Early Western Travels
1748-1846

Volume XII

Early Western Travels
1748-1846

A Series of Annotated Reprints of some of the best
and rarest contemporary volumes of travel,
descriptive of the Aborigines and Social
and Economic Conditions in the Middle
and Far West, during the Period
of Early American Settlement

Edited with Notes, Introductions, Index, etc., by
Reuben Gold Thwaites, LL.D.
Editor of "The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents," "Original
Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition," "Hennepin's
New Discovery," etc.

Volume XII
Part II (1820) of Faux's Memorable Days in America, 1819-20;
and Welby's Visit to North America, 1819-20.

Cleveland, Ohio
The Arthur H. Clark Company
1905

Copyright 1905, by
THE ARTHUR H. CLARK COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The Lakeside Press
R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY
CHICAGO

CONTENTS OF VOLUME XII

ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOLUME XII

Part II (1820) of Faux's Memorable Days in America
November 27, 1818-July 21, 1820

Reprint of the original edition: London, 1823. Part I is comprised
in Volume XI of our series

JOURNAL
(PART II)

January 1st, 1820.—I left Princeton at ten o'clock, with Mr. Phillips and Mr. Wheeler; and here parted with my good and kind friend Ingle.

I met and spoke, ten miles off, with two hog-jobbing judges, Judge Prince and Judge Daniel,[104] driving home twenty fat hogs, which they had just bought.

I reached, and rested at Petersburgh,[105] consisting of fifteen houses. I passed good farms. Our landlord of this infant town, though having an [333] ostler, was compelled to groom, saddle, unsaddle, and to do all himself. Having fifty dollars owing to him, from a gentleman of Evansville, he arrested him, when he went into the bounds; then he sued one of the bondsmen, who also entered the bounds. The squire is next to be sued, who, it is expected, will do likewise.

Sunday, 2nd.—I rode thirty-one miles this day, and rested at Edmonstone, in a little cold log-hole, out of which I turned an officer's black cat, which jumped from the roof into our faces, while in bed; but she soon found her way in again, through a hole in the roof. The cat liked our fire. We got no coffee nor tea, but cold milk and pork, and corn cake.

3rd.—Travelled all day, through the mud-holes formed by springs running from countless hills, covered with fine timber, to breakfast, at three o'clock, p. m. I supped and slept at Judge Chambers's, a comfortable house, and saw again the judge's mother, of eighty, whose activity and superior horsemanship, I have before mentioned. I smoked a segar with Mrs. Judge, while she smoked her pipe, (the first pipe I have seen here.) She, as well as the old lady, is a quaker. The judge was gone to the metropolitan town of Coridon, being a senator, on duty.[106] The land which I passed over all this day, seemed poor, but full of wild turkeys and bears.

4th.—I reached Miller's to supper, but found no [334] coffee; cold milk only, as a substitute. The ride hither is interesting, through a fine rolling country. The wolves howled around us all night.

5th.—Passed the Silver Hills,[107] from the summit of which is a fine, extensive prospect of Kentucky, the Ohio, and of Louisville, where we breakfasted. I called with Mr. Flower's letter to Archer, who was out. I received the present of a cow-hide whip, from a lady, and promised to treat the beast kindly, for her sake. Judge Waggoner recently shook hands at a whiskey-shop, with a man coming before him that day, to be tried for murder. He drank his health, and wished him well through.

I rode seven miles with an intelligent old Kentucky planter, having four children, who cultivate his farm, without negroes. He says, "Kentucky is morally and physically ruined. We have been brought up to live without labour: all are demoralized. No man's word or judgment is to be taken for the guidance and government of another. Deception is a trade, and all are rogues. The west has the scum of all the earth. Long ago it was said, when a man left other States, he is gone to hell, or Kentucky. The people are none the better for a free, good government. The oldest first settlers are all gone or ruined. Your colt, sir, of one hundred dollars, is worth only fifteen dollars. At Louisville, as good a horse can be bought at ten dollars, or fifteen dollars. You are therefore cheated."

The Missouri territory boasts the best land in [335] the country, but is not watered by springs. Wells are, however, dug, abounding in good water, says our hearty landlord, just returned from viewing that country.

The bottom land is the finest in the world. Corn, from sixty to eighty bushels, and wheat, from forty to sixty bushels an acre. The best prairies are full of fine grass, flowers, and weeds, not coarse, benty, sticky grass, which denotes the worst of prairie land. Grass, of a short fine quality, fit for pasture or hay, every where abounds. The country is full of wild honey, some houses having made seven and eight barrels this season, taken out of the trees, which are cut down without killing the bees. These industrious insects do not sting, but are easily hived and made tame. Our landlord likes the Missouri, but not so well as Old Kentucky.

Two grim, gaunt-looking men burst into our room, at two, this morning; and by six, the landlord disturbed us by cow-hiding his negro, threatening to squeeze the life out of him.

6th.—I rode all day through a country of fine plantations, and reached Frankfort to supper, with the legislative body, where I again met my gay fellow-traveller, Mr. Cowen. It was interesting to look down our table, and contemplate the many bright, intelligent faces around me: men who might honour any nation. As strangers, we were [336] invited by the landlord, (the best I have seen) to the first rush for a chance at the table's head.

7th.—I travelled this day through a fine country of rich pasture and tillage, to Lexington City, to Keen's excellent tavern. I drank wine with Mr. Lidiard, who is removing eastward, having spent 1,100l. in living, and travelling to and fro. Fine beef at three cents per lb. Fat fowls, one dollar per dozen. Who would not live in old Kentucky's first city?

8th.—Being a wet day, I rested all day and this night. Prairie flies bleed horses nearly to death. Smoke and fire is a refuge to these distressed animals. The Indian summer smoke reaches to the Isle of Madeira.

Visited the Athenæum. Viewed some fine horses, at two hundred dollars each.

Sunday, 9th.—I quitted Lexington, and one of the best taverns in America, for Paris, Kentucky, and a good, genteel farm-house, the General Washington, twenty-three miles from the city, belonging to Mr. Hit, who, though owning between four hundred and five hundred acres of the finest land in Kentucky, does not think it beneath him to entertain travellers and their horses, on the best fare and beds in the country. He has been offered sixty dollars, and could now have forty dollars an acre, for his land, which averages thirty bushels of wheat, and sixty bushels of corn per acre, and, in [337] natural or artificial grass, is the first in the world. Sheep, (fine stores) one dollar per head; beef, fine, three cents per lb., and fowls, one dollar per dozen.

10th.—Rode all day in the rain and mud, and through the worst roads in the universe, frequently crossing creeks, belly deep of our horses. Passed the creek at Blue-lick, belly deep, with sulphurous water running from a sulphur spring, once a salt spring. The water stinks like the putrid stagnant water of an English horse-pond, full of animal dung. This is resorted to for health.

Five or six dirkings and stabbings took place, this fall, in Kentucky.

11th.—Breakfasted at Washington, (Kentucky) where we parted with Mr. Phillips, and met the Squire, and another gentleman, debating about law. Rested at Maysville, a good house, having chambers, and good beds, with curtains. The steam-boats pass this handsome river town, at the rate of fifteen to twenty miles an hour. To the passenger, the effect is beautiful, every minute presenting new objects of attraction.

12th.—Crossed the Ohio in a flat, submitting to Kentuckyan imposition of seventy-five cents a horse, instead of twenty-five, because we were supposed to be Yankees. "We will not," said the boat-man, "take you over, for less than a dollar each. We heard of you, yesterday. The gentleman in the cap (meaning me) looks as though he [338] could afford to pay, and besides, he is so slick with his tongue. The Yankees are the smartest of fellows, except the Kentuckyans." Sauciness and impudence are characteristic of these boat-men, who wished I would commence a bridge over the river.

Reached Union town, Ohio,[108] and rested for the night.

13th.—Breakfasted at Colonel Wood's. A fine breakfast on beef, pork-steaks, eggs, and coffee, and plenty for our horses, all for fifty cents each. Slept at Colonel Peril's, an old Virginian revolutionary soldier, living on 400 acres of fine land, in a good house, on an eminence, which he has held two years only. He now wishes to sell all at ten dollars an acre, less than it cost him, because he has a family who will all want as much land each, in the Missouri, at two dollars. He never had a negro. He knows us to be English from our dialect. We passed, this day, through two or three young villages.

14th.—Breakfasted at Bainbridge,[109] where is good bottom land, at twenty to thirty dollars an acre, with improvements. The old Virginian complains of want of labourers. A farmer must do all himself. Received of our landlady a lump of Ohio wild sugar, of which some families make from six to ten barrels a-year, sweet and good enough.

Reached Chilicothé, on the Sciota river, to [339] sup and rest at the tavern of Mr. Madera, a sensible young man. Here I met Mr. Randolph, a gentleman of Philadelphia, from Missouri and Illinois, who thinks both sickly, and not to be preferred to the east, or others parts of the west. I saw three or four good houses, in the best street, abandoned, and the windows and doors rotting out for want of occupants.

15th.—I rode all day through a fine interesting country, abounding with every good thing, and full of springs and streams. Near Lancaster,[110] I passed a large high ridge of rocks, which nature has clothed in everlasting green, being beautified with the spruce, waving like feathers, on their bleak, barren tops. I reached Lancaster to rest; a handsome county seat, near which land is selling occasionally from sixteen dollars to twenty dollars. A fine farm of 170 acres, 100 being cleared, with all improvements, was sold lately by the sheriff, at sixteen dollars one cent an acre, much less than it cost. Labour is to be had at fifty cents and board, but as the produce is so low, it is thought farming, by hired hands, does not pay. Wheat, fifty cents; corn, 33½ cents; potatoes, 33 cents a bushel; beef, four dollars per cwt.; pork, three dollars; mutton none; sheep being kept only for the wool, and bought in common at 2s. 8d. per head.

Met Judge and General ——, who states that four millions of acres of land will this year [340] be offered to sale, bordering on the lakes. Why then should people go to the Missouri? It is not healthy near the lakes, on account of stagnant waters, made by sand bars, at the mouth of lake rivers. The regular periodical rising and falling of the lakes is not yet accounted for. There is no sensible diminution, or increase of the lake-waters. A grand canal is to be completed in five years, when boats will travel.[111]

Sunday, 16th.—I left Lancaster at peep of day, travelling through intense cold and icy roads to Somerset, eighteen miles, in five hours, to breakfast.[112] Warmed at an old quarter-section man, a Dutch American, from Pennsylvania. He came here eleven years since, cleared seventy acres, has eight children, likes his land, but says, produce is too low to make it worth raising. People comfortably settled in the east, on good farms, should stay, unless their children can come and work on the land. He and his young family do all the work. Has a fine stove below, warming the first, and all other floors, by a pipe passing through them.

I slept at a good tavern, the keeper of which is a farmer. All are farmers, and all the best farmers are tavern-keepers. Farms, therefore, on the road, sell from 50 to 100 per cent more than land lying back, though it is no better in quality, and for mere farming, worth no more. But on the road, a farm and frequented tavern is found to be [341] a very beneficial mode of using land; the produce selling for double and treble what it will bring at market, and also fetching ready money. Labour is not to be commanded, says our landlord.

17th.—Started at peep of day in a snow-storm, which had covered the ground six inches deep. Breakfasted at beautiful Zanesville, a town most delightfully situated amongst the hills. Twelve miles from this town, one Chandler, in boring for salt, hit upon silver; a mine, seven feet thick, 150 feet below the surface. It is very pure ore, and the proprietor has given up two acres of the land to persons who have applied to the legislature to be incorporated. He is to receive one-fifth of the net profits.

18th.—I rode all day through a fine hilly country, full of springs and fountains. The land is more adapted for good pasture than for cultivation. Our landlord, Mr. Gill, states that wheat at fifty cents is too low; but, even at that price, there is no market, nor at any other. In some former years, Orleans was a market, but now it gets supplied from countries more conveniently situated than Ohio, from which it costs one dollar, or one dollar and a quarter per barrel, to send it. Boats carrying from 100 to 500 barrels, sell for only 16 dollars.

From a conversation, with an intelligent High Sheriff of this county, I learn that no common debtor has ever lain in prison longer than five [342] days. None need be longer in giving security for the surrender of all property.

19th.—Reached Wheeling late at night, passing through a romantic, broken, mountainous country, with many fine springs and creeks. Thus I left Ohio, which, thirty years ago, was a frontier state, full of Indians, without a white man's house, between Wheeling, Kaskasky, and St. Louis.

20th.—Reached Washington, Pennsylvania, to sleep, and found our tavern full of thirsty classics, from the seminary in this town.

21st.—Reached Pittsburgh, through a beautiful country of hills, fit only for pasture. I viewed the fine covered bridges over the two rivers Monongahela and Allegany, which cost 10,000 dollars each. The hills around the city shut it in, and make the descent into it frightfully precipitous. It is most eligibly situated amidst rocks, or rather hills, of coal, stone, and iron, the coals lying up to the surface, ready for use. One of these hills, or coal banks, has been long on fire, and resembles a volcano. Bountiful nature has done every thing for this rising Birmingham of America.

We slept at Wheeling, at the good hotel of Major Spriggs, one of General Washington's revolutionary officers, now near 80, a chronicle of years departed.[113]

22nd.—Bought a fine buffalo robe for five dollars. [343] The buffaloes, when Kentucky was first settled, were shot, by the settlers, merely for their tongues; the carcase and skin being thought worth nothing, were left where the animal fell.

Left Pittsburgh for Greensburgh, travelling through a fine, cultivated, thickly settled country, full of neat, flourishing, and good farms, the occupants of which are said to be rich. Land, on the road, is worth from fifteen to thirty dollars; from it, five to fifteen dollars per acre. The hills and mountains seem full of coal-mines and stone-quarries, or rather banks of coal and stone ever open gratuitously to all. The people about here are economical and intelligent; qualities characteristic of Pennsylvania.

Sunday, 23d.—We agreed to rest here until the morrow; finding one of our best horses sick; and went to Pittsburgh church.

24th.—My fellow traveller finding his horse getting worse, gave him away for our tavern bill of two days, thus paying 175 dollars for two days board. While this fine animal remained ours, no doctor could be found, but as soon as he became our landlord's, one was discovered, who engaged to cure him in a week. Mr. Wheeler took my horse, and left me to come on in the stage, to meet again at Chambersburgh.

The country round about here is fine, but there is no market, except at Baltimore, at five dollars a barrel for flour. The carriage costs two and half [344] dollars. I saw two young ladies, Dutch farmers' daughters, smoking segars in our tavern, very freely, and made one of their party. Paid twelve dollars for fare to Chambersburgh.[114]

Invited to a sleying party of ten gentlemen, one of whom was the venerable speaker (Brady) of the senate of this state. They were nearly all drunk with apple-toddy, a large bowl of which was handed to every drinker. One gentleman returned with a cracked skull.

25th.—Left this town, at three o'clock in the morning, in the stage, and met again at Bedford, and parted, perhaps, for ever, with my agreeable fellow-traveller, Mr. Wheeler, who passed on to New York. Passed the Laurel-hill, a huge mountain, covered with everlasting green, and a refuge for bears, one of which was recently killed with a pig of 150lbs. weight in his mouth.

26th.—Again mounted my horse, passing the lonely Allegany mountains, all day, in a blinding snow-storm, rendering the air as dense as a November fog in London. Previous to its coming on, I found my naked nose in danger. The noses of others were wrapped up in flannel bags, or cots, and masks for the eyes, which are liable to freeze into balls of ice.

Passed several flourishing villages. The people here seem more economical and simple, than in other states. Rested at M'Connell's town, 100 miles from Washington city.

[345] 27th.—Crossed the last of the huge Allegany mountains, called the North Mount, nine miles over, and very high. My horse was belly deep in snow.

Breakfasted at Mercersburgh, at the foot of the above mountain, and at the commencement of that fine and richest valley in the eastern states, in which Hagar's town stands, and which extends through Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, from 100 to 200 miles long, and from 30 to 40 broad. Land here, three years ago, sold at 100 to 120 dollars, although now at a forced sale, 160 acres sold for only 1,600 dollars, with improvements, in Pennsylvania. And if, says my informant, the state makes no law to prevent it, much must come into the market, without money to buy, except at a ruinous depreciation.

Passed Hagar's town, to Boonsburgh, to rest all night, after 37 miles travel.

The old Pennsylvanian farmer, in answer to "How do you do without negroes?" said, "Better than with them. I occupy of my father 80 acres in this valley, and hire all my hands, and sell five loads of flour, while some of the Marylanders and Virginians cannot raise enough to maintain their negroes, who do but little work."

28th.—Breakfasted on the road; passed Middletown, with two fine spires, a good town; and also Frederick town, a noble inland town, and next to Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, and the first [346] in the United States. It has three beautiful spires. It is much like a second rate English town, but not so cleanly; something is dirty, or in ruins. It stands at the foot of the Blue Ridge, in the finest, largest vale in the world, running from the eastern sea to the Gulf of Mexico.

Rested at Windmiller's, a stage-house, thirty miles from Washington, distinguished only by infamous, ungenerous, extortion from travellers. Here I paid 75 cents for tea; 25 cents for a pint of beer, 9s. sterling for a bushel of oats and corn, and 50 cents for hay for the night. The horse cost 6s. 9d. in one night.

29th.—Rode from seven till eleven o'clock, sixteen miles to breakfast, at Montgomery-court-house, all drenched in rain. I reached Washington city, at six this evening. Here, for the first time, I met friend Joseph Lancaster, full of visionary schemes, which are unlikely to produce him bread.

Sunday, 30th.—Went to Congress-hall, and heard grave senators wrangling about slavery. Governor Barbour spoke with eloquence.

Friend Lancaster's daily and familiar calls on the great, and on his Excellency, the President, about schooling the Indians, and his praises of the members, are likely to wear out all his former fame, already much in ruins. I was this day introduced by him to —— Parr, Esq., an English gentleman of fortune, from Boston, Lincolnshire, [347] who has just returned from a pedestrian pilgrimage to Birkbeck and the western country.

February 1st.—I again went to Congress, where I heard Mr. Randolph's good speech on the Missouri question. This sensible orator continually refers to English authors and orators, insomuch that all seemed English. These American statesmen cannot open their mouths without acknowledging their British origin and obligations.—I shall here insert some observations on the constitution and laws of this country, and on several of the most distinguished members of Congress, for which I am indebted to the pen of G. Waterstone, Esq., Congressional Librarian at Washington.[115]

Observations on the Constitution and Laws of the United States, with Sketches of some of the most prominent public Characters.

Like the Minerva of the ancients, the American people have sprung, at once, into full and vigorous maturity, without the imbecility of infancy, or the tedious process of gradual progression. They possess none of the thoughtless liberality and inconsiderate confidence of youth; but are, already, distinguished by the cold and cautious policy of declining life, rendered suspicious by a long acquaintance with the deceptions and the vices of the world.

Practitioners of jurisprudence have become [348] almost innumerable, and the great end of all laws, the security and protection of the citizen, is in some degree defeated. It is to the multiplicity and ambiguity of the laws of his age, that Tacitus has ascribed most of the miseries which were then experienced; and this evil will always be felt where they are ambiguous and too numerous. In vain do the Americans urge that their laws have been founded on those of England, the wisdom and excellence of which have been so highly and extravagantly eulogized. The difference, as Mably correctly observes, between the situation of this country and that is prodigious;[116] the government of one having been formed in an age of refinement and civilization, and that of the other, amidst the darkness and barbarism of feudal ignorance. In most of the states the civil and criminal code is defective; and the latter, like that of Draco, is often written in blood. Why should not each state form a code of laws for itself, and cast off this slavish dependence on Great Britain, whom they pretend so much to dislike?

With a view of explaining more perfectly the nature of this constitution, I will briefly exhibit the points in which the British and American governments differ [349].

It may, perhaps, be unnecessary to adduce more points of difference to illustrate the nature of the American government. These are amply sufficient to demonstrate the entire democratic tendency of the constitution of the United States, and the error under which those persons labour, who believe that but few differences, and those immaterial and unimportant, exist between these two governments. They have, indeed, in common the Habeas Corpus and the Trial by Jury, the great bulwarks of civil liberty, but in almost every other particular they disagree.

The second branch of this government is the legislature. This consists of a Senate and House of Representatives; the members of the latter are chosen every two years by the people; and those of the former, every six years by the legislatures of the different states. It is in this branch that the American government differs from the republics of ancient and modern times; it is this which [351] makes it not a pure, but a representative democracy; and it is this which gives it such a decided superiority over all the governments in the world. Experience has demonstrated the impracticability of assembling a numerous collection of people to frame laws, and their incompetency, when assembled, for judicious deliberation and prompt and unbiassed decision. The passions of illiterate and unthinking men are easily roused into action and inflamed to madness. Artful and designing demagogues are too apt to take advantage of those imbecilities of our nature, and to convert them to the basest purposes.

The qualifications of representatives are very simple. It is only required that they should be citizens of the United States, and have attained the age of twenty-five. The moment their period of service expires, they are again, unless re-elected, reduced to the rank and condition of citizens. If they should have acted in opposition to the wishes and interests of their constituents, while performing the functions of legislation, the people possess the remedy and can exercise it without endangering the peace and harmony of society; the offending member is dropped, and his place supplied by another, more worthy of confidence. This consciousness of responsibility, on the part of the representatives, operates as a perpetual guarantee to the people, and protects and secures them in the enjoyment of their political and civil liberties.

[352] It must be admitted that the Americans have attained the Ultima Thulé in representative legislation, and that they enjoy this inestimable blessing to a much greater extent than the people of Great Britain. Of the three distinct and independent branches of that government, one only owes its existence to the free suffrages of the people, and this, from the inequality of representation, the long intervals between the periods of election, and the liability of members, from this circumstance, to be corrupted, is not so important and useful a branch as might otherwise be expected. Imperfect, however, as it is, the people, without it, would indeed be slaves, and the government nothing more than a pure monarchy.

The American walks abroad in the majesty of freedom; if he be innocent, he shrinks not from the gaze of upstart and insignificant wealth, nor sinks beneath the oppression of his fellow-man. Conscious of his rights and of the security he enjoys, by the liberal institutions of his country, independence beams in his eye, and humanity glows in his heart. Has he done wrong? He knows the limits of his punishment, and the character of his judges. Is he innocent? He feels that no power on earth can crush him. What a condition is this, compared with that of the subjects of almost all the European nations!

As long as it is preserved, the security of the citizen and the union of the states, will be guaranteed, [353] and the country thus governed, will become the home of the free, the retreat of misery, and the asylum of persecuted humanity. As a written compact, it is a phenomenon in politics, an unprecedented and perfect example of representative democracy, to which the attention of mankind is now enthusiastically directed. Most happily and exquisitely organized, the American constitution is, in truth, at once "a monument of genius, and an edifice of strength and majesty." The union of its parts forms its solidity, and the harmony of its proportions constitutes its beauty. May it always be preserved inviolate by the gallant and highminded people of America, and may they never forget that its destruction will be the inevitable death-blow of liberty, and the probable passport to universal despotism!

The speaker of the House of Representatives is Mr. Clay, a delegate from Kentucky, and who, not long ago, acted a conspicuous part, as one of the American commissioners at Ghent.[117] He is a tall, thin, and not very muscular man; his gait is stately, but swinging; and his countenance, while it indicates genius, denotes dissipation. As an orator, Mr. Clay stands high in the estimation of his countrymen, but he does not possess much gracefulness or elegance of manner; his eloquence is impetuous and vehement; it rolls like a torrent, but like a torrent which is sometimes irregular, and occasionally obstructed. Though there is a [354] want of rapidity and fluency in his elocution, yet he has a great deal of fire and vigour in his expression. When he speaks he is full of animation and earnestness; his face brightens, his eye beams with additional lustre, and his whole figure indicates that he is entirely occupied with the subject on which his eloquence is employed. In action, on which Demosthenes laid such peculiar emphasis, and which was so highly esteemed among the ancients, Mr. Clay is neither very graceful nor very imposing. He does not, in the language of Shakespear, "so suit the word to the action, and the action to the word, as not to o'erstep the modesty of nature." In his gesticulation and attitudes, there is sometimes an uniformity and awkwardness that lessen his merit as an orator, and in some measure destroy the impression and effect his eloquence would otherwise produce. Mr. Clay does not seem to have studied rhetoric as a science, or to have paid much attention to those artificial divisions and rhetorical graces and ornaments on which the orators of antiquity so strongly insist. Indeed, oratory as an art is but little studied in this country. Public speakers here trust almost entirely to the efficacy of their own native powers for success in the different fields of eloquence, and search not for the extrinsic embellishments and facilities of art. It is but rarely they unite the Attic and Rhodian manner, and still more rarely do they devote their attention to the acquisition [355] of those accomplishments which were, in the refined ages of Greece and Rome, considered so essential to the completion of an orator. Mr. Clay, however, is an eloquent speaker; and notwithstanding the defects I have mentioned, very seldom fails to please and convince. His mind is so organized that he overcomes the difficulties of abstruse and complicated subjects, apparently without the toil of investigation or the labour of profound research. It is rich, and active, and rapid, grasping at one glance, connections the most distant, and consequences the most remote, and breaking down the trammels of error and the cobwebs of sophistry. When he rises to speak he always commands attention, and almost always satisfies the mind on which his eloquence is intended to operate. The warmth and fervor of his feelings, and the natural impetuosity of his character, which seem to be common to the Kentuckians, often indeed lead him to the adoption of opinions, which are not, at all times, consistent with the dictates of sound policy. Though ambitious and persevering, his intentions are good and his heart is pure; he is propelled by a love of country, but yet is solicitous of distinction; he wishes to attain the pinnacle of greatness without infringing the liberties, or marring the prosperity of that land of which it seems to be his glory to be a native.

[356] The prominent traits of Mr. Clay's mind are quickness, penetration, and acuteness; a fertile invention, discriminating judgment, and good memory. His attention does not seem to have been much devoted to literary or scientific pursuits, unconnected with his profession; but fertile in resources, and abounding in expedients, he is seldom at a loss, and if he is not at all times able to amplify and embellish, he but rarely fails to do justice to the subject which has called forth his eloquence. On the most complicated questions, his observations made immediately and on the spur of the occasion, are generally such as would be suggested by long and deep reflection. In short, Mr. Clay has been gifted by nature with great intellectual superiority, which will always give him a decided influence in whatever sphere it may be his destiny to revolve.

Mr. Clay's manners are plain and easy. He has nothing in him of that reserve which checks confidence, and which some politicians assume; his views of mankind are enlarged and liberal; and his conduct as a politician and a statesman has been marked with the same enlarged and liberal policy. As Speaker of the House of Representatives, he presides generally with great dignity, and decides on questions of order, sometimes, indeed, with too much precipitation, but almost always correctly. It is but seldom his decisions are disputed, [357] and when they are, they are not often reversed.[118]

"A Statesman," says Mirabeau, "presents to the mind the idea of a vast genius improved by experience, capable of embracing the mass of social interests, and of perceiving how to maintain true harmony among the individuals of which society is composed, and an extent of information which may give substance and union to the different operations of government."

Mr. Pinkney[119] is between fifty and sixty years of age; his form is sufficiently elevated and compact to be graceful, and his countenance, though marked by the lines of dissipation, and rather too heavy, is not unprepossessing or repulsive. His eye is rapid in its motion, and beams with the animation of genius; but his lips are too thick, and his cheeks too fleshy and loose for beauty; there is too a degree of foppery, and sometimes of splendor, manifested in the decoration of his person, which is not perfectly reconcileable to our [358] ideas of mental superiority, and an appearance of voluptuousness about him which cannot surely be a source of pride or of gratification to one whose mind is so capacious and elegant. It is not improbable, however, that this character is assumed merely for the purpose of exciting a higher admiration of his powers, by inducing a belief that, without the labour of study or the toil of investigation, he can attain the object of his wishes and become eminent, without deigning to resort to that painful drudgery by which meaner minds and inferior intellects are enabled to arrive at excellence and distinction. At the first glance, you would imagine Mr. Pinkney was one of those butterflies of fashion, a dandy, known by their extravagant eccentricities of dress, and peculiarities of manners; and no one could believe, from his external appearance, that he was, in the least degree, intellectually superior to his fellow men. But Mr. Pinkney is indeed a wonderful man, and one of those beings whom the lover of human nature feels a delight in contemplating. His mind is of the very first order; quick, expanded, fervid, and powerful. The hearer is at a loss which most to admire, the vigour of his judgment, the fertility of his invention, the strength of his memory, or the power of his imagination. Each of these faculties he possesses in an equal degree of perfection, and each is displayed in its full maturity, when the [359] magnitude of the subject on which he descants renders its operation necessary. This singular union of the rare and precious gifts of nature, has received all the strength which education could afford, and all the polish and splendour which art could bestow. Under the cloak of dissipation and voluptuousness his application has been indefatigable, and his studies unintermitted: the oil of the midnight lamp has been exhausted, and the labyrinths of knowledge have been explored.

Mr. Pinkney is never unprepared, and never off his guard. He encounters his subject with a mind rich in all the gifts of nature, and fraught with all the resources of art and study. He enters the list with his antagonist, armed, like the ancient cavalier, cap-a-pee; and is alike prepared to wield the lance, or to handle the sword, as occasion may require. In cases which embrace all the complications and intricacies of law, where reason seems to be lost in the chaos of technical perplexity, and obscurity and darkness assume the dignified character of science, he displays an extent of research, a range of investigation, a lucidness of reasoning, and a fervor and brilliancy of thought, that excite our wonder, and elicit our admiration. On the driest, most abstract, and uninteresting questions of law, when no mind can anticipate such an occurrence, he occasionally blazes forth in all the enchanting exuberance of a chastened, but rich [360] and vivid imagination, and paints in a manner as classical as it is splendid, and as polished as it is brilliant. In the higher grades of eloquence, where the passions and feelings of our nature are roused to action, or lulled to tranquillity, Mr. Pinkney is still the great magician, whose power is resistless, and whose touch is fascination. His eloquence becomes sublime and impassioned, majestic and overwhelming. In calmer moments, when these passions are hushed, and more tempered feelings have assumed the place of agitation and disorder, he weaves around you the fairy circles of fancy, and calls up the golden palaces and magnificent scenes of enchantment. You listen with rapture as he rolls along: his defects vanish, and you are not conscious of any thing but what he pleases to infuse. From his tongue, like that of Nestor, "language more sweet than honey flows;" and the attention is constantly rivetted by the successive operation of the different faculties of the mind. There are no awkward pauses, no hesitation for want of words or of arguments: he moves forward with a pace sometimes majestic, sometimes graceful, but always captivating and elegant. His order is lucid, his reasoning logical, his diction select, magnificent, and appropriate, and his style, flowing, oratorical, and beautiful. The most laboured and finished composition could not be better than that which he seems to utter [361] spontaneously and without effort. His judgment, invention, memory, and imagination, all conspire to furnish him at once with whatever he may require to enforce, embellish, or illustrate his subject. On the dullest topic he is never dry: and no one leaves him without feeling an admiration of his powers, that borders on enthusiasm. His satire is keen, but delicate, and his wit is scintillating and brilliant. His treasure is exhaustless, possessing the most extensive and varied information. He never feels at a loss; and he ornaments and illustrates every subject he touches. Nihil quod tetigit, non ornavit. He is never the same; he uses no common place artifice to excite a momentary thrill of admiration. He is not obliged to patch up and embellish a few ordinary thoughts, or set off a few meagre and uninteresting facts. His resources seem to be as unlimited as those of nature; and fresh powers, and new beauties are exhibited, whenever his eloquence is employed. A singular copiousness and felicity of thought and expression, united to a magnificence of amplification, and a purity and chastity of ornament, give to his eloquence a sort of enchantment which it is difficult to describe.

Mr. Pinkney's mind is in a high degree poetical; it sometimes wantons in the luxuriance of its own creations; but these creations never violate the purity of classical taste and elegance. He [362] loves to paint when there is no occasion to reason; and addresses the imagination and passions, when the judgment has been satisfied and enlightened. I speak of Mr. Pinkney at present as a forensic orator. His career was too short to afford an opportunity of judging of his parliamentary eloquence; and, perhaps, like Curran, he might have failed in a field in which it was anticipated he would excel, or, at least, retain his usual pre-eminence. Mr. Pinkney, I think, bears a stronger resemblance to Burke than to Pitt; but, in some particulars, he unites the excellences of both. He has the fancy and erudition of the former, and the point, rapidity, and elocution of the latter. Compared with his countrymen, he wants the vigour and striking majesty of Clay, the originality and ingenuity of Calhoun; but, as a rhetorician, he surpasses both. In his action, Mr. Pinkney has, unfortunately, acquired a manner, borrowed, no doubt, from some illustrious model, which is eminently uncouth and inelegant. It consists in raising one leg on a bench or chair before him, and in thrusting his right arm in a horizontal line from his side to its full length in front. This action is uniform, and never varies or changes in the most tranquil flow of sentiment, or the grandest burst of impassioned eloquence. His voice, though not naturally good, has been disciplined to modulation by art; and, if it is not always musical, it is [363] never very harsh or offensive. Such is Mr. Pinkney as an orator; as a diplomatist but little can be said that will add to his reputation. In his official notes there is too much flippancy, and too great diffuseness, for beauty or elegance of composition. It is but seldom that the orator possesses the requisites of the writer; and the fame which is acquired by the tongue sometimes evaporates through the pen. As a writer he is inferior to the present Attorney-General,[120] who unites the powers of both in a high degree, and thus in his own person illustrates the position which he has laid down, as to the universality of genius.

Mr. R. King is a senator from the State of New York, and was formerly the resident minister at the court of St. James's.[121] He is now about sixty years of age, above the middle size, and somewhat inclined to corpulency. His countenance, when serious and thoughtful, possesses a great deal of austerity and rigour; but at other moments it is marked with placidity and benevolence. Among his friends he is facetious and easy; but when with strangers, reserved and distant; apparently indisposed to conversation, and inclined to taciturnity; but when called out, his colloquial powers are of no ordinary character, and his conversation becomes peculiarly instructive, fascinating, and humourous. Mr. King has read and reflected much; and though long in public life, his attention [364] has not been exclusively devoted to the political sciences; for his information on other subjects is equally matured and extensive. His resources are numerous and multiplied, and can easily be called into operation. In his parliamentary addresses he always displays a deep and intimate knowledge of the subject under discussion, and never fails to edify and instruct if he ceases to delight. He has read history to become a statesman, and not for the mere gratification it affords. He applies the experience of ages, which the historical muse exhibits, to the general purposes of government, and thus reduces to practice the mass of knowledge with which his mind is fraught and embellished. As a legislator he is, perhaps, inferior to no man in this country. The faculty of close and accurate observation by which he is distinguished has enabled him to remark and treasure up every fact of political importance, that has occurred since the organization of the American government; and the citizen, as well as the stranger, is often surprised at the minuteness of his historical details, and the facility with which they are applied. With the various subjects immediately connected with politics, he has made himself well acquainted; and such is the strength of his memory, and the extent of his information, that the accuracy of his statements is never disputed. Mr. King, however, is somewhat of an [365] enthusiast, and his feelings sometimes propel him to do that which his judgment cannot sanction. When parties existed in this country, he belonged to, and was considered to be the leader of what was denominated the federal phalanx; and he has often, perhaps, been induced, from the influence of party feeling, and the violence of party animosity, to countenance measures that must have wounded his moral sensibilities; and that now, when reason is suffered to dictate, cannot but be deeply regretted. From a rapid survey of his political and parliamentary career, it would appear that the fury of party has betrayed him into the expression of sentiments, and the support of measures, that were, in their character, revolting to his feelings; but whatever he may have been charged with, his intentions, at least, were pure, and his exertions, as he conceived, calculated for the public good. He was indeed cried down by a class of emigrants from the mother country, who have far too great a sway in the political transactions of the United States; and though, unquestionably, an ornament to the nation which has given him birth, his countrymen, averse to him from party considerations, joined in the cry, and he became a victim, perhaps, to the duty he owed, and the love he bore to his country. Prejudice, however, does not always continue, and the American people, with that good sense which forms so prominent a feature of their character, are beginning justly to appreciate those [366] virtues and talents, they once so much decried. Mr. King has a sound and discriminating mind, a memory uncommonly tenacious, and a judgment, vigorous, prompt, and decisive. He either wants imagination, or is unwilling to employ a faculty that he conceives only calculated to flatter and delight. His object is more to convince and persuade, by the force of reason, than to amuse the mind by the fantastic embroidery and gaudy festoonings of fancy. His style of eloquence is plain, but bold and manly; replete with argument, and full of intelligence; neither impetuous nor vehement, but flowing and persuasive. His mind, like that of Fox, is historical; it embraces consequences the most distant with rapidity and ease. Facts form the basis of his reasoning. Without these his analysis is defective, and his combinations and deductions are often incorrect. His logic is not artificial, but natural: he abandons its formal divisions, non-essentials, moods, and figures, to weaker minds, and adheres to the substantials of natural reason. Of Mr. King's moral character I can say nothing from my own personal knowledge, as my acquaintance with him has not been long and intimate enough to enable me to judge correctly. I have not, however, heard any thing alleged against it calculated to lessen his reputation as an honourable statesman, or a virtuous member of society. He is wealthy, and has, no doubt, something of pride and hauteur in his manner, [367] offensive to the spirit of republicanism, and inconsistent with the nature of equality; but, as a father, husband, and friend, I have not yet heard him charged with any dereliction of duty, or any violation of those principles which tend to harmonize society, and to unite man to man by the bonds of affection and virtue. I must now beg permission to despatch the portrait of Mr. King, in order to submit to your inspection an imperfect likeness of another member of the same body. This is not the country to look for the blazonry and trappings of ancestry; merit alone claims and receives distinction; and none but the fool or the simpleton, ever pretends to boast of his ancestry and noble blood, or to offer it as a claim to respect or preferment. The people alone form the tribunal to which every aspirant for fame or honour must submit; and they are too enlightened and too independent to favour insignificance, though surrounded by the splendour of wealth, or to countenance stupidity, though descended from those who were once illustrious and great.

James Barbour is a senator from Virginia, his native state.[122] He was in his youth a deputy sheriff of the county in which he was born, and received an education which was merely intended to fit him for an ordinary station in life. He felt, however, superior to his condition, and stimulated by that love of fame which often characterizes genius, he devoted himself to study, and became [368] a practitioner of the law. He rose rapidly in his profession, and soon acquired both wealth and reputation. Like most of the barristers of this country, he conceived that to be a lawyer was necessarily to be a politician, and he rushed forward into public life to extend his fame and enlarge his sphere of action. From a member of the house of delegates he was elevated to the gubernatorial chair of Virginia, and received the highest honour his native state could confer. Gratified thus far in the wishes he had formed, he became desirous to enter on a more enlarged theatre, where his talents would have a greater field of action, and his eloquence a wider range and better effect, and he accepted the situation of senator of the United States.

Mr. Barbour commenced his career with a speech against the establishment of the national bank, which was then in agitation. He had come fraught with prejudices against this mammoth institution, and in the fervor of the moment gave vent to those prejudices in a manner certainly very eloquent, but not very judicious. When he had soberly weighed the good and evil with which it might be attended, the peculiar condition of his country, and the necessity of adopting some scheme by which the difficulties of government should be obviated, and its financial embarrassment relieved, he very candidly confessed the error into which his feelings had betrayed him, and [369] in a speech, conceived and uttered in the very spirit of true eloquence, supported the measure.

Mr. Barbour is, in person, muscular and vigorous, and rather inclined to corpulency. His eyebrows are thick and bushy, which gives to his countenance a little too much the appearance of ferocity, but this is counterbalanced by a peculiar expression in his visage, that conveys a sentiment of mildness and humanity. He seems to be above forty years of age, and is about five feet ten inches high. Of his mind, the prominent characters are brilliancy and fervor. He has more imagination than judgment, and more splendor than solidity. His memory is not very retentive, because it has never been much employed, except to treasure up poetical images, and to preserve the spangles and tinsel of oratory. As an orator, Mr. Barbour has some great defects. His style is too artificial and verbose, and he seems always more solicitous to shine and dazzle than convince or persuade. He labours after splendid images, and strives to fill the ear more with sound than sense. His sentences are sometimes involved and complicated, replete with sesquipedalia verba, and too much charged with "guns, trumpets, blunderbuss, and thunder." He has unfortunately laid down to himself a model, which, with reverence be it spoken, is not the best that could have been adopted. Curran has gone a great way to corrupt the taste of the present age. His powers [370] were certainly very extraordinary, but his taste was bad, and by yielding too much to the impulse of a highly poetical imagination, he filled the mind of his hearer with fine paintings indeed, and left it at last glowing, but vacant, delighted, but unconvinced. Too many of the youths of this country seem to be smitten with the model which he has thus given, and which is certainly calculated to fire an ardent mind, and lead it astray from the principles of correct taste and genuine oratory. Mr. Barbour, however, is frequently not only very fluent but very persuasive, and he often employs his full flowing oratorical style to great advantage in setting off his argument, and in decorating and enforcing his reasoning. From the want of opportunities, his reading, like that of most of the politicians of this country, has been confined, and his range of thought, from the absence of that knowledge which books afford, is necessarily limited. He has, indeed, derived advantages from an association with men of literary and scientific attainments, but he has still much to acquire to render him eminent as a statesman. The contributions, which, from this circumstance, he is compelled to levy on his own unaided native resources, have, however, tended to sharpen his intellectual powers, and to give them vivacity and quickness. Mr. Barbour seldom thinks deeply, but he is always rapid; and though his observations are sometimes trite and ordinary, there is almost always something [371] new and gratifying in the manner in which they are uttered. His mind does not appear organized for long continued investigation, and nature has formed him more for a poet than a mathematician. He is rather too anxious to be thought a great orator, and this over-ruling propensity is manifested even in common conversation; when, instead of ease, simplicity, and conciseness, he discovers the formal elocution of the public speaker, on the most unimportant and incidental subjects. In private circles, Mr. Barbour is always very pleasant, and exhibits a politeness, which, flowing from the heart rather than the head, delights all who have the pleasure of his acquaintance, and renders him an acceptable guest, and an agreeable companion.

There is a native openness and benevolence in his character, which excite the love of all who know him, and which powerfully attract the stranger as well as the friend. He seems superior to the grovelling intrigues of party, and always expresses his feelings, in the bold and lofty language of conscious independence and freedom. There is a marked difference between this gentleman and his brother, Mr. Philip P. Barbour,[123] a member of the House of Representatives, in the respective faculties of their mind; the latter is more logical, and also more laborious and indefatigable. He seems to have a peculiar tact for those constitutional and legal questions which [372] are involved and obscure, and possesses that clearness and vigor of mind necessary to unfold what is complicated, and illuminate what is dark. He casts on such subjects so powerful a light, that we wonder we should ever have doubted, and behold at once the truth, stripped of all its obscurity. The former seldom attempts an analysis of such questions. He reasons, but his reasoning is not so much that of a mathematician, as of an advocate who labours to surprise by his novelty, and to fascinate by the ingenuity of his deductions, and the ease and beauty of his elocution. He has more genius than his brother, but less judgment; more refinement and elegance, but less vigor and energy. It appears to me that there is a vast deal of what may be denominated law mind in this country, which will ultimately reach a point of excellence that must astonish the world. The fondness for the profession of the law, at present, is wonderful; almost every man, whatever be his means of support, or grade in society, if he have children, endeavours to make one of them, at least, a disciple of Coke, or a "fomentor of village vexation," and you cannot enter a court-house, without being astonished at the number of young men, who are either studying or practising the law. This, however, is not a matter of surprise, when we consider the facility with which this profession leads to preferment and distinction, and the ease with which it seems to be acquired. Amidst such [373] a mass of law mind, therefore, as exists here, excellence must hereafter be attained, if it has not now reached its climax; and the Cokes, the Mansfields, and Ellenboroughs of England are, or will soon be, equalled in this country. The future destinies of this republic cannot be fully anticipated; the march of mind is progressive and resistless, and intellectual pre-eminence must be attained where so many inducements are offered to effect, and so few impediments exist to prevent it. Mind is often regulated by the circumstance in which it is placed, and fashioned by the objects by which it is surrounded. This country is, therefore, peculiarly favorable for the expansion and development of the intellectual powers. Physical, as well as moral causes, operate to this end. The eye of an American is perpetually presented with an outline of wonderful magnificence and grandeur; every work of nature is here on a vast and expansive scale; the mountains, and lakes, and rivers, and forests, appear in a wild sublimity of grandeur, which renders the mountains, lakes, and rivers of Europe, mere pigmies in comparison. The political and religious freedom, too, which is here experienced, removes all shackles, and gives an elasticity, a loftiness, and an impetus to the mind that cannot but propel it to greatness. Thus operated upon by moral and physical causes, what must be the ultimate destiny of the people of this country, and the range and expansion of intellect which they [374] will possess? Devoted as they are for the most part to studies and professions, which have a tendency to enlarge and liberalize the mind, and influenced by the causes I have mentioned, it would be worse than stupidity to suppose they could long remain an inferior people, or possibly avoid reaching that point of elevation of which mankind are capable. The law mind of this country has now attained a high degree of splendor, and is in rapid progress to still greater excellence. There are many men, in this country, though so much calumniated by British writers, who would shed a lustre on the bench of that nation, and not suffer by a comparison with some of the brightest luminaries of English jurisprudence.

Before I quit this body of American worthies, I must introduce to your acquaintance, as succinctly as possible, another member of the senate, who, though not so conspicuous as the two former, in the walks of public life, is not inferior to any in this country, in all that constitutes and dignifies the patriot and the statesman. Mr. Roberts is from Pennsylvania.[124] He is a plain farmer, and was, once, I understand, a mechanic. Though he cannot boast of a liberal education, yet nature has given him a mind, which, with early improvement, would have made him prominent in any sphere in life. It is vigorous and powerful in no ordinary degree, and the sophistry of art, and the dexterity of learning, are often foiled and defeated [375] by the unaided and spontaneous efforts of his native good sense. But he has that which is of more sterling advantage, both to himself and his country,—immoveable political and moral integrity. It is gratifying, in this age of corruption and voluptuousness, to contemplate men like Aristides, Fabricius, and Cato. They exhibit to us the true dignity of man, and hold out examples that we must feel delighted to imitate. They show us to what pitch of excellence man is capable of attaining, and rescue the exalted condition of human nature from that odium and disgrace which profligacy and corruption have heaped upon it. No spectacle can be more sublime or more elevating than he, who, in the hour of public danger and trial, and amidst the allurements and fascinations of vice, stands like a rock in the ocean, placid and immoveable, and endures the dangers that surround, and braves the storms and tempests that beat upon him, with undeviating firmness, for the safety of his country and the glory of his God! The mind rests upon such a character as the eye upon a spot of fertility, amidst deserts of sand, and we rise from the blood-stained page of history, and the corruptions of the living world, with a heart filled with love, admiration, and reverence, by the contemplation of the few who have shed an imperishable lustre on the exalted character of man. This description is not exaggerated; it is drawn from nature and truth, and [376] fancy has nothing to do with the picture. But I must now hasten to finish my portraits of American characters.

Mr. Bagot,[125] the English minister to this government, appears to be about thirty-five years of age. He is tall, elegant, and rather graceful in his person, with a countenance open and ingenuous, an English complexion, and eyes mild though dark. He has ingratiated himself with the Americans, by the real or affected simplicity of his manners, and by assimilating himself to their usages and customs. He has thrown aside the reserve and hauteur of the English character, as not at all suited to the meridian of this country, and attends to all with equal courtesy and politeness. I can say nothing of the powers of his mind, but they do not appear to be more than ordinary. It has always seemed to me very strange policy on the part of the British cabinet, to appoint ministers to this country of inferior capacity and inconsiderable reputation, while the Americans send to our court only their most prominent and leading men, who have distinguished themselves by their ability and their eloquence.

The French minister, M. Hyde de Neuville,[126] is a "fat, portly gentleman," with a broad chest, big head, and short neck, which he seems almost incapable of turning ad libitum. He is full of [377] Bourbon importance and French vivacity; has petits soupers every Saturday evening during the winter, and spends his summer at the springs, or his country residence, in extolling the virtues of his beloved Louis le desiré. I do not think that M. Neuville, though an amiable, and, I understand, a benevolent man, has that kind of talent which would qualify him for the station he holds, or that, in the event of any difficulty arising between this country and France, he could counteract the intrigues of diplomatic ingenuity, or benefit his nation, by inducing the American cabinet, though I believe he is highly esteemed, to adopt any measure not manifestly advantageous to the United States. He has been many years a resident of this country, and was driven from France by the persecutions of Buonaparte. He is said to have evinced for his exiled countrymen much feeling and interest, and to have given them, while strangers and unknown in a foreign land, all the aid he could afford. His acts of benevolence certainly redound to the credit of his heart, and I should be sorry to say any thing that would disparage the qualities of his head. He is too much occupied with his own, or other people's concerns, to attend to the little or the complicated intrigues of courts, and though he resides here as a representative, yet he now represents a cypher.

[378] 4th.—To tea with J. C. Wright, Esq., to meet a young man, Mr. Dawson, who is giving up a school here to go as "Teacher to the Cherokee nation of Indians." Much enthusiasm takes him there; little will be needed to bring him back again. Since my return, Washington has been visited by some very distant and interesting tribes of Indians, with the following account of whom I have been favoured by a friend residing there.

Some account of the Indians who visited all the Chief Cities in the Eastern States, and made a long stay in Washington in the winter of 1821.

These Indians were the chiefs and half-chiefs of tribes from the most western part of this continent with which we are at all acquainted, and came under the guidance of Major O'Fallan[127] from the Counsel Bluffs.[128] All of them were men of large stature, very muscular, having fine open countenances, with the real noble Roman nose, dignified in their manners, and peaceful and quiet in their habits. There was no instance of drunkenness among them during their stay here. The circumstances which led to their visit were singular. A missionary, who had been amongst them a few years back, on renewing his visit recently, found an old chief, with whom he was acquainted, degraded from his rank, and another appointed in his place. This led to inquiries after the cause, which proved to be that this chief having, during a considerable [379] absence from his tribe, visited some of the cities of the whites, carried back such a report of their houses, ships, numbers, wealth, and power, that they disbelieved his account, and degraded him as a man unworthy of being longer their chief. They inquired of their missionaries, who confirmed the statement, and they met in council with other tribes, and resolved that a deputation should, in company with the representative of the great father, "see if things were so," and if they were, the chief should be reinstated. They have returned, saying the "half was not told them." Red Jacket[129] (of whom you have heard) used to say, that "the great spirit was too great a being to overlook red men; that he listened to the talk of red men as well as to the talk of white men;" but these natives of the forest thought the great spirit favoured white men more than red. An anecdote is related of one of the chiefs (a Pawnee) which is a well authenticated fact, and recorded by Dr. Morse in his account of visits to the western regions.[130] The tribe of the Pawnees had taken a woman prisoner from a neighbouring tribe with whom they were at war, and, as was their custom, they made every preparation to offer her a sacrifice to the great spirit. Every thing was prepared, the wood, the green withes, and the fire, and the victim, when this chief suddenly flew and seized her, carried her under his arm to a neighbouring thicket, where [380] he had prepared horses for her and himself, and riding away at speed, he, after three days' travelling through the woods, returned her in safety to her tribe and friends. This event was considered by the Pawnee tribe as an interference of the great spirit in her favour, and on the return of the chief no questions were asked him on that subject, nor has a woman been offered a sacrifice by that tribe since. As a compliment justly due to his gallant exploit, a number of ladies in this city had a medal made, and presented to him in due form, in the presence of all the Indians; on one side of which was represented the preparation for the sacrifice, and on the reverse the chief running off with a woman under his arm, and two horses stationed at a short distance, surmounted by this inscription, "To the bravest of the Braves," (the Pawnees are also called the Braves). These Indians excited so much interest from their dignified personal appearance, and from their peaceful manner, that they received a great number of rich presents, sufficient to fill six large boxes in New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington; these were forwarded before they left us. Their portraits, which are gone with them, were taken in oil by Mr. King in their native costume, buffalo skins, with the hair inside, turned back at the neck and breast, which looked very handsome, like fur collars. Eight, however, the chiefs and [381] the squaw, Mr. King copied and keeps himself.[131] He received 400 dollars from Uncle Sam for it. There was a notice in the papers that the Indians would dance and display their feats in front of the President's house on a certain day, which they did to at least 6,000 persons. They shewed their manner of sitting in council, their dances, their war whoop, with the noises, gesticulations, &c. of the centinels on the sight of an approaching enemy. They were in a state of perfect nudity, except a piece of red flannel round the waist and passing between the legs. They afterwards performed at the house of his Excellency M. Hyde de Neuville. They were painted horribly, and exhibited the operation of scalping and tomahawking in fine style.

The Otta half-chief[132] and his squaw have taken tea with and frequently visited us. She was a very good natured, mild woman, and he shewed great readiness in acquiring our language, being inquisitive, retaining any thing that he was once informed, and imitating admirably the tones of every word. He spent the evening with us before they finally left the city. I took himself and squaw into Dr. Barber's room, and opened gently the skeleton case. He looked slyly in, and the wife wanted to look, but he put himself in an attitude to represent a dead person, and said, "no good, no good." She still wanted to see, but he would [382] not let her. Three others came afterwards wanting to see it, who, when I opened it, raised themselves up in a dignified manner and said, "very good," one of them taking hold of the hand said, "how you do."[133] The Otta half-chief and squaw afterwards saw it together and were very well pleased. Our children were all full of play with them, and the squaw nursed the younger ones. Margaret wanted to go with them. The calumet[134] of peace (the tomahawk pipe and their own sumach tobacco) frequently went round, and they expressed a wish to see us again.

I have recorded much of the vocabulary of these Indians, and would transcribe it, but have not room. They count by tens as we do, for instance, noah, two; taurny, three; crabraugh, ten; crabraugh noah, twenty; crabraugh taurny, thirty, &c. They hold polygamy as honourable; one wife, no good; three, good; four, very good. In their talks with the residents they shew no wish to adopt our habits.

5th.—To dine with Dr. Dawes at his poor, worn out farm, of which he is already tired. The Doctor seems one of the best Englishmen I have met in America.

Sunday, 6th.—Dr. Rice[135] preaching this day in Congress-hall before the senate, and representatives, [383] called the assembly, polite, just, respected, respectable, and deemed it unnecessary to mention sin and human depravity.

American husbands abound in outward politeness and respect to their wives; and gentlemen, in general, are excessively attentive to the fair sex, rising and leaving their seats, even at church, to accommodate the late coming ladies. I gave much offence, on a recent occasion, by my want of gallantry in this particular. The meanest white woman is here addressed by the title of Madam.

It may also be mentioned, as a proof of superior civilization and refinement in manners, that a stranger cannot, in this country, enter and join a party or social circle, without being publicly presented by name, and exchanging names and hearty shakes of the hand with all present. Should he, however, happen to enter and take his seat without submitting to this indispensable ceremony, he must remain dumb and unnoticed, as an intruder, or as a person whose character renders him unfit for introduction, and for the acquaintance of any. But, on the other hand, when properly presented, he is instantly at home; and ever after, at any distance of time and place, acknowledged as entitled to the goodwill and friendship of all who thus met him. Friendships are thus formed and propagated, and the boundaries of society in the new world extended. It would hence be impracticable for me to be half an hour, as has happened to me in England, [384] unknowingly present with a person of distinction; and many unpleasant mistakes and misunderstandings are thus obviated.

8th.—I heard Mr. Speaker Clay deliver a splendid speech of four hours long on the Missouri slave-question. His voice fills the house; his action is good and generally graceful.

I met this evening Mr. Smith, a young gentleman from Lincolnshire, the fellow-traveller of Mr. Parr, who walked through the west, and admired all! He is not determined on continuing here; he has a good farm in England. He and Mr. Parr have been introduced by a member of Congress to the President, who sat half an hour familiarly talking with them, in a plain, domestic, business-like manner.

Sunday, 13th.—From the Speaker's chair in Congress-hall, I heard the young, learned, and reverend professor Everett, of Cambridge University, (aged 29) preach most eloquently to the President and legislature of this great empire.[136] His voice, bewitchingly melodious, yet manly, filled the house, and made every word tell, and every ear hear. "Time is short," was the subject. His discourse was full of high praise of this land, it being, he said, (in my own language) "the only resting place for liberty, who, when driven hence, must ascend in her pure, white robes to heaven. No more new continents will be discovered for her reception, and therefore let this nation wisely [385] keep her asylum here." He then spoke very warmly against kings, lords, and priests, and what he called the toleration of man and his rights. "In England they tolerate liberty; and what is liberty there? A shadow! But here, a substance! There her existence is only nominal. She is mocked by her very name." Independent of its moral instruction, this sermon was a fine specimen of oratory, and greatly interested the members of both houses, who very cordially shook the preacher by the hand. Though not forgetting slavery in his discourse, the professor seemed too partial to it.

This gentleman had just returned from his tour through Europe, where he visited Sir Walter Scott, and other distinguished literati, and preached in London.

I met Mr. Lowndes, the Howard of America, at Mr. Elliott's. He says, that "Harmony presents much moral philosophy in practice. Flesh and blood had hard work at first, but now they have but few desires to gratify. Nature seems under the hatches, and they have little to wish, want, or fear. But theirs is a stagnant life."

14th.—Read Mr. John Wright's pamphlet on Slavery, in which he uses my name in reference to my negro letter, and shows very clearly the evil effects of slavery on the character of this country, and proves the unalterable nature of the black man's right to liberty, and its benefits.

[386] Mr. Rufus King, a member for New York, a gentlemanly English-like speaker, confines himself to business, and to the grand fundamental principles of every political question, and the consequences likely to result from extending slavery over the continent. "In time," says he, "you will enable the blacks to enslave the whites. Why, therefore, should we of the free, be compelled to suffer with you of the slave states?"

18th.—I supped with Dr. Alison,[137] Chaplain to Congress, a gentleman possessing every variety of knowledge. He is the friend and correspondent of the Ex-presidents Jefferson and Adams, and of the present President, and is known all over the country by his virtues. This gentleman was visited by the black Baron de Vasey, and his friend, from St. Domingo, who supped with him. On their quitting the room, the doctor's black servant set up a laugh, which might be heard by the baron, and all, far and near. "What's the matter, Sam?" said the doctor. "Why, two niggers sat and took tea with my massa, at the same table!!" In Virginia, the doctor complained of his fears of being murdered by the negroes, one hundred of whom were owned by his hostess. She cried and said, "she hoped the Lord would protect her." "Oh, no! you must not look to the Lord for it; it is not there." She said she would free them, if she could find any body to support them. Freed slaves must quit the states, or be sold by it for slaves again! [387] Colonel Taylor has a black uncle, a slave, for his body guard, and most owners are related to their black cattle. A gentleman of Washington, too kind-hearted to whip his house-negroes himself, leaves it to his wife, a fashionable, beautiful female, holding, and going to levees, yet able to cow-hide her negroes, whose screams, under the lash, scare Mrs. Little and family. A cow-hide is no uncommon appendage of ladies here!

Squire Simpson, an old emigrant from England, whom I have before mentioned as living near this city, once acted as a magistrate. Two parties came before him for justice, but neither of them seemed disposed to submit to his worship's decision. At last, the most choleric of the two thus addressed Mr. Simpson: "Well! I don't see, I guess, that we can settle it fairly. So here's at you. I'll fight you, Squire!" Both then went out, magistrate and man, and decided the affair by battle. Simpson was victor.

24th.—Revisited Dr. Dawes, who is full of improving his farm by a summer fallow, and turning it into grass without a crop. He has paid only half the cash for his farm of 500 acres, because the title cannot be completed. Any one, says ex-squire Simpson, would take it off his hands. The doctor deems, as does Sir H. Davy, that plaster of Paris is the natural food of plants; and it is found, more or less, in almost all soils, particularly in England, [388] where manuring with plaster is found to have but little effect, but in this country vice versâ.

Visited Mr. Plant, who holds 400 acres, all cleared and enclosed long ago, and exhausted too, at 100 dollars a year rent, offered for sale at fifteen dollars an acre, poor but useful, light, sandy loam, shining bright with silvery mica. He manages this estate without a capital, by the labour of himself, one slave and a boy; he hires none. He has sold Bradford's Rest, a large estate, costing seven dollars, for 20 dollars per acre; well sold!

26th.—I rode this day to the bench of his worship, Squire Arden, with Doctor Dawes, who was served with a warrant for a small debt for goods. I carried the Doctor's diploma, to prove him a physician, authorized to write prescriptions. The plaintiff is a neighbour of the Doctor's, who had prescribed for his family, and therefore pleaded a set off. The plaintiff then swore he would prove that the Doctor never was sent for nor came! The Doctor considers almost all here as unprincipled and conspiring against his cash. Quitting the diploma for the plough, he gave up a practice of 400 or 500 pounds a year, at Wisbeach, in England, where he was highly esteemed. His humanity here to poor exiles, distinguishes him as a patriot and a philanthropist, and entitles him to the applause and goodwill of all mankind. In September last, poor John Steed, the English Quaker, [389] was fed, housed, physicked, and restored to health, by this benevolent man. Steed was returning to England; but how to return without money? There was money for him! My warm-hearted friend, the watchman, a dear friend of the Rev. I. Leathes, brother-in-law of the late Bishop of Bristol, put into Steed's empty hands a purse, amply sufficient for his land and sea expenses. This was noble! It is well to praise man for his humanity to a suffering brother, but better to ascribe all the glory to his Maker, who gives all, and blesses him with a generous heart, and who has promised that "He who deviseth liberal things, by liberal things shall he stand."

March 11th.—I revisited the astronomical, mathematical, and philosophical Mr. W. Elliott, dining on vegetables only. He states that it is impossible for a sensible, honest Englishman to prefer this country to his own; and in knowing that he has quitted England for ever, he experiences a feeling indescribably painful. To return no more is a word next to death. Although he would not, at present, desire to live in England, yet he would not advise any to quit who can live in it. The soil here is unfit for man, and for an Englishman particularly. Both mind and body barbarize and degenerate. He feels, at first, sanguine, but soon after he begins to judge and compare, and finds that though the government allured him here, yet that all is not gold that glitters. He becomes [390] weak and emaciated, and drifts into the habits of the country, where he is no longer the man he thought himself at first. The labouring poor here are far behind, and more miserable than the poor, bold peasantry of England. No man needs labour here long, if he would work and not drink excessively; but he drinks and is undone.

Sunday, 12th.—Met J. G. Wright, Esq. who has consumed, in segars, for his own use, since he began smoking, twenty years since, 700 barrels of flour, at the present price. One hundred and fifty dollars annually is the cost of his smoking.

14th.—The Hon. T. Law brought, it is said, half a million sterling with him to this country, but has lost two-thirds of it. He married the niece of General Washington, the most beautiful lady in Virginia; and, at her uncle's request, Mr. Law settled on her, in case they parted, 15,000 dollars a year. The event, which seemed thus to be anticipated, soon after occurred; for Mr. Law visiting England soon after his marriage and leaving his wife in America, she, during his absence, eloped with a young dashing officer in the army. Mr. Law returned only to part with one of the most accomplished ladies in the land. She still lives in high style, and her house is the resort of the most fashionable parties.[138]

By Mr. Sutton, an English gentleman from Cheshire, I was this day introduced to an hour's conversation with Mr. John Law, a lawyer of this [391] city, son of Mr. Thomas Law, above mentioned. This gentleman occupies a mean office, but seems very sprightly and acute, and though a plain republican, has much of the blood of the Laws in him. He states that he is in expectation of receiving 80,000l. from Sir Wm. T——, for purchasing land in the wilds of the west, which is to increase in value greatly in twenty years. For the same purpose, he also wishes to get 150,000l. from English capitalists, who never mean to emigrate, but who only wish to invest money in western lands. There are several millions of acres, some of which, military lands in Illinois, are selling at 37 and 50 cents an acre. Mr. Law proposes to be the agent, and live on the spot, to settle poor emigrants from England on it, by finding them implements and money for commencing, which is to be repaid in produce. They are to live seven years rent free. He would make it his business to interest emigrant societies in favor of this speculation, by which the posterity of such capitalists are to benefit greatly. Mr. Law is to receive only one quarter of the cash for his own trouble, that is, only about 37,000l. or 40,000l. out of the 150,000l.

Birkbeck (he says) must be rich in ten years; which ten years of life he admits a man must sacrifice before he can arrive at comforts. Ohio, he states, has proved what time can do for a wilderness; and I say, that time has proved that those [392] enriching improvements made by hands, and not by time, can be bought any where for less than they cost in that State, or almost in any other, Kentucky perhaps excepted.

A reflection or two on litigation!—The Judges here have not legal knowledge enough for their station; and of course not weight of character or dignity sufficient to fill it well. Counsellor Jones and Key, of "star-spangled banner" fame, influence, and carry their honours almost as they please.[139] The bar is greater than the bench!

Litigation frequently arises here from the imaginary independence which one man has, or fancies he has of others, to show which, on the least slip, a suit is the certain result. It is bad for the people that law is cheap, as it keeps them constantly in strife with their neighbours, and annihilates that sociability of feeling which so strongly characterizes the English. From the constant litigation amongst the people of this country arise that antisocial apathy, and want of those kindly feelings of the heart, which shew themselves on all occasions, in the conduct and character of the people of the old country. There were more suits for debt in Washington county court, in a late term, (seventeen hundred), than, perhaps, in all England! Further comments are left to the reader.

Judge Parsons, while only an advocate, completely upset the evidence against a prisoner who employed him, and that in the following manner. [393] The witnesses against the prisoner were all sailors. The advocate disguised himself as a sailor, and offered to bet them twenty dollars that the accused would not be hanged. They readily accepted the bet, and when they came, over anxious to give evidence and convict the prisoner at the bar, the learned counsel confounded them with their bet, the court spurned their evidence, and the prisoner, though guilty, escaped by this learned stratagem. At another time, in an important case of law, where several parties were interested, he was requested to plead, he said, "No! I cannot see my way clear." They then offered him 1,000 dollars for his neutrality, which he took. The other side then came. "No," said he, as before. "Well then," said they, "if you will not plead for us, we will give you 1,000 dollars not to be against us;" which sum he took, and left other advocates to talk.

Edward C——, late in the service of Joseph Vipan, Esq. of Sutton, is here elevated from the smock frock and stable, to the dress and society of a merchant in this city. So great is the change and so mighty the tyranny of custom, that what were his duties last year, would now be a disgrace to him. Another would-be gentleman, in the same store, was requested to assist his employer, a polished Englishman, in rolling a barrel of dried fish out of the cellar into a cart only. "Oh! no, that is nigger's work," said he; and then left a good situation within two hours after [394] he came to it. Such are the blessed effects of slavery!

15th.—Met Mr. Cooper, an English gentleman, at Washington, who has grown comfortable rich, and has recently bought about 300 acres of land, near this city, so exhausted, that no produce can be had from it for years to come. The system pursued here, if carried into the old country, would soon lay it waste, more effectually than either fire or sword. It is more difficult to raise a hundred dollars here than a hundred pounds in England. Individuals, who are rich in land, are generally without cash, and have their personalty seized, and sold for small debts, of a few dollars only.

16th.—All kinds of fruit and vegetables (potatoes excepted) are now remarkably scarce, and enormously dear, insomuch that they are not seen, during the winter and spring, except on the tables of the rich. In summer they cost as much or more than butcher's meat; yet thousands of acres, all round the city, close to water and manure, are to be had by any body free of rent! In summer the potatoes were one dollar fifty cents per bushel; now, eastern potatoes sell for 50 to 75 cents, and nothing but potatoes come on the tables of the bulk of the people. What is the cause? "Why," says one, "the gardeners get rich and ride in their single horse chaise, because the business is so profitable. They have no competition. [395] Whatever they send to market is sold only at their own price. It is their will to have 150 per cent, above the value of an article. Rather than undersell, they would carry home their vegetables for the cattle and pigs!" So that the will of the gardener governs the price, although the means of opposition are open to all! The poor farmer comes to market with his flour, but his will is to take just what is offered him. He is not in the gardener's secret of insisting and willing to have ten dollars a barrel for flour, when worth only four dollars and a half. But what is the real cause of the high price of vegetables in this soil and climate of Washington? Why, no body gardens; not even the rich; because they can buy cheaper than they can raise them; and it is found that none but the poor, humble man, who has no capital, will attempt it, because others can employ capital more profitably than in gardening. It is therefore an undoubted fact, that the soil and climate do not admit of vegetables being raised, at a much lower price than that at which they are actually sold. In summer, continual watering and shading are absolutely necessary, and the soil is poor into the bargain; insomuch that the seed rises so weak, that the sun would burn up the plants instantly, without great attention to shade and watering, and if this were not so, myriads of grasshoppers would eat all in spite of any measures for their preservation.

[396] Winter Prices of Garden-stuff

Winter greens, lightly put in, one quarter dollar per peck.

Spinach, the same.

Cabbages, of about four oz. weight, yellow and bad, having been buried from the frost, four cents each.

Potatoes, seventy-five cents a bushel.

Carrots, bad and scabby, 9d. sterling, to one quarter dollar per peck.

23rd.—Commodore Stephen Decatur[140] fell this day in a duel, having killed five men in the same way himself. He swore shamefully at the doctors while dying, because they could not extract the fatal ball from his bowels. He is called by the National Intelligencer, "One of the bright stars of Columbia, set for ever!" And the country is summoned to mourn for him. The president and the heads of departments, with military and naval officers and citizens, walked in procession at his funeral. The laws of heaven and earth, on this subject, are here quite insulted, by common consent. A lady of this district, hearing that her husband was gone to fight a duel, fifty miles off, sent an express, charging that he should be brought home a corpse rather than disgraced. It is a rule here always to take skilful aim, and if one party chooses to reserve his fire, he may go up and shoot the other, if he does not beg for his life. [397] A gentleman once would not beg it, but the other said, "If your life is not worth asking for, it is not worth taking!" And so fired in the air.

A sinecure, or something in the nature of one, is held by Joseph Paulding, Esq. of Washington.[141] The holder of this situation is enjoined to write in defence of the American character and government, and at the same time to vilify the British. Mr. Colvin, late editor of the National Register, in a critique on Lancaster's lectures, says, "that we (meaning America) are more virtuous than the people of other nations, I cannot believe. It is sufficient that we are equal, not worse." That there is no great superiority of moral worth on the part of America, the following anecdote will prove. A gentleman seduced the sister of his own wife, and then, to hide her disgrace, disguised his wife in the uniform of a lieutenant of the United States' navy, and married the young woman to her. The lieutenant of course went to sea immediately, and, poor man! was never heard of more. The nuptials were celebrated by candle-light, and all the gay company, except the priest, were parties to this ingenious trick!

24th.—Flour now is only four dollars and a half a barrel, five bushels to a barrel. After hauling, grinding, and the cost of the empty barrel, are deducted, it is seen that the farmer only receives two dollars fifty cents, for five bushels of fine wheat. Under such circumstances, where is profit?

[398] Sunday, 26th.—I left this city and old friends, to return, perhaps, no more. At Baltimore, on my way to Philadelphia, I met Joseph Lancaster, teaching a few small children.

28th.—Again at Philadelphia, where British and French goods are selling at 200 per cent. under cost. So great is the distress for money, that the regular merchants are sending their stock to auction. I visited Mr. Potter, an English merchant, who has been established here ever since the peace of 1786. He is now rich, but loves England still. He was intimately known to the Duke of Kent. He says that corruption is rising into an English sense, even here; and adding the state and general taxes together, they make a sum little short of English taxation.

29th.—Six hundred prisoners are this day in a state of mutiny, endeavouring to escape by violence from the Philadelphia state prison. One is shot, and three or four are wounded. The mail robbers now in custody killed the driver of the mail, but they have restored all the money, and pray that they may not be hanged.

31st.—I parted with my old friend C., who promised to meet me again at Baltimore, in June. I reached Newcastle, Delaware State, and visited its old Golgotha, on a bluff, near the river Delaware, which washes the feet of the dead, exposes a great part of the coffin, and bleaches the skulls and bones of men. Numbers of horses tread on the [399] graves and break in the coffins, for here is nothing to protect these bones from insult.

I saw the effect of the late freezing rain on the trees, which, over an extent of country six times as large as England, has despoiled trees as completely as if chain shot had passed through them all. The trees and shrubs are laden with ice, a weight ten times that of their own boughs. Many farmers lost nearly all their timber and orchards: a ship also was upset by the great weight of the ice adhering to her rigging.

April 7th.—I met with a black gentleman who has bought a beautiful farm, with a good house and improvements, six miles only from Philadelphia, at twenty dollars an acre, at a sheriff's sale. A law has just passed to prevent any more selling under two thirds of a fair valuation. A quaker whom I met, states that Joseph Lancaster injured himself by going to Baltimore. He did not succeed at Philadelphia, the only place where he could have succeeded, because he expected more attention from the inhabitants of that city, than they ever pay to any body.

Visited Peale's museum,[142] a fine collection of native and foreign curiosities, amongst the former of which are the skeleton of a mammoth, 15 feet high, and horns, nine feet long, under the belly of which, as under an arch, a horse might run full gallop. I crept down the throat of an alligator. [400] Several bodies of Indian chiefs are here to be seen dried, standing in their usual dresses and attitudes, as well as some Otaheiteans.[143] There is also the skin from the thighs and legs of an Indian, tanned by Indians into fine leather, for thus they use their prisoners taken in battle. I saw the manuscript of a poem of Major André, penned about two months before his execution.[144] Here is also a fine collection of national portraits.

8th.—I this day set sail from Philadelphia for Charleston, in the General Wade Hampton, and anchored at Newcastle in the evening.

Sunday, 9th.—I rode with the captain, in his chariot, to the beautiful seat and extensive powder mills of E. S. Dupont, Esq.[145] on the Brandywine creek, a fine stream full of natural falls and working many mills. We went for 500 barrels of gunpowder. Mr. Dupont, who pressingly invited us to dine, seems a liberal, intelligent Frenchman, of large capital, which sometimes vanishes by explosion, together with the doors and windows of his elegant mansion.

During this twenty miles ride, I observed that thorn quicks are here generally used as an outward fence, but they are badly managed. I saw, on poor wet lands, large heaps of lime, formed by oyster shells and stone, gathered and burnt for manure; in this way cheaply turning stone into bread.

We received this evening three or four physicians [401] and other passengers, to the number of ten or twelve, on board the Wade Hampton.

10th.—At three, this morning, we got under weigh, sailing into the bay of Delaware, and by noon arrived opposite to the light-house.

A family (says the Captain) from England, of the name of Clementson, recently bought an estate from a scoundrel old countryman, of the name of Watson, living at Philadelphia, at a price 200 or 300 per cent. above its value. They paid in part about 6,000 dollars, but being unable to pay the remainder, and having no written contract, he induced them to quit and go to the wilds of Ohio, where, he said, he had much land at a low price, which they should have for the money in his hand. He also kindly gave them a letter of credit to his agent there; but on arriving, they found that he was unknown, and had no land, nor agent; and they were in consequence forced to sell their horses, waggon, and every necessary, to enable them, in unspeakable distress, to return to prosecute this scoundrel; but they had no evidence against him, and therefore found it advisable to lose their money without going to law. Having about 2,000 dollars left, they purchased and stocked a farm bigger and better than the one for which they were to have paid 8,000, or 10,000 dollars. Old countrymen, it is said, make the most complete rascals.

11th.—Now at sea, exposed to head-winds and sea-sickness. An Irish gentleman from Missouri, [402] states that last week, on board the steam-boat, he met a black archbishop and several of his inferior clergy. This most reverend father in God was endeavouring to prove that Adam, Noah, and all the prophets, and patriarchs, down to Jesus Christ, were blacks, and that a small portion of mankind, and that the worst, are whites, of whom Cain is the progenitor.

The Missouri Irishman has invested 50,000 dollars in land, the advantages of which he deems to be yet dubious and prospective. He says that society is bad, and that the people are unprincipled.

12th.—Two old German gentlemen, heroes of the revolution, now on board, state, that they knew the accomplished and unfortunate Major André. When taken by three militiamen, in the capacity of a British spy, endeavouring to seduce West Point, he was dressed as a citizen, instead of appearing in the regimentals of his country, which greatly aggravated his crime. He offered his gold watch and purse, and large pecuniary compensation to be released, but the three men were firm. Both sides regretted, and were unwilling to witness, his death; and the American government would have saved him, if the British would have given up the traitor Arnold. He was fairly tried, and no precipitation evinced towards him. He thanked the court martial for their gentlemanly treatment, submitted to his fate as a matter of course, and [403] with great firmness prepared himself for it. Three months elapsed between his apprehension and execution. But when he was led out to execution, and saw the gallows instead of the rifle, his firmness, in some measure, forsook him. He was elegantly dressed in his martial suit, and on giving his cravat to his waiting man, only said, "I die for the honour of my king and country;" at which General Green, the American commander, who presided in the midst of the surrounding army on this sad occasion, shook his head, and observed, "No! you die for your cowardice, and like a coward!"

General Washington signed the order for his death with great reluctance; but the army were dissatisfied and demanded the sacrifice. The example was necessary and salutary, and in its general consequence calculated to deter men of honour and respectability from such military meanness. Major André hoped to the last to escape. The tories, of whom he was one, had previously murdered some of the citizens and officers, in consequence of which, General Washington determined on retaliation by executing one of the British tory officers then prisoners, and ordered them to draw lots to decide who of their number must die. The lot fell on Sir Charles Asgill, who, but for the French influence of Count Vergennes, and a most pathetic letter from the baronet's mother, would have been executed.[146]

[404] The quakers, about New Jersey, were very loyal, and locked up the wells, and withheld all aid from the rebels!

Sunday, 16th.—Fine breeze; sailing by Cape Hatteras, to pass which occupied two days. A strong current of air is here found, rushing to the land, accompanied generally with tempestuous gales. A gap in the Allegany mountains, towards which this current rushes, is said to be the cause.

18th.—At three o'clock this afternoon I landed at Charleston, and found all nature in its most beautiful attire. Peas and all kinds of summer vegetables are in great abundance, and the peach-trees full of fruit. I found that my much respected friend, N. Russell, Esq. had died only a fortnight since; he kindly inquired after me in his extremity.

19th.—I met my old shipmate, Mr. Moses Wood. I bought twilled nankeen trowsers for two dollars and a half. London clothes of good and best kinds sell at lower prices than in London.

Rattlesnakes.—A gentleman informed me that he once shot a rattlesnake as thick as his thigh, and 26 years old. Its age is known by its tail. It was near biting him. A neighbour of his left his house in search of his swine, and being long away, his wife went after him and found him dead, killed by a snake, to the bite of which the poor deceased had applied a quid of tobacco, then found sticking on the wound. Another neighbour, [405] who was also bitten, managed to walk home before he fell, but died very soon after his arrival. I was told, also, of a planter, out with his dogs and rifle after a deer, which he shot; but on bringing it to lay on the horse, a rattlesnake struck the man, who was found dead, with the buck and horse, which being tied to a tree was starved to death. Thus they were all found dead in one heap together.

20th.—By conversation with Judge King, to whom I presented J. Wright's pamphlet on slavery, I learn that my negro case was much noticed, and its exposure much and indignantly regretted. Mr. King says that it was indiscreet in me to report facts, except from the evidence of my own senses! If no testimony is to be received, but that of our own eyes, half the evidence in the world is worthless. The Carolinians love slavery, and hate all who hate it. Both Mr. King and Mr. Duncan state, that in consequence of that affair, and of my being a foreigner, a stranger in a strange land, if Gregory should prosecute me for an advertisement, which I found it necessary, in pursuing the claims on the Rugeley property, to publish against him, I should meet with but little mercy from the jury!

21st.—Called on Patrick Duncan, Esq., and took a final leave of him and his beautiful gardens, in which are oranges, figs, sugar-canes, pomegranates, and the prairie grass of South America, soft as silk in hand.

[406] Received, from my warm-hearted Irish friend, Mr. Wood, 50 dollars, an unsolicited loan, although he knows me not. Here is faith, greater than almost any I have yet found in America.

The slave-owners, in this state, must maintain all their helpless and infirm slaves, or kill them privately. They cannot become chargeable to the parish, or state. O humanity, where art thou!!! As a punishment for the lassitude of age, or the idleness of youth, a nigger is stripped naked, well flogged, then dressed all over with treacle (or molasses) and hung up by his heels on a tree, in a swamp full of flies and mosquitoes, which lick up the sweets, and sting and bleed him dreadfully into the bargain. He is then a living lump of inflammation. What ingenious torture this! how refined! how honourable to the taste and ingenuity of a nation, the freest of the free, and who boast of superabundant polish and civilization!

When with my cousin, Major Rugely, in May last, I was presented with a beautiful black female baby, that could just creep, and which was given and intended to be sent as a keepsake to my lady in England; but I, not being qualified for a nurse at sea, nor indeed by land, declined this well-intended gift. The Major then possessed a poor negro, who wishing to die, was constantly detected in the act of eating dirt or lumps of earth, a habit which procured for him a cow-hiding daily! I might have had him, and branded him with my own [407] brand, F. As cattle it is necessary so to distinguish one herd from another, and if they stray, or are stolen, to advertise their persons, correctly describing the mark, or brand, which is deeply burnt in, and never obliterated, unless it is cut out!

Sunday, 23rd.—I bade, this morning, a willing and final farewell to Charleston city, and to all its bugs, mosquitoes, negroes, and alligators, and a race of people, many of whom seem not much better than they. I left behind me some copies of J. Wright's pamphlet on slavery, for his Excellency, Governor Geddiss, the Attorney-General Haines, the editor of the Courier, Mr. Thomas Mitchel, and Mr. Judge King, the latter of whom promised to keep his a profound secret. The press seems here to be more enslaved than under the most despotic government. At night I found myself at sea, 60 miles from Charleston, in the President for New York. Fare, 25 dollars.

25th.—I saw two young alligators emigrating to the north. Mr. Morse (the son of the geographer, Dr. Morse)[147] states, that at New Haven University, Connecticut, an education of four years costs only 1,000 dollars, board included. The same gentleman states, that in Connecticut, republicanism and equality exist in greater purity than in any other part of the union. The farmers and people generally live economically and comfortably, surrounded with a cheap abundance of all the [408] necessaries of life, but they keep no domestic servants, male or female. They are their own servants. As to negroes, scarcely one is to be seen in a day's travel. The people generally are so well educated in this state, that almost any man is qualified for a schoolmaster in any of the sister states. Dr. Paley's moral philosophy is a text book in their college.

26th.—A young gentleman on board, from the state of Albania, says that Mobile, out of 600, lost 530 inhabitants, by the yellow fever last summer. In winter the population is from 2 to 3,000.

A dashing English gentleman travelling through this state with a white servant behind him, rode up to a one-room log-tavern, and begged the landlord to let him have a room to himself, which was agreed to. In a few minutes up came two native travellers, equals, who entered without ceremony, when the Englishman began to curse the landlord for permitting the intrusion. He replied, that he meant that the gentleman should have the room to himself until other travellers came up.

29th.—At ten this morning we made Sandyhook light-house. The scenery here, all the way up to the city of New York, is delightful. Perhaps the views presented by this city and neighbourhood are unequalled, both as it respects the beauties of nature and the works of art. I landed at six o'clock, and was introduced by Messrs. Morse [409] and Co. to the boarding-house of Mrs. Mudge, where I met Mr. Dwight, a brother of the late eminent Dr. Dwight, now editor of the New York Advertiser.[148] In person this gentleman is said to be much like the Doctor.

Sunday, 30th.—I accompanied Mr. Morse to the splendid Presbyterian church of the eloquent Dr. Romaine,[149] whose prayers are the most appropriate in manner and matter, and whose sermons are, with the exception of Dr. Storton's, superior to any I have heard in America. On this day, the appearance of this large city is most orderly and christian-like. This laudable change is attributed to Sunday-schools. All places of worship are thronged. How unlike Washington city! Mr. Morse states that not only in New York, but in all the east, a religious feeling generally pervades the people.

May 1st.—Passed over to Brooklyn, a beautiful gay-looking village of great extent in Long Island, in quest of my old friend, and western fellow-traveller, Mr. Wheeler, whom I found three miles from the city, living on a hired farm of about 30 acres of arable land, and six in wood, or rather cedar, on which is a beautiful house, to which I was warmly welcomed. It consists of six small rooms and piazzas on each side, standing in an orchard fronting the public road, which, for four miles, is like one continued suburban village all the way from New York. The farm cost, two [410] years ago, without a house or well, 3,500 dollars, and the house and well have since cost 1,500 dollars. Mr. Wheeler has hired this situation for one year only, at the rent of 300 dollars, ten dollars an acre, all poor and long-exhausted land, insomuch that nothing can be raised without manure, which is bought at one dollar per load, and hauled three miles.

Land, thus situated, is expected to be devoted to raising garden-stuff, or to be occupied only as a suburban retreat. The mere farmer can scarcely live out of it, even if it is his own, unless he cultivates vegetables, and carries his milk to New York market, in small quantities, daily. Those who have lived here eighteen or twenty years, on their own estates, have only just lived, saved nothing, and been always their own servants. Mr. Wheeler has three servants, one black man, and a white man and woman. The white man has 100 dollars a-year; the black man ten dollars a month; and the woman five dollars and board, working from sun-rise to dark.

2nd.—After dinner, Mr. Wheeler ordered out of the plough into the carriage, his pair of handsome greys, when, with the ladies, we drove to the beautiful neighbouring villages of New-town, Flushing, and Jamaica, at the latter of which is the residence of Rufus King, Esq. a house by no means equal to those of the village squires of England, yet very inviting. Perhaps no where, [411] except in the vicinity of London and Bath, can a more attractive ride of twenty miles be found; the whole distance of road, from the city, seeming one continued village of new and handsome farm-houses, with either a pleasure-garden, or green pasture, or orchard, or all of them, in front of almost every house, any of which may be bought, boards being up, For sale, this farm. But the land, in every direction, is poor, except where superior and expensive management exists. Every thing is sold from the land, which might make manure and enrich it. The leaves of the forest trees now begin to appear. The spring is late, yet the orchards are in full bloom. The frost was severe last night.

Though he has three servants, Mr. Wheeler cleans his own boots. They would not absolutely refuse, but would do it reluctantly, and feel disgraced by the act; yet two of them are good servants. A black servant lately broke into the cellar and dairy of Mr. Wheeler, and stole all the bread and meat he could find; he is now in gaol. About two years ago, in great rage with his sister, he caught hold of her head, and endeavoured, with an axe, to chop it off; but not being able to get it into a fit place, he chopped off two of her fingers, and nailed them on the door-post!

4th.—I made, on horseback, the tour of York island, about ten miles in length and two in breadth. On one side is the noble Hudson, or great North River, and on the other, the East River [412] and Hell-gate, and the beautiful villages of Manhattan, Haarlem, and Greenwich. All the road from the city, to the extremity of, and beyond the isle, is adorned, on both sides, with the country-seats and pleasure-grounds of rich citizens, who, like those of London, every morning and evening drive to and fro in great numbers. Perhaps no city in the world is so happily situated as that of New York, standing on this island, with the sea to the south, and these majestic rivers, from one to two miles wide, on the north and east, the banks of which are very high, and for twelve miles crowned with mansions. The houses on the roads, thus leading through the isle to the city, have each from five to ten acres of green pasture, park, or pleasure-gardens, which renders them more rural, though less splendid than those on the roads leading to London. I saw from fifty to 100 convicts, heavily ironed, forming a new road for the state; receiving no pay nor shirts, but only food.

I visited the supreme court, and inquired for Messrs. Emmett and Sampson, but saw not these celebrated refugees.[150]

Mr. Wheeler agreed to purchase a quantity of seed corn from a neighbour, which was to be picked, but much of it came in rotten. Mr. W. returned the rotten part, and begged other corn to be sent in its place. "No, send it all back! that is not the way we deal here;" in great rage, [413] said the farmer, "you may do so in your country, but not here."

5th.—Bade farewell to Long Island, and my much esteemed friends, the Wheelers, who pressingly invited me to stay longer. I renewed my invitation to them to come and make Whitehall their home, when, if ever, they came to England.

I quitted New York, for Philadelphia, at ten this morning. Left a history of Somersham for Mr. F. Morse of Newhaven.

Visited one of the packet-ships, the James Monroe, the most complete I ever saw; every birth is a state room. For forty guineas, it transports passengers to Liverpool in high style. All are fed luxuriously.

6th.—At six this morning, I left Borden town, on the Delaware, where are the ruins of Joseph Bonaparte's house, about to be rebuilt. Sixty men are employed already. The estate, consisting of 300 acres, all poor land, is now laying out into pleasure-grounds, and park, enclosed with a fine fence; it cost five dollars an acre. Joseph came hither, it is said, with ten millions of dollars from the Spanish treasury.

I reached the City of Philadelphia at ten this morning, just twenty-eight days after I left it, since which time I have travelled about 2,000 miles, and rested eleven days.

Sunday, 7th.—I was present when Dr Storton, [414] administered the rites of baptism to a large, respectable auditory. He is rather pompous in his expressions, and theatrical in his action and manner, but certainly an accomplished man. He has said that there is no preaching talent in America but what is imported; but this is not strictly true.

11th. I wrote the following epistle to Mr. Day, of St. Ives in England, by the ship Electra, bound for London.

May 11, 1820.

Dear Sir,

At this distance of time and place, the recollection of you is replete with all that is good and pleasant to me; while the esteem and regard always professed and felt for you demand, at least, one epistle, as a thing not to be withheld. I should have had great pleasure in your correspondence, but it is now too late, as my duties here are nearly at an end, and by the time this reaches you, I hope, under the guidance of gracious Providence, that the compass, in unison with my heart, will be pointing me towards my own home and country.

The inducements to emigrate, and the facilities of living here, are neither so great nor so many as I wished and expected to find them. The majority of those who come are without capital and above useful labour. Of this kind seem our friends —— and ——, and others known to you, whose [415] prospects are, I assure you, very shadowy. I speak impartially. Even capital, I believe, can any where be better employed than here. And as to labourers, there are more than can be paid. By the late report of this city, it appeared that 11,000 within these walls were in a state of unemployed pauperism; while in one prison only, are 600 thieves and incendiaries, the natural fruits of increasing poverty.

Land, generally, is not property in this country, because there is infinitely more than enough; the surplus, therefore, is worth nothing. What is already in cultivation by hired hands lessens, rather than augments capital. Even potatoes, you know, cannot be produced from one without the agency of the other. The markets are all glutted, and without foreign demand, a surplus produce is not desirable, because unsaleable and perishable.

All travel is restless labour, and "vanity and vexation of spirit." Its idea was once so supremely fascinating to my ambition, that I thought I never could have enough of it, and therefore wished myself doomed to perpetual travel. I have my wish, or something like it, and it disappoints me. During the last two years I have indeed found "no continuing city;" it is well if I seek and find one to come. I fly from city to city, from town to town, state to state, climate to climate, with the velocity of an eagle. I have frigid and tropical latitudes, polar cold and equinoxial heat, wintry desolation, [416] and the summery foliage of oranges and myrtles, all in the short space of one week, or less. For although this beautiful city of William Penn lies in an Egyptian latitude, winter has not long been over; whereas, it never enters the city of Charleston, which I have just quitted, where

"Blossoms and fruits and flowers together rise,
And all the year in rich confusion lies."

The male youth generally of this, and other cities, are remarkably polished, sprightly and prepossessing in their exterior; being of tall and slender figures, and looking free and easy, without any thing like levity, for each puts on all the airs, manners, actions, and opinions of men, with his first pair of breeches, and expects to be treated as a man. But ringlets decorate the faces of both sexes, and in other respects all are dandies, male and female! The young ladies generally are not so handsome as the males; though beauty is not rare amongst them. A woman's duties and province are, I think, yet undiscovered. She is here, that is, in all sections south of the Delaware, a little divinity, to whom all must bend, give place, and pay idle homage; her tyranny is great, her influence unbounded. Her lover, or husband, is outwardly her slave; but as a wife, mother, mistress, she must yield to my unequalled countrywomen. Youth here, is of very short duration; all soon look old; and "all the days of the years of this vain life," soon come to an end. Religion and duty seem but little understood, [417] and less regarded, except it be to ascertain how little of either may suffice. Paley's Moral Philosophy has been, perhaps, the text book of the educated, who are very numerous; yet but few live and die practical philosophers. Death is little dreaded, and often, as in duelling, voluntarily embraced. Two selfish gods, Pleasure and Gain, enslave the Americans. The scum of all the earth is drifted here.

As this is sent off about a month after my other, and will be my last letter from this country, I wish you to inform my good father, if living, and Mr. Ingle, of my present refuge and intended return, and assure them of my best regards. My beloved child, who, by-the-bye, would become in part your ward if I returned no more, is very precious in my sight; if you knew her, I should beg you to pronounce a father's blessing on her; but it comes to her on every western breeze. When I can, I will teach her to esteem you, and perpetuate, what is of little value, the disinterested and most sincere friendship of,

Dear Sir,
Your very obedient servant,
W. Faux.

11th.—Mistrust and suspicion are general in Philadelphia. The cause is a general disregard or violation of duty. Two respectable quakers would not suffer Mr. —— to owe them eight [418] dollars for a day or two, though guaranteed by a second person, who, for any thing they knew, might be respectable; so they took out two pieces of muslin to reduce the bill down to the funds in hand. "Notwithstanding this guarantee," said the quaker, "I will, and must have the thing squared." The representative of my friend then paid the complete balance. I was present at this transaction, and feeling both pained and amused, began to speculate upon it, and to consider what could have generated this general suspicion and distrust. It is the common effect of some cause. What cause? A general violation or neglect of some prominent duties, not directly guarded by the laws, but the observance of which is indispensable to the good of mankind every where. Culpability of this kind, in not doing to others as we would be done by, does more injury to the world than all the thieves and incendiaries put together; because the consequence in one case is particular, in the other illimitable. If I act justly towards my neighbour, I confer both temporal and moral good on him and on myself. But it stops not here: he learns thereby its value, and acts in like manner towards others. On the other hand, if I violate my duty to him, he retaliates not only on me, but on others indiscriminately. He thinks he has been honest and unsuspicious long enough, and bids adieu to rectitude perhaps for ever.

Last month at Dover, Delaware, Squire Loper [419] received sentence of the court for passing forged notes, knowing them to be so. He had been in the commission of the peace for 20 years, and received the forged notes from a gang convicted before him of forgery. The notes had remained in his hands ever since. A month ago, he desired a gentleman, a neighbour of his going to Philadelphia, to buy him some iron, and meeting the gentleman privately, gave him fifty dollars, saying, "Take notice it is a fifty dollar note," and gave it him carefully wrapped in paper. When the bearer offered it for the iron, it was discovered to be one of the forged notes, well known to have been offered by the gang before. The gentleman had some difficulty in keeping out of the Penitentiary. On proving himself not to be a party concerned, and promising to bring the Squire forward, he was released. The Squire admitted the note to be forged, and said, he gave it to his friend only in joke. On being arrested, he was treated with great liberality, but he acted haughtily and foolishly. On his trial he would not employ counsel nor set up any defence; but in a cool, sneering manner said, that the note was given in joke, and the court might do as they would. He was sentenced to six months' solitary confinement, thirty-nine lashes, and never after to pass out of his own house in Dover without the letter F, a foot long in scarlet, on his back, on pain of another six months' confinement and thirty-nine stripes. But so great was the [420] public pity for him, in court and out, both with judge and jury, that the prison door was left open for him in hope that he would escape and quit the neighbourhood for ever. He did escape into the town only, and came back to prison voluntarily, where no such chance is again to be afforded him.

At night, I went to the black church, where the black minister shewed much uncultivated talent. After sermon they began singing merrily, and continued, without stopping, one hour, till they became exhausted and breathless. "Oh! come to Zion, come!" "Hallelujah, &c." And then, "O won't you have my lovely bleeding Jasus," a thousand times repeated in full thundering chorus to the tune of "Fol de rol." While all the time they were clapping hands, shouting, and jumping, and exclaiming, "Ah Lord! Good Lord! Give me Jasus! Amen." At half-past ten this meeting broke up. For an hour it seemed like Bedlam let loose. At the close, one female said, striking the breasts of two male friends, "We had a happy time of it."

16th.—Last week, in the state of Delaware, the High Sheriff had to perform the duty of Jack Ketch, and hang his own nephew, for the murder of his own mother, the Sheriff's sister. The youth killed her by striking her with a club on the temple. In the same neighbourhood and the same week another youth was sent to gaol for poisoning his uncle, a rich old gentleman, who being childless, had [421] taken this nephew into the house and made him heir to all; but the youth being impatient, went to a druggist for arsenic, which he said was to kill the rats, that every night kept his uncle from sleeping. He mixed a portion of it in a glass of apple-toddy and gave it to his uncle, but in so large a portion that it began to operate immediately, on which the old man said, "You have given me something to do me harm." The youth denied it, but the old man grew rapidly sick, and feeling conscious that he was poisoned and should die before the distant doctor could arrive, got out the will in favor of the ungrateful youth, and having burnt it, died soon after.

A short time ago, the friends of a murderer, under sentence of death in Pennsylvania, conspired together to procure a pardon from the governor, by threats and intimidation. Their plan was to get the governor into a room to themselves, and offer him his own life for the pardon of Lieut. Smith, the convict, who had cohabited with Mrs. Carson, and taken possession of her house and property, during the absence of her husband, Captain Carson. When the latter returned and demanded his wife and property, he was shot dead in his own house by Smith. The governor had intelligence of the plot, and seized the conspirators before they could carry their design into effect.

Sunday, 21st.—Quitted Philadelphia on board the steam-boat. A gentleman, Lieut. Skinner, of [422] the United States' navy, from the Franklin, just arrived from Gibraltar, states, that the sailors, on settling accounts, will go on shore and spend the balance, several hundred dollars, in two or three days, lavishing from 100 to 200 dollars a-day, until all is gone, when they re-enter. So indifferent are they to the use and value of money, that they give it away, and suffer any person to plunder them with impunity. The cause, says he, of this indifference and insane extravagance, is to be found in the strictness and severity of the discipline on board, where money is of no use to them.

Duelling.—So frequent were these meetings between the officers of the United States' navy and the British garrison, that the governor felt compelled to interfere, in order to save life, as one or two duels occurred daily, originating in the most foolish disputes.

The parties met always on neutral ground. For any expression uttered by one officer of the 64th regiment, a general challenge was sent by the officers of the United States' navy to the regiment; wishing to include all, from the colonel down to the lowest in rank.

Two young Americans, of New York, at Gibraltar, met in consequence of a trifling dispute. The offending party fired three times without hitting, while his opponent fired every time into the air, begging the other to apologize, saying, "If I take aim I shall kill you, but I can stand all your [423] fires." This concession was, however, obstinately refused; on which the seconds stepped forward, and said to the party who had acted so generously, "Sir, you must fire in your own defence!" Both again charged, and Sands, the aggressor, fell dead. The survivor was arrested, but acquitted with honour; being told by his commander, that if he had not acted thus, he would not have received him again into the service. The young reprobate who fell, was a classical scholar, of fine person and great mental accomplishments, but ripe for perdition.

22nd.—I reached Washington city, now emptied of the wise men, and which, after quitting Philadelphia, seems mean, indeed, both morally and physically. All the bogs and swamps, in and round the city, are now full of melody, from the big, bellowing bull frog, down to the little singing mosquito, while rotting carcases and other nuisances perfume the warm southern breezes.

A lady, in a letter to Mr. Thomas Coote, from New Orleans, states that eighteen American pirates under sentence of death, in the jail of that city, have many friends, much intent upon effecting a rescue, by forcing the prison, which is strongly guarded by the military. Every night almost, for this purpose, mobs collect around it and set fire to distant parts of the city, in order to divert the attention of the guards from the prison. Great alarm exists on the subject, and it is feared, [424] that on the day of execution, much blood will be spilt.

One hundred sail of slave-ships, full of slaves, appeared in sight, one day, during this spring, off the coast of Africa. Several of them were fast sailing vessels, built, owned, and manned by the free citizens of free America. Some were chased and taken by the British and American navy. This trade is now considered to be more extensive than ever.

30th.—Visited Mr. Dunn, who states that the small red squirrel, of this state, is seen to seize and castrate, in a moment, the large grey squirrel, which greatly fears and always flies at the sight of the former.

Are those English people who are now in America happier than they were in England? I will take upon me to pronounce, that in the aggregate, they are not. Happiness and misery are not mere localities, for as God is the father of all, the earth is his and the fulness thereof; his frowns or smiles are not bounded by geographical lines and latitudes; the whole human family are under his wise economy. God's management is always right. He can blast prosperity and bless disappointment, so as to keep it from disappointing; thus bringing good out of evil, light out of darkness, blessings out of curses, and curses out of blessings. Blessings unblessed are curses in disguise, and adversity blessed is a blessing. We need his blessing [425] upon every thing, even on his blessings. I am sometimes disposed to think that the blessings of American liberty are unblessed.

Mr. Elliott deems universal suffrage, as it exists in America, an universal evil, because the worst and meanest of mankind, who are the most numerous every where, are enabled to exert an overwhelming influence over the good and the honourable. Every man here is a segment of the government. Mean and evil men seek to represent their like. A good man cannot descend to the mean mode of popularity; he cannot bribe with whiskey; he cannot promise what is evil to perform; and therefore but few good men are in the government. Antipathy to Englishmen, and whatever they suggest, is general and nearly national.

For the following very interesting, original, and last letter of a distinguished, yet unfortunate artist, I am indebted to an old philosophical friend, whose well-judged opinions of and extensive acquaintance with men and things, make his sentiments precious and almost oracular. Let him here receive my thanks for the many pleasant hours which I spent in his company, and for the rich materials of thinking gathered from him.

Washington, September 5th, 1820.

Dear Sir,

I embrace the opportunity of writing to you by the favour of Mrs. Orris. I enclose a letter received [426] from the celebrated Francis Guy, landscape painter, who lately died at New York. He was at the head of his profession in this country, and perhaps in the world. He was born near Keswick, in Cumberland, England. I knew him well, and esteemed him highly, as well for his virtues as his talents. In this letter, (which I believe was the last he wrote, it being dated only a few days before his death) you will know the opinion of many artists, who have left their country to seek for food and fame in this, and see how they are rewarded for the exercise of their talents in this great republic of North America. He (Guy) told me that he had not received 50 cents per day for his labours! You are welcome to any use of this letter.

Buildings seem to rise very fast, notwithstanding the badness of the times, as they are termed.

Please to favour me with a letter as soon as convenient. I am in daily expectation of the nuts, &c. The ground has been ploughed some weeks for their reception. I am in good health, but my mother, my wife, my brother, his wife, and oldest child are all very sick.

Please accept my best wishes for your welfare. The club also wish to be remembered to you.

Your Old Friend.

To Mr. Faux.

[427] Brooklyn, Long Island,
June 29th, 1820.

My Dear Friend,

I received yours, with its inclosures, in due time, and it would be a difficult thing for me to describe the pleasure I feel at seeing such a proof of your continued friendship. There is, indeed, a something in a real upright and downright honest John Bull, that cannot be found in the sly, say-nothing, smiling, deep speculating, money-hunting Jonathans of this all-men-are-born-equally-free-and-independent, negro-driving, cow-skin republic.

It is surely wrong to be content with nothing, because not blessed with all. We see bad effects, we hate them, and we grumble, but ten to one it is because we are unacquainted with the cause from whence they spring; but there is one self-evident, hell-born cause of endless ills in this land, which, for want of a better name, we will call avarice. From Maine to Georgia, on all occasions, the general question is, How much shall I get by it? What will it fetch me? Pray what benefit will that be to me? &c. &c. From this, man-stealing, mail robberies, piracy, murders, thefts, swindling, forgeries, lying, cheating, slavery, whips, gags, chains, and all the black catalogue of monstrous ills proceed. Indeed, that angel who is described by Milton as being more fond of admiring Heaven's golden pavement, than any thing glorious aloft, is the ruling god of this nation; and in imitation [428] of him, they are for ever chasing dollars, walking half bent under the accursed dominion of selfish views. But death, the mighty hunter, will catch them all, and then, in company with their god Belial, they will enjoy the name, title, and privilege of fools. There is a national church liturgy in England, and if ever there should be one adopted here, the following I think ought to form a part of it.

Money, money, is all our cry,
Money, the total sum!
Give us money or else we die;
O let thy money come!

But I am rambling from the Capitol. Your son has drawn it very well, but I wish he had drawn it on a larger scale, that the order of columns and windows might have been more distinct. However, it is the wrong side of the building; it is the east front and north end that I must paint, looking down towards George-town, and the place I sketched the view from was just above your house; therefore I must paint the east front and north end. This, like a fool, I forgot to inform you of; but if both fronts are to be alike, then what you have sent will do; if not, then I will thank both you and him to send me another drawing, at least so far as the centre of the east front differs from that of the west.

Since I wrote the above, Mr. King, the painter, has been in this place, and informs us that both [429] fronts of the capitol will be the same; therefore, if that be so, what you have sent will answer; and when I come to your place in the fall, I will reward your son for his drawing, or if he choose to make a charge, I will send the money by the post, whatever it may be.

Give my dutiful respects to Dr. Thornton, and tell him that I wish he could see the picture of Washington city when it is finished—I think it will be a grand sight. I am now painting a large view of Chichester, in England, for Governor Clinton; in which his likeness, with those of Judge Miller and Doctor Mitchel, are to be painted on the fore-ground. I wish the doctor could see this paradise scenery also. You talk of coming to York; I wonder if ever I shall have the pleasure of seeing you here. In your last, you ask if I have any communications to send. Perhaps I may have some to send concerning myself, for be assured that if we do not now condescend to go out of our old beaten track, we must fall through thick and thin. When that should be, it would be no sin to do one of the worst things in the world, that is, turn one's own trumpeter.

God prosper you in all your good ways, keep you from all bad ones, and may you live contented, and die happy!

Francis Guy.

Thus you see I have written a letter, and on one [430] account or another delayed sending it until there is need to write another, to make an apology for the neglect. Indeed, my good wife has been very unwell, and my concern for her made me forget every thing else. This I know you will say is a good and weighty excuse.

F. G.

June 10th.—News of firing the City of New Orleans, in order to effect a rescue of the pirates, reached this city this day. We hear, also, of the Choctaw Indians fighting, 150 opposed to 150, to avenge the death of an old woman, killed for a witch. They fought until both sides, with the exception of ten or twelve, were all killed.[151]

A man was taken and nearly killed, last week, disguised as the devil, in the act of extorting 150 dollars from a farmer. He was dressed, and spit fire and brimstone, like a proper devil. He is now in prison. A Yankee traveller, lodging for the night, struck this felonious devil to the ground with a club, at the second visit to receive dollars, instead of paper, as at first offered by the farmer for the ransom of his body and soul.

12th.—I met again Mr. Perry from Carlisle, Pennsylvania. He states that the land and farms there are the best in America; the average of wheat being about eighteen bushels an acre. The best land is to be bought occasionally at fifty dollars an acre, with improvements which have cost all the money; so that the land is given. [431] Here, he says, an English farmer may, as a farmer, find much animal comfort, but no good society; the mass of the farmers and people being vile, dishonest, and without any good principles whatever. All try to rob and wrong you, and each other, and will do it if you associate, or deal in any way with them; and they will do it without any shame, being shameless. An honest man, though rich, must be soon ruined, if he puts confidence in them. "All are tarred with the same brush." The farmers all work. One, worth ten or twelve thousand dollars, brought in to Mr. Perry a waggon load of hay, which he warranted was a ton, though it was only sixteen cwt. Out of a farm of good land, consisting of 500 acres, a farmer does not find above 300 dollars a-year for the purchase of such necessaries as the family need from the store. No money is, therefore, to be made by farming, and the poor live in want all winter, at which time their labour is to be had for victuals only, and now for 25 cents a-day. From sober calculation, he finds that four per cent. is the most that can be obtained from capital employed in agriculture, though six per cent, is the legal interest. He would, a thousand times, rather give five or six guineas an acre rent, for land at Feversham in Kent, than have it here rent-free; for, after paying this heavy rent and taxes and labour, he should have a good living profit in England, where the climate is good, but here, one year [432] wears you out more that seven in England. Grasshoppers too, here, are a plague, destroying every thing, in the pestilential months of August and September. There is no money; all is done by barter.

He would recommend me and others to stick by England while we can live in it, for he is sure, that if people in England would attend to their duties, and condescend to the meannesses and drudgeries every where practised here, they must live, and live better at home than ever they can here. And besides, though things are bad, there is a hope of better times. Here, there is no hope; things will be worse; for, with such an unprincipled, vile race of people, how is it possible that liberty and happiness can be secure? They know nothing of the nature of liberty, nor want to know. Law, justice, equity, liberty, are things unknown amongst them. In England, there is a good sound core, and seed that must always vegetate; here, all is rottenness. Mr. Perry believes, that grazing cattle in Pennsylvania, would pay much better than cultivating.

18th.—I re-visited Dr. Dawes's farm, which being in a state of complete exhaustion, is unable to produce again even the seed of any thing sown; the rye not affording what is commonly scattered for gleaners in England, while the peas, tares, and lentils rise not a foot high. This land can only be restored to fruitfulness by rest, clover, plaster, [433] and manure, and plenty of cattle and sheep to depasture and manure it.

19th.—This being a beautiful morning, the Doctor ordered out his curricle, and we drove to the seat and plantation of the Right Honourable T. Law, accompanied by Mr. Joel Simpson. I having been introduced to Mr. Law, was appointed spokesman, and stood rapping at the hall of entrance ten minutes before I was heard. At last came a naked, dirty-legged, bare-footed little girl, to say that Mr. Law was not at home, nor likely to be before night. Soon after, came her father, the overseer, who "regretted that Mr. Law was absent at an agricultural dinner, as he was happy to see all callers." He, at my request, shewed us the garden, the farm, and the stock. The farm, about 250 acres, is beautifully situated on high hills, two miles from the Potowmac, but so stony and unfruitful, that its cultivation is a serious expense, rather than a benefit, it being unable to maintain itself. The garden and orchard, a few acres, seem equally poor; small quantities of its produce are, however, sent from it occasionally to market. At the bottom of it is a spa, or mineral spring, in which the proprietor bathes. The horses are all poor and fleshless, but the cattle and cows, about twelve in number, fat. A cow and a bull of the Yorkshire breed, from England, dislike (says the man) this climate. [434] The cow gives but little milk, and pines for the sweet, green pastures of her dear native land.

The English labourers, sent over to this farm, are all gone, being drunken and worthless, and withal, so uncivil and conceited, that Mr. Law, who likes men to talk freely with him, could scarcely get a civil answer from any of them. We were at last conducted into the house, and introduced to a pint of whiskey. We saw no house-servants, but heard one, a female slave recently bought, the only slave Mr. Law owns. He lives in great simplicity. The house is better than the best American farm-houses; still, it is not a mansion, but rather something between both. In the centre and front, is a large oblong room, the largest in the house, and resembling a hall of entrance, at each end of which is a smaller room for the winter, and on the other side, being a double house, are three small summer rooms, and chambers over the whole. The road through the farm up to the house is serpentine, and planted with dying shrubs. It is rough, stony, and difficult of ascent, and the entrance-gate (where might stand a porter's lodge) is meaner than a hog-pen-gate. In this retreat dined the President and 200 gentlemen last week. The society admitted here is select, and the principal attraction to it is Mr. Law, who is kind, agreeable, and benevolent to all. In his personal appearance, he is small, lean, [435] withered, and rustic. His nose, however, is noble, like Lord Ellenborough's, but his mind is perhaps nobler than that of any of the family, although he lives in greater simplicity than a country squire of England.

21st.—An old Scotsman, a perfect stranger, this morning conscientiously brought back cloth to Mr. ——'s store, to be re-measured, the same containing, he found, several yards more than he had paid for, or expected to find. A mistake had occurred in measuring. An American lady of respectability, also of this city, was standing by, and, in the greatest astonishment, exclaimed: "What! bring it back because there is too much measure? Well, who ever heard the like? I would not have done so, I'll warrant ye." "O, my dear madam," said he, "I could not, would not, have it without paying for it; it is not mine." The proprietor of the store observed, very significantly, looking her ladyship in the face, "Madam, I know of only one rule, and that is, to do unto others as you would that they should do unto you." She blushed, and said no more. This shameless, unprincipled, selfishness is very universal. It is customary, with this people, never to point out defects in goods, or errors in accounts, when such defects and errors exist in their favour. The qualities, honesty and dishonesty, as exemplified in these two characters, seemed as if they were natural.

[436] 23rd.—The mayor of this city, Samuel N. Smallwood, Esq. now mayor for the second time, came here, twenty years ago, a pennyless mechanic, but being industrious, grew with the growth, and strengthened with the strength, of this infant metropolis. His mother was a yellow woman, and his origin is still distinguishable in his curled hair, which he keeps close shorn. This, further south, would have been a sin never to be forgiven. He is a man of talent, and lives much respected.

This day I passed a pleasant farm on the eastern branch of the Potowmac, half of it bottom land, and running a mile and a half along the shore, with a good house and offices, orchards, and large gardens. The hills are poor, and covered with woods, amongst which cattle and pigs graze, and breed, and fatten. It contains 667 acres, to be bought at sixty dollars an acre, works twenty, and might work thirty negroes, worth 9,000 dollars. It requires an additional capital of 6,000 or 7,000 dollars, for cultivating. Although much of this pleasant plantation is in wood, yet it is said to produce annually,

Thus is a capital of 55,000 dollars employed, netting twelve per cent., but the authority relied upon, in thus stating the case, is not the best.

The Patriot pilot-boat, last war, sailed from New York to Charleston city, for the Governor of South Carolina's Lady, Mrs. Allstone, Mr. Burr's daughter,[152] then at Charleston, who, with Mr. Green, her brother-in-law, and servant, plate and specie, sailed from Charleston. They were heard of no more, until last month, when one of the pirates, under sentence of death at New Orleans, confessed that he and others, of the crew of the Patriot, rose upon the captain and the passengers, confined them below, scuttled the vessel, and abandoned her, taking to the boat, in which, with all the money and plate they could find, they [438] landed on the coast of North Carolina, while the vessel, and all it contained, sunk to rise no more.

30th.—I re-visited the seat of Mr. Law, in company with Mr. Elliott, and the Rev. J. Wright. Mr. Law was dining out, three miles from home. I saw him not, but kept possession of the house three hours.

Mr. Law told a friend of mine that he brought 100,000 guineas in gold, but could not now raise, by any means, at a short notice, 1,000l. City lots and land allured him almost to ruin. Land seems a substance, but is yet only a shadow in many neighbourhoods.

A common hot day at Washington.—The wind southerly, like the breath of an oven; the thermometer vacillating between 90 and 100; the sky blue and cloudless; the sun shedding a blazing light; the face of the land, and every thing upon it, save trees, withered, dusty, baked, and continually heated, insomuch that water would almost hiss on it; the atmosphere swarming with noxious insects, flies, bugs, mosquitoes, and grasshoppers, and withal so drying, that all animal and vegetable life is exposed to a continual process of exhaustion. The breezes, if any, are perfumed by nuisances of all sorts, emptied into the streets, rotting carcases, and the exhalations of dismal swamps, made vocal and alive with toads, lizards, and bellowing bull-frogs. Few people are stirring, except negroes; all faces, save those [439] of blacks, pale, languid, and lengthened with lassitude, expressive of any thing but ease and happiness. Now and then an emigrant or two fall dead at the cold spring, or fountain; others are lying on the floor, flat on their backs; all, whether idle or employed, are comfortless, being in an everlasting steam-bath, and feeling offensive to themselves and others. At table, pleased with nothing, because both vegetable and animal food is generally withered, toughened, and tainted; the beverage, tea or coffee, contains dead flies; the beds and bed-rooms, at night, present a smothering unaltering warmth, the walls being thoroughly heated, and being withinside like the outside of an oven in continual use. Hard is the lot of him who bears the heat and burthen of this day, and pitiable the fate of the poor emigrant sighing in vain for comforts, cool breezes, wholesome diet, and the old friends of his native land. At midnight, the lightning-bugs and bull-frogs become luminous and melodious. The flies seem an Egyptian plague, and get mortised into the oily butter, which holds them like birdlime.

Having requested some communication on the subject of farming, and other matters, in Pennsylvania, from a friend, possessing great experience, I was favoured with the following heads, which contain much information in a condensed form.

[440] 1st. Pennsylvania.—The land is of the first quality, and the best farming in the United States is found here. The climate is of a medium temperature, but the extremes meet as in the other states.

2nd. Crops.—The average produce is sixteen bushels, per acre, of wheat; other grain in proportion; but the crops are very subject to the Hessian fly and mildew.

3rd. Fruit.—As in the other states, it is inferior to that of Europe, and no dependence is to be placed on crops.

4th. Garden.—One acre of land in England, produces more vegetables than five acres in the United States, taking the year throughout. N.B. This matter has been most grossly misrepresented.

5th. Grazing Land.—During five months in the year, there is no pasture for cattle.

6th. Price of Land.—Varies from 50 to 100 dollars with improvements, that is, with a good house and barn.

7th. Timber.—Sufficient exists at present; but should the population increase rapidly, it will become a scarce article.

8th. Game.—Scarce; which is generally the case through the States. No country in the world is worse supplied with game, and in a few years the game will be entirely annihilated, owing to the extreme inclemency of the winters, and there being no cover for them in the woods.

[441] 9th. Fish.—Taking the States through, the supply of this article is trifling.

10th. Farmers.—The generality of this class are Germans of the lowest grade; industrious, but nothing further, and forming no society for an English yeoman. The rest of the population is composed of descendants of the old settlers and of low people of Irish origin.

11th. Residence.—An emigrant requires at the least twelve months. N.B. The United States teem with jobbing lawyers, land speculators, and swindlers.

12th. Grazing and stall-feeding cattle for market.—This line might be followed to advantage with a capital of 4,000 dollars, and with what is of more consequence, the knowledge of dealing or trafficking, for without such knowledge the noble would soon be reduced to nine-pence. A twelve months' residence is, therefore, indispensably necessary, for without being fully initiated in the diabolical arts of lying out, swearing out, swindling out, and thieving out, ruin is inevitable.

13th. Society.—There is none for an Englishman of the old school, who would scorn to tell a lie, or see his fellow man in want.

14th. Happiness.—Must be found in your own family; the fruits of your farm will supply every want, and whilst the government of the United States continues as at present, you will be secured in that happiness.

[442] 15th.—One matter I had almost forgot, which I must not omit to mention, as you most likely will be asked questions on the subject by many of that most useful and invaluable class, English husbandmen.

1st. Wages.—The highest wages given at this time for harvest are, 2s. 3d. per day, English money, and found in provision and bad whiskey.

2nd. Working hours.—From sunrise to sunset, full sixteen hours.

3d. How long does the harvest last?—About three weeks.

4th. Is it warm in harvest time?—Excessively so. The thermometer ranges from 86 to 120. It is impossible to have a just idea of it without actual experience. And, what is of more consequence, an English husbandman would be more debilitated in three years in the United States, than in sixteen years in England.

5th. How long in the year can labour be procured?—About six months.

6th. Are wages paid regularly?—Very rarely. Mostly defrauded.

7th. Then who are the persons that can do?—A man with a family of hard-working children, possessing 300l. sterling, and who should reside twelve months in the States before he purchases land. And it is greatly to be feared that both the emigrant and his family must lay in all the low cunning, and [l]earn to defraud and cheat, as practised [443] here, and entirely forget old English principles and society, or else ruin and misery will be his portion.

8th. Mechanics.—Any part of the world before the United States, for, whatever they may earn, they will be sure to be defrauded out of half.

9th. Wages.—Not so much as in England, taking the year through.

July 6th.—Visited the house of the President, a good, substantial, pleasant abode, but neither so elegant, superb, nor costly as the seats of our nobility. I saw nothing about it remarkable; no pictures, save Washington's; no curiosities, no painted ceilings. The walls are covered with French paper, and the rooms are furnished with French furniture. Its front looks over the Potowmac and Alexandria, down to Mount Vernon, through a vast extent of Southern Virginian scenery. A favourite English butler shewed us all, and regaled us with good biscuit, brandy, and sherry.

7th.—This morning the Hon. Thomas Law, accompanied by Mr. Elliott, made me a call in return for mine. He very politely regretted his absence when I called, and invited me to come and spend a day or two with him at his farm, for the purpose of concluding the conversation now commenced in the following words.

Mr. Law.—"You, Mr. F., saw my farm and garden. They are poor, but I will improve the gravelly hills by carting earth on to them from the [444] valleys. The English labourers sent to me by Mr. Curwen, I have dismissed. They could do nothing but plough; they were stupid, conceited, uncivil, and latterly drunken; whiskey, and the company they met, seduced them. When I began farming I knew not wheat from rye, or rye from barley; but I well know what are the benefits of farming." "You, Sir, pursue it only for your pleasure?" "No, Sir, I want profit." "In the present distressed state of agriculture little profit is to be had." "Truly so; but a paper circulation is wanted. Mr. Crawford fully agreed with me on this point, but disingenuously seceded from it in his report, on which account I have addressed several pointed letters to him, which I will send you as well as my address to the agricultural society of Prince George's county."

"On my return home shall I advise and recommend my countrymen to emigrate here?" "Why, Sir, I cannot answer that question. I have never recommended emigration, nor caused any to quit their country; every thing is strange and unsuitable to English farmers and labourers; he can cultivate with success only by slaves." "Have you, Mr. Law, no regrets at having spent so much of your time in this country?" "No, Sir, none whatever." "What, Sir, none at the loss of that society which you must have had in common with your family in England?" Here Mr. Law hesitated a little as if at a loss for an answer. "Why, [445] Sir, I once with Lord Cornwallis governed India. I returned and saw my acquaintance sliding into commerce, brewers, manufacturers, and merchants, to be cheated; such a course had no attractions for me, and I was opposed to the French war and other government measures. I therefore determined on visiting and ultimately on living in this country, where I have spent my time much to my satisfaction, never being at a loss for amusement. I write and read, and talk and visit, on the most familiar and friendly terms with my neighbours, with whom I frequently stay all night; and whenever I please, I can without ceremony go and talk frequently and freely with the President, Mr. Crawford, Calhoun, and all the heads of the government, and therefore I have the best society the land affords." "But, Sir, there are the honours and emoluments of England which must have been yours." "My wants were then, and have always been, very few. I believe I have always been happier than any of my brothers. As I never knew how to say 'My lord' to any man, I did not seek or want honours or emoluments. I saw my family and friends dependant on the funds which are likely some day to beggar them and many others; a situation from which I fled." "What, Mr. Law, is likely to remedy the diseases of England?" "Sir! England is over-peopled. It is not wholly the fault of the government. A famine will be the remedy." "Could not the surplus population [446] be transported to the colonies?" "No, Sir. A famine is the only remedy." "But, Sir, is not a famine calculated to plunge the country into a dreadful political convulsion and revolution?" "It is, Sir, but the government is not blameable."

"Morally considered, or with respect to morals, do you not think the population of this country inferior to that of England?" "The people in the mass are here more intelligent. You now see them at the worst time. You see them generally acting unworthily and meanly, but their poverty and not their will consents. As to slaves, they steal." "And they have a right to steal," said a third person. I answered, "They, to be sure, have been robbed on a broad scale." "Why, Sir, the friends of slavery insist on it that slavery is essential to the existence of liberty. To what conclusions will they not come?"

"Is there, Mr. Law, no aristocratical feeling in this country?" "Yes, Sir, amongst the black population." "You mean, Sir, amongst the masters of blacks?" "Yes, Sir. You, Sir, have visited Mr. Birkbeck?" "I have." "Is he not a very pleasant, intelligent man?" "He is highly so." "What is he doing?" "Fast spending dollars." "Had he raised any produce?" "None." "Why?" "He had been, he said, occupied in settling his neighbours, who together with himself have been supplied with provisions from Harmony at 100 per cent, above their value; but cheaper, they have [447] said, than they could have then and there raised them." "I, Sir, do not approve of going into the wilderness away from market and society, while land is to be had with both. What is Harmony?" "It is a most flourishing settlement, and indeed the only flourishing one I saw in the wilderness. What think you, Mr. Law, of the climate?" "Why, Sir, as Lloyd says,

"With things at once so hot and cold,
I can no friendship hold."

Mr. Law talks in an oratorical manner, and with an energy of action which makes him appear much in earnest. He is full to overflowing, and quite inexhaustible. "His worth," says Mr. Elliott, "is not one-tenth of it known, but is thrown away upon this country."

"It is said, Sir, that the population of this country is systematically unprincipled, and almost without virtue." "That, Sir, is not true. In the cities, since the commercial distress, the people seem dishonest. The commercial demand from England, and the withdrawing a paper capital by this government, have driven the people to desperation. They are unjustly done by. They were once esteemed good customers. A circulating medium only is wanted to heal the breach. In the country the people are anxious to meet their engagements." "Do you, Sir, think that no remedy but famine remains for England?" "No, Sir! no other." "Then the sooner it comes the better." "But, Sir, (said he) [448] such confusion, and horror, and calamity, will characterize the catastrophe as the world has not seen." "Do you think it will exceed the French revolution? Will the people of England be more bloody and heartless in such a struggle than the French?" "The desperation of their situation will make them so. Consider, Sir, the rage, anguish, and collision of so many starving millions, screwed up into a space not larger than our state of Virginia. Here, Sir, we have plenty, and whether sleeping or waking are safe in our houses, and liberty and prosperity are secure. You, I find, are deputed to collect information. Dine with me on Monday, and I will get my sons out to meet you."