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Tha ahall TINl whi( Map diffi antii bag! right raqu mati Additional comments:/ Commentaires supplAmantairas: Wrinklsd pages may film ilightly out of focus. This item is filmed at tha reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est filmA au taux da rAduction indiquA cin A n 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MEN AND MANNERS IN AMERICA. i\ •^ ' BDINBURQH : PRINTBD BY BALLANTYNB AND CO. PAUL'S WOBK. MEN AND MANNERS IN AMERICA. BY THE AUTHOR OF CYRIL THORNTON, ETC. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. ,- - .■5sy» WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH; AND T. CADELL, STRAND, LONDON. M.D.CCC. XXXIII. •■ 2 V > ^ • ' , TO WILLIAM WOLRYCHE WHITMORE, ESQUIRE, M.P. Dear Whitmore, I INSCRIBE these volumes to you. As a politician, your course has ever been straightforward and consistent, and I know no one who brings to the dis- charge of his public duties, a mind less biassed by prejudice, or more philosophically solicit- ous 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 expense of a rn' II 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. Had I been conscious, in what I have written of the United States, of being influenced by any motive incompatible with perfect fairness of purpose, you are perhaps the last person 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 pub- licly connect your name with the present work. You will at least find in it the conclusions of an independent observer ; formed after much Ill deliberation, and offered to the world with that confidence in their justice, which becomes a writer, who, through the medium of the press, pretends to influence the opinions of others. It was not till more than a year after my re- turn, that I finally determined on publishing the result of my observations in the United States. Of books of travels in America, there seemed no deficiency ; and I was naturally un- willing to incur, by the public expression of my opinions, the certainty of giving offence to n people, of whose hospitality I shall always entertain a grateful recollection. I should there- fore gladly have remained silent, and devoted those hours which occasionally hang heavy on the hands of an idle gentleman, to the produc- tions of lighter literature, which, if not more IV i 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 ex- perience of the United States deliberately quo- ted in the reformed Parliament, as affording safe precedent for British legislation, and learn- ed 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 determined to undertake a task which inferior considerations would pro- bably 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 impartial- ity of a cosmopolite I make no pretension. No man can wholly cast off the trammels of habit and education, nor escape from the bias of that multitude of minute and latent predilections, which insensibly affects the judgment of the wisest. But apart from such necessary and acknow- ledged influences, I am aware of no prejudice which could lead me to form a perverted esti- mate of the condition, moral or social, of the Americans. I visited their country with no an- tipathies 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 would regard with an unfavourable eye the VI popular character of their government. In the United States T. 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 ambi- tions of the world I had long ceased to have any share. I was 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 VII — what possible teniptation, I could be induced to write in a spirit of unjust depreciation of the manners, morals, or institutions of a people so intimately connected with England, by the ties of interest, and the affinities of common an- cestry. 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 only claim the most favour- able construction for his mistakes. The range of a traveller's observations must generally be limited to those peculiarities which float, as it were, on the surface of society. Of the " sunken treasuries" beneath, he cannot speak. His sources of information are always fallible, and at best he can appeal only to the results of an r VIII imperfect experience. A great deal which ne- cessarily enters into his narrative, must be derived from the testimony of others. In the common intercourse of society, men do not select their words with that scrupulous preci- sion which they use in a witness-box. Details are loosely given and inaccurately remembered. Events are coloured or distorted by the parti- alities 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 con- stitute the badge of all our tribe, I pretend to no exemption. But whatever be the amount of its imperfections, the present work is offered to IX the world without excuse of any 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, RVDAL, 8/A J«/y, 1833. . Iln 1 I i CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST. Chat. I — Voyage — New Yoik Pagrc 1 II. — New York ..... •>.3 Ill — New York — Hudson River 59 IV.— New York 85 V New York 102 VI. — Voyage — Providence— Boston 184 VII Boston 191 VIII New England .... 286 IX.— New York 274 X. — Philadelphia .... 333 XI Philadelphia .... 377 ;.sfej^i: MEN AND MANNERS IN AMERICA. CHAPTER I. VOYAGE — NEW YORK. I On the morning of the 1 6th 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 on board, and though the accommodations were ex- cellent, the cabin, as might be expected, was some- what 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. ^ VOL. I. !t : 2 MISERIES OF A VOYAGE. Though the elements of this assemblage were he- terogeneous enough, I have great pleasure in remem- bering that the most perfect harmony prevailed on board. To myself, the whole of my fellow-passen- gers were most obliging; and for some I contracted a regard, which led me to regret that the period of our arrival in port, was likely to bring with it a last- ing cessation of our intercourse. The miseries of a landsman on board of ship, have afforded frequent matter for pen and pencil. At best, a sea voyage is a confinement at once irksome and odious, in which the unfortunate prisoner is compelled for weeks, or months, to breathe the taint- ed atmosphere 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 complication of the most nauseous evils that can afflict humanity, — an utter prostration of power, both bodily and mental, — a revulsion of the whole corporeal machinery, accompanied by a host of detestable diagnostics, which at once convert a well-dressed and well-favoured gentleman, into an ACCOMMODATIONS ON BOARD. object of contempt to himself, and disgust to those around Urn. 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 waters." With regard to sailors, the case is diiferent, but not much. Being seasoned vessels, they are, no doubt, exempt from some of those evils, and completely hardened to others, which are most revolting to a landsman. But their Pandora's box can afford to lose a few miseries, and still retain a sufficient stock of all sizes, for any reasonable supply. It may be doubted, too, whether the most ardent sailor was ever so hallucinated by professional enthusiasm, as to pitch his Paradise — wherever he might place his Purgatory — ^afloat. On board of the New York, however, I must say, that our sufferings were exclusively those arising from the elements of air and water. Her accom- modations were admirable. Nothing had been ne- glected which could possibly contribute to the com- fort of the passengers. In another respect, too, we were fortunate. Our commander had nothing about .1 ilil 4 THE PASSENGERS. him, of ** tlio rude and boisterous captain of the sea." In truth, Captain Bonnet was not only an adept in all professional accomplishment, but, in otiier respects, a person of extensive information ; and I confess, it was even with some degree of pride, that I learned he had received his nautical education in the Bri- tish navy. Partaking of the strong sense we all entertained, of his unvarying solicitude for the com- fort of his passengers, I am happy also to profess myself indebted to him, for much valuable informa- tion relative to the country I was about to visit. Among the passengers were some whose eccentri- cities contributed materially to enliven the mono- tony of the voyage. The most prominent of these was a retired hair-dresser from Birmingham, inno- cent 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 kidy, she was good-looking, but, being somewhat gratuitously solicitous to barb the arrows of her charms, her chief occupation during the voy- MASTER OURKE. I age, consisted in udoriiing Iter countenance with such variety of wigs of different colours, as unquestion- ably did excite tlie marvel, if not the admiration, of tlie passengers. The billing and cooing of this in- teresting couple, however, though sanctioned by the laws of Hymen, became at length so public and ob- trusive, as, in the opinion of the other ladies, to de- mand repression ; and a request was consequently made, that they would be so obliging for the future, as to reserve their mutual demonstrations of attach- ment, 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 father and a French 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 puffed 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 accomplished and scientific musician, played the violin with first- rate taste and execution, and in his impersonations 1 i ' I ! ! I 6 PROGRESS OF THE VOYAGE. of character, displayed a versatility of power, and a perception of the deeper springs of human action, almost incredible in one so young. But independ- ently of all this, ho becanoe, by his amiable and obliging disposition, an 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 peri- lous 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 Mersey. On the morning following we were opposite the Tus- kar rocks, and a run of two days brought us fairly out into the Atlantic. Then bidding farewell to the bold headlands of the Irish coast, with a flowing sheet we plunged forward into the vast wilderness of waters, which lay foaming before us, and around. 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 sailer — with all canvass set, ran down the distance gallantly. AIIKIVAL OFF BANOV HOOK* But, on the seventh day, our ^ood fortune was at aii end. The wind came on boisterous and adverse, and our progress for the next fortnight was compara- tively small. Many of the party became affected with sea-sickness, and the hopes, to which our early good fortune had given rise, of a rapid passage, were — as other dearer hopes have been by us all, — slowly, but unwillingly, relinquished. We were yet some five hundred miles to the east- ward of the banks of Newfoundland, when, on the 23d day, our spirits were again gladdened by a fair wind. Then it was that the New York gave unques- tionable proof that her high character was not un- merited. In the six following days we ran down fifteen hundred miles, and the evening of the twenty- eighth day, found us off Sandy Hook, which forms the entrance to the Bay of New York. Our misfortunes, however, were not yet at an end. When within a few hours* sail of port, our progress was arrested for four days, by a dense fog. Four more disagreeable days, I never passed. Sun, moon, stars, earth, and ocean, lay hid in impenetrable va- pour, and it was only by the constant use of the I I I O VISITED FROM THE SHORE. lead, that the ship could move in safety. The air we breathed seemed changed into a heavier element; we felt like men suddenly smitten with blindness, and it almost seemed, as if the time of chaos had come again, when darkness lay brooding on the face of the deep. The effect of this weather, on the spirits of us all, was very remarkable. Even the most jovial of the party became gloomy and morose. Conversation languished, and the mutual benevo- lence with which we had hitherto regarded each other, had evidently sustained a diminution. At length, when our patience, hourly sinking, had nearly reached zero, a favourable change took place. About noon on the 17th of November, the mist sud- denly rolled upward like a curtain, and with joyful eyes we beheld the coast of New Jersey outstretched before us. Towards evening, we received a pilot, and were visited by several boats employed by the proprietors of the New York newspapers, to procure the earliest intelligence from vessels in the ofBng. The avidity for news of all kinds, displayed both by these visitors and the American passengers, was rather amusing. ENTER THE BAY OF NEW YORK. Numerous questions were interchanged, relative to politics and dry goods, shipping and shippers, freights and failures, corn, cotton, constitutions, and commissions. 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 benefit of his neighbour; and the frequent repetition of the same 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 take it, the communications of English- men, in similar circumstances, would have been marked. No one seemed to grudge the trouble ne- cessary to convey a complete comprehension of facts or opinions to the mind of his neighbour, nor to circumscribe his communications, within the limits necessary to secure the gratification of his own curiosity. We passed Sandy Hook in the night, and, on coming on deck in the morning, were greeted with r It li li I ii 111 10 DESCRIPTION OF THE SCENERY. one of the most beautiful prospects I had ever he- held. 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, with its vast forest of ship- ping, looming in the distance. Such are some of the more prominent features of the scene, by which our eyes were first gladdened, on entering the American waters. A more glorious morning never shone from the heavens. All around was bathed in a flood of sunshine, which seemed brighter when contrasted with the weather under which we had so recently suffered. I am not aware, that there is any thin£, 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 southern extre- mity of York Island, and enlarging in latitude as it recedes from the apex of a triangle, stretches along the shores of the Hudson and East Rivers, far as the eye can reach. On the right are the heights of !! DESCRIPTION OF THE SCENEUY. 11 Brooklyn, which form part of Long Island ; and across the broad waters of the Hudson, 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 con- ceive a city, better situated for commerce. At no season of the year, can there be any obstruction in its communication with the ocean ; and with a fine and navigable river, stretching for nearly two hundred miles into the interior of a fertile country, it pos- sesses 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 gradually more animated. Numerous steam-vessels, and boats of all descriptions, were 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 Iliji Ijl ill ! I Hi i 111 I ,..11 ! Ill ; !i!l 18 LANDING AT NEW YOllK. half an hour I was safely housed in Bunker's Hotel, where I had heen strongly recommended to take up my residence. A young American accompanied me to the house, and introduced me to the landlord, who, after some miscellaneous conversation, produ- ced a book, in which I was directed to enrol my name, country, and vocation. This formality being complied with, a black waiter was directed to con- vey 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 curiosity 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 barbaric. There is something of this, though not a great deal, at New York. The appearance of the population, though not 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. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF NEW YORK. Id The fashions of dress generally adopted by the weal- thier classes are those of Paris and London ; and the tastes and habits of the people, so far as these appear on the surface, bear a strong resemblance to those of his countrymen. Minute differences, however, are no doubt apparent at the first glance. The aspect and bearing of the citizens of New York, are cer- tainly very distinguishable from any thing ever seen in Great Britain. They are generally slender in person, somewhat slouching in gait, and without that openness of countenance and erectness of de- portment to which an English eye has been accus- tomed. Their utterance, too, is marked by a pecu- liar modulation, partaking of a snivel and a drawl, which, I confess, to my ear, is by no means laudable on the score of euphony. Observations of a similar character, are as appli- cable to the city, as to its inhabitants. The frequent intermixture of houses of brick and framework, was certainly unlike any thing I had ever seen in Eu- rope ; and the New-Yorkers have inherited from their Dutch ancestors the fashion of painting their houses of a bright colour, which produces an agree- 6 J 1 i Ill ' ' ^'' ! I li! I ■l I 111! li !!i w U APPEARANCE OF THE STREETS. able effect, and gives to the streets an air of gaiety and liglitnesici 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 them all, but these frequently occur in alternation with mere hovels, and collections of rubbish, which detract materially from the general effect. But the general aspect of New York is unquestionably pleasing. 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 im- pressions 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 surprised to find, that the routine observed, in such matters in this republican country, is in fact more vexatious, than in England. In New York, you are first required to swear that the spbcJtication given of the contents of your boxes is true; ani THE CUSTOM-HOUSE. IS then, as if no reliance were due to your oath, the ' officers proceed to a complete search. To the search, however troublesome, unquestionably no objection can be made ; but it does appear to be little better than an insulting mockery, to require an oath to which all credit is so evidently denied. The proverb says, that " at lovers* vows Jove laughs ;" and if, in America, the deity is supposed to extend his merri- ment to Custom-house oaths, it surely would be better to abolish a practice, which, to say nothing of the demoralizing influence it cannot fail to exert, 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 popular as that of the United States, it would be difficult to determine. Custom-house regulations, however, are matters on which most travellers are given to be censorious. In truth, I know nothing so trying to the equa- nimity of the mildest temper, as the unpleasant cere- mony of having one's baggage rummaged over by i I ! I ii! i- !i! :! I : ill li'l I |i!i: in! 16 CUSTOM-HOUSE OFFICER. the rude fists of a revenue-officer. It is in vain reason tells us, that this impertinent poking into our portmanteaus is just and proper; that the pri- vilege is reciprocal between nations, each of which necessarily enjoys the right, of excluding altogether articles of foreign manufacture, or of attaching such conditions to their importation, as it may see fit. All this is very true, but the sense of personal indig- nity cannot be got over. There is nothing of national solemnity at all apparent in the operation. The in- vestigator of our property is undistinguished by any outward symbol of executive authority. It requires too great an effort of imagination, to regard a dirty Custom-house searcher, as a visible impersonation of the majesty of the law ; and in spite of ten thousand unanswerable reasons to the contrary, we cannot help considering his rigid examination of our cloak- bag and shaving-case, rather as an act of individual audacity, than the necessary and perfunctory dis- charge of professional duty. In short, the searcher and search.ee stand to each other in the relation of plus and minus, and the latter has nothing for it, but to put his pride in his pocket, and keep down his choler ^ I. SINGULARITY OF SIGNS. 17 It is in vain nt poking into ; that the pri- each of which ling altogether attaching such t may see fit. personal indig- ing of national tion. The in- ^uished by any It requires regard a dirty personation of ten thousand fi we cannot of our cloak- of individual unctory dis- , the searcher lation of plus for it, but to vn his choler as best he can, with the complete knowledge that being pro tern, 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, possible, 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 committed myself to the guidance of some of my American friends, and commenced another ramble through the city. As we passed, many of the signs exhibited by the different shops struck me as singular. Of these, " Dry Good Store," words of which I confess I did not understand the precise import, was certainly the most prevalent. My companions informed me that the term drt/ goods is not, as might be supposed, generally applicable to merchandise devoid of mois- ture, but solely to articles composed of linen, silk, or woollen. " Coffin Warehouse," however, was suf- ficiently explanatory of the nature of the commerce carried on within; but had it been otherwise, the sight of some scores of these dismal commodities, VOL I. B !ii;i;jl! IHI'I f] I It REMARKABLE PLACARD. ill 111 IPI ilill I :)i| ijliliilji arranged in sizes, and ready for immediate use, would have been comment enough. " Flour and Feed Store," and " Oyster Refectory," were more grateful to the eye and the imagination. ** Hollow Ware, Spiders, and Fire Dogs," seem- ed to indicate some novel and anomalous traffic, and carried with it a certain dim and mystical sublimity, of which I shall not venture to divest it, by any attempt at explanation. I was amused, too, with some of the placards which appeared on the walls. Many of these were politi- cal, and one in particular was so unintelligible, as to impose the task of a somewhat prolix commentary on my friends. It ran thus, in sesquipedalian cha- racters, JACKSON FOR EVER. GO THE WHOLE HOG ! When the sphere of my intelligence became enlarged with regard to this affiche^ I learned, that " going the whole hog" is the American popular phrase for Radical Reform, and is used by the De- mocratic party to distinguish them from the Federal- ists, who are supposed to prefer less sweeping mea- ■1 NIBL0*8 TAVERN. 19 sures, and consequently to go only a part of the inte- resting (quadruped in question. The Go-the-whole- hoggerSf therefore, are politicians determined to fol- low out Democratic principles to their utmost extent, and with this party, General Jackson is at present an especial favourite. The expression, I am told, is of Virginian origin. In that State, when a hutcher kills a pig, it is usual to demand of each customer, whether he will " go the whole hog ;" as, hy such extensive traffic, a purchaser may supply his table at a lower price, than is demanded of him, whose imagination revels among prime pieces, to the exclu- sion of baser matter. Before quitting the ship, it had been arranged among a considerable number of the passengers, that we should dine together on the day of our arri- val, as a proof of parting in kindness and good-fel- lowship. Niblo's tavern, the most celebrated eat- ing-house in New York, was the scene chosen for this amicable celebration. Though a little tired with my walks of the morning, which the long previous confinement on board of ship had rendered more than usually fatiguing, I determined to explore my CIVILITY OF A GROCER. way on foot, and liaving procured ilio necessary directions at the hotel, again set fortli. On my way, an incident occurred, which I merely mention to show liow easily travellers like myself, on their first arrival in a country, may be led into a misconcep- tion of the character of the people. Having pro- ceeded some distance, I found it necessary to enquire my way, and accordingly entered a small grocer's shop. " Pray, sir," I said, " can you p6int out to me the way to Niblo's tavern ?'* The person thus ad- dressed was rather a gruff-looking man, in a scratch- wig, and for at least half a minute kept eyeing me from top to toe without uttering a syllable. " Yes, sir, I can," he at length replied, with a stare as broad as if he had taken mc for the great Katterfel- to. Considering 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 me to the middle of the street, pointed out the land-marks by which I was to steer, and gave the most minute directions for my guidance. .vS DINNER AT NiBl.O'H. 21 I presume that ''tis curiosity in the first instance was excited by something foreign in my appear- ance ; and that, having once satisfied himself that I was a strutiger, he became on that account more than ordinarily anxious to oblige. This incident afforded me the first practical insight into the man- ners of the people, and was useful both as a prece- dent for future guidance, and as explaining the source of many of the errors of former travellers. Had my impulse to quit the shop been executed with greater rapidity, I should certainly have consi- dered this man as a brutal barbarian, and perhaps have drawn an unfair inference with regard to the manners and character, of the lower orders of society in the United States. The dinner at Niblo's, — which may be considered the London Tavern of New York, — was certainly more excellent in point of materiel, than of cookery or arrangement. It consisted of oyster soup, shad, venison,* partridges, grouse, wild-ducks of diflFe- * In regard to game, I adopt the nomenclature in common use in the United States. It may be aa well to state, however, that neither the partridges nor the grouse bear any very close resemblance to the birds of the same name in Europe. Their flesh is dry, and comparatively with- out flavour. DINNER AT NIBLo's. I 1 :'! , I'ont varieties^ and several other dishes less notable. There was no attempt to serve this chaotic entertain- ment in courses, a fashion, indeed, but little prevalent in the United States. Soup, fish, flesh and fowl, simultaneously garnished the table ; and the conse- quence 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 New York. iil \ H UUEAKFAST AT THE HOTEL. 23 : •> 1 !■ ! I CHAPTER II. NEW YORK. I HAD nearly completed my toilet on the morn- ing after my arrival, when the tinkling of a large bell gave intimation, that the hour of breakfast was come. I accordingly descended as speedily as pos- sible to the salle a manger, and found a consider- able party engaged in doing justice to a meal, which, at first glance, one would scarcely have guessed to be a breakfast. Solid viands of all descriptions loaded the table, while, in the occasional intervals, were distributed dishes of rolls, toast, and cakes of buck- wheat and Indian corn. At the head of the table, sat the landlady, who, with an air of complacent dig- nity, was busied in the distribution of tea and coffee. A large bevy of negroes were bustling about, mini- Stk BREAKFAST AT THE HOTEL. I ;'i! m ::t ill II |i .i: ' ill! stering 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 portion of the company were of the other sex. The contrast of the whole scene, with that of an English 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 success. Depar- tures, which had begun even before I took ray place at the table, became every instant more numerous, 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 table under such circumstances, was by no means gracious either to the eye or the fancy. It was strewed thickly with the disjecta membra of the enter- tainment. Here, lay fragments of fish, somewhat LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION. m 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 — hut I will not go on with the picture. One nasty custom, however, I must notice. £^ggs, instead of heing eat from the shell, are poured into a wine- glass, and after heing duly and disgustingly churned up with hutter and condiment, the mixture, accord- ing 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 was to look over my letters of introduction. Of these I found above thirty address- ed to New York, and being by no means anxious to become 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 ima- gined might prove of more immediate service to a traveller like myself. In consequence of this ar- rangement, about half the letters with which the VOL. I, c ^ i 26 IMPRESSION MADE BY AMERICANS. Hi ' I,/ m I 11 1 'i I pi I kindness of my friends had furnished me, were dis- carded, and 1 can truly say, that the very warm and obliging reception I experienced from those to whom I forwarded introductions, left me no room, to regret the voluntary limitation of their number. Having despatched my letters, and the morning being wet, I remained at home, busied in throwing together a few memoranda of such matters, as ap- peared worthy of record. My labours, however, were soon interrupted. Several gentlemen who had heard of my arrival through the medium of my fellow-passengers, but on whose civility I had no claim, did me the honour to call, tendering a wel- come to their city, and the still more obliging offer of their services. My letters, too, did not fail of pro- curing me a plentiful influx of visitors. Numerous invitations followed, and by the extreme kindness of my new friends, free admission was at once afforded me to the best society in New York. The first imprcssioa made by an acquaintance with the better educated order of American gentle- men, is certainly very pleasing. There is a sort of republican plainness and simplicity in their address, '' liii i AMERICAN GENTLEMEN. 2T me, were dis- quite in harmony with the institutions of their country. An American bows less than an English- man ; he deals less in mere conventional forms and expressions of civility ; he pays few or no compli- ments ; makes no unmeaning or overstrained profes- sions ; but he takes you by the hand with a cordia- lity which at once intimates, that he is disposed to regard you as a friend. Of that higher grace of manner, inseparable perhaps from the artificial dis- tinctions of European society, and of which even those most conscious of its hollowness, 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 have 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 less pleasing character. The Americans I had met in Europe had generally been distinguished by a certain reserve, and something even approaching to the offensive in manner, which had not contri- 38 AMERICANS IN EUROrE. fl'^ I buted to create a prepossession in their favour. It seemed, as if each individual were impressed with the conviction that the whole dignity of his country was concentered 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 more frequent display, by that air of haughty repulsion, in which too many of my countrymen have the bad taste to indulge ; but even from what I have already seen, I feel sure that an American at home, is a very differ- ent person from an American abroad. With his foot on his native soil, he appears in his true character ; he moves in the sphere, for which his habits and education have peculiarly adapted him, and sur- rounded by his fellow-citizens, he at once gets rid of the embarrassing conviction, 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 manner, that he is not dazzled by the splendour which surrounds him, AMERICANS IN EUROPE. 89 nnd too solicitously forward in denying the validity of all pretensions, which he fears the world may consider as superior to his own. But in his own country, he stands confessedly on a footing with the highest. His national vanity Temains unruffled by oppoi^ition 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 imagination 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. Con* nected with England by commercial relations, by community of literature, and a thousand ties, which it will still require centuries to obliterate, he cannot regard her destinies without deep interest. In the contests in which, by the calls of honour, or by the folly of her rulers, she may be engaged, the reason of an American may be against England, but his heart is always with her. He is ever ready to extend to her sons, the rites of kindness and hospitality, and is (' 90 PUBLIC BUILDINGS OF NEW YORK. 'i-^!il m more flattered by their praise, and more keenly sen- sitive to their censure, than is perhaps quite consist- ent 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 whicli is everywhere apparent, and in the rapid advances which it has made, and is still making, in opulence and population. 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 surmounted by a balcony. Above is a kind of lantern or pepper-box, which the taste of the architect has led him to sub- stitute for a dome. From the want of simplicity, the effect of the whole is poor, and certainly not impro- ved by the vicinity of a very ugly gaol, which might THE EXCHANGE. 81 »re keenly sen- I quite consist- due of either. to filiow in the whole intere^it appearance of I bustle which npid advances aC, in opulence il view, New the attention. State-House, aw hold their arallelogram, he basement, vhich instead iounted by a • pepper-box, him to sub- mplicity, the Y not impro- which might be advantageously removed to some less obtrusive situation. The Exchange is a petty affair, and unworthy of a community so large aud opulent as that of New York. With regard to churclies, those frequented by the wealthier classes are built of stone, but the great majority are of timber. Their architee ire in general is anomalous enough ; and the wooden spires, terminating in gorgeous weathercocks, are as gay as the lavish employment 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 aud East River. It is certainly a hand- some 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 mas- sive brick edifice of five or six, — gives to Broadway a certain picturesque effect, incompatible, perhaps, with greater regularity of architecture. The sides are skirted by a row of stunted and miserable-look- (i • - 32 BROADWAY. M^ i ii I II ijH ing poplars, useless either for shade or ornament, which breaks the unity of the street without com- pensation of any sort. The shops in Broadway are the depots of all the fashionable merchandise of the city, but somewhat deficient 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 becomes one of pleasing bustle and animation. The trottoirs are then crowded with gaily dressed ladies, and that portion of the younger population, whom the absence of more serious employment enables to appear in 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 four- score, who, from force of habit, still lags superfluous on the Exchange. There are no morning loungers in New York; and the ladies generally walk unat- tended; but in the evening, I am told, it is different, and the business of gallantry goes on quite as hope- fully, as on our side of the water. LADIES OF MEW YORK. 33 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 Ban- quo's fated line," it comes like a shadow, and so de- parts. At one or two-and- twenty the bloom of an American lady is gone, and the more substantial materials of beauty follow soon after. At thirty the whole fabric is in decay, and nothing remains but the tradition of former conquests, 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 Carson 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 €X 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 coun- trywomen ; the cheek is without colour, and the figure sadly deficient in en-hon-point. But with all these disadvantages, I do not remember to have 34 LADIES OF NEW YORK. seen more beauty than I have met in New York. The features are generally finely moulded, and not unfrcquently 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 rarely possesses the charm of fine teeth, and the lips 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 car- riage 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 observation since my arrival in the United States, assuredly I have never seen less of external deport- ment, 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, com- LAW COURTB OF NfcW YOUK. 35 mittcd by one female on another. It is scarcely possible to conceive the administration of justice invested with fewer forms. Judges and barristers were both wigless and gownless, and dressed in gar- ments 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 con- stables, or officers 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 ex- cite. The witnesses, I thought, gave their evidence with a greater appearance of phlegm and indifference 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 examined, held the Bible in one hand, while he kept the other in his breeches pocket, and, in giving his evidence, stood lounging \v ith his arm thrown over the bench. The judges were men about fifty, with nothing remarkable in the mode of discharging their duty. The counsel were younger, and, so far as I could judge, by no means deficient h ( ! i 'tt » 1 36 LAW COURTS OF NEW YORK. either in zeal for the cause of their clients, or inge- nuity in maintaining it. The only unpleasant part of the spectacle, — for I do not suppose that justice could he administered in any country with greater substantial purity, — was the incessant salivation go- ing forward in all parts of the court. Judges, coun- sel, jury, witnesses, officers, and audience, all contri- buted 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 Supreme Court of the state. The proceedings here were, if possible, less interesting than those I had already witnessed. The court were engaged in hear- ing arguments connected with a bill of exchange, and, whether in America or England, a speech on such a subject must be a dull affair ; 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 ver- dict. It was not without astonishment, I confess, RESPECT PAID TO JUDGES. 37 that I remarked that three-fourths of the jurymen were engaged in eating bread and cheese, and that the foreman actually announced the verdict with his mouth full, ejecting the disjointed syllables du- ring the intervals of mastication ! In truth, an Ame- rican seems to look on a judge, exactly as he does on a carpenter or coppersmith, and it never occurs to him, that an administrator of justice is entitled to greater respect than a constructor of brass knockers, or tiie sheatlier of a ship's bottom. The judge and the brazier are paid equally for their work ; and Jonathan firmly believes, that while he has money in his pocket, there in no risk of his suffering from the want either of law or warming pans. I cannot think, however, that with respect to these matters, legislation in this country has proceeded on very sound or enlightened principles. A very clever lawyer 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 answered, it had not ; nay, so far was the case otherwise, that had I before been if- 38 OBSERVATIONS. 'I w 11 »- iti disposed to question the utility of those forms to which he objected, what I had witnessed since my arrival in New York, would have removed all doubts on the subject. A good deal of discussion followed, and though each of us persisted in maintaining our own opinion, it is only justice to state, that the argu- ment was conducted by my opponent with the ut- most liberality and fairness. I refrain from giving the details of this conversation, because a " proto- col'* signed only by one of the parties is evidently a document of no weight, and where a casuist enjoys the privilege 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 himself on the side of the gods, leaving that of Cato to his opponent. It is a <^ustom in this country to ask, and generally with an air of some triumph, whether an English- man supposes there is wisdom in a wig ; and whe- ther a few pounds of horsehair set on a judge's skull, and plastered 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 dis- OBSERVATIONS. 8# sigreeably enveloped ? The answer is, No ; we by no means hold, either that a head au naturel, or that gar- ments of fustian or corduroy, are at all unfavourable to legal discrimination ; and are even ready to ad- mit, that in certain genial regions, a judge in cuerpOf 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 whatever American is so deficient in dialectic, as to imagine thai his admission involves a surrender of the questioi . « rebate, we would beg leave respect- fully to remind him, that the schoolmaster is abroad, and recommend 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 afford ample evidence of his own unfitness for the task. Man is a creature of senses and imagination, and even in religion, the whole experience of the world has borne testimony to the necessity of some exter- nal rite, or solemnity of observance, to stimulate his devotion, and enable him to concentrate his faculties, for the worship of that awful and incomprehensible (!- 40 OBSERVATIONS. I ij im '■' -i I I'M 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 generals and admirals with gold lace, can con- demn as irrational, 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 vulgar familiarity ; and they may, perhaps, be profitably reminded, that the respect exacted in a British court of justice, is ho- mage 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 administration, tlierefore, should ever be marked out to the imagination, as well as to the reason of the great body of a nation, as an act of peculiar and paramount solemnity ; and when an Englishman sees the decencies of life habitually violated in the very seat of justice, he naturally feels the less dis- posed to dispense with those venerable forms with which, in his own country, it has been wisely en- circled. Our answer therefore is, that it is precisely 6 DINNER AT THE HOTEL. 41 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 originally imposed, and are still maintained. We regard ceremonies of all sorts, not as things import- ant in themselves, hut simply as means conducing to an end. It matters not hy what particular pro- cess j hy what routine of observance ; hy what visible attributes, the dignity of justice is asserted, and its sanctity impressed on the memory and imagination. But at least let this end, by some means or other, he 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 de- scended to the bar, an apartment furnished with a counter, across which supplies of spirits and cigars are furnished to all who desiderate such luxuries. The bar, in short, is the lounging place of the esta- blishment ; and here, when the hour of dinner is at VOL. I. D m 42 DINNER AT THE HOTEL. I!' w. hand, the whole 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 farther than the door. At length a bell sounded, and no sooner did its first vibration 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 pre- cipitation of this movement appeared somewhat uncalled for, as there was evidently no difficulty in procuring places ; and on looking round the apart- ment, 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 number of dishes was very great. The style of cookery neither French nor English, though cer- tainly approaching nearer to the latter, than to the former. The dressed dishes were decidedly bad, the sauces being composed of little else than liquid grease, which, to a person like myself, who have an inherent detestation of every modification of olea- ginous matter, was an objection altogether insuper- AMERICAN MODE OF EATING. 43 ablo. On the whole, however, it would he unjust to complain. If, as the old adage hath it, " in the multitude of counsellors there is wisdom," so luay it be averred, as equally consistent with human experience, that in the multitude of dishes there is good eating. After several unsuccessful experi- ments, I did discover unobjectionable viands, and made as good a dinner, as the ambition of an old campaigner could desire. Around, I beheld the same scene of gulping and swallowing, as if for a wager, which my observa- tions at breakfast had prepared me to expect. In my own neighbourhood there was no conversation. Each individual seemed to pitchfork his food down his gullet, without the smallest attention to the wants of his neighbour. If you asked a gentleman to help you from any dish before him, he certainly com- plied, but in a manner that showed you had imposed on him a disagreeable office ; and instead of a slicct your plate generally returned loaded with a solid massive wedge of animal matter. The New York carvers had evidently never graduated at Vauxhall. Brandy bottles were ranged at intervals along the 44 AMERICAN MODE OF EATING. !; table, from which each guest helped himself as he thouglit proper. As the dinner advanced, the party rapidly diminished ; before tlic second course, a con- siderable portion had triken their departure, and comparatively few waited the appearance of the dessert. Though brandy was the prevailing beverage, there were many also who drank wine, and a small knot of three or four (whom I took to be country- men of my own) were still continuing the carousal when I left the apartment. An American is evidently by no means a convi- vial being. He seems to consider eating and drink- ing as necessary tasks, which he is anxious to dis- charge as speedily as possible. I was at first dispo- sed to attribute this singularity to the claims of business, which, in a mercantile community, might be found inconsistent with more prolonged enjoy- ment of the table. But this theory was soon relin- quished, for I could not but observe, that many of the most expeditious bolters of dinner spent several hours afterwards, in smoking and lounging at the bar. . At six o'clock the bell rings for tea, when the party musters again, though generally in diminished GRACE CHURCH — DIVINE SERVICE. 45 I force. This meal is likewise provided with its due proportion of solids. The most remarkable was raw hung beef, cut into thin slices, of which, — horresco referenSf — 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 rou- tine of a New York hotel. On the first Sunday after my arrival, I attended divine service in Grace Church, which is decidedly the most fashionable place of worship in New York. The congregation, though very numerous, was com- posed almost exclusively of the wealthier class; and the gay dresses of the ladies, — whose taste generally leads to a preference of the brightest colours, — pro- duced an effect not unlike that of a bed of tulips. Nearly in front of the reading desk, a comfortable cliair and hassock had been provided for a poor old woman, apparently about fourscore. There was something very pleasing in this considerate and be- nevolent attention to the infirmities of a helpless and withered creature, who probably had outlived her »] \ 46 EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF AMERICA. friends, and was soon about to rejoin them in the grave. ^ ■ The Episcopal church of America differs little in formula from that of England. The liturgy is the same, though here and there 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" has been changed into " who," on the score of its being more consonant to grammati- cal propriety. This is poor criticism, for, it will scarcely be denied, that the use of the neuter pro- noun carried with it a certain vagueness and subli- mity, not inappropriate in reminding us, that our worship is addressed to a Being incomprehensible, infinite, and superior to all the distinctions appli- cable to material objects. In truth, the grammatical anomaly so obnoxious to the American critics, is not a blemish, but a felicity. A few judicious retrench- ments have also been made in the service, and many of those repetitions which tend sadly to dilute the devotional feeling, by overstraining the attention, have been removed. Trinity Church, in Broadway, is remarkable as .I -■ 'M MONUMENT OF GENERAL HAMILTON. •17 iiem in the being tlie most richly endowed establisliment in the Union, and peculiarly interesting, from containing in its cemetery the remains of the celebrated Ge- neral Hamilton. I have always regarded the me- lancholy fate of this great statesman with interest. Hamilton was an American, not by birth, but by adoption. He was born in the West Indies, but claimed descent from a respectable Scottish family. It may be truly said of him, that with every temp- tation to waver in his political course, the path he followed was a straight one. He was too honest, and too independent, to truckle to a mob, and too proud to veil or modify opinions, which, he must have known, were little calculated to secure popular favour. Hamilton brought to the task of le- gislation, a powerful and perspicacious intellect, and a memory stored with the results of the experience of past ages. He viewed mankind not as a theorist, but as a practical philosopher, and was never deceived by the false and flimsy dogmas of human perfectibi- lity, which dazzled the weaker vision of such men as Jefferson and Madison. In activity of mind, in soundness of judgment, and in the power of compre- >.f- i CHARACTEIl OF GENERAL HAMILTON. i i lionsivo induction, ho unquestionably stood the first man of Iiis age and country. Wliilo the apprehen- sions of other statesmen were directed against the anticipated encroachments of the executive power, Hamilton saw clearly that the true danger menaced from another quarter. He was well aware that de- mocracy, not monarchy, was the rock on which the future destinies of his country were in peril of ship- wreck. He was, therefore, desirous that the new Fe- deral Constitution should be framed as m uch as pos- sible on the model of that of England, which, beyond uU previous experience, had been found to produce the result of secure and rational liberty. It is a false charge on Hamilton, that he contemplated the intro- duction of monarchy, or of the corruptions which had contributed to impair the value of the British consti- tution ; but he certainly was anxious that a salutary and effective check should be found in the less popu- lar of the legislative bodies, on the occasional rash and hasty impulses of the other. He was favourable to a senate chosen for life ; to a federal government sufficiently strong to enforce its decrees in spite of party opposition, and the conflicting jealousies of the N. GENERAL HAMILTON. 4» id the first apprelien- igainst the ivo power, ir menaced re that de- which the ril of ship- he new Fe- uch as pos- ich, heyond I to produce t is a false the intro- which had tish consti- a salutary less popu- sional rash 'avourahlc overnment in spite of isies of the different States ; to a representation rather founded on property and intelligence than on mere numbers ; and perliaps of the two evils, would have preferred the tyranny of a single dictator, to the more degrad- ing despotism of a mob. Hamilton wedmtely succeeding the revolution, was solely that of talent and character. Being persoK«al, it died with the men, and sometimes l»ofore them. It was impossible for human efforts to diminish the democratic impulse VOL. I. E I rii m MONUMENT IN TRINITY CHURCH. li! given by tlie revolution, or to be long successful in retarding its increase. In the very first struggle, tbe Federalists were defeated once and for ever, and tbe tenure of power by tbe Republican party bas ever since, witb one brief and partial exception, continued unbroken. There is another tomb which I would notice before quitting the churchyard of Trinity. On a slab surmounting an oblong pile of masonry, are engraved the following words : MY MOTHER. THE TRUMPET SHALL SOUND AND THE DEAD SHALL ARISE. This is the whole inscription ; and as I read the words I could not but feel it to be sublimely affect- ing. The name of him who erected this simple monument of filial piety, or of her whose dust it covers, is unpreserved by tradition. Why should that be 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 THEATRES. 51 cessful in iggle, tlio r, and the ' has ever continued lid notice f. On a onry, are DEAD '. read the jly affect- is simple le dust it ly should enow? It s humble pet shall 'ustj that the mother and her child will then bo reunited, to part no more. One of the earliest occupations of a traveller in a strange city, is to visit the theatres. There are three in New York, and I am assured, that both actors and managers prosper in their vocation. Such a circumstance is not insignificant. It marks opu- lence and comfort, and proves that the great body of the people, after providing the necessaries of life, possess a surplus, which they feel at liberty to lavish on its enjoyments. I have already been seve- ral times to the Park Theatre, which is decidedly the most fashionable. The house is very comfortable, and well adapted both for seeing and hearing. On my first visit, the piece was Der Freischutz, which was very wretchedly performed. The farce was new to me, and, I imagine, of American origin. The chief character is a pompous 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 person and pedigree irresistible. As may be anticipated, he is the laughing stock of the piece. 53 ACTORS. Insult and ridicule follow liim in every scene; he is kicked and cuffed to the hearty content of the au- dience, who return home full of contempt for the English aristocracy, and chuckling at the thought that there are no baronets in America. My curiosity was somewhat excited by the high reputation which an actor named Forrest has acqui- red in this country. As a tragedian, in the estimate of all American critics, he stands primus sine secundo. To place him on a level with Kean, or Young, or Kemble, or Macready, would here be considered as an unwarranted derogation from his mci its. He is a Thespian without blemish and without rival. I have since seen this rara avis, and I confess that the praise so profusely lavished on him does appear to me somewhat gratuitous. He is 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, pit, and ACTORS. 53 ene; he is of the au- )t for the e thought r the high has acqui- e estimate ne secundo. Young, or isidered as is. He is ival. >nfess that >es appear oarsc and nity, with imonplace I certainly ^ given to 3verj were the actor :, pit, 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 merits as an actor the more freely, because I know he is too firmly established in the high opinion of his countrymen, to be susceptible of injury from the criticism of a foreigner, with all his prejudices, inherent and attributive. Perhaps indeed he owes something of the admiration which follows him on the stage, to the excellence of his character in private life. Forrest has realised a large fortune ; and I hear from all quarters, that in the discharge of every moral and social duty, he is highly exemplary. His literary talents, I am assured, are likewise respect- able. My fellow-passenger. Master Burke, draws full houses every night of his performance. Each time I have seen him, my estimate of his powers has been raised. In farce he does admirably ; but what must be said of the taste of an audience, who can even tolerate the mimicry of a child, in such parts as Lear, Shylock, Richard, and lago ? No one can be four-and -twenty hours in New ' ii i m m J ■-^ (I -i 1-^ li RiH H FIRES IN NEW YORK. York without hearing the alarm of fire. Indeed, a conflagration 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 less accustomed to combu& :on. The New York firemen are celebrated for resolution and acti- vity ; and as the exercise of these qualities is always pleasant to witness, I have made it a point *o attend all fires since my arrival. The four first were quite insignificant, indeed three of the number were ex- tir^guished before my arii* >!, and I barely got up in time to catch a glimpse of the expiring embers 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 affair as its predecessors, I had at length the satisfaction of beholding a very respectable volume of flame burst- ing from the windows and roof of a brick tenement of four stories, with as large an accompaniment of smoke, bustle, clamour, and confusion as could rea- sonably be desired. An engine came up almost immediately after my arrival, and loud cries, and the rattle of approaching wheels from either extremity vm FIREMEN. 55 Indeed, a currence, i\ anxiety lamity in The New and acti- is always ♦o attend i^ere quite were ex- got up in ers of the in better than half 1 affair as 'action of ne burst- enement iment of ould rea- ) almost and the xtremity 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. Cer- tainly nothing could exceed their boldness and acti- vity. Ladders were soon planted ; the walls were scaled; furniture 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 were brought into instant play. But as the power of water waxed, so unfortunately did that of the adverse element ; and so far as the original building was concerned, the odds soon became Pompey's pillar to a stick of seal- ing-wax, on fire. Day now closed, and the scene amid the darkness became greatly increased in picturesque beauty. At IF'' P PI ' III r / i !:..■: B iii ■■1 i! ' i i ' 1 i 1 M s$ FIRE IN NEW YORK. . :t intervals human figures were seen striding through flame, and then vanishing amid the smoke. In the street, confusion became worse confounded. Had the crowd been composed of stentors, the clamour could not have been louder. The inhabitants of the adjoining houses, who, till now, seemed to have taken the matter very coolly, at length became alarmed, when the engines began to play on them, and ejected a torrent of chairs, wardrobes, feather- beds, and other valuable chattels from every avail- able opening. The house in which the fire broke out was now a mere shell j the roof gone, and all the wooden- work consumed. The flames then burst forth in the roof of the house adjoining on the right, but the concentrated play of many engines soon sub- dued it. All danger was then at an end. The inha- bita>its 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 nothing had happened. I saw several of the inmates of the house that had been burned, and examined their countenances with some curiosity. No external mark of excitement was visible, and I gave them V. \ COURAGE AND ACTIVITY OF THE FIREMEN. 57 r through ). In the [ed. Had 3 clamour ,nts of the 1 to have h hecame on them, 3, feather- ery avail- fire hroke 3, and all hen hurst the right, soon suh- riie inha- lich they no douht f nothing es of the (led their external ive 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 firemen. The chief defect that struck me, was the admission of the crowd to the scene of action. This caused, and must always cause, confusion. In Eng- land, harriers 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 meri- dian 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 clear, 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 expla- nations, it does appear to me unaccountable. I am 58 FREQUENCY OF FIRES. ' t I convinced, that in this single city there are annually more fires than occur in the whole Island of Great Britain. The comhustihie materials of which the majority of the houses are composed, is a circum- stance 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 evi- dence than has yet been discovered to warrant 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 con- coct a theory, and so leave the matter as I find it. ■ 'r'l . ill FESTIVAL AT NEW YORK. m 1 i annually I of Great (vhich the » circum- enormous ? I think nger evi- irrant the > we have roes, and n exempt g to con- find it. CHAPTER III. NEW YORK — HUDSON RIVER. The 25th of November, being the anniversary of the evacuation of the city by the British army, is always a grand gala-day at New York. To perpe- tuate the memory of this glorious event, there is generally a parade of the militia, some firing of can- non 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 pre- sent 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, origi- nated exclusively in the operative class, or workies, as they call themselves, in contradistinction to those who live in better houses, eat better dinners, read ;!' si ■ ft • & 6U PflOCE88ION IN HONOUR ill t?. novels and poetry, and drink old Madeira instead of Yankee rum. The latter and more enviable class, however, having been taught caution by the results of the former French Revolution, were generally disposed to consider the present congratulatory cele- bration as somewhat premature, but finding it could not be prevented, prudently gave in, and determined to take part in the pageant. It was arranged, that should the weather prove unfavourable on the 25th, the gala should be defer- red till the day following. Nor was this precaution unwise. The morning of the appointed day was as unpropitious, as the prayers of the most pious ad- vocate of legitimacy could have wished. The rain came down in torrents, the streets were flooded ankle deep, and I could not help feeling strong compassion for a party of militia, with a band of music, who with doleful aspect, and drenched to the skin, paraded past the hotel, to the tune of Yankee Doodle. But the morning following was of better promise : the rain had ceased, and though cold and cloudy, it was calm. About ten o'clock, therefore, I betook myself to a house in Broadway, to which I had been obligingly Iflll H fB^Bwl ij ■hS '4 IHB' i"! H ^hNbi' 1 ■ ' 'IBI Ml |IHm A ■■MM Ml H< llli 1 I'i OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 01 , instead of able class, the results I generally latory cele- ng it could Ictermincd tlicr prove 1 be defer- prccaution lay was as pious ad- The rain Dded ankle ompassion , who with traded past But the : the rain was calm, nyself to a obligingly invited to see the procession. During my progress, every thing gave note of preparation. The shops were closed, and men in military garb, and others de- corated with scarfs and ribbons, were seen moving hastily along to their appointed stations. On ap- proaching the rojite of the procession, the crowd became more dense, and the steps in front of the houses were so completely jammed up with human beings, that it was with difficulty I reached the door of that to which I was invited. Having at length, however, effected an entrance, I enjoyed the honour of introduction to a large and very pleasant party assembled with the same object as myself, so that, though a considerable time elap- sed before the appearance of the pageant, I felt no inclination to complain of the delay. At length, however, the sound of distant music reached the ear ; the thunder of drums, the contralto of the fife, tlie loud clash of cymbals, and first and farthest heard, the spirit-stirring notes of the trumpet. "ItFTTUV f*' UKVXO^UV Ufl^i KTV7F0S ouetr» B«AA8<* On they came, a glorious cavalcade, making I 62 DESCRIPl'ION OF THE PROCESSION. m U • 'Hi . heaven vocal with sound of triumph, and earth beautiful with such colouring as nature never scat- tered from her pictured urn. And first appeared, gorgeously caparisoned, a gal- lant steed bestrode by a cavalier, whose high and martial bearing bespoke him the hero of a hundred fights. The name of this chieftain I was not fortu- nate enough to learn. Next passed a body of militia, who, if they wished to appear as unlike soldiers as possible, were assuredly most successful. Then came the trades. Butchers on horseback, or drawn in a sort of rustic arbour or shambles, tastefully fes- tooned with sausages. Tailors, with cockades and breast-knots of ribbon, pacing to music, with ban- ners representative of various garments, waving proudly in the wind. Blacksmiths, with forge and bellows. Caravans of cobblers most seducingly ap- pareled, and working at their trade on a locomotive platform, which displayed their persons to the best advantage. And carpenters too, — but the rest must be left to the imagination of the reader ; and if he throw in a few bodies of militia, a few bands of musicy and a good many most outri and unmilitary lookin of the idea o I in engine the pr houses These order, attract! really t termina large a i equal j( case, tl admirat charms we mus from a i tite dem til us it ^ butchers penters. r D£SCRIPriON OF THE PROCESSION. 63 ind earth !ver scat- icd) a gal- high and I hundred not fortu- of militia, B soldiers il. Then or drawn efully fes- kades and with han- waving *orge and singly ap- ocomotive the hest rest must and if he bands of nmilitary looking officers, appareled in uniforms apparently of the last century, ho will form a very tolerable idea of the spectacle. I must not, however, omit to notice the fire engines, which formed a very prominent part of the procession, it fortunately happening that no houses were just at that moment in conflagration. These engines were remarkably clean and in high order, and being adorned with a good deal of taste, attracted a large share of admiration. Altogether, it really did seem as if this gorgeous pageant were in- terminable, and, like a dinner in which there is too large a succession of courses, it was impossible to do equal justice to all its attractions. In the latter case, the fervour with which we demonstrate our admiration of one dish, forces us to disregard the charms of another. If we are not unjust to venison, we must subsequently slight partridge, and then from a whole wilderness of sweets, our waning appe- tite demands that we should select but one. And tlius it was, that I, fervent in my admiration of the butchers, was, in due course, charmed with the car- penters, and subsequently smitten with the singular f e4 EX-PRESIDENT MUNROE. I >] f5| ■s; Itilil.i m t". T ' splendour of tlie saddlers. But another and another still succeeded, till the eye and tongue of the spec- tator became literally bankrupt in applause. Jilst modus et duici ; in short, there was too much of it, and one could not help feeling, after three hours spent in gazing, how practicable it was to become satiated with pomp, as well as with other good f mgs. But tedious as the spectacle was, it did at length pass, and I walked on to Washington Square, in which the ceremonies of the day were to conclude with the delivery of a public oration. On arriving, I found that a large stage, or hustings, had been erected in the square. From the centre of this stage rose another smaller platform, for the accommo- dation of the high functionaries of the state and city. As even the advanced guard of the proces- sion had not yet given signal of its approach, it was evident that some delay must occur, and I therefore accepted an invitation to one of the houses in the square, where I found a very brilliant concourse of naval and military officers, and other persons of distinction. Among these was the venerable Ex- 6 Pr'»F'de interest so distil of Amei the unit with re^ are the tliose of countenj intellect capaciou and his ^ gratifyin statesma delightet rence an street wa Mr Ml a distanci carriage. of functi( gentlemei lower plai VOL. I. m\ 1 another the spec- iise. Est uch of it, ree hours become ther good at length Square, in ) conclude 1 arriving, had been this stage accommo- state and 10 proces- ch, it was therefore ses in the ncourse of persons of rable Ex- ex-president MUNROE. 65 Pr^p'dent Munroe. It was, of course, not without interest that I gazed on an individual who had played so distinguished a part during the most perilous epoch of American liistory. He was evidently bent down by the united inroads of age and infirmity; and it was with regret I learned, that to those afflictions, which are the common lot of humanity, had been added tliose of poverty. The expression of Mr Munroe's countenance was mild, though not, I thought, highly intellectual. His forehead was not prominent, yet capacious and well defined. His eye was lustreless, and his whole frame emaciated and feeble. It was gratifying to witness the respect paid to this aged statesman by all who approached bim; and I was delighted to hear the loud demonstrations of reve- rence and honour, with which his appearance in tbe street was hailed by the crowd. Mr Munroe being too feeble to walk even so short a distance, was conveyed to the hustings in an open carriage. His equipage was followed by a cortege of functionaries on foot ; and accompanying these gentlemen, I was admitted without difficulty to tlie lower platform, which contained accommodation for VOL. I. F II Jl : 1 lis I ! <«, I I. ik' ',1 % 66 THE ORATION. m M about a hundred. Having arrived there, we had still to wait some time for the commencement of the performance, during which some vociferous mani- festations of disapprobation were made by the mob, who were prevented from approaching the hustings by an armed force of militia. At length, however, a portly gentleman came forward, and read aloud the address to the French inhabitants of New York, which had been passed at a public meeting. In particular, I observed that his countenance and gestures were directed towards a party of gentlemen of that nation, who occupied a conspicuous station on the stage beneath him. The document was too wordy and prolix, and written in a style of ambi- tious elaboration, which I could not help considering as somewhat puerile. While all this was f^o'iug forward on the hustings, the crowd without were becoming every instant more violent and clamorous ; and a couple of boys were opportunely discovered beneath the higher scaffolding, engaged, either from malice or fun, in knocking away its supports, altogether unembar- rassed by the consideration, that had their efforts RIOTOUS PROCEEDINGS OF THE MOB. 67 J, we liad ent of the ous mani- r the mob, e hustings , however, read aloud '^ew York, eting. In lancc and gentlemen )us station it was too i of ambi- onsjdcring 5 hustings, ry instant le of boys he higher or fun, in uncmbar- leir efforts been successful, they must themselves have been inevitably crushed in the fall of the platform. Notwithstanding these desagremens, the orator — a gentleman named Governor — came forward with a long W'ittei. paper, which he commenced reading in a volt " carcely audible on the hustings, and which certainly could not be heard beyond its limits. The crowd, in consequence, became still more ob- streperous. Having, no doubt, formed high a.itici- pations of pleasure and instruction from the gifted inspiration of this gentleman's eloquence, it was cer- tainly provoking to discover, that not one morsel of it were they destined to enjoy. The orator was, in consequence, addressed in ejaculations by no means complimentary, and such cries as — " Raise your voice, and be damned to you !" "Louder !" — " Speak out !" — " We don't hear a word !" were accompanied by curses which I trust were not deep, in proportion either to their loudness or their number. In vain did Mr Governor strain his throat, in compliance with this unreasonable requisition, but Nature had not formed him cither a Hunt or an O'Connell, and the ill-humour of the multitude was not diminished. 8 1 ■"■ 5 <;:.-. t 68 THE MOB KNOCK DOWN THE HUSTINGS. i'.S. 1^ ai At length order seemed at uii end. A number i.i' the mob broke through the barricade of soldiers, and, climbing up the hustings, increased tlio party there in a most unpleasant degree. But this was not all. The dissatisfied crowd below, thought pro- per to knock away the supports of the scaffolding, and just as Mr Governor was pronouncing a most emphatic period about the slavery of Ireland, down Olio side of it came witli an alarming crash. Fortu- nately some gentlemen had the good sense to exhort every one to remain unmoved ; and from a prudent compliance with this precaution, I believe little in- jury was sustained by any of the party. For my- self, however, being already somewhat tired of the scene, the panic had no sooner ceased, than I took my departure. Altogether, I must say tliat the multitude out of earshot had no great lost*. The c^ration appeared a mere trumpery tissue of florid claptrap, whicli somewhat lowered my opinion with regard to the general standard of taste and intelligence in the American people. On the whole, the affair was a decided failure. What others went to see I know 1^ is. THE AFFAIR A FAILURE. d& umber tf soldiers, he party this was iy;\it pro- liffoldiiig, I a most id, down • Fortu- to exhort i prudent little iii- For ray- Jd of the in I took le out of appeared ), which d to the in the ir was a I know not, but had I not anticipated something better ' worth looking at, than a cavalcade of artisans mount- ed on cart-horses, and dressed out in tawdry finery, or the burlesque of military display by bodies of undrilled militia, I should probably have staid at iiome. I do not say this is in allusion to any defi- ciency of splendour in the pageant itself. A repub- lic can possess but few materials for display, and in the present case I should not have felt otherwise, had the procession been graced by all the da/zling appendages of imperial grandeur. In truth, I had calculated on a sight altogether different. I expected to see a vast multitude animated by one pervading feeling of generous enthusiasm ; to hear the air rent by the trii-mphant shouts of tens of thousands of freemen, hailing the bloodless dawn of liberty, in a mighty member of the brotherhood of nations. As it was, I witnessed not! 'ng so sublime. Throughout the day, there was not the smallest demonstration of entliuslasm on the part of the vast concourse of spectators. There was no cheering, no excitement, no general expression of feeling of any sort ; and I believe the crowd thought just as much of France ;!r^ i f :4S i ■: I i 70 THE CAUSE OF ITS FAILURE. •^ii'll m ^i HV as of Morocco, — the Cham of Tartary, as of Louis Philippe, King of the French, They looked and laughed indeed at the novel sight of their fellow tradesmen and apprentices tricked out in ribbons and white stockings, and pacing, with painted ban- ners, to the sound of music. But the moral of the display, if I may so speak, was utterly over- looked. The people seemed to gaze on the scene before them with the same feeling as Peter Bell did on a primrose ; and it was evident enough — if, with- out irreverence, I may be permitted to parody the fine words of the noblest of contemporary poets, — that in the unexcited imagination of each spectator, A butcher on his steed so trim, A mounted butcher was to him, And he was nothing more. Such was the source of my disappointment in regard to this splendid festivity. How far it was reasonable, others may decide. I can only say I felt it. One of the most pleasant evenings I have passed since my arrival, was at a club composed of gentle- men of literary taste, which includes among its LITERARY CLUB. 71 of Louis )ked and ir felloTir ribbons ited ban- moral of •ly over- he scene Bell did if, with- :ody the poets, — »ectator, nent in it was r say I J passed gentle- ong its members, several of the most eminent individuals of the Union. The meetings are weekly, and take place at the house of each member in succession. The party generally assembles about eight o'clock; an hour or two is spent in conversation ; supper follows ; and after a moderate, though social potation, the meeting breaks up. I had here the honour of being introduced to Mr Livingston, lieutenant-governor of the State, Mr Gallatin, Mr Jay, and several other gentlemen of high accomplishment. Mr Gallatin I regarded with peculiar interest. His name was one with which I had been long fami- liar. Born in Switzerland, he became a citizen of the United States, soon after the Revolution, and found there a field, in which, it was not probable that talents like his, would remain long without high and profitable employment. I believe it was in the cabinet of Mr Jefferson that Mr Gallatin com- menced his career as a statesman. Since then, much of his life has been passed either in high offices at home, or as minister to some of the European Courts ; and the circumstance of his foreign birth rendering him ineligible to the office of President, M ill i\ ' n ii '! 1 i; i > I i ■M' «■'<: i / I I" ttii ' If:- 72 MR GALLATIN. in this veteran statesman and diplomatist, wisely judg- ing that there should be ' some space between the cabinet and grave,' has retired from political life, and finds exercise for his yet unbroken energies in the calmer pursuits of literature. In his youth Mr Gallatin must have been hand" some. His countenance is expressive of great sagacity. He is evidently an acute thinker, and his conversation soon discovered him to be a ruthless exposer of those traditionary or geographical so- phisms, in politics and religion, by which the mind of whole nations has been frequently obscured, and from the influence of which, none perhaps are entire- ly exempt. Mr Gallatin speaks our langu{.f^e with a slight infusion of his native accent, but few have greater command of felicitous expresiiion, or write it with greater purity. An evening passed in such company, could not be other than delightful. There was no monopoly of conversation, but its current flowed on equably and agreeably. Subjects of literature and politics were discussed with an entire absence of that bigotry and dogmatism, which sometimes destroy the pleaj^ure of VOYAGE UP THE HUDSON. 78 ely judg- vveen the life, and ics in the en hand-' of great r, and liis I ruthless hical so- he mind ^'cd, and •e entire- \>%e with 'ew have write it d not be opoly of bly and ics were )try and asure of interchange of opinion, even between minds of high order. For myself, I was glad to enjoy an opportu- nity of observing the modes of thinking peculiar to intellects of the first class, in this new and interesting country, and I looked forward to nothing with more pleasure, than availing myself of the obliging invi- tation to repeat my visits at the future meetings of the Club. Having already passed a fortnight in one unbro- ken chain of engagements in this most hospi^abie city, I determined to give variety to the tissue of my life, by accepting the very kind and pressing invita- tion of Dr Hosack, to visit him at his country-seat on the banks of the Hudson. The various works of this gentleman have rendered his name well known in Europe, and procured his admission to the most eminent Philosophical Institutions in England, France, and Germany. For many years, he enjoyed as a physician the first practice in New York, and has recently retired from the toilsome labours of his profession, With the reputation of great wealth, and the warm esteem of his fellow-citizens. VOL. I. -6 G 74 THE SCENERY OP THE HUDSON. •^lii ■ f. At uight o'clock in tho morning, thui'efore, of n (lay which promised to turn out more than usually raw and diHagrceahlo, I cnibarkod in the Htuam-bout North AmcM'ica, and proceeded up tlic river to Hyde- Park, about eighty miles distant. I had anticipated much enjoyment from tho beautiful scenery on tho Hudson, but the elements were adverse. Wo had scarcely left the quay, when the lowering clouds began to discharge their contents in the form of snow, and the wind was so piercingly cold that I found it impossible, even witli all appliances of cloaks and great-coats, to remain long on deck. Kvery now and then, however, I reascended from below, to see as much as I could, and when nearly half frozen, returned to enjoy the scarcely less inte- resting prospect of the cabin stove. Of course, it was impossible, under such circum- Kiances, to form any just estimate of scenery ; but still the fine objects which appeared occasionally glimmering through the mist, were enough to con- vince rac, that seen under more favourable auspices, my expectations, highly as they had been excited, were not likely to encounter disappointment. That II f THE STEAM- nOAT NOIITH AMEUFCA. 75 ()i'o, of n 1 usually L*am-bout to Hyde- ticipated •y on the Wo had g clouds form of d that I uiiccs of jn duck, led from n nearly less inte- circum- 3ry; but isionally I to con- luspices, excited, t. That portion of tho Hccnory in particular, distinguished by the name of the 1 lighlaudH, struck mo, as com- bining the eh;ni(;iitH of the grand and beautiful, in a very eminent degree. I retnemher nothing on the Rhine at all e<(nal to it. The river at this [)hico has found a passage tlu'ough two ranges of mountains, evidently separated by some convulsion of nature, and which, in beauty and variety oi' form, and gran- deur of effect, can scarcely bo exceeded. But the vessel in which this little voyage was performed, demands some notice, even amid scenery fine as that along which it conducted us with asto- nishing rapidity. Its dimensions seemed gigantic. Being intended solely for river navigation, the keel is ne.irly flat, and the upper portion of the vessel is made to project beyond the hull to a very consi> derable distance on either side. When standing at the stern, and looking forward, the extent of accom- modation appears enormous, though certainly not more than is required for the immense number of passengers who travel daily between New York and Albany. Among other unusual accommodations on deck, I was rather surprised at observing a barber's uX > IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // 1.0 I.I 11.25 ■a|2i 125 ■50 "^^ ■^ Kii 12.2 2* 13.6 ^Mi m ■4.0 I 2.0 u 1^ r ^ fliotcfgrafiiic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STRIET WnSTM,N,Y. 14S80 (716) 87!l-4S03 76 BREAKFAST IN THE STEAM-BOAT. shop, in which, — judging from the state of the visages of my fellow-passengers, — I have no douht that a very lucrative trade is carried on. The accommodation helow was scarcely less wor- thy of note. It consisted of two cahins, which I guessed, by pacing them, to be an hundred and fifty feet in length. The sternmost of these spacious apartments is sumptuously fitted up with abundance of mirrors, ottomans, and other appurtenances of luxury. The other, almost equally large, was very in- ferior in point of decoration. It seemed intended for a sort of tippling-shop, and contained a bar, where liquors of all kinds, from Champagne to small beer, were dispensed to such passengers as have inclination to swallow, and money to pay for them. The sides of both of these cabins were lined with a triple row of sleeping-berths; and as the sofas and benches were likewise convertible to a similar purpose, I was assured, accommodation could be easily furnished for about five hundred. The scene at breakfast was a curiosity. I calcu- lated the number of masticators at about three hun- dred, yet there was no confusion, and certainly no 8 I I BREAKFAST IN THE STEAM-BOAT. 77 le visages )t that a less wor- which I and fifty- spacious undance ances of very in- nded for ', where all heer, lination he sides pie row )enches B, I was rnished calcu^ se hun- inly no scarcity of provision. As for the waiters, their name might have heen Legiorii for they were many, and during the whole entertainment, kept skipping ahout with the most praiseworthy activity, some collecting money, and others engaged in the trans- lation of cutlets and coffee. The proceedings of the party in re breakfast, were no less brief and compen- dious afloat, than I had observed them on shore. As for eatinff, there was nothing like it discoverable on board the North America. Each man seemed to devour, under the uncontrollable impulse of some sudden hurricane of appetite, to which it would be difficult to find any parallel beyond the limits of the Zoological Gardens. A tew minutes did the business. The clatter of knives and voices, vociferous at first, speedily waxed faint and fainter, plates, dishes, cups, and saucers disappeared as if by magic, and every thing connected with the meal became so suddenly invisible, that but for internal evidence, which the hardiest sceptic could scarcely have ventured to dis- credit, the breakfast in the North America might have passed for one of those gorgeous, but unreal 78 ARRIVAL AT HYDE PARK. visions, which, for a moment, mock the eye of the dreamer, and then vanish into thin air. The steamer made several hrief stoppages at vil- lages on the river, for the reception and discharge of goods or passengers. From the large warehouses which these generally contained, they were evident- ly places of considerable deposit for the agricultural produce of the neighbouring country. They were built exclusively of wood, painted of a white colour ; and, certainly, for their population, boasted an unusual number of taverns, which gave notice of their hospitality, on signboards of gigantic dimen- sions. The business to be transacted at these places occasioned but little loss of time. Every arrange- ment had evidently been made to facilitate despatch, and by two o'clock I found myself fairly ashore at Hyde Park, and 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 Hosack himself appeared, having obligingly brought his carriage for VISIT TO DR HOSACK. 79 '6 of the ;s at vil- ;harge of rehouses evident- ieultural ley were B colour ; isted an notice of J dimen- se places arrange- lespatch, ishore at anding- already 'd ahout 3 to the himself •iage for my conveyance. Though the drive from the landing- place led through a prettily variegated country, I was not much in the humour to admire scenery, and looked, I fear, with more indifference on the im- provements past and projected, to which the Doctor directed my attention, than would have heen consis- tent with politeness in a warmer and more comfort- able auditor. The distance, however, was little more than a mile, and, on reaching the house, the dis- agreeables of the journey were speedily forgotten in the society of its amiable inmates, and the enjoy- ment of every convenience which wealth and hospi- tality 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 a£ford him some information relative to the companions of his early studies, many of whom have since risen to eminence, while others, perhaps not less meritorious, have lived and died undistinguished. In return, the Doctor was good enough to favour me, by communicating much valuable knowledge on the state of science and the I' in ^ ^: J -■:.:!*-L 80 HYDE PARK. arts 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 effectually than any barrier of nature. Science is of no country, and its followers, wherever born, constitute a wide and diffusive community, and are linked together by ties of brotherhood and interest, which political hostility cannot sever. These obser- vations were particularly suggested by my inter- course with Dr Hosack. Though our conversation was excursive, and embraced a vast variety of topics fairly debateable between an American and an Eng- lishman, I could really detect nothing of national prejudice in his opinions. He uniformly spoke of the great names of Europe with admiration and re- spect, and his allusions to the achievements of his countrymen in arts, arms, science, or philosophy, betrayed nothing of that vanity and exaggeration, with which, since my arrival, I had already become somewhat familiar. The following morning was bright and beautiful. VIEW FROM THE HOUSE. 81 The snow, except in places where the wind had drifted it into wreaths, had entirely disappeared; and after breakfast, I was glad to accept the invita- tion of my worthy host, to examine his demesne, which was really very beautiful and extensive. No- thing could be finer than the situation of the house* It stands upon a lofty terrace, overhanging the Hud- son, whose noble stream lends richness and gran- deur to the whole extent of the foreground of the landscape. Above, its waters are seen to approach from a country finely variegated, but unmarked by any peculiar boldness of feature. Below, it is lost among a range of rocky and wooded eminences of highly picturesque outline. In one direction alone, however, is the prospect very extensive, and in that, (the southwest,) the Catskill Mountains, sending their bald and rugged 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 re- placed by bare fields, intersected by hideous zigzag fences. God meant it to be beautiful, when He gave such noble varieties of hill and plain, wood and 82 DEMESNE OF DR HOSACK. I '\ water ; but man geemed 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 indiscrimi- nate and unsparing. Yet, of this, it were not only useless, but ridi- culous to complain. Such changes are not op- tional, but imperative. The progress of population necessarily involves them, and they must be regard- ed only as the process by which the wilderness is brought to minister to the wants and enjoyments of civilized man. The time at length comes, when an- other and a higher beauty replaces that which has been destroyed. It is only the state of transition which it is unpleasant to behold ; the particular stage of advancement in which the wild grandeur of na- ture has disappeared, and the charm of cultivation has not yet replaced it. Dr Hosack was a farmer, and took great interest in the laudable, but expensive amusement of im- proving his estate. He had imported sheep and cattle from England, of the most improved breeds, and in this respect promised to be a benefactor to his neigh- bou thel FARMING IN AMERICA. 83 bourhood. I am not much of a farmer, and found the Doctor sagacious about long horns and short legs, in a degree which impressed me with a due con- sciousness of my ignorance. The farm offices were extensive and well arranged, and contained some excellent horses. A pair of powerful carriage-horses, in particular, attracted my admiration. In this country these fine animals cost only two hundred dollars. In London, I am sure, that under Tatter- sail's hammer, they would not fetch less than three hundred guineas. But America is not the place for a gentleman far- mer. The price of labour is high, and besides, it cannot always be commanded at any price. The condition of society is not yet ripe for farming on a great scale. There will probably be no American Mr Coke for some centuries to come. The Trans- atlantic Sir John Sinclairs 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 great ones out of the field. What a man produces by his own labour, and that of his family, he produces s t'i li^' 84 RETURN TO NEW YORK. cheaply. What he is compelled to hire others to perform, is done expensively. It is always the in- terest of the latter to get as much, and give as little lahour in exchange for it as they can. Then arises the necessity of hailiffs and overseers, fresh mouths to be fed and pockets 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 accompany me on board, and introduce me to a family of the neighbourhood, who were re- turning from their summer residence to pass the winter in the city. In its members, was included one of the most intelligent and accomplished ladies I have ever met in any country. The voyage, there- fore, did not appear tedious, though the greater part of it was performed in the dark. About ten o'clock the steam-boat was alongside the quay, and I speed- ily found myself installed in my old quarters in Bunker's hotel. SEMINARY OF EDUCATION. 85 CHAPTER IV. NEW YORK. Professor Griscomb, a member of the Societv of Friends, was obliging enough to conduct me over a large seminary placed under his immediate super- intendence. The general plan of education is one with which, in Scotland at least, we are familiar, and I did not remark that any material improvement had followed its adoption in the United States. To divide boys into large classes of fifty or a hundred, in which, of course, the rate of advancement of the slowest boy must regulate that of the cleverest and most assiduous, does not, I confess, appear a system founded on very sound or rational principles. On this plan of retardation, it is, of course, necessary to discover some employment for the boys, whose ta- I , ■P PLAN OF EDUCATION. lents enable them to outstrip their fellows ; and this is done by appointing them to the office of monitor, or teacher, of a subdivision of the class. This mode of communicating knowledge has its advantages and its faults. It is no doubt beneficial to the great body of the class, who are instructed with greater facility, and less labour to the master. But the monitors are little better than scapegoats, who, with some injus- tice, are made to pay the whole penalty of the com- parative dulness of their companions. The system, however, I have been assured, both in this country and in England, is found to work well, and I have no doubt it does so in respect to the average amount of instruction imparted to the pupils. But the prin- ciple of sacrificing the clever few, for the advance- ment of the stupid many, is one, I still humbly con- ceive, to be liable to strong objections. Of esta- blishments on this principle, I have seen none more successful than that of Professor Griscomb. Every thing which zeal and talent on the part of the mas- ter could effect, had obviously been done ; and on the part of the scholars, there was assuredly no want 1; SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 87 (vs ; and this of monitor, This mode vantages and le great hody later facility, monitors are some injus- r of the com- The system, this country , and I have '.rage amount 3ut the prin- he advance- humbly con- Of esta- n none more )mb. Every of the mas- me; and on dly no want of proficiency in any branch of knowledge adapted to their age and capacity. A striking difference exists between the system of rewards and punishments adopted in the schools of the United States, and in those of England. In the former, neither personal infliction, nor forcible coercion of any kind, is permitted. How far such a system is likely to prove successful, I cannot yet form an opinion, but judging solely from the semi- nary under Dr Griscomb, I should be inclined to aug'ir favourably of its results. It has always, how- ever, appeared strange to me, that the Americans should betray so strong an antipathy to the system of the public schools of England. There are no other establishments, perhaps, in our country, so entirely republican both in principle and practice. Rank is there allowed no privileges, and the only recognised aristocracy is that of personal qualities. Yet these schools are far from finding favour in American eyes. The system of fagging, in particular, is regarded with abhorrence ; and since my arrival, I have never met any one who could even speak of it with patience. The state of feeling on this matter > I) 'k ! i -■, r. Hi I I, .; ! 13 E-' I ■.,.;- .j mi P"l n-'h f 88 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. in the two countries presents this curious anomaly : A young English nobleman is sent to Westminster or Winchester to brush coats and wash tea-cups, while the meanest American storekeeper would red- den with virtuous indignation at the very thought of the issue of his loins contaminating his plebeian blood by the discharge of such functions. This difference of feeling, however, seems to ad- mit of easy explanation. In England, the menial offices in question form the duties of freemen; in America, even in those States where slavery has been abolished, domestic service being discharged by Negroes, is connected with a thousand degrading associations. So powerful are these, that I have never yet conversed with an American who could understand that there is nothing intrinsically dis- graceful in such duties ; and their being at all con- sidered so, proceeds entirely from a certain confu- sion of thought, which connects the office with the manners and character of those by whom it is dis- charged. In a country where household services are generally performed by persons of respectable character, on a level, in point of morals and acquire- Ei li L SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 89 ment) with other handicraftsmen, it is evident that such prejudice could exist in no material degree. But it certainly could not exist at all in a country, where for a certain period such services were per- formed by all, including every rank below royalty. Let the idea of personal degradation, therefore, be wholly abstracted, and then the question will rest on its true basis, namely, whether such discipline as that adopted in our public schools, be favourable to the improvement of the moral character or not ? In England, the system is believed from long ex- perience to work practically well. No man will say, that British gentlemen, formed under the discipline of these institutions, are deficient in high bearing, or in generous spirit ; nor will it readily be consi- dered a disadvantage, that those who are afterwards to wield the united influence of rank and wealth, should, in their early years, be placed in a situation, where their personal and moral qualities alone can place them even on an equality with their compa- nions. It is very probable, indeed, that a system suited to a country, in which gradation of ranks forms an VOL. I. H , } \ i I i if i 90 SCHOOL FOR CHILDREN OF COLOUR. integral part of the constitution, may not be adapted to another, which differs so widely in these respects, as the United States. Here, there is no pride of birth or station to be overcome ; and whether, under cir- cumstances so different, the kind of discipline in question might operate beneficially or otherwise, is a point on which I certainly do not presume to decide. I only assert my conviction, that in this country it has never yet been made the subject of liberal and enlightened discussion, and therefore that the value of Transatlantic opinion with regard to it is absolutely null. The conclusion adopted may be right, but the grounds on which it is founded are evidently wrong. Having resolved to devote the day to the inspec- tion of schools, I went from that under the superin- tendence of Professor Griscomb, to another for the education of children of colour. I here found about a hundred boys, in whose countenances might be traced every possible gradation of complexion be- tween those of the swarthy Ethiop and florid Euro- pean. Indeed several of the children were so fair, that I certainly never should have discovered the SCHOOL FOR CHILDREN OF COLOUR. 91 lurking taint of African descent. In person they were clean and neat, and though of course the off- spring of the very lowest class of the people, there was nothing in their dress or appearance indicative of ahject poverty. The master struck me as an in- telligent and benevolent man. He frankly answered all my questions, and evidently took pride in the proficiency of his pupils. It has often happened to me, since ray arrival in this country, to hear it gravely maintained by men of education and intelligence, that the Negroes were an inferior race, a link as it were between man and the brutes. Having enjoyed few opportunities of observation on people of colour in my own coun- try, I was now glad to be enabled to enlarge my knowledge on a subject so interesting. I therefore requested the master to inform me whether the re- sults of his experience had led to the inference, that the aptitude of the Negroe children for acquiring knowledge was inferior to that of the whites. In reply, he assured me they had not done so ; and, on the contrary, declared, that in sagacity, perseverance, and capacity for the acquisition and retention of i Sf ill I 11 li! ft ■ J I ri!!^ 92 CONDITION OF COLOURED POPULATION. knowledge, his poor despised scholars were equal to any boys he had ever known. "But alas, sir !" said he, " to what end are these poor creatures taught acquirement, from the exercise of which they are destined to be debarred, by the prejudices of society? It is surely but a cruel mockery to cultivate talents, when in the present state of public feeling, there is no field open for their useful employment. Be his acquirements what they may, a Negi*oe is still a Negroe, or, in other words, a creature marked out for degradation, and exclusion from those objects which stimulate the hopes and powers of other men." I observed, in reply, that I was not aware that, in those States in which slavery had been abolished, any such barrier existed as that to which he alluded. " In the State of New York, for instance," I asked, " are not all offices and professions 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 would not have asked such a question." He then went on to inform me, that the exclusion in question did not arise from any legislative enactment, but from the tyranny of that i TION. 'ere equal to LS, sir !" said ures taught cli they are is of society? vate talents, ing, there is int. Be his 96 is still a marked out lose objects other men," 'are that, in abolished, he alluded, e," I asked, to the man are not a have asked inform me, 36 from any my of that PROFICIENCY OF THE SCHOLARS. 93 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 accord- ed 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 subsequent- ly afforded many gratifying proofs of the proficiency of his scholars. One class were employed in navi- gation, and worked several complicated problems with great accuracy and rapidity. A large propor- tion were perfectly conversant with arithmetic, and not a few with the lower mathematics. A long and rigid examination took place in geography, in the course of which questions were answered with faci- lity, which I confess would have puzzled me exceed- ingly, had they been addressed to myself. I had become so much interested in the little party-coloured crowd before me, that I recurred to our former discourse, and enquired of the master, what would probably become of his scholars on their being sent out into the world? Some trades, some description of labour of course were open to I 1^^ 04) THE COLOURED POPULATION NOT FREE, them, and I expressed my desire to know what these were. He told me they were few. The class study- ing navigation, were destined to he sailors ; hut let their talents be what they might, it was impossible they could rise to be officers of the paltriest mer- chantman that entered the waters of the United States. The office of cook or steward was indeed within the scope of their ambition; but it was just as feasible for the poor creatures to expect to become Chancellor of the State, as mate of a ship. In other pursuits it was the same. Some would become stone- masons, or bricklayers, and to the extent of carrying a hod, or handling a trowel, the course was clear before them ; but the office of master-bricklayer was open to them in precisely the same sense as the Professorship of Natural Philosophy. No white artificer would serve under a coloured master. The most degraded Irish emigrant would scout the idea with indignation. As carpenters, shoemakers, or tailors, they were still arrested by the same barrier. In either of the latter capacities, indeed, they might work for people of their own complexion, but no gentleman would ever think of ordering garments of SUBJECTED TO THE SLAVERY OF OPINION. 95 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 house> hold matron purchasing tea or spiceries from a vile " Nigger ?" As barbers, they were more fortunate, and in that capacity might even enjoy the privilege of taking the President of the United States by the nose. Throughout the Union, the department of domestic service peculiarly belongs to them, though recently they are beginning to find rivals in the Irish emigrants, who come annually in swarms like locusts. On the whole, I cannot help considering it a mis- take to suppose, that slavery has been abolished in the Northern 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 property in the thews and sinews of another. But is this all that is implied in the boon of freedom? If the word mean any thing, it must mean the enjoyment of equal rights, and the unfettered exercise in each indivi- dual of such powers and faculties as God has given s . t 96 NEGROES A DEGRADED CLASvSl him. In this true meaning of the word, it may he safely asserted, that this poor degraded caste are still slaves. They are suhjected to the most grinding and humiliating of all slaveries, that of universal and unconqucrahle prejudice. The whip, indeed, has heen removed from the back of the Negro, but the chains are still on his limbs, and he bears the brand of degradation on his forehead. What is it but mere abuse of language to call him Jreey who is tyrannically deprived of all the motives to exertion which animate other men ? The law, in truth, has left him in that most pitiable of all conditions, a masterless slave. It cannot be denied, that the Negro population are still compelled, as a class, to be the hewers of wood, and drawers of water, to their fellow-citizens. Citi- zens ! there is indeed something ludicrous in the application of the word to these miserable Pariahs. What privileges do they enjoy as such ? Are they admissible upon a jury ? Can they enroll themselves in the militia ? Will a white man eat with them, or extend to them the hand of fellowship ? Alas ! if these men, so irresistibly manacled to degradation. CONDITION OF THE COLOURED POPULATION. 97 are to be called yree, tell us, at least, what stuflF are slaves mrtle of! But on this subject, perhaps, another tone of ex- pression — of thought, there can be no other — may be more judicious. I have already seen abundant proofs, that the prejudices against the coloured por- tion of the population, prevail to an extent, of which an Englishman could have formed no idea. But many enlightened men, I am convinced, are above them. To these I would appeal. They have already begun the work of raising this unfortunate race from the almost brutal state to which tyranny and injustice had condemned it. But let them not con- tent themselves with such delusive benefits as the extension of the right of suffrage, recently conferred by the Legislature of New York.* The opposition i'.': * The Legislature of New York, in 1829, extended the right of suffrage to men of colour, possessed of a clear freehold estate, without encumbrance, of the value of 250 dollars. A very safe concession no doubt, since to balance the black interest, the same right of suifrage was granted to every white male of twenty-one years, who has been one year in the State. It might be curious to know how many coloured voters became qualified by this enactment. They must in- deed have been rari nuntes in gvrgitc vasto of the election. VOL. I. I 5' i ;^Mi I i: i! : I I I I ' I 98 CONDITION OF THE COLOURED POPULATION. to be overcome, is not that of laWf but of opinion. If in unison with the ministers of religion, they will set their shoulders to the wheel, and combat preju- dice with reason, ignorance with knowledge, and Pharisaical assumption with the mild tenets of Chris- tianity, they must succeed in infusing a better tone into the minds and hearts of their countrymen. It is true, indeed, the victory will not be achieved in a day, nor probably in an age, but assuredly it will come at last. In achieving it, they will become the benefactors, not only of the Negro population, but of their fellow-citizens. They will give freedom to both; for the man is really not more free whose mind is shackled by degrading prejudice, than he who is its victim. As illustrative of the matter in hand, I am tempt- ed here to relate an anecdote, though somewhat out of place, as it did not occur till my return to New York in the following Spring. Chancing one day at the Ordinary at Bunker's, to sit next an English merchant from St Domingo ; in the course of con- versation, he mentioned the following circumstances. The son of a Haytian general, high in the favour of hi I ANECDOTE OF A YOUNG HAYTIAN. 99 Boyer, recently accompanied him to New York, which he came to visit for pleasure and instruction. This young man, though a mulatto, was pleasing in manner, and with more intelligence than is usually to he met with in a country in which education is so defective. At home, he had been accustomed to receive all the deference due to his rank, and when he arrived in New York, it was with high anticipa- tions of the pleasure that awaited him in a city so opulent and enlightened. On landing, he enquired for the best hotel, and directed his baggage to be conveyed there. He was rudely refused admittance, and tried several others with similar result. At length he was forced to take up his abode in a miserable lodging-house kept by a Negro woman. The pride of the young Hay tian, (who, sooth to say, was something of a dandy, and made imposing display of gold chains and brooches,) was sadly galled by this, and the experience of every hour tended further to confirm the conviction, that, in this country, he was regarded as a degraded being, with whom the meanest white man would hold it disgraceful to associate. In the evening he it ii 1* t. J ^ H. i 1 1 i I'. W 1 i If i 1 !-5j I, 1 3 ii II J. [Mr I 1'^ : * 100 DIFFERENCE OF FF.KLING IN ENGLAND went to tlio tliPiitre, and tciidenMl Iiin money to the box-kcepur. It Wii8 tosKcd back to bim, witb a dis- dainful intimation, tliat ilio pbicc for pci'KonR of biB colour was tlic upper gallery. On tbo following morning, my countryman, wbo bad frequently been a guoKt at tbe table of bis fa- tber, paid bim a visit. lie found tbe young Hay- tian in despair. All bis dreams of pleasure were gone, and be returned to bis native island by tbe first conveyance, to visit tbe United States no more. Tins young man sbould bave gone to Euro[)e. Sbould be visit England, be may feel quite secure, tbat if be bave money in bis pocket, be will offer himself at no botel, from Land's End to Jobn O'- Groat's bouse, wberc he will not meet a very cor- dial reception. Clmrches, theatres, operas, concerts, coaches, chariots, cabs, vans, waggons, steam-boats, railway carriages and air balloons, will all be open to him as tbe daylight. He may repose on cushions of down or of air, he may charm his ear with music, and his palate witb luxuries of all sorts. He may travel en prince or en roturier, precisely as his fancy dictates, and may enjoy even tbe honours of a crown- .■ • ' ' I c •' «» IN UEGARD TO PEOl'LE OF COLOUFl. 101 ed liuad, if lie will only pay like one. In Nliort| so long as he carries certain golden bidlast alfoiit with him, all will go well. Bnt, when that is done, (iod help him. lie will then become familiar with the provi- sions of the vagrant act, and Mr Roe or Mr Ballantine will recommend exercise on the treadmill, for the benefit of his constitution. Let him but show his nose abroad, and a whole host of parish overseers will take alarm. The new police will bait him like a bull ; and should he dare approach even the lowest eating-house, the master will shut the door in his face. If ho ask charity, he will be told to work. If he beg work, he will be told to get about his busi- ness. If he steal, he will be found a free passage to Botany Bay, and be dressed gratis on his arrival, in an elegant suit of yellow. If he rob, he will be found a free passage to another world, in which, as there is no paying or receiving in payment, we may hope that his troubles will be at an end for ever. I' 5! « i i J 1,1 J I . ii ' ! 102 HOUSES IN NEW YORK. CHAPTER V. NEW YORK. Having moved, since my arrival, in a tolerably wide circle, I now feel qualified to oflPer some obser- vations on the state of society in New York. The houses of the better order of citizens, are generally of brick, sometimes faced with stone or marble, and in the allotment of the interior very similar to tene- ments of the same class in England. The dining and drawing-rooms are uniformly on the ground floor, and communicate by folding doors, which, when dinner is announced, are thrown open for the transit of the company. The former of these apart- ments, so far as my observation has carried me, dif- fers nothing in appearance from an English one. But the drawing-rooms in New York certainly strike ■1 i DEFICIEN(?r IN POINT OF ELEGANCE. 103 I a tolerably some obser- York. The re generally marble, and ilar to tene- The dining the ground ors, which, jpen for the these apart- icd me, dif- nglish one. ainly strike i I ■I me as being a good deal more primitive in their ap- pliances than those of the more opulent classes in the old country. Furniture in the United States is apparently not one of those articles in which wealth takes pride in displaying its superiority. Every thing is comfortable, but every thing is plain. Here are no buhl tables, nor or-molu clocks, nor gigantic mirrors, nor cabinets of Japan, nor draperies of silk or velvet ; and one certainly does miss those thou- sand elegancies, with which the taste of British ladies delights in adorning their apartments. In short, the appearance of an American mansion is de- cidedly republican. No want remains un supplied, while nothing is done for the gratification of a taste for expensive luxury. This is as it should be. There are few instances of such opulence in America as would enable its owner, without inconvenience, to lavish thousands on pictures, ottomans, and china vases. In such a country, there are means of profitable outlay for every shilling of accumulated capital, and the Ame- ricans are too prudent a people to invest in objects of mere taste, that which, in the more vulgar shape m Its 111 II ■' I I 104 CUSTOM OF PRIMOGENITURE. of cotton or tobacco, would tend to the replenishing of their pockets. And, after all, it is better, per- haps, to sit on leather or cotton, with a comfortable balance at one's banker's book, than to lounge on damask, and tread on carpets of Persia, puzzling our brains about the budget and the ways and means. One cause of the effect just noticed, is unquestion- ably the absence of the law, or rather the custom of primogeniture. A man whose fortune, at his death, must be divided among a numerous family in equal proportions, will not readily invest any considerable portion of it, in such inconvertible objects as the productions of the fine arts, and still less in articles of mere household luxury, unsuited to the circum- stances of his descendants. It will rarely happen that a father can bequeath to each of his children enough to render them independent. They have to struggle into opulence as best they may ; and assu- redly, to men so circumstanced, nothing could be more inconvenient and distasteful, than to receive any part of their legacies, in the form of pictures, or scagliola tables, instead of Erie canal shares, or bills of the New York Bank, 1 I SERVANTS IN AMERICA. 105 5 replenishing s better, per- a comfortable to lounge on , puzzling our and means. s unquestion- the custom of , at his death, mily in equal ' considerable bjects as the ss in articles the circum- arely happen his children hey have to ; and assu- ng could be 1 to receive of pictures, il shares, or Another circumstance, probiibly not without its effect in recommending both paucity and plainness of furniture, is the badness of the servants. These are chiefly people of colour, habituated from their cradle to be regarded as an inferior race, and con- sequently sadly wanting both in moral energy and principle. Every lady with whom I have conversed on the subject, speaks with envy of the superior comforts and facilities of an English establishment. A coloured servant, they declare, requires perpe- tual supervision. He is an executive, not a delibe- rative being. Under such circumstances the drud- gery that devolves on an American matron, I should imagine to be excessive. She must direct every ope- ration that is going on from the garret to the cellar. She must be her own housekeeper ; superintend all the outgoings and comings in, and interfere in a thousand petty and annoying details, which, in Eng- land, go on like clock-work, out of sight and out of thought. If it fare so with the mistress of an establishment, the master has no sinecure. A butler is out of the question. He would much rather know that the 106 SERVANTS IN AMERICA. keys of his cellar were at the hottom of the Hudson, than in the pocket of black Caesar, tvith a fair op* portunity of getting at his Marston or his Bingham. Few of the coloured population have energy to resist temptation. The dread of punishment has been re- moved as an habitual motive to exertion, but the sense of inextinguishable degradation yet remains. The torment of such servants has induced many families in New York to discard them altogether, and supply their places with natives of the Emerald Isle. It may be doubted, whether the change has gene- rally been accompanied by much advantage. Do» mestic service in the United States, is considered as degrading by all untainted by the curse of African descent. No native American could be induced to it, and popular as the present President may be, he would probably not find one of his constituents, whom any amount of emolument would induce to brush his coat, or stand behind his carriage. On their arrival in this country, therefore, the Scotch and English, who are not partial to being looked down upon by their neighbours, very soon get hold of this prejudice; but he of that terrestrial paradise, ill ' SERVANTS IN AMERICA. 107 )f the Hudson, pvith a fair op* p his Bingham, mergy to resist it has been re- irtion, but the yet remains, induced many iltogcther, and Emerald Isle, nge has gene- k^antage. Do- considered as rse of African )e induced to it may be, he constituents, lid induce to arriage. On e, the Scotch being looked soon get hold ;rial paradise, ** first flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea," has no such scruples. Landing often at the quay of New York, without hat, shoes, and sometimes less dispensable garments, he is content to put his pride in his pocket, where there is always ample room for its accommodation. But even with him domestic service is only a temporary expedient. The moment he contrives to scrape together a little money, he bids his master good morning, and, fired with the ambition of farming or storekeeping, starts off for the back country. The nuisance of this is, that no white servant is ever stationary in a place. He comes a mere clod- ^ pole, and is no sooner taught his duty, and become I an useful member of the house, than he accepts the i Chiltern Hundreds, and a new writ must forthwith ^ be issued for a tenant of the pantry. Now, though annual elections may be very good things in the body politic^ the most democratic American will pro- bably admit, that in the body domestic^ the longer the members keep their seats the better. Habits of office are of some value in a valet, as well as in a % secretary of state, and how these are to be obtained ■t 1' :)i!l rli III It t 'i ' n. ;i III in ii: Ii / 108 SERVANTS IN AMERICA. by either functionary, as matters are at present or- dered in this country, I profess myself at a loss to understand. When you enter an American house, eitlier in quality of casual visitor or invited guest, the servant never thinks of ushering you to the company ; on the contrary, he immediately disappears, leaving you to explore your way, in a navigation of which you know nothing, or to amuse yourself in the passage by counting the hat-pegs and umbrellas. In a strange house, one cannot take the liberty of bawling for assistance, and the choice only remains of opening doors on speculation, with the imminent risk of in- truding on the bedroom of some young lady, or of cutting the gordian knot by escaping through the only one you know any thing about. I confess, that the first time I found myself in this unpleasant pre- dicament, the latter expedient was the one I adopted, though I fear not without offence to an excellent family, who, having learned the fact of my admis- sion, could not be supposed to understand the motive of my precipitate retreat. On the whole, the difference is not strikinj_', I MANNERS OF THE HIGHER ORDERS. 109 should imagine, between the social habits of the people of New York, and those prevalent in our first-rate mercantile cities. In both, the faculties are exerted in the same pursuits; in both, the domi- nant aristocracy is that of wealth ; and in both, there is the same grasping at unsubstantial and un- acknowledged distinctions. It is the fashion to call the United States the land of liberty and equality. If the term equality be understood simply as implying, that there exists no privileged order in America, the assertion, though not strictly true,* may pass. In any wider acceptation it is mere nonsense. There is quite as much prac- tical equality in Liverpool as New York. The mag- nates of the Exchange do not strut less proudly in the latter city than in the former; nor are their : wives and daughters more backward in supporting I their pretensions. In such matters legislative enact- ments can do nothing. Man's vanity, and the de- sire of distinction inherent in his nature, cannot be 5 .' lot striking*, I ^ * Not strictly true, because in many of the States the right of suf- s| frnge is made dependent on a certain qualification in property. In * Virginia, in particular, this quiilifiration is very high. 't'. i If; m m [if tl i .1 'f I!* I::' .'■1 ','1 111 ! i ill ' : jii: 11' •1 jJ5 ■; prominent individuals who composed it. Unfortu- nately, lie considered it necessary to preface each repetition of the ceremony with some preliminary account of the pecuniary circumstances of the gen- tleman, the honour of whose acquaintance was about to be conferred on me. " Do you observe," he asked, ** that tall thin person, with a cast in his eye, and his nose a little cocked? Well, that man, not three months ago, made an hundred thousand dol- lars by A single speculation in tallow. You must allow me to introduce you to him." The introduction passed, and my zealous cicerone again approached, with increased importance of as- pect — " A gentleman," he said, " worth at least half a million, had expressed a desire to make my acquaintance." This was gratifying, and, of course, not to be denied. A third time did our worthy en- tertainer return to the charge, and before taking my departure, I had the honour of being introduced to an individual) who was stated to be still more opulent than his predecessors. Had I been pre- sented to so many bags of dollars, instead of to their I J ; ; '!!' ! AMERICAN CONVERSATION. 115 possessors, the ceremony would have been quite as interesting, and perliaps less troublesome. The truth is, that in a population wholly devoted to money-getting, the respect paid to wealth is so pervadingly difTiised, that it rarely occurred to any one, that it was impossible I should feel the slightest interest in the private circumstances of the gentle- men with whom I might chance to form a transient acquaintance. It is far from my intention, however, to assert, that many of the travelled and more intel- ligent order of Americans could be guilty of such sottises as that to which I have alluded. But it is unquestionably true, that the tone of conversation, even in the best circles, is materially lowered by the degree in which it is engrossed by money and its various interests. Since my arrival, I have received much involuntary instruction in the prices of corn, cotton, and tobacco. I am already well informed as to the reputed pecuniary resources of every gentle- man of my acquaintance, and the annual amount of his disbursements. My stock of information as to bankruptcies and dividends is very respectable ; and if the manufacturers of Glasgow and Paisley knew 1 ' 1' ' i It ill ■^1 'i t ■ !r : il , ' ,il M fli ! 1'- ; li il i * I ^'11 M' -** ^1 :iS li-ni li : i;i'»! ? "1:ii iPi: 116 NEW YORK PARTIES. only half as well as I do, how thoroughly the New York market is glutted with their goods, they assu- redly would send out no more on speculation. The usual dinner hour at New York is three o'clock, and as the gentlemen almost uniformly return to the discharge of business in the evening, it may be pre- sumed that dinner parties are neither convenient to the entertainer nor the guests. Though not uncom- mon, therefore, they are certainly less frequent than among individuals of the same class in England. This circumstance has, perhaps, wrought some change in their character, and deprived them of that appearance of easy and habitual hospitality, for the absence of which, additional splendour or profusion can afford but imperfect compensation. When a dinner party is given in this country, it is always on a great scale. Earth, and air, and ocean, are ran- sacked for their products. The whole habits of the family are deranged. The usual period of the meal is postponed for several hours ; and considering the materials of which an American menage is compo- sed, it is not difficult to conceive the bustle and con- fusion participated by each member of the establish- NEW YORK PARTIES. 117 ment, from Peter, the saffron- coloured groom of the chambers, to Silvia, the black kitchen wench. In the ordinary routine, therefore, of American intercourse, visiting seldom commences till the even- ing, when tlie wealthier members of the community almost uniformly open their houses for the reception of company. Of this hospitable arrangement I have frequently taken advantage. On such occasions little ceremony is observed. Each guest enters and departs when he thinks proper, without apology or explanation. Music and conversation are the usual entertainments — some slight refection is handed round, and before midnight the party has broken up. This facility of intercourse is both pleasant and convenient to a stranger like myself. It affords valuable opportunities for the observation of man- ners ; and it is pleasing to be admitted within the charmed circle, which many of my predecessors have found it difficult, if not impossible, to over- pass. The formalities of a New York dinner do not differ much from those of an English one. Unfortunately, ■■'1 ■ I 118 DINNER PARTIES. ill !P ^ III 'i ■ ill i^*i it is not here the fashion to invite the fairer part of creation to entertainments so gross and substantial, and it rarely happens that any ladies are present on such occasions, except those belonging to the family of the host. The party, however, is always enli- vened by their presence at the tea-table, and then comes music, and perhaps dancing, while those who, like myself, are disqualified for active participation in such festivities, talk with an air of grave autho- rity, of revolutions in Europe, the prospects of war or peace. Parliamentary Reform, and other high and interesting matters. Before dinner, the conversation of the company assembled in the drawing-room is here, as elsewhere, generally languid enough ; but a change suddenly comes over the spirit of their dream : The folding- doors which communicate with the dining-room are thrown open, and all paradise is at once let in on the | soul of a gourmand. The table, instead of display- ing, as with us, a mere beggarly account of fi8h and soup, exhibits an array of dishes closely wedged in triple column, which it would require at least an | acre of mahogany to deploy into line. Plate, it is 1 DINNER PARTIES. 119 fairer part of (1 substantial, ire present on to the family always enli- ble, and then ile those who, participation grave autho- spects of war )ther high and the company as elsewhere, nge suddenly The folding- ling-room are e let in on the ad of display- nt of fish and jly wedged in e at least an Plate, it is ??. true, does not contribute much to the splendour of the prospect, but there is quite enough for comfort, though not perhaps for display. The lady of the mansion is handed in form to her seat, and the enter- tainment begins. The domestics, black, white, snuiF- coloured, and nankeen, are in motion ; plates vanish and appear again as if by magic ; turtle, cold-blooded by nature, has become hot as Sir Charles Wetherell, and certainly never moved so rapidly before. The flight of ham and turkey is unceasing; venison bounds from one end of the table to the other, with a velocity never exceeded in its native forest ; and the energies of twenty human beings are all evidently concentrated in one common occupation. During soup and fish, and perhaps the first slice of the haunch, conversation languishes, but a glass or two of Champagne soon operates as a corrective. The eyes of the young ladies become more brilliant, and those of elderly gentlemen acquire a certain benevolent twinkle, which indicates, that for the time being they are in charity with themselves and all mankind. At length the first course is removed, and is sue- ''tli I 120 WINES. !! 1 J.,'' :,i .;>!3 in W !li! :!i!'; K M Hi: i ceeded by a whole wilderness of sweets. This, too, passes, for it is impossible, alas ! to eat for ever. Then come cheese and the dessert; then the departure of the ladies ; and Claret and Madeira for an hour or twain are unquestioned lords of the ascendant. The latter is almost uniformly excellent. I have never drank any Madeira in Europe at alle quailing what I have frequently met in the United States. Gourmets attribute this superiority partly to climate, but in a great measure to management. Madeira, in this country, is never kept as with us, in a subterra- nean vault, where the temperature throughout the year is nearly equal. It is placed in the attics, where it is exposed to the whole fervour of the summer's heat, and the severity of winter's cold. The effect on the flavour of the wine is certainly remarkable. The Claret is generally good, but not better than in England ; Port is used by the natives only as a medicine, and is rarely produced at table except in compliment to some English stranger, it being a settled canon, here as elsewhere, that every English- man drinks Port. I have never yet seen fine Sherry, 1 OL NERVATIONS ON MANNERS. 121 probably because that wine has not yet risen into esteem in the United States. The gentlemen in America pique themselves on their discrimination in wine, in a degree which is not common in England. The ladies have no sooner risen from table, then the business of winebibbing commences in good earnest. The servants still re- main in the apartment, and supply fresh glasses to the guests as the successive bottles make their ap- pearance. To each of these a history is attached, and the vintage, the date of importation, &c., arc all duly detailed ; then come the criticisms of the com- pany, and as each bottle produced contains wine of a different quality from its predecessor, there is no chance of the topic being exhausted. At length, having made the complete tour of the cellar, pro- ceeding progressively from the commoner wines to those of finest flavour, the party adjourns to the drawing-room, and, after coffee, each guest takes his departure without ceremony of any kind. It would be most ungrateful were I not to declare, that r have frequently found these dinner parties extremely pleasant. I admit that there is a plain- VOL. I. L m. i il ml :; -1: •t; 122 OBSERVATIONS ON MANNERS. ness and even bluntnoss in American manners, somewhat startling at first to a sophisticated Euro- pean. Questions are asked with regard to one's habits, family, pursuits, connexions, and opinions, which are never put in Enghind, except in a wit- ness box, after the ceremony of swearing on the four Evangelists. But this is done with the most perfect bonhommie^ and evidently without the small- est conception, that such examination can possibly be offensive to the patient. It is scarcely fair to judge one nation by the conventional standard of another ; and travellers who are tolerable enough of the peculiarities of their continental neighbours, ought in justice, perhaps, to make more allowance than they have yet done, for those of Brother Jona- than. Such questions, no doubt, would be sheer impertinence in an Englishman, because, in putting them, he could not but be aware, that he was viola- ting the established courtesies of society. They arc not so in an American, because he has been brought up with different ideas, and under a social regime more tolerant of individual curiosity, than is held in Europe to be compatible with good manners. Yet, OBSERVATIONS ON MANNERS. 123 after all, it must bo owned, that it is not always pleasant, to feel yourself the object of a scrutiny, often somewhat coarsely conducted, and generally too apparent to be mistaken. I do assert, however, that in noo ther country I have ever visited, are the charities of life so readily and so profusely opened to a stranger as in the United States. In no other country will he receive attentions so perfectly disin- terested and benevolent ; and in none, when he seeks acquaintances, is it so probable that he will find friends. It has been often said, — indeed said so often as to have passed into a popular apophthegm, that a strong prejudice against Englishmen exists in America. Looking back on the whole course of my experience in that country, I now declare, that no assertion more utterly adverse to truth, was ever palmed by prejudice or ignorance, on vulgar credulity. That a prejudice exists, I admit, but instead of being against Englishmen, as compared with the natives of other countries, it is a prejudice in their favour. The Americans do not weigh the merits of their foreign visitors in an equal balance. They are only too apt I I m ^iiijf'#i m ' I yy] 1! .1111": 'I '1 * M' i 124 FEELING TOWARDS THE ENGLISH. to throw their own partialities into the scale of the Englishman, and give it a preponderance to which the claims of the individual have probably no pre- tensions. I beg, however, to be understood. Of the vast multitude of English whom the extensive com- mercial intercourse between the countries draws to the United States, few, indeed, are persons of liberal acquirement, or who have been accustomed to mix in good society in their own country. Coming to the United States on the pursuits of business, they are, of course, left to the attentions of those gentle- men with whom their professional relations bring them more particularly in contact. Admitting, for argument's sake, that all those persons were entirely unexceptionable both in manners and morals, their mere number, which is very great, would, in itself, ■■. operate as an exclusion. That they are hospitably received, I have no doubt, nor have I any that theyj meet with every attention and [facility which com- mercial men can expect in a commercial commu* nity. But when an English gentleman, actuated by mo- J:;iiin -'* HOSPITALITY TO STRANGERS. 125 ctuated by mo- tives of liberal curiosity, visits ibeir country, he is received in a different manner, and with very differ- ent feeling. Once assured of his respectability, he is admitted freely into society, and I again assert that he will meet a benevolent interest in promoting his views, which a traveller may in vain look for in other countries. I should be wrong in saying, how- ever, that all this takes place without some scrutiny. Of whatever solecisms of deportment they are them- selves guilty, the Americans are admirable, and, perhaps, not very lenient, judges of manners in others. They are quite aware of high breeding when they see it, and draw conclusions with regard to the pretensions of their guests from a thousand small circumstances apparent only to very acute ob- servation. With them vulgar audacity will not pass for polished ease ; nor will fashionable exterior be received for more than it is worth. I know of no country in which an impostor would have a more difficult game to play in the prosecution of bis craft, and should consider him an accomplished deceiver, were he able to escape detection amid observation so vigilant and acute. 126 MANNERS OF THE HIGHER CLASSES. I i , ^ti f h,. 1-1;- '14 In admitting that the standard of manners in the United States is somewhat lower than in England, I wish to he understood as speaking exclusively of the higher circles in the latter country. I am not aware, that bating a few peculiarities, the manners of the first-rate merchants of New York, are at all inferior to those either of Liverpool or any other of our great commercial cities. I am certain that they are not inferior to any merchants in the world, in extent of practical information, in liberality of sen- timent, and generosity of character. Most of them have been in England, and from actual observation have formed notions of our national character and advantages, very different from the crude and ig- norant opinions, which, I must say, are entertained by the great body of their countrymen. Were it admissible to form general conclusions of the Ame- rican character, from that of the best circle in the greater Atlantic cities of the Union, the estimate would be high indeed. Unfortunately, however, the conclusions drawn from premises so narrow, would be sadly erroneous. The observations already made are applicable only MORALS OF THE TRADERS. 127 to a very small portion of the population, composed almost entirely of the first-rate merchants and law- yers. Beyond that, there is a sad change for the worse. Neither in the manners nor in the morals of the great body of traders, is there much to draw approbation from an impartial observer. Comparing them with the same classes in England, one cannot but bo struck with a certain resolute and obtrusive cupidity of gain, and a laxity of principle as to the means of acquiring it, which I should be sorry to believe formed any part of the character of my countrymen. I have heard conduct praised in con- versation at a public table, which in England would be attended, if not with a voyage to Botany Bay, at least with total loss of character. It is impossible to pass an hour in the bar of the hotel, without be- ing struck with the tone of callous selfishness which pervades the conversation, and the absence of all pretension to pure and lofty principle. The only restraint upon these men is the law, and he is evi- dently considered the most skilful in his vocation, who contrives to overreach his neighbour, without incurring its penalties. 128 MORALS OF THE TRADERS. ! 4 4 ■: "J ! ! ■! 1|' It may probably be urged, tbat in drawing these harsh conclusionR, I judge ignorantly, since, Iiaving no professional connexion with trade or traders, I ca*»not be supposed to know from experience any thing of the actual character of their commercial transactions. To this I reply, that my judgment has been formed on much higher grounds than the experience of any individual could possibly afford. If I am cheated in an affair of business, I can appeal but to a single case of fraud. I can only assert, that a circumstance has happened in America, which might have happened in any country of Europe. But when a man publicly confesses an act of fraud, or applauds it in another, two conclusions are fairly deducible. First, that the narrator is a person of little principle ; and, second, that he believes his audience to be no better than himself. Assuredly, no man will confess any thing, which he imagines may, by possibility, expose him to contempt ; and the legitimate deduction from such details extends not only to the narrator of the anecdote, but to the company who received it without sign of moral in- dignation. MORALS OF THE TIlADEnS. 129 It may be well, liowever, to explain, that the pre- ceding observations have not been founded exclu- sively on the population of New York. The com- pany in a hotel, is generally composed of persons from all States in the Union ; and it may be, that the standard of probity is somewhat higher in this opu- lent and commercial city, than in the poorer and more remote settlements. For the last three weeks I have been daily thrown into the company of about an hundred individuals, fortuitously collected. A considerable portion of these are daily changing, and it is perhaps not too much to assume that, as a whole, they afford a fair average specimen of their class. Without, therefore, wishing to lead the reader to any hasty or exaggerated conclusion, I must in candour state, that the result of my observations has been to lower considerably the high estimate I had formed of the moral character of the American people. Though I have unquestionably met in New York with many most intelligent and accomplished gentlemen, still I think the fact cannot be denied, that the average of acquirement resulting from edu- cation is a good deal lower in this country than in ■I 1' n'M 1 ■ ■■■^ || il;, "i :' 1' ' \4 'In '■' 1 ■if , '^ " %i i',ii m ■: 1 t tu ISO INTELLECTUAL PECULIARITIES the better circles of England. In all the knowledge which must be taught, and which requires laborious study for its attainment, I should say the Americans are considerably inferior to my countrymen. In that knowledge, on the other hand, which the individual acquires for himself by actual observation, which bears an immediate marketable value, and is directly available in the ordinary avocations of life, I do not imagine the Americans are excelled by any people in the world. They are consequently better fitted for analytic than synthetic reasoning. In the former process they are frequently successful. In the latter, their failure sometimes approaches to the ludicrous. Another result of this condition of intelligence is, that the tone even of the best conversation is pitched in a lower key than in England. The speakers evidently presume on an inferior degree of acquire- ment in their audience, and frequently deem it necessary to advance deliberate proof of matters, which in the old country would be taken for granted. There is certainly less of what may be called floating intellect in conversation. First principles are labori- ously established, and long trains of reasoning termi- II OF THE AMERICANS. 131 nate, not in paradox, but in commonplace. In short, Avhatever it is the obvious and immediate interest of Americans to know, is fully understood. Whatever is available rather in the general elevation of the in- tellect, than in the promotion of individual ambition, engrosses but a small share of the public attention. In the United States one is struck with the fact, that there exist certain doctrines and opinions which have descended like heirlooms from generation to gp' i '^ration, and seem to form the subject of a sort of national entail, most felicitously contrived to check the natural tendency to intellectual advancement in the inheritors. The sons succeed to these opinions of their father, precisely as they do to his silver sal- vers, or gold-headed cane ; and thus do certain dog- mas, political and religious, gradually acquire a sort of prescriptive authority, and continue to be handed down, unsubjected to the test of philosophical exami- nation. It is at least partially attributable to this cause^ that the Americans are given to deal somewhat too extensively in broad and sweeping aphorisms. The most diificult problems of legislation are here treated as matters on which it were an insult on the under- r I! m U „ai', "ili ' *. i I'll ■ it i (■■ I ■I Hililll fm i ■[: i;i M! |i' ;;l! III,.''-" 132 HEREDITARY OPINIONS. standing of a schoolboy, to suppose that he could entertain a doubt. Enquire their reasons for the inbred faith, of which they are the dark though vehe- ment apostles, and you get nothing but a few shallow truisms, which absolutely afford no footing for the conclusions they are brought forward to establish. The Americans seem to imagine themselves imbued with the power oi feeling truth, or, rather, of get- ting at it by intuition, for by no other process can I yet discover that they attempt its attainment. With the commoner and more vulgar truths, indeed, I should almost pronounce them too plentifully stock- ed, since in these, they seem to imagine, is contained the whole valuable essence of human knowledge. It is unquestionable, that this character of mind is most unfavourable to national advancement ; yet it is too prominent not to find a place among the features which distinguish the American intellect from that of any other people with whom it has been my for- tune to become acquainted. To-morrow it is my intention to proceed to Boston ; I shall leave the public establishments, &c. \\H\ INTENTION OF DEPARTURE. 138 of New York unvisited till my return ; being anxious, during the first period of my residence, to confine my attention to the more prominent and general fea- tures which distinguish this interesting community. 134 EMBARK FOR PROVIDENCE. CHAPTER VI. VOYAGE — PROVIDENCE — BOSTON. 1 !i n '■ f; ji: i ' III 'I hi At four o'clock, p. m. on the 8th of December, I embarked on board the steam-boat Chancellor Li- vingstone, and in a few minutes the vessel was un- der weigh. Her course lay up the East River, and along the channel which divides Long Island from the mainland. I had heard much of a certain dan- gerous strait, called Hell Gate, formed by the pro- jection of huge masses of rock, which obstruct the passage of the river, and diverting the natural course of the current, send its waters spinning round in formidable eddies and whirlpools. At high water — as it happened to be when we passed it — this said portal had no very frightful aspect. The stream was rapid, to be sure, but a double engine of ninety horse VOYAGE TO PROVIDENCE. 135 power was more than a match for it ; and the Chan- cellor, in spite of its terrors, held on his course rejoicing, with little apparent diminution of velo- city. Vessels, however, have heen wrecked here, and a canal is spoken of, by which its dangers may be avoided. The accommodations on board were such, as to leave the most querulous traveller no excuse for grumbling. The cabin, to be sure, with two huge red-hot stoves in it, was of a temperature which a salamander must have admired exceedingly, but the atmosphere, composed of the discarded breath of about an hundred passengers, still retained a sufficient portion of oxygen to support life. The hour of tea came, and all the appetite on board was mustered on I the occasion. The meal passed speedily as heart could desire ; but the mingled odour of fish, onions, and [grease, was somewhat more permanent. Whether it improved the atmosphere, or not, is a point which I could not settle to my own satisfaction at the time, [and must now, I fear, remain for ever undecided. It was impossible, in such circumstances, to think I of bed. The very thought of blankets was distress- 136 COMPANY ON BOARD. '■■'■ii,;|i'i ■i 11 ij ■ ii 1 i' ■ ii ^1 ill ,;:i'ii': '' ii liiii'i'^^- l:i::;iiit ing. I had no book ; and as for conversation, I could hear none in which I was at all qualified to bear a I part. I therefore ordered my writing-box, adjusted a new Bramah, and of the words that flowed from it, he that has read the preceding pages is already in possession. If I wrote in bad humour there was really some I excuse for it. Close to my right were two loud po- lemics, engaged in fierce dispute on the Tariff bill. On| my left was an elderly gentleman, without shoes or slippers, whose cough and expectoration were some- what less melodious than the music of the spheres.! In the berth, immediately behind, lay a passenger, whose loud snoring proclaimed him as happy as a complete oblivion of all worldly cares could make him. Right opposite was a gentleman without breeches, who, before jumping into bed, was detail* ing to a friend the particulars of a lucky hit he had I just made in a speculation in train oil. And beside me, at the table, sat a Baptist clergyman, reading, sotto voce, a chapter of Ezekiel, and casting, at the i conclusion of each verse, a glance of furtive curio- sity at my paper. ANNOYANCES. 137 It may be admitted, that such are not the items which go to the compounding of a paradise. But the enjoyment of travelling, like other pleasures, must be purchased at some little o-^pense; and he whose good-humour can be ruffled by every petty inconvenience he may chance to encounter, had unquestionably better remain at home. For my- self, I beg it therefore to be understood, that in detailing the petty and transient annoyances con- nected with my journey, I do so, not as matters by which my tranquillity was materially affected, but as delineations naturally belonging to a picture of society, and without which it would be incomplete. A tourist in the United States, will find no occasion for the ardour, the perseverance, or the iron consti- tution of a Lander ; and yet he will do well to re- member, that travellers, like players at bowls, must occasionally expect rubbers. But I have dwelt too much on the disagreeables of the voyage, without giving the per contra side of the account. There was a fair breeze and a smooth sea; and an Irish steward, who was particularly active in my behalf, and made my berth very com- ■■?f ) VOL. I. M 138 IRISH STEWARD. 'ill [,? If k W' lt!-v!| |:! 'r»i, K,!:|! ill m WH --I- r v ■ , ?■ '■ ii| ■" ll': iiui'i li;: fortable, by the fraudulent abbtraction of sundry pil- lows from those of my American neighbours. This he has done — he told my servant so — because I am from the old country ; and yet one would suppose, that on such a man the claim of mere national affi- nity could have little influence. I talked a good deal with him about his former circumstances, and soon collected, that what is called livinff in Ireland, is usually entitled starving in other countries. Though I'ather chary of confession, I gathered, too, that the world was not his friend, nor the world's laws, and that he came to the United States to avoid a gaol, and without a shilling in his pocket. The day on which he left Ireland should be marked in his annals with a white stone. He now enjoys a comfortable situation — confesses he can save money; eats and drinks well ; is encased in warm clothing ; is troubled very little with the tax-gatherer, and not at all with the tithe-proctor. And what is there in the counte- nance of an Englishman, that it should excite in such a man the feeling of benevolence and kindred ? In his memory, one would suppose, the past would be linked only with suffering, while the present is undoubtedly HIS ATTACHMENT TO HIS COUNTRY. 139 f sundry pil- >ours. This tecause I am uld suppose, national affi- I a good deal es, and soon 1 Ireland, is ies. Though too, that the I's laws, and void a gaol, The day on in his annals comfortable y; eats and ; is troubled t at all with the counte- Kcite in such Ired? In his lid be linked undoubtedly associated with the experience of a thousand com- forts, to which, in his days of vassalage and white- boyism, his imagination never ventured to soar. Yet, believe the man, and he regrets having left home ! He thinks he could have done as well in Ireland. He has no fault to find with America — ^it is a good country, enough for a poor man. Whisky is cheaper here, and so is bread and mate ; but then his ould mother, — and his sisters, — and Tim Regan, he would like to see them again ; and, please God, if he ever can afford it, he will return, and have his bones laid in the same churchyard with theirs. But if Pat ever get back to Ireland, I venture to prophesy that his stay will not be long there. At present, his former privations are more than half- forgotten ; but let him once again encounter them, and the difference between the country of his birth and that of his adoption, will become more apparent than argument could now make it. On the whole, it was pleasing to observe, that while time and dis- tance obliterate the misfortunes of life, their tend- ency is to strengthen its charities. On the following morning, about eleven o'clock. * i- ■t ii [4 '!•' 'is 3 jl \ ■ .-, .1 ^i ■J'.l |;M.;:^'!^ pf'f' il'.'^ ;i w HO ARRIVAL AT PROVIDENCE. we reached Providence, and found eight or ten stage- coaches waiting on the quay to convey the passen- gers to Boston. Though I carried letters of intro- duction to several gentlemen in Providence, it had not heen my intention to remain there, and I had accordingly, before landing, secured places in one of these vehicles. But in the hurry and bustle of scrambling for seats and coaches, and with the sight of eight large human beings already cooped up in that by which I must have travelled, I began to waver in my resolution, and at length resolved to sacrifice the money I had paid, and take the chances of better accommodation, and a more agreeable party, on the day following. Besides, the weather was raw and gusty, and I had been drenched from the knee downward in wading through the masses of half- melted snow, which covered the landing-place. The idea, therefore, of a comfortable Providence hotel, naturally found more favour in my imagination, than an eight hours* journey to Boston, in such weather, such company, and such conveyance as I could reasonably anticipate. On reaching the hostelry, however, its external ap- ., PROVIDENCE HOTEL. 141 pearancc was far from captivating. There was no sign- board, nor did the house display any external symbol of the hospitality within. Below was a range of shops, and the only approach was by a narrow stair, which might have passed for clean in Rome, but would have been considered dirty in England. On entering, I stood for some time in the passage, and though I enquired at several members of the esta- blishment, who brushed past me, whether I could have accommodation, no answer was vouchsafed. At length, advancing to the bar, I observed the land- lord, who was evidently too busily engaged in mix- ing brandy and water for a party of smokers, to have any attention to bestow on a stranger like myself. I, therefore, addressed a woman whom I observed to look towards me with something of cold enquiry in her expression, and again begged to know whether I could be accommodated for the night. The ques- tion was not more fortunate than its predecessors in drawing forth a response, nor was it till some minutes had elapsed, that, during a fortunate inter- mission of the demand for spirits, my enquiries were at length attended to, and satisfactorily answered. I t 142 APPEARANCE OF THE TOWN. 1 ,) j i-'' 1 ! 1 ■ .'i ' '• it ' < If ^1 , |:, ■'■?ili :;>.■* S Matters now went on more promisingly. I found that I could not only bo supplied, with every thing within the scope of reasonable expectation, but with a luxury I had not ventured to anticipate, — a private parlour, communicating with a very comfortable bed-room, and accompanied with the privilege of commanding my own hours. Having changed my dress, and given a few direc- tions about dinner, I sallied forth to view the city. Providence is the capital of the State of Rhode Island, and contains about 35,000 inhabitants. It stands at the foot and on the brow of a hill, which commands a complete view of the fine bay. Tlie great majority of the houses are built of wood, inter- spersed, however, with tenements of brick, and a few which are at least fronted with stone. It contains considerable cotton manufactories, which — boasting no knowledge of such matters — I was not tempted 1^0 visit. The college appears a building of some extent, and is finely situated on the summit of a neighbouring height. The roads were so obstructed by snow, as to render climbing the ascent a matter of more difficulty than I was in the humour to en- FIRST SETTLEMENT OF PROVIDENCE. 143 counter ; and so it was decreed, that Brown's College should remain by me unvisitcd. The first settlement of Providence is connected with a melancholy instance of human inconsistency* The Pilgrim Fathers, as thoy are called, had loft their country, to find in the wilds of the New Worlu that religious toleration which had been denied them in the Old. But no sooner had these victims of p' i 'I tlioiiglits wliicli 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 liigh destinies to which he is called. The situation is one which naturally stimulates the whole inert mass of his speculative benevolence. He is at peace with all mankind, for he reclines on a well-stuffed sofa, and there are wine and walnuts oi. the table. He is on the best terms with himself, and recalls his own achievements in arms, literature, or philoso- phy, 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 failures and misfortunes, are erased from the volume, and his memories are exclusively those of gratified power. He is in his slippers, and comfortable robe'de-chambre, and what to him, at such a moment, are the world and its ambitions? I appeal to the philosopher, and he answers — No- thing ! It was in such condition of enjoyment, physical and intellectual, that I was interrupted by the en- trance of my servant, to inform me that he had just I ! LS. the solitary, es with a full ire, and the he situation whole inert e is at peace well-stuifed n. the table, id recalls his or philoso* placency. If 3 bright and ts " written are erased B exclusively slippers, and t to him, at 3 ambitions? nswers — No- ent, physical d by the en- t he had just llENCONTRE WITH CAPTAIN BENNET. 149 met Captain Bennet on the stair, who, learning that I was at dinner, had obligingly expressed his inten- tion of favouring me with a visit at the conclusion of my meal. I immediately returned assurance, that nothing could afford me greater pleasure ; and in a few minutes I had the satisfaction of exchan- ging a friendly grasp with this kind and intelligent sailor. In the course of our t^le-d-t^tei he informed ne that he was travelling from his native town. New Bedford, to Boston, in company with Mrs Bennet, to whom he was good enough to offer me the privi- lege of an introduction. I accordingly accompanied the Captain to his apartment, where I passed a plea- sant evening, and retired, gratified by the intelli- gence that they were to proceed on the following morning 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 journey, to communicate many parti- culars with regard to his native province, which, though most useful in directing the opinions of a 150 AMERICAN STAGE-COACH. 11^ i traveller, could scarcely, perhaps, have fallen within the immediate sphere of his observations. On the following morning we were afoot betimes, and after a tolerable breakfast at a most unchristian hour, left Providence at seven o'clock, and I enjoyed- my first introduction to an American stage-coach. Though what an Englishman accustomed to the luxuries of *' light-post coaches," and Macadamised roads, might not unreasonably consider a wretched vehicle, the one in question was not so utterly abo- minable as to leave a Frenchman or an Italian any fair cause of complaint. It was of ponderous pro- portions, built with timbers, I should think about the size of those of an ordinary waggon, and was attach- ed by enormous straps to certain ma^isive irons, 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 inconve- nient, can be raised to admit a freer ventilation. In winter, however, the advantages of this contrivance are more than apocryphal. The wind penetrates through an hundred small crevices, and with the ■i:;i?l!i AMERICAN STAGE-COACH. 151 Eillcn within I. )ot betimes, unchristian id I enjoyed- utage-coach. med to the [acadamised a wretched utterly abo- Italian any derous pro- ik about the was attach- ssive irons, riage could i. The sides of leather, is inconve- tilation. In contrivance penetrates 1 with the thermometer below zero, this freedom of circulation is found not to add materially 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 perhaps not more so, than was rendered neces- sary by the barbarous condition of the road on which it travelled. The horses, though not hand- some, were strong, and apparently 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 sensation. If exhibited as a specimen of a fossil carriage, buried since the Deluge, and lately discovered by Professor 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 grave-digger. Never was WS''' ' Pi ^ i\ R. ■•' t :Vl U/ m 1 1' ' m: P •H,,. ; I' 1 ft .' 'Jk i v. gj»i 1 11 I - J .' 152 JOURNEY TO BOSTON. 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 to have set down at the time, as the very worst in the world, an opinion, which my subse- quent experience as a traveller in the United States, has long since induced 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 punishment 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 stuf- fing as the cushions below, occasioned a few changes of the four les, we were he road, I as the very my Bubse- nited States, It abounded ttle exercise to excellent en one talks d in a stage- lurney with J whole, not n truly say, endured in 1 continent, Iways enjoy occasion, to ty times at nst the roof 1 with stuf- ew changes PAWTUCKET. 153 in my phrenological developements. One of the passengers, however, — a grave valetudinarian — assured me, that such unpleasant exercise was an admirable cure for dyspepsy, and that when suffer- ing 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 to 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 va- ried 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 Pawtucket. It is one of the chief seats of the cotton manufacture in the United States. The aspect of the place was not unpleasing, and I count- ed about a dozen factories of considerable size. The houses of the workmen had a clean and comfortable appearance. I was informed, however, by my fellow- II ll lif ''H\ * ' \ » 154 s CONVERSATION IN THE COACH. m ■ Hi.'- 1 <: ' B •' '.I W' m ilr'' ■.<■': :;., 1: travellers, that, within the last eighteen months, every establishment in the place had become bank- rupt ; a proof, I should imagine, that the success of the Tariff system has not been very brilliant. During our journey there was a good deal of con- versation in the coach, in which, I was physically too uneasy to bear any considerable part. I was amused, liowever, at the astonishment of a young Connecti- cut farmer, when Captain Bennet informed him, that in England, the white birch-tree — which, in this part of the world, is regarded as a noxious weed — is protected in artificial plantations with great care. He was evidently incredulous, though he had before made no difficulty in believing the numerous absur- dities, in law, polity, and manners attributed, whe- ther with truth or otherwise, to my countrymen. But to plant the white birch-tree ! This, 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 sur- rounded by the busy hum of a great city. The first impressi Boston 1 tency of York, rapidly, within t it withii wealth ) pace. J new, an( even its i rend wh There ton; an* her strci York is yet frisl demure showing brisk, b coats, breeder fast as £ I I I. ARRIVAL AT BOSTON. 155 een months, ecome bank- lie Huccess of lliant. I deal of con- )liysically too was amused, ng Conneeti- formcd him, vhich, in this ous weed — is 1 great care. 18 had before erous absiir- buted, whe- countrymen. indeed, was lay through ed a height, . At length, If again sur- . The first impression was decidedly favourable. There is in Boston less of that rawness of outline, and inconsis- tency 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 probably one half of it within a third of the period. In Boston, both wealth and population 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 reve- rend which was originally rude. There is an air of gravity and solidity about Bos- ton ; and nothing gay or flashy, in the appearance of her streets, or the crowd who frequent them. New York is a young giantess, weighing twenty stone, and yet frisky withal. Boston, a matron of stayed and demure air, a little past her prime perhaps, yet showing no symptom of decay. The former is brisk, bustling, and annually outgrowing her petti- coats. 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 5lV f.v •: I 156 TREMONT HOTEL. ■'I : wt Wr 'i 1'* ;,: ■ "1 1 : i ■ 1 1. , . ' ■it IV :^ .?:!■ apophthegm) that similes seldom run on all fours, and therefore 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 estahlishment is on a large scale, and admirahly conducted. I had no difficulty in procu- ring a small hut 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 proportion of the American people live in a state of the most degrading bondage. No liberty of tongue can compensate for vassalage of stomach. In their own 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 breakfast- SLAVERY OF AMERICANS. 167 on all fours, not to push n the United inforts of the the Tremont ^c scale, and Ity in proeu- f apartments, tleman could e blessing of vn hours and leep, at what substances I free, a large in a state of •ty of tongue ;h. In their they please, vants would be barbarous d breakfast- ing at eleven. But on the road, and in their hotels, they are assuredly any thing but freemen. Their hours of rest and refection arc there dictated by Boniface, the most rigorous and iron-hearted of des- pots. 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 swal- low it without grumbling. His decrees are as those of fate, and the motto of his establishment is, " Sub- mit or starve." No man should travel in the United States with- out one of Baraud's best chronometers in his fob. In no other country can a slight miscalculation of time be productive of so much mischief. Woe to him whose steps have been delayed by pleasure or busi- ness, till the fatal hour has elapsed, and the dinner- cloth been removed. If he calculate on the emana- tion from the kitchen of smoking chop or spatchcock, he will be grievously deceived. Let him not look with contempt on half-coagulated soup, or fragments of cold fish, or the rhomboid of greasy pork, which ■ I r i! ■•' 1 §y K''\ p'/'-) 4li |a ;! 158 APPEARANCE OF BOSTON. has been reclaimed from the stock-barrel for his be- hoof. 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 despatch- ed 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 surrounded .!i;"" III i * 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 mysjlf and servant was eighteen dollars a-week. At Boston, with three excellent rooms, and the privilege of private meals, it amounted, including every thing except wine, to thirty-tive. At Philadelphia, I paid twenty-six dollars ; at Baltimore, twenty-eight ; at Washington, forty ; the extent of ac- commodation nearly equal in all. It is the invariable custom in the United States to charge by the day or week ; and travellers are thus obliged to pay for meals whe- ther 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. \il:i THE STATE-HOUSE. 159 •el for his be- t is set before he day. Such is free as air 1, 1 despatch- :ed out to see already said > say. Boston J surrounded Is in the greater The charge for ilege uf separate ome idea of the Ltes, I may state, Iroom, aud living nut was eighteen rooms, and the ery thing except y-six dollars ; at lie extent of ac- » charge by the for meals whe- e myself, rarely be higher than on '.^ree sides by the sea. The harbour is a magni- ficent basin, encircled by a b«t^autiful country, rising in gentle acclivities, and studded with villas. There is nothing very handsome about the town, which is I rather English in appearance, and might in truth be easily mistaken for one of our more populous sea- ports. A considerable number of the buildings are of granite, or, more properly speaking, of sienite, but brick is the prevailing material, and houses of framework are now rarely to be met with in the streets 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 rus- ticated arches, suvmounted by a gratuitous range of Corinthian columns, which support nothing. 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 Tremont hotel, and a church in the same 160 king's chapel. Mf 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 they are far from concealing; and, to increase 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, be- queathing, by his last testament, a considerable sum, to be expended 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 England, of course no doubt could be entertained of his intention in the bequest ; but the revolution took place, and, at the restoration of peace, the congregation of the King's Chapel were found to have cast off both king and creed, and be- come not only Republicans in politics, but Unita- 6 ARCHITECTURE. 161 818 as worthy sposal. The ly garnished, nic columns, are far from rmity, above er, intended, e of worship, rmerly called congregation ^ngland. In lan died, be- derable sum, of a certain rinity." The )mmunion of ubt could be lest ; but the jstoration of Chapel were eed, and be- , but Unita- rians in religion. Under these circumstances, what was to be done with the legacy ? This did not long remain a moot point. It was discovered that i»n Unitarian could preach 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 diffusion of pure faith, has been to en- courage the dissemination of doctrines, which of course he regarded as false and damnable ! The old gentleman had better have left his money to his re- lations. I have been too vv i; satisfied with the good living of the Tremont 1 jtel. .lot to feel grieved to be com- pelled 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 proudest achievements of American genius. The edifice is of fine sienite, and I imagine few parts of the world can supply a more beautiful material for building. In front is a Doric portico of four columns, accurately proportioned, but, as usual, without pediment. Tliese have not sufficient projection, and seem as if thev ft VOL. I. O 162 LETTERS OF INTRODUrTION". ;V liad been thrust back upon the walls of the buildiiig by tlie force of some gigantic steam-engine. The (lining-hall, which is here the chief object of admi- ration, is defective, both in point of taste and pro- portion. 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 Antai of the Composite order ; thus defacing, by the intermixture of a late Roman barbarism, the j)urer 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 ])lentiful harvest of visits and invitations. I dis- cerned, or thought I discerned, some difference of manner between the gentlemen of Boston and those of New York. For the first five minutes, perhaps, the former seemed less pleasing, but my opinion in this respect soon changed, and I certainly now class many of my Boston friends, not only among the most liberal and enlightened, but among the most agreeable men, I had the good fortune to encounter in my tour. My first visit was to a club, not professedly lite- ir 1 i'i DIVINE SERVICE. 163 e builditig ine. The t of admi- ; and pro- 8 too low ; ich extend e mingled 5 defacing, >arism, the e waste of Icrs. icd into a s. I dis- fference of and those ?, perhaps, opinion in now class among the the most encounter ssedly lite- rary, but which numbered among its members many of the most eminent individuals of the State. No- thing could exceed the kindness of my reception. Several gentlemen, on learning my objects in visiting their city, obligingly professed their readiness to pro- mote them by every means in their power, and I soon found that hospitality to strangers was by no means an exclusive attribute of New York. The day following being Sunday> I attended morn- ing service in one of the Episcopal churches. It was performed with great propriety to a congrega- tion generally composed of the better orders. In the evening I accompanied an amiable family to a church, of which the celebrated Dr Channing is tlie pastor. The Doctor, I learned, was then at Havannah, where he had accompanied Mrs Channing, whose health required a milder winter climate than that of New England. Thf? tenets of the congregation are Un?tari..'i, and the service is that of the Church of England, with the omission of a^l expressions which attribute divinity to our Saviour. Yet this, if Bflt asserted, is not denied. It seems to have been the object to establish a service in which all 164 UNITARIANISM. sects and classes of Christians may conscientiously join, and which affirms nothing in regard to those points which afford matter of controversy to Theolo- gians. Though the intentions of the framers of this ser- vice were obviously good, I am not sure that they have been guided by very just or philosophical views of the infirmities of human nature. The great bene- fit to be derived from public worship, is connected with the feeling of fellowship with those by whom we are surrounded, antl that diffusive sentiment of charity and brotherhood, arising from community of faith. In the presence of God it is indeed proper that all minor differences should be forgotten ; but when these differences extend beyond a certain limit, f»nd embrace the more sucred points of belief, I can understand no benefit which can arise from the com- mon adoption of a liturgy so mutilated, as to exclude all expression of that faith and those doctrinr":: which Christians in general regard as the very keystone of their hope. The value of prayer, perhaps, consists less in any influence it can be supposed to have on the decrees of an eternal and immutable Being, than hi UNITARIAN SERVICE, 165 jientiously d to those to Theolo- f this ser- that they lical views reat bene- connected by whom ntiment of imuiiity of icd proper )tten ; but tain limit, tlief, I can n the com- to exclude n*^":; which :eystone of s, consists ;o have on | ieing, than in that which it exercises over the heart and feelings of the worshipper. To exert this influence, it must be felt to be appropriate to our individual wants and necessities. It must not deal in vague generalities, nor petition only for those blessings in which the great body of mankind possess an equal interest. Like material objects, the human feelings become uniform- ly weakened by extension. We cannot pray for the whole of our species with the same earnestness that we petition for the prosperity of our country, antl our supplications in behalf of our family are yet more ardent. There is a gradation of fervour for each link of the chain as it approaches nearer to our- selves, and it is only, perhaps, in imploring mercy for some one individual, that our feelings reach their climax of intensity. I have no faith in the efficacy of a system of devotion founded on the ab- stract principles of philosophy. The religious wor- ship of mankind must be accommodated to their infirmities. The prayer which is adapted to all sects can evidently express the faith or sentiments of none. The liturgy was plainly, but effectively, read by the Rev. Mr Greenwood, whom I had the pleasure 166 CAUSES OF THE PREVALENCE of ranking among my acquaintance. The sermon was elegant, but somewliat cold and unemphatic. Indeed, how could it be otherwise ? An Unitarian is necessarily cut oflF from all appeals to those deeper sources of feeling, which, in wliat is called Evange- lical preaching, are found to produce such powerful effects. Mo spirit was ever strongly moved by a discourse on the innate beauty of virtue, or argu- ments in favour of moral purity drawn from the har- mony 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 't asserted that men should wear spectacles because bears cat horse-flesh, and ostriches lay eggs in the sandr But, admitting the conclusion to be clear as the daylight, the disease of human depravity is too strong to be overcome bvthe administration of such gentle alter- atives. Recourse must be had to stronger medi- cines, and these, unfortunately, the chest of the Unitarian does not furnisli. Boston is the metropolis of Unitarianism. In no ;i'? OF UNITARIANISM IN BOSTON. 16T 10 sermon icmpliatic. nitarian is ose deeper d Evange- li powerful oved by a I, or argu- m the har- rence that )ni and the 3ory {18 the 1 practice, 't asserted bears cat and. But, e daylight, ong to be ntle a]ter- ger medi- est of the m. In no other city has it taken root so deeply, or spread its brandies so widely. Fully half of the population, and more than half of the wealth and intelligence of Boston, arc found in this communion. I was at one time puzzled to account for this ; but my journey to New England has removed the difficulty. The New Englanders are a cold, shrewd, calculating, and in- genious people, of phlegmatic temperament, and per- haps 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. No- where is undeviating compliance with public opi- nion so unsparingly 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 noble, and he will look on you with a vacant countenance. But tell him of what is just, proper, and essential to his own well-being 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 im H* t l.n i 168 ITS ADAPTATION TO THE CHARACTER m creed makes fewer demands on the faith or the ima- gination, than that of any other Christian sect. It appeals to human reason in every step of its pro- gress, and while it narrows the compass of miracle, enlarges that of demonstration. Its followers have less bigotry than other religionists, because they have less enthusiasm. They refuse credence to the doctrine of one grand and universal atonement, and appeal to none of tliose sudden and preternatural impulses which have given assurance to the pious of other sects. An Unitarian will take nothing for granted but the absolute and plenary efficacy of his own re{|son in matters of religion. He is not a fana- tic, but a dogmatist ; one who will admit of no dis- tinction between the incomprehensible and the false. With such views of the Bostonians and their pre- vailing religion, I cannot help believing, that there exists a curious felicity of adaptation in both. The prosperity of Unitarianism in the New England States, seems a circumstance, which a philosophical observer of national character, might, with no great difficulty, have predicted. Jonathan chose his reli- gion, as one does a hat, because it fitted him. Wc £11 r the i ma- ll sect. It of its pro- jf miracle, )\ver8 have jause they 3nce to the Bment, and cter natural he piou8 of lothing for cacy of his not a fana- of no dis- ci the false. I their pre- that there )otli. The '• England ilosopliical ill no great se his reli- him. Wo OF THE NEW ENGLANDERS. 169 helievc, however, that his head has not yet attained its full size, and confidently anticipate that its speedy enlargement will erelong induce him to adopt a bet- ter 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 advantage of being accom- panied by Professor Ticknor, who obligingly con- ducted me over every part of the establishment. The buildings, though not extensive, are commo- dious ; and the library — the largest in the United States — contains about 30,000 volumes; no very imposing aggregate. The academical course is com- pleted 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 intervals between which amount to about three months. The number of students is somewhat under two hundred and fifty. These have the option of either living more academico in the VOL. I. p IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) 1.0 I.I U&^ |2.5 ^ ^ 12-2 iM 12.0 lit 11:25 i 1.4 I m 1.6 Photographic ^Sciences Corporation v ■17 \\ ^v 23 WIST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716)87^-4503 'o"-'^J^ m^ day. In regard to the system of discipline enforced in this interesting establishment, it may be better de- scribed 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 EMPLOYMENT OF THE PRISONERS. 175 ree sides of esents only * stairs, or d galleries, ich a com- d. '. They are '> and con- B consider- in alarum- »duty. In e building i comma. >■ passage, ily travel Adjoining I prayers breed in Jtter de- Jlowing Boston cing up at night till daylight, all the convicts, except an ave- rage 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 preserve entire silence among three hundred. The space around the cells be- ing 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 hear a whis- per from the most distant cell. He can, therefore, keep silence from the time of locking up at night to the time of unlocking in the morning, which, at some seasons 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, with 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 officers as of the convicts. If an officer have occasion to leave his place, the system I*. Cf: r 176 HOURS OF LABOUR. Hi 111 mk\ \^ \ requires that a substitute be called ; if a convict 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 man, and every man in his place. There is, however, a class of 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 seen moving about the yard promiscuously, 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 sea- son to nearly two hours, from the time of unlocking in the morning till breakfast. When the hour for PRISON REGULATIONS. 177 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 I and at the end of about twelve minutes, from the time of ringing the bell for breakfast, all the convicts are in their cells eating 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 instant the whole body of convicts c v 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 assign- ed for dinner is filled up in the same manner as the i! ( ( 178 PRISON REGULATIONS. time assigned for breakfast ; and the time for labour in the afternoon in the same manner as the time for labour in tlie morning ; and when the time for even- ing prayers has come, at the ringing of the bell, all the convicts, and all the officers not on duty else- where, are seen marching to the chapel, where the chaplain closes the day with reading the Scriptures and prayer. After which the convicts march with perfect silence and order to their cells, taking their supper as they pass along. In about five-and-twenty minutes from the time of leaving their labour, the convicts have attended prayers in the chapel, taken their supper, marched to their cells with their supper in their hands, and are safely locked up for the night. This is the history 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 dis- pensing with the hours of labour, and substituting the hours for instruction in the Sabbath- School, and the hours for public worship." We had hardly time to examine the arrangement of the cells when the dinner-bell sounded, and is- suing out into the quadrangle, the whole prisoners ;i|! WORKSHOPS OF THE PRISONERS. 179 le for labour the time for me for even- ' the bell, all n duty else- , where the e Scriptures march with taking their and- twenty labour, the apel, taken heir supper r the night. I ; and the '» with the th, by dis- ibstituting 5hool, and mgement If and 18- prisoners marched past in imposing military array. In pass- ing 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 were in their " deep solitudes and aw- ful cells," and employed in the most agreeable duty of their day — dinner. I again entered the building, 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 they were now differently employed. The gaoler next conducted us through the work- shops. 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 companions in misfortune, and the whole establishment had the air rather of a well- conducted manufactory than of a prison. There was nothing of deep gloom, but a good deal of cal- lous indifference generally observable in the counte- I I !i r 11! \ iil i ii 180 INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD CUT OFP. nances of tho convicts. In some, however, I thought I did detect evidence of overwhelming depression. Yet tliis might be imagination, and when I pointed out the individuals to the gaoler, he assured me I was mistaken. Tho prisoners are allowed to hold no intercourse of any kind, with the world beyond the walls which enclose them. It is a principle invariably adhered to, that they shall be made to feel, that during their con- finement — and many are confined for life — they are beings cut off even from the commonest sympathies 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 these depraved and guilty beings, and to send them forth with every tie broken which might have acted 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 consi- dered little better than a gratuitous barbarity. But ii POLICY OF SUCH TREATMENT. 181 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 aflfcetions, that it crushes with an oppres- sion truly withering. And can no penalty be dis- covered 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 ? Why 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 belongs to the state. No portion of it is allowed to the prisoner on his discharge. This regulation may be judicious in America, where the demand for la- bour is so great, that every man may, at any time, command employment; but in Great Britain 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 punishment, I m ill III - 1 182 ARBITRARY POWER OF THE GAOLER. almost arbitrary, being vested in the gaoler. The slightest infraction of the prison rules, therefore, is uniformly followed by severe infliction. There is no pardon, and no impunity 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 total irresponsibility on the part of the gaoler. There is no one to whom the convict, if unjustly punished, can complain, and a power is in- trusted 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 complaints that may be made against the gaoler. There is no doubt that this unpopular func- tionary would be subject to many false and frivo- lous accusations. The latter, however, may always be dismissed without trouble of any sort, but all plausible charges should receive rigid and impartial examination. The circumstances connected with the Charleston prison are precisely the most favour- IMPROVEMENTS SUGGESTED. 183 able for t!ie attainment of truth. There can be no concert among the witnesses to be examined, no system of false evidence got up, no plotting, no collusion. Here coincidence of testimony could be explained only on the hypothesis of its truth ; and this circumstance must be quite as favourable to the gaoler as to the prisoners. The former could never want the means of vindication, if falsely impeached. I had a good deal of conversation with the gaoler 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 offenders was rarely to be expected, but main- tained that the benefit of the Charleston system, even in this respect, was fully greater than had been found to result from any other plan adopted in the United States. His experience had not led him to anticipate much beneficial consequence from the system of solitary confinement. He had seen it often tried, but the prisoners on their liberation had almost uniformly relapsed into their former habits of crime. One interesting anecdote which occurred under his own observation, I shall here record. ft 4l II I ill I 184 ANECDOTE OF A PRISONER. Many years ago, long before the establisliment of the present prison system, a man of respectable con- nexions, but of the most abandoned habits, was con- victed of burglary, and arrived at Charleston jail, under sentence of imprisonment for life. His spirit was neither humbled by the punishment nor the disgrace. His conduct towards the keepers was violent and insubordinate, and it was soon found necessary, for the maintenance of discipline, that he should be separated from his fellow-prisoners, and placed in solitary confinement. For the first year he was sullen and silent, and the clergyman who fre- quently visited him in his cell, found his mind imper- vious to all religious impression. But by degrees a change took place in his deportment. His manner became mild and subdued ; he was often found read- ing the Scriptures, and both gaoler and chaplain congratulated themselves on the change of character so manifest in the prisoner. He spoke of his past life, and the fearful offences in which it had abound- ed, with suitable contrition, and expressed his grati- tude to God, that, instead of being snatched away in the midst of his crimes, time had been afforded him ANECDOTfi OF A I^RISON^H. 185 for repentance, and the attainment of faith in that grand and prevailing atonement, by the efficacy of which even the greatest of sinners might look for pardon. Nothing in short could be more edifying than this man's conduct and conversation. All who saw him became interested in the fate of so meek a Christian, and numerous applications were made to the Gover- nor of the State for his pardon. The Governor, with such weight of testimony before him, naturally in- clined to mercy, and in a few weeks the man would have been undoubtedly liberated, when one day, in the middle of a religious conversation, he sprang upon the keeper, stabbed him in several places, and having cut his throat, attempted to escape. The attempt failed. The neophyte in morality was brought back to his cell, and loaded with heavy irons. In this condition he remained many years, of course without the slightest hope of liberation. At length, his brother-in-law, a man of influence and fortune in South Carolina, made application to the authorities of Massachusetts on his behalf. He VOL. I. jj I 186 ANECDOTE OF A PRISONER. 1 i ill I m ■ 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 goaler, who told me the anecdote, was directed to see him safely on board of a Charles- ton packet, in which due 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, habits, thoughts, prejudices, and opinions of the generation then living, were different from all to which he had been accus- tomed. Nor was the aspect of external objects less altered. Streets of framework cottages had been replaced by handsome squares, and stately edifices of brick. Gay equipages, such as he never remembered, met his observation at every turn. In short, he felt ANECDOTE OF A PRISONER. 187 like the inhabitant of another planet, suddenly cast into a world of which he knew nothing. My informant — I wish I could give the story in his own words — described well and feelingly the progress of the man's impressions. A coach had been provided for his conveyance to the packet. On first entering it he displayed no external symptom of emotion ; but as the carriage drove on, he gazed from the window, endeavouring to recognise the fea* tures of the scenery. But in vain ; he looked for marsh and forest, and he beheld streets ; he expect- ed to cross a poor ferry, and the carriage rolled over a magnificent bridge ; he looked for men as he had left them, and he saw beings of aspect altogether different. Where were the great men of the State- house and the Exchange — the aristocracy of the dol- lar bags — the Cincinnati of the Revolution, 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- i'llii ilii nil I! i • i i!,. ! ! I 188 ANECDOTE OF A PRISONER. buckles, hair-powder, and cocked hats, had fled to some other and more dignified world. The days of dram-drinking and tobacco-chewing, of gaiters, trow- sers, and short crops, had succeeded. The latter circumstances, indeed, might not have occasioned the poor relieved convict any great concern, but the whole scene was too much for him to bear unmoved. His spirit was weighed down by a feeling of intense solitude, and he burst into tears. The remainder of the story may be told in a few words. He reached Charleston, where his brother placed him in a respectable boarding-house, and supplied him with necessaries of every kind. His conduct for the first year was all that could be de- sired. But at length in an evil hour he was induced to visit New York. He there associated with pro- fligate companions, and relapsing into his former habits, was concerned in a burglary, for which he was tried and convicted. He is now in the prison at Sing- Sing, under sentence of imprisonment for life, and from death only can he hope for liberation. The gaoler told me this anecdote, as a proof how little amendment of the moral character is to be ex- OBSERVATIONS ON PRISON DISCIPLINE. 18d pectedfrom solitary confinement. The case undoubt-* edly is a strong one, yet, of all the systems of punish" ment hitherto devised, the entire isolation of the cri- minal from his fellow-men, — if judicious advantage be taken of the opportunities it affords, and the state of mind which it can scarcely fail to produce, — seems that which is most likely to be attended with permanent reformation. The great objection to the Auburn and Charleston system, is, that the prison- ers are treated like brutes, and any lurking sense of moral dignity is destroyed. Each individual is not only degraded in his own eyes, but iu those of his companions; and it appears impossible that a cri- minal, once subjected to such treatment, should ever after be qualified to discharge, with advantage to his country, the duties of a citizen. Solitary confine- ment, on the other hand, has necessarily no such consequence; it at once obviates all occasion for corporal punishment, and for the exercise of arbi- trary and irresponsible power on the part of the gaoler. The prisoner, on his liberation, is restored to society, humbled, indeed, by long suffering, yet J'l'. 190 OBSERVATIONS ON PRISON DISCIPLINE. 1 f li'lpi i\ I i ML, m iil!^' not utterly degraded below the level of his fellow- creatures. On the whole, the system of discipline I have wit- nessed at Charleston must be considered as a curious experiment, illustrating the precise degree of coer- cion necessary to destroy the whole influence of hu- man volition, and reduce man to the condition of a machine. How far it accomplishes the higher objects contemplated in the philosophy of punishment, is a question which demands more consideration than I have at present time or inclination to bestow on it. I anticipate, however, having occasion to return to the subject, in narrating my visit to the Penitentiary at Philadelphia. m THE TARIFF QUESTION. 191 ,-hf\. CHAPTER VII. BOSTON. The New England States are the great seat of manufactures in the Union ; and in Boston especially) it is impossible to mix at all in society without hear- ing discussions on the policy of the Tariff Bill. I was prepared to encounter a good deal of bigotry on this subject, but on the whole found less than I ex- pected. Of course, here, as elsewhere, men will argue strenuously and earnestly on the policy of a mea- sure, with which they know their own interests to be inseparably connected; but both the advocates and opponents of the Tariff are to be found mingled very sociably at good men's feasts, and I have not been able to discover that antagonism of opinion has been in any degree productive of hostility of feeling. 19^ THE TARIFF QUESTION. II I I I i I i On this question, as on many others, the weight of numbers is on one side, and that of sound argu- ment on the other. It is the observation, I think, of Hobbcs, that were it to become the interest of any portion of the human race to deny the truth of a proposition in Euclid, by no power of demonstration could it ever after command universal assent. This may be going too far, but we know how difficult it is, in the less certain sciences, to influence the under- standing of those in favour of a conclusion, whose real or imagined interests must be injuriously afi^ect- ed by its establieihment. Truths cease to be palpable when they touch a man's prejudices or his pocket, and patriotism is generally found at a premium or a discount, precisely as it happens to be connected with profit or loss. It was not to be expected, therefore, that a ques- tion affecting the various and conflicting interests of different classes of men should be discussed in a very calm or philosophical spirit. <* The American sys- tem," as it is called, was strenuously supported by the rich northern merchants, who expected to And in manufactures a new and profitable investment for mm % I OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 193 their capital ; and by the farmers, who expected to realise better prices for their wool and corn than could be commanded in the English market. It was opposed with at least equal vehemence by the plant* ers of the Southern States, who regarded England as their best customer, and who must have been the chief sufferers had these measures of restriction been met by retaliation. Of course, as no manufactures of any kind exist south of the Potomac, the inha- bitants of that extensive region were by no means satisfied of the justice of a policy, which, by increa- sing the price of all foreign commodities, had the effect of transferring money from their pockets to those of the New England monopolists. The Tariff Bill encountered strong opposition in both houses of the Legislature, but the representatives of the West- ern States having declared in its favour, it eventually passed, though by narrow majorities, and became law. The passing of this bill inflicted a deep wound on the stability of the Union. The seeds of dissen- sion among the different States had long been dif- VOL. I. » 194 OBSEnVATFONS ON THE TABIPP. m '■';■',!! 1 ami MBm 1 fused, and now began to exhibit signs of rapid and luxuriant growth. The inhabitants of the South- ern States were almost unanimous against the law. Their representatives not only protested loudly against its injustice^ but declared, that in imposing duties, not for the sake of revenue but protection, Congress had wantonly exceeded its powers, and violated one of the fundamental principles of the constitution. Thus arose the celebrated doctrine of nullification, or, in other words, the assertion of an independent power in each State of the Union, to decide for itself on the justice of the measures of the Federal government, and to declare null, within its own limits, any act of the Federal Congress which it may consider as an infraction of its separate rights. To this great controversy, affecting in its very principle the cohesion of the different states, I shall not at present do more than allude. It does, how- ever, appear abundantly clear, that if there ever was a country in which it is injudicious to trammel industry with artificial restrictions, that country is tlie United States. Covering a vast extent of fertile territory, and advancing in wealth and population ODHEFIVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 105 with a rapidity altogetliof iinparallolcd, it seeing only necessary to the happiness and pru§perity of this favoured people, that they should refrain from coun- teracting the beneficence of nature, and tranquilly enjoy the many blessings which she has placed within their reach. But this, unfortunately, is precisely what American legislators are not inclined to do. They seem determined to have a prosperity of their own making; to set up rival Birminghams and Manchesters ; and in spite of <* nature and their stars," to become, without delay, a great manufac- turing, as well as a great agricultural nation. But such things as Birmingham and Manchester are not to be created by an act of Congi'ess. They can arise only under a vast combination of favour- able circumstances, the approach of which may be retarded, but cannot possibly be accelerated, by a system of restrictions. They would undoubtedly have arisen far sooner in England, but for the igno- rant adoption of the very policy which the Americans have now thought it expedient to imitate. But there is this excuse at least for our ancestors : The policy they adopted was in the spirit of their age. They il 4 196 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 1' I [ t 111 ' I! 1 1 -' J ;i *, s [l I 1 I tM I ¥, "I 1,11 did not seek to revive the exploded dogmas of a country or a |>eriod less enlightened than their own ; and it can only be charged against them, that in seeking to gain a certain object, with but few and scattered lights to guide their footsteps, they went astray. But to such palliation the conduct of the Ame- rican legislators has no claim. With the path before them clear as daylight, they have preferred entangling themselves in thickets and quagmires. Like chil- dren, they have closed their eyes, and been content to believe that all is darkness. Living in one age, they have legislated in the spirit of another, and their blunders want even the merit of originality. They have exchanged their own comfortable clothing for the cast-off garments of other men, and strangely appeal to their antiquity as evidence of their value. The appeal to English precedent may have some weight as an argumentum ad homlnem, but as an argit' mentum veritatis it can have none. We cheerfully admit, that there is no absurdity so monstrous, as to want a parallel in the British statute-book. We only hope that we are outgrowing our errors, and profit-.- OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFf. 197 ing, however tardily, by our own experience and that of the world, But even this praise the advo- cates of Anie;lcan monopoly are not inclined to allow us. They charge us with bad faith in our com- mercial reforms ; with arguing on one side, and act- ing on the other; and allege, that our statesmen, with the words^ree trade constantly on their lips, are still guided in their measures, by the spirit of that antiquated policy, which they so loudly condemn. Enough of allowance, however, has not been made for the difficulties of their situation. Our legisla- tors, it should be remembered, had to deal with vast interests, which had grown up under the exclusive system so long and rigidly adhered to. Any great and sudden change in our commercial policy would have been ruinous and unjust. It was necessary that the transition should be gradual, even to a healthier regimen ; that men's opinions should be conciliated, and that time should be afforded for the adjustment of vested interests to the new circumstances of com- petition which awaited them. The question was far less as to the truth or soundness of certain abstract doctrines of political economy, than by what means 198 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. '4 ! r j: ' I li : ^'irv h^ 1 ;n changes affecting the disposition of the whole capital of the country, could be introduced with least injury and alarm. Those only who have minutely followed the pub- lic life of Mr Huskisson during the last ten years, can duly estimate the magnitude of the obstacles with which at every step of his progress he had to contend. In truth, we know not any portion of history which would better repay the study of Ame- rican statesmen. They will there acquire some knowledge of the difficulties, which assuredly, sooner or later, they will be compelled to encounter. They will learn, that a system of prohibition cannot be abandoned with the same ease with which it was ori- ginally a^isumed. Their first advance in the course on which they have entered may be prosperous, but their retreat must necessarily be disastrous. They will have to endure the reproaches of the bank- rupt manufacturers. They will have the punishment of beholding a large proportion of the capital of their country irrecoverably lost. They will be assailed by the clamour and opposition of men of ruined for- tunes and disappointed hopes, and while they OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 199 lament the diminution of their country's prosperity, even their self-love will scarcely secure them from the conviction of its being attributable solely to their own selfish and ignorant policy. In no country in the world, perhaps, could the prohibitory system be tried with less prospect of success than in the United States. The vast extent of territory alone presents an insuperable obstacle to. its enforcement. The statesmen of England had no such difficulty to struggle with. They had to legis- late for a small, compact, and insular country, in which there existed no such diversity of climate or of interest as to create much inequality of pressure in any scheme, however unreasonable, of indirect taxation. In England, there are no provincial jea- lousies to be reconciled, no rivalries or antipathies between different portions of the kingdom, and the facilities of communication are already so great as to give promise that the yvot^ distance will be speedily erased from our vocabulary. But in America all this is different. Those err egregiously who regard the population of the United States as an uniform whole, composed throughout ijijii iiiii 200 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. I I IS' " ,1' I'l: of similar materials, and whose patriotic attachment embraces the whole territory between the Missis- sippi and the Penobscot. An American is not a being of strong local attachments, and the slightest temptation of profit is always strong enough to in- duce him to quit his native State, and break all the ties which are found to operate so powerfully on other men. Entire disparity of circumstances and situation between the Northern and Southern States have, besides, produced considerable alienation of feeling in their inhabitants ; and disputes, arising from differences of soil and climate, are evidently beyond the control of legislative interference. The Georgian or Carolinian, therefore, lives in a state of the most profound indifference with regard to the prosperity of New England, or rather, perhaps, is positively jealous of any increase of wealth or popu- lation, by which that portion of the Union may ac- quire additional influence in the national councils. To the people of the Southern States, therefore, any indirect taxation, imposed for the benefit of the Northern, must be doubly odious. The former wish only to buy where they can buy cheapest, and to sell .1 :illl ill; \ OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 201 3 attachment the Missis- >an is not a the slightest [lough to in- break all the werfully on stances and thern States lienation of ites, arising 'e evidently •ence. The n a state of ^ard to the perhaps, is th or popu-' ion may ac- al councils, therefore, nefit of the brmer wish , and to sell where they can find the hest market for their pro- duce. Besides, they are violent and high-spirited, strong republicans, and averse from any unnecessary exercise of power on the part of the Federal govern- ment. England is their great customer, and the planter can entertain no reasonable hope of opulence which is not founded on her prosperity. Such are the discordant materials with which Congress has to deal, and which visionary legislators have vainly attempted to unite in cordial support of " the Ame- rican system." It is obvious, that a legislature which enters on a system of protection-duties, assumes the exercise of a power with which no wise men would wish to be intrusted, and which it is quite impossible they can exercise with advantage. They, in fact, assume the direction of the whole industry and ca- pital of the country; dictate in what channels they shall flow ; arbitrarily enrich one class at the expense of another ; tax the many for the benefit of the few, and, in short, enter on a policy, which, if followed by other countries, would necessarily put a stop to all commerce, and throw each nation on its indivi- h h it ft' n hi ^ m r jilt " I'* iti m I ill II > m m M VI liliti 202 OBSEnVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. dual resources. There can be no reductio ad ahsur- dum more complete. The commercial intercourse of nations would he annihilated were there a dozen governments in the world actuated by a cupidity so blind and uncalculating. It is, besides, impossible that any system of protection can add any thing to the productive industry of a people. The utmost it can effect is the transference of labour and capital from one branch of employment to another. It simply holds out a bribe to individuals to divert their in- dustry from the occupations naturally most profit- able, to others which are less so. Tliis cannot be done without national loss. The encouragement which is felt in one quarter, must be accompanied by at least equal depression in another. The whole commercial system is made to rest on an insecure and artificial foundation, and the capital of the coun- try, which has been influenced in its distribution, by a temporary and contingent impulse, may, at any moment, be paralysed by a change of system. It is impossible, therefore, as matters now stand in America, that the maiiufaciuring capitalists can look with any feeling of security to tho future. They OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 203 know, that the sword which is suspended over them hangs only by a hair, and may fall at any time. A large portion of the Union are resolutely, and almost unanimously, opposed to the continuance of the sys- tem. The monopolists, therefore, can ground their speculations on no hope but that of large and imme' diate profits, and the expectation, that should the present Tariff continue in force but a few years, they will, in that period, not only have realized the ori- ginal amount of their investments, but a return suf- ficiently large to compensate for all the hazards of the undertaking. It is from the pockets of their fel- low-subjects that they look for this enormous reim- bursement ; and, in a general point of view, perhaps, it matters little how much of the wealth of Virginia and the Carolinas may be transferred to New Eng- land, since the aggregate of national opulence would continue unchanged. One great and unmitigated evil of the Tariff- tax, however, consists in this, that while it is unjust and oppressive in its operation, it destroys far more capital than it sends into the cof- fers either of the Government or of individuals. All that portion of increased price which proceeds from iS 204 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARlFFi ) .-f ;,i ),f m i? li. 'M\i: If "' !!!'!! ; m m [i^:^ ' BMU increased difficulty of production in any article, is precisely so much of the national capital annihilated without henefit of any sort. But, in truth, the exclusion of British goods from the Union is impossible. The extent of the Cana- dian frontier is so great, that the vigilance of a mil- lion of custom-house officers could not prevent their introduction. A temptation high in exact proportion to the amount of the restrictive duty, is held out to every trader; or in other words, the government which enforces the impost, offers a premium for its evasion. If Jonathan, — which we much doubt, — is too honest to smuggle, John Canadian is not; and the consequence simply is, that the United States are supplied with those goods from Montreal, which, under other circumstances, would have been directly imported. I remember walking through some ware- houses in New York with an eminent merchant of that city ; and on remarking the vast profusion of British manufactures everywhere apparent, he sig- nificantly answered, " Depend upon it, you have seen many more goods to-day than ever passed the Hook." In this matter, therefore, there exists no OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 205 discrepancy between reason and experience. The trade between tlie countries still goes on with little, if any diminution. It has only been diverted from its natural and wholesome channel ; taken from the respectable merchant, and thrown into the hands of the smuggler. Among the body of the people there exists more ignorance as to the nature and effects of commerce, than might have been expected in a nation so gene- rally commercial. I believe the sight of the vast importations from Britain^ which fill the warehouses in every seaport, is accompanied with a feeling not unallied to envy. They would pardon us for our king and our peers, our palaces and our parade, far sooner than for our vast manufactories, which de- luge the world with their produce. Such feelings are the consequence of ignorant and narrow views. In truth, every improvement in machinery which is made in Leeds or Manchester is a benefit to the world. By its agency the price of some commodity has been lowered, and an article, perhaps essential to comfort, is thus brought within the reach of mil- 206 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 4n ^^m ;ilii lions to whom it must otherwise have been inacces- sible. Any sentiment of jealousy arising from the diffu- sion of British manufactures in their own country is no less absurd. Every increase of importation is, in fact, an evidence of increased opulence and pros- perity in the importing country. Not a bale of goods is landed at the quay cf New York, without an equal value of the produce of the country being exported to pay for it. Commerce is merely a bar- ter of equivalents, and carries this advantage, that both parties are enriched by it. Thus, a piece of muslin may be m>.>ie 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, therefore, 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 opu- lence, both in England and America, has received a positive increase. A commerce which is not mu- tually advantageous cannot be continued. No Tariff bill, no system of restriction, is required to put a stop to it. Governments have no reason to concern ' 'il!l liili i OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 20T )een inacces- tliemselves about the balance of trade. They may safely leave that to intUvidual 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 sur- round the supporters of the prohibitory system, an- other is approaching, even of greater magnitude. In two years the national debt will be extinguished) and the Federal government will find itself in pos- session of a surplus revenue of 12,000,000 of dollars, chiefly the produce of the Tariif duties. The ques- tion will then arise, how is this revenue to be appro- priated. If divided among the different states, the tranquillity of the Union will be disturbed by a thousand jealousies, which very probably would ter- minate in its dissolution. Besides, such an appro- priation is confessedly unconstitutional, and must jirm the government with a power never contempla- ted at its formation. To apply the surplus in pro- jects of general improvement, under direction of Con- gress, would increase many of the difficulties, while it obviated none. In short, there is no escaping from 208 OBSEIIVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. I* M. -'' i •,^:. :-!) '!' i 1 ^H; Ml if 1 1 i II ^ t't. I, 1 1 ■ ■■■ ' i-i'i f 1} ; jKlil'!|i;i, 11 r ■il :iMiii; the dilemma; and, singular as it may seem to an Englisliman, tlic Tariff will probably be extinguished by a sheer plethora of money. The most enlight- ened statesmen unite in the conviction, that there is but one course to bo pursued, and that is, to reduce tlio 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, which in other countries is found to generate cor- ruption, should, in the United States, be the means of forcing the government to return to the prin- ciples of sound and constitutional legislation. I am aware 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 ma* jority of the gentlemen among whom I moved in Bos- ton, were opposed to the Tariff, and that I derived much instruction both from their conversation and writings. The great majority of the mercantile popu- lation, however, are in favour of the prohibitory system, though I could not discover much novelty in NEW ENGLAND CIlAHACTER. 209 seem to an tli^ arguments by which they support it. TothesC) huvvever, I shall not advert, and gladly turn from a subject, which I fear can possess little interest for an English reader. A traveller 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 differ- ing in much from that of the other cities of the Union. If a tolerable observer, he will immediately remark that the lines of the forehead are more deeply indented ; that there is more hardness of feature ; a more cold and lustrele»s expression of the eye; a more rigid compression of the lips, and that the countenance altogether is of a graver and more me- ditative cast. Something of all this is apparent even in childhood ; as the young idea shoots, the pe- culiarities become more strongly marked ; they 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. Observe him in every different situation ; at the funeral, and the marriage-feast ; at the theatre, and the conventicle; in the ball-room, and on the ex- VOL. I. s 210 NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. r li "1' II I 5' :;ii5i| ''3^ ^ I change, and you will set him down as of God's crea- tures the least liable to be influenced by circum- stances appealing to the heart or imagination. The whole city seems to partake of this peculiar character, and a traveller coming from New York is especially struck with it. It is not that the streets of Boston are less crowded, the public places less frequented, or that the business of life is less energe- tically pursued. In all these matters, to the eye of a stranger there is little perceptible difference. But the population is evidently more orderly ; the con- ventional 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 with an air of sententious sagacity ; subjects your coin to a sceptical 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 NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. 211 God's crea- by circum- ation. bis peculiar ew York is t the streets places less less energe- tlie eye of a fence. But fl the con- ore strictly istinguished able in their per weighs lilosopher ; ty with an r coin to a with your top to toe, as to your 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 com- bine pleasure and business, simply because to a New Englander business is pleasure — indeed the only pleasure he cares much about. An Englisli shop- keeper is a tradesman all 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, clff/ ffoods, and tobacco 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 Broad- stairs and Margate. In short, an English tradesman 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 busi- ness rather by the topics he betrays anxiety to avoid, than those on which he delivers his opinion. There is some folly in all this, but there is like- wise 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 ;i; m P^; [i 1 ' I iji '1 bv !' ill' i .* I '.m: J 212 NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER- given to enjoymeut, and the cultivation of those cha** rities, which constitute the redeeming part of our nature. The follies of mankind have at least the advantage of heing generally social, and connected with the happiness of others as well as with our own. But the pursuits of avarice and amhition are selfish ; their ohject is the attainment of solitary distinction, and the depression of competitors is no less necessary to success, than the positive elevation of the candi- date. The natural sympathies of humanity are apt to wither in the hearts of men engrossed hy 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, therefore, that the lawyer should sometimes forget his briefs, and the merchant his " argosies," and his money- bags ; that the poor man should cast off the memory of his sweat and his sufferings, and find even in frivolous amusements, a Sabbath of the sterner pas- sions. But such Sabbath the New Englander rarely knows. Wherever he goes the coils of business are prr onl ow pr de m ri it e 1 i KEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. 213 f those cha- art of our t least the connected |th our own. are selfish ; distinction, 5 necessary the candi- ity are apt ■^ by such f life have ►ntest, and I willingly therefore, ^is briefs, s money- ' memory even in ^ner pas- • rarely ness are around bim. He is a sort of moral Laocoon, differing only in this, that he makes no struggle to be free. Mammon has no more zealous worshipper than your true Yankee. His homage is not merely that of the lip, or of the knee ; it is an entire prostr-^ttion 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 neigh- bours if he can. The thought of business is never absent from his mind. To him there is no enjoyment without traffic. He travels snail-like, with his shop or his counting-house on his back, and, like other hawkers, ? • 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 evi- dently considers that he has a perfect right to unli- mited sincerity. There is no baffiing him. His cu- riosity seems to rise in proportion to the difficulty of its gi'atification : He will track you through every evasion, detect all your doublings, or, if thrown out, 2U NEW ENGLAND CHAnACTER. '\ 1 s 1 : \K ! 1:1 ft ^1^ 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 questlon-iisking spirit ; For when thou takest a notion by the skirt, Thou, like an English bull-dug, kuepest 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 efface. Among their own coun- trymen they are distinguished for their enterprise, prudence, frugality, order, and intelligence. Like the Jews, they are a marked people, and stand out in strong relief from the population which surrounds them. I imagine attachment to republicanism is less fervent in this quarter of the Union than in any other. The understanding of a Yankee is not likely to he run away with by any political plausibilities, and concerns itself very little about evils which 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 revolutionary fury, CONSTITUTION OF NEW ENGLAND STATES. 215 that you are i are tempted ted of female it; •t, y hold, character on 'o centuries f own coun- ' enterprise, ence. Like d stand out h surrounds >Iicanism is than in any s not likely ausibilities, i which are I he feels a about the )nary fury, which has so often marred the fairest prospects of the philanthropist. Since the establishment of their independence, the representatives of these States have almost uniformly advocated in Congress the prin- ciples of Washington, Hamilton, and Adams, and rather regarded with apprehension the democratic tendencies of the constitution, than the dangers wliich might result from increase of power on the part of the executive. This is the more remarkable, as the constitutions of mos. of the New England States are in truth re- publican in a degree verging on democracy. In New Hampshire, the governor, council, senators, and representatives are all elected annually by the people. In Vermont, there is only one Legislative Body, which, along with the governor and council, and judges, is chosen annually. Rhode Island, strange to say, has no written constitution at all, and the inha- bitants find it very possible to live in perfect com- fort and security without one. The custom is, how- ever, to have a governor, senate, and representatives, who are chosen annually. The appointment of j udges is likewise annual. In Massachusetts, the governor \1\ r ■'it "I m ifi IM ri'i ' (' ^ jff i^ 1^ } ■! '" m\L 1 216 CONSTITUTION OP NEW ENGLAND STATES. and Legislative Bodies are annually chosen — the judges, however, hold their offices ad vitam aut cvl*- pam. In the States of Maine and Connecticut, the Executive and Legislative Bodies are appointed an- nually ; the Judiciary, however, is permanent. In all these states, the right of suffrage, with some few restrictions in regard to paupers, &c. is universal. In contrast with this, it may be curio as to take a glance at the constitution of Virginia, the native state of Washington, Jefferson, Madison, and Mun- roe, which has always been remarkable in the Fede- ral Congress for the assertion of the highest and purest principles of republicanism. It must be ob- served, however, that until 1829, the right of suf- frage depended on a much higher territorial quali- fication than at present. In that year, the consti- tution was remodelled and liberalized by a conven- tion of the inhabitants. There are in Virginia two Legislative Bodies. The members of the Lower House are chosen annually, the senators every ^oiir years. These houses, by a joint vote, elect the governor, who remains in office three years. The judges are during good behaviour, COMPARED WITH THAT OF VIRGINIA. 217 or until removed by a concurrent vote of both houses, two-thirds being required to constitute the neces- sary majority. The right of suffrage is vested in every citizen possessed of a freehold of the value of twenty-five dollars, or who has a life-interest in land of the 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 adhering to a consti- tution comparatively aristocratic, and appending to the right of suffrage a high territorial qualification ; while the New England States, with institutions more democratic than have ever yet been realized in any other civilized community, are distinguished as the advocates of a strong federal legislature, a productive system of finance, the establishment of a powerful navy, and such liberal expenditure at home and abroad, as would tend to ensure respect and in- fluence to the government, The truth seems to be, that the original polity of these States partook of the patriarchal character, and has not yet entirely lost its hold on the feelings VOL. I. T 218 POLITICAL PRINCIPLES m I '■' ' ■ J' -J •V, i 1 : ('fir . SI'; m of tbe 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 terri- torial proprietor, of course, immediately partook of the common impulse, to maintain the security of property. Add to this the character of the people ; their apathetic temperament, their habits of parsi- mony, the religious impressions communicated by 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 popu- lation, and we shall have reasons enough, I imagine, why the New Englanders could bear, without inju- ry, a greater degree of political liberty than perhaps any other people in the world. But though the New Englanders had little ap- prehension of glaring violations of law within their own territory, they had evidently no great confi- dence in the wisdom and morality of their neigh- bours. They were, therefore, in favour of a federal legislature, strong enough to command respect, and maintain order throughout the Union. Forming a OF THE NEW ENGLANDERS. 219 1 order in a on to crime ; irn the price ning a terri- y partook of security of the people; its of parsi- iinicated by it extent of pe- valve for )f the popu- , I imagine, ithout inju- lan perhaps d little ap- 'ithin their reat confi- lieir neigh- )f a federal jspect, and Forming a small minority of the confederated States, yet for long subsequent to the Revolution, possessing by far the 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 better satlKfied 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. With- in their own limits there was no risk of domestic disturbance. The most wealthy capitalist felt, that from the citizens of his own province, he had no- thing to apprehend. But it was to the federal legis- lature alone, that they could look for security from without, and they were naturally anxious that this body should be composed of men with a deep inte- rest in the stability of the Union, and representing rather the deliberate opinions of their more intelli- gent constituents, than the hasty and variable im- pressions of the ignorant and vulgar. The New England states have something approach- ing to a religious establishment. In Massachusetts, n 220 RELIGION'. r:i m i 111:' Vermont, New Hampsliire, and Connecticut, the law requires each town to provide, by taxation, for the support of the Protestant religion, leaving, how- ever, to every individual, the choice of the particu- lar sect to wliich he will contribute. 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 vrould be consi- dered 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 prosperity of a community, it is difficult to see on what grounds its support and diffusion should not form part of the duties of a legislature. In these States, the education of the people is like- wise the subject of legislative enactment. In Mas- sachusetts, public schools are established in every district, and supported by a tax levied on the public. In Connecticut they are maintained in another man- ner. 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 EDUCATION. 221 cticut, tlie ixation, for |ving, how- lie particu- the other •erty to act Is regarded lis Maker, be consi- al liberty, it tend to s essential difficult to ion should % )le is like- In Mas- in every le public. her man- >nd, this Pacific, bound it on the East. It therefore included a largo portion of the present Statesof Pennsylvania and Ohio, which being sold, produced a sura 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 hero considered essential to the 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 ad- vantage. In free States, especially, every man has important political functions, which aifect materially not only his own well-being but that of his fellow- citizens ; and it is surely reasonable to demand that he shall at least possess such knoweledge as shall render it possible for him to discharge his duties I Ill I :i 222 EDUCATION. }■'{! ; "1 '. ■ t'^ u n li! ! . ;-i (i M 'A. B with advantage to the community. The policy which attempts to check crime hy the diffusion of know- ledge, 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 universally diffused; arithmetic, I presume, comes by instinct among this guessing, reckoning, expecting, and calculating people. The school-mas- ter has long been abroad in these States, deprived, it is true, of his rod and ferule, but still most use- fully employed. Up to a certain point he has done wonders ; he has made his scholars as wise as him- self, and it would be somewhat unreasonable to ex- pect 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 AMOUNT OP ACQUIREMENT. 223 )licy which of koow- [isdom. It [eyond that jprovement orison, but tly keener hat every education. >re8t class, presume, echoning, hool- mas- deprived, most use- has done ' as him. le to ex- loivever, 5 should iH teach agogue (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 admit that there are more things be- tween heaven and earth than are dreamt of in his philosophy ? A New Englander passes through the statutory process of education, and enters life with the intimate conviction that he has mastered, if not the omne scibile, at least every thing valuable within the domain of intellect. It never occurs to him as possible, that he may have formed a wrong conclu- sion on any question, however intricate, of politics or religion. He despises all knowledge abstracted from the business of the world, and prides himself on his stock of practical truths. In mind, body, and estate) he believes himself the first and noblest of God's creatures. The sound of triumph is ever on his lips, and, like a man who has mounted the first step of a ladder, it is his pride to look down on his neigh- bours, whom he overtops by an inch, instead of di- recting his attention to the great heip^ht yet to be snrmounted. This folly, indeed, is not peculiar to the New Eng- \h% 224 AMOUNT OF ACQUIREMENT. ll >' h s lander, though in him it is more strongly marked than in the inhabitants of the other States. It enters into the very essence of his character ; it is part and parcel of him, and its eradication would involve an entire change of being. " A blessing be on him who first invented sleep," says Sancho Panza, " for it covers a man all over like a cloak." And even so Jonathan may bless his vanity. He is encased in it from top to toe ; it is a panoply of proof, which ren- ders him invulnerable equally to ridicule and argu- ment If to form a just estimate of ourselves and others, be the test of knowledge, the New Englander is the most ignorant of mankind. There is a great deal that is really good and estimable in his charac- ter, but, after all, he is not absolutely the ninth wonder of the world. I know of no benefit that could be conferred on him equal to convincing him of this truth. He may be assured that the man who knows nothing, and is aware of his ignorance, is a wiser and more enviable being than he who knows a little, and imagines that he knows all. The extent of our ignorance is a far more profitable object of BENEFITS OF EDUCATION. 225 'gJy marked «8. It enters It is part and uld involve be on him ^anza, « for nd even so ncased in it which ren- ' and argu- and others, nder is the great deal 18 cliarae- the ninth nefit that »cing him man who mce, is a o knows e extent •bject of contemplation than that of our knowledge. Discon- tent with our actual amount of acquirement is the indispensable condition of possible improvement. It is to be wished that Jonathan would remember this. He may rely on it, he will occupy a higher place in the estimation of the world, whenever he has ac- quired the wisdom to think more humbly of him- self. The New England free- schools are establishments happily adapted to the wants and character of the people. They have been found to work admirably, and too much praise cannot be bestowed on the en- lightened policy which, from the very foundation of the colony, has never once lost sight of the great object of diffusing education through every cottage within its boundaries. It will detract nothing from the honour thus justly due, to mention that the establishment of district schools was not an original achievement of New England intelligence. The parish-schools of Scotland (to say nothing of Ger- many) had existed long before the pilgrim fathers ever knelt in worship beneath the shadows of the hoary forest trees. The principle of the establish- 1 »■■ 226 SYSTEM OF EDUCATION IN SCOTLAND I f^i* K I II'' ments in both countries is the same, the only dif- ference is in the details. In Scotland the land-own- ers of each parish contribute the means of educa- tion for the body of the people. The schoolhouse and dwelling-house of the master are provided and kept in repair by an assessment on the land, which is likewise burdened with the amount of his salary. It has been an object, however, wisely kept in view, that instruction at these seminaries shall not be wholly gratuitous. There are few even of the poorf. >t order in Scotland who would not consider it a deg^ < dation to send their children to a charity school, and the feeling of independence, is perhaps the very last which a wise legislator will venture to counteract. It is to be expected, too, that when the master depends on the emolument to be derived from his scholars, he will exert himself more zealously than when his remuneration arises from a source altogether inde- pendent of his own efforts. The sum demanded from the scholars, however, is so low, that instruction is placed within the reach of the poorest cottager ; and instances are few indeed, in which a child born in Scotland is suffered to grow up without sufficient AND ;he only dif- le land-own- 18 of educa- schoolhouse •rovided and and, which f his salary, oly kept in shall not be the poor* -^ • it a deg^ , school, and lie very last interact. It «r depends cholars, he when his fther inde- nded from truction is ager ; and hild born sufficient COMPARED WITH THAT IN NEW ENGLAND. 22*7 instruction to enable him to discharge respectably the duties of the situation he is destined to fill. When Mr Brougham, however, brought forward in the British Parliament his plan of national edu- cation, which consisted mainly in the establishment throughout the kingdom of parish- schools, similar to those in Scotland, one of the most eminent indivi- duals of the Union* did not hesitate to arrogate the whole merit of the precedent for New England. I have more than once since my arrival heard Mr Brougham accused of unworthy motives, in not pub- licly confessing that his whole project was founded on the example set forth for imitation in this favoured region. It was in vain that I pleaded the circum- stances above stated, the company were evidently determined to believe their own schools without parallel in the world, and the Lord Chancelh r will assuredly go down to his grave unabsolved from this weighty imputation. In character there are many points of resemblance between the Scotch and New Englanders. There is * Mr Webster, in his speech delivered at Plymouth, in commemo- ration of the first settlement of New England. : J 228 COMPARISON BETWEEN THE CHARACTEIl ill > ■■?X' the same sobriety, love of ortler, and perseverance in botli ; the same attachment to religion, mingled with more caution in Sanders, and more enterprise in Jonathan. Both are the inhabitants of a poor country, and both have become rich by habits of steady in- dustry and frugality. Both send forth a large por- tion of their population to participate in the wealth of more favoured regions. The Scot, however^ never loses his attachment to his native land. It has pro- bably been to him a rugged nurse, yet, wander where he will, its heathy mountains are ever present to his imagination, and he thinks of the bleak muirland cottage in which he grew from infancy to manhood, as a spot encircled by a halo of light and beauty. Whenever fortune smiles on him, he returns to his native village, and the drama of his life closes where it commenced. There is nothing of this local attachment about the New Englandcr. His own country is too poor and too populous to afford scope for the full exer- cise of his enterprise and activity. He therefore shoulders his axe, and betakes himself to distant regions ; breaks once and for ever all the ties of kin- UCTEII OF THE SCOTCH AND NEW ENGLANDEIIS. 229 rscverance in mingled witJi enterprise in )oor country, »f steady in- a large por- a tlic wealtli vever^ never It lias pro- finder where ' present to ik muirland o manhood, ind beauty, turns to his loses where nent about s too poor ftill exer- J therefore to distant ies of kin- dred and connexion, and witliout one longing linger- ing look, bids farewell to all the scenes of his in- fancy. In point of morality, I must be excused for giving the decided preference to my countrymen. The Scotch have established throughout the world a high cha- racter for honesty, sobriety, and steady industry. Jonathan is equally sober and industrious, but his reputation for honesty is at a discount. The whole Union is full of stories of his cunning frauds, and of the impositions he delights to perpetrate on his more simple neighbours. Whenever his love of money comes in competition with his zeal for religion, the latter is sure to give way. He will insist on the scrupulous observance of the Sabbath, and cheat his customer on the Monday morning. His life is a comment on the text, Qid festinat d'ltescere, non erit innocens. The whole race of Yankee pedlars, in particular, are proverbial for dishonesty. These go forth annually in thousands to lie, cog, cheat, swindle, in short, to get possession of their neigh- bour's property, in any manner it can be done with impunity. Their ingenuity in deception is confess- t I It 230 NEW ENGLAND PEDLARS. I* L \ edly very great. They warrant broken watches to be the best time-keepers in the world ; sell pinch- beck trinkets for gold ; and have always a large assortment of wooden nutmegs, and stagnant baro- meters. In this respect they resemble the Jews, of which race, by the by, I am assured, there is not a single specimen to be found in New England. There is an old Scotch proverb, " Corbies never pick out corbies' een." The New Englanders are not an amiable people. One meets in them much to approve, little to admire, and nothing to love. They may be disliked, how- ever, but they cannot be despised. There is a degree of energy and sturdy independence about them, in- compatible with contempt. Abuse them as we may, it must still be admitted they are a singular and original people. Nature, in framing a Yankee, seems to have given him double brains, and half heart. Wealth is more equally distributed in the New England states, than perhaps in any other country of the world. There are here no overgrown for- tunes. Abject poverty is rarely seen, but moderate opulence everywhere. This is as it should be. Who EQUAL DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH. 231 would wish for the introduction of the palace, if it must he accompanied hy the Poor's-house ? * There are few beggars to be found in the streets of Boston, but some there are, both there and at New York. These, 1 .v^ever, I am assured, are all foreign- ers, or people of colour, and my own observations go to confirm the assertion. Nine- tenths of those by whom I have been importuned for charity, were evidently Irish. The number of negroes in Boston is comparatively small. The servants, in the better houses at least, are generally whites, but I have not been able to discover that the prejudices which, in the other States, condemn the poor African to de- gradation, have been at all modified or diminished by the boasted intelligence of the New Englanders. * The observations on the Nenr England character in the present chapter, would perhaps have been more appropriately deferred till a later period of the work. Having written them, 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 I'esidence in Boston, but as the final result of my obser- vations 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 different parts of these volumes, and I must request the reader to be ^ood enough to bear it in mind. I 1 lis * r: ;1 li p ' Pi 233 BARBARISMS IN LANGUAGE. it ill' (j;t ill JI I !•» £1 f" 1' i >{ I . i ( Though tho schoolmaster has long exercised his vocation in these States, the fruit of his labours is but little apparent in tho language of his pupils. The amount of bad grammar in circulation is very great ; that of barbarisms enormous. Of course, I do not now speak of tho operative chiss, whose mas- sacre of their mother- tongue, however inhuman, could excite no astonishment ; but I allude to the great body of lawyers and traders ; the men who crowd the exchange and the hotels ; who are to be heard speaking in the courts, and art selected by their fellow-citizens to fill high and responsible offices. Even by this educated and respectable class, the commonest words are often so transmogrified as to be placed beyond the recognition of an Englishman. The word docs is split into two syllables, and pro- nounced do-es. JVherCf for some incomprehensible reason, is converted into tuharc, there into thare ; and I remember, on mentioning to an acquaintance that I had called on a gentleman of taste in the arts, he asked, " Whether he shew (showed) me his pictures." Such words as oratory and dilatory, are pronounced with the penult syllable, long and accented; mis- BARBARISMS IS LANGUAGE. 233 exercised his lis labours is f liis pupils, atioii is very Of course, I whose mas- >r inhuman, llude to the le men who lio are to be selected by tsible offices. B class, the :rified as to ilnglishman. !s, and pro- prehensible *thare; and ntance that the arts, he 8 pictures." tronounced ated; mis- sionary becomes missionainj, angel, dngel, danger, ddnffcr, &c. But this is not all. The Americans have chosen arbitrarily to change the meaning of certain old and established 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 point. It has here no connexion with talent, and simply means pleasant or amiable. Thus a good-natured blockhead in the American vernacular, is a clever man, and having had this drilled into me, I foolishly imagined that all trouble with regcird 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 an- other succeeding to a clever sum of money, of a third embarking in a clever ship, and making a clever voy- age, with a clever cargo ; and of the sense attached to the word in these various combinations, I could gain nothing like satisfactory explanation. With regard to the meaning intended to be con- veyed by an American in conversation, one is some- times left uttei'ly at large. I remember, after con- VOL. I. u r*™! 234 BARBARISMS IN LANGUAGE. U'i p I versing with a very plain, but very agreeable lady, being asked whether Mrs was not a very fine woman. I believe I have not more conscience than my neighbours in regard to a compliment, but in the present case there seemed something so ludicrous in the application of the term, that I found it really impossible to answer in the affirmative. I therefore ventured to hint, that the personal charms of Mrs were certainly not her principal attraction, but that I had rarely enjoyed the good fortune of meet- ing a lady more pleasing and intelligent. This led to an explanation, and I learned that in the dialect of this country, the term fine woman refers exclu- sively to the intellect. The privilege of barbarizing the King's English is assumed by all ranks and conditions of men. Such words as slick^ hedge, 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 instances, but I will not go on with this unpleasant subject ; nor should I have alluded to it, BARBARISMS IN LANGUAGE. 235 but that I feel it something of a duty to express the natural feeling of an Englishman, at finding the lan- guage 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 Englishman, and that the nation will be cut off from the advantages arising from their participation in British literature. If they contemplate such an event with complacency, let them go on and prosper ; they have only to "joro- ffress" in their present course, and their grandchil- dren bid fair to speak a jargon as novel and peculiar as the most patriotic American linguist can desire. II t iT m 236 BOSTON SOCIETY. pri: CHAPTER VIII. n-'i. NEW ENGLAND. ^!i^ i'ii '''^ Having directed the attention of the reader to some of the more prominent defects of the New Eng- land 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 first-rate mer- chants and lawyers, leavened by a small sprinkling of the clergy, and, judging of the quality of the ingredients, from the agreeable effect 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 spe- culative knowledge, than the population of any other mercantile city could supply. In such society BOSTON SOCIETY. 237 it is possible for an Englishman to express his opi- nions without danger of being misunderstood, and he enjoys the advantage of free interchange of thought, and correcting his own hasty impressions by comparison with the results of moie mature ex- periouce and soundei* judgr'ent. It certainly struck me a? dnpjiar, tiit while the great body of the New Engiaiulrire jvre Jistingui$>1u.d above every other people I ha ;«; ovrr known by bi- gotry and narrowness of mind; aud an ntior disre- gard of those delicficies of di;portraf!'.!i i' hirh v,vui':!if<' benevolence of feeling, the hijjher and more eni'jght- ened portion of the community should be p'jcnliarly remarkable for the display of qualiti'.s precisely tlie reverse. Nowhere in the United Stati'^j will the feel- ings, and ^ven prejudices of a stranger, meet ^vith such forbearance as in the circle Co which I iiUiido. Nowhere are the true delicacies of social intercourse more scrupulously observed, ar.t'. nowhere will a traveller mingle in society, v/here his errors of opi- nion will be r.foro rigidly detected or more chari- tably excused. I look back on the period of my resi- dence in Boston with peculiar pleasure. I trust there II : i i 338 BOSTON SOCIETY. ii '? r 13^ I I, ,1 ii;: |iHi 'I ' are individuals there who regard me as a friend, and I know of nothing in tlie more remote contingencies of life, which I contemplate with greater satisfaction, than the possthility of renewing in this country, with at least some of the number, an intercourse which I found so gratifying in their own. In externals, the society of Boston differs little from that of New York. There is the same routine of dinners and parties, and in both the scale of ex- pensive luxury seems nearly equal. In Boston, how- ever, there is more literature, and this circumstance has proportionally enlarged the range of conversa- tion. An Englishman is a good deal struck in Ame- rica with the entire absence of books, as articles of furniture. The remark, however, is not applicable to Boston. There, works of European literature, evidently not introduced for the mere purpose of dis- play, are generally to be found, and even the draw- ing-room sometimes assumes the appearance of a library. The higher order of the New Englanders offers no exception to that grave solemnity of aspect, which is the badge of pU their tribe. The gentlemen are more i, 11^. BOSTON SOCIETY. 239 given than is elsewhere usual, to the discussion of abstract polemics, both in literature and religion. There is a moral pugnacity about them, which is not offensive, because it is never productive of any thing like wrangling, and is qualified by a very large measure of philosophical tolerance. The well-inforra- ed Bostonian is a calm and deliberative being. His decision, on any point, may be influenced by interest, but not by passion. He is rarely contented, like the inhabitants of other states, with taking the plain and broad features of a case ; he enters into all the re- finements of which the subject is capable, discrimi- nates between the plausible and the true, establishes the precise limits of fact and probability, and with unerring accuracy fixes on the weak point in the ar- gument of his opponent. Of all men he is the least liable, I should imagine, to be misled by any general assertion of abstract principle. He uniformly car- ries into the business of common life a certain prac- tical good sense, and never for a moment loses sight of the results of experience. In politics he will not consent to go the loJiole hog^ or, in other words, to hazard a certain amount of present benefit, for the n ■ ii h 5' i\p Nil [I i I 1 in 11 210 LADIES OF BOSTON. 11^ promise, however confident, of new and untried ad- vantages. Of the ladies of Boston I did not see much, and can therefore only speak in doubtful terms of the amount of their attractions. Unfortunately it is still less the fashion, than at New York, to enliven the dinner- table with their presence, and, during my stay, I was only present at one ball. But the im- pression I received was certainly very favourable. These fair New Englanders partake of the endemic gravity of expression, which sits well on them, be- cause it is natural. In amount of acquirement, I believe they are very superior to any other ladies of the Union. They talk well and gracefully of novels and poetry, are accomplished in music and the living languages, and though the New York ladies charge them with being dowdyish in dress, I am not sure that their taste in this respect is not purer, as it cer- tainly is more simple, than that of their fair accusers. The habits of the Bostonians are, I believe, more domestic than is common in the other cities of the Union. The taste for reading contributes to this, by rendering both families and individuals less de- ARISTOCRATIC FEELING. 241 d untried ad- pendent on society. A strong aristocratic feeling is apparent in the families of older standing. The walls of the apartments are often covered with the portraits of their ancestors, armorial bearings are in general use, and antiquity of blood is no less va- lued here than in England. The people, too, dis- play a fondness for title somewhat at variance with their good sense in other matters. The governor of Massachusetts receives the title of Excellency. The President of the United States claims no such honour. The members of the Federal Senate are addressed generally in the northern states, with the prefixture of Honourable, but the New Englanders go further, and extend the same distinction to the whole body of representatives, a practice followed in no other part of the Union. Such trifles often afford considerable insight to the real feelings of a people. Nowhere are mere nomi- nal distinctions at so high a premium as in this re- publican country. Military titles are caught at with an avidity, which to an Englishman appears abso- lutely ridiculous. The anomaly of learned majors VOL. I. X ^^r^T'' '1'' w 1 ■i m 1 r ^7 '?: . ll lt'<5 13 J'- 1 ^1 .tS>! lnours into ht- bachelor the better no means , swarm all I is equally , the judge i*. ioston than t feel pride 5ven retain istitutions. iiamentary [•est. The revolution in France had communicated a strong impulse to opinion in England, and the policy to be adopted by the ministry in regard to this great question, was yet unknown. The subject, therefore, in all its bearings, was vory frequently discussed in the society of Boston. It was one on which I had anticipated little difference of opinion among the citizens of a republic. Admitting that their best wishes were in favour of the prosperity of Bri- tain, and the stability of her constitution, I expected that their judgment would necessarily point to great and immediate changes in a monarchy confessedly not free from abuse. For myself, though considered, I believe, as something of a Radical at home, I had come to the United States prepared to bear the imputation of Toryism among a people whose ideas of liberty Avere carried so much further than my own. In all these anticipations I was mistaken. Strange to say, I found myself quite as much a Radical in Boston, and very nearly as much so in New York, as I had been considered in England. It was soon appa- rent that the great majority of the more enlightened \ \ 2U POLITICAL SENTIMENTS. :i'i If! i m t m \ mWi ^ hSbM I f H 1 till. class in both cities, regarded any great and sudden change in the British institutions as pregnant with the most imminent danger. In their eyes the chance of ultimate advantage was utterly insignificant, when weighed against the certainty of immediate peril. " You at present," they said, " enjoy more practi- cal freedom than has ever in the whole experience of mankind been permanently secured to a nation by any institutions. Your government, whatever may be its defects, enjoys at least this inestimable advan- tage, that the habits of the people are adapted to it. This cannot be the case in regard to any change, however calculated to be ultimately beneficial. The process of moral adaptation is ever slow and preca- rious, and the experience of the world demonstrates that it is far better that the intelligence of a people should be in advance of their institutions, than that the institutions should precede the advancement of the people. In the former case, however theoreti- cally bad, their laws will be practically modified by the influence of public opinion ; in the latter, however good in themselves, they cannot be secure or bene- ficial in their operation. We speak as men whose POLITICAL SENTIMENTS. 245 upinions have been formed from experience, under a government, popular in the widest sense of the term. As friends, we caution you to beware. We pretend not to judge whether change be necessary. If it be, we trust it will at least be gradual ; that your statesmen will approach the work of reform, with the full knowledge that every single innovation will occasion the necessity of many. The appetite for change in a people grows with what it feeds on. It is insatiable. Go as far as you will, at some point you must stop, and that point will be short of the wish of a large portion — probably of a numerical majority — of your population. By no concession does it appear to us that you can avert the battle that awaits you. You have but the choice whe- ther the great struggle shall be for reform or pro- perty." I own I was a good deal surprised by the pre- valence of such opinions among the only class of Americans whose judgment as to matters of govern- ment, could be supposed of much value. As it was my object to acquire as much knowledge as possible with regard to the real working of the American h M uiM 1:1, 246 TASTE FOR THE ARTS. constitution on the habits and feelings of the people ; I was always glad to listen to political discussion between enlightened disputants. This carried with it at least the advantage of affording an indication to the prevailing tone of thought and opinion, in a con- dition of society altogether different from any within the range of European experience. At present I have only alluded to the subject of politics at all, as illustrative of a peculiar feature in the New England character. At a future period, I shall have occasion to view the subject under a different aspect. The comparative diffusion of literature in Boston, has brought with it a taste for the fine arts. The better houses are adorned with pictures ; and in the Athenaeum — a public library and reading-room — is a collection of casts from the antique. Establish- ments for the instruction of the people in the higher branches of knowledge, are yet almost unknown in the United States, but something like a Mechanics' Institute has at length been got up in Boston, and I went to hear the introductory lecture. The apart- ment, a large one, was crowded by an audience whose appearance and deportment were in the high- m '! ARTISTS. 217 est degree orderly and respectable. The lecture was on the steam-engine, the history, principle, and con- struction of which were explained most lucidly by a lecturer, who belonged, I was assured, to the class of operative mechanics. Boston can boast having produced some eminent artists, at the head of whom is Mr Alston, a painter, confessedly of fine taste, if not of high genius. His taste, however, unfortunately renders him too fas- tidious a critic on his own performances, and he has now been upwards of ten years in painting an his- torical subject, which is yet unfinished. This surely is mere waste of life and labour. Where a poet or painter has a strong grasp of his subject, he finds no difficulty in embodying his conceptions. The idea which requires years of fostering, and must be cherished and cockered into life, is seldom worth the cost of its nurture. Mr Alston should remember that a tree is judged by the quantity as well as by the quality of its fruit. Had Raphael, Rubens, or Titian, adopted such a process of elaboration, how many of the noblest specimens of art would have been lost to the world ! 248 ARTISTS. m I, hi: mi ■ WM \!l I I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with Mr Harding, a painter of much talent, and very considerable genius. His history is a singular one. During the last war with Great Britain, he was a private soldier, and fought in many of the battles on the frontier. At the return of peace, he ex- changed the sword for the pallet, and without in- struction of any kind, attained to such excellence, that his pictures attracted much notice, and some little encouragement. But America affords no field for the higher walks of art, and Harding, with powers of the first order, and an unbounded enthu- siasm for his profession, is not likely, I fear, to be appreciated as he deserves. Some years ago he visited England, where his talents were fast rising into celebrity, but the strength of the amorpatri »1 [^ ,' IS '; :1 n li I 250 DEPARTUP'S FROM BOSTON. U ' but from sunset to sunset. In conformity with this doctrine, the shops are generally closed at twilight on Saturday evening, and all business is suspended. Of course, after sunset on the day following, they consider themselves discharged from further reli- gious observance, and the evening is generally de- voted to social intercourse. Having passed nearly three weeks in Boston, it became necessary that I should direct my steps to the southward. I determined to return to New York by land, being anxious to see something of the coun- try, and more than I had yet done of its inhabitants. The festivities of Christmas, therefore, were no sooner over, than I quitted Boston, with sentiments of deep gratitude for a kindness, which, from the hour of my arrival, to that of my departure, had continued unbroken. I have already described an American stage-coach. The one in which I now travelled, though distin- guished by the title of " mail-stage," could boast no peculiar attraction. It was old and rickety, and the stuffing of the cushions had become so conglo- merated into hard and irregular masses, as to im- 1;,|i JOURNEY TO WORCESTER. 251 l»ro8s tho passengers with the conviction of being seated on a bag of pebbles. Fortunately it was not crowded, and the road, though rough, was at least better than that on which I had been jolted on my journey from Providence. It was one o'clock before we got fairly under way, and it is scarcely possible, I imagine, for a journey to commence under gloomier auguries. The weather was most dismal. The wind roared loudly among the branches of the leafless trees, and beat occasionally against the carriage in gusts so violent, as to threaten its overthrow. At length the clouds opened, and down came a storm of snow, which, in a few minutes, had covered the whole surface of the country, as with a winding-sheet. The first night we slept at Worcester, a town con- taining about 3000 inhabitants, which the guide- book declares to contain a bank, four printing-offices, a court-house, and a gaol, assertions which I can pretend neither to corroborate nor deny. Its appear- ance, however, as I observed on the following morn- ing, was far from unprepossessing ; the streets were clean, and round the town stood neat and pretty- looking villas, which might have been still prettier. ¥; 1 1 ' 1 f 1 [lit.. ii:.! li 1 i: 232 NEW ENGLAND INN. had they displayed less gaudy and tasteless decora- tion. As the county court, — or some other, — was then sitting, the inn was crowded with lawyers and their clients, at least fifty of whom already occupied the puh- lic salon, which was certainly not more than twenty feet square. The passengers were left to scramble out of the coach as they best could in the dark, and afterwards to explore their way without the smallest notice, beyond that of a broad stare from the master of the house. On entering the room, I stood for some time, in the hope that a party who engrossed the whole fire, would compassionate our half-frozen condition, and invite our approach. Nothing, how- ever, was farther from their thoughts than such be- nevolence. " Friend, did you come by the stage?" asked a mai immediately in my front, *' I guess you found it tarnation cold." I assured him his conjec- ture was quite correct, but the reply had not the effect of inducing any relaxation of the blockade. 1 soon observed, however, that my fellow-travellers elbowed their way without ceremony, and by adopt- ing Rodney's manceuvre of cutting the line, had ^11 i'! NEW ENGLAND INN. 253 ;eless decora- already gained a comfortable position in rear of the cordon. I therefore did not hesitate to follow tlieir example, and pushing resolutely forward, at length enjoyed the sight and warmth of the blazing embers. In about half an hour, the ringing of a bell gave welcome signal of supper, and accompanying my fellow-passengers to the eating-room, we found a plentiful meal awaiting our appearance. On the score of fare there was certainly no cause of complaint. There were dishes of beef-steaks — which in this country are generally about half the size of a news- paper, — broiled fowl, ham, cold turkey, toast — not made in the English fashion, but boiled in melted butter, — a kind of crumpet called waffles, &c. &c. The tea and coffee were poured out and handed by a girl with long ringlets and ear-rings, not remarkable for neatness of apparel, and who remained seated, unless when actually engaged in the discharge of her functions. Nothing could exceed the gravity of her expression and deportment, and there was an air of cool indifference about her mode of ministering to the wants of the guests, which was certainly far Iff' 'lil ■ lit :J' .:?l i'i : ii I M 254 NEW ENGLAND INN. from prepossessing. This New England Hebe, however, was good-looking, and with the addition of a smile would have been pleasing. Having concluded the meal, I amused myself on our return to the public room, by making observa- tions on the company. The clamour of Babel could not have been much worse than that which filled the apartment. I attempted to discriminate between lawyer and client, but the task was not easy. There was in both the same keen and callous expression of worldly anxiety ; the same cold selfishness of look and manner. The scene altogether was not agreeable; many of the company were without shoes, others without a cravat, and compared with people of the same class in England, they were dirty both in habit and person. It is always unpleasant to mingle in a crowd, with the consciousness that you have no sympathy or fellow-feeling with the individuals that compose it. I therefore soon desisted from my task of observation, and having fully digested the con- tents of a Worcester newspaper, determined on re- tiring for the night. The process in England in such circumstances, is 4 ^m NEW ENGLAND INN. 255 ngland Hebe, li the addition sed myself ou tking observa- Df Babel could rhieh filled the inate between >t easy. There ous expression Lshness of look not agreeable; shoes, others people of the dirty both in sant to mingle ,t you have no idividuals that from my task sted the con- irmined on re- cumstances, is to ring for the chamber-maid, but in America there are no bells, and no chamber-maids. You there- fore walk to the bar, and solicit the favour of being supplied with a candle, a request which is ultimately, though by no means immediately, complied with. You then explore ihe way to your apartment unas- sisted, and with about the same chance of success as the enterprising Parry in 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 ate of course without the means of probable conjecture. Let it be suppose % however, that you are more for- tunate than Captain Parry, and at length discover the object of your search. If you are an English- man, and too young to have roughed it under Wel- lington, you are probably, what in this country is called " mighty particular ;" rejoice in a couple of comfortable pillows, to say nothing of a lurking pre- j udice in favour of multiplicity of blankets, especi- ally witli the thermometer some fifty degrees below the freezing point. Such luxuries, however, it is ten to one you will not find in the uncurtained crib in which you are destined to pass the night. Your m ;i . Ui I 'I ■ V m m r ; 256 NEW ENGLAND INN. first impulse, therefore, 's 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 much too busy to have any time to throw away in humouring the whimsies of a foreigner; and should it happen, as it does some- times in the New England States, that the establish- ment is composed of natives, your chance of a com- fortable sleep for the night, is about as great as that of your gaining the Thirty Thousand pound prize in the lottery. But if there are black, and, still better, if there are Irish servants, your prospect of comfort is wonderfully improved. A douceur, judiciously administered, generally does the business, and when you at length recline after the fatigues of the day, you find your head has acquired at least six inches additional elevation, and the superincumbent weight of woollen haw been largely augmented. It was at Worcester that I received this most use- ful information. Being in want of the above-men- tioned accommodations, I deputed my servant to make an humble representation of my necessities to the landlord. The flinty heart of Boniface, however, 6 JOURNEY TO SPRINGFIELD. 957 unbent weight was not to be moved. The young lady with tlie ringlets and ear-rings was no less inexorable, but, hickily for me, a coloured waiter was not proof against the eloquence of a quarter dollar. In five minutes the articles were produced, and as sailors say, " I tumbled in" for the night, with a reasonable prospect of warmth and comfort. After a good breakfast on the following morning, I felt again fortified for the perils and disagreeables of the mail-stage. Mr Harding, to wliose merits as an artist I have already alluded, was fortunately a fellow-passenger, being on his way to join his family at Springfield. The only other passenger was a young lady, with an enormous band-box on her knee, to whom Mr Harding introduced me. There was something in this fair damsel and her band-box peculiarly interesting. She sat immediately oppo- site to me, but nothing of her face or person was N!sible, except a forehead, a few dark ringlets, and a pair of the most beautiful eyes in the world, which, like the sun jut;t peeping above the horizon, sent the brightest flashes imaginable, along the upper level of this Brobdignag of a band-box. VOL. I. ■t I I , :i' M 258 FAIR NEW EN6L4NDER. The snow had continued to fall during the night, J and the jolting of the " mail-stage " was certainly M any thing but agreeable. When out of humour, however, by the united influence of the weather and the road, I had only to direct n single glance to- wards 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 merriment. For about five hours the fair oculist continued our fellow-traveller, and I had at length come to think of her as some fantastic and preternatural creation ; such a being as one sometimes 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 re- member averting my face, lest a view of her counte- nance might destroy tho fanciful interest she had excited. She depart^."!, therefore, unseen ; but those eyes will live in my memory, long after all record of her fellow-traveller shall have faded from hers. After her departure, Harding told me her story ; 1^ ili 3 K' ARRIVAL AT SPRINGFIELD. 259 man romance, ishe was a young lady of respectable connexions, and with the consent of her family, had become en- gaged to a young man, who afterwards proved false to his vows, and married a wealthier bride. She had suffered severely under this disappointment, and was then going on a visit to her aunt at Northamp- ton, in the hope that change of scene might contri- bute 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 we reached Springfield, where I had determined on making a day's halt. The inn was comfortable, and I suc- ceeded in procuring private a^ -\rtments. On the fol- lowing 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 witli white frame- work villas, with green Venetian blinds, and porti- coes of Corinthian or Ionic columns sadly out of % ['A ' I'lill ' I ^GO FEATURES OF THE COUNTRY. ■ ^1 -•11 tl I .J! f", . ' I proportion. It appears to me, however, that mas- sive columns — and columns not apparently massive at least, must be absurd — are sadly out of place when attached to a wooden building. When such fragile materials are employed, lightness should be the chief object of the architect, but these transatlantic Palla- dios seem to despise the antiquated notions of fitness and proportion which prevail in other parts of the world. Tliey heap tawdry ornament upon their gingerbread creations, and you enter a paltry clap- board cottage, through — what is at least meant for — a splendid colonnade. In the country through which I passed, the houses are nearly all of the class which may be called comfortable. The general scenery at a more favour- rable season I can easily conceive to be pretty. The chief defect is the utter fiimsiness of the houses, and the glaring effect arising from the too proruse use of the paint-brush. They are evidently not calcu- lated 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 iuhabitants delight to indulge. li ■ f II i( mill ii • FEATURES OF THE COUNTRY. 261 Tho country is too new for a landscape painter. With variety of surface, and abundance of wood and water, an artist will certainly find many scenes wor- thy of his pencil, but the worm fences, and the fresh- ness and regularity of the houses, are sadly destruc- tive of the picturesque. Had the buildings been of more enduring materials, time, the beautifier, would have gi'adually mellowed down their hardness of out- line, and diminished the unpleasant contrast which is here so obtrusively apparent between the 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. The 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. Where plenty 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 hap- piness were so widely and plentifully diflfused as in M t ( \ i Mm n I'. M '• r I' i u m' ft , i ' 262 DIFFUSION OF COMFORT. these New England States. And yet the people are not happy, or it* they be, there is no faith in Lavater, Never have I seen countenances so furrowed by care as those of this favoured people. Both soul and body appear to have been withered up by the anxie- ties of life; and with all appliances of enjoyment within their reach, it seems as if some strange curse had gone forth against thi^m^ which said, " Ye shall not enjoy." One looks in vain here for the ruddy and jovial faces which in England meet us on every 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 indi- cations of a light hefvrt and a contented spirit in the New England States. Let me not, however, be misunderstood. The dis- tinction I would draw is simply this. The English- man has the inclination to be happy, though not always the means of happiness at command. The New Englander, with a thousand blessings, is defi- cient in what outvalues them all, the disposition to enjoyment. He is iiiter opes inops. Something of this misfortune, I have no doubt, is 1 '"-v, PILGRIM FATHERS. 263 I 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 tempera- ment. Full of spiritual pride, needy, bigoted, su- perstitious, ignorant and despising knowledge, intol- erant, fleeing from persecution in the Old World, and yet bringing it with them to the New ; such were the men to whom tMs people may trace many of their peculiarities. That they were distinguished by some of these qualities, was their misfortune ; that they were marked by others, was their crime. They and their descendants spread through the wilderness, and solitude had not the effect of softening the aspe- rities of faith or feeling. The spirit of social depend- ence became broken ; and as ages passed on, and the increase of population, and the pursuits of gain, induced them to collect in masses, the towns and vil- lages became peopled with men of solitary habits, relying on their own resources, and associating only for the 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 temptation to misrepresent them. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. ^ .^. ^ 1.0 I.I ■ 30 ■^" ■a 14.0 I ■2.5 2.2 2.0 JL8 IL25 III 1.4 III 1.6 6" Pliotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N,Y. 14S80 (716) 87!l-4503 •^ \ <^ ^ 4. m m 9i ii. 264 SPRINGFIELD. The character of the New Englanders is a subject on which I confess I feel tempted to be prolix. In truth, it seems to me so singular and anomalous, so compounded of what is valuable and what is vile, that I never feel certain of having succeeded in ex- pressing the precise combination of feeling which it inspires. As a philanthropist, I should wish them to be less grasping and more contented with the bless- ings they enjoy, and would willingly barter a good deal of vanity, and a little substantial knavery, for an additional infusion of liberal sentiment, and gene- rous feeliiig. Springfield is the seat of one of the chief arsenals and manufactories of arms in the United States. An ofiicer of artillery was good enough to conduct me over these. Every thing seemed well managed, and the machinery at all points very complete. About twelve or thirteen thousand muskets are pro- duced annually. My conductor was a particularly well-informed and obliging person, who had lately returned from Europe, where he had been sent to receive instruction in regard to the recent improve- ments in gunnery. /. UNITED STATES ARMY. 265 The officers of the United States army are hetter paid than the English. A captain receives about L.400 a-year, or about L.lOO more than a lieuten- ant-colonel in our service. But there is this differ- ence between the British army and that of the United States; no one can enter the latter for pleasure, or to enjoy the enviable privilege of wearing an epaulet and an embroidered coat. The service is one of real and almost constant privation. The troops are scat- tered about in forts and garrisons in remote and unhealthy situations, and are never quartered, as with us, in the great cities. The principal stations are on the Canadian and Indian frontiers, and on the Mississippi, and I imagine the sort of life they lead there would not be greatly relished by his Ma- jesty's Coldstream Guards or the Blues. I confess I was rather surprised at the smallness of the United States army. It amounts only to 6000 men inclu- ding all arms, and I was certainly not less astonished at the enormous proportion of desertions, which are no less than 1000 annually, or one-sixth of the whole numbers. Desertions in the British army do not exceed one in a hundred. VOL. 1. z '■r':l WM m !i I iS^ i; ; j il fi '■■ 1 1 ; 1 1 i SM ■ 1 \ 1 1 i 266 HARTFORD. On the following day the snow was so deep as to render the road impassahle for coaches, so with the thermometer fifteen degrees helow zero, I took a sleigh for Hartford, where^ after a journey of five hours, we were deposited in safety. Hartford is a small and apparently a Very husy town on the Con- necticut river. It is rather remarkable as being the seat of the celebrated convention, which, during the late war with Britain, threatened the dissolution of the Union. I slept at Hartford. The inn was dirty, but this disadvantage was more than counterbalanced by its possession of an Irish waiter, to whom nothing was impossible, and who bustled about in my behalf with an activity and good-will which fortunately it was not difficult to repay. The stage for Newhaven did not start till late on the following day, and I had all the morning on my hands. What to make of it I did not know ; so I wandered about the town, saw the College and the New Exchange Buildings, and a church, and a gaol, and a school, and the Charter Oak, and peeped into all the shops, and then re- turned to the inn with the assured conviction that CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE. 267 Hartford is one of the stupidest places on the sur- face of the globe. I may as well, however, relate a circumstance which happened here, since it may perhaps throw some light on the New England character. I had returned from my ramble, and was sitting near the stove in the public room, engaged in the dullest of all tasks, reading an American newspaper, when a woman and a girl, about ten years old, en- tered, cold and shivering, having just been dischar- ged from a Boston stage-coach. The woman was respectable in appearance, rather good-looking, and evidently belonging to what may in this country be called the middling class of society. She imme- diately enquired at what hour the steam- boat set off for New York, and, on learning that owing to the river being frozen up, it started from Newhaven, some thirty miles lower, she was evidently much discomposed, and informed the landlord, that calcu- lating on meeting the steam-boat that morning at Hartford, her pocket was quite unprepared for the expense of a further land journey, and the charges 268 CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE. i 1 ! j I ii H ill I ii of different sorts necessarily occasioned by a day's delay on the road. The landlord shrugged up his shoulders and walk- ed off; the Irish waiter looked at her with something of a quizzical aspect, and an elderly gentleman, engaged like myself in reading a newspaper, raised his eyes for a moment, discharged his saliva on the carpet, and then resumed his occupation. Though evidently without a willing audience, the woman con- tinued her complaints ; informed us she had left her husband in Boston to visit her brother in New York ; explained and re- explained the cause of her misfor- tune, and a dozen times at least concluded by an assurance, — of the truth of which the whole party were quite satisfied,^ — that she was sadly puzzled what to do. In such circumstances, I know not whether it was benevolence, or a desire to put a stop to her detest- able iteration, or a mingled motive compounded of both, that prompted me to ofier to supply her with any money she might require. However, I did so, and the offer, though not absolutely refused, was certainly very ungraciously received. She stared at CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE. 269 me expressed no thanks, and again commenced the detail of her grievances, of which, repetition had something staled the infinite variety. I therefore left the apartment. Shortly after the sleigh for Newhaven drove up, and I had entirely forgotten the amiahle sufferer and her pecuniary affliction, when she came up, and said, without any expies- sion of civility, " You offered me money, I'll take it." I asked how much she wished. She answered, sixteen dollars, which I immediately ordered my servant to give her. Being a Scotchman, however, he took the prudent precaution of requesting her address in New York, and received a promise that the amount of her deht should be transmitted to Bunker's on the following day. - • * A week passed after my arrival in New York, and I heard no more either of the dollars or my fellow- traveller, and being curious to know whether I had been cheated, I at length sent to demand repayment. My servant came back with the money. He had seen the woman, who expressed neither thanks nor gratitude ; and on being asked why she had violated her promise to discharge the debt, answered that she ii }, 270 N£WHAV£K. I 1 ,:■ I !i if Mil 1 1 'II t could not be at the trouble of sending tbe money, for she supposed it was my business to ask for it. It should be added, that tbe house in ivhich she resided, was that of her brother, a respectable shop* keeper in one of the best streets in New York, whose establishment certainly betrayed no indica- tion of poverty. The truth is, that the woman was very far from being a swindler. She was only a Yankee, and troubled with an indisposition-^somewhat endemic in New England — to pay money. She thought, per- haps, that a man who had been so imprudent as to lend to a stranger, might be so negligent as to foi^et to demand repayment. The servant might have lost her address; in short, it was better to take the chances, however small, of ultimately keeping the money, than to restore it unasked. All this might be very sagacious, but it certainly was not very high- principled or very honest, r* • It was late before we reached Newhaven, and the greater part of the journey was performed in the dark. The inn was so crowded, that the landlord told me fairly he could not give me a bed. I then ill! NEWHAVEN INN. 271 requested a sofa and a blanket, but with no greater success. However, he proved better than his word. I was shown to a sort of dog-hole without plaster, which I verily believe was the dormitory of the black waiter, who was displaced on my account. The smell of the bed was most offensive, the sheets were dirty, and the coverlid had the appearance of an old horse- cloth. The only other furniture in the apartment was a table and a wooden chair ; no glass, no wash- ing-stand, no towels. These articles were promised in the morning, but they never came, though most importunately demanded. The heat of the crowded sitting-room was intense; the temperature of the bed-room was in the opposite extreme. At length, driven from the former, I wrapped myself in my cloak, and sought slumber on the filthy mass of flock from which its usual sable occupant had been expelled. Cold weather and strong odours are not favour- able to sleep. In about two hours I arose, and ex- ploring my way to the sitting-room, now untenanted, passed the rest of the night in a chair by the fire. The steam-boat was to start at five in the morning, m 272 JOURNEY TO NEW YORK. ii ill i i i I III liiiij i|jj|F iiii 1 1 I and at half past four several coaches drove up to i convey the passengers to the quay. I saw nothing of Newhaven, and its associations in my memory are certainly far from pleasant. It was with satisfac-. (t • tion I reached the steam-hoat, and hade farewell to it for ever. The night concluded, however, more fortunately than it commenced. I procured a herth in the steam- boat, and was only roused from a comfortable snoose by the announcement of breakfast, and the clatter of knives and plates which immediately succeeded it. Under such circumstances, I had experience enough to know that no time was to be lost. There is a tide in tbe affairs of steam-passengers in America, which must be taken at the flood in order to lead either to breakfast or dinner. A minute, therefore, was enough to find me seated at the table, and contri- buting my strenuous efforts to the work of destruc- tion. Breakfast was succeeded by the still greater ' luxury of basin and towel, and when I went 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. ARRIVAL AT NEW YORK. 273 The voyage was pleasant and prosperous; the weather, though still cold, was clear, and before day closed, I again found myself at New York. )) 3 ' 274 INTELLIGENCE FROM ENGLAND. m K i l>. ( ■■■t- , if" '' mi \\ < CHAPTER IX. NEW YORK. On the day 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 re- ceive the earliest intelligence, he proposed our walk- ing 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 window was exhibited a pla- card of the following import: — *^ Duke of Welling- ND. EXCITEMENT IT OCCASIONS. 275 York, the city lligence that a graphed in the mtrary winds, )ut an arrival n seemed agog riend; and as anxious to re- used our walk- I returning to I ig the house, { >l]ected about libited a pla- e of Welling- ton and Ministry resigned ; Lord Grey, Premier; Brougham, Lord Chancellor," &c. . <"> It was impossible not to be struck with the ex- treme interest this intelligence excited. Here and there were groups of quidnuncs engaged in earnest discussion on the consequences of this portentous intelligence. Some anticipated immediate revolu- tion ; a sort of second edition of the Three Days of Paris. Others were disposed to think that Revolu- tion, though inevitable, would be more gradual. A third party looked forward to the speedy restoration of the Duke of Wellington to power. But all partook of the pervading excitement, and the sensation pro- duced by these 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 in- vitation. The ball-rooms were very tolerable, but the entrance detestable. It led close past the bar of the City Hotel, and the ladies, in ascending the stair, which, by the by, was offensively dirty, must have been drenched with tobacco smoke. Within, how- i. 2T6 PUBLIC HALL. ■ 1 Ht ' ■ i 1 .1 Bn; 'k 1 1 : ml'' r p 1 i ■ 1 \ W ^s > I liii ! 1 1 ,- nets, appear" in his conversation, as if such things had heen 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. But time passes on. The traveller has returned to the vulgar drudgery of the counting-house ; his coats, like his affectations, become threadbare, and are replaced by the more humble productions of na- tive artists ; later tourists have been the heralds of newer fashions and fopperies; his opinions are no longer treated with deference ; he sinks to the level of other men, and the vulgar dandy is gradually changed into a plain American citizen, content with the comforts of life, without concerning himself about its elegancies. The ball was very pleasant, and one of its chief agremens undoubtedly was an excellent supper. The oyster- soup, a favourite (iish in this part of the world, was all that Dr Kitchiner could have desired. NEW-YEAR S DAY. 279 Turkey, ham, terrapin — a sort of land crab, on which I have not ventured — jellies, creams, tees, fruit, hot punch, and cold lemonade, were in profusion. Having afterwards remained 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 acquaint- ances ; 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, which is attended by their congregation. For my own part, I confess, I found the custom ra- ther inconvenient, there being about thirty families, whose attentions rendered such an acknowledgment indispensable. Determined, however, to fail in no- thing 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 Gracechurcb, in whose so- ciety I had often experienced much pleasure. I n •,.) 280 NEW-YEAR'S DAY. 11' in I it >. § I'piiPI'i '1' Ii r ill III ! !i;;il i 'III j iiiii m 111 ii! found him attired in full canonicals, with a table displaying a profusion of wine and cake, and busied in conversing and shaking hands with his parishion- ers. Having paid my compliments, I proceeded on my progress, and in the course of about four hours had the satisfaction of believing that I had discharged my duty, though not, — as I afterwards remembered, — without some omissions, which I trust my friends were good enough to forgive. The routine is as follows : The ladies of a family remain at home to receive visits ; the gentlemen are abroad, actively engaged in paying them. You en- ter, shake hands, are seated, talk for a minute or two on the topics of the day, then hurry off as fast as you can. Wine and cake are on the table, of which each visitor is invited to partake. The cus- tom is of Dutch origin, and, I believe, does not pre- vail in any other city of the Union. I am told its influence on the social intercourse of families, is very salutary. The first day of the year is considered a day of kindness and reconciliation, on which petty differences are forgotten, and trifling injuries for- given. It sometimes happens, that between friends 5 NAVY YARD. 281 long connected, a misunderstanding takes place. Each is too proud to make concessions, alienation follows, and thus are two families, very probably, permanently estranged. But on this day of annual amnesty, each of the offended parties calls on the wife of the other, kind feelings are recalled, past grievances overlooked, and at their next meeting they take each other by the hand, and are again friends. In company with a most intelligent and kind friend, who was lately mayor of the city, I visited the Navy yard at Brooklyn. Commodore Chauncey, the commander, is a fine specimen of an old sailor of the true breed. He has a good deal of the Benboio about him, and one can read in his open and wea- therbeaten countenance, that it has long braved both the battle and the breeze. He took us over several men-of-war, and a frigate yet on the stocks, which appeared the most splendid vessel of her class I had ever seen. American men-of-war are built chiefly of live oak, the finest and most durable material in the world. Every thing in these navy yards is conducted with admirable judgment, for the plain reason, as the I i VOL. I. 2 A S82 HOUSE OF REFUGE i jii! I! iiiii lii ill 11 ill I I ' l!l!l lllilill! |l i^ I'illll III, '"' I iiii !ii ^' --' ' \\WM\ I I iiiii ii il iilli Americans themselves assure me, that the manage- ment of the navy is a department in which the mob, everywhere else triumphant, never venture to inter- fere. There is good sense in this abstinence. The principles of government, which are applicable to a civil community, would make sad work in a man-of- war. The moment a sailor is afloat, he must cast the slough of democracy, and both in word and ac- tion cease to be a free man. Every ship is necessa- rily a despotism, and the existence of any thing like a deliberative body, is utterly incompatible with safety. The necessity of blind obedience is impe- rious, though it is not easy to understand how those accustomed to liberty and equality on shore, can readily submit to the rigours of naval discipline. In the same excellent company I made the round of the most interesting public institutions of the city — the House of Refuge for juvenile delinquents, the Deaf and Dumb Asylum, and the Asylum for Lu- natics. All are conducted with exemplary judgment, and benevolence exerted with an ardent but enlight- ened zeal for the general interests of humanity. The first of these institutions is particularly laudable, FOR JUVENILE OFFENDERS. 283 both as respects its objects and management. It is an asylum for juvenile offenders of both sexes, who, by being thrown into the depraved society of a com- mon gaol, would, in all probability, grow up into hardened and incorrigible criminals. In this insti- tution, they are taught habits of regular industry ; are instructed in the principles of religion, and when dismissed, they enter the world with ample means at command of earning an honest livelihood. The girls are generally bred up as sempstresses or 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 arrangement they again start fair, with the full ad- vantage of an unblemished character. The establish- ment 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 black- smiths, and tailors and brushmakers, 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 de- tect no fault in any department. There can be no m 284 POLITICAL PARTIES. iii ii iii i I' Ii: a: I: llti IliF liSifi ill i I III Mm doubt, I think, that t))e benevolence to which this institution \h 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 compli- cated with opinions continually varying, and inte- rests peculiar to particular districts, and includes the consideration of so many topics, apparently uncon- nected with politics altogether, that I now enter on it with little expectation of making it completely in- telligible to an English reader. Of course, all the world knows that the population of the Union is, or was, divided into two great parties, entitled Fede- ralist and Republican. These terms, however, by no means accurately express the differences which divide them. Both parties are Federalist, and both Republican, but the former favour the policy of grant- ing wider powers to the Federal legislature and exe- cutive ; of asserting their control over the State go- vernments ; of guarding the Constitution against po- pular encroachment; in short, of strengthening the bonds of public union, and maintaining a presiding power of suiBcient force and energy, to overawe tur- POLITICAL PARTIES. 285 bulence 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 in- fluence 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 be- tween sovereign and independent States, each of which possesses the inalienable right of deciding on the legality of the measures of the general govern- ment. The Federalist, in short, is disposed to regard the United States as one and indivisible, and the authority of the United government as paramount to every other jurisdiction. The Democrat considers tiiQ Union as a piece of mosaic, tesselated with stones of different colours, curiously put together, but pos- sessing no other principle of cohesion than that of mutual convenience. The one regards the right of withdrawing from the national confederacy as inde- feasible in each of its members ; the other denies the existence of such right, and maintains the Federal I, fi 286 POLITICAL PARTIES. 't !! government to be invested with the power of enfor- cing its decrees within the limits of the Union. During the period succeeding the Revolution, New England, pre-eminent in wealth, population, and in- telligence, gave her principles to the Union. The two first presidents were 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 something to merit the imputations which had been gratuitously cast on his predecessor. His sedition law was bad ; the prosecutions under it 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 precise- ly defined, must differ in its practical operation, ac- * Carey in the Olive Branch mentions a prosecution under this act, in which a New Jersey man was tried and punished for expressing a desire, that the wadding of a gun discharged on a festival day, " had singed or otherwise inflicted damage on" a certain inexpressible part of Mr Adams ! After such a prosecution, one is only tempted to re- gret that the efficiency of the wish was not equal to its patriotism. POLITICAL PARTIES. 887 [ver of enfor- 3 Union, olution, New ation, and in- Union. The sts, but their asing both in services, the Washington, a the grossest [icceeded him, e imputations 3 predecessor, tions under it jggle he was lore.* irever precise- operation, ac- ion under this actf d for expressing a 'estivalday, "bad inexpressible part iiy tempted to re- I its patriotism. cording 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 administered on democratic principles ; u 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 Federalitits became at length convinced, that the objects for which they had so long strenuously been contend- ing, were utterly unattainable. Farther contention, therefore, was useless. The name of Federalist had become odious to the people ; it was heard no more. No candidate for public favour ventured to come forward and declare his conviction, that a govern- ment, which looked for support to the prejudices of the populace, was necessarily less secure and bene- ficial 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 dif- ferences of opinion were no longer expressed, as to the broad and fundamental doctrines of government. 288 POLITICAL PARTIES. m i St'- '!i;i!ii ^ !i r^A V m "■•'■' wm .(»sj>; I m',.m ■■ ■ Im'' B'^'' tn<%'i ' ^^ 1 1 1 1 i ^BM^ 1.!'! 1 The ascendency of numbers, in opposition to that of property and intelligence, had been firmly estab- lished ; the people, in the widest sense of the term, had been recognised as the only source of power and of honour; and the government, instead of at- tempting to control and regulate the passions and prejudices of the multitude, were forced, by the ne- cessity of their situation, to adopt them as the guide and standard of their policy. They were compelled, in short, to adopt the measures, and profess the prin- ciples most palatable to the people, instead of those which wider knowledge and keener sagacity might indicate as most for their advantage. 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 commu- nity. In every thing connected 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 POLITICAL PARTIES. 289 Buperstructures. Parties there evidently were, but it was not easy to become ii);«stcr of i\w distinctions on which they rested. I asked for the FederalistSi and was told, that like the mammoth and the megathe- rion, they had become extinct, and their principles delighted humanity no longer. I asked for tlie Demo- crats, and I 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 conviction, to be those most in accordance with political wisdom, 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 doubtful hypothesis, I determined to demand infor- mation 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 for- merly adorned by your talents and eloquence, is no longer to be found? Is it, that the progress of VOL. I. 2 b 290 SUPPRESSION OF FEDERALISM. ^ 1^^. h^ i ? events, increased experience, and more deliberate and enlightened views, have induced you to relin- quish 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 — was too striking to be forgotten. " My opinions, and I believe those of the party to which I belonged, are unchanged ; and the course of events in this country has been such, as to impress only a deeper and more thorough conviction of their wis- dom. 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 regarded by his neighbours and fellow-citizens with an evil eye. His words and actions would become the ob- jects 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 AMERICAN UNANIMITY. S91 e deliberate ou to relin- entertaining eld by policy ■in substance )tten. « My rty to which Tse of events ipress only a of their wis- ic feeling, we al professing self excluded the scope of be regarded with an evil come the ob- and he would of a host of And for what and he is to f honourable of expressing his adherence to an obsolete creed, and his persua- sion of the wisdom of certain doctrines of govern- ment, which his judgment assures him, are utterly impracticable in the present condition of society." When the Americans do agree, therefore, their unanimity is really not very wonderful, seeing it proceeds from the observance of the good old rule, of punishing all difference of opinion. The conse- quence, however, has been, not the eradication of federal principles, but a discontinuance of their pro- fession. 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 con ten- tion now is, whether it shall keep that authority with which it is at present understood to be invested. But even this substantial ground of difference is rarely brought prominently forward in debate. The struggle generally is with regard to particular mea- sures, involving many collateral interests, but which are felt to hav^e a tendency to one side or the other. Thus one great subject of discussion relates to the I 1 1 Pi illii ii! I!i If: m 1 (i^lir 292 INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS. power of the goYcrnment to expend a portion of the national funds in internal improvements. In 1830, a hill which had passed the legislature for the con- struction of a national road, was returned with the veto of the President. By the articles of the consti- tution, the federal legislature are invested with the power of *' estahlishing post-offices and post-roads." The douht is, whether the word establish gives the privilege to construct, or is to be understood as sim- ply granting authority to convert into post- roads, thoroughfares already in existence. A principle of great importance is no douht involved in this ques- tion, 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 leading 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 lortion of the ;s. In 1830, for the con- led with the >f the consti- ted with the post-roads." ish gives the Btood as sim- post- roads, L principle of in this ques- ;r the federal any general iting puhlic ntage. The )t materially 3, which is a ites the chief 3kson is the i' Clay, his '. The latter able portion POLITICAL DIFFERENCES. 293 of the Central States ; the former by the Southern and Western. There can be no doubt, I imagine, that the Fede- ralists, 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 proselytes are entirely collateral. They urge the general expediency of such a power ; the impos- sibility of inducing the legislatures of the different States to concur heartily in any one project for the benefit of the whole ; the necessity of unity of exe- cution, as well as unity of design ; and the probabi- lity, that if such improvements are not undertaken by the federal government, they will never be exe- cuted at all. Of course, such questions as the Tariff, and that of 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 them- selves under the same banner. Thus, a candidate for ■f\ 294 POLITICAL DIFFERENCES. H mm >■ I., '■>:.■ ! Congress is often supported 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 commerce. A new road may open a new market ; the deepening of a harbour may change the whole aspect of a province ; and those, who by their local position or pursuits are more immediately interested in these benefits, maybe pardoned, if, on an occasion of such moment, they lay aside their principles, and act on the nar- rower 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 theo- retical principle. In the representative of each dis- trict, some peculiarity of creed is commonly necessary to secure the support of his constituents. Con- formity on leading points of opinion is not enough ; there is almost always some topic, however uncon- nected with politics, on which coincidence of senti- ment is demanded. I may quote a striking instance of this in the State of New York. !!P^: MASONRY. 295 ring on many Commercial n of internal aerally bring lerce. Anew opening of a f a province ; L or pursuits lese benefits, uch moment, ; on the nar- Eidvantage. extent as the 3t number of tion of theo- of each dis- ilynecessary ents. Con- not enough ; ever uncon- ice of senti- Ing instance Some years ago a man of the name of Morgan, who wrote a book revealing the secrets of Free- Masonry, was forcibly seized in his own dwelling- house, carried oiF, and murdered. Of the latter fact there is no direct proof, but it is impossible to account for the circumstances on any other supposi-^ tion. He is known to have been conveyed to the neighbourhood 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 outrage. The public 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 two in- dividuals. They were brought to trial. A ma- jority 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 in- flame the public indignation, already strongly ex- 296 MASONS AND ANTI-MASONS. iilP'l tlijii ! I'li ! # 1! 1; '',V ' ill 1^ 1 i '''i I 14.-, I Hi'- cited by the original outrage. The principles of this secret society had not only caused crime to be com- mitted) 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 conse- quences to be tolerated in a Christian community ? A large portion of the people banded together in hostility to all secret and affiliated societies. They piX)nounced them dangerous and unconstitutional, and pledged themselves to exert their utmost efforts for their suppression. The Masons, on the other hand, were a widely ramified and powerful body, embracing in their number nearly half the population of the State. Their constitution gave them the advantage of unity of purpose and of action. The keenness of contest, of course, excited the passions of both parties. The pub- lic press ranged itself on different sides ; every can- didate for office was compelled to make confession of his creed on this important subject, and to fight un- der the banner of one party or the other ; and the MASONS AND ANTI-MASONS. 297 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; hut the struggle is still carried on with vigour, and there is no douht that the votes in the next presidential election will he materially affected hy it. Indeed the mania on this suhject 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 Englishman, 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 doc- trines of government. He finds general opinions modified by local interests, and seeks in vain to dis- cover some single and definite question which may serve as a touchstone of party distinctions. It is only by acute and varied observation, and by conversa- tion with enlightened men of all parties, that he is i;:i;i '7 >i.' m 298 DIFFICULTY OF UNDERSTANDIMa il 1 r '. ■i enabled to make due allowance for the yariations 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 compre- hend thuii character requires a long apprentice- ship of philosophical observation, and more both of patience and liberality than are usually compatible with the temper and prejudices of foreign travel- lers. This is a mistake. The peculiarities of the Americans lie more on the surface than those of any people I have ever known. Their features are broad and marked; there exists little individual eccentricity of character, and it is in their poli- tical relations alone that they are difficult to be understood. One fact, however, 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 different in spirit. It was undoubtedly It ra POLITICAL DIFFERENCES IN AMERICA. 299 rariations of ately of the ; they are a to compre- apprentice- more both of Y compatible reign travel- irities of the lan those of r features are le individual 1 their poli- fieult to be 'essed by all ,ic principles Bn very great, aited States, lerican, who aow, though in 1789, is undoubtedly the wish of Washington and Hamilton to counter- poise, as much as circumstances would permit, 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 how low, by continued increase of pressure, it is yet to descend, would require a prophet of some sagacity to foretell. 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 opera- tive 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 neces- sity 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 news- papers, and may be read on half the walls of New York. Their first postulate is " equal and uni- versal EDUCATION." It is falsc, they say, to main- 300 SOCflETY OF WORRIES. I ,^l! 'il; tain that tliere is at present no privileged order, no practical aristocracy, in a country where distinctions of education are permitted. That portion of the popu- lation 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 State. As matters are now ordered in the United States, these are distributed exclusively among one small class of the community, while thoro who con- stitute the real strength of the country, have barely a voice in the distribution of those loaves and fishes, which they are not permitted to enjoy. There does exist then — they ai'gue — an aristocracy of the most odious kind, — an aristocracy of knowledge, educa- . tion, and refinement, which is inconsistent with the true democratic principle of absolute equality. They pledge themselves, therefore, to exert every effort, mental and physical, for the abolition of this flagrant injustice. They proclaim it to the world as a nui- sance 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 ;:1lli THEIR OBJECTS AND PRINCIPLES. 301 States shall receive the same degree of education, and start fair in the competition for the honours and the ofBces of the state. As it is of course impossible — and these men knoiv 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 limif their views to the mental degradation of their country, are in fact the mode- rates of the party. There are others who go still further, and boldly advocate the introduction of an Agrarian law, and a periodical division of pro- perty. These unquestionably constitute the extreme gauche of the Worky Parliament, but still they only follow out the principles of their less violent neigh- bours, and eloquently dilate on the justice and pro- priety of every individual being equally supplied with food and clothing ; on the monstrous iniquity of one man riding in his carriage while another walks on foot, and after his drive discussing a bottle of 803 POLITICAL PROSPECTS m I ill vi&i I f. ! 1 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 hare 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 im- mediate alarm. In 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 dense, and the supply of labour shall equal, or exceed the demand for it, the strength of this party must be enormously augmented. 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 as it proceeds, until at length it comes down thundering with the force and desolation of an avalanche. This event may be distant, but it is not the less certain ci* that account. It is nothing to say, that the immense extent of fertile territory yet to be OF THE UNITED STATES. SOS rs are shame- »uro element. leither would would have centuries of nor do I say ' York, is yet to create im- rever, for the ;e is strongly as population r labour shall rength of this Their ranks the idle and »whall it will Beds, until at the force and i not the less to say, that ry 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 American 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 which emigration will be directed must of necessity be more distant. The pressure of population there- fore will continue to augment in the Atlantic States, and the motives to removal become gradually weaker. Indeed, at the present rate of extension, the circle of occupied territory must before many generations be so ec^rmously enlarged, that emigration will be con- fined wholly to the Western States. Then, and not till then, will come the trial of the American consti- tution ; and until that trial has been passed, it is mere nonsense to appeal to its stability. Nor is this period of trial apparently very distant. At the present ratio of increase, the population of the United States doubles itSelf in about twenty- four years, so that in half a century it will amount !»! r \ i\ r '■ i!li \ 304 POLITICAL PROSPECTS iti: 'It to about fifty millions, of which ten millions will be slaves, or at all events a degraded caste, cut off from all the rights and privileges of citizenship. Before this period it is very certain that the pressure of the population, 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 neces- saries of life must be prodigiously enhanced. The poorer and more suffering class, will want the means of emigrating to a distant region of unoccupied ter- ritory. Poverty and misery will be abroad ; the great majority of the people will be without pro- perty 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 anticipate security of property, his conclusion must be founded, I suspect, rather on the wishes of a sanguine temperament, than on any rational cal- culation of probabilities. It is the present policy of the government to en- courage and stimulate the premature growth of a manufacturing population. In this it will not be OF THE UNITED STATES. 305 lions will be cut off from liip. Before assure of the c, especially t. The price )f the neces- anced. The nt the means occupied ter- abroad ; the without pro- 1 sinews with will choose ire of priva- ny man can elusion must wishes of a rational cal- iment to en- growth of a will not be successful, but no man can contemplate the vast internal resources of the United States, — the varied productions of their soil, — the unparalleled extent of river communication, — the inexhaustible stores of coal and iron which are spread even on the surface, — and doubt that the Americans arc destined to be- come a great manufacturing nation. Whenever in- crease 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 United • States will then meet England on fair terms in every market of the world, and in many branches of in- dustry at least, will very probably attain an un- questioned superiority. Huge manufacturing cities will spring up in various quarters of the Union, the population will congregate in 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 particular ma- nufacture, and yet this demand will of necessity be liable to perpetual fluctuation. When the pendulum vibrates in one direction, there will be an influx of wealth and prosperity t when it vibrates in the VOL. I. 2 c \ :! X ■iin \fB\ % 306 APPROACHING TRIAL 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 multitudes of bread, who but a month be- fore 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 military force to maintain civil order, and protect property ; and to what quarter, I should be glad to know, is the rich man to look for security, either of person or for- tune ? There will be no occasion however for convulsion or violence. The Worky 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 necessary that a majority of the federal legis- lature 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 coun- OF THE AMERICAN CONSTITUTION. 307 teracting 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 suffrage, the diffusion of sound knowledge is always essential to the public security. It unfortunately happens, however, that in proportion as poverty in- creases, not only the means but the desire of instruc- tion are necessarily diminished. The man whose whole energies are required for the supply of his bodily wants, has neither time nor inclination to concern himself about his mental deficiencies, and the result of human ex{)erience does not warrant us in reckoning on the restraint of individual cupi- dity, where no obstacle exists to its gratification, by any deliberate calculation of its consequences on so- 308 APPROACHING TRIAL 1 ■ ciety. There can be no doubt, that if men could be made wise enough to act on an enlarged and enlight- ened view of their own interest, government might be dispensed with altogether; but what statesman would legislate on the probability of such a condi- tion of society, or rely on it as a means of future safety ? The general answer, however, is, that the state of things which I have ventured to describe, is very distant. " It is enough," they say, ** for each ge- neration to look to itself, and we leave it to our de- scendants some centuries hence to take care of their interests as we do of ours. We enjoy all man- ner of freedom and security under our present con- stitution, 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 reasoners comfort themselves by imagining ; but if the question be con- ceded that democracy necessarily leads to anarchy and spoliation, it does not seem that the mere length of road to be travelled is a point of much import- ance. This, of course, would vary according to the OF THE AMERICAN CONSTITUTION. 309 m could be nd enlight- aent might statesman sh a condi- s of future the state of ibe. is very or each ge- t to our de- lare of their y all man- tresent con- icern about " I cannot i of trial is ers comfort tion be con- to anarchy mere length ich import- rding to the peculiar ciiciimstances 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 generation or two longer/^but the termination is the same. The doubt regards time, not destination. At present the United States are perhaps more safe from revolutionary contention than any other country in the world. But this safety consists in one circumstance alcne. The great majority of the people are possessed of property ; have what is called a stake in the hedge ; and arc therefore, by interest, opposed to all measures which may tend to its inse- curity. It is for such a condition of society that the present constitution was framed ; and could this great bulwark of prudent government, be rendered as permanent as it is effective, there could be no as- signable limit to the prosperity of a people so favour- ed. 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 it ■: -It w 310 DIFFICULTY OF UNDERSTANDING THE of tho people will then consist of men without pro* perty 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 physical 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 government as being established by expe- rience, till this trial has been overpast. Forty years are no time to test 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 maybe 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 dif- ficult to speak, because it is difficult to ascertain with any precision, the principles on which it is found- ed. I think it was a saying of Lord Eldon, that there was no act of Parliament so carefully worded I id, 1^ THE CHARACTER OP THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 311 without pro- ate pressure eat struggle le one side reason, jus- I weapons of ; the hands im. At all ility of the ed by expe- Forty years if I may so i immediate nd the evils ave hitherto iding demo- States than ter it is dif- sertain with It is found- Eldon, that illy worded that he could not drive a coach and six through it. The American lawyers have been at least equally successful with regard to their federal constitution. No man appears precisely to understand what it is, but all agree that it is something 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 toll you something very different 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 governaiont he administers with so much honour to himself and advantage to his country, and General Jackson will tell you that it is a government of consolidation^ pos- sessing 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 confederativc, 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 w. Ml- i if; B . I 312 SOURCES OF FUTURE DISCORD. apparently unintelligible constitution, and they wilt probably include in their number the privilege of taxing at discretion the commerce of the country, and expending the money so raised in projects of internal improvement. 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 proceeds altogether on a false inter- pretation ; 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 discord are plentifully scattered throughout the Union. Men of different habits, different inte- rests, different modes of thought ; the inhabitants of different climates, and agreeing only in mutual anti- pathy, are united under a common government, whose powers are so indefinite as to afford matter for interminable and rancorous disputation. Does such iii:;. SOURCES OF FUTURE DISCORD. 313 a government bear the impress of permanence ? Or does it not rather seem, in its very structure, to con- centrate 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 interest in the governed. There may possibly be reasoners who are prepared to an- swer thiu 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 peculiar wants and inte- rests 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 inte- rests are the same ; that they are exposed to the same dangers ; solicitous for the same objects, parta- king 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 dismemberment. The population in such circum- stances forms one uniform and firmly-concatenated VOL. I. 2d f\ '■» \ 314 DISADVANTAGES OF THE UNION. whole, whereas a Union on other principles re- sembles that of a bag of sand, in which 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 productions of their soil. They are animated by no sentiment of brotherhood and affinity. Nature has divided them by a distance of two thousand miles ; the interests of one are neither understood nor cared for in the other. In short, they are connected by nothing but a clumsy and awkward piece of machi- nery most felicitously contrived 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, which is the present curse of the whole Union. I remember, when at Washington, stating my im- pressions on this subject to a distinguished mem- OPINIONS IN REGARD TO IT. 315 ber of the House of Representatives, who admitted that the ends of good government would most pro- bably be better and more easily attainable were the Union divided into several republics, firmly united for purposes of defence, but enjoying complete legis- lative independence. *' And yet," he continued, " the scheme could not possibly succeed. 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 indivi- dual. 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 gentle- men, in particular, seemed to regard the federal go- vernment as the ark of their safety from civil war and bloodshed. In such circumstances it might cha- ritably 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 m Mi 4 S16 PROSPECTS OF THE CONSTITUTION. discover that its external glitter covered nothing but wind. It may split to-morrow on tlio Tariff ques- tion, or it may go on, till, like a dropsical patient, it dies of mere extension, when its remains will proba- bly bo 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 pre- valence of the doctrine of nullification, it is impos- sible it can ever gain much strength or vigour. If each State is to have the privilege of sitting in judgment on the legality of its measures, the range of its legislation must necessarily be very con- lined. It will puzzle the ingenuity of American statesmen, to discover some policy which will prove palatable to the various members of the Union, and which all interpreters of the Constitution will con- fess to be within the narrow limits of its power. Let us suppose in England that every county as- serted the privilege of nullifying, when it thought DANGERS WHICH MENACE IT. 317 proper, the acts of the British Parliament. Leiccs- tershire would summon her population in conven- tion to resist any reduction of the foreign wool- duty. Kent and Surry would nullify the hop- duty. Lay a rude finger on kelp, and a distant threat of separation would he heard from the Ork- neys. Dorset and Wilts would insist on the conti- nuance of the corn- laws, and woe to the Chancellor of the Exchequer who should venture to raise the Highland war-slogan by an impost on horned cattle ! Yet in Great Britain there exist no provincial jea- lousies, 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 dissolution of the Union, I may venture to specify one. The influence of each State in the election of the President is in the exact ratio of the amount of its population. In this respect the increase in some States is far greater than in others. The unrivalled advantages of New York have alrwtdy given it the lead, and the same causes must necessarily still conti- nue to augment its comparative superiority. Ohio — 818 DANGERS WHICH MENACE a State also rich in natural advantages — has recent- ly 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, inde- pendently of the other twenty-one States. Will the States thus virtually excluded, tamely submit to this, or will they appeal to Congress for an amend- ment of the constitution ? There can be no prospect of redress from this quarter. The same superiority 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 Representa- tives, and no amendment of the constitution can take place without the concurrence of two-thirds of both houses. Besides, the principle of election by nume- rical 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 influ- ence of the federal government may be wielded by three States, and that whenever these choose to com- THE DISRUPTION OP THE UNION. 319 bine, 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 Ame- rican people, who imagine that the great majority of the States would tolerate being reduced to the condition of political ciphers. Their jealousy of each o !,her is very great, and there can be no doubt, that should the contingency here 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 apprehension of some interfe- rence with the condition of the slave population, which makes the people of the Southern States so anxious to narrow the power of the general govern- ment. At all events, it will be singular indeed if the seeds of civil broil, disseminated in a soil so admi- rably fitted to bring them to maturity, should not Ih: ^;'>^-^ 320 DANGER OF UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE. eventually yield an abundant harvest of animosity and dissension.^ After much — I hope impartial and certainly patient — observation, it does appear to me, that uni- versal suffrage is the rock on which American free- dom is most likely to suffer shipwreck. The intrinsic evils of the system are very great, and its adoption in the United States was the more monstrous, be- cause 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 rewarded, obtain a qualification of some sort. He is evidently unworthy of the right of suffrage, and by every wise legislature will be debarred from * The opinions I have ventured to express on this subjeirt are by no means singular. They are those of a large 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 be disturbed, and its peace jeopardised by a struggle for power among themselves, it wiH be upon this very subject of the choice of a President. It is the question that is eventually to attest the goodness and try the strength of the constitution." And many other authorities might be adduced, were the subject one on which mere authority could have much weight. II THE FOLLY OF ITS ADOPTION. 321 its exercise. In densely peopled countries the test of property in reference to moral qualities is fallible, — perhaps too fallible to be relied on with much confidence. In the United States it is unerring, or at least the possible exceptions are so few, and must arise from circumstances so peculiar, that it is altogether unnecessary they should find any place in the calculations of a statesman. Bdt American legislators have thought proper to cast away this lit 'stimable advantage. Seeing no immediate dan- > 1 the utmost extent of suffrage, they were content to remain blind to the future. They took every precaution that 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 be violated by the former. American protection, like Irish reciprocity, was all on one side. It was withheld where most needed ; it was profusely lavished where there was no risk of danger. They put a sword in the hand of one com- batant, and took the shield from the arm of the other. The leader who gave the first and most powerful Si Br^\ iPi !|i 322 CHARACTER OP JEFFERSON. impulse to the democratic tendencies of the constitu- tion was unquestionably Jefferson. His countrymen call him great, but in truth lie was great only when compared 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 aristocrat, 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 coul dhave been eclipsed, or his political principles successfully opposed. Adams he encountered and overthrew. 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 undisputed lords of the ascendant. We seek in vain in the writings of Jefferson for indications 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 zeal- ous partisan of opinions, which no subsequent ex- CHARACTER OF JEFFERSON. 323 pericnce could induce him to relinquish or modify. During by far the greater portion of his life, the in- tellect of Jefferson remained stationary. Time passed on ; generations were gathered to their fathers ; the dawn of liberty on the continent of Europe had ter- minated in a bloody sunset ; but the shadow on the dial of his mind remained unmoved. In his corre- spondence we find him to the very last, complacently putting forth the stale and flimsy dogmas, which, when backed by the guillotine, had passed for unan- swerable in the Jacobin coteries of the Revolution. The mind of Jefferson was essentially unpoetical. In his whole works there is no trace discoverable of imaginative power. His benevolence was rather to- pical than expansive. It reached France, but never ventured across the channel. Had Napoleon 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 desolate fields. Her blood, her sufferings, her tears, the glorious memory of her past achieve- ments, would in him have excited no feeling of com- passickiate regret. Jefferson had little enthusiasm h «« 1 < { III 324 CllAUACTER OF .TEFFERSOX. is! C'l' of cliarncter. Nor was lie rich in tlioso warm cha- rities and affections, in which great niinik are rarely deficient. Ho has been truly called a good hater. His resentments were not vehement and fiery ehnl- litions, burning fiercely for a time, and then subsi- ding into indifference or dislike. Tliey were cool, fiondlike, and ferocious ; unsparing, undying, unap- pcaseable. The enmities of most men terminate with the death of their object. It was the delight of Jef- ferson 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 reputation, will attach an indelible tarnish to his own memory. He never forgave the superior confidence which Wash- ington reposed in the wisdom and integrity of Ha- milton. The only amiable feature in the whole life of Jefferson was his reconciliation with Adams, and there the efficient link was community of hatred. Both detested Hamilton. The moral character of Jefferson was repulsive. Continually puling about liberty, equality, and the degrading curse of slavery, he brought his own chil- MADISON — MUNIIOE. n 325 (li'oii to tlio hammer, and mado money of Iiih de- baucheries. Even at his death, Iio did not manumit his numerous offspring, hut left thcm^ soul and body, to degradation, and the rurt-vvhip. A daughter of Jefferson was sold some years ago, by public auction, at New Orleans, and purchased by a society of gen- tlemen, wlio wished to testify, by her liberation, their admiration of tlie statesman, " Who dreamt of freedom In a slave's embrace." This single line gives more insight to the character of the man, than whole volumes of panegyric. It will outlive 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 indis- tinguishiible 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, Lii II :! Ill I I 326 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. composed of men of different opinions, and the result of their conjunction was a sort of hybrid policy, half federalist and half democratic, which gave satisfac- tion to no party. At the termination of Mr Munroo's second period of office, Mr John Quincy Adams became his succes- sor, by a sort of electioneering juggle which occa- sioned a universal sentiment of disgust. What the principles of this statesman were, or arc, seems a matter not very intelligible 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 expira- tion of four years Mr Quincy Adams was turned out, to the 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 will ever again be promoted to any office of political trust and im- portance. General Jackson, the present President, has always been an eminent member of the democratic party. His accession to office however, united to the expe- rience of a long life, is understood to have induced a l:i I GENERAL JACKSON. 327 change in some of his opinlonH, and a modification of others. His policy is as moderate as the circum- stances of the times will permit. On the Tariff ques- tion his opinions are not precisely 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 present elevation, to the reputation he acquired in the successful defence of New Orleans. In truth, I believe his popularity is rather military than poli- tical, since even those — and they are many — who dislike him as a politician, extol him as the first general of the agej whose reputation beggars the fame of the most celebrated modern strategists. It is excusable to smile at this, but scarcely fair to visit it with the 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, why should we object to the display of a little harmless vanity, or demand that our suc- cessful opponents should measure the extent of their il^ Ml ' 328 COLONEL BURR. Yi- 1' > iHi j! ill li'jl I! achiovement 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 polities of his country. I allude to the cele- brated Colonel Burr, formerly Vice-President of the United States, and who, 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 misfortune is attri- butable the entire ruin of Colonel Burr's prospects as a statesman. Hamilton was admired by all par- ties, 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 gene- ral 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 popularity was gone for ever. 3 COLONEL BURn. S29 t: Subsequently he was concerned in some conspi- racy to sieze on part of Mexico^ oi' which he was to become sovereign, by tlie style and title — I suppose — of Aaron the First, King or Emperor of the Texas. Colonel Burr was likewise accused of treason to the commonwealth, in attempting to overthrow the constitution by force of arms. But a veil of mys- tery 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 armament 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, materials 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 sufficient to establish his innocence in the opinion of his countrymen. He was assailed by hatred and VOL. I. 2e 330 VISIT TO COLONEL BURR. ( i V »1 ! Si;! I! i !;ii H execration ; liis 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 ho attracted the jealous observation of the ministry, and his correspondence with France being more fre- quent than was quite agreeable, and of a cast some- what too political, he received a polite invitation 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 pro- fessional knowledge, still gain him some employ- ment as a consulting lawyer. A friend of mine at New York enquired whether I should wish an interview with this distinguished person. I immediately answered in the affirmative, and a note was addressed to Colonel Burr, request- ing permission to introduce me. The answer con- taiucd a polite assent, and indicated an hour when his avocations would permit his having sufficient leisure for the enjoyment of conversation. At the time appointed, my friend conveyed me to a house ii VISIT TO COLONEL DURR^ 831 in one of the poorer streets of the city. The Colonel received us on tlie landing place, with the manners of a finished courtier, and led the way to his little library, which — judging from the appCfirance of the volumes — was principally furnished wiJh workt; connected with the law. In person, Colonel Burr is diniinti tivi:-; a.id i. was much struck with the resemblance hh ^)eur8 to the late Mr Percival. His physiognntny is expres- sive of strong sagacity. The eye Veen, peiietiating', and deeply set; the forehead broad and promhiOrtt ; the mouth small, but disfigured by the uDgraoeful form of the lips; and the other featureE, tiiuugh certainly not coarse, were irreconcilabl'i with any theory of beauty. On the whole, I have raroly scon a more remarkable countenance. Its expression wa iS.e injurious influence of solitary confine- raef)', T as rather anxious to have an opportunity of conversing with a few of the prisoners. To this no objection was made, and I was accordingly usher- ed into the cell of a black shoemaker, convicted of theft, whom 1 found very comfortably seated at his trade. I asked him many questions, which he an- swered with great cheerfulness. He had been con- fined — I think — for eighteen months, yet this long period of separation from his fellow-creatures hud occasioned no derangement of his functions, bodily or mental. I likewise conversed with two other *>:■;■ m- ; ' T I Si! 350 DEFECTS OF THE PENITENTIARY. I i I i prisoners, and the result of my observations cer- tairly was the conviction, that solitary confinement, when associated with labour, is by no means liable to the objections which I have often lieard urged to its adoption as a punisliment. I have likewise the assurance of the warder, that during his whole expe- rience, he has not known a single instance of the discipline adopted being found prejudicial to health, either of mind or body. There is undoubtedly much that is admirable in this Penitentiary, but I am not sure that either the plan or the practice of the establishment is so perfect as to admit of no improvement. In the first place, I cannot but think that the Panopticon principle is on the whole preferable. Facility of supervision is always important, and there is no point in the pre- sent prison from which the keeper can command a general and complete view, either of the cells or of the exercise yards. The central obseivatory com- mands only the corridors. In the second place, it strikes me as a defect that there should be no en- trance to the cells from the corridors, by which a far more ready and convenient access would be ob- DEFECTS OP THE PENITENTIARY. 351 taincd. There is also a defect in the construction of the exercise courts, in whicli it is quite possible for the adjoining prisoners to liold conversation. There is no chapel attached to this establishment, and when divine service is performed, the clergy- man takes his station at the head of the corridors ; the apertures communicating with the cells are thrown open, and his voice I am assured, is dis- tinctly audible, even by the most distant prisoner. Strange to say, however — and I confess thr.t in a state so religious as Pennsylvania, the fact struck me with astonishment — morning and evening prayers are unknown in the Penitentiary. Surely, it is both wholesome and fitting that the d^ys of these suffer- ing criminals should be begun and ended by an ap- peal to the mercy of that Maker, whose laws they have offended. It is true, that divine service is per- formed onr e every Sunday, but this will scarcely be held sufficient, either by the moralist who simply regards tho interest of society in the reformation of a criminal, or by him whose philanthropy is connect- ed with ilie higher hopes and motives of religion. On the whole, I am inclined to prefer the system 'k I ^ t 1 1' •li 352 COMPARISON OF SOLITARY CONFINEMENT of solitary confinement to that adopted in the pri- sons at Auburn and Charleston. The former obvi- ates all necessity for punishment of any kind, beyond that inflicted by the execution of the sentence. Whatever be his sufferings, the prisoner has the dis- tinct knowledge that they are not arbitrary or extra- judicial. Even amidst the solitude of his cell, he feels that he is in one sense a free man. He undergoes the sentence of the hiw, but he is not dependent on the capricious discretion of those by whom he is surrounded. In Charleston each prisoner knows himself to be a slave. His punishment is in truth unlimited, for its only measure is the conscience of his gaoler, an unknown aiid indeterminate quantity. There is nothing humiliating in solitary confine- ment. The interests of society are protected by the removal of the criminal, while the new circumstances in which he is placed are precisely the most favour- able to moral improvement. • It ip the numerous temptations of the world, the scope which it affords for the gratification of strong passion, that overpower the better principles implanted in the heart of the most depraved of mankind. Remove these tempta- WITH THE CHARLESTON SYSTEM. 353 tions, place the criminal in a Rituation where there are no warring influences to mislead his judgment ; let him receive religious instruction, and be taught the nature and extent of his moral obligations, and when, after such preparation, he is left to reflection, and communion with his own conscience, all that human agency can effect, has probably been done for his reformation. Solitary confinement contributes to all this. It throws the mind of the criminal back upon itself. It forces him to think who never thought before. It removes all objects which can stimulate the evil passions of his nature. It restores the prisoner to society, if not " a wiser and a better man," at least undegraded by a course of servile submission. His punishment has been that of a man, not of a brute. He has suffered privation, but not indignity. He has submitted to the law, and to the law alone, and what- ever debasement may still attach to his character, is the offspring of his crime, not of its penalty. The other system is far less favourable I should imagine to moral improvement. The gaoler must VOL. I. 2 a 5:- E '>i m I \w MHjl. Ill 1 ! 'i: 1 354 COMPARISON OF SOLITARY CONFINEMENT necessarily appear to tlio prisoners in the liglit of an arbitrary tyrant. Ho is .in object of fear and hatred. His inflictions are accompanied by none of the so- lemnities of justice, and they arc naturally followed by smothered rancour and desire of revenge. Even where there is no abuse of authority, it is impossible for those subjected to it, to appreciate the motives for its rigid exercise. They cannot be supposed to discriminate between severity and cruelty. All this is unfortunate. The character of the pri- soners is rendered callous to shame, while their evil passions are in a state of permanent excitement. They are taught obedience like spaniels, and by the same means. They are forced down to the very lowest point of human debasement. Never again shall these men know the dignity of self-respect; never again can they feel themselves on a level witli their fellow-men. Human endurance can extend no further than they have carried it, and it were well that American legislators should remember, that it is easy to degrade the freeman, but impossible to elevate the slave. One great advantage belongs to the Philadelphia 3 Hil^ NEMENT WITH THE CHARLESTON SYSTEM. 355 system. A prisoner on being discharged enters the worhl without danger of recognition, and thus enjoys the benefit of starting with a fair character. If his confinement has been long, disease and the gibbet have probably disposed of the great majority of his former companions in crime, and in a country like tlie United States, nothing but honest industry is wanting to the attainment of independence. But a convict discharged from a prison like those of Charleston and Auburn, must cei'tinue through life a marked man. His face is known to thousands, and go where he will — unless he fly altogether from the haunts of men — the story of his past life will follow him. Excluded from communion with the more respectable portion of the community, he will pro- bably again seek his associates among the dissolute. His former course of crime will then be renewed, and all hope of reformation will be at an end for ever. It is impossible, however, to praise too highly that active benevolence which in America takes so deep an interest in the reformation of the objects of punishment. lu their ameliorations of prison dis- cipline, the people of this country have unquestion- 350 UNIVERSITY OP PENNSYLVANIA. ' l,!i;! 9 ably taken the load of Europe. In old OHtabllHlied comninnittes the progress of improvement is nccos- sarily sh)\v, and tliere are dinieultieH to be ovoreomo which are fortunately unknown on this side of the Atlantie. Let tlie Ameriouis, therefore, continue as they have be<»;un, to lead the way in this important department of practical philanthropy. IJy doing so, they will earn a distinction for their country more honourable than could result from the highest emi- nence in arts, or achievements in arms. 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 according to the most aj)proved principles of modern science. Till within a few years, how- ever, 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 Oxford or Cam- bridge. The statutes were revised by a board of \ At.. V4 iiiii t& .1 UNIVKIISITY or rF.NNSYLVANIA. 357 tniBtocfl iip|)<»inte(l for tliu piirpoKO. Tlio HyHtom of ediicalioii whs corrected and ciilargef knowledge in shall direct the ; from the report ry University of icribed course of the public, that jfound and criti' tensive acquaint of mathematical istry, combined comprehended r, loffic, rhetoric, istianity. This years!'* Had the number of years to be devoted to the acquisition of this vast mass of knowledge heen forty instead o^four, the promise of the Board of Trustees might still have been objectionable on the score of hyperbole. In Europe no body of gentlemen con- nected with any public seminary durst have ven- tured on such a statement. 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 pass- age of Caesar or Virgil, and — by the help of the lexi- con — 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 metaphysics, that he shall even under- stand the philosophy of Kant or Cousin, but simply that he shall have acquired enough to constitute, in i; iMlii li 1 1 I 1 IN I ! I !i I I! ' II ! 360 IlEMARKS ON EDUCATION. the eyes of the American public^ " an extensive acquaintance with the different branches of mathe- matical 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 be nothing better than impudent quackery, becomes the language of sober truth in another. The same terms carry different meiinings on different sides of the water, and the cause of the discrepancy is too obvious to be mistaken. Having alluded to this sub- ject, I would willingly be permitted to offer a few observations on the interesting 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 philosophy and the higher literature ? The termination of the Revolutionary war left the United States with a population graduating in civil- isation 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 ! i STATE OF LITERATURE. 361 education as was suited to their circumstances. In a country to whicli abject poverty was happily a stranger, there existed few obstacles to the general diffusion of elementary instruction. 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 business of life. To ttie 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 number a sin[,le scholar, in the higher acceptation of the term, and had every book in her whole terri- tory been 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 without the necessary discipline ; and had their pre- tensions been greater, it is very certain that such poor VOL. I. 2 H \^1 It f i^ H It H ii 3C2 ERRORS IN REGARD TO EDUCATION. and distant establishments could offer no inducement to foreigners of high acquirement to exchange ** the ampler ether, the diviner air," of their native uni- versities, for the atmosphere of Yale or Harvard. At all events, the Americans had no desire to draw our men of letters from their learned retreats. In the condition of society I have described, it was im- possible 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 consciousness, but hy the amount of available know- ledge which it enables him to bring to the common busi- ness of life. The consequences of this error, when participated in by a whole nation," have been most pernicious. It has unquestionably 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 DUCATION. Ifer no inducement to exchange ** the their native uni- Sfale or Harvard, no desire to draw lied retreats. In cribed, it was ira- ^ross any portion 3 present day, the •tates is estimated, f the student, in ing his taste, and e of thought and f available know- the common busi- vhen participated st pernicious. It > perpetuate the ed. It has done uses, in depriving during source of EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY. 863 national greatness. Nor can we hope that the evil will bo removed, until the vulgar and unworthy sophistry which has imposed on the judgment, even of the most intelligent Americans, shall cease to in- fluence some wiser and unborn generation. The education of the clergy differed 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, there was not to be found a single copy of the works of the Fathers. But this mattered not. Pro- testantism is never very amenable to authority, and least of all when combined with democracy. Neither the pastors nor their flocks were 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 were suited to the measure of his taste and know- ledge. It was considered enough that the clergy could read the Bible in their vernacular tongue, and ex- pound its doctrines to the satisfaction of a congrega- tion, not more learned than themselves. To the pre- sent day, in one only of the colleges has any provision 364 WANT OF BOOKS I m ,. been made for clerical education. Many of the reli- gious sects, however, have established theological academics, in which candidates for the Ministry may, doubtless, acquire such accomplishment as is deemed necessary for the satisfactory discharge of their high function.* In short, the state of American society is such as to afford no leisure for any thing so unmarketable as abstract knowledge. For the pursuit of such studies, it is necessary that the proficient should " fit au- dience find though few." He must be able to calcu- * The American Almnnnc for 1831 contains a list of all the theo- logical establishments in the United States, with the number of stu- dents at each seminary, and of the volumes contained in its library. According to this document, the whole number of theological stu- dents is 657. The combined aggregate of volumes in possession of all the institutions is 'ISjiSO. The best furnished library in the list is that of the theological department of Yale College, which con- tains 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 thirty-three works on theology. But this is not all. Seven of these establishments possess no libraries at all, so that the earning of the students must come by inspiration. Until the year 1808, no seminaries for religious instruction appear to have existed in the United States. One was founded in that year, another in 1812, but the great majority are of far more recent origin. OPINIONS OF JEFFERSON. 865 late on sympathy at least, if not encouragement, and assuredly lie 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. He saw that the elements of knowledge were diffused every where, but that all its higher fruits were wanting. He endeavoured, not only to rouse his countrymen to a sense of their intellectual condition, but to pro- vide the means by which it might be improved. With this view he founded a university in his native State, and his last worldly anxieties were devoted to its advancement. Jefferson felt strongly, that while philosophy and literature were excluded from the fair objects of professional ambition, and the United States continued to be depend "^nt for all advances in knowledge on importations from Europe, she was wanting in the noblest element of national greatness. Though the commerce of mind be regulated by loftier principles than more vulgar trafEc, it should consist, unquestionably, of exchange of some kind. To receive, and not to give, t ; I- I' i iilH li 366 CONDITION OF AMERICAN SOCIETY 18 to subsist on charity ; to Lc 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 com- munity 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 am- plitude and diffusion to its efforts. In America there exists but one, and the impulse it awakens is, of course, violent in proportion to its concentration. Jefferson, therefore, failed in this great object, to- wards the accomplishment of which his anxious efforts were directed. As a politician, he exercised a far greater influence over the national mind than any other statesman his 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 insuperable barrier to success. ^f SOCIETY UNFAVOURABLE TO LITERATURE. 367 lute and changeling I am aware, it will bo urged, that the state of things I have described is merely transient, and that when population shall become more dense, and in- creased competition shall render commerce and agri- culture less lucrative, the pursuits of science and literature will engross their due portion of the national talent. I hope it may be so, but yet it can- not be disguised, that there hitherto has been no visible approximation towards such a condition of society. In the present generation of Americans, I can detect no symptom of improving taste, or in- creasing elevation of intellect. On the contrary, the fact has been irresistibly forced on my convic- tion, that they are altogether inferior to those, whose place, in the course of nature, they are soon destined to occupy. Compared with their fathers, I have no hesitation in pronouncing the younger portion of the richer classes to be less liberal, less enlightened, less observant of the proprieties 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 prede- cessor. Each successive crop— if I may so write — m '1 »> tti. I M > I 11 I I il i| S68 PROSPECTS IN REGARD TO LITERATURE. of legislators, is marked by increase of knowledge " and enlargement of thought. The standard of acquirement necessary to attain distinction in public life, is now confeRscdly 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, tbere are no giants in our days, but this may be in part at least accounted for, by a general in- crease of stature in the people. We have gained at least an inch upon our fathers, and have the gratify- ing prospect of appearing diminutive when compared with our children. "^ But if this be so in America, 1 confess my obser- vation is at fault. I can discern no prospect of her soon becoming a mental benefactor to the world. Elementary instruction, it is true, has generally kept ])ace with the rapid progress of population; but wliile the steps of youth are studiously directed to the base of the mountain of knowledge, no facilities have been provided for scaling its summit. There is at this moment nothing in the United States wor- thy of the name of a library. Not only is there an LITERATURE. OBSTACLES TO IMPROVEMENT. 300 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 limits of the Union, and still be regarded in many parts of Europe — especially in Germany — as a man compa- ratively ignorant. And why does a great nation thus voluntarily continue in a state of intellectual destitu- tion so anomalous and humiliating ? There are libra- ries 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 fuar not to say, the insuperable prejudice against the * The value of books imported from Europe during the year 1829- 30 for pubiic institutions, amounted only to 10,829 dollars ! Even of this wretched sum, I am assured the greater part was expended in works strictly new. Of the old treasures of learning, America iieems content to remain 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 rrunce uud England for the calculations of an ephemerisby which her shijis may be enabled in tolerable safety to navigate tlie ocean ! ii!i!ia'i! MW' 370 INFLUENCE OF THE GOVERNMENT Wt"' 1, m *^ 1 i I'l '.U m' 1^ k Hlii i i- claims of primogeniture, is unfavourable to national advancement. It must continue to prevent any large accumulations of individual wealth, and the forma- tion of a class which might afford encouragement to those branches of science and literature, which can- not be expected from their very nature to become generally popular. Nor is it likely that the impedi- ments to which I have alluded, will be at all dimi- nished by the character of the government, 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 influ- enced by the prevailing currents of opinion and feeling in those fuhjccted to its action. A highly popular government, therefore, can neither be in advance of the average intelligence 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 high- er qualities and virtues, but of all the errors, follies, passions, prejudices, and ignorances by which it is debased. It is in vain, therefore, to expect from such a RNMENT »urablc to national prevent any large h, and the furraa- encouragement to ature, wliich can- nature to become ly tliattlicimpedi- 'ill be at all dimi- rnmcnt, on which jnt being popular lore or less influ- 5 of opinion and iction. A highly m neither be in of a people, nor ust be, the mere its strength and only of its high- le errors, follies, ;s by which it is ct from such a IN REGARD TO LITERATURE. 371 government any separate and independent action. It cannot react upon, it is merely co-operative with, the people. It embodies no solf-existent or coun- tervailing influence. It is only when it ceases to be expressly representative, and stands on a firmer basis than mere popular favour, that a government can acquire a positive and determinate character, and be recognised as an influence distinct 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 specimen the world has yet seen, of a repre- sentative government ; of an executive, whose duties arc 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 further prospects of the United States, it would be mere folly to attri- bute influence of any kind to a government, which, in truth, is nothing more than a mere recipient of popular impulse. If^. 'ft kf II - liiljil llilil i!;|i i ! 372 WANT OF MANAGFMENT To an American of talent, there exist no olyects to stimulate political ambition, save tlie higher offices of the federal government, or of the indivi- dual States. Tlie latter, indeed, are chiefly valued for the increased facilities they afford for the attain* mcnt of the former ; hut to either, the only passport is popular favour. Acquirements of any sort, there- fore, which the great mans of the peojile do not value, or are incapahle of appreciating, are of no practical advantage, for they bring with them nei- ther fame, nor more substantial reward. But this is understating the case. Such knowledge, if dis- played at all, would not merely be a dead letter in the qualifications of a candidate for political power, it would oppose a decided obstacle to his success. The sovereign people in America arc given to be somewhat intolerant of acquirement, the immediate utility of which they cannot appreciate, but which they do feel has imparted something of mental supe- riority to its possessor. This is particularly the case with regard to literary accomplishment. The cry of the peoj)le is for " equal and universal education ;^ and attainments which circumstances have placed ENT TO ABSTRACT KNOWLEDGE. 373 sre exist no objects save tlie higher , or of the iiidivi- are cliicfly valued Ford for the attain" •, the only passport ; of any sort, there- the peo])le do not ?ciating, are of no iig with them nei- reward. But this knowledge, if dis- e a dead letter in or political power, 3le to his success. a are given to be nt, the immediate eciate, but which ng of mental supe- rticuiarly the case hmcnt. The cry iversal education ;" nces have placed beyond their own reach, they would willingly dis- countenance in others. It is true, indeed, that with regard to mere pro- fessional acquirements, a different feeling prevails. The people have no objection to a clever surgeon or a learned physician, because they profit by their skill. An ingenious mechanic they respect. There is a fair field for a chemist or engineer. But in regard to literature, they can discover no practical benefit of which it is productive. In their eyes it is a mere appanage of aristocracy, and whatever mental superiority it is felt to confer, is at the ex- pense of the self-esteem of less educated men. I have myself heard in Congress the imputation of scholar- ship bandietl as a reproach; and if the epithet of " literary gentleman" may be considered as malig- nant, as it did sometimes appear to be gratuitous, there assuredly existed ample apology for the indig- nant feeling it appeared to excite. The truth I believe is, that in their political representatives, the people demand just so much knowledge and accomplishment as they conceive to be practically available for the promotion of their own interests. This, in their ■ ilili 'i'i lill^l' 3T4. EFFECT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTIONS ; :i M;;!!! ilijl! ill' i!' ; ' opinion, is cnougli. More were but to gild refined gold, and paint the lily, operations which could add nothing to the value of the metal, or the fragrance of the flower. The consequence of all this has been, that the standard of judgment, in regard to public men, is de- cidedly lower in the United States than in most countries of Europe. It is perhaps natural, that the demand for political accomplishment should not precede its necessity, and I am far from wishing to assert, that American statesmen have not been hitherto found adequate to all the wants of the com- monwealth. But if it be the great object of enlight- ened institutions to encourage the development of the highest faculties, and, generally, to raise man in the scale of intellectual being ; if knowledge be confess- edly power, and freedom from prejudice a nobler enfranchisement than mere physical liberty, then I fear that, in reference to this gi'eat and ultimate function, those of the United States will be found wanting. I am far from arguing, that science and literature should be indebted for their promotion to a system of direct encouragement. Such policy is al- 5TITUTI0NS ON THE MIND OF THE COUNTRY. 875 t)iit to gild refined 3 which could add , or the fragrance las been, that the public men, is de- tcs than in most aps natural, that $hment should not far from wishing 3n have not been wants of the com- object of enlight- levelopment of the raise man in the i^ledge be confess- ejudice a nobler ical liberty, then eat and ultimate tes will be found that science and eir promotion to Such policy is al- ways dubious, and has ran 'y proved successful. But I certainly regard as one most important stand- ard of excellence ii. a government, the degree in which, hy its very constitution^ it tends to cjili into ac- tion the higher powers and qualities of the human mind. It is a poor policy, which, in matters of in- tellect, looks not beyond the necessities of the pre- sent hour. Tiicrc is no economy so shortsighted, as that which would limit the expenditure of mind, and assuredly the condition of society cannot be de- sirable, in which great qualities of every sort do not find efficient excitement and ample field for display. How far the influences, which have hitherto pre- vented the intellectual advancement of the Ameri- cans, may hereafter be counteracted by others more favourable to the cultivation of learning, I presume not to predict. There is certainly no deficiency of talent in the United States ; no deficiency of men, stored even to abundance with knowledge, practi- cally applicable to the palpable and grosser wants of their countrymen. But of those higher branches of (icquirement, which profess not to minister to mere Hi, III I i m M;I 376 KNOWLEDGE NOT VALUED. vulgar necessities, or to enlarge the sphere of physi- cal enjoyment) and of which the only result is the elevation of the intellect, I fear it must be acknow- ledged she has not yet been taught even to appreciate the valuo. M M'iJi m rJ ! :■ ill.-. AMERICAN NAVAL OFFICERS. 377 CHAPTER XI. PHILADELPHIA. The United States' hotel, where I liad taken up my abode, was a favourite resort of American naval officers. An opportunity was thus afforded me, of forming acquaintance with several, to whom I was indebted for many kind and most obliging attentions. It must be confessed, that these republicans have carried with them their full share of « Old Albion's spirit of the sea," for better sailors, in the best and highest acceptation of the terra, I do not believe the world can produce. During the course of my tour, I had a good deal of intercourse with the members of this profession ; and I must say, that in an officer of the United States' navy, I have uniformly found, not only a well-informed gentleman, but a person VOL. I. 2i I :J7d V li •'! j .1! NAVAL YARD. on whose kindness and good oilices to a stranger, I might witli confidence rely. Tlicy betray notliing i| I of that silly spirit of bluster and bravado, so preva- lent among other classes of their countrymen ; and even in conversing on the events of the late war, they spoke of their successes in a tone of modesty which tended to raise even the high impression I had already received of their gallantry. In company with one of these gentlemen I visited the Navy Yard, and went over a splendid line of- battle ship, the Pennsylvania. She is destined to carry a hundred and forty- four guns ; and is, I believe, the largest ship in the world. I likewise inspected a magnificent frigate called the Raritan. Both of these vessels are on the stocks, but I was assured that a couple of months would suffice at any time to make them ready for sea. They are com- pletely covered in from the weather; and every aperture of the wood is carefully filled with sea-salt to prevent decay. Great faith is placed in the effi- cacy of this preservative. Messrs Carey and Lea are the chief booksellers of Philadelphia, and, I believe, of the Union. Tlieir ite REPRINTS OF ENGLISH WORKS, 37}) estab1i8liment is vory extensive, and tboy are evi- dently men of much sagacity and enterprise. The principal part of their business consists in issuing reprints of English works, which, either from their merit or their notoriety, may bo expected to have a considerable circulation on this side of tl:e water. Of original publications the number is com- paratively small ; though, I am told, of late years it has considerably increased. The three great publishing cities of the Union are Boston, New York, and Philadelphia. From the first and last of these places I have seen some very respectable specimens of typography ; but, in gene- ral, the reprints of English works are executed in the coarsest and most careless manner. It is quite a mistake to suppose that books are cheaper in the United States than in England. If there were no copyright, and the British public would be content to read books printed in the most wretched manner on whitey- brown paper, there can be no doubt that the Englisli bibliopole would beat his American bro- ther out of the field. A proof of this is, that the British editions of works of which the copyright p-i IT 11 m D- n nso LAW OF COPYIIK.HT. X huR oxi)ii'C(1, arc quite as clirap, niid innrli superior in execution, to those produced in this country. Copyright in the United States is not enjoyable by u foreigner, though an American can hold it in Knghind. The consequence \s, that an English author derives no benefit from the republication of his work in America, while every Englishman who purchases the work of an American, is taxed in order to put money in the pocket of the latter. There is no reciprocity in this ; and it is really not easy to see w]»y Mr Washington Irving or Mr Cooper should enjoy greater privileges in this country than are locorded to Mr Bulwer or Mr Theodore Hook in the United States. There is an old proverb, *' What is good for the goose is good for the gander," which will be found quite as applicable to the policy of Parliament as the practice of the poultry-yard. It is to be hoped this homely apophthegm will not escape the notice of the Government, and that by an act of signal justice, (the abolition of American copyright in England,) it will compel the United States to adopt a wiser and more liberal system. All novels, good, bad, and indifferent, which ap- -. f AMERICAN BOOKS. 381 d miirli siiporior :ln8 country, is not enjoyable n can bold it in tbat an Englisb I republication of Englisbman wbo , is taxed in order latter. Tbere is eally not easy to ^Ir Cooper sliould iountry tban are dorc Hook in tbe ovcrb, " Wbat is i gander," wbich to the policy of ultry-yard. It is n will not escape that by an act of erican copyright Jnited States to Dm. jrent, which ap- pear in England, seem to be reprinted in this coun- try. Indeed, the American appetite in this respect is apparently quite as indiscriminate as our own. A good deal also of the more valuable British literature issues from the Philadelphia press, but in the most democratic form. I have been some- times amused at observing the entire transmogrifica- tion undergone by one of Mr Murray's hot-pressed and broad-margined volumes under the hands of an American bookseller. It enters his shop a three guinea quarto ; it comes out a four and twopenny duodecimo. The metamorphosis reminds one of a lord changing clothes with a beggar. The man is the same, but he certainly owes nothing to the toilet. The Americans are as jealous on the subject of their literature as on other matters of national pre- tension. The continual importation of European books contributes to excite a consciousness of infe- riority which is by no means pleasant. There are many projects afloat for getting rid of this mental bondage, and establishing intellectual independence. By one party it is proposed to exclude English works 382 .TKALOUSY OF DRITISII LITERATURE. 1. ••} i5i 11 : I. ^ ijl. altogether, mid forbid their republication under a high penalty. " Americans," say the advocates of tliiH sybtcin, •' will never write books, when they can be had so cheaply from England. Native talent is kept under ; it wants protection against the compe- tition of foreign genius. Give it the monopoly of the home market ; deal with intellect as you do with calico and broad-cloth, and do not prematurely force our literary labourers into a contest with men enjoying the advantages of larger libraries, learning, and leisure." In short, what these gentle- men want is, that ignorance and barbarism should be established by legislative enactment, a policy which, till America luis suffered more than she has yet done from the inroads of knowledge, will pro- bably strike a foreigner as somewhat gratuitous. If the American legislature, however, has not done this, it has certainly done what is something iikin to it. A duty of thirty cents, or about fifteen pence a-pound, is charged on all imported books, wliich, in every point of view, is highly injudicious. In the first place, American books require no protection, because the expense of copyright, and of transport, II AT U HE. 1MI'(»LICY OF DUTY ON DOOICS. 383 is far inoro lliun cnodgh to sucuro to native book- sellci'H the undisturbt'd posscKsioii of tlie'ir own mar- ket. Wiien H book is of a eharactor to lead to re- publication in the United States, of courHo the only effect of the duty is to force those, who might wish handsomer and better copies, to furniNli their li- braries with inferior material. The number of these however, would be found very small. In this coun- try, when a book is once read, it is cast aside and thought of no more. In comparatively few instances, is it bound and consigned to the shelves of the book- case, and therefore it is, that the purchasers of books almost uniformly prefer the very cheapest form. The injurious effect, however, of the duty on imported works, is felt wdtli regard to those which, although valuable, are not of a character to repay the cost of republication. The duty in all such cases acts not as a protection — for when the book is not reprinted there is nothing to protect — but as a tax upon knoiV' kdge ; or, in other words, a premium for the perpe- tuation of ignorance. During my stay at Philadelphia, I frequently visited the courts of law. The proceedings I hap- 384 COURTS OF LAW. V' ■, :' , , 1 1 '• , . Kf if , V- ' y ! it 1 -^fi iilh'l B': :1 B^': HHb^II pcned to witness were in notliing remarkable, and I have already described the externals of an American Court. It is not unusual among the lower orders in England, when any knotty point is proposed for discussion, to say it would " puz/le a Philadelphia lawyer." To do this, however, it must be knotty indeed, for I have never met a body of men more distinguished by acutencss and extensive profes- sional information than the members of the Phila- delphia bar. In the American courts there is much tacit respect paid to English decisions, each volume of which is reprinted in this country as soon as it appears. In- deed, but for these, law in America would soon become an inextricable jumble. It is impossible to expect much harmony of decision from twenty- four independent tribunals, unless there exist some com- mon land-marks to serve as guides to opinion. Even as it is, the most anomalous discrepancies occur between the decisions of the different State Courts; but without a constant influx of English authori- ties, the laws regarding property would be speedily remarkable, and I Is of ail American tlic lower orders int is proposed for zle a Philadelphia it must he knotty )ody of men more extensive profes- ihers of the Phila- much tacit respect volume of which is as it appears. In- lerica would soon It is impossible to from twenty-four e exist some com- to opinion. Even iscrepancies occm* ent State Courts; English authori- would be speedily SALARIES OF THE JUDGES. 985 overcast by such a mass of contradictory precedents as to be utterly irrevocable to any system. The low salaries of the judges constitute matter of general complaint among the members of the bar, both at Philadelphia and New York. These are so inadequate, when compared with the income of a well-employed barrister, that the State is deprived of the advantage of having the highest legal talent on the bench. Men from the lower walks of the pro- fession, therefore, are generally promoted to the office, and for the sake of a wretched saving of a few thousand dollars, the public are content to submit their lives and properties to the decision of men of inferior intelligence and learning. Iii one respect, I am told the very excess of demo- cracy defeats itself. In some States the judges are so inordinately underpaid, that no lawyer, who does not possess a considerable private fortune, can afford to accept the office. From this circumstance some- thing of aristocratic distinction has become con- nected with it, and a seat on the bench is now more greedily coveted than it would be, were the salary more commensurate with the duties of the situation. VOL. 1. 2k 386 WANT OF UNIFORMITY m - < '■i; i ■ III. : ; All lawyers with whom I ha\e conversed agree, that the discrepancy between the laws of the differ- ent States is productive of much injury. The statutes of one State are often defeated in the tribu- nals of another, when not in accordance with the tone of public opinion in the latter. A laxity thus arises in the administration of municipal law incom- patible with good government. The criminal codes are likewise highly discordant, and from the variety of jurisdictions, the probability of crime being follow- ed by punishment is much diminished. When a man guilty of an offence in one State escapes into another, he can only be apprehended on the formal demand of the executive authority of the State having juris- diction of the crime. Before the necessary machinery, however, can be set at work, he has generally time and opportunity for a second evasion, and it thus often happens that the ends of justice are entirely defeated. There can be no doubt that the want of unifor- mity in the administration of justice, is injurious both to public morals and private security. But the evil is one naturally arising from the political sub- ■11 1, i iir TY IN THE ADMINISTRATION OF LAW. 887 conversed agree, i,w8 of the differ- 5h injury. The ated in the tribu- »rdance with the A laxity thus icipal law incom- [le criminal codes I from the variety •ime being follow- led. When a man apes into another, e formal demand tate havingjuris- ssary machinery, as generally time don, and it thus Lstice are entirely 9 want of unifor- itice, is injurious lecurity. But the the political sub- divisions of the Union, and for which, with the jealousy which prevails of the jurisdiction of the federal government, it is perhaps impossible to devise a remedy. With so many co-existent and independ- ent legislatures, uniformity of legislation is impos- sible, and we can only hope that in the growing political experience of American statesmen, the evil may be diminished, though there exist no prospect of its being entirely removed. Philadelphia may be called the Bath of the United States, and many individuals who have amassed for- tunes in other parts of the Union, select it as the place of their residence. Money-getting is not here the furious and absorbing pursuit of al ranks and conditions of men. On the contrary, every thing goes on quietly. The people seem to dabble in busi- ness, rather than follow it with that impetuous energy observable in other cities. The truth is, that a large portion of the capital of the Philadelphians is invested in New York, where there is ample field for its profitable employment. The extent of their own traffic is limited, and in this respect I should imagine it to be inferior even to Boston. But, in fi H ■ '^H '^) m s",^- ^i ;f:J 'i \ i 1 i Si mi !;i: a.te in the neighbour- hood, and by his simplicity and benevolence of cha- E. JOSEPH BONAPARTE. S91 i. thousand dollars comparatively no iading capitalists, lat sort of defen- place among men in society, land, the pursuits I narrower limits, on a great scale, e is engrossed by joy a sort of pre- ich younger eata- find it in vain to iterprising traders, w York, and Phi- y untroubled by I impede any per- ^ its aristocracy, i the good fortune better known by iparte. This per- in the neighbour- mevolence of cha- racter, has succeeded in winning golden opinions from all classes of Americans. He often visits Philadelphia, and mingles a good deal in the society of the place. In the party where I first met him, a considerable time elapsed before I was aware of the presence of a person so remarkable. He was at length pointed out to my observation, with an offer of introduction which I thought proper to decline ; being aware, that in a work with which he was pro- bably unacquainted, I had spoken of him in a man- ner, which, whether just or otherwise, made it indelicate that I should be obtruded on his notice. Joseph Bonaparte, in person, is about the middle height, but round and corpulent. In the form of his head and features there certainly exists a resem- blance to Napoleon, but in the expression of the countenance there is none. I remember, at the Per- gola theatre of Florence, discovering Louis Bona- parte from his likeness to the Emperor, which is very striking, but I am by no means confident that I should have been equally successful with Joseph. There is nothing about him indicative of high intel- lect. His eye is dull and heavy; his manner un- n '«n. I fc 1 im- pr ii 802 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. graceful and deficient in that ease and dignity which we vulgar people are apt to number among the ne- cessary 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 sovereignty. 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 jealousies and intrigues of the unruly marshals, over whom he could exercise no authority. He admits the full extent of his unpo- pularity, 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 pockethandkerchicf, he deliberately mopped his bald ** discrowned head," with a hand which one would certainly have guessed to have had more con- nexion with a spit than a sceptre. I remained a fortnight waiting for a change of '■■ -I ' nd dignity which er among the ne- t Joseph was not lave been forced ;op gap, than from Lon for the duties crses without any sumstances of his , indeed, it can be more than half his 1 intrigues of the could exercise no xtent of his unpo- sincere desire to th his deportment rtment was warm, so ; for taking out rately mopped his i hand which one ave had more con- * for a change of JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 39a weather, but it never came. The roads, however, had become quite practicable for travelling, and I at length determined on departure. At five o'clock in the morning I accordingly drove to Market Street, where I took possession of a place in a sleigh shaped like an omnibus, which contained accommodation for about as many passengers. 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 mechan- ism, I looked back on the Quaker city, yet glimmer- ing in the distance, and bade farewell to it for ever. END OF VOLUME ONE. • » • - » • 1 ' • • • . t BDINBUROH : BALLANTYNB AND » • ... I'CO., A7L'8V0«K BOOKS PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH; AND T. CADELL, LONDON. \\ In Three vols. I2mo, with 14 Plates, L.l, 7i., Bound in cloth, ANNALS OF THE PENINSULAR CAMPAIGNS, FROM 1808 TO 1814. ! By the Author of" Cyril Thornton." By the same Author, CYRIL THORNTON. In 3 vols. 12ino, price L.1, Is. Second Edition. In a neat pocket volume, price 6s. bound in doth, PRACTICAL NOTES MADE DURINO A TOUR IN CANADA, AND A PORTION OF THE UNITED STATES, in 1831, Br ADAM FERGUSSON, Esq. of Woodhill, Adtocatk. Dedicated, by permission, to the Highland Society of Scotland. " ViDI." Just ready, in 2 vols, foolscap 8vo, price 12s., THE SECOND EDITION OF PASSAGES FROM THE DIARY OF A LATE PHYSICIAN. With Notes and Illostrations. By the Editor. In 1 vol. post 8vo, price lOs. 6d., TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE RIFLE BRIGADE. BY THE LATE WILLIAM SURTEES, Quartermaster. "We are unacquainted with any production which so truly, to unaffectedly, de- 8cril>et the English Soldier : there is none of that wanton eagerness, so common to minds of little elevation, to travel from their own sphere to discuss -merits, or depict scenes, of which their limited means can afford them but at best an imperfect knoviMge."— Literary Gazette, January 5, 1835. " This narrative is composed without any exaggeration ; the farts are all not merely to be depended on and quoted for accuracy, but the descriptions (as is olMerved in the Preface) possess a Defoe-like simplicity and sincerity. In a his- torical point of view, these memoranda of Surtees will often be referred to as authentic and decisive on many of the minor points of the history of the wars of the Peninsula and America; and on ihe ground of giving a c]ear and reliable re- port of the condition, sufferings, and feelings of the private soldier, they are highly valuable."— iSpectator, January 5, 1833. In two large volumct, 8vo, With Fifteen Mapi, THE SECOND EDITION, WITH NUMEttOUg ADDITIONB, OF BRITISH AMERICA. By JOHN M'GREGOR, Eiq. Tliia work contains full and nconrntc iketrhei of tlie Climate, Soil, Natural ProductiunH, Af^riculture, Trade, FiHlieries, etc., of the Cant- dan, Novu Scutitt, New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, Cape Bretpn, Newfoundland, etc. etc., with full and practical information to Emigrants. ?« i::^ 1 i/.j *'*<' ', ■y< - : ' -V .' ! mi Wa § h r m Tiiifl edition contains much additional information ; and the whole arcounts have been brought down to the latest period. " Cunsidorlng the criiiral niomont nt whirh th<< present work has come forth { ronHlderliig hIho the fiiliieoi* iind rcinurkiible ucriirHcv of the Information which it otforH to our gdveniorn at home, we believe that tow men in this generation will prove greater beiieraetitrs to our vast establUhmeut of North American coloiuus than John M'Uregor."— J7/iicA;wuo