[Poems by Hopkins in] The Echo :: :: University of Virginia Library

The text of this Echo was a publication under the signature of “Mirabeau,” which appeared in one of the Philadelphia papers in the spring of 1793. This was a virulent attack on the Federal Printers in the Eastern States, particularly those of Hartford, and contained many illiberal general reflections. The Echo itself was nearly completed when some circumstances induced the authors to lay it aside, and it was never after resumed. At specimens of the manner in which it was written the following passages are given; the first being an Echo of the writer's attack on New-England, and the second the portrait of a conspicuous public character in our national councils.

Well may the name of sycophant agree
With all opposed in sentiment to me;
And chief New-England's sons deserve that name,
Those foes of primal right and native claim,
Who think that sober government should bind
In vile restraint the passions of mankind,
And that e'en legal justice has a claim
On those inspired with Freedom's holy flame.

But ne'er in Pennsylvania's unkind soil
Will those rank weeds reward the planter's toil,
But fix'd in Hartford, with attentive care
Rear'd in her hot-bed, nurtured by her air,
With rapid growth their towering heads shall rise,
Above the dwarfish plants of southern skies,
And in wide-spreading majesty expand
A grateful shade o'er each congenial land:
While Hartford Courant, like a pedlar's cart,
Shall lug their goodly fruits to every part.
Hartford! curst corner of the spacious earth!
Where each dire mischief ripens into birth,
Whence dark cabals against our statesmen rise
And spread a black'ning cloud o'er eastern skies:
Whose impious sons, by decency unsway'd,
Nor check'd by prudence, nor by fear dismay'd,
Each solemn thing have turn'd to constant jest,
From John Monier to Boston's civic feast,
From Pokahontas' breed, prime lords of all,
To Hancock glorious at his Negro ball:
For still proud Echo wakes the tuneful strain,
And --- pun and C****** prints in vain.
Hartford detested more by faction's race
Than harden'd sinner hates the call of grace,
Not more the owl abhors meridian light,
Not more the generous steed the camel's sight,
Not more the skulking thief the fatal tree,
Than Faction's brood abhor thy sons and thee!

See where in black yon champion takes his stand,
The firm file-leader of the daring band!
His early youth with fairest prospect shone,
Exulting Genius claim'd him as her own,
With rapid step through learning's realms he ran,
And Science gazed delighted at the man:
Awhile with seeming zeal inspired he stood,
And preach'd the Gospels of the Son of God;
Bade round his native land the trumpet blow,
Swell'd with the clangor of eternal woe;
'Till sacred peace her olive wand display'd,
Removed Columbia's foes and spoil'd his trade:
Then dropp'd the veil, the pious mask he drew,
His real character shone forth to view,
Self stood confess'd, through every varying plan,
The sole unchanging object of the man.