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66 sition paper.

* Franklin's head over his shop? How the people “ of New-York would roar with laughter were “ such a paragraph as this to appear in an oppo

Yesterday Franklin's head fell upon John Lang, Esq. the printer, as he was

opening his shop-door, and crushed him to cinders. Alas! poor Yorick !

« Or the following, which would perhaps be more true. Yesterday the bust of Dr. Franklin fell on Mr. Lang, the printer, as he was opening his shop-door, but, fortunately striking him in the head, he escaped unhurt.

“ Did you ever read the life of the illustrious Franklin? And did you ever read the memoirs s of a Parish Clerķ? I, P. P. Clerk of this parish, “ writeth this history, Amen!"

June 23, 1801. “ I am just returned from New-York, and I sit “ down to relate to thee my eventful journey. At “nine the stage-waggon called for me at the par“son's, and, after travelling about a mile, we took

up a middle-aged woman, of pleasing circum« ference, who kept a small pin-shop on the road. “ She was a notable matron, who disdained not “ brachial nor genual caresses, and who paid my

ferriage at Brooklyn, Would not this be a fa“ vourable opportunity to quote Ledyard's Praise “ of Women ? And to add, if, in having to cross “ the waters of the western continent, I was with"out coin to pay my ferriage, I never applied to

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ca woman but she put her hand into her pocket, “and pulled out three farthings!

“ On coming to town, my first care was to diss charge a bill I had incurred at Swords', * for

magazines and reviews. Here I encountered " the great Doctor Phlogiston, a gentleman of

easy address, good habit of body, and a coun. “tenance that indicated the stoicism of a chy. mist.

“I crossed the East River again to Brooklyn, “ with Mrs. Dungan, a lady of polished manners, “and voluble elocution. Seeing a dirty fellow “ carrying a portrait of Washington,-Madam, " said I to my fair companion, General Wasbington is, I think, in bad hands.

“ I forgot to tell you—at SwordsI had time to “ look into Gibbon's Memoirs, which were lying “ on the counter. His insertion of the Ode and “Sonnet was puerile. And what he says of Dry"den is not less injudicious. My choler rises “when Dryden is depreciated. Pope could not “ describe the rising or setting of the sun without "resorting to Dryden.

“ The most beautiful triplet in all poetry is to * be found in Dryden's version of the seventh « Æneis.

“ From land a gentle breeze arose by night,

Serenely shone the stars, the moon was bright, " And the sea trembled with her silver light.'


• Eminent printers and booksellers at New-York.

Which, in my opinion, is infinitely superior to “ the original.

Aspirant auræ in noctem, nec candida cursus “ Luna negat-splendet tremulo sub lumine pontus."

“ But this is travelling out of my road.At ós

Brooklyn I was accosted by a quondam acquaint

ance of George-town, to whom I was indebted “ about twenty-five dollars. Vidi et obstupui ! I “ would rather have met the great devil. But sic fata tulerunt. After I had shaken hands with “ him, the barber of Brooklyn, to whom in a for“mer expedition to New York, I owed one or two “ shillings for cutting my hair, came up with a “ serious face, and demanded his money also. . “ Here were the devil and barber to pay! Leave,

Sir, said I to the barber, your damnable countenance,


shall have your money. “ From the first invader of my purse I escaped “ as well as I could, and, handing Mrs. Dungan “ into the stage, I got in after her myself.

By these unexpected asperities, my tranquillity was disturbed, and I sought an oblivion of “reflexion in the company of Heloise.

What essenc'd youth on bed of blushing roses !"

“I could get no sleep the whole night. I “ know not whether it was love or conscience “ kept me awake; but sleep I could not. I can“ not think I was a victim to the anointed sove

reign of sighs and groans; for I repeat, that “ sooner than be in love I would change my hu

manity with a baboon. It was, perhaps, the “ Muse who kept me wakeful, for on my mid

night pillow I paraphrased the description of “ the War-horse in Job.

“ Proud in his strength, behold the warlike horse
“Paw the green valley, and demand the course.
“ With stately step he treads the dusty fields
“Glist'ning with groves of spears and moony shields.
“ First with retorted eye he hears th' alarms
“Of rushing multitudes and clashing arms.
“ Impatient to be free, he tears the plain,
“And tosses in his rage, his thunder-waving mane.
“ In vain the javelin glitters in his eyes,
“ He scorns the quiver, and the lance defies.
“ Clouds of thick smoke his fiery nostrils roll,
" And all the battle rushes on his soul.
“ He sees the moving phalanx rise around,
“ He hears the trumpet, and the shouts resound.
“He starts ! and fir’d by glory bears afar
"His trembling rider through the ranks of war."

« that

" I had something of importance to observe to you. I perceive, with undissembled sorrow, you

admit words into your vocabulary, for which there is no authority in the undefiled " writers of English. Appreciate and meliorate

are bad words ; so are novel and derange. Of "modern writers none are more ridiculous coin

ers of words than the Scotch and Welch Tourists. "Of these one introduces to desiderate, and tor

"tures it through all its inflexions; and another “ in descanting upon ruins, says very gravely,

they were castleated! The inference to be de“ duced from the page in which words of this “ kind appear is, that the taste of the writer has “ been abominably vitiated. “ The English language is not written with

purity in America.* The structure of Mr. Jefferson's sentences is, I think, Frencb; and he uses. " words unintelligible to an Englishman. Where “ the d—1 did he get the word lengthy? Breadthy, “and depthy would be equally admissible. I can " overlook his verb belittle; it is introduced in “ wantonness; but he has no right, that I know, . “ to out-adverb all other writers, and improve ill “ into illy. Does not his description of the junc“ tion of the Sbenandoah with the Potomac, disco

ver an elevated imagination ? But was one of my countrymen to describe the Natural Bridge (a huge mass of rock) “ springing,

springing, as it were, up to beaven," would it not be said, that Paddy had “ made a bull.

“ Come over, will my potatoe-ground “ next Saturday, and bring with you your Ad

ventures of Captain Bobadil. You can pass your Sunday with me-not in an affectation of

you, to

* If any work can transmit the English language uncorrupted to future generations on the banks of the Potomac, and Misissippi, it will be our matchless version of the Bible. While religion exists in America, there will be a perpetual standard for the English language.

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