At page 21, is an account of a publication, some of whose predictions
were certainly imbued with a rare spirit of prophecy.
In October 1786, I commenced, in partnership with T. Siddons, Charles
Cist, C. Talbot, W. Spotswood, and J. Trenchard, the Columbian
Magazine. In the first number, I wrote four pieces, "The Life of
General Greene," "The Shipwreck, a Lamentable Story, Founded on Fact,"
"A Philosophical Dream," and "Hard Times, a Fragment."
The Philosophical Dream was an anticipation of the state of the
country in the year 1850, on the plan of Mercier's celebrated work,
"The Year 2500." Some of the predictions, which at that period must
have been regarded as farcical, have been wonderfully fulfilled, and
others are likely to be realized previous to the arrival of the year
1850. I annex a few of them, which may serve to amuse the reader.
"_Pittsburg, Jan. 15, 1850_. The canal which is making from the river
Ohio, to the Susquehanna, and thence to the Delaware, will be of
immense advantage to the United States. If the same progress continues
to be made hereafter as has been for some time past, it will be
completed in less than two years."
This was probably the first suggestion of the grand project of uniting
the waters of the Delaware with those of the Ohio. It preceded by four
years the project of the financier, Robert Morris, and his friends, to
unite the Delaware with the Schuylkill and the Susquehanna, which was
broached in 1790.
"_Pittsburg, Jan. 15_. Delegates from the thirtieth new state, laid
off a few months since by order of Congress, lately arrived at
Columbia; and on producing their credentials, were received into the
Federal Council.
"_Charleston, April 15_. No less than 10,000 blacks have been
transported from this state and Virginia, during the last two years,
to Africa, where they have formed a settlement near the mouth of the
river Goree. Very few blacks remain in this country now: and we
sincerely hope that in a few years every vestige of the infamous
traffic carried on by our ancestors in the human species, will be done
away.
"_Richmond, April 30_. By authentic advices from Kentucky, we are
informed,--that 'no less than 150 vessels have been built on the river
Ohio, during the last year, and sent down that river and the
Mississippi, laden with valuable produce, which has been carried to
the West Indies, where the vessels and their cargoes have been
disposed of to great advantage.'
"_Boston, April 30_. At length the canal across the Isthmus of Darien
is completed. It is about sixty miles long. First-rate vessels of war
can with ease sail through. Two vessels belonging to this port, two to
Philadelphia, and one to New York, sailed through on the 20th of
January last, bound for Canton, in China.
"_Columbia, May 1_. Extract from the Journals of Congress.--'Ordered
that there be twenty professors in the University of Columbia, in this
city; viz. of Divinity, of Church History, of Hebrew, of Greek, of
Humanity, of Logic, of Moral Philosophy, of Natural Philosophy, of
Mathematics, of Civil History, of Natural History, of Common and Civil
Law, of the Law of Nature and Nations, of Rhetoric and Belles Lettres,
of Botany, of Materia Medica, of Physic, of Chemistry, of Anatomy, and
of Midwifery.'"
_Philadelphia, Oct. 1, 1786_.
There is much characteristic simplicity in Mr. Carey's manner of
telling the anecdote annexed.
In travelling from New York to Philadelphia, some years since, the
slenderness of my knowledge of the French led me into a most egregious
error, and excited the displeasure of a splendid French lady who was
in the stage. She had lived a long time in New York, and yet spoke the
English language very imperfectly. I told her she ought to speak
English constantly, when she was in company with English or Americans:
that this was the only way in which she could acquire it. "Monsieur,"
says she, "_j'ai honte_," I am ashamed; literally, "I have shame."
Reiterating her own word, I replied, "_Madame, je croyais que les
dames Françoises n' avaient pas de honte_"--whereas I ought to have
said, as I really meant, "_mauvaise honte_." She was exasperated, and
told me indignantly that the French ladies had as much "_shame_"
(meaning modesty) as the Americans; and that there was more immorality
practised in New York than in Marseilles, of which she was a native,
or in Martinique, where she had long resided. It was in vain that I
repeatedly pledged my honor that I had not meant to affront her; that
I was led into error solely by repeating her own word. It was equally
in vain that I appealed to some of the passengers who understood
French, who testified that the mistake was perfectly natural, and was
justified by the imperfection of my knowledge of her language. Nothing
could pacify her, and after several vain attempts, I relinquished the
hope of soothing her feelings, and she scarcely spoke another word
during the rest of the journey.
{205} AUTOGRAPHY.
Our friend and particular acquaintance, Joseph Miller, Esq. (who, by
the way, signs his name, we think, Joseph A. Miller, or Joseph B.
Miller, or at least Joseph C. Miller) paid us a visit a few days ago.
His behavior was excessively odd. Walking into our _sanctum_ without
saying a word, he seated himself with a dogged air in our own
exclusive arm-chair, and surveyed us, for some minutes, in silence,
and in a very suspicious manner, over the rim of his spectacles. There
was evidently something in the wind. "What _can_ the man want?"
thought we, without saying so.
"I will tell you," said Joseph Miller, Esq.--that is to say, Joseph D.
Miller, Joseph E. Miller, or possibly Joseph F. Miller, Esq. "I will
tell you," said he. Now, it is a positive fact that we had not so much
as attempted to open any of our mouths.
"I will tell you," said he, reading our thoughts.
"Ah, thank you!" we replied, slightly smiling, and feeling excessively
uncomfortable--"thank you!--we should like to know."
"I believe," resumed he--resumed Joseph G. Miller--"I believe you are
not altogether unacquainted with our family."
"Why, _not_ altogether, certainly--pray, sir, proceed."
"It is one of the oldest families in ---- in ----"
"In Great Britain," we interposed, seeing him at a loss.
"In the United States," said Mr. Miller--that is, Joseph H. Miller,
Esq.
"In the United States!--why, sir, you are joking surely: we thought
the Miller family were particularly British--The Jest-Book you
know ----"
"You are in error," interrupted he--interrupted Joseph I. Miller--"we
are British, but not particularly British. You should know that the
Miller family are indigenous every where, and have little connection
with either time or place. This is a riddle which you may be able to
read hereafter. At present let it pass, and listen to me. You know I
have many peculiar notions and opinions--many particularly bright
fancies which, by the way, the rabble have thought proper to call
whims, oddities, and eccentricities. But, sir, they are not. You have
heard of my passion for autographs?"
"We have."
"Well, sir, to be brief. Have you, or have you not, seen a certain
rascally piece of business in the London Athenæum?"
"Very possible," we replied.
"And, pray sir, what do you think of it?"
"Think of what?"
"No, sir, not of _what_," said he--said Joseph K. Miller, Esq. getting
very angry, "not of _what_ at all; but of that absurd, nefarious, and
superfluous piece of autographical rascality therein--that is to say
in the London Athenæum--deliberately, falsely, and maliciously
fathered upon me, and laid to my charge--to the charge of _me_, I say,
Joseph L. Miller." Here, Mr. M. arose, and, unbuttoning his coat in a
great rage, took from his breast pocket a bundle of MSS. and laid them
emphatically upon the table.
"Ah ha!" said we, getting particularly nervous, "we begin to
understand you. We comprehend. Sit down! You, Joseph M.--that is to
say, Joseph N. Miller--have had--that is to say, ought to have had,
eh?--and the London Athenæum is--that is to say, it is not,
&c.--and--and--and--oh, precisely!"
"My _dear_ sir," said Mr. Miller, affectionately, "you are a fool--a
confounded fool. Hold your tongue! _This_ is the state of the case. I,
Joseph O. Miller, being smitten, as all the world knows, with a
passion for autographs, am supposed, in that detestable article to
which I am alluding, and which appeared some time ago in the London
Athenæum,--am supposed, I say, to have indited sundry epistles, to
several and sundry characters of literary notoriety about London, with
the sinister design, hope, and intention, of thereby eliciting
autograph replies--the said epistles, presumed to be indited by me,
each and individually being neither more nor less than one and the
same thing, and consisting----"
"Yes sir," said we, "and consisting----"
"And consisting," resumed Mr. Joseph P. Miller, "of certain silly
inquiries respecting the character of certain ----"
"Of certain cooks, scullions, and chambermaids," said we, having now
some faint recollection of the article alluded to.
"Precisely," said our visiter--"of certain cooks, scullions,
chambermaids, and boot-blacks."
"And concerning whose character you are supposed to be excessively
anxious."
"Yes, sir--_I_--excessively anxious!--only think of that!--I, Joseph
Q. Miller, excessively anxious!"
"Horrible!" we ejaculated.
"Damnable!" said Mr. M.
"But what papers are _these_?" demanded we, taking courage, and eyeing
the bundle of MSS. which our friend had thrown upon the table.
"Those papers," said Mr. Miller, after a pause, and with considerable
dignity of manner, "those papers are, to tell you the truth, the
result of some--of some ingenuity on the part of your humble servant.
They are autographs--but they are _American_ autographs, and as such
may be of some little value in your eyes. Pray accept them--they are
entirely at your service. I beg leave, however, to assure you that I
have resorted to no petty arts for the consummation of a glorious
purpose. No man can accuse _me_, sir, _me_, Joseph R. Miller, of
meanness or of superficiality. My letters have invariably been--have
been--that is to say, have been every thing they should be. Moreover,
they have not been what they should not be. I have propounded no
inquiries about scullions. I wrote not to the sublimated Mr. ----,
[here we do not feel justified in indicating more fully the name
mentioned by Mr. M.] touching a chambermaid, nor to Mr. ----, in
relation to a character. On the contrary, I have adapted my means to
my ends. I have--I have--in short, sir, I have accomplished many great
and glorious things, all of which you shall behold in the sequel." We
bowed, and our visiter continued.
"The autographs here included are, you will perceive, the autographs
of our principal _literati_. They will prove interesting to the
public. It would be as well to insert the letters in your Messenger,
with facsimiles of the signatures. Of my own letters eliciting these
replies I have unfortunately preserved no copies." Here Mr. M. handed
us the MSS.
{206} "Mr. Joseph S. Miller"--we began, deeply penetrated by his
kindness.
"Joseph _T_. Miller, if you please," interrupted he, with an emphasis
on the T.
"Well, sir," said we--"so be it; Mr. Joseph V. Miller, then, since you
will have it so, we are highly sensible of your noble, of your
disinterested generosity. We are ----"
"Say no more," interrupted our friend, with a sigh--"say no more, I
beseech you. The MSS. are entirely at your service. You have been very
kind to me, and when I forget a kindness my name is no longer Joseph
W. Miller."
"Then your name _is_--is positively Joseph W. Miller?"--we inquired
with some hesitation.
"It is"--he replied, with a toss of the head, which we thought
slightly supercilious--"It is--Joseph X. Miller. But why do you ask?
Good day! In a style epistolary and non-epistolary I must bid you
adieu--that is to say I must depart (and _not_ remain) your obedient
servant, Joseph Y. Miller."
"Extremely ambiguous!" we thought, as he whipped out of the room--"Mr.
Miller! Mr. Miller!"--and we hallooed after him at the top of our
voice. Mr. Miller returned at the call, but most unfortunately we had
forgotten what we had been so anxious to say.
"Mr. Miller," said we, at length, "shall we not send you a number of
the Magazine containing your correspondence?"
"Certainly!"--he replied--"drop it in the Post Office."
"But, sir," said we, highly embarrassed,--"to what--to what address
shall we direct it?"
"Address!" ejaculated he--"you astonish me! Address _me_, sir, if you
please--Joseph Z. Miller."
The package handed us by Mr. M. we inspected with a great deal of
pleasure. The letters were neatly arranged and endorsed, and numbered
from one to twenty-four. We print them _verbatim_, and with facsimiles
of the signatures, in compliance with our friend's suggestion. The
dates, throughout, were overscored, and we have been forced,
accordingly, to leave them blank. The remarks appended to each letter
are our own.