P R E F A СЕ. MR. HUNTER has well remarked, in his eloquent Oration, that "the feeling which in the individual is selfish vanity, diffused and generalised by a community, becomes patriotism," and that "the people of Rhode-Island have a peculiar right to indulge in a State pride." This right will be admitted when it is remembered that in the history of the race, Rhode-Island presents the first instance of a State founded on the broad principles of spiritual freedom, without which, political freedom is but a mockery. Athens was a Democracy when Socrates drank the hemlock, and Rome had scarcely relinquished her title of The Republic, when in one of her provinces, the populace shouted “Crucify him! crucify him!” Neither Greece, Rome, nor the nations of modern Europe had grasped the sublime idea of intellectual liberty, and the glory of founding the first State on this principle remained for an obscure exile on the shores of Narraganset Bay. An eloquent historian has said, "If Copernicus is held in perpetual reverence because, on his death-bed, he published to the world that the sun is the centre of our system, if the genius of Newton has been almost adored for dissecting a ray of light and weighing heavenly bodies as in a balance, let there be for the name of Roger Williams at least, some humble place among those who have advanced moral science, and made themselves benefactors of mankind." But if we reverence the names of those who have read for us the mysteries of the visible heavens, shall we not reverence more, him who would unbind the fetters that for centuries have cramped the human mind, and shackled the conscience, that connecting link between God and man, and open for us the avenues to the very Heaven of heavens? We say, then, let there be for the name of Roger Williams an exalted place,—an illuminated page in the history of Humanity. Rhode Island has proved herself worthy of her illustrious founder. In the revolutionary struggle, she was first in the field—and renounced her allegiance to Great-Britain two months before the Declaration of Independence by Congress. The idea of a navy was first suggested in her General Assembly; she furnished two of of the four ships that composed the first American fleet,—many of the officers, and the first and only Admiral. And we need not say how the gallant Perry and his brave Newport followers, sustained on Lake Erie, the honor of that which their fathers had so well begun. It was thought that the floating literature of Rhode-Island contained much that was worthy of preservation; and to give to such passages a “local habitation," has been the object of this publication. From circumstances that could not be controlled, many distinguished names have been omitted; and it is believed that another year, a similar and equally interesting collection might be prepared. To THE CITIZENS OF RHODE ISLAND THIS VOLUME IS RE SPECTFULLY DEDICATED, BY THE Providence, Dec. 1, 1840. EDITOR. THE RHODE-ISLAND BOOK. INTRODUCTION TO WHATCHEER. A POEM. BY THE HON. JOB DURFEE. (Addressed to the Rev. Romeo Elton.) WHAT time, dear ELTON, we were wont to rove, Hear barbarous voices still our Founder hail; But soon the brittle dream of youth was gone, You, at the shrine of peace and glory shone; I, upon life's tempestuous billows thrown A little bark before the tempest drivenStrove for a time the surging tide to breast, And up its rolling mountains sought for rest. Wearied, at length, with the unceasing strife, To mad ambition's heartless rivalry; No longer venturing for exalted life, (For storms and quicksands have no charms for me,) I, in the listless labors of the swain, Provoke no turmoil, and awake no pain. To drive the team afield, and guide the plough, The lambkins sport, and brindled oxen feed, And when stern winter breathes the chilling storm, And sate their hunger from the gathered store; Of childhood lovelier than the vernal flower, Partake its harmless glee and prattle gay, Thus were the numbers taught at first to flow, Scarce conscious that they bore a tale alongBeneath my hand still would the pages grow― They were not labor but the joy of song Still every line would unsung beauties shew My thoughts spontaneous sought the embodying rhyme. The winds of March o'er Narraganset's bay Move in their strength-the waves with foam are white, O'er Seekonk's tide the waving branches play, The woods roar o'er resounding plain and height; "Twixt sailing clouds, the sun's inconstant ray But glances on the scene-then fades from sight; Dissolving snows each downward channel fill, |