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SLAVERY IN VIRGINIA, HE plantation is large; containing, I believe, between nine and ten thousand acres; and several hundred negroes are attached to it. Some of the females are employed in taking care of the children, or in household occupations; others in the fields; while the old ones enjoy a sort of otium cum dignitate, at their quarters. These quarters consists of log cabins, disposed in two rows on either side a wide avenue, with each a little garden, in which they raise vegetables. Whitewashed and clean, they exhibited an appearance of comfort, which, in some measure, served to reconcile me to bondage. At the door of one of these, as we walked this way one evening, stood a little old negro, with his body bent in a curve and his head as white as snow, leaning on what an Irishman would call a shillalah. He was the patriarch of the tribe; and enjoyed in his old age a life of perfect ease. Yon might hear him laugh half a mile; and he seemed to possess a full portion of that unreflecting gaiety, which, happily for his race, so generally falls to their portion, and perhaps makes them some amends for the loss of freedom. Relying on their master for the supply of all their wants, they are in a sort of state of childhood, equally exempt with children from all the cares of providing support and subsistence, for their offspring. This old man is of an unknown age; his birth being beyond history or tradition; and, having once been in the service of Lord Dunmore, he looks down with a dignified contempt on the plebeian slaves around him. The greatest aristocrat in the world, is one of these fellows who has belonged to a great man,—I mean with the exception of his master.—Letters from the South. --RICHMOND. It is beautifully situated, just on the line of division between the region of sea-sand, and of river alluvions, and at the foot of James-River rapids. Above, the river foams aud roars among the rocks; below, it winds gently and quietly through a sweet landscape of meadows, and golden harvest fields. It was once, and until lately, inhabited principally by a race of most ancient and respectable planters, having estates in the country, who chose it for their resi1
dence for the sake of social enjoyment. They formed a society, which, I am sorry to say, is now seldom to be met with in any of our cities; I mean, a society of people, not exclusively monopolized by money-making pursuits, but of liberal education, liberal habits of thinking and acting, and possessing both leisure and inclination to cultivate those feelings, and pursue those objects, which exalt our nature, -rather than increaso our fortune. In fact, no young man, now-a-days, at least in our commercial places, thinks' of sitting down quietly in the enjoyment of wealth, and the cultivation of those elegant pursuits which adorn our nature, and exalt a country. Sometimes, indeed, he becomes what is called a gentleman, that is to say, he abandons every useful or honourable pursuit, and either lounges away a contemptible existence in doing nothing, or in doing what he ought not to have done. But the most common fate of young men, in our part of the world, who inherit great fortunes, is, to set about making them greater.— Letters from the South. -To POGRAPHICAL DESCRIPTION OF BOSTON. Charles Shaw, esq. member of the American Antiquarian Society, has published a topographical and historical description of Boston. In this little work are brought together, with a good deal of industry, the scattered materials of the early history of the metropolis of New England. If it does not furnish all the facts that can at the present day be ascertained, respecting the origin and progress of the town, it is more complete than readers, not conversant with the history of the country, would expect it to be, and perhaps as full as most readers would desire. Although the peninsula on which the town is situated was a favourite spot with the Indians, while they were the lords of the soil, and is supposed to have been thickly inhabited, so that nearly all the wood was cut from it, and the land appropriated to corn-fields, yet it did not attract the attention of our ancestors until after several other spots in the vicinity had been selected for settlements. Salem, Charlestown, Cambridge, and Dorchester, were settled before Boston. The first Englishman, who slept on the spot where Boston now stands is supposed
posed to have been William Blaxton. He claimed the whole peninsula as his property. The principal emigration to Massachusetts took place in 1630. Salem only was settled two years before; Dorchester was settled in May of this year, and the most considerable of the emigrants, after having touched at Salem, arrived at Charlestown in July. Blaxton invited Governor Winthrop to Boston, where he had built a small cottage, in which he resided, but the governor then preferred settling at Cambridge; Mr. Johnson, however, and several others, who came with Gov. Winthrop, accepted Blaxton's invitation, and the settlement of the town immediately commenced. The governor followed them the year attor, and from this time the town seems to have
an agreement was made will Blaxton for the purchase of all his right; namely, all the lands within the neck, (except six acres reserved to him,) for the sum of thirty pounds,-and for the payment of this, an assessment of six shillings was laid on each householder, and, on the richer part, a larger sum. Besides the right of Blaxton, the inhabitants of the town purchased the land of Chicatabut, the reigning sachem, for a valuable consideration; and fifty-five years afterwards, they purchased of Josias Wampatuck, the grandson of Chicatabut, his quitclaim of the same territory. The first meetings of the GeneralCourt, after the arrival of the governor, deputy-governor, and assistants, from England, were held at Charlestown. But October 19, 1630, the first GeneralCourt of the colony was held at Boston. The peninsula was called by the Indians Shaumut ; but, by the first settlers at Charlestown, it was called Tremount, from the three peaks of Beacon Hill, visible from that town. It received its present name from the affection of some of the first planters for their native place, Boston in England, and this name was confirmed by the General-Court, in the first year of its settlement. In this work will be found, extracted from the historians of the day, some deMonthly MAG, No. 315.
Collections from American Literature. 41
scription of the town, and of the native inhabitants. The most important incidents in the history of the town are also related, as they are found recorded in a great variety of our early authors, and in the town records. From this last source, the author has obtained many important facts, and a variety of amusing details, relating to our municipal history. The part of the town first settled was the borders of the cove, called the Town Dock, which extended through the spot where the market now stands. The settlements afterwards extended to the north end, which was for many years much the most populous and elegant quarter of the town. That part of the town lies nearest to the ship channel, and is on that account the most convenient for business. Its decline is probably owing to its being crowded with buildings, and those not suited to the increasing wealth and improving taste of the inhabitants. The first houses were meanly built, with thatched roofs, and chimneys constructed of wood covered with clay and mortar; but, in the course of a few years, the style of building seems to have greatly improved. John Josselyn, who visited Boston in 1633, says, the buildings were handsome, ‘joining one to another as in London, with many large streets, most of them paved with pebble.’ He says, there were some buildings of stone; that there was one stately edifice that cost nearly 3000 pounds, and that there were three fair meeting houses. Moll, the celebrated geographer, in 1717, says there were abundance of fine buildings, both public and private; that it was a very flourishing city; and, for the beauty of its structure and its great trade, it gave place to few in England. The population of the town was then estimated at 12,000. Boston was soon found to be advantageously situated for trade, and it consequently increased more rapidly than any of the neighbouring places in popusation and wealth. In October 1632, about two years after the first settlement of the town, the number of church members was a hundred and fifty-two. In 1673, the number of families was estimated at fifteen hundred. Computing from the average number of deaths about the year 1700, it is probable that the number of inhabitants was then about nine thousand. Computing from the same data, there seems to have been a regular increase until 1742, when we find the number stated at eighteen thouG sand. 42 sand. From that period to the year 1791 there appears to have been no increase of population. During a part of the intermediate time it did not exceed fifteen thousand. By the census of 1800 it was found to be twenty-four thousand nine Aundred and thirty-seven; and in 1810, thirty-three thousand two hundred and fifty. In 1818, it undoubtedly exceeds forty thousand. This work gives a full description and history of all the public buildings in Boston, as well as of its literary, benevolent, and other institutions. It contains also a good many anecdotes and amusing extracts from ancient authors. It is not so full in some parts as could have been wished, or as it might easily have been made by the author. It is also deficient in method and arrangement, and contains some trifling descriptions, which might, without injury, have been omitted. Still it contains a fund of entertainment, and useful information, and is on the whole much better executed than any work of the kind that we have ever met with.—NorthAmerican Review. -oVIRGINIANS. Whatever may be the imaginary, the greater portion of the real, denizens of
this part of the country are mere matter
of-fact Germans; four-square, solid, and deliberative smokers, as e'er put pipe in mouth, or carried a tin tobacco-box. They are of the genuine useful class of people, who make two dozen ruddy blades of clover grow where never a one grew before—who save all they make—work harder and harder the richer they grow ; speak well of the government, except when the taxingman pays a visit, and pay their trisle of assessment with as bad a grace as any people you will see in a summer's day. o is singular, what a difference there is between these and the Tuckahoe. The latter is a gallant, high-spirited, lofty, lazy sort of being, much more likely to spend money than earn it, and who, however he may consume, is not very likely to add much to the fruits of the earth. People are very apt to judge of themselves by a comparison with others, and the Tuckahoe, feeling himself so greatly superior to his slaves, is inclined fo hold every body else equally his inferior. This sense of imaginary superiority is the parent of high qualities, and prevents the possessor very often from indulging mean and contemptible propensities, Pride, indeed, is a great
Collections from American Literature.
preserver of human virtue, which is often so weak as to require the support of some prop less pure than itself. Hence it is, that the pride of family, and the . sense of superiority, when properly directed, are the parcuts of high heroic characteristics, just as when improperly directed they are used as licenses for every species of debauchery, and justifications for every breach of morality and decorum. To minds properly constituted, the reputation of a father is a spur to excellence, a conservator of virtue; but to petty intellects, it is a
mere diploma of folly and impertinence.
The last think, because they were hatched in the eagle's nest, they must,
of necessity, be young eagles, whether
they take their lofty flight in the regions of the stars, or wallow in puddles with geese and swine.
The Tuckahoe of the better sort is a gallant, generous person, who is much better qualified to defend his country in time of war, than to enrich it in a period of peace. He is like a singed cat, and very often takes as much pains to appear worse than he is, as some people among us do to appear better. In short, the Tuckahoe belongs to a class of beings, among whom, in times of great danger, when the existence of a people is at stake, will be found the men who will be most likely to save or sink with their country. Manual industry seldom produces great men, and it is not often that the best citizens make the bravest soldiers.-Letters from the South.
I am now in the very midst of that great congregation of hills, comprising all the spurs, branches, knobs, and peaks, of the great chain which has been
called, with a happy aptitude, the back
bone of America. From the window where I am now writing, I can see them. running into each other, as when we lock our fingers together, exhibiting an infinitude of various outlines; some waving, others rising in peaks, and others straight. for many miles. Every where they are covered from top to bottom with every. various shade of green foliage; except that here and there a bare rocky promontory is seen, crowned at its summit with pines. As the clouds pass over, am, infinite succession of light and shadow is, produced, that occasions a perpetual variety in the combinations of scenery. The sides of many of the ridges are, at: intervals, ribbed with forests of pine, the deep foliage of which fringes the rocky,
1818.] original Letters between Dr. Young and Mr. Richardson. 43
projections from the foot to the summit, broad at the bottom and ending in a point. Between these projecting ribs, in the deep glens, is seen a motley host of forest trees, all green, but all different in proportion as they are exposed to the sum, or enveloped in the shade. In some places appear extensive patches of deep red or brown, where the trees have been set on fire, either by accident, or with a view to turn the side of the hill into pasture. In traversing this mountain region, one of the first things that struck me was the solemn, severe silence, which prevailed every where, and only broken, at distant intervals, by the note of the cock
of the woods; the chirping of a ground squirrel; the crash of a falling tree; or the long echoes of the fowler's gun, which render the silence, thus broken in upon for a moment, still more striking. But, if it should happen that a gust of wind comes on, the scene of repose is instantly changed into one of sublime and appalling noise and motion. The forest roars, the trees totter, and the limbs crack, in a way that is calculated to alarm the stoutest city tourist. You can hear it coming at a distance, roaring like far-off thunder, and warning the traveller to get into some clear spot, out of the reach of the falling trees.—Letters from the South.
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY ORIGINAL LETTERs
EDWARD YOUNG, Author of Night Thoughts, and MR. SAMUEL RICHARDSON, Author of Clarissa Grandison, &c.
LETTER CXXXIX. Jan. 24, 1759. EE, dear and reverend sir, the trou- ble you have brought upon yourself by your coudescension: this one time more forgive me. My Patty my transcriber. Page 2.-Though, on the contrary, being born amongst men, and of consequence piqued by many, and peevish at more, he has blasphemed, &c. Might not the observation on nicety (page 2,) come in naturally in page 1, after human face divine ; thus, --if this author's definition of a nice man is just, he was the nicest man alive : but at so nice a writer, how does the reader of any delicacy sicken. He has so satirized human nature, as to give a demonstration in himself, that it deserves, &c. Then the second remark, in page 2, comes in its proper place, thus introduced, —Though, on the contrary, being born, (&c. as above)—he has blasphemed a nature little lower than that of angels, and assumed by far higher than they, surely the contempt of the world, &c. Page 2.--Do not the words, For as, begin a new paragraph oddly P Suppose thus, I remember, as I and others, &c. Page 3, line 2. —Is repute the word Page 3.-Forgive, sir, the following free suggestions, line 11.—The general fault of imitators, who often, like Alexander's courtiers, copy the defect and infirmity of their hero along with, if not without, his excellencies. Imitation is struck with the loud report of former fame, which damps the spirits, and, at best, calls out attendant laurel-bearers to follow in the funeral procession of dead Jenown. Emulation listens to it, as to a
sprightly trumpet, inspiring redoubled ardor to be foremost in the field of Fame. She eachorls us, instead, &c. Page 3, 4.—Which blessed him with all her charms. Alexander would have been more original if he could, since he wept for , want of new worlds to conquer. Rather, therefore, he wept not like his namesake of Greece, for new worlds to conquer; but was contented to triumph in the old. His taste partook the error of his religion: it denied not worship to saints and angels; that is, to writers who, canonized for ages, have received their apotheosis from established and universal fame. True poesy, like true religion, abhors idolatry; and, though she honours the memory of the exemplary, and takes them willingly, yet cautiously, as guides in the way to glory, she makes nothing less than excellence her aim, and looks for no inspiration less than divine. Though Pope's noble Muse may, &c. Page 4,--Instead of one: perhaps it was granted ; for when I was, &c. Is your information true here, sir? I have heard, that he did not more than talk of such a design that he once had. I believe, either Dr. Warburton or Mr. Mallet, or both, would have let us know this, had there been the least room for it. By noble hands, too noble, &c.—you mean not Bolingbroke's, I presume? Page 5.-Not swept so clean. Not swept so clean, did I say ” To our stage in its present state (and yet its present state is much better than it hath been in some former times,) the stables of Augaeus were a place of safety and neatness. In these stables men were devoured by horses: in our licentious comedies, how often does the brute devour the nobler man; devour G 2 him.
44 original Letters between Dr. Young and Mr. Richardson. [Aug. 1,
him body and soul too? What a mass of corruption ? Were there an Hercules to extirpate the wild beast, who is often too rampant, even in our tragedies, the theatre might easily become again a temple sacred to virtue and improvement; but, till then, what do we more in bringing on now and then a play, be it ever so correct and blameless, than endeavour to sweeten a pestilential vault by pouring in, once a twelvemonth, a pint of rose-water Page 12.—Would not be felt by Addison. Page 12.—But was for softening tyranny into the appearance, at least, of lawful monarchy; though, when provoked, his punishments were severe, and sometimes arbitrary. All dunces (and who of his friends and admirers did he deem such Who that were not so did he deem otherwise?) he looked upon as criminals by mature, and dreaded them as Sparta the Helots. Addison, born to rightful sway, reigned mildly as a parent, and was best pleased to reign by the public voice.
Page 14.—Had been immortal, though he had never writ. Yes, surely, had he been the most unlettered good Christian, he had been immortal by the best title; even though he had died the most suddenly: , . Page 14.—You know the value of his writings; you know, too, that Iris life was amiable, was exemplary; but you know not, I believe, that his death was triumphant. This is a glory granted to very few ; mor is it of much consequence to the individual. That parental hand, which sometimes snatches home its children in a moment, is equally gracious in its various dispensations. Yet, where strength and opportunity are given for virtues to shine brightest at the point of death, the example is certainly meant for general good. Such was that of Addison: for after, &c. Page 15.--Instead of, in words penetrating as lightning, and almost as short; snppose-in a tery short sentence, but penetrating as lightning. See in what peace, &c. Page 15.—May I presume to offer to you, sir, the concluding of this fine para. graph at the word eternity; omitting what follows, How gloriously, &c. to greatness of heart? Page 15.—I think you will not doubt, but many a reader may, both the probability and truth of what I tell you. Page 16.-Should there not, sir, be given some more particular proof of the truth of this story, (Lord W. and Mr. A.
only present, and the former not a good
young man,)—than an allusion to Tickell's Lives; and Mr. A. said, to expire as soon as he had spoken the admirable sentence 2 The particulars must have been had from
some one : why not name from whom * You write the story now for the world. Page 16,-How came this anecdote, so honourable to human nature, to lie so long unknown f Alas, my dear friend, the world thinks differently from us on points like these. He who falls in a duel is talked of as dying honourably. The despairing suicide attracts an honourable attention for a while: but, in general, the living scene occupies the talk of the day; and, in that too, the bad makes most noise, while the good is sunk in silence. Petty efforts in arts or arms are echoed far and near: they glitter of themselves in the world's eye. But that faith which orercometh the world will be little regarded by it : and such was Addison's. When his soul scarce animated his body, faith and charity animated it into a warm effort at saving more than his own. [Is not the next full bold?] Page 16.-Indisputably true. Here, sir, suppose you name the authority? Then, suppose you insert, This story was hinted at, though very obscurely, in two finely pathetic lines by Mr. Tickell:—He taught us, &c. Suppose, sir, yon omit the rest of that p. 16, for raising him an immortal monument is not gathering a few sticks. It may suffice to leave out a page immortal, &c. Page 17,-O ! that the contrast of Lord B.'s death, cursing and blaspheming, could be introduced : very dreadful I have heard it was. I presume, (additional to my other prestumptions,) that what follows might be shortened. Shall I dare to think that there are stiffnesses, not usual to Dr. Y.'s pen, here and there, in this latter part. But what affects me most of all is, that theie may not be wanting some, who, from such very great things being said, and so much, of Mir. Addison's death, by so admired an author, and so good a Christian and divine, will be apt to think less of a still incomparably greater death, both in manner and fact, had both been mere men, as well as in efficacy. In this latter, however, I am sure Dr. Y. will take care that Mr. A. appear but as an imi. tator; and a very very humble one,— though great as a mortal in that light. Forgive me, sir, all my impertinencies, once more, I beg; and believe me ever Your faithful and assectionate humble servant, S. RICHARDson.
LETTER CXL. Rev. sir, Dec. 18, 1758. I am very sorry for my delays, but I could not avoid them, from infirmity and avocations, equally unavoidable. Could not