. 


W. 


30 


30.11 


30.00 


30.24 


38 


53 


27 


Clo. 


Clo. 


S. 


N.W.2 


31 


30.38 


30.42 


30.41 


23 


46 


35 


Fair 


Fair 


N.W. 


W. 


30.38 


30.42 


30.41 57 1 


76 


60 Greatest. 






1 30.103 


30.073 30.060 r41.8 


57.8 


44.7 Mean. 






1 


29.41 1 


29.42 


29.40 1 


23 1 


45 


27 


Least 


• 







Rain on the 6th. 7th and 8th, 48 in.--on the 10th and 11 th, 56— on 
the 22d and 24th, 13. Total, 1.17. 



378 



Mikorological JcmnitiM. • [ JaD«if y, 



NOVEMBER, 1815. 





Barometer. 




Thermometer. 


Pace of Sky. 


1 Winds. 




• 


• 

1^ 


• 


« 


• 




• 


25 


• 


• 


• 


• 


• 


• 




0^ 


• 


• 




^ 


• 

04 


A 


I* 


^ 


o» 


r* 


04 


» 


b» 


a 


t* 


0» 


1 


30.37 


30.37 


30.38 


38 


57 


33 


t)o. 


Fair 


s.w. 


Vi. 


2 


30.34 


30.19 


30.12 


32 


63 


47 


Fair 


Clo. 


w. 


S.E. 


3 


30.12 


30.24 


30.30 


54 


49 


47 


Clo. 


Clo. 


w. 


E. 


4 


30.41 


30.42 


30.44 


45 




48 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N.E. 


N.E. 


5 


30.38 


30.23 


30.15 


47 


58 


53 


Clo. 


Clo. 


S.W. 


S.W. 


6 


30.05 


29.89 


29.72 


52 


63 


59 


Clo. 


Cio. 


S.W. 


S.I 


7 


29.82 


29.95 


30.40 


49 


53 


29 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N.W.2 


N.W. 


8 


30.71 


30.72 


30.72 


21 


44 


28 


Fair 


Fair 


N.W, 


W. 


9 


30.60 


30.35 


30.05 


35 


55 


58 


Clo. 


Clo. 


S.W.I 


w. 


10 


29.96 


30.04 


30.15 


b5 


62 


41 


Clo. 


Clo. 


S.W.I 


w. 


11 


30.25 


30.25 


30.37 


32 


40 


28 


Clo. 


Fair 


N.W. 


w. 


12 


30.51 


30.51 


30.52 


21 


37 


23 


Fair 


Fair 


N.l 


N.E. 


13 


30.54 


30.49 


30.49 


24 


42 


23 


Clo. 


Fair 


N.2 


N. 


14 


30.51 


30.42 


30.41 


23 


48 


28 


Fair 


Fair 


S.W. 


W. 


15 


30.41 


30.36 


30.33 


26 


53 


29 


Fair 


Clo. 


S.W. 


w. 


16 


30.24 


30.09 


30.03 


33 




42 


Clo. 




N.E. 


N.E.1 


17 


29.95 


29.96 


30.24 


35 


38 


33 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N. 


W. 


18 


30.48 


30.49 


30.44 


33 


43 


38 


Fair 


Cb. 


N.W. 


£. 


19 


30.38 


30.18 


30.10 


42 


42 


37 


Clo. 


Clo. 


E. 


N.W.I 


20 


30.17 


30.18 


30.20 


32 


49 


34 


Fair 


Clo. 


N. 


E. 


21 


30.20 


30.19 


30.17 


40 


52 


40 


Clo. 


Fair 


S.W. 


W. 


22 


30.13 


29.98 


29.83 


47 


59 


57 


Clo. 


Clo. 


S.W. 


W. 


23 


29.98 


30.03 


30.23 


43 


53 


34 


Clo. 


Fair 


w. 


w. 


24 


30.39 


30.40 


30.28 


30 


44 


35 


Fair 


Clo. 


w. 


w. 


25 


30.13 


30.15 


30.22 


33 


47 


30 


Clo. 


Fair 


S.W. 


w. 


26 


30.47 


30.46 


30.52 


25 


43 


25 


Fair 


Fair 


w. 


w. 


27 


30.61 


30.61 


30.56 


22 


44 


37 


Fair 


Clo. 


N.W. 


£. 


28 


30.49 


30.44 


30.26 


36 


44 


40 


Clo. 


Clo. 


E. 


- E- 


29 


30.11 


29.97 


29.79 


36 


45 


43 


Clo. 


Clo. 


N.W. 


N.W.- 


30 


29.67 


29.76 


29.84 


47 


!i5 


28 


Clo. 




S. 


N.W.2 


1 30.71 1 


30.72 


30.72 


55 |63 


59 Greatest. 






1 30.279 


30.241 


30.244 


36.3148.8 


37.6 Mean. 






1 


29.67 


29.70 


29.72 


21 1 


37 1 


23 


Least 


« 


• 





Rain on the 3d and 4th, .28 in--^n the 9th, .18— on the 16th tnd 
17tb, .82— on the 19th, .79— a little on the 27th and 28th. Total, 2.07. 



tlfl.] aatorologicai Joun%aU. 



Bkunbwigk, Bowdoih College. 













OCTOBER. 1815. 












hti. 




.4 


3 


is 


ii 


1 


s 


s 


11 
2l 




11 


■< 


|i 




s 


- 


M 


E° 


■o 


s 


c; 


s 


li 


s 


b 


*] 


ia 


ti8 


42 


« 




ffl.fl* 


20.88 


Z9.8D 


svr 


S. 


Fog. 


Cloudy. 


i 


57 


5!!.5 


57 


40 


M 


28.70 


Zn.72 


i9.1i3 




N.W. 


Ft?r. 


Fair. 




4Z.S 


54 


48.5 




58.3 


30, 1» 






N.W 


9.E. 


Pair. 


Cloudy. 


i 


^1 






46 




29.fl3 


wiss 


2!l!70 


S£. 


SJi. 


Rain. 


Raiu. • 


s 


SS.i 




44 


44 68.5 


ffl.54 


ia.33 


.■B.liO 


S- 


M.W. 


il. 


Fair, 


11 


)2 


57 




34,2 1.12,5 






20 -T) 


w. 


S. 


Fair. 




52.S 






IB.3 MS 


2B.6M 


i9.70 


29,77 




aw. 


Rain. 


Fair. 


1! 


H 


na 


S9,.'i 


45 119.9 


2fl.fi« 


».6b 


20.80 


sw 


NW. 


Pair. 


Fair. 


13 




VO 




34 61 


■.i0.ft2 


30.00 


)0.D4 


PiW 


M.W. 


Fair. 


Fair. 


1 


43.5 


S5.i 


50 


3« 58 


mip 


».1V 


30 OS 


w. 


a.w. 


Cloudr, 


Cloudy. 




39 


4S 


4fi 


38 4g.5 




ZB.B8 


^1,06 


RE 


N.W. 


Rain. 


Fair. 


1^ 




18.1 




n 47 


3O,0i 


M.o: 


1»93 


N.B 




Fair. 


Cloudy. 




»nj 


*5. 


51 


.11.5 liO 


iiB.a--. 


W.93 


29,94 


W, 


s! 


Fatr. 


Fair. 


I 


IflJ 




48 




:M).02 




W.03 


N.E 


WE, 


ClMdy 


Cloody. 


1 




». 


4a 


33.5 sa 


30.13 


30.10 


KlU 


N.E 


N.E. 


Fair, 


Fair. 


a 


3B.3 


M 


(7 


m 55 


30.11 


ao.oN 




N.E 


&. 


Fair. 


Fair. 


2 






».5 


WJ 57 


JO. 10 
JB.94 


JO.ffl 


ijoio,'. 


N.B 


S. 


Cloudy 


Cloudy. 


K 


M.i 


iB 


13 


11 39 


Jfl.85 


itf.73 


S.W 


a.w 


Fair. 


Fair. 


x: 


sn. 


90 


W 




29.82 






NW 


NW 


Faif. 


Fair. 


2^ 


OT 




42 


m 47.S 


m.45 


ai"3i 


ra>J 


3W 


N.W 


cioudr 


Cloudy. 


a 


4i. 


48 


4-.i 


16.5 40 


:».iO 


29 .in 


:».Ai 


H.W 


N.W 


riuudy 


Cloudy. 


a 






40 


ffl 43.5 


».«- 






MW 


W, 


Fair. 


Cl.)udy. 


2- 


X 


4,i 


42 


M,5 40 


SC 


ifl.OO 


2B!oi 


S.W 


N.W 


Rsia. 


Cloudy. 


s 


zs 


34. 


31. S 






01 M 


19.5B 


N,W 


N.W 


Pair. 


Cloudy. 


a 


28 


40. 




iti' 41 


S.^' 


i9,0 


ai.B 


N.W 


«,ff 


Fair. 


Fair.) 


a 


il 


45 


42 


«.5 45 5 


•la.K 


a».i 


29.7 


S.W 


N.W 


KaiD. 


Cloudy. 


3 




3B 


34 






.».0 130 loyN.w 


NW 


Fair. 


Fair. 


S7 


iir 


wJ 


34 m.. 


!0.1!i[W,18|30.13||GrTBteit. 




41.ft 


52. 


4fi.< 


35.i} M-C 


^.S3l2».31 129,81 llMean. 






24 


34.5 




19.7 


j36 


20.0 


\2».IK 


]28,0' 


||L« 


t. 







Meu) temperature deduced rrom three nbservBtions each daj 46.86' 
ditto maijma of heat and cold 45.06 

Mean lifiigbt of barometer - - 29.816 in, 
Greatest moDtLly range of ditto. - 1.18 



Metiarological JoanuUa. 



[JaauaiT'} 



NOVEMBER. 1815. 







Theniiom 




II 


B^romelrr. 


{J ^ 


ndn. 


1 Wrather, 


-\ l'--|M--_!|z 


. S5 


•s, 


1^ 


E ■ 


Z% 




- ' ~ 1 " y '■'- ^ 


E |i 


^ 


il 


^ 


|i 




''-\_ \.: l.-s 


- II 


9. 


^1 


S 


M 




;:■ 1 -. ^-.■ynv-'a.M 






P«ir. 


t-air. 




- ]■ .| . .■.,....■, JJ.82 


3,W. 


S.W. 


Fair, 


Pair. 






N.E 


N.E. 


Cloud; 


Cloudy. 




^-.'l' .! ■ ■ " ' : :\ .!018 


N.K. 


S.E, 


ClMdj 


Cloiidy. 


il 












S.W. 


S.W. 


Cloudy 


Cloudy. 


















Cloudy 


ClcKKly. 


7 


IK 




3.) 


n 


;o :!>.',L 


i!!).!:. :'!i.83 


N.W- 


K.W, 


Cloudy 


Fair, 


8 


■i3 


34 






Ji ao..iB 


30,40 J0.42 


N,W. 


S.W. 


Fair. 


Fair. 


a 


17 




43.3 


:ffl.5 


IB 30.-^(i 


30 1.1 30.04 




S. 


Cloudy 


Rain. 


10 


52 


SI .5 


S4 


4fi 


u3 29.66 


29.70 20.78 


8>! 


N.W. 


Cloudy 


Psir. 


>t 


■m 




33 


28.i 


37 30.00 


30.02 M.OS 


H. 


N.W. 


Fair. 


Fair. 


12 


17 


;» 


2a,s 


13 


30.5 30.24 


30.2fi 30.27 


N.W. 


N.E. 


Fair. 


Fair. 




13 




■i%.t 


Vl.b 


31 30 .-^H 


30.22 30.22 


N. 


K. 


Fair. 


Fair. 


14 




:»,ft 


34,a 


11 


40 30.13 


30 1130.11 




S.W. 


Fair. 


Fair. 


19 


^1 


« 


3U 


18.5 


4IJ 30.07 


30.05 30.07 


S,W. 


!.W. 


Fair. 


Fair. 


IB 


3H 




J3.3 


al 


39 ro.ll 


30-80 :»-04 


,N.E, 


N.E- 


Cloudy, 


Sdov. 


17 


i3.J 


ia' 


10 




4S 29.71 


20.66 21-74 


N. 


N.W. 


Cloudy, 


Fair. 




J9 


40 


ati.s 


b' 




30 22 30.24 


N,W. 


S-W, 


F^, 


Cloudy. 


111 


iS 






34 


41 M!li 


30.08 30.02 


N.E. 


W.E. 


Cloudy, 




UU 


J5.5 


« 


JO.i 


33.7 


43 20.fll 


29.92 89-97 


N. 


M. 


Fair. 


cS^i- 


21 


ifl 




43 


33.7 




29.81 29.87 


S.W, 


S.W, 


Cloudy, 


Cloudy. 


■J2 






J3.S 




47 at.Bs 


2a. 79 2fl.G4 




S-E, 


For. 


Mist 






51 


44 


41 


52 29.70 


2B.7i 29.92 


,v.w. 


\.w-. 


Fadr. 


Fair. 


34 


'A 








40,5 30.11 


JO. 12 30.80 


K,W, 




Fair. 


Cloudy. 


2b 


IT 


« 


W 


30 


45 Z!}.B1 


29,82 39.90 


«.W, 


N.W, 


Cloudy. 


Fair. 


•s, 


JO. 5 


^S 


33,i 


la.a 


38.5 30.15 


30-19 29.24 


N.W. 


N.W. 


Fair. 


I^. 


2; 


'1 


JZ.5 


3I.S 


i« 


lai 30,40 


30.37 30.3B 


N,W- 




Fair. 


cioodr. 








385 


30 


43 30.26 


3O.::0 30.12 


E, 


S.E- 


Cloudy. 


Cloudy. 


21 


W 


IH 






47 29. B5 


29-71 29.60 


N. 


N- 


Milt. 


Fog. 


30 






4S_S 


41 


411 IZ9.44 


29.20 29.22 S.E. 


N.W, 


Rain- 


Cloud,, 


sa 


ITfl 




4U 


.13 ».4ik 


.<0.4D 30.42 IG rental. 


33..'. 


lit.B 


W.J 


i9.1 


14.7 30.l)t 


^ll.Co Jq.ei [Mean. 




17 


M 


i6.5 




30.3 29.44 


29.-iO 29.22 


Least 









Mean temperature deduced from three obsenatioDS each day 38.fl3> 
ditto maxlnia oT heat and cold 36.BB 

Mean height of barometer . - . 29,976 in. 
Greatest mouthly range of ditto. - - 1.22 

B&inand snow reduced totTster • - 1-B7 



1816.] Miscellaneous and Literary tntelligence. 281 
MISCELLANEOUS AND LITERARY INTELLIGENCE* 

HARVARD UNIVERSITY- 

Abiel Smith Esq. who died in November last, an opulent 
merchant in Boston, and a graduate of the University in 1764 — 
bequeathed ten thousand dollars, six percent* stock of the United 
States, and twenty thousand dollars three per cent- to the Uni- 
versity, towards maintaining a teacher or professor of the French 
and Spanish languages, or of the French language alone, as the 
government of the University should see fit. 

SUBJECTS OF BOWUOIN PRIZE DISSERTATIONS FOR 1816- 

1. The Christian Doctrine of Faith. 

2. The reciprocal influence of literature and morals. 

3. The importance of commerce as a source of private and 

publick wealth. 

4* The characteristicks of the Greek language- 

5. The Iliad. 

Six premiums (three first and three second) will be assigned, 
if so many dissertations of sufficient merit shall be offered. Can- 
didates will mention their standing, as Resident Graduates or 
Undergraduates; and if Undergraduates, of what class. The 
performances must be in the hands of the Pfesident by the end 
oi June. 

The first premium is thirty dollars, or a gold medal of that 
value — and the second twenty dollars, or a gold medal of that 
value. 

The prizes in 1815, were assigned in July last as follows:--^ 
A second premium to Thomas Savage, A. B. for a Dissertation 
on the question, '' Whether the Greek Article be used with so 
much precision by the writers of the New Testament, that in* 
ferences may be drawn from it in favour of important doctrines.** 

A first premium to Jared Sparks, of the Senior class, for a dis- 
sertation <' On the character of Sir Isaac Newton, and the in- 
fluence, and importance of his discoveries.** 

A second premium to John D. Crocker, of the Senior class--^ 
Subject — The practical utility of the Philosophy of the mind- 
To Justin W. Clark, a Junior — Subject — " The present Age-** 

To John Everett, of the Freshman class — Subject — ^" The 
distinguishing excellencies of the Hebrew.** 

The Corporation, with the assent of the Overseers, have in- 
rited the co-operation of the friends of the College, in their df^' 
sign to extend the means of Theological education at the Uni* 
versity. 

Vol- II- No. 5. 36 



2»Si Miscellaneous andLUerarg [Januarj', 

THEOLOGICAL EDUCATION IN HARVARp VNIVEBSITT. 

- The Corporation of Harvanl College have thought it their du- 
ty, to adopt measareg for increasing the means of Theological Ed- 
ucation at the University. In order to enable Stmlents in Di- 
vinity to reap the benefit of the eminent advantages which the 
College possesses for this purpose, there is need of funds for as- 
sisting meritorious Students of limited means to reside in Cam- 
bri(ige for a requisite time : — Of one or more Professors, whose 
attention nwy be exclusively given to this class of students ; and 
of a separate building. 

The Corporation are disposed and determined to apply the 
resources of the college to this object, as far as other indispensable 
claims admit. But these resources being entirely incompetent 
to the accomplishment of their views, they feel it incumbent upon 
them to call upon the Friends of the University, and of the 
Christian Ministry, to co-operate with them in this interesting 
> design. 

As the best method of obtaining the assistance of the liberal 
and pious, it is proposed to form a Society *'/or tfu educatum tf 
candidates for the mmstry m Cambridge Universily.^'^ All pei^ 
sons who shall subseribe five dollars a year shall be members, 
and continue such so long as they shall pay the said annual sum: 
<— -Clergymen paying two dollars a year to be considered at 
members. 

All persbns subscfibing One Hundred Dollars to be considered 
members of the said society for life. Subscriptions for smaller 
sums, either as atanual payments or as donations, wlK be thank- 
fully received. 

Whilst annual and life subscriptions are desired, it is hoped, 
that afiQuent friends of the College, and of the Churches, will by 
donations and i>equests, do justice to the noble objects of Christian 
munificence here presented. 

The Corporation aVe induced to believe, that a large number of 
persons in the metropolis and in various parts of this Common- 
wealth will view this invitation with favour; — as an occasion 
for doing what many of them have anxiously wished to see ac- 
complished. 

Thinking the importance of the sulrject gives it a claim to ap- 
pear under respectable auspices, the Cor|)oration have ventured 
to place on the Committees the names of a number of distinguish- 
ed Sons and Friends of the University, who are requested to take 
charge of the papers for suhscription. 

Clergymen are not named on these Committees, being consid- 
ered as engaged by the nature of their office to afford their assis- 
tance, and being separately desired in their respective congrega- 
fions and circles to promote the pious design. 



^816.] Intdligence. • W^ 

Gentlemen are reqneste^l to make a return of the result of their 
exertions on or before! the First Monday i» April next, after M^hich 
the CorfH>ration will call a meeting cSt the subscribers, tliat they 
raay adopt any measure they may see fit to carry this charitable 
plan into effect, and particularly to choose five Trustees to act 
with the Corporation in the appropriation of the funds. 

In behalf of the Corporation, with the aaeent of tlie Reverend and Hoooarable 
Board of Overseers, 

JNO. T. KIRKLAND, President. 
Harvard College^ December 11, 1615. 

There is now in the press of Cummings and Hilliard, an ele- 
mentary treatise on Mineralogy and Geology, in one volume of 
between 6 and 700 pages, by Professor Cleaveland, of Bowdoin 
College. The work will be accompanied with plates, illustra- 
ting the structure and actual forms of chrystals, and a g^logical 
map of the United States. 

The work is more especially designed for pupils, for gentlemen 
attending miaeralogical lectures ; aud also as a companion for 
travellers, for which purpose particular attention has beei^ devo- 
ted to the designation of all the localities of minerals in the Uni- 
*ted States. A work of this kind is much wanted, for the assistr 
ance of those who are disposed to engage in the study of this use- 
ful and interesting science. From the abilities and application 
of Professor Cleaveland, we have no doubt that this work will be 
executed in a manner to merit .the publick patronage, which it* 
may be hoped will remunerate him» for the study and labour i& 
has required. 

A new volume of the Travels of Dr. Clarke, is announced in 
England, containing the third and last' section of Part the se- 
cond, of the Travels in Greece, Egypt, and the Holy Land, 
containing an account of the author's journey from Athens, by 
land, to Constantinople, with a description of the north of Greece^ 
Macedonia, and Thrace. With a supplement, giving an ac- 
count of his journey from Constantinople to Vienna, and of a vi> 
sit to the gold and silver mines of Hungary. 

A poem by Mr. Thomas Moor^, for which he has been long 
engaged, is to make its appearance this winter. 

An article in the Monthly Magazine says, * We are authonzed 

* to mention that the Parliamentary Debates, published by Han- 

* sard, contain reports of the speeches of Mr. Wkitbread^ often 

* prepared, and always corrected by himself. This is an irapor- 

* tant fact, because those speeches, so published^ afford more coft 



284 Miscellaneous and Literary Intelligence. [Jan. 

* rect details of the opinioos of that Ulugtrioin patriot, than tsar- 

* vive of any of his conteiii|)orarie8. Mr. Fox never wrote 
^ but one speech, and that at the instance of the Editor of this 

* Magazine, who still possesses the manuscript; and Mr. Pitt often 

* declared, that it was utterly impossible for him to recollect 
' even the train of his ideas, subsequent to the delivery of one 
^ of his speeches. On being once asked to correct the copy 

* of a particular speech, he replied, ^' that he could trace so little 
^ resemblance between the newspaper report and the speech 

* which he supposed he had made, that, to do himself justice, he 
' must compose a new speech, for which he had not leisure.' 



>» > 



. Mr. Southey went to Flanders in October, to visit the field of 
Waterloo; and a poem will follow of course. Mr. Swift, a de- 
scendant of the celebrated Deunof St. Patrick, has also publish- 
ed a poem on that subject. 

Memoirsof the life and writings of Miss Ramsay, by her fat- 
ther, the late Dr. Ramsay, of Charleston, are publishing in Lon- 
don from the third American edition. A second edition of the 
Travels of Messrs. Lewis and Clark to the Pacifick Ocean is 
publishing in England. 

M. Carey, Philadelphia, has in press, 

A Tour through Italy, exhibiting a view of its Scenery, its 
Antiquities, and its Monuments; particularly as they are objects 
of Classical Interest and elucidation; with an account of the 
present state of its Cities and Towns ; and occasional observa- 
tions on the recent spoliations of the French. By the Rev. 
John Chetwode Eustace. 2vols. 8vo. with plates. 

The Paradise of Coquettes. A Poem in nine parts. 

M. Carey, Philadelfthia, has published. 

Personal Narrative of Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of 
the New Continent, between the years 1799 — 1804. By Alex- 
ander De Humboldt, and Aim^ Bonpland. Written in French, 
by Alexander de tiumboldt, and translated into English by He- 
len Maria Williams. 

Labaume's Account of the Campaign in Russia. 

Edward Earle, Philadelphia, has published, 

Rhymes on Art ; or, the Remonstrance of a Painter : in two 
parts ; with Notes and a Preface, including Strictures on the 
State of the Arts, Criticism, Patronage, and Publick Taste. By 
Idartin Archer Shee, R. A. 

Roderick, the last of the Wisigoths ; an Epick Poem. By 
Ppbert Southey, Esq. 



IS 16.] Obituary. 285 

Wells and Lilly, Boston, have published, 

A Vindication of Unitarianism, in reply to Mr. Wardlaw'g dis- 
courses on the Socinian controversy. By James Yates, M. A. 

^rom the Glasgow edition. 

* Read, not to contradict or confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to 
find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider.* Lord Bacon, 

Practical Hints to Youog Females, on the Duties of a Wife, 
a Mother, and a Mistress of a Family. By Mrs. Taylor, of 
Ongar, Author of ^ Maternal Solicitude (w a Daughter's Best 
' Interests.' From the third London Edition. 

*• Every wise woman buildeth her house, but tbe foolish plucketii it dewa with 

* her hands.*-: — Solomon. 

Female Scripture Characters ; exemplifying Female Virtues., 
By the author of the ' Beneficial Effects of the Christian Tem- 

* per on Domestick Happiness.' From the third London edition. 

* For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that- 

* we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures, might have hope.*— Aom. ▼. 4. 



OBITUARY. 



DEATHS AT HOME. 

In MassatJmsetts. lo Boston, Abiel Smith, Esq. aged 69. After 
beqoeathing an ample fortune amongst his relations, he gave a snm 
to the Yniversity to found a Professorship of French, and also a sum 
to aid the African school in Boston. At ISalem, Mr. Richard Derby, 
assistant surgeon of the Independence, 74, a young man of promise. 
In Danvers, Hon. Samuel Holton, aged 77. He was a patriot of the 
revolution, a President in Congress during the American war, he has 
filled many civil ofl^es, and was greatly l^loved and respected. 

In Weymouth. The Hon. Cotton Tufts, aged 84. An eminent 
Physiciaui and worthy citizen. 

In Boston. Rev. Samuel Lathrop, D. D. aged 76. Dr. Lathrop 
liad oflSciated in the sacred duties of his profession near half a century. 
He was the senior member of the Corporation of Harvard University, 
and lived and died most highly beloved and respected. 

In Connecticut. Middletown, Col. J. Johnson, aged 79. A patriot of 
former times. In Williagiston, Rev. William King, 58, struck with 
paralysis in his pulpit, and died the same evening. 

In New York. In Cambridge, Mr. Solomon, of a wound from a 
ftcythe. It has been said, that this man married two sisters about the 
same time, lived alternately a week with each, and had thirteen children 
l>j each of them. The two families lived a short distance from each 
other in affection and harniony ; and the two widows and 26 childreB 
tbllowed the deceased to the grave. It is difficult to say whether this 
^ a greater violation of law or of probability. In New York city, 
Sir James Jay, M. D. 



486 Obituary. [Januarjr, 

I 

In Pennsiflmnia. FkUaddphia. Edward Tilghmaii, Esq. an emuwnt 
lawyer. Ptofessor Barton. He had recently retaitied from Europe 
where he went for the benefit of his health. He held one of the me- 
dical professorships, and was dlstingaished for his scientifick attahi- 
Bents. He has published sweral works, and his loss is a publick one. 

In Maryland. The Right Reverend John Carroll, D. D. Arch- 
bishop of the Roman Catholick Church in the United States, aged 80. 
This venerable man was one of the most remarkable men of his time. 
He was sent to the College of St. Omers in France for his educaUoo, 
pasted from thence to the College of liiege, where he was ordained s 
priest, and after surrendering his patrimonial estate to his brother, 
entered the society of the Jesurf s. After the dissolution of that order, 
he acted as their secretary, and travelled as Tutor to one or two En- 
clish Catholick Noblemen. Wlien the American Uevolution oocurred, 
Ee retured to his own country, was employed by the government, 
with Dr. Franklin, Judge Chase and Mr. Carroll on a mission into Canada. 
After our independence was established, at the request of the Amerh 
can Government, though not in an oflficial manner, he was eonseerated 

Sf the Pope, the first Catholick Bishop in the United States, and a short 
me since he was raised to the rank of Archbishop. He possessed 
treat talents and learning, without ostentation, dignity without 
naughtiness, piety without austerity, and his Ufe was a course ofbene* 
ficence ; the people who were under his pastoral care, and the poor 
who constantly experienced his charity, bewail in his loss that of a 
Father. 

In Ftrginia, Elder Benjamin Bump, a black man, aged 80. He 
had been a preacher of the Baptist persuasion upwards of fifty years. 
Charles Grim, one of the surviving veterans, who were made pmonerf 
in the attempt to storm the walls of Quebec, under the gallant Mont- 
gomery. The Viiginia paper that mentions his death says, *' many 
more temperate men than old ' Charley* have died, but an honester 
•ne never did." 

In KentwJq/, General George Trotter, aged 87. 

In Louisiana. Col. Thomas Gales. 

In New Orleans. Midshipman George Parker, who dlsliii^uisbeJ 
himself, and was wounded in the defence of that city. 

DEATHS BY VIOLENCE. 

In Connecticut. Peter Lung, executed for murder. 

In NerV'York. Lieutenant 0*Fling of the Army, suicide. Jamef 
Daffield fell overboard, in a scufl9e and was drowned. In Ctcerv, 
Isaac Lynn, suicide. James Lyons, a schoolmaster, hung himself* 
Elvira Gosman, aged 19, suicide, from despair at seduction. 

In Delaware. A man executed for murder. 

In Maruland. Mr. Edward Owings, murdered by six of his ikther*! 
•laves. They have since X been tried, and four of them eondemned t» 
be executed. 

DEATHS ABROAD. 

In EnglMnd. At Cheltenham, on the 18th of August, 181^ Theod»- 
ne Tudor Randolph, in the SOth year of hn age. Whnt offttitt 



1816.] Ohiimry. %Vt 

emotions does a death like this, in the very bloom of existence, and the 
decease of a character like Heyne, described in our previous pages, in 
the full maturity of his labours and ripened fame, create in our minds ! 
The one is the Joyful gathering of the ripened harvest; the other, an 
untimely blasting of the fairest blossom. The one is the fortunate 
consummation of the greatest glory that human nature can achieve, a 
long course of useful and elevated labour, terminated by a serene re- 
signation of life ; the other, the cruel withering of rising hopes, the de- 
struction of vigorous promise, the barbarous sacrifice of youthful, bril- 
Hant ambition, without permitting it to inscribe its name, in the tem- 
ple of Memory. The death of fortunate old age should be followed 
with hymns of triumph. In the prostration of youthful ardour and ex- 
cellence, the pri oration of that fame it would have merited, exaspe- 
rates the feelings of affliction ; and religion alone can check the torture 
of disappointment impelled to murmur at a dispensation, the severity 
of which time only can subdue. 

Mr. Randolph was the youngest son of the late Richard Randolph, 
'E&q. of Bizarre, Virginia, and nephew of the hon. John Randolph, so 
long distinguished in the parliamentary history of our country. To 
complete his classical education, he became a member of Harvard uni- 
versity, in September, 1812. Although then but seventeen years of 
age, he had made an extensive acquaintance with Greek and Roman 
I^irning ; which he continued to cultivate, while he paid a general at- 
tention to all the sciences, and the different branches of literature. 
His conduct in this literary connexion was equally approved by his in- 
•tructers and associates. He attained to the highest honours the uni- 
rersity distributed, during the period of his matriculation, and was 
among the most promising candidates for its ultimate distinctions, 
when his connexion with &at seminary was suspended by the progress 
af the disease, which terminated in his death. The Corporation of the 
University, in testimony of his literary and moral worth, allowed him 
to reeeive the Bachelor's degree with his class, notwithstanding his in* 
complete residence. 

This young man\ genius was of the first order : his ambition not in- 
feriour to his genius, as correct as it was elevated. In all the virtues 
of the heart, in all gentlemanly accomplishments, in purity, integrity, 
and refinement of life and manners, he was as exemplary, as he was 
eminent for his zeal after literary distinction. The youth we lament, 
was among the most promising of the future hopes of our country. 

Htu mistranda yuer ! si qua fata aspera rumpas f-^ 

J. S. Copley, Esq. R. A. and F. A. A. a native of Boston, and long 
known as an artist of great talents. Walter Burke, Esq. 76, a purser 
in the Navy. He was a brother of the celebrated Edmund Burke, and 
parser of the Victory at the battle of Trafalgar. Lord Nelson died in 
his arms. At Royston, the Rev. Samuel Cary, associate minister of 
Kins's Chapel, Boston, deeply regretted by his parishioners and friends. 
In London, John Coakley Lettsora, F. R. S. a physician of great emi- 
nence, and a man of the most extensive philanthropy. At Birming* 
ham, Mr. Hutton, at a very advanced age. He was a remarkable cha- 
racter. He amassed a large fortune by his industry, and wrote many 
▼eliinies of prose and poetry. -^His history of Birmingham, and his an- 
liqiiariannwearches, have gone through many editions, and are very 



S88 



Obituary* 



[Januarj. 



highly esteemed. There is a great deal of qnaintness and sprightly 
remark in some of his works. 

In Ireland. The Rev. John Thayer, formerly pastor of the Catho- 
lick Church, in Boston. 

In Prussia, Madame Bethmen, one of the Crst actresses in En- 
rope. 

In Spain, The widow of General Porlier. Tliis is a second in- 
stance, in the course of a few months, Madame Labedoyere was th« 
other, of ladies who have died of broken hearts, for the loss of tbeir 
husbands. Where will the satirists of the sex find a parallel casein 
their own ? 



TO CORRESPONDENTS. 



A. B. will find the paper he sent us, left for him as he requeBt- 
ed, and a note within, explaining the reasons for its being re- 
turned. 

The lines sent by * Sidnejf from New-Haven, have perplexed 
us ; we do not understand h's object; they are too dull for ajesti 
and too extravagant to be serious ; and as the postage was not 
paid, we can truly say, that we are at a loss for the author's in- 
tentions. 



NORTH- AMERICAN REVIEW 



AND 



MISCELLANEOUS JOURNAL. 



N'. VI. 



MARCH, 1816. 



A brief e narration of the originall undertakings of the 
advancement of plantations^ into the parts of America^ 
especially shewing the beginnings progress and con- 
tintmnce of that of New-England. Written by the 
, right worshipfullSir Ferdinando Gorges^ Knight and 
Qovernour of the Fort and Island of Plymouth in De- 
vonshire. London, printed by E. Brudenellfor Natkm 
Brook at the Angell in Cornhill^ 1658. 

Sir Fbrdinando Gorges was one of the earliest and 
most persevering of those gentlemen in England who under- 
took to colonize this country. His engaging in it, seems to 
have arisen in part from an accident. Captain Way mouth 
had been employed by Lord Arundel to attempt the dis- 
covery of a North-West passage : while engaged in this, he 
landed on the shore of Maine, and took away some of the 
natives. On his arrival at Plymouth Sir Ferdinando 
Gorges, who was the Governour, Xor k away three of them 
which he kept three years, and it was the information obr 
tained from these, that induced him to engage in the scheme 
of forming a colony. The first effort made by him and his 
associates was to send a hundred people, who landed and 
passed the winter at Sagadahock in l60r. The next year 

Vol. II. No. 6. 37 



fc^- 



290 Sooks relating to America.. [Marcht, 

they returned home, and it was several years afterwards 
before the permanent settlement was made at Plymouth. 
The original company comprehended very extensive grants 
in their charter. Indeed, at the outset, the whole coast of the 
United States was divided between two companies, that of 
Virginia and New-England. These were successively sub- 
divided ; and finally,, in 1631,. a further division took place> 
when Sir Ferdinando Gorges received for his share what 
he calls the Province of Maine, this name owed its origin to 
bim ; but his grant took in only a part of that District, and 
a part of what is now New-Hampshire. We shall make 
one extract as a specimen of his manner r It does not 
appear exactly at what time the work was written, but pro- 
bably about 1632. 

^ Chapter H,^^ The sending supplier to the Colonie and 
the unhappie death of the Lord Cheife Justice {Pop- 
ham) before their departure. 

The supplies being furnished and all things ready onely 
attending for a faire wind, which hapned not before the 
news of the cheife justice death was posted to them, to be 
transported to the discomfort of the poor planters, but the 
ships arriving Ihere in good time, was a great refreshing to 
those that had had their store house and most of their pro- 
visions burnt the winter before. 

Besides that they were strangely perplexed with the 
great and unseasonable coW they suffered, with that extre* 
mity, as the like hath not been heard of since, and it seemes 
was universall, it being the same yeare that our Thames^ 
were so lockt up that they built Hieir boates upon it, and 
sould provisions of severall sorts to those that delighted io 
the novelties of the times, but the miseries they had past, 
were nothing to that they suffered by the disasterous news 
they received of the death of the Lord cheife justice, that 
suddainely followed the death of their President, but the 
latter was not so strange, in that he was well stricken ifl 
years before he went, and had long been an infirme man. 
Howsoever heartned by hopes, willing he was to die iff 
acting something that might be serviceable to God, and 
honorable to his country, but that of the death of the cbeif 
justice was such a corrosive to all, as struck them with 
despaire of future remedy, and it was the more augmented* 





gben thej heard of the (liealh of) Sir Jokn Gilbert, elder 

pother of Ralph Gilbert Ihal was rlien llieir Piesident, a 

tma worth/ to be bidoved of Ihein ail for his iiidusliy, and 

c^e for their well beitia;; the President was lo return to 

settle the slute his brother had lefl bim, upon which all 

resolved lo qui! the place, and with one conaeDt lo away, 

by which nieanes all our former hopes were fiuzen lo death, 

thoogh Sir Francis Popliain could doI so give il over, but 

^Bontirined lo Mend ihilher aeverall years after in hope of 

^^Klter fortunes, hut found it fruillesse and was necessitated 

^^K last to sit down with the losse he had already undergone. 

^^Mnertcfl painted lo Ike life, a true history of the originall 
toiderlakin^s of the iidvanctment of Plantations into 
those parts, with a perfect reliUian of our Knglisk DiB- 
^^^coveries, shewing their beginning, yroi^reifs, and con- 
^Klinnance, from, the yenr 1628 to 1658, tleduring tite 
^^^forms of their government, Policie", he^igionn, Man- 
^^^ners, Cmtoms, MiHturif DiscipUnti Warres with Ike 
Indian»,lhe Commodities of lhe>r Counlrieit,a Descrip- 
tion of their Tuiiines, and Flaven^, the iwreabe of their 
trading, with (hf names of their Gove ruours and Ma- 
gintrates. More especially an absolute Aarrative q/' 
the North parts of America and if the diECoeeries and 
plantations of our English in New England. H'rillea 
by Sir Ferdinando Gorges Knight and Oovemour <f 
the Fort and Island of PUmouth in Devonshire, one of 
the first and cheifest promoters of those Plantations. 
Published since his decease, by his Grand-child Ferdi- 
nando Gorges Esijuire, who hnlh much enlargrd it and 
added severall accurate descriptions of his owfie. A 
mork now at last exposed for the pnblick good, to stir 
up the heroick and active spirits of these limes to benefit 
their Country, and eternise their names by such hono- 
rable attempts. For tlie reader's clearer understanding 
of the Conntry's, they are lively described in a cottir 

P pleat and exquisite map, yioit post funera virtus. 
Ldndon: Printed by K. Brudenell, for Natkatiiel 
Brook, dwelling at the Angel in Cornhilt IbSIt. 4ta. 
pp. 60. 

This is altogether a different -work from the one mention- 
ed in the List article. It contains a preface by the elder 



294 Books relating to America^ [March, 

are colder than those which lie toward the Weni or sunset* 
ting, and those which have the evening wiudes on fhem are 
warmer than those which have the niurning windes, which 
being so, it follows that the temperature ot' the ayr in those 
regions is most proper and peculiar to the bodies of those of 
our nation, who being accustomed to a climate somewhat 
temperate, are neither able to endure extremity of cold, nor 
immoderate heat." p. 45. 

The strange and delectable history of tht discoverie and 
conquest of tht Provinces of Peru in the iiouth Sea. 
And of the notable things which there are found : and 
also of the bloudie ciuill varres which there happened for 
gouernm.ent. Written in foure bookes by Augustine 
SaralCj auditor for the Emperour his Maiestie in the 
same prouinces andfirme land. And also of the ritche 
mines of Potosi. Translated otit of the Spanish 
tongue, by T. Nicholas. Imprinted at London by 
Richard JhoneSy dwelling ouer against the Fawlcon, by 
Holburne bridge 15B1. Black letter, 4to. 

This is a history with rather minute details of the first 
discovery and conquest of Peru and the adjoining Piovin- 
ces. The insatiable avarice of the Spaniards inspired 
them with such a spirit of daring enterprise, and such inflex- 
ible fortitude in suffering, that a mere handful of men were 
sufficient to overrun those beautiful countries, which were 
fiwarming with population. The unfortunate IndianSi 
though they were accustomedto warwilh each other, opposed 
their myriads in vain to the weapons, the skill, and the coU' 
rage of their invaders. The achievements of the three 
Pizarros, Almagro, de Castro, Benalcasar, Alvarado, &c. &c. 
seem almost incredible. The weakness of the natives for- 
tified the presumption and confidence of these captains, to 
such a degree, that although they had only a few companies 
of men under their command, and were surrounded by in- 
numerable crowds of hostile Indians, they paid but slight 
deference to the mother countrv, and soon tell into violent 
quarrels with each other, in the course of which the wretch- 
ed Peruvians were reveng;ed for their sufferings, by the 
Spaniards themselves. Most of the original invaders, both 
officers and soldiers, perished in fighting with each other. 

The following extracts will give an idea of the style. 




Books relating to America. 

fbe first reUleB Bome of the cualom» of Itie Peruvians, and 
S remarkable piece of policj iu the aovereign. The next 
saya somelhin^ of ihe Amazons ; and gives the origin ol'rats 
in Boutb America. The last is a cuinparison ut' Fizarro 
fSfd Almagro. 

' These Itiilians dwell not in houses, but iheir abiding is 
Rider Irees, and shaiiowes inaiie for (he purpose. Their 
ko'neD were garments made of collon u'oll, like unto gonnea 
(liich come dowue lo their feele. The men were shirtes 

rtne lo (he knees, and certain mantels upon the same, and 
Dlhough their attire is after one sorte, Ihey differ in the 
Ufire of Iheir heads, accordynge to Ihe rise of euery coun- 
Jey: some use Iheir haire boiinde up wilh laces of woll, 
nine wilh one lace, and other with many laces of sundry 
colours, so there is none bul hath some deuice in his hed, 
bid in euery pronince of a seuerall kinde." 
L " All (he Indians of Ihe playnes are deuided into three 
Hirtes, the one are called Yngas, another sorte are called 
^allanes, and (he Ihirde Mochicas : in euery pronince (bey 
speeche, nolnllhslandinge the noblemen, called Ca- 
Kibes, besides their natural speech doo all generally under- 
^nde Ihe language of Ihe ciflie of Cusco, because Ihe 
tpge of Peru, called Guaynacaua, father of kinge Alabali- 

, thought il a base (hinge ihal his subiectes, especially 
Ifibte men, should talk with him by inlerprelera, nhereupoa 
mded Ihat all the Caseikea of his country and 
and their brethren and kinsmen should sende 
me'iT children to seme and allende on the kinge in his court, 
hitler Ihe colour to learn ihe courtly speeche : but cheefely 
me kinge'a iJitenle was (o assure his countrey trith (he 
priocipall men of bis kingdome, in hauinge their children 
in pledge. But bee as it nill, hy (his meanus il came ta 
f aBse, that all the nobililie of his lande, understoode and 

luid apeake ihe language u^ed in court, as in Flauilden 
ue Gfinlilmen and others speake Ihe Frenche tongue: so 
||al in conclusion, any Spanyarde that attained (o the Cub- 

t speeche, mought wel passe through Ihe dominions of 

eru, as well in the playnes as in Ihe muunlayncs, to under- 
^nd and (o be undeisIooJ among the cbeefest." Chap. 6, 

"The Indians of Chili goe apparelled like unto the In- 
^OB of Peru, both men and women are of a good iesture 
tbd feede ordinarilv of such meates as those of Peru. Be- 



I 



296 Books relating to America. [March, 

yond Chili 38 degrees from the line, are two greate men of 
power, which maintaine alwayes war, the one against the 
other, and eche of them is of power to bringe into the 
feelde 200,000 men of war : the one was named Leuchen- 
gorma, which is lord of an island, which standeth two 
leagues from the firme land, dedicated to his idols, in which 
Island standeth a great temple, whereunto appertained 2000 
preestes." 

'* The Indians of this Leucfaengorma, informed the Spa- 
nyardes, that 50 leagues beyond that place, between two 
rivers, was a great prouince all inhabited with wemen, which 
consente not to haue any sorte of men among them, except 
a certaine time convenient for generation : and then if any 
happen to bee with childe, and bringe forth men childrenf 
they are after certain yeares sent to their fathers, and the 
daughters which they likewise beare, remaineth with them: 
these wemen also are in subiection to Leuchengorma. The 
Queene of these wemen is called Guayboymilla, which in 
their language, is as much as to say Heaueti of Golde, 
because the reporte was that great quantitie of Gold grow- 
eth there, and thereof they make exceedinge ritch cloth, and 
of all their commodities they pay tribute to Leuchengor- 
ma. And although often times the Spanyardes haue had 
notice of this count rey, yet they neuer tooke the discovery 
in hande, because Don Diego would not abide to inhabit ii 
the coast : and also sit hence that time, Pedro de Valdiuia 
was sent to inhabit the countrey, who would not bring fail 
desire of furniture to passe, conuenient for the voiage, al- 
though he hath inhabited three degrees beyond the Equi- 
noctial southward, and also perfect knowledge of habitation 
was knowen to bee vnto 40 degrees alonge that coast, espe- 
cialjye one shippe, which Don Gabrieil de Carouiall, Bishop 
of Piacentia, sent in discouery, which had passed through 
the Strayght of Magalanes, who from the said straite came 
sayling along that coast northward, unlill he arriued at the 
port of the cittie of the kinges, and before the coming of this 
shippe there was no memory of Rats found in all Peru, bo 
that it seemed that the first broode of Rats came out of that 
tthip aiici sithence that time, al the citties of Peru are reple- 
nislicd with aboundance ; it is thought that among ch«8ts 
and fardels of marchandize they were carried from place to 
place: whereupon the Indians do name them Ococha, 
which is to say, a vcrmine comen out of the sea." Chap* 
2, B. 3. 



^'Sooks relating lo America. 

1^' Chap. 9. Of the custoraes and qiialilies of llie Maiqiiesse, 
_gDon Francisco Pisarro, and the discouerer, Don Diego 
dt Almagro." 

" Silhens Ihis hislorie and discoiiery of the Proumce of 
Peru, balh origen from the Iwo valiant Caplaities, of whom 
hylher unto we have spoken. Who are the Marqiiesse 
Don Francisco Pisarro and Don Diego de Almagro: 
It ia meele and conuenient to write Iheyr ciistonies and 
qoalitiea, comparing Ihern logelber, as Plularehlts vselh, 
when he wrilelh of I wo Cap.aines, which are in any respect 
comparable one to Ihe other: and lonching the linage of 
these our Caplaines, at the beginning of ihis hislorie, is 
written as inucb as could be kiiowen. But in the residue 
they were both vaiiauiil persona of great courage, they 
were also great sufferers of pannes and trauails, and verie 
Ter(uuu8, (Ley were freends lodooplesure to al men, at thejr 
owne cost. They were much lyke of inclynalion, espe- 
cially in the stale of lyuing, for neylher of them was mar- 
ried, allhougji Ihe youngest of thein bothe at the lyme of 
Iheyr death, was about (hree score aud fiieyeeres of age." 

" They were bolh inclined lo affajres of warres, although 
Don Diego de Almagro, when occasion of warres wanted, 
applied himselfe lo thins:es of gayneK: they were neere of 
one age, when they tooke ihe conquest of Peru in bande, 
in which disconerie and conquest, they loo ke Ihe paynes 
which hath bene declared, although ihe Marquesse dyd 
aufier greater trauaile, and passed greater peryls than Don 
Diego. For whylst Ihe one was occupied in Ihe grealest 
part of the disconerie, Ihe other abode in Panama, prouid- 
mg necessaries and furniture for him, as lykewise hath bene 
declared. They were bolh noble minded and alwayes they 
pretended and conceyued haughty Ihinges, they were gen- 
tle and amyable lo Iheir soldiours, they were equall in lyber- 
allitie : although in shewe Don Diego had Ihe aduanlage, 
because he loued Iba! his gift should be published bnd 
blowne abroadc : inio which condition the Marqnesse was 
contrarie, for he would not permit that his lyberal gifts 
hould be spoken of: but ralher procured lo have Iheni kept 
in secrele, hauing more respeol toprouidefor Ihe necessitie 
of such as wanted Ihem, than to obtain a vainglorious report." 

" It once happened ibat a pooi'e soldiour, had bis cheefe 
rilcbes in a horse, which dyed of an unknown disease, of 
which miiihap the 31arques3e hauing understanding, and 

Vol. U. N". 15. :!8 



1 
I 



29d- Books relating to America. [March*. 

coming downe into his Tennis Court, thinking to find the. 
poor soldioiir there, he brought in his bosom a wedge of 
golde, of ten pound weight to giue unto him with his owne- 
bands : and not finding him there at that instant, he chaunced 
to make a match at play, and without putting off bis coate,. 
he played his match, because he would not that any should 
see the weds^e o^ gold which was in bis bosom. The play 
continued the space of three houres, and then came the sol- 
diour for whome the golde was brought, the which he de- 
lyuered unto him secretly, saying : that he had rather haue 
giuen him three times as much, then to suffer the paynes,. 
which he had taken in his long tarrying: with many otheF 
lyke examples, which might at length be spoken of.'* , 

" So that alwayes the Marquesse alme;s and giftes were 
distributed by his owne handes, and with as much secresie 
as might be, yea, and alwayes procured the receyuers to 
keepe silence : and for this consideration, Don Diego 
was held to be more liberall, for although he gaue largely, 
yet he had a forme how it should seeme much more than it 
was: notwithstanding, touching this vertue of magnificepcei 
they may justly be called equall. The Marquesse also was 
wont to say, that considering the company of aduenture and 
fellowship made betweene them, that neither of them could 
give any thing wherein the other had not his part and there- 
fore as lyberall was he, which permitted the other to give: 
and for comprobation tliis shall se/ne — That where they 
were bothe the ritchest men, both in rent and treasure, and 
as lyberally might dispend the same, as any Piince in the 
world, not hauing a kingely crowne : yet they came bothe 
to death with great pouertie : that at t^is day -there is not 
any remembrance of any thing proper, which was theyrs; 
sauing, that of all theyr goods and lands, they had not 
wherewithal to burie them: as the lyke is written of Cato 
and Silla and of many other Romane Captaynes, which were 
buried of almes." 

"These two valiant Captaines, were affectioned to doo 
for theyr seruants and souldiours, bothe to em itch them, and 
todeliuer them from peryls. But the Marquesse dyd rath- 
er in that respect exceed ; for once it happened, passing the 
Biver called Barzanca, that the great Currant carried away 
one of his Indians of seruice, which by mishap was fallen 
therein ;: and when the Marquesse sawe the peryl of his 
seruaunt, he forthwith stripped him?elfe, and leapt into. the 



1816.] Books relating fo America. 299 

Riuer, hauing good skill of swimming, and pluckt him out 
bj the haire of his head: putting himself in great daungeri, 
through the extreame force of the Currant, in such sort that 
the valiantest man in all his host, durst not take the lyke 
enterprize in hande : whereupon some of his Captaines dyd 
reprehend his ouer much, boldnesse, vnto whome he aun»» 
sweredy Ye know not what thing tt is to loue a seruant 
well-" 

** Although the Marquesse gouerned long time, and more 
quietly : yet Don Diego was more ambitious, and desirous 
of rule and dignitie. Bothe of them concerned antiquitie, 
in thyre ordinarie apparell, euen from their youth upwardes, 
especially the Marquesse, who euer used to wear ordinarily 
a Coate ef black cloth, with long quarters, and short wast- 
ed, his shoes of a white Deere skin, and a white felt hat, 
and his Sworde and Dagger of ancient facion. And when 
through the importunate request of his seruants, vpon any 
solemne holy day^ he happened to weare a Gowne furred 
with Martins, which the Lord Marquesse Cortes had sent 
to him from New Spaine : as soone as he came from Church, 
he would throw it from him, and vsed to haue a towell 
about his necke. In the tyme of Peace, he vsed much to 
play at Tennis, or at Bowles, and therefore cheeflie he vsed 
the Towell about his necke, to wype the sweate from his 
face." 

"Bothe these Captaynes were most patient in paynestafc- 
ing, and also in any extremitie of hitnger : But particularly 
the Marquesse shewed the same in the exercise of the sayde 
pastimes, for there were very fewe young meti that could 
endure with him. He was also more inclyned to an^ kinds 
of pastime than Don Diego^ so that many tymes he would 
play at the Bowles all the whole <lay, and passed not with 
whom he played, although it wereeyther Marriner or Myl- 
ler, nor yet would permitte any to take up his Bowie for 
him, nor to use towarde him any vsuall ceremonies of due- 
tyj accustomed to his Estate and dignitie. It was some 
waighty matter that should cause him to leaue from playi 
especially when he was a looser. But if at any tyme he 
had advertisement of rebellion, or insurrection of Indiansi 
then forthwith his Armor was at hand, and Launce in read- 
inesse, he vsed in such extremities, to ryde poste alone 
through the Cittie, towarde the place where the altercation 
was/'withowttarying for more company." 



309 Books relating to America. [Marcfaj 

" These Captaynes were so ready, and of such haughtj 
courage id the Indian warre, that ey ther of them would not 
let to giue the encounter, although the enemies were in 
number 100,000. They were of good understanding and 
judgment in any thing that was to be prouided for the 
wanes or for gouernment : especially being bothe men vn- 
learned, for they could neyther write, reade, or yet firme, 
which was a thing of great defect in such noble Personages, 
dealing in such waighty affayres. Yet neuerthelesse, in all 
other thinges of vertuous inclynations, they shewed them- 
selves to be noble men, onely the former want excepted, 
wherein the auncient wyse men, dyd hold such want for an 
argument of basenesse of lynage.'' 

*^ The Marquesse was a man that had great confidence in 
his seruants and freendes ; All the dispatches which he 
made as well in gouernment, and reprehencion of Indians, 
he vsed to make two markes, betweene the which, Antonio 
Picardo^ his Secretary, fyrmed the name of Francisco Pi- 
sarro. But these men may excuse themselues as Ouidiw 
excused Romulus^ saying : that he was an euyll astronomer, 
but rather had more knowledge in Armies then in Letters." 

f* Bothe these Caplaynes were so affable and playne, among 
theyr people, that they vsed oftentimes to goe from house 
to house in the Ciftie, to visit thyr neygbours alone, and 
tooke such fare as they founde, and were alwayes will'ng to 
come to any honest neyghbour, that would inuite ey ther of 
them. They were equally abstynent, and moderate in theyr 
feeding and dyet, as also in refraining of sensualitie, and es- 
pecially from abusing of any Spanish women : for they 
deemed that they could not deale therein, without preiudice 
of tbeyre neyghbours, whose wiues or daughters, those wo- 
men were : they neyther ouermuch inclyned to the Indian 



women." 



" The Marquesse had the company of an Indian Gentle- 
woman, who was sister to Atabalij)af by whome he had a 
Sonne, named Don Gotisaloy who deceased at fourteene 
yeeres of age : and a daughter named Donna Franci^ca. 
By another Indian woman of Cusco he had another sonne 
called Don Francisco. 

" Do7i Diego de AlmagrOy had that sonne of whom wc 
have spoken, who slewe the Marquesse, which sonne he 
had by an Indian woman of Panama. They bothe receyued 
honour at the Emperour's hands, for as hath beejie declared, 



1816.] Russian and American settlemmtSf &c. 301 

fo Don Francisco PisarrOj he gaue the tyttle or addition 
of Marquesse, and made him Oovernour of Newe Castile, 
and aUo ordajned him Knight of the order of Saint James." 

" To Don Diego de AlmagrOy he gaue the gouernment 
of Newe Toledo, and the tyltle of cheefe Discouerer. 
Particularly the Marquesse was greatly aiTectioned, and 
helde in greate feare and reuerence the name of his Males- 
tie: insomuch that he abstayned from dooing of many 
thinges that he had power to doo, declaring that he would 
not that his Maiestie should say, how he ascended in the 
land: and oftentymes when he was present at the melting 
of the Sylver and Golde, he would ryse from his c hay re, 
to take up the graynes of Sylver and Golde, which fell from 
the clypping saying : that with his mouth when handes 
fayled, he woulde gather together the kinge's portion." 

"These two Gentlemen, were equall euen in they re kindes 
of death, for the Marquesse brother, put Don Diego to 
death, and Don Diego his sonne slewe the Marquesse. 
The Marquesse was desirous to benefit the Counfrey, by 
tyllage and other commodities." 

^^ He built a fayre house in the Cittie of the Einges : he 
also built for the benefite of the Cittie, two rowes of mylles, 
along the Riuer's side, in which buylding he occupied him- 
selfe at all tymes of leysure, giuing his councell and opinion 
to all to the Maister workmen : He tooke great paynes in 
setting forwarde the workes of the Cafhedrall Church of the 
Cittie of the Kinges, and other lyke monuments." 

This book is curious as a specimen of early typography 
and for the block engravings, with which it is ornamented ; 
but these peculiarities it is not necessary here to describe. 

V 

for the north-american journal. ^ 

Sir, 

If the following minutes, relating to the Russian and 
American settlements on the North- West Coast of Ameri- 
ca, and which were hastily written down from the verbal 
communications of a friend, who visited those settlements, 
will gratify the curiosity of your readers, they are at your 
4iervice. C. I), 

Tq the Editor, 



^02 Russian and American Settlements [March, 

At the settlement of Norfolk Sound in latitude 57^ north, 
there are about 600 Russians. The first settlement was 
made by Berrenotf, in 179*2, then a merchant, who fought 
«ome battles with the natives who had entrenched them- 
selves in a fort made of trees, and impenetrable by either 
musket or cannon shot ; the natives fired throu^^h small 
loop holes, made in their semicircular entrenchment, while 
the Russian vessels kept up a long continued fire from 
their troops and ships, with little or no effect. 

BerrenofiT then had recourse to shells, and succeeded 
eventually in throwing a few over the breast work, which 
fell among and destroyed several of the natives, and drove 
them from the fort, of which the Russians took possession, 
and the natives submitted. For these and other services 
in making the establishment, the Russian Emperour created 
him a Count of the Empire and Oovernour of the Settle- 
ment. He employs thd Russians and the Natives nnder 
his control in fishing for the Sea Otters, and catching the 
few seal which he sends to the China market, or sells to the 
American vessels at the settlement, in exchange for sup- 
plies for his troops and people. His armed force is com- 
posed of Russians and Kodiac Indians, drilled and disci- 
plined in the Russian manner. There are no white women, 
and only four or five half bloods; but the wives of the sub- 
altern officers and soldiers, and the mistresses of the gover- 
nour and other commissioned officers, are the copper 
coloured native women. Such is the quantity of peltry 
collected, that it is not unusual for the Count to give twenty 
thousand dollars to a single ship for the freight of furs to 
China. Another source of considerable revenue is derived 
frorh supplying American vessels with canoes and Kodiac 
Indians under Russian officers, who goon the coast of Cali- 
fornia and kill otters. Each canoe is manned with three In- 
dians, and a vessel ot 200 or 250 tons takes with her fifty 
canoes and Indians and Russians, who are on board the ship 
until she arrive-i in the water frequented by the otters. 
Their manner of killins; them is when the wind is calm and 
the sea smooth the canoes leave the ship, which is never 
done when the sea is rough or when there is much wind. 
In this case there is no hunting : the otters in calm weather 
frequently sleep \vi(h their heads out of the water, at other 
times they sport in schools, springing nearly out of th« 



1816.] on the North-West Coast of America* 30^ 

water, and in pursuit of their food, which is the squid of our 
coast. 

Fifteen canoes form one partj, each with three Indians,, 
and one other canoe having a Russian and two Indians ia 
it. The canoes are made of the skin of the Sea Lion, drawn 
over a light wooden frame ; and swim literally on the sur- 
face of the water. No one can go in them but the Indians,, 
except one Russian for each party, and he sits in the centre, . 
for the purpose of keeping an account of the game killed, 
and putting it down to the credit of the fortunate individual. 

The canoes are about fifteen feet long, quite narrow ; 
each having three holes, in which the Indians sit and con- 
ceal themselves. They approach the otters very silently. 
The stillness of night pervades the little fleet in its ap- 
proach to its intended sporting or sleeping prey. This 
approach is made in a circle continually decreasing, while 
the canoe having the Russian is on the outside. At the 
side of each Indian is a spear, his arrows and bow, and a 
small piece of wood, on which he makes a notch each time 
he kills an otter. When the circle has become sufficiently 
contracted, each Indian fires his arrow, on which is his 
name, and at a signal they all rush to pick up the dead 
otters. The Russian sits in his canoe with a book in his 
hand, in which he gives credit to e^ch Indian for the otters 
lie may have killed. This is determined in favour of that 
Indian whose arrow is found nearest the centre of the 
otter's ear. Be there ever so many arrows contributing, to 
the otter's death,, only one Indian is credited for it, and 
that Indian is the one, whose arrow, with his name on it,, as 
was before said, is found nearest the ear hole. 

These accounts are kept with the most honourable accu- 
racy. And on their return to the Russian settlement, the 
most successful Indians are much applauded by the gover- 
nour, with a view to excite ambition, and they are all re- 
warded by receiving from the government stores, tobacco, 
rum, coarse cloathing, and other articles, for the supply of 
Indian wants, and for the gratification of Indian vanity ; and 
these supplies and gratifications are furnished in proportion, 
to-the credit, on the Russian subaltern's book. 

The governour receives one half of all the skins, as a 
compensation for the use of the canoes, and for the services 
of his subjects. 



364 Russian and American SMlimmts [March, 

Wbile on board the ship, they are all armed with a crease 
or dagger whi'^h they cootiunally wear. It would be easjr 
for them to destroy the officers and crew and take posses- 
sion of the ship. But this is prevented by always taking 
a native woman of high rank, in the ship, to whom they are 
at all times obedient and submissive. She must be treated 
as her rank demands, with particular attention, and receives 
many presents. Besides, the Indians well know if thej 
took possession of the ship, they would all be inevitably 
lost from their ignorance of navigation, and utter inability of 
managing a large vessel. They are fed while on board 
with whale oil and berries, which are put up into casks 
previous to their leaving Norfolk Sound, as a Sea Stock 
for the Passage. 

The American settlement is on the banks of the Colum- 
bia, about ten degrees south of the Russians. In the year 
a conveyance was made, by the natives, of a large 
tract of this country to Captains Kendrick and Gray of 
Boston, and the deed is supposed to be in possession of 
son^e merchant who was interested in that expedition. A 
few weeks since, some Americans from New-York, under 
those calling themselves the North West American fur 
company, of which Jno. Jacob Astor is the President, 
planted themselves here; having some connexion with the 
English North West Company in Canada. After Captain 
Porter in the Essex had destroyed the English South Sea 
Whalers, and broken up their fishery, the Essex, as we all 
know, was, after a very severe action, captured by the 
British. Then the Cherub and Racoon sloops of war 
were despatched to capture the Americans at the Sand- 
wich Islands, and destroy their trade both there and at the 
Columbia river. But the Americans received over land 
information of the expedition, through the medium of the 
English Fur Company stationed about half way from the 
western and eastern sides of the continent; and here it may 
be remarked, that the English have trading lo§ houses es- 
tablished all the way from Canada across the continent to the 
head of the Columbia river ; so that they were enabled to 
p:ive the information before the British vessels arrived. The 
English traders represented themselves as being out of pro- 
visions, and proposed, that the Americans should sell them 
their provisions and furs on hand, break up Ihe settlement 
pcacealjly, and receive bills on Canada in payment. To 



M II 

I iBiB.J on the North West Coast of America. WS^^^M 

these lermslhe Americans agreed. When Ihe Cherub and ^^M 
Racoun arrived, tiiey found fheir expecled game had ^M 



ived, they found their expecled game had 
escaped. And they expressed much disappoint aien I that 
their expedition, in this particular, should have been ren- 
dered abortive, especially as very glowing and highly 
coloured pictures uf the wealth or the selllement and the 
great amount of prize-money they should oblain, had been 
constanlly presented to their view by those who ordered 
the expedition. The natives about Columbia river, on 
having the conveyance made known to them, expressed 
their dislike of the transaction, and wished to join the 
Americans in resisting Ihe English by force, shonld they 
come. It was impossible tor them nul to Suppose Ihe 
£ngtish a superiour order of men, when they saw Ihe 
Americans resorting to measures, by which they might 
secure their properly without fighting. But the Ameri- 
cans did secure iheir property by the Canada bills, and the 
Brilish obtained no spoils. 

It is evident that the north west trade, and the settlementB 
of the Americans and Bugsians in that quarter, have excited 
the altenlioti of the English. In a late Quarterly Review, 
there is an article, containing many remarks apparently of 
much more import than Ihe ordinary speculations of a peri- 
odical paper. Among other things it is remarked, that the 
Russians having extensive settlements on the eastern coast 
of Asia and on Ihe western coast of America, by adopting 
a course of policy, different from that they have pursued re- 
specting Eamskcatka, mighf, for a lime at least, secure to 
herself Ihe complete command of the trade of the north 
. west coast of America and all its fisheries, and with proper 
L management soon obtain the monopoly of the fur trade to 
Lthe China market. And it is added, after a long course of 
nooning, lending to produte a clashing of interest between 
i and the Russians, " that Ihe increasing scarcity of pel- 
"^1 cannot fail to produce a collision of interests between 
Igland, Russia, and Ihe United States, which will at some 
ime or*other probably terminale in war." 
[ The settlement of Count Beri-enoff is at times visited by 
pe publick ships of Russia, having with them olEcers of 
Ireat experience and information. They are always accom- 
jnaied by a large number of young men of noble families, in 
Bte capacity of midshipmen, and in other minor situations. 
^hese young men are without exception, of the first edu- 

fution. 

t Vol. 11. No. 6, 



i 




306 Improved Portable Stove. [March, 

There is a continual communication kept up between 
Ana!Hska on the western side of America, and Petersburg 
in Russia. The rout is from Norfoli( Sound, or Mount 
Etli^ecupibe, across the water and up the Shotkasea, seven 
hundred miles to Sbotska. From Sholska by land to Jeer- 
juskha: about six hundred and fifty miles from Jeerjuskha, 
they go up the river Lena fifteen hundred miles in boats, in 
a calm they pole the vessel, in a breeze sail, until they 
arrive at Cartz^u. From Cartzeu they go by land in a 
coach conveyance to Erskoutsa,. about one hundred and 
seventy miles. E'^skoutsa is a large place having about 
nine hundred houses. From Erskoutsa they proceed in a 
carriage to Tompsk about eight himdred miles. From 
Tonipsk ihey proceed to Tobolskow about fifteen hundred 
Russian miles, (longer than our miles.) From Tobolskow 
in the same conveyance to Tuimen, about one hundred and 
sixtv miles. From Tuimen to Casan about nine hundred 
miles. Casan is a large city, having fifteen thousand houses. 
From Casan to Moscow three hundred and sixty miles; 
from Moscow to St. Petersburg four hundred and eighty 
miles, it beina altogether about six thousand five hundred 
and twenty miles. 



to the editor* 
Sir, 

From a number of the publication of the society for the 
encouragement of National Industry in Paris, which is at 
the Atheneum, we have translated the following account of 
a' most useful improvement in the common foot stove; such 
stoves are much used among us in our houses, and in tra- 
velling. This improvement makes it much more safe, 
agreeable, and economical ; and its advantages in a nursery 
or a sick chamber, at times when a fire is not wanted, would 
alone make it valuable. . The construction appears simple, 
but if one could be imported from Paris, it might be more 
easily imitated. We think it would be worth the attention 
of some of our manufacturers in this line. 

Madame Axigust'me Chnmbon de Montaux presented 

to the society for the encouragement of the economical arts, 

at the publick sitting of the 10th of May last, economical 

foot stoves, which she has nwaiedaugtLstines, and for which 

she has taken a patent. 



1816.] Improved Portable Stote. 307 

Madame Chambon, who made use of stoves containing a 
cup filled with ashes and burning coals, like many other 
women, to whom this little piece of furniture has become 
necessary, found that they only answered one useful pur- 
pose, that of warming the feety and that they had many 
defects, some of which she has detailed in a publick notice, 
printed in January, 1815. 

The principal inconvenience of ordinary stoves, is the 
necessity of often replenishing the fire, of sometimes exhal« 
ing unhealthy vapours or disagreeable odours, by means of 
the charcoal or substances sticking to the shoes, which fall 
through the superior openings on the fire ; of the danger of 
fire from them, when they shut badly ; and of being far from 
economical, from the necessity of keeping up the fire, which 
is partly wasted each time that the stove is emptied, to re- 
plenish it, according to the common practice. 

These inconveniences have induced many persons to 
make use of boxes lined with tile, in which a piece of cast 
iron strongly heated is placed ; others to obviate the «em- 
barrassment of renewing the fire employ, particularly intra* 
▼elling, bottles filled with boiling water, or bags filled with 
hot sand ; but all these contrivances do not answer the pur- 
pose of economy, which ought to be the object, since a fire 
is necessary to heat the iron, the sand, or the water. 

The stove of Madame Chambon partakes of none of 
these defects ; it is composed of a lamp and a reservoir for 
heat placed above it ; it has the advantages of being easily 

i prepared, heated, and of maintaining an equal heat which 
asts a long time, of not being expensive, and of serving 
many other purposes than ihat of warming the feet ; and of 
being as easily made use of by men as by women. 

The form of the aiigustine is nearly the same as that of 
the stoves ; they may be easily decorated, having no holes 
on the top as in the common stoves. They may be cover- 
ed with carpeting fixed on the frame, decorated with fringe, 
and imitating a common footstool of our parlours. 

For the use of men, they may have a pulpit form ; they 
may be easily placed under a desk, to keep the feet warm, 
without the flame of the lamp, or any odour being perceived. 
The lamp fed with s xh oil as is used for Argand lamps, 
or what is better, with oil from the marrow of beef, is en- 
closed within three boxes of tin. The first serves to contain 
the oil and the wick ; the second is destined to receive the 
oil that may be thrown out by aqy violent motion : it is fixed 



308 Improved Portable Stove. [March, 

IP the middle of the largest box placed underoeath the re- 
servoir of heat. The part which holds the wick, is sur- 
mounted with a little canopj of copper widened at top, 
which envelopes the flame, and appears intended to create 
a slight current of air about it, to prevent it from smoking. 
We have veritiedy as Madame Chambon had announced, 
that when the wick is well disposed, it does not blacken the 
reservoir of heat ; and that when it is fed with common oil, 
it consumes about seven centimes (one and a half cents,) 
worth in fourteen or fifteen hours, and double this sum, when 
the} oil is from marrow, and about twenty centimes, (four 
cents,) when olive oil at thirty-two cents a pound is made 
use of. 

I found an advantage in making use of a wick of asbestos; 
but it is rather difficult to procure them, and it always 
covers itself after a certain time, with carbon, from which 
it must be cleared. With good olive oil, Madame Cham- 
bon says that it makes no carbon, and that its flame is as 
beautiful at the end of fourteen or fifteen hours, as when it 
was first lighted. 

The reservoir of heat is placed six or seven centimetres 
above the wick of the lamp : it is of tinned copper, some- 
times oval, at others of the form and size of an octavo book, 
and near three centimetres (one inch) in thickness: it is 
filled with sand and nicely soldered on all sides ; it is 
placed in an opening in the midst of the frame of the stove, 
and is taken out by means of a ring. 

The preparation of the augustines is easy ; it is only 
necessary to fill the reservoir of the lamp with oil to a 
point marked, to draw up the wick to a proper height for 
burning, and keep it there with a pin, and place the reser- 
voir of heat over it. The side door of the lamp is left open 
for a few minutes, and afterwards the copper conductor is 
put over the flame. In half an hour the reservoir is warm, 
in forty minules it attains to blood heat, and in a few mo- 
ments after willl)urn the skin if it be touched. The heat 
may be diminished or increased by enlarging or decreasing 
the wicks. The lamp requires trimming every six or seven 
hours. 

Besides the advantages, that there is no danger of fire from 
it, of its warming the feet very perfectly and in a very even 
manner, and of preventing very often the necessity of keep* 
ing a fir^ in the chimney, the augustine presents many 




i 



18.] Massachusetts btstilulion. 

Mliers. When we ar« afraid of having our feet cold in bed, 
"^We raaj envelope the reservoir of heat filled with hot land 
In a clolh and put il at the loot of ihe bed, where il retain* 
ita hent for a long time. 

If il be necenaary to change Ihe linen of a child or a 
«ick person, a box of paste-board or wood wilhout a bollom 
may be placed over the atigustine and fitted with linen, 
which will be found warm when it la wanted ; if it is wished 
to keep milk or any other liquid warm, it may also be 
placed on the augusltne, which will answer the purpose of 
ft watching lamp. 

Madame Chambon has also prepared for the same pur- 
pose pans of tin which may be filled with water, in which 
objects may be healed by insertion, or which may serve for 
Tapour baths. 



FOB THE HORTH-AME 



The following report,* was printed by order of the Legis- 
lature for Ihe use of its members. The subject is a very 
important one, and we have introduced il here, in the hope 
that those who read it, may feel the necessity of having a 
building for Ihe use of our learned societies. In Europe, 
tiie governments not only build palaces for their librarie* 
and museums, but they bear all their expenses, and give ad- 
equate salaries lo numerous professors and learned men who 
have the care of them. Nothing was asked in the present 
instance but a building, thai would aObrd shelter and securi- 
ty, to extensive libraries and cabinets already existing; 
which are constantly exposed to destruction from fire, and 
which are go confined for want of room that Iheir increase is 
checked. The BUI which was introduced, with its amend- 
ments, it may safely be pronounced, was the most liberal in 
ita views of any, that has ever been brought before the Le- 
gislature, there were no selfish designs to be promoted by 
it, but on the conlrary, a noble disinterestedness, and supe- 
riority to all sordid motives of personal vanity and interest, 
in the members of these Societies. The Bill provided 
that the ofiicers of the American Academy of Arts and Sci- 
ences, the Historical Society, the Agricultural Society, (be 
Massachusetts Medical Society, the Boston Atheneum, and 
the Linuean Society should form a body politick and corpo- 



* Drawn by the Hi>n. Mr. Quiorj. 





310 MoBsaektisetts Instituiion. [Marcfa, 

rate, by the name of the Massachusetts Institution ; that 
the State should authorize a loan of 50,000 dollars at 5 
per cent, to erect a building, which building should 
0e the property of the Commonwealth — that all these libra- 
ries, and collections belonging to these Tariou^ societies, 
should be deposited in it. That the Governour, Council, 
President of the Senate and Speaker of the House for the 
time being should be perpetual visiters of the Institution—- 
that the members of the Legiblature during its sessions, 
should have free access to all parts of the establishment — 
that the Governour, Council and Senators, should each of 
them be entitled to give an order 1o any person to visit and 
consult the libraries and cabinets — >and that one day in the 
week the library and museum should be thrown open to Ihe 
publick. — This Bill was refused a third reading in the 
House, 119 to 12. But this vote is no criterion of the feel- 
ing of the Legislature w ith regard to this object. It was 
rejected in the present session npt on the ground of its own 
merits, but as a question of political expediency ; the heavy 
expenses occasioned by the war have so burthened the 
State, that in the present condition of the Finances nothing 
should be done that would increase taxation. When these 
embarrassments should be removed, all the leading individ- 
uals of all parties fully agreed in the powerful claim of 
these societies, from the services which they had already 
rendered, and would in future give to the State. The 
friends of science and literature, and^all those who feel tor 
the honour of the State, may therefore* look forward with 
confidence, to seeing this great and most desirable object 
obtained at no distant day. 

COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS. 

House of Representatives) January, 15, 1816. 

ORDERED— Th^t Messrs. Tudor, of Boston, Knapp, of Newbu- 
pyport, and Trask, of Briraiield, be a Committee, witb such as the 
Honourable Senate may join, to make inquiries into the actual state 
of the following Scientifick and Literary {Societies — the Anfferican So- 
ciety of ^rts and Sciences, the Massachusetts Historical Society, the 
Linnean Society and the Boston Atheneum, and any other Scientifidc 
Societies, that the Committee may find it advisable to include iatlMi'' 
investigation ; with leave to report. 
Sent up for concurrence. 

TIMOTHY BIGELOW, Speaker. 



JUassaehtisells Institution. 



In Senate. Januaiy 
Read uid coocurred, and tbe Honourable Messrs, Uvini 
IB are joiaed. 



tnd An.' 
JOHN PHILLIPS, President. 




The commillee, appoinfed lo make iDqiiiries into the ac> 
lal slate of the folluwiiig lilerary and acieiilifick Sooielies — 
'he American Academy of Ails and Sciences — Ihe Mas- 
ichns'^tls Hialoiical Society — ihe Linnean Society — and 
ke Boston Alheneum, and any other acienfifick societies, 
bat they mi^bl deem it advisaUle to include in their inves- 
on, have attended that service ; and, having had a full 
l^d free commiirtication with the officers of each of said So- 
ielies, in relation to their pecuniary funds, and their other 
R-operty — to the legislative patronage, herelofore extended 
a any of ihem — an<! to that, trhich might yel be wanting 
or 'he protection and advancenienl of their respective in- 
eresl^, ask leave to make the following statement, as the 

ssnil of their inquiries. 

t The American Academy of Arts and Sciences was es- 
ablished in Ihe year 1780, in ihe midst of our struggle 

r independence. The only legislative patronage it has ever 

iceivea, besides its act of incorporation, ia the permission, 
^bich il had lo occupy one of the rooms in Ihe present 
lute hoiiae, rroni the time of its building, unlil the year 
l812, at which time il was removed, for Ihe accom modal ion 
if theoiQce of the Adjulanl General. Since which lime, 
^eir library and colleclions have been deposited, at a rent 
if one hundred dollars a year, in a room neither safe, nor 
ionvenienl, and from which they are subject, at every mo- 
Dent, lo be ejected, at the will of a landlord. 

The library of Ihis inalilulion consists of more Iban twen- 
ty-fire hundred volumes, many of which are works of great 
value, and elsewhere, in ihis coiinlry, not to be obtained — 
sonnected with it, is a collection of many rare and valuable 
nineralogical specimens, of other objects of natural history, 
ind of models of new invented machines, and of Ihe arls. 
Fbe whole of which has been deposited in a building, ex- 
posed, like the common buildinirs of a city, lo Ihe ordinary 
iccidents of fire, and in a siliialion, in case of the happen- 

J of such an event, as would render any exertion for 
Hving this important property, almost hopeless. 

The funds of Ihis society are invested in tliree per cent, and 
>ixper cent, slock of tbe United States, and in a slate note of 



< 



312 Massachusetts Institution. [March, 

Massachusetts, the total amount of which stock and note con- 
stitutes a nominal principal of three thousand and ninety-seven 
dollars ; and yields an annual interest of one hundredand thir- 
ty-four dollars and eighty-five cents, leaving, after deduct- 
ing one hundred dollars for rent, the net sum of thirty-four 
dollars and eighty-five centSy to be annually applied for the 
promotion of the great and general objects of that institu- 
tion. All these funds, such as they are, have been the re- 
sult of the bequest, benefaction, or voluntary contribution 
of individuals, and have, in no part, been derived from 
legislative grant or bounty. 

The Massachusetts Historical Society was founded, in 
file year 1701, and, excepting its act of incorporation, has 
received, from that time to the present, no other legislative 
patronage, except the grant of the copy right of a map of 
the state, and which produced the society, after fulfilling 
all the obligations, which were the condition of the grants 
the net sum of three hundred dollars. 

The library of this society consists of at least three 
thousand volumes, besides newspapers and manuscripts, 
and a mineralogical cabinet. All of them articles rare, cu- 
rious and valuable. In case of loss, many of them are, ab* 
solutely, irreparable. The whole connected with the his- 
tory of our country, and containing evidence relative to the 
land titles of individuals, which experience has proved is 
no where else to be found. This precious collection is de- 
posited in the third story over the Arch in Franklin Place, 
exposed on both sides to fire, and in a situation also, which 
would preclude all hope of saving them, should such an ac- 
cident happen. 

This society, without other patronage from the legisla- 
ture, than that which is abovementioned, and limited by its 
charter to consist of only sixty individuals, one third of 
which are clergymen of extremely restricted pecuniary re- 
sources, have been able, by the voluntary contributions and 
exertions of its members and friends, not only to amass fhii 
valuable collection of books and historical documents, but 
to raise and expend nearly seven thousand dollars in pub- 
lishing and distributing thirteen volumes of historical col- 
lections — works of no common interest, and of great publick 
importance. 

The present active funds of the society, applicable to 
the purposes of the institution, consists of a cash balance 



1816.] Massachusetts Institution* 313 

in the hands of their Treasurer, amounting to the sum of 
fourteen dollars and twenty-eight-cents. 

The Boston Alheneuin, while, on the one hand, .it has 
at no time received from the legislature any patronage what- 
soever, its charter of incorporation excepted, it has on 
the other, yielded to ^le Governour arid Council, and to the 
members of both branches of the legislature a full and free 
adiuission to every right and privilege, in the use ot their 
library, which the proprietors themselves exercise. This 
library consists, at present, of ten thousand volumes, and, 
in point of value, is inferiour to none upon the continent, that 
of Harvard University only excepted. All this valuable 
collection of books the state of their funds has obliged 
them to deposit in a wooden building, in a central part of 
the town of Boston, connected and surrounded with other 
buildings of similar materials. Its exposure to loss by fire 
is, of course, imminent, and excites in the proprietors and in 
all, who know the value of the library, a proportionable 
anxiety for its safety. 

This institution was founded in the year 1807, by the 
voluntary contribution of individuals. The whole amount 
of subscription w^s forty-two thousand dollars. Of which 
thirty-two thousand dollars has been expended in the pur- 
chase, alterations and repairs of a building, in incidental 
charges, and in the purchase of books. The sum of tea 
thousand dollars remains subject to the ordinary purposes 
of the institution. The income from this balance, being 
insufficient, with the annual subscriptions of individuals, to 
meet the ordinary expenditures of the institution, the funds 
are, on this account, in a gradual state of diminution and 
decay. The greatness of the sum necessarily invested in 
a building, precludes the directors of it from making any 
important addition to their library, and thus one great ob- 
ject of their institution, the gradual accumulation of books, 
and thus extending the sphere of its usefulness, is in a great 
measure frustrated. 

As this institution has, in appearance, the aspect of a 
private concern, your comrailtee feel it incumbent upon 
them to state that it is, both in its origin and on the princi- 
ples,* on which it is conducted, almost exclusively, publick. 
The object of its establishment was to lay the foundatioii 
of a great publick library for the use and resort of all our 
citizeos. ^ It is capable of proof that of the one hundre4 
» Vol. H. No. 6. 40 



314 Massachusetts Institution. [March, 

and fifty individuals, who subscribed the great sum, which 
constituted its original funds, more than one hundred have 
never received any personal benefit from it, other than what 
results to every citizen of the state from the promotion of 
literature and science. Being merchants, occupied in pro- 
fessional pursuits and having little time to devote to objects 
of general literature, their subscriptions can be viewed in no 
other light , than that of benefactions, liberally granted on 
general principles for objects altogether of publick utility. 
All the citizens of the commonwealth are in fact admitted 
to the enjoyment of its advantages, upon terms more advan- 
tageous than the proprietors themselves, since admittance 
to annual subscription may be obtained for a sum one third 
less, than the interest of the capital paid for a share in the 
institution. 

The Linnean. Society is, at present, considered but as 
branch of the Atheneum. It is, however, one of the most 
laudable and flourishing institutions of our country. Its 
object is to collect a museum of natural history, partico- 
larly of the native animals, vegetables and minerals of this 
continent. It has existed only about a year, and the great 
progress it has made in its collections demonstrates the 
zeal, intelligence and learning of its members. The present 
value of this collection may be estimated at four thousand 
dollars, and it is constantly increasing. The further pro- 
gress of this interesting institution is, at this moment, 
checked, by the want of a suitable place of deposit and 
arrangement. 

Your committee are induced to say the less concerning 
the Agricultural Society of Massachusetts, because it has 
received a patronage from the legislature to the full extent 
of its wishes. It receives an annual sum from the govern- 
ment, which is expended, exclusively, for purposes having 
for their object the improvement and encouragement of 
agriculture; the nature and objects of which are asce^ 
tallied previously to the sanction of the expenditure, by a 
committee of the legislature. 

This society has also a library, small in point of number 
of volumes, but important to the agricultural interestti of 
our country, which for want of other place, is now deposited 
in the Atheneum, liable to all the exposure to which, tf 
has been stated, the library of that institution is subject. 
This society has also a considerable number of models of 



1816.] Massachusetts Institution* 31 d 

approved machines for the use of agriculture, oiany of 
which have obtained the premiums of the society ; but 
which, for want of room to exhibit them, are deposited in 
different places out of the sight and knowledge of the pub* 
lick, whereby a great part of the advantages contemplated 
from obtaining them is lost. It ought, perhaps, to be noticed, 
that of all the officers of these different institutions, not 
one receives any pay or emolument for his services ; nor 
have, at any time, any part of the funds or incomes been 
diverted to purposes of a private, or personal nature. On 
the contrary, in the discharge of their offices, they are ex-, 
posed to labour and constant expense. 

Having thus ascertained the state of. those societies, 
which the order of the senate and house of representatives 
indicated, your committee deemed it their duty to direct 
their attention to the mode, in which legislative aid might 
be given, if any were required, for their further encourage- 
ment and advancement. They found on inquiry of the 
officers of those institutions that at present, no direct cqn- 
tribution to their funds was expected ; but that one object 
was considered, unanimously, by those societies, as so im- 
portant, and essential as to be absolutely indispensable, 
to the progress of all, and necessary, almost to the ex- 
istence of some of them. This was a building proof 
against fire, sufficiently extensive to embrace all the present 
libraries and collections of the respective societies, and to 
leave room for that increase and expansion, which was row 
rapidly advancing. The concentration of all these libra- 
ries and monuments of science and art was essential not only 
to their safety, (since some of them, if lost it was impossi- 
ble to replace,) but highly important to the promotion of the 
general objects, to which all those societies were devoted. 
Their present dispersed and restricted state cramped the 
members in all their operations ; and by rendering resort to 
them difficult, in a great measure deprived the publick of 
the advantages of the use of those libraries and collections, 
which if properly located they could, with facility, com- 
mand. Besides, could they be brought under one roof, the 
Xi^sources of each society 'might be combined in the sup- 
port of proper persons to superintend the whole establish- 
ment, whereby not only access to them would be rendered 
more general and easy to the publiqk,, but their manage- 
ment more perfect and economical. It was agreed, unani- 



816 Massachusetts InstittUion. [Marcb^ 

mously, by all the societies, that such was the state of their 
respective funds, and private munificence had been so fre- 
quently taxed and was so much exhausted, that, if legisla- 
tive aid were denied, there was no hope of obtaining such a 
building. 

This state of the interests of these societies, has led your 
committee to turn their attention to the duty and interest of 
the commonwealth, in relation to this subject and to the 
means and principles, on which an object of suqji general 
importance and concern might be effected. 

Your conuiiittee refrain frpm making any remarks relative 
to the duty and interests of a state to patronize and encou- 
rage the exertions of literary men, particularly where these 
have for their objects the collection and preservation of 
literary works, and of monuments destined to promote and 
improve the arts, the manufactures, the agriculture, and the 
natural and political history of a country.- The principles 
relating to these topicks are so general and to such men as 
compose the state legislature so familiar, that to repeat 
them would be useless. For like reasons your committee 
do not deem themselves justified in recapitulating the ex- 
amples on the continent of Europe, with which the history 
of both ancient and modern times abounds, of the patronage 
extended by states and nations to institutions, similar in 
their nature and character. Nor will they recur to the 
fact, as obvious as it is encouraging, that the greatness and 
prosperity of states have always been proportionate to the 
degree, in which publick patronage, of the nature contem- 
plated, has been extended to such institutions. They ask 
leave, however, to state, one or two facts, in relation to 
some of our neighbouring states, which may place before 
the legislature the conduct of cotemporary governments, 
and exhibit the comparative patronage extended by Massa- 
chusetts to these piiblick objects, in a light well suited to 
excite a sentiment of honourable emulation ; and which may 
lead to an enlarged policy, worthy of her political, physical 
and statistical importance. 

More than fifteen years since, the state of Pennsylvania 
granted to Mr. Peale, the proprietor of a private museum, 
the free use of the whole of their state house and land 
adjoining, comprising an area and a mass of buildings, 
which, considering its local situation, in the centre of Vbh 
l«i^elphia caniiot be estimated at less than two hundred 



I 



lousand dollars. This building be has Trom llmt time to 
present, occupied freeofall reni orinleresl. An amount 

palrvnage more limn Ihirly limes greater, in each year, 
llie legislature of Massachuseils have ever extended 
II the literary societies al>o\erneu(ioneil, in the whole 
Course of their e^cislence. Yel these societies ha%e bero 
engaged in colleclions, exclusively puliliclc. Whereas 
those of Mr. Peale mere for his own private emoiimieal and 
directed exclusively to that objecl, and in which the pub- 
lick had no farther interest than what results from the 
general duty of patronizing enterprise and merit; and (he 
Interest, which the legislature of Pennsylvania deemed itself 
to have in preserving, in the metropolis of that stale, a col- 
lection of specimens of natural olijecls at once so useful 
ud valuable. 

The legislature of New-York, in addition to the many 
aod great endowments it has e;ranted to the universities of 
that slate, purchased in ttilO, Dr. Hosack's botanick gai- 
den, for which tl paid eighty Ikousatid ifoltars. 

To the medical society of that state it has granted at two 
different periods, a sum amounting in the whole ^o fifty 
thousand doltars, besides an Annuity of five hundred dollars. 

To the New- York Historical society it granted in ISH, 
floon after its establishment, twelve ihonsand dollars. AN 
4he above sums were direct payments out of the treasury 
ef the stale. It cannot be doubled that both those states 
JiaTB already derived and are deriving a reward equal to llie 
whole value of their liberality, in the encouragement, which, 
bj these and other instances of their munificence, has been 
given to the arts and sciences, with whose protection and 
extension the prosperity and reputation of all stales are 
essentially coriiiecled. The resort of five hundred medical 
eludenls to the city of Philadelphia, some of Ihem from the 
remotest parts of the union, must very materially conlribule 
to the prosperity of the metropolis, and to the reputation 
and grandeur of the slate. 

Your commillee cannot here refrain from observing, that 
the citizens of Massachusetts have been distinguished be- 
yond the citizens of either New-York, or Pennsylvania, 
indeed of any other state, for the number and amount of 
their contributions to literary institutions. Yet by a strange 
fatality, the patronage they have received from llie Icgisla- ' 
lure of Massachusetts is incomparably less than that, which 



I 
I 



318 Massttckusetls Institulian. [March, 

similar institulioha have received from the legislatures of 
other states. To this it may be said, aud truly, that none 
of these institutions have ever, heretofore, directly applied 
to this legislature for such patronage. And it is on the 
present occasion a fact, peculiarly grateful to your commit- 
tee, that this investigation originated wholly from the liberal 
suggestion of the legislature, without any solicitation from 
those societies. A circumstance, which cannot' fail to 
render any patronage it may see fit to bestow, doubly grati- 
fying to those societies, as well as honourable to the state. 

Your committee have therefore deemed it their duty to 
suggest to the legislature, the expediency of adopting mea-^ 
sures for concentrating as soon as possible those societies, 
their libraries and collections, in one central and convenient 
place, and to provide for them a publick building, which 
should be the property of the state, and the use of which 
should be granted to these societies upon certain distinct 
principles. 

For the purchase of the land aYid erecting a building suf- 
ficiently safe and capacious for the objects proposed, the 
sum of Fifty Thousand Dollars was deemed requisite, and 
in the opinion of all the officers of those societies would be 
adequate. 

In relation to the mode in which such a sum could be 
obtained, three courses were suggested : — The grant of 
eastern land ; — A lottery ; — And the permission to raise, on 
the credit of the commonwealth, the requisite amount at 
an interest of five per cent. 

Should the legislature be of opinion that the interests of 
the commonwealth required that the property of these 
instituiions should he taken under its protection, it seemed 
desirable that as little delay as possible should be permitted 
to occur before it was extended. For such a purpose, the 
grant of eastern land was dilatory and inefficient. The 
same objections occurred to the proposition of a lottery; 
besides the many others which naturally arise to this mode 
of raisina* funds for publick purposes. It resulted, that 
either the idea of efficient protection for these monuments 
of science and the arts must be abandoned, or a resort be 
had to the proposition for a loan. As your committee were 
satisfied that this was the only mode both practicable and 
efficient, they have deemed it their duty to present a bill 
modified upon that principle, for the consideration of the 



1816.] Massachusetts Institution. 319 

legislature ; and also embraciog principles, not only extend- 
ing protection and encouragement to the property and exer- 
tions of these societies, but securing to the state privileges 
in relation to them, highly beneficial and important. 

Your committee will not conceal, that, in common with 
other members of the legislature, they feel a repugnance at 
the idea of a debt to be created. Yet a little considera- 
tion has made it apparent to them that this debt will be 
scarcely more than nominal, and that it is justified by 
maxims of prudence as well as by calculations of publick 
profit. The debt is but nominal, inasmuch as the whole 
expenditure will be invested in lands and buildings, which 
are to be the property of the commonwealth. The'amoiint 
of the actual burden will be five and twenty hundred dollars 
a year, for so long a time as the state shall permit these 
societies to enjoy the occupation of the building. In return 
for which patronage, the libraries, the collections, the monu- 
ments of the arts abovementioned, will be rescued from 
their present state of insecurity, and comparative inutility, 
and placed in a condition not only of safety, but of increased 
usefulness. All these, are, in name, the property of these 
societies, but in fact, the whole is publick property, ex- 
pressly devoted upon the most liberal principles to publick 
use ; of which these societies are but trustees for the com- 
monwealth. 

In the present situation of these libraries and collections, 
exertion, is in a great degree deprived of its stimulus, by 
the danger to which they are exposed, as well as cramped 
for want of room suitable for their deposit. Should the 
protection suggested be granted, it cannot be questioned 
that the natural and inevitable increase of this publick 
property under such new and favourable auspices, would, 
in the course of ten years, greatly exceed the whole amount 
of the principal and interest of the expenditure contem- 
plated; without taking into consideration, the irreparable 
nature of the loss, if for want of the proposed protection 
they should be destroyed ; and without making any esti- 
mate of the honour, which would result to the common- 
wealth should they, thus, be protected. 

Under impressions of this kind, your committee ask 
leave to report the annexed bill for the consideration of the 
legislature* v 

By order of the Committee^ 

JOSIAH QUINCY, Chairman. 



320 Sketches of Scenery on Niagara River. [Marcb 



FOR THE NORTH-AMERICAN JOURNAL. 

f 

[The Falls of Niagara have been often described ; but 
the battles that have been fought in their vicinity, and the 
▼arious fortune which influenced the events of the late war, 
have given a strong additional interest to the scenery. We 
are particularly flattered in being able to communicate the 
following extracts, from the Journal of a traveller who visited 
the Lakes last summer. There are several remarks that 
strongly depict the hurry of the feelings, the dizzying emo- 
tion, and the confounding grandeur of the scene, and we 
think the reader will perceive some picturesque circum- 
stances in the account of the cataract, that have not before 
been noticed. We wish we could give the additional grat- 
ification of engravings, from some of the admirable drawings 
sketched on the spot by the writer.] ^ 

Niagara River has a great deal to offer to the lover of Na- 
ture, and a new interest has been added to its shores, since 
they became the theatre of war. The traces of desolation' 
are now visible to the most unobserving eye ; and many a 
spot is pointed out, which was lately the scene of heroick 
achievement, or of memorable death. This river connects 
two of the finest lakes in the world, Erie and Ontario. 
Near its head, where it receives the waters of Lake Erie, 
on the American side, is the town of Buffaloe ; and the 
ruins of Fort Erie are scattered on the opposite shore. 

Eighteen months ago, not a house was left standing in Buf- 
faloe. The men who sought shelter in the neighbouring 
wood, were taken prisoners or killed by the Indians, who 
lay there in ambush ; and the women and children fled 
through the snows of winter, beyond the Genessee River. 
Such of the inhabitants as survived, have returned with 
spring and with peace, to rekindle their extinguished 
hearths. Buildings, of an improved exterior, cover the 
ashes of their former dwellings, and the town has already 
assumed the busy and compact appearance, which distin- 
guished it before its destruction. These buildings are at 
present entirely unfinished within, but they afford a com- 
fortable summer residence, and each will have several apart- 
ments completed before the approach of winter. 

The point on which Fort Erie is situated, is sandy, with 
a few straggling houses and little cultivation. A small part 



/ 




of Sceneri/ on Niagnra River. 



f the front wall of the fori, with an enlrance in Ihe cenire, 
iarly entire. The north east bastion was blown iiji, and 
ita frHgmeDtB are found at the waler's edge. The oihers 
are in ruins, and the dilch is half filled ivifh water. Near 
ike fort, on it» norlh aide, is a coJiinion grave, where Colonel 
Drummond, and a large number of the slain on both tildes, 
are interred. Al a lillle distance to the eoiilh west, are 
Ihe remains of Towson'a batlerj, and behind* the fort is 
the wood, where the British encamped when they liesieged 
the fort. The American traveller can never visit this spot 
without emotion ; he will look round for some one who can 
describe to him, minutely, the unexpected explosion, and 
the brilliant ^orlie, who can point out the deep ravine and 
the difficult and till then impaHsabte wood. He will enam- 
ine the trees that are shattered, and the ground that has been 
torn up by the balU and rockeffl, on their passage from the 
Biilish camp to the fort. He will water Ihe rosea that are 
already growing on Ihe soldier's grave. In a few years, 
hoffever, Ihiit ruin will be indiscriminately mingled wilh the 
soil ; or a new fort will stand in its place. New branches 
and new foliage will cover Ihe dismantled trunk of the for- 
est tree. The storm will have levelled these sandy graves, 
with Ihe beach, on which they are Ihrown up. The recol- 
lections of misery and the impulses of revenge, will be chas- 
ed from the mind, by the blessings of peace, and the sym- 
patbies of friendly intercourse. Then will the curious and 
feeling traveller seek in vain for those vestiges of the war, 
either on the face of the country, or in the hearts of its in- 
habitants, and there will be none remaining, who have wit- 
nessed these transactions. 

Black Rock is nearly three miles below BulTaloe, on Ihe 
same side of the river. Tiierc is a road to it along the 
beach, which in warm wealher is very pleasant. A small 
part of it is Ihrough a wood, Ihe rest on the edge of Ihe wa- 
ter. A fresh breeze comes across its surface, which is blue 
and transparent. Graves are scattered along the beach, and 
the sand is so lightly Ihrown in, that il appears as if Ihe wind 
would Mow this covering from ihe sacred deposit within. 
Just above Black Rock, the Niagara commences. The 
margin of Ihe river at this place is a low ledge of black 

* The wood iR north from Towsoii's battery. Tbe wood west, i 
the part where Gnneral Porter cut a road and iBarcJied his troops to 
latk British battery No. r 
■ Vol. H. No. 6. 



I 




321^ Sketches of Scenery on Niagara Rivets [Marcfe 

sock, from which the town takes its name. A steep hilL 
rises abruptlj from the shore, on which there are two forts,. 
Fort Gibson and Fort Adams. At a little distance is the 
scite of General Porter's house. This large stone building,, 
and manj a comfortable log hut, were destroyed at the same 
time with Buffaloe. There is but little cleared land about 
this place. The eminence commands a view of Fort Erie 
and of the Lake, stretching out to a vast expanse and m. 
the distance losing its blue outline in the sky. On the 
right are seen the Niagara,^ several small islands and Grand. 
Island beyond. 

Along the upper division' of the river the banks are not 
lofty, but they present together with the islands, a varied 
and beautiful Une on the water's edge. The Canadian side 
of the river is cleared, and in some parts well cultivated.. 
The American shore is still covered with wood. Oak, 
Maple, Elm, Butternut, Walnut and Cedar trees prevail. 
Now and then a log hut and cleared field gleam amidst the 
forest ;, but the black stumps^ around which the wheat is 
waving, show that the sun has for a few years only, shed his 
unobstructed rays on the soil. The river is divided into 
two branches by Grand Island, which extends more than 
two thirds of the distance from Erie to the Falls. This 
island is low and uncleared. Beyond this is Navy Island; 
and Goat Inland, whicb divides the falls, and. many smaller 
islands. The bed of the river descends gradually, till with- 
in two miles of the falls, and forms a gentle current. Here 
the aspect of ils shores is tranquil. The faint mist wiiich 
is seen above the trees of Grand Island, and the distant roar, 
which strikes only the listening ear, show that the danger 
and commotion are far below.. But on approaching the 
Falls, the scene changes. The roar, deepens, the spra^ 
rises a lofty column of vapour in the heavens, the rapidSt 
which commence about a mile above the brink of the Falls, 
DOW shew their white heads, and the current increases its 
force so fast, as to threaten to bear the frail bark along with 
it, to the Cataract. The sublimity of this scene is fre- 
quently heightened by a thunder storm. There is a laod- 
jng and wharf a mile and an half above the Fa'ls at Schloir 
ser, and below this, navigation is impracticable. The houses 
and stores at this place were destroyed by the enemy. On 
the Canadian side, opposite to Schlosser, is Chippewa, 
which is a small settlement, with a harbour^ and some btf- 




Niagara Riitr. 

tcks, in which a few soldiera are atatjoned. In conse- 
^[uence of a bend In Ibe liver on this side, U is Ina milea 
and an half by the road from Chippewa to Ihe falls. A 
mile below, h Biid^wajer and llie ruins of some large mills, 
which were desli«_ved by ihe Americana afler ihc battle of 
Lnndy'i) Line. AiiioiiijBl these ruina Ihere is a btiniiTig 
sprirg, the waters of which appear to emit sulphuretted hy- 
arug;Bii gas. ThisgaH does not tabe 6re spontaneously, and 
continues burning a short lime only after it is kindled. 

Al last you urrive at the falls. Many circumstances tend 

to heighten their ctFecI. The path, by which Table rock is 

approached, is dark, winding, and precipilous. That which 

^^txds l» the easi fall la through a cleared wood, along Ihe 

^^Hge of the rapids, of which there are frequent glimpses. 

HDn this aide are seen a number of small Islands along the 

^^rink of the FhIIs ; all resembling vessels in their form ; 

some of Ihem have (he outline and nearly Ihe size of a large 

fifaip. The rapidity of the water comuninicates to them the 

appearance of motion. You fancy Ihis green fleet lo be 

■ailing down the stream, and expect every moment, lo see 

il plunge along with the torrent, to Ihe g«lf below. The 

fall is divided into two unequal portions by Goat Island, Ihe 

^^ice of which is a bare perpendicular rock, of the heighth 

^Ksd character of the precipice over which the river rolls. 

^K is narrow, (330 yards wide,) but extends one tbtrd of a mile 

Hm the river, covered with lofty trees, whose lops catch the 

^Toes of sunseJ, long afler Ihe litlte Islands in froul are lost io 

its shadows. 

The old cedar tree on this side, from which there is bu 
fine a view of the falls, is a sufficiently dangerous 3tation> 

R excite powerful emotion. At a point, advancing a Hllle 
ly over Ihe River, 10 or 15 feet below Ihe lop of the 
nk, Ihe trunk of Ihis tree projects about 30 feel in ahor- 
ODtal direction. A birch tree runs out a little ahove, par- 
allel with il, and serves for a railing. The brandies be- 
^nd the centre, form a secure seat, but on advancing to- 
da il, the roots shake and appear ready to relinquish 
r ancient hold on the soil. From this ramantick seal, 
ispendetl in the misi, 150 feel above Ihe bed of the river, 
lere is a profile view of the '■asl fall, a front one of the 
torse shoe, wilh Goal Island, Table Rock and Ihe foam be- 



walh. There i: 



other than a profile view of the east 



n this side. The ladder which was formerly hei-e, wa» 



324 Sketches of Scenery on Niagara River. [March, 

Ihrown down during the war, and now lies at the foot of the 
precipice. The descent, however, is practicable without 
it. The path winds down the bank of the River, on an ab- 
rupt and ahnost perpendicular rock, of so unequal a face, as 
to afford a sntHcient hold for the hands and feet, while the 
roots and branches which hanu over most of the way, give 
an additional security. To this steep Cliff succeeds a bed 
of loose stones, and still lower are the slippery rocks, which 
rise immediately from the water's edge. 

The ladder on the Canadian side, is entire, and reaches 
about half the distance, from the top of the bank to the wa- 
ter. The remainder of the way is over loose stones, which 
afford a very uncertain footing, where it is difficult to stand, 
and might be fatal to fall. The upper strata of the rock 
project far beyond the foot of the precipice forming an im- 
mense arch. Trees, shrubs, and vines hang over the top, 
and give a beautiful, though, at the distance at which they 
are viewed, a narrow fringe, to its brow. Little springs 
which rise in the ground above are continually dropping 
from this impending arch, far beyond the adventurer, who 
creeps cautiously over the loose stones at the foot of the 
rock. Other streams issue from fissures in the rock, and 
have deposited their layers of sulphur on the surface over 
which they run. If any one could reflect, amidst a scene 
so completely confounding, he would perceive that the loose 
stones like those over which he is passing must frequently 
descend, from the projection above, and that the smallest of 
these, from so great a height would crush the head on which 
it fell. I learned after I came up, that half an hour before, 
a quantity of stones had fallen a few feet only from the spot 
where I sat to take a sketch of the Falls. At that time I 
was alone. The fishermen who had been busy on the 
Rocks and even at the mouth of the Cavern, when we de- 
scended, were now returned, with their baskets filled. My 
friends, having engraved the scene on their memory, were 
not interested in obtaining a less perfect, though more com- 
municable impression of it. When I ibund myself in this 
situation, the roar deepened,^ the rock shook over my head, 

* Great God of Nature ! whose blest sun and showers. 
Call into action these tremendous powers. 
Where shall my tongue (it force of language find, 
To speak the dread sensations of the mind ; 
When o'er the impending brink, in bounding sweep, 
The eye pur^^u^d this delude to the deep. 




it 

■farriv. 



I Sketches of Scenery on iK'iagara River. 

irlli Irenibleil, wllh the sound and motion of an earth- 
|iiake ; the elevation of tbe fall increased ; it seemed tnni- 
Dling fiom the heavens : The foam io»e in more fanlaatick 
shapes, and the whole asaumed to in; imagination an over- 
nhelming aspect. It was some time before I 
mand cay pencil. I fell a Bensalion of awe which I could 
not long endure, and I haslened to return to a slale of things 
more familiar, oiore on a level with mjself. 1 rejoiced on 
arriving at the lop, to find the rays of the sun once more fall- 
ing mi tne ; for though it was onlj a little paal mid-day, the 
arched precipice cast a cold and awful shadow beneath. 

The difficulty of the descent on either ^ide, is in perfect 
nngruily with the acene. Indeed it should uot be by a 
Dooth and secure path, that the enlhusiaslick traveller 
iirrives at the Falls of Ni»gara. His soul must be luned by 
^_ uiger, obstruction, and novelty of situation, before it can be 
capable of the pitch lo which it ought to be raised by this 
spectacle. The deep cavern, between the sheet of water 
and the rock, into which he penetrates, through a storm that 
is continually generating and bursting, from within, confound- 
ing every sense, and even that of feeling, with darkness and 
noise and motion. The torrent pouring from a height, which 
the eye cannot reach, filling the air wilh this mighty tumult 
of roar and foam and wind ! — in this situation should his «ye 
turn on himself, (allhon^^h that is hardly possible) what an 
insect does he appear in the midjl of this wonderful scene. 
A high hill rises on the Canadian shore, at a short dis- 
tance from the River. In order to reach Table Rock, il is 
necessary to descend this hill, which is very sleeji, ami pass 
over a marsh, on which poles are laid to designate the 
course. Often winding over Btones and marshy ground 
(hrough brushwood amidst lofty trees, the p.ilh suddenly 

. emerges to the day, and the whole scene bursts on the sight. 

^^jfere the view is complete, althoug-h loo vast to be taken 

^^C,, Sw its witite torrents andulatiii" pour 
^^^ From heaven to eartli. wltli deat^ning, crasliiug roar ; 
^^^E- Vasird in Ilie wild and lorn abys!> tielow. 
^^HT 'Midst dazzling foam and whirling storms of snow. 
^^R " While the whole monstrous masn, and country round, 
^H' Sbook. as with hormiir. at tlte n'erwhelming soimd." 
^H " This," sajs Wilson, the author of the Foresters and the American 
*^ Omitliology, *■ is literally true. In tbe house where we lodged, which 
i« more than hall' a mile from the falk, the viliratioii^ of a Ibrk. sluek 
In the board, partition wei'e plainJj observable across Ihc room.'* 
Port Folio, vol. 3. p. 186. 



^26 Sketches of Scenery on Niagara River. [March, 

hi at once. Before you, are the Horse shoe^ Ooat Island, 
and the east fall ; on the right the Canadian shore, as far as 
Chippevra, cultivated and fertile, interspersed with honsesi 
gardens and rich foliage. Opposite, the American shore, 
crowned with loftj forest trees, and in the distance below, 
the river gliding away in so unruffled a course, that one can 
hardly believe it has just issued from this abyss of commo- 
tion. Here the east fall, which appears so immense on the 
other side, shrinks in comparison with the horse shoe, and 
seems but an accompaniment to this principal branch of the 
River. The height of the fall on the American side, is be- 
tween 160 and 170'feet, and its width about a quarter of t 
mile. The British is 150 feet high, and its width not quite 
half a mile. Table Rock is a single stratum of lame stone, 
about a foot thick ; projecting several yards beyond the 

rerpendicular precipice, and hanging over the gulf below, 
t inclines a tittle from a horizontal level. Here you may 
sit on the edge, with your feet over the ch^sm, and dip your 
hand in the torrent as it rushes over the brink. You fan- 
cy that the rock losing its slight hold, is sliding with you, 
down the precipice. You believe that you could sail 
on those clouds of vapour which are rolling around, and are 
almost tempted to make the experiment. 

The eagle is often seen here, flying in the mist, while his 
nest, secure in the unapproachable clefts of Goat Island, 
is rocked by the torrent, which shakes by a slight but con- 
tinual earthquake, the adjacent shores. 

The prismatick colours are reflected from the spray, in 
diflerent positions, varying as the sun advances in his course. 
At morning and evening, a high arch spans the whole 
scene. Towards noon, the rainbow floats on the surface 
below, and sometimes the foam refracting to the eye onlj 
the red rays, appears like a bed of roses on a field of snoir* 

It was sunset when we first visited Table Rock. We 
lingered there, till not a purple tint remained on the column 
of mist, which rose high on the still air. There is such a 

«ood of light reflected from this mass of white foam, that 
le falls are distinct, long after every other object is ob- 
scured. On returning, our path through the wood and 
marsh was hardly discernible ; but when we reached tht 
top of the hill, a warm flush still coloured the west, and the 
evening star shed on us its brightest beam. This scene of 
tranquil beaut v fonued a tine contrast with the tremendoni 



' Sktiches of ScetifTif on Niagara River. 

me we had jiial quilted; a contiael peculiarly graleful 1» 
%r lired mliids, which had expunded lo Iheir ulmosl liiiiits 
J percepNoii and euiolioo. Nearly a iiiile back ol Ihc 
pume siioi: tail.isi Liiitdy'sLaneor heights, where ihe bat- 
, couiuioiily called lbs baiile ol' Bridgewaler, was fought- 
s an exieiiaive elevated plain with some HmaileiiiirieuceB. 
General Brown having been disappointed in the co-opera- 
tion ot the fleet nhicli he had expected, changed his plaa 
^ST operutiuiis and fell back t'l^om (iiieeiislown loChippewa- 
^^ti Ihe 'J5th July, 1814, the Biilish collecting their torces, 
^^hrched up Ihe river and were met near Lundye' Lane, by 
^^Flletachinenl under General Scott — an engagemenl inime- 
^^Satdy coin.nenced. Ad taoon aa inlelligence of this reach- 
ed ibe camp, Generala Porter and Hipley pressed forvrard lo 
bis support, but General Scoir gallantly sustained Ihe con- 
flict an hour before iheii' arrival. Tlie whole army was 
■ooa engaged ; still the Briiish force, commanded by Ge- 
nerata Riall and Uruninmiul, was auperionr. The battle 
began about sunset, aud lasted till midnight, and ie consi- 
dered Ihe most bloody which wus fought during Ihe war. 
Generals Brown and Scott were severely wounded, but dii^ 
not quit the lield. 
^^^ The eager coinbalanla were unmindful of ibe departure «E 
^Hlay- The hair orbed iuoon was high in the heavens at its 
^^nose, and shed a pais and doubtful light on the scene. 
^^^er rays were brightly reflected, from the polished arms 
- of Ihe front ranks of the British, while broad shadows con- 
cealed the mass behind. Reinforcementa arrived to the 
British, but the Americans could not ascertain Ihcii- num- 
bers. They apposed and cut down fresh troops, which 
advanced on iheni, but saw not and considered not Ihe force^ 
hi reserve. Tlie enemy's artillery possessed a height of 
great importance ; colonel Miller was ordered to dii^lodge 
Ibeni. The regiment which was to support him fell back- 
Still colonel Miller advanced through Ihe indistinc-tnesa of 
thia hght and shade. Bursts ol lire flashed across Ibe 
icene, from Ihe moulbs of those engines of desiruction, and 
fais mind collected at a glance rapid and luminoua, aa Ihe 
lightening of Ihe artillery, all Ihe information requisite for 
decision and execution. — The lieigbt and Ihe cannon were no 
^t longer in the possession of the Briiish. 

^^ During this night of horrour and destruction, the Ihundeir 
H*.**! Ihe cannon was lost in Ibe roar of Ihe torrent, and ibe 



S28 Sketches of Scenery on Niagara River. [Marcb^ 

earth was shaken, by a mightier force than the discharge of 
artillery or the trampling of the war horse ; and when the 
battle raged no more, and the moon on the verge of the sky 
ceased to thi-ow her light on the dismal spectacle, the few 
who escaped unhurt, listened in vain for the well known 
voice, which should enable them to distinguish their wound- 
ed companions, amongst the heaps of slain. That awful still- 
ness, broken only by the low moaning of the wounded and 
dying, which succeeds the tumult of battle, had here no 
place. Every sound was confounded in the noise of the 
torrent, which has forages passed over the precipice. 

This field of the battle of Niagara, is certainly a spot of 
as much interest as any our country affords. Its proximi" 
iy to the Falls of Niagara, the time at which it was fought, 
the numerous instances of individual heroism, the general 
valour of our troops, the superiour and well disciplined force 
which they encountered and discomfited, and the immense 
proportion of dead and wounded which were found on the 
field, offer a combination rarely to be met with. 

Two miles and a half below the Falls on the east side, 
there is a beautiful view of them. Near this spot is a spring 
strongly impregnated with sulphur ; a small stream flows 
from it through a wood, tinging in its windings, every thing 
it approaches. A mile below this is* a whirlpool. A point 
projects info the river, and forms a basin into which the 
water is drawn, producing a counter current. The river 
thus thrown on a rocky craggy bottom, whirls round, draws 
down every thing within its influence, and after some time, 
dashes it up again shivered to atoms. The river is nar- 
rower at this point, below the whirlpool, than in any part of 
its course, being less than one fourth of a mile across. 

The name of the settlement on the United States' side of 
the Falls, is Manchester ; that of the town on the Canadian 
side, Stamford. Lewistown, seven miles below Manches- 
ter, was burnt during; the war, which was the case with most 
of the buildings at Manchester and on the road between. 

The banks of the river retain their rocky, precipitous 
character, as far as Queenstown heights. Here they sud- 
denly descend to a level margin, softening away in the dis- 
tance, till they meet Lake Ontario. The view from this 
summit is very fine. On the top is a fort, and in the valley 
below, a village. 



1816.] Monument to Washington. >329 

Navigation, which was interrupted by the falls, recom^ 
mences here. The river, which has been so long imprison- 
ed by precipices, escaped from the loftj walls, spreads out 
to its former breadth, and widens in its progress to the Lake. 

Fort George on the British, and Fort Niagara on the 
American side, are situate six miles below Queenstown, at 
the mouth of the river. There is no settlement at Fort Ni- 
agara. Near Fort George are the ruins of Newark. This 
town, once so flourishing, ornamented with fine houses, and 
publick buildings, gardens and orchards, is now a scene of 
desolation the most complete which the border presents. 
It is melancholy to think of the unnecessary destruction 
of this thriving town. There was hardly a man in the place. 
Women and children were its only inhabitants, and their 
houses were plundered and burnt in the month of Deceni- 
ber- Not a Ifence or a fruit tree are left standing, and the 
ground is overgrown with weeds. Mud hovels, log huts 
and unfinished buildings afford a temporary residence to 
the inhabitants, amidst the ruins of their former happy 
homes. 

July, 1815. 



FOR THE N.ORTH-AMfiRICAV JOtTRlTAL. 

The subject of a monument to Washington, was intro- 
duced in the Senate during the late session of the Legisla- 
ture. The resolves which passed that body, authorized the 
governour to appoint three commissioners to carry the 
object into effect, and appropriated five thousand dollars 
jfbr the purpose. It came down to the House very late in 
the session, and was referred to the next meeting of the 
Legislature. As the war is now over, publick attention may 
be again excited on this point, and the gratitude of the state 
after so long talking about it, may at length shew its sincerity 
in the execution of this honourable design. We shall 
oflTer some little development of some of the hints contained 
in this report. 

This act of state policy, as well as justice and gratitude, 
having been deferred so long, it should not now be under- 
taken rashly and hastily. The plan should be fully con- 
sidered, and if it be possible, a monument ih honour of 
Washington, should also do honour to the good taste and 

Vol. n. No. 6. 42 



;»0 Monument to Washif^ion. [Marcb^ 

judgment of those who erect it. We have no objects ta 
serve as moc^els or warnings ;. and therefore those who have 
never seen any piece of monumental architecture or sculp- 
ture, should not be too arbitrary in their decisions about the 
design of objects, of whose comparative effect, they can 
form only an imperfect idea from paintings or descriptions. 
When it is said, that the monument should do honour to 
the state and town, if possible^ the phrase will not be 
thought extravagant, when it is considered, how few of the 
vast number of monuments in Europe can stand the test of 
criticism, and how few architectural productions even ap- 
proach towards perfection. An eminent personage has 
said, that *' the Genius of Architecture had almost cast his 
malediction on the country ;" and the Genius of Sculpture 
has not been hitherto more propitiou% 

The report of the committee observes, that the plan of 
a monument may be divided info two parts, a slatue or aa 
architectural monument. It is most desirable that both 
these should be executed; that the state in pursuance oft 
former vote should erect the statue; and that the private 
fund now amounting to about nine thousand dollars, should be 
further increased, so as to elevate some grand architectural 
design. Our own artists should be offered the preference. 
A sufficient time should be allowed for them to consider 
the subject maturely, and send in their plans, and some 
premiums should be given to excite their attention to the 
object, and reward two or three of the most meritorious de- 
signs among the unsuccessful ones. The artist whose 
plan should be accepted, would receive his reward, in being, 
employed to execute the work. 

The monuments which have been erected within a few 
years in Westminster Abbey, St* Paul's, and Guildhall, by 
a vote of Parliament, or at the expense of the city of Lon- 
don, have cost from three to ten thousand pounds sterling. 
Some of these monuments consist only of a single figure, 
with an inscription and bassi re/tem, others contain besides 
the statue of the individual to whom it is erected, allegorical 
figures, and baiisi relievi, so that three or four statues of 
the size of life are contained in a single monument, which 
may cover two hundred square feet and upwards. The 
marble used in England is brought from Italy, indeed the 
finest marble used by modern sculptors of every country, is 
the marble of Carrara. There are marble quarries worked ' 



1816.] Mommient ^o Washington* 331 

in many parts of the United States, but none has yet been 
found sufficiently pure and fine, for the higher purposes of 
-sculpture.* The rost of a statue would mainly depend on 
the pay of the artist. Canova received 6000 dollars from 
Joseph Buonaparte for his beautiful little statue of Hebe ; 
the Banker Tolonia at Rome pa»d hirn 10,000 crowns for 
the statue of Hercules, independent of the cost of the mar- 
ble and accompaniments. The Pope paid nearly the same 
«um for the statue of Perseus, to replace the Belvidere 
Apollo while that statue was at Paris. French and £nglish 
artists of inferiour merit to this celebrated Italian, receive as 
Jbigh, or perhaps higher prices for their productions. 

In this country the cost of execution would be less. 
Genius in Europe is nobly rewarded, while ordinary labour ■ 
pines on the minimum of subsistence. In this country it is 
the reverse ; truth and justice Ke between. f We| have 
artists of our own, who would be capable of executing this 
statue. Three may be named, Allston, Morse, and Wil- 
lard, who could furnish models, though they have never 
worked in marble ; but this is a mechanical operation, and 
there are several marble cutters, who could assist in execut- 
ing the work. Perhaps also, Mr. West, the venerable Pre- 
sident of the English Academy, the first of American, as 
well as of European artists, might undertake this object, in 
which his love of his country, and his veneration of Wash- 
ington would make him engage with enthusiasm. Mr. West 
does not work in marble, but he models in a species of 
composition, the use of which is increasing in England. 

* Porphyry, Jasper, Serpentine, Breccias, and many other stones, 
classed by the Ttaliaas under the general term oi' pietri duri, which 
hold an intermediate rank between the precious stotiies and marbles, 
are found in great variety and beauty in the United States. Many 
quarries of marble also are worked in different places ; but hitherto 
they have been of rather coarse grain, well suited to the purposes of 
architecture, but not fine enough for the wants of sculpture. Since these 
pages were written, we have seen two specimens of white marble from a 
•quarry recently discovered in Middlebury, Vermont, which are of the 
purest white, aud the most delicate and homogeneous substance. It is 
said that blocks of it eight feet square can be easily obtained ; if this be 
correct, the country possesses a marble as beautiful as that of Carrara, 
and the proprietors will find it to bear a high price in Europe. 

f The assistant doorkeepers of the legislature, are paid three dollars 
a day ; the govemour arid commander in cki^y receives ratlier more 
than double this sum. ^ ^ 



Ii32 Monument to Washinglon. [Marcb, 

After the figures are prepared, they are baked in ovens^ 
and are then, indestructible, by either fire or water. Mr. 
West executed in this way two years since, an extensive 
allegorical monument in alto relievOj to the memory of Lord 
Nelson, which was placed in Greenwich Hospital. A single 
statue on a plain pedestal could, without doubt, be erected 
for the sum appropriated by the resolve of the Senate. A 
further advantage attending a statue of this kind as men- 
tioned in the report, would be derived in taking casts 
from it in Plaster, and giving one to each county in the 
state. 

With regard to an equestrian statue, which is with many 
a favourite object, it is perhaps, at present almost imprac- 
ticable to erect one. It is one of the highest and most 
difficult efforts of art, and would probably cost fifty thou- 
sand dollars. If, however, it should be resolved to have a 
statue of this kind, there are but few situations in Boston 
where it can be advantageously placed ; one of these would 
be in front of the StatcTHouse, another in the Common, at 
a point nearly equidistant from the Mall, Park»8treet, and 
Beacon-street. Some persons have thought that the best 
situation would be the scite of the old State-House. But 
this opinion is taken up without sufficient reflection. The 
first great objection is, that you must commence your opera- 
tion by the destruction of a building worth fifty thousand 
dollars. The same statue would therefore cost 50,000 dol- 
lars more there, than in any other place; there should be 
some great advantage to compensate for this ; but if no 
such sacrifice were necessary, it would still be one of the 
worst spots that could be selected. 4n equestrian statue 
should be either placed in some extensive square, where 
the space that surrounds it, will give a degree of dignity 
suited to these pompous efforts of art, or should stand in 
front of some splendid palace or publick building. In the 
location now spoken of, it would be encompassed with 
ordinary brick buildings, and shops, would always be 8ur« 
rounded with carts, and could hardly ever be observed with 
advantage. The constant passage of people, and vehicles 
of all kinds in the most crowded and busy part of the 
town, would always distract the attention, and prevent 
the eye from considering it attentively. To view a statue 
to advantage, it must be seen without the intervention (^ 
passing objects, to disturb the tranquillity of the spec^ 



1 8 ] 6.] Monument io Washington* 333 

tator. This is proved by Ihe equestrian statue of Charles 
at Charing Cross. It is by far the best statue among half a 
dozen of the kind in London, jet few persons are ever able 
to observe it attentively ; it is surrounded by carts and in- 
tercepted by the eternal bustle of the streets, though the 
avenue in front, Whitehall, is perhaps the most magnificent 
street in London. Indeed the different effect of statues in 
the open air in Rome, or even Paris, an/il London, is verj 
great ; in the latter city they certainly produce but little 
pleasure. Whether this be owing to the chill and murky 
atmosphere, in which they are for so many months involved, 
may be uncertain ; but from the sorry, despicable figure of 
QrUeen Anne in front of St. Pauls, and (he noble, bronze, 

gsdestrian statue of the late Duke of Bedford in Russel 
quare ; with the various equestrian statues in different 
squares, six or seven in number, the lover of the Arts, and 
still less the common observer, derive but little satisfaction. 
Perhaps also by a very natural association, we should pity 
the poor statues exposed to the frosts and snows of our win* 
ters, but under our brilliant skies at other seasons of the 
year, they might be seen with as much delighti as in .the fine 
climate of Oreece.^ 

If an architectural monument be resolved on, the princi- 
pal forms are the pyramid, the obelisk, the triumphal arch 
and the column. The two former were peculiar to the 
E^^yptians, and may be considered beyond the power of any 
modern nation. Of the pyramids, with the exception of the 
^tomb of Caius Cestius near the walls of Rome, and which is 
wholly insignificant when compared with the Egyptian mas- 
ses, there are no other monuments of this kind, but those imr* 
perishable ones, on the banks of the Nile. And here, if the 
reflection will be excused, is it not worthy of admiration ; 
that the most ancient, the most durable monument of human 
labour, on the surface of the globe, is a tomb ! The residen- 
ces of royal magnificence, the fortresses of national safety, 
the sacred temples of the Deity, " the cloud-rapt towers and 
gorgeous palaces," have vanished '' like the baseless fabrick 
of a vii^ion ;" while these gigantick structures which must en- 
dure, **• till the great globe itself shall be dissolved," were 

* \Te have seen a very bandsome plan by Mr. Willard, for a new 
eptrance in front of the State House, to be built of granite with iron 
railings, and the centre to be surn^ounted with the proposed equestriaa 
Statue of Washington^ 



3M Monument to Washington^ [Martb, 

only raised through the toil of ages^ and the labours of mil- 
lions, to conceal the poor dust of human vanity ! 

The only arguments in favour of pyramidal monuments, . 
are their austere simplicity and extreme durability. The 
latter however, was owing to the almost incredible labour 
which was bestowed in their construction, and negatively 
to the climate. With the present prices of labour and sub- 
sistence, no nation in modern times, could have prepared 
the endless blocks of granite with the nice exactness of their 
fitting, that compose the pyramids of Egypt. And perhaps 
if they had stood in a country exposed to frost, the effects 
of ice, little by little in the lapse of ages, would have opened 
and ruined their surface. If a monument of this kind should 
be thought of on this occasion, it should be recollected, that, 
it can only be rendered respectable by its size. An advaih 
tageous situation should be selected for it* The hills at 
South Boston will not do, because they are two, and steep 
in ascent. The hill must be insulated as much as possible 
from others, and not difficult of access. The hill in Dor- 
chester north of the Meeting House, the hill at Chelsea near 
the Ferry, or the eminence on which Fort Strong stands 
are the only suitable ones near the town, and to all of them 
the stone may be brought very near by water. The effect of 
a small pyramid may be seen (and so far as effect is concern- 
ed, deplored,) at any time, on an Island in the lower harboar. 

The Obelisk is another of the inventions of the Egyptians, 
and which has never been attempted by any other people. 
There are no other quarries known in the world, besides^ 
those of Upper Egypt, which can produce such enormous 
blocks of granite. Five or six of these Obelisks are stand- 
ing in Rome, one of them is one hundred and sixty feet high, 
of a single piece, and covered with Hieroglyphicks. The 
Egyptians cut these prodigious masses frond their quarries, 
transported them to their cities, and elevated them. The 
Romans took them away, brought them down the Nile on 
rafts, coasted along the shores of the Mediterranean, ascend- 
ed the Tiber, and erected them in Rome. — They were 
thrown down in the sacking of that city by the Barbarians ; 
and it was considered a wonderful effort in the Popes, mere- 
ly to raise them up again. An object so slender as an obe- 
lisk would be of no great duration if formed of different pie- 
ces, indeed its magnificence mainly consists in its being of 



1810.} Monument to Washington^ 235' 

one piece. This species of monument then, is completely 
out of the question.^^ 

There remain the Triumphal Arch and the Column. Both 
these kimi of inonuments have been adopted by difierent 
nations. There are in Rome three or four Triumphal Arch- 
es^ which, though they are in ruins, are still sulhciently en* 
tire> to give a very perfect idea of their original condition.. 
One of these is the Arch of Titus, erected tor his conquest 
of Jerusalem, and which it is said the Jews to this day ne- 
Ter go through, but always pass a passage by its side. The 
symbols oCthe Jewish religion, the golden candlesticks, the 
ark of the Covenant, &c. are still to be seen in reliefs upoa 
it. Louis XiVth constructed two in Paris, and Napoleon 
undertook two, one only of which is completed. The gatea 
of fortified towns have been sometimes adaoted to this pur- 
pose, but, as the people of any unfortified town would, if they 
understood their own interests, sooner set fire to their houses 
and abandon it, than sufier it to be . surrounded with wallfr 
and exposed to sieges, this form cannot be adopted here*. 
It may be made use of as a monument only^ but, to appear 
advantageously, it should be accompanied with regular and 
extensive edifices. Such Arches should always be seen at 
a distance from a long avenue, and are generally placed at 
the entrance of Cities. The upper part of Charlestown,, 
Cambridge Port, and Washington street, are the principal 
entrances to the Capital^ and otfer the most advantageous 
scites. Of the three, Washington street presents the most 
advantages. If it were placed on the rising part of the street 
not far from the line of Roxbury, it would then have a wide 
avenue into the town of more than half a mile, and on the 
other side, Roxbury street may be hereafter straightened, so» 
as to run to the entrance of the Dedham Turnpike, this 

* There are now lyiog near Alexandria two obelisks, Tulgarlj called' 
tile needles of Cleopatra. They were buried in the sand. When the. 
Eoglisharmy were ID Egypt, it was suggested that they should get up 
one of these obelisks, to be transported to England and placed in some 
square on the banks of the Thames, a durable monument of their suc- 
cess. This noble idea was entered into cheerfully, the soldiers voU 
unteered their services, and after great labour it was raised and laid 
horizontally on rollers to be embarked in an old 64 that had been got 
ready for the purpose. A new and valuable naval commander inter- 
vened, (if we remember right, the polished Lord K.)and swore ** that 
j^is Majesty's ships were not meant to carry stones" — and thus this clas* 
sick plan of triumph, which could have injured no one,^ was rendered 
abprtire. 



338 Jdomment to H^cuhington^ [Marcfay 

would give nearly half a mile of approach in a straight line, 
on the other side. These Triumphal Arches are osuallj 
composed of three arches, one wide in the centre for car- 
riages, and two smaller side ones for foot passengers. But 
the effect of an object of this kind is nearly destroyed, if it 
be not surrounded with regular and imposing buildings. 
Placed amid mean and straggling houses, it would be degrad- 
ed. Should such an Arch be placed on Washington street, 
and two hospitals or a hospital and an arsenal be constructed 
on opposite sides near it, there would be a great effect of 
graudeur, arising from extensive symmetry produced from it. 

Monumental columns have been erected by both ancient 
and modern nations. There are two in Rome, the Trajan 
and Antonine Columns, the latter is plain ; the former mag- 
nificently decorated through the whole length of its shaft, 
with bassi relievi winding in a spiral line. It is composed 
of white marble. Its effect is considerably impaired by the 
rise of the ground in that part of the City, its babe was com- 
pletely buried. It has been dug round so as to clear it to 
the ancient pavement, which is eighteen feet below the mod- 
ern pavement ; so much is taken from its height, that its ef- 
fect is considerably impaired ; the area in which it stands is 
also too small, the same may be said of the square of the An- 
tonine pillar. The only column in Paris, was one erected 
by Napoleon in the Place Yendome, exactly after the model 
of the Trajan column. It was covered with the history of 
his victories executed in spiral bronze plates of bassi ff- 
lievi^ his statue was placed on the top. In London there is 
a Column, " pointing to the skies," of white free stone, erect- 
ed in commemoration of the great fire, and which is the 
largest monument of the kind in the world. It is placed on 
the side of a narrow street perpetually thronged, surround- 
ed with dingy brick houses, and in so small an area that its 
effect is almost destroyed. It is two hundred and two feet 
in height. 

In placing a column, two situations present themselves, 
the one designated by the Committee, and Fort Hill. The 
latter, however, is surrounded with houses which would hide 
the lower part of it, the space is too small for an object of 
great magnitude, and the labour of carrying the materials 
to the top of the hill, would be a serious obstacle. Before 
recurring to the other location, a few remarks will point out 
another spot of great beauty, which is now, however, lost 




99Kq 



Monument to Washinifloii. 



i 



— tie 

mi 



■r anj purpose of Ibis kind. In Rome, the finest eOeuts 
ire produced by the direction of some of Ihe stieela, and 
tbe judicious placing of objects ; thus at Ihe gate del Popo- 
lo, which is the entrance from Florence, there is a triangu- 
lar place, and in tbe centre an obelisic ; rrom this sqnare 
ta proceed diverging into Ihe city; the conse- 
thal from the other extremity of these streets, 
idely distant from each other, this obelisk and gale are 
'ieen la great advantage, and the objects appear mul- 
tiplied. On the Monte Cavallo, the principal residence of 
the Popes, two superb Blreets cross each olher at right an- 
gles, and in looking down each of them, there is some grand 
' "yect to terminate the view, and from Ihe other end of these 
■eetB (hey have for a point of sight, the fine horses which 
Ive Ihe name lo this hill. Keeping out of mind the gran- 
deur of (he associations on that spol, and Ihe magnificence 
of the edifices; there is a spot in Boston which in natural 
advantage far exceeds it, and although greatly mufitaled, 
and degraded by irregularities, it still presents a scile of 
singtilar and almost unequalled beauty. Let the observer 
place himself in the centre, where Belknap and Olive sireets 
cross each other- Looking east, the avenue is perhaps ir- 
retrievably spoilt, but if the north wall of the Slate House 
yard was made straight, and the fence in the street beyond 
it taken away, (he eye after passing over the centre of Ihe 
town, would see the harbour and its islands. Looking north, 
down Belknap sireet, the eye passes over part of West 
Boston, Charles River ; and the hills of Charlestown, appear- 
ing lo great adrantage, and rests on the rocky hills of Mai- 
den beyond. Looking wa^y, the placid bay of Charles 
River, appears at the foot of Mount Vernon like a calm 
lake, fringed with Ihe graceful outline of ihe hills of Brook- 
line and Brighton. Looking south, the sight passes over 
the common, ihc southerly part of the town, Ihe bay be- 
yond, the country houses and orchards of Roxbury and 
Dorchester, and reposes on ibe fine masses of the Blue 
Hills. If a large area had been left here originally, ihis 
spot would have possessed matchless advantages for the 
erection of any raonuiueut of art. 

The spot pointed out in the report, is perhaps on the 
whole, the best that can be selected. The time may per- 
haps come, when the comfort and happiness of the whole 
town will not be sacrificpd lo a fow-coivkeepers, atid when 
Vol. II. No- e. AA 




338 Momment to Washington. [Marefar 

this beautiful enclosure will be converted, which might be 
done for a very trifling expense, into a Park worthy ©f the 
town. Nature has done every thing for it ; a few plantations 
of trees, a few gravel walks, the clearing out the pond, and 
filling it with pure water from the aqueduct or the springs od 
Mount Vernon, wHI give us publick grounds and wsdks suck 
as no other town, in the United States at least, can boast of. 
The eminence mentioned, would be an excellent scite for 
the column, the stone might be landed very near it, for it 
should be built of the fine Chelmsford granite. The ex- 
tensive and ornamented ar^a that would be always open, 
terminated to the west by the bay and hills beyond, give 
decisive advantage to the situation, while even its very base 
would always be visible from more than one third of a cir- 
cle, whose diameter is twelve or fifteen miles. 

If a column should be decided on, without any imprac- 
ticable efibrt, we might erect the largest and finest in the 
world ; and it is something to> say, that in any particular ob- 
ject we possess the finest of its kind. In equestrian statues, 
there are perhaps a hundred to rival us, and we could hard- 
ly hope to reach the average of excellence in this way. An 
equestrian statue, certainly does not produce on eomnon ob- 
servers an effect in proportion to its cost. — These observa- 
tions, hastily written,^ have been extended much beyond 
the original intention of the writer ; but the subject is inter- 
es ing, and the publick attention towards it seems at length 
to be strongly excited. 



REPORT. 

The cemmltlee of both Houses, who had under con- 
sideration the subject of erecting a Statue to the memory 
of General George Washington, ask leave to REPORT — 

That they have bestowed all that attention to the object 
of their appointment, which their limited time and means 
would afford ; and although it appears to your committee, 
that an offering of gratitude of the present age to futurity, 
in erecting a Statue or Architectural Monument to comme- 
morate the great Washington, would have been more pecu- 
liarly the province of the national government, yet^ for rea- 
sons which are not well understood, or are here unnecessary 
to repeat, no effectual measures have hitherto been taken 
by them,, to effect this, so desirable an objects 



ii81&j Montiment io Washtngtim* 039 

In one or two of the states, it is believed, this subject 
has been attended to, and some emblem provided to per- 
petuate the fame of this great man : and in a recent instance 
the Legislature of one of the southern Altantick states, by 
their resolution and approbation of a sum of money for the 
purpose, have borne honourable testimony to the recollec- 
tion of his virtues. 

The committee further report^ That the plan of erecting 
t: Monument to Washington, may be divided into two parts; 
either a Statue to be placed in some publick building, or an 
Architectural Monument to be erected in some publick place. 

A Statue with suitable pedestal and accompaniments, 
might be estimated to cost from ten to fifteen thousand dol- 
lars, if it be attempted to execute it in a manner worthy 
the object. 

The placmg such a Statue is attended with some diffi- 
culty 4 the severity of the winters in our climate, would be 
likely to injure a Statue, if constantly exposed to the wea- 
ther without a covering. 

In Europe, the monumental statuses erected to illustrious 
men, are deposited in churches or palaces, whose solid 
walls and durable construction make them endure for ages. 

A marble statue designed for perpetuity, would be ab- 
surdly placed on a wooden floor, which might crumble un- 
der it in less than a century : this difficulty might be par- 
tially remedied, if such a statue should be placed in the 
cfintre of the State-House floor, by erecting under it a solid 
mass of stone work, on which it might stand independent of 
the floor. 

Such a Statue, if simple in its details, might be rendered 
still more serviceable to the state, by taking plaster copies 
of the same, which might be done at a very trifling expense^ 
and one of them given to each county, to be put up in the 
Court-House, or some other publick building of the county. 
. Your committee say nothing of an Equestrian Statue ; 
those being attended with very great expense, can only be 
placed to*advantage in some magnificent publick square, and 
in the present state of the arts in our country, would per- 
haps be impossible to have executed with sufficient perfec- 
tion to have rendered it valuable. 

Should, however, such a Statue be resolved upon, the 
centre of the common, or the centre of the ground in frpnt 
of the State-House, may be considered the most eligible 
scites. 



340 Monument to Washington. [Marcbj 

With respect to an Architectural Monument, the princi« 
pal form are, a Triumphal Arch, a column or an obelisk, with 
allegorical figures in basso relievo about their bases. 

A Triumphal Arch should have a long avenue to its ap- 
proach, and perhaps the only spot where such an object 
could be advantageously placed, as things now are, would 
be in this capital, at the entrance of Washington-street. 

An obelisk or a column, would be the kind of Monument 
which coqid now be erected with the greatest ease ; different 
situations might be selected for this purpose, but one how-' 
ever will be designated in this Report, and that is the 
mound to the westward of the ancient elm tree in the com- 
mon. The gentle and sufficient elevation of the aground, 
the capability of the surrounding enclosure being highly 
improved, the almost unexampled beauty of the western 
landscape, the wide area which must always remain open, 
and its being in sight of the State-House, are some of the 
reasons that may be adduced for erecting a triumphal 
column or obelisk in this situation. 

But your Committee find, that on the 18th day of January, 
A. D. 1800, this Legislature passed a Resolution which hat 
never been rescinded, in the following words — '^ Reaolved, 
that a Statue or Monument of Marble be erected on the 
centre of the lower hall in the new State House, in memory 
of General George Washington, with inscriptions and de- 
vices adapted to impress a due sense of his sublime virtues, 
to extend and perpetuate their influence, and to express 
the publick gratitude for his eminent services." 

Therefore, your Committee beg leave to report the fol- 
lowing Resolutions, which are respectfully submitted. 

MARK LANGDON HILL, Chairman. 

The substance of these resolutions has been already given. 



5.] Original Poetrjf. 341 



TRANSLATION. 

BOR : »• III. 13, 

Blandusian Fount! thy waters clear. 
More bright than chrystal gem appear; 
Libations of the mantling wine 
Shall flow before thy sacred shrine, 
From goblets crownM with flowers. 

To-morrow's sacrifice shall bring 
The sportive fatling to thy spring. 
Whose swelling front and wanton air, 
Declare him ripe for love or war. 
Alas ! in vain, his scarlet blood, 
Shall tinge the springing of thy flood. 

The scorching dog-star's sultry heat, 
Can never reach thy coo! retreat— 
The shades that circle round thy stream, 
Reanimate the wearied team, 

And oft the wandering flock.— 

43weet water ! thou shalt soon belong 
To fountains proud, renown'd in song. 
When I have prais'd the wavering oak. 
That overhangs the hollow rock. 

From whence thy murmuring rills descend. 

W . , . . E> 



observing in the last number of your journal some ac-^ 
it of the lamented Theodoric Tudor Randolph, 
ace the following lines at your disposal. Cambridge^. 
\> the Editor. 



IN T. T. KANDOLPHI MEMORIAM. 

Si fratrem fratri, sobolem plorare parenti, 
Vel socium sociis undique flere licet, 

9int vobis lachrymae, vobis sit planctus, Alumni^ 
Ne cobibe luctum tristis et Alma Parens I 



342 Original Poetry. (IVfarcI^ 

Queiii nuper viilisti ingens tibi nomen honoris, 

Ille jacet tumulo, doctaque lingua silet. 
Quid juvat ingenium, doctrina, operumque labores ?. 

Romanos, G racios, quid coluiaee modos ? 
Incumbens studiis docuisti tempora vitae, 

Artibus ingenuis, hen ! celerare fugam. 
Mole sua premitur culmi sic pondus aristis. 

Quid tua nos virtus ? Quid pietasve valet ? 
Heu ! frustra miseris haec prosint compescere cursum ;-^ 

Optima tolluntur ; — sic Ganymedis honos. 
Si tibi Di dederint humilem Theodorice meniem, 

Defuerit Musae si Dimis acer amor, 
Si praeceps famae, famae si sacra cupido. 

Esses dulce decus praesidiumque tuis. 
Splendidior citius sese sed conficit ignis ; 

Flammea vis animi ac corpus inane terit 
Ah ! puer infelix, potior, seu tunc cecidisses 

Natali gremio, fata levante domo, 
Seu dulcem posuisti animam nos inter Alumno^ 

Musaruro socios hoc Helicone novo. 
'Exequias fristes videt pene ultima Tbule, 

Redditur externis atque supremus honor. 
Nescio quis juvenum, saeclis vol ventibus aevj^ 

Tecum qui studiis tempora grata dedit, 
Nexuit insignes hederae laurique coronas 

In celeris Cami vel viridante toro, 
Glim quum viset disjunctos orbe Britannos, 

Qua cineres tumulo sint tibi, sistet iter, " 
Ac multum lachrymans eflfundet talia luctiis 

Fontibus ei sylvis. En! jacet ille Tudor. 
Cui vivo, virtus, pietas, moresque modes ti» 

Ingenium praestans, assiduusque labor, 
Finxisset signum nomenque perennius aeere. 

Quern nunc hospitii mafmora sola notant, 
Huic, querulus vates, indicam carmine laudes, 

(Quis prohibet ?) memorans terque graterque vale. 



to the editor. 
Sir, 

In your volume of the Review for January last, under the 
head of " Institution for the Fine Arts,^* I observed enume- 
rated the names of several ingenious artists of this town* 
No one 1% more ready than the writer of this article, to award 
to the gentlemen named in your publication, the meed of ap^ 



1816.} Institution for the. Fine ArtSi 343 

plause which is sojustly their due: yet I could not repress 
a feeling of sincere regret, that in this catalogue, the name 
of Mr. Henry Williams had been omitted. I again 
recurred to the essays and found- what I presume to haver- 
been the cause of the omission, in the following words : 

" The list given is a very hasty and no doubt imperfect 
one ; but it is certainly sufficient to shew that it is not the 
want of artists,, which should prevent our commencing an 
institution that would afford them the advantages of study- 
ing the best models ; and the publick an opportunity of be^ 
holding, of cheering, and rewarding theif labours." 

I do not obtrude this note upon your attention with any 
other view,^ than to do justice to one whom 1 consider aa 
ingenious^ meritorious, useful and industrious citizen. For 
versatility of talent, and eiLcellence ii> every department of 
the fine arts which he has yet undertaken, it is believed 
that Mr. Williams* has no &uperiour in this town. The 
firmness of drawing, elegance of colouring, and power of 
resemblance, which characterize his portrait and miniature 
paintings ; and the elegant style in which his highly meri* 
torious Anatomical preparations are constructed, (requiring 
the most accurate knowledge of one of the most important 
of the sciences) — afford ample evidence of his ingenuity and 
skill. 

When it is considered that Mr. Williams is a native 
citizen of the town ; that he is indefatigable in his attention 
to the various branches of his business ; and that a familj 
are dependent on the proceeds of his industry, it is thought 
that an enJightened publick will continue to patronize one,, 
whose claims and whose talents are so well established. 

February, 18ie. JUSTICE. 

[We insert the preceding letter to repair any injustice we 
may have committed. The list of artists given in our last 
number was confessedly imperfect, and the result of very 
hasty inquiries. We have no doubt that there are other 
meritorious individuals whose names have been omitted. 
We hope the time is not distant, when publick patronage will 
be turned towards our own artists, and that a liberal institu- 
tion, by giving an opportunity to display their productions ia 
some place where publick attention will be concentrated ; 
will render it more easy te ascertain their number and their 
merits.] 



344 Extract from Taylor^s Sermons. [Marcb, 

« 

Extract from Jeremt Taylor on the Duties of Married 
Life. Vol. 1. p. 346, Boston Edition. 

It was rarely observed by Philo, that, when Adam 
made that fond excuse for his folly in eating the for- 
bidden fruit, he said, ^^ The woman thou gavest me to 
be with me, she gave me." He says not, ^^ The wo- 
man which thou gavest to me:" no such thing; she 
is none of his goods, none of his possessions, not to be 
reckoned amongst his servants ; God did not give her to 
hitnso; but, ^' The woman thou gavcHt to be roUkme;^' 
that is, to be my partner, the companion of my joys and 
sorrows ; thou gavest her for use, not for dominion. The 
dominion of a man over his wife is no other, than as the 
»oul rules the body ; for which it takes a mighty care, and 
uses it with a delicate tenderness, and cares for it in all con- 
tingencies, and watches to keep it from all evils, and studies 
to make for it fair provisions, and very often is led by its 
inclinations and desires, and does never contradict its ap- 
petites but when they are evil, and then also not without 
some trouble and sorrow ; and its government comes only 
to this, it furnishes the body with light and understanding, 
and the body furnishes the soul with bands and feet. The 
soul governs, because the body cannot else be happy, but 
the government is no other than provision ; as a nurse go- 
verns a child, when she causes him to eat, and to be warm, 
and dry, and quiet: and yet even the very government 
itself is divide^ ; for man and wife in the family, are as the 
sun and moon in the firmament of heaven ; he rules by day, 
and she by night ; that is, in the lesser and more proper cir- 
cles of her affairs, in the conduct of domestick provisions 
and necessary offices, and shines only by his light, and rules 
by his authority : and as the moon in opposition to the sun 
shines brightest ; that is, then, when she is in her own 
circles and separate regions ; so is the authority of the wife 
then most conspicuous, when she is separate and in her 
proper sphere ; in the nursery and offices of domestick 
employment : but when she is in conjunction with the sun 
her brother; that is, in that place and employment in which 
his care and proper offices are employed, her light is not 
seen, her authority hath no proper bqsiness. But else 
there is no difference : for they were barbarous people, 
among whom "wives were instead of servants; and it is a 



1816.] Extract from Taylor* s Sermons. 34d 

sigQ of impotencj and weakness, to force the camels to kneel 
for their load, because thou hast not spirit and strength 
enough to climb: to make the affections and evenness of a 
wife bend by the flexures of a sen ant, is a sign the man is 
not wise enough to govern, when another stands by. So 
many difierences as can be in the appellatives of dominus 
and domma, governour and governess, lord and lady, mas- 
ter and mistress, the same difference there is in the autho* 
rity of man and woman, and no more. Si tu Caius^ ego 
Cam, was ppblickly proclaimed upon the threshold of the 
young man's house, when the bride entered into his hands 
and power ; and the title of domina^ in the sense of the 
civil law, was among the Romans given to wives* 

Hi dominam Ditis thalamo diducere adorti,* 

said Virgil: where, though Servius says it was spoken 
after the manner of the OreekSy who called the wife At^fntittt^ 
lady or mistress, yei it was so among both the nations. 

Ac domus dominam voca, — says Catullus ; 
. Haerebit dominae vir comes ipse suae,~*£o Martial :t 

And therefore, although there is just measure of subjection 
and obedience due from the wife to the husband, (as I shall 
hereafter explain,) yei nothing of this is expressed in the 
man's character, or in his duty ; he is not commanded to 
rule, nor instructed how, nor bidden to exact obedience, or 
to .defend his privilege; all his duty is signified by love, by 
nourishing and cheriskingjX by being joined with her in all 
the unions of chanty, by not being bitter to fecr,|| by dwel- 
ling with her according to knowledge^ giving honour to 
her :^ so that it seems to be with husbands, as it is with 
bishops and priests, to wbonfi much honour is dife, but yet 
so that if they stand upon it, and challenge it, they become 
less honourable. And as amongst men and women humility 
is the way to be preferred ; so it is in husbands, they shall 
prevail by cession, by sweetness and counsel^ and charity 
and compliance. 

* Aeneid. Lib. vi. 
Who from bis lofty dome aspir*d to lead 
Tbe beauteous partner of his royal bed. 

t Epithal. Juliae. t^^phes. y25. |1 Col. iii. 19. } 1 Peter iii. 7. 
Vol. 11. No. (5. 44 



THE NORTH-AMERICAN REVIEW, 

Travels in England. 

Continued ftom p. S79. 

We bad made so many extracts from fliis work, that they 
exceeded our liDiits, and as tbej were already io type and" 
we knew nothing better we could present to the poblick,. 
we have, contrary to a rule determined upon, continued (he 
article to the present number. The work is, we presume^ 
by this time repubKshed in New- York, and will, we faope^ 
be eagerly purchased, and generally read. It is not like 
the common trash of travels, but worthy of a penhaneni 
station in every library. The author has given a favour* 
able picture of England, yet it is such an one, as every 
traveller, whose mind is not confounded by the sight 
of new objects, or warped by prejudice,- would give.^ He 
undoubtedly might have found many dark shades fo have 
put in his picture, if he had wanted, like most English 
travellers,^ in this country at least, to s^k for deformities 
which might be exaggerated into cariciiture. But the 
object of a fair minded traveller should not be,, to seek for 
defects which na country is without, but to generalize ; and 
as a general picture, we assert from some share of personal 
experience, that this performance is remarkably correct.. 
On reflection, we can hardly name a traveller, who has 
brought so much good sense, good taste, and that presence 
of mind, if we may use the phrase, to receive the first im* 
pressions of a foreign country distinctly ; and that clearness 
of style to narrate them without confusion.. Above all, we 
ad^nire what is still more uncommon,, its coolness, absence 
of prejudice, and complete independence of party feelings 
in judging of the state of a country, where party spirit is 
so strong, that it is almost impossible even fostti foreigner, to 
avoid blending his feelings with one side or the other, adopt- 
ing their opinions^ and colouring every object accordr 
ingly. 




Travels in England. 

We agree with bira in raoal poinis, where he mefltioni 
} -(he Unileil Slates incidentally; bul in some we differ from 
iiim ; and in those it iseas/ to remark, the influence of party 
feelings, and the forming his judgment after certain received 
though exaggerated theories. We hardlj know a book 
which we ihould read with sue K aviitiiy, as a book of Iraseli 
in this country, nritlen by some foreigner, as sagacioua, 
candid, and exempt from paasion, as the author of the noik 
■before us. 
B "Mr. Lancaster, like other heroes, owes something to 
Bcbance, — to ihe evident struggle for power between the 
P^stablished church and the diiferenl sects of non-tonform- 
wta, who have a common interest of jealousy. The es- 
tablished church enjoys all the worldly advantages ; wealth, 
consideration, and supremacy, its dignitaries throw general- 
ly fhelr weigh) on Ihe ministerial aide — no wonder they 
Elhould be haled by their opponents! That spirit of In- 
Kquiry, boldness and originality of thinking, for which thii 
Peouniry is dislinguished, the liberty of the presa, and a 
Cei^lain degree of seriousness which has been denominated 
Sloom and mebncboly, have long made it the hot-bed of re- 
ligious seels, and of political factions. New apostlen of Ihe 
fospel rise up from time to lime, who explain it in diOerent 
ways, and kindle al Ihe fire of their own enthusiasm the 
ipTSgination of their followers. The nature of the particu- 
lar dogma isof liltle importance — any thing very enthusias- 
tic succeeds ; and those who address themselves to the 
terrours of superstition, more certainly, than those, who in- 
culcate a rational confidence, grounded on Ihe atlribules of 
the Supreme Being. The sect of the Methodists who 
preach hell and damnation, and place faith before works, 
ban made astonishing progress; while that of the Unitari- 
aniB who see in Chrial little more than a wise man, extendB 
very little. Enthusiasm, however, like other passions, sub- 
aidea in time, and none of these seels have a %'ery long du- 
ration. The Presbylerians, Ihe Independents, the Quakers, 
do not increase, and perhaps diminish. Very probably 
tbeae sects, even the most extravagant, are nel an evil — 
new conterU being generally remarkable for the purity 
and simplicity of (l»eir morals. Sectaries indeed, do not 
ingenei'al cultirate the fine arts, not the belles lellres; — 
ith little elegance or polish among Ihem; — they 
of laste ; but they are generally honest and re^ 



I 



34S Travels in England. [Marcliy 

spectable, notwithstanding a slight tincture of pride and 
hypocrisy, mixed with christian lowliness* The pastor 
among them, holding his tenure upon the good pleasure of 
his congregation, must exert himself and shew some zeal ; 
while the clergy of the established church being indepen- 
dent, have come, at least so I am told, to fulfil their functions 
merely as a professional duty, strictly perhaps, but coldly. 
Auricular confession, and all the practices of the Roman 
Catholick church, keep an h{\bitual intercourse between 
the clergy and the people. There is comparatively none 
in the English church, and the episcopal clergy are little 
else than an aristocratical body in the state. Returning 
from Scotland, where the clergy are particularly grave and 
decorous, we are the more struck with the smart appear- 
ance of the English clergy. I observed a few days ago at 
the house of one of these reverend persons, a pair of sparring 
gloves ; and the sight put me'in mind of Dr. Moore's anec- 
dote about the young man who thought he bad a vocation 
for the church, * because he liked field sports so much.' 
You meet in the best society a number of young clergy- 
men, brought up in the expectancy of some good living, of 
which their families or friends have the presentation. 
Those young men have received an education, which sets 
any talents they may have offto the best advantage ; — they 
are idle enough to be amiable^ and welcome every where 
like our abbes formerly. A well brushed tsuit of black 
forms the essential of their establishment ; nobody inquires 
where they lodge, nor at what ordinary they eat their meal. 
We have in the upper part of the house where we lodge, 
one of these expectants of the good things of the church. 
From his garret he went the other day to Carleton house, 
to be presented — he dines out every day — is of all the 
parties — and comes home at two o'clock in the morning.' 
p. 132. vol. ii. 

" Mr. Davy's lectures at the Royal Institution are still 
more crowded than they were the last year, and the lecturer 
himself more than ever sought after by the great and the 
fair. It would be a matter of great regret, if the allurements 
of science, should at last prove inferior to those of fashion, 
and if future fame should be sacrificed to ephemeral suc- 
cesses. The elocution of this celebrated chemist is very 
different from the usual tone of men of science in England; 
his lectures are frequently figurative and poetical ; and he 



1816.] Travels in England. 849 

is occasionally carried away by the natural tendency of his 
subject, and of his genius, into the depths of moral philoso- 
phy and religion. The peculiarities of great and original 
writers or speakers have often introduced a . vicious 
affectation in the language of their numerous followers ; — 
and English simplicity runs some such risk at the amphi- 
theatre of the Royal Institution. The voice and manners 
of Mr. Davy are rather gentle than impressive and strong; 
he knows what nature has given him, and what it has with- 
held, and husbands bis means accordingly. You may al- 
ways foresee by a certain turning or pitching of the organ 
of speech to a graver key, thrusting his chin into his neck, 
and even pulling out his cravat, when Mr. Davy is going 
to be eloquent, — for he rarely yields to the inspiration till 
he is duly prepared. It is impossible to stud) nature and 
penetrate into the secret of its proceedings, without discov- 
ering at every step such evidence of a plan, such fitness of 
things to a general purpose, and a purpose so benevo- 
lent, that conviction flashes at once on the mind of an omni- 
potent intelligence, and further hopes are inseparable from 
that conviction. If ordinary spectators experience an in- 
Toluntary impulse of enthusiasm, what must be rhe feelings 
of him, who, penetrating the first into regions hitherto un- 
known, has raised the corner of the thick veil, and untied 
one of the last knots of the great tissue of wonders ? I have 
heard the moral digressions of the illustrious naturalist, and 
his solemn appeals to the supreme wisdom severely criticis- 
ed ; but the greatest part of his audience hears them with 
delight and applause, and I think Mr. Davy would disarm 
criticism, if he abandoned himself more naturally to his 
spontaneous feelings, which are legitimately called forth by 
the occasion. I must say however, that I think the satis- 
faction of Mr. Davy's audience is somerimes expressed 
with more zeal than delicacy. Where clapping is allowed, 
hissing may follow. 

** May 7. Although artists enjoy here very little personal 
consideration, and pride is a principal feature ot English 
manners, yet we find a copartnership actually existing be- 
tween certain persons of fashion and a company of public 
singers. The Dutchess of D. lady C. lady K. and lady 
S. B. allowed a concert for money to be performed in each 
of their houses successively. In return for the trouble, 
refreshments, wear and tear of the hoi|se, lights, &c. &c. 



.1 

959 Travels in England* [Mardiy 

the ladies distribute a certain number of tickets on their re- 
spective nights, all given away I should hope : — but I would 
not answer for that — for shabbiness and gentility are often 
found together. The last night was lady S. B'a night; 
constables and door keepers received the tickets at the 
door, just like any other public concert. The crowd was 
prodigious, {Bianchiy Rtriinolih Tramezani^ &c.) — but 
music was not what they came for, and the true enjoyment 
does not in fact begin till the concert is over. Tiie going 
away is the thing ; that is, seeing other people go away, not 
going away one's self. Therefore, although there is a gene- 
ral heaving and rolling of the well-dressed mob towards the 
door, the tide returns many a time * loth to leave such 
scenes.' Meanwhile, as carriages drive successively to the 
door, the names are vociferated, but vociferated in vam ;— r 
none will go first : — they drive away empty to take their 
tufn again : the footmen swear and scold, and speak rudely 
to the mob of masters ; at last some of them depart but it 
is hours before the house is empty. The prime situation 
all that time is at the top of the stairs, whence you have a 
full view ot all the heads — four fifths are women. Men have 
not the same keen relish for this sort of pleasure. The 
Bishop of B. and W. was distinguished among them, and 
see ned to enjoy it all, calling aloud, '' welly welly only build 
thurchesy^ p. 150. vol, ii. 

" June. Albury. We have been here for some days, in 
a very pretty country, already described last year, and 
where the kind attention of other friends, and the virtue of 
strawberries are likely to complete my recovery. Before 
a stranger ventures to pass final sentence on the anti-social 
manners of the English, he should see them at home in 
the coimtry. London is not their home ; it is an encamp- 
ment for business and pleasure, where every body thinks 
of himself. -You might as well look for humanity in a field 
of battte, as for urbanity and attentions in a busy r.rowd. 

^' This is sheep-shearing time, whi^h in England is i. 4ort 
of festivity like the moisson in the north of France, and the 
vendange in the south, and the principal harvest in all coun- 
tries. The sack of wool on which the Chancellor sits ia 
Parliament is well known to be emblematick of the impor- 

*" There is some subscription going on for building a chinch u tbii 
part oi' the town. 



Travels in England. 

faace oflliiB produclion. The mirfb and feslivUj of ibe 
people here is quite calm, anil a feU after iheir manner, 
migbl in Languedoc be inislakeD foe a funeral. If (he 
counfr/ people dance, il is wilboul elaslicilj', vivatifj-, or 
ardour ; il Ihey sing il is far worse i nothing ever was less 
tauEical Iban the indigenous English oiusick, wiib ils jerks 
and starts, lolling along ils rugged way, without either dig- 
oiiy, li\elineasai'ienderaesB : — aodifferent from the Scotch 
musick, which possesses at least one of these modes of ex- 
pression, and fiooi the llaliao musick which uniles them all. 
Italian niusick is now naluralized in Kngland, but il will not 
■upersede the old tavern musick su entirely, as il did in 
France, the old flat stye ', and so far as il h connected with 
Dational enlbusiasm, it is perhaps better il should be ao. 
The native musick of Ibe soulheru extremity of France, 
formed auexi^eplion to the dulness of [he naliunal musical 
bAle, asthal of iNoith compared to South Biilaiu." p. 
921, vol. ii. 

"The pursuit of agriculfure does not occupy soexclusivc- 
Ij the winds of the people in the counhy, as not to admit 
of a very keen relish for town news. The Prince Regent 
ba« given a very magnificent fete, which was the object o£ 
general conversation for a foilntght. It was computed that 
X600 persons invited, supposed at least "lOO carriages ; and 
thai allowing two minutes for each, more than 13 hours 
would be required for the whole number to be delivered at 
tbe door -, and Ihat beginning at eleven o'clock at night, it 
takes till Iwelve Ihe next day ! His Majesly having heard of 
the intended fele, is said to have asked, whether he might 
not be permilled to ^o as a private genlleman. This raille- 
ry is in the samespirit with another boti mot of this august 
patient, " Here yoit see me," he said to a person who ap- 
proached hiio, ina moment of personal restraint, indispen- 
•able in his situation, " checkmated." p. 224, vol. ii. 

" The maid servant of our lodgings (a fisherman's cottage 
in the Isle of Wight) a simple, goodnalured, honest crea- 
ture, who was born on Ihis spot and was never out of sight 
of the landslip, has a child ; but il turned out on inquiry, 
that she never had a husband ; and I am informed, thai the 
landlady, a very pretty young woman just married, has re- 
marked on the occasion, Ihat it was no uncommon case. — 
She blamed the practice as inisnfe, observing with great ap- 
fearanceof simplicity, that for her part she thought il was 



352 Travels in England* [March, 

better to secure a husband first. We had much the same 
information in Cumberland, and in other parts of the conn- 
try ; and I really think the facility of American manners, 
about which travellers have made ill-natured remarks, has 
a precedent here to go by/' p* 244. vol. ii. 

'* America and the Americans take up very little of the 
attention of Europe ; and even here, where there are so mar 
ny points of contact with the people of the United StateK, 
they would be surprised to find their feelings of partiality 
or of hatred so faintly recipiocated. An official letter of 
the officer who had the late unfortunate rencontre with the 
Little Belt, as published in the newspapers, was however 
mentioned at a dinner where 1 happened to be lately ; and 
the matter and style of that letter were given as an instance 
of the want of temper and manners, and the bad tone al- 
together, so conspicuous in most productions of that sort 
in America. A person who had ft>een formerly in America 
observed, on the occasion, that the writer of this letter had 
many years before, published a still more objectionable ac- 
count of an action between a French and an American 
Frigate. It was remarkable at the same time, that the narra- 
tor of the commonest incident in a newspaper, (nearly the 
only specimen of American literature known in Europe,) 
seemed to think it a fit opportunity to establish his claim to 
pathetick eloquence, or liveliness of wit, which was al- 
ways so utterly manqvi, and in such inveterate bad taste, 
as to excite the astonishment of European readers ; and 
must necessarily lead them to suppose the state of manners 
in the United States, and general information, very inferi- 
our to what it certainly is. Ample justice was done to the 
talent for abuse of the political writers of that country, the 
force, if not the originality of their invectives, shewing them 
to have profited by the long residence of Mr. Cobbett 
among them. 

" A person who has lived many years in America, men- 
tioned as an exception to this general prevalence of bad 
taste, the practice of the American bar, which he maintain- 
ed was vastly more becoming the dignity of the law, and 
better fitted to the end of justice than the pert, flippant, 
and insolent mode of examining witnesses, and handling the 
reputation and character of adverse parties, which prevails 
in England to a disgusting degree, and may well afford to 
an American the opportunity of retorting the accusation of 



1816.] Travels in England. 353 

bad taste. He suggested also that the legislature of the 
United States was not so dedcient in talents, liberality, and 
ioformation, as the very imperfeet report of their speeches 
and proceedings, given in the newspapers, might induce 
European readers to suppose. The bad taste of their jokes, 
wJien they attempt any, was to be sure very striking; 
their invective was coarse, and their elevation commonly 
bombastick and frothy. But when they relinquished ima- 
gination, and kept to plain sense and reason, it was maintain- 
ed that some of the members of Congress would do honour 
to a British Parliament. One indeed, who is said to have 
taken Chatham for his model, was noticed for the peculiar 
vigour and originality of his eloquence ; yet it was thought 
to be generally too high, or too low, either turgid or trivial^ 
and with superiour advantages of fortune and edi^cation, 
often vulgar both in the language and ideas. 

The style of an illustrious personage, who ranks among the 
few literati of the United States, and has been their first 
chief Magistrate, was mentioned, as another instance of vi- 
cious taste, involved, over fine, affectedly philosophical^ 
ingenious, rather than sound, and corrupted by the mixture 
of foreign idioms. An instance of perfect purity of taste^ 
of justness of conception and expression, was at last unani- 
mously acknowledged, in a man, who stands equally pre- 
eminent in the old and in the new world, as a hero, and a 
patriot, and a sage. It belongs to Washington alone to be 
thus held a model of all that is great and good. Another 
of the heroes of American independence,^ and a man of 
more genius, as much purity, but less unerring sense than 
Washington ; was supposed to have lent his pen to him. 
He might in some instances, and certainly did in the most 
memorable and the last ; but Washington's style was too 
uniformly good, and on all occasions, public or private, not 
to have been essentially his own. 

^* From American taste and manners, the conversation na- 
turally turned to American politics ; and a gentleman dis- 
tinguished by his legal and legislative eloquence, a states- 
man who has been denominated the British Cicero, disap- 
proved the haughty tone of the British government in 
regard to that country. The Americans, he said, shew a 
provoking partiality for our enemy, and an oifeusive difi- 

* Hamilton. 
Vol. II. No. 6. 45 



3j4 Travels in England. [Bf arcb, 

like of ourselvesy without any adequate cause, — let it be «o; 
the surest way to remove these prejudices would be^toact 
as if we were not sensible that they did exist. We can be 
magnanimous with impunity, now that we are the strongest^ 
and might hope to etfect a cure before the time comes, 
when we shall be compelled to be proud in our own de- 
fence. Lord Erskine, ex-chanceilor, for I have already 
sufEciently designated him, is about sixty years of age, 
tall, of a noble, frank and expressive countenance,— rspeak- 
ing well, freely and without pretensions, and with the ut- 
most good humour. Faithful io the doctrines of his party, 
he expressed himself on the consequences of the war with 
great despondency. The country is brought to the brink of 
ruin — in fact it is ruined, — land is the only safe property, — 
stick to acres, &c. &c. Farming was talked of; and in 
proof of the universality of the taste for agriculture as a pur- 
suit here, I shall state that Lord Erskine, who was early 
in life, in the army, and I believe in the navy also, followed 
afterwards the law as a profession, became chancellor, and 
was all his life a man of the world, as well as a man of busi- 
ness — seemed as much axifaii on the subject, as if he had 
spent his whole life on the family estate in Scotland, p* 
268. vol. ii. 

" Seyt, 5. Wishing to see, or rather thinking it incumbent 
on me to see, something of the prisons of this capital, I 
called to-day at the most considerable of them, Newgate. 
A turnkey took me up a back stair-case to the leads, from 
which, like Asmodeus in the Diable Boiteux, I had a view 
into the interiour, and could see what was doing in the dif- 
ferent divisions of this melancholy abode. We first 
perched upon the debtor*s ward, — they sat and walked 
about in two courts, paved with flag stones and very clean; 
th« women separated from the men. Some of the women, 
(they were few) held up their bands to me for alms. 1 ob- 
served written on Jhe walls in very large letters, jLord JMot- 
ra for ever,^ Then we went to the felons under sentence 
of death. They were playing fives against the wall of a 
narrow court ; their irons fastened on one leg only, from 
the knee to the ankle, over a sort of cushion, and so vt- 
ranged as to make no noise, and to be no impediment at all 

* Tiord Moira had made some motion in Parliament in favoor 
of insoivent debtors. 



2816.] Travels in Englani. 355 

to their motion : in fact a mere matter of form — and so iff 
also in a great degree the sentence of death itself. Not 
one of these people appeared fo beheve it serious. One 
of them^ whose companions had been executed for forgery,* 
had been reprieved the day before, having turned evidence, 
and they «#re all playing with great briskness and glee. In 
one of the courts, the one I think for felons under sentence 
of transportation, I was shewn the man who fit ed a pisto) 
at iiiQ king twelve or fifteen years ago at the theatre. He 
stood picking his teeth in a corner very composedly, — well 
dressed and looking young (he must have been quite young 
at the time.) I asked whether the man was insane. Noi 
at ally said the turnkey, aio more than you^ only very cun- 
ning. Bui what is there so cunning in getting himself shut 
up here for life ? They have made him foreman of the 
ward, he has a good salary, a guinea a week 1 think he 
said, happy as a king — eats the best of every thing — what 
can he want more ! The transportation ladies crowded in a 
small court, were much more disorderly than the men. 
Tdey threatened and wrangled among themselves, singing, 
vociferating, and as miich as the narrow space allowed, 
moving about in all sorts of dresses, — one of them in men's 
ploihes. They are not in irons like the men. In a more 
spacious court, separated from these women by a high wall^ 
were state prisoners, as my guide called them, playing fives 
^he favourite pastime of Newgate it seems.) One of them, 
well dressed, and wearing powder, about forty years of age, 
was pointed out to me as Haslet of the bank. He was play- 
ing merrily with another gentleman^ as my guide, a most 
Tulgar wretch, called them. This other gentleman was a 
printer, who had been there two years for striking for 
mageSy and has one or two years more to stay. Three or 
four years confinement in Newgate, for a confederacy of 
journeymen to hs^e their wages raised, seems to me most 
excessive, especially as their employers may confederate 
as ranch as they please for the reduction of wages. The 
associations of workmen, and raising a fund among them- 
selves under certain officers, have been thought a contri- 
vance of revolutionary tendency ; and there may have been 
something of that sort in the present case. I inquired for 
Mr. Cobbet, expecting to see him among the gentlemen. — ' 

* There is no pardon for forgery. 



356 Travels in England. (IVTatcb; 

Oh noy said my turntey, he is too great for that» Where 
IB lie then? — Why he*s in the govemour^s hotist^ — Pll 
show yotiy — plenty of money^ and that is every thing yon 
know. Then walking farther on the leads, he shewed me 
a grated door, through which I could see a carpetted room 
— Mr. Cobbet's room. He has the key of the grated 
door, and therefore free access to this leaden roof, which 
is extensive, high and airy, with a most beautiful view of 
St. Paul's and over a great part of the city. His family is 
with him, and he continues to pour out his torrent of abuse 
as freely as ever, on every thing and every body in turn. 
Mr. Cobbet seems to me to furnish, without intending it, 
the same sort of evidence in favour of the liberty of the 
press in his own country, as a philosopher of antiquity 
gave of the existence of motion. 

** The strange medley of licentiousness and legal restraint^ 
of freedom and confinement, of punishment for what is done 
and liberty to do the same again, is really very curious. 
A n heTCTOgeneous compound it seems at first ; complex, 
artificial, inconsistent and laboriously insufficient ; but, I 
thii^k, best upon the ^hole. The constitution has provi- 
ded certain civil ingredients; they are thrown together and 
left to ferment, and struggle and combine, abandoned to their 
chemical affinities. The chemist to be sure, is accused of 
not giving always fair play to the experiment, and meddling 
wilh the process, as his views incline to particular results. 
But upon the whole, how much nearer it comes to the im- 
niiitability of general laws, than the simple arbitrary pro- 
cesses of other countries ?" p. 272. vol. ii. 

^^Sept, 25, 1811. — We are waiting only for a change of 
wind to go on board the ship, which is to carry us awayi for 
ever perhaps, from a country, where we have been received 
with kindness, and where we leave a feMi friends. There 
IS a seriousness in the thought, — and the near prospect of a 
long voyage and all its hazards, is not likely to dissipate the 
gloom. If I was asked at this moment, for a summary 
opinion of what I have seen in England, I might probablj 
say, that its political institutions present a detail of corrupt 
practices, — of profusion, — and of personal ambition, under 
the mask of public spirit very carelessly put on, more dis- 
gusting than I should have expected : the workings of the 
selfish passions are exhibited in all their nakedness and de- 
formity. On the other hand, 1 should admit very readily} 



1 8 16.] Travels in England. 85T 

that I have found the great mass of the people richer, hap- 
pier and more respectable, than any of tier with which I am 
acquainted. I have seen prevailing among all ranks of peo- 
ple, that emulation of industry and independence, which 
characterize a state of civilization properly directed. The 
manners, and the whole deportment of superiors to inferiors, 
are marked with that just regard and circumspection, which 
announce the presence of laws equal for all. By such signs, 
I know this to be the best government that ever exiHted. I 
sincerely admire it in its results, but I cannot particularly 
like the means. What I dislike here, I might be told* be- 
longs to human nature in general ; to the world rather ihan 
to England particularly. It may be so, and I shall not un- 
dertake the panegyric of either the one or the other. 

" The government of England is eminently practical. 
The one under which I have lived for many years might be 
defined, on the contrary, a government of abstract principles. 
Certain ideas have taken possession of men's minds, and 
. they cling to them, as to the religion in which they were 
born, without examination. The measures of the govern- 
ment have the prejudices of the multitude for their basis — 
always the same under any change of circumstances, — and 
to be obeyed in defiance of the better judgment of that very 
government. Were the people left to themselves, they 
might come to a better judgment of things ; but they are 
encompassed by newspapers, conducted by the mercenary 
pens of men, often foreigners, who find it more convenient 
to flatter prejudices and inflame passions, than to rectify 
and enlighten ; they follow the stream of public opinion — 
yet they swell the tide and give it its headlong violence,^ 

* The principal distinction in the United States, is that of poor and 
rich. The poor being more Dumerous, are, by virtue of the univer- 
sality of suiira^e, the sovereign, whom government must obey, or be 
dismissed. The rich are naturally an object of jealousy to the poor, 
pariicularly when neither birth, nor scarcely any other superiority, 
softens the inequality, and renders it respectable. Therefore the 
measures of the government must be unfavourable to the rich ; that, 
is, to commerce, the only road to wealth in the United States. It is 
to be observed, that almost every individual who becomes wealthy en- 
ters ipso fac'o the ranks of opposition, and vice versa those of fallen 
fortunes. Talents are to be ibund in opposition to government in 
* America as in Fngland, because it is the brilliant side ; but wealth in 
England is arrayed on the side of government, with whom it feels sate, 
while in America it feels the ill will of a government dependent on the 
poor, and seeks the protection of the talents in the opposition. 4 



358 Travels in England. [Marcl^ 

and the people believe themselves free under an oligarcbj 
of newspaper writers. 

'* The different goyernments of the continent of Europe, 
old and infirm, are half factious, half despotic ; one alone 
purely despotick, overpowers the others by its unitj and 
its energy. This state of things, which makes the people 
a mere instrument, and has the prince for its sole object ; 
makes of course secret enemies of all those who do not 
share in his si;reatness, and are out of the sphere of his 
splendour. England, after all, is the only country in the 
workl, where chance, perhaps, as much as human wisdom, 
compounding with the vices and virtues of our species, has 
effected a treaty between them, assigning to each their pro- 
per and respective shares, and framing its political consti- 
tution on the constitution of human nature, has reared an 
edifice of mixed and irregular architecture, equally distant 
from the Grecian and the Gothick, — with little beauty and 
outward graces, — but solid, convenient, and easy to repair. 

*^As to the nation itself, its distinctive and national charac* 
ter, it would be difficult to give any but a comparative 
opinion. No national character is, I fear, very excellent in 
itself, and the least bad must be deemed good. Amongst 
the nations of Europe, the two most conspicuous in civili* 
zation, in arts and in arms, the nearest probably in their 
taste and manners, yet so distant — capable of understand- 
ing one another so well — ^yet so different in their.respective 
tempers and turn of mind, present themselves naturally as 
fit objects of comparison. I know them well, I think ; and 
feel an equal interest for both. I once called one of the 
two countries my own, and spent in it my early youth. I 



little more poverty in the multitude, and property will fa'I an easy 
prey by such means as income-tax, assessed arbitrarily by commission- 
ers in support of any popular measures, — by the establishiDeni of a 
national paper money, by a maximum perhaps. The insecurity of 
property will then operate, as it has done elsewhere, in Turkey, in 
Persia for instance, and in a less degree, in those parts of Jr.urope, 
where the govornmeni could raise arbitrary taxes on industry, and 
where the administrat ion of justice was dependent. The insecurity of 
property is invariably followed by relaxation of industry and improve- 
ments, ignorance and rudeness ; and finally, the establishment of a sim- 
ple arbitrary govern luent. It is no new observation, that every revo- 
lution contains the seeds of another, most opposite in its nature, and 
scatters them behind it. We have to see, what is to sprioj; up ii( 
America from a purely popular revolution. 



me.] Travels in England. 3» 

have visited the other in my maturer age, and the best 
friends I have on earth were born there. 

"The pretensions of the two parties are certainly compre- 
hensive. The English, for instance, lay claim to a certain 
superiority of moral rectitude, of sincerity, of generosity, of 
humanity, of judgment, of firmness and courage ; they con- 
aider themselves the grown men of Europe, and their 
neighbours as sprightly children, and that is the character 
they give them when in their best humour,— 4br otherwise^ 
they might be disponed to take Voltaire at his word, who 
said they were moitU singes et moitii iigres. 

" The French, on the other hand, admit of no comparison, 
as to nicety of taste, versatility of genius, and perfection in 
all the arts of civilization. In high honour, in generosity, 
in courage, they yield to none. 

" The lower people in England hold other nations in tho- 
rough contempt. The same rank in France, in the interi- 
our of the country at least, scarcely know there are other 
nations ; — their geography is that of the Chinese. 

" Of all the various- methods claimed by the proud Island- 
ers, I believe none is less disputed than that of generosity. 
It is not only a received thing that an Englishman has always 
plenty of money and gives it away freely, but no sacrifice 
of a higher kind is supposed to be above his magnanimity. 
I have to remark, on this subject, that those who give ti 
little after promising much, appear to have given nothing, 
while those who without promising any thing, give a kittle, 
have credit on the contrary for giving a great deal. This 
accounts in part, for the two opposite reputations, the one 
for unmeaning politeness and mere shew of sentiment, the 
other for simple and blunt generosity. The fact is, as to 
giving substantially, that it is much easier for the English to 
do so than the French, and accordingly much more is given 
in money by the former than by the latter ; but I doubt ex- 
tremely, whether the English are more disposed than their 
neighbours, to bestow their time and personal attention upon 
their friends in sickness or misfortune, and upon the dis- 
tressed in general. There is in England a sort of fastidious 
delicacy, coldness, or pride, which stands a good deal in tho 
way of active benevolence. The ties of blood are also, I 
think, weaker than in France. People seem to calculate 
with more strictness how far the claim of kindred extends, 
and 9ven the highest degrees of consanguinity, that of par- 



;i6a Travels in England. [Marcl^ 

ents and children, seema to couimand rather less deference 
and respect. A cousin may certainly not be more to you 
than another man, yet it is an ainiuble errour and a useful 
one, to think yourself oblig^ed to shew some kindness, and 
feel some particular sympathy for the man, whom nature 
has placed nearly in the same rank of life with yourself, and 
whom you are likely to meet ofteoest in your journey 
throu}s;h life. - 

" The English are better reasoners than the French, and 
th<;refore more disposed to be just, the first of moral quali- 
ties ; and yet the propensity to luxury and ostentation is so 
strong, as well as so general here, as to expose the same 
sense of justice to hard trials. I never knew a prodigal 
who was just, nor indeed truly generous — he never indeed 
has it in his power. 

I do K^ot conceive it possible, for some of the most horrible 
scenes of the French revolution to be acted here, in any 
event. The people in France are capable of greater atrch 
cities than those of England, but I should think the latter 
sterner, — less prone to cruelty, but less susceptible of pity. 

*' There are, perhaps, more distinguished men of science 
al Paris than in London, and 1 think it is admitted bj the 
English themselves. But there are certainly better scien- 
tifick materials here, and in the long run, accuracy and 
depth should prevail over quickness of parts. However the 
account may stand between the two nations, as to the higher 
sciences, [ am convinced that cultivation of mind is more 
general in England than in France : it is indeed the bright 
side of Engli}sh society. That conceited ignorance, for- 
ward loquacity, heedless and loud argumentation, which fills 
the common intercourse of men in France, is comparatively 
unknown here ; and with so much better reasoning facultiesi 
I do not think there are half so many logical attempts. A 
person of sense once remarked, that hw never heai*d the coa- 
cluding formula done introduced into a Parisian conver- 
sation, without expecting something excessively absurd 
to follow immediately. 

" There is undoubtedly in the English abord a coldness 
•and reserve, which discourage and repel at first sight ; is 
the French, on the contrary, a warmth and openness which 
invite confidence, and put you at ease instantly. The his- 
torian Gibbon said once, in speaking of French society, * I 
l^now that, generally, there is no depending much on their 



1810.] Travels in flngland. 361 

' professions^ yet as far as I was concerned, I reallj believe 
* they were sincere.* This exception the historian makes 
in bis own favour, may well excite a smile ; yet bis errour 
wa:j in the general opinion he bad formed, not in the indi- 
Tidual one. The kindness shewn to strangers, and expres- 
sions of interest lavished upon them, are really felt at the 
moment. These feelings nii^ht not last long, nor bear the 
test of any great sacrifice of interest or convenience. Tbosc 
who express them, are inconsiderate and frivolous, but not 
insincere. I do not know whether I might not choose to 
live with the English, but I should undoubtedly find more 
pleasure in visiting the French. The reserve and coldness 
of the former wear off in time: the warmth of the latter 
cools, and the two manners meet at last a la tiedeur^ which 
IB the common and usual degree of interest, and all you can 
really hope to inspire in general and mixt society. The 
advantage of superio'ur and more general cultivation, of a 
greater range of ideas, and purer taste, must, however, re- 
main on the side of the English. Taste ! I think I hear the 
French exclaim — what a contradiction, after what yourself 
have said of the grossness and rudeness of the English 
stage; the indecent abuse of their newspapers, their libels, 
and so many offensive habits and customs! Perfectly con- 
sistent characters, I might answer, are only to be met with 
in novels. Nature does not produce any ; and such a pic- 
ture might be drawn of departures from good taste in French 
manners, and in French literature, as might show the pro- 
priety of toleration to similar ones in foreign countries. 

" I have introduced occasionally into this journal, desultory 
remarks on several branches of English literature, as my at- 
tention was called to them by the occasion. A deeper ex- 
amination of the subject, would not have suited the plan of 
this work. lean only say for myself, that I prefer the En- 
glish literature to the French, upon most of those subjects 
with which I am acquainted. I am aware of the danger to 
which I expose myself by this rash declaration; and shall 
not deprecate the national resentment of my French rea- 
ders, by coiUjiJon-place confessions of my unfitness to judge. 
Many, inidoubtedly, have a more general knowledge than I 
have, of the literature not only of their own country, but of 
both countries. Few, however, of my countrymen choose 
to make any foreign language so far their own, as to be fair 
judges ; and on this last qualification ipostly, I venture to 
Vol. II. No. 6. 4« 



302 Currency of the Vniied States. [Marcl^ 

rest my rig;ht to form an opinion of mj owd, and to avow it 
My French readers being now informed, thai the English 
have du goUt, will hear with less surprize Iban they wonU 
otherwise have fell, that they have de la ga'H€. They da 
not certainly possess the gai6i^ of manners of their neigh- 
bours ; — they have not the happy faculty of being amused 
without amusement. I think, also, thai English spirita would 
not have survived the trials to which the French have beea 
exposed ; the latter have this buoyancy in their bloody the 
former in their mind only ; but mirth is by no means so 
foreign to English manners as is supposed in France* In* 
deed I do not know whether a laugh, a true, joyous laugh, it 
not as common in the one as in the other country ; and 
although there is inlinitely less animation, I doubt whether 
there is less cheerfulness. 

'* Upon the whole, 1 believe the national differences to have 
tess reality than appearance. The same virtues and tht 
same vices — the same propensities and views, under very 
different forms, are found in both countries, more nearly 
alike than is generally supposed.'' 



Plan of an' Improved System of the Money Concerns of 
the Union, By Erick Bollman^ iH. D. Philadelphia. 
William Fry y 1816. 

The subject of this pamphlet awakens our recollectioa 
of one of the great founders, of our national credit and 
prosperity. We recur to Hamilton's works for the broad 
and deep principles which support the general welfare, and 
for those luminous views where he shows us the sources of 
national wealth, and points out to us the path to honour and 
power. Fortunately for the United States,, an honourable 
ambition, and an ardent patriotisn}^ led him to devote his 
splendid and powerful faculties to his country, to say noth- 
ing of his services in the revolution and the establishmedt 
of our government, in which last, he probably did more 
than any other man : what would have been the state of 
our finances, had not the creating mind of Hamilton brought 
order out of the chaos in which he found them ? That it 
would have been sufficiently deplorable, may be bferred 



1816.] Currency of the United States^ 8dS 

from the crude idea, which all his political opponents, and 
some of his political iriends, threw out at that period. The 
party which now governs the United States, originated in 
an opposition to some of the salutarj measures of which 
Hamilton was <he projector, and among the most active 
supporters. There were at the adoption of the constitution 
some signs of the two parties^ into which we have since been 
divided, but these began to be organised, when the found- 
ing of the national debt was discussed* Thej assumed a 
more definite form when a proposition was made bj Hamil- 
ton, for a national bank. Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and 
their adherents, arrayed themselves against the measure* 
They drew their arguments from two sources ; first, they 
said banks are useless institutions ; secondly, the consti- 
tution of the United Slates, does not auttiorise Congress to 
grant a charter of incorporation, either for banking or any 
other purpose. The first objection, has been sufficiently 
obviated by the successful operation of the Bank ot the 
United States, during twenty years. What arguments 
have removed the second objection, we know not, but that 
it is removed, appears from the disposition, which those who 
urged it now manifest, to establish another bank. So far 
we are well pleased, and prefer that they should come over 
to the side of truth and experience, rather than persist in 
errour for the sake of consistency. But let them come a 
little further, and while they by degrees, adopt Hamilton's 
principles and suffer themselves to be guided by the light 
of his luminous mind, let them no longer ungenerously re- 
fuse to acknowledge his merits and services : they ought 
no longer to withhold such poor amends for the injustice 
and persecution, which he experienced from them during 
his life. He had, while he lived, the warmest devotion 
and attachment of those who knew him rightly, and is re* 
membered by them, with a regret that cannot be expressed ; 
but this is too little, he is entitled to the gratitude and ad^ 
miration of the universal American people. This wotild 
be a proper return for his services ; an adequate reward is 
out of the question. The man who shapes and frames to- 
gether, the rude materials of society, forms them into a 
system, and subjects them to the action of the springs and 
prindples which evolve prosperity and happiness ; may be 
thanked, he cannot be rewarded. 



364 ' Cwrrenty of the UnUed Stales. [Marcb, 

The pamphlet which gives occasion for this article, is no 
other, than a new project for a national bank. The author 
bad before published p.ira^iaphs on Banks, which appear- 
ed a short tiri^ previous to the dissolution of the Banks of 
the United Slates, and had a regard to that event. He lias 
also contributed two very re^ipectable articles to the Ame- 
rican Review— one «j)on the currency of Great Britain — 
the other on the better regulation of the currency of 
the United States. In each of these productions, raany 
important ideas are repeated from the modern treatises on 
political economy, and the author has, besides the merit 
of calling the publick attention to a subject, which, though 
of the highest importance, is very much neglected, and 
consjsquently very ill understood. He seems to have 
studied his subject very diligently ; there are however ma« 
ny marks of his attachment to theories of his own invention, 
and the reader does not follow him long, without suspecting 
him not to be a practical man. Instead of following Mr. 
Bollman through his work, we propose to take a partial 
view of his general subject, namely, a circulating medium. 

Ever since political economy was made a science by 
Adam Smith, the circulating medium has been considered 
as bearing two characters, that of money, and that of mer- 
chandize. Locke, and probably many others before him, 
had remarked, that money is a measure of value. We have 
Avoirdupois, Troy weights, &c. to estimate the quantity of 
substances — we have inches, feet, miles, &c. to measure 
distances — and degrees, minutes and fractions, to measure 
parts of circles ; in the same manner we have dollars, cents 
and mills, and pounds, shillings and pence, to measure the 
value of things, that is their efficacy in preventing and re- 
moving pain — or procuring and prolonging pleasure. A dis- 
tinction was formerly made between real and fictitious va- 
lue. This dis(inc(ion, may be important to individuals, but 
as a maxim in economical science, it seems to be imaginary 
and useless. If a m;in purposes to expend a dollar in ne- 
cessaries, you may hold an argument to persuade him to 
purchase thirty pounds of wheat, riather than ten pounds of 
beef; and if bis object be to buy what will give him the 
longest subsistence, you have to prove that the wheat will af- 
ford more nutrition than the beef. This must evidently be 
a matter of experiment, but the investigation is never made, 
except for the purpose pf determining on the cheapest 



19-16.] Currency of the United Stated. 365 

• 
mode of supplying s^ubsistence to the poor, or poinfing out 
io the most needy of those who live independently, hour 
they may avoid a degradation into that class. If luxuries 
be the object, it depends on the individual whether it be ad- 
visable for him to procure a ticket of admission to a musical 
entertainment, or to an exhibition of paintings. It is alto- 
gether an affair of taste, to reason about it would be absurd, 
since each one must decide for himself of what gratification 
he is capable through the medium of his eyes or his ears. 
Most of the articles of consumption, and use have the two 
characters of necessaries and luxuries — as necessaries, they 
have the power to sustain existence, and save from absolute 
suffering — as luxuries, their value consists in their effect of 
gratifying taste or causing pleasure. Hence the fact which 
every one has so often repeated and heard, that what is 
among necessaries to one man, makes part of the luxuries of 
another, and one whose wealth enables him to command all 
the external means of gratification, may become so accus- 
tomed to them, as to find them necessary, and may conti- 
nue to use them, not because they produce any pleasurable 
sensations, but because the disuse would occasion suffering. 
All the refinements which ingenuity can devise for affecting 
the senses, are not so valuable to him, as a hoecake to a 
southern slave. This law of our constitution, is one of the 
most powerful agents in equalizing the conditions of men. 

Convenience and taste are in a high degree artificial — a 
North- American Indian has a taste for intoxication, a Pa- 
risian for the theatre, and an inhabitant of Connecticut for 
awakenings. The value then which is conferred by taste 
on any substance, is mostly arbitrary. Both these views of 
the materials of living are important — the first has occupied 
the attention of Count Rumford, and others who have in- 
quired into the means of supporting existence and rendering 
it comfortable, at the least possible expense — the latter, as 
far as our information extends, is an unappropriated and al- 
most untouched subject ; it involves the investigation of the 
comparative influence of the different kinds of tastes, and 
their objects in promoting the welfare of society. An able 
work upon this subject, would, we think, make an epoch in 
the history of economical science. 

Publick taste or custom has an arbitrary control of value. 
A piece of broadcloth made up into a coat, according to 
the present fashion, may be worth fifty dollars ; the same 



360 CfHrrmcff ef the United States. [Maitlv 

piece made up in an antiquated mode, would not be worth 
perhaps fifteen, though it would make the wearer equally 
comfortable. Custom and the general taste, being among 
the most mutable of things, — though the value which com- 
modities derive from them be in some sense fictitious, — af- 
ford no grounds for a division into those, the value of which 
is arbitrarily assigned by fashion, and those which derive 
their worth from other causes. Writers on political eco- 
nomy accordingly, have abandoned the old distinction of 
real and fictitious value, and agree in considering the mar- 
ket price of an article, its ^alue ; and to know how much 
any thing is worth, we simply inquire for what it may be 
exchanged. Consequently the value of coin and bank-notes, 
is no more fictitious than that of bread. 

We easily discriminate between the property in any 
thing and the subject of such property ; in other words, we 
do not confound the title which the owner has to land, with 
the land itself. There is an infinite variety of titles and 
claims to possession and use of those things, which are de* 
sirable or useful, so that almost every object, in the fair and 
abundant creation, in the midst of which we live, is appo^ 
tioned out in property to various possessors, by laws and 
the operations of civil society. To prevent altercation and 
confusion, there must be some means of clearly distinguish- 
ing what belongs to each ; every individual who claims to 
own any thing, or have any right to use or derive advantage 
from it, must exhibit some evidence of this right. A deed, 
properly executed, is evidence of property in lands ; — a 
will, made with the requisite formalities, is evidence of a 
right to a legacy ; — a contract legally authenticated, is the 
evidence which each of the parties has, to enforce his 
claims against the other. A bank-note is of this descrip- 
tion, it contains the terms of a stipi'.lation between two par* 
ties, and being transferable at pleasure, is like any other 
negociable instrument, li is a proof, that the possessor has 
a claim for a specified portion of pro| erty, which is in the 
hands of those who issued the' note. In this it has affinitj 
to all other oral or written evidence of property. We do 
not consider deeds, bilU of exchans^e, checks, &c. as me^ 
chandise, nor do v;e bank-notes. But silver and gold are 
as strictly commercial commodities, as iron, or flour. Bank- 
notes and coin have one common function ; they are both 
money or measures of the value of marketable cpiximoditiCl<^* 




Cttrrenctf of the United Slates. 



■acli of them has another oharacter, in which fhej 
Ipecie is aiaoiig Ihe great mass of arlicleg of IraJe and 
manufacture; bank-noles are Ihe records and proofs of coll^ 
tracts. Unless these different functions are kept in view, 
tfaere is danger of vagueness and obscurity in speculations 
upon this snhject. 

An ingot of gold is doubtless an object of no little cou> 
cero (o (he owner, but is of comparatively small importaoce 
to the puhlick ; whatever be the magnitude of a private con- 
tract in regard lo the parties interested, it is a trifling mailer, 
considered in relation to Ihe general interests of Ihe cora- 
mimity. The metal may be left to Ihe rules of trade, and 
the contract to (lie laws reguialing the forms and execution 
of agreements. But when Ihe gold is coined, and the con- 
tract made assignable by transfer, both become intimate- 
ly connected with the general welfare, and are accoid- 
iDgly made the subjects of dictinct legislation. Thepublick 
iolerest and convenience require, 'hat Ihe guvermient 
should establish uniform weights and measures, of length and 
bulk. For Ihe same reason, the measure of value should be 
partictdarly settled by the laws. The author of a leiler 
to Mr. Bariog, remarks, that prosperity depends no less on 
flecurily of calculation, than on that of liberty and proper- 
ty;* and calculation can be secure only where the laws 
ftad the currency are uniform. And what better way is 
there of making a currency uniform, than that by which a 
weight or measure of solid contents is made so — by a 
bushel, M meant a capacity of certain depth and diameter — 
the French unit of weight, is a glass cube of given dimen- 
irions — our laws in a similar manner, make gold and silver Ihe 
Standard of admeasurement or estimation of value. As by 
bushel, we mean a given number of square inches; »o bj; 
dollar in value, we mean so much of any tbJng as may be 
exchanged in the market, for aliUle over three hundred and 
seventy-five grains of silver. Nothing can be more inteltivi- 
ble, nothing more uniform ; in fact it is as perfect, as Ihe 
nature of things permits. The universal suffrage of man- 
kind, is in favour of gold and silver, as measures of value ; 
and one would hardly expect to hear the substitution of a 
new standard proposed. Yet Sir. Bollman thinks il not 
mly possible, but advisable to make a change. Many 

" Ameritan Rerieir, Vol. IT. p. 255, 



differ. S 

le and ^1 

I 



1 



868 Currency of the United States. Marcb, 

others are inclined to embrace the same opinion, in which 
ihey fortify themselves by the example of the Bank of 
England. We are glad to find Mr. Dallas thinking other- 
wise; he remarks in his report, that, though Great Britain 
has succeeded in maintaining the credit of a paper curren- 
cy not exchangeable for specie, yet a difference of circuoh 
stances may render it impossible for ua to iniitaie their 
example. This diversity of circumstances, is obvious to 
the most superficial observer. A member of parliament 
says, in a letter to Mr. M'Arthur, *' England is a great 
company of insurance ; the whole insures the parts or 
individuals, and the individuals are the security for the 
whole. *'^ That nation showed a practical conviction of 
this truth in )7u7, when the bank ceased to pay in specie. 
The government was involved with the bank, and the people 
with the government — all must sink or swim together. 
While the bank-notes were below par, the bank had been 
paying away, and receiving again, the same gold and silver 
at a great loss. It was obliged to give 4/. sterling for an ounce 
of gold bullion ; this the government coined for it free of ex- 
pense ; but when it was coined, it was worth to the bank but 
3/. 1*25. 10 1-2 J. sterling, and it could purchase its own notes 
with the coin only to that amount. This gave speculators as 
opportunity of carrying on a clever sort of trade with the 
bank. They collected bank-notes, presented them for 
payment, took cash for them at par, and then having melt- 
ed the coin down, they sold to the bank again for notes at a 
profit of more than two shillings the ounce. Thus the metal 
was kept in circulation from the vaults of the bank to their 
crucibles, and then to the mint; and tor each revolution, the 
bank paid at the rale of more than a guinea upon a pound in 
l^^ei^ht. An invasion was apprehended, and some creditors 
of the bank, thinking that their money would be safest 1n 
their own keeping, drew specie from the vaults to hoard. 
Exchani^e with the continent, being at the same time against 
England, caused an exportation of the precious metals. In- 
deed the ruin with which Bonaparte had threatened Eng- 
land, seemed to be rapidly ajiprouching through the mediiini 
of her commercial and financial systenib. The situation 
justiiicd desperate expedients. The government interposed 
between the bank and its creditors, and by thus absolving 

* M' Arthur's Financial Facts. 



1816.] Curren cy of the United States. 369 

that establishment from its contracts, or at least suspending 
the execution of them, it saved the nation. But this could 
not have been done without the support ofpublick opinion ; 
all intelligent men knowing that the government was implica- 
ted with the bank, and that thej themselves were ina^cated 
with both, not only approved the measure, but ento^yS into 
associations in London, and all the principal towns, to con- 
tinue to receive the notes of the bank at their accustomed 
value. When we become so implicated with our govern- 
ment, and when a similar crisis occurs, it will be early 
enough to adopt Mr. Bollman's project of a paper standard, 
or what would.be more simple, though the same in princi- 
ple, the government may make paper money of its own, as 
it did during the revolution. 

The theorists make too great a parade with this measure 
of the British government. We admit that it establishes 
a new fact in political economy ; it was before thought im- 
possible, that a nation could carry on extensive operations 
of war, commence and finish without the use of the pre- 
cious metals, and still preserve its credit, and not materially 
depreciate its currency. But we are to keep in mind the 
remarkable combination of circumstances, such as had 
never occurred before, and perhaps will not again in the his* 
tory of the world. It must not be forgotten also, that the 
measure was supported by the expectation, that the notes 
of the bank will finally be redeemed according to the pro- 
mise of which they are the evidence. 

We think that our readers will not hesitate to conclude 
with us, that gold and silver are the best standards of va- 
lue.^ But a standard is good for nothing unless it be used. 
Unless you apply the measure, you might as well be with- 
out it. And what other way is there of measuring value, 
except that of exchange ? There is no mode of making a 
commodity worth a given weight of gold, but by making it 
exchangeable for that weight. The propositions are in fact 
identical. 

But, says Mr. Bollman and others, who wish to substitute 
a paper-mill for the Mexican mines, and Perkins's plates for 

'f Platina might be added, and if coined and put into circulatioDv 
bearing the same value in comparison with gold and silver that it now 
does, it would be very convenient to the banks, since the East India 
jmerchants would not be continually drawing it from their yaults for 
exportation. 

Vel. II. No. 6. 47 



370 Currency of the United States. [Marcb, 

the mint, it is impossible to restore a metalick currency, on 
account of the scarcity of specie. Let the banks send 
abroad and procure it. But this will require some time. 
And what then — have not the banks been taking time these 
four years, and do they now think of making use of this 
fraudulent pretext to absolve themselves from their contracts? 
It may he asked, what they shall send to exchange for spe- 
cie ? Doubtless there are merchants willing to im[)ort gold 
and silver for them, and take in exchange the notes of their 
debtors. But the banks would lose by the exchange. In- 
tolerable ! it would to be sure be matter of unspeakable re- 
gret, if those corporations, w^iich have for a ^ong time been 
making promises, which they knew they could not fulfil, and 
by this deception have divided twelve, fifteen and twenty per 
cent, annually upon their capital, should be called upon to 
make any sacrifice. What, it may be inquired, can the 
government do in this case ? It may do as much towards 
making the banks pay specie, as it has done towards 
enabling them to carry on this profitable traffick in their 
notes. It has given them currency by receiving them for 
taxes and loans, and paying them to its creditors ; and by 
refusing to receive them, it may soon stop their circula- 
tion. A reasonable time ought to be assigned, at which the 
government will receive the notes of no bank which does 
not pay specie. At least, some arrangement should be made 
which might prevent the port of Boston paying five, ten 
and fifteen per cent, on importations, more than is paid at 
the southern ports. 

Mr. Bollman estimates the amount of the circulating me- 
dium in the United States, at one hundred and fifty millions 
of dollars ; and says, that to resume specie payments, fifty 
millions of specie will be necessary. We do not knov 
what are the grounds of this opinion ; but he states a fact 
which does not much corroborate it. The bank of the 
United States, he says, at the commencement of its opera- 
tion, issued notes to nine times the amount of its specie. 
There was in June, 1815, in the banks of Massachusetts, 
specie to the amount of 7,400,000 dollars. The deposits 
and specie in the hands of individuals, were at a low estima- 
tion 2,600,000. Suppose there were in the other states of 
New-England half that sum. Allowing that the quantity 
in all the other States is equal to that in New-Englaod, 
there is in the United S'ates, specie to the amount of 
30,000,000 of dollars. This is one fifth of the circulating 



1816.] Currency of the United States. 37 1 

medium required by the exigencies of the country. A 
small addition to these resources, and proper management, 
would restore the currency. It is true, that the charters of 
the banks in Massachusetts contain an excellent provision, 
that they shall not owe debts to more than twice the value 
of the specie in their vaults. But then banking companies 
may be incorporated, that may subscribe stock as well as 
money, in imitation of the plan proposed by Hamilton, and 
adopted by Congress in 4791, and which Mr. Dallas pro- 
poses again in his report. 

It is impossible to say what amount of notes may be issu- 
ed on a given quantity of specie, since it depends on the ad- 
vantages which the exportation of specie offers, on the skill 
and integrity of the banking company, and its hold on the 
publick confidence. 

Application has been made to Congress, to assist the 
banks in resuming specie payments, by prohibiting the ex- 
portation of the precious metals. Would it not be better 
to impose a small duty on the exportation, as it would not 
80 much abridge the liberty, which is the life o^trade, and 
might be less likely to prevent the importation? 

We do not agree with Mr. Bollman, that bank-notes should 
be a tender, nor do we subscribe to his opinion, that there 
should be but one bank in the United States. It is need- 
less to discuss the latter opinion, for th^ re is no probability 
of the abolishment of the state banks. We know not why 
the Constitution should have left, in the individual states, the 
power of constituting corporations for banking, while it took 
from them that of coining money, unless it was supposed, 
that the prohibition of making any thing'a tender in payment 
of debts, except gold and silver, would prevent any abuse of 
that power. From the manner in which Mr. Dallas expres- 
ses himself, in his last report, we suspect, that he supposes 
the government of the United States to possess the power 
of making what it pleases, a tender. We pass this topick 
by also, under the impression, that whatever may be thought 
of the power of Congress in this respect, no one will deem 
it advisable at present to transgress the limits presciibed to 
the individual states. 

Some regret that the number of our banks is so great. 
There are more than five hundred private banks in England, 
which is a good authority for the pretty liberal multiplica- 
tion of such institutions. Adam Smith is of opinion, that 



372 Currency of the United States. [Marcb, 

every considerable town should have a bank. The busi- 
ness is on this account less profitable, but this argument may 
be urged in favour of any monopoly. When bank-notes be- 
come the general currency, and half or more of the gold and 
silver ^as been exported, it is said, that the banks, if called 
upon, could not fulfil their engagements. This would no 
doubt be true, if yon could persuade all the holders of notes 
to demand an immediate payment. But the diflSiculty is, to 
form a general combination for this purpose ; to prevent 
which, and render it ineffectual, is one branch of the art of 
banking ; and if a corporation conducts its business prudently 
and skilfully, it will always be as able to fulfil its engage- 
ments, as any other trading company. Besides the specif 
in the vaults, or the capital paid in by the stockholders, 
bank always has discounted paper, equal to the amount < 
its notes in circulation. It chooses its securities and the 
time of payment. One cannot conceive, that an institution 
of this kind should become insolvent, except by folly or 
knavery. Every merchant of extensive connexions, general- 
ly owes more than he could pay with the money he keeps mi 
hand, but these debts are due at different times, and he makes 
arrangements to meet them, by collecting debts due to him- 
self ; of these debts, some are probably contracted before 
hand, others he creates by making new sales. The situa- 
tion of the bank then is similar to that of the merchant, except 
that the bank trades only in contracts and specie, the mer- 
chant trades in these and numerous other things : the mer- 
chant knows when he shall be called upon to make payment, 
the bank is trusted indefinitely, and is constantly liable to 
demand. The bank must calculate on the probability of 
any demands being made, and what their extent may be. 
The ability of each depends upon that of the debtors to 
each. When affairs go on in a regular course, a bank may 
calculate pretty safely on the time and amount of the de- 
mands to which it may be subject. At least it may safely 
assign limits, which they cannot well exceed. It must con- 
sequently proportion its issues to the result of this calcula- 
tion. Besides the small demand for specie, created by the 
domestick expenditure of the customers of a bank, we think of 
only four causes which can operate to return its notes upon 
it. Rival banks frequently run upon each other, till each 
finds it a loss of trouble and expense, and is convinced of the 
other's resources being sufficient-— notes are brought in whea 



1816.] Currency of the United States. 373 

the holder wishes to make payments or purchases where 
they are not current — the same happens when the credit of 
the bank is shaken, or a political revolution is apprehended. 
Some probable calculation may be made in regard to the 
rivalship of other similar institutiont^, and their means of col- 
lecting and returning to a bank its notes. A comparison of 
the extent within which the notes of a bank circulate, with 
the extent and character of the comoiercial relations of the 
town in which the bank is situated, afford some data for 
calculating on the demand for specie created by the necessi- 
ty of making foreign payments. Here the balance of trade 
is to be taken into consideration, that is, whether all the ar- 
ticles exported from a place are sold' to the exporters for a 
' greater or less aggregate amount, than all the imported ar- 
ticles are purchased. For example, suppose a foreign fleet 
should visit Boston in the autumn, and there should be a 
sale made of every thing exported from the town during the 
year, and each seller should receive from the agents of the 
fleet, the price of whatever he may have sold in specie : 
business then ceases till the next spring, when the fleet re- 
turns with foreign articles to supply the town for the ensu- 
ing year. Those who were vendors in autumn now become 
purchasers. If the aggregate amount of the purchases ex- 
ceed that of the sales, the balance of trade is against us, pro- 
vided we have the means of subsistence within ourselves, 
and have no trafick whatever, by which property is carried 
out of the town and brought into it. It is evident, that this 
cannot be often repeated ; our money will soon be exhausted. 
But if the fleet belong to our own citizens, the case is very 
different. We build and rig their ships, and supply them 
with provisions, for all which they pay us in the autumn, 
in addition to the price of the articles exported. The mer- 
chants will charge the expenses of the Outfits and ttiose of 
the voyage upon the cargoes. We may, then, buy in the 
spring of the important articles, to a greater amount than that 
for which we sold the articles of exportation, without, on the 
whole, sustaining any loss ; we may have part of the money 
remaining on hand. Thus, though the balance of trade, ac- 
cording to the common mode of estimating it, is against us, 
we may be flourishing and growing rich. But if the amount 
of our sales in a foreign market, did not exceed that of our 
purchases of imported articles in our own, o^r losses would 
fK)on deprive us of the means of trading. Wt hen,ce see the 



374 Currtncy of the United States. [Marclii 

cause of those perplexities and errours, into which specula- 
tors have been led by calculations concerning the balance 
of trade. Had the embarrassment been confined to writers^ 
it would have been well, but governments have sometimes 
acted upon erroneous inductions, derived from the same 
source, and in attempting to regulate trade in such a manner 
that the balance should be adjusted to their own wishes, 
they have restrained and discouraged it. If in the case 
supposed, the balance should continue to be in favour of 
Boston, specie would accumulate, and unless it were 
wrought up in some manufacture, requiring a constant sup- 

Sly, as in China, some outlet would be sought'for the super- 
uous specie ; we should send away to procure those new 
conveniences or luxuries which should happen first to 
ofier, this course of trade would cause a quantity of specie 
to pass annually through the channels of trade in the town* 
It would naturally be lodged in the vaults of the bank in its 
passage. This was actually the case in the former regular 
course of business. We sold goods to the southern states 
to a greater amount than those we purchased of them ; and 
waggon-loads of specie were transported from New-York 
and Philadelphia to Boston. We did not procure furs and 
skins in sufficient quantities, to purchase all the goods im- 
ported from China. The balance between us and the 
southern states, went to cancel the balance against us in the 
East-India trade. When there is a current of specie 
through a commercial place, it is much more easy to 
keep the banks replenished, than when it rests in a stag- 
nant deposit. In the latter case, as the banks of the shire 
towns in the interiour experience, it is difficult to supply 
any casual diminutions of specie, just as a cistern will be 
kept more uniformly full, if a stream be running into it and 
out of it at the same time, than if the waste of evaporation 
and discharge be supplied by buckets. The alarm then,whicii 
has prevailed, lest the East-India trade should drain away 
all the specie of the commercial world, is groundless; it is as 
much as .if we should fear that we should have no cotton for 
our manufactories, because, part of what is brought from the 
south, is shipped to Liverpool. The transmit will afTord a 
more sure supply for our domestick manufacturers generally; 
though the foreign demand might at times be so great, as to 
cause the re-shipments to be too extensive, before the dimi- 
nished quantity would raise the price in our own market. 



1816.] Currency of the United States. SI 5 

Ju»t so in regard to specie, some extraordinarj cause for 
exportation, may, at certain times, drain it away, and pro- 
duce a scarcity ; or the sources whence we obtain it, 
may sometimes be less copious, and produce the same eP* 
feet : but if trade and industry flourish, the deficiency will 
be temporary, and those who are suffering by it, will soon 
supply it. But this does not always take place, soon 
enough to prevent some general embarrassment. It requires 
some time to change settled habits. We must not only 
know a change to be necessary, we must also feel it. A 
man who has been accustomed to the indulgences of afflu- 
ence, does not contract his expenses within the limits of 
his income, immediately on his circi^mstances being re- 
duced ; he generally continues them till he finds his bills 
troublesome. The commercial habits of a nation have a 
similar operation. If in the ordinary course of business, 
a considerable quantity of specie has been transmitted 
tfaiough a trading town, and by a change of circumstances, 
the introduction of it ceases, still those who have been in the 
habit of carrying it away, will continue the practice till none 
can be obtained. The consequence is a general embar- 
rassment for want of specie. We have been describing the 
situation of Great Britain, and also that of the United States* 
The evil does not appear in its natural form in either coun- 
try. We have spoken of the situation and necessities of 
Great Britain. In the United States, our southern brethren, 
instead of allowing the cistern 1o be drained till the efflux 
should have ceased by the diminution of the quantity, 
raised the bottom, and thus gave the vessel the appearance 
of being full. The situation of the country required it, they 
say, and the war could not otherwise have been carried on. 
For ourselves, we do not believe this, but it is unnecessary 
to attempt to refute it, since allowing it to be true, it is no 
justification of the banks. It is absurd to suppose, that the 
directors of each of the hundred banks, which refused to 
receive their notes, according to- their agreements pre- 
viously to this measure, held a deliberation on the state of the 
nation, and concluded, that the publick exigencies required 
of them to violate their engagements, and unless they should 
substitute their own paper for the legal coin, the government 
could no longer go on. In thus interfering by an assumed 
legislative power, and regulating the circulating medium, 
these corporations arrogated one of the most important func- 



376 Currency of the Uniled States. [March, 

tions of the legislature. We believe that the situation of 
the nation would have been much better at ali times, and 
more especially at the present, had the southern banks 
adopted the conduct of the eastern, and confined themselves 
to (he exercise of the powers given bj their charters. 
When the quantity of specie began to be diminished, and 
the state of the country produced a general distrust of each 
other among commercial men, the eastern banks contracted 
their business within narrower limits ; and thus saved their 
credit, and enabled merchants to judge more accurately of 
each other's circumstances, and act with greater safety, 
while the southern banks increased their issues, and by thus 
overtrading, for the sake of a temporary gain, an artificial, 
inflated state of things was produced ; from which just di- 
mensions and proportions disappeared, and accuracy of 
calculation was impossible. Conjecture took its place, and 
speculation was substituted for the regular process of bu- 
siness. 

It is unnecessary to consider all the circumstances which 
may affect the credit of a bank ; its reputation, like that of 
a mercantile house, will generally depend upon the punctu- 
ality of its payments, and this again on the skilful manage- 
ment of its affairs. 

The apprehension of a revolution is a conjuncture ex- 
empted from all calculation. 

Competitions in the demands of specie for the adjust- 
ment of balances of trade, and the circumstances which 
may effect the credit of a bank, are objects of attention 
to directors ; a knowledge of which, constitutes part of 
their science : but the address and perspicacity, acquired 
by experience, are much more important. The ocean of 
affairs is liable to storms and agitations ; besides, the charts 
and tables of science, the navigator must learn to descry, 
with an almost instinctive sagacity, the signs of change and 
omens of danger. 

The agents of the corporation, upon taking a view of 
circumstances which have been mentioned, calculate how 
many of its notes can possibly be returned upon them. If 
they have a reasonable degree of skill in their business, 
they can make such arrangements, that the probability of 
their being able to meet all the demands that can 1)6 made 
upon them, will almost amount to a certaiifty. The idea 
then, that banks can pay specie according to their contracts, 



1'8]6.] Currency of the United States. SIT 

is not fictitious or illusory, nor is there any thing mysterious 
in their operation, by which they are distinguished frooi 
other commercial transactions. 

The use of the pubiick debt, as part of the stock of a 
bank, is attended with some inconveniences, and some ad- 
vantages. The credit of a bank founded on this species of 
capital, is liable to vary with that of the pubiick. Next to 
specie, the best capital for a bank, is that which is most 
saleable, afid least liable to depression of price. A real pro- 
perty in a flourishing town, would be preferable to any other, 
but not so good as the securities of substantial men, or 
tboae of the pubiick, since these are more easily converted 
into^cash. A pubiick debt may be useful by gfVing credit 
to paper, and thus increasing the circulating capital, but 
this does not prove a pubiick debt to be on the whole advan- 
tageous, for a government might as well borrow money for 
this purpose, as to riin in debt for other purposes, and use 
the stock for this. Suppose the government of the United 
States to have owed nothing in 1790, and^ the people to 
have been exhausted by the war, and unable, to recover 
themselves, for want of a sufficient circulating medium, to 
give facility to business, and restorecommercial confidence. 
Suppose that individuals had not been able or disposed to 
form a bank. The government %ould have promoted the 
prosperity of the country just as much, by borrowing 
seven million five hundred thousand dollars of Holland, and 
depositing it in the bank of the United States, as it did by 
authorising the bank by its charter, to receive subscriptions 
of pubiick stock to that amoniit* The pubiick would the^ 
have shared in the dividends, which would more than have 
cancelled the interest. It was in the way we have men- 
tioned ; namely, by increasing the circulating property, that 
Hamilton said a pubiick debt might be a pubiick blessing ! 
He never said, that the mere fact of being in debt was more 
desirable to a government, than to an individual. The prin- 
cipal advantage, which the advocates of national debts at- 
tribute to them, is the support which a government derives 
from its creditors. But it pays dear, and it would be 
much better economy to hire supporters when it needs 
them, than to keep a host of idle auxiliaries in constant pay. 

We test the character of an administration of govern- 
ment, by its influence upon industry — the manners are best 
which animate the mind, and put in action the muscle of 

Vol. II. No. 6. 48 






ttii The Ichneumon. \Wt»eh^ 

tbe nation. Before the adoption of the conBtitution, and the 
introduction^ of sjatem into our commerce and revenues^ 
the unwieldj strength of our people, was giddiij flounder* 
ing among the crude elements of national power and wealth, 
without method and without effect. The introduction rf 
order and security, produced what seemed to be a preternar 
tural change. Yet, nothing more Vas done than to liberate 
and disencumber the energies of the people. The most 
perfect laws can but give to everj kind of laudable indus- 
try, its natural reward — the fruits of its labour. )t is by at- 
tempting something more, that governments most frequently 
abuse their power ; instead of giving talents and industry 
place, theyStreighten and encumber them. 



7%e Ichneumonj being an Essay on Politics. Written in 
the District of Maine^ J'uly^ 1814. By Don Quixote. 
They hate him that rebuketh in the gate^ and they abhor 
him that speaketh uprightly. AinoS 5th. lOth. 

This pamphlet is a curiosity. The author of this political 
tchrieumon, which was to destroy the crocodile eggs of De- 
mocracy, has detailed his plan with such bold frankness, and 
inimitable simplicity, as must excite the wonder of polirical 
cowardice, and the smile of political experience. A work 
of this kind has long been a desideratum ; we have heard so 
much from those egregious oracles, the exclusive friends of 
the people, about monarchial designs, and deep laid plots for 
introducing royalty, nobility, &c. — that being wholly oppos- 
ed to any such change, and utterly incredulous about its 
possibility, we were gratified to find, the scheme in a tangi- 
ble form at last ; we have, it is true, heard one or two old men, 
tired of the vanities of life, and prevented by the apathy of 
age from strenuous exertions, naturally wishing for nothing 
but tranquility, flatter themselves it would be found undera 
king — and one or two young men, who without energy to 
obtain distinction among their equals, " holding between 
their fingers a pouncet box," would discourse most learnedly 
on the effects of monarchy, whose operation they had never 
witnessed ; and on the dangers of Kepublicks, which they 
had never felt — but, we never heard any middle aged person, 
vi^ho could read and write, wish to subvert our own instita^ 



klff.^ Thelehnmmon. 379 

Ibns, or believe (hat we could endure [Lose of royally. We 



u Die c 



Be 



eseni itislance, lell a aort ot prying, ( 
riosily lo gel al (be secret hiaiory of Ihis author, expecting 
to 6iitl BOroe insiitious, invetei'ate aristocrat, with a ward- 
robe of tarnished Court-ilresses, with alara and ribands rea- 
dy for display, and perhaps daggsra, and " Foreign Gold" — 
we wese, however, disappointed, and our feelings were great- 
ly relieved, when we were (old ihal this dangerous writer, 
was a humble, and rather visionary character, residing in a 
remote village ; and that he distribuled his pamphlet on 
the way lo Ihie uietro|)oli3 in a one-horee sleigh, mounted on 
Backs of wool fiom his own fluck, the proceeds of which 
were to furnish Ihe necessaries fur his family. 

Having comtnuniculed Ihis account of the author, to pre- 
sent in that manly, pure, independent class of men, the lead- 
's of Ihe self named Republicans, a useless solicilude for the 
Tety of their fluck, a tienlle Bock, whose fleece rewards the 
'la of its shepherds ; we shall now proceed to develope 
views of Don Quiifole, by eslracls from his work. It 
will be recollected Ihat it was written during the late war, 
and in a district particularly exposed to its pressure ; some 
of his reasonings therefore, are afTected by temporary con- 
Kiderations, bul the intrinsic beauly and feasibility of (he 
plan are permanent. We begin with hie firsi chapter. 

"CflAPTBR I. It would be a very diverting book, could 
ve meet with one, canlaining many unlearned men's opinioni 
concerning Ihe best mode of government. I presume we 
should flod greater varieties than even Montesquieu wai ac- 
qnainted wilh. 

" The christian powers of Europe have for several centu- 
ries past been divided into Monarchies and Republicka. In 
Switzerland, which was a Repnblick, Democracy is said to 
bave prevailed more tljan in Holland and Venice, which 
have likewise been called Republicks, but in both these, 
Aristocracy is said to have prevailed. In France, Spain and 
Parltigal, Ihe goiernments have been called Monarchical. 
Id England, the government has been called a Limited Mo- 
narchy. These, wilh some other inconsiderable variations, 
have prevailed all over Chrislendoin. — About forty years 
ago, in Ihis country, a decided naajorily of the people, gave 
Ihe preference lo a Republican form or government, and we 
then shook off, after a seven years war, our colonial depen- 
dence on Great Briiain. Wmee which, having few rich 



I 



1 



380 The tchneunum^ [Marcb, 

among us, our goTernment has continued to be aufficientlj 
Democraticai. 

** But a misfortune which has attended our democraticai 
poverty, the emoluments tor office have been sought after 
with such avidity, that the seekers of office have not failed 
to revile their rivals upon every occasion, with the most 
unchristian, uncharitable, and ungentlemanly language. The 
consequence is, that now the two parties, which are called 
Federal and Republican, have but a very poor opinion of 
the virtues of each other. 

^^ Whenever the Federalists have the success to prevail in 
their elections, the Republicans are sure to oppose every 
political measure which is adopted by their successful rival ; 
and it is exactly the same thing whenever the Republicans 
prevail in their elections, the Federalists then hang like a 
dead weight, or like a hog tied by the nose, they make a 
horrid noise, and it is with difficulty they can at any rate be 
got along. It has been said, from this collision of parties, 
that liberty is preserved. — If this be true, this is one in- 
stance of an evil tree bearing good fruit. 

^' From what I have been able to learn. Republican more 
than Monarchical governments, have always been attended 
by these political fermentations, and it is highly probable 
from the nature of mankind, always will be. 

" No man will, I think, deny that it is best to have our best 
men selected for officers, for when an unprincipled man gets 
into office, that certainly is an evil tree bearing evil fruit. 

'^ In the present state of things, when the people are about 
to elect a man info office, they never ask whether he be a 
good neighbor, good father, good husband, or good son, not- 
withstanding these are the works by which we may know 
him. They never think of all this, no, the only question 
they ask, is he on our side ? does he hate the Federalists ? 
or does he hate the Republicans ? the case is much the same 
where the President or Governor has to nominate to office ; 
he, the President, or Governor, is sio dependent for his future 
election upon bis own party, that he is obliged by self inter- 
est to confine himself in his appointments to that party only* 
Hence it comes to pass that the opposite party, knowing 
they have nothing to expect but to be slaves to their success- 
ful rivals, during their conlinuance in office, leave no stone 
unturned to get Ihem out of office, and get themselves in* 
In a time of peace, 1 confess, that we. might get along wifb 



2S16.} The Miteumcm* 381 

such a state of things, but in a time of war, when our adyersa- 
rjr is powerful, when he is at our doors, when he has already 
overrun a part of our country, when be is attacking us at a 
great many different points, surely it has become necessary 
that we should be united." \ 

The work afterwards proceeds in the form of a dialogue 
between " An old Tory" and a " Republican." His chap- 
ters are not tedious, and we shall lay those before our read- 
ers, which contain the main features of his project. 

*' Chap. yi. How to procure the necessary European 
alliances in the present state of things, I must' confess,'has 
for some time past appeared to me too difficult to attempt^ 
but this singular Old Tory says no such thing, nothing is 
more easy, that we have it in our power to become imme- 
diately one of the greatest and most respectable nations in 
the world* Ah, said I, come let us hear ; how can this be 
brought about? In the first place, says he, there must be a 
bill brought before the next Congress to alter our Constitu- 
tion so far as respects the duration of the Presidency, this 
point being carried, the next to be obtained is, that the 
President shall be chosen for life, and the office be hereditary 
in his family. This will place us at least in as respectable a 
situation as the Dutch are placed ; before they could estab- 
lish their independency they were obliged to choose the 
Prince of Orange stadtholder, and make the office hereditary 
in his family — but it seems in the late revolutions in Eu- 
rope, even that state of things has been thought too nearly 
related to Republicanism, they have therefore made the 
stadtholder of Holland king of the Netherlands, whereby it 
happens there is not a republick in Europe, independent of 
kings, except it be Switzerland ; and what is to be their 
situation I have not yet learned. 

*^Chap. VII. But are you sure, said I, that a bill wili 
pass the Congress fori making the office of the President 
hereditary. Yes, says he, I am sure ; for both the parties 
have now ran themselves agrokind — the Republicans, by 
embarking in the same cause with Bonaparte — the Federal- 
ists, by promising to do more than they dare attempt ; 
therefore, they will both be glad at any rate, to be relieved 
from their present unpleasant situation. 



S8£ The Ichneumon. [MardK« 

<< But will the people at large, approve of this alteratioo ! 
Yes, more than half the people I talk with, say, inake what 
change jou please, i am sure our situation cannot be altered 
for the wor^e. 

" If I am not mistaken, said I, you have always been m 
favour of monarchical governments. I have, said he. Will 
you be good enough to tell me, said I, why you give the 
preference to a monarchical, rather than to a republican 
government ? 

^^ You must confess, said he, that it is important to have 
our officers circumspect in their behaviour, and likewise, 
that it is important to have power enough somewherOt to re- 
move them from office when they become unfaithful to the 
government, or oppressive to the people. Yes, sidd I, be 
sure there ought to be such power ; well, says he, does any 
such power exist in our government ? Yes, said I, in either 
the cases you mention, the officer would not be re-elected; 
this, replied he, is true in theory, but not in practice — ^who 
will tell the people of the officers' faults, asked he ; I an- 
swered, if the officer be Republican, the Federalists will 
tell of it. What good will that do? said he; whatever the 
Federalists tell about a Republican officer, the Republicans 
will not believe it, but they will say, it is a Federal lie. 

** If a Federal or Republican officer were to eat a young 
child every morning for his breakfast, it would be impossi- 
ble to inform the people of it; for if he was a Federalist, his 
party would not tell of it. It would reflect upon their 
judgment in getting him appointed ; and it would be exactly 
the same thing, were he a Republican. It is impossible to 
make the parties have a worse opinion of one another than 
they now have. A Federalist had rather submit to the 
British than have the goveVnment any longer in the hands 
of the Republicans ; it is the same with the Republicans, 
they had rather choose that the government of the country 
should be given to the Dey of Algiers, than to have it 
given to the Federalists. — Now, this being the case, what 
comfort can there be in living under a Republican govern^ 
ment?" 

" Chap. viii. But are you sure, said I, things will be 
any better in a monarchical government ? Yes, said he, in 
a Punited monarchy. Where trial by jury secured, and all 
laws originate in the House of Representatives^ it will 



The Icknatmon. 

always be (he interest of Ihe Prince fo conciliate the affec- 
tiooa of the people; in this way only will he be able to ob- 
tain moaey ; Ihe momeDt be becomes unpopular, he will be 
ill danger of experiencing Ihe fate of Charles the Firel, and 
many other equally unfoilunale monarcbs ; besides, his of- 
fice being hereditary, this will render him inilependent of 
parlies; he will not be obliged lo choose his oQicers out of 
one parliuiilar pnrly ; lie will have the whole people to 
choose Dul of; and as office is what we are all seeking 
after, and either parly may equiilly have hopes of obtaining 
the prize, there is no danger, that about one half the people 
will be banging like a dead weight upon Ihe government, 

It Ihe Prince will always have it in his power lo buy off 
le papular leaders of both the parties, by nominating them 
'office." 
" Chap. ix. But, said I, would you have a House of 
ords loo ? Yes, said he, by ail means. In what manner 
puld you have them chosen? said I. He replied, they 
Jght to be chosen iq ihe sauie manner as our Senate ii 
cbosen; have Ihe satne power our Senate now have; only 
le( the office be hereditary ; without this arislocratical part 
of Ihe governmenl nothing would be respectable. Such a 
Bous; of independent nobles is absolutely necessary to 
forma kind of check lo ihe demorralick turbulence of the 
Bouse of Representatives. Wilhuul a House of Lords, 
the government would hardly be respectable, and who 
wants to live under a disrespeclable government? The 
more respectable the government is, the less danger will 
there be of civil war; and, in the present stateof the world, 
the less danger of any war al alt." 

" Chap. s. What difTerence, said I, wonld you have in 
the House of Representatives? None at all, said he, let 
Ihetn be chosen in the same manner, and for the same lime- 
Would you have any difference in our slate governments? 
Very Utile, said he, the only difference I would have in 
them, the governors should be appointed by the king during 
pleasure; but bis council should be chosen in the same 
manner as now, and be of the same duration ; and all the 
officers, whose appointments are now during good be- 
havior, should be held for the same length of time, and be 
removed in Ihe same way. WhataKeration would you have 
in the militia laws ? None at all ; but it should clearly be 



I 



I 



I 



384 The leknewmon* [Marchi 

■pecified, said he, that a drafted militia man should nerer 
be compelled to go out of his own state, nor in any case 
whatever, be obliged to serve more than three months in 
one year. 

'^ But may not circumstances, said I, so happen, that a de- 
viation from this rule may be necessary ? It may be, said he, 
but it must be a case of urgent necessity ; in that case, said 
he, if the people like the government, there will never be 
wanting volunteers. The government always ought to 
have the power of employing and directing the movements 
of such ; but they very rarely ought to have the power of 
dragging peaceable and useful citizens from their homes, 
and compelling them to endure all the hardships of a com- 
mon soldier. If the people like their government, they 
would always be ready to contribute to its support ; if they 
did not like it, they never ought to be compelled to support 
it. Why do you have hereditary offices in our govern- 
ment then ? said I. For this reasoti only, said he, to make 
the government more respectable abroad, and that our first 
magistrate should not be under the necessity of being the 
tool of a party." 

" Chap. xi. But would you have, said I, the present Se- 
nate of the United States to be the House of Lords? No, 
says he ; I would start fair, let a new election take place, 
and let the members of Ihe present House of Representa- 
tives have a chance to succeed in the election. The rea- 
son of fhis is obvious, for without this provision they would 
not be so willing to give their consent to the proposed al- 
teration in the government.'* 

" Chap. xii. Well, said I, in what manner would you have 
the King chosen ? In the same manner, said he, that we have 
heretofore chosen a President. Who would you pitch up- 
on, said I, suppose it was in your power to nominate ? Come 
let us hear who would you recommend T This subject, said 
he, admits of but one single question, it certainly ought to 
be that man who could do us the most good. You would 
then act, said I, as the Roman soldiers sometimes did; 
you would sell the office to the highest bidder. Not quite 
so neither, said he, there is this difference ; their conduct 
was mercenary, mine should be patriotic, and I would re- 
commend that man who would in all probability do us the 
most good — that man who would soonest be able to procure 
for us a lasting and iionourable peace — that man who woaM 




The Ichneumon. 

i able to procure for us the grenlesi enlurgemenl of lerri- 

, for you will linil 1 am iiol one of Ihuse who waul lo live 

ii a liMle wrangling Republic ; no, I had rather see all the 

jrld iiniled iioder one great and lespeclable mpnarcb^, 

than to see it further subdivided." 

"CiiAP. XIII. You would then, I suppose. Be glad, said T, 
to have Ihi* contilrj' united lo iJte Briiiah enipfre. Nol so 
tieilberi said he ; 1 would rulfier see Great Britain become 
a colony to Aiaerica; it would be unnatural, said he, that 
the lesser sh^.jld govern the greater leirifory. Have yoa 
any hope, >>id F, that this will ever be the case! Yes, 
have, said he, a hope ; the thing is possible, said lie, and 

Ifaerefore ought lo be hoped for, ami even alleinpted. Toil 
ayilis-po^iaible, said I ; for God's sake point out the way; 
bat I can do easily, said he ; bul as this is an important 
Wrf of the business, we will postpone the consideration of it 
p another chapter." 
, "Chap. xiv. Let us choose for our King one of the 
'onngesl of the British Princes ; but before we da lliis, let' 
ns stipulate with the British government that they shall re- 
linquish lo us all their territories, except the West-India 
Islands, in North America. If they will not do this without 
a pecuniary consideration, let us pay il ; the money may be 
borrowed in this case of their own subjects. Let ns then 
purchase from the Spaniards a relinquishmenl of Louisiana 
a nd iheFloridaa; money for this purpose may likewise be 
^■iprrowed in England; all these purchases will not cost so 
^^nicb as continuing Ihe war one year. Our eviensivc and 
^|tur convenient harbours will be Glled with ships and seamen 
^^wora every part of the world ; Ihe revenues from this ex- 
tensive commerce, will, in a very short time, be greater than 
we shall have any occasion for ; in Ihe mean time, let a navy- 
be provided and encouraged by every reasonable encour- 
a^ment, let an army be kept on our wilderness fronliera, 
this will for ever secure ua from Indian wars ; by this means 
the Indians may be progressively organized inio regular 
armies, Christian ministers of all denominaliona may con- 
stantly, at Ihe expense of government, be sent among them ; 
in a very short time their civilization and conversion lo 
Christianity may be expected; then will come Ihe time 
when every American may sit under his own vine aud own 
fig-tree, and have none to make him afraid. Then will 
come Ihe lime, when Ihe wilderness may truly be said lo 
blossom like Ihe rose." 

Vol. II. No. 6. ^9 



I 



I 



386 The IchntumoH. [March, 

It is difficult io make a serious remark on such a scheme 
as this ; but if there is any part of if, )hat has more nait^ti 
than another, it is the supposition, that the English govern- 
ment would give us their possessions on this continent, and 
do every thirjg to aid us to become a great power, if we 
would only assume a monarchical form of government, and 
take one of their "sons" to be at the head of it. Extrava- 
gant as this may appear, there are scores of worthy citizens 
whose sagacious intellect early discovered this fact ; and 
who have regularly voted against certain individuals, be- 
cause they were fully convinced of their being employed to 
carry this plot into effect. Fatuity like this, may be cited 
against our reasonings in favour of republican government; 
but, it should be recollected, what has been sometimes for- 
got, that it is not peculiar to republicks, and that under any 
form of government the same folly will exist, and exert its 
influence on publick measures. For sufficient proof of this, 
we need only mention the " no popery" cry in England, and 
its extraordinary effects. We take the authour's. last chapter, 
for the sake of the humour contained in the anecdote at the 
close of it, which we do not recollect to have seen before. 

" Chap. xxv. But suppose, said I, in all this business of 
party dissension and civil war, you should be mistaken; 
suppose the fact should be, that there is a secret under- 
standing between the leaders of both parties, and that they 
have agreed, so far we will go and no further ; what danger 
in that case would arise from the present division into par- 
ties? In that case I grant, said he, there would not be in 
theory so much danger, but in practice I have my doubts. 
You know, said he, political horses sometimes throw very 
skilful riders ; let them who are in the saddle look to it. 
And now by way of diversion, said the Old Tory, I will 
tell you a story : In the reign of Henry eighth, the. House 
of Lords being about to patch up an impeachment against 
Cranmer, ordered the door-keeper not to admit him. Cran- 
mer came to the door, but could get no admittance. The 
King had private intelligence of what was going on, he ap- 
peared likewise at the door and demanded admission ; the 
door was immediately opened, the King went in stern fore- 
most, bowing and scraping to Cranmer ; walk in my good 
Lord Archbishop, said the King ; he then took Cranmer by 
the hand, led him to his seat, and after seating himself be 
thus addressed himself to their Lordships — fie upon yoa, 



1816^] The Ichneumon. 387 

gentlemen, fie ! whj will you no^4reat one another as jou 
ought ? Here is my good Lord Archbishop, as worthy of 
his seat in this House as any of you, and you compelled 
him to stand at your door as a porter. — Treat one another 
like gentlemen, said the King (at the same time getting up 
and shaking his cane) if you do not, thank God there is one 
lives yet, who is able to make you.'* 

^' This story, said I, holds up to view a tyrannical King, 
the remembrance of which has aroused anew all my Re- 
publican and anti-royal prejudices. — True, said he, I told 
it for that very purpose ; but now, said he, let us compare 
this state of things to what followed in the weak reign of his 
daughter Mary. — At Smithfield there was burned to death, 
many of the best men in England. — If you will have pa- 
tience, said he, in order to give you my notions on 4his sub- 
ject 1 will tell you another story." 

"When, after the death of Oliver Cromwell, General 
Monk was marching his army toward London, various con- 
jectures circulated respecting which party General Monk 
would join ; for the nation was now split into a number of 
parties ; at length it was rumoured that Monk's intentions 
were to restore the King ; an old friend of Monk, a zealous 
Republican, heard the story, but would not believe it; he 
went to the General and asked him if the report was true ; 
It is indeed, said the General. Is it possible ? said the old 
gentleman ; the very idea of a King sounds to me as bad as 
the devil; true, said Monk, just so it, sounds to me ; but is 
there nothing worse than the devil ? said Monk. No, said 
the old gentleman, how can any thing be worse than the 
devil? 1 will tell you what, said Monk — hell broke loose, is 
worse than the devil a thousand times." 

Before we advance some opinions in favour of Republican 
government in this country, let us make a few observations 
on the state of monarchy in Europe. It is not our object 
to criminate that form of government, which is the only one 
suited to the state of society, and the habits of Europe ; and 
which may exist with a greater or less infusion of freedom, 
in proportion to the morality and intelligence of the sub- 
jects of it. Let us select the limited monarchy of England, 
confessedly the most mild, the most free, and wielding the 
most powerful means. A slight examination will shew some 
ef the disadvantages of this form government, where it ex- 



388 Th€ Ithntmnon. [Marcbf 

ists in the greatest perFectfian. We are not ignorant of itg 
advantages, we are not pretending to decide, whether the 
latter do not greatly overbalance the former ; we do not 
intend to discuss the question, whether that nation is sus- 
ceptible of a pure republican form of government, wheth^ 
it could have existed under that form, during the recent 
period of European convulsion. But as remote observers 
are apt to Consider only the favourable side of the picture ; 
we wish to point out some of the shades to those who, hav- 
ing seen it at a/ distance, are struck only with its glaring 
lights and prominent beauties. It may at least strengthen 
our cause with a negative argument. 

We say nothing of its early periods ; they were a tissue 
of horrours, not owing to the form of government, but to the 
state of society. Down to the reign of Queen Anne, in- 
surrections, civil wars and persecutions, were frequent 
occurrences, and even to a later period, the heads of rebel 
noblemen were occasionally stuck on poles in the noietropolis 
of the kingdom. 

We will assume the period of the momentous and bril- 
liant reign of the present sovereign. This embraces a time 
when civilization, refinement, and knowledge have made the 
greatest progress ; when able lawyers have defined, skilful 
advocates defended, and great statesmen maintained, the 
civil and in some instances the political rights, of the sub- 
ject. In this period of rapid communication, of wide spread 
intelligence, and of active humanity, let us run over some of 
the shadows to which we have alluded. In the first place, Ire- 
land, containing more than one quarter of the population, has 
been almost constantly harassed with civil war, insurrections, 
burnings, plunderings, assassinations, and horrours of every 
description, that have seldom left it for a period of any dura- 
tion free from the burthen of martial law, in other words, mili- 
tary despotism. Many counties of England itself, have been 
partially submitted to its forms, and every considerable town 
owes its quiet, in part, to the establishment of barracks and 
the presence of soldiers ; they have not, however, always ex- 
perienced security, and all the great towns in the kingdom, 
including the capital itself, have been, during this reign, 
sometimes in the hands of the most brutal mobs, in some 
instances, for days together. We Ao not mean to assert, 
that it would not have been much worse under any other 
form of government ; or that they would have continued to 
exist to this day as a republick. Yet we will say, tn 







'STfi.) The Ichntuman. 



passntU, if Ihe English had been as familiar wllh repiiblJci 
habils, aa llie Dutch, and their character had been long 
adapted to ita forms, that they woulil have been as Iritini- 
pbant a republick as they now are a monarchy. llDlliinil 
was not conquered because it was a republick, hut because 
it was a small power overwhelmed by large ones. 

ir then under the best regulated monarchy, (he people are 
not exempt occasionally from calamities like these, is pri- 
vate virtue absolved from publick exertions? Are the secu- 
rity of individual properly, the enjoyment of personal 
rights and privileges, the repose of luxury and refinement, 
the spontaneous fruits of royally, requiring neither cultiva- 
tion nor watchfulness ? The real condition of that country 
i» far indeed from this stale of torpid enjoymenf. It is 
true that there are crowds of quiet, obscure individuals of 
various ranks, who never agilale their minds wilh publick 
concerns, and whose highest feeling of patriotism, is Ihe 
mechanical result of local habits. Such men may be found, 
jind will be unmolested in every country ; such existed under 
the wild democracy of Alhens, and thousands of Ihe same 
"^ind were luxuriating in undisturbed voluplnousness, under 
the protecting despotism of \apoleon. But to men who 
wish to obtain eminence in sociely, who are anxious to 
insert their names in the history of their country, who 
Btrive for present power, or future fame, and are ambitious of 
any share either in managing or watching any part of admi- 
nistratioD, severe duties and constant edbrts are necessary. 

There is even less difference in this respecj between this 
country and England, than many persons imagine. The 
possession of political influence there, requires as much, 
perhaps more exertion, than it does here. The most pow- 
erful peers are obliged lo engage In ail Ihe anxieties, all the 
inlrtguee, and infinitely more expense, than is ever called 
for here, to maintain their local interest. Even the very 
elections, although they are injuriously and almost oppres- 
sively multiplied here, do not so widely diifer in the aggre- 




I 



I 



lie of inconvenience, as many suppose. Our national rc- 
esentatives are elected every two years. Parliaments in 

Ingland are nominally for seven, but in fact the average does 
not exceed four or five. Our elections are completed in 
one day ; theirs last fourteen, if either of the candidates 
choose it. The scenes of riot, the venuiity, and Ihe pro- 
fligacy of all kinds, which accorapany these scenes, which 



1 



1 

390 The Ichneumon. [Marcb, 

may be called the Saturnalia of England, would indeed be 
intolerable if they occurred oftener. But a fortnight at a 
time, which is the case with many of the most important 
elections, and the labour of canvassing, that occupies many 
previous weeks, will go far to balance the frequency of our 
appeals to the community. Besides the choice'of members 
of Parliament, there are municipalities, directors of various 
important trusts, and great publick associations, the direction 
of which, excite the most ardent competition and struggling. 
We mention these facts, merely to shew, what is sometimes 
forgotten, that the contests of interest and ambition, exist 
in monarchies as well as in republicks, and that the English 
constitution does not prevent the necessity of continual ex- 
ertion. Indeed the quiet which some men sigh after, is only 
to be found under absolute despotism. The same impa- 
tience at being roused to exertion for publick purposes, that 
is felt by men, who are only solicitous for good government 
in the hands of others, and for tranquillity in their own per- 
sons, is shewn in England, and much more extensively than 
here. There are individuals who laugh at all political free- 
dom ; and there was not long since, a book published by Mr. 
Leckie, a better Greek scholar than a politician, which held 
up the system of elections, as a very irksome farce ; that it 
would be much wiser, while the question was in agitation, 
of giving a constitution like the English to the Island of 
Scily, to adopt the principles of the Sicilian constftution 
for the Island of Britain. 

The English monarchy, then, does not supersede the 
necessity of political exertion, which is the strongest proof 
of the free principles incorporated in it. • The next con- 
sideration is, the sum of happiness enjoyed under it. To 
estimate this, we must not look at the privileged classes 
only, but take into view every class of the nation. The 
higher classes in England are surpassed in dignity \^y none ; 
the lower classes are equalled by few ; the middle classes 
are not only more numerous, but in a higher and more fortu- 
nate relative standing, than in any other country in Europe. 
What is ther^ to place against this large amount of prosperi- 
ty ? We put Ireland out of the question. That unfortunate 
country, seems condemned to constant misery and turbu- 
lence, through the operation of two causes. Her rents, ex- 
acted with grinding severity, are spent by non-resideot 
landlords in other countries ; and her degraded population, 



1816.] The Ichneumon. 391 

nourished in ignorance by the exuberant bigotry of one 
religion, is condemned to furnish a luxurious support to the 
sinecure incumbents of another. 

To confine the examination to England herself, we shall 
only mention the condition of two classes, tbe sailors, and 
the manufacturers and mechanicks. The first, may be es- 
timated to contain one fifteenth of the adult male population. 
It will be dilScult to find in any country, a population more 
.utterly destitute of all personal rights than this class ; the 
forced service of the navy, does riot, to be sure, like the in- 
fernal code of the late French conscription, involve the pa- 
rents of the individuals ; jet so far as it regards the individ- 
uals themselves, it is more cruel, more odious, and more 
hopeless, than the conscription, li is more cruel, because 
it is exercised with more suddenness, more caprice, and 
more yiolence, and without even the appearance of any 
forms. It is more odious, because it is directed against 
only one class, and its execution is often influenced by 
individual tyranny and brutality. It is more hopeless, be- 
cause there is no chance of promotion ; because no length 
of service, is a guarantee against it, and there is no relief, 
but disability or death ; and because there is no interval 
of time and space, that can dissolve the liability of allegi- 
ance. We are now speaking of a practice, which no man jus- 
tifies ; and which must fairly be supposed to be inevitable, 
since in England, a, country which abounds with intrepid, 
enlightened philanthropists, no one now ventures to men- 
tion this monstrous system. The case of the manufactur- 
ers and mechanicks is not quite so bad ; still they enjoy 
only a portion of the rights of their fellow subjects. The 
farmer and labourer may expatriate themselves in pursuit of 
that subsistence, which they cannot find at home. Rut the 
mechanick or manufacturer, who when employment fails, en- 
deavours to escape from starvation, is liable to be arrested and 
treated as a felon. In fact, they are chained to their coun- 
try, and one of the most oppressive principles of the feudal 
law, still bears upon them, long after the rest of the>nation 
has been freed from its burthens. — This is a very invidious 
subject, we do not wish to pursue it, our object is only de- 
fensive, to shew to those who have been dazzled with the 
advantages of the British constitution, that it is not entirely 
without defects ; and that a considerable portion are de- 



382 Tke Ichnmman. [March, 

prived of the dearest rights, to maiDtain the security and 
prosperity of the rest. 

Tiie constant exertion of the right of suffrage, and jealous 
investigation of all public measures required by a republi- 
can government, have always been urged as strong objec« 
tions against its stability. The first gives such perpetual 
opportunities to demagogues, to mislead and corrupt the 
lower classes of citizens, while the higher are soon fatigued 
with \he repeated arid often ungrateful duties of both. For 
a very long period, however, there is less to fear from the 
corruption of the lower, than from the apathy of the higher 
classes.^ As a security against this fatal effect, it is obvi- 
ous, that these political duties are in reality a very slight 
burthen, except on a few who volunteer as sentinels. Habit 
contributes to render these duties more e^sy ; and the ex* 
ample of all governments proves, that our choice is between 
a stagnating abasement, under the calm of despotism, or en- 
nobling exertion on the tempestuous sea of liberty. Surely 
the equal participation of personal rights, and enjoyment of 
personal protection, constitutes a treasure that is worth 
contending to perpetuate. To every man of generous feet 
ings, there is an elevated pride in knowing, that he forms 
part of a people, standing higher than any other in political 
rank ; there is something exhilarating in the consciousness, 
that the advantages he may enjoy, are not purchased by 
any sacrifice of the rights of others. 

In estimating the dangers of republican governments, we 
have always thought, that sufficient allowance has not been 
made for the power of habit, which is of vastly more im- 
portance, than any enactments or written constitutions. Had 
our war of Independence formed a revolution properly so 
called, had we been previously accustomed to the restraints 
of even limited monarchy, and the people been divided 
info distinct classes, invested with peculiar privileges ; and 
then, in throwing off allegiance to a foreign nation, had they 
assumed, for the first time, the exercise of the democratick 
principle, such a revolution, notwithstanding our greater 
sobriety, might have terminated as wretchedly, as that of 
France. But no such revolution took place ; the same cus- 

* We use the word higher and lower classes in reference to educa- 
tion, profession and property ; classes is a term of conTenieDce, tboQg^ 
in the strict sense of the word, it can hardly be applied in this coou- 
trj. 



1816.] The Ichneumon. 393 

toms, the same principles, the same feelings governed the 
people ; and the change was in fact little at variance with 
these ; and of vastly less importance, than the passage of 
power from a Catholick to a Protestant family, was to the 
feelings and habits of the people of England. ^ It is novelty 
which is dangerous in government ; often more hurtful than- 
established abuses. The force of habit was fatally shewn 
in France, nay even in England, where the democratick 
principle forms a considerable constituent feature in the 
government and the character of the people ; yet they were 
incapable of supporting a republick, ^nd were eager to return 
to their former customs. It is difficult to find an individual 
who can pass from a monarchy to a republick, or vice versa, 
and have his new duties sit easy and graceful upon him. It 
is utterly impossible for a nation to undergo the first of 
these changes ; and for a republick to subside permanently 
into a monarchy, can only happen by the slo^west operation 
of circumstances, foreign subjugation excepted ; and never 
till its character and institutions have so far deteriorated, 
that the revolution will be rather a process of decay, than 
an establishment of increasing strength. 

Next to this influence of habit, may be ranked the state 
of property, and the character of our population. The 
former is almost equally divided ; the nature of our laws 
must keep it so ; and the latter, hardly contains any portion 
of mere populace. Every main is, or may be a holder of 
real estate ; he may possess a portion of the territory in fee 
simple, a privilege which is even denied to great wealth in 
some countries in Europe, and can only be enjoyed by that, 
in any. The majority of the voters, then, are landholders, 
such men may be deluded for a time, but instinct, if not rea** 
son, will bring them right at last. 

Another principle, which forms the glory of political sci^ 
ence, and the greatest improvement of the moderns over the 
ancients, the principle of representation, is here carried into 
all the ramifications of government. Every thing is delega- 
gated ; and wherever the principle of delegation obtains, 
provided the practice is fatJoiliarta those who exercise it, 
the particular modification is of secondary importance. 
The American people never act like the populace of Rome 
and Atheas, immediately from themselves, except they are 
in a state of insurrection ; they delegate others for every 
operation. Their delegates may not always be wise ones ; 

Vol. II. No. 6. 50 



394 The Ichnttmon. [March^ 

* 

they may mistake hollow pretensions for sound principles, 
and plausible professions for honest intentions ; nations, like 
individual men and women, must pay for the pleasure of be^ 
ing flattered and deceived, either with their pockets or their 
persons, and be fortunate if they escape both. But a fre- 
quent resumption of power, will sooner or later enable them 
to retrieve their mistake. 

We think the history of the country, has hitherto proved 
this to be the case in many instances. Even where this is 
delayed, the very circumstance of being in power, the irre- 
sistible operation of government is, to make those who 
administer it, support its principles, and strengthen its foun- 
dations. This very operation is now before our eyes. 
, When the government first went into action, all the mea- 
sures of administration were to be arranged ; these, with few 
exceptions, discovered so much wisdom, as well as, mode- 
ration, as proved their authors to have possessed an equal 
share of sagacity and virtue. When a series of political 
intrigues carried the government into other hands, we then 
experienced a most important crisis. Innovation was borne 
on the shoulders of popular delusion into every department, 
and it is possible at this early period, if the pi:ime mover 
had been younger, and able to have kept the reins a few 
years longer, and no foreiscn pressure had intervened to 
force us together ; then, indeed, we might have fallen back 
into our original condition ; all the hoops that bound us 
would have been loosened, and we should have fallen like a 
shook cask, into the anarchy from which we had been 
raised, a collection of poor, divided, unprotected States. But 
his successors partly from sounder views, partly from exter- 
nal circumstances, have abandoned the fatal absurdities 
which brought them into power, and resumed the solid, 
original principles of the government. The nation seems 
disposed, in many respects, to go with them, and a very few 
years must so fix all the establishments, that the administra^ 
tion will become, with slight exceptions, an affair of routine. 
The contest will then be for place, rather than principle, 
and whenever this is the ciase, the result is really of less 
consequence, than in the warmth of party feeling we are 
sometimes apt to imagine. 

Among the numerous trite and false maxims which have 
been currently received, and confidently retailed on the 
subject of popular forms of government, the one which 



1816.] The Ichneuimn. 396 

makes the eiLtentofthe country, an argument against the 
existence of such forms, is the most conspicuous. Nothing 
can be more directly opposed to truth. The almost infi- 
nite complication of machmery in the government of a free 
country, which constitutes the perfection of modern politi- 
cal !!»cience, the wide extent over which this system is 
extended ; are the surest guarantees of its solidity. The 
Union composed of separate States, unembarrassed by local 
details of police and administration, has its attention only 
occupied by the movements of Foreign relations, and some 
few of the more important bearings of internal economy. 
The States, again subdivided into counties, into towns, mto 
parishes, the scale of power and independence gradually 
di.'iiinishing, till a minute and perfect organization is the 
result ; furnishes by all this gradation of corporate capaci- 
ties, a most admirable mode of obtaining a true knowledge 
of publick sentiment ; the same system presents an almost 
insurmountable obstacle to its subversion, by the difficulty 
of corrupting so many different bodies, or combining them 
to act in concert against it. There may be a partial de- 
rangement, and yet the motion of the whole not be seriously 
impeded. The scheme may be compared to certain col- 
lections of machinery ; popular will, is the great moving 
power which keeps the whole in motion ; and if a portion 
gets heated or deranged, it may be detached from the rest 
for temporary repairs, without arresting the movement of 
the whole. On this subject let us make two quotations, 
from one of the wisest political treatises now 'possessed by 
the world. ' To this catalogue of circumstances, that tend 
to the melioration of popular systems of civil government, 
I shall venture, however novel it may appear to some, to 
adduce one more on a principle which has been made the 
foundation of an objection to the new constitution ; I mean 
the enlargement of the orbitj within which such systems 
are to revolve, either in respect to the dimensions of a sini;le 
state, oi^ to the consolidation of seve,ral smaller states into 
one great confederacy.' Federalist, vol. 2, p. 55, 

* It is no less certain than it is important, notwithstanding 
the contrary opinions which have been entertained, that the 
larger the society, provided it be within a practicable sphere, 
the more duly capable it will be of self-government. And 
bappily for the republican cause, the practicable sphere 



396 The khneumon. [March, 

maj be carried to a very great extent, by a judicious modi- 
fication and mixture of the federal principle.' Idem. toI. 
3, p. 3*^. 

There was one source of danger to our republican insti- 
tutions, which every day must diminish. The glare, "the 
pomp and circumstance" of royalty, might easily dazzle the 
citizens of a youthful republick, hardly known in the world, 
and only distinguished for their happy state of peace and la- 
borious enterprise. When they had shewn themselves capa- 
ble of other energies, greater confidence in themselves, and 
greater respect from others, naturally followed. The manly, 
dignified pride of republican freedom, must inevitably ob- 
tain at last the highest station in the opinion of the world ; 
as the gaudy luxury of Persia was abashed at Roman sim- 
plicity, so every day, which adds to our growth and our 
fame, will diminish the comparative glitter of royalty, and 
attach the highest respect to the highest state of freedom. 
Examine two rival portraits. — Observe the exalted sense of 
honour, which makes the Peer of a monarchy devote his 
life for his sovereign, regarding that sovereign as the personi- 
fication of the majesty of his country, profoundly submis- 
sive to him, courteous to his equals, gentle to his inferiours, 
"feeling dishonour like a wound," and proud of his decora- 
tions, as they are the reward of his services and the gift of 
his king. — Consider the patriot of a republick, who feels all 
outward trappings of distinction to be only irksome foppery, 
who serves his country for no other reward but the fame of 
serving her ; who primus inter pares^ can reflect with gene- 
rous complacency, that he has no superiours, nor inferiours, 
except to his personal merit and services : who engages in 
pubiick life with affability, but without subserviency, who 
looks without disdain,for truer appreciation, than that of tem- 
porary popularity ; who can smile in retirement at the way- 
wardness of his fellow-citizens who may prefer a sorry 
de'.iagogue to himself, ready when danger approaches, to 
resume the place which only courage and talent can fill.* 
If such characters are rare, we believe at least the latter 
are as numerous as the former, and the superiority between 
them cannot be doubtful. 

* A celebrated writer has said, Des qu^il i/ adu danger, totit se rangCt 
le courage prends sa place. 



1816.] . The Ichneumon. 397 

Tt would take a volume to discuss all the points of (his 
subject : and after all our wishes and belief, there is 
something excessivelj discouraging on the opposite sido. 
For in theory, the gradual degradation and ultimate sub- 
version of a democratick republick from intrinsick causes, 
seems so nearly inevitable, that it may almost be re- 
duced to the form of a diagram, and demonstrated with all 
the neatness of mathematical certainty. We are ov-fir- 
whelmed too by the reputation of those able men, whose 
pure hearts and ardent minds, impressed and alarmed with 
this conviction, have laboured to avert the catastrophe, by 
arguments, by warning, by prophecy: true Laocoons these! 
whose only reward, was to have their popularity strangled 
by the foul serpents of deception and calumny. 

The friends of order, of quiet, of stability and national 
honour, may be often " nailed to the north wall of opposi- 
tion ;" but as this class must possess the largest portion of 
talents and wealth, the bulk of their fellow citizens who 
possess any share of intelligence or property, and a large 
majority are now in this situation, will never be very far 
from them ; and abuses cannot long remain enormous with- 
out correction. 

To young men of generous minds, who feel that admira- 
tion for liberty and republican institutions, which a perusal 
of the immortal works of antiquity, can hardly fail of creat- 
ing, we would recommend the study of the Federalist ; they 
will there find the principles of freedom, and the constitu- 
tion of their country, delineated and defended with the 
utmost ability and perspicuity. Legitimate opposition 
forms the grand preservative of a free government ; but its 
continuity is often wearisome and irksome, and yet it must 
be continued, or the power of rallying on emergency, aban- 
doned. In the political drama, the striking scenes and 
grandest movements earnestly engage attention ; while the 
mere recitative of opposition is lifeless and fatiguing ; the 
work we have mentioned may be safely recurred to, as a 
salutary cordial to raise the spirits and confirm attention. 
To conclude, we may be vexed with abuses, we may be 
mortified at seeing low minds in places of eminence, we may 
be amused at having some Mr. Tugalh to tell us, who 
shall be our Chief Magistrate — Yet so long as we shall 
have able and pure men, who by their writings and speeches, 
will enlighten, guide, and animate publick opinion — we 
shall ^^ never despair of the republick." 



39a Scotes Visit to Pari$. [Marcb, 



A Visit to Paris in 1814; being a review of the morale 
political^ intellecttial and social condition of the French 
Capital. By John Scott. Philadelphia^ republished 
by Edward Parker. 12nto. pp. 310. 

Though France is crowded in every part of it with Eng- 
lish travellers and English families, who make it their resi- 
dence for years together, she seems destined not to please 
the travel-writers of that nation. Before the revolution, 
they complained, that their Marquesses wore red-heeled, and 
their peasants wooden, shoes ; that the ladies wore rouge, 
and the gentlemen embroidery ; that the people were eiTeoii* 
nate, enslaved and overrun with priests and superstitious 
practices : now they complain, that they are rude and fero- 
cious, destitute of religion, turbulent and uomanageable. 
Tiiere may be some truth in all these assertions, but there 
is also much exaggeration. This book was written to be 
popular in E.^gland, and of course direct flattery of his own 
country and countrymen, is often brought in to contrast 
more strongly with the vices of Frenchmen and France. 
This is perfectly natural from the habits of an English edi- 
tor of a newspaper, but it is not the most desirable line of 
conduct for a traveller. 

It is, perhaps, unfortunate for Mr. Scott, that we have 
been so recently engaged with the travels of a Frenchman in 
England ; the comparison, in respect to candour,- absence 
of prejudice, and what is still more remarkable, style and 
purity of writing, is vastly against him. This work is writ- 
ten in the most vicious taste, and is a specimen of a large 
proportion of modern English productions, which threaten 
the entire corruption of the language, and to render its das- 
sick writers, at no distant period, obsolete. Barbarous words 
are coined, or raked from ancient kennels, where they had 
been buried in fortunate oblivion. Not only words, but 
manner also, is bad. There is an attempt, by laborious re- 
search of epithet, to crowd a sentence with meaning. Their 
sentences are like their own stage coaches, which originally 
debtined to carry four insides^ are loaded with outsides and 
'wigg^S^ *^ ^" inconvenient and dangerous extent ; the re- 
sult therefore is, that instead of carrying more meaning, the 




Scoit's Visit to Paris. 



/ overturned, aod the whole involved ii 

^ coDfusion. Ltil ushowever do justice lo the aulhoi 

bis style is faulty, and his prejudices, fioin habit as a parly 

Writer, of seeing defects only on one side, obvious; yet be 

'a often a sagacious observer, he appeuis to judge from his 

LOwn impressions, and his deacriptluusare ol'len just and an- 

■^maled. 

We rauaf here make a few general remarks, on Ihe violent 
iianDerin which Ihe state ofeoctal life in France, is represent- 
ed by this and other writers, as being io the lowest slate of 
degradation. Possibly, in her altered condition, some feeling 
of pity may excite us on this point. When France was 
''powerful, arrogant, and mischievous, we would have urged 



ved in ^^M 
hough ^^ 



Lawn 
■inal 

"•fean 
ed t 
deg( 
of p 

ft: 



when she isi 






ikind to resist and combat he 

, broken and degraded, our at'acks should cease. 
VVe would borrow a maxim from Ihe English gladiators, 
and refrain from a blow, when the opponent was down. If 
debellnre superbos was the proper luotto in one case, par- 
,ccre aubjectis should operate in the other. 

In pursuing this declamation against French soctely, it 
loula be recollected, that Paris, wliich principally furnishea 
le theme, is the grand resort of all the debauched voJuptu- 
Bries of Europe. There they live in a round of decent dis- 
sipation and polished voluptuousness ; mixing only in circles 
equally seducing and dangerous, without morality, bill witb- 
^ou( grossness. We have known strangers from different 
' "" ' " ' o have resided in Paris for years, without any 
ifercourse with domeslick life, or any visit in any private 
luse, except perhaps anoicasional dinner at their Banker's, 
their Ambaasadour'a. These persons having encounter- 
no chastity Ihamselves, are very apt to be incredulous 
lout its existence ; and go away representing France Io be 
:harming and very immoral, having constantly found 
to be both. 

This, however, it will be admilled, has lillle to do wilh 
le great mass of society. The truth is, that in France, as 
all other countries, il is extremely difficult for a stranger 
get initiated into the beat private society; a dlBiculty 
hich is commonly increaaed, iii proportion to the size of 
le capital, where il exists. To penetrate into this society 
not more easy in Paris, than il is in London. There must 
:nerally be some atriking circumslancea to favour it. 
... ,j^jj_ 



I 



400 ScotVs Visit to Paris. [March, 

ments in musick, high rank, fi:reat fame, or even notoriety^ 
may be passports to certain assemblies in fashionable life ; 
but even then, the society is neither intimate nor connected. 
There was one winter in London, when any dark looking 
man, unable to speak English, and smelling of cigars, might 
have passed, as a Spanish Patriot, into ihe most fashionable 
routs. During another, any fierce, whiskered countenance, 
in a hussar uniform, with an unspeakable name, was wel- 
comed into the same circles. In Paiis, Persian and Turk- 
ish Ministers and their suite, with long beards and turbaned 
heads, and their heavy composure of face, were always fa- 
vourites in society, though they could not speak a word of 
the language ; even we, simple, plain republicans had oar 
day, and there was a time, when the most polished coterie 
of Paris, was imperfect, without the acquaintance of Dr« 
Franklin, and for many years after him, his countrymen 
were received in the most flattering manner. In ordinary 
cases, there must be considerable merit, good recommenda- 
tions, good luck, dignified patience, and perseverance with- 
out impertinence, to fairly circulate in the best society. A 
partial admission may be often obtained, and yet to the dis- 
appointment of the individual, he will get but one step for- 
ward. A friend of ours, who had lived long in Paris, once 
remarked, that society iu that city was a magick circle, you 
continually fancied you were withm it, and as regularly 
found yourself on the outside. 

That there is much immorality in France, that the foun- 
dations of society are at some points sapped, cannot, unfor- 
tunately, be denied ; a knowledge of human character, and 
of the events that have taken place in that countrj*^, would 
shew this must be the case, even to those who had never 
visited it. But the coai'se, indiscrimiuate denunciation of its 
social state, which is so very common, is unreasonable and 
untrue. If France is inferiour to some, she is greatly supe- 
1 iour to many others, and there are several capitals in Eu- 
rope, where there is more general degradation, more odious 
and infamous profligacy than in Paris. 

We shall intersperse our copious extracts with a fe'w re- 
marks. 

* A large crucifix on the pier of Dieppe, seen from the 
' deck of the packet, first caused me to feel that I was about 
' to land on foreign ground, and mingle with manners^ and 



ScoWs Visil to Paris. 



f looks, and Iangua;:;e, to which 1 had been unaccustomed. 
^Fiiis feeling, when experienced for ibe first lime, is a strung 
^nd touching one. I am not ashamed lo confeas, that I 
looked earnestly at the hills which rose before me, to dis- 
Fcover something French about them ; Ib&y eeemetl, bowev* 
' er, to be round and green, very much like those 1 had left 
' behind. My eye earneslly aoueht out the clusters of farm- 

* bouses; they indicated life and inlelligence.lhal formed part 
' of a different system of sentiments, manners and espres* 
' siona, from that to which I belonged. The sensation that 
' is caused by this conviction is not easily described ; — you 
' seem to be going, as it were, beyond yourself, — and you 

* are surprised to find that your experience does not furnish 
' you with a single anticipalion of any of the appearances that 
' are about to present lliemselves. This is a novelty, indeed, 
' after a certain age, and revives again, in (he exhausted and 

* torpid breast, that aclivily of observation, quickness of feel- 
'tag, and fruitfulness of idea, that give to the moments of 
' childhood as much of the essence of enjoyment as is con- 

* tained in years of after-life. While a traveller keeps within 

* his own country, he expects that, with something new, he 

* will meet with more tliat is common ; he knows how be 

* will be received at the inns ; he is conversant with the as- 
' pect of the towns: and the very features of the earth regard 
' him, as he passes, with an air of old acquaintanceship. But 

* when, for the first time, he quits his owu country, he is pre- 
' pared for nothing; every thing comes upon him with the 

* force of a first impression ; and nothing startles him more 

* than the numerous resemblauces to those objects and hab- 
' its with which he is familiar. These he least cKpeets to 

* encounter, and at these, therefore, lie is most surprised. 
' The reported discovery of roads in the moon, excited 

* more popular admiration than the account of any monstrous 
' prodigy on its surface would have done. 

' Aa the packet entered within the pier, the interest be- 
' came stronger, for we were advancing within crowds of men 

* and women, and into the bosom of the strange place. We 

* could already hear the youngest children, and the most mis- 
' erable of the poor, talking a language which we bad been 
< accustomed to consider as the proof of a liberal education. 
' It was Sunday, and the beach and quay were thronged with 

* persons waiting to see us land. " For the love of Heaven," 

* cried an English admiral's lady, "look at that creature in 

Vol.11. No. 6. Al 



omedi _ ^M 
strone: ~ 



! 



I 



40& ScoWs Visit to Paris. [Marchv 

«^rt«ffrthlpcllicoat!*' She waa a fishwomaR, and certainly 

^•prtlscfiifed a figure very grotesque to an English eye. The 

t ^djr.itfm'en jackets of these women are tight around the 

^wtiM f '<the expansion where the petticoat begins is im- 

^/ttiemk^hut the petticoat itself is short. Both their hands 

^^ayttfiiAilly in their pockets ; they walk along with a care- 

^4esi a4rf stooping forward their bodies ;• their physiognomies 

Claris (db^^rfS but do not indicate rudeness ; and from their ears, 

'^ hug^'^olden drops and rings are suspended^ which are be- 

^«^iidtftb6d from mother tadaughter with pride, and preserY- 

**^&-rn ttos CamiJy with care. Let me do them the justice 

^^.pirttilre- their cleanliness ^ their dress is remarkably com- 

^Ijtotel ixifA trim ; — their raised caps, with long loose flaps 

^^'Mi*gitlg> over their shoulders, are white as snow ; and ( 

T^btfAtan oj^portunity of confirming this observation in other 

^161^08^ the coast, and on other days of the week besides 

^Siiiiday. 

\i ^iW<$'<eiOuId also discern some ladies on the pier, and their 
-^ifloyingf' shawls, high boQnets, and tricksome gait, bid oar 
J^VbMigii^ntlemen prepare their complioieDts in a new Ian- 
^fcHtfgiif $mi in a new style. I had been told not to expect 
^'mtK^lfeYnale beauty in France ; but the first face I could 
^drstShdrty perceive, was that of a very beautiful French 
^'^t^i Who leaned, with an air of triumphant weakness, on 
^^tteafinicif her beau, a fierce fellow, with a cocked hat, and 
'^HSt^oftdMie^ while she regarded us with a look which cannot 
'♦'be»ldiB«ct«ibed otherwise than by saying it conveyed, with 
^'i^itnavb^d intention, the quintessence of feminine expres- 
-^^sibiluinHter cmnpanions (for she was surrounded by several 
^^^oiPfcJttjHJJwn sex) were excited into smiles by the view of 
•^'Otiriqpttrty, whose appearance seasickness, and a night 
^*'^^p&M on' board the packet, had rendered very squalid ; 
Awill;n«iBt the vessel advanced, they advanced also,^to be 
* close to the landing of so singular a set. Each had her pro* 
•*^4e\iiw;^ hy whose sid.e she tripped with a conscious short- 
rt'>iie^s»0f'Sl'^p4 a soliciting bend of her form,, balanced by a 
•^ Wvelycohpdence in her eyes and smiles. 
-r'Ai^ Bul^the-most impressive feature of the crowd before usj. 
<f'>awftJthJit^hich most struck us with a sense of novelty and 
'fi^intdre^t, was its military aspect. Almost every man had 
d4is«^ilie;jiwiication of the military profession about his person^ 
*^tfdfficikhMo denote that he had been engaged in war ; at 
'^tiiidJldBme time, there was a self-willed variety in the dress. 



1^816.] Scoit's Visit to Paris. f^^ 

* of each, which had a very unpleasant effect^ iq2^rv[};}^^,fis 
' it prevented us from recognizing that siamped',fis^$l!if{fip€ 

* of legitimacy as an armed force^ which is in^jjrejs^j^ej^ipa 

* the aspect of British troops. We could scarce j^/^iipj^^jje, 
^ that the dark visaged beings, some in long, Io£^^e.}|^i;e|at 
^ coats, some in jackets, some in cocked bats, sonj^j|i],f(^jipd 

* ones, some in caps, who darted ^t us keen look^.pf ;^,^li[^|9fjr 

* over-clouded cast^ had ever belonged to regimeijjts, p^^f.aj^^j 

* controlled, and lawful ;— -thej seemed, rather,^ti^^^g* 
^ ments of brokei>up ganga, brave, dextrous, »]jq| i^^^fff^f 
^ but unpriiicipled, and unrestrained-. Much of jl^^]^ j^f|^9 

* larjty and angriness of appearance^ was douhtleSj^^^^c^^^^n? 

* ed by the great disbandment of the army that h^f}ju^^|i^'» 

* en place^ The disbanded had no call to obserj^e tfjij^^if^^ 
■* ties of military discipline, although they still re^ljf^m^f^f^^f^h 

* parts of their military uniform as they found cony:^^Li^^t« 

* They had not then either pursuits to occupy^ t}ipi^^tif|:jje> 

* or even prospects to keep up their hopes ; thejj^ s]l'ill,,J9ii^ff'j 

* ed about in idleness, although their pay had be^n ^^opp^l^^; 

* and disappointment and necessHl ty threw into th^^|fjM;<i^^.An 

* expression deeper than that of irritation, — appijQ^^|^\ng^^p 

* fact, to the indications of indiscriminate ^i^^; ih|J^^r]<{f^ 

* hatred. They carried about with them in tl(»^iv^^|f^^x]^Q 
' branded characteristicks of forlorn men^ ^'^^^^^' i^t^r^ts 
^ and habits opposed them to the peace of mankind ;—(][)enL 

* who would cry with the desperate Constance,^,! j j'^^i j^^^^j , 

" War ! war! no peace ! peace is to me a war !", *' !i '. 

* When a Margate hoy evacuates her cargo, tfe^^fcrdtwd^rf 

* the pier is usually considerable, but how diffeifentiii'ifi^ 

* general aspect from that which now presented- Hsdlf > iAt 

* the English watering-plac6, the arriving pasi^ebgars- fiwd 

* collected to receive them> snug mercantile physiogHomiel^,* 
^ countenances indicating a settled and comfor table. nKxIeiof 

* living, unmarked by irritation or alarm^ — and aikidd^dtitatsy 

* independence of manner, which by those who^ do^hot>'pd«- 
< sessa good deal of knowledge of the nicer traits of cbarac-' 

* ter, is likely to* be taken for insolence. In « the - Frettch' 

* crowd, on the contrary, vivacity is every whtAe'^pM-' 

* rent: — the soldiers are vivaciously surly ; tho4iidie8»>^iW-* 

* cioQsly charming ; the attendant-porters and tnistepfiitor 

..li io jllir.3rl * 



404 SeoWs Visit to Pari$. fMarcb, 

hotels vivaciously solicitoos ; the common people viva- 
ciouslj observant and assiduous. " Permit me to have 
the honour to carry little My Lord up the ladder," said a 
fellow with a rightcap on his head, and a ragged Jacket on 
his back, at the same time snatching up a little boy who 
stood timidly in his mother's hand on the deck. He, and 
three others, followed the party to the hotel, and stood 
silently in the room. An English gentleman, anxious to 
make his essay, and thinking that on these persons he 
might safely try his skill, addressed them in terms of ob- 
sequiousness, which he intended to rival the French in 
their own country. " To what were he ami his friends in- 
debted for the favour of the present visit V* The spokes- 
man of the set replied, that Messieurs, pointing to the three 
behind, and himself, had been so forfunate as to assist the 
landing of the bouniiful English, and they c<raved the hon* 
our of being remembered for their services. *• B«t why,' 
rejoined the Englishman, "follow us all the way here ; 
why not demand your recompense at the vessel?" — It 
would have been most impolite in poor people like us to 
have forced ourselves on your notice in the street," was 
the cunning answer, which could only be handsomely re- 
warded by a donation of several francs. 

* We entered the hotel with our eyes springing out be- 
fore our steps, on the alert to detect curiosities. The 
host led the way, talking such English, that we were oblig- 
ed to beg he would be intelligible to Englishmen bj speak- 
ing French. A hasty glance, as we passed the kitchen, 
gave us a glimpse of a man-cook, who gratified lis exces- 
sively, being exactly what Hogarth has represented, as a 
specimen of the tribe, in the famous picture of the Gates 
of Calais : — indications of soups and stews were abundant ; 
and th^ female servants, in " fancifully wild costume," 
took their stations within view, their faces all sparkling 
and ttpy as we say of spruce beer. 

* The room into which we were shewn, gave strong evi- 
dence that we were not in England It would have been 
line and elegant, if it had not been out of repair, and dirty. 
Glasses of a size which we never see in our country, but 
in the houses of persons of fortune, hung on the cheerless 
white walls, in frames, the gilding of which was mostly worn 
off. A magnificent marble chimney-piece, and a superb 
hearth of the same, were by no means in harmony with 



1816.] ScoWs Visii to Paris. 405 

* a naked brick*flooF. Wash-hand basins stood on tables 
' that had been superb in gold, and were still curious in 

* carving. After our vo^^age, several operations conducive 

* to personal comfort were necessar)^ ; these, such as wash- 
' ing, shavingy combing, &c. were all to be performed, by 

* all the part^, in the room devoted to breakfast. But the 
' breakfast afterwards was good, the host and the waiters 

* were civil ; and their guests, in the heartiness and fresh- 

* ness of their feelings, found everj thing, however strange 

* and even incommodious, a source, of amusement and pleas- 

* ure.* 

The description here of the feelings on first seeing a 
strange country, is lively and natural. When he comes 
to the portrait of the military aspect of the crowd, 
which had nothing in it of ^^ that stamped assurance of 
legitimacy as an armed force^ which is impressed on the 
aspect'of British troops ;" the crude absurdity both in style 
and reasoning of the newspaper editor, appears. Suppose 
a Frenchman had been at Pbrtmouth or Chatham when 
three or four ships were paid off, and the officers and crews 
discharged without much prospect of employment, to seek 
their fortune in their undress costume ; he would have 
been very ridiculous if he had, in disliking their lookS| 
began to talk about the stamped assurance of legitimacy^ 
in the Imperial guard. 

The remarks on the uninhabited, and ruinous, decayed 
mansions that he met with on the road, would naturally 
strike an Englishman, as such an appearance in the country 
in England is extremely uncommon. This is one of the' 
prominent marks of the revolution. 

* The general aspect of the country between the coast 

* and the capital of France, especially that part of it nearest 
' the former, gives the idea of a kingdom that has suffered ; 

* that has been reduced from what it was to what it is. It 

* is apparent that something has happened to it, which has 

* not only stopped improvement, but actually removed its 
' condition downwards. Many of the Chateaus are in 

* ruins ; others are inhabited by the poor, whose children 
' were to be seen playing in roofless and windowless sum- 
' mer-houses, standing in desolate gardens, which give an 

* affecting token that calamity has befallen the original pbs- 



4tlft ScoWm Visit lo Paris. [Marcls 

' 8es9ors. There is something infinitelj more melancholy 
^ in the appearance of that land, the capacities of which are 
' superiour to the state 4>f its inhabitants, than of that where 

* the people are evidently cramped and depressed bj the 
' deficiencies of nature, and in the general absence of means. 

* It is more pitiabl# to see the human bodj falling awaj 

* from its coverings, than incommoded by overgrowing 
^ them. France, in that part of it through which I travelled, 
' is full of signs that 'disorganization and destruction have 
' been at work. Neglected avenues, unemployed out* 
' houses, unappropriated means of various kinds, all tend to 

* shew that the population has been reduced in circum- 

* stances as well as in numbers. Large houses bj the road 

* side are almost deserted ; and their few occupiers are of 

* so mean and miserable a description, that it is evident 

* they must have been thrown into their present places by 

* some violence, that has removed the natural owners from 

* their proper spheres, and filled their situations with those 
*-who are incompetent to discharge their functions towards 
' society. The consequence is, a general appearance of 

* impoverishment and unsuitableness. To judge from such 
^ hasty observation, as passing along the roads and through 
^ the towns would permit, I should certainly say that men 

* were few in this part of the country of France ; but al- 

* though the fact is probable in itself, and affirmed on better 

* authority than I can offer in its support, 1 do not wish to 
' press my testimony as adding any thing to the evidence. 

* It is affirmed. Indeed, and by those who may be deemed 

* good authorities, that the agricultural condition of France 
'• is much improved since the Revolution ; — in no less a 

* ratio, it is said, than one-fifth. The fact is certainly not 
'improbable, nor at all inconsistent with what has been 

* stated. In the first place, agricultural science has made a 

* considerable progress in Europe generally within that 

* period, and this must have effected a considerable change 

* for the better in agricultural practice in France, as well 

* as elsewhere, had the old system continued : in the second, 

* it is not to be doubted that the breaking up of the large 
*• estates, consequent on the destruction of the nobility, 

* and the throwing of the land of France, in smaller distri- 

* butions, into the hands of persons of active habits, interest- 

* ed to render it as profitable as possible, would be followed 
^ by an improvement of cultivation. The question is^ 




Seolfs Visit to Paris. 






^whether this increased production of Ihc earth, wbkh 
tainly is in itself calculated Id be a soiirce of increi 

* national prosperity and individual happiness, has in reality 

* been BO to this kingdom ? I( does not follon as a matter of 
' course, that the grotvlh of grain, &c. tnusl render a people 

* affluent in their general condition ; for on this principle the 
' Inilians, whose country produces gold aud precious stones, 

* should be esteemed wealthier than the merchants of 
Leadenhall-streel. It does appear to me thai, ae ye|, 
France has not reaped much benefit from the alteration: 
.there seem to have beea counteracting causes hitherto at 
i-vork, thnarling the best tendencies of what haa resulted 
fron* hei- political changes, — but these changes have cer- 
itainly laid the fouudalion for much future good, and under 
& wise Buperin tendance it cannot be long of appearing. 

' I ought to mention, that these observations chiefly apply 
i1o the country between Dieppe and Rouen; Icissoflhe 
character in r|uesttoii is noliceabie between Rouen and 
Pai-is, — that is to say, it is less marked, but the general 
cast of feature is the same. Yet, although the condition 
of the people seemed low, I had soon liccasion to observe, 
that tbeir spirits and manners are of a lighter, and, accord- 
' ing to first appearances, of a more cordial quality than 
,lfaose of England. 1 had not travelled far before I 
presented with the sight of one of those rualick 
'dances, which almost inseparably connect themselves with 
our pleasantesl ideas of continental scenery, inasmuch a^ 
they are a very favourite topick of description in the most 
graceful fables, and most interesting narratives, that hare 
touched on continental customs. Perhaps the reality did 
Dol appear quite so swiramJDgJiy elegant, and elasticly 
joyous, as the fancy of the thing had been. la Sterne's 
account of the dancing grace after supper, tlie young men, 
if I recollect rightly, changed their sabots, or woodeir 
shoes, for others more neat in their look, and more adapted 
to lively motion; — but on the road to Rouen they retained' 
Ihem. Thei^e gave a heavy prancing air to the steps a€ 
(he lads; nor were the girls exactly the "creatures of the- 
element ;" which in imagination trip on velvet verdure, 
gayety that has nothing of the coarseness of mirth, 
tenderness that is purified from the grossnees of 
It was evident enough, that the gallantry of these 

ural dancers was not a whit more sentimental, than tvc End 



1| 

cer- ^^M 
reased ^^H| 
reality 'i 



40S ScoWs Visit to Paris. [Marcb, 

it in Ihe inn-yards of our great North-road, when .the pass- 
ing coachmen pay their devoirs to the expectant chamber- 
maids. Nevertheless the village dance of France, is a Very 
agreeable addition to the other rural objects, that salute the 
travelling stranger. The old folks sitting with an air of 
ruminating complacency by the side of the merry whirl, 
give a family look to the group ; and the youthful couples, 
all animation, notwithstanding the utter absence of eatables 
and drinkables — (which are absolutely necessary to even 
tolerable good humour when people meet in Kngland) — 
and all activity, notwithstanding the heaviness ef their 
wooden shoes, afford a very striking specimen of a nation, 
where the current of existence glides lightly on, — taking 
a brisker turn from its impediments, catching sparkles 
from its shallowness, and throwing a dazzling effect around 
its deepest falls, at the bottom of which it collects again 
to rush onward in an undiminished, and even more ardent 
stream. Personal deprivations, of most kinds, are, proba- 
bly, more numerous in France than in England ; but it is 
certain that sorrow and suffering do not present themselves 
so frequently to casual observation in the former country 
as in the latter. The aggravations of a harsh spirit are 
more common here than there : the necessitous with us 
are perpetually quarrelling and tormenting among them- 
selves. The husband spends his pittance ip getting drunk, 
and then tumbles home to beat his wretched, and not very 
resigned wife and children: cries and altercation are 
always heard near the dwellings of our miserables ; but the 
French poor are of a different temperament. T^ieir minds 
do not swell and chafe under the influence of severe cir- 
cumstances. This may be, and in my opinion is, because 
they want depth ; the storm that throws the Atlantick 
into a terrible commotion, only causes a^few ripples on the 
surface of a garden pond ; the mere pleasure-boat, of 
course, rides most safely and pleasantly on the latter, — 
while the ocean, with all its dangers and deformities, is 
the sphere for high enterprize, and affords the means for 
effecting the noblest purposes. 

' As it grew dark we passed through some small towns, 
in each of which we hurried by several lighted-up-houses 
of publick reception, where crowds of both sexes were 
assembled, apparently all courteousness and decorum,— 
regaling with such weak beverages as a very small beer, 



Scott's Visit to Paris. 



s of their ^^M 



and colfBe,— and griiUrying llae jiggiah propenailies 
luinils by llje suunil of Gddleu. The labouiing English- 
jnan has but llllle ilUpoailion lo regale hiiuself in Ihe cuin- 
patiy of wouitm, and is itlill less iiiclioed (o shew lo hia 
fei)iaie equals tliose foi'nis of deference and gullant alten- 
tions, which are parts of (he eslabljsheil system of genleel 
sociely. It nuuld seem as if he spurned cuttrtesy from 
lliRi> iu a biller sense of its inapplicability to ihe necessary 
coarseness of Lis condilion. The quiclc feeling of nhat 
is ridicuioui and unsuitable, which dtslinguishes our peo- 
ple, bus a Icndency to aiake tbem deride all forms that are 
stronijly conlrasled lo realities, and to throw away with 
a desperate disdain, all thai finery of manner thai is not 
ofa-pieve with their circumstances.' 

• TKe following sketch of a/iii! blood cockney on a week's 
'iail to Paris, is di-awn with humour und spirit. There were 
housaods of both sexes equally ignorant, who went over 

a a similar trip, and exasperated the haired of the French, 
Iready humiliated by disgrace, with their vitlgarily, Iheir 
iHolenceand rudenesis. In the vexatious exclamation of the 
'reach officer against the tranquillity of Europe, I shall be 
dnags a captain, we have an expression of French viva- 
Ily, it is true, hut of senlinient, that might have been heard 
rithoul crossing Ihe Alps, the Rhine, or the Channel. Mr. 
Icolt might have asked the subalterns of the six hundred 
enerals in the English army, of Ihe myriads of CaptaioB 
pd Lieutenants in the British navy, and the vast majority 
f them would have sighed al the tranquillity of Europe, 
lut the English have been so much in Ihe habit of allribut- 

5 all the ambition, all Ihe turbulence, all the love of war 
their enemies ; that they never think of any similar pas- 
s among Ihemselves. It is Ihe cuiae of Europe, Ihat 
be miJitary spirit, and the military interest is wholly pre- 
bminanf in every country but England; and it is only 
litigated there, by the resources which their innumerable 
olonies and their commerce adord them, to employ the 
issalisfied of the disbanded professions. 

' The chances of travelling threw amongst onr parly 

I young English shopkeeper, who had taken il into his 
bead lo pay a visit to Pans of one week's duration. He 
oiuel, he said, be back to business by I\londay, for the 

Vol, 11. No. 6. 52 



I, 

I 



I 



410 SeoWs Visit to Paris. [MarcB, 

basfling (irae was coining on. He knew not one word of 
the French language, nor a single individual in the French 
capital : his dajs and nights had been devoted, not to 
Belles-Lettresy but to the ledger; yet he was deleroained 
to see for himself what was fine in the Louvre. This, was 
Ihe great object of his expedition, and it was disappoint- 
ed, — for tlie Louvre was shut against the public when he 
arrived, and he did not stay long enough to enable us to 
fulfil our promise of procuring him a permission to be ad- 
mitted. He was an excellent national specimen, of faults 
as well as of good qualities, — and furnished sooie amusing 
contrasts on the road ; so that his introduction here will 
probably be held very excusable. Never were instinctive 
curiosity, personal confidence, and regardless intrepidity, 
more conspicuous than in the travels of this personage. 
He knew but one side of every question, and be was as 
positive as if he had ^pent his life in impartial examina* 
tion ; he had provided for nothing, but he was quite sure 
of finding himself comfortable in every thing. He had 
not procured a passport, for he was certain passports were 
all nonsense, — they would never dare to stop an English- 
man ; one could travel all over England without a pass- 
port. He had no letter of credit, or French money of 
any kind ; but he had plenty of bank-notes, and he would 
like to see a Frenchman refuse a Bank of England note ! 
Of course he was exposed to many difficulties, which, had 
he been alone, he would have found very serious ; but he 
treated them all with the utmost carelessness, and attri- 
buted them to the awkwardness, and ignorance of the peo- 
ple amongst whom he had come. 

* The first occurrence that a little shook his notion, that 
an Englishman might stride like a superiour being over 
France, just as he pleased, attending to none of its cus- 
toms or rules, and treated with respectful submission by 
its inhabitants, — was the entrance of a young French dra- 
goon officer, of a fine commanding figure, and authoritative 
expression of face, into the Diligence. Our shopkeeper 
saluted him with just such a look of familiar examination, 
as that with which Sir Joseph Bankes would regard an in- 
habitant of a South Sea island on his first visit to Soho 
square : but there was a checking haughtiness in the re- 
turned glances, that soon had its influence on the spirits 
and behaviour of our countryman. The soldieri it was 



1816.] ScoWs VisU to ParU. 411 

easj to see, had do feeling of partiality towards the fo- 
reigners he had accidentally joined : and he soon explain- 
ed the state of his mind in this respect, by pulling out of 
his pocket a snuff-box, on the top of which there was a 
beautiful portrait of Napoleon in enamel. He carried his 
devotion so far, as to bear about his person another portrait 
of the same individual suspended by a black ribbon, worn 
round his neck. He was evidently a gentleman, and was 
the first we had seen in France who bore that assurance in 
his external appearance : this circumstance I believe re- 
pressed our companion, far more than the fierce sword and 
fiercer looks of the stranger. Besides, all that our travel- 
ler had read in his country's newspapers of that monster 
Buonaparte, rushed into his mind, and to have before his 
eyes, and actually touching his knees, a man who wore the 
pictures of such a wretch, who clearly regretted his down- 
fall, and who had most probably taken a part in his dread- 
ful deeds, quite bewildered the comprehension, and over- 
powered the senses of the Englishman. He probably 
would not have felt more alarmed or horror-struck if Doc- 
tor Faustus, immediately after making over his soul to the 
Devil, had sat down within six inches of him ; or if one of 
those human beings who float down the Ganges, devouring 
corpses, had come reeking from such a repast to breathe 
in his face. 

* The officer resisted conversation with more firmness 
than is usual in France : it generally happens there that 
sulkiness |pon gives way to loquacity, but our military 
companion cut off the approaches to his sentiments, and 
shut himself up in almost total incommunicativeness. 
Once only he made an observation which bore on the state 
of public k affairs ; — and it was perfectly explanatory of 
the whole system of his thinking — its causes as well as its 
condition. Something was said to convey a civil compli- 
ment to France, in an expression of satisfaction that she 
was now open to the visits of Englishmen, and a hope was 
added, that this pleasant intercourse might last, and the 
tranquillity of Europe remain uninterrupted. — The remark 
was not addressed to the officer, but he replied to it, evi* 
dently under a strong impulse. " Very good, Gentle- 
men, — this tranquillity of Europe is a fine thing, — but will 
it not keep me '* always a Captain .^'* Toujour s Capi- 
tainej was the emphatic conclusion of this sudden burst 
from taciturqity. 



412 ScoWs Visit to Paris. [March, 

* lie did not long continue with us, and the traveller of a 
week looked after him as he descended ihe steps of the tc- 
hicle, as a man loots afler the smoke of a piece of artillery, 
that has suddenly gone off near him, and startled him more 
through the influence of surprise than of fear. Our coun- 
tryman withdrew his looks slowly from the disappearing 
object of his astonishment, and then fixed his eyes on 
ours, as if to say — " Well this is somethings however P* 
To those of us who had spoken to the Frenchman, he ad- 
dressed himself with that sort of admiring curiosity for in- 
formation, which the crowd, who visit a menagerie of wild 
beasts, shew towards the man who dare put his hand into 
the lion's mouth, and venture within reach of the tiger b 
paw, << Did he really, then, like Buonaparte?"—" Had he 
been at Moscow ?" — « Was he likely to rebel against 
Louis the Eighteedth ?" 

* But this serious surprise over, there was something in- 
discribably droll in the easy scorn, with which the person 
in question encountered all the novelties that the roads of 
France presented, — except indeed the novelties of the ta- 
ble, against which he seriously protested, and for some 
time maintained a very determined resistance, repulsing 
from him fricaseed pullets and stewed veal, with a haughty 
disdain, until be was subdued by hunger, as many other 
independent spirits have been before him. From the cups, 
too, in which coffee was served up, he shrunk a little at 
first, in as much as they struck him as being very like 
those that hold pomatum in England : but, «rttb all these 
prejudices, there was an apparent determination about him 
to see and think for himself, which denoted an active and 
not a weak mind : it seemed, from his manner, as if be 
felt it due to his country, while he was absent from her, to 
laugh at, or bbuse everj' thing that differed from her cus- 
toms, but that he would after his return, ponder upon 
what he had seen in a more impartial spirit than that in 
which he had observed.' 

The following extracts contain some very just remarks 
on the appearance of the streets aud squares of Paris. 

* We have an English comedy — (not a very good one)— 
« in which a worthy London citizen who has been led into 
< Walos, professes the utmost astonishment that any one can 



/ 



1816.] ScoWs Visit to Paris. 413 

* see beauty in black and rough-looking hilk, with torrnniS 

* impeded by stones, and rushing between irregular banks, 

* falling down their sides. He appeals to the smooth and 

* level mall, and the carefully preserved canal of St. James's 

* Park, which he says are called fine by good judges, to 

* prove that their immediate opposites must be det'ormities. 

* My readers, therefore, who are checking this account of 

* Paris by their own notions, formed on the spot of observa- 

* tion, must not even be surprised, far less angry, if they 

* find that I totally dissent from the statements they have 

* been giving to their friends. I met with many English 

* there, who could see nothing but that the streets were 

* narrow and dirty, and that the fronts of the houses wanted 

* white-washing, their stairs scouring, and their doors scrap- 

* ing and scrubbing. Agreeing with all this, and granting the 

* comfort and respectability accruing from these observan- 

* ces, I must nevertheless pronounce Paris to be a most mag- 

* nificent place. The views which it presents are of the 
' most touching and grand kind ; its appearances are inter- 

* esting beyond any thing I could before have fancied. 

* The chief reason of this isi that character is indicated by 

* almost every surface. A system of things, calculated, 

* with reference to the whole, to produce the greatest ag- 

* gregate amount of convenience and completeness of every 

< kind, fames down and restrains the manifestations of indi- 

< vidual peculiarities. This prevails much more in England 

< than in France, — and more in London than in Paris. The 
^ consequence is, that, in the English capital, your ideas 
^ and feelings are less frequently and forcibly excited than 

* in the French. 

* The first sally forth of a stranger in Paris, will probably 
' bring him almost immediately on theBoulevarde, and here 

* he will be forcibly struck by a mass of novelty. The 

* Boulevarde goes round Paris, and was originally its boun» 

* dary, but the extension of the city has, in many places, 

* rendered it central, and it is so in the most fashionable 

* and frequented quarters, namely, those nearest the palaces 

* and the theatres. It is, in fact, now, a superb street of 

* great breadth, lined on each side with trees, between 
' which and the houses, gravelled walks have been made for 

* the foot passengers. The general effect here is very 

* iBnc. The eye cannot reach to any termination of the 
< BoaicTarde ; and in the distance^ the trees according to 



\ 



414 Scott's VisU to Paris. [Marcbi 

* the laws of perspective, appear (o unite their branches in 

* an arch, overshadowing with their foliage the hurrying 

* groupea of men, and women, and horses, and carts, and 
' carriages, that are perpetually streaming to and fro be- 

* neath. By moonlight this forms a very grand picture, 

* and suggests a confession, that London has nothing so fine 

* in this way. 

* The best streets of the English metropolis, owe their 

* beauty, in our estimation, to their possessing those quali- 
' ties that raise ideas of opulence, comfort, reasonableness, 

* and general utility : the Parisian Boulevarde is interesting 
^ in strong contrasts, picturesque in inconsistencies, grand 

* in size, and overpowering through animation. The houses 
' rise to twice the height of ours; they are of stone, and 

* their architecture is generally elaborate. There appear 

* here no signs of building rows by contract with the 

* brick-layers, nor any necessity for prescribing by a. law, 

* what shall be the thickness of a party wall. Turn your 

* eyes whichsoever way you will, they are met by broad 

* fronts, decorated with frieses, cornices, pillars, pilasters, 

* and balconies, and rising to a height that to a stranger 

* seems stupendous. The chimneys, as the end of a mass 
' of buildings presents itseljT, seem clustered turrets and 

* battlements. The streets that open from the Boulevarde, 

* appear to dart into a peopled and swarming confusion and 

* uncertainty ; they promise, as it were, io lead to some- 

* thing which cannot be foretold from their entrance, instead 
' of being, what all the principal streets are in London, self- 

* intimators, that they are lines of receptacles for trade and pro- 

< perty, and regular domestick life. This character of the 
« French streets arises from their narrowness, as contrasted 

* with the height of the massive houses on each side, and other 

< assemblages together of features, which, in England, are 
« seldom or never seen near each other. Thus, a grand 

< gateway would prepare the English visiter for the mansion 

< of a family of rank, were it not that the court to which it 

< leads, is filled with litter and dirt, that the doors are open 

< and filthy, and the persons who appear around them, ill- 

< dressed and in every way unsuitable. Has the house, then, 

< been deserted by its original magnificence, and fallen, in a 
i ruined state, into the possession of the needy, who herd ui 

< its dilapidated rooms ? No, not so exactly ; for a carriage 

< waits to receive the inmate of the first floor, — ^a Marquis in 






\- \ 



1816.] ScoW8 Visit to Paris. 415 V^ 

* an old coat, silk stockiDgs, and a cross ; — a cabriolet, (or one 

* horse chaise) is in attendance for the occupier of the se- 

* cond, — a Colonel in a coloured waistcoat and a regimental 

* coat ; — from the third, a person walks down in non-descript 

* attire, which, however, indicates him to* belong mostly to 

* the military class, although, perhaps, at that moment, neither 
' his profession nor his rank could be very easily defined ; — 
' a milliner, with a band-box, trips from the fourth, — and 
^ some miserable dependant on the chances of the day, de- 

* scends from the fifth.' 



* Pursuing our walk to the first object of a stranger's in- 

* terest and curiosity, the palaces of the Louvre and the 

* Tuilleries, we arrive, by going along the wall of the latter, 

* at thie Place Louis Quinze, to which I would advise every 

* traveller to make his way at once, avoiding any earlier 

* view of the palaces, that he may be struck by a most ex- 

< traordinary burst of sumptuous decoration, combining the 

* beauties and magnificence of architecture, sculpture, and 

* gardening, and forming an almost overpowering cotip d'03t7. 

* The Place Louis Quinze is a large open circular space, 
' paved with great neatness, which interposes between the 
' garden of the Tuilleries, and the plantation of the Champs 
' Elys6es. The central avenues of both these run into 

< opposite sides of this place. Its back is formed by the 

< dashing colonnade of the Garde Meuble, whose architect, 

< Gabriel, had in view, it is said, to rival Terrault's famous 
' colonnade of the Louvre. In front is the Pont Louis 

< Seize, one of the finest in Paris, with the elegant face of 
' the Palais Bourbon elevated beyond it, and looking towards 

* you in calm grandeur and well-proportioned beauty ; 
^ its style of architecture being that which is well described 

* by Dry den; — 

** And all below is strength, and all above is grace.** 

' A line of elegant building runs down from this Palace 
' along the river Seine, of which the Hotel de Salm, lately 

* the Palace de la Legion d'Honneur, is partly seen. The 
' huge gilded dome of the Invalids rises behind, and on the 

* other side, the clustered houses and towers of the most 
^ peopled parts of Paris, form themselves into castellated 

* masses* 



416 Scolt^s Visit to Paris. [March, 

* The flpccfator after the confusion of his first admiration 
' is over, will find the spot well calculated for minute ex- 
' aminalion. A broad gravelled alley leads down to the 

* palace of the Tuilleries, through a large and gorgeous gar- 

* den, laid out according to the French taste, — full of par- 

* terres, and basins, and statues, — bas<reliefs, urus, afid 
^ whatever is entitled rer/il, — straight walks and tricks in 

* water. The front of this residence of the ruonarchs of 
^ France, which has been the scene of so many interesting 

* events, and which still bears the marks of the cailnofi balls 
^of the memorable 10th of August, extends its enormous 
' length completely across the ground, and presents to the 

* eye, through the thin taper trees, a broken mass of small 

* windows, unequal stories, frittered compartments, pettj 
^ pilasters, and all that may be termed the freaks and nick- 

* nacks of architecture. Flitting forms of gay promenaders, 
' sidle and shift among the branches, and rows of readers of 
^ newspapers, seated on hired chairs, keep their places 
' among the marble Atalantas, Apollos, Daphnes, and 

* Satyrs. 

* Two grand winged horses, by Coizevoix, give grace 
^ and nobleness to the gate which opens from this garden 
' into the Place Ijouis Quinze ; and, immediately opposite, 
^ the entrance to the Champs Elys6es is dignified and 

* adorned by two fine groupes of horses in mairble by N. 

* Couston, which were brought here when Marly was dis- 
' mantled by the Revolutionists. It is now that the Eng- 

* lishman of taste and sensibility begins to feel the impces- 
' sion, novel to him, which the sublime productions of sculp- 
^ ture occasion, when interspersed throughout the publick 

* situations of a city, — mingling the enthusiastick admiration 
' excited by fine art, with the sober and common reflections 

< suggested by publick views. It is now he begins to have 
' a clearer notion, a more lively sense than he ever before 

* experienced, of the effulgence of those ancient days, when 

* the girls of Athens, carrying water on their heads in ele- 

* gant vases, from the fountains to their homes, ascended 
^ magnificent flights of white marble steps, with the stupen- 

* dous symmetry of the Parthenon rising before them, and 

* saw there, and on every side, a vast and silent congrega- 
^ tion of the forms of colossal and superhuman beauty, 

* fraught with the soul of poetry. Paris is still Ar from 

< equalling Athens ; but it gives an idea of what the glories 






18 16.) acol^B Visit to Paris. 411 

*of (be latter were, — and this is more than can be said for 
* London.' 

We have selected Ihe following remarks on the sjsteni 
of Buonaparte, as containing many spirited and just obser^ 
Tations. The harsh terms he makes use of, brought to our 
minds an expression in a letter, that has lately appeared In 
the newspapers, from an eminent personage, now in retire- 
ment, in which he speaks of Buonaparte's " improper con- 
duct." Now it can easily be conceived, that a superiour 
mind should be unwilling to make use of harsh epithets in 
speaking of fallen grandeur, or adopt that railing, poissarde 
style, which the indignation of mankind has naturally led 
them into using. In thi^ case, why qualify his " conduct" 
at all ? If an epithet was to be added, we invoke the manes 
of Johnson, Sheridan, Perry and the rest, to say if there 
was no other term more suitable. It reminds us of a person 
who remarked, that his conduct in burning American ships 
and confiscating American property, in shooting the Duke 
D'Eughein, in refusing to allow the Duke of Brunswick to 
be buried with his ancestors, in the invasion of Spain, and 
the kidnapping of Ferdinand, had been extremely indelicate. 

^ From all I have said of the French character and coh- 
dition, it will be seen that I4iave the worst idea of their so- 
cial system, as it is at present constituted. It seems to me to 
be without foundation or compactness. — There are no ge- 
nerally recognized principles in the public mind, — there 
are no great bodies to give gravity, and steadiness, and 
impetns to the state, — there are no respected names rn 
France to lead opinion, to collect the national strength un- 
der legitimate banners in behalf of honourable purposes. 
There is, to be sure, much scattered talent and individual 
enjoyment, and there are the principal materials of great- 
ness ^o be found amongst this most singular people, — but 
ihey are loose, floating, andunarranged. This, it will be 
observed, is conceding them the ppssessidn of valuable 
capacities ; but, whatever may be the final result, their 
vanity, which lias been the chief cause of the calamities 
they have suffered themselves, and of those they ha.ve in- 
flicted on all around them, is at present unsupported by 
their condition. From the revolution they might have de- 
rived the greatest benefits : it broke up wkat depressed 

Vol. II. Nq. f. 53 V 






418 Scott's VisU ta PariJs. [Marcl^ 

and restrained the natiooal energies, it gave plaj to Ihe: 
national circulations, — it braced the public nerves^ and 
put animating objects in the public view. But their vanitj 
made them the dupes of a cold and crafty tyrant) who haft 
utterly demoralized them, and who, by addressing himself 
exclusively to their besetting faults, has increased them, 
tenfold. 

^ The imperial influence raised itself on the frailties of 
the French character, as displayed under the sway of (he 
old race of Kings. Its lani^uage was that of bombast and 
falsehood, — it flattered the conceitedness, that it might 
make a prey of the rights of the people, — it corrupted^ 
their hearts that it might employ their hands, — and taught 
them to look, as before, to the magnificence of the throne,^ 
as a sufficient compensation for all they lost of respecta- 
bility as subjects, and for all they violMed of good faith 
towards the community of mankind. 

* The profligate system of Buonaparte required instru- 
ments after its own character ; and, with unexampled abi- 
lity and villainy, he fashioned the people to suit his views. 
The youth of France have been trained up in his schools,^ 
and he has thus left them fit only for his purposes. The 
great interest of France, as be has left it, is the military 
interest, and this is thwarted and injured by every mea^ 
sure that tends to promote the peace and substantial im- 

[>rovemeDt of h4imanity. The air of the streets and pub- 
ic places of Paris is sufiicient to impress this truth wiih 
a melancholy force, and to inspire fears of future distur-^ 
bances. Walking one day in the Jardin des Plantes, I 
fell into conversation with a young Frenchman :.his friends 
had destined him for the medical profession, but the con^ 
scription had seized him at an early age, and dragged him 
from his studies, — and now the peace had left him, at 
twenty-five, ignorant and unpovided. He spoke of the 
Bourbons with bitterness, and of Buonaparte with zealous 
attachment. The family to which he belonged, having 
been crossed in therr original intentions as to his destina- 
tion, united their feelings with his, and saw him, with 
regret, deprived of opportunities of thriving in the way of 
life to which he had been devoted. 

* Speaking from what 1 observed myself, I would say, that 
the largest part of the mass of public opinion in France 
was, from one cause, or other, in favour of Buonaparte. 



ScoWs Visit to Pans, 



419 



Th'ii appeared lo me certain, and il was equally so, that 

'' '9 tendency or opinion exisled in utter independence of 

lonour and principle, or rather in direct conlradicl'ion to 

" They would confess his worst faulla, and specify 

actions wbii'.ii he bad cauimilled, for which he merited 

• detestaiiun; aller which they would add, — "Ah, 

hat he was a great man !" Their affections were his. IS 

fver lh« Prencli have shewn constancy, it has been in 

iavaur of BiiaiKipaite. He was evidently best adapted 

I their dijpoairioiia. It is all nonsense, that we have 

Bieurd, about their gioaiiiog uiiiler him. He gave their 

'Boity objects and gialificaliona : he made themselves and 

pthers believe in liie i,\ofy of the French nation, — he 

iirought (hem pictures, he built them pulaces, be talked to 

^Ihem about destiny, and France, and empire, all in a 

J>realh. This Is the system of management which is sure 

Slo be successful with the people of whom I aro writing, 

K^nd by these means popularity may be enjoyed, white 

%,perfidy, vio ence, and cruelly, deslroy the public repilta- 

ylion, and the most valuable public properties. 

* The conscription was not considered in France, as so 
Flieavy an evil as we have beeu in the habit of conreiviflg 
-it, with our English notions. In tlie first place, the French 
' evidently want deep domestic feeling: a violent burst of 

* grief, succeeded in a few days by a viohfll burst of 

* langhler, is all thai can be expected from a people whose 
' domestic economy is of the nature 1 have described. 

* Home is the only nurse for ihe heart ; and home is disre- 
f garded in Paris. In the next place, the habits and viewi 
^of this people are military : parents have been in ihe ens- 

1 of looking to (he army as atfording a provision for 
E-their sons, and they seemed to me rather to grieve than 
f rejoice that Ihey bad go! them back. The great object 
jrof their exertions was lo pnM'.ine them new appointments, 
I. which would again remove ihem from their families. 

' The capacities of the French nation, however, I repeat, 
fare great. — The advanlnges of what is called a common 
I education, are universally dJiTnsed ; and a taste for reading, 
Kfor accomplishment, for all the embellishments of existence, 
(is a general characteristic. The peasants have it, — and 
' 'n almost as high a degree as the most cultivated persons. 
I The poorer orders, as 1 have already observed, are polished 
Lfar beyond the corresponding classes in England, and the 
•effect of their behaviour is extremely pleasing. One iB 



1 



I 



4M ScoWs risU to Paris. [March^ 

chiefly surprised by the propriety of their mode of speak-r 
ing : the ceremonies of courtesy, and the idiomatic phrases 
of politeness, proceeding from milk-women and carmen to 
each other, rather amaze an Englishman. The lowest 
persons touch their hats to each other in the streets. 
Two men, whom I observed playing at piquet in an open ve- 
getable shop, deported themselves towards each other with 
all the punctilio of two gentlemen of fashion. Their language 
too, frequently surprises you, as elevated far beyond their 
station. A washerwoman, describing a hot foggy day, 
said, — ** the fog poiired down like the breath of aflame P* 
The keeper of the Temple, speaking of some rough stones 
which Buonaparte had ordered to he brought there from 
Fontainbleau, said, — *< it is the chisel of many a day, thai 
has engraven those marks.*^ Walking along the quay one 
morning, I heard a woman who sold the crockery-ware 
that was displayed on the ground, instructing her daughter 
in the social duties of life. The practical part of her les- 
son was a caution not to encroach, as the girl had been 
doing with her cups and saucers, on her neighbour, a book? 
seller, whose volumes were also on the groond. M The 
great art of life,. ma ^I/e," said she, ^* is to do as much 
good for yourself as possible, provided you do no harm to 
your neighbour,'- 

* Yet even with regard to the common knowledge, which 
the common affairs of life require, it will be found, on a 
close observation, (hat they are wonderfully more unin- 
formed than (he brisk adroitness of their manners would 
at 6rst lead yon to imagine. It is very possible that you 
may see (he hostess of a CQun(ry inn, sea(ed under the 
vine at her door, reading Voltaire's Ilenriade, yet the 
same woman will pot be able to take twelve sous from a 
thirty sons piece, and return yoii the change. The middle 
and lower orders of Paris, are in (he lowest ^tate of igiwh 
ranee, as to actual facts and sound opinions. They know 
nothing of what passes beyond (he observation of (heir 
eyes, and may easily be deceived a| to (hat. Their 
judi^men(s are weak, in propor(ion as their impressions 
are lively. They may be induced to believe any thing (hat 
is mons(rons, and thus it is easy (o lead them to commit 
all sorts of monstrosi(ies. It was in this way that (he 
atrocides of the revoludon were perpetrated. No story 
f was tpo absurd to be credited by the people, — and each nef 



JBie.] ScoWs Visit to Paris. 421 

daj, brought^ in the shape of a ridiculous lie, an inducer 
ment to some horrible enormity. It is easy to see with 
what facility a people, thus distinguished by susceptibility 
and ignorance, may be duped into the extravagancies and 
errors which stain the modern history of France. Their 
vivacity is but the liveliness of credulous vanity, almost 
always exercising itself in hostility to duties and truths. 
A Frenchman will credit whatever you please to tell him, 
and commit whatever you please to direct, provided you 
in some measure connect your story and your command 
with the idea in his mind, that France is the only country 
worth naming in the world, and that he is, or may become, 
one of the most distinguished Frenchmen. A Parisian 
shopkeeper is likely enough to ask, whether in England 
we are not accustomed to have boxing matches in our 
drawing-rooms, and, in the same breath, descant on the 
glories of David*s last picture, and the scarcely inferiour 
excellence of Raphael's Transfiguration. 

* The standard then of manners, is high in France, — and 
the standard of their conversation is still higher, — but, in 
the substantials of knowledge and conduct, they are below 
both these. Further, their accomplishments and attain- 
ments are all carefully and exclusively adapted to have an 
effect on the society of the day and place,— which is 
society in its most contracted sense — this is their main, or 

rather their onIvo^jc^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^ inconsistent with what is 
most worthy of present respect, !o say nothing of what 
is most likely to secure the respect of futurity. 

* But a people with these lively notions, full of the amour 
propre, and whose multitudes catch inspiration from 
objects that, in other countries, have no influence but on a 
select few, cannot but form a nation of rapidity in action, 
of splendid appearances, of interest and of celebrity. And, 
under a good government, — one which should have no in- 
terest in flattering their faults, — and under which the ex- 
pression of«truth might be permitted to go forth, at free- 
dom to detect vanities and imperfections wherever they 
lurk, — whether in politics, in manners, in art, or in litera- 
ture, — they would bid fair to attain a pitch formidable tQ 
all competitors. Hitherto, however, they have but as- 
tounded JS'irope to their own shame and calamity. They 
are lamentably ignorant of what I may call the A, B, C, 
g{ moral rectitude. They have not fixed in their minds 



422 ScoWs Visit to Paris. [March, 

^ the few elementary principles, to which every action or 

* proposal might be at once referred, as to a certain test 
^ of its propriety. 1 have usually found that the most ab- 

* rupt, and even violent contradictions, were followed) in the 

< course of the stream of conversation, by an unguarded 

< admission of facts, which proved all that had been origi- 

* nally denied. A^^ainst the summing up, if they dislike its 

< tendency, they will stoutly protest, but will readily admit, 

* and even furnish particular pieces of evidence, that lead to 

< an unfavourable verdict. This inconsistency arises from 
i a looseness of knowledge, and slightness of feeling as to 
I right and wrong : — the cardinal points of morality are not 
« marked on their minds to guide their course. For want 
i of these, they often glory in their shame, and bewilder 
c themselves and others by admiring inconsistently, resent- 
f ing wrongfully, and submitting abjectly.' 

Some of his observations on the women of France, are 
just, and discover a keen observer ; others border a little on 
vulgar belief — the boudoir being devoted to voluptu- 
ousness and sacred against the intrusion of the husband, 
are quite in this style. The boudoir^ is a very small 
apartment belonging to every extensive suite of rooms. 
It is generally fitted up with exquisite taste and elegance, 
and may sometimes serve for voluptuous purposes, as 
well as a bed-chamber ; but it is generally a place where 
a lady receives two or three confidential friends, where they 
niay feel more snug and comfortable, as we should say, than 
in a large apartment. The author has introduced one or 
two particular anecdotes to draw from them general infer- 
ences, but this is a dangerous practice. Without quoting 
those we refer to, we may exemplify this, by one we heard 

from good authority. Lady the wife of a British 

Minister, who resided at Ihe Court of Versailles previous 
to the revolution, had a large family of ten fine children. 
Tiie Queen had heard so much of them, that she requested 
her to bring them all to the palace, that she might see them. 
She was flattered by this wish of the Queen, and on the 
appointed time went accompanied by them all, with bright 
eyes, ruddy cheeks, and curling hair, like a whole shop 
window of dolls. Thus attended, her heart fillcj with very 
pardonable maternal vanity ; her spirits were a little damped, 
on hearing, as she passed through the Ladies of Honours 



l»ie.:J. ScoWs rtsit to Paris. 425 

•DC of them in a disdainfoi whisper exclaim O f comme c* est 
€dchon d^avoir tant d^enfans I It is possible that this little 
cbiiUition of eovy, might have been characteristick of the 
ladies about the Courts but it would have been hard to have 
cited ity as a proof that all the women of France^ thought it 
disreputable to have a large family of children* 

^ The air of the French females, it must be acknowledg- 
^ ed, is full of a certain species of witchery ; but it is strong- 
*- ly marked by mannerism. lis secret seems to lie in mak-^ 
^ ing the external woman exclusively display the peculiari- 

* ties of her sex ; her looks, her turns, her whole manner 
*- of speaking and acting is sexual. The distinction between 

* male and female is never for a moment lost sight of by ei- 
^ tfaer. In England it frequently happens,, that a gentleman^ 
^ for some time addresses a lady in a way, that would leave 

* a person who should only hear the observations,^ but not 
^ see to whom they were directed, perfectly ignorant whcth- 
*- er the conversation were held with a man or a woman. But 
*■ this could scarcely ever happen in France ; thetourneur of 

* the phrase^ when a woman is spoken \o^ cannot be mistak- 

* en : it is modelled according to her peculiar instincts^ 
^charms, and weaknesses, and so is the carriage of hini^ 
^ who speaks to her. In this consists the politeness of the 
*' French to the softer sex, of which they boast ; but the 

* question is, whether it does not imply a stooping to, instead 
< of a raising towards ? Can women have any thing given 
'them in the shape of deference that can atone for the Ios» 

* of equality ? Is it humouring they are fond of? We hu- 

* mour a child and spoil it by so doing ; we humour the sick 
' and the weak ; we humour eccentricity and folly ; but we* 

* never humour sound sense and propriety. The first in- 
''stance of humouring had very unlucky consequences. 

*' Wouldst thou half hearkened to my words, and staid 

'* With me, as I besought thee, when that strange 

^ Desire of wandering this unhappy morn, 

** I know not whence, possessM thee ; we had then 

*' Remained still happy ; not, as now, despoiFd 

*^ Of all our good ; shamed, naked, miserable.*' 

Paradise Lostf book IX. 

* The women of Paris are entirely creatures of manage- 
^ ment and manner : — the chief business of society is left 
Mo them to transact ^^ a tradesman entrusts the concerhs 



424 ScolVs VisU to Paris. [Marclj, 

of his shop to his wife, — a geutleman asks no guests fo his 
house but with her permission. There is every where an 
affectation of placing every thing at the discretion and dis- 
posal of the females, — but it is still evident, that this em- 
pire is granted to their weakness, and they are thus taught 
to make a parade of their sexual peculiarities, that they 
may gain pampering and indulgence at the expense of their 
respectability. They are raised above their helpmates, 
as men and women raise children on high chairs, and help 
the young folks first to pudding. In this very preference 
there is an iiisult ; but there is worse degradation in the 
employment to which they are put. They are taught fo 
make the most of their influence as women, in order to 
gain for themselves and those connected with them, the 
mercenary ends which arise out of the com_petitions, haz- 
ards, desires, and necessities of daily life. The bad effect 
of this on the delicacy of their minds, requires no expc 
sure, and their artificial, active, adroit, and intriguing ha- 
bits, have, in fact, given to their physiognomies and man- 
ner, an acute, watching, attacking sort of air, which, how- 
ever powerful it may be in its way, is not the power which 
most properly belongs to woman, or that most exquisitely 
becomes her in its exercise. 

* The system of educating and training young women it 
France, is open to the most serious objections. Girls, in 
respectable life, are placed, as they grow up, under a strict 
surveillance : they are never entrusted beyond the eye of 
the mother or governess. If they are permitted to pay a 
visit to a female friend of the family, the hostess is sensi- 
ble she incurs the heaviest responsibility. The youthful 
guest must not sleep beyond the immediate superinten- 
dance of her entertainer ; a bed is made up for her in the 
cabinet of the lady of the house. She must not dance but 
with the partner selected by her friends ; she must not sit 
down with her partner after she has danced : — in short, 
strictness and guardianship are the substitutes for forma- 
tion of character, and, without paying any regard to the 
mind, the body is pampered and preserved for the accom- 
plishment of the future views of a mercenary and cold au- 
thority, that looks but to sordid interests, and is careless 
of virtue and of happiness. 
' This degrading system of watch and ward, is absolutely 
* necessary according to the habits of Paris, for they are 



I8l«.] ScoU'g Visit to Parie. 

' directly levelled againsl whatever would warrant 
' dence, in Ibe aense ofiiitegnlj' and honour in llie y 
' female mind. Muiliei-s will not, indeed, inslruci Ihtrir 
' daughters to intrigue alter they are inairied, — ;ind liie/ 

* will nol, probably, talk of their own licentious indulgeucea 

* before their daughters ; but (heir conversation wilb Iheir 
' iolifnaleg, in the hearing of iheir children, is sufficienlly 
' ioalruclire, Ihal connubial constancy ia in lillle estiiiialion, 
' and leas practice. Such a lady, they will say, speahing 
' of one who has a liusband and children, i% not now on leruia 

with that gentleman — that alTair is over long ago : — it is 
' now IVIonaieur 

* These breaches of nuptial fidelity, it ia affirmed, are less 
' univeraalal preHent than Ihey were before the revohilioii; 
' but, 1 believe, il ia doing no injustice fo the slate of Freut:h 

* morals lo say, that Ihey now constitute the majority of ca- 
' ses of conduct after wedlock in the genleel circles of Par- 
' i> : — before the revolution a case of posl-uuptial chastity 

* in these circles wus neither known nor expected. At pre- 

* sent, Ihe indulgence is managed with no needless display 

* of indecency; but it is perfectly well understood, both by 

* the husband and society, and Ihe indulging parly is not 

* BBverely treated by either. 

* [l is nol ihiiught an insult, in Paris, if a man, sitting 

* down by a niavried lady, immediately commences making 
. * lore to her. His language is divested of alt unnecessary 

* expticilneas ; but it has a sufficiently palpable tendency to 

* the laal favour that a woman can grant. Il is, in fact, a 
' mere matter of course almost, lo address a French married 

* lady in those terms of gHllaniry, which, in England, are 
'employed to females who.se persona are still disposable. 

* The woman to whom they are directed may nol be incHn- 
■ ed to listen to them, — she may be engaged at Ihe moment, 
' or the application may be disagreeable ; — but she never 

* thinks of reseiiling Ihe application as oflenslve. — In short, 

* a husband here cannot rationally calculate on hi^ wife's 

* 6delity, and 1 believe, very seldom does. If Ibe parties, 
' aflsT marriage, feel themselves very much attached to 

* each olher, Ibeir reciprocal tidelity is secured by a mutu- 
' al pledge on honour, which is added lo Ibe compact made 

* at the altar, as an extra obligation, not necessarily incltid- 
' ed in the original engagemenl. 

To). II. No. 6. 54 



"1 

conG- jH 
voone ■ 

I 



I 




426 



SicolCs Visit to Paris. 



[Marchi 



' In Paris, it is the regular business of parents to marrj 
their children ; the idea of the latter conducting so serious 
an affair for themselves, would shock every father and 
and mother in that capital. For this purpose, they an- 
nounce every where what portion they can afford to their 
son or daughter, and, without hesitation^ enquire of all 
persons whom they know, that have progeny of which a 
match may be made, what portions they intend to give. 
The most incessant attention is given to this grand affair, 
and a Parisian mother devotes a degree of industry, dex- 
terity, and frequently artifice, to effect the settlement of 
her children in the world, which no woman but a French 
woman could display, and which reflect much credit on 
her talents, although the view taken of the real interests of 
those for whom she concerns herself is far from a judicions 
one. 

* The sole object to which they direct their efforts is, 
to accomplish a match which may be advantageous to their 
child in worldly matters — namely, in point of fortune or 
connections. As these are things which have no sort of 
connection with inclination on either side, it sometimes 
happens that a marriage is agreed upon between the pa- 
rents, for some years before the girl's age will permit it to 
be consummated. A young lady of the highest rank, 
whose nuptials took place when I was in Paris, had been 
accustomed to say to her governess, who was an English- 
woman, — " They tell me I am to be married at fifteen : I 
wish I knew to whom ; — I dare say I shall like him, — don't 
you think I shall ?" Girlish feeling prompts this antici- 
pation of satisfaction, — the awful contract for life is hailed 
for no better reason than that it affords a prospect of es- 
caping from the irksome restraints that have been alrea- 
dy described, the commands of the parents are signified 
and obeyed, and two persons come together whom no im- 
pulse of their own has brought together, who can have no 
well founded confidence in each other, and whose minds 
are prepared before hand to give ready access to levity 
and inordinate desires. 

* After marriage, the wife, young, and uninstructed in mo- 
rals and duties, is at once emancipated from a state of 
severe restraint, and plunged into one of licentious liberty 
and unnatural power, — of which a tew of the features are, 
a luxurious Boudoir, full of couches and statues— ^separate 



tm 



8r.otfs Visit to Paris. 



457 



I 



i 



rooms, — a lover in every visilar, and llic cuitloms ol' 
■ociety opposed lo cruelly lo lovers. Il ts neeiKess lo 
' deduce consequenceB from these, — Iheir exislence iii suffi- 

* ciently ioforming. 
' The system of married life in France, ia one by which 

the lady eajoyH a sort of artificial auihority and influence, 
raiding tier lo appearance much above the claims of her 
■ex and relationship, but existing at (he expense of that 
cordial communicaiion and heartfelt, disinterested defer- 
ence, vhich distinguish unions Ibunded on a more judi- 
cious basis than that which 1 have been describing;. She 
is inatulled in various prerogatives Ihal looli flattering 
and desirable, but they are chiefly favourable to the dis- 
charge of funcrions, from which a true respect for her sex, 
cheiished by (he men, would entirely preserve her, and 
the enjoyment of gratifications which a proper self-re- 
i<pec[ on her own pari would prohibit her from partaking-, 
' The chief emblem and representation of Ihia condition 
of married women, is the Boudoir, ll is a temple of sepa- 
ration and luxury. It belongs to (he wife exclusively ; 
(he husband has neither property in it, nor power over it. 
If she were suspected of having a lover concealed nilhin 
its mysterious enclosure, that enclosure, nevertheless, 
must no) be violated. What I mean is, thai such is the 
good manners in France, and the man who disregards it is 
esteemed a brule, — an object of the general dislike and 
disgust of both sexes. The Boudoir is ihe aparlment, as 

* I have before observed, that is most commonly complete 
' in its elegance. The nursery, for the children, in the hou- 
' sea of families of rank, contrary to the custom in England, 
' is neglected, and crammed into some inconvenient corner ; 

* but the Boudoir for the mother, is rich in couches, in sta> 

* tues, in paintings, and flowers. It is a retreat in which 
' Ventia might be happy to reclme, and ia, in every respect, 

* calculated lo inspire the senlimenis which belong to the 

* devotion in which that goddess delights. 

. * One efiect of what I have been describing is, that, 
Famidst this general profligacy, the grosser features of 
P vice are not frequently seen. A woman who swerves 

* from her sex's point of honour in England, is aware that 
' she has comtnitted an unpardonable oSence, and Ihe coarse- 

* Hess of depravity ensues from the very consciousness of 
' the enormity of her crime. But It i^ very different in 



m 

I 
I 

I 



42B ScoU'e VisU to Paris. [Mtrcb, 

' France. A female there who has committed aduUerj, 

* regards herself, and is regarded by others, as not more 

* culpable fhan if she were a little too extravagant, or too 

* addicted to play, or rather fond of going from homer 

* Her mind, therefore, experiences little, if any alteratioD, 
' in consequence of the yiolation of her person : it is but 

< little, or rather not at all, worse than it was before. It 

* must be admitted, that this is a better state of dispositioB 
' and feeling, than usually exists in union with a disregard 

< of chastity in England, but how worthless is it as a gene- 

< ral standard of the female heart, — and is it not infinitely 

< better to meet with instances of gross depravity, as lUs- 
^ gusting exceptions to the general purity, than to find pari- 

* iy no where, and every where a dissoluteness, insulting 
' and confounding virtue by assuming the air of decency ? 

We close our extracts with the letter froni an Irishman of 
distinction, published in the Morning Chronicle, which ai 
was said of it, << was evidently the picture of one extreme, 
drawn by a masterly but incontinent hand." it is in reality 
an extravagant caricature in some parts, yet drawn with 
great spirit. We hope the author's ideas on spitting, may 
meet the sight of some of the class in our country, where 
this practice of expectoration is disgustingly common. Some 
of those promising young men, who think it an accomplish- 
ment to spit like a boatswain or a groom, may receive a salu- 
tary hint from it. 

* I fear war will soon unfold her tattered banners on the 
continent. This poor country is in a deplorable state — a 
ruined noblesse — a famished clergy — a state of smothered 
war between tfa^ upstarts and the restored — their finances 
most distressed — the military spirit diYided-~-the most op- 
posite opinions as to the lasting of the present form of 
things — every thing unhinged — yet I really sympathize 
wirh this worried, amiable, and perhaps contemptible peo- 
ple ; so full pf talent and vice — so frivolous, so inconstant 
and prone to change — so ferocious too in their fickleness ; 
about six revolutions within twenty years, and as fresh as 
ever for a new dance. 

* These strange vicissitudes of man draw tears, but they 
also teach wisdom. I never found my mind so completely 
a magick lantern — such a rapid succession of disjointed 




I 



Btlft} Scott's Visits to Paris. 

imageB — the past, lh«s present, the fiilure posBibly, One 
ou^lil not to be faasly in lakJug up bad iuiprese'ions, and I 
Deed aot say that three weeks can give but liltle room 
for obaervalion ; but from what 1 do see and learn from 
others, who have seen long and deeply, I have conceived 
Ihe worst idea of social Paris. 

Efery thing on the aurrace is horrible; beastlinesses, 
vbicb with us do not exist. Tliey actually seem, in talk 
and practice, to cultivate a fainiliarily with nasliness. Jn 
every pubtick place they are spitting on your shoes, in 
your plate, almost in your mouth. Such community of 
Becretions is scarcely to be borne; then the contrast 
makes it worse, gaudiness more strililng by fillh; the 
splendid palace for the ruler, Ihe hovel and the sink for 
the ruled ; the tine box for the despot, the pigeon holes 
for the people ! And it strikes me with sadness, (hat the 
women can be liltle more than the figurantes, receiving 
a mock reverence merely to carry on the drama; but 
Beifher cherished nor respected. Hon vile the feeling 
and the taste that can degrade them from being the real 
directors and mistresses of man, to be the mere soubrettes 
of Bociety, gilded and smart, and dexterous and vicious. 
Even before the Revolution, manners were bad enough, 
but many causes since have rubbed off the gilding. The 
exile of the nobles, the succession of low men to power; 
and more than ail, the elevation of plebeian soldiers to high 
'rank, promoting, of course, their frulls to a station where 

* manners and morals were under theJr influence; and this 

* added to the horrible example set by Buonaparte himself 
f in his own inleriour. Add to this, what must have sent 
i down the contagion to the still lower orders — the conscTip- 
ftion — the wretched men, marrying without preference, 
f merely to avoid the army, and then running; into that army 
■* to escape their ill chosen partners. All these causes 
jf must have conspired to make a frightful carnage in man- 
I ncrs and morals loo. In short, I am persuaded, that a 

* single monster has done more to demoralize and uncivilize 
^ this country, than a century can repair. 

We cannot refrain from adding a few words on the slale 
vf France. One consoling reflection may be drawn from 
it, which is the superiority of a free government to a despol- 
"{■ffl. France, with her vast power, her talents and population, 
jind at one period she controlled all that Europe possessed 



I 



430 ScoWs Visit to Paris. [Mtrc]^ 

of both, was beaten at last, by a population of half the num- 
ber, distracted by (larties, and torn with civil dtssensions. 
That this was owing to the spirit of freedom in that country, 
and the energy it created, there can be no doubt. This 
invaluable principle France seems incapable of possessing, 
and whatever is the name of the Sovereign, Director, Em- 
perour or King, the government is paramount, and admits of 
no remonstrance or discussion. 

The misfortunes of France furnish the grandest political 
moral, that history can shew. They have accumulated to 
an equal amount with her usurpations, her injustice and vio- 
lence. In the infliction of retribution nothing was wanting ; 
the action and the scenes were even highly picturesque and 
dramatick. Her sufferings are indeed great; so much 
blood, so mdch treasure, and so much glory wasted. And 
when she is devastated, overthrown, her territory divided — 
faer enemies, and who can blame a just vengeance, demand 
from her the restoration of the plunder she had taken^ 
Pictures and statues and medals might be restored ; but the 
wealth, the spoils of so many nations, which with furious 
cries demanded its return — where was it? not in France, 
but, exploded, gone along with all her own substance, every 
iivre that the most grinding finance could extort or antici- 
pate, all had been sunk in the infernal vortex of war ; con- 
verted into gunpowder, and blown into air. 

In this state of misery, she sees her enemies triumphant 
on every point. England, after talking so feelingly, and so 
loudly about the ambition of France, as if she had none her- 
self ; after having in successful warfare drawn such vast 
sums from the capture and ruin of French, Dutch, and 
Spanish commerce, winds up with possessing all India, the 
finest colonies in the West-Indies ; and not content with 
Malta in the Mediterranean, takes the Greek islands under 
her protection. The ambition of France has been every 
where defeated, the ambition of England every where 
triumphant. Without colonies, without commerce, how is 
she to employ the dangerous, embittered, military spirits, 
that are spread over her territory. She is deprived of her 
former colonies, and prohibited forming new ones ; and yet 
the English travellers complain, that these men are turbu- 
lent, gloomy and ferocious. This is indeed realizing Peter 
Pindar's story of bienseance. 

What are we to hope for France ? she seems destined to 
the most wretched extremes. We know not where to syippa- 



t 



Scott's Visit to Paris. 

lise vrith her, there appears no medium. If we curse the 
Jiojice, the conscriplion, Ihe brulal, exclusive love of war in 
Buonaparte ; ie there no refuge, but in a governmeni which 
commences ils adminislraliou by suifering ihe massacre of 
Prolealanls, voning silver images to Ihe Virgin, and rQ^'using 
burial to an actress? — The conlinuance of such a ^ale of 
things is impossible I what the change wilt be, it is in vain to 1 
predict. " 

France may be considered inji state of permsnenl decline; 
perhaps the climax of her prosperity was about the middle 
of the last century. It is however a very difficult thing 
for contemporaries to designate epochs of this kind; in an 
oak tree, the branches and the trunk may exhibit the signs 
of vigour long after the heart is decayed. Some have 
even doubted whether the improvement in certain modern 
arts and sciences might not prevent the decline of modern 
nations. But the tendency to decay is inevitable in every 
thing of human construction. AVe have living examples of 
this ; the Italian stales, which grew up from Ihe roots of the 
Roman empire, were mere shrubs, and never produced aein- 
g!e stock of any vigour; and they are declined from what they 
were ; the mechanical progress of decay is even visible to the 
eye; they are now only the provinces, more or less dependent 
on the great powers of Europe. Spain too is a most remark- 
able instance, she is approaching the last stages of decay. 
A revolution in an old state like France, cannot restore 
youth ; it is a crisis, that in proportion to its violence will 
advance decrepitude. She may linger on for some ages, 
and have some bright momenis ; so it was with the Roman 
empire in the lirst centuries of our era. France has lost 
her colonies, her commercial i-iches, a large part of her ac- 
cumulation of permanent wealth ; her army is disorganized, 
Iier marine ruined, her finances embarrassed; it will take 
^tbree geueralions to replace her populaiion in a natural 
state; still worse than all Ihese, her ancient civil and reli- 
gious institutions sc.bverted from their very foundations; it 
is imposible to replace them; imperfect and even vicious as 
they were, they yet formed some substitute for the more 
perfect organization of free governments, which place so 
many gradations between the sovereign and the people, at 
once the organs, the checks, the supports of both : these 
France has lost, and the loss ia irretrievable; she is then 
doomed to a despotism, and the only hope she can have of 
internal security, is, in the energy of this depotts 



IlISCELLANEOUS AND LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. 

Wi UDdentand, that there has lately been received at Phila* 
delphtu, a collectioo of verj fioe instrumeDt», destined for the 
survey of the coast of the United States, and the determinatioB 
of the lengths of ditferent degrees of the meridian, comprehended 
nvithin our territorial limits. Among these instruments are two 
astronomical clocks, two transit instruments of five feet each, and 
ti^o sets of achromatick telescopes of three each, from six to four 
feet in length. These are intended for fixed observations, which 
according to the plan proposed were to be placed near the ex- 
treme parts of the coast. 

The other instruments are to be used on the survey ; several 
of them may also be used to good purpose in ao observatoij. 
They consist principally of the following, vis. six box and two 
pocket chronometers, one grand theodolite of two feet diaoieter, 
two theodolites of one foot each, two double repeating circles of 
eighteen inches, and six reflecting ones of ten inches diameter ; 
a part with stands, spirit levels, and artificial harizons, two survey- 
ing theodolites, two surveying compasses, two plane tables, six 
mountain barometers, and a very ingenious apparatus for meas- 
uring a base line with the utmost exactness, together tvlth the 
standard English and French measures. 

The above instruments are pronounced to be of the best con- 
struction, and of admirable workmanship : They were made by 
the first artists in London, under the immediate directi<Nii and so- 
perintendance of Mr. Hasler, a native of Switzerland, and some 
time since a professor in the United States Military Academy 
at West Point. Many of the instruments contain valuable im- 
provements, that were suggested by this very ingenious and 
learned gentleman. As a collection, they are thought to be very 
complete, and not inferiour, in any respect, to the best that have 
been used in the great national surveys of Europe. 

We are glad to see so good a beginning made in a work, that 
cannot fail to be particularly interesting to the science, as well as 
to the commerce of our country ; and it gives us pleasure to learn, 
that it is likely to be committed to the care of one, who in the 
opinion of the best judges, possesses not only the theoretical 
knowledge and practical skill,, but the ardour and perseverance 
also, which are necessary to so difiicult and arduous an under- 
taking. 

Mr. John Souter, bookseller. Pater Noster Row, London, pub- 
lisher of the Monthly Magazine, the London Medical and Physical 
Journal, has announced his intention of becoming a general agent 
for American books and periodical pubUcatjims. 



1816.] Miscellaneoi^ and Literary Intelligence. 433 



DISCOVERY OP LATIN WRITINGS. 

Augsburgy Nov, 2. 

The indefatigable abbot Angelo Majo, one of the keepers of 
the Ambrosian library at Milan, has discovered the works of an 
ancient author, of whom we know nothing but his name and a 
small work. 

This is the works of M. Cornelius Fronto, with unpublished 
letters of the emperours JtUomnus Pius, Marcus Aurelius, L. Verus 
and Appiati. The publication consists of two volumes 8vo. with 
some copper-plates and fac similes of the M. S. of M, Fronto, an 
African by birth, the preceptor of tvvo emperours M. AureUus and 
li. Verus, and the greatest Latin orator after Cicero ; only a small 
grammatical work was hitherto known, now 20 works of this 
remarkable author have been discovered in the Ambrosian library. 
There are several books of Latin and Greek letters to dilFerent em- 
perours, &c. &c. In these volumes are inserted also three unpub- 
lished Latin letters o{ Antoninus Pius, 18 of 31. AureUus, 6 of L. 
Verus, one Greek letter of Appian the historian, and many 
inedited pieces of Ennius, PlmUus, Cato, Sallust, and other an- 
cient Romans and Greeks. The Greek pieces have a Latin 
translation ; in short, nothing is neglected to heighten the value 
of this most agreeable present. No Editio princeps of any clas- 
sick can be compared with it. Fifteen copies are printed in 
large 4to. and will be one day a great curiosity. 

The publick are hereby informed, that the Trustees and Over- 
seers of Bowdoin College at their session in May last, passed an 
act to require from Students seeking admission into this College, 
in addition to the present requisitions for entrance into the Fresh- 
man class, an acquaintance with the Bucolicks or Eclogues and 
the four tK)0ks of the Georgicks of Virgil, for the year 1816, and 
for 1817, in further addition, an acquaintance with Collectanea 
Grmca Minora of the late Professor Dalsel 

The present requisitions are a knowledge of the four funda- 
mental rules of Arithmetick, the Latin Grammar, the Greek 
Grammar, the Aeneid of Virgil, the select Orations of Cicero, 
the Greek Testament, together with an ability to make a Gram- 
matical translation of English into Latin. To the last object, it 
is respectfully recommended, that gentlemen, who are preparing 
youth for college, should require of their pupils particular atten- 
tion. It is likewise recommended, that the acquaintance, which 
students form with the Grammar both of the Latin and Greek 
language, should be minute and intimate. 

JESSE APPLETON, President. 

Brunswick^ Dee* 15, 1815. 

Vol. IL No. 6. 57 



434 Miscellaneous and Liierary Intelligence. [March, 

Our artists arc continuing their labours with more ardour, since 
the publick attention, has been turned towards them. We have 
seen a IundscH:»e with cattle, in a scene of summer repose and 
calm, by Mr. Fisher, now in the possession of Mr. Ibtenry Picker- 
ing, of Salem, which is a new proof of the hue talents of that artist: 
also, a scene of cattle an<l horses, with a tine and harmonious ef- 
fect of colouring Mr. Stewart Newton, has produced a picture 
of the scene, where FalstafT is recounting to the Prince his noc- 
turnal combat on Gadshill, and theheroick deed he bad performed. 
This is one of his first attempts in this way ; the grouping is good, 
the humour and expression of the countenances, excellent : there 
can be no doubt that he will obtain great success in the j>opular 
department of cabinet pictures. Mr. Morse has painted a moon- 
light scene, which wb only saw in an unfinished state, and one 
or two portraits for engraving. Mr. Willard has gone to Rich- 
mond, to obtain a cast from Houdon's statute of Washington, in 
the State House. We are extremely happy to state, tliat a sub- 
scription is now under way to raise a fund for an insitution, to 
protect our own artists, and promote the progress of the Fine 
Arts. We shall say more of this on a future occasion. 

A shock of an earthquake was felt in the towns of Westoo, 
Sudbury and Framingham, daring the night of the 15th of Febru- 
ary, which was calm, intensely cold, and a bright moonlight. 
Several fissures in the earth were seen the next day, and this 
same appearance iias been noticed in other places at the same 
time, and was not owing, as was supposed by some, to the earth' 
quake, but to the extreme cold. 

An account of the District of Maine with a new map on a 
large scale, containing all the latest corrections, by Mr. Green- 
leaf, is now in train for publication. The work contains much 
new and interesting information respecting that important section 
of the country, anu we hope the talents and industry of the author 
will be rewarded by estensive patronage. 

Wells and Lilly, have just received from London, and will 
shortly publish, Rhoda : a Novel. By the Author of " Things 
by their Right Names." " Plain Sense," &c. 



1816.] Obituary. 43b 



OBITUARY. 



DEATHS AT HOME. « 

In yerV'Hampshire. Id Exeter, Hon. Samuel Tenney, formerly 
Senator in Congress. In Seabrook, Comfort Collins, a^ed 105 years 
and 3 months, for many years much esteemed in the Society of Friends 
as a preacher. 

In Massachusetts. In Boston, Mr. John Magner, aged 80. He had 
lived in this country "a great many years, and accumulated a consider- 
able property, nearly the whole of which he bequeathed to his native 
village in Ireland. In Braintree, Rev. Ezra Weld, senior Pastor of the 
Congregational Church in that town. In Barrington, Rev. Samuel 
Watson, aged 43 ; lor eighteen years, minister of the Congregational 
Church. In Rehoboth, Hon. Stephen Bullock, aged 81 — was a Mem- 
ber of Congressformerly, and has filled many civil offices of high res- 
pectability. In Salem, Mr. Ebenezer Becktbrd, aged 70, a respectable 
citizen. 

In Rhode^Island. In North Providence, Mrs. Williams, widow of Pe- 
leg Williams, Esq. and last of the great grand children of Roger Wil- 
liams of Salem, so famous in the early history ot Massachusetts. 

In Connecticut, In Montville, Hon. William Hillhouse, aged 88, up- 
wards of fifty years, in succession, a member of the Connecticut Legis- 
lature. 

In New-York, Ontario County, Hon. T. Hosmer, aged 70. 

In Washington, Hon. Elijah Brigham, of the quinsy. A member 
of the House of Representatives of the United States from Massachu- 
settSr a man whose solid and respectable character makes his loss a 
severe one to the State. 

In Virginiu, In Charlotte County, Hon. Paul Carrington, jun. aged 
52. Major John Reid, Aid-de-Camp of General Jackson, whose life he 
was preparing to publish. He is deeply regretted, as a gallant officer 
and an accomplished man. 

DEATHS BT VIOLENCE. 

In Virginia, Mr. John Corbin, aged 20; a promising young man ; 
died of a wound received in a duel with afeUow-stvdent (^Carlisle Col- 
lege, This, we believe, is not the first instance that has happened 
among students belonging to that seminary. What is the discipline of 
that College ? In New- York, Rensalaer County, Mr. S. Peterson himg 
himself in a fit of insanity. In Philadelphia, Capt. John Carson, shot 
by Lieut. Smith, who is in confinement for trial. The Boatswain of 
the Congress Frigate was shot by the sentinel, in the night, at the 
Navy Yard, Charlestown, attempting to pass without answering, after 
being hailed three times. In Savannah, James Nixon, executed for 
nurder. 



436 Obituary. [Marcb. 



DEATHS ABROAD. 

In Parh. The Prince de Talinont, soD-iii-law of the Duke dc Duras. 
M. Canlon do Montipiy, an eminent lawyer, by suicide. 

In En^laml. Mr. Kdward Post, eldest son of Professor Post, of 
New-York, ancVlate a lecturer on anatomy in that city. 

Lt. Oenoral Sir George Prevost, aged 49, late Goveruour of Canada. 
Vice Admiral Lcrhmere, aged 64. Adminil Viiicount Gardner, aged 4,'>. 
Admiral Dodd, aged 81. Hon. General Bennct. 



TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

*^* The Essay on the subject of a National University sent 
from New-Haven, came too late for this number; its political al- 
lusions are likewise so numerous and so hacknied, that we think 
we shall not be able to make use of it. 

The meteorological tables from Cambridge and Brunswick, 
were duly received, but owing to ao accident, we have been 
obliged to omit them. 

We acknowledge the receipt of Mr. Drake's Picture of Cin- 
cinnati, which came too late to be noticed in the present number ; 
we shall take it up in the next. 



[n/=' The present number, in completing the second volume 
of the Norlh American Review, terminates the labours of 
the editor for the first year. The circulation of the work 
is slowly increasing, and though the patronage of the publick 
is rather reluctant, yet it is sufficient to cover the expenses 
of publication. Believing a work of this kind, mainly de- 
voted lo our own literature and science, will be of considera- 
ble utility, he will cheerfully continue his exertions to this 
end ; and has some reason, as there is much room, to hope 
for its future improvement. To those friends who have as- 
sisted him by their valuable contributions ; and to those 
whose partiality has sometimes encouraged his efforts, 
he offers the most sincere thanks. 



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