1 It is due to myself to state, that though this was in every sense of the word a gift, I regarded it as a loan, payable to the Marquess's countrymen, according to the exalted sentiment of Dr. Franklin, who, when he presented a bill for ten pounds to the Rev. Mr. Nixon, an Irish Clergyman, (who was in distress in Paris, and wanted to migrate to America,) told him to pay the sum to any Americans whom he might find in distress, and thus "let good offices go round." I fully paid the debt to Frenchmen in distress—consigned one or two hogsheads of tobacco to the Marquess, (I believe it was two, but am uncertain,) and, moreover, when in 1824, he reached this country, with shattered fortunes, sent him to New York, a check for the full sum of four hundred dollars, which he retained till he reached Philadelphia, and was very reluctant to use, and finally consented only at my earnest instance.
1 It is due to myself to state, that though this was in every sense of the word a gift, I regarded it as a loan, payable to the Marquess's countrymen, according to the exalted sentiment of Dr. Franklin, who, when he presented a bill for ten pounds to the Rev. Mr. Nixon, an Irish Clergyman, (who was in distress in Paris, and wanted to migrate to America,) told him to pay the sum to any Americans whom he might find in distress, and thus "let good offices go round." I fully paid the debt to Frenchmen in distress—consigned one or two hogsheads of tobacco to the Marquess, (I believe it was two, but am uncertain,) and, moreover, when in 1824, he reached this country, with shattered fortunes, sent him to New York, a check for the full sum of four hundred dollars, which he retained till he reached Philadelphia, and was very reluctant to use, and finally consented only at my earnest instance.
The annexed little anecdote, which Mr. Carey justly considers an instance of the truest pathos, we must be pardoned for inserting as an appropriate pendant to the above.
To an importunate mendicant, whom I had sometimes relieved, I said one day, on giving him a trifle—"Do not let me see you again for a long time." He conformed to the direction, and refrained from applying for about seven months. At length he ventured to bring and hand me a billet, of which I annex a copy verbatim et literatim.
"Sir—You desired me, last time you relieved me, not to call for a long time. It was a few days after Easter. To a wretch in distress 'it is a very long time.'
Yours gratefully,
Nov. 14.
R. W."
At page 21, is an account of a publication, some of whose predictions were certainly imbued with a rare spirit of prophecy.
In October 1786, I commenced, in partnership with T. Siddons, Charles Cist, C. Talbot, W. Spotswood, and J. Trenchard, the Columbian Magazine. In the first number, I wrote four pieces, "The Life of General Greene," "The Shipwreck, a Lamentable Story, Founded on Fact," "A Philosophical Dream," and "Hard Times, a Fragment."