Letters While a Pastor in Virginia, and Until He Left the State, 1827–1829

RETIREMENT, CHARLOTTE Co., YA., March 13, 1827. We are now enjoying spring in all its sweetness. I am sitting with opened windows, into which the “sweet south” is breathing. Our gardens are redolent with vernal fragrance. The time of the singing of birds has come, and no country can boast of more charms in this respect than Virginia. The wood lark, and the mocking-bird are songsters of the first order. Read a graphic description of the latter in Wilson’s Ornithology. They are sometimes taken to the North in cages, but in that case you seldom hear the rich gushing of their natural strains, as when they sit among the hawthorn bushes, and pour out melody for hours. The ploughs are all now in motion, and with this there arise many agreeable associations. This day I am twenty-three years old; and the recurrence of a birth-day when properly viewed gives occasion for many solemn reflections. How much of my life has passed fruitlessly! How little have I done in forming an elevated character! How many have been eminent public benefactors at this age! I feel as if my religious proficiency had been small indeed, compared with that of many whom I could name. Let me beg of you also, at this interesting period of your life, to ask seriously, what stand you intend to take with regard to the all-important matter of religion. In church matters I have some encouragements. My congregation, though small, is increasing, and I have reason to believe that the attachment which the people manifest is real. Mr. Randolph is daily expected at Roanoke. The citizens have determined to send him to Congress. I hope to hear him speak on the first

Monday in April. His silence lias been remarkable during the last session.

I do not think it by any means incumbent upon me as an Adams man, or consistent as a preacher, to talk much about politics; but I am sorely vexed from day to day at the enormities of the opposition. My ears arc forever ringing with the cant which has become so current on this subject. There is some show of reason, I must confess, in the arguments of the politicians here. The tariff forces them to pay more for many articles, and repays them with no advantage.

On the 3d inst. I was ordained to the work of the gospel ministry by the Hanover presbytery. A number of clergymen and a vast concourse of the laity were here present. More than thirty strangers lodged at this house on one night. It was a solemn service, one which I hope long to remember with feelings of awe as well as gratitude. Since that time I have been on a visit to Prince Edward [County] to assist a neighbouring preacher. I there saw such an instance of solitary life as I never before witnessed. Mrs. Spencer, a woman of nearly eighty years of age, has lived the life of a hermit for about thirty years. Her residence is a little log hut, at a distance from any other habitation, and she suffers no living being to remain with her during the night, or for any long period during the day. Her victuals are cooked about half a mile off, and sent to her once a day. She is crooked and withered; dresses always in white linen, and in the oldest fashion. Her whole time is spent in reading the Scriptures, singing, and prayer. Visitors some times have to remain nearly an hour at her door, before she concludes the prayer in which she may be engaged. She is the most unearthly being I ever beheld; her conversation is pleasant and rational; and her religion seems to be unfeigned and ardent. You may judge of the difference of climate, when I tell you that our fruit trees were in bloom, and many trees in leaf on the 10th instant. For about six weeks we have had weather of very mild temperature. Mr. [John C.] Calhoun passed through our county on the llth inst. on his way home. On last Monday, when two or three thousand people were assembled at the court-house, we had several “stump speeches,” as they are called. I think this mode of addressing the populace well calculated to advance p< ppular eloquence; while it gives great room for the influence, of demagogues. Two of the persons who spoke,’ were men of talents, and even eloquence. It is here that some of Mr. Randolph’s most brilliant essays have been made, and his style of oratory has given a character to that of the people.

CHARLOTTE, April 10, 1827.

I do not remember in any “letters from the South,” a description of a Virginia court day, and as I know of nothing which exhibits in more lively colours the distinctive traits of the State character, I will employ a little time in sketching a scene of this kind, which presented itself on Monday the 2d of April. The court of Charlotte Co. is regularly held upon the first Monday of every month, and there is usually a large concourse of people. This was an occasion of peculiar interest, as the elections for Congress and the State Legislature were then to take place. As the day was fine, I preferred walking, to the risk of having my horse alarmed, and driven away by the hurly-burly of such an assemblage. In making my way along the great road which leads from my lodgings to the place of public resort, I found it all alive with the cavalcades of planters and country-folk going to the raree show. A stranger would be forcibly struck with the perfect familiarity with which all ranks were mingling in conversation, as they moved along upon their fine pacing horses. Indeed, this sort of equality exists to a greater degree here than in any country with which I am acquainted. Here were young men, whose main object seemed to be the exhibition of their spirited horses, of the true race breed, and their equestrian skill. The great majority of persons were dressed in domestic, undyed cloth, partly from economy, and partly from a State pride, which leads many of our most wealthy men, in opposing the tariff, to reject all manufactures which are protected by the Government. A man would form a very incorrect estimate of the worldly circumstances of a Virginia planter who should measure his finances by the fineness of his coat. When I came near to the village, I observed hundreds of horses tied to the trees of a neighbouring grove, and further on could descry an immense and noisy multitude covering the space around the court-house. In one quarter, near to the taverns, were collected the mob, whose chief errand is to drink and quarrel. In another was exhibited a fair of all kinds of vendibles, stalls of mechanics and tradesmen, eatables and drinkables, with a long line of Yankee wagons, which are never wanting on these occasions. The loud cries of salesmen vending wares at public auction, were mingled with the vociferation of a stump orator, who in the midst of a countless crowd was advancing his claims as a candidate for the House of Delegates. I threaded my way into this living mass, for the purpose of hearing the oration. A grey-headed man was discoursing upon the necessity of amending the State constitution, and defending the propriety of calling a convention. His elocution was good, and his arguments very plausible, especially when he dwelt upon the very unequal representation in Virginia. This, however, happens to be the unpopular side of the question in our region, and the populace, while they respected the age and talents of the man, showed but faint signs of acquiescence. The candidate, upon retiring from the platform on which he had stood, was followed by a rival, who is well known as his standing opponent. The latter kept the people in a roar of laughter by a kind of dry humour which is peculiar to himself. Although far inferior to the other in abilities and learning, he excels him in all those qualities which go to form the character of a demagogue. He appealed to the interests of the planters and slave owners, he turned into ridicule all the arguments of the former speaker, and seemed to make his way to the hearts of the people. He was succeeded by the candidate for the Senate, Henry E. Watkins, of Prince Edward, a man of great address and suavity of manner; his speech was short but pungent and efficient, and although he lost his

election, he left a most favourable impression upon the public mind. We had still another address from one of the late delegates, who proposed himself again as a candidate. Before commencing his oration, he announced to the people, that by a letter from Mr. Randolph, he was informed that we should not have the pleasure of seeing that gentleman, as he was confined to his bed by severe illness. This was a sore disappointment. It was generally expected that Mr. R. would have been present, and I had cherished the hope of hearing him once in my life. It would give you no satisfaction for me to recount to you the several topics of party politics upon which the several speakers dilated. We proceeded (or rather as many as could proceeded) to the court-house, where the polls were opened. The candidates, six in number, were ranged upon the Justices’ bench, the clerks were seated below, and the election began, viva vocc. The throng and confusion were great, and the result was that Mr. Randolph was unanimously elected for Congress, Col. Wyatt for the Senate, and the two former members to the Legislature of the State. After the election sundry petty squabbles took place among the persons who had been opposing ‘one another in the contest. Towards night a scene of unspeakable riot took place; drinking and fighting drove away all thought of politics, and many a man was put to bed disabled by wounds and drunkenness. This part of Virginia has long been celebrated for its breed of horses. There is a scrupulous attention paid to the preservation of the immaculate English blood. Among the crowd on this day were snorting and rearing fourteen or fifteen stallions, some of which were indeed fine specimens of that noble creature. Among the rest, Mr. Randolph’s celebrated English horse Roanoke, who is nine years old, and has never been “backed.” That which principally contributes to this great collection of people on our court days, is the fact that all public business, and all private contracts, are settled at this time. All notes are made payable on these days, &c., &c. But you must be tired with Charlotte Court; I am sure that I am. I have succeeded in getting a reading-room established in our little hamlet. We arc just beginning; have subscribed for the American Quarterly, the North American, Edinburgh, Quarterly, Westminster, Blackwood’s Magazine, United States Literary Gazette, Christian Observer, with a number of newspapers. This will superinduce the odours of literature upon our desert. If you will not come, I must proceed to give you a topographical description of this estate of Mrs. Le Grand’s upon which I live. If you will take the trouble of looking at the map of Virginia, you will see the village in which our court-house stands marked Marysville, and a little to the west of it a small river called Little Roanoke. Mrs. Le Grand’s estate runs from the court-house southward about three miles, and in breadth is much less. On the north it reaches to the village. On the south and west it has little Roanoke for its boundary. On the west it is bounded by an estate of Mr. Randolph’s called Bushy Forest. It is nearly level throughout, the few elevations being very inconsiderable. Most of the land is covered with thick forests, intersected by many roads. The most fertile portion is the flat land, through which the stream above mentioned runs. The central part is in the highest state of cultivation.

I must pause to tell you (what you certainly could never find out of yourself) that the birds are making melody this day in a manner more exquisite than usual. Be it known to you, as a matter of the utmost importance, that I am a most enthusiastic admirer of the singing of birds, and that I live in a region where I enjoy this sort of pleasure in perfection. I often stop for half

1 In the “Life of Archibald Alexander, D. D.,” Dr. J. W. Alexander, relating the first pastoral settlement of his father, says: “His residence was in the county of Charlotte, at the house of Major Edmund Read. And by a remarkable coincidence, one of his sons, the first settled in the ministry, dwelt in the same house thirty years afterwards, and enjoyed the hospitality of the same Christian lady, Paulina Le Grand, formerly Mrs. Read. Here, at the mansion still known as Retirement, about two miles from the Court House, Mr. [A.] Alexander resided three or four years.” (Chap, viii.) The letter of April 10 contained a diagram of the dwelling and grounds of “Retirement.” The coincidence of the father and son having their first pastorates over the same congregation, has been in a measure extended to the third generation — the eldest son of Dr. J. W. Alexander having beea called to supply the same pulpit.

an hour to listen to that most capricious, sweet, jovial, fascinating musician, the Mocking-bird. Whatever may be the case with the European mimic, it is by no means true of ours, that he has no originality. I have never heard the song of any bird comparable to his, and I watch his habits very closely. He is to be found about sunrise upon the topmost twig of the highest tree, swelling and throbbing with the gush of melody, pouring out a stream of song, infinitely varied, of clear, liquid notes, trilled with inimitable rapidity, and wayward changes. No other bird ever excites my laughter; but his imitations are so exact, and so surprise the other birds, that I am often beguiled into a hearty laugh, in my solitary walks. And I have other favourites. The beautiful Red-bird I have never seen elsewhere. It is of a light, taper shape, of the deepest crimson, except a circle of black velvet on each side of the face. The melancholy Whip-poor-will, which begins its monotonous cry at twilight, though its note is not pleasing, has the power of making me listen often for a long time. And even the Buzzard, that foulest of fowls, has such a grace and majesty in his sailing among the clouds, that I almost forgive him his diet and his stench. If you were here in proprid persona, you would be ready to ask what I am doing, and what I am reading, and how I employ myself. I am sure I speak in moderation when I aver to you, that I have not enjoyed two days of uninterrupted study for the last two months. Riding, riding, riding — like a horse in a ferry-boat, an endless round. I am really losing all habits of study; and you may expect to see me coming on some of these days to the Assembly, with my elbows out, feathers in my hair, and the stupid look of a chimney-sweep.

I have been looking over Burke’s works again, and especially his Reflections on the French Revolution. Surely he is the prince of English writers. His description of Mario Antoinette is the most delicious morsel in our language. And then the profundity of his reasoning, the political sagacity of his views, the rich contexture of his language, all render him the most fascinating and commanding of writers on Government. And now let me wind up this overgrown affair, by telling you how sincerely I am thine.

CHARLOTTE, May 13, 1827.

The General Assembly I suppose is now in session. Mr. Maxwell is a member of it, he who attracted so much notice last year by his Bible Society speech. I hope he will make him self heard among you. He is, in my judgment, the very best

1 The late Win. Maxwell, Esq.

orator I know anywhere. I have never heard Tazewell, with whom he maintains a successful competition at the bar. Mr, Maxwell is a man of wealth and influence, and he casts both with great effect into the scale of Christianity. He is, though a native Virginian, the faithful and fearless champion of the oppressed Africans. For a publication of his on this subject, the Norfolk people menaced him with an application of tar and feathers. When he avowed himself the author of the paper, which was published anonymously, his opposers shrunk away before a character so universally revered. He is a bachelor, lives in good style, has an elegant library, is a most agreeable companion, and a finished scholar. I had the pleasure of meeting him recently at Petersburg, and afterwards of accompanying him to Norfolk, and there spending a short time at his house. I am sorry that you did not visit Norfolk. The situation of that town is inferior to that of none in America, as a seaport. The bay and roads afford a roadstead of the safest and most beautiful kind. The town, however, is in a low condition. Richmond has intercepted the trade in the staple commodity, the yellow fever has depopulated it, a recent fire has left it in a state of dilapidation, and the loss of the Colonial trade has almost completed its ruin. They still hope for better times. The Dismal Swamp canal, which is in progress, will open to it all the rivers which fall into Albemarle Sound. It must then become the great cotton market of Virginia and North Carolina, Their navy yard, already extensive, is to be greatly increased. I saw there two seventyfours, a frigate, and a sloop of war. A naval hospital is commenced upon a large scale. It was with feelings of reverence that I passed the ruins of old Jamestown. The remnant of the old church tower is still visible, overgrown with ivy. Large trees are growing within the church walls. There is but one habitable dwelling at the place, and I saw ploughs moving among the tombs. This is certainly the most venerable spot in our country. I thought of Raleigh and Smith, and more than all of the generous Pocahontas. By the by, I have met with many persons who trace their origin to this squaw. Much as I admire my own name, I think that the noble James River should still be called the Powhatan. I have seen its formation in the mountains, its impetuous torrent among the rocks of the Blue Ridge, its turbulent passage among the cliffs above Richmond, its broad majestic flow beyond, and its sublime expansion between the Capes, and at each successive view have felt new admiration at the mighty flood which welcomed the first adventurers of the 17th century.

I have just received a letter from Mr. [Professor] Hodge, who is at the University of Halle. He spent the winter in Paris, and gives a most glowing account of the literary advantages of that city. Sixty or seventy professors lecture gratuitously, and a library of 700,000 volumes is open to every one. At Halle there are professors enough to fill a pamphlet, and about eleven hundred students.

CHARLOTTE COUNTY, June 2, 1827.

I have looked for no book with more avidity of expectation than the life of Napoleon, and I do not join in the lamentation of those who regret that Sir Walter has given so large a share of his labour to the incipient measures of the Revolution. Never has such a spectacle been set before the world, as in the convulsive efforts of the French nation to put an end to tyranny. Never has there been exhibited such a union of physical and intellectual greatness, with the lowest and most debasing passion. The leaders of the Revolution fascinate us into admiration at their energy and daring, while their atrocity fills us wlih contempt and abhorrence. Danton, Mirabeau, Marat, Robespierre, Hebert, Clootz; such were the comets which first astonished, and then consumed the nation. The Liberty whom they adored, would have her emblem in a gigantic goddess, whose brow and glance are fired with the enthusiasm of genius, while the lower visage is that of the brute, the satyr, the fiend.

STATE OF VIRGINIA, COUNTY OP CHARLOTTE,
PARISH OF CORNWALL, July 3, 1827. [

Alack! when shall my ears cease to be molested with endless harangues upon tobacco? I declare it to be the most fertile subject known among men. The glossary of the planters would compose a volume, and their discourse is stark naught without an interpreter. What would you understand by such slang as this 1 “Have you primed your crap, Col. Gouge 1” (Every man is on the army list.) “No, sir, I had to clod in May, and my ‘bacco in the low grounds is fired” “I sent my last crap to Farmville; they made a break, and said it was funked, too lean, and fired too much. It was struck too soon, and was in nice order” “Well, I’ve got through priseing, the weather was so givvy,ihtt the tobacco wras in high order to come and go” &c. What have you been reading? A. I have been reading the 2d No. of the American Quarterly, also Mad. de Stacks French Revolution; a work of great originality and force, yet unjust to Bonaparte, idolatrous to Necker, and full of Anglomanie. No American can read without delight her eulogy of the good La Fayette: also George Buchanan’’ s Latin poems, of which the VOL. i. — 5* great Scaliger said “Buchananus unus est in tota Europa, omnes post so relinqucns in Latina poesi.” His version of the Psalms is probably the most elegant that ever was made in any language. But in his other poems the real character of his mind shines forth. His satire is at once bitter and ludicrous, and in his attacks upon the Franciscans, I discern the boldness of his countryman and acquaintance John Knox, united with Virgilian elegance, and a power of invective all his own. It has been said of the three Roman satirists, “Horatius ridet, Juvenalis verberat, Persius jugulat.” Now, Buchanan does all three in regular succession; he taunts, he scourges, he annihilates. I had no idea of the enormous and unutterable vices attributed to the monks, until I read his poems. As a specimen of the dialect used by the instructor of James I. take the following sentence. A. D. 1570: “Thair is a certane kynd of Beist callil; Chamcelion, engender it in six cowntreis as the Sone lies mair strenth in than in this Ylc of Brettane, the quhilk albeit it be small of corporance, noghtthcless it is of ane strange nature,” etc. He was the friend and correspondent of Roger Ascham, Tycho Brahe, Beza, Grotius, &c. 1 have also read again such of Cicero’s works as I own; greatly longing to possess them all, and in good truth might I tell thee my desire, I would fain have all the Roman writers, so rich arc they in goodly matter, and adorned after so shining a manner with every device of wit and similitude. What is called the Reg en? s edition would suit me very well. I have also read some of the works of Rapin, Pascal, De la Houssaye, in French; of Owen, Baxter and Boston, Bates and Cecil, in English; Mastricht, Mark, Witsius, in modern Latin, and Calvin, Dwight, and McDowell, in modern English. Item, Peter’s Letters, [by Lockhart,] and a course of Mathematics. Ques. 2. What have you written? 1. Letters. 2. A few pieces for Rice’s Magazine,1 signed Atlanticus, Quis, M. R n, and one anonymous intituled “The Minister of Christ.” I have not written a single sermon since I have been in Charlotte, though I have composed more than a hundred. Qucs. 3. How do you spend your time? Here is my plan for days which I spend at home, not always adhered to. Rise at 4; shower-bath; dress; shave; a walk or exercise in the garden; family prayers at 6; break fast £ before 7; read Scriptures; a lesson in Hebrew; Greek Testament in course with commentaries; Old Testament writh commentaries; cursory reading of Greek Testament; English Bible; preparation for sermons; theology; German; 1 have luncheon at 11, dinner at 2|; after dinner I expatiate, read

1 “The Virginia Literary and Evangelical Magazine,” edited by the Rev. Dr. John II. Rice, from 1817 to 1829.

every thing, ride, walk, lie on the grass, &c.; tea at 7; family worship at 8; bed at 0.

On June 16th we had a visit from Mr. Tucker, Professor of Moral Philosophy, &c., in the University of Virginia. He is a native of Bermuda, and has been on a visit to a brother who lives at Charlotte Court House. They have at the university some 170 students. Blatter man’s school is most frequented. Poor old Williamsburg has about 15 students; Hampden Sydney about 80, and Washington college about 40. I take a lively interest in the improvements of our country, notwithstanding my being hemmed in with political heretics.

“Faithful among the faithless only found.”

Milton (asidey.

I take no trouble to conceal my sentiments, although I enter into no disputes. Although I hear incessant eulogies of General Jackson, yet I am utterly at a loss to discover among the wagon-loads of chaff which they pour forth about him, one grain of real qualification for the Presidency. The temperature is canicular, tropical. I remember not any suffering from heat so great as I now experience. The direct rays of the sun are far more oppressive than any thing I have felt in the Middle States, or even on the other side of the Blue Ridge. Accept my congratulations upon your entrance into the practical arena of litigation. May you prove false the assertion of Burke, who while he acknowledges that legal science strengthens the mind, says, “but it is not apt, except in persons very happily born, to liberalize the mind exactly in the same proportion.” Or rather, will I say may you prove that you are one thus happily born.

CHARLOTTE COURT HOUSE, August 25, 182Y.

I have only strength enough to write a mere note. My mind and body are racked with the lingering distresses of a bilious fever, shorter (as yet) but more violent in its immediate symptoms, than that of last summer. Through the mercy of God, I am spared again (I hope) to praise him more sincerely, and serve him more faithfully. Death has been viewed by me as a precious entrance into eternal bliss. My dear and early friend, I have only strength enough to say, devote your heart, your life, your all to the blessed Jesus.

The physician thinks me altogether free from disease, nothing now but resuscitation is needed. I think I am well, unless imprudence bring on a relapse.

29fA, Tuesday.

Very much improved. Fever gone, and only weakness and irritation of bowels remaining. An inundation almost unexampled has just swept away half the river crops of tobacco. Some $50,000 loss to our planters.

I shall, Deo volente, write soon again. You may say confidently that I am better.

PRINCETON, March 19, 1828.

The 6th No. of the Philadelphia Monthly [Magazine] reached us yesterday. It frowned such dullness upon the title-page that I did not dare to read it. Me judice, these general discursive essays about science and literature are insufferable. Why do not some of you pounce down upon some of the elegancies of either department, and afford some leaven to the stupid mass 1 But hold, I am incompetent to judge, and far too splenetic to censure with candour. Pray inform me how you and the practice agree. Does the magnificence and awful grandeur of the divine science of law, as developed and exhibited within the walls of your courts, stupefy you with amazement? Or have you wrought yourself into the belief that a cross-examination is the purest occasion of attic wit, and a feverish court room the arena for eloquence 1 Alack! The world looks barren to me. I am unable to face its calculating and censorious actors. I am too inert to be useful: too greedy of knowledge to digest any for use. Unworthy of the holy calling which has separated me nominally from the world. I have too much of worldly attachment to be bold and decided in my Master’s cause. I am such a one as needs a task master through life: left to myself I am a mere butterfly, sipping at every flower. Divine mercy has again and again spared me; and I still wonder for what end, so useless do I appear to myself.

PRINCETON, April 4, 1828.

It is a pleasant thing to me to look back and see how long and uninterrupted has been the correspondence instituted between us in boyhood; and equally delightful to have a friend with whom I can make a happy and welcome exchange of many thoughts which burden the mind when retained, and which can not be revealed to all the world. I count upon your known forbearance when I undertake another letter in my present exile from the busy world. These old scenes encourage no inquiry: they reward it not when made. Were I able to walk through our dull street, I should see a few well-known faces which predict a total barrenness of all intelligence, a few college lads, newly initiated into the mysteries of academic strut and arro-

1 After this apparent recovery a relapse took place in the latter part of September; but he was able to reach Princeton on the Oth October, and there he passed several months under a severe continuance of the same disease.

gancc, .and a few dames whose catechetical and commiserating visages hold out no sign of enjoyment to one, who lor six months has endured the visitation of “How do you feel? Pain in your side? Pale! Bloated! Put out your tongue. La! how moping,” &c., &c. Were I to corner myself with some of the old ladies, I might indeed learn some of the antiquities, as that Gen. Washington had his hair clubbed at the battle of Princeton, &c., &c.

The news of Princeton is as follows: A mineral spring has been discovered; that is, as in similar cases, a hole in the mud has been discovered which possesses rather more nastincss than the common water, which tastes like a gunwashing, like a black smith’s tub, like a what not. I have no fondness for these ter rene slops; it will afford many walks, however, for the boys and girls.

I have read “Sketches of Persia,” and have been much amused, but Morier’s several works on that interesting country are incomparably more entertaining and instructive. I long to read Bishop Heber’s books. [Travels in India.] Of American literature, I observe nothing which attracts me. We certainly have no poet, and I tremble for fear that W. Irving has not made Horace’s inquiry as to his Life of Columbus “Quid ferre recuscnt, quid valeant humcri.” Dr. Miller is writing a book upon ruling Elders, in opposition I suppose to Dr. Wilson, who has been publishing for several years on the same subject in the Christian Spectator of New Haven.

We hear occasionally from Mr. Hodge, who is at Berlin. He talks of the low state of religion, and the abounding prevalence of fantastic systems of metaphysics. I long to visit Europe, but have no prospect of ever going thither. It is a boyish wish, which perhaps will die away if I should ever have a family.

Addison has just completed the Koran in Arabic, [he completed his nineteenth year this month,] a work which few have attempted in America. He has added Spanish and Italian to his list of languages.

I should relish highly a visit to Philadelphia: but my coat of rusticity has now as many folds as the shield of Ajax. I am surprised to find upon enumeration how few actual acquaintances I have in your city. Still there is no place where I would rather live, while I know my utter incompetency to fulfil the duties of a city pastor. It is my happiness as a sou to see my dear parents, and their family enjoying health and happiness. These are favours which demand new recognitions of God’s holy andbeneficent care. May you also long enjoy such blessings, with the richer satisfaction of pure confidence in our blessed Redeemer.

PRINCETON, May 6, 1828.

After taking so sudden a departure from the hospitalities of Philadelphia, it seems right that I should hasten to make reply to your last letter; and have only to complain that the mail is about to depart, leaving me but short space to frame an epistle. To-morrow I expect to go to New York, in company with Mr. Kirk, and thence probably to New Haven and Boston. The country is as lovely as the sweet and genial breath of spring can make it. From the window where I sit, I look upon fields covered with a rich and sudden verdure, and upon orchards in their fullest bloom. Something, however, has so chilled my nature, that I have none of those delightful emotions which I used to experience, when I carried Thomson’s Seasons on my long walks, and found a pastoral scene in every grove.

PRINCETON, July 18, 1828.

In consequence of delay in answering your last letter, I found myself cut off from the opportunity of doing it at all, as I was afraid to direct to Petersburg, lest you should have left that place, and as you did not communicate to me the intended length of your visit. Like yourself I anr about to excurse, but in a different direction, and set out to-morrow for Long Branch. My situation is superlatively ennuyante. Without a charge, without regular labour, or the stimulus of definite prospects, I suffer much from the increase of indolent and melancholy musings. As soon as summer is fairly over, I expect to revisit Virginia, with the view of winding up my concerns there, and then looking around me for some situation suitable to my talents and inclinations. It gives me pain to look about me, and see how little there is which could interest you in the repetition. Princeton knows few changes, except changes of weather and of servants. Mr. Gibson is building a house and a barn; Mr. Voorhecs, a store; Mr. Joline’s Cato has come back; we have got a new cow. These are the principal articles of news. In politics there is a slight change among some of the old Federalists, whose eyes are opened to see the treachery of John Q. A., and who are endeavouring to make his preference of the Democrats, and his old renunciation of Federalism, a ground for their changing sides, and espousing the cause of Jackson. This attempt to revive ancient feuds is too late, and the influence of such men as Jos. Hopkinson, &c., will weigh with the Federalists of New Jersey. The cause of Mr. Adams is sustained, as I fully believe, by the great mass of enlightened and sober men. As for myself, I

1 The trip extended to Andover, Albany, and the Catskill Mountains.

1827 — 1829. Ill

admire the man for that simple dignity which has marked all his proceedings. How pitiful are the Southern recalcitrations against the tariff! They remind one of the pet of a child who will not eat his dinner, because he is forbidden the use of certain articles. I have only just finished Scott’s Life of Napoleon. It is a fine histdry, but evidently a most hurried production. I admire the candour of Sir Walter, who, as an Englishman and a Tory, might have been expected to have great prejudices against Napoleon. I have also read the “Fair Maid of Perth.” The court scenes, and the Highland part of the story, I think very dull, but Henry Gow and his neighbours are equal to any thing he has yet written. Especially after those pitiful stories in the first of the Canongates, we have reason to be agreeably disappointed. Have just finished Pollok’s Course of Time. Without making him equal to Milton, as some of the English reviewers have done, I admire his work exceedingly. There is much grandeur of thought, great simplicity of language, and at times the discovery of a satiric vein, which place the author in a high rank among contemporary poets.

I have sent a piece to Littell for his projected “Remember me,” [an “Annual” :] it is hard to say whether I should be most mortified by seeing it in print, or by having it rejected. It is a sort of Tale: scene, Athens: date about A. D. 100-112.

Addison has finished Ariosto, and is now at Boccacio. He has read about half of Corneille, which I have also read. In Spanish, Addison began with Don Quixote and has read it over and over.

PRINCETON, August 28, 1828.

The peregrinations in which we have both been engaged, have made sad infractions upon the ordinary regularity of our correspondence. This I the rather regret, as you are at present my only regular correspondent. I am obliged to you for your letter from Utica, and I should have answered it, had I not supposed that your journey would have been more rapid than it has proved. You will have heard that I have visited your city since you last saw me. My pleasure was greatly abridged in consequence of your absence, as I was without a Cicerone, and involved in a very different sphere from the agreeable little circle of friends with whom I commonly hold intercourse in Philadelphia. My time at present hangs rather heavily upon my hands. Being in that amphibious state between actual labour and total idleness, without a settlement, and yet subject to the constant demands of persons who need preaching, I feel myself very much impaired in mind and spirits. Surely I am losing all that romantic sentimentalism which used to sweeten even rny ordinary walks, and create a fairy world in moments of idleness. In the month of October I expect to revisit Virginia, to close my connexion with an affectionate and beloved people, and shall, with leave of Providence, return about the first of the year, with the hope of finding a resting place nearer home. I already feel that it is deeply injurious to a young man to be so long in forming permanent connexions. The habits acquired in this changeable sort of life are peculiarly adverse to mental improvement and maturity of character. 1 have read nothing very interesting of late. Vivian Grey is an amusing, but most incoherent and extravagant book. If his pictures of Germany are correct, it is certainly the most crazy country upon the globe. The German language has been an object of rny attention, at intervals, for some time. I am still very far from being able to read it with any comfort: yet I am encouraged by the report of its rich literary stores to persevere in my application to it. As to politics, the Jackson men around us are nearly frantic. Meeting upon meeting, where the demagogues disgorge the crambe recocta of “Coalition, Tergiversation,” &c. The attempt to draw off the Federalists from the Administration has had some effect: yet my hopes are still strong that Adams will be re-elected.

A new society connected with the college has been formed, called the Philological Society, to which Prof. Patton has given the use of his choice and extensive Library. We heard to-day from Mr. Hodge — date -28th July, London. He expected to sail on the first of August, so that we expect him almost daily. He has transmitted a large collection of books for the Seminary, principally works in German upon Theology and Criticism. The heat and the drought take away all the vigour of my system, and have influenced this letter by their terrifying powers. Excuse my dullness, if you cannot sympathize with it, and believe me, as heretofore — Thine.

PRINCETON, October 4, 1828.

As to my future course in life, I am able to speak only negatively; I shall never seek a settlement south of the Potomac unless driven to it by necessity. As to Trenton, the place has no charms for me; yet in my present circumstances I must do something, and the unanimity and cordiality of the call to that place, in the absence of all other “openings,” cause me to look with some favour upon the situation. It would be no small satisfaction to me to be placed within a few hours’ sail of Philadelphia, and I might expect to be a more frequent visitor to your city. I am weary of the sickly sympathy manifested for that miscreant Shelley. Surely the just indignation of the public towards a hireling Atheist and seducer, deserves a better name than persecution. His unintelligible poems can never reacem a character such as his. I am glad to see some signs of an interest in German literature, manifested in the article [in Philadelphia Magazine] on Schiller; I should be still more pleased to meet with some of his works. I have recently read some of them with great satisfaction. The other members of the Weimar quaternion would be fit subjects for as many articles, viz.: Goethe, Herder, and Wieland. The articles which appear from time to time in the American Quarterly upon German literature, certainly manifest a familiarity with the subject; but they are too vague and superficial. Instead of being reviews of the celebrated works, or sketches of character, they are such loose table talk upon the subject in general, as might be taken down in short hand from the conversation of any German scholar.

I have just read the whole of Moliere’s Comedies. Those which are in prose would all be considered farces among us. They are certainly as amusing as any thing I have ever read. My reading at present is principally theological, which, though interesting to me, does not afford the same subjects for conversation or correspondence as some lighter studies. I have been toiling through some recent specimens of German Infidelity, which Mr. Hodge has brought over, and am also reading a more evangelical work, Neander’s Ecclesiastical History.

1 suppose Archibald in the plenitude of his Jacksonianism has informed you that Princeton is ornamented with a Hickory pole, in the most conspicuous part of the village. It is strange to see with what phrenetic zeal the Hickories are traversing all the country. Invasion or civil war could scarcely produce a greater fermentation among the populace. My fear is that New Jersey will give her vote for the Chieftain; and indeed, further, that he will be our President. Among the novelties of New Jersey there is an attempt to institute a school, in which some hours of every day are to be spent in agriculture, or other manual labour. This is somewhat upon the plan of Fellenbergh, and seems to be well adapted to the wants of our country. The principal agent in this scheme is Mr. Monteith, late Professor of Languages in Hamilton College. We have had a rumour here that a Brazilian squadron had been in Long Island Sound apparently with hostile intent, and that the Hudson and other vessels were despatched upon this business; but as the papers contain nothing on the subject, it is probably a false report. I have tried to respect the South American Governments, but in vain. Their bravery is a sort of animal courage, and their independence mere lawlessness. Greece seems destined to be divided among the beasts of prey which have been so long sitting in judgment upon her fate. But you are not likely to feel great interest in my political speculations. I have been reading Milton’s prose works with great delight, and I specially recommend to you his speech for unlicensed printing, if you have never read it. My time passes on in a very dull manner. I have had to preach every Sunday, without stimulus enough to lead me to the preparation which is my duty. 1 rise about seven, and spend most of my time in studying German; walk a little in the woods, and along the brooks, visit none, and have no company, no correspondent except yourself. My health is generally pretty good, and I have as yet escaped the bilious attack which I have had some reason to dread.

RETIREMENT, CHARLOTTE Co., YA., November 16, 1828. What I shall ever find to fill this portentous sheet, is yet to be determined, and I hope you will judge of its merits by measurement, and send me an equivalent. On my return to Virginia, I found the whole population in a ferment upon the subject of the Presidential election. Jackson is carrying it with a high hand, and there seems little doubt among the politicians here as to his election. Mr. Randolph attended the assemblage here, dressed in a coat of Virginia homespun, and leather breeches, whipped his servant in the public court-yard, and uttered some oracular predictions. It was the 5th of November, and he said, “This is the anniversary of the gunpowder plot, and I hope we are doing that which will blow the ’ school-master ’ sky-high.” The pecuniary embarrassments are very great in this region, — five failures within a few months in this county. A rise in some articles, as wheat and whisky, promises something for the valley and the mountains. There is no longer any doubt that a convention will be called in Virginia, which will establish universal suffrage, and probably remove the seat of government to Staunton or Charlottesville. My sentimental journey to Virginia might interest you, if I had not given you the same details more than once before. I found some agreeable young ladies on board the Norfolk boat, who had spent some time in Scotland, and was introduced to a sensible young Englishman, who gave me much entertainment and information. The dirty, gloomy, ugly town of Petersburg presents the same appearance as it did three years ago, when I entered it for the first time. I now perceived that I was in Virginia by the gangs of negroes, some with burdens on their heads, others driving wagons of cotton and tobacco, women arrayed in men’s hats, and children with scarcely any raiment at all. I preached five times in Petersburg, and came “up the country,” by the mail route, in company with Mrs.

Taylor of Petersburg, sister of Judge Marshall, a lady of genius and information. I expect never to see so many persons so rejoiced to meet with me, as appeared at the little church last Sunday. It is painful indeed to leave friends so cordial arid sincere, but I believe I am pursuing the path of duty. I enjoy here a delightful retreat from the world, and suitable opportunities for study, if I had such books as I desire. For my solitary walks, 1 have a boundless range, affording many varieties of rural prospect, and I indulge myself in many woodland rambles. In such a retirement, however, I feel the need of some extrinsic excitement which might urge to continued exertion: the total absence of this, and the stagnation of mind consequent upon this want, convince me that I shall not lose by going forward a few steps nearer to the busy world. I hope to be able to indulge my writing propensities, as I shall be nearer to the vehicles of thought and literature, and may perhaps stumble upon some department of knowledge, in which I may be useful. If I can sufficiently lash up my indolent powers, 1 will prepare a review for Walsh, and if the Monthly still survives, perhaps communicate some morceaux to its columns. If you have any pamphlets or papers of any sort, pray send them hitherward, where there is a perfect destitution of such provender. Saxe Weimar’s travels proved dull enough. It is plain that a man may be a duke and yet have very little nobility in his thoughts: he is too much like Miss Wright, — not a spark of genius or life, nor even amusing German mysticism. I am very sure I could make more reputable travels in Germany, and would actually do it, if his Highness or anybody else would pay my bills. The “Remember Me” will have been quite obsolete before I get a glance at my famous production. In case the man gives any quid pro quo, I shall try my luck for another number. Having been lately engaged in reading a Life of Erasmus, it has struck me that I might spend some months profitably upon the biography of some eminent man, but cannot make any selection from the rolls of fame. Melancthon, Sir Walter Raleigh, and Grotius have danced before my imagination without leading me to any decision. I have also projected a translation of Milton’s Latin Correspondence, which has never yet appeared in an English dress. I have in readiness for the Christian Advocate a small essay upon “Christian Old Age,” 2 The noted Mr. Nettleton spent most of the last summer in an adjoining county, (Prince Edward,) and

1 This last project was taken up by his correspondent, and the translation was published by Mr. Littell, in April, 1829.

2 Printed in the April number of 1829. In the August number he gave a “Sketch of the Life of Cyprian.”

was made the instrument of a wonderful reformation. Multitudes of irreligious persons have been brought into the church, and among the rest some of the most respectable professional men in this region of country. In the church next to mine, 118 have professed religion during the last few months. This revival still continues, and is extending itself in the counties of Lunenburg, Cumberland, and Buckingham. The Theological Seminary at llampdcn Sidney is about to have a new professor [Biblical Literature] in Mr. Goodrich, who was educated at Princeton, and who has been acting as teacher for a year or two in Prince Edward. They have about 120 students in the University [of Virginia.] Dr. [R. M.] Patterson [of Philadelphia] was ‘received with much cordiality [as Professor.] 1 have just heard of the death of Noel Robertson, a young preacher who was with me in the Seminary. He left North Carolina for the sake of his health, but has been cut off when he supposed that he had found a salubrious climate. How affecting a monition to myself! I see clearly that those men are the happiest who are most entirely devoted to a religious life, and who not only profess religion as I do, but exemplify it in their daily conduct.

CHARLOTTE, December 9, 1828.

Since I wrote I remember that Butler has published a life of Grotitis, and just now I am so taken up with preaching and visits T.T.L., that I can scarcely find time to put pen to paper. If spared to reach Trenton, I may hope to have most of my mornings in my study, and this will be to me a sort of Paradise. When I preach in the week, it steals away a whole day, and a single visit is sometimes nearly as bad. Most cheerfully will I relinquish to you the Latin Letters of Milton; I feel almost cer tain that they have never been translated, and you will find it, I think, a pleasant and a popular enterprise. They are certainly difficult, and often obscure from the frequency of recondite classical allusions, but it is the same obscurity which pervades all his compositions. Of the history of his correspondents, I fear little can be known. From the various biographical dictionaries within your reach, and from attentive perusals of his memoirs and the history of his times, something may be gleaned. I take higher ground in favour of translations than you seem willing to assume. Good translators are among the greatest benefactors of the age. The great Moshcim gave the impulse to German literature, by translating the Essayists of England, and the immense work of Cudworth; arid if I live to learn German, 1 intend to set about the business in good sober earnest. We may translate works truly great, useful, and popular; we can write originally little above mediocrity. Wieland and Schlcgel have both translated Shakspcare; Bishop Marsh has translated Michaelis, and a great work of Eichhorn remains unknown to most; of us because no one has been bold enough to turn it into English. I had just been reading [Rev. John] Newton when your letter came, and was pleased to find your opinion coincident with my own. The constant correspondent of Cowper could not be an ordinary man. His letters, though numerous, I think his best productions. If you wish to be delighted, get Hayley’s Edition of all Cowper’s Letters in five or six 8vo vols.: probably in your library. I have been reading the original Letters of Abelard and Heloise, which have set the characters of these great and unfortunate people in a better light than Pope’s amor ous and fiery epistles. I am indeed strongly tempted to think

that the poor became a true penitent. If you wish to

read a beautiful, lucid, and unanswerable piece of reasoning, read Paley’s Horse Paulinse. In the October number of the Biblical Repertory, you may see a translation of mine from Rosenmuller. Mr. Hodge has applied to me to review the life of Erasmus, which he put into my hands, for his work, [April, 1829.] This will prevent my undertaking it for the Am. Quarterly. Yesterday I saw a family of blacks who were suing for their freedom in the superior court of this county. It was delightful to see the joy and exultation of the poor creatures when they succeeded. They seemed to think that nothing now remained for them but to eat, drink, and do nothing for the remnant of their davs. I have been reading Miss Hannah More’s works. There is an unaccountable prejudice against that good and useful woman. I esteem her to be the best of female writers, and had she written on a subject more consonant with popular taste, than those she has chosen, I have no doubt she would have attained as great celebrity as Madame de Stael. The latter is truly great, but the evident straining after point so common to French writers is peculiarly displeasing in her works. Mrs. More’s best work in my judgment is her “Hints towards Forming the Character of a Young Princess;” a book which convinces me that she was well qualified to treat that difficult and interesting science, — the philosophy and ethics of history. I must confess that she is sometimes deficient in vivacity, and always in brilliancy, but her thoughts are always reasonable and profound, and her aim tow ards practical good. The question Cm bono? is one appropriate to all our literary toils. Especially in composition I think it should be more my endeavour than it has heretofore been, to do something which may be profitable. The thought of benefiting our contemporaries is one which ought to excite the most sacred ambition, if such an expression may be tolerated. “For what am I living ]” ought indeed to open our eyes to those practical duties which arise out of our social relations. This is undoubtedly very new to you, and perfectly original. I venture the thought because it has recently dwelt much upon my own mind. The die is indeed cast, and Adams must trudge. I am determined now to suspend my judgment, until I can see what measures the General will introduce. Can you guess who will form the cabinet 1 I have thought of Van Buren, Benton, Hayne, and McLean. I hope to be able to look in for a short time upon the great people at Washington. Perhaps you may desire a trip about the same time, and meet me there. I cannot tell you how much I admire your city life. If, for instance, I had the command of the “Library” which you have, I should think it worth $500 a year. No subject and scarcely a book to which you may not have immediate access. But my duty as well as interest is to learn contentment with the exact situation in which I am likely to be placed. To be near you, so as to correspond not by letter merely, but by personal interview, will be a peculiar pleasure. I am young, but the friends of my childhood are strangely scattered. With the exception of Kirk, you are the only one that adheres. Our friendship has been made more secure in my opinion by its eminent sobriety; it has been free from romance and sentimentality. I know that you would be much overpowered if on meeting you I should give you an embrace, and tell you how greatly I loved you: yet such is the friendship of many. Some have thus caressed me, who do not at this moment care one straw for me, or my interests. I rejoice in any thing which promises your return to your Latin classics: though you have probably become rusty, yet you may be assured that six months occasional reading will renew your ability to read them with pleasure. Try

the experiment with Cicero’s Offices, and I ensure you that you will find the task a delightful one. W’hat I have learned of Latin has been preserved not by classical reading, but the perusal of Latin works on Theology. The classics are more in your line than mine, and I hope you will pursue the study. Strange as the idea may at first appear, I believe that a series of essays upon some of the less familiar classics, as Seneca, Lucan, Plautus, or Pliny, would be a work quite new and interesting to the Scavans of our country. Let your ink take some such channel. I expect to leave Charlotte upon the 17th inst.

1 He preached his farewell sermon at the Charlotte church, December 28, from John xvi. 23.