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D IIUGIIE?. «,,• -E r»yi>5 t •v/w-ajf -r^yt -ff^C^^ ■f*'^-''- -,'»*'^^;tK-T*V;/F" "}''*'' 1 — >-, T- ^•■^■S'TVB^.^j-irtl ■pi-.v mmifmimmmm ■will .iiiLiiipinipippim / <^2--t.«^^ wevfm^m^ 'liiiPiPiPliiilllPRP' UM' ■'' '■:mmw ^ MEN AND MANNERS IN A ME EI C A. BY THOMAS HAMILTON, ESQ., AUTHOR OF CVRIL THORNTON, ETC. A NEW EDIi JON, WITH A POKTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR, AND LETTKKS WRITTEN BV HIM DUBINO HIS JOURNEY THROUOH THE U.MTEO STATES. loiu oiarsx x«i !/o'ov iyua. WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH AND LONDON. M.DCCC.XLin. ■m^m? S^s(^l CONTENTS. ADVERTISEMENT LETTERS . . " . DEDICATION .... Chap. I.— VOYAC -NEW YORK II.— NEW YORK . • . . III.— NEW YORK— HUDSON RIVER IV.— NEW YORK .... v.— NEW YORK VI.— VOYAGE— PROVIDENCE-BOSTON VII.— BOSTON .... VIII,— NEW ENGLAND IX.— NEW YORK X.— PHILADELPHIA XI PHILADELPHIA . XII.— JOURNEY— BALTIMORE— WASHINGTON XIII.— AMERICAN CONSTITUTION XIV.— AMERICAN CONGRESS XV.— AVASHINGTON XVI.— JOURNEY TO NEW ORLEANS . XVII— NEW ORLEANS XVIIL— JOURNEY TO CHARLESTOWN XIX.— JOURNEY TO NIAGARA— THE FALLS XX.— JOURNEY TO QUEBEC XXI,-JOURNEY TO NEW YORK PAOE Vil ix xxxi 1 13 .'54 43 58 7ni 109 135 15fi 190 215 22U 251 264 296 313 339 358 387 414 432 ADVERTISEMENT. iii" Tins being the first edition of any of Mr Hamilton's Works published since his death, it was intended to have annexed a Biographical Memoir of the Author. The execution of this intention has, however, been post- poned, in consequence of the documents from which such a Memoir would derive its more authentic mate- rials and principal interest, being for the present inac- cessible. The Portrait, from which an engraving is prefixed, was taken when Mr Hamilton Avas under thirty. It is by John Watson Gordon, and an excellent likeness. As to the following Letters — they were written to near relations during the author's residence in America. They are here given, principally because they exhibit, without reserve, the impressions as first made on him by men and things in the course of his journey ; and because they "llpil' Vlll AEVERTISEMENT. prove, that subsequently, in his book, he did all h( could, without a compromise of truth, to soften the expression of those opinions which he originally found himself con- strained to form of manners and political institutions in the United States. In these he might not always be right ; assuredly he was always sincere. The first edition of " Men and Manners in America" was published in 1833. April, 1843. could, •ession If coii- ons in lys be erica" LETTERS. To Sir William Hamilton, Bart. Ship New York, at Sea, about 100 miles from New York, 12tli November 1830. My dear Brother — I think you will be glad to hear of my having got safely to New York, which, by God's blessing, we shall do to-morrow, after a fine passage of thirty days. We are now running directly down on the American coast, with a fine easterly wind ; but, as I hear the packet sails for England the day after our arrival, I think it better to write now, as I shall be very "busy on landing. Though the first three weeks of our passage w^as very stoimy, I have stood it very well on the whole ; but all my limbs feel terribly cramped for want of exer- cise, and my fingers, as you may perceive, almost refuse their ofiice. Poor Alexander is a much worse sailor than myself, and told me, after we had been tossed about for a day or two, that he had a veiy great regard for me, but that, if he had known what he was to endure, no power would have ever brought him across the Atlantic. There are twenty-six passengers on board; about seven- teen or eighteen of whom are Americans, five, Scotch- men. All has been harmony, however, on board, and the Americans have been most civil and profuse in their offers of ^ervice mmmm X LETTERS. 19th November, New York. My dear William — Notwithstanding the anticipa- tions of arrival which I expressed in the preceding part of this letter, we did not get in till yesterday. We had on the evening of the day I wrote a violent gale of wind, which made it necessary to stand off from the coast ; and when we at length approached it, it was veiled from us by fogs so dense us to render it impossible to do any thing but keep our ground till these should disperse. After four days this was the case. The mist suddenly rolled upward like a curtain, and we saw the shore of America outstretched before us. The bay of New York is beautiful. The city very good. The people are most civil, and I am already quite overwhelmed by visits and invitations. All this, though in some resi)ects gratify- ing, is unpleasant. Nature never meant me for the part I am now compelled to play — that of a lion. I shall be here about eight days, and then go on to Boston, where I certainly shall not remain above a week. God bless you, my dear William ! I have nothing to add to the requests contained in the preceding part of this letter. Again, kind love to Janet, And believe me ever Your affectionate Brother, T. Hamilton. To Lady Hamilton. Phii.adf.m'hia, 24th January 1831. My dear Janet— I wrote William from New York on my arrival, and I have been somewhat disappointed at not having heard from, Scotland during all the time that has ehipser! since. .' . . . I will now tell you all about my own movements. Whatever I am at home, LETTERS. XI une. I assure you I am a very considerable person here; and the kindness and attentions I receive from all the better order of Americans is far beyond any thing I ever expect- ed. * Cyril Thornton' here is much better known than at home, having passed through four editions ; and there is now an edition of the ' Annals' printing in this city, public curiosity, I presume, having been excited by the presence of the author. After three weeks spent at New York on my first arrival, I went northward to Boston, by Pro- vidence, where I spent a day. At Boston my recep- tion was equally flattering. Every body was anxious to oblige ; and I passed a fortnight there very pleasantly indeed. Tell William I met an old friend of his, Mr Ticknor, now professor at Cambridge, who was most kind and assiduous in his attentions. He is very rich, and has one of the best libraries in the Uhited Statesi Mr Everett was gone to Washington, having cut the church and professorship, and become a member of Congress. I shall see him at Washington. Cogswell has left Boston, and keeps an academy somewhere in the interior. Everett's brother, lately ambassador in Spain, and now editor of the N. A. Review, I met and became acquainted with. Well, I quitted Boston in the midst of a snow-storm, and set out, on my return to New York, by a different route. The second day the snow was so deep that we were obliged to exchange our coach for a sleigh, which is a much more plepsant mode of travelling whei the snow is deep and has not drifted. Three days' hard journey brought us back to New Yorkr It was unpleasant travelling, for the ther- mometer stood fifteen degrees below zero ; an intensity of cold to which we h?.ve no parallel in Scotland. Well, at New York I again remained ten days, and expe- rienced no diminution of former kindness, though the gloss of my novelty must have been worn off". I then came on here, over the most execrable roads I ever saw. Philadelphia I do not like so much as Boston or Xll LETTERS. New York ; yet I have no reason to complain, and do not. But, in truth, I was a little spoiled before I came here. The manners of the people here are not pleasant. There is a Quaker coldness about them, and less of that heartiness and cordiality with which I have hitherto been so much pleased. It was to this place that the great strength of my introductions lay — nearly all those from Walter Stirling ; yet, though the people are kind, I am by no means devoured here, and am sometimes allowed to take " my pleasure in mine inn," which I was not suffered to do elsewhere. I have been here nearly three weeks, and have been for a week past anxious to be off to Baltimore and Washington ; but the roads are obstructed with an enormous fall of snow, which has drifted into impenetrable masses, and it is again snowing to-night as heavily as I ever saw it ; so, when I may get off I do not know. This is annoying ; for, as Congress is sitting, Washington is th*^ great centre of attraction to me, and more time spent here is time lost. Early in February I must be off for New Orleans, to get there before the unhealthy season ; and I must spend a week at Baltimore, and a fortnight at least at Washington. In point of health I have had no reason to complain ; having been free from all ail- ments, save one attack of ague which I have had here. However, as there has been no return, I must not grumble. By the by, I was astonished to see the changes of ministry that have taken place at home. The ignorance of the people here with regard to Eng- land is extreme. They all calculate on a revolution, and expect accounts of it by every packet. The non- sense one is obliged to listen to, with regard to their own country, is one of the annoyances of an English traveller in America. Tell William I was rather an- noyed than otherwise at the review of 'Cyril Thornton* in the Edinburgh. If the man meant to cut up, he should have hit harder ; if he meant to elicit thanlts ■SH LETTERS. XIU from me, he should have praised better. There is only one of his criticisms, I think, well founded. In all the others I adhere deliberately to my own taste and judg- ment in preference to his. I am already sadly tired of this life, though my troubles and difficulties have not yet begun. The view I take of the American consti- tution is most unfavourable. I shall come home more of a Tory than I went out. In writing of the Ameri- cans — should I ever do so — I see I shall be hampered terribly by my sense of their kindness. Captain Hall is here the object of general detestation ; I shall most likely be so too. The most educated class of Ameri- cans are very good ; the less so, detestable and dis- gusting. Then their habits — tobacco -chewing, and eternal spitting! They must be cut up. Alexander makes a tolerable servant, though now somewhat too familiar with his master. The people here tell him all his countrymen are slaves ; and the idiot came to me to ask if this v^ere so or not. I told him it was a lie, and that it was a duty he owed to his king and country to kick the first man that told him so. I have not heard whether he has given any a posteriori proofs of his loyalty and patriotism. Now, God bless you all ! Write to me, my dear Janet, and let William write as often as you and he feel inclined. It cannot be too often for me. Ever your affectionate brother, T. Hamilton. To DuGALD Bannatyne, Esq. Washington, 15th Feb. 1831. My dear Uncle — I am going to bore you with a long letter, less fr, n any expectation that you will receive any pleasure from it, than from the gratification it affords me to write it — which is selfish enough. But, at the XIV LETTERS. same time, I do hope and believe you feel some interest about me ; and therefore trust that the following detail of facts and opinions, formed and occurring during my journey, may not be wholly without interest to you. I arrived in the U. S. about the middle of November, after a very tolerable passage. My reception every where in this country has not only been most cordial, but most flattering. My books I found were well known on this side the Atlantic, and ' Cyril Thornton' had pass- ed through no less than four editions; so I am a bit of a lion, and the object of much more notice than is desir- able to one who would rather look on the world around him from a corner, than be, as I fear I am here, the ob- served of all observers. Some advantage, however, I have derived even from this unpleasant notoriety. My society has been courted by the greatest men America can boast, and I have, in consequence, moved in a circle to which, without some literary celebrity, I should hove found it very difficult, if not impossible, to have obtain- ed access. But of this enough. My motions have been as follows : — I first arrived at New York ; after a stay of three weeks I went on to Boston ; a fortnight passed there very pleasantly. I then returned to New York, where I again spent ten days ; from thence I j)roceeded south- ward to Philadelphia, to which I devoted three weeks. One week was enough for Baltimore ; and I have now been just a fortnight in Washington. Mr Vaughan, our minister, has been most kind and attentive, and whenever I have no engagement I dine with him. He has done every thing in his power for me, and is one of the most delightful companions I know. Two days ago I was presented to the President. I was prepared for a good deal of form, but there was none. I was intro- duced precisely as I should be to any private individual ; and, after shaking hands, sat chatting with him, alone, for more than half an hour. The impression I made, I ■■ . i M'l m LETTERS. xy hope, was not unfavourable, for I dine with him to-mor- row — an honour not frequently accorded to my country- men. Perhaps you would like to know about him. He is, then, a very decent-looking old gentleman, something like a country minister in Scotland, and kind, though somewhat vulgar, in manner. He chews tobacco, and kept rolling an enormous quid about in his mouth, and squirting his saliva on the carpet, which, round his chair, was really covered with a fluid of the most disgusting description. We talked of the revolution in Poland, and the state of France; and the old gentleman's ideas, I confess, did not strike me as very luminous, or evinciiig any great extent of political knowledge. He makes sad mistakes, too, in grammar, and asked me about my ser- vitude in the army, This rather foolishly touched my pride, and I even felt half inclined to reply that an English oflficer, though he may see service, can never know servitude. Indeed, the general has a good deal of the Malaprop blood in his veins ; but what puzzled me most was to conceive, that a person so very mild and pleasant, and even benevolent in manner, could be the savage and ferocious duellist who, on several occasions, killed his antagonist as he would a dog. The house was dirty, and gave you the impression of a large, ill-fur- nished, and ill-kept hotel. His servants, with the excep- tion of an Irish footman, are all slaves ! From Mr Van Buren, the Secretary of State, I have received great attention, and have dined twice with him. He is cer- tainly a clever man, and I can easily believe that the charge made against him here, of having too much po- litical cunning, is true. If not, my penetration is at fault. Eaton, the Secretary for the War Department, is a very inferior person. Nothing brought him into office but his being the personal friend of Jackson. He certainly, whatever his other accomplishments may bo, cannot write English. The Vice-President, Mr Calhoun, is unquestionably a man of considerable talent, XVI LETTERS. m and as unquestionably a very pleasant one in society. Through his favour, I am admitted into the body of the house whenever I go to the senate. Jackson and he are at daggers-drawing ; and he will oppose Clay and Van Buren for the next presidency, though, I believe, without much chance of success. Jackson's re-election is considered certain by all south of New York. But the most delightful person I know is Mr Edward Liv- ingston, Senator for Louisiana. He has just succeeded in drawing up a new criminal code for that State. No one, I should imagine, is better qualified for such a task. I spend some part of nearly every day with him, and shall always be proud to call him friend. He wants me to write a story illustrative of the evils of punish- ment hy death, to which, as a philanthropist, he is strenuously opposed. Mr Webster of Boston is, how- ever, the great man of the day. I know him intimately, but have not yet heard him speak on any occasion fitted to draw out his powers. The impression he has made by his speeches of last session is very great throughout the Union. I never saw a countenance on which great talent and acuteness were more legibly imprinted. His eye is one of peculiar power. He and Livingston are the ordy two Americans I have yet met who understand our constitution, not only in its prominent features but in its under workings, or who understand English feel- ings with regard to it. What strikes an Englishman in my situation as most strange, is the entire freedom of intercourse to which he is admitted with such indi- viduals as those I have described. They have none of the oJHcial reserve to which at home we are accustomed, and even seem to court occasions of talking politics with you. The best-informed Americans even speak to me with greater freedom than they woidd do to their own countrymen ; and thus I have had the best and surest channels of information open to me in every city I have yet visited. It may seem strange, but so it is. ■*:'.. LETTERS. XVll that lu this free country a large body, and these the best-informed and most intellectual of the people, dare not publicly avow their political principles. The Fe- deralist party, you know, is annihilated. I had the curiosity to ask some of its most enlightened supporters whether the opinions they formerly advocated were really changed, and, if not, why they did not publicly assert thorn. The answer was, " Our opinions are un- changed; but such is the state of things here, that were it even suspected by the people that we enter- tained them, we should he proscribed men — men excluded utterly from public life, and every object of honourable .ambition, and liable in a thousand ways to petty but galling persecution. Such is the state of things in this country, that we dare not state our honest convictions to the world." " Good God ! " I could not help ex- claiming, " can it be possible that in this country of free institutions, in republican America, a despotism so degrading can exist ? In England every man is free to form his own opinions, and free to express them. A man is not branded there because the opinions he enter- tains are not the opinions of the mob. In one Parliament you will find every shade of jiolitical opinion, from the highest Toryism to the most lightly veiled republican- ism ; and each has its eliamj)ions and apostles, who sup- port their views openly and manfully." It is not so here. No man can even enter public life without first truckling to the mob, and too often paltering with his conscience. He must profess — often falsely profess — to entertain all the prejudices of the ignorant men by whom he is elected. He goes to Congress with a halter round his neck. Let him dare to difi'er from them by one hair's-breadth, and ho is kicked out, and his hopes- blighted for ever. Every man in Congi-css must and does profess himself a democrat, though he may be at heart a monarchist. In short, he must lie in his throat ; and the result is, that there is a regularly understood h XVUl LETTERS. system of deception, which I cannot bring myself eitlier ! to tolerate or admire. No man of high principles and honourable pride can enter public life in this country. The whole members of Congress (the exceptions are very few) are attorneys, many of them low, ignorant, and :^ contemptible pettifoggers. I declare most solemnly, thct I have never yet met with any man in this country whose opinions could carry with them any weight, who was not decidedly of opinion that the system of govern- ment here is in many respects a decided failure. It is a mistake to call it a free government. It is a despotism of the most degrading kind — the despotism of a mob. It is most unfavourable to the development of mind. Men here are judged of by a lower standard than in England ; and | this standard, both in regard to knowledge and manners, is becommg lower every generation. The crop of young men now coming forward is decidedly more vulgar and more ignorant than the preceding ; and what, in God's name ! shall we say or think of institutions which cause men to retrograde in the scale of civilization ? In Eng- land every generation, taken in the mass, is better edu- cated than its predecessor. A young man coming into Parliament now, comes armed with a mass of knowledge of which his father knew nothing ; and thus our stand- ard is progr'^ssively becoming higher, while that of Ame- rica is sinking. But it is the fashion to call the Ameri- can people a sensible people. I wish those who think them so could only spend a fortnight at Washington, and listen to the empty, frothy, and interminable speeches which are daily uttered in the Capitol. A man in our Parliament generally speaks because he has something to say; and, if he has not, the House will not listen to him. A far different rule, however, prevails among this sen- sible people. The demand here is not for thoughts but words ; and I must say the market is well supplied. It is impossible to visit the Senate and House of Represen- tatives, (less, however, the former than the latter,) and to LETTERS. XIX ? myself either I principles and \ I this country, ptions are very j ignorant, andi nost solemnly, n this country y weight, who em ofgovern- failure. It is a despotism of >f a mob. It is ^d. Men here England ; and and manners, crop of young re vulgar and 'hat, in God's s which cause 3n ? In Eng- is better edu- i coming into of knowledge us our stand- that of Ame- II the Amen- de who think Washington, ible speeches i- man in our something to isten to him. ng this sen- thoughts but upplied. It >f Represen- itter,) and to [bridle one's contempt for these legislative bodies. It is [astonishing to see how little wisdom is required to go- jvem America. Then the universal attempt at eloquence, or rather the profusion of tawdry and unmeaning suf- [tian which here passes for eloquence ! And, after hav- > ing listened for several hours to a poor idiot vapouring forth his long string of little nothings — the accouche- ment of a mind never impregnated — to hear the silly effusion lauded as a masterpiece of eloquence, and to ' be asked whether our Parliament can produce any thing to equal it! It cannot indeed. But all the better in- formed men here speak with contempt of th ir legisla- tive bodies, and their mode of doing business ; and most ; surely not without reason. I only wish every Radical in . England could be condemned to spend a year in America; V and if he is not, in less than that time, utterly cured, he may be set down as hopeless. You see, my dear uncle. I am not now so strong a Whig as when I left England. I do confess, I regard the spirit now abroad in that coun- try with great alarm ; and entertaining the conscientious convictions I now do, I shall endeavour at least, on my return, to open the eyes of my countrymen to the real state of things in this country, and draw their most se- rious attention to the result of an experiment made here under the most favourable circumstances. Mr * said to me the other day, in talking about England, "De- pend upon it, if ever you introduce Universal Suffrage and Voting by Ballot into your elections, you do, ipso facto, introduce revolution. You may make something better ; of that I do not speak. I only say it will be different ; and that the constitution of which you boast 80 much, and which the worl^ has admired for centuries, wUl be gone." In this I most v^ordially agree. Altering one part of the constitution is like altering one part of the works of a watch. Every other part of the machin- * The name is given in the original. XX LET'iERS. ery must be altered and adapted to the change. " Situ- ated as your country is," Mr went on to say, " with the great majority of your population without property of any sort, I can only say, that if you place the power in their hands — as you certainly will, when- ever, by the introduction of ballot, you annihilate the influence of property — they must be great fools, and act in opposition to all the received principles of human nature, if they do not proceed to a division of property," You have no idea how these men here laugh when they hear of you quoting the state of things here as an ex- ample for England. The safety in this country, and the onli/ safety, consists in the fact, that the great majo- rity of the population are possessed of property, and that it is therefore their interest to keep things as they are. But as population becomes more dense in the Atlantic States, and the scope for advantageous migration nar- rowed ; and when this country shall succeed in having, what they are now attempting to have, a large manu- facturing population without any property but the labour of their hands, then will come the struggle, then will be the trial of this democratic constitution of which people talk so much. If the mass of the people here were situ- ated as the mass of the English people are, a division of property would take place to-morrow. But how do things stand here even now ? Why, New York is the only spot where any thing like a redundant population is to be found ; and there, even now, there is an organ- ized body of the people who proclaim themselves the ad- vocates of an Agrarian law. Of course this body will increase ; all the needy and profligate men in the coun- try will join it, and, like an avalanche, it will gain strength as it rolls onward in its course. I myself saw large placards stuck upon the walls, stating the demands of the workies, as they call themselves, in opposition to the richer classes. One of these de- mands was " Equal and universal education ;" or, in LETTERS. XXI 3 as an ex- dther words, demanding that the richer classes should be reduced in point of knowledge to the level of the labouring class. But was not this to be expected ? The mob hate an aristocracy of any kind — an aristocracy of knowledge or virtue, as much as an aristocracy of rank or wealth. The man who labours with his hands can- not be raised to an equality of knowledge with those who have greater wealth and time to bestow on its acquisition. It is therefore the object of the workies to reduce the knowledge of the rich to the level of that of the poor. Such is the state of things here. Is there any thing so enviable in it that we should imitate it ? Are we prepared to retrograde in the scale of civiliza- tion? I trust in God not. I trust in God that the reform in Parliament, whir^ is now inevitable, will be confined to the rectifying acknowledged abuses, and leave the great principles and landmarks of our consti- tution untouched. But I fear otherwise. What a bore you must think me, my dear uncle ; but I like to state my opinions to you, for you will tell me when you thir^k me wrong. God knows, I did not come out here pre- judiced against this people or their institutions. I had always been a Whig ; and if, as my views have become more extended and matured, I change my opinions, I cannot help it. The people I shall always like. Their kindness I never can forget ; but as for their govern- ment I shall remain here about a week longer, and then go southward to New Orleans, and return by the Missis- sippi and Ohio. I then shall run down to Montreal and Quebec, and thence return to New York, to embark Tor EngLnd probably in October. Such are my plans. It is now more than time to speak of you; yet, what at this distance can I say but that I do most sincerely trust that you are all well ? The winter here has been most severe ; frost for the last six weeks ; and the ground^ during all that period, jome feet deep in snow. Pray, xxu LETTERS. remember me very kindly to my aunt and cousins. I have enjoyed perfect health since my arrival in the U. S. ; but am sutject to occasional depression of spirits, which are very distressing. But this is nothing. Now f irewell, my dear uncle ; if it please God that I return home from my travels, I shall trust to find you all well at Birkenshaw ; better than I wish, you cannot be. I have not received one letter from Scotland since I left it. Believe me, My Dear Uncle, Your affectionate Nephew, T. Hamilton. To Sir William Hamilton, Bart. Nbw Orleans, 18th March 1831 . My dear William — I do not know how often I have written to you and Janet since my arrival in this country; but I know that I have not received one scrap of writ- ing from Scotland since I left it, now five months ago. Indeed, the only letter I have received at all has been one from Lady Lucy. I suppose, however, that you or Janet have written, and that I shall receive the letter somewhere. If it was addressed New York, it will cer- tainly reach me. I f'o not say any thing about all the changes of ministry, &c., which have taken place since I left home, though these are most interesting ; because any thing I could say a,, this distance would be mere fudge. I trust in God, however, all will turn out for the best ; but I see and have seen so much of the curse of democracy in this country, that, I confess, I do fear reform may be carried too far. But I will let you know about myself and my movements. I think I last wrote you from Philadelphia. My next resting-place was Baltimore, and from thence I went on to Washing- LETTERS. XX'll ousins. I in the U. of spirits, ing. Now it I return )u all well not be. I iince I left lew, MILTON. arch 1831. 'ten I have is country : ip of writ- onths ago. I has been hat you or the letter t will cer- 'Ut all the ice since I ; because ' be mere n out for the curse 1 do fear I let you ink I last iing-place Washing- ^W: ton. Of course, that was the chief seat of interest tc a stranger. Vaughan, our minister, was most kind, and procured me instant admission to the diplomatic circle ; of course, the best in the place. Besides, however, I was armed with letters from my friends in Boston, New York, &c., to all the prominent men in Congress ; and I must say, nothing could be more kind than they Jill were. I was presented to the President, General Jackson, about whom, I dare say, you recollect Mat- thews's song. There was little or no form. He bid me take a chair beside him, and I sat above half an hour chatting with the old gentleman very comfortably. He makes sad havoc of the king's English, asked v/hether I had seen much "servitude," &c. &c. He told me he was always at home of an evening, and would be glad to see me when I chose to drop in. I received, the day following, an invitation to dinner, which, being engaged unfortunately to Mr Van Buren, the Secretary of State, I could not accept. I did, however, call one evening. The President was gone up stairs with a headache. I sent up my card with my respects, and he came down. The conversation for the first quarter of an hour was about the state of his bov:els, the failure of calomel, the success of salts, &c. &e. We then got on European po- litics, on which all he said was common-place enough. He then talked of American politics, and some debates which had recently taken place in the Senate. In these matters ho spoke quite in the tone of a partizan, abused some senators, approved of the line taken by others, and, in short, spoke his opinion?, I am quite sure, without reservation or concealment of any kind. Indeed, no- thing is more striking to an European than the utter absence, in this country, of official reserve, ar-d the open- ness with which the Transatlantic statesmen speak of politics. Instead of avoiding the subject with you, they court it. Before I left Washington, there was a levee at the President's. Of course, I went there. Such a XXIV LETTERS. crew ! Tho very labourers on the Canal ^ere there. The refreshments were lemonade and whisky punch, which last the servants were actually obliged to defend "iiith bludgeons from the attacks of a great ]>art of the company. This is fact. Van 13 uren, the Secretary of State, is a man of another kidney, lie is certainly clever, and has more tact than is usual among his coun- trymen, lie has the ch:iracter of being cunning, and this I should think probable ; but he is pleasant, and certainly was peculiarly civil to myself. Calhoun, the Vice-President, is also a clever man, but somewhat coarse in manner. lie and Jackson and Van Buren are at daggers-drawing. Van Buren and he are both ma- noeuvring to succeed Jackson, after he has served another four years. Edward living-ston, senator for Louisiana, is the person I liked most. With him I was very inti- mate. He has drawn up a criminal code for Louisiana, a work of immense labour. His house was burned some years ago, when iiis task was nearly completed, and all his papers destroyed. Vv^ith singular energy of charac- ter, he commenced working again immediately, and com- pleted his task about a year ago. There is a great deal of benevolence about him, united to talents of the high- est order, and an uncommon degree oi' enthusiasm. Mr Webster, however, is the great man of the Union at present. He certainly is a man of great mental power. There is no orator in Congress who can stand against him. But I will not bore you more Avith peo- ple about whom, perhaps, you care very little. Everett* * In Mr Willis's " Pencillings by the Way," the article in the North American Review on " Men and Manners in America,"' is manifestly attributed to this gentleman as one that could be written by hira, and by him alone. That this is a mistake, the present writer is able positively to assert ; but he marvels how any one, aware of Mr Everett's high character and talents, could ever dream of laying to his account (whatever opinion might be harboured of the work reviewed) so ineffective — so dis- creditable a criticism. The writer also happens to know that the I LETTERS. XXV I saw a good deal of, and heard him make a speech of three hours on the Indian question. He was very kind to me, and spoke of writing you. other statements of Mr Willis, in so far as they regard the author of "Men and Manners,'* are equally without foundation. It must in charity be presumed that that gentleman was the dupe of a good -humoured joke— intended, perhaps, to trot him out on the national hobby ; and, had he not committed the error of pub- lishing to the world what was uttered under the privilege and in the confidence of a private conversation, there was no harm done. Be this as it may, Mr Hamilton never received from any one the review in question ; and never expressed to any one any feeling in regard to — what, in point of fact, he never read. For though he meant, and had even pledged himself, to answer any American criticism on his work deserving of attention, an extract from the article in question, which he chanced to meet with in an Eng- lish provincial (a Kendal ?) newspaper, sufficed to satisfy him (as he said) that the attack was such as no gentleman could conde- scend to notice. He had, therefore, refrained from reading what he was precluded from refuting. The following samples will show that he vas right. They may also serve as illustrations of the mendacity of the American newspaper press — as individual confirmations, in this respect, of the general strictures of our author.* Of what, iu truth, must we not suppose the daily jour- nals to be capable, in pandering to their promiscuous multitudes, when, addressing a select public, the leading quarterly periodi- cal of the Union, in an elaborate criticism of what it admits to be " the ablest and best written work upon this country which has appeared from the pen of a British traveller ;" to be, " iu respect of literary execution and general ability, the best British ccount of this country which has yet been published ;" scruples not, or finds it necessary, to sink to such deplorable personalities to found on such unqualified such transparent /a/se/ioocfe. In reference, and as a rejoinder, to the author's description of the breakfast scene at New York,f we have gravely given as a fad (what might, indeed, to those who knew the author, have had some merit, by tiie rule of contraries, as p fiction) — " the sin- gular fact, that an individual so peculiarly nice in all his habits, and so decidedly averse to ' nastiness ' of any kind, to use his own elegant phraseology, should have paid so little attention to the occasional refreshment ol his costume during his residence at Bunker's, that his fellow-boarders, if we are rightly informed, actually held a formal meeting on the subject, at which they • Chap. xxi. p. 444. f Chap 11. p. 13. ■■H XXVI LETTERS. From Wash-'ngton I returned to Baltimore, where I remained another week. From that I crossed the Alle- ghany mountains to Wheeling, a journey, in the then state passed a resolution requesting liim to change his linen ; and at length, finding his manners incorrigibly offensive, were com- pelled to abate him as a common nuisancj, by requesting the master of the house to deliver them from his company." Again, apropos of a long account quoted by the reviewer of a Liverpool agricultural dinner, there is the following : — " If we may trust to the accuracy of the anecdote related in the foUowiiig paragraph, which rests, however, on merely news- paper authority, it would seem that our author attempted to introduce into this country the agreeable innovation of ' peregri- nating amongst decanters,' glasses, and plates, upon the dinner- table, which was practised with so much success at Liverpool, and may perhaps have become general in England. We may remark, en passant, that notwithstanding his great complaints of the rapidity with which food is bolted — to use another of his choice phrases — in this country, it would seem that on this oc- casion he dispatched business with much more expedition than his fellow-travellers, and that he was too impatient of their delay even to wait for the retirement of the ladies. " 'Colonel Hamilton, bo called, the author of "Men and Manners in America,'" conducted himself while in this country with less the air of a gentleman or man of good breeding, than any traveller who has visited us for years. From all parts of the country wc have anecdotes of his conduct, which reflect upon him the utmost discredit. One of them is related aa follows in the Albany Argus i — On the passage of the Hudson, in one of our most richly furnished day boats, tlie tabic arrangements of which, as well as the whole internal government, are particularly well ordered, Captain H., seated at breakfast on the cu8hion<^d seat inside of the table, with ladies on each side of him, rose before a single lady had left the table, and attempted to step upon and across it He was arrested by the prompt and loud com- mand of tho captain of the boat. ' Down, Sir ! No man puts his foot upon my table whilst I have ..he honour to sit at its head.' The Eiigl'^hman shrank back, chagrined and rebuked. Indeed, such was his mortification, that although he had entered and paid his passage to Albany, he stopped at the first landing, (West Point.) Whether it was on this occasion that, as tho N. Y. Mirror intimates, he was rebuked by the host of the West Point Hotel for a w^nt of civility in the ladies' drawing-room, we are not informed.' " On the ground of these unbelieved fabrications, the reviewer rests his marvellous assertions, with their corollaries, — that the author was " coarse and offensive in his manners,'" — " that, in con- iHR LETTERS. XXVll of the roads with snow — of great danger. There I em- barked on the Ohio, and came down here in ten days, upwards of two thousanl miles, all river navigation. In no part of the world can the same distance be travelled with equal facility and comfort. The steam-bo. 'ts are excellent, but the company odious. The Mississippi is most grand. I have been nere about three days, and really it is the most disagreeable place I was ever in. No wonder people die by the hundred of yellow fever ; there is filth enough to kill a nation. It is all built, too, on the alluvium of the river ; and even at this season there is something, to my feelings, unpleasant and un- healthy in the atmosphere. Thank God ! I have now reached the furthest extremity of my tour, and the rest of my progress will be homeward. Alexander has been a most steady and useful servant. He hates the Ame- ricans ; so there is no chance of his staying here, as all the people said he would. I began this letter several days ago, and should be glad were I able to conclude it by saying I was about to quit this charnel-house in a day or two. But the roads, I hear, are impassable, owing to the rains, and I must, per force, remain another week at least. I shall certainly go down to see the mouths of the Mississippi, about one hundred miles lower; and the day after to-morrow I go to spend a day or two at a sugar estate, about fifteen miles up the river. After all, this is a wonderful place. Its trade immense ; and built where there is not a foot of solid ground for miles. As Coleridge says, there is " water, water every where." They cannot even bury their dead, but build vaults " r them above ground. My route backward to New York will be by Mobile, Augusta, Savannah, Charles- ton, Fayetteville, Richmond, Baltimore, Philadelphia — sideration of his talents, the cultivated circles in our cities cheer- fully overlooked the offensi"" peculiarities in his personal de- portment," &c. &c. — Such is American criticism ! Mm xxvm LETTERS. some fifteen hundred miles. I have hitherto enjoyed tolerable health, having been without complaint of any sort, till, in coming down the Mississippi, I slept one night with my cabin window open. The consequence was the most excruciating pains upon one side of my face and head, which continued several days. This complaint, I am told, is common here, and is called by the French Creoles " un coup d'jiir." One must not venture to this country to take any liberty with themselves. If they do, woe betide them. But I must now bid you farewell, my dear William. May God bless you and yours, and believe me ever Your affectionate Brother, T. Hamilton, To Lady Hamilton. Quebec, Ist July 1831. My dear Janet — At New York, about a couple of months ago, I received a letter from you, the only one I have received from Scotland since I left it. I rejoice that you are all well I am not quite sure whence it was that I wrote last, but think it was some- where in the Southern States. If so, many a weary hun- dred miles of travel have I gone through since then, not unaccompanied with accidents by flood and field, includ- ing sundry upsets, being driven for reftige during three days to the hut of an Indian, &c. &c. The most formi- dable, however, was an attack of fever at Milledgeville, in Georgia. All these, however, passed without perma- nent consequences of any sort, and I once more reached New York, glad indeed to get out of the country of these southern barbarians. At New York I again spent three weeks, and experienced renewed kindness from my old friends. I then started for Niagara, where I spent W)>H]j.'ji.jmfnm'J ."^^g*gw-" LETTERS. XXIX a week visiting the Falls, under every different aspect of shade and sunshine, and moonlight and position. I can- not describe them. Most grand ! most glorious ! is all I can say. No pencil in human fingers, no pen but an inspired one, could convey any idea of this most ter- rific yet most beautiful object. There is nothing on earth's surface to compare with it ; so, when you have read this, you will know just as much of the Falls as you did before. From Niagara I crossed Lake Ontario to York, to visit, by invitation, Sir John Colborne, gover- nor of Upper Canada. His secretary, however, had just shot himself the night before, and, of course, I did not see him. I then continued my course along the whole length of this immense lake to the beginning of the St Lawrence, and descended the rapids of that river in a hatteau to Montreal, a service of some danger, but one in which the beauty of the scenery and of the rapids themselves more than compensated for it all. At Mont- real I found Lord Aylmer, the governor-general of both provinces, who was most obliging, and gave me let- ters to Colonel Cockburn at Quebec, who commands the artillery. Lady Aylmer comes down the day after to-morrow, and has offered me o place in her suite, in a tour she intends making down the St Lawrence from tiiis. She is a clever woman, and a most agreeable one, though somewhat high and decided in manner ; and, what is still more to her credit, a great admirer of ' Cyril Thornton.' Of course, bearing letters from the Gover- nor, I have been much noticed here, and was voted an honorary member, on my arrival, of no less than three militaiy messes. I have joined that of the 32d, which has some old IViends of mine in its number. So much for the past. Now for the future. My plan is to re- main here a few days longer ; then return to New York by the route of Lake Champlain ; stop a few days at the Springs of Saratoga ; perhaps pay a visit to a friend or two on the Hudson river ; and then, on the 24th of July XXX LETTERS. or at latest on the 1st of August, embark for Liver- pool. You need not, therefore, my dear Janet, write me again in this countrj^ ; but if you will have a letter lying for me at the Liverpool post-officj by the 15th of August at latest, giving me an account of how you all are, &c., you will give me great pleasure. Pray do this, for I have a sort of nervous feeling, which makes me anxious to know how my friends all are before I return. So much, and too much, of myself ; but I here see no- body of whom you know any thing, so I am thus in a manner forced, in writing to you, to become to myself my own microcosm. I suppose you have all of late been in- volved in politics ; but of these I will not speak, though I have read every thing lately connected with England with deep and intense interest. Remember me most kindly to William ; and, with the warmest anxiety for the welfare of you all, believe me, Ever, my dear Janet, Your aflfectionate Brother, T. Hamilton. '■"# VUI.5K UJ^'vrHiVT^if TO WILLIAM WOLRYCHE WHITMORE, ESQUIRE, M.P. Dear Whitmore, I INSCRIBE these volumes to you. As a politician your course has ever been straight- forward and consistent; and I know no oue who brings to the discharge of his public duties a mind less biassed by prejudice or more philosophically solici- tous for the attainment of truth. Neither mingling in the asperities of party conflict, nor descending to those arts by which temporary popularity is often purchased at the price of permanent contempt, you have been wisely content to rest your claims to the gratitude of your country on a zealous, enlightened, and unobtrusive devotion to her best interests. Were I conscious, in what I have written of the xxxu •JEDICATION. United States, of being influenced by any motive incom- patible with perfect fairness of purpose, you are perhaps the last nerson to whose judgment I should venture an appeal. By no one will the arguments I have advanced be more rigidly examined, and the grist of truth more carefully winnowed from the chaff' of sophistry and declamation. For this reason, and in testimony of sincere esteem, I now publicly connect your name with the present work. You will find in it the conclusions of an independent observer ; formed after much delibe- ration, and offered to the world with that confidence in their justice, which becomes a writer, who, through the medium of the press, j)rctends to influence the opinions of others. It was not till more than a year after my return, that I finally determined on publishing the result of my observations in the United States. Of books of travels in America, there seemed no dcficiencv ; and I was naturally unwilling to incur, by the public expression of my opinions, the certainty of giving oflfence to a people, of whose hospitality I shall always entertain a grateful recollection. I should therefore gladly have remained silent, and devoted those hours Avhich occasionally hang heavy on the hands of an idle gentleman, to the produc- ■'liHI tioi tot M *® * m ^ the wM Par • latic |H[ nons "S ^^'^ igno wori mine WOUJ H coun natu m Tot m sion. M and '||! tude bly a M Bi m influ m lead mmmm wmmmmmmm 'film DEDICATION. XXXUl ; mcom- perhaps [iture an dvanced ith more jtry and mony of ime Avith nclusions ill delibe- idonce in [•oiigli the ! opinions y return, ult of my of travels nd I was )ression of > a people, a grateful remained iiallv hang le produc- m tions of lighter literature, which, if not more attractive to the reader, would certainly have been more agreeable to the taste and habits of the writer. But when I found the institutions and experience of the United States deliberately quoted in the reformed Parliament, as affording safe precedent for British legis- lation, and learned that the drivellers who uttered such nonsense, instead of encountering merited derision, were listened to with patience and approbation, by men as ignorant as themselves, I certainly did feel that another work on America was yet wanted, and at once deter- mined to undertake a task which inferior considerations would probably have induced me to decline. How far, in writing of the institutions of a foreign country, I may have been influenced by the prejudices natural to an Englishman, I presume not to determine. To the impartiality of a cosmopolite I make no preten- sion. No man can wholly Cu,st off the trammels of habit and education, nor escape from the bias of that multi- tude of minute and latent predilections, which insensi- ; bly affects the judgment of the wisest. But apart from such necessary and acknowledged influences, I am aware of no prejudice which could ^ lead me to form a perverted estimate of the condition. mmmm •XXXIV DEDICATION. moral or social, of the Americans. I visited their coun- try with no antipathies to be overcome ; and I doubt not you can bear testimony that my political sentiments were not such, as to make it probable that I should regard with an unfavourable eye the popular character of their government. In the United States I was received with kindness, and enjoyed an intercourse at once gratifying and instructive, with many individuals for whom I can never cease to cherish the warmest sen- timents of esteem. I neither left England a visionary and discontented enthusiast, nor did I return to it a man of blighted prospects and disappointed hopes. In the business or ambitions of the world I had long ceased to have any share. I Avas bound to no party, and pledged to no opinions. I had visited many countries, and may therefore be permitted to claim the possession of such advantages as foreign travel can bestow. Under these circumstances, I leave it to the ingenuity of others to discover by what probable — what possible temptation, I could be induced to write in a spirit of unjust depreciation of the manners, morals, or institu- tions Qf a people so intimately connected with England, by the ties of interest and the affinities of common ancestry. DEDICATION. xxx> 'ir coun- I doubt titimonts [ should ;haracter s I was ourso at Llividuals nest sen- visionary I to it a ipcs. In ig ceased rtv, and jountries, (ossession ngenuity i possible spirit of r institu- England, common It has been said by some one, that the narrative of a traveller is necessarily a book of inaccuracies. I admit the truth of the apophthegm, and oiily claim the most favourable construction for his mistakes. The range of a traveller's observations must generally be limited to those peculiai'ities which float, as it were, on the surface of society. Of the "sunless treasuries" beneath, he cannot speak. His sources of information are always fallible, and at best he can appeal only to the results of an imperfect experience. A great deal which neces- sarily enters into his narrative, must be derived from the testimony of others. In the com: ion intercourse of society, men do not select their words with that scru- pulous precision which they use in a witness-box. De- tails are loosely given and inaccurately remembered; events are coloured or distorted by the partialities of the narrator ; minute circumstances are omitted or brought into undue prominence, and the vast and varied machinery by which truth is manufactured into fallacy is continually at work. From the errors which I fear must still constitute the badge of all our tribe, I pretend to no exemption. But whatever be the amount of its imperfections, the pre- sent work is offered to the world without excuse of any w '"^ XXXVl DEDICATION. sort ; for I confess my observations have led to the con- clusion that a book requiring apology is rarely worth it. Ever, Dear Whitmore, Very truly yours, T. H. Rydal, 8(/i Jul)/ 1833. the con- ely worth i ^mmmm MEN AND MANNERS IN AMERICA. CHAPTER I. VOYAGE NEW TORE. On the morning of the 16th of October, I embarked at Liverpool, on board of the American packet-ship New York, Captain Bennet, bound for the port of the same name. There were twenty-six passengers, and, though the accommodations were excellent, the cabin, as might bo expected, was disagreeably crowded. Our party consisted of about fifteen or sixteen Americans, some half-dozen countrymen of my own, two or three English, a Swiss, and a Frenchman. Though the elements of this assemblage were hete- rogeneous enough, I have great pleasure in remembering that the most perfect harmony prevailed on board. To myself, the whole of my fellow-passengers were most obliging ; and for some I contracted a regard, Avhich led me to regret that the period of our arrival in port was likely to bring with it a lasting cessation of our intercourse. The miseries of a landsman on shipboard have afforded frequent matter for pen and pencil. At hesty a sea voyage is a confinement pt once irksome and MISERIES OF A VOYAGE. odious, In which the unfortunate prisoner is compelled for weeks, or months, to breathe the tainted atmo3])here of a close and crowded cabin, and to sleep at night in a sort of box about the size of a coffin for " the stout gentleman." At worst, it involves a com})lication of the most nausecu" evils that can afflict humanity — an utter prostration ot t ver, both bodily and mental — a revul- sion of the whole corjxjreal machinery, accompnnied by a host of detestable diagnostics, which at once convert a well-dressed and well-favoured gentleman into an object of contempt to himself and disgust to those around him. Such .are a few of the joys that await a landsman whom evil stars have led to "go down to the sea in ships, and occupy his business in the great Avaters." With regard to jsailors, the case is different, but not much. Being seasoned vessels, they are, no doubt, exempt from some of those evils, and completely harden- ed to others, which are most I'evolting to a landsman. But their Pandora's box can attbrd to lose a few mise- ries, and still retain iilieient stock for any reasonable supply. It may bi -■ »ted, too, whether the most ardent sailor was fn- ^( hallucinated by professional enthusiasm as to pitch i; - j\aradise — wherever he might place his Purgatory — afloat. On board of the New York, however, I must say that our sufferings were exclusively those proceeding from the elements of air and water. Her accommodations were excellent. Nothing had been neglected wiiicli could possibly contribute to the comfort of the passen- gers. In another respect, too, we were fortunate. Our commander had nothing about him of " the rude and boisterous captain of the sea." In truth, Captain Ben- net v/as not only an adept in all professional accom- plishment, but, in other respects, a person of extensive information ; and I confess, it was even with some de- gree of pride that I learned he had received his nautical education in the British navy. Partaking of the strong '■■m u ompelled iioaphcre liglit in a the stout on of the -an utter -a revul- )anied by conver an object »und him. hmdsraan ho sea in , waters." , but not 10 doubt, y harden- landsman. few mise- easonable the most •ofessional he might jt say that ling from modations ed which le passen- ato. Our rude and •tain Bcn- al accom- cxtensive some de- is nautical the strong 1 :§ THE PASSENGERS — MASTER BURKE. 3 sense we all entertained of his unvarying solicitude for the comfort of his passengers, I am happy also to ac- knowledge myself indebted to him for much valuable information relative to the country I Avas about to visit. Among the passengers were some whose eccentricities contributed materially to enliven the monotony of the voyage. The most prominent of these ,as a retired hair-dresser from Birmingham, innocent of all knowledge unconnected with the wig-block, who, having recently married a young wife, was proceeding, accompanied by his fair rib, with the romantic intention of establishing themselves in " some pretty box" in the back- woods of America. As for the lady, she was good-looking, but, being somewhat gratuitously solicitous to barb the arrows of her cliarms, her chief occupation during the voyage consisted in adorning lier countenance with such variety of wigs of difterent colours as unquestionably did excite the marvel, if not the admiration, of the passen- gers. The billing and cooing of this interesting couple, however, though sanctioned by the laws of Hymen, be- came at length so public and obtrusive as, in the opinion of the ladies, to demand repression ; and a request was consequently made that they would be so obliging for the future as to reserve their mutual demonstrations of attachment for the privacy of their own cabin. Among the passengers, too, was Master Burke, better known by the title of the Irish Roscius, who was about to cross the Atlantic with his f{ ther and a Frenci. music- master, to display his talents on a new field. Though not much given to admire those youthful prodigies, who, for a season or two, are puft'ed into notice, and then quietly lapse into very ordinary men, I think there can be no question that young Burke is a very wonderful boy. Barely eleven years old, he was already an accom- plished musician, played the violin with first-rate taste and execution, and in his impersonations of character dis- played a versatility of power, and a perception of the PROGRESS OP THE VOYAGE — SANDY HOOK. I deeper springs of human action, almost incrediblo in one so young. But independently of all this he heeanio, by his amiable and obliging disposition, a universal favourite on board ; and when the conclusion of our voyage brought with it a general separation, I am certain the boy carried with him the best wishes of us all, that he might escape injury or contamination in that perilous profession to which his talents had been thus early devoted. We sailed from Liverpool about one o'clock, and in little more than an hour, were clear of the Morsev. On the morning following we were opposite the Tuskar rocks, and a run of two davs brought us fairlv out into the Atlantic. Then bidding farewell to the bold head- lands of the Irish coast, with a flowing sheet we plunged forward into the vast wilderness of waters, which lay foaming before us. For the first week, all the chances were in our favour. The wind, though generally light, was fair, and the New York — celebrated as a fast sailei — with all canvass set, ran down the distance gallantly. But, on the seventh day, our good fortune was at an end. The Avind came on boisterous and adverse, and our progress fi)r the next fortnight was comparatively small. Many of the party became affected with sea-sickness, and the ho])es, to which our early good fortune had given rise, of a rapid pjissage, were — as other dearer hoj)es have been by us all — slowly, but unwillingly relinquished. We were yet some five hundred miles to the eastward of the banks of Newfoundland, when, on the 23d day, our spirits were again gladdened by a fair wind. In the six following days we ran down fifteen hundred miles, and the evening of tlio 28th day found us oft' Sandy Hook, which forms the entrance to the Bay of New York. Our misfortunes, however, w^ere not yet at an end. When within a few hours' sail of port, our progress was 4 ft 3K. VISITED FROM THE SHORE. ble in one ecaiue, by I favourite n* ^■oyage ovtain the 11, that he it perilous ;hus early c'k, and in trsev. On 10 Tuskar y out into bold head- tve plunged which lay our favour, r, and the all canvass the seventh wind came tor the next if the party i hopes, to , of a rapid been by us lie eastward le 23d day, nd. In the idred miles, 4 otf Sandy lay of New )rogress was aiTested for four days by a dense fog. Four more dis- agreeable days I never passed. Sun, moon, stars, earth, and ocean, lay hid in ii^penetrable vapour, and it was ojily b}' the constant use of the lead, that the ship could move in safety. The air wo breathed appeared changed into a hea\ier element ; we felt like men suddenly smitten with blindness, and it almost seemed as if the time of chaos had come agam, when darkness lay brood- ing on the face of the deep. The effect of this weather on the spirits of us all, was very remarkable. Evon the most jovial of the party became gloomy and morose. Conversation languished, and the benevolence with which wo haf^ hitherto regarded each other, was evidently diminished. At lengih, when our patience, hourly sinking, had nearly reached zero, a fjivoural)le change took place. About nooTi on the 17th of November, the mist suddenly rolled upward like a curtain, and with joyful eyes we beheld the coast of New Jersey outstretched before us. Towards evening, wo received a pilot, and were visited by several boats employed by the proprietors of news- papers, to procure the earliest intelligence from vessels in the offing. The avidity for news of all kinds, dis- played l)oth by these visitors and the American passen- gers, was rather amusing. Numerous questions were interchanged on matters of mercantile, jjolitical, or domestic interest. Though in this sort of traffic, as in all others, there was value given on both sides, yet it struck me, that a sincere desire to oblige was generally apparent. Every one seemed happy to enter on the most prolix details for the gratification of his neighbour ; and the frequent repetition of a question, appeared by no means to be attended with the usual consequences on the patience of the person addressed. I certainly could detect nothing of that dogged, and almost sullen brevity, with which, I imagine, the com- munications of Englishmen, in similar circumstances, 6 ENTER NEW YORK BAT — THE SCENERY. would have been marked. No one appeared to grudge the trouble necessary to convey a complete comprehen- sion of facts or opinions to the mind of his neiglibour, nor to circumscribe his communications within the limits necessary to secure the gratification of his own curiosity. We passed Sandy Hook in tlie niglit, rnd, on coming on deck in the morning, were greeted with one of the most beautiful prospects I had ever beheld. We were then passing the Narrows ; Long Island on one side, Staten Island on the other, a finely undulating country, hills covered with wood, agreeably interspersed with villas and cottages, and New York on its island, witii its vast forest of shipping, looming in the distance. Such are some of the more prominent features of the scene, by which our (yes wrro first gladdened, on enter- ing the American waters. A more glorious morning never shone from th r heavens. All around was bathed in a flood of sunshine, which seemed brigliter when con- trasted with the weather under which we had so recently suflfered. I am not aware that there is any thing very fine in the appearance of New York when seen from the bay, but, taken in conjunction with the surrounding scenery, it certainly forms a pleasing feature in the landscape. The city stands on the southcii: extremity of York Island, and enlarging in latitude as it recedes from tlie apex of a triangle, stretches along the shores of the Hud- son and East Rivers, fiir as the eye can reach. On the right are the heights of Brooklyn, which form part of Long Island ; and across the broad waters of tlie Hud- son, the view is terminated on the left by the wooded shore of New Jersey. But whatever may be the pictorial defects or beauties of New York, it is almost impossible to conceive a city better situated for commerce. At no season of the year can there be any obstruction in its communication with % K-. L.'^DING AT NEW YORK — FIRST IMPRESSIONS. to grudge oinprchcn- iioighboiir, vitlun the )t' his own on coming one of the We were one side, g country, crsed with jiand, Avith ance. ures of tlie I, on enter- is morning was bathed when con- so recently erv fine in >m the bay, ng scenery, Landscape. y of York IS from the .f the Hud- 1. On the rm part of f the Ilud- he wooded or beauties 3eive a city of the year nation with :'M i\ 3 ocean ; and with a fine and navigable river, stretch- ing for nearly two hundred miles into the interior of a fertile country, it possesses natural advantages of no common order. In extent of trade and population, I believe New York already exceeds every other city of the Union ; and unquestionably it is yet very far from having gathered all its greatness. The scene, as we approached the quay, became gra- dually more animated. Numerous steam-vessels, and boats of all descriptions, w^ere traversing the harbour ; and the creaking of machinery, and the loud voices which occasionally reached us from the shore, gave evidence of activity and bustle. About twelve o'clock the ship reached her mooring, and in half an hour I was safely housed in Bunker's Hotel, Avhere I had been strongly recommended to take up my residence. A young American accompanied me to the house, and Introduced me to the landlord, who, after some miscel- laneous conversation, produced a book, in which I was directed to enrol my name, country, and vocation. This formality being complied with, a black waiter was di- rected to convey such of my baggage as I had been permitted to bring ashore, to an apartment, and I found myself at liberty to ramble forth, and gratify my curio- sity by a view of the town. In visiting a foreign city, a traveller — especially an English one — usually expects to find, in the aspect of the place and its inhabitants, some tincture of the bar- baric. There is something of this, though not a great deal, at New York. The appearance of the population, though nov English, is undoubtedly nearer to it than that of any city on the continent of Europe ; and but for the number of blacks and people of colour one encounters in the streets, there is certainly little to remind a traveller that the breadth of an ocean divides him from Great Britain. The fashions of dress gene- rally adopted by the wealthier classes are those of Paris 8 APPEARANCE OP THE STREETS. and London ; and the tastes and habits of tlio people, so far as chose appear on the surface, bear a strong resemblance to those prevalent in the old country. Minute differences, however, are no doubt a])parent at the first glance. The asiiect and beai'ing of the citizens of New York, are certainly very distinguishable from any thing ever seen in Enghuui. They are generally slender in person, somewhat slouching in gait, and with- out that openness of countenance and erectness of de- portment to which an English eye has been accustomed. Their utterance, too, is marked by a peculiar modula- tion, partaking of a snivel and a di-awi, which, I confess, to my ear, is by no means laudable on the score of eu- phony. Observations of a similar character are as apjdicable to the city as to its inhabitants. The frequent inter- mixture of houses of brick and framework, was certainly unlike any thing I had ever seen in Europe ; and the New-Yorkers have inhei'ited from their Dutch ancestors the ftishion of painting their houses of a bright colour, which produces an agreeable effect, and gives to the streets an air of gaiety and lightness which could not otherwise have been attained. The prominent defect of the city, is a want of consistency and compactness in the structure even of the better streets. There are some excellent houses in all, but these frequently occur in alternation with mere hovels, and collections of rubbish, which detract materially from the general effect. But the appearance of New York is unquestionably plea- sing. It is full, even to overflow, of business and bustle, and crowded with a population devoting their whole energies to the arts of money-getting. Such were the first impressions I received in New York. Having gratified my curiosity with a cursory view of the chief streets, my obliging companion conducted me to the Custom-house, in order to procure a permit for landing my baggage. On arriving there, I was rather :;•( THE CUSTOM-HOUSE. 9 tlie people, ar a strong Id country, apparent at ' the citizens sliable from re generally it, and Avith- •tness of de- accustomed, liar modula- !h, I confess, score of eu- as ap]dicable Kiuent inter- rvas certainly pe ; and the tch ancestors right colour, ffives to the ch could not lent defect of iipactness in There are [uently occur lis of rubbish, effect. But onably plea- ss and bustle, their whole ich were the rsory view of londucted me ( a permit for I was rather surprised to find that the routine observed in such matters in this republican country, is considerably more vexatious than in England. In New York, you are first ?f required to swear that the specification given of the con- *' tents of your boxes is true ; and then, as if no reliance were due to your oath, the officers proceed to a complete search. To the search, however troublesome, undoubt- ' cdly no objection can bo made ; but it does appear to be little better than an insulting mockery, to require an oath to which all credit is evidently denied. The pro- verb says, that "at lovers' vovrs Jo\e laughs ;" and if, in America, the deity is supposed o extend his morrimtnt .to Custom-house oaths, it sure ly would be better to ^abolish a i)ractice, which, to say nothing of its demoraliz- ing effects, is found to have no efficacy in the prevention -of fraud. Certainly in no country of Europe is it usual -to require an oath, in cases where it is not received as sufficient evidence of the fact deposed to ; and why the ^practice should be different, under a government so fopular as that of the United States, it would be difficult a determine. L Custom-house regulations, however, are matters on ,. hicli most travellers are given to be censorious. In ,4^ruth, I know nothing so trying to the equanimity of , Ahe mildest temper, as the unpleasant ceremony of hav- ,^ng one's baggage rummaged over by the rude fists of a fevenue officer. It is in vain to tell lis, that this imper- tinent poking into our portmanteaus is just and proper ; that the privilege is reciprocal between nations, each of rhich necessarily enjoys the right of excluding alto- gether articles of foreign manufacture, or of attaching Jiuch conditions to their importation as it may see fit. ^^11 this is very true, but the sense of personal indignity tannot be got over. There is nothing of national solem- ity at all apparent in the operation. The investigator of our property is undistinguished by any outward sym- Ibol of executive authority. It requii-es too great an 10 CUSTOM-HOUSE OFFICER — SIGNS. effort of imaijination to roijard a dirty Custom-house searcher as a visible impersonation of the majesty of the law ; and, in si>ite of ten thousand unanswerable reasons to the contrai-y, we cannot hel)* considerinji^ his riyid examination of our cloak-baa; and shaving-ease, rather as an act of individual audacity, than the necessary and perfunctory dischari^e of })rofessional duty. In short, the searcher and searcltce stand to each other in the rela- tion ol' plus and minus; and the latter ha'j nothing for it, but to put his jmde iri his pocket, and keep down his eholer as best he can, with the knowledge that, being pro tem. in the hands of the Philistines, the smallest display of either could only tend to make things worse. It is always my rule, therefore, when i)ossible, to avoid being present at the scene at all ; and having, on the present occasion, given directions to my servant to await the business of inspection, and afterwards to convey the baggage to the hotel, I again conunitted myself to the guidance of some of my American friends, and eoni- nienced another rand)le through the city. As we passed, many of the signs exhibited by the different shops s*"ruck me a* singular. Of these, " Dry Good Stoke," words of Avhich I confess I did not understand the precise import, was certainly the most prevalent. My companions informed me tiiat the term dri/ goods is not, as might be supposed, generally appli- cable to merchandise devoid of moisture, but soleh^ to articles composed of linen, silk, or woollen. " Coffin Warehouse," however, was sufticiently explanatory of ! the nature of iha commerce carried on within ; but had it been otherwise, iha sight of some scores of these dis- mal connnodities, arranged in sizes, and ready for innue- diate use, would have been connnent enough. " Flour AND Feed Store," and " Oyster Refectory," were more grateful to the eye and the imagination. " Hol- low Ware, Spiders, and Fire Dogs," seemed to indi- cate some novel and anomalous traffic, and carried with REM.VRKADLE PLACARD — NIBLO'S TA\'ERN. 11 istom-liouse ijosty of the jvblo roasoiw [ir his vU/kI case, rather ?eossary and In short, in the rohi- )thinu: for it, >j> clown his that, being | the smallest hings Avorse. •le, to avoid vino;, on the rant to await convey the i lyself to the s, and coni- it a certain dim and mystical sublimity, of Avhieli I shall not venture to divest it by any attemi)t at explanation. I was amused, too, with some of the jdaeards Mhioh appeared on the walls. Many of these were political, and one in particular was so unintelligible, as to impose the task of a somewhat ])rolix connnentary on my friends. It ran thus, in sesquipedalian characters, JACKSON FOR EVER! GO THE WHOLE HOG! "When the sphere of my intelligence became enlarged with regard to this officlte, I learned that " going the Avhole hog" is the American })opular ])hrase for lladical Reform, and is used by the Democratic ]>arty to distin- guish them from the Federalists, who are supposed to prefer less sweeping n)easures, and consequently to go oidy a part of the interesting (piadruped in question. The Go-the-whole-lioggers, therefore, are politicians de- termined to follow out Democratic principles to their utmost extent, and with this party General Jackson is at present an especial favourite. The exj)ression, I am told, is of Virginian origin. In that State, when a butcher kills a pig, it is usual to demand of each cus- tomer, whether ho will " go the whole hog ;" as, by such extensive traffic, a ]>vu'chaser may supply his table at a lower price than is demanded of him whose imagi- nation revels among vrime pieces, to the exclusion of I baser matter. Before quitting the ship, it had been arranged among I a considerable number of the passengers, that we should [dine together on the day of our arrival, as a proof of parting in kindness and good-fellowship, Niblo's tavern, I the most celebrated eating-house in Now York, was the jsceno chosen for this amicable celebration. Though a llittle tired with my walks of the morning, which the long. Iprevious confinement on shipboard had rendered more Ithan usually fatiguing, I determined to explore my way 12 CIVILITY OF A GROCER. Ill : d on foot, and having procured the necessary directions at the hotel, again set forth. On my way an incident occurred, which I merely mention to show how easily travellers like myself, on their first arrival in a country, may be led into a misconcei)tion of the character of the people. IIa\ing proceeded some; distance, I found it nec(!ssary to -nquire my way, and accordingly entered a small gro shop. " Pray, sir," I said, " can you point out t( .he way to Niblo's tavern ? " The poi- son thus addressed was rather a grutl-louking man, in a scratch-wig, and for at least half a minute kept eyeing mo from top to toe without nttering a syllable. " Yes, sir, I can," he at length replied, witli a stare as broad f^ if he had taken mo for the great Katterfelto. Consi- dering this sort of treatment as the mere ebullition of republican insolence, I was in the act of turning on my heel and quitting the shop, when the man added, " and I shall have great pleasure in showing it you." He then crossed the counter, and accompanying mo to the middle of the street, pointed out the landmarks by which I wa.< to steer, and gave the most minute directions for my guidance. I presume that his curiosity in the first in- stance was excited by something foreign in my appear- ance ; and that, having once satisfied himself that I was a stranger, he became on that account more than ordi- narily anxious to oblige. This incident afforded me the first practical insight into the manners of the people, and was useful both as a precedent for future guidance, g and as explaining the source of many of the errors of^ former travellers. Had my motion to quit the shop been/ executed with greater rapidity, I should certainly have! considered this man as a brutal barbarian, and perhaps | have drawn an unfair inference with regard to the man- ners and character of the lower orders of society in thej United States. The dinner at Niblo's — which may be considered the^ London Tavern of New York — was certainly more ex-j DINNER AT NIBLO'S— NEAV YORK. 13 cellent in point of material, than of cookery or arrange- ment. Jt consisted of oyster soup, shad, venison,* par- tridges, grouse, wild-ducks of different varieties, and several other dishes loss notable. There was no attempt to serve this chaotic entertainment in courses, a fashion, indeed, but little jjrevalont in the United States. Soup, fisli, flesh, ud fowl, simultaneously garnished the table ; and the c()nse(|uence was, that the greater part of the dishes were cold before the guests were prepared to attack them. The venison was good, though certainly very inferior to that of the fallow-deer. The wines were excellent, the company agreeable in all respects, and altogether I do not remember to have passed a more pleasant evening than that of my first arrival at Ne\r York. CHAPTER II. NEW YOHK. I HAD nearly completed my toilet on the morning [after my arrival, Avhen the tinkling of a large bell gave intimation that the hour of breakfast was come. I ac- cordingly descended as speedily as possibly to the salle lu manger, and found a considerable party engaged in [doing justice to a meal, which, at first glance, one would I scarcely have guessed to be a breakfast. Solid viands jof all descriptions loaded the table, while, in tlie occa- jsional intervals, were distributed dishes of rolls, toast, land cakes of buckwheat and Indian corn. At the head lof the table sat the landlady, who, with an air of com- [placent dignity, was busied in the distribution of tea • In regard to game, I adopt the nomenclature in common use in the iTJnited States. It may be as well to state, however, that neither the oartridges nor the grouse bear any very close resemblance to the birds Df the same name in Europe. Their flesh la dry, and comparatively rithout flavour. p 14 BREAKFAST AT THE HOTEL. li and coffee. A large bevy of negroes were hustling about, ministering with all possible alacrity to the many wants which were somewhat vociferously obtruded on their attention. Towards the upper end of the table, I observed about a dozen ladies, but by far the larger por- tion of the company were of the other sex. The contrast of the whole scene with that of an Eng- lish breakfast-table, was striking enough. Here was no loitering nor lounging ; no dipping into newspapers ; no apparent lassitude of appetite ; no intervals of repose in mastication ; but all was hurry, bustle, clamour, and voracity, and the business of repletion went forward with a rapidity altogether unexampled. The strenuous efforts of the company were of course soon rewarded with suc- cess. Departures, which had l)egun even before I took my place at the table, became every instant more nume- rous, and in a few minutes the apartment had become, what Moore beautifully describes in one of his songs, " a banquet-hall deserted." The appearance of the tabic under such circumstances, was by no means gracious either to the eye or the fancy. It was strewed thickly witli the disjecta membra of the entertainment. Here lay fragments of fish, somewhat unpleasantly odoriferous ; there, the skeleton of a chicken ; on the right, a mustard- pot upset, and the cloth, passim, defiled with stains of eggs, coffee, gravy — but I will not go on with the pic- ture. One nasty custom, however, I must notice. Eggs, instead of being eat from the shell, are poured into a wine-glass, and after being duly and disgustingly churn- ed up with butter and condiment, the mixture, according to its degree of fluidity, is forthwith either spooned into the mouth, or drunk off' like a liquid. The advantage gained by this unpleasant process I do not profess to be qualified to appreciate, but I can speak from experience to its sedative effect on the appetite of an unpractised beholder. My next occupation Avas to look over my letters of j LETTERS OP INTRODUCTION. 15 of an Eng- lore Avas no jpapors ; no at' repose in amour, and orward with luous efforts 3d with suc- lefore I took more nume- lad heconic, »f his songs, of the tahlc ans gracious wed thickly nent. Here odoriferous ; t, amustard- vith stains of with the pic- lotico. Eggs, soured into a tingly churn- u-e, according spooned into 'ho advantage ; profess to be )m experience a unpractised introduction. Of these I found above thirty addressed to New York, and being by no means anxious to be- come involved in so wide a vortex of acquaintance, I requested one of my American fellow-passengers to select such, as, from his local knowledge, he imagined might prove of more immediate service to a traveller like my- self. In consequence of this arrangement, about half the letters with which the kindness of my friends had furnished me, wore discarded ; and I can truly say that the very warm and obliging reception I experienced from those to Avhom I forwarded introductions, left me no room to regret the voluntary limitation of their number. Having dispatched my letters, and the morning being \^et, I remained at home, busied in throwing together a few memoranda of such matters as appeared worthy of reconl. My labours, however, were soon interrupted. Several gentlemen who had lieard of my arrival tiu-ough the nicdium of my folio w-passengers, but on whose civility I had no claim, did me the honour to call, tendering a welcome to their citV; and the still more obliging offer of their services. M ^ letters, too, did not fail of pro- curing me a plentiful influx of visitors. Numerous invi- tations followed, and, by the extreme kindness of my new friends, free admission was at once afforded UiO to the [best society in New York. ' The first impression made by an acquaintance with tlio better educated order of American gentlemen, is cortainiy very pleasing. There is a sort of republican • plainness and simplicity in their address, quite in har- mony Avith the institutions of their country. An Ame- rican bows less than an Englishman ; he deals less in mere conventional forms and expressions of civility ; he [pays few or no compliments ; makes no unmeaning or k'erstrained professions ; but he takes you by the hand with a cordiality whicli 'it once intimates that he is dis- posed to regard yoa as a fr'.eud. Of that higher grace 16 AMERICAN GENTLEMEN. of manner, inseparable perhaps from the artificial dis- tinctions of European society, and of which even those most conscious of its hoUowness, cannot always resist the attraction, few specimens are of course to be found in a country like the United States ; but of this I am sure, that such a reception as I experienced in New York, is far more gratifying to a stranger than the farce of ceremony, however gracefully it may be performed. Perhaps I was the more flattered by the kindness of my reception, from having formed anticipations of a loss plea- sing character. The Americans I had mot in Europe had generally been distinguished by a certain reserve, and something even approaching to the offensive in manner, whicli had not v,ontributed to create a preposses- sion in their favour. It seemed as if each individual were impressed with the conviction that the whole dig- nity of his country was concentred in his person ; and I imagined them too much given to disturb the placid current of social intercourse, by the obtrusion of national jealousies, and the cravings of a restless and inordinate vanity. It is indeed highly probable, that these unpleasant peculiarities were called into moi'o frequent display, by that air of haughty repulsion in which too many of my countrymen have the bad taste 1o indulge ; but even from what I have already seen, I feel sure that an American at home, is a very different per- son from an American abroad. With his foot on hi^ native soil, he appears in his true diaracter ; ho moves in the sphere for which his liabits and education have peculiarly adapted him, and, surrounded by his fellow - citizens, he at once gets rid of the embarrassing convic- tion, that he is regarded as an individual impersonation , of the whole honour of the Union. In England, he is generally anxious to demonstrate by indifference of man-| ner, that he is not dazzled by the splendo r which sur- rounds him, .and too solicitously forward in denying the I validity of all pretensions, which he fears the world may 1 AMERICANS IN EUROPE — PUBLIC BUILDINGS. 17 'tificlal dis- even those ys resist the found in a I am sure, . York, is far )f ccrcraonv, idness of my >f a less plea- t in Europe tain reserve, offensive in ! a preposses- !h individual ' e whole dig- erson ; and I b the phicid obtrusion of , restless and robable, that id into more ' repulsion in e bad taste to ly seen, I feel different per- is foot on his ?r ; he moves, lucation havej by his fellow- 1 consider as superior to his own. But in his own country, he stands confessedly on a footing with the highest. His national vanity remains unruffled by opposition or vexatious comparison, and his life passes on in a dreamy and complacent contemplation of the high part, which, in her growing greatness, the United States is soon to assume in the mighty drama of the world. His imagi- nation is no longer troubled with visions of lords and palaces, and footmen in embroidery and cocked hats ; or if he think of these things at all, it is in a spirit far more philosophical than that with which he once regarded them. Connected with England by commercial rela- tions, by comnmnity of literature, and a thousand ties, which it will still require centuries to obliterate, he can- not regard her destinies without deep interest. In the contcsi s in which, by the calls of honour, or by the folly of her rulers, she may be engaged, the reason of an Ame- rican may be against England, but his hecrt is always with her. He is ever ready to extend to her sons the rites of kindness and hospitality, and is more flattered by their praise, and more keenly sensitive to their censure, than is perhaps quite consistent with a just estimate of the true value of either. I remember no city which has less to show in the way of lions than New York. The whole interest attaching to it, consists in the general appearance of the place ; in the extreme activity and bustle which is every whore api)arent, and in the rai)id advances which it has made, and is still making, in opulence and popul.fcion. In an architectural view. New York has absolutely nothing to arrest the attention. The only building of pretension is the State-House, or City-Hall, in which the courts of law hold their sittings. In form, it is an oblong parallelogram, two stories in height, exclusive of the basement, with an Ionic portico of white marble, which, instead of a pediment, is unfortunately sur- mounted by a balcony. Above, is a kind of lantern or B 18 THE EXCHANGE — BROADWAY. pepper-box, which the taste of the architect has led him to substitute for a dome. From the want of simplicity, the effect of the whole is poor ; and certainly not im- proved by the vicinity of a very ugly jail, which might be advantageously removed to some less obtrusive situa- tion. The Exchange is a petty affair, and unworthy of a community so large and opulent as that of New York. With regard to churches, those frequented by the wealthier classes are built of stone, but the great majo- rity are of timber. Their architecture in general is anomalous enough ; and the wooden spires, terminating in gorgeous weathercocks, are as gay as the lavish em- ployment of the painter's brush can make them. But the chief attraction of New York is the Broad- way, which runs through the whole extent of the city, and forms as it were the central line from which the other streets diverge to the quays on the Hudson and East River. It is certainly a handsome street, and the complete absence of regularity in the buildings — which are of all sizes and materials, from the wooden cottage of one story, to the massive brick edifice of five or six — gives to Broadway a certain picturesque efiect. incom- patible, perhaps, with greater regularity of architecture. Towards the southern extremity, the sides are skirted by a row of stunted and miserable-looking trees, useless either for shade or ornament, which breaks the unity of | the street without compensation of any sort. The shops in Broadway are the depots of all the fa- shionable merchandise of the city, but somewhat defi- cient in external attractions to eyes accustomed to the splendour of display in Regent Street or Oxford Road. About two o'clock, however, the scene in Broadway be- comes one of pleasing bustle and animation. The trottoirs are then crowded with gaily dressed ladies, and that portion of the younger population, whom the ab- sence of more serious employment enables to appear in P" LADIES OF NEW YORK. 19 the character of beaux. The latter, however, is small. From the general air and appearance of the people, it is quite easy to gather that trade, in some of its various branches, is the engrossing object of every one, from the youth of fifteen to the veteran of fourscore, who, from force of habit, still lags superfluous on the Exchange. There are no morning loungers in New York ; and the ladies generally walk unattended ; but in the evening, I am told, it is different, and the business of gallantry goes on quite as hopefully as on our side of the water. I have observed many countenances remarkable for beauty among the more youthful portion of the fair promenaders. But, unfortunately, beauty in this climate is not durable. Like "the ghosts of Banquo^s fated line," it comes like a shadow, and so departs. At one or two-and-twenty the bloom of an American lady is gone, and the more substantial materials of beauty fol- low soon after. At thirty the whole fabric is in decay, and nothing remains but the tradition of former con- quests, and anticipations of the period when her reign of triumph will be vicariously restored in the person of her daughter. The fashions of Paris reach even to New York, and the fame of Madame Maradan has already transcended the limits of the Old World, and is diffused over the New. I pretend to be something of a judge in such matters, and therefore pronounce eoe cathedrd, that the ladies of New York are well dressed, and far from inelegant. The average of height is certainly lower than among my fair countrywomen; the cheek is without colour, and the figure sadly deficient in en-bon-point. But with all these disadvantages, I do not remember to have seen more beauty than I have met in New York. The features are generally finely moulded, and not unfrequently display a certain delightful harmony, which reminds one of the belle donne of St Peter's and the Pincian Mount. The mouth alone is not beautiful ; it 20 LAW COURTS OF NEW YORK. rarely possesses the charm of fine teeth, and the Hps want colour and fulness. The carriage of these fair Americans is neither French nor English, for they have the good sense to adopt the peculiarities of neither. They certainly do not paddle along with the short steps and affected carriage of a Parisian belle, nor do they consider it becoming to walk the streets with the stride of a grenadier. In short, though I may have occasion- ally encountered more grace than has met my observa- tion since my arrival in the United States, assuredly I have never seen less of external deportment which the most rigid and fastidious critic could fairly censure. One of my earliest occupations was to visit the courts of law. In the first I entered, there were two judges on the bench, and a jury in the box, engaged in the trial of an action of assault and battery, committed by one female on another. It is scarcely possible to con- ceive the administration of justice invested with fewer forms. J dges and barristers were both wigiess and gownless, and dressed in garments of such colour and fashion as the taste of the individual might dictate. There was no mace, nor external symbol of authority of any sort, except the staves which I observed in the hands of a few constables, or ofliicers of the court. In the trial there was no more interest than what the quarrel of two old women, in any country, may be supposed to excite. The witnesses, I thought, gave their evidence with a greater appearance of phlegm and indifterence than is usual in our courts at home. No one seemed to think that any peculiar decorum of deportment was demanded by the solemnity of the court. The first witness exa- mined held the Bible in one hand, while he kept the other in his breeches pocket, and, m giving his evidence, stood lounging with his arm thrown over the bench. The judges were men about fifty, with nothing remark- able in the mode of discharging their duty. The coun- sel were younger, and, so far as I could judge, by no Mm RESPECT PAID TO JUDGES. 21 id the lips these fair they have of neither. short steps or do they 1 the stride e occasion- iiy observa- assuredly I which the ensure. t the courts two judges Lged in the inniitted by h\o to con- [ with fewer wigiess and colour .and ght dictate. authority of in the hands In the trial larrel of two ;d to excite. enco with a 3nce than is lied to think IS demanded witness oxa- he kept the his evidence, ' the bench. Iiing reniark- Tho coun- judge, by no means deficient either in zeal for the cause of their clients, or ingenuity in maintaining it. The only un- pleasant part of the spectacle — for I do not suppose that justice could be administered in any country with greater substantial purity — was the incessant salivation going forward in all parts of the court. Judges, counsel, jury, Avitncsses, officers, and audience, all contributed to augment the mass of abomination ; and the floor around the table of the lawyers presented an appearance, on which even now I find it not very pleasant for the imagination to linger. Having satisfied my curiosity in this court, I entered another, which I was informed was the Supremo Court of the state. The proceedings here were, if possible, Ir'ss interesting than those I had already witnessed. The court Avere engaged in hearing arguments connected with a bill of exchange, and, whether in America or England, a speech on such a subject must be a dull afijiir ; I was therefore on the point of departing, when a jury, which had previously retired to deliberate, came into court, and proceeded in the usual form to deliver their verdict. It was not without astonishment, I con- fess, that I remarked that three-fourths of the jurymen were engaged in eating bread and cheese, and that the foreman actually announced the verdict Avith his mouth full, ejecting the disjointed syllables during the intervals of masticotion ! In truth, an American seems to look on a judge exactly as ho does on a carpenter or copper- smith, and it never occurs to him that an administrator of justice is entitled to greater respect than a construc- tor of brass knockers or the sheather of a ship's bottom. The judge and the brazier are paid equally for their Avork ; and Jonathan firmly believes that, Avhile he has money in his pocket, there is no risk of his sul/ering from the want either of Liav or warming-pans. I cannot think, hoAvever, that, Avith respect to these matters, legislation in this country has proceeded on very 22 OBSEuVATIONS. sound and enlightened principles. A very clever lavrver asked me last night, whether the sight of their courts had not cured me of my John Bullish predilection for robes, wigs, and maces, and all the other trumpery and irrational devices for imposing on weak minds. I an- swered, it had not ; nay, so far was the case otherwise, that had I before been disposed to question the utility of those forms to which he objected, wl at I had wit- nessed since my arrival in New York, would have re- moved all doubts on the subject. A good deal of dis- cussion followed, and though each of us persisted in maintaining his own opinion, it is only justice to state that the argument was conducted by my opponent with the utmost liberality and fairness. I refrain from giving the details of this conversation, because a " protocol" signed only by one of the parties is evidently a docu- ment of no weight; and where a casuist enjoys the pri- vilege of adducing the arguments on both sides, it would imply an almost superhuman degree of self-denial were he not to urge the best on his own, and range him- self on the side of the gods, leaving that of Cato to his opponent. It is a custom in this country to ask, and generally with an air of some triumph, whether an Englishman supposes there is wisdom in a wig ; and whether a ^ew pounds of horsehair, set on a judge's skull, and plaster- ed with pomatum and powder, can be imagined to bring with it any increase of knowledge to the mind of the person whose cranium is thus disagreeably enveloped ? The answer is. No ; we by no means hold, either that a head au naturel, or that garments of fustian or corduroy, are at all unfavourable to legal discrimination ; and are even ready to admit, that in certain genial regions, a judge in cuerpo, and seated on a wooden stool, might be as valuable and efficient an administrator of law as one wigged to the middle, and clad in scarlet and ermine. But if any American be so deficient in dialectic as to 4 V^ OBSERVATIONS. 23 ever law^^er tlioir courts lilection for umpery and inds. I an- le otherwise, tlie utility I had wit- dd have re- doal of dis- persisted in itice to state iponont with 1 from giving " protocol" ntly a docu- joys the pri- otii sides, it of self-denial id range him- f Cato to his md generally I Englishman i^hether a ^ew i, and plaster- jined to bring mind of the y enveloped ? , either that a n or corduroy, tion ; and are lial regions, a :i^ jtool, might be of law as one t and ermine, lialectic as to imagine that this admission involves a surrender of the question in debate, we would beg leave respectfully to remind him thi-t the schoolmaster is abroad, and recom- mend him to improve his logic with the least possible delay. If man were a being of pure reason, forms would be unnecessary. But he who should legislate on such an assumption would aftbrd ample evidence of his own unfitness for legislation. Man is a creature of senses and imagination ; and even in religion the whole expe- rience of the world has borne testimony to the necessity of some external rite or solemnity of observance to sti- mulate his devotion and enable him to concentrate his faculties for the worship of mat aw ful and incomprehen- sible Being '• whose kingdom is where time and space are not." It is difficult to see on what principle those who approve the stole of the priest, and cover their ge- nerals and admirals with gold lace, can condemn as irra- tional all external symbols of dignity on the part of the judge. Let the Americans at all events be consistent : While they address their judges by a title of honour, let them at least be protected from rudeness and vidgar familiarity ; and they may perhaps be profitably remind- ed, that the respect exacted in a British court of justice I is homage, not to the individual seated on the bench, but to the law, in the person of its minister. Law is the only bond by which society is held together ; its admi- nistration, therefore, should ever be marked out to the ? imagination, as well as to the reason, of the great body 1 of a nation as an act of peculiar and paramount solem- nity ; and when an Englishman sees the decencies of •life habitually violated in the very seat of justice, he na- ;turally feels the less disposed to dispense with those venerable forms with which, in his own country, it has \ been wisely encircled. Our answer, therefore, is, that it lis precisely to avoid such a state of things as now exists \in the American courts, that the solemnities which invest [the discharge of the judicial office in England were ori- ' ^1 M:i| 24 DINNER AT THE HOTEL. ginaiiy imposed, and are still maintained. We regard ceremonies of all sorts, not as things important in them- selves, but simply as means conducing to an end. It matters not by what particular process — by Avhat rou- tine of observance — by what visible attributes, the dig- nity of justice is asserted and its sanctity impressed on the memory and imagination. But at least let this end, by some means or other, be secured ; and if this be done, we imagine there is little chance of our adopting many of the forensic habits of our friends on this side of the Atlantic. At New York, the common dinner-hour is three o'clock, and I accordingly hurried back to the hotel. Having made such changes and ablutions as the heat of the court-rooms had rendered necessary, I descended to the bar, an apartment furnished with a counter, across which supplies of spirits and cigars are furnished to all who desiderate such luxuries. Tho bar, in short, is the lounging-place of the establishment ; and here, when the hour of dinner is at iiand, all the inmates of the hotel may be found collected. On the present occasion, the room was so full that I really found it difficult to get further than the door. At length a bell sounded, and no sooner did its first vil)ration reach the ears of the party, than a sudden rush took place towards the diningroom, in which — being carried forward by the crowd — I soon found myself. The extreme precipita- tion of this movement appeared somewhat superfluous, as there was evidently no difficulty in procuring i)laces ; and on looking round the apartment, I perceived the whole party comfortably seated. To a gentleman with a keen appetite, the coup-d'ceil of the dinner-table was far from unpleasing. The num- ber of dishes was very great. The style of cookery neither French nor English, though certainly approach- ing nearer to the latter than to the former. The dress- ed dishes were decidedly bad, the sauces being composed y AMERICAN MODE OF EATING. 25 of Httlo else than liquid grease, which to a person like [myself, Avho have an inherent detestation of every modi- fication of oleaginous matter, was an objection altogether {insuperable. On the whole, however, it would be un- [just to complain. If, as the old adage hath it, " in the Imultitude of counsellors there is wisdom," so may it be [averred, as equally consistent with human experience, [that in the multitude of dishes there is good eating. Lfter several unsuccessful exi)erinients, I did discover inobjectionable viands, and made as good a dinner as the ambition of an old campaignei' could desire. Aiound, I beheld the same scene of gulping and Bwallowing, as if for a wager, which my observations at In'oakfast had prepared mo to expect. In my oAvn neigh- bourhood there was no conversation. Each individual !seemed to pitchfork his food down his gullet, without the smallest attention to the wants of his neigiibour. If you asked a gentleman to help you from any dish be- fore him, he certainly complied, but in a manner that showed you had imposed on him a disagreeable task; and instead of a slice, your plate generally returned loaded with a solid massive Avedge of animal matter. It wa^ e\ident that the New York carvers had never gra- duated at \ auxhall. Brandy bottles Avere ranged at interval:^ along the table, from Avhich each guest helped himself as he thought proper. As the diinier advanced, the party rai)idly diminished ; before the second course, a consider- Iiblo number had taken their departure, and compara- tively fcAV Avaited the api)earance of the dessert. Though Vandy Avas the prcAailing beverage, there Avere many Iso Avho drank Avine, and a small knot of three or four rhom I took to be countrymen of my OAvn) were still jntinuing the carousal when I bft the apartment: An American is by no means a convivial being. He Jems to consiwor eating and drinkinsr as necessarv tasks, mich lie IS anxious to discharge as speedily v. - possible. ' 2G GRACE CHURCH — DIVINE SERVICE. I was at first disposed to attriJ)utG this sini^ularity to the claims of business, Avhicli, in a niereantilo connnunity, miirht bo found inconsistent with more i)r()h3n'fercns — I observed that even ladies did not hesitate to partake. The tea and coffee were both execrable. A supper, of cold meat, &c., follows at ten o'clock, and remains on the table till twelve, when eating terminates for the day. Such is the unvarying routine of a New York hotel. On the first Sunday after my ai'rival, I attended di- vine service in Grace Church, which is decidedly the most fashionable place of worship in New York. The congregation, though very numerous, Avas composed almost exclusively of the wealthier class ; and the gay dresses of the ladies — whose taste genei-ally leads to a preference of th\? brightest colours — jiroduced an eftect not unlike that of a bod of tulips. Nearly in front of t^e reading desk, a comfortable chair and hassock had been provided for a poor old woman, a])parently about fourscore. There was something very pleasing in this considerate and benevolent attention to the infirmities of a helpless and withered creature, who probably had outlived lier friends, and was soon about to rejoin them in the grave. The Episcopal church of America differs little in for- mula fi-om that of England. The liturgy is the same, though here and thei-e an expression has been altered, not always, I think, for the better. In the first clause of the Lord's Prayer, for instance, the word "which" MONUMENT OF GENERAL HAMILTON. 27 has been chanf^cd into " who," on the score of gramma- tical ])roi)riety. This is poor criticism, for, it will scarcely he denied, that the use of the neuter })ronoun carrietions which had contributed to impair the value of the British constitu- tion ; but he certainly was anxious that a salutary and effective check should be found in the less popular of the legislative bodies, on the occasional rash and hasty im- pulses of the other. He was favourable to a senato chosen for life ; to a federal government sutficiently strong to enforce its decrees in spite of party oj»position, and the conflicting jealousies of the ditierent States ; to a representation rather founded on proi)erty and intelli- gence than m more numl)ers ; and perhaps of the two evils, wouM ha\e preferred the tyranny of a single dic- tator, to tl-; more degrading despotism of a mob. Hamilt'-n was snatched from liis country in the prime of life and of intellect. Had he lived, it is diffi- cult to foresee what influence his powerful mind might have exercised on the immediate destinies of his country. By his talents and vnirivalled powers as an orator, ho might hn'ie gained lair audience, and some favour, for his opinions. But this couhl not have been lasting. His doc- trines of government in their very nature were necessarily ui^iopular. The Federalist jvirty from the first occupied a false position. They attempted to convince the nnil- titude of their unfitness for the exercise of political power. This of course failed. The influence they ob- tained in the period immetliately succecLling the Ile\ olu- ■M I MONUMENT IN TRINITY CHURCH. 29 anticipated imilton saw lotlior (juar- t monarchy, his country )ro, desirous )e framed as hand, which, >nnd to pro- rtv. It is a lated the in- [is which hiul ish constitu- salutary and opuhar of the nd hasty iui- to a senate , t sutticiently ■y o[)position, it States; to y and intelli- s of the two a single dic- 11 mob. intry in the ed, it is ditii- l mind might >f his country, an orator, he tVivour, for his nff. His doc- re necessarily first occupied inee the mul- ie of political ence thev oh- tion, was solely that of talent and character, Bf !;:? personal, it died with the men, and sometimes ^ vi " them. It was impossible for human efforts to di jniih the democratic impulse given by the Revolution, or to I j long successful in retarding its increase. In the very first struggle, the Federalists were defeated once and for ever, and the tenure of power by the Republican party has ever since, with one brief and partial exception, continued unbroken. There is another tomb which I would notice before quitting the churchyard of Trinity. On a slab, sur- mounting an oblong pile of masonry, are engraved the following Avords : MY MOTHER. ■^1 THE TRUiMPET SHALL SOUND, AND THE DEAD SHALL ARISE. This is the whole inL.ription ; and as I read the words I could not but feel it to be sublimely affecting. The name of him Avho erected this simple monument of filial piety, or of her whose dust it covers, is unpreserved by tradition. Why should that bo told which the world cares not to know? It is enough that the nameless tenant of this humble grave shall be known, " when the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall arise." Let us [trust, that the mother and her child will then be ro- [united, to part no more. One of the earliest occupations of a traveller in a strange city, is to visit the theatres. There are three ^n New York, and I am assured that both actors and lanagers prosper in their vocation. Such a circum- stance is not insignificant. It marks opulence and com- fort, and proves that the great body of the people, after )roviding the necessaries of life, possess a surjtlus, which they feel at liberty to lavish on its enjoyments. I have 30 THEATRES — ACTORS. already been several times to the Park Theatre, which is considered the most fashionable. The house is very comfortable, and well adapted both for seeing and hear- ing. On my first visit, t!ie piece was Dor Freischutz, winch was very wretchedly performed. The fjirco was new to me, and, I imagine, of American origin. The chief character is a poinpous old baronet, very proud of his family, and exceedingly tenacious of respect. In his old age he has the folly to think of marrying, and the still greater folly to imagine the attractions of his per- son and pedigree irresistible. As may bo anticipated, he is the laughing-stock of the i)iece. Insult and ridi- cule follow hiin in every scene ; he is kicked and cuffed to the hearty content of the audience, who return home full of contempt for the English aristocracy, and chuck- ling at the thought that there are no baronets in Ame- rica. My curiosity was somewhat excited by the high repu- tation which an actor named Forrest has ai(iuired in this country. As a tragedian, in the estimate of all Ai, >- rican critics, he is without blemish, and without rival. To place him on a level with Kean, or Y 'ung, or Kem- ble, or Macready, would be coni^idered us an unwar- ranted derogation from his merits. I have since seen this rara avis, and coiuess that the praise so profusely lavished does appear somewhat gratui- tous. To me he seemed a coarse and vulgar actor, without grace, without dignity, with little flexibility of feature, and utterly commonplace in his conceptions of character. There is certainly some energy about him, but this is sadly given to degenerate into rant. The audience, however, were enraptured. Every increase of voice in the actor was followed by louder thunders from box, i)it, and gallery, till it sometimes became matter of serious calculation, how much longer one's tympanum could stand the crash. I give my impression of this gentle- man's histriomc merits the more freely, because I know 11 FIRES IN NEW YORK. 31 was he is too firmly ostahlishod in the high opinion of liis countrymen, to bo susceptible of injury from the criti- cism of a foreigner, with all his prejudices, inherent and attributive. ]\n-haps indeed he owes something of the admiration which follows him on the stage, to the excel- lence of his character in pi'ivate life. Forrest has realized a large fortune ; and I hear from all quarters, that in the discharge of every moral and social duty, he is high- ly exenn)lary. His literary talents, I am assured, are likewise respectable. My fell()w-]iassenger, Master Burke, draws full houses every night oi' his performance. Each time I have seen him, my estimate of Ins jiowcrs has been raised. In farce, he does admirably ; but what must be said of the taste of an audience, who can e\ en tolerate the mimicry of a child, in such parts as Lear, Shylock, Richard, and lagc? No one can be four-and-twenty hoin-s in New York without hearing the alarm of fire. Indeed, a conflagra- tion here is so very ordinary an occurrence, that it is attended by none of that general anxiety and excitement which follow such a calamity in cities loss accustomed to combustion. The New York firemen are celebrated for resolution and activity ; and, as the exercise of these qi alities is always j)leasant to witness, I have made it a point to attend sill fires since my arrival. The four first were quite insignificant, indeed three of the number w^ere extinguished before my arrival, and I barely got up in time to catch a glit\ij)se of the expiring end}ers of the fourth. But in regard to the fifth, I was in better luck. Having reached the scene, more than half expecting it would turn out as trumpery an aftair as its predecessors, I had at length the satisfaction of beholding a very respectable volume of flame bursting from the windows and a roof of a brick tenement of four stories, with as large an accomj)animent of smoke, bustle, clamour, and confusion, as could reasonably bo desired. An engine 32 FIREMEN — FIRE IN NEW YORK. came up almost immediately after my arri\al, and loud cries, and the rattle of ap])roaclung wheels from either extremity of the street, gave notice that further assistance was at hand. Some time was lost in getting- water, and I should think the municipal arrangements in regard to this matter might be better managed. In a few minutes, however, the difficulty was surmounted, and the two elements were brought fairly into collision. The firemen are composed of young citizens, who, by volunteering this service, and a very severe one it is, enjoy an exemption from military duty. Certainly nothing could exceed their boldness and activity. Lad- ders were soon planted ; the walls were scaled ; furni- ture was carried from the house, and thrown from the windows, without apparent concern for the effects its descent might produce on the skulls of the spectators in the street. Fresh engines were continually coming up, and, brought into instant play, lint as tho power of water waxed, so, unfortunately, did that of the adverse element ; and, so far as the original building Avas con- cerned, the odds soon became Pompey's pillar to a stick of sealing-wax on fire. Day now closed, and the scene amid the darkness became greatly increased in i)ieturesquo beauty. At intervals human figures were seen striding through flame, and then vanishing amid the smoke. In tlie street, con- fusion became worse confounded. Had the crowd been composed of Stentors, the clamour could not have been louder. The inhabitant* of the adjoining houses, who, till now, seemed to have taken the matter very coolly, at length became alarmed, when the engines began to })lay on them, and ejected a torrent of chairs, wardrobes, feather-beds, and other valuable chattels from every available aperture. The house in which the fire broke out was now a mere shell ; the roof gone, and all the wooden work consumed. The flames then burst forth in the roof of an adjoining tenement, but the conccn- FREQUENCY OF FIRES. 33 trated play of many engines soon subdued it. All dan- ger was then at an end. The inhabitants began to reclaim the furniture which they had tumbled out into the street, and I have no doubt went afterwards to bed as comfortably as if notliing had happened. I saw seve- ral of the inmates of the house that had been burned, and examined their countenances with some curiosity. No symptom of excitement was apparent, and I gave them credit for a degree of nonchalance far greater than I should have conceived possible in the circumstances. On the whole, I have no deduction to make from the praises so frequently bestowed on the New York fire- men. The chief defect that struck me was, the admis- sion of the crowd to the scene of action. This caused, and must always cause, confusion. In England, bar- riers are thrown across the street at some distance, and rigorously guarded by the police and constables. On suggesting this improvement to an American friend, he agreed it would be desirable, but assured me it was not calculated for the meridian of the United States, where exclusion of any kind is always adverse to the popular feeling. On this matter of course I cannot judge ; but it seems to me evident, that if the exclusion of an idle mob from the scene of a fire increases the chance of saving property and life, the freedom thus pertinaciously insisted on, is merely that of doing private injury and public mischief. With regard to the frequency of fires in New York, I confess that, after listening to all possible explanations, it does appear to me unaccountable. I am convinced that in this single city there are annually more fires than occur in the whole island of Great Britain. The com- bustible materials of which the majority of tlie houses are composed, is a circumstance far from sufficient to account for so enormous a disparity. Can we attribute it to crime? I think not; at least it would require much stronger evidence than has yet been discovered to war- C I 34 FESTIVAL AT NEW YORK. rant the hypothesis. In the negligence of servants we have surer ground. These are generally negroes, and rarely to be depended on in any way when exempt from rigid surveillance. But I am not going to concoct a theory, and so leave the matter as I find it. CHAPTER III. NEW YORK — HCDSOR BITER. i PI w ■r, ii dp V \ The 25th of November, being the anniversary of the evacuation of the city by the British army, is always a gala-day at New York. To perpetuate the memory of this glorious event there is generally a parade of the mi- litia, some firing of cannon and small-arms, a procession of the different trades, and the day then terminates as it ought, in profuse and patriotic jollification. But on the present occasion it was determined, in addition to the ordinary cause of rejoicing, to get up a pageant of unusual splendour, in honour of the late revolution in France. This resolution, I was informed, originated ex- clusively in the operative class, or workies, as they call themselves, in contradistinction to those who live in bet- ter houses, eat better dinners, read novels and poetry, and drink old Madeira instead of Yankee rum. The latter and more enviable class, however, liaving been taught caution by experience, Avere generally disposed to consider the present congratulatory celebration as some- what premature. Finding, however, that it could not be prevently of wood, painted white, and certainly, for theii* populaiion, boast- ed an unusual nunil)er of taverns, which gave notice of their hospitality on signboards of gigantic dimensions. The business to be transacted at these places occasioned but little loss of time. Every arrangement had evidently been made to facilitate dispatch, and l)y two o'clock I found myself fairly ashore at Hyde Park, ind glad to seek shelter in the landing-house from the deluge of snow, which had already whitened the whole surface of the country. I had just begun to question the landlord about the possibility of procuring a conveyance to the place of my destination, when Dr Ilosack himself appeared, having obligingly brought his carriage for my conveyance. Though the drive from the landing-place led through a prettily variegated country, I was not miujh in the humour to admire scenery, and looked, I fear, with more indifference on the improvements past and projected, to which the Doctor directed iny attention, than would have been consistent with politeness in a warmer and more comfortable auditor. The distance, liowever, was little more than a mile, and, o" reaching the house, the disagreeables of the journey were speedily forgotten in the society of its amiable inmates, and the enjoymerc of every convenience which wealth and hospitality could supply. Dr Hosack had received his professional education in Scotland, and passed a considerable portion of his early life there. I was fortunately enabled to afford him some information relative to the companions of his early studies, several of whom have since risen to emi- nence, while others, perhaps not less meritorious, have lived and died undistinguished. In return, the Doctor was good enough to favour me, by conununicating much valuable knowledge on the state of science and tlie aits 46 VISIT TO DR HOSACK. in the United States, which I must have found great difficulty in obtaining from other sources. There is this advantage in the pursuit of science, that it tends to generate liberality of sentiment, and destroy those prejudices which divide nations far more efiectuaily than any barr'er of nature. Science is of no country, and its follovrers, wherever born, constitute a wide and diffusive community, and are linked together by ties of brotherhood and interest, which political hos- tility cannot sever. These observations Avere particu- larl}' suggested by my intercourse with Dr Hosack. Though our conversation Avas excursive, and embraced a vast variety of to])ics fairly debatable between an American and an Englishman, I could really detect nothing of national prejudice in his oj)inions. He uni- fornily spoke of the great names of Europe with admira- tion and respect ; and his allusions to the achievortonts of his countrymen in arts, arms, science, or philosophy, betrayed nothing of that vanity and exaggeration, witii which, since my arrival, I had already become somewhat familiar. The following moi-ning was bright and beautiful. The snow, except in places where the wind had drift- ed it into Avreaths, had entirely disaj)peared ; and after breakfast, I was • :lad to accept the invitation of my worthy host, to examine his demesne, which was really very beautiful and extensive. Nothing could be finer than the situation of the house. It stands upon a lofty terrace overhanging the Hudson, whose noble stream lends richness and grandeur to the whole extejit of the foreground of the landscape. Above, its waters are seen ii} a' roach from a country finely \ariegated, but un- maf';ed f v any peculiar boldness of feature, lielow, it is trst: 5UIH/ ig a range of rocky ;iad wooded eminences oi liidy picturesque outline. In one direction alone, hrvivcr, is the j)rosj>ect very extensive ; and in that, (;he uorth-west,) thi Catskill Mountains, sending their DEMESNE OF DR HOSACK. 47 bald and nigged summits far up into the sky, form a glorious framework for the picture. We drove through a finely undulating; country, in which the glories of the ancient forest have been replaced hy bare fields, intersected by hideous zigzaa' fences. God meant it to be beautiful when he gave such noble varie- ties of hill and plain, wood and water ; but man seem- ed determined it should be otherwise. No beauty which the axe could remove was suffered to remain ; and wherever the tide of population reached, the havoc had been indiscriminate and unsparing. Yet, of this, it were not only useless, but ridiculous to complain. Such changes are not optional, but impe- rative. The progress of population necessarily involves them, and they must be regarded only ;mont of improving his estate. He had imported sheej) and cattle from England of the most approved breeds, and in this respect promised to be a benefactor to his neighbourhood. I am not much of a farmer, and found tlie Doctor sagacious about long horns and short legs, in a degree which injpressed me with a due consciousness of my ignorance. The farm-offices were extensive and well arranged, and con- tained some excellent horses. A pair of powerful car- riage-horses, in particular, attracted my admiration. In this country these fine animals cost only two hun- dred dollars. In London, I am sure, that under Tat- 48 FARMING IN AMERICA. tersall's hammer they would not fetch less than three hundred guineas. Hut Amei'ica is not the place for a gentleman-farmer. The price of labour is high, and besides, it cannot always be commanded at any price. The condition of society is not ripo for farming on a great scale. There will probably bo no American Mr Coke for some centuries to come. The Transatlantic Sir John Sinelairs are yet in ovo, and a long period of incubation must intervene, before we can expect them to crack the shell. As things at present stand, small farmers could beat the gi-eat ones out of the field. What a man })roduces by his own labour, and that of his family, he produces cheaply. What lie is compelled to hire others to per- form, is done expensively. It is always the interest of the latter to get as uuich, and give as little labour in exchange for it, as they can. Then arises the necessity of baililFs and overseers, fresh mouths to be fed and poc- kets to be filled, and the owner may consider himself fortunate if these are content with devouring the profits, without swallowing the estate into the bargain. Having passed two very pleasant days with my kind and hospitable friends, I again took steam on my return to New York. Dr Hosack was good enough to ac- company me on board, and introduce me to a family of the neighbourhood, who were returning from their summer residence to pass the winter in the city. In iu members, was included one of the most intelligent and accomplished ladies I have ever met in any country. The voyage, therefore, did not appear tedious, though the greater part was pertbrmed in the dark. About ten o'clock the steam-boat was alongside the quay, and 1 speedily found myself installed in my old quarters in Bunker's hotel. m tmrn*^* SEMINARY OF EDUCATION. 49 s than three CHAPTER IV. MEW YORK. Professor Grisi;omb, a nuMubcr of tho Society of Friends, was o>)liging enowgh to eouiluet mo over n largo Seiuiiiary placed undiT his inuuoiliate HUjierliitendeiice. The general plan of education is one with which, in Scotland Jit least, we are faniiliiir, mul I did not remark that my material improvement had followed its adoption in tiK- United States. To divide boys into largo classes of fifty or a hundred, in which, of course, the rate of advance- ment of tho slowest boy nnist regulate that of tho clever- est and most assiduous, does not, I confess, appear a system founded on very sound or rational j)rinciples. On this plan of retardation, it is of coiirse necessary to disco- ver some em})loyment for the boys whose talents enable them to outstrip their fellows ; and this is done by ap- pointing them to the office of monitor, or teacher, of a subdivision of the class. This mode of connnuni surely but a cruel mockery io culfivate talents, when in the present state of public feeling there is no tield open for their useful employment. Be his acquirements what they may, a Negro is still a Negro, or, in other words, a creJiture marked out for degradation, and exclusion from those objects which stimulate the hopes and powers of other men." I obser\ ed, in reply, that I was not aware that, in those States in Avhich slavery had been abolished, any such ban lor existed as that to Avhich he alluded. *• In the State of New York, for instance," I asked, " are not all offices and professic Jis open to the man of colour as well as to the white ?" " I see, sir," replied he, " that you are not a native of this country, or you woukl not have asked such a ques- tion." He then went on to inform me, that the exclu- sion in qii'3stion did not arise from any legislative enact- ment, but from the tyranny of that prejudice which, regarding the poor black as a being of inferior order, works its own fulfilment in making him so. There was no answering this, for it accorded too well with my own observations in society not to carry my implicit belief. The master then proceeded to explain the system of education adopted in the school, and subsequently afford- ed many gratifying proofs of the proficiency of his scholars. One class were employed in navigation, and worked several complicated problems with great accuracy and rapidity. A large proportion were perfectly conversant with arithmetic, and not a few with the lower mathema- tics. A long and rigid examination took place in geo- graphy, in the course of which questions were answered with facility, which I confess would have puzzled me exceedingly had they been addressed to myself. I had become so much interested in the littlp pai ti- ^T^ '^^J IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGFT (MT-3) iis 1.0 l.i ■ii IM H2.2 ^ lis 112.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1 1.6 .^ ^ 6" ^ 1*> FhotDgraphic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN .TREET WCP.STER.N.Y, 14580 (716) 872-4503 '^:v^ % 64: THE COLOURED POPULATION NOT FREE. i' i coloured crowd before me, that I reeuvred to our foi'incr discourse, and enquired of the master what would ])rol)a- l)ly become of his scholars on their beinii: sent out into the world ? Some trades — some description of labour — of course wore open to them, and I expressed my desire to know what these were. lie told me they were few. The class study inii: navij^ation were destined to ho sailors; bui, wliatcver talent they miu:ht possess, it was impossible they couUl rise to bo ofhcers of th.^ ])altriest merchantman that entered the waters of tlu> United States. The otl:ce of cook or st.^ward was indeed witli- in the scope of their ambition ; but it was just as feasible for the ])oor creatures to ex])ect to become ChanceUor of the State as mate of a ship. In other pursuits it was the same. Some would beconu^ stone-masons, or brick- layers ; and to the extent of carryinc^ a hod, or hand- lings a trowel, the course was clear before them ; luJt the office of master-bricklayer was o])en to tluMr in precisely the same sense as the Professorship of Natural Philoso- phy. No wliite artificer would servo luidor a coloured master. The most dcfjraded Irish emisfrant would scout the idea with indignation. As carpenters, shoemakers, or tjiilors, they were still arrested by the same barrier, In either of the latter cajiacities, indeed, they might work for people of their own complexion ; but no gentle- man would ever think of ordering garments of any sort from a Schneider of cuticle less white than his own. Grocers they might be ; but then who could conceive the possibility of a respectable household matron purchasing tea or spiceries from a vile " Nigger ?" As barbei's they were more fortunate, and in that capacity might even enjoy the privilege of taking the Presicient of the United States by the nose. Throughout the Union, the depart- ment of domestic service pecidiarly belongs to tliem, though recently they are beginning to find rivals in the Irish emigrants, wlio come annually in swarms like locusts. SUBJECTED TO THE SLAVERY OF OriNION. 55 On tho wliole^ I cannot help considering it a mistake to suppose that slavery lias been abolislicl in the North- ern States of the Union. It is true, indeed, that in these States the power of compulsory labour no longer exists ; and that one human being within their limits, can no longer claim jiroixM'ty in tho thews and sinews of an- other. IJut is tins all that is im])lied in the boon of freedom? If the word mean any thing, it must mean tho enjoyment of equal rights, an\t]i hours. Having changed my dress, and given a few directions about dinner, I sallied forth to view the city. Provi- dence is the capital of the State of Rhode Island, and contains about 25,000 inhabitants. It stands at the foot and on the brow of a hill, which commands a com- plete view of the fine bay. The great majority of the houses are built of wood, interspersed, however, with tenements of brick, and a few which are at least fronted with stone. It contains considerable cotton manufacto- ries, which — boasting no knowledge of such matters — I was not tempted to visit. The college appears a build- ing of some extent, and is finely situated on the summit of a neighbouring height. The roads were so obstruct- ed by snow, as to render climbing the ascent a matter of mere diflficultv than I was in the humour to encoun- ter ; and so it was decreed that Brown's College should remain by me unvisited. The first settlement of Providence is connected with a melancholy instance of human inconsistency. The Pilgrim Fathers, as they are called, had left their coun- try, to find in the wilds of the New World that religious toleration which had been denied them in the Old. Rut no sooner had these victims of persecution established themselves in New England, than in direct and flagrant violation, not only of all moral consistency, but of the II m If r ■Ml ' i 1 r; j. . i il |t Il-'- i!i ' il !|h : 1 ffl M ' ^iiffi ' KjiM ii y^ 82 BUILDINGS IN PROVIDENCE. whole scope and spirit of the Christian religion, they became persecutor, m their turn. Soeinians and Qua- kers — all, in short, who differed from them in opinion, wero driven forth with outrage and violence. Among the number was Roger Williams, a Puritan clergyman, who ventured to expose what he considered " evidence of backsliding-"' in the churches of Massachusetts. The clergy at first endeavoured to put him down by argu- ment and remonstrance ; the attempt failed, and it was then determined that the civil authority should free the orthodox population from the dangerous presence of so able and sturdy a polemic. Roger Williams was ba- nished, and, followed by a few of his people, continued to wander in the wilderness, till, coming to a place call- ed by the Indians Mooshausic, he there pitched his tabernacle, and named it Providence. Such are a few of the circumstaiices connected with the first establishment of the State of Rhode Island. The light in which they exhibit human nature is not flattering; yet they only afford another proof, if such were wanted, of the natural connexion between bigotry and persecution, and that the victims of political or religious oppression, too often want only the power to become its ministers. The only building which makes any pretension to architectural display is the arcade, faced at either extre- mity with an Ionic portico. Judging by the eye, the shaft of the columns is in the proportion of the Grecian Doric, an order beautiful in itself, but which, of course, is utterly barbarized by an Ionic entablature. By the way, I know not any thing in which the absence of taste in America is more signally displayed than in their archi- tecture. The country residences of the wealthier citi- zens are generally adorned with pillars, which often ex- tend from the basement to the very top of the house, (some three or four stories,) supporting, and pretending to support, nothing. The consequence is, that the pro- portions of these columns are very much those of the KVi RAISING A HOUSE. 83 stfJk of a tobacco-pipe, and it is difficult to conceive any thing more unsightly. Even in the public buildings, there is often an obtrusive disregard of every recognised principle of proportion ; and clamorous demands are made on the admiration of foreigners, in behalf of build- ings which it is impossible to look upon without instant and unhesitating condemnation. In a seaport one generally takes a glance at the har- bour, to draw some conclusions, however uncertain, with regard to the traffic of the place. The guide-books declare, that Providence has a good deal of foreign commerce. It may be so, but in the bay I could only count two square-rigged vessels, and something under a score of sloops and schooners. I must not forget to mention, having witnessed to- day the progress of an operation somewhat singular in character. This was nothing less than raising a large tenement, for the purpose of introducing another story below. The building was of framework, with chim- neys of brick, and consisted of two houses connected by the gable. The lower part of one was occupied as a warehouse, which seemed well filled with casks and cot- ton-bags. I stood for some time to observe the pro- gress of the work. The process adopted was this : The building was first raised by means of a succession of wedges inserted below the foundation. Having thus gained the requisite elevation, it was maintained there by supports at each corner, and by means of screws pressing laterally on the timbers. At the time I saw it, the building had been raised about five feet into the air, and the only mode of ingress or egress was by ladders. On looking with some curiosity at the windov s, I soon gathered enough to convince me that the Lihabitants were engaged in their usual domestic avocations, with- out being at all disturbed bjr their novel position in the atmosphere. As for the warehouse, tlie business of buying and selling had apparently encountered no in- 1' : !1 '11 i!l ii 84 DINNER AT THE HOTEL. terruption. On the whole, the operation, though simple, struck me as displaying a very considerable degree of mechanical ingenuity. Having finished my ramble, 1 returned to the inn, where a very tolerable dinner awaited my appearance. It was the first time I had dined alone since leaving England, and, like my countrymen generally, I am dis- posed to attach considerable importance to the i)rivilege of choosing my dinner, and the hour of eating it. It is only when alone that one enjoys the satisfaction of feel- ing that he is a distinct unit in creation. At a public ordinary he is but a fraction, a decimal at most, but very probably a centesimal, of a huge masticating monster, with the appetite of a Mastodon or a Behemoth. He labours under the conviction, that his meal has lost in dignity what it has gained in profusion. He is consorted involuntarily wdth people to whom he is bound by no tie but that of temporary necessity, and with whom, ex- cept the immediate impulse of brutal appetite, he has probably nothing in common. A man, like an Ameri- can, thus diurnally mortified and abased from his youth upwards, of course knows nothing of the high thoughts which visit the imagination of the solitary, who, having finished a good dinner, reposes with a full consciousness of the dignity of his nature, and the high destinies to which he is called. The situation is one which natu- rally stinmlates the whole inert mass of his speculative benevolence. He is at peace with all mankind ; for he reclines on a well-stufibd sofii, and there are wine and walnuts on the table. He is on the best terms with himself, and recalls his own achievements in arms, lite- rature, or philosophy, in a spirit of the most benign complacency. If he look to the future, the prospect is bright and unclouded. If he revert to the past, its " written troubles," its ijiilures and misfortunes, are erased from the volume, and his memories are exclusive- ly those of gratified power. He is in his slippers and RENCONTRE WITH CAPTAIN RENNET. 85 comfortable rohe-de-cJiamhre ; and what to him, at such a moment, are the world and its ambitions ? I appeal to the philosopher, and he answers — " Nothing!" It was in such condition of enjoyment, physical and intellectual, that I was interrupted by the entrance of my servant, to inform me that he had just met Captain Bennot on the stairs, who, learning that I was at dinner, had obligingly expressed his intention of favouring me with a vii-it at the conclusion of my meal. I i.nmedi- ately returned assurance, that nothing could afford me greater pleasure ; and in a few minutes I had the satis- faction of exchanging a friendly grasp with this kind r ad intelligent sailor. In the course of our tete-d-tete, he informed m*" that he was travelling from his native town. New Bedford, to Boston, in company with Mrs Bennet, to whjm he was good enough to offer me the privilege of an introduction. I accordingly accompa- nied the Captain to his apartment, where I passed a pleasant evening, and retired, gratified by the intelli- gence that they were to proceed on the following morn- ing by the same vehicle in which I had already secured places. To travel with Captain Bennet was, in truth, not only a pleasure, but an advantage ; for being a New Englander, he was enabled, in the course of our jour- ney, to communicate many particulars with regard to his native province, which, though most useful in direct- ing the opinions of a traveller, could scarcely, perhaps, have fallen within the immediate sphere of his observa- tions. On the following morning we were a-foot betimes, and after a tolerable breakfast at a most unchristian hour, left Providence at seven o'clock, and I enjoyed my first introvjction to an American stage-coach. Though what an Englishman, accustomed to the luxuries of " light pc jt-coaches" and Macadamized roads, might not unreasonably consider a wretched vehicle, the one in question was not so utterly abominable as to leave a I m ii < ' 1 A ■ V 86 AMERICAN STAGE-COACH. Frenchman or an Italian any fair cause of complaint. It was of ponderous proportions, built wivh timbers, I should think, about the size of those of an ordinary waggon, and was attached by enormous straps to certain massive ironsii, which nothing in the motion of the carriage could induce the traveller to mistake for springs. The sides of this carriage were simply curtains of leather, which, when the heat of the weather is inconvenient, can be raised to admit a freer ventilation. In winter, however, the advantages of this contrivance are more than apo- cryphal. The wind penetrates through a hundred small crevices, and with the thermc leter below zero, this freedom of circulation is not found to add materi- ally to the pleasures of a journey. The complement of passengers inside was nine, divided into three rows, the middle seat being furnished with a strap, removable at pleasure, as a back support to the sitters. The driver also receives a companion on the box, and the charge for this place is the same as for those in the interior. The whole machine, indeed, was exceedingly clumsy, yet per- haps not more so than was rendered necessary by the barbarous condition of the road on which it travelled. The horses, though not handsome, were strong, and ap- parently well adapted for their work ; yet I could not help smiling, as I thought of the impression the whole set-out would be likely to produce on an English road. The flight of an air-balloon would create far less sensa- tion. If exhibited as a specimen of a fossil carriage, buried since the Deluge, and lately discovered by Pro- fessor Buckland, it might pass without question as the family-coach in which Noah conveyed his establishment to the ark. Then the Jehu ! A man in rusty black, with the appearance of a retired gravedigger ! Never was such a coachman seen within the limits of the four seas. Though the distance is only forty miles, we were eight hours in getting to Boston. The road I remember ^m JOURNEY TO BOSTON — PAWTUCKET. 87 to have set down, at the time, as the very worst in the world — an opinion which my subsequent experience as a traveller in the United States, has long since in- duced me to retract. It abounded in deep ruts, and huge stones, which a little exercise of the hammer might have converted into excellent material. English readers may smile when one talks seriously of the pun- ishment of being jolted in a stage-coach ; but to arrive at the end of a journey with bruised flesh and aching bones, is, on the whole, not particularly pleasant. For myself, I can truly say, that remembering all I have occasionally endured in the matter of locomotion on the American continent, the martyr to similar sufferings shall always enjoy my sincere sympathy. On the present occasion, to say nothing of lateral concussion, twenty times at least was I pitched up with violence against the roof of the coach, which, being as ill provided with stuffing as the cushions below, occasioned a few changes in my phrenological developments. One of the passengers, however — a grave valetudinarian — assured me, that such unpleasant exercise was an admirable cure for dyspepsia, and that, when suffering under its attacks, he found an unfailing remedy in being jolted over some forty or fifty miles of such roads as that we now travelled. At the moment, I certainly felt more inclined t d pity him for the remedy than the disease. There had been thaw during the night, and the greater part of the snow had disappeared. The country through which we passed was prettily varied in surface, but the soil was poor and stony, and the extent to which wood had been suffered to grow on land formerly subjected to the plough, showed it had not been found to repay the cost of tillage. About four miles from Providence, we passed the village of Paw tucket. It is one of the chief seats of the cotton manufacture in the United States. The aspect of the place is not unpleasing, and I count- ed about a dozen factories of considerable size. The m ;i ^li, 88 ARRIVAL AT BOSTON. houses of the workmen appear neat and comfortable. I was informed, however, by my fellow-traveLers, that within the last eighteen months every establishment in the place had become bankrupt ; a proof, I should ima- gine, that the success of the Tariflf system has not been very brilliant. During our journey there was a good deal of conver- sation in the coach, in which I was physically too uneasy to bear any considerable part. I was amused, however, at the astonishment of a young Connecticut farmer, when Captain Bennet informed him, that in England, the white birch-tree — which, in this part of the world, is A'tigarded as a noxious weed — is protected in artificial plantations with great care. He was evidently incredu- lous, though he had before made no difficulty in believing the numerous absurdities in law, polity, and manners, attributed — whether with truth or otherwise — to my countrymen. But to plant the white birch-tree ! Tliis, indeed, was beyond the limits of belief. The road, as we approached Boston, lay through a more populous country, and we passed a height which commanded a fine view of the bay. At length, entering on a long street, I found myself again surrounded by the busy hum of a great city. The first impression was decidedly favourable. There is in Boston loss of that raw- ness of outline, and inconsistency of architecture, which had struck me in New York. The truth is, that the latter has increased so rapidly, that nine-tenths of the city have been built within the last thirty years, and pro- bably one-half of it within a third of the period. In Boston, both wealth and ])opulation have advanced at a slower pace. A comparatively small portion of the city is new, and the hand of time has somewhat mellowed even its deformities, contributing to render that reverend which was originally rude. There is an air of gravity and solidity about Boston, and nothing gay or flashy in the appearance of her streets, wm TREMONT HOTEL — ^AMERICAN INNS. 89 or the crowd who frequent them. New York is a young giantess, weighing twenty stone, yet frisky withal ; Bos- ton, a matron of staid and demure aspect, a little past her prime perhaps, yet showing no symptom of decay. The former is brisk, bustling, and annually outgrowing her petticoats. The latter, fat, fair, and forty, a great breeder, but turning her children out of doors as fast as she produces them. But it is an old and true apo- phthegm, that similes seldom run on all-fours, and ^here- fore it is generally prudent not to push them too far. Most gratifying is it to a traveller in the United States, when, sick to death of the discomforts of the road, he finds himself fairly housed in the Tremont hotel. The establishment is on a large scale, and aJuiirably conducted. I had no difficulty in procuring a small but very comfortable suite of apartments, deficient in nothing which a single gentleman could require. What is more, I enjoyed the blessing of rational liberty ; had command of my own hours and motions ; in short, could eat, drink, or sleep, at what time, in what manner, and on what substances, I might prefer. The truth is, that instead of being free, a large pro- portion of the American people live in a state of tht most degrading bondage. No liberty of tong'je can compensate for vassalage of stomach. In their o^^^^ houses, perhaps, they may do as they please, though I much doubt whether any servants would consent to live in a family who adopted the barbarous innovation of dining at six o'clock, and breakfasting at eleven. But on the road, and in their hotels, they are assuredly any thing but freemen. Their hours of rest and refection are there dictated by Boniface, the most rigorous and iron-hearted of despots. And surely never was monarch blessed with more patient and obedient subjects ! He feeds them in droves like cattle. He rings a bell, and they come like dogs at their master's whistle. He places before them what he thinks proper, and they swallow it ■ ^ i ■ > 11 11 fti'i Mi li -J- ■S ■' j i 1' . ',W v.'M if i '".?i i j: •; j 90 APPEARANCE OF BOSTON. [n without grumbling. His decrees are as those of fate, and the motto of his establishment is, " Submit or starve." No man should travel in the United States without one of Baraud's best chronometers in his fob. In no other country can a slight miscalculation of time be pro- ductive of so nmch miscliief. Woe to him whose steps have been delayed, by pleasure or business, till the fatal hour has elapsed, and the dinner-cloth been removed ! If he calculate on the emanation from the kitchen of smoking chop or spatchcock, he will be grievously de- ceived. Let him not look with contempt on half coagu- lated soup, or fragments of cold fish, or the rhomboid of greasy pork which has been reclaimed from the stock- barrel for his behoof. Let him accept in meekness what is set before him, or be content to go dinnerless for the day. Such are the horns of the dilemma, and he is free as air to choose on which he will be impaled.* On the morning following my arrival, I dispatched my letters of introduction, and walked out to see the city. Of its appearance I have already said something, but have yet a little more to say. Boston stands on an undulating surface, and is bounded on three sides by the sea. The harbour is a magnificent basin, encircled by a • It is fair, however, to state, that in the hotels in the greater cities, private apartments can generally be obtained. The charge for these is about as high as in London, and the privilege of separate meals is also to be paid for. To give the reader some idea of the expense of such mode of living in the United States, I may state, that in New York, with nothing but an inferior bedroom, and living at the public table, the charge for myself and servant was eighteen dollars a-week. At Bos- ton, with three excellent rooms, and the privilege of private meals, it Amounted, incluiUng every thing except wine, to thirty-five. At Phi- ladelphia, I paid twenty-six dollars ; at Baltimore, twenty-eight ; at Washington, forty; the extent of accommodation nearly equal in all. It is tiie invariable custom in the United States to charge by the day or week ; and travellers are thus obliged to pay for meals whether they eat them or not. For a person who, like myself, rarely dined at home, I remember calculating the charge to be higher than in Long's or the Clarendon. king's chapel. 91 beautiful country, rising in gentle acclivities, and stud- ded with villas. There is nothing very handsome about the town, which is rather English in appearance, and might in truth be easily ^uistaken for one of our more populous seaports. A considerable number of the build- ings are of granite, or, more properly speaking, of sien- it^ but brick is the prevailing material, and houses of framework arc now rarely to be met Avith in the st'^eeta inhabited by the better orders. The streets are narrow, and often crooked ; yet, as already stated, they exhibit more finish and cleanliness than are to be found in New York. In architecture, I could discover little to admire. The State-house stands on an eminence commanding the city ; it is a massive square building, presenting in front a piazza of rusticated ai ohes, surmounted by a gra- tuitous range of Corinthian columns, which support no- thing. The building in front has a small attic with a pediment, and from the centre rises a dome, the summit of which is crowned by a square lantern. The Tromont hotel, and a church in the same street, are likewise pointed out to strangers as worthy of all the spare admiration at their disposal. The latter is a plain building, rather absurdly garnished, along its whole front, with a row of Ionic columns, stuck in close to the wall, which tiiey are far from concealing ; and, to in- crease the deformity, above these columns rises a naked square tower, intended, I presume, for a belfry. An anecdote connected with this place of worship, however, is worth preserving : it was formerly called the King's Chapel, and belonged to a congregation holding the tenets of the Church of England. In this state of things a rich old gentleman died, bequeathing by his last testament a considerable sum, to be expend- ed in defraying the charge of a certain number of annual discourses " on the Trinity." The testator having lived and died in the communion of the Church of Eng- land, of course no doubt could be entertained of his h I m 1 1 t ^^ I V-H 92 ARCHITECTURE. intention in the bequest ; but the Revolution took plaoo, and, at the restoration of peace, the congregation of the King's Chapel were found to have cast ofl" both king and creed, anil become not only Republicans in politics, but Unitarians in religion. Under these eireuinstances, what was to be done witii the legacy ? This did not long remain a moot point. It was discovered that a Unita- rian could ]>reach sermons on the Trinity as well as the most orthodox Athanasian that ever mounted a pulpit ; and the effect of the testator's zeal for the dlft'usion of pure faith, has l)een to encourage the dissemination of doctrines which of course he regarded as fjdse and damn- able ! The old gentleman had better have left his money to his relations. I have been too well satisfied with the good living of the Tremont hotel, not to feel grieved to be compelled to speak disparagingly of its architecture. I beg to say, however, that I allude to it only because I have heard its construction gravely praised by men of talent and intelligence, as one of the ])i'oudest achievements of American genius. The edifice is of fine sienite, and I imagine few parts of the world can supply a more beauti- ful material for building. In front is a Doric portico of four columns accurately proportioned, but, as usual, with- out pediment. These have not sufficient projection, f»nd seem as if they had been thrust back upon the walls of the building by the force of some gigantic steam-engine. The dining-hall, which is here the chief object of admi- ration, is defective both in point of taste and proportion. The ceiling, in the first place, is too low ; and then the ranges of Ionic columns, which extend the whole length of the apartment, are mingled with antaj of *\q Composite order; thus defacing,by the intermixture o. • late Roman barbarism, the purer taste of Greece. But it were mere waste of time and patience to enlarge on such matters. My letters of introduction soon fructified into a plen- tiful harvest of visits and invitations. I discerned, or L mm S ttjj m ui MiiA DIVINE SERVICE. 93 thought T (liscernod, some diffbronco of manner botweoii the gentlemen of Iio«ton and those of New York. For the first five minutes, perhaps, the former seemed hiss pleasing ; but my opinion in this respeet soon clianged, and I certainly now class many of my Boston friends, not only among the most liberal and eiiliglitune among my acquaintance. The sermon was elegant, but somewhat cold and unemphatic. Indeed, how could it be otherwise ? A Unitarian is necessarily cut off from all appeals to those deeper sources of feeling, which, in what is called Evangelical preaching, are found to pro- duce such powerful effects. No spirit was ever strongly moved by a discourse on the innate beauty of virtue, or arguments in favour of moral purity, drawn from the harmony of the external world. The inference that man should pray because the trees blossom and the birds sing, is about as little cogent in theory as the experience of mankind has proved it in practice. The sequitur would be quite as good were it asserted that men should wear spectacles because bears eat horse-flesh, and os- triches lay eggs in the sand. But, admitting the con- clusion to be clear as the daylight, the disease of h uman depravity is too strong to be overcome by the adminis- tration of such gentle alteratives. Recourse must be had to stronger medicines, and these, unfortunately, the chest of the Unitarian does not furnish. Boston is the metropolis of Unitarianism. In no other city has it taken root so deeply, or spread its branches so widely. Fully half of the population, and more than half of the wealth and intelligence of Boston, are found in this communion. I was at one time puzzled to ac- count for this ; but my jouniey to New England has removed the difficulty. The New Englanders are a cold, shrewd, calculating, and ingenious people, of phlegmatic temperament, and perhaps have in their composition less of the stuff of which enthusiasts are made than any other in the world. In no other part of the globe, not even in Scotland, is morality at so high a premium. Nowhere is undeviating compliance with public opinion so unspa- ringly enforced. The only lever by which people of this character can be moved is that of argument. A New Englander is far more a being of reason than of impulse. Talk to him of what is high, generous, and > ii 1 a 96 UNITARL\JfISM IN BOSTON. noble, and he will look on you with a vacant countenance. But tell him of what is just, proper, and essential to his own wellbeing, or that of his family, and he is all ear. His faculties are always sharp ; his feelings are obtuse. Unitarianism is the democracy of religion. Its creed makes fewer demands on the faith or the imagination than that of any other Christian sect. It appeals to human reason in c v <- step of its progress ; and, while it narrows the coiiipa.-'s of miracle, enlarges that of demon- stration. Its followers have less bigotry than other religionists, because they have less enthusiasm. They refuse credence to the doctrine of one grand and uni- versal atonement, and appeal to none of tliose sudden and preternatural impulses which have given assurance to the pious of other sects. A Unitarian will take nothing for granted but the absolute and plenary efficacy of his o^vn reason in matters of religion. He is not a fanatic, but a dogmatist ; one who will admit of no distinction between the incomprehensible and the false. With such views of the Bostonians and their prevail- ing religion, I cannot hel' ^olieving that there e:;ists a curious felicity of adapta, i >. ;n both. The prosperity of Unitarianism in the N av ,. ^-l. nd States seems a cir- cumstance which a philoso^ > ' ai observer of national character might, with no great difficult)', have predicted. Jonathan chose his religion, as one does a hat, because it fitted him. We believe, however, that his head has not yet attained its full size, and confidently anticipate that its speedy enlargement will ere long induce him to adopt abetter and more orthodox covering. One of my first morning's occupations was to visit Cambridge University, about three miles distant. In this excursion I had the ndvantage of being accompanied by Professor Ticknor, who obligingly conducted me over every part of the establishment. The buildings, though not extensive, are commodious ; and the library — the largest in the United States — contains about 30,000 CAMBRIDGE UNI'TIRSITY — BUNKER'S HILL. 97 volumes ; no very imposing aggregate. The academical course is completed in four years, at the termination of which the candidates for the degree of Bachelor of Arts are admitted to that honour, after passing the ordeal of examination. In three years more the degree of Master may — as in the English universities — be taken as matter of course. There are three terms in the year, the in- tervals bdtween which amount to about three months. The nv.mber of students is somewhat under two hundred and fifty. These have the option of either living more academico in the college, or of boarding in houses in the neighbourhood. No religious tenets are taught ; but the regnant spirit is unquestionably Unitarian. In ex- tent, in opulence, and in number of students, the esta- blishment is not equal even to the smallest of our Scot- tish universities. On leaving Cambridge wo drove to Bunker's Hill, celebrated as the spot on which the first collision took place between the troops of the mother country and her rebellious colonists. It is a strong position, and, if duly strengthened by intrenchments, might be defended against an enemy of much superior force. On the sum- mit of this height a monument to the memory of Wash- ington was in progress. A more appropriate site could not have been selected. But tributes of stone or brass are thrown away upon Washington. Si momimentum quceris, clrcumspice. Our next visit was to the navy-yard, an establishment of considerable extent. There were two seventy-fours on the stocks, and, if I remember rightly, a frigate and a sloop. A dry-dock had nearly been completed, of size sufficient to receive the largest line-of-battle ship. Commodore Morris, tne commandant, was obligingly communicative, and, in the course even of a short con- versation, attbrded abundant proof that his acquirements were very tar from being exclusively professional. On the day following I went, accompanied by a very G ■II ■ iv I i! m li 98 CHARLESTON PRISOy. kind friend, to see the State-prison at Charleston. The interesting description given by Captain Hall of the prison at Sing- Sing had raised my curiosity, and I felt anxious to inspect an establishment, conducted on the same general principle, and with some improvements in detail. It was difficult to conceive that a system of dis- cipline so rigid could be maintained, without a degree of severity revolting to the feelings. That hundreds of men should live together for years in the daily associa- tion of labour, under such a rigorous and unbroken sys- tem of restraint as to prevent them, during all that pe- riod, from holding even the most trifling intercourse, seemed a fact so singular, and in such direct opposition to the strongest propensities of human nature, as to re- quire strong evidence to establish its credibility. I was glad to take advantage, therefore, of the first opportu- nity to visit the prison at Charleston, and the scene there presented was unquestionably one of the most striking I have ever witnessed. Pleasant it was not ; for it cannot be so to witness the degradation and suf- ferings of one's fellow-creatures. In no part of the establishment, however, was there any thing squalid or oft'ensive. The jailer — one expects hard features in such an official — was a man of mild expression, but of square and sinewy frame. He had formerly been skipper of a merchantman, and it was impossible to compliment him on the taste displayed in his change of profession. Before proceeding on the circuit of the prison, ho communicated some interesting details in regard to its general management, and the principles on which it was conducted. The prisoners amounted to nearly three hund"ed; the keepers were only fourteen. The disparity of force, therefore, was enormous ; and as the system adopted was entirely opposed to that of solitary confinement, it did, at first sight, seem strange that the convicts — the greater part of whom were men of the boldest and most SYSTEM OF DISCIPLINE — BUILDINGS. 99 abandoned character — should not take advantage of their vast physical superiority, and, by murdering the keepers, regain their liberty. A cheer, a cry, a signal, would be enough ; tliey had wenpons in their hands, and it required but a momentary erfbrt of one-tenth of their number to break the chains of perhaps the most galling bondage to which human beings were over subjected. In what, then, consisted the safety of the jailer and his assistants ? In one circumstance alone. In a sur- veillance so strict and unceasing, as to render it physi- cally impossible, by day or night, for the prisoners to hold the slightest communication, without discovery. They set their lives upon this cast. They knew the penalty of tho slightest negligence, and they acted like men who knew it. The buildings enclose a quadrangle of about two luuiilred feet square. One side is occupied by a build- ing, in which are the cells of the prisoners. It contains three hundred and four solitarv cells, built alto2,ether of stone, and arranged in four stories. Each cell is secured by a door of wrought-iron. On the sides where the cell-doors present themselves, are stone galleries, three feet wide, su[)ported by cast-iron pillars. These gal- leries extend the Avhole length of the building, and encircle three sides of these ranges of cells. The fuurth presents only a perpendicular avuII, without galleries, stairs, or doors. Below, and exterior to the cells and galleries, runs a passage nine feet broad, from which a complete view of the whole can be commanded. The cells have each a separate ventilator. They are seven feet long, three feet six inches wide, and contain an iron bedstead. On one side, considerably elevated, is a safety watch-box, with an alarum-bell, at the com- mand only of the jailer on duty. In front of the build- ing, or rather between the building and tho central quadrangle, is the kitchen, communicating, by doors and windows, with a passage, along which the prisoners ii ti iil! : 100 EMPLOYMENT OF THE PRISONERS. must necessarily travel in going to or returning from their cells. Adjoining is a chapel, in which the convicts attend prayers twice a-day. In regard to the system of discipline enforced in this interesting establishment, it may be better described in other words than my own. The following is an extract from the annual report of the Boston Prison Discipline Society : — " From the locking up at night till c- ay light, all the convicts, except an average of about five in the hospital, are in the new building, in separate cells, and in cells so arranged that a sentinel on duty can pre- serve entire silence among three hundred. The space around the cells being open from the ground to the roof, in front of four stories of cells, in a building two hundred feet in length, furnishes a perfect sounding gallery, in which the sentinel is placed, who can hoar a whisper from the most dista it cell He can, therefore, keep silence from the time of lock ig up at night to the time of unlocking in the r lorning, which, at some sea- sons of the year, makes more than one half of all the time, which is thus secured from evil communication. From the time of unlocking in the morning, about twelve minutes are occupied in a military movement of the convicts, in companies of thirty-eight, wuth an officer to each company, in perfect silence, to their various places of labour. At the end of that period, it is found that there is a place for every man, and every man in , his place. This is as true of the olfficers as of the con- victs. If an officer have occasion to leave his place, the system requires that a substitute be called; if a con- vict have occasion to leave his place, there is a token provided for each shop, or for a given number of men, so that from this shop or number only one convict can leave his place at a time. The consequence is, that with the exception of those who have the tokens in their hands, any officer of the institution may be certain of finding, during the hours of labour, a place for every I HOURS OF LABOUR. 101 man, and every man in his place. There is, however, a class c^ men, consisting of ten or twelve, called runners and lumpers, whose duty consists in moving about the yard. But even their movements are in silence and order. Consequently, during the hours of labour, the convicts are never soon moving about the yard promis- cuously, 'or assembled in little groups, in some hiding- places of mischief, or even two and two in common conversation. All is order and silence, except the busy noise of industry during the hours of labour. " The hours of labour in the morning vary a little with the season of the year, but amount at this season to nearly two hours, from the time of unlocking in the morning till breakfast. "When the hour for breakfast comes, almost in an instant the convicts are all seen marching in solid and silent columns, with the lock- step, under their respective officers, from the shops to the cells. On their way to the cells they pass the cookery, where the food, having been made ready, is handed to them as they pass along ; and at the end of about twelve minutes from the time of ringing the bell for breakfast, all the convicts are in their cells eat- ing their breakfasts, silently and alone. One officer only is left in charge to preserve silence, and the others are as free from solicitude and care, till the hour for labour returns, as other citizens. " When the time of labour again returns, which is at the end of about twenty-five minutes, almost in an in- stant the whole body of convicts are again seen marching as before to their places of labour. On their way to the shops, they pass through the chapel and attend prayers. The time from breakfast till dinner passes away like the time for labour before breakfast, all the convicts being found in their places industriously employed in silence . The time assigned for dinner is filled up in the same manner as the time assigned for breakfast ; and the time for labour in the afternoon, in the same manner as .! •■ i| V IB m 1 yii 1 k' hi i! SI 11 102 PRISON REGULATIONS. the time for labour in the morning ; and when the time for evening prayers has come, at the ringing of the boll, all the convicts, and all the officers not on duty else- where, are seen marching to the chapel, wher? the chap- lain closes tne day Avith reading the Scriptures and prayer. After -"vhich, the convicts march -with perfect silence and order to their cells, taking their supper as they pass along. In about five-ar-.l-twenty minutes from the time of leaving their labour, the convicts have attended prayers in the chajiel, taken their supper, marched to their cells with their supper in their hands, and are safely locked up for the night. Thir> is the his- tory of a day at Charleston ; and the history of a day is the history of a year, with the variations which are made on the Sabbath, by dispensing with the hours of labour, and substituting the hours for instruction in the Sab- bath-school, and the hours for public worship." We had hardly time to examine the arrangement of the cells, when the dinner-bell sounded, and issuing out into the quadrangle, the prisoners marched past in mili- tary array. In passing the kitchen, each man's dinner was thrust out on a sort of ledge, from which it was taken without any interruption of his progress. In less than two minutes they Avere in their " deep solitudes and awful cells," and employed in the most agreeable duty of their day — dinner. I again entered the build- ing to listen for the faintest whisper. None was to be heard ; the silence of the desert could not be deeper. In about half an hour another bell rang, and the prisoners were again a-foot. The return to labour differed in nothing from the departure from it ; but the noise of saws, axes, and hammers, soon showed thoy were now differently employed. The jailer next conducted us through the workshops. Each trade had a separate apartment. The masons were very numerous ; so were the carpenters and coopers. The tailors were employed in making clothes for their THE PRISON SYSTEM CONSIDERED. 103 companions in misfortune, and the wliole establishment had the air ratlior of a vv ell-conducted manufactoiy than of a prison. There was nothing- of deep gloom, but a good deal of callous indifference, generally observable in the countenances of the convicts. In some, however, I thought I did detect evidence of overwhelming de- pression. Yet this might be imagination, and when I pointed out the individuals to the jailer, he assured me I was mistaken. The prisoners are allowed to hold no intercourse of any kind Avith the world beyond the Avails which en- close them. It is a principle iivariably adhered to, that they shall be made to feel, that during their confine- ment — and many are confined for i '" — they are beings cut off even from the commonest symi)athie3 of mankind. I know not but that severity in this respect has been carried too far. If they are again to be turned out upon society, is it not injudicious, as it is cruel policy, to trample on the affections even of those depraved and guilty beings, and to send them forth with every tie broken which might act as a motive to reformation? What can be expected from men so circumstanced, but that they will renew their former courses, or plunge into guilt yet deeper ? On the other hand, if they are to be immured for life, the punishment can be considered as little better than gratuitous barbarity. But the great evil is, that on the utterly abandoned it falls lightly. It is the heart guilty, yet not hardened in guilt, which is still keenly alive to the gentler and purer affections, that it crushes with an oppression truly withering. And can no penalty be discovered more appropriate for the punishment of the sinner, than one which falls directly and exclusively on the only generous sympathies which yet link him to his fellow-men ? Wliy should he be treated like a brute, whose very sufferings prove him to be a man ? The whole produce of the labour of the prisoners be- !■! 104 ARBITRARY POWER OF THE JAILER. longs to the State. No portion of it is allowed to tlio prisoner on his discharge. This regulation may be judi- cious in America, where the demand for labour is so great that every man may, at any time, conniiand em- ployment ; but in Great Biitain it is different, and there to turn out a convict on the world, penniless, friendless, and without character, would be to limit his choice to the alternative of stealing or starving. Of course, a system of discipline so rigorous could not be enforced without a power of punishmert, almost arbi- trary, being vested in the jailer. The slightest infrac- tion of the prison rules, therefore, is uniformly followed by severe infliction. There is no pardon, and no im- punity, for offenders of any sort ; and here, as elsewhere, the certainty of punishment following an offence is found very much to diminish the necessity for its frequency. There is great evil, however, in this totid irresponsibility on the part of the jailer. There is no one to whom the convict, if unjustly punished, can complain ; and a power is intrusted to an uneducated man, possibly of strong passions, which the wisest and best of mankind would feel himself unfit to exercise. I cannot help thinking, therefore, that a board of inspectors should assemble at least monthly at the prison, in order to hear all com- plaints that may be made against the jailer. There is no doubt that this unpopular functionary would be sub- ject to many false and frivolous accusations. The lat- ter, however, may always be dismissed without trouble of any sort, but all plausible charges should receive rigid and impartial examination. The circumstances con- nected with the Charleston prison are precisely the most favourable for the attainment of truth. Tliere can be no concert among the witnesses to be examined — no system of false evidence got up — no plotting — no collu- sion. Here coincidence of testimony could be explained only on the hypothesis of its truth ; and this circum- stance must be quite as favourable to the jailer as to the prisoi of vindic{ I had ; regard t( morals of material ers was r benefit of fully grcj other pla ence had sequence had seen tion had habits of red unde Many present \ but of th glary, ar imprison: by the p wards th was soor pline, th soners, first yeai who iTe( impervic a chang became the Scri lated th( in the p ful offen trition, : of being ANECDOTE OF A PRISONER. 105 the prisoners. The former could never want the means of vindication, if falsely impeached. I had a gc^'l deal of conversation with the jailer in regard to the effects produced by the system on the morals of the convicts. He at once admitted that any material improvement of character in full-grown oftend- ers was rarely to bo expected ; but maintained that the benefit of the Charleston system, even in this respect, was fiiUy greater than had been found to result from any other plan adopted in the United States. His experi- ence had not led him to anticipate much beneficial con- sequence from the system of solitary confinement. He had seen it often tried, but the prisoners on their libera- tion had almost uniformly relapsed into their former habits of crime. One interesting anecdote which occur- red under his own observation, I shall here record. Many years ago, long before the establishment of the present prison system, a man of respectable connexions, but of the most abandoned habits, was convicted of bur- glary, and arrived at Charleston jail under sentence of imprisonment for life. His spirit was neither humbled by the punishment nor the disgrace. His conduct to- wards the keepers was violent and insubordinate ; and it was soon found necessary, for the maintenance of disci- pline, that he should be separated from his fellow-pri- soners, and placed in solitary confinement. For the first year he was sullen and silent ; and the clergyman, who frequently visited him in his cell, found his mind impervious to all religious impression. But by degrees a change took place in his deportment. His manner became mild and subdued ; he was often found reading the Scriptures, and both jailer and chaplain congratu- lated themselves on the change of character so manifest in the prisoner. He spoke of his past life, and the fear- ful offences in which it had abounded, with suitable con- trition, and expressed his gratitude to God, that, instead of being snatched away in the midst of his crimes, time H II I f ':ii i\ lOG ANECDOTE OF A PRISONER. had boon aflforilod liim for ropontaneo, and the attain- ment of faith hi that fjrand and itivvailini; atonoinont, by tho oftioaey of wliich even the greatest of sinners mijjlit look for ])ardon. Nothina:, in short, couhl bo more edifying than this man's conchiet and eonversation. All who saw him be- came interested in the fate of so meek a Christian, and numerous ajiplieations were made to the Governor of tho State for his j)." " )n. Tho Governor, with sueh woiinht of testimony o hhn, naturally inelined to morcy, and in a few wuoks tho man would have been undoubt- edly liberated, when on*^ day, in the middle of a reli- gious conversation, he s])rang upon th.e keeper, stabbed him in several jdaees, and having cut his throat, attempt- ed to escape. The atteni])t failed. Tlio neophyte in evangelism was brought back to his cell, and loaded with heavy irons. In this condition ho remained many years, of course without the slightest hope of liberation. At length, liis brother-in-law, a man of influence and for- tune in South Carolina, made application to tho autho- rities of Massachusetts on his behalf. lie expressed his readiness to provide for his unfortunate relative, and, if liberated, he promised, on his arrival in Charleston, to place him in a situation above all temptation to return to his former crimes. This offer was accepted ; the prisoner was set at liberty, and the jailor, who told mo tho anecdote, was directed to see him safely on board of a Charloslon packet, in which duo provision had been made for his reception. His imprisonment had extended to the long period of twenty years, during which he had never once breathed the pure air of heaven, nor gazed on the sun or sky. In the interval, Boston, which he remembered as a small town, had grown into a large city. Its advance in opulence had been still more rapid. In every thing there had been a change. The appearance, manners, tho genei which he of inanin work cott and state he never turn. In planet, su nothing. Mv inf( own wore of the nui for his c( it he bet as the c; dow, end scenery, and he be and the c looked fo] of aspect men of tl cracy of t tion, who of the car noblest sp down to 1 their dose Queues, ( cocked hi world. ' ing, of gr In short, convict t( by a feeli The r ANECDOTE OP A PRISONER. 107 manners, liabits, thoufrlits, prejudices, and o]»inion8 of the generjitioTi then li\ini;, wore ditterent t'roni all to which ho had been accustomed. Nor was the aspect of inanimate objects less altered. Streets of frame- work cottages had been replaced by handsome squares and stately edifices of brick. Gay equipages, such as he never remend)ered, met his observation at every turn. In hort, he felt like the inhabitant of anothe»* planet, suddenly cast into a world of which he knew nothing. My informant — I wish I could give the story in his own worils — deseiibed well and feelingly the progress of the num's impressions. A coach had been provided for his conveyance to the packet. On first entering it he betrayed no external symptom of emotion ; but as the carriage drove on, he gazed from the win- dow, endeavouring to recognise the features of the scenery. But in vain. He looked for marsh and forest, and he beheld streets ; he expected to cross a poor ferry, and the carriage rolled over a magnificent bridge ; he looked for men as he had left then., and he saw beings of aspect altogether different. Where were the great men of the Statehouso and the Exchange — the aristo- cracy of the dollar-bags — the Cincinnati of the llevolu- tion, who brought to the counting-house the courtesies of the camp and the parade, and exhibited the last and noblest specimens of the citizen gentleman? They had gone down to their fathers full of years and of honour, and their descendants had become as the sons of other men. Queues, clubs, periwigs, shoe-bu( kles, liair-]>owder, and cocked hats, had fled to some oth been expected in a nation so generally com- mercial. I believe the sight of the vast importations from Britain, which till the warehouses in every seaport, is accompanied with a feeling not uiiallied to envy. They would pardon us for our king and our peers, our palaces and our parade, far sooner than for oar vast manufactories, which deluge the world with their pro- duce. Such feelings are the consequence of ignorant and narrow views. In truth, every improvement in machinery which is eti'ected in Leeds or Manchester is a benetit to the world. By its agency the price of some commodity has boon lowered, and an article, perhaps essential to comfort, is thus brought within the reach of millions to whom it must othci vvise have been inacces- sible. Any sentiment of jealousy arising from the diffusion of British manufactures in their own country, is no less absurd. Every increase of importation is, in fact, an evidence of increased opulence and prosperity in the im- i; i l! II :' 4;t| 118 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. porting country. Not a bale of goods is landed at the quay of New York, without an equal value of the pro- duce of the country being exported to pay for it. Com- merce is merely a barter of equivalents, and carries this advantage, that both parties are enriched by it. Thus, a piece of muslin may be more valuable in America than a bag of cotton ; while in England the superiority of value is on the side of the latter. It is evident, there- fore, that if these two articles be exchanged, both parties are gainers ; both receive a greater value than they have given, and the mass of national opulence, both in Eng- land and America, has sustained a positive increase. A commerce which is not mutually advantageous, cannot be continued. No Tarift' bill — no system of resti-ic- tion, is required to put a stop to it. Governments have no reason to concern themselves about the balance of trade. They may safely leave that to individual sagacity, and devote their attention to those various interests in which legislation may at least possibly be attended with benefit. But, formidable as the difficulties are which surround the supporters of the prohibitory system, another is ap- proaching, even of greater magnitude. In two years the national debt will be extinguished, and the Federal Government will find itself in possession of a surplus revenue of 12,000,000 of dollars, chiefly the produce of the Tariff duties. The question will then arise, how is this revenue to be appropriated ? If divided among the different states, the tranquillity of the I'nion will be disturbed by a thousand jealousies, Avhich very probably would terminate in its dissolution. Besides, such an appropriation is confessedly unconstitutional, and must arm the Government with a power never contemplated at its formation. To apply the surjjlus in projects of general improvement, under direction of Congress, would increase many of the difficulties, while it obviated none. In short, there is no escaping from the dilemma ; NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. 119 10 0- 1- liis and, singular as it may seem to an Englishman, the Tariff will probably be Gxtinguished by a sheer plethora of money. The- most cnlightepod statesmen unite in the conviction, that there is but one course to be pur- sued, and that is, to reduce the duties to a fair system of revenue ; to extract from the pockets of the people what is sufficient for the necessary expenses of the government, and no more. It is singular, that the wealth of a nation, Avhich in other countries is found to generate corruption, should, in the United States, be the means of forcing the Government to return to the principles of sound and constitutional legislation. I am aware that there is nothing new in all this, nor is it possible, perhaps, to be very original on a subject which has been so often and so thoroughly discussed. It ought, perhaps, in justice to be stated, that the majo- rity of the gentlemen among whom I moved in Boston were opposed to the Tariff, and that I derived much instruction both from their conversation and writings. The great majority of the mer<'antile population, how- cer, are in favour of the })rohibitory system, though I could not discover much cogency in the arguments by which they support it. To these, however, I shall not advert, and gladly turn from a subject, which I fear can possess little interest for an English reader. A ti iveller has no sooner time to look about him in Boston, than he receives the conviction that he is thrown among a population of a character differing in much from that of the other cities of the Union. If a toler- able observer, he will immediately remark that the lines of the fdrehead are more deeply indented ; that there is more hardness of feature ; a more cold and lustreless expression of the eye ; a more rigid compression of the lips ; and that the countenance altogether is of a graver and more meditative cast. Something of all this is apparent even in childhood ; as the young idea shoots, the peculiarities become more strongly marked ; they III 'M I, i Tf '^ 120 NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. grow with his growth and strengthen with his strength, and it is only when the New Englander is restored to his kindred dust that they are finally obliterated. Ob- servo him in every difi'erent situation ; at the funeral and the marriage-feast, at the theatre and the conven- ticle, in the ball-room and on the exchange, and you will set him down as of God's creatures the least liable to be influenced by circumstanc(;s appealing to the heart or imagination. The whole city seems to partake of this peculiar cha- racter, and a traveller coming from Ne>v York is espe- cially struck with it. It is not that the streets of Boston are less crowded, the ])ublic places less frecjucnted, or that the business of life is less energetically pursued. In all these matters, to the eye of a stranger, there is little perceptible ditlerence. But the population is evi- dently more orderly ; the conventional restrictions of society are more strictly drawn ; and even the lower orders are distinguished by a solemnity of demeanour, not observable in their more southern neighbours. A shopkeeper weighs coffee or measures tape with the air of a philosopher ; makes observations on the price or quality in a tone of sententious sagacity ; subjects your coin to a yo sptical scrutiny ; and as you walk off, with your parcel in your pocket, examines you from top to toe, in order to gain some probable conclusion as to your habits or profession. Boston is quiet, but there is none of the torpor of still life about it. Nowhere are the arts of money-getting more deeply studied or better understood. There is here less attempt than elsewhere to combine pleasure and business, simply because to a New Englander busi- ness is pleasure — indeed, the only pleasure he cares much about. An English shopkeeper is a tradesman all the morning, but a gentleman in the evening. He casts his slough like a snake, and steps into it again only when he crosses the counter. Tallow, dry goods, and tobacco, NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. 121 eha- espo- are topics specially eschewed in the drawing-rooms of Camberwell and Hackney ; and all talk about sales and bankruptcies is considered a violation of the bienseances at Broadstairs and Margate. In short, an English trades- man is always solicitous to cut the shop whenever he can do so with impunity ; and it often happens that an acute observer of manners can detect a man's business rather by the toi)ics he betrays anxiety to avoid, than those on whidi he delivers his opinion. There is some folly in all this, but there is likewise some happiness. Enough, and too much, of man's life is devoted to business and its cares, and it is well that at least a portion of it should be given to enjoyment, and the cultivation of those charities which constitute the redeeming part of our nature. The follies of mankind have at least the advantage of being generally social, and connected with the happiness of others as well as >i\ith our own. But the pursuits of avarice and ambiti(^ri are selfish ; their object is the attainment of solitary dictinc- tion, and the depression of competitors is no less neces- sary to success, than the j)ositive elevation of the candi- date. The natural sympathies of humanity are apt to wither in the hearts of men engrossed by such interests. Even the vanities and follies of life have their use, in softening the asperities of contest, and uniting men in their weakness who would willingly stand apart in their strength. It is good, tlierefore, that the lawyer should sometimes forget his briefs, and the merchant his " ar- gosies " and his money-bags ; that the poor man should cast ofifthe memory of his sweat and his sufFer'ngs, and find, even in frivolous amusements, a Sabbath of the sterner passions. But such Sabbath the New Englander rarely knows. Wherever he goes, the coils of business are around him. He is a sort of moral Laocoon, difl'ering only in this, that he makes no struggle to be free. Mammon has no more zealous worshipper than your true Yankee. His « I (■:i iriir' s: n 1 122 NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. C( homage is not merely that of the lip, or of the knee ; it is an entire prostration of the heart— the devotion of all powers, bodily and mental, to the service of the idol. He views the world but as one vast exchange, on which he is impelled, both by principle and interest, to over- reach his neighbours if he can. The thought of busi- ness is never al)sent from his mind. To him there is no enjoyment without traffic. He travels snail-like, with liis shop or his counting-house on his back, and, like other hawkers, is always ready to open his budget of little private interests for discussion or amusement. The only respite he enjoys from the consideration of his own affairs, is the time he is pleased to bestow on prying into yours. In regard to the latter, he evidently considers that he has a right to unlimited scrutiny. There is no baffling him. His curiosity seems to rise in proportion to the difficulty of its gratification : he will track you through every evasion — detect all your doublings — or, if thrown out, will hark back so skilfully on the scent, that you are at length fairly hedged in a corner, and are tempted to exclaim, in the words of the most gifted of female poets — " The devil damn thy quest ion asking spirit ; For wlien tliou takest a notion by tlie skirt, Tliou, like an English bull-dog, keepest thy hold, And wilt not let it go." Their puritan descent has stamped a character on the New Englanders which nearly two centuries have done little to effiice. Among their own countrymen they are distinguished for their enterprise, prudence, frugality, order, and intelligence. Like tiio Jews, they are a marked people, and stand out in strong relief from the population which surrounds them. I imagine attach- ment to republicanism to be less fervent in this quarter of the Union than in any other. The understanding of a Yankee is not likely to be run awoy with by any political plausibilities, and concerns itself very little about evil when he about the ary fury of the phi indepc nd( almost ur of Wash regarded of the CO) from incr This most oft to a degi the gove: all elecie is only oi nor and < Island, s and the; i comiurt i ever, to chosen : six mont lative be hold the Maine J bodies f nent. I few rest In c( glance ; of Wasl has alv for the republi< until 1^ CONSTITUTION OF NEW ENGL.VND STATES. 123 about evils wliicli are merely speculative. He is content, when he feels a grievance, to apply a remedy, and sets about the work of reform with none of that ro- ' ■ 'on- ary fury which has so often marred the fairest j/ro. fBcts of the philanthropist. Since the establishmenl of caeir indepc tidence, the representatives of those States have almost uniformly advocated in Congress the principles of Washington, Hamilton, and Adams, ai.-l rather regarded with apprehension the democratic tendencies of the constitution, than the dangers which might result from increase of power on the part of the executive. This is the more remarkable, as the constitutions of most of the New England States are in truth republican to a degree verging on democracy. In New Hampshire, the governor, coui'icil, senators, and representatives, are all elected annually by the people. In \^ermont, there is only one legislati\'e body, Avhich, along with the gover- nor and council, and judges, is chosen annually. Rhode Island, strange to say, has no written constitution at all, and the inhabitants find it very possible to live in perfect comiort and security without one. The custom is, how- ever, to have judges, go\ernor, and senate, who are chosen annually. The representatives serve only for six months ! In Massachusetts, the governor and legis- lative bodies are annually chosen ; the judges, however, hold thuir offices advitammit cuJpam. In the states of Maine and Connecticut, the executive and legislative bodies are appointed annually ; the judiciary is perma- nent. In all these States, the right of suflrage, with some few restrictions in regard to pau])ors, &c., is universal. In contrast with this, it may be curious to tal.'3 a glance at the constitution of Virginia, the native state of Washington, Jefl'ei-son, Madison, and Munroe, which has always been remarkable in the Federal Congress for the assertion of the highest and purest principles of republicanism. It must be observed, however, tliat, until 1820, the right of sufirage depended on a much 1:1 1/ !l ,.ll u III 124 CONSTITUTION OP NEW ENGLAND STATES. higher territorial qualification than at present. In that year, the constitution was remodelled and liberalized by a convention of the inhabitants. There are in Virginia two legislative bodies. The members of the lower house are chosen annually, the sen.itors every four years. These houses, by a joint vote, elect the governor, who remains in office three years; the judges are during good behaviour, or until removed by a concurrent vote of both houses, two-thirds being required to constitute the necessary majority. The right of sullrage is vested in every citizen possessed of afree- Jiold of the annual value of twentt/-fve dollars, or wlio has a life interest in land of the annual value of fifty dollars, or who shall own or occupy a leasehold estate of the annual value of two hundred dollars, &c. There is thus presented the anomaly of the most democratic State of the Union adheriuG: to a constitution comparatively aristocratic, and appending to the right of suftrage a high territorial qualification ; while the New England States, with institutions more democratic than have ever yet been realized in any other civih/ed com- munity, are distinguished as the ad\ocates of a strong federal legislature, a productive system oi" finance, the establisltment of a powerful navy, and such liberal expenditure at home and abroad, as might ten to insure respect juid influence to the government. The truth seems to be, that the original polit\ )f these States partook of the patriarchal character, and has not yet entirely lost its hold on the feelings of the people. It was easy to maintain order in a country where there was little temptation to crime ; where, by a day's labour, a man could earn the price of an acre of tolerable land, and, becoming a territorial pro])rietor, of course imme- diately partook of the conmion impulse to maintain the security of property, ^dd to this the character of the people ; their apathetic temperament, their luibits of parshnony, tlic rehgious impressions communicated by their anc territory, daring ai shall ha\ England of politic world. Butth sion of g tory, th wisdom therefore to comm Union. rated Sts possessin they felt tl^em, an the guar have be given to so const: of the ra there wj Nvealthy province the fede security that thi; interest rather \ constitu the ign< The: to a re mont, I' each to ^: THEIR POLITICAL PRINCIPLES. 125 S:il V their ancestors ; and, above all, the vast extent of fertile territory, which acted as an escape-valve for the more daring and unprincipled part of the population ; and we shall have reasons enough, I imagine, why the New Englanders could bear, without injury, a greater degree of political liberty than perhaps any other people in the world. But though the Now Englanders had little apprehen- sion of glaring violations of law within their own terri- tory, they had evidently no great confidence in the wisdom or morality of their neighbours. They wore, therefore, in favour of a federal legislature, strong enough to command respect, and maintain order throughout the Union. Constituting a small minority of the confede- rated States, yet, for long subsequent to the Revolution, possessing by far tiie greater share of the national capital, they felt that they had more to lose than those around them, and were consequently more solicitous to strengthen the guarantees of public order. They would, therefore, have been bettor satisfied had greater influence been given to property, and would gladly have seen the senate so constituted as to act as a check on the hasty impulses of the more popular chamber. Within their own limits there was no risk of domestic disturbance. The most \vealthy capitalist felt, that from the citi;:ens of his own province he had nothing to apjirehend. But it was to the federal legislature alone, that they could look for security from without ; and they Avere naturally anxious that this body should be composed of men with a deep interest in the stability of the Union, and representing rather the deliberate opinions of their more intelligent constituents, than the hasty and variable impressions of the ignorant and vulgar. The New England States have something approaching to a religious establishment. In Massachusetts, Ver- mont, New Hampshire, and Connecticut, the law requires each town to provide, by taxation, for the support of the P f II' vi 126 EDUCATION". Protestant religion, leaving, however, to every individual the choice of the particular sect to which he will contri- bute. In the other States of the Union, every person is at liberty to act as he pleases in regard to religion, which is regarded solely as a relation between man and his Maker, and any compulsory contribution would be con- sidered a direct encroachment on personal liberty. But if Christianity be a public benefit ; if it tend to diminish crime, and encourage the virtues essential to the prospe- rity of a community, it is difficult to see on what grounds its support and diftusion should not form part of the duties of a legislature. In these States the education of the people is likewise the subject of legislative enactment. In Massachusetts public schools are established in every district, and sup- ported by a tax levied on the public. In Connecticut they are maintained in another manner. By the charter of Charles the Second, this colony extended across the continent to the Pacific, within the same parallels of latitude which bound it on the east. It therefore inclu- ded a large portion of the present States of Pennsyl- vania and Ohio, which, being sold, produced a sum amounting to L. 270,000 sterling, the interest of which is exclusively devoted to the purposes of education throughout the State. This fund is now largely increased, and its annual produce, I believe, is greater than the whole income of the State arising from taxation. In these public schools every citizen has not only a right to have his children educated, but, as in some parts of Germany, he is compelled by law to exercise it. It is here considered essential to tlie public interest that every man should receive so much instruction as shall qualify him for a useful member of the State. No member of society can be considered as an isolated and abstract being, living for his own pleasure, and labouring for his own advantage. In free States especially, every man has important political functions, which aflfect materially, not only his o and it is least poss for him t( communil by the di political property the imprc prison, \>\ keener so Speaki Englandc and writi sally diffi among tl lating pe in these 1 but still he has d( as himse expect r that the enlarged schoolnu best ter " that o] a due se that the than ar( lander p and ent( mastere( valuabk to him conclusi or relig ■^^ AMOUNT OF ACQUIREMENT. 127 only his own wellbeing, but that of his fellow-citizens ; and it is surely reasonable to demand that he shall at least i^ossess such knowledge as shall render it possible for him to discharge his duties with advantage to the community. The policy which attempts to check crime by the diffusion of knowledge, is the offspring of true political wisdom. It gives a security to person and property beyond that afforded by the law, and looks for the improvement of the people, not to the gibbet and the prison, but to increased intelligence, and a consequently keener sense of moral responsibility. Speaking generally, it may be said that every New Englander receives the elements of education. Reading and writing, even among the poorest class, are univer- sally diffused ; arithmetic, I presume, comes by instinct among this guessing, reckoning, expecting, and calcu- lating people. The schoolmaster has long been abroad in these States, deprived, it is true, of his rod and ferule, but still most usefully employed. Up to a certain point he has done wonders ; he has made his scholars as wise as himself, and it would be somewhat unreasonable to expect more. If it be considered desirable, however, that the present range of popular knowledge should be enlarged, the question then arises, who shall teach the schoolmaster ? Who shall impress a pedagogue (on the best terms with himself, and whose only wonder is, " that one small head should carry all he knows") with a due sense of his deficiencies, and lead him to aendenee about them, ineonipa- tiblo with ooutenipt. Abuse them as we may, it must still be achnitted they are a singuhir aud original people Nature, in framing a Yankee, seems to have given him double brains and half heart. Wealth is moie eijually distributed in the New Eug- land States, than ])erhaps in any other eountry of tlie worhl. Tlu're an> here no overgrown fortunes. Abjoot poverty is rarely seen, but moderate opulenee every where. This is as it shouUl ho. Who would wish for the ujtroduetion of the palaee, if it must bo aeeompaniod by the l\)or's-house ? * There are few beggars to bo found in tho streets of Bostxm, but souie there ar»>. both there and at New York. These, however, I am assured, are all foreign- ers, or peo])le of eolour, and my own observations tend to eontirm the assertion. Nine-tenths of those by whom I have been inij)ortuned for eharity, were evidently Irish. The number of negroes in Boston is comjtara- tively small. The servants, in the better houses at least, are generally whites, but I have not been able to dis- eover that the prejudiees whieh, in the other States, con- demn the poor African to degradation, have been at all modilied or diminished bv the boasted iutellis];ence of the New Englanders. Though the schoolmaster has long exercised his voca- tion in these States, the fruit of his labours is but little apparent in the language of his pupils. The amount of • The observations on the New England cliaracter in the present chapter, would iiorhaps have been moM" appropriately (!> forred till a later period of the work. Having written t' (Mn, however, they must now stand where chance has placed them. I have only to beg they may be taken, not as the hasty impressions received during a few days' or weeks' residence in Boston, but as the final result of my observa- tions on this interesting people, both in their own States, and in other portions of the Union. This observation is equally applicable to the opinions expressed in diflferent parts nf these volumes, and I must request the reader to be good enough to bear it in mind. m BARBARISMS IN LANGUAGE. 133 bad pfi'aminar in ciiculjitlou is very groat ; that of barha- risnis oiionnous. Of course, I do not now .s|)eak of the operative ehiss, wliose niassaere of their mother-tongue, however inhuman, eould ixeite no astonisinnent ; but I alhide to the great body of hiwyers and traders ; the men who erowil the exeliange and the hotels ; who are to be heard speaking in the <'<>urts, and are selected by tlieir fellow-citizens to till high and responsible otfiees. Even by this educatetl and respectable class, the com- luonest words are often so transmogrified as to be placed beyontl the reci)gnition of an Englishman. The word does is split into two syllables, and pronounced do-es. Where, for some inc(mij)rehensible reason, is converted into whare, there into thare; and I remember, on men- tioning to an accjuaintance that Thad called on a gentle- man of taste in the arts, he asked, " Wiiether he shew (showed) me his pictures?'' Such words as oratory, and dilatory, are prt)nounced with the penult syllable long and accented ; missionary becomes missionairy, angel angel, danger, danger, &c. But this is not all. The Aniericans have chosen arbi- trarily to change the meaning of certain old and esta^- blishcd English words, for reasons which they cannot explain, and which I doubt much whether any European philologist could understand. The word clever affords a case in j)oint. It has here no connexion with talent, and simply meiins i)leasant or amiable. Thus a good-na- tured blockhead in the American vernacular, is a clever man, and ha\ing had this drilled into me, I foolishly imagined that all trouble with regartl to this word at least, was at an end. It was not long, however, before I heard of a gentleman having moved into a clever house — of another succeeding to a clever sum of money — of a thu'd embarking in a clever ship, and making a clever voyage, with a clever cargo ; and of the sense attached to the word in these various combinations, I could gain nothing like satisfactory explanation. ii i 134 BARBARISMS IN LANGUAGE. With regard to the meaning intondct I to bo convoyed by an American in conversation, one is sonietinies loft utterly at large. I reinond^er, after conversing witli ;i voiy plain, but very agreeable lady, being asked wliotlier Mrs was not a ver^ fine woman. I believe I havo not more conscience than my neighbours in ret;ard to a compliment, but in the present case there seemed some- thing so ludicrous in the application of the term, tliat I found it really impossible to answer in the attirmativo, I therefore ventured to hint, that the ])ersonal charms of Mrs were certainly not her principal attraction, but that I had rarely enjoyed the good fortune of moot- ing a lady more pleasing and intelligent. This led to an explanation ; and I learned that, in the dialect of this country, the term Jine ivoman refers exclusively to the intellect. The privilege of barbarizing the King's English is assumed by all ranks and conditions of men. Such words as slick, kedge, and boss, it is true, are rarely used by the better orders ; but they assume unlimited liberty in the use of " expect," " reckon," " guess," " calculate," and perpetrate conversational anomalies with the most remorseless impunity. It were easy to accumulate in- stances, but I will not go on with this unpleasant subject ; nor should I have alluded to it, but that I deem it some- thing of a duty to express the natural feeling of an Englishman at finding the language of Shakspeare and Milton thus gratuitously degraded. Unless the present progress of change be arrested by an increase of taste and judgment in the more educated classes, there can be no doubt that, in another century, the dialect of the Americans will become utterly unintelligible to an Eng- lishnian, and that the nation will be cut oft' from the advantages arising from their participation in British literature. If they contemplate such an event with com- placency, let them go on and prosper ; they have only to ^^ progress'* in their present course, and their grand- BOSTON SOCIETY. 135 children bid fair to speak a jargon as novel and peculiar as the most patriotic American linguist can desire. ; J ! 'I CHAPTER VIII. NEW ENGLAND, Having directed the attention of +ho reader to some of the more prominent defects of tlio New England character, it is only justice to add that, in Boston at least, there exists a circle almost entirely exempt from them. This is composed of the lirst-rate merchants and lawyers, leavened by a small sprinkling of the clergy ; and, judging of the quality of the ingredients from the agreeable eftect of the mixture, I should pronounce them excellent. There is much taste for literature in this circle ; much liberality of sentiment, a good deal of accomplishment, and a greater amount, perhaps, both of practical and speculative knowledge, than the population of any other mercantile city could supply. In such society it is possible for an Englishman to express his opinions without danger of being misunderstood, and he enjoys the advantage of free interchange of thought, and cor- recting his own hasty impressions by comparison Avith the results of more mature experience and sounder judg- ment. It certainly struck me as singular, that Avhile the great body of the New Englanders are distinguished above every other people I have ever known by bigotry and narrowness of mind, and an utter disregard of those delicacies of deportment which indicate benevolence of feeling, the higher and more enlightened portion of the community shovdd be peculiai'ly remarkable for the dis- play of qualities precisely the reverse. Nowhere in the United States will the feelings, and even prejudices of a "% 111 t 1- ! lit r ,i II 136 BOSTON SOCIETY. stranger meet "with such forLoaranc o as in the circle to ■which I alhule. Nowhere are the true delicacies of social intercourse more scrupuk)usly obserxed, and no- where will a traveller mingle in society where his errors of opinion will he more rigidly detected or move chari- tably excused. I look back on the jieriod of my resi- dence in Boston with peculiar pleasure. I trust there are individuals there who regard me as a friend ; and I know of nothing in the more remote contingeucies of life which I conteui[)late with greater satisfaction, than the possibility of renewing in this country, with at least some of the number, an intercourse which I found so gratify iug in their own. In externals, the society of Boston ditlers little from that of New York. There is the sauie routine of diuuers and particj ; and in both the scale of expensive luxury seems nearly equal. In Boston, however, there is uioro literature ; and this circumstance has ])roi)ortionally enlarged the range of conversat* on. An Englishman is a good deal struck in America with the entire absence of books as articles of furniture. The remark, however, is noc applicable to Boston, There, works of Euro[>ean literatiu'C, evidently not introducetl ftir the mere pur- pose of display, are generally to be found, and even the drawing-room sometiuies assumes the appearance of a library. Tlie higher order of the New Englanders ofl'ers no exception to that grave solenniity of aspect which is the badge of all their tribe. The gentlemen are more given than is ijlsewhere usual to the discussion of abstract polemics, both in literature and religion. There is a moral ])ugnacity about them, which is not otfensive, because it is never productive of any thing like wrang- ling, and is (pialified by a very large measure of |)hilo- sophical tolerance. The well-informed Bostonian is a calm and deliberative being. Ilis decision on any i)oint may be influenced by interest, bul not by passion. He ?f LADIES OF BOSTON. 137 to of no- ors U'i- 'nI- 'I'O ir of an I so is rarely contented, like the inhabitants of (*thcr states, with taking the plain and broad featnres of a e:irry fiU'otn'able. These fair New Englanders ])artake of the endemic gravity of expression, which sits well o\\ them because it is natural. In amount of acquirement, I belie\e they arc very supei'ior to any other ladies of the I'nion. Tlu'v talk well and gracefully of novels and l>oetry, arc accomiilished in nuisie and tlio living lan- guages ; and though the New York ladies charge them with being dowdi/ish in dres;j, I am not sure that their taste in this respect is not purer, as it certainly is more sim|)le, than that of their fair accusers. The habits of the Bostonians are, I believe, more d(nnesti(^ than is connnon in the other cities of the Union, The taste for reading contributes to this by rendering both families and individuals less dependent on society. A strong aristocratic feeling is apparent in the families of older standing. The walls of the apartments are often V 6.J I' if it iiiiiryrinin 138 FONDNESS FOR TITLU. ' ; if li covcr<^.i >vltli tho ]i(n'trait'* of tlioir aneostovs : aviuovial boariu;;-; are in uvnoral iiso : and autiquitv of blotxl is liolos^ aliu>(l luM' • tb.aii in Knijland. The pi^opU^, tot), displax a t'ondnoss lor title si>inoAvhat at variaiu'o with thoiv rood son>o in other matters. The (u>\t'vnor of IMassai iiu.sett.s reeeives the title of l"Aeelleni'\ . Tho i*resid«nt o\' the I'nited States I'huuis no sueh honmu". Tht^ nu'Uibers of tiie i'Vderal Senate are athli'essed jronerally, in tlie northerii States, with the pretixture of Honourable: but tlu^ New I'nulanders u'o further, and oxtond the same distinetiiMi to the whole body o\' rejtre- si^entatives, a praetiie followed in no other part o[' the I'nion. Sueh tritle>< often atlord et>nsiderable insiuht to the real feelinnels or ucMierals on the beneh, is not uneoni- luon ; and as the privates o\' militia enjoy the privilege of oleetiiitf their ollieers, of einu'se the prinei|)le o\' ehoieo is by no means ilu' possession o\' military knowledue. In a thinly-peoitled I'ountry, where eanilidates i>f a better olass are not to be had, it nnist (»ften happt'n that the hisjhest nnlitarv rank is bestowed on men ot' the \ tM-y lowest station in soi'iety. This eireumstanee, it miiiht bo oxpoeted, wouhl brinu' this elass of honours into disrepute, and that, like the title of kniuht-baehelor in Enghuul, they woidd be avoided by the better order of citizens. This, however, is by no means the ease. (.lene- rals, eolonels, and majors, swarm all over tho Union ; and the titular distinetion is oijually eovoted by tho Presi- dent and the senattn", the iuds::e on tho beneh and the innkeeper at the bar. There is far n\ore English foolino: in Boston than I >vas }u'oparod to oxpoot. Tho people yet fool pride in I POLITICAL SENTIMENTS. 139 iai is 00. irh of lu' ur. ■vd of ml tlk' the country of tlioir fort tiitliors, aiul oxen retain some- what of reviMviu'c for lier aneient institutions. At the priod of my \ isit, the topic of Parliamentary lleform was naturally one of ])eeuliar interest. Tiie revolndon in Franee had eonnnunieated a strong imj)ulse to opinion in Enti'land, and the policy to be adopted l)v the minis- try in reii'ard to this i;reat (piestion, was yet unknown. The suhjeet, theret"ore, in all its bearings, was very fre- quently diseussi>d in the society of lioston. It was one on which I had antici[)ated little dill'erence of opinion ainonu: the citizens of a re|>nblic. Admittini>' that their hest wishes were in favour of the prospority of liritain, aid the stability of i\er co..stitution, I exju'cted that their juduinent would necessarily point to yivat and inuuediate chanues in a monarchy confessedly not free from abuse. For myself, thouuh considered. 1 believe, as somethini:: of a Jvadical at home, I had conu' to the United States prepared to bear the imputation of Tory- ism amono' a peopU> wlutse ideas of liberty were carried so nuu'h further than my own. In all thes(> aiuii'ipations I was uiistaken, Stranij;© to say, I lonnd niysolf (|uite as nuu-h .; Radical in Bos- ton, and \ov\ nearly as uuu'h so in New York, as I had been consitlered in Enulaiul. It was socm a])parent that the yreat maj(»rity of the more eidiuhtened class in both cities, reoariU'd any i>reat and sudden chanu'e in the British institutions as preynant w iih the uu)st inuninent danuer. In their eyes the chance of ultimate advantaii^o "was utterly insioniticant, when weiuhed against the cer- tainty of inuuediate peril. " Yon at prest'nt," they said, *' enjoy more prai'tical freedom than has ever in the whole experience of mankind been permanently secured to a nation by any institutions. Y'^our govc>rnment, "whatever may be its defects, enjoys at least this ines- timable advantage, that the habits of the jicople arc adai)ted to it. This cannot be the ease in ri'gard to any change, however calculated to bo ultimately bene- r' i i i ■ < P ii St n \ w ' 1 1 n I 1 m 140 POLITICAL SKNTIMENTS. r^ f! IS lu'ial. Tho proooss ot" nuu'al ad;»i>t;uioii is ovor slow aiul j^rivarious, and tho ox[>»'rioiu'o ot" ;ho worUl domonstratos thar it is tar botttM- tliat tho iiitolli<:ouoo ot" a }HH>plo jihiHiUl bo in aihaiuv ot" rhoir institutions, than tliat tho institutions shonUl jmooovIo tho aJ\anooniont ot' tlio }H\>pU\ In tho t"ornior oaso. howovor tht\»rotioally bad, thoir laws will bo praotioally moditiod by tho ii\tiuonoo of jniblio i)}>inii>r\ ; in tho lattor, howoNor uovkI in thom- solvos, thoy oannot bo st>oui"o or bonotioial in t'uMr ojvraiion. Wo spoak as \uon whoso opinions ir.i\o boon for\iioil t'ri>ui oxporionoo, \uuh>r a i:o\orn\non(. popular a tho widost sonso ct' tho torni. As tVionJs. wo oaution you to bowaro. Wo protond not to judiio whothor ohauiio bo uooo>sars. It" it bo. wo tru>t it will at loast be irradnal; that y^ ur statosiuon will approaoh tho work ot" rot"orni. with tho t"ull knowlodiio that ovory siuulo innovatii>n will oooasion tho nooossity ot" many. Th.o appofito for oliango in a poopio uvows w itli what it tVods on. It is insatiablo. lio as t";ir as yovi will, at ^omo juMut you unist stop, and that point will bo slun't ot'tho wish ot' a lariTo portion — probably i>t" a ninuorioal uiajo- ritr — Ot" Your I'oindatiou. l>v no oonoossion dors it appoar to us that you oan avo't tho battlo that awaits \ oil. You havo but tho i-hvMoo w hothor tho vrtvai strusiirlo :>hall bo for reform or pro{>orty.'* I own I was a trood deal >!rprisovhoso judiiinont, as to mattoi*?* of liovoruujont, oould bo suj>{Hisod o\' nuioh \ aluo. As it was my objoot to ao-,piiro as muoh knowlodiio as possible with regard to tho real worknig o\' the Ameriean oonstitutiou on the habits and foolini:^ of tho jHv^ple, I wu:s always jrlad to listen t<^ polirie; I vl-ii .1. n betwiHMi onlightenod disputant*. TdIs ri!{»"\d vi'U ii at leai't the a-lvantajxo of atVordins: an ind.v-, t u)\< ri' :!ii provailiuir tone of thouirht and .>pinior ; ;> •:■■ uiuion ot' soeiety altouother eau exj»erieueo. At mMmm^mm^mim^mmmmmm^' m. 11» TASTE FOR THE ARTS — ARTISTS. Ul pivsiMit T havo only alliulod to the sulijoct of politics at all. as illustrativo of a poi'uliar foaturt' in tlio Now F.ng- laml I'haraotor. At a futuro poriod, I shall have ocoii- sion to viow tln» subjoct uiulov a ditforont aspoot. Tho i'onii>arati\»> (litl'iislon of litt>ratinv in Ht)stoii. has brouirlit >vith ir a tasto for tlu> Wno arts, Tho better houses are atlonied with pietures; and in tlie Athenanim — !» jtublie library and readinij-rooni — is a eollei'tion of casts frt>in t!ie antit[ue. l^^tablisinmM\ts for (he instruc- tion of the peopU> in tlu» hiuher branches of knowlediro, are yet almost unknown in the United States, but some- thinu' liki' a Meehanie's Institute has ai lenuth boon «rot up in HostiMu and I went to hear the introductory lecture. The apartment was larue, and I'rowded by an autlieiu'o whost^ appt>arancc> atul deportment were in tho hiirhest deirree orderly and resj^et'tablo. The lecture was on the steam-enuine, the history, ]irineiple, and oonstrui'tion of which were t>xplained most lucidlv bv a lectinvr, who bi'h>nged, 1 was assureil, to the class of operati\ e n\echanics. lioston can boast ha\in!Lr ]n"oduced some eminent artists, at tlu^ head oi' whom is Mr Al>ton. a painter, confessetUy of line taste, if not (»f high giMiius. Mis t^iste. however, untortunately remlers him too tastidious a critic on his t>wn pei'formani'cs. and he has now been upwards o{' ten years at work on an hi>torical sid>jeet, which is y»^t initinishod. This surely is mere waste of life anil labour. Where a }>oet tn' [fainter has a strong grasp of his subject, he tinds no ditliodying Ins eonce]»tions. The idea which rcipiires yt\irs of fos- tering, and nnist be I'lu'rished ami cockered into life, is seUlom worth the cost of its mu'ture. Mr Alstt)n should renuMuber. that a tree is judged by the quantify as well avS by the tpiality of its t'ruit. Had Kaphael, Kubens, or Titian, adopdnl such a process of elaboi-ation. how many of the noblost speeiniens of art would have been lost to the worlil I I' L Id i j I: IS '■I ; hi 142 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. »' fi I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with Mr Hardin"', a painter of much talent, and very consider- able genius. Ilis history is a singular one. Durinj;; the last war with Great Britain, he was a ])rivate sol- dier, and fought in many of the battles on the frontier. At the return of peace, he exchanged the sword for the pallet, and without instruction of any kind, attained to such excellence, that his pictures attracted much notice, and some little encouritgement. But America atl'ords no field for the higher walks of art, and Harding, with powers of the first order, and an unbounded enthusiasm for his profession, is not likely, I fear, to be ap])reciat(Hl as he deserves. Some years ago he visited England, where his talents were fast rising into celebrity, but the strength of the amor patriti unfortunately determined him to return to his native land. I say inifortunateiy, because in England he could scarcely have failed of attaining both Avidcv fame, and more liberal renmnera- tion, than can well be expected in xVmerica. The modesty of this artist is no less remarkable than his genius. He uniformly judges his own performances by the highest standard of criticism, and is far i-ather dis- pose'ng ]iassed nearly three weeks in Boston, it be- came rteci^sary that I should direct my ste[)s southward. I determined to return to New York by land, being anxious to see something of the countrv, and more than I had yet done of its inhabitants. The festivities of Christmas, therefore, were no sooner over than I (piitted Boston, with sentiments of deep gratitude, for a khid- ness, which, from the hour of my arrival, to that of my departui'c, had continued uiibi'(»ken, I have already described an American stage-coach. The one in which I now travelled, though distinguished by the title (»f ''mail-stage," conld boast no peculiar attraction. It was old and rickety, and the stutting of the cushions had beeome so eonglomerate(l into lia)'d and irregular masses, as to impress the passengers with the conviction of being seated on a bag of pebbh.'s. Fortu- nately it was not ciowded, and the road, though rouj^h, was at least, better than that on which 1 had been jolted on my journey from Providence. It was one o clock before we got fairly underweigh, and it is scarcely possible, I inuigine, for a journey to commence under gloomier auguries. The weather was most dismal. Tlie wind roared loudly among the branches of the leatless trees, and beat occasionally against the carriage in gusts so violent, as to throatou its overthrow. At length the !i5 t. t ', i M 144 ARRIVAL AT WORCESTER. |s;i|i clouds opened, and down came a storm of snow, wliicli, in a few minutes, had covered the whole surface of the country as with a windinjj^-slieet. The first nisjlit we slept at Worcester, a town cnn- tainlnq: about 3000 inhabitants, whieli the guide-book declares to contain a bank, four printing-otfices, a court- house, and a jail, assertions wliieh I ean pretend neitlicr to corroborate nor (h'uy. Its ajjpearance, however, as I observed on the foUowing morning, was far from unpre- possessing ; the streets were elean, and round the town stood neat and pretty-looking villas, which might have been still prettier, had they displayed less gaudy and tast<'less deeorati(m. As the countycimrt — or some (>ther — was tlx'n sittinu, the inn was crowded with lawyers and their clients, at least fifty of whom already ()et*ii|ii(Ml (he piibljr HiiJuUt which Avas certainly not more than twciily feet Sipiarc. The passengers were left to si lambU' out of tlu^ eoacli ns they best could in the dnrk, and afterwanls to explore their way without th*' smallest notice, beyond thiit of a broad stare from the landlord. < )n entering the nioiii, I stood for some time, in the hope that a Jtarty who engrossed the whole Ihe, would eompassloniile onr linlf- frozen condition, and invite our a|)|troach. Nothing, hoAvevor, was further from their thoughts than such benevolence. " Friend, did you come by the stage ?" askeil a man immediately in my front. " I guess you found it tarnation cold,"' I assinvd him his conjecture was leasing. Having concludc the bar, and solicit the favour of behig supplied witli a candle, a rec^uest which is ultimately, though by no means immediately, complied with. You then explore the way to your appartment unassisted, and with about the same chance of success as the enterprizing Panv iu his hunt after the north-west passage. Your number is 63, but in what part of the mansion that number is to be found, you are of course without the means of i>robable conjecture. Let it be sup])()sed, however, tha you are more fortunate than Captain Parry, and at length discover the object of your search. If you are an Englishman, and too young to have roughed it undor "Wellington, you are probably what in this country is called "almighty particular;" and rejoice in a coupl(> of comfortable pillows, to say nothing of a lurking piejuclieo in favour of multiplicity of blankets, especially with the thermometer some fifty degrees below the freezing point. Such luxuries, however, it is ten to one yui Avill not tind in the uncurtained crib in which vou are destined to pass the night. Your first impulse, therefore, is to walk down-stairs and make known your wants to the landlord. This is a mistake. Have nothing to say to him. You may rely on it, he is nuich too busy to have any time to throw away in humouring the Avhimsies of a foreigner ; and should it hai)pen, as it iloes s^^, uetimes in the New England States, that the estal)lislniiont is com])osed of natives, your ehance of a c«nufortabh' sleep for the night is about as great as that of your gaming the Thirty Thousand ponnd prize in the lottery. But if there arc black, and, still 1)etter, if there are Irish servants, your prospect of comfort is wonderfully inn)roved. A dou- ceur, judiciously administered, generally does thebusiness, and when you at length recline after the fatigues of the day, you find your head has acquired at least six inches 11 JOURNEY TO SPRINGFIELD. 147 additional elevation, and the superincumbent weight of woollen Ikuj been lurgel augmented. It was at Worcester tuat 1 received this most useful information. Being in want «-!' the above-mentioned accommodations, I (^'jiutcd n y servant to make an huiuble repi'esentation of iii necessities to the landlord. The flinty heart of Boniface, however, was not to be moveox peculiarly interesting. She sat imme- diately opijosite to me, but nothing of her face or person was visible, except a forehead, a few dark ringlets, and a pair of the most beautiful eyes in the world, which, like the sun just peeping above the horizon, sent the brightest flashes imaginable, along the upper level of this Brobdignag of a band-box. The snow had continued to fall during the night, and the jolting of the "mail-stage" was certainly any thing but agreeable. When out of huiiujur, however, by the united influence of the weather and the road, I had only to direct a single glance towards the beautiful orbs scintillating in my front, to be restored to equanimity. When any thing at all jocular was said, one could read a radiant laughter in this expressive feature, though her lips gave utterance to no sound of merrunent. For about i i IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 1.25 1- illlii^ ,50 ™^ u 1^ IM 2.2 ^ 1^ li u^ ,1 WUt. 1^ 1 '-^ 1.4 1.6 V] f/2. >^ O-' A.*'-^* %»^ *^ ^^ Photographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.V. 1458U (716) 873-4S03 ^V^ ^f^,"^ #>5 iU 148 FAIR NEW ENGLANDER. 9 i five hours the fair oculist continued our fellow-travollor, and I had at length come to think of her as some fantastic and preternatural creation ; such a being as one some- times reads of in a German romance, half band-box and half eye. At length she left the coach. When her band-box was about to be removed from its position, I remember averting my face, lest a view of her countenance might destroy the fancifil interest she had excited. She departed, therefore, unseen ; but those eyes will live in my memory long after all record of her fello^v'-travello,' shall have faded from hers. After her departure^ Harding told me her story : she was a young lady of respectable connexions, and, Avith the consent of her family, had become engaged to a young man, who afterwards proved fiilse to his vows, and married a wealthier bride. She had suflercd severely under this disappointment, and was then going on a visit to her aunt at Northampton, in the ho[)e that change of scene might contribute to the restoration of her tranquillity. That this result would follow I have no doubt. Those eyes were too laughing and brilliant to belong permanently to a languishing and broken- hearted maiden. We dined at a tolerable inn, and proceeded on our journey. The snow had ceased ; there was a bright sun above, but I never remember to have felt cold so intense. It was late before wo reached Springfield, where I had determined on making a day's halt. The inn was comfortable, and I succeeded in procuring pri- vate apartments. On the following morning I took a ramble over the village, which is by far the gayest I had yet seen in the course of my tour. It abounds with white framework villas, with green Venotian blinds, and porticoes of Corinthian or Ionic columns sadly out of proportion. It appears to me, however, that massive .columns — and columns not apparently massive at least, must SPRINGFIELD— FEATURES OF THE COUNTRY. 149 our must be absurd— are sadly out of place when attached to a wooden building. When s\ieh fragile materials are employed, lightness shoidd be the chief object of the architect, but these Transatlantic Palladios seem to despise the antiquated notions of fitness and proportion v^hich prevail in other parts of the world. They heap tav'diy ornament upon their gingerbread creations, and you enter a paltry clapboavd cottage, through — what is at least meant for — a splendid colonnade. In the country through which I ])assed, the houses are nearly all of the class which may be called comforts- able. The general scenery at a more favourable season I can easily conceive to be pretty. The chief defect is the utter ttimsiness of the houses, and the glaring effect arising from the too profuse application of the paint- brush. They are evidently not calculated to last above fifteen or twenty years, and this extreme fragility renders more glaring the absurdity of that profusion of gewgaw decoration in which the richer inhabitants delight to indulge. The country is too new for a landscape-painter. With variety of surface, and abundance of wood and water, an artist will f^ertainly find many scenes worthy of his pencil, but the worm fences, and the freshness and regularity of the houses, are sadly destructive, of the picturesque. Hod the buildmgs been of more en- during materials, time, the beautifier, would have gra- dually mellowed down their hardness of outline, and diminished the unpleasant contrast which is here so obtrusively appare'it between iha works of man and those of nature. But at present there is no chance of this. Each generation builds for itself, and even the human frame is less perishable than the rickety and flimsy structures erected for its comfort. Tlie advantages of a country, however, are not to be measured by the degree of gratification it may administer to the taste or imagination of a traveller. Whore plenty 150 DIFFUSION OF COMFORT. is in the cottage, it matters but little what figure it may make on the canvass of the painter. I have travelled in many countries, but assuredly never in any where the materials of happiness were so widely and plenti- fully diifused as in these Isew England States. And yet the people are not happy, or if they be, there is no faith in Lavater. Never have I seen countenances so fiuTowed by care as those of this favoured people. Both soul and body appear to have been Avithered up by the anxieties of life ; and with all appliances of enjoyment within their reach, it seems as if some strange curse had gone forth against them, which said, " Ye shall not enjoy." One looks in vain here for the ruddy and jovial faces which in En2:land meet us on everv hand. The full, broad, and muscular frame ; the bold serenity of aspect ; the smile, the laugh, the song, the dance — let not a traveller seek these, or any indications of a light heart and a contented spirit, in the New England States. Let mo not, however, be misunderstood. The dis- tinction I would draw is shnj>ly this. The Englishman has the inclination to be happy, though not always the means of happiness at command. The Now Englander, with a thousand blessings, is deficient in what outvalues them all, the disposition to enjoyment. He is inter opes inops. Something of this misfortune, I have no doubt, is attributable to climate, but I cannot help believing it in a great degree hereditary. The pilgrim fathers were certainly not men of a very enviable temperament. Full of spiritual pride, needy, bigoted, superstitious, ignorant and despising knowledge, intolerant, fleeing from per- secution in the Old World, and yet brhiging it to the New ; such were the men to whom this people may trace many of their peculiarities. That they were dis- tinguished by some of these qualities, was their misfor- tune; that they were marked by others, was their crime. They and their descendants spread through the wilder- ness, PILGRIM FATHERS — SPRINGFIELD. 15i niav lied lore nti- And s no so oth the lont had not )vial The V of Met ness, and solitude liad not the effect of softening the tosperities of faith or feeling. The spirit of social depen- dence was broken ; and as ages passed on, and increase of population, and the pursuits of gain, induced them to collect in masses, the towny and villages became peopled with men of solitary habits, reiving on their own re- sources, and associating only for purposes of gain. Such, doubtless, the New Englanders were ; and such they are now, to the observation of a stranger, who is conscious of no tiMuptation to misrepresent them. I own the character of the New Ensilandors is a sub- ject on which I feel tempted to be prolix. In truth, it strikes mo as so singular and anomalous — so compounded of what is valuable and what is vile — that I never feel certain of having succeeded in expressing the precise condtination of feeling which it inspires. As a philan- throjast, I should wish them to be less grasping and more contented with the blessings they enjoy, and would willingly barter a good deal of vanity, and a little sub- stantial knavery, for an ay the announcement of breakfast, and the chitter of knives and plates wliich immediately succeeded it. Under such cir- cumstances, I had experience enough to know that no time was to be lost. There is a tide in the affairs of ste.am-passengers in America, which must bo taken at the flood in order to lead cither to breakfast or dimior. A minute, therefore, was enough to find mo seated at the table, and contributing my strenuous efforts to the work of destruction. Breaktast was succeeded by tho still greater luxury of basin and toAvel, and when I wont on deck, a few whiffs of a cigar, and the fine scenery of Long Island Sound, had the effect of obliterating all trace of the disagreeables of the night. The yoyage was pleasant and prosperous ; tho wea- ther, though still cold, was clear, and before day closed, I again found myself at New York. CHAPTER IX. NBW YORK. On the dav after my arrival at New York the city was thrown into a bustle by the intelligence that a packet from Liverpool had been telegraphed in the offing. Owing to the prevalence of contrary winds, an unusual period had elapsed without an arrival from Europe, and the whole population seemed agog for news. I dined that day with a friend ; and as there was no party, and we were both anxious to receive the earliest intelligence, he proposed our walking to the news-room, and afterwards returning to wine and the dessert. On approaching the house we found some thousands of people collected about the door, and in the Avindow was EXCITEMENT IT OCCASIONS — BALL. 157 exhibited a placard of the following import ; — " Diike of Wellington and Ministry resigned ; Lord Grey, Pre- mier ; Brougham, Lord Chancellor," &c. It was impossible not to be struck with the extreme interest this intelligence excited. Here and there were groups of quidnuncs engaged in earnest discussion on the consequences of this portentous intelligence. Some anti- cipated inmiediate revolution ; a sort of second edition of the Three Days of Paris. Others were disposed to think that revolution, though inevitable, would be more gradual. A third party looked forward to the speedy restoration of tlie Duke of Wellington to power. But all partook of the ]wrvading excitement ; and the sensa- tion produced by cliese changes in the government could scarcely have been greater in Liverpool than in New York. On the last night of the year there was a public assembly, to which I received the honour of an invitation. The ball-rooms wore very tolerable, but the entrance detestable. If led close past the bar of the City hotel ; and the ladies, in ascending the stairs — which, by the by, were oiFensively dirty- — must have been drenched with tobacco-smoke. Within, however, I found assem- bled a great deal of beauty. At seventeen nothing can be prettier than a smiling damsel of New York. At twenty-two the same damsel, metamorphosed into a matron, has lost a good deal of her attraction. I had never been in so large and miscellaneous a party before. I looked about for solecisms of deportment, but could detect none on the part of the ladies. There was, how- ever, a sort of Transatlanticism about them ; and even their numerous points of resemblance to my fair country- women had the effect of marking out certain shadowy differences, to be felt rather than described. There was certainly an entire absence of what the French call I'air noble — of that look of mingled elegance and distinction which commands admiration rather than I :( ! 158 AMERICAN DANDIES. solicits it. Yet the New York ladies are not vulgar. Far from it. I moan only to say that they are not pre- cisely European ; and with the possession of so much that is amial)le and attractive, they may safely ])loail guilty to Avant of absolute conformity to an arbitrary standard, the authority of which they are not bound to acknowledge. But what sliall be said of the gentlemen? Why, simply that a party of the new police, furnished forth with the requijiite toggery, would have played their part in the ball-room with about as much grace. There is a certain uncontrollable rigidity of muscle about an Ame- rican, and a want of sensibility to the lighter graces of deportment, which makes him, perhaps, the most unhope- ful of all the votaries of Terpsidiore. In this respect the advantage is altogether on the side of the ladies. Their motions are rarely inelegant, and never grotesque. I leave it to other traAcllers to extend this praise to the gentlemen. An American dandy is a being sid generis. He has probably travelled hi Europe, and brought back to his own country a large stock of second-rate fopperies, rings, trinkets, and gold chains, which he displays evidently with full confidence in their powers of captivation. For a season after his return he is all the fasliion. He suggests improvements in quadrille dancing, and every flourish of his toe becomes the object of sedulous imita- tion. Tailors wait on hmi to request the privilege of inspecting his wardrobe. His untravelled companions regard with envy his profusion of jewellery and waist- coats of figured velvet. He talks of " dukes and earls, and all their sweeping train ; and garters, stars, and coronets*appear " in his conversation, as if such things had been familiar to him from his infancy. In short, he reigns for a time the Magnus Apollo of his native town, and his decrees in all matters of taste are received as the oracles of the god. new-year's day. 159 But time passes on. The traveller has returned to the undignified drudgery of the counting-house ; his coats, like his affectations, licconie threadbare, and are rephiced by the more hund)le prothietions of native artists ; later tourists have been the heralds of newer fashions and fopperies ; his opinions are no longer treated with defer- ence ; he sinks to the level of other men, and the vulgar dandy is gradually changed into a plain iiXnierican citi- zen, content with the comforts of life, without concern- ing himself about its elegances. The ball was very pleasant ; and one of its chief attractions, undoubtedly, was an excellent supper. The oyster-soup- favourite dish in this part of the world — was all that Dr Kitchiner could have desired. Turkey, liam, terrapin — a sort of land-crab, t)n which I have not ventured — jellies, creams, ices, fruit, hot punch, and cold lemonade, were in ]»rofusion. Having allerwards remain- ed to witness some badly danced quadrilles, and the perpetration of the first gallopade ever attempted on the American continent, I returned to take " my pleasure in mine inn." It is the custom in New York, on the first day of the year, for the gentlemen to visit all their acquaintances ; and the omission of this observance in regard to any particular family, would be considered as a decided slight. The clergy, also, hold a levee on this day, Avhich is attended by their congregation. For my own part, I confess, I found the custom rather inconvenient, there being about thirty families whose attentions rendered such an acknowledgment indispensable. Determined, however, to fiiil in nothing which could mark my sense of the kindness of my friends, I ordered a coach, and set forth at rather an early hour on this task of visit- paying. The first person on whom I waited was Dr Wain- wright, the clergyman of Grace Church, in whose society I had often experienced much pleasuie. I found him 100 NKW-YK.VU S DAY — N \VY-Y.VUI>. nttirod in full O'»nonioals, -with a tal>lo tlisplayinj? a pro- vision of wino anil oako, and Inisiod in I'onviM'sins; and shaking hands with his parishionors. llavina: paid my oomplinionts, 1 nroooodod on n\y pvosjross, and in tho oourso of about four hoiu*s had the satisfaction of ho- liovinj; that I had discharuvd my duty, tluinrli not — as I aftorwards roniomlHMvd — without sonio oinissiDus, which I trust uiy friiMuls woro irood onousjh to for>ji\o. Tlu» rovitiut^ is as follows : Tho hulios of a fannlv rouiain at hoiui* to roooivo visits : tho jjiMitlonion aro abroad, aotivoly onsiaucd in i^aying tluMu. You outer, shako hantls, aro seated, talk for a ininiUe or two on tho topics of the itay. then luu'rv otVa ■> fiist a you can. Wiuo and cake arc on the tabic, of which each visitor is invited to partake. The custom is of Dutch orisiin. and, I belie . docs not prevail in any other city of t!ie Union. I m. old its iutlucnce on the social intercourse of fami- lies is very salutary. The first day of tin* year is eon- • • • » sidcred a tlav of kindness and reconciliation, on which jx^tty ditVerenecs are forgotten, and trillimi: injuries for- jjiven. It sometimes happens, that between friends long oonnocted, a misumlerstanding takes plact\ Kach is too proud to make concessions, sditMiation follows, j.ud thus are two families, very ]>robably, permanently estri.ngcd. But on this day of annual an\nistv. eai'h of the cvife of the other, kind feelings arc recalled, i>ast grievances overlooked, and at their next nuvting they take each other by the hand, and arc again friends. In eom]>nny with a most intelligent and kind friend, who was lately mayoi- of the city, I visited the Navy- vard at Brooklyn. Conniiodore Chaum-ey, the com- • * • mander, is a tii\e specimen of an old sailor of the truo breed. ]le has a good deal of the Beiihow about him, and one can read in his c»pen and weatherbeatiMi coun- tenance, that it h:is long braved both the battU* and tho bre«)i;e. IIo took us over several meu-of '.var, and a fri- gate vcsso war dura HOUSE OP UKFUOE FOR YOUNG 0FPEND7,nS. 161 ill 5 « pro. !",«• ami raid uiy in tho of 1h>. K— as I fainiiy •Ml (or. gate yet on the stocks, which appeared the most splendid vessel of her eliiss I had ever seen. American men-of- war are hnilt <'hiefly of live ork. the finest and most durable material in the world. Every thinij in these navy-yards is conducted with admirahle jndiyment, for the plain rc;tson — as the Ame- ricans fluMusolvcs assure me — that the manaijement of the navy is a department in which the mob, every where else triinnphinit, ; Asylum, anil (he Asylum for Lunatics. All are conducted with exeuiplary judgment and benevolence, exerted with an ardent and enlightened r^cal for the gene- ral interests of humanity. The first of these institutions is partii'ularly laudabh^ both as respects its t)bjects and manaa-ement. It is .m asvlum for juvenile ofl'enders of both sexes, who, by being thrown into the d(>praved society of a connnon jail, would, in all probabiluy, grow up into hardenetl and incorrigible criminals. In this histitution they are taught habits of regular industry ; are instructed in the principles of religion, and when dismissed, they entt»r the world with ample means at comn\and of earning an honest livelihood. Tho girls are generally bnnl up as semstresses or L i: 162 POLITICAL PARTIES. domestic servants ; and on quitting the institution, are uniformly sent to a part of the country where their previous history is unknown. By this judicious arrange- ment they again start fair, with the full advantage of an unblemished character. The establishment seemed a perfect hive of industry. The taste and talent of the boys is consulted in the choice of a trade. There were young carpenters and blacksmiths, and tailors and brush- makers, and Lilliputian artificers of various kinds, all busily engaged in their peculiar handicraft. Though looking at the details of the establishment with a critical eye, I could detect no fault in any department. There can be no doubt, I think, that the philanthropy to which this institution is indebted for its origin and support, is of the most enlightened kind. I have not yet spoken of the political parties in this Country, and, in truth, the subject is so complicated with opinions continually varying, and interests peculiar to particular districts, and includes the consideration of so many topics, apparently unconnected with politics alto- geiher, that I now enter on it with little expectation of making it ompletely intelligible to an English reader. Of ccau'se, all the world knows that the population of the Union is, or was, divided into two great parties, entitled Federalist and Republican. These terms, how- ever, by no means accurately express the diftbrenecs which divide them. Both parties are Federalist, and both Republican ; but the former fa\ our the policy of granting wider powers to the federal legislature and executive ; of asserting their control over the state go- vernments ; of guarding the constitution against popular encroachment ; in short, of strengthening the bonds of public union, and maintaining a presiding power of suf- fic'cnt force and energy to overawe turbulence at home, and protect the national honour and interests abroad. The Democratic Republican, on the other hand, would enlarge to the utmost extent the political influence POLITICAL PARTIES. 163 of the people. He is in favour of universal suffrage ; a dependent judiciary ; a strict and literal interpretation of the articles of the constitution, and regards the Union simply as a voluntary league between sovereign and independent states, each of which possesses the inalienable right of deciding on the legality of the measures of the general government. The Federalist, in short, is dis- posed 10 regard the United States as one and indivisible, and the authority of the united government as paramount to every other jurisdiction. The Democrat considers the Union as a piece of mo::aic, tesselated with stones of different colours, curiously put together, but possessing no other principle of cohesion than that of mutual con- venience. The one regards the right of withdramng fi'om the national confederacy as indefeasible in each of its members ; the other denies the existence of such right, and maintains the federal government to be invested with the power of enforcing its decrees within the limits of the Unio'"i. During the period succeeding the revolution, New England, pre-eminent in wealth, population, and intelli- gence, gave her princijlea to the Union. The two first presidents wore both Federalists, but their political opponents were rapidly increasing both in numbers and virulence ; and even the services, the high name, and unsullied character of Washington, were not sufficient to protect him from the grossest and most slanderous attacks. Adams succeeded him, and certainly did some- thing to merit the imputations which had been gratui- tously cast on his predecessor. His sedition law was bad ; the prosecutions under it were still worse, and in the very first struggle he was driven from office, to return to it no more.* It is evident that a constitution, however precisely * Carey, in the Olive Branch, mentions a prosecacion under this act, In which a New Jersey man was tried and puiiished for expressing a desire, that the wadding of a gun discharged on a festival day, " had 164 POLITICAL PARTIES, defined, must differ in its practical operation, according to the principles on which it is administered. From the period of Jefferson's accession to power, a change in this respect took place. The government was then admini- stered on democratic principles ; a silent revolution was going forward ; the principles, opinions, and habits of the people, all tended towards the wider extension of political rights ; and at the conclusion of the war with England, the Federalists became at length convinced, that the objects for which they had so long been strenu- ously contending were utterly unattainable. Further contention, therefore, was useless. The name of Fede- ralist had become odious to the peoi>le ; it was heard no more. No candidate for public favour ventured to come forward and declare his belief, that a government, which looked for support to the prejudices of the populace, was necessarily less seciu'e and beneficial than one which represented the deliberate convictions of the wealthier and more enlightened. The result of all this was, an apparent harmony of political principle throughout the Union. Open diffe- rences of opinion were no longer expressed, as to the broad and fundamental doctrines of government. The ascendency of numbers, in opposition to that of property and intelligence, had been firmly established ; the people, in the widest sense of the term, had been recognised as the only source of power and of honour ; and the govern- ment, instead of being enabled to control and regulate the passions and prejudices of the multitude, were forced to adopt them as the guide and standard of their policy. They were compelled, in short, to propose the measures, and profess the principles most ]>alatable to the people, instead of those which wider knowledge and keener sagacity might indicate as most for their advantage. singed or otherwise inflicted damage on " a certain inexpressible part of Mr Adams 1 After such a prosecution, one is only tempted to regret that the eificieacy of the wish was not equal to its patriotism. ' the [his |ni- vas of of \ith fed, lU- Jher de- ^'^Vfw^sr • •' V SUPPRESSION OP FEDERALISM. 165 I remember one of my first impressions in the United States was that of surprise, at the harmony in regard to the great principles of government, which seemed to pervade all classes of the community. In every thing con- nected with men and measures, however, all was clamour and confusion. The patriot of one company was the scoundrel of the next ; and to an uninterested observer, the praise and the abuse seemed both to rest on a foundation too narrow to afford support to such disproportionate superstructures. Parties there evidently were, but it was not easy to become master of the distinctions on which they rested. I asked for the Federalists, and was told, that like the mammoth and the megatherion, they had become extinct, and their principles delighted humanity no longer. I asked for the Democrats, and was desired to look on the countenance of every man I met in the street. This puzzled me, for the principles of this exploded party, appeared, in my deliberate con- viction, to be those most in accordance with political wis- dom, and I had little faith in the efficacy of sudden conversions, either in politics or religion. In such circumstances, instead of attempting to grope my way to a conclusion, by any dark and doubtftil hypothesis, I determined to demand information from those best calculated to afford it. I therefore explained my difficulties to one of the most eminent individuals of the Union, whom I knew at least to have been formerly a Federalist. " How comes it," I asked, " that the party which you formerly adorned by your talents and eloquence, is no longer to be found ? Is it, that the progress of events, increased experience, and more de- liberate and enlightened views, have induced you to relinquish your former tenets ; or, that still entertaining the same opinions, you are simply withheld by policy from expressing them?" His answer — in substance as follows — \vas too striking to be fo. gotten. " My opinions, and I believe those of the party to which I belonged, are 166 AMERICAN UNANIMITY. i unchanged ; and the course of events in this country lias been such, as to impress only a deeper and more thorough conviction of their wisdom. But in the present state of public feeling, we dare not express them. An individual professing such opinions, would not only find himself excluded from every office of public trust within the scope of his reasonable ambition, but he would be regard- ed by his neighbours and fellow-citizens with an evil eye. His words and actions would become the objects of jealous and malignant scrutiny, and he would have to sustain the unceasing attacks of a host of unscrupulous and ferocious assailants. And for what object is his life to be thus embittered, and he is to be cut off from the common objects of honourable ambition ? Why, for the satisfaction of expressing his adherence to an obsolete creed, and his persuasion of the wisdom of certain doc- trines of government, which his judgment assures him are utterly impracticable in the present condition of society." When the Americans do agree, therefore, their una- nimity is really not very wonderful, seeing it proceeds from the observance of the good old rule of punishing all difference of opinion. The consequence, however, has been, not the eradication of federal principles, but a discontinuance of their profession. The combatants fight under a new banner, but the battle is not less bitter on that account. There is no longer any question with regard to increase of power on the part of the general government ; that has long since been decided ; but the point of contention now is, whether it shall keep that authority with which it is at present understood to be invested. But even this substantial ground of differ- ence is rarely brought prominently forward in debate. The struggle generally is Avith regard to particular measures, involving many collateral interests, but which are fel.*; to have a tendency to one side or the other. Thus one great subject of discussion relates to the ing '^mT-"' INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS. 167 has ugh to of dual self the ard- evil ects '0 to lous life the the )lote doc- him of power of the government to expend a portion of the national funds in internal improvements. In 1830, a bill which had passed the legislature for the construction of a national road, was returned with the veto of the President. By the articles of the constitution, the fede- ral legislature is invested with the power of " establish- ing post-offices and post-roads." The doubt is, whether the word establish, gives the privilege to construct, or is to be understood as simply granting authority to convert into post-roads, thoroughfares already in existence. A principle of great importance is no doubt involved in this question, since by it must be decided whether the Federal Government have the power of adopting any general system of improvements, or of executing public works with a view to the national advantage. The existence of such a power would no doubt materially tend to strengthen its influence ; and this, which is a recommendation with one party, constitutes the chief objection with the other. General Jackson is the lead- ing champion on the one side ; Mr Clay, his opponent for the Presidency, on the other. The latter is backed by the Northern and a considerable portion of the Cen- tral States ; the former, by the Southern and Western. There can be no doubt, I imagine, that the Federal- ists, in supporting the affirmative of this question, are influenced by the tendency of the opinions they advocate, to enlarge and strengthen the power of the executive ; but the grounds on which they attempt to gain prose- lytes are entirely collateral. They urge the general expediency of such a power ; the impossibility of indu- cing the legislatures of the diffijrent States to concur heartily in any one project for the benefit of the whole ; the necessity of unity of execution, as well as unity of design : and the probability, that if such improvements are not undertaken by the Federal Government, they will never be executed at all. Of course, such questions as the Tariff", and that of 168 POLITICAL DIFFERENCES. I which I have just spoken, are not exclusively decided by political principle. Private interest steps in ; many of the democratic party adopt the views of their opponents on some single question of policy', and where that is of great importance, range themselves under the same banner. Thus a candidate for Congress is often sup- ported by men differing on many questions, and agreeing only in one. Commercial men are usually in favour of the system of internal improvements, because these must generally bring with them increased facilities for com- merce. A new road may open a new market ; the deep- ening of a harbour may change the whole aspect of a province ; and those who by their local position or pur- suits are more immediately interested in these benefits, may be pardoned, if, on an occasion of such moment, they lay aside their principles, and act on the narrower and stronger motive of personal advantage. In a country of such extraordinary extent as the United States, there are of course a vast number of local interests, which modify the application of theoretical principle. In the representative of each district, some peculiarity of creed is commonly necessary to secure the support of his constituents. Conformity on leading points of opinion is not enough ; there is almost always some topic, however unconnected with politics, on which coin- cidence of sentiment is demanded. I may quote a striking instance of this in the State of New York. Some years ago a man of the name of Morgan, who wrote a book revealing the secrets of Free- Masonry, was forcibly carried oflf, and murdered. Of the latter fact there is no direct proof, but it is impossible to account for the circumstances on any other supposition. He is known to have been conveyed to the neighbourho'"d of Niagara, and there is evidence of his having passed a night there ; but from that period to the present, no traces of the unfortunate man have ever been discovered. Of course the vigilance of justice was aroused by this MASONS AND ANTI-MASONS. 169 dby Jients (at is same [sup- [eing of pom- outrage. The publi< prosecutor was long unsuccessful in his attempts to bring the criminals to trial. At length, however, strong circumstantial evidence was obtained, which went to fix participation in the crime on certain individuals. They were brought to trial. A majority of the jury had no doubt of their guilt, but the minority thought otherwise, and the men were acquitted. The circumstance of the jurymen who procured the acquittal being Free- Masons, contributed to inflame the public indignation, already strongly excited by the ori- ginal outrage. The principles of this secret society had not only caused crime to be committed, but justice to be denied. Unquestionably Free- Masonry had given rise to murder, and as unquestionably, in the opinion of many, its influence had secured impunity to the offenders. The question thus arose — is a society which produces such consequences to be tolerated in a Christian com- munity ? A large portion of the people banded together in hostility to all secret and afiiliated societies. They pronounced them dangerous and unconstitutional, and pledged themselves to exert their utmost efforts for their suppression. The Masons, on the other hand, were a widely rami- fied and powerful body, embracing in their number nearly half the population of the State. Their consti- tution gave them the advantage of unity of purpose and of action. The keenness of contest, of course, excited the passions of both parties. The public press ranged itself on different sides ; every candidate for office was compelled to make confession of his creed on this impor- tant subject, and to fight under the banner of one party or the other ; and the distinction of Mason or Anti- Mason superseded, if it did not extinguish, those arising from differences more legitimately political. In the late elections the Masonic party were triumphant ; but the struggle is still carried on with vigour, and there is no doubt that the votes in the next presidential election 170 DIFFICULTY OF UNDERSTANDING AMERICAN POLITICS. will he materially affected by it. Indeed the mania on this subject is daily spreading. It was at first exclu- sively confined to the State of New York, it is now becoming diffused over the New England States and Pennsylvania. It is such collateral influences which puzzle an Eng- lishman, when he attempts to become acquainted with the state of parties in this country. He looks for the broad distinction of political principle, and he finds men fighting about Masonry, or other matters which have no apparent bearing on the great doctrines of govern- ment. He finds general opinions modified by local interests, and seeks in vain to discover some single and definite question which may serve as a touchstone of party distinctions. It is only by acute and varied obser- vation, and by conversation with enlightened men of all parties, that he is enabled to make due allowance for the variations of the political compass, and judge accurately of the course which the vessel is steering. The Americans have a notion that they are a people not easily understood, and that to comprehend their character requires a long apprenticeship of philosophical observation, and more both of patience and liberality than are usually compatible with the temper and preju- dices of foreign travellers. This is a mistake. The peculiarities of the Americans lie morvj on the surface than those of any people I have ever known. Their features are broad and marked ; there exists little indi- vidual eccentricity of character, and it is in their poli- tical relations alone that they are difficult to be under- stood. One fact, ho^vever, is confessed by all parties, that the progress of democratic principles from the period of the revolution has been very great. During my whole residence in the United States, I conversed with no enlightened American, who did not confess, that the constitution now, though the same in letter with that established in 1789, is essentially difierent in spirit. It opii 'ITICS. SOCIETY OP WORRIES. 171 la on xclu- now s and was undoubtedly the wish of Washington and Hamilton to counterpoise, as much as circumstances would ])ermit, the rashness of democracy by the caution and wisdom of an aristocracy of intelligence and wealth. There is now no attempt at counterpoise. The weight is all in one scale, and the consequences are already apparent even to ordinary observation. The figure pointed at by the finger of the political dial is so strongly marked, that he who runs may read. I shall state a few circumstances which may illustrate the progress and tendency of opinion among the people of New York. In that city a separation is rapidly taking place between the different orders of society. The operative class have already formed themselves into a society, under the name of " The Workies," in direct opposition to those who, more favoured by nature or fortune, enjoy the luxuries of life without the necessity of manual labour. These people make no secret of their demands, which, to do them justice, are few and emphatic. They are published in the newspapers, and may be read on half the walls of New York. Their first postulate is " EQUAL AND UNIVERSAL EDUCATION." It is false, they say, to maintain that there is at present no privileged order, no practical aristocracy, in a country where dis- tinctions of education are permitted. That portion of the population whom the necessity of manual labour cuts off from the opportunity of enlarged acquirement, is in fact excluded from all the valuable offices of the Common- wealth. As matters are now ordered in the United States, these are distributed exclusively among one small class of the community ; while those who constitute the real strength of the country, have barely a voice in the distribution of those loaves and fishes which they are not perm_itted to enjoy. There does exist thei —they argue — an aristocracy of the most odious kind — an aris- tocracy of knowledge, education, and refinement, which is inconsistent with the true democratic principle of ;ilkiA&,^.; 172 OBoECTS Am) PRINCIPLES OF THE WORKIES. absolute equality. They pledge themselves, therefore, to exert every effort, mental and physical, for the aboli- tion of this flagrant injustice. They proclaim it to the world as a nuisance which must be abated, before the freedom of an American be something more than a mere empty boast. They solemnly declare that they will not rest satisfied till every citizen in the United States shall receive the same degree of education, and start fair in the competition for the honours and the offices of the state. As it is of course impossible — and these men know it to be so^ — to educate the labouring class to the standard of the richer, it is their professed object to reduce the latter to the same mental condition with the former ; to prohibit all supererogatory knowledge ; to have a maximum of acquirement beyond which it shall be punishable to go. But those who limit their views to the mental degra- dation of their country, are in fact the moderates of the party. There are others who go still further, and boldly advocate the introduction of an Agrarian law, and a periodical division of property. These unques- tionably constitute the extreme gauche of the Worky Parliament, but still they only follow out the principles of their less violent neighbours, and eloquently dilate on the justice and propriety of every individual being equal- ly supplied with food and clothing ; on the monstrous iniquity of one man riding Li hiS carriage while another walks on foot, and after his drive indulging in a bottle of Champagne, while many of his neighbours are shame- fully compelled to be content with the pure element. Only equalize property, they say, and neither would drink Champagne or water, but both would have brandy, a consummation worthy of centuries of struggle to attain. All this is nonsense undoubtedly, nor do I say that this party, though strong in New York, is yet so numerous or so widely diffused as to create immediate alarm. In PROSPECTS OP THE UNITED STATES. 173 and the elections, however, for the civic offices of the city, their influence is strongly felt; and there can be no doubt that as population becomes more denee, and the supply of labour shall equal, or exceed the demand for it, the strength of this party must be enormously aug- mented. Their ranks will always be recruited by the needy, the idle, and the profligate, and like a rolling snowball it will gather strength and volume, until at length it comes down thundering with the force and desolation of an avalanche. This even* may be distant, but it is not the less cer- tain on that account. It is nothing to say, that the immense extent of fertile territory yet to be occupied by an unborn population will delay the day of ruin. It will delay, but it cannot prevent it. The traveller, at the source of the Mississippi, in the very heart of the Ame- rican continent, may predict with perfect certainty, that however protracted the wanderings of the rivulet at his foot, it must reach the ocean at last. In proportion as the nearer lands are occupied, it is very evident that the region to Avhich emigration will be directed must of necessity be more distant. The pressure of population therefore will continue to augment in the Atlantic States, and the motives to removal become gradually weaker. Indeed, fit the present rate of extension, the circle of occupied territory must before many generations be so enormously enlarged, that emigration will be confined wholly to the Western States. Then, and not till then, will come the trial of the American constitution ; and until that trial has been passed, it is mere nonsense to appeal to its stability. Nor is this pei'iod of trial apparently very distant. At the present raiio of inc ease, the population of the United States doubles itself in about twenty-four years ; so that in half a century it will amount to about fifty millions, of which, at least, ten millions will be slaves, or at all events a degraded caste, cut off from all the 174 POLITICAL PROSPECTS rights and privileges of citizenship. Before this period it is very certain that the pressure of the poi)ulation, on the means of subsistence, especially in the Atlantic States, will be very great. The price of labour will have fallen, while that of the necessaries of life must be pro- digiously enhanced. The poorer and more suffering class, will want the means of emigrating to a distant region of unoccupied territory. Poverty and misery will be abroad ; the great majority of the peojile will be without property of any kind, except the thews and sinews with which God has endowed them ; they will choose legislators under the immediate pressure of priva- tion : and if, in such circumstances, any man can antici- pate security of property, his conclusion must be founded, I suspect, rather on the Avishes of a sanguine tempera- ment, than on any rational calculation of probabilities. It is the present policy of the government to encourage and stinudate tlie premature growth of a uianufacturing population. In this it will not bo successful ; but no man can contemplate the vast internal resources of tlio U?iited States — the varied i)roductions of their soil — the unparalleled extent of river communication — the inex- haustible stores of coal and iron which are spread even on the surface — and doubt that the Americans are des- tined to become a great manufacturing nation. Whon- e^^er increase of population shall have reduced the price of labour to a par with that in other countries, these advantages will come into full play ; the Uni«^ed States will then meet England on fair terms in every market of the v/orld, and in many branchos of industry at least, will very probably attain an unquestioned supc lority. Huge manufacturing cities will spring up in various quarters of the Union ; the population Avill congregate hi masses, and all the vices incident to such a condition of society will attain speedy maturity. Millions of men will depend for subsistence on the demand for a parti- cular manufacture, and yet this demand Avill of necessity beli vibrj weal OF THE UNITED ST\TES. 175 be liable to perpetual fluctuation. When the pendulum vibrates in one direction, there will bo an influx of wealth and prosperity ; when it vibrates in the other, misery, discontent, and turbulence will spread through the land. A change of fashion — a war — the glut of a foreign market — a thousand unforeseen and inevitable accidents are liable to produce this, and deprive multi- tudes of bread, who but a month before were enjoying all the comforts of life. Let it be remembered that in this suffering class will be practically deposited the whole political power of the state ; that there can be no militar}^ force to maintain civil order, and protect pro- perty ; and to what quarter, I should be glad to know, is the rich man to look for security, either of person or fortune ? There will be no occasion, however, for convulsion or violence. The WorkT/ convention will only have to choose representatives of their own principles, in order to accomplish a general system of spoliation, in the most legal and constitutional manner. It is not even neces- sary that a majority of the federal legislature should concur in this. It is competent to the government of each state to dispose of the property within their own limits as they think proper ; and whenever a numerical majority of the people shall be in favour of an Agrarian law, there exists no counteracting influence to prevent, or even to retard its adoption. I have had the advantage of conversing with many of the most eminent Americans of the Union on the future prospects of their country, and I certainly remember none who did not admit that a period of trial, such as that I have ventured to describe, is according to all human calculation inevitable. Many of them reckoned much on education as a means of safety; and unquestionably in a country where the mere power of breathing carries with it the right of suftiage, the ditt'usion of sound know- ledge is always essential to the public security. It wmm 176 APPROACHING TRIAL unfortunately happens, however, that in proportion aa poverty increases, not only the inc^ns, but the desire of instruction are necessarily diminisned. The man whose whole energies are required for the supply of his bodily wants, has neither time nor inclination to concern him- self about his mental deficiencies ; and the result of human experience does not warrant us in reckoning on the restraint of individual cupidity, where no obstacle existt; to its gratification, by any deliberate calculation of its consequences on society. There can be no doubt, that if men could be made wise enougli to act on an enlarged and enlightened view of their own interest, government might be dispensed with altogether ; but what statesman would legislate on the probability of such a condition of society, or rely on it as a means of future safety ? The general answer, however, is, that tlie state of things which I have ventured to describe, is very 'listant. " It is enough," they say, " for each generation to look to itself, and we leave it to our descendants some cen- turies hence to take care of their interests as we do of ours. We enjoy all manner of freedom and security under our present constitution, and really feel very little concern about the evils which may afflict our posterity." I cannot help believing, however, that the period of trial is somewhat less distant than such reasoncrs comfort themselves by imagining ; but if the question be con- ceded that democracy necessarily leads to anarch^' and spoliatir i, it does not seem that the more length of road to be travelled is a point of much importance. This, of course, would vary according to the peculiar circum- stances of every country in which the experiment might be tried. In England the journey would be performed with railway velocity. In the United States, with the great advantages they possess, it may continue a gene- ration or two longer, but the termination is the same. The doubt regards time, not destination. /.t present the United States are perhaps more safe OF THE AMERICAN CONSTITUTION. 177 from revolutionary contention than any other country in the world. But this safety consists in one circum- stance alone. The great majority of the people are pos- sessed of property ; have what is called a stake in the hedge; and are therefore, by interest, opposed to all measures which may tend to its insecurity. It is for such a condition of society that the present constitution was framed ; and coulu this great bulwark of prudent government be rendered as permanent as it is effective, there could be no assignable limit to the prosperity of a people so favoured. But the truth is undeniable, that as population increases, another state of things must necessarily arise, and one unfortunately never dreamt of in the philosophy of American legislators. The majority of the people will then consist of men without property of any kind, subject to the immediate pressure of want, and then will be decided the great struggle between property and numbers ; on the one side hunger, rapacity, and phy^ucal power ; reason, jus- tice, and helplessness on the other. The weapons of this fearful contest are already forged ; the hands will soon be born that are to wield them. At all events, let no man appeal to the stability of the American govern- ment as being established by experience, till thli trial has been overpast. Forty years are no time to tost the permanence, or, if I may so speak, the vitality of a constitution, the immediate advantages of which are strongly felt, and the evils latent and comparatively remote. It may be well to explain, that what I have hitherto said has rather been directed to the pervading demo- cracy of the institutions of the different States than to the federal government. Of the latter it is difficult to speak, because it is difficult to ascertain with any preci- sion the principles on which it is founded. I think it was a saying of Lord Eldon, that there was no act of Parliament so carefully worded that he could not drive M 178 CHARACTER OP THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. a coach and six through it. The American lawyers have been at least equally successful with regard to their federal constitution. No man appe ,rs precisely to un- derstand what it is, but all agree that it is somothing very wise. It is a sort of political gospel, in which every man finds a reflection of his own prejudices and opinions. Ask a New England statesman what is the constitution, and he will tell you something very differ- ent from a Georgian or South Carolinian. Even the halls of Congress yet echo with loud and bitter disputa- tion as to the primary and fundamental principle on which it is based. Ask the President of the United States, what is the nature of the government he admini- sters with so much honour to himself and advantage to his country, and General Jackson will tell you that it is a government of consolidation, possessing full power to enforce its decrees in every district of the Union. Ask the Vice-president, and he will assure you that the government is merely confederative, and depends for its authority on the free consent of the individual States. Ask Mr Clay or Mr Webster what are the powers of this apparently unintelligible constitution, and they will probably include in their number the privilege of taxing at discretion the commerce of the country, and expend- ing the money so raised in projects of internal improve- ment. Put the same question to General Hayne or Mr Van Buren, and they will assert that such doctrine is of the most injurious tendency, and jjroceeds altogether on a false interpretation ; and yet all will agree that the federal constitution is the highest, most perspicuous, and faultless achievement of human legislation ! It may be so, but till this masterpiece of polity becomes Something more definite and intelligible, a foreigner may perhaps be excused for holding his admiration in abeyance. At all events, it is abundantly clear, that the seeds of ^iscord are plentifully scattered throughout the Union. , »K'-:r^>- SOURCES OF FUTURE DISCORD. 179 the . Men of different habits, different interests, different modes of thought ; the inhabitants of different climates, and agreeing only in mutual antipathy, are united under a common government, whose powers are so indefinite as to afford matter for interminable and rancorous dis- putation. Does such a government bear the impress of permanence ? Or does it not rather seem, in its very structure, to concentrate all the scattered elements of decay ? When we contemplate the political relations of this singular people, the question naturally arises whether unity of government be compatible with great diversities of interepi; in the governed. There may possibly be reasonera who are prepared to answer this question in the affirmative, and to these we may look for instruction as to the advantages such a government as that of the United States possesses over others of smaller extent, and therefore capable of closer adaptation to the pecu- liar wants and interests of a people. To me it certainly appears that there can be no firm adhesion without homogeneity in a population. Let men once feel that their interests are the same ; that they are exposed to the same dangers ; solicitous for the same objects, par- taking of the same advantages, and connected by some reasonable degree of geographical propinquity, and in such a community there is no fear of separation or disn'emberment. The population in such circumstances forms one uniform and firmly-concatenated whole, whereas a union on other p^'inciples resembles that of a bag of sand, in wliich the separate particles, though held together for a time, retain their original and abstract individuality. Let us look for a moment at this Union, In Florida and Louisiana they grow sugar ; in Maine there is scarcely sun enough to ripen a crop of maize. The people of these States are no less different than the pro- ductions of their soil. They are animated by no senti- 180 DISADVANTAGES OP THE UNION. ment of brotherhood and affinity. Nature has divided them by a distance of two thousand miles ; the interests of one are neither understood nor eared for in the other. In short, they are connected by nothing but a clumsy and awkward piece of machinery, most felicitously con- trived to deprive both of the blessing of self-government. What is gained by this ? A certain degree of strength, undoubtedly, but not more than might be produced by an alliance between independent States, unaccompanied by that jealousy and conflict of opposing interests, wliich is the present curse of the whole Union. I remember, when at Washington, stating my impro' - sions on this subject to a distinguished member of the House of Representatives, who admitted that the ends of good government would most probably be better and more easily attainable were the Union divided into seve- ral republics, firmly united for purposes of defence, but enjoying complete legislative independence. " And yet," he I'ontinued, " the scheme could not possibly suc- ceed. The truth is, the Union is necessary to prevent us from cutting each other's throats" Nor is this to be considered as the singular opinion of some eccentric individual. I have often conversed on the subject with men of great intelligence in different parts of the Union, and found a perfect harmony of opinion as to the results of separation. The northern gentlemen, in particular, seemed to regard the federal government as the a^'k of their safety from civil war and bloodshed. In such circumstances it might charitably be wished, that their ark was a stronger sea-boat, and better calculated to weather the storms to which it is likely to be exposed. In truth, every year must increase the perils of this federal constitution. Like other bubbles, it is at any time liable to burst, and the world will then discover that its external glitter covered nothing but wind. It may split to-morrow on the Tariff question, or it may go on, till, like a di-opsical patient, it dies of mere exten- OPINIONS IN REGARD TO IT. 181 sioi, when its remains will probably be denied even the decent honours of Christian burial. It was near giving up the ghost at the time of the Hartford convention, and is now in a state of grievous suffering from the Carolina fever. It will probably survive this attack as it did the former, since the great majority of the States are at present in favour of its continuance. But, with the prevalence of the doctrine of nullification, it is impossible it can ever gain much strength or vigour. If each State is to have the privilege of sitting in judg- ment on the legality of its measures, the range of its legislation must necessarily be very confined. It will puzzle the ingenuity of American statesmen, to dis- cover some policy which would prove palatable to the various members of the Union, and which all interpre- ters of the constitution would confess to be within the narrow limits of its power. Let us suppose in England that each county asserted the privilege of nullifying, when it thought proper, the acts of the British Parliament. Leicestershire would summon her population in convention to resist any reduction of the foreign wool-duty. Kent and Surrey would nullify the hop-duty. Lay a rude finger on kelp, and a distant threat of separation would be heard from the Orkneys. Dorset and Wilts would insist on the continuance o^ the corn-laws, and woe to the Chan- cellor of the Exchequer who should venture to raise the Highland w^ar-slogan by an impost on horned cattle ! Yet in Great Britain there exist no provincial jealousies, and the interests of the whole kingdom are far more intimately amalgamated than can ever be the case in the United States. Amid the multitude of events which threaten the dis- solution of the Union, I may venture to specify one. The influence of each State in the election of the Presi- dent is in the exact ratio of the amount of its popula- tion. In this respect the increase in some States is far 182 DANGERS WHICH MENACE greater than in others. The unrivalled advantages of New York have already given it the lead, and the same causes must necessarily still continue to augment its comparative superiority. Ohio — a State also rich in natural advantages — has recently been advancing with astonishing rapidity, and the time is apparently not far distant when three States (New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio) must possess a numerical majority of the whole population, and of course the power of electing the President, independently of the other twenty-one States. Will the States thus virtually excluded, tamely submit to this, or will they appeal to Congress for an amendment of the constitution ? There can be no prospect of redress from this quarter. The same supe- riority of population which gave those three States the power of electing the President, has of course also given them the majority of the House of Representatives, and no amendment of the constitution can take place with- out the concurrence of two-thirds of both houses. Besides, the principle of election by numerical majority is fundamental throughout the Union, and could not be abrogated without a total violation of consistency. It does appear, therefore, that in no great distance of time the whole substantial influence of the federal govern- ment may be wielded by three States, and that when- ever these choose to combine, it will be in their power to carry any measure, however obnoxious to the rest of the Union. The Senate, it is true, which consists of delegates in equal number from each State, would be free from this influence ; but in any struggle with the more popular house, it must of course prove the weaker party, and be compelled to yield. Those know little of the character of the American people, who imagine that the great majority of the States would tolerate being reduced to the condition of political ciphers. Their jealousy of each other is very great, and there can be no doubt, that should the con- THE STABILITY OP THE UNION. 183 tingency hero contemplated occur, it must occasion a total disruption of the bonds of union. I believe it is the probability of such an event, joined to the appre- hension of some interference with the condition of the slave population, which makes the people of the South- ern States so anxious to narrow the power of the general government. At all events, it will be singular indeed if the se(Kls of civil broil, disseminated in a soil so admi- rably fitted to bring them to maturity, should not even- tually yield an abundant harvest of animosity and dis- sension.* After much — I hope impartial and certainly patient — observation, it does appear to mo, that universal suf- frage is the rock on which American freedom is mosi, likely to suffer shipwreck. The intrinsic evils of the system are very great, and its adoption in the United States was the more monstrous, because, a qualification in property is there not only a test of intelligence, but of moral character. The man must either be idle or profligate, or more probably both, who does not, in a country where labour is so highly rewaided, obtain a qualification of some sort. He is evidently unworthy of the right of suffi'age, and by every wise legislature would be debarred from its exercise. In densely peopled countries the test of property in reference to moral qua- lities is fallible — perhaps too fallible to be relied on with much confidence. In the United States it is unerringy or at least the possible exceptions are so few, and must arise from circumstances so peculiar, that it is altoge- ther unnecessary they should find any place in the calcu- • Tho opinions I have ventured to express on this subject arc by no means singular. They are those of a largo portion of the American people. Chancellor Kent — the ablest constitutional lawyer of his country — says, in his Commentaries, " If ever the tranquillity of this nation is to he disturbed, and its pea^e jeopardized by a struggle for power among them, selves, it will be upon thii: very subject of the choice of a President. It is th« question tliat is eventualfj t^ attest the goodness and try the strength of the constitution." And many other authorities might bo adduced, were the sutgect one on which mere authority could have much weight. ■ 184 UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE. JEFFERSON — ! lations of a statesman. But American lof^'islators have thought proper to cast away this inestimal>le advantage. Seeing no immediate danger in the utmost extent of suffrage, they were content to remain blind to the future. They took every precaution tliat the rights of the poor man should not be encroached on by the rich, but never seem to have contemplated the possibility that the rights of the latter might ])e violated by the former. American protection, like Irish reciprocity, was all on one side. It was withheld where most needed ; it was profusely lavished whore there was no risk of danger. They put a sword in the hand of one combatant, and took the shield from the arm of the other. The leader who gave the first and most powerful impulse to the democratic tendencies of the constitution was unquestionably Jefferson. His countrymen call him great, but in truth he was great only when com- pared with those by whom he was surrounded. In brilliance and activity of intellect he was inferior to Hamilton ; but Hamilton in heart and mind was an aris- tocrat, and too honourable and too proud to shape his political course to catch the flitting gales of popular favour. Death, fortunately for Jefferson, removed the only rival, by whom his reputation could have been eclipsed, or his political principles successfully opposed. Adams he encountered and overthrow. Federalism, never calculated to secure popular favour, dwindled on, till in the termination of the late war it received its death-blow, and the democratic party remained undis- puted lords of the ascendant. We seek in vain in the writings of Jeflferson for indi- cations of original or profound thought. When in France, he had been captivated by that shallow philosophy of which Diderot and Condorcet were the apostles, and he returned to America, the zealous partisan of opinions, which no subsequent experience could induce him to relinquish or modify. During by far the greater por- HIS CHABACTER. 185 tion of his life, the intellect of Jefterson remained sta- tionary. Time passed on ; generations were gathered to their fathers ; the dawn of liberty on the continent of Europe had terminated in ^ bloody sunset ; but the shadow on the dial of his mind remained unmoved. In his correspondence we find him to the very last com- placently pi'tting forth the stale and flimsy dogmas, which, when backed by the guillotine, had passed for unanswerable in the Jacobin coteries of the Revolution. The mind of Jefferson Avas essentially unpoetical. In his whole works there is no trace discoverable of imagi- native power. Ilis benevolence was rather topical than expansive. It reached France, but never ventured across the Channel. Had Najtolcon invaded England, the heart and prayers of Jefferson would have followed him in the enterprise. He would have gloated over her fallen palaces, her conflagrated cities, her desolsite fields. Her blood, her sufferings, her tears, the glorious memory of her past achievements, would in him have excited no feeling of compassionate regret. Jefferson had little enthusiasm of character. Nor was he rich in those warm charities and affections in which great minds are rarely deficient. He has boon truly called a good hater. His resentments were not vehement and fiery ebullitions, burning fiercely for a time, and then subsiding into indifference or dislike. They were cool, fiendlike, and ferocious ; unsparing, undying, unappeasable. The enmi- ties of most men terminate with the death of their object. It was the delight of Jefferson to trample even on the graves of his political opponents. The manner in which he speaks of Hamilton in his correspondence, and the charges by which he vainly attempts to blast his repu- tation, will attach an indelible tarnish to his own me- mory. He never forgave the superior confidence which Washington reposed in the wisdom and integrity of Hamilton. The only amiable feature in the whole life of Jefferson was his reconciliation with Adams, and there 180 MADISON- -MUNROE — JOHN QUINCT ADAMS. the efficient link was community of hatred. Both detest- ed Hamilton. The moral character of Jefferson was repulsive. Con- tinually puling about liberty, equality, and the degra- ding curse of slavery, he brought his own children to the hammer, and made money of his debaucheries. Even at his death, he did not manumit his numerous oft'spring, but left them, soul and body, to degradation, and the cart-whip. A daughter of Jeft'erson was sold some years ago, by public auction, at New Orleans, and purchased by a society of gentlemen, who wished to testify, by her liberation, their ad miration of the statesman, " Wlio dreamt of freedom in a slave's ambrace." This single line gives more insight to the character of the man, than whole volumes of panegyric. It will out- live his epitaph, write it who may. Jefferson was succeeded by Madison, a mere reflex of his political opinions. If he wanted the harsher points of Jefferson's character, he wanted also its vigour. The system he pursued was indistinguishable from that of his predecessor, and during his Presidency the current of democracy flowed on with increased violence and velocity. Munroe came next, and becoming at length aware of the prevailing tendencies of the constitution, was anxious to steer a middle course. He organized a piebald cabinet, composed of men of different opinions, and the result of their conjunction was a sort of hybrid policy, half federalist and half democratic, v;hich gave satisfaction to no party. At the termination of Mr Munroe's second period of office, Mr John Quincy Adams became his successor, by a sort of electioneering juggle which occasioned a uni- versal sentiment of disgust. What the principles of this statesman were, or are, seems a matter not very intelli- gible to his own countrymen, and of course is still less so to a foreigner. All that is necessary to be known is, that at the expiration of four years Mr Quincy Adams GENERAL JACKSON. 187 was turned out, to tho great satisfaction of the whole Union, and that, though he still continues in the healthy- enjoyment of all corporeal and mental functions, there is assuredly no chance that he Avill ever again bo pro- moted to any office of political trust and importance. General Jackson, the present President, has always been an eminent momlier of tlie democratic party. His acces- sion to office, howover, united to the experience of a long life, is understood to have induced a change in some of his opinions, and a modification of others. His policy is as moderate as the circumstances of the times wiii per- mit. On the Tariff' question his opinions are not pre- cisely known, but he decidedly opposes the application of the public money, under direction of the federal government, to projects of internal improvement. General Jackson was certainly indebted for his pre- sent elevation to the reputation he acquired in the suc- cessful defence of New Orleans. In truth, I believe his popularity is rather military than political, since even those — and they .are many^ — who dislike him as a politi- cian, extol him as the first general of the age, whose reputation beggars the fame of the most celebrated modern strategist;^. It is excusable to smile at this, but scarcely fair to visit it with severity of ridicule. New Orleans — for want of a better — is the American Waterloo ; and while the loss to England occasioned by this disaster' is a fixed quantity, neither to be increased nor diminished, Avhy should we object to the display of a little harmless vanity, or demand that our successful opponents should measure the extent of their achievement rather by our standard than by their own ? When talking of American statesmen, I may as well detail a few circumstances connected with one, who has certainly played a very conspicuous part in the politics of his country. I allude to the celebrated Colonel Burr, formerly Vice-President of the United States, and who, 188 COLONEL BURR. in 1800, was within a vote of becoming President in opposition to Jefferson and Adams. It is well known, that strong political differences with General Hamilton, embittered by a good deal of personal dislike, led to a duel, in which Hamilton lost his life. To this misfor- tune is attributable the entire ruin of Colonel Burr's prospects as a statesman. Hamilton was admired by all parties, and the voice of lamentation was heard from the whole Union on the premature extinction of the highest intellect of the country. There arose a general and powerful feeling of indignation against the author of this national calamity; but Burr was not a man to shrink from the pelting of any tempest, however vehement. He braved its violence, but at once knew that his popu- larity was gone for ever. Subsequently he was concerned in some conspiracy to seize on part of Mexico, of which he was to become sovereign, by the style and title — I suppose — of Aaron the First, King or Emperor of the Texas. Colonel Burr was likewise accused of treason to the common- wealth, in attempting to overthrow the constitution by force of ai'ms. But a veil of mystery hangs around this portion of American history. I have certainly read a great deal about it, and left off nearly as wise as when I began. A conspiracy of some sort did undoubtedly exist. Preparations were in progress to collect an arma- ment on the Ohio, and there was some rumour of its descending the Mississippi and seizing on New Orleans. Some of Burr's followers were tried, but — unless my memory deceives me — acquitted. At all events, mate- rials could not be discovered for the conviction of the Great Catiline, whose projects, whether defensible or not, were original, and indicative of the fearless character of the man. His acquittal, however, by two juries, was not suffi- cient to establish his innocence in the opinion of his countrymen. He M^as assailed by hatred and execration ; hi 0( ur fr( VISIT TO COLOrfEL BURR. 189 his name was made a by-word for every thing that was odious in morals, and unprincipled in politics. It was under such circumstances that Burr became an exile from his country for several years. During that period he visited England, where he attracted the jealous ob- servation of the Ministry, and his correspondence with France being more frequent than was quite agreeable, and of a cast somewhat too political, he received a polite invi- tation to quit the country with the least possible delay. Colonel Burr now lives in New York, secluded from society, where his great talents and extensive profes- sional knowledge, still gain him some employment as a consulting lawyer. A friend of mine in Ne\r York enquired whether I shojild wish for an interview with this distinguished person. I immediately answered in the affirmative, and a note was addressed to Colonel Burr, requesting per- mission to introduce me. The answer contained a polite assent, and indicated an hour when his avocations would permit his having sufficient leisure for the enjo_>T:nent of conversation. At the time appointed, my friend con- veyed me to a house in one of the poorer streets of the city. The Colonel received us on the landing-place with the manners of a finished courtier, and led the wpy to his little library, which, judging from the appearance of the volumes, was principally furnished with works con- nected with the law. In person, Colonel Burr is diminutive, and I was much struck with the resemblance he bears to the late Mr Perceval. His physiognomy is expressive of strong sagacity. The eye, keen, penetrating, and deeply set ; the forehead broad and prominent ; the mouth small, but disfigured by the ungraceful form of the lips ; and the other features, though certainly not coarse, are irre- concilable with any theory of beauty. On the whole, I have rarely seen a more remarkable countenance. Its expression is highly intellectual, but I imagined I could 190 VOYAGE 10 BRUNSWICK. detect the lines of strong passion mingled with those of deep thought. The manners of Colonel Burr are tliose of a highly-bred gentleman. His powers of conver- sation are very great, and the opinions he expresses on many subjects marked by much shrewdness and origi- nality. When in England he had become acquainted Avith many of the Whig leaders, and I found him perfectly versed in every thing eonn'^r « with our national politics. It would be an unwarrantable breach of the confidence of private life, were I to publish any particulars of the very remarkable conversation I enjoyed with this emi- nent person. I shall, therefore, merely state, that having encroached perhaps too long, both on the time and patience of Colonel Burr, I bade him farewell, with sincere regret that a career of public life, which had opened so brilliantly, should not have led to a more for- tunate termination. CHAPTER X. PHILADELPHIA. On the 8th of January I again bade farewell to New York, and end)arked on board of a New Brunswick steamer on my way to Philadelphia. Our course lay up the llaritan river, which has nothing interesting to display in point of scenery, and the morning being raw and gusty, the voyage was not particularly agreeable. It occupied about four hours, and on reaching Brunswick, we found a cavalcade of nine stage-corx'hes, drawn up for the accommodation of the passengers. In these we were destined to cross the country between the Raritan and Delaware, which forms part of the State of New JOURNEY TO PHILADELPHIA. 191 Jersey. In theory nothing could be easier than this journey. The distance was only twenty-seven miles ; and in a thoroughfare so much travelled as that between the two great cities of the Union, it was at least not probable that travellers would be subjected to much inconvenience. But theory and experience were at variance in this case, as in many others. We changed coaches at every stage, and twice had the whole baggage of the party to be unpacked r,nd reloaded. The road was detestable ; the jolting even worse than what I had suffered on my journey from Providence to Boston. For at least half the distance, the coach was axle-deep in mud, and once it fairly stuck in a rut, and might have conthiued stick- ing till doomsday, had the passengers not dismo"nted to lighten the vehicle. I enquired the reason of the disgraceful neglect of this important line of conmiunica- tion, and was answered, that as it was intended at some future period to have a railway, it would be mere folly to go to any expense in repairing it. Thus are this intelligent people content to sacrifice a great present benefit, to a mere speculative, and probably remote contingency. The scenery through which our route lay was devoid of beauty, and the soil wretchedly poor. The whole country had evidently at one time been under cultiva- tion, but in much of it the plough had long ceased from labour, and the forest had already resumed its ancient rights. The M^eather added to the bleakness of the landscape, and though the coach crept on with the velo- city of a tortoise, it was not till long .after dark that we reached liristol. Here we took boat again, and our troubles were at an end. A plentiful dinner contributed to beguile the distance, and the city clocks Avere in the act of chiming ten as we landed on the quay of Phila- delphia. Having procured a coach, I drove to Head's hotel, 192 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF PHILADELPHIA. which had been recommended to me as one of the best houses in the Union. Here I could only procure a small and nasty bed-room, lighted by a few panes of glass fixed in the wall, some eight or ten feet from the floor. On the following morning, therefore, I removed to the United States Hotel, where I found the accommodation excellent. My letters of introduction were then dis- patched, with the result which ray experience of Ame- rican kindness had led me to anticipate. Philadelphia stands on an isthmus about two miles wide, between the Delaware and the Schuylkill. Below the city, both rivers are navigable for vessels of any class, but the severity of the winter climate generally causes an interruption to the communication with the sea, of considerable duration. As a great seat of commerce the advantage ia altogether on the side of New York. Phi- ladelphia has but trifling extent of river communication with the interior. The Delaware is navigable only for about thirty miles above the city, and the Schuylkill is too full of shoals and rapids to bo practicable for any thing but small craft. To remedy this inconvenience there are several canals, and others are in progress, which must contribute largely to the prosperity of the State. There is nothing striking in the appearance of Phila- delphia when seen from the river. It stands on a flat surface, and presents no single object of beauty or gran- deur to arrest the attention. Spires may be monsters in architecture, but they are beautiful monsters, and the eye feels a sad want of them, as it wanders over the unvaried extent of dull uniform building presented by Philadelphia. When one enters the city the scene is certainly improved, but not much. The streets are rather respectable than handsome, but there is every where so much appearance of real comfort, that the traveller is at first delighted with this Quaker paradise. He looks from the carriage windows prepared to see every thing couleur ms^' PUBLIC BUILDINGS. 193 de rose. The vehicle rolls on ; he praises the cleanness and neatness of the houses, and every street that pre- sents itself seems an exact copy of those which he has left behind. In short, before he has (^^ot through half the city, he fe3ls an unusual tendency to relaxation about the region of the mouth, which ultimately terminates in a silent but prolonged ya^vn. Philadelphia is mediocrity personified in brick and mortar. It is a city laid down by a square and rule, a sort of habitable problem — a mathematical infringement on the rights of individual eccentricity — a rigid and pro- saic despotism of right angles and parallelograms. It may emphatically be called a comfortable city ; that is, the houses average better than in any other with which I am acquainted. You here see no miserable and - Ithy streets, the refuge of squalid poverty, forming a contrast to the splendour of squares and crescents. No Dutch town can be cleaner, and the marble stairs and window- sills of the better houses, give an agreeable relief to the red I rick of which they are constructed. The public buildings are certainly superior to any I have yet seen in America. Some of the churches are handsome, and the United States Bank, with its marble portico of Grecian Doric, gives evidence, I trust, of an improving taste. I confess, however, that my hopes on this matter arc not very sanguine. Even persons of information are evidently unable to appreciate the true merit of the building or the architect, and connect ridi- cule with both, by declaring the former to be " the finest building in the world!*' Is a poor traveller in the United States, when continually beset by such tempta- tion, to be held utterly inexcusable, if he sometimes venture to indulge in a sneer ? The Bank of Pennsylvania is another structure en- titled to applause. Its front presents a flight of steps sustaining an Ionic portico of six columns, with an enta- blature and pediment. The banking-house of Mr Girard N 194 WATERWORKS. — the Coutts of the Union — is likewise handsome. Like the two buildings I have already mentioned its whole front is of marble, but in taste it is far less chaste, and presents more faults than I have time or inclination to enumerate. There are likewise two buildings of some pretension, in the Gothic style. Both are contemptible. The State- House, from which issued the Declaration of American Independence, is yet standing. It is built of brick, and consists of a centre and two wings, with- out ornament of any sort. There is something appro- priate, and even imposing in its very plainness. Above is a small cupola with a clock, which at night is illumi- nated by gas. The Philadelphians, however, pride themselves far more on their waterworks than on their Stato-House. Their lo Pecans on account of the fonaer, a. o loud and unceasing, and I must say, the annoyance vhich these occasion to a traveller, is very considerable. A dozen times a-day was I asked whether I had seen the water- works, and on my answering in the negative, I was told that I positively must visit them ; that they were unri- valled in the world ; that no people but the Americans could have executed such works, and by implication, that no one but an Englishman, meanly jealous of Ame- rican superiority, would omit an opportunity of admiring their unrivalled mechanism. There is no accounting for the eccentricities of humim character. I had not heard these circumstances repeated above fifty times, ere I began to run restive, and deter- mined not to visit the waterworks at all. To this reso- lution I adhered, in spite of all annoyance, with a ])erti- nacity worthy of a better cause. Of the waterworks of Philadelphia, therefore, I know nothing, and any reader particularly solicitous to become acquainted with the priiciple of this remarkable piece of machinery, must conjjult the pages of other travellers. I had the honour of being present at an annual cele- w PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY — WISTAR PARTIES. 195 iiko lole land to lome lible. Itlon )uilt rith- bration of the A nerican Philosophical Society. About a hundred members sat down to a most excellent supper, and the wine and punch were equally unimpeachable. The President, Mr Du Ponceau, then made a speech, in which he gave a very interesting account of the rise and progress of the Society to its present flourishing condition. It was originally established by Franklin, and a few of his fellow-tradesmen, who met in some back-room of an obscure tavern, and having supped on bread and cheese, enjoyed the feast of reason over a pot of London Particular. The Society now includes in its members ail that America can boast of eminence in literature or science. On the following evening, I passed an hour or two very agreeably at one of a series of meetings, which are called "Wistar Parties," from the name of the gentleman at whose house they were first held. Their effect and influence on society must be very salutary. These par- ties bring together men of dift'eront classes and pursuits, and promote the free interchange of opinion, always useful for the correction of prejudice. Such intercourse, too, prevents the narrowness of thought, and exagge- rated estimate of the value of our own peculiar acquire- ments, which devotion to one exclusive object is apt to engender in those who do not mix freely with the world. These meetings are held by rotation at the houses of the difterent members. The conversation is generally literary or scientific, and as the party is usually very large, it can be varied at pleasure. Philosophers eat like other men, and the precaution of an excellent sup- per is by no means found to be superfluous. It acts, too, as a gentle emollient on the acrimony of debate. No man can say a harsh thing with his mouth full of turkey, and disputants forget their differences in unity of enjoy- ment. At these parties I met several ingenious men of a class something below that of the ordinary members. I 190 PECULIARITIES OF PHILADELPHIA. i .n When an operative meclip.iic attracts notice by his zeal for improvement in any branch of science, he is almost uniformly invited to the Wistar meetings. The advan- tage of this policy is obviously very great. A modest and deserving man is brought into notice. His errors are corrected, his ardour is stimulated, his taste improved. A healthy connexion is kept up between the different classes of society, and the feeling of mutual sympathy is duly cherished. During my stay in Philadelphia I was present at several of those Wistar meetings, and alwavs returned from them with increased conviction of tlieir beneficial tendency. Most of the great American cities have a peculiar character — a sort of civic idiosyncrasy, which distin- guishes their population even to the eye of an unpractised observer. There is no mistaking that of Philadelphia ; it is Quaker all over. All things, animate and inani- mate, seem influenced by a spirit of quietism as pervading as the atmosphere. The manners of the higher orders are somewhat more reserved than in other parts of the Union, and I must say that all ranks are particularly free from the besetting sin of curiosity. Fortunately for travellers, it is not here considered essential that they should disclose every circumstance connected with their past life and opinions. Philadelphia is par excellence a city of mediocrity. Its character is republican, not democratic. One can read the politics of its inhabitants in the very aspect of the streets. A coarse and vulgar demagogue would have no chance among a people so palpably observant of the proprieties, both moral and political. The Phila- delphians are no traflSckers in extremes of any sort, and were I to form my opinion of a government, from the impression made by its policy on some particular district of the Union, I should certainly take this enlightened and respp' "able city as the guide and standard of my creed. The chief defect of Pliiladelphia is want of variety. PECULIARITIES OF PHIL.VDELPIIIA. 197 It is just such a city as a young lady would cut out of a thread paper, — street answers street, each alloy has a brother. And half the city just reflects the other. Something is certainly -wanted to relieve that unbro- ken uniformity, which tires the eye and stupifies the imagination. One would give the world for something to admire or to condenni, and would absolutely rejoice, for the mere sake of variety, to encounter a row of log huts, or get innnersed in a congress of dark and pic- turesque closes, such as delight all travellers — without noses — in the old town of Edinburgh. The Utilitarian principle is observed, ven in the nomenclature of the streets. Those running in one direction are denoted by the name of some particular tree — such as vine, cedar, chestnut, spruce, &c. The cross-streets are distinguished by numbers, so that a stranger has no difficulty in finding his way, since the name of the street indicates its situation. Market Street is the great thoroughfare of the city, and stretches from one river to the other, an extent of several miles. The streets are generally skirted by rows of Lombardy poplars, for what reason I know not. They certainly give no shade, and possess no beauty. Notwithstanding the attractions of Philadelphia, it was not my intention to have remained there longer than a week ; but while engaged in preparation for departure, a deep fall of snoAv came on, and the commu- nications of the city were at once cut off. A week passed without intelligence from the northward, and even the southern mails were several days in arrear. The snow lay deep on the streets, and wheeled carriages were of necessity exchanged for sledges, or, as they are usually called, sleighs. Of course, it would have been absurd for a traveller, with no motive for expedition, to commence a journey under such circumstances, and I determined to prolong my stay until the roads should f I 198 THE PENITENTIARY — I 1)0 reported in such coiulitlon .as to tlireateu no risk of detention in my route to Baltimore. Durinijf tliis interval I visited tli.^ Penitentiary. It stands about two miles from tlu? eity, but owing to tl'.o depth of snow, the sU'igh eould not aj)proa('h within a considerable distance of the buildiuu', and tlu^ pedestrian part of the excursion ])resente(l much ditHculty. A thin icy crust had formed over the surface of the snow, which often ifavo way beneath the foot, and more than oncio I was innnersed to the shouhU'rs. I did, however, rc^ach the l*enitentiary at last. It is a square granite building of great extent, with a tower at each angle, and the walls enclose a sj)acc of ten acres. In the centre of the area stands an observatory, from which it is intended that seven corridors shall radiate, but throe only have been yet completed. The cells are arranged on either side of these corridors, with which they connnunicate by a s(iuare aperture, which may be opened at ])leasure from without. There is likewise a small eyehole, connnanding a complete view of the cell, cand attached to each is a walled court, in which the prisoner may ta' e exercise. The only entrance to the cells lies through these court-yards. The system pursued in this institution is entirely dif- ferent from that which, in a former part of this volume, I have had occasioii to describe. No punishment is permitted within its walls but that of solitary confine- ment. Nothing is left to the discretion of the jailor, or his assistants, and all risk of abuse is thus obviated. I cannot but consider this as an inestimable advantage. If discretionary power bo confessedly dangerous when exercised by a judge in open court, under the strong check of public opinion, what are we to say of it when confided to a jailer, and exorcised without responsibility of any sort, amid the secrecy of his prison-house ? The warder of the establishment struck me as a per- son of much enthusiasm and benevolence. He evidently SYSTEM OF SOLITARY CONFINEMENT. 199 risk of irv. It to the ivitliin a Icstriaii A thin ■, which oiico I took ploasuro in afloivling (^vory information in regard to the practical ojjcration of tho system, tlumgh its intro- duction is too rec(!nt to atford room for any conclusive appeal to experience. The punishment oriraise too highly that active benevolence which in America takes so deep an interest in the reformation of the objects of punishment. In their ameliorations of ])rison discipline, the people of this country have unquestionably taken the lead of Eui-oy e. In old established communities the j)rogress of improvement is necessarily slow, and there are diffi- culties to be overcome which are fortunately unknown on this side of the Atlantic. Let the Americans, there- iore, continue as they have begini, to lead the way in thio important department of practical philanthrojjy. By doing so, they will earn a distinction for their country more honourable than could losult from the highest emi- nence in arts, or achievements in arms. i d if 55?r./ 204 UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA — I Of all the American colleges beyond the limits of New England, that of Pennsylvania is perhaps the most distinguished. Its medical school is decidedly so, and an Esculapian armed with a Philadelphia diploma, is held to commit slaughter on his fellow-creatures accord- ing to the most approved principles of modern science. Till within a few years, however, the scientific and literary departments of this institution had fallen into comparative neglect. But a revolution in an American college is an easier affair than the introduction of the most trifling change in such establishments as those of Oxford or Cambridge. The statutes were revised by a board of trustees appointed for the purpose. The system of education was corrected and enlarged, and men of competent talent and acquirements were invited to pre- side over the various departments of instruction. A now edifice was erected, and an extensive addition made to the former beggarly account of philosophical apparatus. The natural consequences followed. The number of students was considerably increased, ind the benefits of the institution were augmented not only in magnitude, but in extent of diffusion. In this estabUshment there is no discretion permitted in regard to the course of study to be followed by the student. Every one is compelled to travel in the same track, and t '■> reach the same point, whatever may bo his future destination in life. It is perhaps quite right that such portions of a university course should be considered imperative, as relate to the preparatory development of the intellectual powers, but it does appear somewhat absurd to insist on cramming every boy with mathema- tics, chemistry, and natural philosophy. In America, the period devoted to education is so short, that there can be no folly greater than that of frittering it away in a variety of pursuits, which contribute little to the gene- ral elevation of the intellect. It is the certain result of attempting too much, that nothing will be accomplished. limits of the most so, and >loma, is s accord- science, tifie and lien into American n of the those of isod by a 10 system men of d to prc- A now made to pparatus. ^mbcr of tenofits of agnitudo, permitted }d by the the same lav be his right that onsidercd )pment of somewhat tnathcma- America, hat there t away in the gene- result of mplishcd. W!Wf,'f ITS SYSTEM OF EDUCATION. 205 With such a system of education the standard of acquire- ment must of necessity be greatly lower than in other countries, where excellence in some one department constitutes the great object of individual ambition. The truth of this position is in perfect accordance with the state of knowledge in America. In illustration of it, I shall direct the attention of the reader to an extract from the report of the Board of Trustees of this very Univer- sity of Pennsylvania. Alluding to the prescribed course of education, these gentlemen assure the public, that " Its object is to communicate a profound and critical knowledge of the classics ; an extensive acquaintance with the different branches of mathematical science, natural philosophy, and chemistry, combined with all the varieties of knowledge comprehended Avithin the sphere of moral philosophy, logl^, rhetoric, metaphysics, and the evidences of Christianity. This course of instruction will occupy FOUR YEARS V* Had the number of years to be devoted to the acqui- sition of this vast mass of knowledge T)een forty instead of four, the promise of the Board of Trustees might still have been objectionable on the score of hyi)erbole. In Europe no body of gentlemen connected with any public seminary would have dared to venture on such a state- ment. Respect for their own character, and the certainty of ridicule, would have prevented it. But in America it is different. The standard of knowledge being there infinitely lower, the Trustees promised nothing more than they might reasonably hope to accomplish. On the western shores of the Atlantic, a young man is believed to have " a profound and critical knowledge of the classics," when he can manage to construe a passage of Ca3sar or Virgil, and — by the help of the lexicon — haply of Xenophon or Anacreon. And so with the other branches of acquirement. In mathematics, it is scarcely meant to be implied that the student shall have mastered the works of La Grange or La Place; nor in meta- 206 BEMARKS ON EDUCATION. physics, that he shall even understand the philosophy of Kant or Cousin, but simply that he shall have acquired enough to constitute, in the eyes of the American public, *' an extensive acquaintance with the different branches of mathematical science, combined with all the varieties of knowledge comprehended within the sphere of moral philosophy, logic, rhetoric, and metaphysics." It thus appears that what in one country would he nothing bettor than impudent quackery, becomes the lan- guage of sober truth in another. The same terms carry different meanings on different sides of the water, and the cause of the discrepancy is too obvious to be mis- taken. Having alluded to this subject, I would willing- ly be permitted to offer a few observations on the inte- resting question — How far the condition of society in the United States, and the influence of its institutions, are favourable, or otherwise, to the cultivation of philo- sophy and the higher literature ? The termination of the revolutionary war left the United States with a population graduating in civiliza- tion from slaves to planters. The scale went low enough, but unfortunately not very high. The great mass of the white population, especially in the Northern States, were by no means deficient in such education as was suited to their circumstances. In a country to which abject poverty was happily a stranger, there existed few obstacles to the general diffusion of elementary instruc- tion. But between the amount of acquirement of the richer and the poorer orders, little disparity existed. Where the necessity of labour was imposed on all, it was not probable that any demand should exist for learning not immediately connected with the busi- ness of life. To the grower of indigo or tobacco, to the feller of timber, or the retailer of cutlery and dry goods, the refinements of literature were necessarily un- known. In her whole population America did not num- ber a single scholar, in the higher acceptation of the STATE OF LIT£RATURE. 207 term ; and had every book in her whole ten'itory Leen contributed to form a national library, it would not have afforded the materials from which a scholar could be framed. It is true, that in several of the States there existed colleges, but these were little better than schools with- out the necessary discipline ; and had their pretensions been greater, it is very certain that such poor and dis- tant establishments could offer no inducement to foreign- ers of high acquirement to exchange " the ampler ether, the diviner air," of their native universities, for the atmosphere of Yale or Harvard. At all events the Ame- ricans had no desire to draw our men of letters from their learned retreats. In the condition of society I have described, it was impossible that learning should engross any portion of the public favour. Even to the present day, the value of education in the United States is estimated, not by its result on the mind of the student, in strengthening his faculties, purifying his taste, and enlarging and elevating the sphere of thought and con- sciousness, but hy the amount of available knowledge which it enables him to bring to the common business of life. The consequences of this error, when participated in by a whole nation, have been most pernicious. It has unques- tionably contributed to perpetuate the very ignorance in which it originated. It has done its part, in connexion with other causes, in depriving the United States of the most enduring source of national greatness. Nor can we hope that the evil will be removed, until the vulgar and unworthy sophistry which has imposed on the judg- ment, even of the most intelligent Americans, shall cease to influence some wiser and unborn generation. The education of the clergy difiered in little from that of laymen. Of theological learning there was none, nor did there exist the means of acquiring it. It is probable, that within the limits of the United States, 208 EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY. there was not to be found a single copy of the works of the Fathers. But this mattered not. Protestantism is never very amenable to autliority, and least of all when combined with democracy. Neither the pastors nor their flocks Avere inclined to attach much value to primitive authority, and from the solid rock of the Scriptures, each man was pleased to hew out his own religion, in such form and proportions as wore suited to the measure of his taste and knowledge. It was considered enough that tlie clergy could read the Bible in their vernacular tongue, and expound its doctrines to the satisfaction of a congregation, not more learned than themselves. To the present day, in one only of the colleges has any provision been made for clerical education. Many of the religious sects, howev(?r, have established theologi- cal academies, in which candidates for tlie ministry may, doubtless, acquire such accomplishment as is deemed necessary for the satisfactory discharge of their high function.* In short, the st e of American society is such as to afford no leisure foi any thing so umnarketablo as abstract knowledge. For the pursuit of such studies, it is neces- sary that the proficient should " fit audience find though few." He must be able to calculate on s}Tnpathy at • The American Almanac for 1831 contains a list of all the theologi- cal establishments in the United State, with the number of students at each seminary, and of the volumes contained in its library. Accord- ing to this document, the whole number of theological students is 657. The combined aggregate of volumes in possession of all the institutions is 43,450. The best furnished library in the list is that of the theo- logical department of Yale College, which contains 8000 volumes. None of the others approach nearly to this amount. The institution of New Hampton possesses only 100 volumes, and is attended by fourteen students. Calculating each book to consist, on the average, of three volumes, the New Hampton library contains thirt;/. three wor^a on theo- logy. But this is not all. Seven of these establishments possess no libraries at all, so that the learning of the students must come by inspi« ration. Until the year 1808, no seminaries for religious instruction appear to have existed in the United States. One was founded In thtit year, another in 1812, but the great majority are of far more recent origin. OPINIONS OF JEFFERSON. 209 least, if not encouragement, and assuredly he would find neither in the United States. Whatever were the defects of Jefferson, he seems to have been impressed with a deep consciousness of the deficiencies of his countrymen. lie saw that the ele- ments of knowledge were difi'used every where, but that all its higher fruits were wanting. lie endeavoured, not only to rouse his countrymen to a sense of their intellectua.1 condition, but to provide the means by which it might be im]»roved. With this view he founded a university in his native state, and his last worldly anxie- ties were devoted to its advancement. Jefferson felt strongly, that while pliilosophy and literature were excluded from the fair objects of professional ambition, and the United States continued to be dependent for all advances in knowledge on importations from Europe, she was wanting in the noblest element of national great- ness. Though the commerce of mind be regulated by loftier principles than mere vulgar traffic, it should con- sist, unquestionably, of exchange of some kind. To receive, and not to give, is to subsist on charity ; to be a mute and changeling in the great family of nations. The obstacles to success, however, were too great for the powers of Jefferson to overcome. In a community where the gradations of opulence constitute the great distinction between man and man, the pursuits which lead most readily to its attainment will certainly engross the whole volume of national talent. In England there are various coexistent aristocracies which act as mutual correctives, and by multiplying the objects of ambition, give amplitude and diffusion to its efforts. In America there exists but one, and the impulse it awakens is, of course, violent in p: oportion to its concentration. Jef- ferson, therefore, failed in this great object, towards the accomplishment of which his anxious efforts were direct- ed. As a politician, he exercised a far greater influence over the national mind than any other statesman his o imv 210 CONDITION OF AMERICAN SOCIETY ■i I! country has produced. But in his endeavours to direct the intellectual impulses of his countrymen towards loftier objects, the very structure of society presented an insu- perable barrier to success. I am aware, it will be urged, that the state of things I have described is merely transient, and that when population shall become more dense, and increased com- petition shall render commerce and agriculture lesit lucra- tive, the pursuits of science and literature vdll engross their due portion of the national talent. I hope it may be so, but yet it cannot be disguised, that there hitherto has been no visibly approximation towards such a con- dition of society. In the present generation of Ameri- cans, I can detect no symptom of improving taste, or increasing elevation of intellect. On the contrary, the fact has been irresistibly forced on my conviction, that they are altogether inferior to those, whose place, in the course of nature, they are soon destined to occupy. Com- pared with their fathers, I have no hesitation in pro- nouncing the younger portion of the richer classes to be less liberal, less enlightened, less observant of the pro- prieties of life, and certainly far less pleasing in manner and deportment. In England every new generation starts forward into life with advantages far superior to its predecessor. Each successive crop — if I may so write — of legislators, is marked by increase of knowledge and enlargem/'iit of thought. The standard of acquirement necessary to attain distinction in \ ablic life, is now confessedly higher than it was thirty years ago. The intellectual currency of the country, instead of being depreciated, has advanced in value, while the issue has been prodigiously enlarged. True, there are no giants in our days, but this may be in part at least accounted for, by a general increase of stature in the people. We have gained at least an inch upon our fathers, and have the gratifying prospect of appearing diminutive when compared with our children. UNFAVOURABLE TO LITERATURE. 211 But if this bo so in America, I confess my observation is at fault. I can discern no prospect of her soon becoming a mental benefactor to the world. Elementary instruc- tion, it is true, has generally kept pace with the rapid progress of population ; but while the steps of youth are studiously directed to the base of the mountain of know- ledge, no facilities have been provided for scaling its summit. There is at this moment nothing in the United States worthy of the name of a library. Not only is there an entire absence of learning, in the higher sense of the term, but an absolute want of the material from which alone learning can be extracted. At present an American might study every book within the Ihuits of the Union, and still be regarded in many parts of Europe — especially in Germany — as a man comparatively igno- rant. And why does a great nation thus voluntarily continue in a state of intellectual destitution so anoma- lous and humiliating ? There are libraries to be sold in Europe. Books might be imported in millions. Is it poverty, or is it ignorance of their value, that withholds America from the purchase? * I should be most happy to believe the former. In one point of view at least, the strong — and I fear not to say, the insuperable prejudice against the claims of primogeniture, is unfavourable to national advance- ment. It must continue to prevent any large accumu- lations of individual wealth, and the formation of a class which might aftbrd encouragement to those branches of science and literature, which cannot be expected from • The value of books imported from Europe during the year 1829-30 for public institutions, amounted only to 10,829 doMars ! Even of this wretched sum, I am assured the greater part was expended in works stricUy new. Of the old treasures of learning, America seems content to remaia destitute. In regard to science, it is a fact scarcely credible, that the second maritime power in the world does not at the present moment possess a single astronomical observatory, and is dependent on France and England for the calculations of an ephomeris by which her ships may be enabled in tolerable safety to navigate the ocean I i pifi' m 212 INFLUENCE OF THE GOVERNMENT ! i their very nature to become generally popular. Nor is it likely that he impediments to which I have alluded, will be at all diminished by the character of the govern- ment, on which I shall hazard a few observations. When we speak of a government being popular or otherwise, we mean that it is more or less influenced by the prevailing currents of opinion and feeling in those subjected to its action. A highly popular government, therefore, can neither be in advance of the average in- telligence of a people, nor can it lag behind it. It is, and must be, the mere reflex of the public mind in all its strength and weakness ; the representative not only of its higher qualities and virtues, but of all the errors, follies, passions, prejudices, and ignorances by which it is debased, Ii is in vain, therefore, to expect from such a govern- ment any separate and independent action. It cannot react upon, it is merely co-operative with, the people. It embodies no self-existent or countervailing influence. It is only when it ceases to be expressly representative, and stands on a flrmer basis than mere popular favour, that a government can acquire a positive and deter- minate character, and be recognised as an influence dis- tinct from that of national opinion. Neither in the American legislative or executive, is there any thing of this latter character discernible. The institutions of the United States afford the purest speci- men the world has yet seen, of a representative govern- ment — of an executive, whose duties are those of mere passive agency — of a legislative, which serves but as the vocal organ of the sole and real dictator, the people. Into whatever speculations therefore we may be induced to enter, either with regard to the present condition or future prospects of the United States, it would be mere folly to attribute influence of any kind to a govern- ment which, in truth, is nothing more than a mere reci- pient of popular impulse. t i Nor Is alluded, govoni- ns. )ular or encod by in those eminent, 'go in- t. It is, id in all not only le errors, which it govorn- t cannot people, pfluence. entative, r favour, d deter- 2nce dis- jutive, is •le. The (st speci- govern- of mere ut as the people, induced ondition 'ould be govern- 3re reci- IN REGARD TO LITERATURE. 213 To an American of talent, there exist no objects to stimulate political ambition, save the higher offices of the Federal Government, or of the individual States. The latter, indeed, are chiefly valued for the increased faci- lities they afford for the attainment of the former : but to either, the only passport is popular favour. Acquire- ments of any sort, therefore, which the great mass of the people do not value, or are incapable of appreciating, are of no practical ad\ antage, for they bring with them neither fame, nor more substantial reward. But this is understating the case. Such knowledge, if displayed at all, would not merely be a dead letter in the qualifica- tions of a candidate for political power, it would oppose a deci14 AHSTllACTKNOWLKIMn': NOT KN(JOIIIIAOKI). injjf it a]>p('i'inMl to excite. The tnitli T tiikt^ io he, tliut ill tlieir juiliticiil re|»ie,seiitiitiv(vs, tlie people (leiiiiind ju^t so nmeli knowledirc'.'ind iu'coiiiplislmient iis tliey eoiieeive to be pnu'ticiilly Jiviiiliihhf tor the proniotloii of their own ititerests. This, in their o|(iiiion, iseiiou^di. More •were hut to ^'lld retiiied uoid, and |iaiiit the Illy, o|M'iii tiotis which eouhl iid sJi()rt-sight(Ml, as that which would limit the ex])enditure of mind ; and assu- redly the condition of society cannot be desirable;, in which great qualities of every soi-t do not find efficient excitement any otlicrM iiior«! fiiivoiiial)!^ to tlic cnlHvatioti of Icarriint,', I prcHUiiM' jiot to predict. There is certainly no delieiency ol" talent in tin; Hnited States ; no deficiency <»!' men, stonid evciii to ahundanco with knowled^r,,^ practically a|»plical>l(! to tlic! palpahio and ^'ros,s<'r wantn of tlieir countrymen. Hut of those hi^dier hranclu!.* of ac(|uirement, \vlii<'h profess not to minister to mer*; vidj^ar necessities, or to enlarj^'o the sphere of physical enjoymt'iit, and of which the oidy result is the elevation of th(5 intellect, I fear it nnist bo acknowledged she has not yet been taii^dit even to appre- ciate the value. ClIAI'TKR XI. I'irir.ADKi.riiiA. TllK Unite(' of havln_i>f tho hiry exc'ess of (iemoeriicy defeats its(»lf. In son.i? States the judges are; so inordi- nately underpaid, that no lawyer, who does not jiossesa a considerable ])rivate fortune, enu afford to accept tlio oHici', From this circumstan(!e something of aristocratic distinction has becfome connected with it, anrs with whoin T liave conversed agre(% tliat the discrepancy betw(>en the laws of the diilerent States is j)roductive of nnich injury. The statutes of one State ar(! often defeated in the tribunals of another, wlien not in a(!cordan<'(; with th(i tone of ])ublic opinion in the lattcu*. A laxity thus arises in the administration of nuniicipal law incouipatible with good government. The criminal codes are likewise' hignly discor|)ulence, Philadelphia is undoubtedly the first city of the Union. It is the gicj'-t focus of Ameri- can cajjital, the jxicuniary reservoir which fills the vari- ous channels of prolitable enterprise. In Philadelphia it is the fashion to be S(!ientific, and the young ladies occasionally display the has bhiu, in a degree which in other cities would be considered rather alarming. I remendxir at a dinner p.'irty, being instruct- ed as to the component parts of the atinospheie f)y a fair sjjinster, who anticipated the approach of a period when oxygen would supersede chami)agne, and young gentlemen and ladies would hob or nob in gas. The vulgar term drunk would then give place to inflated, certainly more euphonious to ears polite, and the coarser li goo SOCIETY IN PIIILAnKLI'llIA. stinitil.'infs, .sucli as nlcnliol and tobacco, in all tlicir forms and uses, 1>(> ivyardcd Avith ('ontcnipt. TluM'c is no Ani(>iican city in wlii<'h tlio systoni of exchmon is so riiyidly observed as in IMiiludc'Ipln'a. Tin; ascent of a. fmrrcnn into the aristocratic; circle is slow and dillicult. Tlicrc is a sort of lioly alliance! hetwccii its nienibers to forbid all nnantliori/ed a|)|)roaly no settled and j»erman(Mit body of ksading capitalists, and conseepiently less room for that sort of defensive' le'ague which naturally takes place among men of connnon inteM-e'sts and |)e)sition in society. In Philadelphia, on the other hand, the pursuits of JOHEPII IJONAPARTE. 223 commcrco nro ronfincd witliiii niirrovvjir limits. Tlicro is no fii'ld fur Hperulfitioii on si great sc-alc, .'itid tlio regular trad*; of the placo i.s (MigroHsocl by old-(;Mtjd;li,slu!ro enterprising tntders, tli(^rer«)re, generally remove to New York, and Pliilad(!l|>liia continues comparatively un- troubled by tliose tluctuati(»ns of wealtli, wliich imp(Mlo any permanent and ell'ective union among its aristo(!racy. In society in I*liiladel|»liiii, I had tlu; good fortune to meet the ('ount de SurviHie'rs, better known l)y the untitled name of Joseph I>ona|iarte. I'his pisrsonago has purchased an estate in the neighbourhood, and by his sim])li(!ity and bencsvolenc*! of character, has su(!ceeded in winning golden opinions from all classes of Americans. He often visits IMiiladelphia, and minghis a good deal in the society of tluj place. In the party where I first met him, a con.siderabh.' time elapsed before I was aware of th(! presenc(! of a jx-rson so remarkable. He was at length pointed out to my o})servation, with an oflijr of introduction which I thought prop(;r to dec^liiK; ; being aware, that in a work with wliich he was probably un- acquainted, I had spoken of him in a manner, which, whetlKT just or otherwise, made it indelicate that I should b(; obtruded on his notice. Joseph IJonaparte, in [»erH(»n, is about the middle height, but round and corpulent. In the form of his head and features then; certaiidy (sxists a rescnnblance to Napoleon, but in the e,\|)r(!ssion of the coinitenaneo there is none. I remember, at the P(!i'gola theatre of Florence, discovering Louis Bonaparte fronj, his likeness to the Emperor, which is very striking, but I am by no means (iontident that I should hav(; been e(jually suc- cessful with Joseph. There is nothing about him indi- cative of high intellect. His eye is dull and heavy ; his manner ungraceful, and deficient in that ease and f . ;■ 224 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. dignity which we vulgar people are apt to nunihor among the necessary attributes of majesty. But Joseph was not bred to kingcraft, and seems to have been forced into it rather as a sort of political stop-gap, than from any particular aptitude or inclination for the duties of sove- reignty. I am told he converses without any appearance of reserve on the circumstances of his short and troubled reign — if reign, indeed, it can be called — in Spain. He attributes more than half his misfortunes to the jealou- sies and intrigues of the unruly marshals, over whom he could exercise no authority. lie admits the full extent of his unpopularity, but claims credit for a sincere desire to benefit the people. One circumstance connected with his deportment I particularly remember. The apartment was warm, and the ex-king evidently felt it so ; for taking out his pocket- handkerchief, he deliberately mopi)ed his bald " dis- crowned head" with a hand which one would certainly have guessed to have had more connexion with a spit than a sceptre. I remained a fortnight waiting for a change of weather, but it never came. The roads, however, had become quite practicable for travelling, and I at length deter- mined on departure. At five o'clock in the morning I accordingly drove to Market Street, where I took pos- session of a place in a sleigh shaped like an omnibus, which contained accommodation for about as many pas- sengers. The snow lay deep on the ground, and the weather was cold in the extreme. After some delay the vehicle got into motion, and when we reached the Schuylkill, which is crossed by a wooden bridge of very curious mechanism, I looked back on the Quaker city, yet glimmering in the distance, and bade farewell to it for ever. JOURNEY TO BALTIMORE — SUSQUEHANNA. 225 CHAPTER XII. JOURNEY DALTIMOBE WASHIHOTOR. The niail-sloi^h in wliicli I found myself a passenger, was one of tlie most wretclied veliicles imaginable. The wind — a north -wester — penetrated the eurtains of the maeliine at a thousand crevices, and, charged with par- ticles of snow so tine as to he almost impalpable, com- municated to the faces of the passengers the sensation of suffering under a hurricane of needles. Our route lay- through a country flat and uninteresting, which ])re- scnted no object to arrest tlie attention of a traveller. We breakfasted at a wretched cabaret, and the preten- sions of the dinner-house were not much greater. The fare, however, though coarse, was abundant ; and, pro- ceeding on our journey about six o'clock, we reached Lancaster, a town of some note, and famous for its ma- nufacture of rifles. After an hour's halt, we again started in a sort of covered sledge-waggon, and the number of passengers being reduced to myself, my servant, and a Hungarian pedlar, we without ceremony ensconced our- selves among the straw in the l^ottom of the cart. This j)art of the journey was comparatively comfort- able. I had passed the night before leaving Philadel- phia in Avriting, and " tired nature's kind restorer" now visited my eyelids veiy pleasantly. The rumbling of the waggon on the vast wooden bridge Avhich crosses the Suscpiehanna, at length broke my slumber. I rose to gaze on the scenery, which showed finely in the moon- light. There wei'e rocks, and giant trees, and a frozen river, and the thought of Wyoming lent a charm to them all. In a few minutes, however, the Susquehanna was no longer visible ; and, resuming my former position, I again became as hajjpy as an oblivion of all earthly cares could make me. p 'lb !5 I I a 226 MODE OF LIVING IN AMERICA. How long I enjoyed this liappinoss I know not, but it was at length eti'ectually dissipated by a most unj)loa- sant disturbance. The waggon had stopped, and the rascal of a pedlar, in scrambling out of the machine, chose to plant his great hobnailed foot on the pit of my stomach. My first confused impressicm was, that I had been crushed to death by the wheel of the Newcastle waggon, or the great elephant in Exeter 'Change, liut by degrees the truth dawned on my bewiUlered intellect; and though not, I trust, much given to swearing, I con- fess I did indulge in a profane objurgation at findinj,' myself thus unceremoniously converted into the foot- stool of a Magyar pedlar. Even to my own percei)tions at the moment, however, there was something laughable in the whole afi'air. To be stretched alongside my servant in straw on the bottom of a cart, and in such jiickle to be trampled on by a common liawker of thimbles and pocket-handkerchiefs! But travelling in America is like misery, for it occa- sionally brings a man accpiainted with strange bedfellows. I had already found, that in travelling, it was ini])os- sible to adhere to those conventional regulations in regard to servants which in England are held to be in- violable. It is the invariable custom in this country for all the passengers of a stage-coach to eat at the same table, and the time allowed for meals is so short, that unless John dines with his master, the chances are that he goes without dinner altogether. I had already learned that, in the liiited States, no man can put for- ward pretensions to superiority of any kihd, without exciting unpleasant observation. A traveller, to get on comfortably, nmst take things as he finds them, assume nothing, and get rid as soon as possible of all superfluous refiinement. He must often associate with men, whoso companionship he cannot but feel carries with it some- thing of degradation. Yet a person of true breeding will rarely be treated with disrespect. He will receive YORK — AMERICAN SLEIGH. 227 tribute without exacting it, and even in this democratic country, may safely leave it " to men's opinion, to toll the world he is a gentleman." The day's journey terminated at York, where, aft(!r all its annoyances and fatigues, I found efficacious re- storatives in an excellent supper and comfortable bed. In America, a traveller's sufferings are rarely connected with the table. Go where he may, he finds abundance of good and wholesome food. To be sure, if the devil send cooks to any part of the world, it is to the United States, for in that country it is a rare thing to meet any dish dressed just as it ought to be. No attention is paid to the preserving of moat, which is generally trans- ferred direct from the shambles to the spit. Then the national propensity for grease is inordinate. It enters largely into the com])osition of every dish, and consti- tutes the sole ingredient of many. The very bread is generally not only impregnated with some unctuous substance, but when sent up to the breakfast table, is seen to float in a menstruum of oleaginous matter. But with all this, a traveller — not a " > cry particuhu' gentle- man" — will have very little cause of complaint. At dinner he will generally find ham, turkey, and a joint of some kind ; and if with such materials he cannot con- trive to make a tolerable meal, it is pretty evident that he has mistaken his vocation, and should limit his jour- neys to an annual migration between Pall- Mall and the Palais Royal. In the morning we left York. Inured as I had been, on the present journey, to what appeared the most wretched vehicles on earth, I soon discovered in the one in which I now embarked, an illustration of the adage, that in every depth there is a deeper still. Our sleigh was a machine apparently got up for the nonce, and consisted merely of rough boards nailed together in the form of an oblong box, with a drapery and roof of common calico. There were narrow cross boards for I u I' 1 i ! if' ■f ' ■ .; I !! M 228 ARRIVAL AT BALTIMORE. seats, on wliich the passengers — six in number — were compelled to sit bolt ui)rioht without support of any kind. This was not comfortable, but the snow was smooth and tirm, and we rattled on very fast and very smoothly, and soon after nightfall I found myself in Baltimore. Before leaving Philadelphia, I had written to a fellow- passenger to secure apartments for me in the Indian Queen, and on my arrival found every thing prepared. On the whole, I was, perhaps, more comfortable in this hotel than in any other during the whole course of my tour. The culinary arrangements of the establishment were excellent, and the assiduity of an old negro waiter in even anticipating my wants, left mo only the appre- hension, that, by excess of present comfort, I might become less patient under future privations. I was now in a Slave State, and the knowledge of being so, brought with it something of excitation. I had never even seen a slave, and my fancy had framed a sort of abstiact impersonation of the whole class — a being of strong passions and melancholy aspect, crushed by labour, degraded by ignorance, brutalized by the lash ; in short, a monster like that of Frankenstein, human in form, but subject only to the influences which affect the animal part of our nature. I found the domes- tics in the hotel were all slaves, and there was a certain novelty of sensation, half pleasant and half painful, con- nected with their services. For the first time in my life, did I bless God for the whiteness of my skin. It was not in the class of domestic servants, however, that I could reasonably expect to discover the marked peculiarities which my imagination had pictured as the badge of all the tribe. My idea of a slave had always been associated with field labour, a burning sun, and the splendid peculiarities of tropical scenery. In the hotel, I saw only decent-looking Avaiters and housemaids, obser- vant of all external proprieties of demeanour ; dischar- SLAVERY IN MARYLAND. 229 ging their several duties with cxactitiulo, and distinguish- able from European servants by nothing but colour. Of the secrets of the ])rison-house — of the modes adopted to enforce obedience in those unhappy creatures, I know nothing from jjcrsonal observation, and certainly those with whom I conversed made n(j complaints of their condition. My servant, however, was admitted rather more behind the scenes, and made some rather shocking reports of inflictions by broom-sticks and cow- hides, which it had been his fortune to witm"j. In regard to one atrocity, I remember he was particularly eloquent. The master or mistress of the establishment, for reasons no doubt deemed satisfactory, judged it expe- dient to lay open the skull of poor Boots with the spit or poker, and, in corroboration of the charge, I can cer- tainly testify having observed that functionary with his dexter organ of secretiveness covered by a plaster. But in gentlemen's fiimilies, of course, such disgraceful scenes do not occur, being utterly irreconcilable with that bene- volent intelligence by which the citizens of Baltimore are eminently distinguished. It is, indeed, highly j)robable that Maryland will not long continue to be disgraced by the existence of slavery within its boundaries. The agricultural staples of the State are corn and tobacco, the climate is healthy and temperate, nor is there any possible reason why the sys- tem of slave labour might not be instantly abolished. The continuance of the curse — and a curse deeper and more deadly never was inflicted on any community — is entirely gratuitous, the consequence of long habit and deep-rooted prejudice, rather than any beneficial result which it can even be imagined to produce. In the more southern States it is diflferent. The climate is less salu- brious, and the cultivation of rice or sugar certainly could not be carried on without slave labour. The immediate interests of the proprietors, therefore, are decidedly opposed to emancipation. Whenever it shall 1 I it;ji fc l! i. 230 BALTIMORE. take place, it is certain that vast tracts of country, at present highly productive, will be thrown out of culti- vation. But in Maryland, and even in Vii-ginia, swch difficulties do not occur. There slave labour would instantly be replaced by that of freemen, to the infinite benefit of the landed proprietors, and the general aei'- haps the chief lion of the j)lai.shops, wont for nothing with my fair auditor. Her a])ologi('s for having wounded my feelings became even more .strenu- ous than before ; and, as it was evidently agreea1)lo that I should .ippear in the light of a mortified man, I at length judged it better to desist from further disclama- tion. If I know any thing of Joliu Bull, he is not quite so sensiti\e a person as it pleases the good })C()|)lo on ihis side of the water to b(>lieve him ; and the idea of an Englishman at the present day being distressed by regret at the failure of the attack on Baltimore, is perhaps somewhat closely connected with the ludicrous. Baltimore is celebrated for hospitality and the beauty of its women, and I can bear testimony to the justice of its reputation for both. In no other city of the United States is the former so frequent and habitual, and in none are there so few of the sordid characteristics of traffic apparent to a stranger. There struck me as being at Baltimore, more effort than elsewhere, to cond)ine the pleasures of social life with })rofessional labour. The effect of this is generally felt in society. Tlie tone of conversation is lighter and more agre(;able ; and to])ios of mere connnercial interest are rarely obtruded at the dinner-table. In Baltiinore there is not much pretension of any sort ; and the average of literaiy accomplishment is per- haps low(!r than in Philadel[)hia or lioston. In such matters, however, a transient visitor can foi-m at best but an uncertain and very fallible judgment ; but I can with truth assert, that my recollections of Baltimore arc of the most agreeable kind, and that I (piitted it with a strong sentiuKint of regard for several of its inhabitants, wdiich time has yet done nothing to diminish. The ladies of l^altimore, I have already intimated, are remarkable for personal attraction ; indeed, I am not m ,^r BEAUTY OF THE WOMEN. 233 aware that, in proportion to the niinihors assonihlcd, I have ever seen so much beauty as in the parties of Bal- timore. The fiffure is perhaps defieient in hei<;ht, hut jylphliive and graceful ; the features are generally i'(\gu- lar and delicately modelled; and the fair lialtimoreans are less romarkahle than American ladies usually are, for the absence of a certain fulness and grace of proportion, to which, from its rarity, one is led i>erha}>s to attach somewhat too nnich value as an ingredient of beauty. Tlie figure of an American lady, when past the first bloom of youth, presents an aggregate; of straight lines and corners altogether ungraceful and inharmonious. There is aii overweening j)roj)ortit)n of bone, which occasionally j)rotrudes in quarters where; it cei'tainly adds nothing to the general charms of tlui ])erson. The result is, |)erhaps, a certain tendency to sora(j(jiness, which I have no doubt to the eye of a youn<^ poet would be exceedingly annoying. A middle-aged gen- tleman, however, looks on such objects thro\igh a medium more philosophical ; and I imagine, that were it possible to combine the scattered and im|)alpable ehnnents of female attraction, and to form a fair estimate of their amount, the ladies of the Uinted States would have no deficiency to lament in comparison with other nations. The trade of Baltimore, I liave been assured, has, withhi the last twenty years, been greatly on the decline. During the long war which agitated lun'oi)e, America enjoyed nearly the whole carrying trade of the world. While her flag had only to brave the l)ree/.e, and not the battl(», it was to be s(!en waving on every sea and in every harbour of the world. Wealth flowed in on her from all (quarters ; and, like the lawyei" in the fable, while each of the belligenmts received a shell in the shape of victories and Extraordinary Gazettes, this prudent and sagacious people contrived to keej) possession of the oyster, liut the United States at length resigned the innumerable benefits of noutraiity. Mr Madison's pro- W . !<■ ■'-m 234 DECLENSION OF THE TRADE OF DALTIMOPE. cl.'unation of wm* \vi\» the signal for the decay of Balti- more ; and tlie termination of hostilities in Enr()])o having left other nations at lilnn-tyto exert their fiatural ad\antages in the pursnits of eonnneree, the harbour is noH' eomparatively deserted, and the <|nays are no longer thronged with a busy and hustling ( I'owd, as in the good old times, when jxioplo in Euiojie eut each oth(!r's tiu'oats beeause they ha])|)e?ied to live ondilU'rent sides of the i'yrenees, or were tlividod by the llhinc. The v'ortl.y citi/c^ns of Baltimore no doubt deploro with ". r siiuerity the dtu-rease of ])nguaeity anioii!,' their JMU'opean brethren. In<','ed, I havi; heard siiico my arrival in America the toast of " A bloody war in Europe," drunk with enthusiasm. The general progress of intelligence is mi<(U(>stionably adverse to the gratiii- catiou of the humane aspirations of these repid>li('au philanthropists ; but a still greater obstacle consists in a prevailing defitiency in what is emphatically called the sinews of war. If the people of the United States, fur the sake of getting ii]) a good desolating war, will only pay the piper to svt the thing fairly a-going, they may, no doubt, as matters at jtresent stand in Euro[>e, he indulijed with hostilities to any i)rotitabie amount. A note — a ^vord, front Metternich or Talhiyrand, would do the business ; and the Continent, fron- Moscow to Mad- rid, would witness a repetition of the same se(!nes with which it must already bo tolerably familiiir. Indeed, without any such exercis(» of liberality on Jonathan's part, it is only too probable that his wish may eri>lonji; be gratified ; and (certainly, if wealth is to flow from such a source, it could not have a better destination than tiie jnu'ses o." Vh; g- «'d citizens of B/ eraitloy k ''berally in acts of benevo- lence antl hospit; iu y. Bei.sg anxious ^ '."/it . • j , jme of the [uoceedings of the Still Leg!Siatu''L•^, it, was my intention to proceed to Annapolis, the sea), ui > ;overinnent, wh n'o both houses n STATE LEGISLATURE — MR CARROL. 235 i' Halti- Mjitural lioiir is !ir(> 110 I, as ill It each illrrciit line. 5<'|)!(»ro aiiioiiii; 'd since war in »i"o,ur('s,s .yratili- (iiblicim is(s ill ;i illed the iitcs, for vill only were in session. To this jnojoct, liowevor, I found my Baltimore friends exeeediiii^ly adverse. Tliey assured me that I would meet with nothin.y at Annapolis to repay the trouble of tlu; journey ; that the inns were bad, the roads still worse, an wriiit? Jill mIic could, niid jjiivc iiotliiiiL!; in return which it mi^ht he at iiJI pro- iitJ«l>it' to kc( j>. W'itii II judicious economy of ^'ildn'ts and jail room at homo, .she was so olili^ini( as to iiccclc- rati! tht> naturid increas*; of |)o|iuiation l>y the InnisiniM- sion ot" certain utMiHeinen and Indies, who, itein^' loiiiul somewhat ;iwkw!irdly delicient in the ethics of |iro|)('rtv in their own coiintiy, were dis|)at<'hed lo improve llicir morals on the plnntations of Maryland iuid Vir<4itii;i Tlien, in her motherly care, she fenced in their triidc with all mnnner of restrictions, which could in any way uontrilmte to the re|tlenisliin^ of her own parental exciic- «|Uer ; and, to crown her henefits, con«lescended to export a copious sup|>iy of Lord Johns and i-ord Charleses, to fill their empty |iock»>|s, and Ueep the peo|)le in u^ood- linnioiu" with line spee»dies, stroUL;' prisons, aiul a round inilitarv for<'e. All this Ml- tarred rememhers, l»ut he has lived jo sec a st;ite of iiiiiKcis somewhat diHei'elit. 'i'h(^ cidonics ha\c disappeareil, and in their place has ris(>n a powerful (!onfcder;i(ion of free states, spreadinn' a population of twejv*' millions oxer a vast extent of f(>itile territorv, and poHsexsMiif a commerce and marnu> second orny to tlios*" of that nation fnuii whom they hoast tludr descent. Jle hohcdds his countrymen as happy as the unfettered efijoyment of their i>reat natui'al advantafi^(;», and insti- ttitioiis of the; Imtadest (h'mocracy, can make them, lie w.'es whole rcjuions. formerly tlu^ savage haunts s covered with steam-ves- H(!ls of^nt>anti<'si/e,iuiy some adventurous tra- voiler, eonnei^ted with tlii^ (xfcan Uy nmaiiM of canals, 111 short, the lot of Mr Carrol has boeu cast in v.liat i^W-i JOITRNKY TO WASHINGTON. 237 must over ho th<' most (ivotitful period of his ooimtry's history ; »iii into tlic j^'ravc, this vciiiTaldc! |»atriot may woll l»o <-oiitoMt to follow tliciii, liii|>|»y till tin* last in tin- onj<»yiiioiit of tli(! iiltiicliinciil of liis family, and tlio ostoom and rcvcrnicc of Ids fcllow-citizoiis.* l''or tilt! last tortiiid in acconiplishihg' tlio j«niriioy to VV'ashiiiLjton. Tlt»- |M'rils of travelling, however, ar* generally tjn'ater in fxpeetation lliiili experieliee ; jind we i:^)t oxer tlie distaiiee, forty miles, with i^^reater faeilify, and f(!wer inovini; aeei<|<'nt.s tlian I should have heeii ijlad to liavi- fom]»ounded for, hcfon^ leaving HaltiiiKH-e. I wan looking' from tlu^ window of the coach, in a sw)rt of hrowii study, at fields eoven'd with snow, when one of my fellow-passeni^'ers eiKpiired how I liked Washington '* " I will tell you when I seo it," was my reply. " ^ '',>» yu have heeii in Wash- ini^toii for the hist ipiarter of all hour," rejoined my fellow-traveller. And s(» it was ; y(;t nothing could [ discern hut a miseiahle cottage or two occasionally skirting thlliK<'»<<' "1' Ills rincij)al front — the western — tlie fa9ade is l)roken from tiie Aviiigg being thrown batdc. This is unfortunate, and the etK'ct is still further injured by the basement of the centre b(dng brought too prominently into view. The vestibule opens on a large (drcular hall, Avhich occupies th(i centre of the building, and is lighted by the dome. This spacious apartment is adorned by four pictures by Colonel TnnnbuU, a gentleman distinguished both as ii patriot and an artist, lie bore, I believe, considerable part in the contest of the Revolution, and has since been employed by the General Government to conmiemorato, by his pencil, those trium])hs to which he contributed with his sword. The subjects he has selected, are the surrender of liurgojnie, the Declaration of In, called the district of Colund)ia, which, in order to secure the cori^dete inde- pendence of the General Government, is ])laced under the innnediatt; control of Congress. It would have been inconsistent with the American character, had the ori- ginal jdan of the future metropolis not been framed on a scale of gigantic magnitude. A parallelogram, nearly five miles in length, and more than two in breadth, was at once parcelled out with pleasing regularity into streets, squares, and avenues ; and prejiarations were )N. lie cliair it oitlior rvcs as a rhoni tlio of entre. miiiiatod first spe- opjiurtii- journod, ongrcss, all i^ivi'n )ligiii!4ly nc. On nto nar- ^enerally 1 visitctl. inidahle bals, and )n, imu'h sitlorable omowliat I to find »n a point I, about a aehod to istriot of eto indo- sd iindor lavc been the ori- 'aniod on n, nearly idth, was rity into oils were ATPEARANCK OP WASHINGTON. 241 fondly made for the rapid growth of a city, compared with which London would dwindle !ito a village. In short, nothing could bo more splendid than Washington on paper, and nothing moro entirely th(> leverse of splendid than the real city, when at wide intervals a few paltry houses were seen to arise ami*.! the surrountl- ing forest. The founders of Washington imagined it would become the seat of a lai'ge foreign conunerce. This expectation has been disappointed. Wasiiington has no trade of any kind, and there is at present no prospect of its ever possessing any. Its only liopes are now founded on its advantages as the seat of government, which must secure to it the benefit arisit 4' from the expenditure of a large diplomatic body, and of those iiamediately con- nected with the executive government. Many yc'ars have passed since tlie foundation of Wiishington, and it has at length begun to assume something of the a])pearance of a city. It is not easy, liowever, to detect in its ')rcsent aspect any thing of that system and regularity delightful in tlie scheme of its founders. Instead of commeiudng this gigantic undertaking at a central point, it was considered most judicious to begin at the extremities, and build inward from the cli'cumference. The conse(pience has been, that there is pcrhai»s no city in the world of the same population, in v.duch the distances to be traversed in the ordinary intercouso of society are so large. The most glaring want in Washington is that of compactness and consistency. The houses are scattered in straggling groups, three in one quarter and half-a-dozen in another; and evei" and anon our compassion is excited by some disconsolate dwelling, the first and last born of a square or cresent yet innuhibus, suffering like an ancient maiden in the mournful solitude of single blessedness. There is nothing sordid in Washington, but nothing, at the same time, v.hich claims a higher praise than is 1 . i , (, .. I: ,. m I ^^y. %^^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) i.O I.I 1.25 15 I: s^ |||j|2^ '"M 1.8 1.4 l|||i4 - 6" Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STRICT WEBSTER N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-45C3 i- W^.i I < i 242 THE REPRESENTATIVES. \i I V -.t implied in the epithet respectable. The chief street of the city is called Pennsylvania Avenue, and extends from the Capitol to the President's house, a distance which I guessed in walking it to be about a mile and a half. Near to the latter of these buildings are the public offices, unadorned edifices of brick, with nothing about them which it would be very easy eithci' to con- sure or admire. In this quarter also are the houses of the foreign ministers, and generally of the members of the Cabinet, so that its claims to being the Court en ' are undeniable. On the morning after my arrival, having dispatched my letters, I returned to the Capitol, where I passed the morning very agreeably in the Senate and the House of Repk-esentatives. The Speaker of the latter, and the Vice-President of the United States, who presides in the former — to both of whom I had the honour to be the bearer of introductions — were obliging enough to grant me the privilege of entr^ to the body of the house : so that, during my stay in Washington, I enjoyed the advantage of being able to listen to the debates without any of the jostling and inconvenience, often unavoidable in the gallery. I have already described the hall of the Representa- tives : I would now say something of the members. Their aspect as a body was certainly somewhat different from any idea I had formed of a legislative assembly. Many were well dressed, and of appearance sufficiently senatorial to satisfy the utmost demands even of a severer critic in such matters than I pretend to be. Rut a large proportion undoubtedly struck me as vulgar and uncouth, in a degree which nothing in my previous experience had prepared me to expect. It is impossible to look on these men without at once receiving the conviction that they are not gentlemen by habit or education, and assuredly in no society in Europe could they be received as such. street of extends distance mile and 1 are the iiothinsr to cen- tiouses of mbers t>f ^ourt en ' ispatched assed the House of and the esides in in' to be loiigh to le house ; ioyed the s without avoidable presenta- nembcrs. diiFeront issembly. ■fficiently a severer Rut a Igar and previous npossible ving the habit or po could HALL OF THE SENATE. • 243 Each member is furnished with a desk, and a consi- derable number are usually engaged during the progress of public business in writing letters or reading news- papers. Generally speaking, great decorum prevails in debate. Neither cheering, nor interruption of any kind is permHted, and it is rare that any strenuous exercise of the Speaker's authority is demanded for the preservation, of order. There have been occasions, however, on which the violent paasions excited by antagonism of opinion, corabined with personal dislike, have led to scenes per- haps unprecedented in any other deliberative assembly in the world. But the course of debate, though often troubled and vehement, is rarely violent ; and the moral sense of propriety entertained by the majority of the House, is practically found to operate as a sufficient restraint on the irritable passions of individuals. The hall of the Senate is a good deal smaller than that of the Representatives, and is very elegantly fitted up. It is likewise in the form of a semicircle, with desks at convenient distances for the members, who sit uncovered. The President's chair is in the centre, and the office of this functionary — so far at least as it is con- nected with the maintenance of order — I should ima- gine to be something of a sinecure. In the course of the many debates of the Senate at which I was present durinof my stay in Washington, I do not remember any instance in which it was found necessary for the Presi- dent to interpose his authority. The appearance of the assembly is grave and dignified. The senators are generally men of eniinence in their several States, who may be supposed to bring to the task of legislation the results of more mature judgment and varied experience. The tone of debate is therefore pitched higher than in the more popular House. Questions a^e discussed in a temper more philosophical and statesmanlike. The range of argument is widened, that of invective nar- rowed ; and the members of the Senate are less given mt 244 AMUSEMENTS OF WASHINGTON. to indulge in those flights of vapid and puerile declama- tion, which prove nothing but deficiency of taste and judgment in the orator. Washington is undoubtedly the gayest place in the Union, and must, I should imagine, be the very para- dise of hackney-coachmen.* If these gentlemen do not get rich, it must be owing to some culpable extrava- gance; for their vehicles are in continual demand from the hour of dinner till five in the morning, and long dis- tances and heavy charges are all in their favour. Wash- ington, too, is the only place in the Union where i)eople consider it necessary to be agreeable — whore pleasing, as in the Old World, becomes a sort of business, and the enjoyments of social intercourse enter into the habi- tual calculations of every one. The reason of this is obvious enough. The duties of legislation bring together a large body of gentlemen from all quarters of the Union, whose thne in the morn- ing is generally passed in the Capitol, but who, without the delassements of dinner ])arties and balls, would find their evening hours a burden somewhat difficult to be disposed of. Idle men are generally pleasant ; they feel the necessity of being so, and make it their occupation, when they have no other. Your lawyer or your mer- chant, on the other hand, is so engrossed by weightier matters, that he has no time to cultivate the graces of life, or those thousand arts of courtesy which contribute so materially to enhance the enjoyments of society. The experience of the world is in favour of the assertion, that it is impossible to excel both in pleasure and business. • During the first week of my stay in Washington, I paid tMrty rejudicej and caprices of his consti- tuents. Let a member of Congress attempt to follow a hold, manly, and independent course, and he is instantly sent back into private life, with his foo !ngs injured, and his future chances of success materially diminished by the reputation of public failure. The absurdity of the amount of representation of the different States being at all influenced by the number of slaves, is too gross to require elaborate exposure. Yet, without this, the Union could not have been effected, owing •:o the extreme jealousy of the Southern States. It is tho fashion in America to dilate on the anomalies of the B ritish constitution ; but even the Scottish High- land proprietors, though by no means a body celebrated either for wisdom or disinterestedness, have not yet ven- tured to petition that the black cattle, which, like slaves in Virginia, are sent annually in droves to tho south, should be taken into the census of population, witii a view to add to their political influence. There can be no doubt, that the division of the legis- lature into two bodies, acting separately, and with co-ordinate powers, is founded in wisdom. It may be doubted, however, whether in times of excitement ihe American Senate would practically be found to have any efficient influence in preventing violent and hasty legis- lation. Unlike the British House of Peers, tho Senate m mmmm 256 DIVISION OP THE LEGISLATURE — THE EXECUTIVE. Pi fm) I R is not composed of members having a direct and personal interest in maintaining the privileges of their branch of the legislature. They are men taken for a temporary purpose from the common walks of life, to which, at the expiration of their political service, they return. They are subject to all the impulses which can affect the deliberations of the more popular House. In no point of view do they present themselves under the aspect of an independent body. They are the creatures of popular favour, and in that, like the representatives, they live, move, and have their being. The interests, the habits, the modes of thought, of both bodies are the same. It is in vain, therefore, to look to the American Senate as affording any check on the tendency towards demo- cracy, which is discernible in all the workings of the constitution. It was the wish of Hamilton that the Senators should be elected for life, and that a consider- able qualification of pioperty should be attached to the office. Had Washington publicly supported him in those views, it is probable that a scheme of government, combining gr^^ater vigour and durability, might have been aiopted. But Washington, though bold in the field, was timid in the cabinet. The opportunity was suffered to pass, and from the period of the adoption of the present constitution, all hopes of organizing a govern- ment on a broader and more permanent basis, were for ever at an end. The President of the United States is elected for four years. On entering office, he takes an oath to preserve, protect, and defend the constitution of the United States. He is commander-in-chief of the army and navy, and of the militia of the different States, when called into actual service by the general government. He has the power of negotiating treaties, but not of rati- fying them, until sanctioned by a majority of two-thirds of the Senate. He nominates all officers, civil and mi- litary, but the assent of the Senate is necessary to the POWERS OP THE PRESIDENT. 257 validity of the appointment. He receives foreign am- bassadors. He may grant pardons and reprieves, except in cases of treason and impeachment. Should the two Houses of Congress disagree as to the period of adjourn- ment, he may adjourn them to such time as he niay think proper. He fills offices ad interim when the Senate aie not in session; but, on their reassembling, that body may annul the appointments. Under the control of the President are three execu- tive departments, the heads of which constitute what is called the Cabmet. The Secretary of Si,ate discharges all the duties of the foreign department. Through this officer the President expresses his opinions in all diplo- matic intercourse. The other mcmibers of the Cabinet, are the Secretaries of the Treasury, of War, and of Naval Affairs. Of such materials is the American executive com- posed, and it is impossible to observe the restrictions with which every exercise of its authority has been clogged, without at once perceiving that it was from this quarter alone that danger lo the constitution was expected to proceed. The idea of a perpetual Dictator was the bugbear which frightened American statesmen from their propriety, and rendered them indifferent to all perils which assumed another and less alarming aspect. Even at the present day, after forty years' experience of their constitution, there are many individuals, otherwise distinguished for talent and good sense, whoso imagina- tion is still haunted by " chimeras dire" of military tyranny, organized by a quadrennial President with a salary of five thousand a-year, an army of six thousand men, and without independent and unshackled patron- age of any sort ! One might be content to smile at such nonsense if it carried with it no serious consequences ; but when we see the destinies of a great nation materi- ally affected by it, we cannot but lament the extent and influence of the delusion. In truth, the manifest and R 258 AnSURD DnKAD OP THE EXECUTtVR. If ])orvadini? dcfoct of tho Arnoricaii govcrmncnt. in tlio very want of that indoponcUuit «!n(!rfi;y wliicth Ikm* .statcs- moii regard with so mucli futlh! approhtMisiou. Tlio Prcsukuit is a kind of King Log, whom it has Imm thought prudent to dei)rive of nicnduTs altogether, in ordvT to prevent the ])ossihinty of liis (h)ing miscrhicf. It might have lu^en very judi(!iou.s, no (h)ubt, to extract the teeth and ])ar(^ th«i ehiws of so fcM'oeic.us an animal, hut certainly not to carry thcj nuitilation so far jis to destroy the whole bodily functions, if these eould he rendiTed useful to the eomnuuuty. It is to be lamented that a governnuMit of gnvitc^r vigour and ettieieney was not originally adopted, Niiico the very newness of political institiitions is of itself a source of weakness. It is only by slow degrees that tlu» intellect and habits of a j)eoi)le become aceonnnodated to the operation of a govtirnment — that tluiir prejudi<'es are enlisted in its favour, and a sort of preseri[)tive ivjspeet is obtaimvl which adds materially to tlui beiuifit it is capable of conferring. Until the American insti- tutions shouhl have gainex(Mnitiv(i olHcc^ of tlu? H(!|mbli(! would havo l)oori rc'ii(l(M'0(l iiiiu*c(»s,sil)l«? to hwvU iiiHiicnv(i ttMiiptation of (jvcsry sort, and he assailed hy no inducement to swerve from th(( politty which ho iiiiifht (Mnisid(>r best cak^ulated to ju'oiiiote the interests of his country. Such a pn sumption, howcfver, would he entirely un- warranted. Tlu! PrcHident is elected for a period of four years; but tins custom has ^eruiraliy been to re-elect him for a seconntified with partic\dar opi- nions, and some particular policy, that it is impossible to r(>trac(; his steps without loss both of consistency and charactower exercised by this class of writers over the public mind is very great. JJooks circulate with diffi- culty in a thinly peopled country, and arc not objects on which the solitary denizen of the forest would be likely to expend any portion of the produce of his labour. But newspa[)ers penetrate to every crevice of the Union. There is no settlement so remote as to be cut off from this channel of intercourse with their fellow-men. It is thus that the clamour of the busy world is heard even in the wilderness, and the most remote invader of dis- tant wilds is kept alive in his solitude to the common ties of brotherhood and country. Newspapers have a character and influence distinct from that of all other literature. They are emphatically present existences ; the links between the past and the future. Forming part, as it were, of the very business of life, they are never alien to the minds of those who participate in its interests. They are read ; laid aside ; forgotten at night to be again remembered in the morn- ing. In truth, it is this incessant recreation which con- stitutes their power. The opinions of men are yielded willingly to their influence. It is contant dropping, as the old proverb hath it, which wears the stone. But the newspaper press is perhaps better adapted for the advocation and diffusion of the principles of a party, than for the attainment of the immediate objects of indi- vidual ambition. The influence of a public journal can scarcely be considered a thing personal to its conductor. It circulates in a thousand places where his name and existence are entirely unknown. Indeed, to the great ORAL ELOQUENCE, 2G7 Tho mass of his readers he is not a mar. of thews and sinews, broad cloth and corduroys, eating, drinking, spitting, and tobacco-chewing like themselves, but a sort of airy and invisible being — " a voice, a mystery," which it requires an effort of abstrar'tion to iiapersfjiiate. In America, therefore, the influence of the pen, though admitting of vast extension, is only secondary, as an instrument of political ambition, to that of the tongue. A writer may enforce the peculiar tenets of his party with the utmost skill, and support them with great logi- cal acuteness, and yet be very scantily endowed with the powers of a debater. Such powers, however, are indisjKjnsable, or at least, in the estimation of the elec- tors, are practically found to outweigh every other accomplishment. A convincing proof of this almost uniform preference may be found in the fact, that :f the whole federal legislature nineteen-twentieths are lawyers, men professionally accustomed to public speaking. The merchants — the great capitalists of New York, Boston, and Philadelphia, and the other Atlantic cities, constitut- ing, I fear not to say, the most enlightened body of citizens in the Union — are almost as etlbctually excluded from political power, by deficiency in oratorical accomplish- ment, as they could be by express legal enactment. The acquisition of a faculty so important, therefore, i? necessarily one of the primary objects of Transatlantic education. Teachers of elocution, and of all the petty trickeries of delivery, to which inferior men find it ne- cessary to resort, abound every where. An American boy, from the very first year of his going to school, is accustomed to spout. At college, he makes public orations. On emerging into life he frequents debating societies, numerous every whciO, and his qualifications are thus made known to the electors, whose suffrages on some future occasion he becomes anxious to obtain. He next commences practice as a lawyer, and in that capa- city reaps some advantage from his previous notoriety. f I 11 ■ffi ^268 MEAIVS OF POLITICAL ADVANCEMENT. The road to political distinction then opens. lie is probably elected a member of the legislature of his na- tive state. Saould he acquit himself in his new capa- city with credit, in a few years }ie beconies a deloffate to Congvcss, and enters on a higher sj)horo of logisla- tive duty. At ' o period of his progress, however, is his tenure of the favour of his constituents secure. There is a sectional jealousy prevalent throughout tlie United States — a restless anxiety in the inhabitants of each district, that their local, and perhaps exclusive interests, however insignificant, should be resolutely obtruded on the attention of the legislature. Tliey consider also, that their own consequence is intimately affected by the figure made by their representative in Congress, and would hold it to be a dereliction of their just claims, were he to suffer any interesting question to pass without engrossing some portion of the attention of the assembly. Verily, the yoke of such constituents is not easy, nor is their burden light. The public jn-ints must bear fre- quent record of the loquacity of their representative, or they are not satisfied. Tiie consequence is, that in the American Congress there is more of what may bo called speaking against time, than in any other deliberati\e assembly over known. Each member is aAvare that he must either assume a certain prominence in debate, or give up all ho]ie of future re-election, and it is needless to say which alternative is usually preferred. An uni- versal tolerance of long speeches is thus gonerrited, and no attempt is ever made to restrict the range of argu- ment or declamation within the limits even of lemote connexion with the subject of discussion. One conti- nually reads in the public p.apers such announcements as the following : — " In the House of Representatives, yesterday, l\Ir Tompkins occupied the whole day with the continuation of his brilliant speech on the Indian question, and is in LONG SPEECHES IN CONGRESS. 2G9 possession of the floor to-morrow. He is expected to conclude on Friday ; but, from the press of other busi- ness, it '.vill probably be Tuesday next before Mr Jeffer- son X. Bugff will commence his reply, which is expected to occupy the whole remainder of the week." In fact, an oration of eighteen or twenty hours is no uncommon occurrence in the American Congress. After this vast expenditure of breath, the next step of the orator is to circulate his speech in the form of a closely printed pami)jdet of some hundred and fifty pages. A plentiful supply of copies is dispatched for the use of his constituents, svho swallow the bait ; and at the conclu- sion of the session, the member returns to his native town, where he is lauded, feasted, and toasted, and — what he values, probably, still more — re-elected. The Americans enjoy the reputation in Europe of being par excellence a sensible people. I fear their character in this respect must suffer some depreciation in the opinion of those who have enjoyed the advantage of observing the proceedings of their legislative assem- blies. The mode in which the discussion of public business is carried on in Congress, certainly struck me as being not only unstatesmanlike, but ii flagrant vio- lation of the plainest dictates of common sense. The style of speaking is loose, rambling, and inconclusive ; and adherence to the real subject of discussion evi- dently forms no part, either of the intention of the orator, or the expectation of his audience. A large proportion cf the si)eakers seem to take part in a debate with no other view than that of individual display ; and it sometimes happens that the topic immediately press- ing on the attention of the assembly, by some strange per- versity, is almost the only one on which nothing is said. It is evident that such a style of discussion — if dis- cussion it can be called — could only become prevalent in an assembly with abundance of leisure for the enactment of these oratoricitl interludes. In a bo'^^y ;|i. i 270 STYJ.E OP SPEARING IN CONORFSS. like the liriti«h Parliament, compelled by the pressure of business to be economical of tim ~ it could not pos- sibly be tolerated. The clamorous interests of a great nation are matters too serious to be trifled with ; and time is felt to bo too valuable for expenditure on speeches better fitted for a spouting club than a grave dclilera- tive assembly. The truth, I believe, is, that the American Congress have really very little to do. All the multiplied details cf municipal legislation fall within the province of the State governments, and the regulation of commerce and foreign intercourse practically includes all the important questions which they are called on to decide. Nor are the members generally very anxious so to abbreviate the proceedings of Congress, as to insure a speedy return to their provinces. They are well paid for every hour lavished on the public business ; and being onco in Washington, and enjoying the pleasures of its society, few are probably solicitous for the termination of func- tions which combine the advantage of pecuniary emolu- ment, with opportunities of acquiring distinction in the eyes of their constituents. The farce therefore, by common consent, continues to be played on. The most prolix speeches are tolerated, though not listened to ; and every manoeuvre by which the discharge of public business can be protracted, is resorted to with the most perfect success. Of coir ie I state this merely as the readiest hypo- thesis by which the facts already mentioned can be explained ; but, in truth, there are many other causes at work. Though in either House there is no deficiency of party spirit, and political hostilities are waged with great vigour ; yet both in attack and defence there is evidently an entire want of discipline and arrangement. There is no concert, no division of duties, no compro- mise of opinion ; but the movements of party are exe- cuted without regularity or premeditation. Thus, i«-i^.'' .:wyp PARTY — WANT OF ORGANIZATION". 271 instead of the systematic and combined attack of an organized body, deliberately concerted on principles which will unite the greatest number of auxiliaries, government have in general to sustain only the assaults of single and desultory cond)atants, who mix up so much of individual peculiarity of opinion with ^^hat is common to their party, that any general system of effec- tive co-operation is impossible. It is evident enough, in whatever business the House may be engaged, that each individual acts for himself, and is eager to make or to discover some opportunity of lavishing all his crudi- ties of thought or fancy on his brother legislators. The consequence of all this is, that no one can guess, with any approach to probability, the course of discu.'^sion on any given subject. A speech, an argu- ment, an insinuation, an allusion, is at any time suffi- cient to turn the whole current of debate into some new and unforeseen channel : and I have often found it absolutely impossible to gather, from the course of argu- ment followed by the speakers, even the nature of the question on which the House were divided in opinion. In England, it is at least pretty certain that a motion on criminal law will not load to a discussion on foreign policy, including the improvement of turnpike roads, the e:;penses of Plymouth breakwater, the renewal of the East India Company's charter, and the prospects of Swan River settlement. But in America, a debate in Congress is a sort of steeple-chase, in which no one knows any thing of the country to be crossed, and it often happens that the object of pursuit is altogether lost sight of by the whole party. One effect— I do not know that it is a bad one — of this excursive stylo of discussion is, that every member finds it necessary to be on the alert. Something may at any moment be said, to which it is necessary that the representative for a particular State or district should immediately reply. Whatever may be the subject of I t Ml w ■n ■ If'' 272 CLiilMS OF MR MONROE. debate, no member — especially in the Lower House — can be absent a single hour with safety when an orator of the hostile party, according to American phrase, is *' in possession of the floor." I have often, in coming to the Capitol, enquired of members of the House of Representatives whether it was probable that any inte- resting discussion would take place in the course of tlie day. The answer uniformly was, that it was impossible to foresee ; for though the topic occupying the atten- tion of the House might be of the most commonplace kind, the debate on it was liable at any moment to diverge, and bring on the most unexpected results. But on this matter, us I have already perhaps dealt too much in " wise saws," I shall take the liberty of addu- cing a few modern insta'ices. One of the first debates at Avhich I was present, related to a pecuniary claim of the late President Monroe on the United States, amounting, if I remem- ber rightlv, to sixty thousand dollars. This claim had long been urged, and been repeatedly referred to com- mittees of the House of Representatives, who, after a careful investigation of the subject, had reported in favour of its justice. The question at length came on for discussion, " Is the debt claimed by Mr Monroe from the United States a just debt, or not ?" Nothing could possibly be more simple. Here Avas a plain matter of debtor and creditor ; a problem of figures, the solution of which must rest on a patient examination of accounts, and charges, and balances. It was a question after the heart of Joseph Hume — ^^a bono, of which that most useful legislator understands so well how to get at the marrow. Well, how was this dry question treated in the House of Representatives ? Why, as follows. Little or nothing was said as to the intrinsic justice or validity of the claim. Committees of the House had repeatedly reported in its favour ; and I heard no attempt, by fact DESCRIPTION OP DEBATE. 273 or inference, to prove the fallacy of their decision. But a great deal was said about the political character of Mr Monroe some dozen years before, and a great deal about Virginia, and its Presidents and its members, and its attempts to govern the Union, and its selfish policy. A vehement discussion followed as to whether Mr Monroe or Chancellor Livingstone had been the efficient agent in procuring the cession of Louisiana. Members waxed warm in attack and recrimination, and a fiery gentleman from Virginia was repeatedly called to order by the Speaker. One member declared, that, disapprov- ing altogether of the former policy of Mr Monroe's. Cabinet, he shou'd certainly now oppose his demand for payment of a debt, of which it was not attempted to prove the injustice. Another thought Mr Monroe would be very well ofl* if he got half of what he claimed, and moved rxi amendment to that effect, which, being consi- dered a kinu of compromise, I believe was at length carried, after repeated adjournments and much clamorous, debate. Another instance of discussion somewhat similar struck me very forcibly, and Avill afford, I imagine, sufficient illustration of the mode of doing business in the House of Representatives. It took place on a claim put for- ward by the widow of Commodore Decatur, for prize money due to him and his shij/s crew for something done in the Mediterranean. The particulars I forget ; but they are of no consequence. The Commodore hav- ing no family, had bequeathed the w' ole of his property,, real and personal, to his Avife, whom circumstances had since reduced to poverty. When I entered, the debate had already commenced, and the House seemed almost unanimous in the admission of the claim. This was dull enough, and as the subject itself had little to engage the attention of a stranger, I determined to try whether any thing of more interest was going forward in the Senate. While I was conversing with a member of the s I i ■ I . 274 CL.\IM OF COMMODORE DECATUR. House, however, some symptoms of difference of opinion began to manifest themselves. One member proposed, that as the money was to be granted principally Avitli a view to benefit the widow of Commodore Decatur, the ordinary rules of prize division should not be adhered to, and that a larger share than usual should be allotted to the commander of the armament. This proposition, however, was evidently adverse to the wishes of the majo- rity, and the amendment met Avith little support. This matter being settled, the discussion for some time Mont on more smoothly, and there seemed every prosi)oct of its reaching a speedy and amicable termination. At length, however, a member rose, and argued that the circumstance of the Commodore having bequeathed his whole property to his wife when he imagined he had very little property to leave, afforded no ground for the conclusion that, had he known of this large addition, it might not have been differently applied. He, therefore, expressed nis firm determination to oppose its exclusive appropriation to the widow. The widow, however, was not without able and zealous advocates to set forth her claims, and urge their admission. These pronounced her to be one of the most amiable and excellent of her sex, and maintained that, as the House had no possible access to know how the Commodore would have acted under circumstances merely hypothetical, there was no course to be pursued but to appropriate the mo.icy according to the desire actually expressf^d in his last will and testament. While the House were, for the nonce, divided into widowites and anti-ividowites, the discussion became still further embroiled. New matter of debate arose. Admitting that Mrs Decatur Avas entitled to a life interest in the money, was it fitting that she should have the power of alienating it at her death from the relatives of her husband ? This was very warmly debated. At length, a gentleman, in a very vehement and pathetic DEBATE IN CONGRESS. 275 speech, s^t forth the attractions, both mental and per- sonal, of cwo young ladies, daughters of a sister of Cap- tain Decatur, whose necessities unfortunately were equal to their merits . He had the honour, he said, of being their neighbour in the country; they were elegant and accom- pUshed, and often did his family the honour to accept such hospitality as they could oft'er. He should certainly oppose the grant altogether, if these young ladies were not to come in for a share. This speech had evidently great effect, and the party of the young ladies — comprising, of course, all the bachelors of the House — was evidently a strong one. A grave elderly member, however, took up the cudgels on the other side. He informed the House, that the brother of Commodore Decatur had been his intimate friend, and unfortunately had left a family very scantily provided for. What claims could any young ladies, however accomplished, who were daughters only of a sister, possess equal to those of this brother's children ? The latter were evidently the proper objects to be bene- fited by the present grant. He should oppose it on any other terms. The number of amendments had now become very great, and the accumulation of obstacles was increasing with every speech. I was assured — and from the tenor of the debate I have no doubt it was so — that a majority was decidedly in favour of the original claim, but minor discrepancies of opinion were found to be irreconcilable. Some insisted on the widow receiving the whole amount of the grant, others that it should go to the brother's family, others that the young ladies should be enriched by it, and others still were fo^' a general division, while a considerable party advocated the propriety of voting the grant untrammelled by condition of any sort. The result was, that, after a most unprofitable waste of many hours, the claim remained undecided, and was left for further debate in another Congress, when the farce I 276 AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. have just described will be re-enacted, no doubt, with all its original spirit. During my attendances at the Capitol, I have been sometimes amused in observing the process by which a question, originally simple, became, in the progress of discussion, so complicated and mixed up with irrelevant matter, and lost so completely all logical form, that it might have puzzled the most expert dialectician to form any judgment on it at all. Indeed, it was no uncommon occurrence for the mass of amendments to become so great, that even the members were bewildered, and wore compelled to apply to the Speaker to explain their bear- ing on each other Ji.id the original question ; and cer- tainly nothing gave me a higher oj^inion of the powers of that gentleman, than the clear and skilful manner in which he managed to recall the attention to the real point at issue, and prevent the House from becoming absolutely stultified by its o^^ni proceedings. In looking back to the earlier days of the republic, it would be scarcely fair to try the specimens of oratory that have come down to us by the standard of vei-y rigid criticism. The appropriate eloquence of the time was that of action, not of words. While the struggle for liberty was undecided, the men who dwelt in camps, and spoke with swords in their hands, had no leisure to think of tropes and figures, and their addresses to their country- men were distinguished by a manly earnestness worthy of the great cause in which they had embarked, and which more than compensated for unavoidable deficien- cies of taste. But with the achievement of the national independence a different state of things arose. Oratory, which on great and critical occasions, when mighty interests are at stake, and men give strong utterance to irrepressible convic- tions, is less an art than an impulse, became in more peaceful times a mere branch of professional accomplish- inent, which it was considered necessary for iiolitical aspii Am( AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 277 aspirants to acquire. The succeeding generations of Americans wore not, like their lathers, content with the simple expression of their feelings and opinions, without rhetorical embellishment or studied artifices of speech. The recorded specimens of this period of the republic indicate a sad deficiency of taste, originality, and imagi- native power. Starting, like another Adam, into sudden political existence, speaking the language, preserving the laws, and dependent on the literature of England, Ame- rica found it more difficult to cast off the trammels of mental allegiance, than to burst asunder the bonds of physical enthralment. Strong arms and hearts had proved adequate to the one, but a higher intellectual advancement than they had yet attained was necessary for the other. Thus it was, that from the very dawn of their inde- pendence the Americans became an imitative people. Having no examples of native excellence to appeal to, they at once adopted the models of another nation, without reflecting that these, however excellent, might be ill adapted for imitation in a state of manners and society altogether different. Surrounded by all the elements of originality in the world of untried images and associations with which they were familiar, they renounced them all, to become the imitators of a people who to this hour have denied them even the praise of skilful imitation. The world affords no instance of a people, among whom an eloquence, merely imitative, ever was success- ful. It is indeed quite evident that eloquence, to be effective, must be expressly accommodated, not only to the general condition of society, but to the habits, intel- hgence, sympathies, prejudices, and peculiarities of the audience. The images which appeal most forcibly to the feelings of one people, will fail utterly of effect when addressed to another, li^'ing under a different climate, accustomed to a different aspect of external nature, and 278 AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. of habits and sympathies generated under r. difterent modification of social intercourse. The first great objection, therefore, to American elo- quence is, that it is not American. When a traveller > isits the United States, and sees the form and pressure of society; a population thinly scattered tlircaigh regions of interminable forest ; appeararces of nature widely varying from those of European countries; the entire absence of luxury ; the prevailing plainness of manner and expression ; the general deficiency of literary acquire- ment ; the thousand visible consequences of democratic institutions ; he is naturally led to expect that the elo- quence of such a people would bo marked by images and associations peculiar to their own circumstances and condition. This anticipation would, no doubt, be strengthened by the first aspect of Congress. He would find in the Capitol of Washington two assemblies of plain farmers and attorneys ; men who exhibited in their whole deportment an evident aversion from the graces and elegancies of polished society ; of coarse appetites, and coarser manners ; and betraying a practical con- tempt for all knowledge not palpably convertible to tlie purposes of pecuniary profit. The impression might not be pleasing ; but he would congratulate himself on having at least escaped from the dull regions of common- place, and calculate on being spared the penalty of listening to the monotonous iteration of hackneyed me- taphor, and the crambe recocta of British oratory, hashed up for purposes of public benefit or private vanity, by a Washington cuisinier. In all this he would be most wTetchedly deceived. He might patiently sit out speeches of a week's dura- tion, without detecting even the vestige of originality either of thought or illustration. But he would be nauseated with trite quotations from Latin authors, ap- parently extracted for the nonce from the schoolbooks of some neighbouring academy. He would hear abun- (lan( asse the nati ELOQUENCE OP CONGRESS, 279 dance of truisms, both moral and political, emphatically asserted and most illogically proved ; he would learn the opinions of each successive orator on all matters of national policy, foreign and domesi,ir. He would be gorged with the most extra\ agant praises of the Ameri- can government, and the character and intelligence of the people. He w^^uld listen to the drivellings of an insatiable vanity, which, like the sisters of the horse- leech, is for ever crying, " Give, give." He would ascend with the orator into the seventh heaven of bom- bast, and sink with him into the lowest regions of the bathos. Still, in all this ho would detect nothing but a miserably executed parody — a sort of bungling pla- giarism — an imitation of inapplicable models — a mhnicry like that of the clown in a pantomime, all ridicule and burlesque. In American oratory, in short, he Avill find nothing vernacular but the vulgarities, and the entire disregard of those proprieties, on the scrupulous obser- vance of which the eft'ect even of the highest eloquence must necessarily depend. In Congress, the number of men who have received — what even in the United Sates is called — a classical education, is extremely small ; and of these the Tiropor- tion who retain sufficient scholarship to find pleasure in allusion to the words of tlie great Avriters of antiquity, is yet smaller. The great majority are utterly and reck- lessly ignorant of the learned languages, and the whole literature embodied in them ; and it is evident that with such an audience, any ai)poal to classical authority is mere waste of breath in tlie one party, and of patience in the other. It may appear strange under such cir- cumstances, but I have no doubt of the fact, that in the course of a session, more Latin — such as it is — is quoted in the House of Representatives than in both Houses of the British Parliament. Indeed it is ludi- crous'enough to observe the solicitude of men, e\idently illiterate, to trick out their speeches with such hackney- 280 CLASSICAL QUOTATIONS — MR RANDOLPH. \:ll Mi\ ed extracts from classical authors, as they may have picked up in the course of a superficial reading. Thus, if a member be attacked, he Avill probably assure the House, not in plain English, that the charge of his opponent is weak and without foundation, but in Latin, that it is " telum imbelle et sine ictu." Should he find occasion to profess philanthropy, the chances ore tliat the words of Terence, '* Homo sum, humani nihil," &c., will be mispronounced in a pathetic accent, with the right hand pressed gracefully on the breast. In short, mem- bers were always ready with some potty scrap of thread- bare trumpery, which, like the Cosmogonist in the Vicar of Wakefield, th<\y kept cut and dry for the frequent occasions of oratorical emergency. During my stay in Washington, I had the good for- tune to be present at one debate in the House of Rej^re- sentatives which excited much public interest. It related to the appointment of Mr Randolph as minister to the Court of Russia. The circumstances wore as follow : — Early in 1830, it was judged right by the Cabinet of Wa'uington to have a resident minister at the Court of Riisii;,. The individual selected for this high appoint- ment was Mr John Randolph, a gentleman of much eccentricity, high talents, and confessedly gifted witt extraordinary powers as a debater. Though this gen- tleman has never held any political ofiice, yet he has uniformly engrossed a very large share of the public attention, and has had the art or the misfortune in his own country to attract an unexampled portion of sincere admiration and vehement dislike. No man in America ever brought to debate an equal power of biting sarcasm, and few men, perhaps, if so gifted, would have used it so unsparingly. With the qualities of a statesi. :i, Mr Randolph is not considered by his countrymen to be largely endowed. His true element is opposition. He has attacked every successive administration for the last thirty years, with what vigour and effect those who have writlJ epithj Mil TRISTRAM BURGESS. 281 writlied under tlie torture of his withering invectives can alone adequately dosoribe. There is indeed some- thing almost fearfully ingenious in his employment of epithets, which cut, as it were, to the very core the objects of Ilia wrath. In habit and feeling no man can be more aristocratic than Mr Randolph, yet he has always been the stanch advocate of democratic principles. In one respect, ho is the very converse of Jefferson. Ho detests French literature and French society, i>raise8 England and her government perhaps more than they deserve, and among his strange and multifarious acquire^ raents, must be included an accurate acquaintance with the genealogies of the whole British Peerage ! When the situation of minister to the Court of St Petersburg was offered to this remarkable individual, he candidly informed the President, that the state of his health was such as to render him incapable of braving the severities of a Russian climate, and that, unless permitted to pass the winter months in London or Paris, he should feel compelled to decline the appointment. The per- mission was granted, and Mr Randolpli departed on his mission. He left, however, many enemies behind him, men who had suffered under the lash of his eloquence, and were naturally anxious to seize every opportunity of retorting punishment on so formidable an opponent. A few days before my arrival in Washington, the subject of this appointment had been fairly brouglit into debate, and a Mr Tristram Burgessj from Rhode Island, had made a vehement attack both on Mr Ran- dolph ?nd on the Government. This called up Mr Cam- breleng, one of the members for New York, a gentle- man of great talent, and decidedly ibj first political economist of the Union, who entered warmly on the defence of Ministers. There is no doubt that Mr Cam- breleng, under the influence of temporary excitement, in some degree exceeded the legitimate limits of legis- lative discussion. Mr Burgess happened to be an elderly i I' 282 SPEECH OF MR BURGESS. \m m gentleman, with a hooked nose, a head bald on the summit, but the sides of which displayed hair somewhat blanched by time. In allusion to these personal pecu- liarities, Mr Cambreleng certainly said something about the fires of Etna glov.ing beneath the snows of Cau casas, and also, rather unpleasantly, compared his oppo- nent to a bald-headed vulture. There can be no doubt of the bad taste of all this ; and I know Mr Cambreleng well enough to entertain the perfect conviction, that had any opportunity of subsequent explanation been afforded him, he would have been most ready to dis- claim any hasty expression that could be considered personally offensive to his opi)onent. It appeared, however, that explanation was neither demanded nor ex- pected. The House adjourned, and nearly three weeks elapsed before the subject again came on for discussion. I had no sooner reached Washington than I learned that great expectations were excited by the anticipated reply of Mr Burgess, who was one of the crack orators of the House. Poor Mr Cambreleng was evidently regarded as a doomed man ; his fate was sealed ; he could have no chance in a war of words with an intel- lectual giant like Mr Tristram Burgess ! I received congratulations on all hands on my good fortune in enjoying at least one opportunity of hearing a first-rate specimen of American eloquence. In short, the cry was " still he comes ;" and when, on the api)ointed day, he did come, it was bearing such a mass of written papers as gave promise of a prepared and voluminous speech. The promise was not belied. Mr Burgess's talent for diffusion was of the first order, and the speech was Shandean. Being, however, what is vulgarly called a slow coach, he did not get over the ground so rapidly as might have been desired, considering the vast dis- tance he was determined to travel. I know, at least, that he was three days on the road, and the point to •whicl my Tl the BurJ a to] worH and parr,> inia^ or e^ quali of ai was raatti SPEECH OF MR BURGESS, 283 •which he at last conducterl his passengers appeared to my vision very similar to that from which he started. Though my curiosity had been a good deal excited, the first three sentences were enough to calm it. Mr Burgess was evidently a man of some cleverness, with a tolerable command of w^ords, and a good deal of worldly sagacity. lie occasionally made a good hit, and once or twice showed considerable adroitness in parrying attack ; but he was utterly wanting in taste and ' imagination ; there were no felicities either of thought or expression ; nor could I detect a single trace of any quality which could be ranked among the higher gifts of an orator. A three days' speech from such a man was certainly a very serious aft'air ; and though as a matter of duty, on so great an occasion, I did bring myself to sit out the whole of it, it was done with the resolute determination to endure no second penance of a similar description. Were it possible to give aj-y tolerable report of a speech, which of itself would fill a volume, I would willingly appeal to it as exemplifying the justice of every charge which I have made against American eloquence. There were scraps of Latin and of Shak- speare ; there were words without meaning, and mean- ings not worth the trouble of embodying in words ; there were bad jokes, and bad logic, and arguments without logic of any kind ; there was abundance of exotic graces and home-bred vulgarities — of elabo- rate illustration of acknowledged truths — of vehe- ment invective and prosy declamation — of conclusions Avithout premises, md premises that led to no conclu- sion ; and yet this very speech was the subject of an eight days' wonder to the whole Union ! The amount of praise bestowed on it in the public journals, would have been condemned as hyperbolical if applied to an oration of Demosthenes. Mr Burgess, at the termina- tion of the session, was feted at New York ; and Rhode Hi ■aui 284 SPEECH OF MR BURGESS. M \ '!: fc I Island exulted in the verbal prowess of the most gifted of her sons ! There can be no doubt, therefore, that the speech of Mr Burgess Avas an excellent speec^: of the kind ; and, in order to give the reader some more definite notion of what that kind was, I shall enter on a few details. Be it known, then, that a large por^'on of the first day's oration related to the persona' l/'^ ' is of Mr Cambro- leng, who, as the reader is aware, had said something about the snows of Caucasus and bald-headed vultures. Such an affair, in the British Parliament, would proba- bly have been settled at the moment by the good feeling of the House. If not, a short and pitiiy retort was cer- tainly allowable, and good sense would have prevented more. But the House of Representatives and Mr Burgess manage these affairs differently. The orator commenced upon grey hair, and logically drew the conclusion, that as such discoloration was the natural consequence of advanced years, any disrespectful allusion to the effect, implied contempt for the cause. Now "i-'Tjo- every people in the world, Mahometan or Chris:: • civilized or barbarous, old age was treated with revovt" c Even on the authority of Scri})ture we are entitled tu assert, that the grey-head should be regarded as a crown of honour. All men must become old unless they die young ; and every member of this House must reckon on submitting to the common fate of humanity, &ic. &c. &c., and so ^n for about a quarter of an hour. Having said all that human ingenuity could devise about grey hair, next came bald heads ; and here the orator, with laudable candour, proceeded to admit that baldness might in one sense be considered a defect. Nature had apparently intended that the human cranium should be covered with hair, and there was no denying that the integument was both useful and ornamental. I am not sure whether, at this stage of the argument, TALENT OF CONGRESS. 285 Mr Burgess took advantage of the opportunity of impress- ing the House with a due sense of the virtues of bear's grease and macassar oil. I certainly remember antici- pating an episode on nightcaps and Welsh wigs, but on these the orator was unaccountably silent. He duly informed the House, however, that many of the greatest heroes and philosophei-s could boast little covering on their upper region. Aristotle was bald, and so was Julius CaJGai, &c, &c. &c. It was not till the subject of baldness had become as stale and flat, as it certainly was unprofitable, that the audience were introduced to the vulture, who was kept so long hovering over the head of Mr Burgess's oppo- nent, that one only felt anxious that he should make his pounce and have done with it. Altogether, to give the vulture — like the devil — his due, he was a very quiet bird, and more formidable Irom the offensive nature of his droppings, than any danger to be appre- hended from his beak or claws. In truth, he did seem to be somewhat scurvily treated by the orator, who, after keeping him fluttering about the hall for some three hours, at last rather unceremoniously dis- claimed all connexion with him, and announced that he, Mr Burgess, was " an eagle soaring in his pride of place, and, therefore, not by a moping owl to be hawked at, and killed!" This was too much for gravity, but luckily the day's oration had reached its termination, and the House broke up in a state of greater exhilara- tion than could reasonably have been antici].)ated from the nature and extent of the infliction. Havir.g dealt, perhaps, somewhat too largely in cen- sure, it is only fair that I should now advert to a few items which are entitled to a place on the per contra side of the account. In Congress, there is certainly no defi- ciency of talent, nor of that homely and practical sagacity, which, without ai)proaching the dignity of philosophy, is perhaps even a safer guide in the administration of a ! I w mmi m 28G AMERICAN LEGISLATORS, h' governnijnt like that of the United States. American legislators talk nonsensically, but they act prudently ; and tluir character is the very reverse of that attributed by Rochester to the second Charles — Who never said a foolish thing. And never did a wise one. It is not right that these men should be judged exclu- sively by their words ; their actions also must bo taken into account in forming a fair estimate of their charac- ter, moral and political. Were the condition of society to continue unchanged, they might commit blunders without end ; but there Avould be no danger that the interests of the community would sufter from pertinacious adherence to them. In this country, measures are judged less by their speculative tendencies, and more remote consequences, than by their direct and palpable results on their immediate interests. In Congress there is much clearness of vision, but little enlargement of view ; con- siderable perspicacity in discerning eftccts, but none of that higher faculty which connects them with their causes, and traces the chain of consequences beyond the range of actual experience. In short, it strikes iue that American legislators are more remarkable for acutencss than foresight ; for those qualities of intellect which lead men to pr fit by experience, than those which enable them to direct it. I have already said that the speaking in the Senate is very superior to that in the other House ; an opinion which I early took up, and subsequently felt no tempta- tion to change. Yet the faults of both bodies differ rather in degree than in character. There is the same loose, desultory, and inconclusive mode of discussion in both ; but in the Senate there is less talking for the mere purpose of display, and less of that tawdry empti- ness and vehement imbecility which prevails in the Representatives. Though the members of the Senate be absolutely and entirely dependent on the people, they MEMBERS OF THE SENATE. 287 are dependent in a larger sense ; dependent not on the petty cliil)s and coteries of a particular neighbourhood, but on great masses and numbers of men, embracing every interest and pursuit, and covering a wide extent of country. Then, from the comparative paucity of their numbers, there is less jostling and scrambling in debate, more statesmanlike argument, and less schoolboy decla- mation ; in short, considerably less outcry, and a great deal more wool. The Senate contains men who would do honour to ahy legislative assembly in the world. Those who left the most vivid impression on my memory are Mr Living- stone, now Secretary of Stai'o, and Mr Webster, whose powers, both as a lawyer and a debater, are without rival in the United States. Cf these emhient indivi- duals, and others, whose intercourse I enjoyed during my stay in Washington, I shall hereafter have occasion to speak. There were other members of the Senate, however, to whose speeches I always listened with plea- sure. Among these were General Hayne, from South Carolina — who, as governor oi that State, has since put the Union in imminent peril of mutilation — and Mr Tazewell of Virginia, a speaker of great logical acute- ness, clear, forcible, and direct in his arguments. General Smith of Maryland, and Mr Forsyth of Georgia, both struck me as being particularly free from the sins that do most easily beset their countrymen. When either of these gentlemen addressed the House, I always felt secure, not only that they had something to say, but that they had something worth saying ; an assurance of which they only who have gone through a course of Congressional debates can appreciate the full value. But whatever advantages the speeches of the Senate may possess over those of the Representatives, certainly brevity is not of the number. Every subject is over- laid ; there is a continual sparring about trifles, and, it i II I : mi 288 ANTIPATHIES OF STATES. 1 struck me, even a stronger display of sectional jealousies than in the other House. This latter quality probably arises from the senators being the representatives of an entire community, with separate laws, interests, and prejudices, and constituting one of the sovereign mem- bers o^ the confederation. When a member declares his opinions on any question, he is understood to speak the sentiments of a State, and is naturally jealous ot ihe degree of respect with which so important a revelation may be received. Then there are State antipathies and State affinities, a predisposition to offence in one quar- ter and to lend support in another ; and there is the odium in longum jaciens between the Northern and Southern States, shedding its venom in every debate, and influencing the Avhole tenor of legislation. One of the great evils arising, in truth, out of the very nature of the Union, is the sectional spiri . appc 'ent in all the proceedings of Congress. A re] lesenta tive from one State by no means considers himse f bound to watch over the interests of another ; and each being desirous to secure such local objects as may be condu- cive to the advantage of his own district, every species of trickery and cabal is put in requisition by which these objects may be obtained. There can be no doubt that the prevalence of such feelings is quite inconsistent Avith sound and wholesome legislation. Measures are esti- mated, not by their own merits, and their tendency to benefit the whole Union, but by the degree in which they can be made to subserve particular interests. One portion of the States is banded against another ; there is no feeling of community of interests; jealousies deepen into hostilities ; the mine is laid, a spark at length falls, and the grand Federal Constitution is blown into a thou- •^and fragments. Many evils arise from the circumstance of the Govern- ment, both in its executive and legislative branches, being purely elective. The members of the latter, be- ing a adop their popu and what l^ress sites so. feel vote " so. DEPENDENCE OP THE LEGISLATURE. 289 ing abjectly dependent on the people, are compelled to adopt both the principles and the measures dictated by their constituents. To attempt to stem the torrent of popular passion and clamour, by a policy at once firm and enlightened, must belong to representatives some- what more firmly seated than any to be found in Con- f^ess. Public men in other countries may be the para- sites of the people, but in America they are necessarily so. Independence is impossible. They are slaves, and feel themselves to be so. They must act, sjioak, and vote according to the will of their master. Lot these men hide their chains as they will, still they are on their limbs, galling their flesh, and impeding their motions ; and it is, perhaps, the worst and most demoralizing result of this detestable system, that every man ambitious of popular favour is compelled to adopt a system of reser- vation. He keej s a set of exoteric dogmas, which may be changed or modified to suit the Avhim or fashion of the moment. But there are esoteric opinions, very dif- ferent from any thing to be found in state documents, or speeches in Congress, or fourth of July orations, which embody the convictions of the man, and which are not to be surrendered at the bidding of a mob. I speak now of minds of the higher order. The major- rity of Congress are fitted for nothing better than what they arc. God meant them to be tools, and they are so. But there are men among them qualified to shine in a higher sphere ; who stand prominently out among the meaner spirits by whom they are surrounded, and would be distinguished in any country by vigour, acti- vity, and comprehension of thought. These men must feel, that to devote their great powers to suj)port and illustrate the prejudices of the ignorant and vulgar, is to divert their application from those lofty purposes for which they were intended. It cannot be without a sense of degradation that they are habitually compelled to bear part in the petty squabbles of Congrets — to enter keenly T IP 290 BURKE. I a into the miserable contests for candle-ends and ciiooso- parings — to become the cats'-paws of sectional cupidity — to dole out prescribed opinions — to dazzle with false glitter, and convince with false reasoning — to flatter the ignorant, and truckle to the base — to have no object of ambition but the oflices of a powerless executive — to find no field for the exercise of their higher faculties — to know theyare distrusted, and, judging from the men with whom they mingle, to feel they ought to be so. It is to be wished that the writings of Burke were bettor known and appreciated in America. Of all mo- dern statesmen, Burke brought to the practical duties of legislation the most gifted and philosophical mind. In an age prolific in great men, he stood confessedly the greatest ; and while the eftbrts and the eloquence of his contemporaries were directed to overcome mere tempo- rary emergencies, Burke contemplated the nobler achieve- ment of vindicating unanswerably the true principles of enlightened government, and bequeathing to posterity the knowledge by which future errors might be avoided, and future diflRculties overcome. It is this loftiness of purpose which constitutes the lead- ing distinction of Burke, when compared with contem- porary or succeeding statesmen. They spoke for the present ; he for all times, present and future. Their wisdom was directed to meet the immediate perils and exigencies of the state ; his to establish great and me- morable principles, by which all perils and all diflftculties might be successfully encountered. The consequence has been, that while their words have passed away, his endure, and exert a permanent and increasing influence on the intellect of mankind. Who now resorts for lessons in political wisdom to the speeches of North, or Chatham, or Pitt, or Fox ? but where is the statesman who would venture to profess himself unread in those of Burke ? That the opinions of this great political philosopher were sometimes erroneous may be admitted; yet it may BURIvE. 291 truly be said that they wore never foimtlud on mere nar- row views of temporary expediency, and that his errors were uniformly those of a grand and glorious intellect, scarcely less splendid in failure than in triumph. The nature of the connexion which ought to exist between the representative and his constituents, and the duties it imposes, are finely illustrated in the final ad- dress of Burke to the electors of Bristol. It were well if the people, both of England and America, would read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the following roble passages, not more remarkable for their wisdom and elo- quence, than for their tone of dignified independence " It is the duty of the representative," says this memi>- rablo man, "to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satis- factions, to his constituents. But his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, or any set of men living. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which lie is deeply answerable. Your representative owes yoUj not his industry only, but his judgment, and he betrays INSTEAD OF SERyi^GrYOV,if he Sacrifice it to your opinion." Again — " If government were a matter of will upon any side, yours, without question, ought to be superior. But government and legislation are matters of reason and judgment, not of inclination. And what sort of reason is that, in which the determination precedes the discussion ; in which one set of men deliberate and another decide; emd where those who form the conclusion are perhaps three hundred miles distantfrom those who hear the arguments?" Onco more — " Authoritative instructions, mandates, which the mem- ber is bound blindly and implicitly to obey; these are things unknown to the laws of this land, and which arise from A FUNDAMENTAL MISTAKE OF THE WHOLE ORDER AND TENOR OF OUR CONSTITUTION. Parliament is not a Congress of Ambassadors from different States, and with ( y. 292 ELECTION OF PRESIDENT. i [ h * ,■ hostile interests, which interests each must maintain as an agent against other agents; hut Parliament is a delibe- rate assembly o/one nation, with one interest, and that of the lohole. You choose a member indeed ; ^ut wlion you have chosen him, he is not member for Bristol, but he is a member of Parliament." There is another evil connected with the practical working of the constitution, to which T feel it necessary briefly to advert. The election of the President affects so many interests and partialities, and apj^eals so strongly to the passions of the people, that it is uniformly attended ■with a very injurious disturbance of the public tranquil- lity. The session of Congress immediately preceding the election, is chiefly occupied by the manoeuvres of both parties to gain some advantage for their favourite candidate. The quantity of invective expended on men and measures is enormously increased. The ordinary business of the country is neglected. Motions are made, and enquiries gone into, in the more hoite that some- thing may be discovered Avhich party zeal may convert into a weapon of attack or defence. In short, the legis- lature of a great nation is resolved into electioneering committees of rival candidates for the Pre idency. Out of doors, the contest is no less keen. From one extremity of the Union to the other the political warcry is sounded. No quarter is given on either side. Every printing-press in the United States is engaged in the conflict. Reason, justice, charity, the claims of age and of past services, of high talents and unspotted inte- grity, are forgotten. No lie is too malignant to be employed in this unhallowed contest, if it can but serve the purpose of deluding, even for a moment, the most ignorant of mankind. No insinuation is too base ; no equivocation too mean ; no artifice too paltry. The world affords no parallel to the scene of political depra- vity exhibited periodically in this free country. In England, I know it will be believed that this pic- POLITICAL DEPRAVITY. 293 ture is ovorcliarged, that it is utterly impossible that any Christian community can be disgraced by scenes of such appalling atrocity. It may be supposed too, that in getting up materials for the charge, I have been compelled to go back to the earlier period of the constitu- tion — to the days of Adams and Jefferson, when the struggle of men was the struggle of great principles, and the people were yet young and unpractised in the enjoy- ment of that liberty which they had so bravely earned. Of either hypothesis I regret to say that it is more charitable than true. I speak not of the United States as they were, but as they are. Let the moral character of the past generation of Americans rest with them undisturbed in their graves. Our business at present is with living men, and it is these who are now charged, not by me, but by loriters of their own age and country j with the offences I have dQscribed. " Party spirit," says the late Governor Clinton, in his annual message to the legislature in 1828, quoted by Captain Hall, " has entered the recesses of retirement, violated the sanctity of female character, invaded the tranquillity of private life, and visited with severe inflic- tions the peace of families. Neither elevation nor humi- lity has been spared, nor the charities of Ufe, nor distin- guished public services, nor the fireside, nor the altar, been left free from attack ; but a licentious and destroying spirit has gone forth, regardless of every thing but the gratification of malignant feelings and imworthy aspi- rations. The causes of this portentous mischief must be found, in a great measure, in the incompetent and injudicious provisions relative to the office of chief magistrate of the Union." In the American Annual Register, published at New York, for the years 1828 and 1829, a work of great merit and impartiality, the editor, in narrating the cir- cumstances of the last Presidential election, thus writes: — " Topics were introduced tending still more to in- 294 EVILS OF AN ELECTIVE CHIEF MAGISTRACY. flame the public mind, and to prevent it from forming an unbiassed judgment upon continuing the existing policy of the country. In the excited state of jiopular feeling the character and services of both candidates were overlooked ; and even Congress, in more instances than one, by a party vote, manifested that it had for- gotten that some respect was due to the high and hon- ourable station held by one of the cf"^didates. " The example thus given by men » whose character and station better things might ha^ n expected, was not without its effect upon the community. In conduct- ing the political discussions which followed the adjourn- ment of Congress, both truth and propriety were set at defiance. The decencies of private life toere disregarded; conversation and correspondence, which should have been confidential, were brought before the public eye ; the ruth- less warfare was carried into the bosom of domestic life ; neither age nor sex loas spared : the daily press teemed with ribaldry and falsehood : and even the tomb was not held sacred from the rancorous hostility which distinguish- ed the Presidential election of 1SB8." I shall certainly not endeavour, by any observations of my own, to heighten the sentiment of disgust which such extraordinary revelations are calculated to excite. If I know my own motives, I allude to them at all, not with the contemptible and unworthy object of lowering the character of the American people in the eyes of my countrymen — not to afford a paltry triumph to those in whose eyes freedom is a crime, and despotism a virtue ; but because it is due to truth and justice, and nearly concerns the political welfare of other nations, that the practical results of the constitution of the United States should be known. In all previous experience, an elective chief magis- tracy — it matters not whether the object of contention be the throne of a King, or the chair of a President — has been found incompatible with the peace and welfare of a stirri sions to t its a decit calui impo and EVILS OF AN ELECTIVE CHIEF MAGISTHACT. 295 of a community. The object is too high and spirit- stirring ; it appeals too strongly to the hopes and pas- sions of men ; it affects too many interests, not to lead to the employment of every available instrument for its attainment. In some circumstances the contest is decided by physical force ; in others, by Itdsehood, calumny, and those artifices >)y which cunning can impose upon ignorance. B'ood flows in the one case, and the land is desolated by civil war ; character, moral dignity, and the holiest charities of life, are sacrificed in the other. One thing is certain. In the United States the expe- riment of an elective executive has been tried under the most favourable circumstances. The population is diffused over a vast extent of surface, and therefore less subject to be influenced by those delusions and impulses by which masses of men are liable to be misled. There exists in America no great and absorbing question of principle or policy by which the feelings or the prejudices of men are violently excited. On the contrary, the general character of public measures has long ceased to furnish any broad or distinct grounds of dispute ; and the contest, however vehement, has been that of rival politicians rather than of contending principles. More- over, in the United States, a class of men condemned by uncontrollable causes to the sufierings of abject poverty is unknown. The means of subsistence are profusely spread every where, and the temptations to crime comparatively small. Let it be remembered, therefore, that it is under such circumstances, and among a people so situated, that the experiment of periodically electing the chief officer of the commonwealth has been tried and has failed. It is true, indeed, that while confessing the grossness of the failure, many Americans would willingly attri- bute it to the injudicious provisions for the collection of the national suffrage. But the evil lies deeper. \w I 296 SUPREME COURT. However the electoral body may be formed, an abun- dant field must always be left for the exercise of trickery and intrigue. The passions and prejudices of men must always be too deeply interested in the distribution of this high patronage for the continuance of public tran- quillity. Slander, caluuniy, and the innumerable atro- cities which have hitberto disgraced the Presidential elections, will continue to burst their floodgates, and svroad contamination through the land ; and should a period of strong political excitement arrive, when men shall bo arrayed, not in demonstration of mere personal partialities, but in support of conflicting principles con- nected with their immediate interests, I confess that I, at least, can iind nothing in the American constitution on which to rest a hope for its permanence. not Supi proc of V of p CHAPTER XV. WA8HIN0T0X. In the basement story of one of the wings of the Capitol is the hall of the Supreme Court of the United States. It is by no means a large or handsome apart- ment ; and the lowness of the ceiling, and the circum- stance of its being under ground, give it a certain cellar dike aspect, which is not pleasant. This )*» per- haps unfortunate, because it tends to create in the spectator the impression of justice being done in a corner ; and that, while the business of legislation is carried on with all the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious debate, in halls adorned with the utmost skill of the architect, the administration of men's rights is considered an affair of secondary importance. Though the American law courts are no longer con- taminated by wigs, the partiality for robes would appear SUPREME COURT. 297 not yet to be wholly extinct. The judges of the Supreme Court wear black Geneva gowns ; and the proceedings of this tribunal are conducted witli a degree of propriety, both judicial and forensic, which leaves nothing to be desired. I certainly witnessed none of those violations of public decency which in the State Courts are matters of ordinary occurrence. There was no lounging either at the bar or on the bench ; nor was it apparently considered necessary to sink the gentleman in the lawyer, and assume a deportment in the discharge of professional duty which would not be tolerated in private society. The Supreme Court consists of seven judges, re- movable only by impeachment, and possesses a federal jurisdiction over the Avhole Union. It sits annually in Washington for about two months, and is alone compe- tent to decide on questions connected with the constitu- tion or laws of the United States. Though possessing original jurisdiction in a few cases, its chief duties con- sist in the exercise of an appellate jurisdiction from the Circuit Courts, which are held twice a-yoar in the different States. It would be tedious to enumerate the various cases in which the federal Courts, in their three gradations of Supreme, Circuit, and District, exercise an exclusive or concurrent jurisdiction. It is enough that it should be generally understood that the Supreme Court is the sole expounder of the written constitution , and when we consider hov open this important instrument has been proved to diversity of interpretation — what oppo- site meanings have been put upon its simplest clauses, and, in short, that the Constitution is precisely whatever four judges of this court may choose to make it, it will be seen how vitally important is the power with which it has been entrusted, and how difficult must be its exercise. But the difticulties of the Supreme Court do not end here. Its jurisdiction extends not over a homogeneous A 298 SUPREME COURT — ITS JURISDICTION. f population, but a variety of (listinct coinrnunitios, l)om under different laws, and adopting difl'erent forms in their administration. Causes before the State Courts, in whieli the laws of the United States arc even eoUaterally involved, are removable by writ of error to the Supremo federal Court, and the decision of the State Court may bo affirmed or reversed. In the latter ease, a mandate is issued directing the State Court to conform its judgment to that of the Supreme Court. But the state tribunal is at perfect liberty to disregard the mandate, should it think proper ; for the princi|)io is established, that no one court can command another, but in virtue of an authority resting on express stipulation, and it is the duty of each judicature to decide how far tl:.* * authority has been constitutionally exercised. Then the legislatures of different States have found it occasionally convenient to pass laws for the ])urpose of defrauding their foreign creditors ; while in the ease of Great Britain at least, the Federal Government is bound by express treaty that no lawful impediment shall be interposed to the recovery of the debts due by American citizens to British subjects. Under such circumstances, the federal court, backed by the whole honest portion of the people, certainly succeeded in putting a stop to the organized system of state swindling adopted by Ken- tucky after the late war ; but awkward circumstances occurred, and the question may yet be considered practi- cally undecided, whether the state legislatures possess a controlling power over the execution of a judgment of the Supreme Court. Should a case occur, as is far from improbable, in which the federal legislature and judiciary are at variance, it would, no doubt, be the duty of the latter to declare every unconstitutional act of the former null and void. But under any circumstances, the Court has no power of enforcing its decrees. For instance, let us take the LAWYERS OP SUPREME COURT. 299 Indian question, and suppose, that in defiance of treaties, Georgia should persist in deelurin]f^ the Creek and Che- rokee Indians subject to the state laws, in order to force them to migrate beyond the Mississippi. The Indians appeal to the Supreme Court, and (lemand protection from unprincipled violence. The Court recognizes their rights, and issues its mandate, which is just, so much waste pa])er, unless the Government choose to send a military force along with it, which neither the present Congress nor the executive would be inclined to do. With all its sources of weakness, however, the United States Court is a wise institution. It is truly the sheet anchor of the Union ; and the degree of respect in which it': decrees are held, may be considered as an exact index of the moral strength of the compact by which the discordant elements of the federal commonwealth are kept together. The most distinguished lawyers of the Union practise in the Supreme Court, and I had there an opportunity of hearing many of the more eminent members of Con- gress. During my stay there was no Jury trial, and the proceedings of the Court consisted chiefly in delivering judgments, and in listening to legal arguments from the bar. The tone of the speeches was certainly very different from any thing T had heard in Congress. The lawyers seemed to keep their declamation for the House of Representatives, and in the Supremo Court spoke clearly, logically, and to the point. Indeed, I was more than once astonished to hear men, whose speeches in Congress were rambling and desultory in an extreme degree, display, in their forensic addresses, great legal acuteness, and resources of argument and illustration of the first order. In addressing the bench, they seemed to cast aside their vicious peculiarities, and spoke, not like schoolboys contending for a prize, but like men of high intellectual powers, solicitous not to dazzle but to convince. 300 THE PRESIDENT. I j A few days after the interview already mentioned, I received the honour of an invitation to dine with the President. It unfortunately happened, that on the day indicated, I was already engaged to meet a party at Mr Van Buren's ; and, on enquiring the etiquette on such occasions, I was informed that an invitation from the President was not held to authorize any broach of engagement to the leading member of the Cabinet. The President, however, having politely intimated that he received comjiany every evening, I ventured, along with a distinguished member of the House of Repre- sentatives, to present myself, on one occasion, at the " White House."* We found the President had retired with a headache ; but in a few minutes he appeared, though, from the heaviness of his eye, evidently in a state of considerable pain. This, however, had no influence on his conver- sation, which was sjiirited, and full of vivacity. He informed us that he had been unwell for several days, and having the fatigues of a levee to encounter on the following evening, he had retired early in order to recruit for an occasion which required the presence of all his bodily powers. When this subject was dismissed, the conversation turned on native politics, the Indian question, the powers of the Supreme Court, and a recent debate in the Senate, which had excited considerable attention. Of the opinions expressed by this distinguished per- son, it would be unpardonable were I to say any thing ; but I heard them with deep interest, and certainly con- sidered them to be marked by that union of boldness and sagacity, which is generally supposed to form a pro- minent feature of his character. General Jackson spoke like a man so thoroughly convinced of the justice of his views, that he announced them unhesitatingly and with- • The PrcBldent's house is very generally so designated in Wash ington. ^president's i ; and one individual, I njmember — Ciitlu'r ji miller or a baker — who, wherever ho pfissed, left marks of contact on the garmcsnts of the com]>any. "J'Ikj most prominent group, however, in the asscrmblago, was a party of Irish labourers, employ«!d on some neighbour- ing canal, who had (ividently hv.on apt scholars in tho doctrine of liberty and efjuality, and were df^terminod, on the present occasion, to assiirt the full privilege's of "the great mi washed." I renuirked these men y)ushing aside tlu; more respectable })ortion of the (;ompany with a certain jocidar audacity, which put one in mind of the humours of Donnybrook. A party, composed of the mat(!rials I have d(!seribed, could possess but few .attractions. The heat of tho apartmc!nt was very greai, and the odours — ce(!ts in acknowledgment jf a kindness for which I really felt grateful, I might be at liberty to d(![)art, My progress, however, was slow, for the company in the exterior saloons were wedged together in a m.'iss, penetrable only at occasional intervals. I looked every where for the President as I passed, but without success ; but at length a friend, against whom I happencnl to be jostled, informed me that I should find him at the ex- tremity of the most distant apartment. The information was correct. There stood the Pre- sident, whose looks still indicated indisposition, paying one of the severest penalties of greatness ; compelled t^) talk when he had nothing to say, and shake hands with men whose very appearance suggested the precaution of a glove. I must say, however, that under these un- pleasant circumstances, he bore himself well and grace- OBSERVATIONS. 303 ftilly. His countcnanno expressed perfect good-humour ; and his manner to the ladies was so full of well-bred gallantry, that having, as I make no doubt, the great majority of the fair sex on his side, the ehanee of his being unseated at the next election must be very small. I did not, however, remain long a spectator of the scene. Having goru; through th(! ordinary c(jremonial, I scrambled out of tlie (Towfl the best way I could, and bade farewell to the most (extraordinary scene it had ever })een my fortune; to witness. It is only fair to state, however, that during my stay in Washington, I never heard the President's l(!vee mention(;d in com- pany without an expression of indignant feeling on the part of the ladies at the circumstances I have narrated. To the bett(;r order of Americans, indeed, it cannot but be painful that their wives and daughters should thus be (!omf)elled to mingh; with the very lowest of the peoj)le. Yet the evil, whatever may be its extent, is in truth the necessary result of a form of govcrrmient essentially demo-;ratic. Wherevcir universal suffrage ])revails, the people are, and must be, the solo depositary of jiolitical power. The American President well knows that his only chance of continuance in office consists in his con- ciliating the favour of the lowest — and therefore most numerous — ord(!r of his constituents. The rich and intelligent are a small minority, and their opinion he may despise. The i)Oor, the uneducated, are, in every country, the people. It is to them alone that a public man in America can look for the gratification of his ambition. They are the ladder by which he must mount, or be content to stand on a level with his fellow- men. Under such circumstances, it is impossible there should be any exclusion of the real governors of the country wherever they may think proper to intrude. Gene- ral Jackson is quite aware that the smallest demonstra- tion of disrespect, even to the meanest mechanic, might l\ I 304 CHARACTERISTIC SCENE. il incur the loss of his popularity in a whole neighbour- hood. It is evident, too, that the class in actual pos- session of the political patronage of a community, is in effect, whatever be their designcation, the first class in the state. In America, this influence belongs to the poorest and least educated. Wealth and intelligence are compelled to bend to poverty and ignorance — to adopt their prejudices — to copy their manners — to sub- mit to their government. In short, the order of reason and common sense is precisely inverted ; and while the roots of the political tree are waving in the air, its branches arc buried in the ground. During the time I was engnged at the levee, my servant remained in the hall through which lay the entrance to the apartments occupied by the company, and on the day following he gave me a few details of a scone somewliat extraordinary, but sufficiently cha- racteristic to merit record. It appeared that the refresh- ments intended for the company, consisting of punch and lemonade, were brought by the servants, with the intention of reaching the interior saloon. No sooner, however, were these ministers of Bacchus descried to be approaching by a portion of the company, than a rush was made from within, the whole contents of the trays were seized, in transitu, by a sort of coup-de main ; and the bearers having thus rapidly achieved the distribu- tion of their refreshments, had nothing for it but to return for a fresh supply. This was brought, and quite as compendiously dispatched, and it at length became apparent that, without resorting to ome extraordinary measures, it would be impossible to accomplish the intended voyage, and the more respectable portion of the company would be suffered to depart with dry palates, and in utter ignorance of the extent of the hospitality to which they were indebted. The butler, however, was an Irishman ; and in order to baffle further attempts at intercepting the supplies, had nuity them kept such antici from laugh their , Ws is disf -TT:^ SLAVERY IN WASHINGTON. 305 had recourse to an expedient marked by all the inge- nuity of his countrymen. He procured an escort, armed them with sticks, and on his next advance these men kept flourishing their shillelahs around the trays with such alarming vehemence, that the predatory horde, who anticipated a repetition of their plunder, were scared from their prey, and, amid a scene of execrations and laughter, the refreshments thus guarded accomplished their journey to the saloon in safety ! Washington, the seat of government of a free people, is disgraced by slavery. The waiters in the hotels, the servants in private families, and many of the lower class of artisans, are slaves. While the orators in Congress are rounding periods about liberty in one part of the city, proclaiming, alto voce, that all men are equal, and that " resistance to tyrants is obedience to God," the auctioneer is exposing human flesh to sale in another ! I remember a gifted gentleman in the Representatives, who, in speaking of the Senate, pronounced it to be "the most enlightened, the most august, and most imposing body in the world ! " In regard to the extent of imposition, I shall not speak ; but it so happened that. the d?y was one of rain, and the effect of the eulogium was a good deal injured by recollecting that an hour or two before, the members of this superlatively enlightened and august body were driven to the Capitol by slave coachmen, who were at that very moment wait- ing to convey them back when the rights of man had been sufiiciently discussed for the day. I trust I do not write on this painful subject in an in- sulting spirit. It may be admitted that the existence of slavery in the United States is far less the fault than the misfortune of the people. The present generation were born Avith the curse upon them ; they are the involuntary inheritors of a patrimony of guilt and misery, and are con- demned to pay the penalty of that original sin, which has left a deep tarnish on the memory of our common ancestors. u 306 AMERICAN INCONSISTENCY. But that slavery should exist in the district of Columbia — that even the footprint of a slave should be suffered to contaminate the soil peculiarly consecrated to Free- dom — that the very shrine of the Goddess should be polluted by the presence of chains and fetters, is, per- haps, the most extraordinary and monstrous anomaly to which himian inconsistency — a prolific mother — has given birth. The man who would study the contradictions of individual and national character, and learn by how wide an interval profession may be divided from per- formance, should come to Washington. He will there read a new page in the volume of human nature ; he will observe how compatible is the extreme of physical liberty with bondage of the understanding. He will hear the words of freedom, and he will see the prac- tice of slavery. Men who sell their fellow-creaturos will discourse to him of indefeasible rights ; the legis- lators, who truckle to a mob, Avill stun him with profes- sions of independence ; he will be taught the affinity between the democrat and the tyrant ; he will look for charters, and find manacles ; expect liberality, and be met by bigotry and prejudice ; — in short, he will pro- bably return home a wiser, if not a better, man — more patient of inevitable evils — more grateful for the bless- ings he enjoys — better satisfied with his own country and government — less disposed to sacrifice the present good for a contingent better. In Washington there is little to be done in the way of sight-seeing. There is a theatre, which I was too much occupied to visit. The churches have nothing to attract observation. The Patent office contains models of all the mechanical inventions of this ingenious people, and their number is more remarkable than their value. In a thinly-peopled country men are thrown upon their individual resources. Where labour cannot be com- manded, it is natural they should endeavour to strike PORTR.UTS OP INDIAN CHIEFS. 307 out contrivances by which it may he economized. The misfortune i>, that each man being ignorant of what has been effected by others, finds it necessary to begin de novo. He invents, takes out a patent, and then pro- bably discovers that the same thing had been better done before. In the Secretary of State's office is an apartment containing portraits of all the Indian chiefs who have visited Washington. The portraits are ill executed, but full of character ; and tl.e collection is interesting, as exhibiting the last and only memorial of men, great in their generation, but without ])oet or historian to perpetuate the memory of their greatness. Many of the countenances are full of noble expression, and bear the impress of n wild but tranquil grandeur. Others are of dark, savage, and ferocious aspect, with an eye full of cunning, and a stern inflexibility of muscle, which seems to say, " I slay, and spare not." A few are expressi\e of mildness and benevolence; and when I remembered the melaacholy history of this fated race, and the hopeless contest they are compelled to wage with civilized rapacity, I folt it impossible to gaze on these records ot their lineaments without pain. My visit to Wasliington brought with it the advan- tage of forming acqiiaintanvje with many distinguished individuals, of some of whom I would now willingly be permitted to record my impressions. First in rank is Mr Calhoun, the Vice-President of the United States. This gentleman was formerly a candidate for the Presi- dency, but resigned his pretensions in favour of General Jackson. Subsequent differences, however, with that eminent person, have produced a separation of their interests, and it is not generally supposed that he has much chance of succeeding at the next election. Mr Calhoun is about the middle height, spare, and some- what slouching in person. His countenance, though not handsome, is expressive, ai.d enlivened by a certaiu 308 Mil CALHOUN — Mil LIVINORTONK. I i vivacity of oyo wliidi niij^ht rmlooui plaiiMM* foatiircs. lliM head \s lar^c, atih(Mi(l. In (!onv<'rNati»)n h(i in |)l«;af*aiit, and n.'inark- al)Iy i'voA> froin that do/i^inatiHiii which constitutoH not tho I<;aMt of th(! social siriH of ArncrictanM. Mr ('alhoun cvi- dontiy di.srr atid moth; of Mpcakin^ indi(rat(! rapidity of thought; and it struck in of le»«i ontIiiJsia«m would liav-'' NEW ORLEANS STEAM-BOATS. 327 There is a kind of native humour about them >']iich is very pleasant ; and, I must say, that several Kentucky gentlemen were among the most agreeable companions with whom I had the good fortune to become acquainted during my tour. About a mile below Louisville are the falls, or rather rapids, of the Ohio, which, when the river is low, offer a formidable obstruction to the navigation. In order to avoid thorn, a canal has been constructed near a place called Shipping Port. The work Mas one of some difficulty, and has been executed in the most expensive manner. Owing to the quantities of sedi- ment which the river ;f;rries into it when in flood, I was sorry to learn that this fine work is considered likely to prove a failure. As the canal is only to be used, however, when the river is low, and consequently free from impurity, I cannot but think that, by the addition of floodgates, the evil might be easily remedied. The New Orleans steam-boats are of a very different description from any I had yet seen. They are of great size, and the object being to carry as large a cargo as possible- the whole vessel, properly so called, is devoted to this purpose, and the cabins for the passengers are raised in successive tiers above the main deck. The lower of these cabins is appropriated to the gentle- men. It is gonerolly spacious, and very handsomely fitted up. Three of its sides are surrounded by a gallery and veranda. Over this is the ladies' cabin, equally handsome, though smaller. On the roof of the ladies' cabin is a deck, on which the passengers may amuse themselves as they think proper. Near the forecastle, at the same elevation, is the place for the steerage pas- sengers. These vessels have V(}ry much the appearance of three-deckers, and many of them are upwards of 500 tons burden. Their engines are generally constructed on the high-pressure principle, and one or two generally blow up every seasion, sending a score or two of par- MMiM Hi 328 DEPARTURE FROM LOUISVILLE. HI:: '51: 'ill iti:, ill boiled passengers to an inconvenient altitude in the atmosphere. On the day following' we commenced our voyage, of 1500 miles, to New Orleans. The weather was delight- ful, and I now enjoyed the privilege of reading and writ- ing undisturbed in my cabin. The passengers, though coarse as heart could desire, were at least less openly and obtrusively profligate than those I have already described. There was the same scene of gambling and drinking ; but I was now able to remove from the din and the blasphemy, After leaving Louisvdlo we were nearly two days in reaching the point of junction between the Mississippi and Ohio. The latter river receives the waters of everal large tributaries — the Tenessee — the Cumbcr- lan 1 — the Wabash, &o., by which its magnitude is pro- digiously increased. We skirted the new and flourish- ing states of Indiana and Illii:ois, which I did not visit. With their facilities, agricultural and commercial, their advantages and disadvantages, their soil, their climate, their productions, the public havo already been made familiar )y writers far bettor qualified to afford instruc- tion on such matters than I pretend to be. To a traveller, whose leading objects are connected with the structure of society, there is little in a scantily peopled territory to excite speculation. He that has seen one settler in the back woods has seen a thousand. Those whom the love of lucre, and consciousness of independence, have induced to seek the recesses of the forest, who gaze daily on tlie same aspect of nature, who endure the same privations, encounter the same difficulties, and struggle by t' « ")eans, for the same ultimate reward, ca'x pr^-sent init ouo aspect of human character, and that fai 1\ok the* ivio^t a. teresting. With individuals so sio.ated, ii »i'Vt, ) ecessarily, in different portions ':S my jovmi'V, hrought into fre- quent contact. But I never voluni.arily sought them, JUNCTION OP THE OHIO AND MISSISSIPPI. 329 for I was chiefly anxious to contemplate men in their social and more extended relations, and to observe the influences, moral and political, by which the national character had been formed or modified. My steps, therefore, were directed to the city, not to the solitary shantee ; to the haunts of large masses of men, rather than to those of isolated advonturcr.i, who have yet to dispute the dominion of the forest with the bear and the panther. On the second morning after our departure from Louisville, a chaiige in the general character of the river seemed to indicate that we Avere rapidly approach- ing the Mississippi. For about fifty miles before the point of union the surrounding scenery is flat, and the breadth of the Ohio is more than dovdded, as if, from a feeling of rivalry, the river-god had expanded his waters to the utmost. On the present occasion, the Ohio had tiie advantage of being \ery full from tlie melting of the snows along the whole line of its course ; while the Mississi[>)>i, descending from higher latitudes, had experienced no such augmentation. For hours I was on the tii)toe of expectation to catch tiie first glimpse of " the father of rivers," and, with this vien', had taken up a station on tlie highest pinnacle of the forecastle. At length, when yet about five miles distant, the Mississippi, sailing along in dark and solenm grandeur, became distinctly visible. Both rivers were about two miles broad, but the expanse of the Ohio struck me as being somewhat larger than that of its more powerful rival. T do not remember any occasion on wh.icli my imagination Avas more excited. I felt, in parting with the Ohio, as if I had done injus- tice to its attractions. True, it presents but one phase of beauty, but that is of the noblest character. For a distance of nine hundred miles I had beheld it roll its clear waters, smoothly and peacefully, and I now, almost with a feehnff of re;,^ret, bade it farewell. i) HP 330 SCENERY ON THE MISSISSIPPI. It! h The Huntress kept on her way rejoicing. We pass- ed the small settlement of Cairo, standing on an isth- mus between the two rivers, and in a few minutes helield ourselves borne on the most majestic tribute of Avaters which earth pays to Ocean. It certainly appears strange that the Mississippi, after !ib 'trbing th- Ohio, presents no visible augmentation of its volume. Below the point of junction, the river is not broader than the Ohio alone. Though flowing in the same ehamjcl, the streams are not mingled. For many miles there is a distinct line of demarcation between the waters of the two rivers. Those of the Ohio are clear, while the stream of the Mississippi is ever dark and turbid. When the Mississippi is in flood, it almost d;i!ns up the Ohio, and sutlers it to occupy but a small portion of the common channel. But in other circumstances the case is different, and the Ohio constitutes, in parliamen- tary phrase, a very respectable minority. After quitting la belle riviere, as the French first desigiiJf'^d the Ohio, a traveller feels as if he had made an exchange for the worse. The scenery of the Missis- sippi is even less vari«'d than that of the Ohio. It is alro<'/i(t uniformly flat, though in the course of twelve hundred miles a few blufls and eminences do certainly occur. The wo^?'! grows down to the very margin of the riser, hah'] the timber for some hundred miles, is by no means rewi*rkable for size. As the river descends to the j^mihward, however, it is of finer growth ; and about latituenetrable by a foot traveller, and o;enerally even by a mounted one. But in the neighbourhood of the Mis- sissippi, there is almost unformly a thick undergrowth of cane, varying in height from four or five to about Ui SQUATTERS. 331 twenty feet, according to the richnessof the soil. Through this thicket of cane I should think it quite impossible to penetrate ; yet I have been assured the Indians do so for leagues together, though by what means they contrive to guide their course, where vision is manifestly impos- sible, it is not easy to understand. The steam-boats stop twice a-day to take in a sup- ply of wood for the engine. These vessels have become so numerous that a considerable number of settlers make it their business to supply them, and thus turn their labour to better account than would be found in the cultivation of the soil. K*it the climate is deadly and pestilential ; they are worn and sjillow ; and those with whom I spoke seemed to regard fevers as things of course. Medicine they have none ; and when one's eyes rested on the miserable and pallid children, and their emaciatctl parents, it was impossible not to feel compas- sion for tiiese forlorn outcasts. Outcasts they literally are. Many have fled for crimes, to a region whore the arm of the law cannot reach tl.em. Others are men of broken characters, hopes, and fortunes, who fly not from justice, but con- tempt. One man told me it was so. He had known better days. Men blamed him when he became poor. He withdrew his poverty from their sight, and came to labour amid the untrodden forests of the Mississippi. The man had been handsome, and still bore about him something of dignity. His manners were remarkably pleasing ; but my fellow-passengers assured me that he was one who could stab while he smiled. I certainly should not mu'-h have fancied encroaching on the hospi- tality of his solitary shantee. These settlers are called Squatters. They locate where they please, without troubling themselves about any title to the land they occupy. Should a rival in the business of wood-cutting choose to take up his resi- dence inconveniently near, the rifle settles the dispute. 1 332 SOCIETY IN STEAM-BOAT. i ' : i One or other becomes food for the vultures, and the market continues uninjured by competition. During the whole course of the voyage, we daily passed numbers of large arks or rafts, consisting of rough timbers, nailed together in the shape of a square box, in which the poorer proprietors of the upper country send down the produce of their land to New Orleans. These vessels were often without sails of any kind, and the only skill necessary in the navigation was to keep in the middle of the stream. Time was, and that not far dis tant, when these rafts constituted almost the only vehicles for conveying produce to the place of embarkation. In those days, a voyage to lionisvillc and back, occupii'd about nine months, and by means of steam it can now bo performed in little more than a fortnight. The api)li- cation of steam navigation to the pui'i)oses of conunerco, has indeed given a mighty impulse to the prosperity of the central states. In the niches next to that o(;cu|»ied by Mrs Trollope, the Cincinnatians should place statues of Fulton and James Watt. To the first they owe cele- brity ; to the two last, a market for their bacon and flour. Time passed on board of the steam-boat, if not plea- santly, at least tranqmlly. True, there was gambling and drinking, and wrangling land swearing ; — true, there was an utter disregard of all the decent courtesies of society : but to these things I had gradually become accustomed; for as they hourly and almost minutely " overcame us like a summer's cloud," they were no longer regarded with " special wonder." But there were some things to which I had not become accustom- ed, and one of these was slavery ; and another, eating and drinking, and holding communion with a slave- dealer. Unfortunately, the man generally occupied the place next to me at dinner ; and, strange to say, with the soul of a brute, I remarked that he performed all the func- . SLAVES AND SLAVE-DEALER. 333 tions of an ordinary American. He ate, he drank, ho voided profusion of tobacco juice, he swallowed brandy every htilf hour of the day, and passed three-fourths, both of day and night, in gambling. His poor gang of slaves were above-stairs, the men loaded with heavy chains, and the women with scarcely rags enough to serve the purposes of decency. I spoke occasionally to both, and the Avomon wore certainly the more intelli- gent. They seemed to take pride in the largeness of the prices they had formerly brought in the market ; and one, with a look of dignity, told me her master had refused thriM? hundred dollars for her. Who, after this, shall presume to say, tliiit vanity \h not an inherent attril)ute of wonuui ? The men were in a state at once wretched and dis- gusting. Their chains prevented their performing the ordinary functions of cleanliness, and their skin had become covered with a sort of scaly eru' lion. But I will not enlarge on a subject so revolting. I remem- ber, however, that no one on boai'd talked about free- dom so loudly or so long as this slave-dealer. He at length left us, and the sky seemed brighter, and tlie earth greener, after his departure. It has been tlie fashion with travellers to talk of the scenery of the Mississi})pi as wanting grandeur and beauty. Most certainly it has neither. But there is no scenery on earth more striking. The drt-ary and pesti- lential solitudes, untrodden save by the foot of the In- dian ; — the absence of all living objects, save the huge alligators which float past, apparently asleep, on the drift- wood ; and an occasional vulture, attracted by its impure prey on the surface of the waters ; — the trees, with a long and hideous drapery of pendant moss, fluttering in the wind ; and the giant river rolling onward +he vast volume of its dark and turbid waters through the wilderness — form the features of one of the most dismal and impres- sive landsca])es on v.'hich the eye of man ever rested. [ 334 SCENERY OF THE MISSISSIPPI. ¥] !i I j ! 3ii : f' I' i ' ¥ If any one think proper to believe that such objects are not, in themselves, sufficient, I beg only to say that I differ with him in point of taste. Rocks and moun- tains are fine th:i:gs undoubtedly, but they could add nothing of sublimity to the Mississippi. Pelion might be piled on Ossa, Alps on Andes, and still, to the heart and perceptions of the spectator, the Mississippi would be alone. It can brook no rival, and it finds none. No river in the world drains so large a portion of the eartli's surface. It is the traveller of five thousand miles, more than two-thirds of the diameter of the globe. The imagination asks, whence come it waters, and vvhither tend they ? They come from the dit^tant regions of a vast continent, where the foot of civilized man has ucmt yet been planted. They flow into an ocean yet vaster, the whole body of which acknowledges their influence. Through what varieties of climate have they ])assed ? On what scenes of lonely and sublime magnificence have they gazed ? Ha\ e they penetrated The hoary forests, still the Bison's screen, Where stalk'd the Mammoth to his shaggy lair, Through paths and alleys, roof d with sombre green, Thousands of years before the silent air Was pierc'd by whizzing shaft of hunter keen. In short, Avhen the traveller has asked and answered these questions, and a thousand others, it will be time enough to consider how far the scenery of the Missis- sippi would be improved by the presence of rocks and mountains. He may then be led to doubt whether any great effect can be produced by a combination of objects of discordant character, however grand in themselves. The imagination is perhaps susceptible but of a single powerful im])ression at a time. Sublimity is uni- formly connected with unity of object. Beauty may bo produced by the happy adaptation of a multitude of harmonious details ; but tlie highest sublimity of effect can proceed but from one glorious and paramount object, which impresses its own character on e\ory thing around. CHARACTER OF THE MISS SSIPPI. 335 The prevailing character of the Mississippi if* that of solemn gloom. T have trodden the passes of i\lp and Apennine, yet never felt how awful a thing is nature, till I was borne on its waters through regions desohUc and uninhabitable. Day after day, and night ; fter night, we continued driving right downward to tiie south ; our a essel, like some huge demon of tlie wilder- ness, bearing fire in her bosom, and canopying the eter- nal forest with tlx' smoke of her nostrils. How looked the hoary river-god I know not ; nor what thought the alligat -rs, when awakened from their slumber by a vision so astounding. Ikit the elloct on my own spirits was such as 1 have never experienced Ix'fore or since. Conversation became odious, and I passed my time in a sort of dreamy contemplation. At night, I ascended to the highest deck, and lay for hours gazing listlest^ly on the sky, the forest, and tlie waters, amid silence only broken by the clanging of the engine. All this was very pleasant ; yet, till I reached New Orleans, I could scarcely have smiled at the best joke in the world ; and as for raising a laugh — it would have beni (juite as easy to quadrate the circle. The navigationof the Mississippi is not unaccompanied by danger. I do not now speak of the risk of explosion, which is very considerable, but of a peril arising from what are called planters and saicyers. These are trees firmly fixed in the bottom of the river, by which vessels are in danger of being impaled. Thi distinction is, that the former stand upright in the water, the latter lie with their points directed down the stream. We had the bad luck to sustain some damage from a planter, whose head being siibmersed was of course invisible. The bends or flexures of the Mississippi are regular in a degree unknown in any other river ; indeed, so much is this the case, that I should conceive it (piite practicable for a hydrographer to make a tolerably accurate sketch of its course without actual survey. The action of run- ■ Bi IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 m m 2.2 2.0 1.4 1.6 6" C*^ ^%>. W % "•^^ V] o 7 %." Photographic Sciences Corporation A S ifv :\ y \ i>Ni.ii.i||Juuj|iii{iiip;i|^p)qfp|i«^^ PROGRESSIVE CHANGES — NATCHEZ. 337 The immense quantity of drift-wood is another cause of change. Floating logs encounter some obstacle in the river, and become stationary. The mass gradually accumulates ; the water, saturated with mud, deposits a sediment, and thus an island is formed, which soon becomes covered with vegetation. About ten years ago the Mississippi was surveyed by order of the government ; and its islands, from the confluence of the Missouri to the sea, were numbered. I remember asking the pilot the name of a very beautiful island, and the answer was Five hundred and Seventy-three, the number assigned to it in the hydrographical survey, and the only name by which it was known. But in the course of these ten years, a vast variety of changes have taken place, and a more accurate chart lias become highly desirable. A traveller on the Mississippi has little to record in the way of incident. For a week we continued our course, stopping only to take in wood, and on one occa- sion to take in cargo, at an inconsiderable place called Memphis, which stands on one of the few bluff's we encovntered in our progress. At length we reached Natchez, a town of some importance in the State of Mississippi. We only halted there foi an hour, and the upper town, which stands on a height at some distance, I did not see. But the place was described by the passengers as being tlie scene of the most open and undisguised profligacy. All I observed in the lower town, certainly gave me no reason to doubt the accuracy of the descr'ption. Taverns full of men and women of the most libandoned habits, dancing, drinking, and uttering the most obscene language, were open to the street. I was advised not to walk to any distance from the landing-place, for the risk of being robbed was consider- able. I did, however, attempt to reach the upper town, about a mile ott', but the bell aiinouncing preparation for departure arrested my progress. One of the most striking circumstances connected with 338 RAPID TRANSITION OF CLIMATE. this river voyage, was the rapid change of cHmatc. Barely ten days had elapsed since I was traversing mountains almost impassable from snow. Even the level country was partially covered with it, and the approach of spring had not been her Jded by any symptom of vegetation. Yet in little more than a week 1 found myself in the region of the sugar-cane. The progress of this transition was remarkable. Du- ring the first two days of the voyage, nothing like a blossom or a green leaf was to be seen. On the third, slight signs of vegetation were visible on a few of the hardier trees. These gradually became more general as we approached the Mississippi ; but then, though our course lay almost due south, little change was apparent for a day or two. But after passing Memphis, in lati- tude 35°, all nature became alive. The trees Avhich grew on any httle eminence, or which did not spring immediately from the swamp, were covered with foliage ; and at our wooding times, v;hen I rambled through the woods, there were a thousand shrubs already bursting into flower. On reaching the lower regions of the Mississippi, all was. brightness and verdure. Summer had already begun, and tne heat was even disagreeably intense. Shortly after entering Louisiana, all the wildness of the Mississippi disappears. The banks are cultivated, and nothing was to be seen but plantations of sugar, cotton, and rice, with the houses of their owners, and the little adjoining hamlets inhabited by the slaves. Here and there were orchards of orange-trees, but these occurred too seldom to have much influence on the landscape. At Baton Rouge, a fort of some strength, which com- mands the navigation of the river, we discharged a major and a few private soldiers of the United States army, and on the following evening T found myself at New Orleans. ^ww^spfpsir NEW ORLEANS — BOARDING-HOUSES. 339 if climate, traversins: n the level ) approach Tiiptom of k 1 found ible. Du- ing like a the third, few of the re general hough our s apparent lis, in lati- ees which not spring th foliage ; I rough the y bursting ns of the Summer sagreeably rildness of cultivated, I of sugar, vners, and he slaves. , but these ce on the hich corn- ed a major army, and (V Orleans. CHAPTER XVII. NEW ORLEANS. I LANDED at New Orleans on the evening of the 22d of March. The day had been one of heavy rain, and the appearance of the city was by no means prepossess- ing. The streets, being generally unpaved, were fiill of mud, and a dense canopy of mist shed a gloom on every thing. My companion and myself had some difficulty in finding accommodation. The principal hotel is that of Madame Herries ; but the house was already full. We tried three others with no better success, and the streets of New Orleans are perhaps the last in the world in which a gentleman would choose to take up his quarters for the night. At length the keeper of a boarding- house took compassion on our forlorn condition. There was an uninhaljitod house, she said, in an adjoining street, in which she thought the propriety' might be prevailed on to furnish us with apartments, and at meals we might join the party in her establishment. And so it was arranged. The rooms were bad, and wretchedly furnished; but they were quiet, and we had an old and ugly female slave to wait on us. This woman was in character something like the withered hags who are so finely introduced in the Bride of Lammermoor. During my stay, I tried every means to extract a smile fi-om her, but without success. I gave her money, but that would not do ; and wine, of which on one occasion she drank two tumblers, with no better effect. By way of recommending the lodgings, she told me three gentle- men had died in them of yellow fever, during the last autumn. " Two were Englishmen," she added, "and she hersehf had laid out their corpses on that very table ! " 340 APPEARANCE OF NEW ORLEANS. In short, though she did not often choose to converse, whenever the fit was on her, she displayed great tact and discrimination in the selection of topics. The morning after my arrival was bright and beauti- ful, and I sallied forth to -view the manners of thu town, Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, And wander up and down to view the city. It would be absurd to call New Orleans a handsomo city. It is not so. The streets are generally narrow, and always f'lthy ; and with the exception of the cathe- dral, there are no public buildings of any magnitude. But in comparison with such cities as those to which I had been accustomed in the United States, the general aspect of New Orleans may be called picturesque. The architecture of the older sections of the city is Spanish, and when Louisiana came into possession of France, the original taste in building seems still to have predomi- nated. The houses are generally of one story, and the principal apartment opens at once on the street. They are built of wood, but here and there edifices of greater pretension, covered with stucco, and adorned with ver- andas, give something of pleasing variety. In this quarter of the city reside the French and Spanish portion of the population ; that occupied by the Anglo-Americans, has no attraction of any kind. The streets are wider, but unpaved ; the houses larger, but bare and unseemly, and their internal superiority of com- fort has been gained at the expense of external eflfect. The condition of the streets in the greater part of New Orleans, is an absolute nuisance. There are brick trottoirSy but the carriage-way is left in a state of nature. The consequence is, that after rain — and the climate is particularly humid — the centre of the street is at least a foot thick of mud, through which foot-passengers, when desirous of crossing, must either wade up to their knees, or set off on a wildgoose- chase after stepping-stones "«y ■^^^ CHARACTER OF NEW ORLEANS. 341 • converse, it tact and ,nd beauti- handsomo ly narrow, the cathe- nagnitude. to which I he general jque. The is Spanish, ?" ranee, the 5 predomi- y, and the et. They of greater with ver- rench and )ied by the ind. The larger, but ty of com- d efTect. ter part of e are brick of nature. climate is s at least a ^ers, when heir knees, )ing-stont'S perhaps a mile distant, which may enable them — if they can jump like a kangaroo — to get over dry-shod. In other respects, I must say. New Orleans is not an uncomfortable place. The American hotels are bad ; but there is an admirable French restaurateur, whose establishment is conducted in a style far superior to any thing I had seen in the United States. When not otherwise engaged, I generally dined there, either alone, or with a companion, instead of scrambling at the public table of the boarding-house. There is an old proverb, " give a dog a bad name and hang him." The proverb is as applicable to cities as to dogs, and unfortunately New Orleans has got a bad name. I have nothing to say which can make it any worse, and perhaps not much Avhich would induce a very rigid moralist to delay execution. But I can bear witness that New Orleans contains a very well-bred and hospitable circle, where a traveller will meet with more easy politeness than in most cities of the Union. Both the language and manners are French. Few of the Creole ladies can speak English, and still fewer of the slaves. The latter jabber a sort of patois unlike any thing I ever hoard in France, though my intercourse with the French peasantry has been tolerably extensive. The situation of New Orleans is admirably adapted for commerce. It is and must be the great port of the south, as New York is of the north and centre of the Union. The Western States enjoy a ready communi- cation with both ; with the former, by the Ohio and Mississippi ; with the latter, by means of canals which now connect the Ohio with Lake Erie, and Lake Erin with the Hudson. The city stands on a bed of alluvium on the eastern bank of the Mississippi, about a hundred and twenty miles from the sea. Its population is about fifty thousand, and the number of slaves is very great. I fear the standard of morals in New Orleans cannot be rated very high. Yet in no city are the externals of ^^ 342 QUADROONS AND CREOLES. decorum more rigidly maintained. The eye is never shocked by any public display of indecency ; and the coloured women, whatever may be their laxity of prin- ciple, are careful to maintain at least the outward sem- blance of virtue. I had heard a great deal of th-^ beauty of these persons ; but cannot profess having been at all smitten with their charms. One often meets a fine figure among them, but rarely a fine countenance. The skin is dingy, and the features are coarse. Some- thing of the Negro always remains — the long heel — the woolly hair — the flat nose — the thick lips — or the pecu- liar form of the head. The Creole ladies, on the other hand, certainly struck me as handsome. They too are dark, but their complex- ion is clear, not clouded, like that of the Quadroons. Their figure is light and graceful, and with fine teeth, and an eye, large, dark, and bright, they must be admit- ted to possess quite as much attraction as the New Orleans gentlemen deserve. The eftects of this enerva- ting climate, however, are visible enough. The Creole ladies speak with a sort of languid drawl ; their motions want energy and briskness, and the efficacy of their charms might perhaps be increased by a little more ani- mation. During my stay at New Orleans the legislature was in session, and I occasionally visited both houses. The mode of proceeding struck me as curious. The Creoles speak French, and the Americans English, neither under- standing the language of the other. Whenever a speech is concluded, an interpreter gives as accurate a version of it as his memory can command. The time thus lost is enormous under any circumstances; but when the debate becomes personal, it has at least the advantage of giving members time to cool. On one occasion, however, the discussion was con- ducted with a good deal of acrimony, and the scene became ludicrous enough. A French gentleman, when i IS never and the T of prin- ard sem- d of tli'> ing been meets a itenance. Some- leel — the the peeu- ly struck complex- ladroons. ne teeth, )e admit- the New s enerva- le Creole [• motions of their nore ani- ture was 33. The e Creoles 3r under- a speech a version thus lost r^hen the ivantage tvas con- he scene in, when LEGISLATURE — THEATRES. 343 I entered the house, was delivering an eneigetic oration, impugning both the conduct and motives of an Ameri- can. The latter during the whole time remained appa- rently in happy ignorance, both of the nature and extent of the punishment of which he was the object. At length the honourable gentleman sat down, and the chief heads of his speech and arguments were detail- ed in English by the interpreter. The American then became, as they say in Scotland, " neither to hold nor to bind." He instantly commenced, not only a vehe- ment defence of himself, but an attack on his opponent in a language of which the latter seemed to understand precisely as much as he did of Sanscrit. In short, I linow of no body to whom the gift of tongues could be so useful as the legislature of Louisiana. There is a French and an Eii al men began feeling the poor woman's ribs, and putting questions as to her health. " Are you well ?" asked one man. " Oh, no, I am very ill." " Wnat is the matter with you ?" " I have a bad cough and pain in my side." " How long have you had it ?" " Three months and more " Here the auctioneer, finding such interrogatories did not tend to enhance the value of the lot, again went on. " Never mind what bhe says, gentlen>^n, I told you she was a shammer. Her health is good enough. Damn her humbug. Give her a touch or two of the cow-hide, and I'll warrant she'll do your work. Speak, gentle- mf>n, before I knock her down. Seventy dollars only bid— going going, going, gone !" The sale concluded amid sundry jests, at the expense of the purchaser. " A bloody good lot of skin and bone," said one. " I guess that 'ere Avoman will soon be food for the land-crabs," said another ; and amidst such atrocious merriment the poor dying creature was led off. If such scenes are acted in a Christian country, it is the duty of every traveller to taKe care at least that they shall not be done in a corner, that they shall be pro- y^):; SLAVERY. 349 the hos- upon the said the excellent ot. She hamming ing more moment. loUars to )llars for ank you, Here the e s( > "al I putting cries did went on. . you she Damn ow-hide, gentle- lars only oncluded jor. " A " I guess i-crabs," nient the ;ry, it is ;hat they be pro- claimed loudly to the world, and that those who per- petrate the enormitias shall receive their due meed of indignation and contempt. The time is past when it was necessary to write whole volumes, in illustration of the evils and injustice of slavery. These are now admitted and confessed by every one. They are so great as to admit of no exag- geration by elocjuence, nor of palliation or concealment by sophistry. Public opinion in England requires no stimulus. I feel anxiouj, that writing on this subject I should be clearly understood. It may not be a crime — it pro- bably ought not to be charged as one — in the American people, that slavery still exists in by far the larger portion of the territory of the Uni- n. But now, when the United States hav3 enjoyed upwards of half a century of almost unbroken prosperity — when their people, as they them- selves declare, are the most moral, the most benevolent, the most enlightened in the world — we are surely entitled to demand, what have this people done for the mitiga- tion of slavery ? what have they done to elevate the slave in the scale of moral and intellectual being, and to prepare him for the enjoyment of those privileges to which, sooner or lator, the coloured population must be admitted ? The answer to these questions unfortunately way be comprised in one word — nothing. Nothing during all this period has been done to raise the slave to the dignity of a rational and responsible being, or to mitigate the horrors of his servitude ; nothing for the subversion of ignorant and degrading prejudice ; nothing to remove from themselves and their posterity the reproach of a system which withers up all the better sympathies of our nature. The voice of justice and humanity has been raised in vidn ; and it may safely be predicted, that while the progress of in'^elligenco is confessedly incom- patible with slavery, its last stronghold will be found, n ^a^Mmi tuimfmmmm 350 SLAVERY. not in Portugal — not in Turkey or Tripoli — ^but in the United States. It is true, indeed, that slavery has been abolished in many States of the Union, and that in others recently established it has never existed,, Let the merit — what- ever be its amount — of an enlightened appreciation of their own interests, be at once freely conceded to these States. Still it cannot be denied, that slavery has only ceased in those portions of the Union, in which it was practically tbund to be a burden on the industry and resources of the country. Wherever it was found profit- able, there it has remained ; there it is to be found at the present day, in all its pristine and unmitigated ferocity. Wliere its abolition involved no sacrifice, slavery has disappeared ; but wherever justice was to be done at the expense of the purse, the nuisance, so far from being abated, has gone on increasing, and has become rooted more widely and more deeply in the habits and preju- dices of the people. I have said that the abolition of slavery in the Northern, and some of the Central States, has involved no sacrifice. Let me explain this. When Pennsyl- vania, for instance, abolished slavery, she passed an act, that after a certain nur»iber of years all the slaves within her territory should be manumitted. What was the consequence ? ' Vhy, that the great body of the slaves belonging to Pennsylvania proprietors were in the mean time exported and sold in other States, and when the day of liberation came, those who actually profited by it were something like the patients who visited the pool of Bethesda — the blind, the halt, the maimed, the decrepit, whom it really required no great exercise of generosity to turn about their business, with an injunction to provide thereafter for their own main- tenance. I admit that the question of the abolition of slavery in the United States is involved in peculiar difficulties. i'?f!r«^ ut in the )lished in J recently it — what- ciation of L to these r has only ich it was ustry and md profit- ind at the I ferocity, avery has one at the om being me rooted md preju- y in the involved Pennsyl- ed an act, i^es within was the the slaA'cs in the and when y profited isited the maimed, t exercise with an ;vn main- f slavery iffieulties, ''W^ INTERNAL SLAVE TRADE. 351 nor do I pretend to suggest any project by which it may be safely and even remotely effected. But there are some crying evils on which immediate legislation is imperiously demanded. The first of these is undoubt- edly the slave trade. When I speak of the slave trade, I do not allude to the importation of slaves from abroad, but to the internal traffic which is carried on between the different States. Some of these, in which the climate is comparatively healthy, and the 'cultivation of the soil easy, are slave- breeders, not for their own consumption only, but for that of others, in which the climate is deadly and the labour severe. The cultivation of sugar in Louisiara, for instance, is carried on at an enormous expense of human life. Planters must buy to keep up their stock, and this supply principally comes from Maryland, Vir- ginia, and North Carolina. On my return from New Orleans by the coast, I mot a whole drove of these miserable creatures, chained together like felons, and driven on like brute beasts by the lash. In God's namt let this unhallowed traffic be put a stop to! Let not men's eyes be shocked by sights so atrocious. Let not one State furnish materials for the cruelties of another ; and by a system of wise legislation let humanity be made the inierest, as it is the duty, of all. It would be difficult to decide whether slavery is more to be lamented for the injustice peqjetrated to- wards those who are its victims, or for its depraving influence on the class by whom that injustice is inflicted. The question must be decided by nicer casuists than I pretend to be. But sure I am that the horrors of this detestable system cannot be exaggerated by the most fervid imagination. It will scarcely be believed that in the United States it is common for fathers to sell their children — for sons to sell their brothers and their sisters ; and that atrocities so heinous are unvisited by public indignation or contempt. And yet it is so. The small- wmmmmmmm 352 SLAVE CODES. Ui ^■. est infusion of negro blood is held to abrogate not only the charities of life, but the ties of nature. I will not enlarge on this subject ; it is too painful and too odious. But in the name of consistency and common sense, either let such enormities cease to be perpetrated in the United States, or let the word morality be at once erased from the American vocabulary. I did intend to have made some observations on the savage character of the slave codes of the different States; but I write for the British public, and the task has become unnecessary. Still I would earnestly call on every Englishman who has partaken in the delusion, that the abolition, or even the mitigation, of slavery, may be safely trusted to the humanity of those whose immediate interests are connected with its continuance, to look to the condition of the slaves in the United States. I again re])oat that I do not charge it as a reproach on the inhabitants that slavery slu/ald still exist in their territory ; but I own I do consider it as involving national disgrace, that during half a century no steps have been taken, I will not say for its aboli- tion, but even for its mitigation. At the present hour slavery is seen in the United States decked out in every horrible attribute with which the imagination of man ever invested it ; and, after all, it is perh.'ips better for the ultimate interests of humanity that it should be so. It is better that the front of the image should be of brass, while its feet are of clay. To supj)Ose that slavery can long continue in this country, when other nations shall have freed themselves from the foulest stain which has ever polluted their hiimanity, is to contemplate a period when tlie United States will become a nuisance upon earth, and an object of hatred and derision to the whole world. It is only fair to state, that during thg whole course of my tour I never conversed with any American on the subject of slavery, without his at once admitting the m FEELING IN REGARD TO SLAVERY. 353 e not only [ will not oo odious, on sense, ted in the at once ns on the snt States; task has ly call on delusion, f slavery, )so whose itinuance, le United ^e it as a lould still (ider it as \ century its aboli- sent hour t in every n of man better for Lild be so. uld be of at slavery or nations ain which eraplate a L nuisance on to the jle course an on the itting the magnitude of the evil. The planters uniformly speak of it as a noxious exhalation by which their whole atmosphere is poisoned. " Yet what is to be done ?" they ask. " You express yourself shocked by the exist- ence of slavery ; have you formed any plan for its aboli- tion ? Can you see even a glimmering of light through the darkness by which this awful subject is surrounded ? At all events, do not suppose that we maintain slavery in our territory from choice. Far from it. We regard those states where this curse is unknown with envy. We would gladly become as they are, but cannot. We are slaveholders by compulsion alone. As such, let us be treated with candour and fairness. If you can sug- gest any remedy, we shall be glad to hear it ; if you cannot, cease to inveigh against an inevitable evil, for which the collective wisdom of mankind has yet dis- covered no cure." There is much that is reasonable in all this, mixed up with a little misrepresentation ; and as few men travel about with a plan for the abolition of American slavery, cut and dry in their pocket, it no doubt acts in conver- sation as a convenient stopper on a great deal of froth which might otherwise be discharged on so tempting a subject. But though it be unquestionably true that the slaveholders are in favour of abolition, it is abolition of a peculiar kind, which must be at once easy and pro- fitable ; which shall peril no interest, and cffend no prejudice; and which, in liberating the slave, shall enrich his master. It is needless to say that the dream of Alnaschar pictured nothing more visionary than such an abolition. Let slavery be abolished when it may, and how it may — by slow degrees, or by one sweeping and decisive measure of emancipation — the immediate interests of the planters must be injuriously affected. Ry TkB process can the .' ^justice of centuries be repaired without sacrifice ; and the longer this reparation is delayed, the sacrifice demanded will be greater. '1 354 CONSEQUENCES OF ABOLITION. The cessation of slavery must put a stop to the culti- vation both of sugar and rice in the United States, and the compulsion of which the planters speak is the com- pulsion of money. Large tracts of the Southern States will be thrown out of cultivation. Two-thirds of their po])ulation will probably migrate to the West, since the cultivation of cotton, the great staple, must of course be limited by the demands of the market, which can only receive considerable increase from improvements in the process of manufacture. That the United States, as a nation, would be pro- digiously benefited by the abolition of slavery, there can be no doubt ; but that the pecuniary interest of the planters is decidedly opposed to it, is at least equally clear. How long these men can hold out against nature, religion, and the common sympathies of mankind, it is impossible to foresee. My own conviction is, that slavery in this country can only be eradicated by some great and terrible convulsion. The sword is evidently suspended ; it will fall at last. From New Orleans I made a pleasant excursion to a sugar plantation about eight or ten miles distant. The road lay along the margin of the river, which is pre- vented from inundating the country by embankment. Through this barrier, however, it often forces its way, by what are called crevasses, or small fissures, generally occasioned, I believe, by the burrowing of crawfish or water-rats. These fissures, by the pressure of the water, soon become formidable outlets ; and the whole country, for miles, is sometimes overflowed to a depth of several feet. The Mississippi, too, occasionally over- flows its banks, though not often, I believe, to such extent as to occasion serious damage to the neighbour- ing plantations. The country is in general cultivated to the distance of about half a mile from the river, and on these rich alluvial bottoms are the sugar plantations. That which SUGAR PLANTATION. 355 the culti- States, and is the com- hern States ds of their t, since the f course be ih can only ents in the Id be pro- r^ery, there jrest of the ast equally nst nature, ikind, it is n is, that d by some 3 evidently ursion to a ant. The ch is pre- bankment. s its way, generally rawfish or re of the the whole o a depth lally over- to such leighbour- i distance ;hese rich hat which I visited, though not one of the largest, was extensive. The family were of French origin, and few of its mem- bers could speak English. The proprietor took me over the sugar-works, and I looked in to the huts of his negroes who were then in the field. He gave me full details of the whole process of sugar cultivation, which he confessed was only carried on at an appalling sacrifice of life. At the season when the canes are cut and the boilers at work, the slaves are compelled to undergo incessant labour for about six weeks. The fatigue is so great that nothing but the severest appli- cation of the lash can stimulate the human frame to endure it, and the sugar season is uniformly followed by a great increase of mortality among the slaves. The climate of Louisiana is not happily adapted for sugar cultivation. It is too variable, and frosts often come on in November which destroy the whole saccha- rine matter of the canes. This had happened the season before my visit, and I saw the canes of nearly half the estate rotting on the ground. The crop in Louisiana is never considered safe till it is in the mill, and the consequence is, that when cutting once begins, the slaves are taxed beyond their strength, and are goaded to labour until nature absolutely sinks under the effort. The poverty of the planters, too, generally prevents there being a sufficient stock of slaves on the estates ; and where a plantation which requires two hundred and fifty slaves, is cultivated only by two hundred, it is very evident that the necessary work will not only be done worse, but that it will be done at a greatly in- creased expenditure of human life. Thus the tendency of the slave population in Louisiana is to diminish, and, but for importations from the northern slave states, would, under the present system, become extinct. I passed a day and night with my hospitable enter- tainers, to whose kindness I felt much indebted. It is the fashion iu this country to appoint a servant to attend ■ l!J ■■t\\ II I! I J n < 356 DELTA OF THE MISSISSIPPI. upon the guests. When I retired for the night, I ob- served a very nice-looking black boy, who, after setting down my candle and adjusting the pillows of the bed, still remained standing right opposite to me when I began to undress. I bade him good-night, but he still showed no inclination to move. I then asked why he remained, and gathered from his reply that it is by no means usual in this country for a white person to per- form any office for himself which can be performed by deputy. The boy said he thought I should like some one to assist me to undress, but I assured him I had no occasion for his services in any capacity except that of brushing my clothes in the morning. He then took leave, though evidently not without some surprise that a white gentleman should, under any circumstances, condescend to pull off his own stockings, and put on his nightcap. It must certainly be ranked among the minor evils of slavery, that it destroys all personal indepen- dence, and attaches something of disgrace to the dis- charge of the most ordinary functions. Before quitting New Orleans I made a trJp to visit the Delta of the Mississippi, in one of the steamers employed in towing vessels to and from the mouth of the river. Though with three large vessels attached, our bark made good way under the co-operative influ- ences of steam and stream. About seven miles below the city is the field of battle. It is a plain about half a mile in breadth, bounded by the Mississippi on one side, and the forest on the other. Below is a bend of the river, which, from what reason I know not, is called " The English Turn." Plantations continue at intervala for about forty miles, when cultivation entirely ceases. Below this, nature is to be seen only in her dreariest and most desolate aspect. At first there are forests springing in rank luxuriance from swamps, impassable even by the foot of the Indian hunter. But these soon pass, and nothing but interminable cane-brakes are to night, I ob- ifter setting of the bed, me when I but he still ked why he it is by no son to per- rformed by 1 like some m I had no )ept that of then took Lirprise that 3umstances, I put on his J the minor il indepen- to the dis- r:p to visit e steamers e mouth of 9 attached, ative influ^ niles below about half ppi on one s a bend of 3t, is called at intervals sly ceases. iT dreariest are forests impassable these soon bkes are to ITS APPEARANCE — RETURN TO NEW ORLEANS. 357 be seen on either side. From the shrouds of the steam- boat, though the range of vision probably extended for many leagues, no objects were discernible but the broad muddy river, with its vast masses of drift-wood, and the wilderness of gigantic bulrushes shaking in the wind. There are four passes or outlets by which the Mis- sissippi discharges its mighty burden into the Gulf of Mexico. Two of these are navigable, but changes are ever taking place, and the passage formerly preferred by the pilots, is now rarely attempted even by vessels of the smallest class. On approaching the Gulf, verdure appears only at intervals, and the eye rests on tracts of mere mud, formed by the deposit of the river on the drift-wood which some obstacle has arrested in its pas- sage to the ocean. It is by this process that land is formed, and it may be traced in every step of its pro- gress, from the island resting on a few logs, up to the huge tract in whose bosom are embedded many millions. Encountering no obstacle, the river sends out arms in every direction, which, after winding through the half- formed region in a thousand fantastic flexures, are again united to the main branches. It would be difficult to convey an idea by words, of the eifect which this most dismal scene produces on the heart and imagination of the spectator. It seems as if the process of creation were incomplete, and the earth yet undivided from the Avaters ; for he beholds only an indeterminate mass which admits of being absolutely assigned to neither element. He feels that he has for- saken the regions of the habitable world. Above, be- neath, around, there is nothing to excite his sympathies, and probably for the first time in his life he becomes conscious of the full sublimity of desolation. The steamer having towed her burden safely across the bar, took up several inward bound vessels, and commenced her voyage back to the city. I felt it absolutely a relief when my eye again rested on the 1 1 1 ■ I I' 111 ■i I I i 358 DEPARTUBE PROM NEW ORLEANS. deep shadows of the forest. Then came the dwellings of man. Never had the smoke, which rose in spiral wreaths above the masses of foliage, appeared so beauti- ftil. Even New Orleans seemed to have lost something of its dinginess, when, after a three days' voyage, I found myself comfortably seated at the French restaura- teur's, and saw the waiter enter with a most tempting dish of beccaficas, or some bird very much like them, and very nearly as good. CHAPTER XVIII. JOCRUBY to CHARLESTON. On the evening of the 10th of April I bade farewell to New Orleans, and embarked on the canal which connects the city with the Bayou St John. These bayous are sluggish creeks, which alternately supply nourishment to the Mississippi, and ease it of its load. When the river is in flood, the bayous, which intersect the whole country, act as safety-valves, and prevent a general inundation. When it is low, they restore a por- tion of their waters, and thus contribute to equalize the volume of the rivei at different seasons. The Bayou St John has all the appearance of a canal. Its course leads through a swamp covered with cedars, and other trees which delight in exuberant moisture. It was dark when we reached Lake Pontchartrain, and the steamer lay at anchor at some distance from the shore. As it did not sail till the following morning, I should probably have slept at the inn had its appearance been at all inviting. But there was a large party carousing at the bar, and its pretensions were simply those of a pot-house. I therefore determined to embark imme- diately, though the night was dark, and the wind unusually high. 1. LAKE PONTCHARTRAIN— LAKE BORGNE. 359 5 dwellings e in spiral so beauti- something voyage, I h restaura- t tempting like them, le farewell inal which n. These Bly supply )f its load. h intersect prevent a tore a por- ][ualize the of a canal, th cedars, ►isture. It n, and the the shore. , I should ance been carousing hose of a rk imme- the wind It may appear ridiculous to talk of a storm on a lake some forty or fifty miles long, and not more than two or three in breadth. But the tempestas in matula — if so it must be called — was exceedingly disagreeable, and before we reached the vessel, our boat was nearly full of water. Both the constitution and equanimity of a tra- veller should be robust enough to stand an occasional drenching without injury or disturbance ; but to have your whole baggage saturated with water — your books, papers, and other perishable valuables, seriously damaged, if not entirely destroyed, is apt to produce an elongation of visage in tourists more philosophical than myself. At all events it was in such a pickle that I reached the steam-boat. The more immediate and personal con- sequences of the misfortune were obviated by the exhi- bition of a cigar, and a glass of truly American catholicon, brandy and water ; and on the following morning the whole of my chattels were spread out to dry on the deck, apparently to the great satisfaction of several curious passengers, who not only subjected the state of my ward- robe to a rigid inspection, but attempted to read my papers, a compliment which I begged leave to decline. From Lake Pontchartrain we passed into Lake Borgne, a basin of similar character, and equally devoid of beauty. Both are surrounded by vast marshes, and the view on every side is dreary and monotonous. On a projection at the narrow pass by which these lakes are united, is a fort garrisoned by a company of the United States' army. A more wretched place it is impossible to conceive. The climate is among the most villanous in the world ; and an officer who happened to be a passen- .ger, and had once for three years jnjoyed the pleasures of this charming station, assured me«that the mosquitoes are so numerous that it is absolutely necessary to live nine months of the year under gauze. It was pitch-dark when we reached a place called I ]\ ,. i-, ; I I ! 360 PASSAMAGOULA— FIFE-FLIES. Passamagoula, where our voyage terminated. It here became necessary to cross the lake, about half a mile broad, on a narrow and rickety bridge of planks. The exploit was achieved without accident, but it was really one of peril. To see was impossible, and to grope equally so, for the railing in many places had given way. At one point of our progress it was necessary to jump, and I remember plunging forward into the abyss with the delightful incertitude of whether, in the course of a second, I was not to find myself in the middle of Lake Borgne. The betting, I believe, would have been pretty equal between plank and water, but luckily the former carried it, and in a few minutes I was safely housed in a dirty log tavern. The landlord was particularly anxious that some of the party should remain till the following day, to pro- ceed by another coach ; but having already secured places at New Orleans, I would by no means listen to the suggestion, and accordingly, about one o'clock in the morning, I had the satisfaction of finding myself in the mail stage, mo\'ing slowly onward towards Mobile. Our road was what is expressively called a natural one, and lay through a continued pine forest. In the whole dis- tance I observed only two houses, one of which was a tavern, where we stopped to sup at about four in the morning. Our fare was cold venison and bacon, for which the charge was so enormous as to excite the indig- nation of the passengers, who said not a word until we drove off, when they united in declaring that their pockets had been picked. This forest drive is imprinted on my memory by association with a scene of peculiar beauty. The wind had fallen, and the night was > Tm and misty. After leaving the tavern, the forest suddenly became illumined with myriads of fire-flies. The dark foliage of the pines shone resplendently in the multitude of tiny corusactions. But in an hour day dawned, and the " ineffectual fires " MOBILE — INDIANS. 361 It here lalf a mile Qks, The was really to grope ^iven way. f to jump, abyss with ?ourse of a le of Lake een pretty the former housed in it some of ly, to pro- ired places en to the 3ck in the self in the )bile. Our one, and vhole dis- ieh was a )ur in the »acon, for the indig- l until we hat their jmory by The wind After illumined the pines isactions. lal fires " of these beautiful insects were soon extinguished in ita radiance. About nine in the morning of the 12th of April we reached Mobile, a town, as every Liverpool merchant well knows, of considerable importance. It was burned down some years J»go, but few traces of the conflagration are now discernible. On enquiry, I found that the steam-boat for Montgomery did not start for three days, and, therefore, judged it advisable to take advantage of my letters. These were not less efficacious in procuring kindness at Mobile, than I had had found them in other places. My observations during this three davs' residence afforded little to record. Mobile is a place of trade, and of nothing else. It is the grea<^ port of the cotton-grow- ing State of Alabama. The quays were crowded with shipping, and in amount of exports it is inferior only to New Orleans. The wealth of the Mobile merchants must accumulate rapidly, for they certainly do not dis- sipate it in expenditure. There are no smart houses or equipages, nor indeed any demonstration of opulence, except huge warehouses and a crowded harbour. Of amusements of any kind I heard nothing. My mornings were passed in wandering about the neighbouring forest, which is full of Indians. These men had evidently been debased by their intorcourse with Europeans. It is only in the remote wilderness that they appear in their native dignity and indepen- dence. And yet something of their original grace arid spirit seemed still to cling to them. They are poor, yet patient under suffering, and though subdued, are nobly sub'uiissive. During my walks I often attempted to con- verse with them, but their taciturnity was not to be overcome. I gave them money, but they received it rather with surprise than thankfulness. They were without experience in gratitude, and too manly to express what they did not f el. I J; ii 'II t ! 362 SCOTCH BAKER. I was strongly recommended to lay in a store cf cogniac and biscuits at Mobile, being assured that, in the country I was about to traverse, there would be found neither bread nor brandy. Though not particularly apprehensive of suffering from privation of either, I adopted the advice of my friends, and visited a Scotch baker, whom I directed to pack for me a small box of biscuits. My countrymen are accused of cherishing a certain indestructible sentiment of affinity. Whether this moved the baker and myself, I know not, but we had a good deal of conversation on the subject of emi- gration. My compatriot was a native of Hamilton, and had courted fortune there without success. Regardless of Malthus and his precepts, he had married, and unluck- ily his family increased quite as rapidly as his hope of supporting it diminished. Under these circumstances he turned his little moveables into money, and trusting his progeny for a season to God and their own industiy, set off for America. On arriving at New York he worked for some months as a journeyman, but leamihg from a friend that kneaders of dough were in greater request at Mobile, he there pitched his tabernacle tand heated his oven. His family had since joined him, and he was now, he assured me, in the enjoyment of every comfort which the most fastidious baker could desire. In conversation, the man's mind seemed to be alter- nately influenced by attachment to his native land, and satisfaction in the enjoymei-t of those advantages which had resulted from his quitting it. At first he would talk of nothing but the beau+'?s of the Clyde. " Oh, sir," said he, " are not the bauKs of the Clyde beautiful? Did you ever see a river like it ? Does not the road from Hamilton to Lanark pass through a perfect para- dise? I am sure the whole world has nothing equal to it." I agreed in all his praises of the Clyde, but enquired whether he had not found, in the solid comforts of the HIS OPINIONS ON EMIGBATION. 363 . store cf lat, in the be found rticularly either, I a Scotch ill box of jrishing a Whether ;, but we !t of emi- ilton, and -egardless d unluck- 3 hope of imstances I trusting industiy, York he learnii.g a greater lacle and hini; and of every desire. be alter- and, and res which he would "Oh, ►eautiful? the road ect ])ara- ng equal enquired ts of the New World, a sufficient compensation for the loss of those beauties which it delighted his imagination to recall. This question seemed to have the effect of diverting the whole current of the baker's ideas. He dilated on his present comforts, told me he lived like a duke — the man was redolent of broth — had two slaves, could pay his debts any day in the week, and had lately been able, without inconvenience, to send a hundred dollars to his poor mother. In regard to emigration he expressed his opinions at great length. " In Scotland, sir," said this sagacious master of the rolls, " there is so much competition in every trade that a great many must be unsuccessful. Take my own case as an example : when I set up a shop in Hamilton, I was honest and industrious enough, and understood my business quite as well as any baker in the country ; still I could get little custom. The trade was already full, and those only who had considerable capital could afford to wait till business came in by slow degrees. This would not do for me, whose whole stock in trade consisted of fifty pounds, borrowed from my wife's uncle. I was obliged to sell my bread to pay for my flour, and finding that impossible, soon got inio the Gazette. My story is that cf thousands more ; and surely these men had better come to this country, than continue struggling for a precarious subsistence at home. They may not get rich here, but they will be sure, if they are sober, industri- ous, and do not suffer from the climate, to escape from poverty. But it is not actual want of the necessaries of life, sir, which occasions the chief suffering of the poor tradesman in the old country. It is the cares and anxi- eties that continually press on him, that deprive his bread of its nourishment, and disturb his sleep by night ; it is these things that wear out both soul and body, and make him an old man before his time. In America a man may look to the future without more apprehension than what naturally arises from the common accidents to ! ii ii w t ! 1 ^ 1 L li 1 364 THE baker's .VDTICE TO EXnGRANTS. which we are liable in all countries. He need have no fears about his fa ^'ly, for he has plenty to give them in the mean time ; and if they live, they will soon be able to provide for themselves. " Still I would not advise any one who is in a steady way of business at home, however small, and who can make both ends meet by strict economy, to think of emigrating. It is a sore trial, sir ; and if I had been a single man, with no one to provide for but myself, I never would have left bonny Scotland. Oh, sir, the rivers here are not to be compared to the Clyde ; and had the worst come to the worst, I would still have con- trived to get both bite and sup ; and 1 often think now that a mouthful in that country would do me more [rood than a whole bellyful in this. The man that comes here, sir, only exchanges one set of evils for another : he is obliged to mingle with a most profane and godless set. He cannot hear the gospel preached, as he has been accustomed to, and the profanation of the Sabbath is most awful. He cannot give his children a religious education, and bring them up in the fear of the Lord ; and it is shocking to think on the sights of depravity to which they must become accustomed from their very infancy. I am not sure, sir, that poverty is not a slight evil when compared to this. " Then there is slavery, sir ; men are treated in this country far worse than brute beasts in Scotland, and surely this is dreadful. There is no gettii.^ any thing done here without slave? for all white men think it a disgrace to labour. I was obliged to buy {,'. slave with the first money I could spare, and I have now two, but I treat them just like free servants, and teach my child- ren that, in the eye of God, they are as good as them- selves. After ail, it is a iwre trisl of patience, for the creatures are dirty, and have no sense or gumption. Then, the ways of the people here are not pleasant to one from the old country : they are not social and neigh- DEPARTURE FROM MOBILE— FARMERS. 365 (i have no '^e them ?.n >n be able n a steady who can think of ad been a myself, I I, sir, the yde; and have con- ;hink now Qore good lat comes Dther : he jdless set. has been abbath in religious he Lord; )ravity to lieir very >t a slight d in this and, and my thing liink it a ave with two, but ny child- as them- for the Limption. ?a9ant to d neigh- bourly, and are so keen about money, that I verily believe they would skin a flea for lucre of the hide and tallow. There is a great deal, sir, that should be v/ell weighed and considered before a man decides on leaving the land of his birth. I liave never advised a friend of mine to do so, and when applied to, though I give all the information in my power, I advise nothing but cau- tion." So far as my nemory would permit, I have embodied the oration of the baker in his own words. It struck me as being marked by an unusual degree of good sense, and may possibly be found useful by intending emigrants. At all events the biscuits of my countryman were excellent, and during my eight days' residence in the Creek country, I often thought of him with grati- tude. On the 15th of April I embarked on board of the steam-boat Isabella, bound up the Alabama river for Montgomery. A;: tliere were no ladies, my English friend and myself succeeded in getting possession of the cabin usually appropriated for their accommodation. Our apartment was immeuiately above that occupied by thi gentlemen, and being surrounded by a balcony, it was impossible to desire any thing more agreeable. The party below seemed to consist almost exclusively of farmers, who, though exceedingly offensive both in habits and deportment, are yet a shade better than the inhabitants of towns. There is nothing rustic, how- ever, about any American — nothing of that simplicity which distinguishes the peasantry of other countries. The eye is almost uniforndy expressive of care and cun- ning ; and often, as I looked on the furrowed and hag- gard countenances which surrounded the dinner-table, have I asked myself, " Is it possible that these men make pretention to happiness ?" In my progress down the western waters, I had become accustomed to a table loaded even to excess with 366 SCENERY OF THE ALABAMA. i provisions of ail sorts. In the Southern States there is no such profusion. Our dinners on board the Isabella were scanty in quantity, and far from laudable on the score of quality. Plates, dishes, knives and forks, tablecloths, all were dirty and disgusting. But bating these disagreeables, our voyage was pleasant and pros- perous. The Alabama is a river apparently about the size of the Hudson; and the scenery through which it, led us, was very pleasing, though deficient in variety. Either bank presented a splendid mass of Inxuriant foli- age, and some of the noblest timber I had ever seen. Among the forest Lrees I remarked the plane, the cotton- tree, dogwood, oak of several varieties, magnolia grandi- flora, maple, gum-tree, hackberry, &c. At night I was peculiti'ly struck with the beauty of the stars reflected in the pure waters of the river. The whole sky was mirrored with a vividnsss which exceeded every thing of the kind I have ever witnessed before or since. In the evening we passed Claiborne, a petty village on a height, a short distance from the river. In a state so thinly peopled as Alabama, however, it is talked of as a considerable place ; but, from all I saw or heard of it, Claiborne is not increasing, nor is it likely to increase. On the morning following we came to Port- land, a wretched settlement, consisting of a store and a few wretched houses. This is what is called, in Ame- rican phrase, " a great improvement." We called at every house in the place in search of milk, but could get none. Our next stoppage was at Cahawba, which, a year or two ago, was the seat of government of the state. It is a very poor collection of very poor houses, not, I should imagine, above fifty in number. The Court- house happening to be open, I entered, and found the Court engaged in the discharge of business. On an elevated platform, composed of rough unpainted boards, sat his honour the judge, not better dressed, and appa- r COURT OF LAW — ARRIVAL AT MONTGOMERY. 367 !S there is e Isabella le on the nd forks, •lit bating and pros- about the I which it. 1 variety, riant foli- }ver seen, tie cotton- ia grandi- ght I was reflected J sky was ery thing nee. ,ty village In a state talked of or heard likely to to Port- ore and a in Ame- called at but could h, a year he state, es, not, I |e Court- bund the On an d boards, nd appa- rently somewhat filthier in habits, than an English ploughman. The ease concerned the payment of a doc- tor's bill : the counsel for defendant, a gentleman in a fustian jacket, was in the ac^ of addressing the Court. He read an act of the legislature, enacting, that no practitioner of the healing art should recover for medi • cal attendance without having been previously licensed by a Board of Doctors, and called on the pi intiff, as a necessary preliminary, to produce his certificate. This was evidently inconvenient, and the plaintiff's counsel, whose appearance seemed to indicate a combi- nation of the trade of blacksmith with that of barrister, was somewhat taken aback by th3 demand. The learned gentleman, nowever, attempted with all his ingenuity to get out of the scrape, and, at the conclusion of every sentence, hitched up his plush breecheS; which seemed in danger of dropping about his heels, with a grace pecu- liarly his own. Unfortunately I had not time to wait for the peroration. The steam-boat bell sounded, and no time was to be lost in getting on board. Shortly after dark we reached Selma, the most con- siderable settlement on the Alabama, between Mobile and Montgomery. There was no quay, and a good deal of the cargo was rolled out upon the bank without any one to receive it. I did not see Selma, for the night was cloudy and moonless, and the village stands at a short distance from the river. On the fourth day our voyage terminated. Mont- gomery is what ii. called " a considerable place," though its population does not exceed a few hundreds, and these exclusively of the poorer order. I did not observe one tol 'able house, and nothing could be worse than the inn. In the way of dormitory, I could only procure a room containing three beds, all of which were destined to be occupied. What was still worse, the beds were full of vermin, and the mosquitoes more annoying than I had yet found them. P"W 368 DEPARTURE FROM MONTGOMERY. ! In such circumstances I was up with the lark, and set out on a long ramble through the neighbouring country. The soil is poor and light, but presents a prettily undulating surface. From one height I enjoyed a fine view of the river, which is truly, even at this distance from the sea, a noble object. After a walk of three hours I returned to the inn, having fortunately succeeded in throwing off by exercise the fever and fatigue of a restless night. In the Southern States there is little of that stirring spirit of improvement so apparent in the regions of the West. The towns and villages are ^^ :hout the appear- ance of business, and the number of dilapidated — if the word may be applied to structures of wood — houses, indicates a decreasing rather than an augmenting popu- lation. In Montgomery many houses had been deserted, and the Court-house seemed fast falling into decay. At four o'clock p.m., we started in the mail-stage for Fort Mitchell. There were unfavourable reports abroad of the state of the rivers, which were asserted to be im- passable ; but I had so often experienced that difficulties, formidable at a distance, become insignificant on nearer approach, that I determined to push on at all hazards. In the present case my determination was unlucky, for it involved both my companion and myself in some little danger, and occasioned considerable detention. We accomplished the first stage without difficulty of any kind, but with ihe second commenced the tug of war. Our first obstacle was a bayou of such depth that in crossing it the water was ankle-deep in the bottom of the carriage. Night had set in before we reached Lime Creek, which, though generally a slow and sluggisii stream, was now swelled into a very formidable torrent. It requires experience to understand the full danger of crossing such a river, and, perhaps fortunately, I did not possess it. But both the passengers and coachmen were under considerable alarm, and one of the former, ■' THE CREEK COUNTRY-^THE JOURNEY. 360 lark, and ^hbouring Dresents a I enjoyed sn at this a walk of )rtunately fever and it stirring )ns of the le appear- ed— if the — houses, ing popu- deserted, eeay. -stage for rts abroad to be im- ifficulties, on nearer 1 hazards, lucky, for ome little • ficulty of le tug of epth that jottom of led Lime sluggish 2 torrent, anger of y, I did oachmen B former, a Louisianian planter, in broken English, threatened the black ferryman with instant death in case of negligence pr blunder. This caused some merriment ; but Sambo, who was evidently under no alarm, took the matter very coolly. The coach was run into the ferry-boat, and by means of a hawser stretched across the river, we soon found ourselves in safety on the opposite bank. We were now in the territory of the Creek Indians, and, in consequence of the darkness, it was soon found impossible to proceed without torches. We tried in vain to procure them at several of the Indian encamp- ments, but were at last fortunate enough to discover an axe in the coach, with which abundance were soon cut fi'om the neighbouring pines. I have had occasion to say a great deal about roads in these volumes, but I pronounce that along which our route lay on the pre- sent occasion to be positively, comparatively, and super- latively, the very worst I have ever travelled in the whole course of my peregrinations. The ruts were axle-deep, and there were occasionally huge crevices, in which, but for great strategy on the part of the coach- man, the vehicle must have been engulfed. In such circumstances none of the passengers seemed ambitious of the dangerous distinction i of keeping his seat. We all walked, each armed with a pine torch, and the party, to a spectator, must have had very much the aspect of a funeral procession. Nothing, however, could be more beautiful than the scene presented by the forest. The glare of our torches, as we continued slowly advancing amid the darkness ; the fires of the Indian encampments seen at a distance through the trees, and the wild figures by which they were sur- rounded ; the multitude of fire-flies which flickered every where among the foliage, formed a combination of objects which more than compensated in picturesque beauty for all the difficulties we had yet encountered. We had to pass two swamps on a sort of pavement 2a 370 INDIAN TAVERN. ■ (n . I Hi •»! formed of logs of trees, or what is called in America f the lash 's all push- , and gave hard and immediate ne of the in doleful we seated ;e. It would not, in truth, be easy to conceive a set of men in more miserable plight. The storm, instead of abating, continued to increase. The peals of thunder were tremendous. The lightning split a huge pine-tree within a few yards of us, and one of the passengers declared he was struck blind, and did not recover his sight for an hour or two. The rain beat in through the sides and covering of the carriage, as if in v,anton- ness of triumph to drench men who, sooth to say, were quite wet enough already. In short. Such sheets of lire, such bursts of liorrid thunder, Such groans of roaring wind and rain, I never Remember to have heard. From one o'clock in the morning until seven did we continue in this comfortless condition, when we were somewhat cheered by the appearance of the driver, who, we afterwards discovered, had been sleeping very com- fortably in an Indian cottage in the neighbourhood. He brought with him a couple of negroes, but no additional horses, and of course it was quitch preposterous to sup- pose that the poor animals, who had been standing al^ night without food, and exposed to the storm, could now peiform a task to which they had formerly proved unequal. The attempt was made, however ; and to Ughten the coach, our baggage was tossed out upon the road. Neither the negroes, horses, nor passengers, could move the coach one inch from its position. There it was, and there it was destined to remain. Our last hope of extrication had now failed us, and it became necessary to find shelter and hospitality as best we could. Luckily an Indian cottage was discovered at no great distance, where, by the help of a blazing fire, we suc- ceeded in drying our garments. In the course of the day a bullock waggon was dispatched for the mail-bags and luggage, and there was evidently nothing for it but roughing it with a good grace. On the part of those on whose privacy we had intrud- 372 INDIAN COTTAGE — SLAVES. li ed, our welcome was tranquil, but apparently nin.^ere. Our host — one of the handsomest Indians I have over seen — spread before us his whole store of eggs, veni.^on, and Indian corn, with the air of a forest gentleman. His two wives, with greater advantages of toilet, would probably have been good-looking, but being unfortu- nately rather dirty, and clad only in a blanket and blue petticoat, the sum of their attractions was by no means overpowering. The children were nearly naked, yet graceful in all their motions. Their chief amusement seemed to consist in the exercise of the cross-bow. One of the passengers produced a musical snuff-box, which occasioned great excitement in the women and children. The men were too dignified or phlegmatic to betray either pleasure or astonishment. Our host, however, was evidently delighted with an air-gun with which several birds were killed for his amusement. He then asked permission to take a. shot, and hit a dollar with great accuracy at about thirty yards. It somewhat lowered the ideas of romance connected with these Indians, to find that they are many of them slave-owners. But slavery among this simple people assumes a very different aspect from any under which I had yet beheld it. The negroes speak English, and gene- rally act as dragomen in any intercourse with the whites. They struck me as being far handsomer than any I had yet seen, partly perhaps from being unhabituated to severe labour, and partly from some slight admixture of Indian blood. I conversed with several, who described their bondage as light, and spoke of their master and his family with affection. To the lash they are altoge- ther unaccustomed, and when married, live in houses of their own, round which they cultivate a patch of ground. The negro and Indian children are brought up together on a footing of perfect equality, and the government of the family seemed entirely patriarchal. The weather h^d become fine, and the day passed AMERICAN REFUGEES. 373 tly s*inoere. f have ever ?s, veniion, gentleman. )ilet, would ij? unfoitu- L't and blue ^ no means naked, vet amusement -bow. . snuff-box, ivomen and phlegmatic Our host, r-gun with ment. He hit a dollar connected ly of them pie people which I had and gene- the whites. any I had >ituated to mixture of i described naster and ire altogC' in houses patch of e brought Y, and the riarchal. lay passed more pleasantly than the night. The Indian territory being l^eyond the reach of American law, is sought as a place of refuge by criminals, and those to whom the restraints of civilized society are habitually irksome. These men intermarry with the natives, among whom they contribute to spread guilt and demoralization. In ti uth, the majority are ruffians, whose proneness to crime is here alike unchecked by principle, religion, public opinion, or dread of punishment. Towards evening two of this class came in, and chose to pass the night in drinking. Nothing more offensive than their manners and conversation can be conceived. After bearing patiently with this annoyance for an hour or two, it at length became intolerable, and, in order to escape, I spread my cloak in a corner of the cabin and endeavoured to sleep. But this was impossible. Tho noise, the demands for liquor, the blasphemy, the wrang- ling, were unceasing. At length one of the men drew his dirk, and attempted to assassinate his opponent, who succeeded, however, in seizing him by the throat, and both rolled upon the floor. I immediately jumped up, and the alarm aroused our host, who, with the assist- ance of a slave, barely succeeued in saving the life of one of the cc-nbatants. He was at first insensible. His mouth w as wide open ; his face and lips were livid ; his eyes seemed bursting from their sockets, and on being raised, his head hung do\vn upon his shoulder. His lungs, however, made a convulsive effort to regain their action. There was a loud and sudden gurgle, and he became better. The other man was prevailed on to depart ; and towards four in the morning, silence, broken only by the snoring of some of its inmates, reigned in the cottage. Sleep, however, was impossible, under the incessant attacks of a multitude of bloodsuckers, which would have outnumbered the army of Xerxes. But morning came, and fortunately with it a coach intended to con- rll (.' I V 374 AMERICAN POLYGAMIST. vey us on our journey. Our host could not be prevailed on to make any charge for our entertainment, but one of his wives received all we chose to offer, and appeared satisfied with its amount. Not an article of the baggage was found missing, and on departing I shook hands with the whole establishment — negroes included — to the great scandal of the American passengers. Even by daylight our way was beset by difficulties. First came Kilbeedy Creek, which we crossed by as awkward and rickety a bridge as can well be imjigined. Then came Pessimmon's swamp, which presented a de- lightful corduroy road, some parts of which had been entirely absorbed by the morass. At length we reach- ed the inn, kept by an American polygamist with three Indian wives. The breakfast was no better than might be expected in such an establishment. It consisted of bad coffee, rancid venison and corn cakes, no eggs, no milk, no butter. Our host apjtarently had no great taste in the article of wives. One was round as a hogs- head ; another skin and bone ; of the third I saw, or at least remember, nothing. The meal concluded, we again set forward. Our route lay through one continued pine forest. In the course of the day we passed many Indian wigwams, and a few houses of a better order, surrounded by small enclosures. The road by no means improved, and, in order to relieve the horses, we were compelled to walk. At one place it was completely obstructed by a huge fallen tree, which delayed our progress for at least two hours. About three o'clock we dined at the house of a half-caste Indian, on the usual fare, venison and Indian corn. In the course of the evening we passed several heights which afforded extensive views of the neighbouring country. The road, too, became somewhat better, and being composed of sand without stones, though heavy for the horses, was not uncomfortable for the passengers. ARRIVAL AT FORT MITCIIEI t , 375 )e prevailed it, but one id appeared he baggage hands with to the great difficulties. )ssed by as ) imagined. 3nted a de- i had been we reach- with three than might !onsisted of eggs, no 1 no great as a hoffs- saw, or at ard. Our t. In the wams, and by small d, and, in d to walk, by a huge least two house of a nd Indian al heights ;hbouring etter, and igh heavy assengers. For myself, I never e:^perieneed greater fatigue. Du- ring the two preceding nights, I had never closed an eye, and when, at four in the morning, we reached a small tavern, where — owing to the desertion of the moon — it was found necessary to wait till daylight, I cast my- self on the floor, and in a moment was asleep. Daylight soon came, and I was again roused from my slumbers. We were yet fourteen miles from Fort Mitchell, and for the greater part of the distance were compelled to make progress on foot. The sun rose beautifully above the dark tops of the pine-trees, but he was never gazed on by more languid eyes. At ten o'clock we reached Fort Mitchell, having in twenty-four hours accomplished a distance of only ninety miles. Fort Mitchell is garrisoned by a detachment of the United States' army, in order to prevent aggression on the Georgian frontier by the Indians. Beyond the limits of the fort there are — if I remember rightly — only three houses, one of which is a tavern Its accom- modations were far from comfortable, but the landlord was civil, and evidently disposed to do his best in our behalf. Under such circumstances we made no com- plaint, though — judging from the scantiness of our meals — his larder must have rivalled in opulence the shop of the apothecary in Romeo and Juliet. My first effort was to procure a pUce in the coach to Augusta, but in this I was disappointed. Fort Mitchell seemed a sort of trou de rat which it was difficult to get into, and still more difficult to get out of. I was de- tained there for nearly u week, and never did time pass more slowly. Had my sojourn been voluntary, I should probably have found a great deal to interest and amuse, but an enforced residence is never pleasant, and but for the privilege of grumbling, would be intolerable. The officers of the garrison lived in the hotel, and took pleasure in showing kindness to a stranger. I rode with them through the neighbouring forest, and ! I { (I 376 INDIAN BALL PLAY. was indebted to them for much valuable information relative to the Indians. During my stay, there was a Ball Play, in which two neighbouring tribes contended for superiority. One of these was the Creeks, the other the Ewitches, a very small tribe, which occupy a district in the Creek territory, and still retain all their peculi- arities of language and customs. On the appointed morning we repaired to the scene of action, Avhere a considerable number of spectators— chiefly Indians — had already assembled. The players on each side soon appeared, and retired to the neigh- bouring thickets to adjust their toilet for the game. While thus engaged, either party endeavoured to daunt their opponents by loud and discordant cries. At length they emerged with their bodies entirely naked excej^t the waist, which was encircled by a girdle. Their skin was besmeared with oil, and painted fantastically with different colours. Some wore tails, other necklaces made of the teeth of animals, and the object evidently w^as to look as ferocious as possible. After a good deal of preliminary ceremony, the game began. The object of each party was to send the ball as far as possible into their adversary's ground, and then to make it pass between two poles, erected for the pur- pose of demarcation. I certainly never saw a finer dis- play of agile movement. In figure the Creek Indians are tall and graceful. There is less volume of muscle than in Englishmen, but more activity and freedom of motion. Many of the players were handsome men, and one in particular might have stood as the model of an A])ollo. His form and motions displayed more of the ideal than I had ever seen actually realized in a human figure. The Ewitches were by no means so good-look- ing as their competitors. The game is accompanied with some danger, both to those engaged in it and to the spectators. It is quite necessary for the latter to keep clear of the m^lee, for in ■ "K p"^--?',/* L UNIiED states' troops. 377 nformation here was a contended 1, the other y a district eir peculi- the scene •ectators — he players the neigh- the game. d to daunt At length :ed exce])t Their skin Lcally with necklaces eddently the game 1 the ball and then the pur- finer dis- Indians of muscle [•eedom of men, and idel of an •re of the a human ood-look- ', both to t is quite 'ee, for in ik following the ball, the whole body of the players sweep on like a hurricane, and a gouty or pursy gentleman could be safe only when perched on the boughs of a tree. At length the Creeks were victorious, and the air rang with savage shouts of triumph. The poor Ewitches, crestfallen, quitted the field, declaring, how- ever, that nono but their worst players had taken part in the game. The victors danced about in all the mad- ness of inordinate elation, and the evening terminated in a profuse jollification, to which I had the honour of contributing. During my stay at Fort Mitchell I saw a good deal of the United States' troops. The discipline :'s very lax, and being always separated in small detachments, they have no opportunity of being exercised in field movements. On Sunday there was a dress parade, which I attended. Little was done, but thr^i; little in the most slovenly manner. It is only justice to the ofiicers to slide, that they are quite aware of the defi- ciencies of the service to which they belong. " You will laugh," they said, "at our want of method and discipline, but the fault is not ours ; we cannot help it. The service is unpopular, we receive no support from the government, and we have no means or maintaining proper subordination." A non-commissioned ofiicer, who had formerly been in our service, and therefore understood what soldiers should be, in answering some questions, treated the whole affair as a joke. He entered the American service, he said, because there was easy work, and little trouble of any sort. He had no inten- tion of remaining long in it, for he could do better in otiier ways. There was no steady and effective com- mand kept over the soldiers, and yet there was a great* deal of punishment. Even from the small detachment at Fort Mitchell desertions happened every week. When- ever a man became tired of his duty, off he went, bag and baggage, and pursuit was hopeless. I confess I was 378 ARMY — ITS CONDITION. fc- ,1 m fi f 1 f somewhat surprised, in this free country, to observe soldiers chained together, and hibouring like the galley- slaves of Spain or Italy. The truth is, that men accustomed to democracy can never be brought to submit patiently to the rigours of military discipline. The nation take pride in their navy, but none in their army. The latter service is neglected ; tl pre • o encouragement for the display of zeal in the off oi, , and the stations are so remote as to remove the troops entirely from public observation. The people care nothing for a set of invisible beings mewed up in some petty forts on the vast frontier, who have no enemy to contend with, and are required to brave nothing but fever and mosquitoes. Then, when a case connected with the enforcement of discipline comes before the civil courts, the whole feeling is in favour of the prosecutor. I remember a curious instance of this, which was related to me by an officer of distinc- tion in the United Service army. A soldier found guilty, by a court-martial, of repeated desertions, was sentenced to a certain peri ■ ^ o? imprisonment, and loss of pay. The man under\ v : t\e allotted punishment, and on being liberated, i i* o'ltely brought actions against all the members of ^ ; court-martial. The ground taken up was this : — The articles of war state, that whoever is guilty of desertion shall " suffer death, or such other punishment as, by a general court-martial, shall be awarded." It was maintained, that, by this clause, the court were empc^''ered to inflict only one punishment, and that, in passing sentence of imprison- ment and stoppage of pay, they had inflicted two. The jury gave a verdict and high damages against the mem- bers of the court, who received no assistance nor pro- tection of any kind from the Government. On leaving Fort Mitchell we crossed the Chatahouchy — a very considerable river, of which I had never heard — and entered the State of Georgia. Our road still GEORGIA— MILLEDGEVILLE. 379 > observe lie galley- cracy can e rigours e in their service is display of note as to servation. )le being's a itier, who quired to len, Avhen discipline ling is in s instance >f distinc- ier found ions, was , and loss lishment, t actions il. The rar state, er death, martial, by this only one mprison- 00. The he mem- nor pro- ;ahouchy er heard oad still continued to lie through an almost unbroken pine forest, and the roads were mere sand, in which the wheels sank half up to the axles. The heat was very great. We travelled all night, and on the evening of the following day reached Macon, the most considerable village I had seen since leaving Mobile. We dined there, and again set forward. About ten at night we reached Milledge- ville, where I was obliged to remain througli illness, though still nearly two days' journey from Augusta, to vdiich I had secured places. I passed a restless and uncomfortable night, and find- ing the fever still increase, sent for a doctor. I asked him whether he apprehended my complaint to be fever? He answered, that he certainly feared that I was suffer- ing under the commencement of a fever of some sort, but with regard to its character or probable termination, could pronounce no opinion. In spite of the doctor's medicines, I continued to get worse. The weather was intensely hot, and I began to apprehend that Milledge- ville would prove the termination of my travel ii. But during the third night a profuse perspiration came on, and in the morning I had the satisfaction to find that the fever w^as gone. Unfortiuiately my strength was gone with it. I could only walk with the greatest difficulty, and required assis- tance to reach the veranda. Luckily, there was a good- natured black cook, who sent me up a boiled chicken, the first food I tasted since leaving Macon. This acted as a restorative. On the day following I could creep about the city, of which, being the metropolis of a state, it may be well to say a few words. Milledgeville has seen better days, and presents the appearance, not of a decayed gentleman, but of a starv- ing mechanic. Many houses have already gone to decay, and others are fast following. It stands on the Oconee river, which, unfortunately, is every year becoming shallower, to the great injury both of trade and agricul- iH 380 DEPARTURE FROM MILLEDGEVILLE. 4» ture. The country round Milledgeville is undulating, and has been tolerably cleared. At first the soil was considered excellent, but wherever the forest has disap- peared, the rains and torrents from the hills have swept off the earth from the declivities, and left nothing but gravel. It is chiefly to these causes, I believe, that the decline of population and prosperity may be attributed. The Georgian Legislature Avas not sitting, but I visited the State House. It is a brick building, which some blockhead of an architect has recently thought proper to Gothidze. The accommodation within is plain, but sufficient. There is a portrait of General Ogle- thorpe, who first received a grant of the settlement from the British Crown. He is a fine-looking old martinet, with a countenance full of talent, and an air of high breeding. I was invited to visit the state prison, but felt not the smallest curiosity. The second night after my recovery, I left Milledge- ville, in the mail-stage. My friend, the doctor, was a worthy and kind-hearted man, who forgave me for hav- ing disappointed his prognosis. We had had a good deal of conversation during his visits, and when he came to see me off in the coach, showed more feeling on the occasion than I deserved. He squeezed me heartily by the hand, and said, " Sir, I shall never see you again, but you have my very best wishes that health and hap- piness may attend you." To meet with kindness unex- pectedly is always pleasant, and should these pages ever meet the eye of the worthy son of Galen — whose name, unfortunately, has escaped my memory — I beg him lo receive this public and grateful acknowledgment of his warm-hearted attentions to a stranger. A journey through Georgia presents little to record. The inhabitants bear a bad character in other parts of the Union. They are, perhaps, a little savage and ferocious ; and, in regard to morals, one is tempted occasionally to regret that the gibbet is not abroad in GEORGIANS — ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE. 381 adulating, e soil was has disap- ave swept )thing but i, that the Lttributed. ig, but I ng, which Y thought in is plain, jral Ogle- nent from martinet, ir of high irisou, but Milledge- tor, was a e for hav- id a good n he came ng on the eartily by ou again, and hap- less unex- ages ever ose name, g him 10 ent of his o record. parts of v^age and tempted abroad in Georgia as well as the schoolmaster. From Fort Mitchell I travelled with three attorneys, two store-keepers, a cot- ton-planter, and a slave-dealer. My notions of the sort of conversation prevalent iu xVewgate may not be very accurate ; but T much doubt whether it would be found to indicate such utter debasement, both of thought and principle, as that to which I was condemned to listen during this journey. Georgia receives large accessions of population in the offscourings of other slave states. The restraints of law are little felt, and it is the only state in the Union in which I heard it publicly asserted that justice is not purely administered. A Georgian, with whom I con- versed u, gret't deal about his native stat'^ declared that, with plenty of money, he could, with facility, escape punishment for any otience, aowever heinous. I enquired the mode by which so tempting an impunity was to be realized. He would first, he said, have a touch at the sheriff, bribe the prosecutor's counsel to keep back evi- dence, or leave some flaw by which the proceedings might be vitir.ted ; then the jury — it would be odu indeed if he could not gain over some of them ; but even should all fail, there was the jailer — a sure card. In Georgia, he assured me, there was really no danger to be apprehended from law by a gentleman with heavy pockets, who carried his wits about with him. A great part of the journey to Augusta was performed in the night. I saw enough, however, to convince me that there was no change in the general character of the scenery which I have so often described. Our supper- house was in a village called Sparta, but the landlord had gone to bed, and nothing was to be had except brandy. On the following evening we reached Augusta. Soon after our arrival, I took a walk through the town. It stands on the Savannah river, and is the great depot for the cotton grown in the surrounding country, which is there shipped for Savannah or Charleston. The ■■iP; ■' 382 AUGUSTA. main street is broad, and of considerable length. There is a handsome bridge across the river, and the place altogether formed a pleasing contrast to those I had seen since the commencement of my voyage up the Alabama. My illness at Milledgeville had left considerable debility, and I determined on resting a day or two at Augusta. I had brought several Liters, which I dis- patched, and was rather surprised to find that one of them was addressed to the landlord of the tavern in which I had taken up my abode. The best introduction to people of this class is generally a well-filled pocket ; but it is only fair to state, that ray letter did for me what money most probably would not. Mine host was in the highest degree civil, placed me at dinner on his right hand, was particularly attentive to the condition of my plate, and when I orcered A'ine, gave me, I do believe, one of the very best bott'.es in his cellar. He likewise conveyed me in h s carriage to visit a military station in the neighbourhood, and from the respect paid him by the officers, I concluded that he of the Ked Lion was a topping man in the place. From Augusta, I should have gone dovm the river to Savannah, but the steamer was not to sail for five days, and I determined on proceeding by coach direct to Charles- ton. We had not advanced above a few miles, when a dreadful storm came on. The thunder was \ ery loud, and the rain very heavy, but in the course of an iiour or two the sky was again clear, and we at least enjoyed the benefit of travelling without dust. Our route lay through a succession of swamps and pine forests. Here and there was a rice or cotton plantation, which scarcely contri- buted to diminish the dreariness of the prospect. We travelled all night, and at two o'clock on the following day reached the Ashley river, within sight of Charleston. Unfortunately, the wind was too high for crossing, and till nine at night we were forced to >?*• CHARLESTON — ITS APPEARANCE. 383 , There he place le I had ! up the siderable r two at jh I dis- t one of avern in oduction pocket ; i for me host was ir on his idition of ne, I do lar. He military 3ect paid ed Lion river to ve days, Charles- when a oud,and or two yed the througti id there contri- on the sight of )o high reed to remain in the ferry-house, where seventeen of us were crammed together in one miserable apartment. What we should do for the night became matter of puzzle, but luckily the wind lulled, and the appearance of the ferry-boat put an end to our perplexities. Every Englishman who visits Charleston will, if he be wise, direct his baggage to be conveyed to Jones's hotel. It is a small house, but every thing is well managed, and the apartments are good. Our party at dinner did not exceed ten, and there was no bolting or scrambling. Jones is a black man, and must have prospered in the world, for I learned he was laid up >vith gout — the disease of a gentleman. The pleasure of getting into suth a house — of revisit- ing the glimpses of clean table-cloths and silver forks — of exchanging salt pork and greasy corn cakes for a table furnished with luxuries of all sorts — was very great. Fcr a day or two I experienced a certain impulse to voracity by no means philosophical ; and, sooth to say, after the privations of a journey from New Orleans, the luxury of Jones's iced claret might have converted even Diogenes into a gourmet. Except New Orleans, Charleston is the only place I saw in the Southern States which at all realizes our English ideas of a city. It was quite a relief, after the miserable towns I had lately passed through, to get into one bearing the impress of what — in the United States at least — may be called respectable antiquity. The public buildings are very good ; and though the streets, separately taken, had nothing to admire, the city presents an &,ppearance of bustle and animation which tends to redeem minor defects. The greater part of the houses are of brick, and there are many buildings of pretensions equal to any in the Union. A considerable number of the better houses are decorated by gardens, stocked with orange-trees, the pride of India, and a variety of flowering shrubs. tl ^^^'•IP'^ ^rm 384 CLIMATE OF CHARLESTON. The city stands on an isthmus formed by two rivers, the Ashley and the Cooper. The interior abounds in pestilential marshes, which are found to be happily adapted for the cultivation of rice, and the soil, in drier situadons, produces excellent cotton. These articles constitute the staples of South Carolina, and the expen- diture of human liie in their cultivation is very great. The miasma generated by the rice grounds is peculiarly fatal. The slaves are forced to brave it, but at the expense of health and strength. They die — fortunately, perhaps — before their time, and yet " so slowly that the world cannot call it murder." In point of climate, I believe Charleston is fully worse than New Orleans. In the latter, Creoles are entirely exempt from the ravages of the prevailing endemic. But, in Charleston, there is no impunity for any class. Even native Carolinians die of fever as well as their neighbours. The chances are, that if a person from the country, however acclimated, sleeps in Charles- ton even for a night, at a certain season of the year, he catches the fever. Should a person living in the city pass a day with his friend in the country, there is not a doctor in the place, who, on his return, would not con- sider him in a state of peril. In short, the people of Charleston pass their lives in endeavouring to escape from a pursuer who is sure to overtake the fugitive at last. At one season the town is unhealthy, and all who can afford it fly to their estates. At another the country is unhealthy, and they take up their abode in the pine barrens. From the pine barrens they venture back into the town, from which, in a short time, they are again expelled. In New Orleans, a man runs a certain risk, and has done with it. If he live, he continues to eat crawfish in a variety of savoury preparations. If he die, the crawfish eat him without cookery of any sort. He has no fear of dining with his friend in the country at any season of the year. DEPARTURE PROM CHARLESTON. 385 rivers, )unds in happily , in drier articles le expen- ry great, eculiarly [t at the tunately, vvly that is fully )oles are revailing unity for 3r as well a person . Charles- year, he 1 the city is not a not con- )eopIe of escape igitive at and all 3ther the abode in venture me, they and has \rfish in a wfish eat of dining the year. But in Charleston a man must be continually on the alert; for, go where he may, there is fever at his heels. This continual dodging with death strikes rae as very dis- agreeable ; and, if compelled to fix my residence in either city, I should certainly choose New Orleans in preference. This, however, is mere matter of taste. I was unfortunate in the time of my visit to Charleston. On the day after my arrival, I sent round a considerable number of letters, but found almost every body out of town. Of the society of Charleston, therefore, I can say little from personal observation. But I have been assured from various quarters th it it is very agreeable, and have no reason to doubt the a euracy of the state- ment. Finding Charleston in this deserted state, I at once determined on returning to New York. It had been my intention to perform the journey by land, but I was assured there was no object which would repay the inconveniences of the journey. The scenery was pre- cisely similar to that of which I had already seen so much ; the people not materially different ; and I con- fess I had become sick to the very soul of stage-coach travelling in the south. My plans, however, were yet undecided, when, walk- ing along one of the quays, I saw the blue Peter flying from the topmast head of a New York packet. The temptation was irresistible. I went on board, secured berths, and in less than an hour bade farewell to Charles- ton from the deck of the Saluda. During my hurried progress through the Southern States, I was rarely brought into contact with men of opulence and intelligence. Indeed I much question whether Alabama and Georgia possess any considerable class of gentlemen, in the sense in which that term is applicable to the better order of the inhabitants of the northern cities. But in South Carolina it is otherwise. There is a large body of landed proprietors, who are 2b w 386 CHARACTER OF POPULATION. men of education and comparative refinement ; and who, though publicly advocating the broadest principles of democracy, are in private life aristocratic and exclusive. Like the Virginians, they are of blood purely English, and disposed to relinquish no claim, which a descent from several generations of respectable ancestors can be understood to confer. The poles are not more diametrically opposed, than a native of the States south of the Potomac, and a New- Englander. They differ in every thing of thought, feel- ing, and opinion. The latter is a man of regular .ind decorous habits, shrewd, intelligent, and persevering; phlegmatic in temperament, devoted to the pursuits of gain, and envious of those who are more successful than himself. The former — I speak of the opulent and edu- cated — is distinguished by a high-mindedness, genero- sity, and hospitality, by no means predicable of his more eastern neighbours. He values money only for the en- joyments it can procure, is fond of gaiety, given to social pleasures, somewhat touchy and choleric, and as eager to avenge an insult as to show a kindness. To fight a duel in the New England States, would, under almost any circumstances, be disgraceful. To refuse a challenge — to tolerate even an insi luation derogatory from personal honour — would be considered equally so in the South. In point of manner, the Southern gentlemen are deci- dedly superior to all others of the Uniou. Being more dependent on social intercourse, they are at greater pains perhaps to render it agreeable. There is more spirit and vivacity about them, and far le?s of that prudent caution, Avhich, however advantageous on the exchange, i<< by no means prepossessing at the dinner-table, or in the drawing-room. When at Washington, I was a good good deal thrown into the society of members from the South, and left that city, armed by their kindness, with a multitude of letters, of which I regret that my hurried progress did not permit me to avail myself. Many of NEW YORK. 387 md who, ciples of xclusive. English, descent s can be I, than a . a New- jht, feel- ular and evering ; irsuits of 5ful than and edu- genero- his more r the en- . to social eager to ht a duel Qost any Uenge — lersonal South, are deci- ng more ter pains e spirit prudent change, 0, or in a good ram the ss, with hurried Vlauy of them were men of much accomplishment, and I think it probable that Englishmen unconnected with business would generally prefer the society of gentlemen of this portion of the Union to any other which the country aftbrds. In passing the bar, the Saluda unfortunately ran aground, but was soon floated by the returning tide. No other accident occurred. Our voyage was prosper- ous, and the pleasure of inhaling the pure sea-breeze, instead of an atmosphere poisoned by marsh exhalations, very great. In six days I had the satisfaction of again finding myself at New York. CHAPTER XIX. JOUKNEV TO NIAUARA — THE FALLS. In one respect New York was somewhat diflferent from what I remembered it. The gay season had pass- ed. There were no routs, no balls, few parties of any sort ; all was gravity and family seclusion. Some fami- lies had removed to the country ; others were preparing for a trip to Canada or Boston. Still I had the good fortune to encounter many of my former friends, wath whom I enjoyed the pleasure of renewing my inter- course. I believe this pleasure, unsupported by reasons of greater cogency, made me imagine a fortnight's breath- ing-time to be necessary, between the journey just accom- plished, and that which I yet meditated to Niagara and Quebec. Nothing of any consequence, however, occur- red during this interval ; and as I always found the flight of time to be unusually rapid at New York, the period fixed for departure soon came. On the 30th of May I ran up the Hudson to West 1 388 THE HUDSON — WEST POINT. / Point, about fifty miles from New York. The scenery, now clad in all the verdure of summer, certainly tran- scended every thing I had ever seen on a scale so exten- sive. What struck me as chiefly admirable was the fine proportion of the diflerent features of the landscape. Taken separately, they were not much. Every one has seen finer rocks, and loftier mountains, and greater mag- nificence of forest scenery, but the charm lay in the combination, in ^ t exquisite harmony of detail which produces — if I i o write — a synthetic beauty of the highest order. 'Tis not a lip or chcv^, we beauty call. But the joint force, and full result of all. The Hudson, in truth, is one of nature's felicities. Every thing is in its proper place, and of the dimen- sions most proper to contribute to the general effect. Add elevation to the mountains, and the consequence of the river would be diminished. Increase the expanse of the river, and you impair the grandeur of the moun- tains. As it is, there is perfect subordination of parts, and the result is something on which the eye loves to gaze and the heart to meditate, which tinges our dreams with beauty, and often in distant lands will recur, unbidden, to the imagination. At West Point is a nationJ establishment for the education of young men destined for the army. I had letters to Colonel Thayer, the commandant, a clever and intelligent officer, who has made it his pleasure, as well as his business, to acquire an intimate knowledge of tactic in all its branches. By him I was conducted over the establishment, and, in the system of discipline and education, found much to approve. The cadets wear uniform, and are habitually inured to the dis- agreeables — so I remember I used to think them — of garrison duty. In the evening the young gentlemen displayed their proficiency in practical gunnery, and, with some light pieces, made several good shots at a HYDE PARK. 389 target across the river. The distance, I believe, was about eight hundred yards. The guns, however, were not served in a military manner, nor with that speed and regularity which are essential to the practical effi- ciency of the arm. I may also observe, that the carriage of the cadets was less soldierlike than might be M'ished. In most cf them I rc! arked a certain slouch of the shoulders, which demanded the judicious application of back boards and dumb bells. But, in truth, the remark is applicable to the whole population. Colonel Thayer himself is almost the only man whom I chanced to encounter in my travels who appeared to me to possess any thing of the true military bearing. In him it was perfect. I believe he might brave the criticism of a Sergeant- Major of the Guards. Having passed a pleasant day at West Point, I pro- ceeded to Dr Hosack's, about thirty miles distant. I had before visited Hyde Park in the depth of winter ; I now beheld its fine scenery adorned by the richest luxuriance of verdure. Poet or painter could desire nothing more beautiful. There are several villas in the neighbourhood tenanted by very agreeable families, and had it been necessary to eat lotus in the United States, I should certainly have selected Hyde Park as the scene of my repast. But I had determined on returning to England in the course of the summer, and was therefore anxious to proceed on my journey. On the third day I bade farewell to my kind friends — for so I trust they will permit me to call them — and again embarked on the Hudson. The scenery above Hyde Park assumes a new cha- racter. The river leads through a gently undulating country, and its banks present a succession of agreeable villas. I passed the Catskill mountains with regret. Their aspect is fine and commanding, and I was assured the views from the summit are very splendid. I was » t : i. '■^ ^ 390 ALBANY— SHAKER VILLAGE. yet undecided whether I should visit them, when a sum- mons to dinner oocasioned an adjournment of the debate. When I returned to the deck we had passed the Catskill landing-place, and I continued my route to Albany. Albany is the capital of the State of Now York. It is finely situated on the brow of a hill which rises from the margin of the river. On the summit stands the State-house, grandiloquently called the Capitol, a build- ing of some extent but no beauty. None of the public buildings present any thing remarkable, but the town hab an antique appearance, rare in this country, and contains some of the primitive and picturesque buildings erected by the Dutch settlers. The streets struck me as being particularly clean, and the general aspect of the place is pleasing, I had heard much of a Shaker village in the neigh- bourhood, and the day following being Sundpy I drove to it with the view of seeing their form of worship. The name of this peaceful settlement is Niskayuma, and its inhabitants possess a valuable estate of about two thousand acres, which their labour has brought into high cultivation. These simple enthusiasts hold every thing in common, and their tenets, so far as I could under- stand them, are curious enough. Anne Lee, a woman who came to America many years ago, and brought with her the gift of tongues and of prophecy, is the object of peculiar veneration. With such evidences of inspira<"ion, she of course became the founder of a sect. Though herself the wife of an honest blacksmith, Mrs Lee inculcated the indispensable neces- sity of absolute and entire continence, which, on spiri- tual grounds, she maintained to be essential to salvation. Sensual enjoyment of every kind was expressly forbidden, and though such tenets were little calculated to allure the fair or the young. Mother Anne contrived to gather about her a society of disappointed maidens and withered bachelors — of all, in short, who, having survived the age RELIGIOUS CEREMONIES. 391 of passion, were content to make a merit of resigning pleasures in which they could no longer participate. The number of her followers was increased by the acces- sion of a few less antiquated enthusiasts, and an occa- sional accouchement among the fair sisterhood affords matter of jest to the profane. Mother Anne has long gone the way of all flesh, but her memory is yet " green in the souls " of her followers, who speak of her as a pure incarnation of the Divine Spirit. When I arrived public worship had already com- menced, and the congregation were engaged in singing. The music was monotonous, and the words nonsense, or something nearly approaching it. The men were drawn up on one side of the chapel and the women on the other. The latter were the veriest scarecrows I had over seen in the female form. They were old and cadaverous, with the exception of one bright -eyed girl, whose expression bespoke a temperament little fitted for the ascetic abstinence of her sect. The men were poor- looking creatures enough ; but their appearance, on the whole, waa a little better than that of the women. Both, however, were critically clean. The men were without coats, but rejoiced in snuff-coloured waistcoats and unimaginables and white neckcloths. The charms of the women were displayed in grey gowns and white muslin handkerchiefs, and caps very neatly plaited. The ringing concluded ; we had something like a ser- mon. One of the brethren advanced to the centre of the room or chapel, and commenced in a calm, delibe- rate tone as follows : — " We can do nothing of ourselves. Every thing good in us is the gift of God. Yet man is very fond of rely- ing on himself and his own efforts, and almost all those who have been distinguished by spiritual gifts, through all the ages of the world, have had this grand defect in their character. But the truth is, my brethren, we are all helpless without th? gift of grace, and if we, who I >j rsi3»^ 392 SHAKER SERMON. II! have separated ourselves from the world, retiring from its temptations, and renouncing its pomps and vices, find ground for spiritual pride in this devotion of ourselves to the service of God, we are guilty of a very great sin, and a sin more unpardonable in us than others, because our light is greater. I would impress this on you, therefore, not to be vain-glorious on account of the favour you have found in the sight of God, but to go on steadily, humbly, gratefully, and submissively, looking neither to the right hand nor the left, remembering always that your kingdom is not of this world, but of another and a better. Thank God for all his mercies, my brethren, but be not therefore puffed up." After this we had another song, quite as nonsensical as the former, which was followed by a second discourse. The preacher on this occasion was a fat jolly-looking man, whose comfortable plight formed something of a contrast with the mummy-like aspect of his brethren. The only remarkable portion of the discourse was the peroration, in which he addressed himself particularly to those who, like myself, had visited the meeting from motives of mere curiosity. " Strangers, I would address myself to you. What motives have brought you to this place of worship, I know not. Some may have come to join in our devo- tions ; but the greater part of you, I fear, have come only to see the peculiarities of our worship. To this we do not object. We court no concealment in any thing we do ; but we demand of you, in return, that you offer no indecent interruption to our religious solemnities. I beseech you to remember that we are Christians like your- selves — that we are engaged in offering adoration to the great God who fashioned us all as we are. If you do notrespect us, respect yourselves; and,howeverridiculous our forms may appear to you, we entreat that you will at least not interrupt our devotional exercises by any demonstration of contempt." A most these howe main whol their active r'^v^.T -'*P-,^--!ir' SINGING AND DANCING — COHOES FALLS. 393 After such an appeal it became impossible for the most graceless spectator to offer any thing like insult to these simple fanatics. During the dance which followed, however, I confess I had a good deal of difficulty in maintaining due composure. On a given signal the whole congregation began singing and dancing with all their vigour. I observed that the more youthful and active introduced a few supererogatory gyrations, which were not attempted by the senior members ; and one boy in particular signalized himself by a series of spirited saltations, not very dissimilar to the Highland fling. My attention, too, was attracted by the two preachers, who, though somewhat fallen into " the sere, the yellow leaf," kept capering about with the lightness and grace of cart-horses, till the very end of the performance. The dance lasted for about a quarter of an hour, and I could not help sympathizing with the suffering per- formers. The weather was intensely hot, and the whole corps-de-hallet were thrown by their movements into a state of the most profuse perspiration. This circumstance produced a change in the condition of the atmosphere by no means pleasant, and, without waiting the conclusion of the service, I took my departure. From the Shaker settlement I drove to the Cohoes Falls, about five miles distant. The Mohawk, a river about as large as the Severn, comes foaming down, throws itself over a precipice of about seventy feet with great majesty, and then flows calmly onward to its con- fluence with the Hudson. The sight was very noble, and after enjoying it about half an hour, I set out on my return to Albany. The junction of the Champlain and Erie canals, near Troy, is considered a sight to which the admiration of travellers is justly due. Why, I know not. To my ignorant vision there seemed nothing remarkable. The canals are united, and there is an end of it. Of the n\ m 304 JOURNEY TO UTICA. m ■ti amount of difficulties overcome I do not pretend to be qualified to judge. A little above Troy I observed a crowd collected on the river, and found they were attracted by the cere- mony of baptism, which two Baptist clergymen were performing on sundry proselytes. The first subject of immersion was on old lady, whose cold and shivering appearance excited my compassion. She was led in by one of the clergymen till the water reached her middle, when they both — somewhat rudely, I thought — seized the dowager by the shoulders, and throwing her back with a sudden jerk, soused her over head and ears in the water before she seemed aware of their intentions. Luckily, the poor woman escaped absolute sufibcation, and, with an aspect something like that of a drowned rat, was supported to the shore. Her sufferings, how- ever, did not terminate here. The word snuff was written on the nose of one of the clergymen so legibly, that he who ran might read. I observed that, immedi- ately after employing his pocket-handkerchief in its most appropriate function, he applied it to the eyes of the patient matron ! This was even worse than the ducking. At Albany a traveller has the choice of proceeding by stage-coach or canal. I preferred the former, and accord- ingly secured places for Utica. The coach was full, and the heat so excessive, that till we reached Schenectady, I do not know that I ever experienced greater suffering. There, however, our fellow-travellers embarked on the canal, and the rest of the journey was performed in comparative comfort. The road — one of the roughest I ever travelled — winds along the banks of the Mohawk, through a country which presents many noble features. In point of cultivation, however, it appeared very inferior to what might be expected in so populous a district. The greater part of the journey was performed by night, yet not in darkness, for we had the light of a brilliant moon, which softened without obscuring the landscape. THE FALLS OF TRENTON. 395 About eleven o'clock on the following n^orning, we reached Utica, a handsome and flourishing town, which exhibits every external mark of prosperity. After din- ner, I engaged what is called an "extra exclusive" to convey me to Trenton Falls, a distance of fifteen miles. We did not reach Trenton till after nightfall, and I was obliged to delay the gratification of my curiosity till the following morning. The inn, however, was very com- fortable, and after the jolting of the previous night, the attractions of clean sheets and a well-stuffed mattrass were by no means inconsiderable. After breakfast on the following morning, I sallied forth to visit the falls. They are formed by the West Canada creek in its pas- sage through a glen or ravine about two miles in length, in the course of which it descends about three hundred feet. As may be supposed in such circumstances, the stream rushes onward with great violence. There are several falls, none of which are without beauty, and the whole scenery struck me as bearing strong resemblance to that of Roslin glen, to which, except in romantic ?wsociations, it is nothing inferior. The fall which pleased me most is one in which the torrent takes a double leap, the last of which is about forty feet. The surrounding rocks are grand and pre- cipitous, and their crevices afford nourishment to trees which are wreathed into a thousand fantastic forms. There is one sad drawback, however. At precisely the most beautiful point of the scene there has been erected — what, good reader ? — but you will never guess — a dram shop ! How utterly so wild and beautiful a scene is degraded by the presence of a drinking-shop may readily be con- ceived ; and the outrage on taste, and even decency, is the more gratuitous, since the spot on which the build- ing is erected is not above a mile from the hotel. On such occasions one is betrayed unawares into wifting strongly. But cui bono ? A writer may appeal ; M-iil, irli! 396 JOURNEY BY CANAL. '' i i I '1 to a moral sense, but he cannot create one; and assuredly the man whose imagination turns to the brandy bottle, even when gazing on the noble scenery of Trenton, will think of it in the death-agony. Being still sore from the jolting of the stage-coach, I determined to proceed by the cf»nal, and at two o'clock on the following day went on board the passage-boat. There were about forty passengers : the heat of the cabin was intolerable. Driven from within, I took a seat on deck^ but without diminution of suffering. I found myself exposed to the full fervour of the sun, and the boards were literally burning to the feet. Add to this the nuisance of the numerous bridges, the arches of which are barely high enough to admit the passage of the boat, and leave to the passengers only the option of descending every time they approach one, or of being swept off by a more summary process. The country through which we passed consisted chiefly of marshy forest, such as 1 had traversed for many a weary league in the south. Every here and there a town had sp? ng up in the wilderness, but with nothing to interest t^e spectator, who sees every where but one process and one result. He looks for the picturesque, and finds the profitable, and wishes from the bottom of his heart they had been found compatible. The Americans are dilettanti in nomenclature. In following the course of the Erie Canal, a traveller will pass through Troy, Amsterdam, Frankfort, Manlius, Syracuse, Canton, Jordan, Port Byron, Montezuma, Rome, Smith's, Dumkin's, Carthage, Salina, Rochester, Ogden, Geddes, and Palmyra. The Eternal City here dwindles into " a half-shire town, which contains a court- house and jail, and is pleasantly situated on the old canal !" So says the guide-book. Amersterdam is more fortunate, for it boasts "a post-office, a church, and about fifty houses or stores." Palmyra is charmingly located on Mud Creek. Carthage derived its consequence from CANAL PASSAGE-BOAT. 397 a bridge which " fell under the pressure of its own weight." The maxim, delenda est Carthago^ therefore, is likely to be realized in the new world as well as in the old. Such absurdities are fair game, for they have their origin in vanity. To adorn their cities by monuments of art is an expensive indulgence, from which Americans are content to abstain. But pretension of name costs nothing, and is found every where. During the day the number of passengers increased to about sixty, including twenty ladies ; and where this large party were to be stowed for the night, it was not easy to anticipate. In the cabin there was no appear- ance of sleeping-berths by day, but at night ranges of shelves were put up, and the chairs, benches, and tables, Mere all converted into beds. The portion of the cabin destined for the use of the ladies was obscured from observation by a curtain. In order to prevent partiality, there was a sort of lottery, in which each person drew forth a number which determined his position for the night. Fortune fixed me on the floor, and there I lay with the knee of one man thrust directly into my sto- mach, and with my feet resting upon the head of another. The sheets were offensively dirty, and the blankets not much better. The Americans dread the circulation of pure air ; and those in the vicinity of a window insisted on its being closed. Under these circumstances, the atmosphere be- came not only hot, but poisonous, and the act of inhala- tion was performed with disgust. Then there were legions of mosquitoes, whose carnival, from the use they made of it, seemed to have been preceded by a lent ; and to crown all, at least a dozen noses were snoring bass to an unmelodious treble which proceeded from the ladies' division of the cabin. One night of this kind was enough ; and so, at Monte- zuma, being anxious to see something of the smaller 398 SENECA LAKE — GENEVA — JEMIMA WILSON. t 11 : lakes, of whose beauty I hdCl heard a great deal, I re- moved into another packet-boat, and diverging into a branch canal which communicates with the Seneca lake, at niglit found myself in Geneva. The town makes a handsome display on an eminence near the northern extremity of the lake. It contains some three or four thousand inhabitants, several churches, and a school dignified by the name of a college. Near to the lake are a few pretty villas, and in the tovm a considerable number of respectable houses, built of hikk or stone. Geneva is the depot of the produce of xhe neighbouring country. It comes by the lake, and is then embarked on the canal for New York. Seneca is a fine sheet of water undoubtedly, but its scenery — so far ^s I saw it — presents nothing of remark- able beauty. It is about forty miles long, with a mean breadth of three or four. It is navigated by a steam- boat, in which, had the weather been cooler, I should probably have made a trip. As it was, the temptations of an arm-chair and a cool veranda were irresistible. The banks of the Seneca, like those of the Gareloeh, have been the chosen seat of miracles. Some vears ago, a woman called Jemima Wilson, announced herself as the Saviour of the world, and attracted a few follow- ers somewhat more mad than herself. While her mira- culous endowments were displayed only in the jabbering of unknown tongues, and unintelligible predictions, she stood on safe ground ; but unluckily her ambition point- ed to the honour of more palpable miracles. " Near Rapelyeas ferr} /' says the Northern Tourist, " the frame is still standing which Jemima constructed to try the faith of her followers. Having approached within a few hundred yards of the shore, she alighted from an elegant carriage, and the road being strewed by her followers with white handkerchiefs, she walked to the platform, and having announced her intention of walking across the lake on the water, she stepped ankle-deep into the she point- Near frame ry the a few ilegant CANANDAIGUA — GENESEE FALLS. 399 clear element, when suddenly pausing, she addressed the multitude, enquiring whether they had faith that she could pass over, for if otherwise, she could not ; and on receiving an affirmative answer, returned to her car- riage, declaring, that as they believed in her power, it was unnecessary to display it." Miss Campbell, I believe, with similar pretensions, has been equally prudent in putting them to the proof. On the night following, I left Geneva, by the Roches- ter stage. By day-dawn, we reached Canandaigua, which stands at the northern extremity of a beautiful lake, of which I caught a few glimpses in the moonshine. Canandaigua is a pretty village, and certainly the situa- tion has a good deal of charm. More attention seems to have been paid here than elsewhere, to external deco- ration. The better houses are surrounded by ornamen- tal trees, and the number of these is so considerable as to give a character to the place. In general, however, I have not been struck with, what in this country are called " beautiful villages." These consist almost uni- formly of rows of white framework houses, with green blinds and shutters ; but they are flimsy in point of ma- terial, and the colours are too glaring to harmonize with the surrounding scenery. We reached Rochester under the influence of a burn- ing sun. The hotel was excellent, and luxury of cold baths, and the civility of the landlord, induced me to delay progress till the following day. In the cool of the evening, I strolled out to see the falls of the Geneseo. The height of the uppermost is considerable, being about ninety feet, and the water rushes over it grucefully enough; but the vicinity of sundry saw and corn mills has destroy- ed the romantic interest which invested it in the davs when " the cataract blew his trumpet from the steep," amid the stillness of the surrounding forest. The old proverb de gustihus, ^c, receives illustration in every country. An eccentric man, called Sam Patch, 1 i) i 400 ROCHESTER. having an aversion to honest industry, made it his pro- fession to jump over all the waterfalls in the country. Niagara was too much for him, but he sprang from a lofty rock, some distance below the Horse-shoe fall, with impunity. His last jump was at the fall I have just described of the Genesee, in the autumn of 1 829. From a scaffold elevated twenty-five feet above the table rock, making a descent altogether of a hundred and twenty- five feet, he fearlessly plunged into the boiling caldron beneath. From the moment of his immersion, he was seen no more. His body was not discovered for many months, and was at length found at the mouth of the river, six miles below. Rochester is a place worth seeing. Twenty years ago there was not a house in the neighbourhood, and now there is a town, containing thirteen thousand good Americans and true, with churches, banks, theatres, and all other oppidan appurtenances to match. Such growth is more like forcing in a hot-bed, than the natural pro- gress of human vegetation. For a great deal of its [)rn- sperity, Rochester is indebted to the Erie canal, which brought its advantageous proximity to Lake Ontario into full play. The canal runs through the centre of the town, and crosses the Genesee by an aqueduct which, according to the Northern Tourist, " cost rising of 80,000 dollars," whatever sum that may amount to. There are several streets in Rochester which might be backed at reasonable odds, against any in Hull or New- castle, to say nothing of Cork, Falmouth, or Berwick- upon-Tweed. The appearance of the shops indicates the prevalence of respectable opulence. Those of ihe jewellers display a stock of Paris trinkets and silver snufi*-boxes. There are silks and Leghorn bonnets for the seduction of the ladies, and the windows of the tailors are adorned by coloured prints of gentlemen in tight fitting, swallow tails, with the epigraph, " New York fashions for May." THE RIDGE ROAD — MORMONITES. 401 After passing a comfortable day and night in the Eagle tavern, whieli I strongly recommend to all future travellers, I took my departure from Rochester in the Lockport stage. We travelled by the " ridge road," which is composed of hard sand, and extends along what has evidently in former times been the embankment of Ontario. This ridge road, therefore, is entirely of na- ture's making, and I shall die in the belief that it is the very best in the United States. The coach rolled on as smoothlv as it could have done between Tiondon and St Albans, and I began to think of reading, to have attempted which, in other portions of my peregrination, would have been strongly indicative of insanity. I am aware of little which merits record in the journey to Lockport, except the unwonted luxury in which it was performed. Towards evening, we passed a camp meeting, to which several of the passengers directed their steps, and which, under other circumstances, I should have been glad to visit. We passed also several parties of what were called Mormonites, going to join a settlement established by their founder, in Ohio. Rela- tive to this sect, of which I had never before heard, I "leaned the following particulars from one of the pas- sengers. A bankrui»t storekeepci', whose name, I think was Smith, had an extraordinary dream. It directed him to go alone to a particular spot, distinctly indicated, where he was to dig to a certain dei)th. This dreum was of course treated as a mere delusion, and, as is usual in such cases, was thrice repeated, with denunciation of heavy punishment in case of disobedience. In this emergency. Smith judged it more prudent to shoulder his spade, than by further obstinacy to excite the vengeance of some unearthly intelligence. Having dug to the requisite depth in the place ccmmanded, he found a book with golden clasps and cover, and a pair of ele- gantly mounted spectacles, somewhat old-fashioned to be sure, but astonishing magnifiers, and possessing qua- 2c i! tBt> r m 402 HISTORY OP MORMONISM. lities which it might puzzle Sir David Brewster to explain on optical principles. Smith had some difficulty in undoing the clasps of this precious volume; but on opening it, though his eyes were good, it appeared to contain nothing but bLank paper. It then occurred to him to fit on his spectacles, when, lo! the whole volume was filled with certain figures and pot-hooks to him unintelligible. Delighted with his good fortune. Smith trudged home with the volume in his pocket and the spectacles on his nose, happy as bibliomaniac who has been lucky enough to purchase some rare Editio Princeps " dog cheap" from the ignorant proprietor of an obscure bookstall. On reaching his own house, his first care was to secure his miraculous treasures from profane observation ; his se- cond, to copy out a page or two of the characters, and look about for an interpreter. His search was long fruitless, but at length he hit on precisely the two indi- viduals who were qualified conjointly for the oftice. One of these gentlemen possessed the faculty of reading the hieroglyhics, and the other of interpreting them. It then appeared that the volume in question was entitled the Book of Morr/ion, a converted Rabbi, who flourished in the days of o\ir Saviour, or shortly after, and who, by the aid of d' vine inspiration, wrote the treatise in question in elucidation of all the dark points of religion which, to the present day, continue to puzzle theologians. Smith's worldly prospects now brightened. With this inv.aluable treatise in his strong box, he commenced business afresh, under the firm of Mormon, Smith, and Co., and appears to possess an unlimited credit on the credulity of his followers. He has set up an establish- ment something similar to that of Mr Owen, and already boasts a considerable number of opulent believers. We slept at Loekport, in a dirty and uncomfortable tavern. In the morning we were again in motion. At Lewiston, a village on the frontier, I quitted the stage, i QUEENSTON — NIAGARA RIVER. 403 and dispatched a messenger across the river to secure an extra exclusive for Niagara. The delay occasioned by breakfast to an impatient traveller is generally not great, and entering the ferry-boat, I soon found myself once more on British ground. At Queenston, judging from their accent, the majority of the inhabitants are Scotch ; and certainly, to my ear, the Doric of my country never sounded so musical before. About a mile from the landing-place, are the heights of Queen- ston, which, during the late war, were gallantly and successfully defended by a small body of British, under Sir Isaac Brock, against an American force nearly ten times their number. The latter, however, consisted chiefly of militia ; and had the achievement not unfortu- nately been rendered memorable by the death of the British leader, it would probably, like most other events of the war, have been forgotten. Its memory, however, has been perpetuated by the erection of a trophy column on the summit of the height. It is composed of free- stone, and about a hundred and twenty feet high. I am not sure that in point of architecture it is quite faultless. The shaft struck me as wanting height in proportion to its diameter, and the general outline somewhat resembles that of an apothecary's phial. Were it surmounted by a statue, the effect would undoubtedly be improved. The Niagara, at Queenston, is about a quarter of a mile broad ; the current is rapid, and the depth very great — not les?, I believe, than two hundred feet. The colour of the water is a nondescript and very beautiful shade between azure and green. The banks for several miles are high and precipitous, and covered with the primeval forest. Having reached Queenston, horses were immediately harnessed to a light open carriage, and we rattled off. The distance is about seven miles, and the road very tolerable. As we advanced, both eye and ear were awake to 'letect indication of our increasing proximity to th« 8 \m: fl>; P ^■i '^\ ;i: i \\ 404 NIAGARA — THE HORSE-SIIOE FALL. 11 fi» Falls. At length a cloud of white vapour, rising liich above the foliage of the distant forest, announced the situation of the great cataract. Shortly after, I could detect a hollow rumbling sound like that of thunder ; but though the distance was every instant diminishing, it did not proportionately increase in loudness or inten- sity. About twelve o'clock I found myself in Forsyth's hotel, a large and not uncomfortalvle house, about half a mile distant from the Great Horse-shoe Fall. It stands upon a high level of table land, and from the upper balcony the falls are distinctly visibhi. To a stranger visiting Niagara for the first time, I do not know that this circumstance is very desirable, and I confess the view did, in my own case, carry with it something of disappointment. The truth is, that from Forsyth's you see the upper portion of the Fall ; but at least one half of the descent, the boiling caldron below, and the impenetrable mass of vapour with which it is sublimely and mysteriously encanopied, you do not see. No sooner had I reached the hotel, than the morning, which had been lowering with dark and threatening clouds, set in with an absolute tempest of wind and rain. It was impossible to rest, however, before gazing on the great wonder which I travelled so far to behold ; so, throwing on my cloak, I sallied forth, bidding defi- ance to the elements. The banks which descend to the bed of the river are very steep, and were so slippery, tliat I encountered more than one tumble in my pro- gress. But this was nothing ; and most amply was I repaid for all the troubles of my journey, when in a few minutes I found myself standing on tiie very brink of this tremendous yet most beautiful cataract. The spot from which I first beheld it was the Table rock, and of the effect produced by the over- whelming sublimity of the spectacle, it is not possible to lembody in words any adequate description. The spec- n FIRST BIPRESSION OF THE FALLS, 405 T^is and the ovor- Iblo to spoc- owii'.r.g tator at first feels as if stricken with catalepsy blood ceases to flow, or rather is sent back in ovf !«( ing pressure on the heart. He gasps, like a d man, to catch a mouthful of breath. " All elementa of soul anc sen.^e" are absorbed in the magnitude and glory of one single object. The past and futve are obliterated, and he stands mute and powerless, in the presence of that scene of awful splendour on which his gaze is riveted. In attempting to convey to those who have never visited the Falls, any notion of the impression which they produce, 1 believe it impossible to escape the charge of exaggeration. The penalty is one which 1 am prepared to pay. Bub the objects presented by Niagara are undoubtedly among those which exercise a perma- nent influence on the imagination of the spectator. The day — the hour — the minute — when his eye first rested on the Great Horse-shoe Fall, is an epoch in the life of any man. He gazes on a scene of splendour and sub- limity far greater than the unaided fancy of poet or painter ever pictured. He has received an impression which time cannot diminish, and death only can efface. The results of that single moment will extend through a lifetime, enlarge the sphere of thought, and. influence the whole tissue of his moral being. I remained on the Table rock till drenched to the skin, and still lingered in the hope that some flash of the light- ning — which had become very vivid — might disclose the secrets of the cloudy and mysterious caldron, into which the eye vainly endeavoui'ed to penetrate. But I was dis- appointed. Far overhead the fearful revelry of the ele- ments still continued ; but the lightning seemed to shun all approach to an object of sublimity equal to its own. My window in the hotel commanded a view of the Falls, and their deep and hollow roar was at all times distinctly audible. I mention this, because, during the whole of my stay, the circumstance was accompanied by 406 DESCENT INTO THE BED OF THE RIVER. serious annoyance. At night it was impossible to enjov any thing which could be called sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes, there was a torrent foaming before them. Amid the darkness of midnight I was still gazing on the Horse-shoe ; and the noise of the cataract, mingling with these visions of a perturbed imagination, contributed to keep up the delusion. My dreams were of rapids and watei-falls, and the exhaustion produced by this state of continual fever became so great, that by day I often wandered to the quiet recesses of the forest, where, un- disturbed by the din of waters, I might enjoy a comfort- able nap. On the day after my arrival, the weather having fortunately become fine, my hours were devoted to the Horse-shoe, which I viewed from every favourable point. About half a mile below, there is a shantee or log tavern, where brandy is attainable by gentlemen of sluggisli temperament, who, surrounded by such objects, still require the stimulus of alcohol. From this tavern there is a circular wooden stair which leads down inio the bed of the river, and on descending, I found myself at once immersed in a region of eternal moisture. By dint of scrambling along the debris of the overlnnging rocks, I contrived to approach within a short dist. ice of the Fall ; and so powerful is the impression hen t)ro- duced, that a considerable time elapses before the : ^)ee- tator can command his faculties in a sufficient degree to examine its details. He stands amid a whirlwind of spray; and the gloom of the abyss, the dark firmament of rock which threatens destruction to the intruder, the terrors of the descending torrent, the thunder of its roar, and the fearful convulsion of the waters into which it falls, constitute the features of a scene, the sublimity of which undoubtedly extends to the very verge of horror. The epithet of " the Horse-shoe" is no longer appli- cable to the greater Fall. In the progress of those changes which are continually taking place from the ADVANCE BEHIND THE CASCADE. 407 attrition of the cataract, it has assumed a form which I should describe as that of a semi-hexagon. The vast body of water in the centre of this figure, descends in one unbroken sheet of vivid green, and contrasts finely with the awful perturbation of the caldron. But to- wards either extremity it is different. The water there, at the very commencement of its descent, is shivered into particles inconceivably minute, and .assumes a thou- sand beautiful forms of spires and pinnacles, radiant with prismatic colours. In the vast receptacle beneath, the water is so com- minuted, and blended with air, carried down by the cascade — probably to the depth of many hundred feet — that none but suDstances of the greatest buoyancy could possibly float on it. The appearance of the sur- face is very remarkable. It is that of finely triturated silver^ in which, though the particles are in close prox- imity, there is no amalgamation. The whole mass is in convulsive and furious agitation, and continues so until, having receded to a considerable distance, the commotion gradually diminishes, and the water reas- sumes itc ordinary appearance. It is possible to advance a good way behind the cas- cade, and I determined to accomplish the achievement. Having marshalled my energies for the undertaking, I continued to advance, but the tempest of spray became suddenly so violent as apparently to preclude the possi- bility of further progress. I was driven back several yards, half suffocated and entirely blinded. But the guide encouraged me to i)roceed, and accordingly, Teucro diLce, I made another and more successful effort. Hav- ing penetrated behind the Fall, the only footing was a ledge of rock about two feet broad, which was occa- sionally narrowed by projections in the face of the cliff. But even under these circumstances the undertaking is one of difl[iculty, rather than of danger. A great por- tion of the air carried down by the cataract is imme- » V '. f i 408 CATARACT SEEN FROM WITHIN. diately disengaged, and the consequence is, that an intruder has to encounter a strong breeze which blows upwards from the caldron, and sometimes even dashes him with unpleasant violence against the rock along which he is scrambling. As a practical illustration of this, our conductor plunged fearlessly down the preci- pitous rock to the very edge of the gulf, and was imme- diately blown back, with little effort of his own, to our narrow pathway. At length, having advanced about fifty yards, the guide informed :ne that further progress was impracti- cable. I had certainly no objection to retrace my steps, for my lungs played with extreme difficulty, and the hurricane of wind and spray seemed to threaten utter extinction of sight. It was impossible, however, to depart without gazing on the wonder I had visited. Far overhead was a canopy of rock ; behind, the per- pendicular cliff. In front, the cascade — a glorious cur- tain — seemed to hang between us and the world. One's feelings were those of a prisoner. But never, surely, was there so magnificent a dungeon ! The noise of the great cataract is by no means over- powering. Even at its very brink, conversation may be carried on without any considerable elevation of the voice. The sound is that of thunder in its greatest intensity — deep, unbroken, sind unchanging. There is no hissing nor splashing — nothing which breaks sharply on the ear — nothing which conies in any degree into collision with the sounds of earth or air. Nothing ex- trinsic can either add to, or diminish its volume. It mingles with no other voice, and it absorbs none. It would be heard amid the roaring of a volcano, and yet does not drown the chirping of a sparrow. Visitors generally wish, however, for a greater crash on the tympanum, for something to stun and stupify, and return home, complaining that Niagara is less noisy than Trenton or the Cohoes. This is a mistake. The I SOUND OF THE CATARACT — THE RAPIDS. 409 wlume of sound produced by the Horse-shoe Fall, is far greater than they ever heard before, or jjrobably will ever hear again. When the atmosphere is in a condition favourable to act as a conductor, it may be heard at a distance of fifteen, and even twenty miles. A passenger in the coach, who lived six miles beyond Lewiston, assured me, that in particular states of the barometer, the noise was there distinctly perceptible. But it should be remembered that the great body of sound is generated in a cavern far below the level of the surrounding country, and fenced in on three sides by walls of perpendicular rock. The noise vibrates from side to side of this sunless cavity, and only a small portion escapes into the upper air, through the dense canopy of spray and vapour by which it is overhung. As an experiment, I employed a man to fire a musket below, while I stood on the Table rock. The report was certainly audible, but scarcely louder than that of a popgun. Having devoted three days to the Horse-shoe, I rode up the river to survey its course above the Falls. Shortly after issuing from Lake Erie, the Niagara is divided by a huge island about seven miles in length. Lower is another island, of smaller dimensions, and having passed these, the river is about two miles in breadth, and tran- quil as a lake. At Chippewa, about three miles above the Falls, navigation terminates. At a short distance below, the stream evidently begins to accelerate its motion. There are no waves, however, nor is there any violent agitation of the current ; nothing, in short, which seems to presage the scene of terrific agitation so soon to ensue. Further down is Goat Island, which divides the river into two branches, and forms the sepa- ration between the Falls. It is at the higher extremity of this Island that the rapids commence. The grandeur of these rapids is worthy of the catar- Ml illi I w 410 THE AMERICAN FALL. acts in which they terminate. In the greater branch, the river comes foaming down with prodigious impetu- osity, and presents a surface of agitated billows, dashing wildly through the rocks and islands. This scene of commotion continues till within about thirty yards of the Fall. There the great body of the stream resumes its tranquillity, and in solemn grandeur descends into the cloudy and unfathomable atjyss. Never was there a nobler prelude to a sublime catastrophe ! I at length crossed to the American side. If there were no Horse-shoe Fall, the American would be the wonder of the world. Seen from below it is very noble. The whole body of water is at once shattered into foam, and comes down in a thousand feathery and fantastic shapes, which, in a bright sunshine — as I beheld them — were resplendently beautiful. But the form of the American fall is unfortunate. A straight line is never favourable to beauty, and the cataract descends not into a dark abyss of convulsed and fathomless waters, but amid fragments of rock, from which it again rushes on- ward to the main bed of the river. In short, a traveller from the Canadian side has very little disposable admi- ration to lavish on this splendid object, and generally regards it with a cold and negligent eye. In order to reach Goat Island, it is necessary to cross two bridges. One of these certainly is a very remark- able work. It leads across a rapid of tremendous velo- city, and does honour to the engineer by whom it was constructed. Goat Island is covered with wood, and by the public spirit of its proprietor, General Porter, has been intersected with walks, trending to the diffe- rent points from which the finest views may be com- manded. From this island, a bridge — or rather pier — has been erected, which leads the spectator to a point where the frail structure on which he stands is directly over the great abyss of the Horse-shoe. As a trial of I nerves, i strong o can look The pre\ partial to of it. the Fall, pictorial The I with evei is necessj a quarter longer ; b sions indi retrace m In the nothing e waking re my stay it ed, when, the river, in the neij ter of a ra of huge t them sue the extrei descent, mast of "si times engi with fury i increased forest giar the precip Nothinj is ever see; some yeai over the I GOAT ISLAND — THE CALDRON. 411 nerves, this is very well. The man, assuredly, has strong ones, who, from the extremity of this platform, can look beneath without quivering in every muscle. The prevailing feeling is that of horror, and a spectator partial to inordinate excitement, may here get enough of it. But his eye can rest only on a small portion of the Fall, and the position is decidedly unfavourable for pictorial effect. The bridge is but a fragile structure, and vibrates with every motion, especially at the extremity where it is necessarily without support. I stood there for about a quarter of an hour, and should probably have remained longer ; but the approach of a gentleman, whose dimen- sions indicated a weight of twenty stone, induced me to retrace my steps with all convenient speed. In the neighbourhood of the Falls, one can think of nothing else. They affect all thoughts and impulses, the waking reverie and the midnight dream. Every day of my stay it was the same. Scarcely was breakfast conclud- ed, when, putting a book in my pocket, I sallied down to the river, to lose and neglect the creeping hours of time, in the neighbourhood of the Horse-shoe. About a quar- ter of a mile above, the stream had deposited a number of huge trees, and I employed several men to launch them successively into the stream, while I stood on the extreme point of the Table rock to observe their descent. One by one, the vast masses — each fit for the mastof "some high ammiral" — camefloating down, some- times engulfed in the foaming eddies, sometimes driven with fury against the rocks, and then rushing onward with increased velocity, till reaching the smooth water, the forest giants were floated slowly onward to the brink of the precipice, when they were seen no more. Nothing which enters the awful caldron of the Fall, is ever seen to emerge from it. Of three gun-boats which, some years after the termination of the war, were sent over the Falls, one fragment only, about a foot in length, 412 SURROUNDING COUNTRY. ever was discovered. It was found near Kingston, about a month after the descent of the vessels,* The country around Niagara is picturesque, and in a fine state of cultivation. English habits of agriculture • Before quitting the subject of the Falls, I would willingly say some- thing which may be of use to future visitors. It is usual witli these persons to take up their abode at Manchester, and give the first day or two to the American Fall and Goat Island. This strikes me as bad policy. The American Fall is just fine enough to impair the subsequent impression of the Horse-shoe. By adhering to this routine, visitors come to the latter with an appetite partially sated, and the efi'ectof the first burst of this sublime object is diminislied I would "(I vise all tra vellers, therefore, to proceed first to Forsyth's, but by no means to indulge in any preliminary view of the Falls from the windows or balcony. Let the visitor repair at once to the Table rock, and there receive his first impression of the cataract. I would recommend him next to proceed lower down on the Canadian side, where there are many points from which he may become master of the general grouping of the landscape. His attention may then be directed to the rapids; and, to see them to advantage, he should walk as far as Chippewa, and return — with a little scrambling and wading, it is very possible — by the margin of the river. On the day following let him descend to the bed of the river, and gaze on the cataract from below. Having done this, he may cross to the American side, and from midway on the river, he "will see the only view of the Falls which I think it possible for the painter to give with any thing like adequate effect. Nothing, in truth, can be more splendid than the amphitheatre of cataracts, by which be there seems almost surrounded. With regard to the time which a traveller should give to the Falls, it is impossible to fix on any definite period, The imagination requires some time to expand itself, in order to take in the vastncss of the objects. At first, the agitation of nerve is too great. A spectator can only gaze — he cannot contemplate. For some days the impression of their glory and magnitude will increase ; and so long as this is thecase, let him remain. His time could not be better spent. He is hoarding up a store of sublime memories for his whole future life. But intimacy — such is our nature — degenerates into familiarity. He will at length begin to gaze on the scene around him with a listless eye. His imagina- tion, in short, is palled with excess of excitement. Let him watch for this crisis, and whenever he perceives it, pack up his portmanteau and depart. Niagara can do nothing more for him, and it should be his object to bear with him the deepest and most intense impression of its glories. Let him dream of these, but return to them no more. A second visit could only tend to unsettle and efface the impression of the first. Were I within a mile of Niagara, I should turn my steps in the opposite direction. Every passing year diminishes our susceptibility, and who would voluntarily bring to such objects a cold heart, and faded imaginatioQ ? t INHABITANTS OF FPPER CANADA. 413 evidently prevail. There is a greater appearance of neatness than I have seen any where in the United States. The fences are in excellent order, and the fields are not disfigured by stumps of decaying timber. The farms are in general large ; many contain two hun- dred acres of cleared land, and their owners are reputed wealthy. I dined with one of these gentlemen, and found comfort combined with hospitality. But of the lower orders in the Upper Province it is impossible to speak favourably. They have all the disagreeable quali- ties of the Americans, with none of that energy and spirit of enterprise which often convert a bad man into a useful citizen. They are sluggish, obstinate, ignorant, offensive in manner, and depraved in morals, without loyalty, and without religion. Of course, in a country to which the tide of emigration sets in so strongly, and a mass of imported principle and intelligence is annually mingled with that of native growth, such observations must necessarily be limited in their application. I would be understood, therefore, as speaking chiefly of the older settlers, who consisted in a great measure of the refuse of disbanded regiments, and of adventurers who brought with them neither capital nor character. Of late years Canada has been enriched by the addition of a number of naval and military officers, whom these piping times of peace have left without professional employment. Men of pro])erty and enterprise have likewise embarked large sums in the improvement of this fertile region ; the expenditure of the British Government has enrich(7il the province with works of great splendour and utility ; industry is unfettered, taxation almost unknown ; and, with such elements of prosperity, Canada may now safely be trusted to her own resources. i 1 h I '111 414 DEPARTURE FROM NIAGARA— FORT GEORGE. CHAPTER XX. JODRXEY TO QUEBEC. Having passed a week at Niagara, and seen the Falls under every aspect, in 'loud and sunshine, in storm and calm, by star and moonlight, I took my departure. About four miles below is a very remarkable whirlpool, which I visited on my way to Fort George. This whirlpool is caused by the protrusion of a bed of rock across the rectilinear course of the river. The stream comes down with great impetuosity, and, when driven back by this obstacle, the current whirls round the basin with prodigious violence, and at length escapes in a direction nearly at right angles with its former course. The water has the appearance of molten lead, and the people in the neighbourhood declare, that from the eddies of this vortex nothing living can escape. Even boats have been absorbed by thom ; and, when this happens, there is no possibility of help from the shore. The boat upsets, and the men are drowned ; or, if not, the boat is kept whirling round with the stream for perhaps a fortnight together, and the men are starved. Such were stated to be the horns of the dilemma. Fort George is a military station at the mouth of the river, and the works, originally built of turf, have been suffered to go to decay. It is better it should be so ; for it would be easy at any time to thron- up others, and all the immediate expense is avoided. On the opposite side is the American Fort Niagara, which, though built of stone, does not present an aspect much more formid- able than its British rival. The latter was garrisoned by a party of the 7*Jth regiment, and I own the pleasure with which I saw, in this remote district, our national flag and uniform, was very great. I no longer felt as a VOYAGE TO YORK — YORK. 415 stranger in the land, and caught myself almost uncon- sciously doing the honours to a very pleasant party of Americans whom I accompanied in a ramble through the ruinous intrenchmonts and dismantled works. A steam-boat starts daily from Fort George for York, the capital of Upper Canada. I certainly never made a trip in a more comfortable vessel. It was commanded by a half-pay officer of the navy, and, in point of clean- liness and nicety of arrangement, formed a strong con- trast to the larger and more splendid vessels of the United States. Our steamer started about twelve o'clock. In five hours we had crossed the extremity of Lake Ontario, and were safely landed at York. In a body of water so extensive, one does not see a great deal of the scenery on shore. I saw enough, however, to con- vince me that the shores of Ontario are flat and devoid of beauty. York has few objects to interest a traveller. It stands in a level and marshy country, and contains about fi\e thousand inhabitants. It was once — I believe twice — taken by the Americans during the war, and is in truth a place scarcely capable of defence. There is no com- manding point for the erection of a fort or battery ; and the only one at present existing, ' ould afford very in- adequate protection in case of attack. The place, how- ever, is prosperous, and the price of building-ground struck me as very high. The Government house is of wood — rather a singular circumstance, since brick is a common building material in the town. There is a college at York, which seems to be con- ducted on judicious principles. The public buildings are just what they ought to be, plain and substantial. In pass'ng through the streets, I was rather sui-prised to observe an afiche intimating that ice creams were to be had within. The weather being hot, I entered, and found the master of the establishment to be an Italian. I never eat better ice at Grange's. y I %i i 1 V » ■| ; T^ n i! j; f 7!; '1' j \ t i 1 '! 1 1 i1 1 I 416 LAKE ONTARIO — KINGSTON. Having passed a day at York, I sailed in a very noble ste.amer, called the Groat Britain, to Preseott, at the northern extremity of the lake. Our day's voyage pre- sented nothing remarkable, ])ut at night it came on to blow very hard, and our vessel, though one of the largest class, kept pitching very disagreeably. In the morning no land was visible, the waves were very hitjh, and Ontario — not unsuccessfully — seemed to ape the Atlantic. Towards the middle of the lake the water is of a deep blue colour. \Ve stopped for an hour at Kingston, a place of con- siderable population, and certainly far better adapted than York to become the cai)ital of the province. Its situation is so strong as to afford complete security from a coup-de-main, and there is a fort which completely commands both town and harbour. In the dockyard there are two seventy-fours on the stocks, the building of which was arrested by the peace. During the war, Kingston, from its fine harbour, and other natural advantag -s, was a place of much conse- quence. Sackett's haibour, the rival American port, is altogether inferior. The manner in which the lake war- fare was conducted, affords a fine specimen of the folly and ignorance of a British Government. Frigates were sent out in frame to a country covered with the fin^t timber, and the mere expense of conveying these from Montreal to Kingston, was greater than similar vessels could have been built for on the spot. The Navy Board were particularly careful that the armaments should not suffer from a deficiency of water-casks, though it was only necessary to drop a bucket to procure water of the finest quality from the lake ; and, to crown the absur- dity, an apparatus for distilling sea-water was supplied for each vessel ! Having passed Kingston, we were fairly in the St Lawrence, and the scenery became very striking. To- wards evening we passed through that portion of the DESCENT OF THE ST LAWRENCE. 417 river called the Lake of the Thousand Isles. Nothing could be more beautiful, wlien seen in the light of a brilliant sunset. The islands are of all sizes — some only a few yards in extent, others upwards of a mile. One could fancy many of them to be — what they are not — the retreat of innocence and peace. Their number has never been correctly ascertained, but is generally estimated to be near two thousand. The voyage terminated at a miserable village called Prescott, where we supped, slept, and brci. ..fasted. I had been fortunate in meeting a detachment of the 71st regiment on board the Great Britain, who were about to descend the St Lawrence in batteaux to Montreal. The officers obligingly invited me to join their party — an arrangement too agreeable to be declined. The detachment consisted of about fifty men and three officers, and four boats were provided for their accom- modation. One of these, intended for the officers, was fitted up with an awning, and by a judicious arrange- ment of the cloaks and portmanteaus, the whole party were comfortably provided with seats. About ten o'clock we started. The boatmen were all natives of the Lower province, and spoke English with difficulty. A merrier set of beings it is scarcely possible to imagine. The buoyancy of their spirits was continually finding vent in song or laughter, unless when we approached a rapid, or our commander, tired of the incessant noise, thought proper to enjoin silence. The rapids of the St Lawrence rank in the first order of sublimities. They are caused by a great contraction and sudden descent in the bed of the river, and are gene- rally accompanied by numerous islands and rocks in the middle of the stream. The river, thus pent up and obstructed, is thrown into a violent perturbation, and rushes onward with tremendous fury, roaring, dashing, and foaming in a manner truly formidable to weak nerves. When one looks at the turbulence of the waters, and 2d 1 T: i 418 THE RAPIDS. the terrific eddies and whirlpools into *vhich they are thrown by the conflicc of opposing currents, it at first seems impossible that a boat can escape being dashed to pieces, and in truth it is only by the most skilful pilot- age that such a consummation is avoided. The life or death of a party is often decided by a single touch of the helm, and it is occasionally necessary to pass even within a yard or two of a spot which keel never crossed without instant destruction. On approaching any formidable rapid all is silent on board. The conductor is at the helm, and each of the crew at his post. All eyes are steadfastly fixed on the countenance of the helmsman, whose commands seldom require to be expressed in words. Every look is under- stood and obeyed, with the promptitude of men who know their peril. Accidents rarely occur, and in truth the danger is just imminent enough to create a pleasant degree of excitement in the voyager. He knows tliat he is not safe, and that his chances of life depend on the skill and steadiness of the boatmen. I'lie probability of safety, however, greatly preponderates ; and the risk of being dashed to mummy on the rocks, though suflSeicnt- ly strong to excite his imagination, wants power to j)er- turb it. A few hours after leaving Prescott, yve entered the first rapid. It is called the Long Sault, and extends for about nine miles. We did the whole distance in little more than twenty minutes, and at some places our motion seemed rapid as that of a bird. One portion of the rapid, called the Big Pitch, is particularly formid- able. The river is there divided by an island into two arms of nearly equal dimensions, and tlie descent must be very great, for the stream dashes through the rocks with fearful violence, and sends up pyramids of spray. The chief point of danger, however, is where the branches, having passed the island, are again united, Men may talk of the charge of hostile 'vrmies, and no THE RAPIDS — LAKE ST FRANCIS. 419 110 doubt a poet may spin very pretty, and even sublime verses out of such matter. But 'the cliarge of hostile torrents is altogether a more magnificent aftair, and who shall describe the " dreadful revelry " of their conflict ? At the Big Pitch, the two arms of the St Lawrence rush against each other w'ith a thuiide; ing roar, and are shi- vered into spray by the violence of the concussion. The whole surface of the river boils like a caldron, and the water on either side is driven back from the centre to the margin in a multitude of eddies and whirlpools. It is only by slow degrees that the commotion ceases, and the ordinary aspect of the river is restored. In pjissing the scene of this alarming struggle, the boat for about a minute reeled and staggered very dis- agreeably, and two or three waves burst over us. Before we had time, however, to clear iua Avater from our eyes, the Big Pitch was past, and we were borne forward on water comparatively smooth. We slept at a poor village, the name of which I have forgotten. Our boatmen, who had ail day been pulling at the oars, like true Canadians, instead of going to bed got up a dance with the village girls, and the ball was only stopped by the re-ombarkation of the party on the following morning. The whole crew were drunk, with the exception of the conductor ; but the appearance of the first rapid sobered them in an instant. Our course now lay through Lake St Francis. There was not a breath of wind, and the assistance received from the (nu'rcnt was very trifling. The lake is nearly thirty miles long, and about ten or twelve in breadth. At its lower extremity is the village of St Regis, where, the boundary line of the United States leaving the St Lawrence, the river becomes exclusively Canadian. We breakfasted at Coteau du liac, and shot througli another rapid with the speed of an arrow. In order to facilitate the communication between the provinces, canals have been made by which those rapids may be avoided. The shores of the St Lawrence are checkered *i:. : t; lis iill il H'lli 420 ST LAWRENCE AND MISSISSIPPI. Wth with patches of cultivation, but not so much so as mate- rially to affect the general character of the scenery. Among rivers of first-rate magnitude, I imagine the palm of beauty must be yielded to the St Lawrence. In its aspect there is no dulness, no monotony. It is continually changing from the rapid to the lake — from excessive velocity of current to still and tranquil \vater, on which, but for sail and oar, the motion of the boat would be impereei)tible. Perhaps no two rivers afford a stronger contrast than the Mississippi and the St Lawrence. The scenery of the former is flat and unchanging ; of the lattei', infi- nitely diversified. The water of the Mississippi is ever dark and turbid ; the St Lawrence is beautifully clear. The Mississipi)i traverses a continent, and enlarges gra- dually from a mountain rivulet into a mighty river. The St Lawrence is an Adam at its birth. It knows no childhood, and attains at once to maturity. The current of the Mississippi is smooth and equable ; that of the St Lawrence rapid and impetuous. The volume of the Mississippi is continually influenced by the vicis- situdes of season ; it annually overflows its banks, and spreads a deluge over the surrounding region. The 8t Lawrence is the same at all seasons ; rains neither augment its mass, nor do droughts perce})til)ly diminish it. The channel of the St Lawrence leads through a succession of lakes. There are no lakes connected with the Mississippi. The St Lawrence, on approaching the termination of its course, gradually expands into a noble bay; and, amid a region bounded by forest and moun- tain, mingles almost imperceptibly with the ocean. The Mississippi pours its flood into the Gulf of Mexico by a number of branches flowing through a delta formed by the diluvium of its ow n waters.* • Those who wish to sec tlils pnrallcl followpd out with proater minuteness, I bog to refer to Mr Stuart's Travels in the United States, and those of Mr Uodgbon. LA CHINE — MONTREAL. 421 Nor is their effect on the spectator less different. The one is grand and beautiful ; the other awful and sublime. The St Lawrence delights the imagination ; the Mississippi overwhelms it. I shall not linger on the voyage. We passed the Cedar rapids and the Cascades, both of which are con- sidered more dangerous than the Long Sault. But their character is the same, and I shall spare the reader the trouble of perusing certain long descriptions which I find in my journal. Suffice it to say, that at night- fall our voyage terminated at La Chine, a village nine miles from Montreal. The ian was tolerable, but it must be confessed that the Canadian hotels are inferior to those of the United States, while the charges are considerably higher. There is no arrangement — no zeal to oblige, and the amount of civility at the disposal of a traveller is very limited. In the United States an Englishman becomes accus- tomed to indifference, and has rarely to encounter insolence. In a country like Canada, subjet^t to the British crown, he is apt lo expect more, and the chances are that he will find less. On the day following, I drove to Montreal, and was agreeably surprised by the appearance of the city. It stands on an island about thirty miles long, and at a short distance from the mountain whose name it bears The houses are entirely constructed of stone ; and the neatness of the buildings, and the general air of solidity and compactness, have a very pleasing effect to an eye accustomed to the trashy clap-board edifices of an Ame- rican town. It is t'.ic fashion in Montreal to cover the roofs of the houses with tin, so that, on looking down on it from t\\Q neighbouring heights, the city glitters Avith a mirror-like brightness. In the higher part of the town are some handsome streets, and the public build- ings are in the best taste — plain, substantial, and without pretension of any sort. The suburbs are I ''1 ! iSil 422 MONTREAL — CATHEDRAL — CONVENT. embellished by a number of tasteful residences, which are often surrounded by pleasure-grounds of consider- able beauty. The inhabitants are hospitable ; and the establishments of the more wealthy combine elegance witln comfort. The population of Montreal is about 30,000. The great majority of the mercantile class are English ; but the lower orders, both in language and appearanctv decidedly French. Their dress is at once primitive ami peculiar. Like the Spaniards, they wear a sash of c^. ^d worsted round the waist, a jacket, genoj-ally Oi ijlae or brown, and shoes fashicmed after the Indian mocasdin. The natix'os of the Montreal and Quebec districts are distinguished by the colour of their caps. The former wear the bonnet bleu ; the latter, the bonnet rouge.. The prevailing religion is the Catholic ; and the Cathedral does honour to the taste and spirit of the inhabitants. It is built of a bluish limestone, and of a fabric so substantial that it bids fair to outlast every church now extant in the United States. The style of architecture is Gothic ; and ihe only defects which struck me are a baroness of ornament — attributable, I inuigine, to a deficiency of fimds — and a glare of light, which injures the ofi'ect of the interior. There are several convents in Montreal, one of which I visited, in company with an eminent merchant of the city. The building is commodious and extensive, and the establishment consists of a mere saperieure) and twenty-four nuns. Its funds, which are considerable, are devoted to purposes of charity ; and I saw a little troop of or^i "i.is '.vhom they support and educate. There i.'-- 'Ikf-nise a:* iio^pital for the insane and incu- rable, wnieii '. JeeJir.ed Mii'ting. I saw several of the sistCi'L — pult,, UiU'Ui;lii; -?o )king beings — who, accus- tom u to the iiiiri* 'vitions of the sick-bed, fiit about with noiseless stey.u utid speak in a low and subdued 'SuUBEfJ INHABITANTS OF LOWER CANADA. 423 tone. Their garb is peculiar. It consists of a gown of light drab, plain muslin cap, black hood, a sort of tippet of white linen, and the usual adjuncts of rosary and crucifix. The interest excited by this pious and benevolent institution was certainly not diminished by the com- munications of my companion. " It is impossible," he said, " that I can look on this establishment without feelings of the deepest gratitude. Thirty -five years ago, I came to this city a penniless and friendless boy ; and I had not one friend or connexion in the colony from whom I might expect kindness. Shortly after my arrival I fell sick. I could not work, and was utterly destitute of the means of subsistence. In this situation, these charitable nuns received me into this house, nursed me with tenderness through a long and grievous illness, and supplied mo with the means of support, un- til by my own labour 1 was enabled to rid them of the burden. By God's providence, I have prospered iu the world. I am now rich, but never do I pass the gates of this institution without a silent blessing on its humble and pious inmates." Lord and Lady Aylmer were in Montreal, and their presence rendered it at once the scene of gaiety and hospitality. I passed a week there with great pleasure, and then embarked in one of those magnificent steamers which ply on the St Lawrence for Quebec. The dis- tance between the cities is a hundred and eighty miles, which is generally accomplished in about twenty hours. As we approached (Quebec, the scenery became more wild and mountainous. Cultivation rarely extends be- yond a mile or two from the river, and agriculture appears to be conducted by the Canadians of the Lower Province on the worst i)rineiplos. To me, they appeared a light-hearted and amial)lo people, who brave the chances of life, with apathy to its sufferings, and a keen sensation of its enjoyments. No contrast in humctn 424 QUEBEC. cliaractor nan bo greater than that exliibitod by tlio inhabitants of liower Canada and the United StatoH. The one, averse from all innovation, content to live as Ins fathers have done before him, sluggish, inert, and animated by strong local atta(!hment to the spot of his nativity. The other, active anfl speculating, never satisfied with his present (londition, emigrating wher- ever interest may direct, and influenced in every cir- cumstance by the groat j»rincip]e of turning th(! penny. The Canadian is undoubtedly the more imteresting; but (*n the standard of utility, I fear Joan ]ia[)tiste must yield the pas to Jonathan. (Quebec bears on its front the impress of nobility. By the most ol)tuse traveller, it cannot be mistaken for a mere commonplace anarts, and the vociferous revelry of young and idle officers, strike with pleasing novelty on the seiisi>s uf a traveller trom the I iiited States. The fortnight I passed at (Quebec is associated with pleasant memorit^i. By th blood on tile hand by which it is bestowed. The legislative bodies were not sittir ,% and I know nothing of Canadian politics. Thero is a Mr Papineau, however, who plays with great spirit the part of a colo- nial O'Connell. The field is not large, but he makes the most of it, and enjoys the dignity of being a thorn in the side of each successive governor. Mr Papineau and his i)arty are continually grumbling at being subject to British dominion ; but what would they have ? They pay no taxes. John Bull spends his money pretty freely among them, as they may see by the works on Cape Dia- mond, and the llideau ' anal. The latter must be of immediate and great benefit to both provinces ; but had the Canadians been left to their o\>ti resources, it could never have existed. What would they have? The Lower Province, at least, will not join the United States; and it is too jKor, and too lu'li»less, to set up for itself. Withdraw British capit.' 1 from the colony, and what would remain? Rags, poverty, and empty harbours. W^ith regard to the Upjjcr Province, the time is fast approaching when it will join the United States. Every thing tends towards this consummation. The canals which connect the vast chain of lakes with the Ohio and the Hudson, must accelerate its advent. The Canadian farmer already has easier access to the markets of New York and New Orleans than he has to that of Quebec. The mass of the people are re}>ublicans in politics and anarchists in morals. Let them go. The injury to England will be trifling. The eagle does not di'oop his wing for the loss of a feather. It is well, however, that British statesmen should steadily contemplate this event, and direct their policy accordingly. Let them not hope to conciliate this peo- ple by concession. " The mighty stream of tendency " cannot be arrested in its progress. But it will become a matter of grave consideration whether a province so ! in f ^ ^%.. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^ !.0 I.I 1.25 '" 11= IIIM 2.0 6' 1.8 U ill 1.6 (? /} v: e. ei 0% ^^^ .V '> r ■^1 w '/ Phote)graphic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14Sao (716 872-4503 <\ J -\ /ff//'\ ii. 430 BLUNDERS OF THE GOVERNMENT. circumstanced should be enriched by any further expen- diture of British revenue — whether England is still to lavish millions in building fortresses and constructing canals — and whether it I e not, on the whole, more con- sonant with political wisdom, to leave the improvemont of this vast region to individual enterprise, and the re- sults of an unshackled industry. The Canadians may rely on it, that whenever a con- siderable :^ajority of the people become hostile to the continuance of British connexion, they will find little difficulty in achieving their independence. England could hold them in subjection by the bayonet ; but she will not use it. She will bid them farewell ; give them her blessing, and leave them to follow their own course. Whether they will be happier or more prosperous, is a question which another century must probably deter- mine. When Lower Canada first came into the possession of Great Britain, the latter committed a great error in not insisting that her language should be adopted in all public instruments. The consequence is, that eighty years have passed, and the people are still French. The tie of com- munity of literature does not exist, and the only channel by which moral influence can be asserted or maintained has been wantonly closed. The people read — when they read any thing — French books ; French authorities are quoted in the law courts ; the French language is spoken in the streets ; French habits, French feelings, French prejudices abound every where. The lapse of three gene- rations has witnessed no advancement, moral or intel- lectual, in the Canadians of t'le Lower Province. They arc- now precisely what they were at the period of the conquest. Another decided blunder was the separation of Ca- nada into two provinces. This has prevented any gene- ral amalgamation of the population. One province is decidedly French; the other no less exclusively English, DIFFICULTY OP GOVERNING THE CANADAS. 431 or American. The latter enjoys a milder climate, and more fertile soil, and increases in wealth and population far more rapidly than its rival. It is to the Upper Pro- vince that the whole tide of emigration is directed. It is with the produce of the Upper Province that the ships navigating the St Lawrence are freighted ; Lower Canada exp.^rt^ little but lumber. The French Canadians, therefore, oppose every im- provement by wliich the rival province niay be benefited, and, with such feelings, collision on a thousand points is unavoidable. Internal improvement is impeded, for there could be no agreement as to the proportion of contribution to be furnished by each province. The breach, instead of healing, is annually widened, and Upper Canada is thrown into an intercourse with the United States, the result of which I have already ven- tured to predict. The government of Canada may in one sense be called a bed of roses, for it is full of thorns. Every governor must find it so. He has to deal with men of mean minds and selfish passions ; — to maintain the necessary privileges of the Crown ; — to prevent the rational freedom of a limited monarchy from degene- rating into the unbridled license of democracy. He is beset by clamour, and assailed by faction j and must either become the leader of one party, or offend both. His difficulties and emban'assments increase. He ap- peals for support to his government, and receives a letter of thanks and his recall. Such has been the story o? many governors of these troublesome provinces, and will probably be that of many more. But if any man be calculated to conciliate all the passions and prejudices of the Canadians, it is Lord Aylmer. His amiable character — his kind yet dig- nified manners — his practical good sense— his experi- ence of business, and extensive knowledge of the world y-n Vit i ii 432 DEPARTURE FROM QUEBEC. — can scarcely fail to exert a salutary influence in sooth- ing the asperities of party, and exposing the motives of turbulence, by depriving it of excuse. At the period of my visit to Canada, I rejoice to say it was so. In every society, I heard the new governor spohen of with respect, and even the " sweet voices" of the populace were in his favour. The travels of the Schoolmaster have not yet led him to these wintry regions. Few of the lower order of Canadians can read, and the education even of the more wealthy is very defective. The ladies resemble those of the United States, and are subject to the same prema- turity of decay. But they are pleasing and amiable, though given to commit sad slaughter among sensitive and romantic subalterns. The older stagers are gene- rally charm-proof, and the marriage of a major is an event as remarkable in the colony as the appearance of a comet. CHAPTER XXI. JOURNEY TO NEW YORE. I LEFT Quebec with regret, for it was nece..= firy to bid farewell to an agreeable circle, and an old friend. The voyage to Montreal presented nothing remarkable, and, after passing a fews days in that city, I prepared to return to the United States. After crossing the St Lawrence to Longueuil, it was discovered that a portmanteau had been left at Montreal. My servant, accordingly, returned in the steam-boat, while I was forced to wait several hours for his reap- pearance in a very miserable tavern. After all, this compulsory arrangement was not unfortunate. The heat was intense, and travelling, if not impossible, would LONGUEUIL — CHAMBLY. 433 have been very disagreeable. In order to pass the time I bathed in the river, read all the old newspapers the house could afford, and finally — discovering that the luxury of sofas was unknown at Longueuil — went to bed. Why this dirty and paltry village should be more tormented by flies than other places, I know not. Every room in the tavern absolutely swarmed with them. Myriads of these detestable insects, duly officered by blue-bottles, ki pt hovering around, and perched in whole battalions at every favourable opportunity on the face and hands of the victim. Under these circumstances, a siesta was impossible, and, on descending to dinner, I could at first discern nothing but four dishes of flies. The sight was not calculated to increase appetite, and during the meal a Avoman with a large fan was obliged to defend the table from their approach. It was not till evening that my servant returned with the port- manteau, and having procured a carriage, I lost not a moment in escaping from a village which appeared to suffer under a plague, unparalleled since the days of Pharaoh. The road to Chambly was execrable, and the journey both tedious and disagreeable. I passed the night there, and on the following morning proceeded to St John's. The road follows the course of the Sorell, which at St John's is somewhat more than a mile in breadth. A steam-boat, fortunately, was about to sail for Whitehall, at the southern extremity of Lake Champlain, and in ten minutes I was on board. From St John's, the river gradually widens till it reaches Isle aux Noix, a post of some strength, which is occupied by a British garrison. Here the traveller bids farewell to Canada, and enter* the territory of the United States. Lake Champlain is a beautiful sheet of water, about 140 miles long, with a mean breadth of about five or six. The surrounding country ia undulating, and in 2 £ Km 434 PLATTSBURG — LAKE GEORGE. most places yet unredeemed from a state of nature. It was the theatre of many interesting events in the early history of the colonies. Traces of the forts at Ticoii- derago and Crown Point are still visible. We passed Plattsburg, the scene of the unfortun e naval action in 1814. I was then serving in the colo- nies, and had a good deal of correspondence with Com- modore Sir James Yeo, relative to the charges he after- wards exhibited against Sir George Prevost.* The historian who would illustrate by facts the almost incre- dible amount of folly, ignorance, and imbecility, by which the arms of England may be tarnished, and her resources wasted with impunity, should bestow a care- ful examination on the details of the Plattsburg expedi- tion. He will then precisely understand how war can be turned into child's play, and its operations regulated, as in the royal game of Goose, by the twirl of a tee- totum. On the following morning I quitted the steam-boat, and, procuring a cart for the conveyance of my goods and chattels, walked across the mountains to Lake George. The scenery of this lake is celebrated, and though I visited it with high expectations, they were not disap- pointed. Lake George is thirty-six miles long, but rarely • When the order for retreat was given, Sir Manly Power, who com. manded a brigade, rode up to Sir George Prevost, and thus addressed hill : — " What is it I hear, Sir George ? Can it be possible that you have issued an order to retreat before this miserable body of undisci- plined militia? With one battalion I pledge myself to drive them from the fort in ten minutes. For God's sake, spare the army this disgrace. For your own sake — for the sake of us all — I implore you not i,o tarnish the honour of the British arms, by persisting in this order." Sir Georfje simply answered, " I have issued the order, and expect it to bo obeyed." In addition, it is only necessary to add, that the fort was of mud— that its garrison was only 3000 militia, while the retreating army consisted of 10,000 of the finest troops In the world. To heighten the disgrace, there was considerable sacrifice of stores and ammuni- tion I It is deeply to be lamented that the death of Sir George Pro- vest, shortly after his recall, prevented the investigation of his con- duct before a court martial. CALDWELL — FORT WILLIAM HENRY. 435 more than five broad. In form, >t resembles Winder- mere, but its features are bolder and more decided. The country, in general, is yet unreclaimed, and the sides of the mountains are clothed with wood to the summit. Embosomed in the lake are many beautiful islands, only one of which appeared to be inhabited. Here and there the shore was diversified by cultivation, and occasion- ally, near some quiet and retired haven, stood a log cottage, with which the fancy delighted to connect a thousand pleasing associations. The steam-boat which conveyed us through this beautiful region was somewhat old and rickety, and her progress slow. For the first time in my life I considered this an advantage. It was pleasant to linger in such a scene, to resign the spirit to its tranquil influence, to people the memory with fresh images of beauty, and at leisure to behold those objects on which the eye was destined to gaze but once. The voyage terminated at Caldwell, a small village at the southern extremity of the lake. The inn was com- fortable, and in the evening, having nothing better to do, I took a ramble in the neighbourhood. About half a mile distant are the remains of a British fort, called Fort William Henry. It was erected in 1755 by Sir William Johnson, and attacked in the same year by a French force under Baron Dieskau. The assailants were repulsed with great slaughter, and the loss of their general. In the following year, however, it was invested by Montcsilm, at the head of 10,000 men. Colonel Munro, the governor, made a gallant defence, but was at length forced to capitulate. The whole garrison were afterwards treacherously attacked and massacred by the Indians attached to Montcalm's army. The fort was destroyed, and has never since been rebuilt. On the following morning, I left Caldwell in the stage for Saratoga Springs, tlie Cheltenham of the United States. The road lay through a country of diversified I 11 I U«.III«U1. 436 FALLS OF THE HUDSON. features, and in a state of tolerable cultivation. It was only the end of June, yet the corn was yellow in the ear, and in many places the harvest had already com- menced. The crops were luxuriant, and the wheat ears struck me as larger than any I had ever seen in England. The Falls of the Hudson, which I stopped to examine, had not much to excite the admiration of a traveller fresh from Niagara and Lower Canada, yet they are fine in themselves ; and if the imagination could abstract them from the numerous saw and corn mills they are employed to set in motion, and represent them as they were in the days when the bear and panther lorded it in the surrounding forest, and the wild-deer came to slake his thirst in their basin, doubtless the impression •would be very striking. A fine waterfall is confessedly a noble feature in a landscape ; but when the surround- ing objects aie found to be utterly inconsistent with grandeur and harmony of effect, the eye turns from the scene with disappointment, and a sentiment even allied to disgust. We feel that nature has been defaced, and that utility has been obtained at the expense of a thousand picturesque beauties and romantic associations. There are people, no doubt, who are quite satisfied with seeing a certain mass of water precipitated from a given height, no matter by what process or in what situation. The cataract makes a grand splash, and they are satisfied. Their eye is offended by no inconsisten- cies, their ear by no discords. For them, there are no sublimities in nature, nor vulgarities in art. For minute and delicate beauty they have no eye, and estimate rock or mountain as they measure broad-cloth, by the yard. A blessing be on all such. They are honest men, no doubt, and useful. Their taste in dry goods may be unexceptionable, and they probably feel the whole beauty of a landscape — on a China basin. They will travel far to see a waterfall, or a lion, and if the former be made SARATOGA SPRINGS. 437 to turn a mill, or the latter a spit, their enjoyment will sustain prodigious augmentation. Saratoga has all the appearance of a watering-place„ There is a certain smartness about it ; an air of preten- sion, like that assumed by a beau who devours his shilling's worth of boiled beef in the Coal- Hole, or the Cheshire-Cheese. It may be called a village of hotels, for they abound in every street, and give a charactc* to the place. These establishments are on a large scale ; and that in which I took up my abode can accommodate two hundred visitors. To this village, company flock in summer from all parts of the Union ; and the Congress annually assembled there, affords a fair representation of all the beauty and fashion of the Union. The truth is, that such is the unhealthiness of the climate in all the Atlantic cities, from New York to New Orleans, that their inhabitants are forced to migrate for several months, in order to lay in a stock of health for the consumption of spring and winter. All direct their course northward. Some visit tlie sea ; others make a trip to Niagara and Canada ; and a considerable number are to be found congregated at Saratoga. When on the subject of climate, I may just mention, that there is no topic on which Americans are more jealously sensitive. It delights them to believe that theirs is in all respects a favoured land ; that between the St Lawrence and Mississippi the sky is brighter, the breezes more salubriou.% and the soil more fertile, than in any other region of the earth. There is no harm in all this ; — nay, it is laudable, if they would only not insist that all strangers should view the matter in the same light, and express admiration as rapturous as their own. Judging from my own experience, I should certainly pronounce the climate of the Northern and Central States to be only one degree better than that of Nova i 438 CLIMATE OF THE UNITED STATES. Scotia, which struck me — when there in 1814 — as being the very worst in the world. On making the American coast, we had four days of denser fog than I ever saw in London. After my arrival at New York, in November, the weather for about a week was very fine. It then became cloudy and tempestuous, and during the whole ])eriod of my residence at Boston, I scarcely saw the sun. At Philadelphia, there came on a deluge of snow, by which the ground was covered from January till March. At Baltimore, there was no improvement. Snow lay deep on the ground during the whole period of my residence at Washington, and the roads wore only passable with difficulty. On crossing the Alleghany Mountains, hoAv- ever, the weather became delightful, and continued so during the voyage to New Orleans. While I remained in that city, three days out of every four were oppres- sively close and sultry, and the atmosphei-e was damp and unpleasant to breathe. During my journey from Mobile to Charleston, though generally hotter than desi- rable, the weather was in the main bright and beautiful ; but the very day of my arrival at the latter place, tlie thermometer fell twenty degrees ; and in the 33d degree of latitude, in the month of May, the inmates of the hotel were crowding round a blazing fire. On my return to New York, I found the population still muffled in cloaks and great-coats, and the weather bitterly cold. Not a vestige of spring was discernible, at a season when, in England, the whole country is covered with verdure. During the last week of May, however, the heat became very great. At Quebec, it was almost intolerable, the thermometer ranging daily between 84*^ and 92''. At New York, in July, the weather was all a salamander could desire ; and I embarked for England under a sun more burning than it is at all probable I shall ever suflbr from again. In the Northern and Central States — for of the climate of the Southern States it is unnecessary to speak — the CLIMATE OF THE UNITED STATES. 439 ^) of ecame the At lander a sun sufier limate :— the annual range of the thermometer exceeds a hundred degrees. The heat in summer is that of Jamaica; the cold in winter that of Russia. Such enormous vicissi- tudes must necessarily impair the vigour of the human frame ; and when we take into calculation the vast por- tion of the United States in which the atmosphere is contaminated by marsh exhalations, it will not be diffi- cult, with the auxiliary influences of dram-drinking and tobacco-chewing, to account for the squalid and sickly aspect of the population. Among the peasantry, I never saw one florid and robust man, nor any one distinguished by that fulness and rotundity of muscle, which every where meets the eye in England. In many parts of the State of New fork the appear- ance of the inhabitants was such as to excite compassion. In the Maremma of Tuscany, and the Campagna of Rome, I had seen beings similar, but scarcely more wretched. In the " fall," as they call it, intermittent fevers come as regularly as the fruit season. During my journey I made enquiries at many cottages, and' found none of them had escaped the scourge. But enquiries were useless. The answer was generally too legible in the countenance of the withered mother, and in those of her emaciated offspring. It seems ridiculous to compare such a climate with that of England, and yet there is nothing to which Americans are more addicted. It is a subject regu- larly tabled in every society. " How delightful our climate must appear to you," observed a lady, " after the rain and fogs of your own country!" — " Whether, on the whole, do you prefer our climate or that of Italy?" enquired a gentleman of New York, in a tone of the most profound gravity. My answer, I fear, gave offence, for it became the signal for a general meteoro- logical attack. " I was three months in England," observed one, " and it rained every hour of the time." Though attached to the soil of my country, I had fi ■i 440 CLIMATE OF THE UNITED STATES. really no inclination to vindicate its atmosphere. I therefore simply replied, that the gentleman had been unfortunate in the period of his visit. But I was not suffered to esca])e thus. Another traveller declared he had boon nine months there without better luck ; and as the nine months added to the three, precisely made up the whole year, of covse I had nothing further to say. But this tone of triumph is not always tenable. During the days, weeks, and months vhen the weather is manifestly indefensible, the lo Pagans give place to apologies. A traveller is entreated, nay, soinotimes even implored, not to judge of the climate by the speci- men he has seen of it. Before his arrival, the skv was cloudless, and the atmosphere serene. He has just come in the nick of bad weather. Never, in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, was the snow so deep or so permanent. Never was spring so tardy in its approach, and never were vicissitudes of temperature so sudden and frequent. In short, he is desired to believe 'that the ordinary course of nature is suspended on his approach ; that his presence in an American city deranges the whole action of the elements. All this is simply a bore, and the annoyance merits record, only because it contributes to illustrate the American character in one of its most remarkable features — a restless and insatiable appetite for praise, which defies all restraint of reason or common sense. It is far from enough that a traveller should express himself delighted with the country and its inhabitants — that he should laud the beauty and fertility of the former, and all that is wise, dignified, and amiable in the latter : he is expected to extend his admiration even into the upper air — to feel hurricanes, and speak of zephyrs — to gaze on clouds, and behold the pure azure — and, while parching under the i:ifluence of a burning sun, to lower the thermometer of his words, and dilate on the genial and delightful warmth of the American summer. SARATOGA. 441 rican At Saratoga the company, as usual, dine in an enor- mous saloon, after which the gentlemen lounge about the balconies, smoking cigars, while the ladies within read, net purses, or endeavour to extract music from a jingling piano. At one or other of the hotels there is generally a ball ; and gentlemen, who seem to have studied dancing at some Shaker seminary, caper gal- lantly th'-ough the mazes of the waltz or the quadrille. In the morning all are abroad to drink the waters. The springs are numerous, and vary both in the effi- cacy and nature ol' their effects. I made the tour oi the most celebrated, and drank a tumbler of each. None of them are disagreeable to the taste, and all are slightly effervescent. The Congress spring is most in repute, and is supplied from a very neat fountain by boys, who dip the drinking-glasses into the well. This water is bottled, and sold all over the Union. Both in taste and appearance it resembles Seltzer. Among invalids the prevailing complaint was evi- dently dyspepsia, of which one hears a great deal more than is quite agreeable in the United States. Even ladies inflict their sufferings without compunction on the auditor. One — I confess she was married, and not young — assured me she had derived great benefit from employing an apothecary to manipulate her stomach every morning ! At the end of a fortnight she was quite cured ; and the practice of the apothecary became so extensive that he was obliged to employ assistant manipulators. After breakfast, the favourite place of resort was a lake about three miles distant, where the company drove in carriages to fish. There was a platform erected for the accommodation of the fishers, from which about fifty rods were simultaneously protruded. The scene was ludicrous enough. The rapture of a young lady or an elderly gentleman on securing a fish, apparently of the minnow species, would have made admirable matter for I ■ 442 BALLSTON — ALBANY. Matthews. There were two or three men whose sole occupation it was to bait hooks. During my stay none of the party had occasion for a landing-net. A few days of Saratoga were agreeable enough ; but the scene was too monotonous to maintain its attraction long. I became tired of it, and moved on to Ballston Spa, about seven miles distant. The Hotel at Ballston is excellent ; but the waters are considered inferior to those of Saratoga, and the place has been of late years comparatively deserted. Near the hotel is the house inhabited by Moreau during his residence in the United States. He quitted it to join the Allied army, and his fate is matter of history. With every allo\vi'nce for his situation, one cannot but feel that his fame would have rested on a firmer foundation, had he declined to bear arms inst his country. If Saratoga was dull, Ballston was stupid. There was nothing to be seen, and nothing to be done, except loit- ering in the neighbouring woods, which, being inter- sected by a river called the Kayaderoseras, presented some pretty scenery. The party in the hotel was nut numerous, and two days of Ballston were enough. On the third morning I departed for Albany. Albany presents, I believe, the only instance of feudal tenure in the United States. At the first settlement oi New York by the Dutch, a gentleman named Von llan- sellaer, received from the High and Mighty Lords a grant of the land on which Albany now stands, with the adjacent territory to the distance of twelve Dutch miles on every side. By far the greater portion of this princely domain has been disposed of on perpetual leases, with due reservation of all manorial privileges of tolls, quit-rents, right of minerals, proprietorship of mills, &c. &c. The present possessor still retains the title of Patroon, aud is one of the richest citizens of the Union. His family are treated with a sort of prescript *ve re- spect, which it will probably require another half-century -?sr RETURN TO NEW YORK — MR WEIR. 443 to eradicate. They are likewise the objects of some jealousy. From every civic office in Albany they are rigidly excluded. For the last time I embarked on the beautiful Hudson. I had many friends in New York, and my pleasure in returning to it was tinged with melancholy at the thought that I was so soon to part with them for ever. During my absence a change had come over the appearance of the city. I now saw it under the influence of a burn- ing sun. The gay and the weiLhy had deserted it; the busy only remained. By day the temperature was oppressive, and there was no moving out before evening. Th '^ theatres were open ; but who could enter them with the thermometer at ninety ? There was a mimic Vaux- hall, in the cool recesses of which one mig it eat ice in comfort, and an excellent French Cafe which afforded all manner of refreshment to an overheated pedestrian. In spite of the season, many of my friends wore in town, or at their villas in the neighbourhood. Hospitable doors were still open, as I had always found them. There was little gaiety ; but abundance of society. The former I die not want, the latter I enjoyed. It was at this period that I became acquainted with a young artisi who promises to occupy a high ronk in his profession. His name is Weir. Like Harding, he is full of talent and enthusiasm, and, if I do not mistake, his name is yet destined to become familiar to English ears. Mr Weir has enjoyed the advantage of passing several years in Italy, and has returned to his native city with a taste formed on the great masterpieces of ancient art, and a power of execution unusual in any country, to claim that patronage which genius too often demands in vain. I was much gratified by many of his pictures. He displays a fine sense of beauty in all ; but I was parti- cularly struck with one which represents ' dj^ing Greek. He has been wounded in the battle, and his limbs have II r 444 MR weir's pictures — AMERICAN PRESS. with difficulty borne him to the presence cf his mistress. His life-blood is fast ebbing, and his face is deadly pale. His head reclines on her arm, but the approach of death is indicated in the general relaxation of muscle, and we know not whether he be yet conscious of its pressure. The countenance which gazes downward with irrepres- sible agony on his, is animated by no gleam of hope. There is no convulsion of the features, because intense grief is uniformly calm. It is minor emotion alone which finds relief in tears. The composition is harmonious. A tower surmounted by a flag — a few palm-trees — the battlements of a citj in the second distance — and the setting sun, which sheds' a melancholy radiance on the scene, complete this simple and impressive picture. The sketches of Mr Weir are perhaps even finer than the more elaborate productions of his pencil — a circumstance which I am apt to consider as a test of power. I have the good fortune to possess one which I value very highly, and which has been ad- mired by many first-rate judges of art. Of the public press I have not yet spoken, and I have som( thing to say on it, though not a great deal. Every Englishman must be struck with the great inferi- ority of American newspapers to those of his own country. In order to form a fair estimate of their merit, I read newspapers from all parts of the Union, and found them utterly contemptible in point of talent, and dealing in abuse so virulent, as to excite a feeling of disgust not only with the writers, but with the public which afforded them support. Tried by this standard — and I know not how it can be objected to — the moral feeling of this people must be estimated lower than in any deductions from other circumstances I have ventured to rate it. Public men would appear to be proof against ail charges which are not naturally connected with the penitentiary or the gibbet. Th'~ war of politics seems not the contest of opinion supported by appeal to en- AMERICAN NEWSPAPERS. 445 lightened argument, and acknowledged principles, but the squabble of greedy and abusive partisans, appealing to tiie vilest passions of the populace, and utterly unscrupulous as to their instruments of attack. I assert this deliberately, and with a full recollection of the unwarrantable lengths to which political hostility in England i . too often carried. Our newspaper and periodical press is bad enough. Its sins against pro- priety cannot be justified, and ought not to be defended. But its violence is meekness — its liberty restraint — and even its atrocities are virtues, when compared with that system of brutal and ferocious outrage which distin- guishes the pre^s in America. In England, even an insinuation against personal honour is intolerable. A hint — a breath — the mere contemplation of a possibility of tarnish — such things are sufficient to poison the tran- quility, and, unless met by prompt vindication, to ruin the character of a public man ; but in America, it is thought necessary to have recourse to other weapons. The strongest epithets of a ruffian vocabulary are put in requisition. No villany is too gross or improbable to be attributed to a statesman in this intelligent commu- nity. An editor knows the swallow of his readers, and of course deals out nothing which he considers likely to stick in their gullet. He knows the fineness of their moral feelings, and his own interest leads him to keep within the limits of democratic propriety. The opponents of a candidate for office are rarely content with denouncing his principles, or deducing from the tenor of his political life, grounds for questioning the purity of his motives. They accuse lum boldly of bur- glary or arson, or, at the very least, of petty larceny. Time, place, and circumstance, are all stated. The candidate for Congress or the Presidency is broadly asserted to have picked pockets or pocketed silver spoons, or to have been guilty of something eqauUy mean and contemptible. Two instances of this occur at this I ' i 446 VIOLENCE OF THE PRESS. moment to my memory. In one newspaper, a member of Congress was denounced as having feloniously broken open a scrutoire, and having thence stolen certain bills and bank-notes ; another was charged with selling franks at twopence a-piece, and thus coppering his pocket at the expense of the public. It may be that such charges obtain little credit with the majority of the people, and I am willing to believe that in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred they are exag- gerated, or even absolutely false ; yet they evidently obtain credit somewhere, or they would not be made. However unfounded, the paper loses no support from having advanced them ; and where so much mud is thrown, the chances are, that some portion of it will stick. At all events, the tarnish left by the filthy and offensive missile cannot be obliterated. In such a case, innocence is no protection. The object of calumny feels in his inmost soul that he has suffered degradation. He cannot cherish the delusion that the purity of his charac- ter has placed him above suspicion ; and those who have studied human nature most deeply, are aware how often " things outward do draw the inward quality after them," and the opinion of the world works its own accomplish- ment. In general, suspected integrity rests on a frail foundation. Public confidence is the corner-stone of public honour ; and the man who is compelled to brave suspicion, is already half prepared to encounter disgrace. The circumstances to which I have alluded admit of easy explanation. Newspapers are so cheap in 'the United States, that the generality even of the lowest order can aflfbrd to purchase them. They therefore depend for support on the most ignorant class of the people. Every thing they contain must be accommo- dated to the taste and apprehension of men who labour daily for their bread, cand are of course indifferent to refinement either of language or reasoning. With such readers, whoever " peppers the highest IS surest to CHEAPNESS OP NEWSPAPERS. 447 please." Strong words take the place of strong argu- ments, and every vulgar booby who can call names, and procure a set of types upon credit, may set up as an editor, with a fair prospect of success. In England, it is fortunately still different. News- papers being expensive, the great body of their sup- porters are to be found among people of comparative wealth and intelligence, though they jjractically circu- late among the poorer classes in abundance sufficient for all purposes of information. The public, whose taste they are obliged to consult, is, therefore, of a higher order ; and the consequence of this arrangement is appa- rent in the vast superiority of talent they display, and in the wider range of knowledge and argument which they bring to bear on all questions of public interest. How long this may continue it is impossible to pre- dict, but I trust the Chancellor of the Exchequer will weigh well the consequences, before he ventures to take off, or even materially to diminish, the tax on news- papers. He may rely on it, that, bad as the state of the public press may be, it cannot be improved by any legis- lative measure. Remove the stamp duty, and the con- sequence will inevitably be, that there will be two sets of newspapers, one for the rich and educated, the other for the poor and ignorant. England, like America, will be inundated by productions contemptible in point of talent, but not the less mischievous on that account. The check of enlightened opinion — the only efficient one — on the press will be annihilated. The standard of knowledge and morals will be lowered ; and let it above all be remembered, that this tax, if removed, can never after be imposed. Once abolished, he the conse- quences tvhat they may, it is abolished for ever. The duty on advertisements is undoubtedly impolitic, and should be given up so soon as the necssities of the revenue will admit of it ; but I am confidently persuaded that the government which shall permit political journals i 1 448 VIOLENCE OF POLITICAL HOSTILITY. to circulate in England without restraint, will inflict an evil on the country, the consequences of which will extend far beyond the present generation. In America, the warfare of statesmen is no less viru- lent than that of journals, and is conducted with the same weapons. When discord lights her torch in the cabinet of Washington, it blazes with unexampled vio- lence. It was about this period that the cabinet of General Jackson suddenly exploded like a rocket, and the country found itself without a ministry. This catas- trophe was not produced by any external assault. All had gone smoothly in Congress, and never was any ministry apparently more firmly seated. Had the cabinet been composed of bachelors, there is no saying how long or how prosperously they might have con- ducted the affairs of the country. Unfortunately they were married men. One minister's lady did not choose to visit the lady of another ; and General Jackson, find- ing his talent as a pacificator inadequate to the crisis^ determined on making a clear deck, and organizing an administration whose policy might be less influenced by conjugal cabals. The members of the dismissed cabinet had now full liberty and leisure for crimination and abuse. A news- paper correspondence commenced between Major Eaton, the Secretary for the War Department, and Mr Ing- ham, the Secretary of the Treasury. The decent cour- tesies of life were thrown aside ; the coarsest epithets were employed by both parties, the most atrocious charges were advanced, and even female character was not spared in this ferocious controversy. Nor is this a solitary instance. Nearly at the same period the news- papers contained letters of Mr Crawford, formerly a member of the Cabinet, assailing the character of Mr Calhoun, the Vice-President, in the same spirit, and with the same weapons. The truth is, that in all controversies of public men, STATE OF RELIGION. 449 •ly a Mr and men, the only tribunal of appeal is the people, in the broadest jicceptation of the term. An American statesman must secure the support of a numerical majority of the popu- lation, or his schemes of ambition at once fall to the ground. Give him the support of the vulgar, and he may despise the :)pinion of the enlightened, the honour- able, and the high-minded. lie can only profess mo- tives palpable to the gross perceptions of the mean and ignorant. He adapts his language, therefore, not only to their understandings, but to their taste ; in short, he must stoop to conquer, and having done so, can never resume the proud bearing and unbending attitude of independence. In regard to religion, it is difficult, in a community presenting such diversity of character as the United States, to offer any observation which shall be univer- sally or even generally true. A stranger is evidently debarred from that intimate and extensive knowledge of character and motive, wliich could alone warrant his entering very deeply into the subject. On the matter of religion, therefore, I have but little to say, and that little shall be said as briefly as possible. Of those disgusting extravagances, recorded by other travellers, I was not witness, because I was not anxious to be so. But of the prevalence of such things as camp- meetings and revivals, and of the ignorant fanaticism in which they have their origin, there can be no doubt. It is easy to lavish ridicule on such exhibitions, and demon- strate how utterly inconsistent they are with rational and enlightened piety. Still, it should be remembered, that in a thinly-peopled country, any regular ministra- tion of religion is frequently impossible ; and if by any process religion can be made to exercise a strong and permanent influence on the character of those so situ- ated, a great benefit has been conferred on society. Where the choice lies between ftuiaticism and profligacy, we cannot hesitate in preferring the former. 2f }- II 450 INFLUENCE OF THE METHODISTS. In a free community, the follies of the fanatic are harmless. The points on which he differs from those around him, are rarely of a nature to produce injurious effects on his conduct as a citizen. But the man with- out religion acknowledges no restraint but human laws; and the dungeon and the gibbet are necessary to secure the rights and interests of his fellow-citizens from vio- lation. There can be no doubt, therefore, that in a newly-settled country, the strong eflPect produced by these camp-meetings and revivals is decidedly beneficial. The restraints of public opinion and penal legislation are little felt in the wilderness ; and, in such circum- stances, the higher principle of action, communicated by religion, however its purity may be debased by fanati- cism, is a new and valuable security to society. Throughout the whole Union, I am assured, that the Methodists have acquired a powerful influence. The preachers of that sect are generally well adapted, by character and training, for the duties they are appointed to discharge. They perfectly understand the habits, feelings, and prejudices of those whom they address. They mingle in the social circles of the people, and thus acquire knowledge of the secrets of families, which is found eminently available in increasing their influence. Through their means, religion becomes mingled with the pursuits, and even the innocent aniusements of life. Young ladies chant hymns instead of Irish melodies; and the profane chorus gives place to rhythmical doxo^- logics. Grog parties commence with prayer, and termi- nate with benediction. Devout smokers say grace over a cigar, and chewers of the Nicotian weed insert a fresh quid Avith an expression of pious gratitude. This may appear ludicrous in description ; yet it ought not to bo so. The sentiment of devotion — the love — the hope — the gratitude^ — the strong and ruling desire to conform our conduct to the Divine will — the continual recognition of God's mercy, even in our most RELIGION IN TOWNS AND IN THE COUNTRY. 4ol trifling enjoyments — ere among *he most valuable fruits of true religion. If these are degraded by irrational superstition, and the occasional ravings of a disturbed imagination, let us not reject the gold on account of the alloy, nor think only of the sediment which defiles the waters by which a whole country is fertilized. In the larger cities, there is no apparent deficiency of religion. The number of churches is as great as in England ; the habits of the people are moral and deco- rous ; the domestic sanctities are rarely violated ; and vice pays at least the homage to virtue of assuming its deportment. The clergy in those cities are men of re- spectable acquirements, and, I believe, not inferior to those of other countries in zeal and piety. If the amount of encouragement afforded to Sunday Schools, Mission- ary and Bible Societies, be assumed as the test of reli- gious fervour, no deficiency will be discovered in the Northern States. These establishments flourish as luxu- riantly as in England, when the difterences of wealth and population are taken into account. Among the higher classes, I could detect no appearance of sectarian jea- lousies or antipathies. Those >Yho, in the pursuits of politics or money, are vehement and intolerant of oppo- sition, exhibit in matters of religion a spirit more tran- quil and philosophical. In the country, however, this is not the case. There differences of religious opinion rend society into shreds and patches, varying in every thing of colour, form, and texture. In a village, the population of which is barely sufficient to fill one church, and support one clergyman, the inhabitants are either forced to want religious minis- tration altogether, or the followers of dift'erent sects must agree on some compromise, by which each yields up some portion of his creed to satisfy the objections of his neighbour. This breeds argument, dispute, and bitter- ness of feeling. The Socinian will not object to an Arian clergyman, but declines having any thing to do 452 EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY. with ':, supporter of the Trinity. The Calvinist will consent to tolerate the doctrine of free agency, if com- bined with that of absolute and irrespective decrees. The Baptist may give up the assertion of some favourite dogmas, but clings to adult baptism as a sine qua non. And thus with other sects. But who is to inculcate such a jumble of discrepant and irreconcilable doctrine? No one can shape either his faith or practice according to the anomalous and piebald creed prescribed by such a congregation, and the practical result is, that some one sect becomes victorious for a time ; jealousies deepen into antipathies, and what is called an opposition church springs up in the village. Still harmony is not restored. The rival clergymen attack each other from the pulpit; newspapers are enlisted on either side ; and religious warfare is waged with the bitterness, if not the learning which has distinguished the controversies of abler po- lemics. In the New England, and many of the Western States, external compliance with religious observances is classed among the statutory proprieties demanded by public opinion. In the former, indeed, religion has been for ages hereditary, and, like an entailed estate, has de- scended, in unbroken succession, from the Pilgrim fathers to the present generation. But nowhere does it appear in a garb less attractive, and nowhere are its warm cha- rities and milder graces less apparent to a stranger. In the larger cities, I have already stated that the clergy are in general men competent, from talent and education, to impart religious instruction to their fellow- citizens. But in the country it is diflferent. The clergy- men with whom I had an opportunity of conversing du- ring my different journeys, were unlettered, and ignorant of theology, in a degree often scarcely credible. Some of them seemed to have changed their tenets almost as often as their coats. One told me that he had commenced his clerical life as a Calvinist ; he then became a Baptist ; ADVANTAGES OF AN ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 453 then a Uuiversalist ; and was, when I met him, a Uni- tarian ! There is one advantage of an established church, which only those, perhaps, who have visited the United States can duly apj4eciate. In England, a large body of highly educated gentlemen annually issue from the Uni- versities to discharge the duties of the clerical office throughout the kingdom. By this means, a certain sta- bility is given to religious opinion ; and even those who dissent from the church, are led to judge of their pastors by a higher standard, and to demand a greater amount of qualification, than is ever thought of in a country like the United States. This result is undoubtedly of the highest benefit to the community. The light of the esta- blished church penetrates to the chapel of the dissenter, and there is a moral check on religious extravagance, the operation of which is not the less efficacious, because it is silent and unperceived by those on whom its influ- ence is exerted. Religion is not one of those articles, the supply of which may be left to be regulated by the demand. The necessity for it is precisely greatest when the demand is lea^-t ; and a government neglects its first and highest duty, which fails to provide for the spiritual as well as temporal wants of its subjects. But on the question of religious establishments I cannot enter. I only wish to record my conviction, that those who adduce the state of religion in the United States as affording illustration of the inutility of an established church, are either bad reasoners or ignorant men. I have now done. I fear it will be collected from these volumes, that my impressions of the moral and political condition of the Americans are on the whole unfavourable. I regret this, but cannot help it. Tf opinion depended on will, mine would be different. I returned to England with a strong feeling of gratitude for the hospitality I experienced in all parts of the Union ; i- ■T^;" «;, ' * 454 CONCLUSION. and I can truly declare, that no pride or pertinacity of judgment will prevent my cherishing the sincere wish, that all the evils which apj)ear to mo to impend over the future destinies of this rising country may be averted, and that the United States may afford a great and lasting example of freedom and prosperity. Let enlightened Americans who visit England write of her institutions in the same spirit of freedom which I have used in discussing the advantages of theirs. It is for the benefit of both nations that their errors and in- consistencies should be rigorously and unsparingly de- tected. A blunder exposed ceases to be injurious, and, instead of a dangerous precedent, becomes a useful bea- con. When a writer has to deal with fallacies affecting the welfare of a community, he should express himself boldly. 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