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APPENDIX.

The lamented death of MR. HARDIE, the projector and author of this work, (who only lived to complete it as far as the 276th page,) has necessarily rendered it less perfect than it would have been, had his existence been lengthened by only a few short months. It will be proper, therefore, in this place to notice such discrepances, and correct such errors, as have originated in the peculiar circumstances under which this volume has been constructed. It was commenced in August, 1825, and put to press as fast as the copy could be prepared. On the death of the author, its progress was of course suspended, until another hand could be found capable of filling up the outlines he had left. This task was at length, very reluctantly undertaken, by one who feels and confesses his inability to do it justice; but who hopes that the integrity of his motive will be accepted as an apology for his failure Under such an impression he will proceed to note a few incidents connected with the historical part of this work.

In a note, page 82, the author observes that the two first of these venerable patriots [Jefferson and Adams] have been presidents of the United States," and are still living." This assertion was true, at the time the first part of this work was printed, but the wonderful coincidence of their subsequent decease, on the fourth of July, 1826, is recorded in the annals of our national history, and deeply impressed on the living tablets of human hearts. The circumstances are familiar to all.

On the morning of that glorious anniversary, three only of the sages who had signed the declaration of our Independence, remained on the stage of human action. They had lived (says an elegant writer) to witness the greatest changes the earth ever knew; and from the wretched, ha assed-down, broken hearted little band of bleeding patriots, whose inevitable destiny appeared to die gloriously, like Leonidas with his Spartans, they had beheld their country magnified into a greatness that was felt in the remotest parts of the earth. It was enough. Their eyes was blessed. They had looked forward to that day with prayer and impatience. "et us but breathe the sacred air of that day," they said, "and then, God of Nature, take us to thyself." The guardian angels of the good wafted the petition to the throne of heaven, and all the beings. of earth, ocean, and air, smiled upon them as they passed. It seemed that the universe paused in anxiety to behold the fate

of the mission-the success of which darted a gleam of Joy through myriads. The two have reached the gratification of their souls' dearest wish; and as they joyfully travelled the gloomy abyss of death, it was irradiated with a gleam of glory.

Language is scarcely capable of expressing the feelings which must have contributed to the dissolution of these two celebrated men. It is one of those singular coincidences which will sometimes occur to strengthen the opinions of the wildest enthusiast, and inflame the imagination of the young and ardent. The sceptic is unconsciously lulled into a moment of transitory inspiration. The philosopher, flinging down his book of rules and figures, allows himself to be born away in the gentle current of feeling and of faith: and the devotee hails it as a direct interposition of Providence, with all the hallowed delight with which the doubtful lover treasures the few sweet smiles which his mistres has bestowed.

Great respect has been paid to their memories. We are glad of it. The nation should mourn, and our children should be taught how much virtue and talents like theirs is and ought to be admired. The solemnities of a pompous funeral service on such an occasion, is sometimes bitterly criticised by the great thinker who has not thought the right way. He coldly wonders why such parade should celebrate the departure of two old men who have been enabled to serve their country? But the more liberal, perceive the effect which this has upon the nation. Feeling of this kind should be kept alive. It forms an air in which meanness and cowardice cannot exist. The youthful mind, from the enchantments of processions, music, statues, pictures, and orations, receives a tinge of enthusiasin which ornaments while it purifies the character. It is naturally led to a consideration of the virtues of those to celebrate whose memories is spread out all this splendid pageantry, and from the inherent desire of praise and love of virtue, it adopts them as models of virtue, to be remembered in the coldness of age with something of youth's fervour, and to be imitated when the original actor has been long quiet in his grave. At page 143, in describing the famous Canal Celebration, the author has referred the reader to this place for the copy of an ode, written for that occasion; printed on a moveable press, and distributed to the populace, as it passed along the streets in the splendid procession before described.

ODE

FOR THE

CANAL CELEBRATION,

WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF THE PRINTERS OF

NEW-YORK:

BY MR. SAMUEL WOODWORTH, PRINTER

'Tis done! 'tis done!—The mighty chain Which joins bright ERIE to the MAIN, For ages, shall perpetuate

The glory of our native State.

'Tis done!-Proud ART o'er NATURE has prevailed! GENIUS and PERSEVERANCE has succeeded! Though selfish PREJUDICE assailed,

And honest PRUDENCE pleaded.

'Tis done!-The monarch of the briny tide, Whose giant arm encircles earth,

To virgin ERIE is allied,

A bright-eyed nymph of mountain birth,

To-day, the Sire of Ocean takes

A sylvan maiden to his arms,
The Goddess of the crystal lakes,
In all her native charms!

She comes! attended by a sparkling train;
The Naiads of the West her nuptials grace;

She meets the sceptred father of the main,
And in his heaving bosom hides her virgin face.

Rising from their watery cells,

Tritons sport upon the tide,
And gaily blow their trumpet shells,

in honor of the bride.

Sea-nymphs leave their coral caves,
Deep beneath the ocean waves,
Where they string, with tasteful care,
Pearls upon the sea-green hair.

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Thetis' virgin train advances, Mingling in the bridal dances, Jove, himself, with raptured eye, Throws his forked thunders by, And bids Apollo seize his golden lyre,

A strain of joy to wake;

While Fame Proclaims that Ocean's Sire

Is wedded to the goddess of the Lake.
The smiling god of songs obeys,

And heaven re-echos with his sounding lays.

"All hail to the ART which unshackles the soul! And fires it with love of glory!

And causes the victor, who reaches the goal,
To live in deathless story!

"Which teaches young Genius to rise from earth, On Fancy's airy pinion,

To assert the claims of its heavenly birth,
And seize on its blest dominion.

"The ART which the banner of Truth unfurl'd,
When darkness veil'd each nation,
And prompted Columbus to seek a new world
On the unexplored map of creation.

"Which lighted the path of the pilgrim band,
Who braved the storms of Ocean,
To seek, in a wild and distant land,
The freedom of pure devotion.

"Which kindled, on Freedom's shrine, a flame
That will glow through future ages,

And cover with glory and endless fame
Columbia's immortal sages.

"The ART which enabled her FRANKLIN to prove,

And solve, each mystic wonder!

To arrest the forked shafts of Jove,
And play with his bolts of thunder.

"The ART, which enables her sons to aspire,
Beyond all the wonders in story;

For an unshackled PRESS is the pillar of fire,
Which lights them to Freedom and Glory.

""Tis this which call'd forth the immortal decrees And gave the great work its first motion;

"Tis done! by the hands of the brave and free,
And ERIE is link'd to the Ocean.

"Then hail to the ART which unshackles the soul,
And fires it with love of glory,

And causes the victor who reaches the goal,
To live in deathless story."

Such strains-if earthly strains may be
Compared to his who tunes a heavenly lyre-
Are warbled by the bright-haired deity,
While list'ning orbs admire.

Such strains shall unborn millions yet awake,
While, with her golden trumpet smiling Fame
Proclaims the union of the Main and Lake,

And on her scroll emblazons CLINTON's name,

The foregoing ODE was printed on a moveable stage, on the 4th day of November, 1825, during the Procession in honour of the completion of the Grand Western Canal.

Since the author's enumeration of adjacent villages, page 146, that of Yorkville, on Harlem Commons, has been added to the number, and is in a very flourishing condition.

By reference to page 148, it will be seen, that an error has occurred respecting the freezing of our rivers. In the winter of 1819-20, the Hudson was, for several days, passable on the ice, from this city to New Jersey; and even booths for refreshments were erected on the middle of the river.

Since the printing of page 163, the African Church in Elmstreet, has been purchased by the Jews, converted to a Synagogue, and fitted up in a very elegant style.

The Rev. Mr. Shaeffer is no longer pastor of the New Lutheran Church in Walker-street, as stated in page 165. Owing to some dissensions in the Church, with the merits of which we are totally unacquainted, he withdrew from his charge, and was followed by a large proportion of his flock, to whom some unknown individual has made a present of the commodious edifice where they now worship in Orange-street.

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