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take a parting glass together at least. Byles accepted the invitation, and waited on the captain, who, while they were all making merry, set sail, having given secret in structions to that amount, previous to the arrival of the parson, and they were a considerable distance from land before Byles discovered the cheat. He making a virtue of necessity passed it off in good humor, and no chaplain being aboard, he was forced to act. But when they came to examine, no psalm book could be found. The captain being a man of humor, and withal clothed with a little power, proposed to Byles, of whose poetic talents he was apprised, to compose a psalm for the occasion. Byles submitted with a good grace, and composed a psalm peculiar to himself and to the occasion. I have seen the psalm; it contains some of the finest strokes of wit and humour to be found. But Mr. Green, of Boston, who possessed more good nature, and an equal share of wit with Byles, paraphrased the psalm. This called up a spirited answer from Byles: which was again replied to by Green; and thus they continued to write poetry against each other to the great amusement of the citizens. Riding in the country one day, he saw a man making a rail fence some distance from the road, he turned out of his way to address him with "will you never leave off railing, can't you live without a fence."
Whilst speaking of literary characters, I cannot help adding a brief notice of Miss Hannah Adams, the glory of New-England females. She is the authoress of seve ral valuable works, which have long been before the public, viz. "The History of the Jews," "The History of New England," and "Letters on the Gospel." These works are said to be ably written, and bespeak her a woman of piety and learning. I have seen these works since my visit to New-England, but being unqualified to judge of their merit, I speak of their general character. Miss Adams lives in Boston. She is about seventy years of age, of low stature, and slightly inclined to corpulency: she is declining in health, though very cheerful, and walks a good deal in fine weather: her hair is per fectly white, her complexion is fair, her face round, her features regular and very delicate, her eyes a dark hazel,
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(what may be called black,) very small, but soft and intelligent; her teeth are decayed, and disfigure her very much; she lisps in speaking, but has a sweet melodious voice. Her countenance is animated, and the most pleasing I ever witnessed in a person of her age, her face being constantly lighted up with a smile. But the
leading trait in her countenance is innocence; the infant at the breast is not more so. Her manners are easy and natural, without one spark of pride or affectation: in short, she possesses a dignified simplicity, with a great share of good nature, which is visible in her whole deportment. I was often in her company, and found her uniformly the same. She informed me that she was upwards of three years in compiling her Jewish History, and that at one time she must have had as many books before her, as would have filled the room we were in. She is a distant relation to the president of the United States. Mrs. Morton, lady of the Lieut. Governor, is also a distinguished writer.
It has already been observed, that the human mind has been thoroughly developed in Boston. This city has made bold advances in the fine arts, in belles-lettres, and in mathematics, philosophy, poetry, theology, and in law, Boston also holds the first rank in our cities. Among the most eminent of her citizens for learning and high literary attainments, may be esteemed the present editor of the North-American Review, the Rev. Jared Sparks, late pastor of the Unitarian congregation in Baltimore. Mr. S. is about 30 years of age, he may be something over-rather above the common height, neither spare nor robust, and well formed. His complexion is wan, his hair is deep black, his eyes a dark gray, full, calm, and steady. His face is round and features regular. His countenance is contemplative, serene, and as meek as Moses: so gentle, so spotless, he is the admiration of all who know him. As a scholar, and a gentleman, he may possibly have an equal, but in diffidence, charity, and benevolence, he stands alone.
There are many literary men in Boston, of whom I only saw one more, the Rev. Mr. Pierpont: he is said to be a writer of some eminence, both in poetry and
prose. He is an amiable man, of good stature, and elegant manners. The poet Percival lives in the city, but I had not the good fortune to see him.
The citizens of Boston are at present engaged in making great improvements in the city. They are reclaiming the land from the water, and have succeeded to an astonishing degree, having realized about 70 acres of made land where the mill-pond formerly flowed. They are likewise pulling down houses, widening the streets, and erecting large and durable buildings. The town is chiefly built of brick, though there are many elegant free-stone buildings, which, for beauty and size, excel any private buildings in the United States. These stand mostly on Mount Vernon, Beacon-street, and the Colonade. The buildings in the Colonade are truly magnificent, having a colonade running in front of them, the whole length of the street; these are not only large, but the workmanship surpasses any thing of the sort and here we have not only marble fronts but mar ble houses. D. Sears, Esq. lives in one of these, which for beauty and splendor, sets description at defiance, and is only exceeded by its princely owner. The Appletons are likewise with Mr. S. in Beacon-street, and like him live in princely style. But the exterior of the houses is nothing compared with the costly furniture within them; plate, China ware, mahogany, the finest cut glass, and rich carpeting, are paltry things with them; their hous es are adorned with nymphs, Naiads, shepherds, cupids and goddesses, of the finest alabaster; portraits, the finest paintings, and the choicest books, settees and chairs: damask curtains, of the richest fashion; every room is filled with the "softly speaking marble;" these beautiful images meet you wherever you turn: they are standing in niches on the stair-cases and up-stairs, as well as below. The marble assuming every shape and every grace: here you see a nymph stretched on a couch, there a Naiad standing with a gilded cup in her hand, and a third in the act of dancing. I was particularly struck with a bowl, upon the edge of which sat two of the sweetest looking doves; one was in the act of drinking out of the bowl, the other had its head turned, look
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ing behind it; the whole of unequalled polish, and rivalling the snow in whiteness. Another interesting object was a female figure sleeping upon the skin of a lion. The skin of the head, with the rough mane, the eyes, and even the eye-lash, was nature itself. Another object of interest was a model of the temple of Neptune, which is in a mouldering state, great part of it having tumbled down; those parts were substituted with pieces of cork, and the whole enveloped with moss. The main frame of the edifice was nothing but a low, square frame, open at the top, the whole representing every vestige of a structure in ruins.
In Boston I was also gratified by seeing a portrait of the renowned Walter Scott, but it was by no means striking; if the likeness was a true one, there is no truth in countenance, as his was the most vacant imaginable, without one spark of genius perceptible. It could not be his, being distinguished by nothing but a simple blue eye and a most unmeaning smile.
One might spend a year amongst these people, and still find something new. Many of the ladies have visited France and Italy, from which they have culled the choicest specimens of the fine arts, particularly from the latter. Garlands, flowers, fruit, in the finest alabaster, embodying every grace of form and ingenuity, to a degree beyond the power of the most luxuriant fancy to conceive. New-York certainly does more business, but for men of solid wealth, refinement and taste, Boston is the nonpareil.
Whilst on my visit to Alexandria, I happened in company with a travelling lady, and speaking of the Atlantic cities, she observed, that "if she was compelled to live in the United States, (being a foreigner,) she would give Boston the preference, on account of the taste and refinement, and above all, the hospitality of the citizens." This shook my prejudice a little, but still I had no intention of visiting Boston, until I went to Albany, where the account of the lady was confirmed, to my satisfaction; 'therefore resolved to see Boston. On my way thither I fell in with two of the citizens, whose manners and con-: versation effectually dislodged the prejudice I had imbib
ed from infancy, against this city, that it was inhabited by a sour, bigoted, priest-ridden race noted for nothing but psalm-singing, and hanging witches and Quakers. I was more favorably disposed to New-York, but in Philadelphia I centred every virtue! See the wretched effects of prejudice.-In Philadelphia the people scarcely invited me to sit down; but in Boston, I have been caressed, and loaded with favors, though a total stranger to them, without even an introduction. One grain of reflection might have removed this prejudice; for it is impossible that illiberality and science should exist in the same place; but so ignorant was I of the resources of my country, that I was unapprised of the great advantages which its citizens possess, over that of any city in the Union.
Boston, however, has been losing ground in commerce, for a few years back; and its merchants are vesting their capital in manufacturing establishments, upon the most extensive and comprehensive scale. They have several grand manufactories of glass, cotton, dying and calico printing, in which vast sums are vested. The Chelmsford factory, near Boston, belongs to a number of wealthy merchants, amounting to a capital of $100,000. Only a part of the plan has arrived to effect: it is confined wholly to the weaving and printing of calico, which for texture, brilliancy, and durability of tints, are equal to any imported; in texture it is superior. About 175 pieces are finished per day, but this quantity will be doubled in the course of another year. The Waltham factory is in complete operation; it also belongs to a company of merchants, and is confined to the manufac turing of cotton shirting and sheeting. This factory was established in 1814: the capital stock is $600,000. It employs 400 persons, chiefly females; has in operation 7800 spindles, 240 looms, and makes about 1,700,000 yards annually. The whole of the machinery is performed by water! The cotton is carded, roped, spun, warped, sized, beamed, and wove by water power. The looms are entirely of iron, and make such a noise when they are in fall operation, that it is with great difficulty you can make yourself heard. This is a most, astonish
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