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ivaring, and roaring and running, till he got

upon deck.

The next morning the sun shone down the sky light into the cabin. We were all in our beds, and a silence had prevailed several hours, when Mr. Waters, charmed with its rays, exclaimed, “ Great luminary of the world! wel“ come to my sight! No more shall I wonder " that thou art worshipped by the heathen.”

The gale having abated, we prosecuted our voyage, and on the morning of the 5th of February, 1800, saw the high land of the Jerseys. As the day advanced we could distinguish the light-house on Sandy-Hook, and with a pleasant breeze were wafted to the wharves of New York.


Engagements at New-York-An American Au

thorMr. George arrives at New-YorkEpistolary Correspondence- A visit to Long IslandThe Classical Elegance of the New-York Reviewers exhibitedJourney to the City of Wasbington.

My first care on returning to New-York, was to deliver a letter I had been favoured with from Mr. Spierin, to his friend Bishop Moore. I waited on the Bishop most opportunely, for the preceding day he had been applied to by an opulent merchant to procure a Tutor for his children, and I was a Tutor by trade.

The Bishop introduced me to Mr. Ludlow and his lady, who received me with formality ; but whose conversation I thought interesting, because they offered me a handsome salary to educate their children. In the woods of Carolina, I had received eighty guineas a-year; but Mr. Ludlow proposed a hundred.

I therefore exchanged my lodgings with Major Howe for an elegant structure in Broad Way, and took possession of a chamber that was worthy to lodge a Prince.

My pupils were few for the salary I enjoyed. I had only three boys, Robert, Ferdinand, and Edward, (I delight to give their names) who possessed much suavity of manners, and volubility of tongue. They learned very well, when disposed to learn their books; for, as I was restricted to practice only blandishments, their application was never imposed.

The author of Arthur Mervyn, living at NewYork, I sought acquaintance with a man who had acquired so much intellectual renown. I found Mr. Brown quite in the costume of an author, * embodying virtue in a new novel, and making his pen fly before him.

Mr. Brown occupied a dismal room in a dismal street. I asked him whether a view of nature

* By the costume of an author I imply a great coat and shoes down at heel.

would not be more propitious to composition ; or whether he should not write with more facility were his window to command the prospect of the Lake of Geneva.-Sir, said he, good pens, thick paper, and ink well diluted, would facilitate my composition more than the prospect of the broadest expanse of water, or mountains rising above the clouds. *

I pass over common occurrences to embrace again Mr. George, who had left the Academy at George-town, and, like a true poet, was without a settled habitation. I procured him lodgings under the roof of Major Howe; and, the better to enjoy a freedom from interruption, I took my friend to King's little tavern, near the Presbyterian Church,—where we drank, and smoked, and chatted, and laughed till midnight.

I introduced Mr. George to Colonel Burr, whom I had not neglected ; and I also presented him to Bishop Moore, who had procured me a salary of a hundred guineas. I have ever felt the highest veneration for the dignified office of Prelate. There are many of different feelings. But as the English soldier dętested a Frenchman because he wore wooden shoes; so many cannot endure a Bishop because he wears lawn to his sleeves.

* When I mentioned this reply of Mr. Brown to one of the most distinguished literary characters now living, -Sir, said he, this American Author cannot, I think, be a man of much fancy.

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It was the custom of Mr. Ludlow every summer to exchange the tumult of the city, for the quiet of his rural retreat; or, in other words, to remove his family from New York, to a place called West Chester. But knowing that Mr. George was in some solicitude for his future support, and being myself engaged by Caritat, on liberal terms, to compile a volume of modern Poetry,* I presented my friend to the family, extolled the multiplicity of his attainments, and resigned to him my place. In truth I was weary of setting boys their copies, and I wanted some remission to my fatigue.

Mr. George a few days after followed the family into their retreat, which he has described, together with the state of his own feelings, in a familiar epistle.

“ No prospect can be more enchanting than “ that from our mansion. Two tufted islands at

a distance, leave a vista between them, through “which gleam the turrets of New-York, rising “ like a new creation from the sea. “But my time rolls heavily along. Let casuists

* This volume of modern Poetry was to be a royal octavo, of one thousand pages. It was to contain all the poems

of all the modern Poets. Caritat made a voyage to England with no other purpose than to collect all their works.

He bought up all the modern poetry that London could furnish ; and when I say this, I need not observe that the ship which contained his cargo drew a great depth of water. were kept constantly going.

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reason as they will; a vigorous mind can des “ rive no satisfaction from retirement. It is only “ on the great theatre of the world that we can “ be sensible of the pleasures of existence. The

solitary mind is its own sepulchre ; and where variety is unknown, or the passions are sup

pressed, the noblest energies are lost for want “ of pleasures to sooth, or ambition to excite “ them. I have one consolation; the delight of

your correspondence; which will alone sooth

my mind to tranquillity in these regions of so“ litude. Really friendship includes something « in its essence that is divine; and I begin to

persuade myself ours is not of that frail struc“ ture whose fabric may be overthrown by the “collision of interest, or the competition of vanity. .

“ I have again read over your epistles from “ Coosohatchie, and am now travelling with you

through the swamps of Pocotaligo, and the « woods of Asheepoo. There is certainly a plea“sure in retracing our former footsteps, and pur“suing our adventures through the wilds of “ Carolina. I can now behold you sitting with “ the driver in the front seat, and smoking your

segar, while the solitary vehicle rolls slowly “ through the forests.

“ I return to domestic occurrences. Yesterday “ we had the breakfast table placed in the piazza, " and a number of ladies from New-York, form66 ed a circle around it. None were remarkable “ for taste, but all for Tea-table-talkativeness, (a


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