the names are the old familiar ones which he has been accustomed to in the social circles of his home, or on the signs along the streets of New York or London, viz.: the Smiths, (a large family in Liberia as everywhere else in Anglo-Saxondom,) and their broods of cousins, the Johnsons, Thompsons, Robinsons, and Jacksons; then the Browns, the Greens, the [paradoxical] Whites, and the [real] Blacks; the Williamses, Jameses, Paynes, Draytons, Gibsons, Roberts, Yates, Warners, Wilsons, Moores, and that of his Excellency, President Benton.
Not only names, but titles also are equally significant, and show a like origin. The streets are Broad, and Ashmun, and as here, Griswold. The public buildings are a Church, a Seminary, a Senate, and a Court House.
If our visitor enters the residence of a thriving, thoughtful citizen, the same peculiarity strikes him. Every thing, however humble, is of the same Anglo-Saxon type and stamp. On the book-shelves or tables, are Bibles, Prayer or Hymn Books, Hervey's Meditations or Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Young's Night Thoughts or Cowper's Poems, Walter Scott's Tales, or Uncle Tom's Cabin. In many places he will find well-used copies of Shakspeare and Milton. Not a few have enriched themselves with the works of Spenser and Wordsworth, Coleridge and Campbell, Longfellow and Bryant, Whittier and Willis, and of that loftiest of all the bards of the day, Alfred Tennyson. Should it happen to be a mail-day, or the "Stevens" has just glided into our waters, he would find at the Post Office, papers from America and En-
