12. Bad are: The beginnings of popular songs, the names of dishes (except their name be as fine as their taste savory), the names of instruments-in short look at the English Stud Book and you will see insipid, capricious, ludicrous, ignoble names enough, which ought to rouse the indignation of every one who ever loved a horse. And now my dear sir, should you ever own a packet, or wish a name for any other sea-vessel, pray let me know. I have a historical love for the sea-the element of men; and I have myself too often experienced how agreeable it is to meet far out on the vast ocean a vessel with a significant name; nor can any one sail far in a craft with a sound, good or poetic name, without having dwelled on it with pleasure during those silent hours, when, after the golden disc has dipped beneath the glowing sea, and the silvery orb stands bright, mute clear above you, the watches have changed, each sailor 6. There are many well-sounding geographical names; has taken his place, and the mate-his warmer jacket glance at a Gazetteer: Ragusa Mantua Saratoga Otranto Verona Toronto Lepanto Salonica Venustus, a, buttoned up to the chin-paces the deck to and fro. If you sail to see your friends, to see your wife, to see your boys-it is pleasing indeed if you can weave and unravel light poetry-not firm enough to be pronounced, but the fine tissue of our soul-out of the name of the 7. Latin words for certain qualities might do very well: vessel which plays like the shuttle to weave the woof Celer Fugax Alba between the many threads that tie your heart to the place you sail to. Yes indeed it would be well worth our while to write a system of ploionomastics, and give Similar Greek words would not do so well, Melas names for men of war, packets, common merchantmen (black), Sobaros (proud), Leucos (white). down to the skimming Baltimore gull. Aye, would it But corresponding words might be taken from any not be well to take the whole subject into consideration other well sounding idiom, as Leggiadra Nera. Flowers, would not provide us with good names, ac. cording to my taste. Yet Viola would do, because we think of him of whom every soul thinks with joy-of Shakspeare. 9. It is perhaps difficult to find English words which unite the various qualities, of which a race horse name ought to be possessed. Compositions rarely succeed. 10. Many fine and open sounding names may be derived from the Indians; but these names are too much associated in our minds with the painful ideas of a withering race, to be added to the many in history, which have lived without leaving any traces, destined to yield up their inheritance to the science, judgment, boldness, sound industry, restless enterprize, craft and crime of more gifted races. They are dying, and dying a wretched death. Let us meditate upon their fate, not sport with their names on the turf. 11. If you please, you may make names; but man will act wise, if he holds as far as possible to some line he has prescribed to himself, or other. This belongs to Ethics; you hipponomastics press all branches into service. Belosa Zomanda Damanco Domanza Ferlandi Labino and give rules to select, and propose good names befitting the subject, occasion or purpose for children, islands, towns, rivers, lakes, streets, squares, mountains, taverns, companies and banks, hoses, ships, horses, cars, canals, parties, sects, opponents, engines, papers, dogs, ferries, novels, bills, beverages, dishes, perfumes, conventions, candidates, patterns, bonnets, new crimes (in politics), wines, panaceas, pills and drugs, medical humbugs and theories, academics, saw mills, manufactories, &c. &c. I hope you will find a few appropriate names among the above and wish you may have many true blooded colts to apply them to. I am, my dear sir, Ever your most faithful friend and serv't NAVARINO. FRANCIS LIEBER. BY MISS E. DRAPER. Greece by her desolation had become Not thus to muse upon her gloomy shore, They the brave-hearted of that squadron came- Now, by Mohamed, 'twas no pleasant sight, 'Neath spreading sail they headlong bore away, Nor did they ever dream that passage lay To their pride's downfall, and their people's slaughter. Thus to have sported with a feebler power The brave Allies besought the Pasha's ear, A demon glance-a flash of hell's own flame-- He stood like one whose sword and faith were given As from his quivering lip the fierce oath burst, To sunny France, and England's merry Isle, The Greeks applaud-the dauntless Christians shout: For warrior brave to weep amid the gloom The terror'd Mussulman, with hopeless yell, Rode they upon the waves, a mighty fleet And thou, fair Navarino! who shall tell The good or evil that await on thee? Thy skies may echo with the thrilling swell Of joyous conquest o'er thine enemy. Oh! by the chains of thy captivity, Heaven nerves thine arm-Heaven saith thou shalt be free: Hast thou no courage for the desperate blow? Hark! to the sound of waters from afar, Thick and impetuous, they come-they come. Of dark foreboding and approaching doom. TO Á WATCH. BY JOHN CARROLL BRENT. Index of Time, that with thy finger shows In laudatory mood these verses I essay ! Companion of my wanderings, whose face I could but think, that though our steps were slow, As trudging onward we did staidly go, We near'd each step the goal Where I might press my couch, and yield to sleep's control! Watch! thou art fondled by the youth who sighs When his warm fancy flies But thou still soundest on to knell the hour that dies! But when thy figures tell him that the hour, He then doth know that love's bewitching pow'r Unto his warm embrace all confident to run. Unto the ardent soul of ardent youth is dear. Of the doom'd convict's sleep with horror and affright; As he doth know they tell But to the man whose ev'ry hour is dear- Who, prompt and active, wends his destin'd way, Too rapidly to stray Upon thy polish'd face, to mark old Time's decay! Mirror of Time, on whose bright countenance We learn in time to meet its sorrows and mischance! Aye! thou art eloquent, mysterious toy, And though thy notes annoy, Yet that low voice of thine they never may destroy! ISLAND OF JAMESTOWN. Not long since, I enjoyed the pleasure of spending a few days, on the island of Jamestown, at the hospitable mansion of the polite, intelligent, and friendly proprietor of that place. He accompanied me in my antiquarian researches over the island, and related many facts connected with its history, of which I was before igno rant. I felt whilst there that I stood upon holy ground. It is a place consecrated to the spirit of antiquity, and around which the genius of liberty delights to hover. Here the germ of our mighty nation was first planted— here took root, and from hence has continued to grow That, ere thy hands go round, thou, Watch, must sound and spread, until it has attained its present gigantic his knell! See'st thou yon group around the bed of pain, From death, whose fingers strain With clutch upon his heart he cannot long sustain? size, and overshadowed an almost boundless region. Here the light of civilization first dawned, and diffused its cheering beams over this benighted continent. Liberty, driven from the old world, and wearied with long continued, but ineffectual exertions, to disenthral the human race, here found a resting place-a congenial soil, and congenial spirits-where, and with whom, it could successfully prosecute its heavenly design of imparting peace, virtue, and happiness to mankind. What privations did our forefathers here endure; what perils did they encounter, that they might secure the blessings of liberty to themselves, and transmit them safely to their posterity. Few in number, and exiles from their native land, they stood, almost alone in the world, in the midst of a vast and illimita Where the foul worm shall soon his mouldering clay ble desert, dark, gloomy and wild-inhabited only by consume. Thou art the idler's curse, whose hours do go The sluggish waves of life all quietly must flow! beasts of prey, and men the most fierce and blood-thirsty of their race. They stood firm and invincible, although beset by every danger, and assailed by every evil to which man is liable-although suffering from all the calamities which follow in the train of war, pestilence, and famine. This is the scene of the romantic adventures of the gallant, chivalrous Smith; of the beautiful and heroic thaniel Bacon," as he is termed in the act of attainder against him, or rather of the patriot Bacon, as he deserves to be called. Pocahontas; and of that "arch-rebel and traitor Na- | still to be seen, some remains of the walls, and mounds of the ancient fortress of Jamestown. This fort was erected by the first settlers, consisting of 105 persons, who were brought from England, in 1607, by Captain Newport. The fort, evidently, extended some distance beyond its present termination, but has been gradually washed away, by the encroaching tides. It was mounted by several pieces of ordnance. Here stood the intrepid Smith, when he directed the cannon against the ship, in which Governor Wingfield, together with a great majority of the colonists had embarked, with a determination to return to England, and abandon the colony forever. He mounted the fort, and stood prepared, as soon as they set sail, to fire upon them, and sink the ship. This intimidated them. They left the ship, and returned to the island. Here was once a flourishing and populous town, and a happy, gay, and prosperous population. Jamestown was the seat of government, and the residence of the royal governor for nearly a century. Here was the colonial court, which imitated, in an humble way, the pomp, state, and ceremony of the court of St. James; and much more effectually imitated, its intrigues, venality, and corruption. Here the fashion, wealth and talents of the colony, were for a long time concentrated. How changed! Where now is the population? It is gone; its place shall know it no more. Where the busy merchant? the wealthy burgher? the rough soldier? the promising youth? the reigning beauty of the town? "Each is in his narrow cell forever laid." They sleep beneath the ground on which I now tread, "without a stone to tell where they lie"--" without a tear to grace their memory." They have long ago mouldered into their kindred dust. A few hundred yards to the right of the fort, stands a small brick building, which, tradition says, was a powder magazine. Underneath this, there is a cellar arched and paved with brick, in which, in all probability, the ammunition was deposited. This is said to be the oldest building on the continent. It was built, according to tradition, at a very early period after the settlement at Jamestown. On the north side of the house, numeWhere are the well built streets--the neat, substan-rous impressions in the walls, are plainly visible, which, tial dwellings--the venerable church--the stately palace it is evident, were made by balls fired against the house. of the governor? The curse denounced against Baby- The magazine was probably attacked by Bacon's party, lon seems to have fallen upon them. They are "razed, or by the Indians. The bricks, and mortar, forming razed to the ground." Tenants and houses have toge- the arch of the cellar, are apparently as fresh, as if they ther mouldered into ruin, and mingle together in the had been put up very recently. dust. Scarcely one vestige of the town remains. What This building stands, like an imperishable monument, was once a town, is now a cultivated field. Luxuriant over the graves of our forefathers; uninjured by the crops, now wave over the graves of the former inhabi- assaults of time; unimpaired by the violence of the eletants. Instead of "the crowd, the hum, the shock of ments. How many, and how great changes has it witmen," here is deep solitude, profound silence, and the nessed, moral, political, and physical! It is almost the undisturbed repose of nature. How mutable are all only visible, tangible link connecting the present, with earthly things! How transient is life! How vain and the past history of our country. The stream of time perishable are all the works of man, and how utterly has rolled onward, bearing off on its current whole useless and worthless do they ultimately prove to be! generations of men, with all their works, all the proud The island of Jamestown was, formerly, a peninsula. trophies of their art and science, all their schemes of It was connected with the main land, on the north side, greatness, grandeur, and glory. This little building by a narrow isthmus, near the upper extremity of the alone, has defied its strength; alone resists for the preisland. This isthmus has long since disappeared, having sent, that relentless power, which would overwhelm all been washed away, by the force of the current, and tides. things in its course, and which cannot be at rest, until It was on this little neck of land, that an intrenchment it has destroyed, and swept away from the earth, every was thrown up, during the rebellion of 1675, to oppose vestige of man and his atchievements. The spirits of General Bacon's entrance into the island. The troops our forefathers, if they are permitted to visit their former of Governor Berkeley were stationed behind this forti- earthly abode, must enjoy a solemn pleasure in contemfication. In this position, they were attacked, by Ba-plating this sole relic of all their labors, and memento con's forces; the intrenchments were stormed; Berke- of their corporeal existence. A thousand interesting asley's troops defeated; and Bacon, and his followers, sociations, of by-gone years, entwine themselves around entered the island. They fired the town, which was this venerable little building. entirely consumed; and compelled the governor and council to abandon the island, and seek refuge on the eastern shore of Virginia. Bacon assumed the reins of government; convened the house of Burgesses, and performed many other acts of sovereignty. When, in the full career of successful usurpation, he was suddenly seized with violent sickness, which terminated in his death. The government, afterwards, remained for a short time, in the hands of Ingram, Bacon's lieutenant general. James City (as it was called) was located on the upper part, and on the south side of the island, near the banks of the river. Near the site of the town, are At a little distance from this house, are the remains (consisting of bricks, plaster, &c.) of an apparently very large building. This was probably the governor's, or state house. There are similar remains of buildings, in other places, lying on the surface of the ground, in regular order, in a long, narrow line, which probably indicate the direction and location of the principal streets of the town. A part of the steeple of the church, which was burnt (I believe) during Bacon's rebellion, is still standing. This steeple once proudly overlooked a flourishing town, and a dense population. Now it stands deserted, and alone. Like some aged man, who has lived to the surrounding country, abound in game of almost every description-partridges, pheasants, wild-turkies, water-fowl, and deer. see all the friends and companions of his earlier years corn, wheat, oats, and palma-christi. The island, and carried to the grave, while he survives, a venerable monument of past times, sad, silent, and solitary, unknown to, and unconnected with, the generation which surrounds him, and bearing upon his visage, deeply engraven marks of the ravages of time, and the corroding sorrows of life. Contiguous to this steeple there is an ancient graveyard. Several members of the Lee family, of Greenspring, were buried here. Their tombs are still standing, although very much impaired by time. This has been a conspicuous, and distinguished family, from a very remote period. The tomb of John Ambler, who was interred here, is also standing. He was the first sole proprietor of Jamestown; and erected the large brick dwelling house on the island, which is in excellent condition, though built, probably, nearly a century ago. This is the only dwelling house on the island. Here are the tombs of several other persons, eminent for talents and usefulness, during the early age of the colony. The names, dates, &c. on many of the tombstones are legible. They are, however, in a very ruinous, mutilated state. There is an inscription, on one of the tombs, recording the death of a man who died in 1670. This is, doubtless, one of the most ancient tombstones in the United States. In digging the foundations of a house, on the island, some time since, the workmen discovered several human skeletons. Indeed, these may be found in many places near the site of the town. Jamestown was literally the grave of the first settlers. The fatality among them, produced by famine, and the diseases of the climate, (then, much more violent than at present) was almost unprecedented. The part of the island not embraced within the limits of the town, appears to have been apportioned into numerous lots, of a small size, each one of which was surrounded by a dike. Many of these ditches are still visible, and plainly indicate the extent of the lots they enclosed. On some of these lots, are to be found remains of buildings. On one, there is an old well, the brick walls of which are quite perfect and sound. This is all that remains of ancient Jamestown. We do not find there, the splendid, massive ruins; the remnants of colossal columns, gigantic domes, and other mutilated, but gorgeous specimens of architecture, which throw a lustre around the memory of Palmyra, Memphis, and Thebes. But, the important events which transpired on this little island, and the glorious results which have sprung from them, shed a halo around it, which rivals in brilliancy that of any of the boasted cities of antiquity. This island is the birth place of our nation. Here the infant giant was nurtured, until he was able to go forth "rejoicing as a strong man to run his course," and to fulfil the mighty destiny which awaited him. Every patriot must feel a deep interest in every circumstance connected with this place. Such is Jamestown-venerable for its antiquitysacred as the home and grave of our forefathers; and hallowed as the spot on which the embryo liberties of our country were fostered and cherished. THE ANTIQUARY. N. B. Since the above was written, the writer's attention has been called, by a friend, to Letter VI of the "British Spy ;" and he has discovered in that letter, and in the above piece, a similarity of expression and coincidence of sentiment, in a few instances. But the writer has not, on that account, thought proper to change his expressions or sentiments. ORIGINAL LETTERS OF MR. JEFFERSON. From the papers of a deceased revolutionary patriot, once a Judge of the Supreme Court of Appeals of Virginia, a friend has furnished us five letters, written by Mr. Jefferson; the earliest in 1764, the latest in 1779. We give them to our readers, as interesting memorials, hitherto unpublished, of the greatest, save one, of the mighty men whom that soul-stirring time reared up, to ennoble the name of Virginia, and make her and her sister states (if they would but be so!) burning and shining lights, to guide mankind on the path to freedom and happiness. We have numbered the letters, in the order of their dates. The two first, it will be perceived, relate chiefly to some of those incidents of Mr. J.'s college-lifenamely, youthful love, courtship, plans for the future, and day-dreams of expected felicity,-which occupy several of his letters, published in Mr. Tucker's late and excellent Life of Jefferson. It is easy to trace in them, the beginnings of that happy epistolary style, which afterwards so greatly distinguished their author, and probably, indeed, contributed as much as any other single talent, to his ultimate preeminence. One merit in them-especially in the first-we will mark with particular praise, because it is the opposite of a fault, upon which some of the little and middling great men of the present day, preposterously value themselves. The handwriting is neat, round, distinct, and legible. The signature (unlike that of many a coxcomb, who fancies himself a second Byron or Napoleon, because he appends to an unreadable scrawl, a name which not even Champollion could decipher), is as plain as print. The time when No. I was written does not appear on its face: and the place where, is so nearly torn out, that we have only the R and the i to make us suppose it is The greater part of the island was in the possession "Richmond." No. II, however, shows it to have been of the Ambler family for several generations. The not long before March, 1764, when the author was in other portion remained, for many years, in possession his 21st year. No. II is not signed: but is known by of the Travis family. The present proprietor has the hand, and by this label endorsed, in characters appurchased the whole island. It is a very valuable es-parently well nigh as ancient as the letter itself—“Tom tate, containing about 2,000 acres of land. The tract Jefferson's Letter 20th March, 1764." contains 12 or 1400 acres of arable land, of excellent quality. The soil is well adapted to the growth of Dabney Carr, whose death is the subject of No. III, was Mr. Jefferson's brother-in-law, and father of the |