“Grant Thorburn, Of New York.” Georgian, vol. XII, no. 199, 31 July 1830, p. [2]. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers. Accessed 19 Aug. 2026.
The individual the subject of the following article in the Lawrie Todd of Mr. GALT.
GRANT THORBURN, OF NEW YORK.—From the Boston Evening Gazette.
We made a visit to Thorburn’s establishment, in New York. The building was an old Quaker meeting house, and the galleries are still preserved. This large room is crowded with seeds of all sorts for fields and gardens—the necessary, the useful, and the ornamental are here. This is not all—a thousand little curious matters are found in this collection, and all seem to have a sort of appropriateness given to them by the singular character of the owner. He is, indeed, a curiosity. His countenance is full of animation, and his eyes sparkle with intelligence.
As he leads you among his birds and his plants, or shows you his gold fishes, delighted as you are by the singing of hundreds of Canaries, with mocking birds, black birds, and others of the sweetest notes, you can never lose sight of the man for his history is commingled with it all—and he relates it not only with liveliness, but with neatness, grace and fascination. He came to this country from Scotland, poor,—and he is now rich, and the secret of his strength is industry and integrity. He shows you the little hammer which he used on his arrival at New York, and by which he earned his dinner before he ate it, (he was a Nail maker.)
In his room is a head of Thomas Paine, which gives him a good opportunity to make many fine remarks upon infidelity, which he always improves—and it must be confessed by all unbelievers that there is much good practical sense in his observations on this subject. By way of contrast to the Infidel’s portrait, he shows you a small table, which had been used seventy years as a family table for daily meals by his parents, and there never rested on it a single cake or viand, on which a blessing had not been implored—nor did the aged old man and his spouse, ever rise from it without sincere and solemn thanks to the bestower of all good gifts for his mercies—and this is more than a great many men practice—for, says Thorburn, they never thank God for any thing.— This little man is sometimes truly eloquent—in giving an account of his visit to his parents in Scotland, after an absence of twenty-six years, he seldom fails to draw tears from his auditors.
He found his parents, and brothers and sisters alive—the house, the room, the same furniture, with the eight-day clock all remained the same and time had only made a few marks on those near and dear to him, but had not changed their hearts—they beat as affectionately as ever—silent tears, (not tongues) spoke what they reciprocally felt. The son had gone to a new world a wanderer, pennyless, and a stranger—but with good and sound principles, and a father’s blessing—and had, after twenty-six years, returned a man, worthy and respectable—a comfort to his aged parents, and the pride of all his kindred and friends. It is a treat to find such a man as Grant Thorburn:—who is at once active, industrious, polite, pious, affectionate, charitable and exemplary—one who teaches excellent lessons of wisdom in an admirable manner.