We have already referred to the memorial of the trustees of the Staunton institution, and the report of the committee of schools and colleges—both of which interesting papers will be found among the printed legislative documents of last winter, and ought to be reprinted for distribution among the members of that body, now in session. We hope that the Legislature will take the subject into its speedy and earnest consideration, and that, in the language of the Kentucky report, they will hearken to the "claims of those whom God, in the mysterious dispensations of his providence, has deprived of the faculty of hearing and of speech; of whom an eloquent divine has said, 'silence like theirs is eloquence.'"
COLONIAL MANNERS.
A picture of the House of Burgesses of Maryland in 1766.
We have been politely favored with the sight of a letter from an illustrious philosopher and statesman, written at Annapolis on the 25th May, 1766, to his friend in Virginia, from which we make the subjoined curious extract. It is no less instructive than amusing to trace the progress of society from its rude and simple beginnings, to that more perfect form produced by civilization and refinement. It may be doubted however, whether the degree of decorum prevailing in the legislative body of a country, furnishes more than an imperfect index to the state of public manners. We will venture to assert that in 1766, the very year when the Burgesses of Maryland are represented as no better than a "mob," the Colonial Assembly of Virginia exhibited as fine a picture of gravity and dignity as could be well conceived; and yet we have no reason to believe that the people of Maryland at that day were less civilized than their brethren south of the Potomac. Perfectly aware as we are of the faults of our countrymen, we have nevertheless always contended that the Virginians are the most remarkable people in the world for the observance of a certain peculiar affability towards each other, not only in their public bodies, but in private intercourse. We mean Virginians of the genuine old stock—not the new race who have sprung up among us like mushrooms, and are trying to introduce an awkward imitation of European customs. These latter are some of them weak enough to think that the sudden acquisition of fortune, without merit on their part, or a voyage or two to London or Paris, are of themselves sufficient to constitute a finished gentleman. Real refinement is founded upon good sense, and upon kindness and good will towards our fellow man, and never can co-exist with purse-proud arrogance or conceited vanity.
In reference to our public assemblies, it is a common remark, and we have no doubt a just one, that there is more order, decorum and dignity in the Virginia Legislature, than in the House of Representatives of the United States. In the latter body the members sit with their hats on, write letters and read newspapers, whilst one of their members is addressing the chair, or the speaker is putting the question. Such disorder is rarely seen in the Capitol of the Old Dominion.
——"I will now give you some account of what I have seen in this metropolis. The Assembly happens to be sitting at this time; their upper and lower house as they call them, sit in different houses. I went into the lower, sitting in an old courthouse, which judging from its form and appearance, was built in the year one. I was surprised on approaching it, to hear as great a noise and hubbub as you will usually observe at a public meeting of the planters in Virginia. The first object which struck me after my entrance, was the figure of a little old man, dressed but indifferently, with a yellow queue wig on, and mounted in the judge's chair. This, the gentleman who walked with me, informed me was the speaker, a man of a very fair character, but who, by the by, has very little the air of a speaker. At one end of the justices' bench stood a man whom in another place I should, from his dress and phiz, have taken for Goodall the lawyer in Williamsburg, reading a bill then before the house with a schoolboy tone, and an abrupt pause at every half dozen words. This I found to be the clerk of the Assembly. The mob (for such was their appearance) sat covered on the justices' and lawyers' benches, and were divided into little clubs, amusing themselves in the common chitchat way. I was surprised to see them address the speaker without rising from their seats, and three, four and five at a time, without being checked. When a motion was made, the speaker, instead of putting the question in the usual form, only asked the gentlemen whether they chose that such or such a thing should be done, and was answered by a yes sir, or no sir; and though the voices appeared frequently to be divided, they never would go to the trouble of dividing the house; but the clerk entered the resolutions, I supposed, as he thought proper. In short, every thing seems to be carried without the house in general knowing what was proposed."