1. CHAPTER I.
MY ancestors came from England. They were part
of the persecuted dissenters, who sought an asylum in
the wilds of America—of those enterprising few, who
landed at Plymouth, in sixteen hundred and twenty.
My great-grandfather, by the father's side, came over
at the time I have mentioned. His name was Burlinton,
though we now spell it Burlington. He professed
the presbyterian religion, but it appears, from some of
his papers which are now before me, that he was by no
means rigid. I find that he opposed those severe rules
which were drawn up for the government of the newly
formed church, which they styled “The Dominion.”
They enforced their laws without mercy, and without
decency. None could be admitted as freemen, jurymen,
or magistrates, but members of the church. In short,
no office could be held by any man in the dominion, who
was not a member of the church. A number of these
papers appear to have been a correspondence between
this gentleman and his more zealous brethren. To
transcribe them all, would take up too much time, and
answer no purpose, as all those who are acquainted with
the history of the times of which I speak, must know
too much of these lamentable truths. As a sample of
those pious bigots, I will, however, copy one letter,
which seems to have been written by a friend of Mr.
Burlington, upon one of these renowned occasions.
Dear Friend—You complain, in your last, of the violent
proceedings of your town on the old subject; but it
is trifling, compared to the zeal of our minister.—
Though my health is little improved, since I wrote you
last, yet I went to hear Mr. Williams, last Sabbath. I
was shocked at the discourse; but, dear Thomas, it
would cost me my life, if this were known. He raged,
he stamped, he foamed at the mouth, and all this for a
mere phantom—a shadow. Strange, that our teachers
should set such examples of wrath. I am sure, Christ
enjoins it upon us, to be meek and lowly. But I will try
to give you a plain account of some of the sermon. He
said that “the cross of St. George, in the English colours,
was a downright popish relict; that it was Idolatry,
and popish whoredom, to retain this ensign of hellish
superstition.” But his language would be too tiresome
to you, and withal, not edifying. So much did his
discourse affect the congregation, that they held a meeting,
that same evening, and passed a decree, that it
should be publicly cut out of the colours, and should never
be seen amongst God's people.” I am very doubtful
that this is not the right way—moreover, our minister
and another one, by the name of Roberts, had some
very uncivil talk that same evening. This cannot be
the right way—we have lost it, somehow. We are, in
truth, without teachers; for I would put no more faith
in this madman, Williams, than I would in Satan. It
puts me in mind of a saying of Luther's friend, Mclancthon,
of Wittemberg. He said “that he longed to
be dissolved, and that for two reasons—first, that he
might enjoy the much desired presence of Christ, and
the heavenly church—secondly, that he might be freed
from the cruel and implacable discords of divines.”—
But I shall not, I trust, be long in this turbulent world.
I am heart-sick of it. What a monster is man! Better
had we remained in England:—I could laugh, there;
here I dare not smile. Adieu, dear friend, &c. &c.
All this goes to show, what a horrid thing fanaticism
is, when it attains any considerable degree of power.—
In short, the subsequent persecutions, and arbitrary
measures, adopted and pursued, by these people, entirely
alienated from them the only surviving son of this
old gentleman. He embraced the religion of the peaceable
Quakers. His name was Thomas. He died in
the prime of life, and very suddenly, leaving but two
children, both of which were sons. One of them was
called Charles, after his father; the other Thomas, after
himself. Charles was likewise a Quaker. He pursued
the mercantile business with great application and
success. He married the daughter of the wealthy Mr.
F—. She was his only child. By her he had four
children; two sons and as many daughters. Two only
survived him; a son, (myself,) and a daughter. My
mother was likewise of the Quaker persuasion, and I
still have a preference for that religion.
Thomas, his other son, (my uncle,) was younger than
my father, by nine years. He testified great displeasure
at the authority exercised over him, by my father,
and finally eloped on board a British sloop of war, at
the age of sixteen, and went to the East Indies; where,
as we heard, he died. It was reported that he fought
against his native country, in the revolutionary war; but
how true it was, I cannot tell. My father never saw
him afterwards. He was much afflicted at this distressing
circumstance, and never mentioned his name without
a sigh.
My father took a very active part in the revolutionary
war, and was in several engagements; on which account
he was excluded from the society of Quakers. At
the close of the war, he removed to Boston, and continued
to follow the mercantile business.
He was very successful, and even might be called
rich, before I was born, which was in the year seventeen
hundred and eighty-seven. I was his third child.
He had taken several clerks, to assist him in his counting
house. Amongst these, was one whose name was
Hunter, whom my father found in the streets, when a
lad, naked and destitute of friends. His parents were
both dead, and he was without friends, and without
money, or property of any description. My father
took him to his house, gave him his breakfast, clothed
him, and sent him to school.
When he was sufficiently qualified to write, and do
business in the store, he was removed from school to
the counting-house; where he conducted himself with
the strictest integrity and application. I have heard
my father say, often, that he was the most attentive
clerk he had.
When he became old enough to do business for himself,
my father, who had often told him he would reward his
good conduct, took him as a partner, and lent him two
thousand pounds, in addition to his share of profits, as
a compensation for his services. He took Hunter's
bonds for the money, payable five years after date.
It was agreed, between him and my father, that he
should remove to New-York, where he remained several
years; during which time, he had risen rapidly in
the world, and still continued a partner of my father.
He made several voyages to Liverpool, in the time, and
supported the character of an upright, active, and persevering
merchant.
He had never paid my father the money advanced to
him, but then he was good for it, and was ready to do
so, at any time.
At the age of seventeen, my father sent me to Princeton
College. An old acquaintance of his father, was
at that time one of the professors, which led him to prefer
that College, to Yale or Harvard. At this seminary,
I made but very little progress. My education had
been too much neglected, in the earlier part of my life;
and now, I had neither talents, application, nor taste,
for literary pursuits. Born to great wealth, I looked
down upon my fellow-students, with contempt. No
doubt, they viewed me in the same light. History, geography,
astronomy, and a very imperfect knowledge of
the Latin tongue, were the amount of my literary acquirements.
At Princeton, I formed an acquaintance with a Mr.
Henry Wilson; the son of a wealthy Virginia planter-This
young man was nearly of my own age. We resembled
each other in disposition, temper, and general
principles; but he was greatly my superior in talents,
as well as industry in the prosecution of his studies.
He was liberal, humane, and wholly untainted with
pride or bigotry.
In short, he possessed every virtue, and was free from
every vice. But modesty was his predominant characteristic.
Our acquaintance soon grew up to the
tenderest and most indissoluble friendship, which has remained
to this hour.
In a world like this, where ingratitude, injustice,
fraud, violence, and a thousand other crimes embitter-society,
an acquisition of this nature is the greatest of
all possible blessings. Our acquaintance was merely
accidental, having arose from the circumstance of our
both lodging in the same room.
In the first year, Henry Wilson would often reproach
me for my idleness; and this he would do, in language
replete with reason and gentleness. When the Christmas
holy-days approached, Wilson, with a little persuasion,
wrote an excuse to his parents, and accompanied
me to Boston.
During our stay in that city, our time was filled up
with all sorts of amusement. Balls, plays, sleighing,
and those various amusements which engage the youth
of both sexes, in the winter season, made the time roll
merrily on. But, at length, the day came, when we
were to set out for Princeton.
When we came to take leave, I perceived, for the first
time, symptoms of attachment between Wilson and my
sister. She had just entered her sixteenth year. Her
figure was not striking; it was, however, without defect.
She was tall and slender; danced and sung well;
her complexion fair; her eyes a dark blue. In short,
she was reckoned handsome; and, even at this early
age, had many admirers. But Wilson was a new lover,
and this circumstance has great sway with most females.
In the present instance, however, it was not a
subject of much wonder, the advantages on both sides
being nearly equal.
It may not be improper, in this place, to mention
another circumstance, which, though seemingly unimportant
in itself, ultimately becomes the pivot upon
which the incidents in the following sheets revolve.
During my residence at college, my father had taken
a new servant into his family, of the name of Horton.
It appears that he had been recommended to my father,
by Hunter. Although not in want of a servant, he
payed that respect to his friend's recommendation, to
which he conceived him entitled. I did not like this
Horton. He had a dark, gloomy, designing countenance,
touched with slyness and cunning; but, seeing
that he was a favourite with my father, I kept my suspicions
to myself, and set out with Wilson, for Princeton.
