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NO. 3. Richard ---, Esq. at Washington to his Friend, Edward ---, in Charleston.
At length dear Chum as was agreed on,
Again I take the pen in hand,
And whilst my roving senses lead on,
Why—I shall write as they command.
A week has fled, since my last letter,
Descriptive of my own affairs,
Of which I'm certain none talks better,
When undisturbed by selfish cares:
Dispatch'd by mail, I sent in haste,
Frank'd too by—who you know,
Is much inclined to think my taste
Perception, judgment, equal to—
And I, of course will not demur,
So willingly agree to all,
His own good judgment will prefer,
To say about my upper Hall.
There's nothing here, that I can see,
A tight ribb'd dandy to amuse—
And but for name, I'd rather be
At home amid'st our native blues;
Than sit and mope while day-light lasts,
Upon the sun's superior heat,
Then go and join in rich repasts,
Without an appetite to eat.
Again I take the pen in hand,
And whilst my roving senses lead on,
Why—I shall write as they command.
A week has fled, since my last letter,
Descriptive of my own affairs,
Of which I'm certain none talks better,
When undisturbed by selfish cares:
Dispatch'd by mail, I sent in haste,
Frank'd too by—who you know,
Is much inclined to think my taste
Perception, judgment, equal to—
And I, of course will not demur,
So willingly agree to all,
His own good judgment will prefer,
To say about my upper Hall.
There's nothing here, that I can see,
A tight ribb'd dandy to amuse—
And but for name, I'd rather be
At home amid'st our native blues;
157
Upon the sun's superior heat,
Then go and join in rich repasts,
Without an appetite to eat.
Last night, a party form'd, proceeded,
Dame Amy made me her protector,
(A thing which, by the way, she needed,)
To list to John Cleve Symme's lecture,
A strange idea that of finding,
A door-way in the latter end
Of the old world, which we're confin'd in,
By which the in's and out's may blend.
However, it may all be true,
And I am not inclin'd to doubt it;
I only think that we might do,
(No harm I hope) quite well without it.
However if it should be so,
And times with me should be unruly,
A missionary, I will go,
Resuscitate the world below,
And lay faith's sword about me truly.
A double service that would be,
Since independent of the money,
The holy world would proffer me,
In payment for the service done ye;
My reputation long since faded,
Would be renew'd, and who could dare
Suggest that I was once degraded
With strange connexions, without fear
That for their impious thoughts, the thunder
Would burst with some unwonted shocks,
Upon their heads and rend asunder,
Whatever is not Orthodox!
Oh orthodox! permit me now,
In humbleness to bend my brow,
Whilst all the pride from which I start,
Forsakes my face and fills my heart!
Thou all convenient germ of faith,
Since wanting thee, we merit death,
Oblivion, something more than scaith.
Thou quality of saintly good,
More spoken of than understood!
Thou shiv'ring form that stands alone,
And damns all great-coats but thine own.
We bless thee, since, however crime
May blast our hopes to endless time,
Thou renovat'st us and revives
The prospects of our after lives—
Proves that our truth, tho' man revile,
Can make its sullen owners smile;
Supports us thro' our ordeal strife,
And with us walks the sea of life!
Dame Amy made me her protector,
(A thing which, by the way, she needed,)
To list to John Cleve Symme's lecture,
A strange idea that of finding,
A door-way in the latter end
Of the old world, which we're confin'd in,
By which the in's and out's may blend.
However, it may all be true,
And I am not inclin'd to doubt it;
I only think that we might do,
(No harm I hope) quite well without it.
However if it should be so,
And times with me should be unruly,
A missionary, I will go,
Resuscitate the world below,
And lay faith's sword about me truly.
A double service that would be,
Since independent of the money,
The holy world would proffer me,
In payment for the service done ye;
My reputation long since faded,
Would be renew'd, and who could dare
Suggest that I was once degraded
With strange connexions, without fear
158
Would burst with some unwonted shocks,
Upon their heads and rend asunder,
Whatever is not Orthodox!
Oh orthodox! permit me now,
In humbleness to bend my brow,
Whilst all the pride from which I start,
Forsakes my face and fills my heart!
Thou all convenient germ of faith,
Since wanting thee, we merit death,
Oblivion, something more than scaith.
Thou quality of saintly good,
More spoken of than understood!
Thou shiv'ring form that stands alone,
And damns all great-coats but thine own.
We bless thee, since, however crime
May blast our hopes to endless time,
Thou renovat'st us and revives
The prospects of our after lives—
Proves that our truth, tho' man revile,
Can make its sullen owners smile;
Supports us thro' our ordeal strife,
And with us walks the sea of life!
Ha! ha! you dog, what say to that?
Methinks that like some new made holies,
I can with grace begin to chat
About my fellows, faults and follies;
And finding ills their hearts have done,
Neglect the millstone round my own:
Cast off the smile of playful youth,
Assume the doubtful scowl of truth,
Clothe nature with a bigot's frown,
And look my fellow creatures down,
Who dare indulge in playful mirth,
To gild with smiles our grave-yard earth!
Methinks that like some new made holies,
I can with grace begin to chat
About my fellows, faults and follies;
And finding ills their hearts have done,
Neglect the millstone round my own:
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Assume the doubtful scowl of truth,
Clothe nature with a bigot's frown,
And look my fellow creatures down,
Who dare indulge in playful mirth,
To gild with smiles our grave-yard earth!
The race, which in my last I spoke of
As likely to occur this week,
I understand has just been broke off,
By reason of a jockies freak—
Defer'd however, but a while,
In a few days it will be run—
I shall attend with Dick in style,
And no doubt will enjoy much fun.
Oh! here you dog, from prosing free,
With whip in hand, full booted, spurr'd,
Would that you could but fly to me,
And tip again the signal word.
No driving here to equal ours,
I've tried my best but cannot lock
A single wheel, by all the powers,
None seem inclined to try the shock
And when I dash along so finely,
With whip high smacking in the air,
The dust on all sides so divinely
Thrown upwards, that I do declare,
The only incident that's lacking,
To make it reach its highest bliss,
Is that so glorious, bivouacking,
Of lodge-wheel—dodge-wheel into this.
Spokes flying—horses prancing—dust
Enveloping each upper crust,
In such delightful rich confusion,
That, by the Powers! until you settle,
Where apple-women curse the intrusion,
A man ne'er knows one half his mettle;
How often have I wish'd in sooth,
That you were here to join a row;
A thing you know we southern youth,
Are up to always—“that's the how.”
And d---e me Neddy, when I think,
Of So. Ca. blood, and So. Ca. drink,
When memory holds the long review,
Of by-gone raptures to my view,
Where steams at Stewart's on rich madeira,
Has made onr ideas flow much clearer;
When flowing rapture what could mar it?
Like Irish wake feasts where the pleasure
Was always crown'd with teeming measure,
And still preceded flowing claret!
Oh! d---e Neddy, but my senses,
Always confused at such a period,
No longer calculates expenses,
But ebbs and flows in manner very odd;
And I begin to think of home,
And—what the devil made me roam?
But Neddy, prithe do inquire
Occasionally at—and
No matter what is her desire,
Anticipate it I command.
But prithee let her not suspect,
The source from whence they emanate;
That she my wishes should detect,
You can't conceive how much I'd hate.
She deems me cruel, false, unkind,
And, by my soul, I cannot find,
Aught that I've done that can appear
Worthy her tenderness or care!
She smiles, but smiles in such a sort,
D---e I cannot thank her for 't,
A frown, by all the pow'rs of clay,
Would less intense reproach convey.
However pause we—do not smile
At these heart-follies, thaat you see;
I soon shall cure myself,—and while
I'm absent Neddy, let me be
First in your memory, as I fain,
Would have you foremost in my brain.
As likely to occur this week,
I understand has just been broke off,
By reason of a jockies freak—
Defer'd however, but a while,
In a few days it will be run—
I shall attend with Dick in style,
And no doubt will enjoy much fun.
Oh! here you dog, from prosing free,
With whip in hand, full booted, spurr'd,
Would that you could but fly to me,
And tip again the signal word.
No driving here to equal ours,
I've tried my best but cannot lock
A single wheel, by all the powers,
None seem inclined to try the shock
And when I dash along so finely,
With whip high smacking in the air,
The dust on all sides so divinely
Thrown upwards, that I do declare,
The only incident that's lacking,
To make it reach its highest bliss,
Is that so glorious, bivouacking,
160
Spokes flying—horses prancing—dust
Enveloping each upper crust,
In such delightful rich confusion,
That, by the Powers! until you settle,
Where apple-women curse the intrusion,
A man ne'er knows one half his mettle;
How often have I wish'd in sooth,
That you were here to join a row;
A thing you know we southern youth,
Are up to always—“that's the how.”
And d---e me Neddy, when I think,
Of So. Ca. blood, and So. Ca. drink,
When memory holds the long review,
Of by-gone raptures to my view,
Where steams at Stewart's on rich madeira,
Has made onr ideas flow much clearer;
When flowing rapture what could mar it?
Like Irish wake feasts where the pleasure
Was always crown'd with teeming measure,
And still preceded flowing claret!
Oh! d---e Neddy, but my senses,
Always confused at such a period,
No longer calculates expenses,
But ebbs and flows in manner very odd;
And I begin to think of home,
And—what the devil made me roam?
But Neddy, prithe do inquire
Occasionally at—and
161
Anticipate it I command.
But prithee let her not suspect,
The source from whence they emanate;
That she my wishes should detect,
You can't conceive how much I'd hate.
She deems me cruel, false, unkind,
And, by my soul, I cannot find,
Aught that I've done that can appear
Worthy her tenderness or care!
She smiles, but smiles in such a sort,
D---e I cannot thank her for 't,
A frown, by all the pow'rs of clay,
Would less intense reproach convey.
However pause we—do not smile
At these heart-follies, thaat you see;
I soon shall cure myself,—and while
I'm absent Neddy, let me be
First in your memory, as I fain,
Would have you foremost in my brain.
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