self into the Atlantic. The river was not wanting in picturesqueness, and, once, while stretched at my ease on its banks, I meditated an Ode. ODE ON ASHLEY RIVER.* ON gentle Ashley's winding flood, I court the calm, umbrageous wood, Or, on its banks supinely laid, The distant mead and field survey, While flows the limpid stream along, With quick meanders through the grove, And when the moon, with lustre bright, While Whip-poor-will repeats his tale, The Mocking-bird pours out his strain. Hence with a calm, contented mind, Sweet pleasure comes without alloy; Our own felicity we find 'Tis from the heart springs genuine joy. [* Later, Hayne made verses on Ashley River.] An elder brother of Mr. Drayton was our neighbour on the river; he occupied, perhaps, the largest house and gardens in the United States of America.* Indeed I was now breathing the politest atmosphere in America; for our constant visitors were the highest people in the State, and possessed of more houseservants than there are inhabitants in Occoquan. These people never moved but in a carriage, lolled on sophas instead of sitting on chairs, and were always attended by their negroes to fan them with a peacock's feather. Such manners were ill suited to an Englishman [who] loved his ease; and who, whenever their carriages were announced, I always took my gun, and went into the woods. Oh! for a freedom from the restraint imposed by well-bred inanity. From Ashley River, after a short residence, we removed to Charleston, which was full of visitors from the woods, and exhibited a motley scene. Here was to be perceived a Coachee, without a glass to exclude the dust, driven by a black fellow, not less proud of the livery of luxury, than the people within the vehicle were of a suit made in the fashion. There was to be discovered a Carolinian buck, who had left off essences and powder, and, in what related to his hair, resembled an ancient Roman; but in the distribution of his dress, [* Charles Drayton, of "Drayton Hall," on Ashley River.] was just introducing that fashion in Charleston, which was giving way in succession to another in London. But he had an advantage over his transatlantic rival; he not only owned the horse he rode, but the servant who followed. To be brief, such is the pride of the people of Charleston, that no person is seen. on foot unless it be a mechanic, or some mechanical Tutor. He who is without horses and slaves incurs always contempt. The consideration of property has such an empire over the mind, that poverty and riches are contemplated through the medium of infamy and virtue. Even negroes are infected with this idea; and Cuffey shall be heard to exclaim, He great blackguard that he got no negur. Where his horse? He alway walk. I found my friend Doctor De Bow in high repute at Charleston, and not without the hope that he should soon keep his carriage. Scribimus docti indoctique. He was busy in writing a piece for the Medical Repository at New-York; that is, he was communicating his thoughts in a letter to the great Doctor Mitchel. His object was to undermine the fame of the Charleston Physicians, by exposing the impropriety of their treatment of the Group; a complaint uncommonly prevalent in the Southern States of the Union. "This [* Samuel Latham Mitchill, 1764-1831, "Nestor of Amercan Science."] "treatise, whispered the Doctor, will make me be called in to children, and if I once get the child for a patient, I shall soon have "the parents. Oh! that I could only express my thoughts on paper! I would carry every thing before me. But writing and "talking require very different qualifications. "Impudence will make an orator; but to write "well requires reading digested by reflection." The Doctor entreated I would lend him my assistance to write his Essay on the Croup. I begged to be excused by professing my utter unacquaintance with the mode of treating the disease. "No matter, said the Doctor. How to treat the disease no man knows better than "I; but treating it, and writing a treatise on "it are things widely different. Come, let me dictate to you the heads of the discourse, "and do you lengthify and ramify them "secundum artem into a treatise. Quote a "good deal of Latin, and dignify your style "with all the hard words you can remember. "But let the title be powerful; let it smite the eye of the reader with irresistible force. "For the Medical Repository! New, but un"answerable, objections against the present "mode of treating the Croup by the Physicians of Charleston; communicated in a let ter to Dr. Mitchel, by W. De Bow, M.D."Nullius addictus jurare in verba magistri!" Bravo, cried I. And now, Doctor, for a few words of introduction to the philippic. That, sir, you shall have; I never could endure a play without a prologue. Why, say (but write the first word in capitals), "PHYSICIANS, however they may be es"tablished and in vogue, are yet liable to be "mistaken in their prognostics and diagnos"tics. Humanum est errare!" The Doctor was here interrupted by a negro boy, who called him to attend his master in the last stage of the yellow fever. The Doctor immediately slipped on a black coat, put his enormous spectacles on his nose, and snatching up his gold-headed cane, followed the negro down stairs. The Doctor being gone, it was not possible to do justice to the Treatise on the Croup; but finding myself disposed to write something, I addressed my friend in an Ode. The Doctor was about to embark for the Havannah as Surgeon of a ship; and his approaching voyage furnished me with a hint. ODE TO WILLIAM DE BOW, M.D. SINCE on the ocean's boundless deep, Long has it been our doom to roam, With hearts by friendship's cement bound, |