A BOOK OF VAGARIES.








A
BOOK OF VAGARIES;
COMPRISING
THE  NEW  MIRROR  FOR  TRAVELLERS
AND OTHER
WHIM[-WHAMS:
BEING SELECTIONS FROM THE PAPERS OF
A  RETIRED  COMMON-COUNCILMAN,
EREWHILE KNOWN AS
LAUNCELOT  LANGSTAFF,
AND, IN THE PUBLIC RECORDS,
AS
JAMES K. PAULDING.
EDITED BY WILLIAM I. PAULDING.
NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER AND COMPANY.
1868.




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by
WILLIAM  I. PAULDING,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern
District of New York.
CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON AND SON.




INTRODUCTION.
THE title which I have given to this volume of the works
of James K. Paulding was not devised for the sake of any
bizarre effect it might be supposed to have, but because it
seemed to me really to suggest the character of the contents.
Even " The New Mirror for Travellers ", which occupies so
much space in it, is rather a series of satirical observations
varied with brief essays or stories than a connected work.
Mr. Paulding, even when he started out with some special
object in view, was apt to follow the lead of his fancy as it
warmed, and to' set down just what popped into his head. If
this rambling and discursive habit has its great disadvantages,
it is not without a certain compensation, in the assurance
which it gives to the reader that he is not entrapped into a
piece of sentiment, or led up, like a partridge by cautiouslystrewed grains of buckwheat, into a hair-noose of a jest.
Old birds of readers, familiar with the arts of writing men,
will call to mind many a seed that they have seen dropped on
the way, to be harvested by and by with as much certainty as
a rye crop. Why, some men dibble'em  in, like cabbageplants; and one knows that they will, in due time, weather
and worms permitting, blow out into full head.
A skittish man abhors these studied surprises. But he




Viii                 INTRODUCTION.
may plunge unsuspiciously into Mr. Paulding's fields and pastures. If a flower springs in his path, Nature put it there;
and if he pricks his finger with a bramble while he stretches
forth his hand to gather a blossom, a la bonne heure!, he must
not complain, for, be sure, it will turn out a black-cap or a
wild raspberry, and it was in the very constitution of things
that they should be associated.
It certainly is a charm, if it be not a merit, in Mr. Paulding's writings, that they are absolutely unvarnished. If an
exquisite thought came from him, " totus, teres, atque rotundus", we may be assured that it had not been rolled about
and polished assiduously, like a jeweller's work: - rather it
was the natural gem  of the mine. Indeed, as he prattles
away in his careless fashion, we are sometimes reminded of
the girl in the fairy-tale, who dropped pearls from her mouth
in her ordinary talk.
Above all, he was not of the men that say to themselves:Go to; now let us be funny, - and who fetch up their tears
with a rotary pump, that one can hear creak as they work at
it. No: his humor flitted about, like the bobolink athwart
the breeze, now on this tack now on that as the fancy took
him, but with no more calculation about its effect upon men
than the bird makes when he gushes blithely into song; while
there was an ever-living spring of sentiment within him, stealing away, for the most part, unseen, like the natural overflow
amid the grass, and only once in a while gleaming in the sunlight, because it happened to cross the sunlight's path.
The notion of attributing the papers to " a retired Commoncouncilman" was suggested by the title-page of " Chronicles
of the City of Gotham": and, as it seemed to me not inappropriate, I have transferred the dedication of that volume to
this. "The whim-whams and opinions of Launcelot Lang



INTRODUCTION.                    ix
staff, Esq., and others ", of the first series of " Salmagundi ",
were reduced in the second to those of Launcelot Langstaff,
Esq., alone. As we have in this volume more of the idiosyncrasies of that gentleman, I thought that his name might
fairly appear upon the title-page.
The engraving of Mr. Paulding in this volume is after a
medallion executed by J. G. Chapman, about the year 1843.
He was then sixty-five years of age; and his appearance did
not materially change till within two or three years of his
death, when he ceased to shave.
Mr. Paulding had a detestation for watering-places, and a
good deal of " The New Mirror for Travellers ", published in
1828., is devoted to gibes against Saratoga and Ballston. In
"Letters from  the South", he has a shy at such resorts.
"In all the constituents of a fashionable watering-place,
Berkeley maintains a most respectable rank, inasmuch as it
affords as great a variety of character, as many gay equipages
and gay people, and almost as great a lack of amusement, as
Ballston or Long Branch." Again, in " A Sketch of Old England", referring to Barmouth in Wales, frequented for the
purpose of bathing, he grimly says: -" The town is mean,
incommodious, and difficult of access, presenting, on the whole,
nearly all the inconveniences which form the principal attraction of watering-places."
Any one in possession of a print of a street scene of about
this period will be amused with Mr. Paulding's comments on
the costume of the day, and especially on the head-gear of the
ladies. In " The New-York Mirror " for January 15th, 1831.,
there is an engraving of The Battery, " done in a style that
cannot fail, we think, of giving universal satisfaction."  There
are front, rear, and profile, views of bonnets in it, that are
amazing.




X                     INTRODUCTION.
I set down here, as matter of antiquarian interest, what
little I have been able to gather about the taverns and eatinghouses of New York and Albany, incidentally alluded to in
the production. For this information, (and some other), I
am under obligation to Mr. James H. Hackett and Mr. Gulian
C. Verplanck.
From the first-mentioned gentleman I have the following,
in reference to matters on page 21:"The Bank Coffee House locality was South-East corner of Pine
and William streets. It was kept by William Niblo, as I can remember distinctly, from 1816 to 1820; when I departed New
York City, and went to and settled in Utica as a merchant. In
1825, when I had returned as such and resumed a residence in
New York, (23 Broadway), and first became personally known to
your late father, who was a neighbor, Niblo - tho' still keeping
the Bank Coffee House —had been measurably surpassed in
popularity, as a public caterer for nice palates, by one Sykes, (an
Englishman and an adventurer), who had become more famous
for his gastronomic preparations, and kept a public house, also in
William street, —but, nearly opposite the front of the present
Delmonico Building, corner of Beaver street.
"Niblo soon thereafter partially withdrew from competition
with Sykes, and, refitting some old family-mansion, not far from
where is now the intersection of 61st street by the Third Avenue,
and ornamenting its few surrounding acres, called the premises,' Kensington House'; and also got up and ran, at certain hours
of summer days, between that and the Bank Coffee House,, an
omnibus, -the first vehicle of the kind which had then been seen
in New York.
" Sykes eventually became a bankrupt, and was notorious for
his profligacy, and for his large and many debts and defalcations;
and, finally,'twas said of him, as of the poor old Frenchman in
the tale of Monsieur Tonson, after having been so long teased by
the wag, Tom King, -' Away he ran and ne'er was heard of more.'"
The Turtle Club, mentioned on page 22, met at Hoboken,




INTRODUCTION.                       Xi
and included most of the wealthy gourmands of New York.
It was more notorious for its high feeding than for its wit.
I get, from  Mr. Verplanck, the ensuing particulars in
reference to two houses of entertainment specified on page
167.
"Cruttenden's and Rockwell's, at Albany, are of an historical
record and connected with the political history of the State.
"Rockwell's was a large double house of yellow brick, built
for the residence of some of the old dignitaries of Albany, but
raised some stories and enlarged. It stood, and I think still
stands, though converted into shops, &c., in Peail street, something North of State street, on the East side of the way. It was
for years the winter resort of many of the chief men of the old
Democratic party.  There was always to be found the eloquent
Peter R. Livingston, Walter Bowne, afterwards Mayor, long in
the State Senate, and others of name.
" Cruttenden's was of still more note, though not of so marked
a political character. It is still standing, though destined to be
soon removed, as it is on the ground ceded for the new capitol.
It stands, originally one only, subsequently the two last houses on
the N. corner facing the present park in front of the Capitol, being
on the East side.
It was long famous for its landlord and its guests. He was a
man of infinite jest, and besides kept the best table in Albany or
indeed in the country.  The house was resorted to by Elisha
Williams and all the great lawyers, Rudolph Bunner, and other
men of pleasantry. It was the scene of sundry droll incidents
which told on public opinion through the State."
Mr. Verplanck remarks, further: —"A full note on these
two houses, especially Cruttenden's, would be of much interest." This I regret that I am unable to furnish.
A few foot-notes, included in brackets, have been added to
this edition of The New Mirror for Travellers.
The compositions which form the residue of the volume
are, (with the exception of the last two), selected from a




Xii                   INTRODUCTION.
number of the same whimsical cast contributed by Mr. Paulding to The New-York Mirror during the years 1831 and
1832. They may be called representative papers; for he
wrote a great variety of the sort, which he strewed about at
random everywhere during his life. They are representative
also in the fact that, odd as may be the superstructure, the
foundation is always laid in that strong and manly commonsense which was one of his principal characteristics.
" Jonathan's Visit to the Celestial Empire" had a certain
basis in fact - what, I have been unable to ascertain, definitively. It is not unlikely that he heard the story when Secretary of the Navy Board, at Washington.  The ginseng was
a traditional part of the yarn. He has, probably through
inadvertence, antedated it a little.  Some very small vessels
undoubtedly made the voyage to the East Indies, late in the
eighteenth century.  For example:- The brig Rose, of 82
tons, belonging to E. H. Derby, Nathaniel Silsbee commander, arrived at Salem  from  the East Indies in 1788.-The
sloop Union, of 96 tons, John Boit master, sailed from Newport, August 29. 1794, for Canton, and arrived in Boston,
July 11. 1796.
"The History of Uncle Sam  and his Boys", published
February 19. 1831, has in view the various schemes agitated
from time to time in Congress for a distribution among the
States, sometimes of the public lands, sometimes of the surplus public revenue.  In a modified form, the measure was
eventually carried through, in 1836. As early as January 30,
1830, Mr. Paulding had written to Mr. Irving, then Secretary
to the American legation.at the Court of St. James:" If you read the American papers, you will see that Congress
is reckoning its chickens before they are hatched, and dividing a
surplus revenue before they are out of debt. I am in hopes




INTRODUCTION.                    iii
something will turn up to oblige them to borrow money and run
in debt again, for I had rather see this, than quarreling about the
division of Uncle Sam's estate before he is dead. How all this
wretched squabbling about the spoils of the General Government
will end I know not, but it is evident to me that parties no longer
involve principles; " &c.
" The History of Uncle Sam and his Womankind ", published July 7. 1832- (as nearly on the National Anniversary as was possible in a weekly paper) -in like manner
refers to the agitation which resulted, November 24, 1832,
in the notorious nullification " ordinance " of South Carolina.
It were well could these two papers pass into the popular
mind. Mayhap, they are worthy the study of them  that
claim the standing of American statesmen. On the surface
mere jokes of the day, they play over most of our sectional
characteristics with an acuteness, and lay finger on certain allimportant national questions with a strength, that give them
historical and daily value. They are imbued throughout with
that broad spirit of nationality which was the very life of his
mind, but which is as yet so rare among our leading men.
Mr. Paulding was fond of writing apologues and fables,
after the fashion of the East.  In " Haschbasch, the Pearldiver ", he has effected a very ludicrous combination of Oriental scenery with thoroughly American idea.
"Killing, No Murder" is one of the many, protests he
uttered against that almost universal American failing, the
desire of making as much show on one thousand dollars a
year as can be made upon an income of fifty.
"Six Weeks in the Moon" is Swiftian for vigor. Not so
frightful and ghastly as the account of "the grand academy
of Lagado ", which it in a measure recalls, it is perhaps equally searching. Of the same essential spirit, the work of the




Xiv                 INTRODUCTION.
later author is rendered more agreeable by the more genial
character of the man. The idea is not a new one, nor was it
for the first time worked by him in this paper. "Selections
from the Journal of a late Traveller to the Moon" appeared
in The New-York Mirror for June 7, 1834. As often happened with him, he seems to have forgotten this entirely.
In the United States Review for June, 1853, he repeated
the same general course of thought in a somewhat different
shape. I give the article as an illustration — (one, among
many that might be produced) —of how little his " natural
force" was "abated" by reason of lengthened years. He
was then close on to seventy-five.
As an example of his sadder vagaries, I have closed the
volume with a little essay, which formed originally one of
the " Letters from the South ", and to which I have given the
title   " AA Mood of Nature and of Man."  It is redolent of
that old English "humour" which the literature of no other
race has approached; and authorizes me, as I think, to make
the remark, (which at least appears to me impartial), that he
has done many things well, and some in a manner that has
scarcely been surpassed.
W  I.. P.




CONTENTS.
PAGE
EPISTLE DEDICATORY, AND PETITION.....3
PREFACE TO THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS... 11
THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.......   17
THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN......... 287
JONATHAN'S VISIT TO THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.... 303
THE HISTORY OF UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYs... 325
THE HISTORY OF UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.. 341
HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER........ 363
KILLING, NO MURDER.............381
SiX WEEKS IN THE MOON...........395
A MOOD OF NATURE AND OF MAN........ 413








EPISTLE DEDICATORY
AND
PETITTON.
1








TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL THE
MAYOR, ALDERMEN, AND  COMMON  COUNCIL
OF THE
ANCIENT CITY OF GOTHAM.
RIGHT WORSHIPFUL:
IT hath been from time immemorial
a subject of contention among the learned, whether
Osiris, Confucius, Zoroaster, Solon, Lycurgus, Draco,
Nuna Pompilius, Mahomet, Peter the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, Jeremy Bentham, or the author of
the New Charter of Gotham, was, or is, the greatest
law-giver. Without diving into the abstruse profundity of this knotty question, I myself am of opinion
that it may be easily settled, by putting them all out
of sight at once, as bearing no sort of comparison, in
the art of concocting numerous laws and multifarious
enactments, with your Honours of the Common
Council. What constitutes greatness, but bulk, numbers, and dimensions?  And who, of all legislators
in every age, can compare with, or, as the vulgar say,
hold a candle to, your Honours, in the length, breadth,
profundity, and multiplicity of your laws? I am
credibly informed, and do believe, — (nay, hath not




4        EPISTLE DEDICATORY AND PETITION.
my former participation in your counsels taught me?)
-that, provided all the enactments of your Honourable
Body (which, like the king, never dieth) were carefully
collected in good substantial volumes, bound in calf,
they would build another tower of Babel, and cause
a second confusion of tongues, to the utter discomfiture and dispersion of the worthy citizens of Gotham.
Another question, moreover, hath from time to time
sorely puzzled the learned, to wit, whether offences do
not increase in number exactly in proportion to the
multiplication of the laws. I myself, with due submission, am inclined to believe that such is actually
the case; seeing all experience teaches us that there
is a pestilent itching in the blood towards the practice
of disobedience. To forbid children to go out of their
bounds is, peradventure, the most powerful incitement
to wandering; and to caution them against dangers
is the infallible way of making them run their heads
into them. Even so with men and women, who are
morally certain to be put in mind of the pleasure of
transgressing, by the anticipation of punishment.
They actually persuade themselves there must be
something vastly delectable in the offence, to make it
necessary to denounce such severe penalties against
it. I do modestly assure your Honours that, no
longer ago than yesterday, I saw a child burn its fingers with paper, for no other reason, that I could perceive, than because the mother had threatened to
punish it if it did so. As a further illustration, I will,
with your Honours' permission, instance the example
of a decent, well-behaved, and indeed exemplary horse
I once knew, who had been for years accustomed to
pasture at will, in a common appertaining to our




EPISTLE DEDICATORY AND PETITION.        5
township, open on all sides to his excursions. Beyond this he was never known to stray one step. But,
in process of time, our little corporation, impelled by
the ever-busy spirit of improvement, unluckily passed
a law for enclosing this common; and, from that fatal
era, this horse seemed possessed with an invincible
and wicked propensity to trespass and go astray.
From  being an example to all the animals of the
town, he degenerated into all sorts of irregularities;
was pounded three or four times a week; thrashed
out of enclosures; and cudgelled from barn-yards. Finally, as I believe, he wilfully drowned himself in a
swamp, where he never before dreamed of going.
Having thus illustrated my position by the example
of both reason and instinct, I will proceed to the prime
objects of this, my humble Epistle Dedicatory and Petition.
And firstly, my request is, that although, as I cannot deny, there is a great plenty, not to say superabundance of most valuable works, such as tracts,
tales, romances, improved grammars, spelling-books,
class-books, and all that sort of thing, coming out
every hour of the day; yet is there a certain class of
works, to wit, those that nobody buys or reads, that
lack legislative encouragement and protection. Besides, your Honours, even if this were not the case,
your Honours must be fully aware that there are certain good things of which the world cannot have too
many, such as laws, colleges, paper dollars and paper
books. If one law is not sufficient, the spirit of the age
requires another exactly opposite in its provisions, so
that, approaching as they do both before and behind,
it is next to impossible for a criminal to escape. So,




6        EPISTLE DEDICATORY AND PETITION.
if there is not sufficient liberality in the public, or sufficient love of learned lore, to afford encouragement
to one university, the only remedy for such sore evils
is to establish another. Between two stools we must
certainly fall to the earth, which every body knows is
the most solid foundation after all for learning. In
respect to paper-money, it is quite a sufficient indication of the necessity of having plenty of that invaluable commodity, to instance the avidity of every body
for more. Besides, if it were not for the establishment of new banks, in a little while we should have
no paper-money at all, seeing the number of old ones
that become bankrupt every day. The wear and tear
of these useful manufactories of paper is such as to
require perpetual repairs. So with books: being, for
the most part, forgot in a few weeks, in consequence
of the perpetual supplies of novelty, it necessarily becomes proper to apply new stimulants to the spirit of
the age and development of the human mind.  The
May-flies, that live but for a day, are as the sands of the
sea in number, and are succeeded, hour after hour, by
new generations of insects, who glitter in the noontide
sun, and perish in the first dews of the evening.
Now, forasmuch as this multiplication and quick
succession of new books is calculated to interfere with,
and circumscribe the circulation of, this my work,
which I now lay at the feet of your Honours' munificence, I.humbly beseech your Honours to afford it
your special protection, in the manner and form following, to wit:
First. That you will cause your Finance-Committee
to subscribe for a thousand, or (not to be particular)
two thousand, copies, and direct a warrant to be is



EPISTLE DEDICATORY AND PETITION.        7
sued in favour of your petitioner for the amount.
Professing himself a reasonable man, he hereby relinquishes all right of demanding that your Honours
shall read them.
Secondly. That your Honours will refer the historical piece, entitled and called, " Jonathan's Visit to
the Celestial Empire," in this my book, to the WaterCommittee, with directions to report definitively a favourable criticism  on its merits, sometime in the
course of the present century, or as soon thereafter as
practicable.
Thirdly. That your Honours will be pleased to
refer the memoir of Haschbash, the pearl-diver, unto
the Committee on Applications for office, with peremptory directions to nominate your petitioner to some
good fat place, with a liberal salary and nothing to
do.  Your humble petitioner, being by profession an
anti-busybody, will engage to neglect his duties equally with any man living, except, perhaps, certain of the
Street-Inspectors.
Fourthly. That your munificent, patriotic, and lawgiving Honours, will in like manner refer the elaborate
itinerary, styled, "THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.",
to a special Committee of Silence, with instructions
to say nothing on the subject. If a sufficient number of silent members cannot be detected in your
Honourable Body, your Honours will find plenty in
Congress.
Fifthly. That your Honourable Body will graciously instruct the Committee of Arrangements for
the fourth of July and other masticatory celebrations,
not to forget to invite your petitioner to the aforesaid
jolly anniversaries, as hath been the case ever since




8       EPISTLE DEDICATORY AND PETITION.
he had the misfortune to empty a bottle of champagne
into the right worshipful pocket of the late worthy
and lamented Alderman Quackenbush, of immortal
memory.
Sixthly. That your munificent Honours, being the
patrons of literature, the fine arts, and the like, will,
as an honourable testimony to the benefits this his
work is likely to shower on the present age and on
posterity, confer immortality on your humble petitioner, by voting him the freedom of the city in a
gold box, taking especial care that it be not too large
to be converted into a convenient snuffbox.
Lastly. That your munificent Honours will take
compassion on all idle and useless citizens and strangers, who, having (like your petitioner) nothing to do,
are very apt to get tired; and, in due time, cause to
be constructed a suitable number of cosy seats on
the Battery, well lined and stuffed, with seemly high
backs, for our special and exclusive accommodation.
If your illustrious and industrious Honours only knew
how idle your petitioner is, and what a horror he hath
of a hard bench without a back, you would shed tears
at beholding him luxuriating in agony on the Battery in the beautiful summer twilight. Many a worthy citizen, as he verily believes, hath been driven to
the most enormous excesses of tippling and debauchery, by the utter impossibility of obtaining a moment's ease and relaxation upon those instruments of
torture, miscalled benches, and, in a paroxysm of impatience, cast himself utterly away upon the quicksands of Castle Garden or the Battery Hotel.
And your petitioner shall ever vote, &c.




THE
NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS;
AND
GUIDE TO THE SPRINGS.
"ADIEU LA BOUTIQUE! "








PRE FACE
TO
THE NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
EVER since the invention of steam-engines, steamboats, steam-carriages, Liverpool packets, railroads,
and other delightful facilities for travelling, the march
of the human body has kept pace with the march of
the human mind, so that it is now a moot point which
gets on the faster. If the body moves at the rate of
fifteen miles an hour, the mind advances in an equal
pace, and children of sixteen are in a fair way to
become wiser than their grandfathers.  While the
grown-up gentleman goes to Albany in twelve hours,
and comes back in forty-eight with a charter in his
pocket, the aspiring school-boy smatters a language,
or conquers a science, by the aid of those vast im-provements in the  "machinery" of the mind, which
have immortalized the age. In fact, there seems to be
a race between matter and mind, and there is no telling which will come out first in the end.
Legislators and philosophers may flatter themselves
as they will, but they have little influence in shaping
this world. The inventors of paper-money, cotton



12                 PREFACE TO
machinery, steam - engines, and steam - boats, have
caused a greater revolution in the habits, opinions
and morals of mankind, than all the systems of philosophy, aided by all the efforts of legislation. Machinery and steam-engines have had more influence
on the Christian world than Locke's metaphysics,
Napoleon's code, or Jeremy Bentham's codification;
and we have heard a great advocate for domestic
manufactures predict, that the time was not far distant when men and women and children would be of
no use but to construct and attend upon machinery
-when spinning-jennies would become members of
Congress, and the United States be governed by a
steam-engine of a hundred and twenty horse power.
We confess ourselves not quite so sanguine, but will
go so far as to say, that we believe the time may
come when a long speech will be spun out of a bale
of cotton by a spinning-jenny; a president of the
United States be made by a combination of machinery; and Mynheer Maelzel be beaten at chess by
his own automaton.
Without diving deeper into such speculations, or
tracing the effects of these vast improvements in the
condition of mankind, who will soon have nothing to
do but tend upon machinery, we shall content ourselves with observing that the wonderful facilities for
locomotion furnished by modern ingenuity have increased the number of travellers to such a degree, that
they now constitute a large portion of the human family. All ages and sexes are to be found on the wing,
in perpetual motion from place to place. Little babies are seen crying their way in steam-boats, whose
cabins are like so many nurseries —people who are




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      13
the most comfortable at home, are now most fond of
going abroad - the spruce shopman exclaims, " Adieu
La Boutique," and leaves the shop-boy to cheat the
town for him - the young belle, tired of seeing and
being seen in Broadway, breaks forth in all her glories
in a new place at five hundred miles distance - bedrid age musters its last energies for an expedition
to West Point, or the Grand Canal — and even the
thrifty housewife of the villages on the banks of the
Hudson, who heretofore was " all one as a piece of
the house," thinks nothing of risking a blow-up, or a
break-down, in making a voyage to New York to sell
a pair of mittens, or buy a paper of pins. We have
heard a great political economist assert, that the
money spent in travelling between New York and
Albany, in the last fifteen years, would go near to
maintain all the paupers of the United States, in that,
the purest possible, state of independence —to wit, a
freedom from an ignominious dependence on labour
and economy. It is high time, therefore, that the
wandering Arabs of the West should have a code of
laws and regulations for their especial government;
and the principal design of the present work is to supply this desideratum.
We have accordingly prepared a system of jurisprudence, which, we flatter ourselves, will not suffer in
comparison, either with the code Napoleon, the code
Bentham, or any other code which the march of mind
hath begotten on the progress of public improvement
in the present age. The traveller, if we mistake not,
will find in it ample instructions, as to his outfit in
setting forth for unknown parts - the places and
things most worthy of attention in his route —the




14                 PREFACE TO
deportment proper in divers new and untried situations-and, above all, critical and minute instructions concerning those exquisite delights of the palate
which constitute the principal object of all travellers
of taste.
In addition to this, we have omitted no opportunity
of inculcating a passion for travelling, which, from
long and laborious experience, we pronounce the most
exquisite mode of killing time and spending money
ever yet devised by lazy ingenuity. It would occupy
our whole book, (which is restricted to a certain bulk,
so as not to interfere with the ladies' bandboxes and
the gentlemen's trunks), were we to indulge in a summary of all the delights and advantages of seeing new
and distant parts. Unfortunately for us, we write
solely for the benefit of the world, holding our own
especial emolument in sovereign contempt; and, still
more unfortunately, if this were not the case, we belong not to that favoured class of writers who can
take the liberty of publishing in six royal octavos
matter which mightbe compressed into one. We have
only space to observe, that a man who has travelled
to good purpose, and made a proper use of his opportunities, may commit as many blunders and tell as
many good stories as he pleases, provided he confines
himself to places where he has been and his hearers
have not. Books are of no authority in opposition to
an eye-witness; who is, as it were, like so many of
our great politicians, ex officio, a judge of every thing.
Two persons were once disputing, in a large company, about the Venus de Medici. One maintained
that her head inclined a little forward to the right,
the other that it inclined to the left. One had read




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      15
Winkelmann, and a hundred other descriptions of the
statue. The other had never read a book in his life;
but he had been at Florence, and had looked at the
Venus for at least five minutes.
" My dear sir, I ought to know; for I have read all
the books that ever were written on the Venus de
Medici."
"My dear sir, I must know; for I have been at
Florence, and seen her."
Here was an end of the argument. All the company was perfectly satisfied that the man who had
seen with his own eyes was right —and yet he was
wrong. But seeing is believing, and being believed
too. You may doubt what a man affirms on the authority of another; but, if he says he has seen the seaserpent, to question his veracity is to provoke a quarrel.
Such are the advantages of seeing with our own eyes!
Let us therefore set out without delay on the GRAND
NORTHERN TOUR.








THE
NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS, &c.
IN compiling and excogitating this work, we have
considered ourselves as having no manner of concern
with travellers until they arrive in the city of New
York, where we intend to take them under our especial protection. Doubtless, in proceeding from the
south, there are various objects worth the attention
of the traveller, who may take the opportunity of
stopping to change horses or to dine, to look round
him a little, and see what is to be seen. But, generally speaking, all is lost time until he arrives at New
York, of which it may justly be said, that as Paris is
France, so New  York is — New York. It is here
then that we take the fashionable tourist by the hand
and assume the rale of cicerone.
The city of New York, to which all travellers of
taste resort from the remotest corners of the earth,
and from whence they set out on what is emphatically called the GREAT NORTHERN TOUR, is situated at
the confluence of two noble waters, and about eighteen miles from the Atlantic Ocean. But we have
always thought it a singular piece of impertinence in
the compilers of road-books, itineraries, and guides,
2




18      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
to take up the traveller's time in describing things he
came expressly to see, and shall therefore confine ourselves to matters more occult, and inaccessible to transient sojourners. New York, though a very honest
and well-intentioned city as times go, (with the exception of Wall Street, which labours under a sort of
a shadow of suspicion), has changed its name almost
as often as some graceless rogues, though doubtless
not for the same reasons. The Indian name was
Manhadoes; the Dutch called it New Amsterdam
and New Orange; the English, New York, which
name all the world knows it still retains. In 1673, it
was a small village, and the richest man in it was
Frederick Philipse, or Flypse, who was rated at eighty thousand guilders. Now it is the greatest city of
the new world; the third, if not the second, in commerce, of all the world, old and new; and there are
men in it, who were yesterday worth millions of guilders - in paper-money: what they may be worth
to-morrow, we can't say, as that will depend on a
speculation.  In 1660, the salaries of ministers and
public officers were paid in beaver skins: now they
are paid in bank-notes. The beaver skins were always worth the money, which is more than can be
said of the bank-notes. New York contains one university, and two medical colleges; the latter always
struggling with each other in a noble spirit of generous, scientific emulation. There are twenty-two
banks- good, bad, and indifferent; forty-three insurance companies — solvent and insolvent; and one
public library: from whence it may be reasonably
inferred, that money is plenty as dirt- insurancebonds still more so.- and that both are held in




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      19
greater estimation than learning. There are also one
hundred churches, and about as many lottery-offices,
which accounts for the people of New York being so
much better than their neighbours.
In addition to all these, there is an academy of arts,
an athenaeum, and several other institutions for the
discouragement of literature, the arts, and sciences.
The academy languishes under the patronage ofnames. The athenaeum is a place where one may
always meet with La Belle Assemble, Ackerman's
Magazine, and the last number of Blackwood. In
addition to these places of popular amusement and
recreation, New York supports six theatres, of various kinds: from whence it may be inferred, that the
people are almost as fond of theatres as churches.
There was an Italian opera last year.  But, Eheu
fugaces, Posthume!, the birds are flown to other
climes.
Besides these attractions and ten thousand more,
New York abounds beyond all other places in the
universe, not excepting Paris, in consummate institutions for cultivating the noble science of gastronomy.
The soul of Heliogabalus presides in the kitchens
of our hotels and boarding-houses, and inspires the
genius of a thousand cooks —not sent by the devil,
as the old proverb infamously asserts, but by some
special dispensation. There too will be found canvas-backs from  the  Susquehanna; venison from
Jersey, Long  Island, and  Catskill; grouse from
Hempstead Plains; snipe from the Newark meadows; and partridges from Bull Hill; which last, if
the gourmand hath never eaten, let him despair.
Then, as for fish!- 0 for a mouth to eat, or to utter




20       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the names of, the fish that flutter in the markets of
New York, silently awaiting their customers like so
many pupils of Pythagoras. It is a pleasure to keep
Lent here. It is impossible to enumerate them all:
but we should consider ourselves the most ungrateful
of mankind, were we to omit making honourable
mention of the inimitable trout from the Fireplace,
whose pure waters are alone worthy the gambols of
these sportive Undinae; or of the amiable sheep'shead, whose teeth project out of his mouth as if to indicate that he longs to be eating up himself;* or of
the blackfish, which offers a convincing proof that
nature knows no distinction of colours, and has made
the black skin equal to the white - at least among
fishes; or of the delicious bass- the toothsome shad
- and the majestic cod, from  the banks of Newfoundland, doubly remarkable, as being almost the
only good that ever came of banks.  All these, together with countless varieties of smaller fry, offer
themselves spontaneously to the experienced connoisseur, a new delicacy for every day in the year. We
invoke them  all! -thee, sea-green lobster of the
Sound, best-beloved of southern invalids, a supper of
whom  is a sovereign cure for dyspepsia; thee luscious soft-crab, the discovery of whose unequalled
excellence has made the city of Baltimore immortal;
catfish and flounder, slippery eel and rough-shelled
mussel; elephant-clam, which the mischievous boys
of the Sound call by a more inglorious name;- we
invoke ye all! And if we forget thee, O most puissant and imperial oyster, whether of Blue Point, York
* The unlearned traveller will be careful not to confound the sheep'shead, with the head of a sheep, as did the honest Irishman at Norfolk.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.         21
River, Chingoteague, or Chingarora, may our palate
forget its cunning, and lose the best gift of heaven -
the faculty of distinguishing between six different
Madeira wines, with our eyes shut! All these and
more may be seen of a morning at Fulton and Washington Markets; and the traveller who shall go away
without visiting them has travelled in vain.
Then, for cooking these various and transcendent
excellencies, these precious bounties —Thee we invoke -thee of the Bank Coffee Baouse, who excellest
equally in the sublime sciences of procuring and serving up these immortal dishes, and hast no equal
among men, but the great SYKES, with whom  thou
didst erewhile divide the empire of the world. But,
Eheufugaces, Posthume, too! the smoke of his kitchen,
which bore up incense worthy of the gods, is now gone
out- he himself is like a shadow long departed, and
nothing is left of him but the recollection of his suppers and his' debts.  Neither must we commit the
crying sin of passing unnoticed and unhonoured the
utterly famous gastronomium  of the great DROZE,
master of the twelve sciences that go to the composition of a consummate cook; nor the flagrant injustice
of omitting to point the nose of the curious traveller
to Him of the New Masonic Hatl,* great in terrapin
soup - greater in fricassees and fricandeaux - greatest of all in a calf's head! Neither would we pass
over the modest merits of HIM OF THE GOOSE AND
GRIDIRON, who, like the skilful logician, can make
the worse appear the better reason, and convert, by
[* This building stood on the East side of Broadway, a little South of
Pearl street. It is figured and described in the New-York Mirror of September 26, 1829.]




22       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the magic of his art, material no more than so-so into
dishes worthy the palates of the most erudite members of the Turtle Club, whose soup and whose jests
are the delight of the universe. But we should never
have done, were we to pass in review an hundred, yea,
a thousand illustrious worthies, to be found in every
street and lane of this eating city, who tickle the cunning palate in all the varieties of purse and taste, from
a slice of roast beef and a glass of beer, at a shilling,
to grouse and canvas-backs, and Bingham wine, at
just as much as the landlord pleases. Suffice it to
say, that if, as the best practical philosophers do
maintain, the business of man's life is eating, there is
no place in the universe where he can live to such
exquisite purpose as in the renowned city of NEW
YORK. We have heard it confessed by divers morose
Englishmen, who had eaten and grumbled their way
through all parts of Europe where there was any
thing to eat, that they nowhere found such glorious
content of the palate as at this happy emporium of
all good things. If any corroboration of this testimony should be thought necessary, we will add the
experience of twenty-five years of travel in various
countries, during which we have tasted, by actual
computation, upwards of five thousand  different
dishes. Still further, to establish the glories of our
favourite city, we will adduce the authority of a
young gentleman, who travelled several years on the
continent, and approved himself a competent gourmand, by bringing home a confirmed dyspepsia. He
has permitted us to insert a letter written originally
to a friend at the south, which, besides setting forth
the excellent attractions of NEW YORK, exemplifies in




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       23
a most striking manner the benefits derived from
travel, which improving divertisement it is the design
of our work to encourage and provoke by all manner
of means. Truly did the great philosopher and moralist, Dr. Johnson, who passed all his life in the fear
of death, truly did he inculcate the superiority of the
knowledge derived from seeing, to all other knowledge. Who that hath visited the grand opera at
Paris, but will have, all his life after, a more vivid
impression of legs! Who that hath expatiated in
the vast eating-houses of New York and Paris, but
will cherish an increasing faith in the primary importance of the noble science of gastronomy! And who,
that has once beheld the magnificent contrast between the king and his beggarly subjects in some
parts of the old world, but must feel ennobled by the
example of what human nature is capable of, if properly cultivated! But to our purpose. The letter
alluded to is one of a series written by the members
of a most respectable family from the south, to which
we have politely been permitted access, and from
which we shall occasionally borrow some others.
STEPHEN GRIFFEN, ESQ. TO FRANK LATHAM.
NEW YORK,
Verily, Frank, this same New York is a place that
may be tolerated for a few weeks, with the assistance
of the Signorina, the unequalled cookery, and above
all the divine Madame. Only think of a real,
genuine opera-dancer in these parts! Five years ago,
I should as soon have expected to see an Indian wardance at the Theatre Franpais. It is really a vast




24       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
comfort to have something one can relish after Paris.
I think it bad policy for a young fellow to go abroad,
unless he can afford to spend the rest of his life in
New York. Coming home to a country life is like
going from high-seasoned dishes to ham and chickens.
Such polite people as one meets with abroad! they
never contradict you as long as you pay them what
they ask for every thing; —such a variety of dishes
to eat! why, Frank, a bill of fare at a Parisian hotel
is as long as a list of the passengers in Noah's ark or
a Liverpool packet, and comprehends as great a diversity of animals. Nothing can equal it, except New
York. And then, such a succession of amusements!
Nobody ever yawned in Paris, except one of the real
John Bulls, some of whom have their mouths always
open, either to eat or yawn. To see a fat fellow gaping in the Louvre, you would think he came there to
catch flies, as the alligators do, by lying with their
jaws extended half a yard. How I love to recall the
dear delights of the grand tour!  and, as I write at
thee, not to thee, Frank, I will incontinently please
myself at this present, by recapitulating, if it be only
to refresh my memory and make thee miserable at
thy utter ignorance of the world.
I staid abroad six years; just long enough to cast
my skin, or shed my shell, as the snakes and crabs do
every now and then. In France, I threw away my
clod-hopping shoes, and learned to dance. I got a
new stomach too, for I took vastly to Messrs. the
restaurateurs. In Italy, I was drawn up the Apennines by six horses and two pair of oxen, and went to
sleep every day for three weeks, at the feet of the Venus de Medici. There were other Venuses at whose




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.         25
feet I did not go to sleep. I was, moreover, deeply
inoculated, or rather, as the real genuine phrase is,
vaccinated, with a raving taste for music, and operadancing, which last, in countries where refinement is
got to such a pitch that nobody thinks of blushing,
is worth, as Mr. Jefferson says of Harper's Ferry, " a
voyage across the Atlantic." By the way, they have
an excellent custom  in Europe, which puts all the
women on a par.  They paint their faces so that one
can't tell whether they blush or not. Impudence and
modesty are thus on a level, and all is as it should
be.
Italy is indeed a fine place.. The women are so
sociable, and the men so polite. France does pretty
well; but even there they sometimes-particularly
since the brutifying revolution —they sometimes so
far forget themselves as to feel dishonour and resent
insult.  All this is owing to the bad example of that
upstart Napoleon, and his upstart officers. Now, in
Italy, when a gentleman of substance takes an affront,
he does not dirty his fingers with the affair; he hires
me a fellow whose trade is killing, and there is an
end of the matter.  Then it is such a cheap country.
Every thing is cheap, and women the cheapest of
all. Everything there, except pagan antiques, is for
sale; and you can buy heaven of his holiness, for a
hundred times less money than it costs to purchase
the torso of a heathen god without legs or arms.
In Germany, and especially at Vienna, they are
excessively devout, and -what I assure you is, in
very refined countries, not in the least incompatible
-exceedingly profligate at the same time. I mean
among the higher ranks.  This is one of the great




26       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
secrets a young fellow learns by going abroad. If he
makes good use of his time, his talents, and, above
all, his money, he will discover the secret of reconciling a breach of the whole decalogue with the most
exemplary piety. When I was first in Vienna, they
had the Mozart fever, and half the city was dying of
it. On my second visit, Beethoven was all the vogue.
He was as deaf as a post- yet played and composed
divinely; a proof- you, being of the pure Gothic, will
say  that music can be no great science, since it
requires neither ears nor understanding. Beethoven
had a long beard, and a most ferocious countenance;
there was no more music in it than in a lion's. He
was moreover excessively rude and disobliging, and
would not play for the emperor unless he was in the
humour. These peculiarities made him irresistible.
The Beethoven fever was worse than the Mozart
fever, a great deal. I ventured a third time to Vienna
-and Beethoven was starving. They were all running after a great preacher, who, from being the editor of a liberal paper, had turned monk, and preached
in favour of the divine right of the emperor, notwithstanding the diet and all that sort of trumpery. But
music is their passion: it is the source of their national pride.
I once said to a worthy banker who had charge of
my purse-strings — " Really, monsieur, you are very
loose in your morals, here."  "Yes, but we are the
most musical people in the world ", replied he triumphantly. " Your married ladies of fashion have such
crowds of lovers."  " Yes, but then they are so musical."  " And then, from the prime minister Prince
Metternich downwards, every man "of the least fash



THE NEW MIIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     27
ion is an intriguer among women."  "True, my dear
sir: but then Prince Metternich has a private operahouse, and you hear the divinest music there." "And
then the peasantry are in such a poor condition - so
ignorant." " Ignorant, sir - you mistake - there is
hardly one of them but can read music!"  Music
covers a multitude of sins at Vienna. It is worth
while to go to Vienna only to see the peasantry —
the female peasantry from the country, with bags,
picking up manure, and singing perhaps an air of
Mozart or Beethoven.
In England I got the last polish - that is to say, I
learned to box enough to get a black eye now and
then, in a set-to with a hackney-coachman, or an
insolent child of the night —videlicet, a watchman.
Moreover, I learned to give an uncivil answer to a
civil question; to contradict without ceremony; to
believe that an American mammoth was not half so
big as a Teeswater bull; that one canal was worth a
dozen rivers; that a railroad was still better than a
canal, and a tunnel better than either; that M'Adam
was a greater man than the Colossus of Rhodes; that
liberty was upon the whole rather a vulgar, ill-bred
minx; and that a nation without a king and nobility
was no better than a human body wanting that absolute requisite, the seat of honour. Finally, I brought
home a great number of clever improvements -to wit,
a head enlightened with a hundred conflicting notions
of religion, government, morals, music, painting, and
what not; and a heart divested of all those vulgarisms
concerning love of country, with which young Americans are apt to be impestered at home. Thus, I may
say I got rid of all my home-bred prejudices; for a man




28       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
can only truly be said to be without prejudices when
he has no decided opinions on any subject whatever.
Lastly, I had contracted a habit of liberal curiosity
which impelled me to run about and see all the fine
sights in the world. I would at any time travel a
hundred miles to visit an old castle, or ogle a Canova
or a Raphael. In short, I was a gentleman to all intents and purposes, for I could neither read, work,
walk, ride, sit still, nor devote myself to any one object,
for an hour at a time.
This was my motive for coming hither. I came in
search of sensation: whether derived from eating lobsters, or seeing opera-dancers, is all one to me. But,
alas!, what is there here to see, always excepting the
dinners and suppers, worth the trouble of opening
one of one's eyes, by a man who has seen the Opera
Frangais, the Palais Royal, the inside of a French
cook-shop, the Pantheon, St. Peter's, the carnival, the
coronation, and the punch of all puppet-shows, a legitimate king; besides rowing in a Venitian gondola, and
crossing Mont St. Bernard on a donkey! Last of all,
friend Frank, I brought home with me the genuine
patent of modern gentility- a dyspepsy, which I
caught at a famous restaurateur's, and helped to mature at the Palais Royal, where they sit up at nights,
eat late suppers, and lie abed till five o'clock in the
afternoon.
But this dyspepsy, though excessively high-bred at
that time, is now becoming vulgar. Since my arrival
here, I have actually heard brokers and lottery-officekeepers complain of it. Besides, it spoils the pleasure
of eating; and a man must have made the grand tour
to little purpose, not to know that eating is one of the




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       29
chief ends of man. I vegetated about for a year or
two, sans employment, sans amusement, sans every
thing- except dyspepsia. The doctor advised hard
work and abstinence, remedies ten times worse than
the disease - to a man who has made the grand tour.
" Get a wife, and go and live on a farm in the upper
country." "Marry, and live in the country! - not if it
would give me the digestion of an ostrich," exclaimed
Signior Stephen Griffen. By the way, this same
Christian name of mine is a bore. Griffen will do 
it smacks of heraldry; but Stephen puts one in mind
of that degenerate potentate whose breeches cost him
only half a crown, a circumstance in itself sufficient
to stamp him with ignominy unutterable. Be this as
it may, it pleased my doughty god-father, (whom I
shall never forgive for not giving me a better name),
to accede to the wishes of that exceedingly sensible
rice-fed damsel, his pet niece, and my predestined rib,
alias better half, to visit the springs at Ballston and
Saratoga-the great canal-the great falls-and
other great lions of these parts. So here we are established for ten days or a fortnight, for the purpose
of taking a preparatory course of lobsters, singers,
dancers, dust, and ashes.  Broadway is a perfect
cloud of dust. It has been M'Adamized-for which
may dust confound all concerned.
Thine, S. G.
The approach to New  York, either through the
Narrows or the Kills, as they are called, is conspicuously beautiful, and worthy of the excellent fare to
which the fortunate traveller who visits the city at
a proper season is destined. And here we must cau



30        THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
tion our readers to beware of all those unlucky months
that are without the fortunate letter, R, which may be
called the tutelary genius of oysters, inasmuch as no
oyster can enjoy the pleasure of being eaten in New
York during any of the barren months, which are
without this delightful consonant. It is against the
law, experience having demonstrated the ill effects of
indulging in these delicious dainties in hot weather
-witness the sudden deaths of divers common-councilmen after supper.  For this reason most of the
fashionable people go out of town during those infamous months that begin with  May and end with
August, not one of which contains the fortunate R,
there being nothing left worth  staying for.  This
period may justly be called the season of Lent. No
canvas-backs-  no venison -no grouse -  no lobsters
-no oysters; -nothing but lamb, and chicken, and
green peas!  No wonder all people of taste go out of
town; for, as a famous prize-poet writes,." Without all these, the town's a very curse,
Broadway a bore, the Battery still worse;
Wall Street the very focus of all evil,
Cook-shops a hell, and every cook the devil." *
New  York is not only beautiful in its approach,
beautiful in itself, and consummate in eating: its
liquors are inimitable -divine.  Who has not tasted
the " Bingham" - the " Marston" -  the "Nabob "
and the "Billy Ludlow!"  Above all, who has not
tasted of the unparalleled "Resurrection " wine -  so
called from its having once actually brought a man to
* See a prize-poem on the opening of the Goose and Gridiron, for which
the fortunate author received a collation and twelve oyster suppers, besides
having his mouth stuffed full of sugar-candy, after the manner of the Persian
poets.




THE NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.                  31
life, after he was stone-dead under the table. Nobody
that ever had any of this wine ever died until he had
no  more  of it left; and  a  famous physician  once
affirmed in our presence, that every drop was as good
as a drop of buoyant, frisky, youthful blood, added to
the body corporate. No wonder then that eating and
drinking is the great business of life in New York,
among  people  that can  or cannot afford  these  exquisite dainties, and that they talk of nothing else
at dinner;  for, as  the same  illustrious  prize-poet
has it,"Five senses were, by ever-bounteous heaven,
To the thrice-lucky son of Adam given.
Seeing, that he might drink e'en with his eyes,
And catch the promise that taste ratifies;
Hearing, that he might list the jingling glass,
That, were he blind, might unsuspected pass;
Smelling, that, when the rest, mayhap, are gone,
Will for their traitorous absence half-atone;
And feeling, which,,when the dim, shadowy sight,
No longer guides the pious pilgrim right,
Gropes its slow way unerring to the shop,
Where Dolly tosses up her mutton-chop,
And sacred steams of roasted oysters rise,
Like incense, to the lean and hungry skies."
Of the manner in which the various manceuvres of
gastronomy are got through with in  New  York, at
dinners and evening parties, the following, which we
have politely been permitted to copy from the unpublished letters we spoke of, will sufficiently apprise the
courteous reader. It is high ton throughout, we assure him, though there are at present some symptomatic indications of a change for the better-  (better
at least according to the notions of Colonel Culpeper)
-in the evening parties, from whence it is, we understand, contemplated to banish late hours, oysters, and




32      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
champagne. Against this last innovation we protest,
in the name of posterity and the immortal gods.
Banish beauty- banish grace -banish music, dancing, flirtation, ogling, and making love —but spare,
O spare us the oysters and champagne! What will
become of the brisk gallantry of the beaux, the elegant vivacity of the belles, the pleasures of anticipation, and the ineffable delights of fruition, if you
banish oysters and champagne?
The fashionable reader will be tempted to smile at
the colonel's antediluvian notions of style and goodbreeding; but what can you expect from a man born
and brought up among the high hills of Santee?
His strictures on waltzing are especially laughable.
What do women- we mean fashionable womendress and undress, wear bishops, and wind themselves
into the elegantly-lascivious motions of the waltz,
for?- but to excite sensation in the gentlemen, who
ought to be eternally grateful for the pains they
take.
COLONEL CULPEPER TO MAJOR BRANDE.
NEW YORK, May 6, 1827.
DEAR MAJOR,- I have been so occupied of late in
seeing sights, eating huge dinners, and going to evening parties to matronize Lucia, that I had no time
to write to you. The people here are very hospitable,
though not exactly after the manner of the high hills
of Santee. They give you a great dinner or evening
party, and then, as the sage Master Stephen Griffen is
pleased to observe, "let you run."  These dinners
seem to be in the nature of a spasmodic effort, which




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        33
exhausts the purse or the hospitality of the entertainer, and is followed by a collapse of retrenchment.
You recollect, who staid at my house during a
fit of illness, for six weeks, the year before last. He
has a fine house, the inside of which looks like an upholsterer's shop, and lives in style. He gave me an
invitation to dinner, at a fortnight's notice. I ate out
of a set of china, which, my lady assured me, cost
seven hundred dollars, and drank out of glasses that
cost a guinea a piece. In short, there was nothing on
the table of which I did not learn the value, most
especially the wine, some of which, mine entertainer
gave the company his word of honour, stood him in
eight dollars a bottle, besides the interest, and was
half a century old. I observed, very gravely, that it
bore its age so remarkably well that I really took it to
be in the full vigour of youth. Upon which all the
company set me down as a bore.
In place of the pleasant chit-chat and honest jollity
of better times, there was nothing talked of but the
quality of the gentlemen's wines, which, I observed,
were estimated entirely by their age and prices. One
boasted of his Bingham; another, of his Marston; a
third, of his Nabob; and a fourth, of his Billy Ludlow.
All this was Greek to me, who was obliged to sit
stupidly silent, having neither Bingham, nor Marston,
nor Nabob, nor Billy Ludlow; nor indeed any other.
wine of name or pedigree: for, the fact is, as you
very well know, my wine goes so fast, it has no time
to grow old.
But there was one pursy, pompous little man at
table, a foreigner I think, who (my lady whispered
me) was worth a million and a half of dollars, and
3




84      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
who beat the others all hollow. He actually had in his
garret a dozen of wine seventy years old, last grass,
that had been in his family fifty years —which, by
the way, as a sly neighbour on my right assured me,
was farther back than he could carry his own pedigree.
This seemed to raise him high above all competition,
and gave great effect to several of the very worst
jokes I ever heard. It occurred to me, however, that
his friends had been little the better for the wine thus
hoarded to brag about. For my part, I never yet met
a real honest, liberal, hospitable fellow that had much
old wine. Occasionally the conversation varied into
discussions as to who was the best judge of wine,
and there was a serious contest about a bottle of
Bingham and a bottle of Marston, which I was afraid
would end in a duel. All, however, bowed to the
supremacy of one particular old gentleman, who made
a bet that he would shut his eyes, hold his nose, and
distinguish between six different kinds of Madeira. I
did not think much of this, as a man don't drink wine
either with his eyes or nose; but politely expressed
my wonder, and smacked my lips, and cried, " Ah!"
in unison with this Winkelmann of wine-bibbers, like
a veritable connoisseur.
There can be no doubt that these dinners are genteel and splendid, because every body here says so.
But, between ourselves, major, I was wearied in spite
of Bingham and Marston, and the Nabob.  There
wanted the zest, the ease, the loose gown and slippers,
the elbow-room for the buoyant, frisky spirits to curvet
and gambol in a little; without which your Bingham
and canvas-backs are naught. In the midst of all this
display, I sighed for bacon and greens, and merry




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.         35
faces.*  As I am a Christian gentleman, there was
not the tithe of a good thing said at the table; and,
to my mind, eating and drinking good things is nothing without a little accompanying wit and humour as
sauce.  The little pursy, important man of a million,
it is true, succeeded several times in raising a laugh,
by the weight of his purse rather than the point of
his joke. The dinner lasted six hours, at the end
of which the company was more silent than at the
beginning, a sure sign of something being wanting.
For my part, I may truly affirm, I never was at a more
splendid dinner, or one more mortally dull. However,
my friend paid his debt of hospitality by it, for I have
not seen the inside of his house since. He apologizes
for not paying me any more attention, by saying his
house is all topsy-turvy with new papering and painting, but assures me that by the time we return in
autumn madam  will be in a condition to give us
a little party. I believe he holds me cheap, because I
have no dear wine that stands me in eight dollars
a bottle.'Tis the fashion of the times, so let it pass. But,
fashion or not, nothing in the range of common-sense
can rescue this habit of cumbrous display and clumsy
ostentation from the reproach of bad taste and vulgarity. This loading of the table with costly finery, and
challenging our admiration by giving us the price of
each article; this boasting of the age, the goodness,
and, above all, the cost, of the wine, is little better
than telling the guests, they are neither judges of
what is valuable in furniture, nor commendable in
* It is plain the colonel knows nothing of Tournure. Bacon and greens
-stuff!




36      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
wines. Why not let them find these things out, themselves; or remain in most happy ignorance of the
price of a set of china, and the age of a bottle of
wine. It is for the tradesman to brag of his wares,
and the wine-merchant of his wines, because they
wish to sell them; but the giver of good things should
never overwhelm the receiver with the weight of gratitude, by telling him their value.
From the dinner-party, which broke up at nine,
I accompanied the young people to a tea-party, being
desirous of shaking off the heaviness of that modern
merry-making. We arrived about a quarter before
ten, and found the servant just lighting the lamps.
There was not another soul in the room. He assured
me the lady would be down to receive us in half an
hour, being then under the hands of Monsieur Manuel,
the hair-dresser, who was engaged till nine o'clock
with other ladies. You must know this Manuel is
the fashionable hair-dresser of the city, and it is not
uncommon for ladies to get their heads dressed the
day before they are wanted, and to sit up all night to
preserve them in their proper buckram rigidity. Monsieur Manuel, as I hear, has two dollars per head, besides a dollar for coach-hire, it being utterly impossible for monsieur to walk. His time is too precious.
We had plenty of leisure to admire the rooms and
decorations, for Monsieur Manuel was in no hurry.
I took a nap on the sofa, under a superb lustre which
shed a quantity of its honours upon my best merino
coat, sprinkling  it handsomely with spermaceti.
About half past ten, the lady entered in all the colours of the rainbow and all the extravagance of
vulgar finery. I took particular notice of her head,




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        37
which, beyond doubt, was the masterpiece of Monsieur Manuel. It was divested of all its natural features, which I suppose is the perfection of art. There
was nothing about it which looked like hair, except
it might be petrified hair. All the graceful waving
lightness of this most beautiful gift of woman was
lost in curls, stiff and ungraceful as deformity could
make them, and hair plastered to the head till it glistened like an overheated " gentleman of colour." She
made something like an apology for not being ready
to receive us, which turned, however, pretty much on
not expecting any company at such an early hour.
Between ten and eleven, the company began to drop
in; but the real fashionables did not arrive till about
half past eleven, by which time the room was pretty
well filled.  It was what they call a conversation
party, one at which neither cards nor dancing made
up any part of the amusement; of course therefore
I expected to enjoy some agreeable chit-chat. Old
bachelor as I am, and for ladies' love unfit, still I delight in the smiles of beauty; and the music of a sweet
voice speaking intelligence is to me sweeter than the
harmony of the spheres, or the Italian opera.
Accordingly, I made interest for introductions to
two or three of the most promising faces, and attempted a little small-talk. The first of these ladies
commenced by asking me in a voice that almost made
me jump out of my seat, if I had been at Mrs. Somebody's party, last week?  To the which I replied in
the negative. After a moment's pause, she asked me
if I was going to Mrs. Somebody's party, the next
evening?  To the which, in like manner, I replied in
the negative. Another pause, and another question,




38      THE NEW. MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
whether I was acquainted with another Mrs. Somebody, who was going to give a party? To this I was
obliged to give another negation; when the young
lady, espying a vacant seat in a corner on the opposite
side, took flight without ceremony, and, by a puss-inthe-corner movement, seated herself beside another
young lady, with whom she entered into conversation
with a most interesting volubility.
Though somewhat discouraged, I tried my fortune
a second time, with a pale, delicate, and interestinglooking little girl, who I had fancied to myself was of
ethereal race and lived upon air, she looked so light
and graceful. By way of entering-wedge, I asked her
the name of a lady, who, by the bye, had nothing
very particular about her, except her dress, which was
extravagantly fine. My imaginary sylph began to expatiate upon its beauty and taste in a most eloquent
manner, and concluded by saying: "But it's a pity
she wears it so often."  Why so?  ", why-because." Is it the worse for wear?  " 0 dear, no; but
then one sees it so often." But, if'tis handsome, the
oftener the better, I should think; beauty cannot be
too often contemplated, said I, looking in her face
rather significantly.  What effect this might have
had upon her I can't say, for, just then, I observed a
mysterious agitation among the company, which was
immediately followed by the appearance of a number
of little tables, wheeled into the room by servants in
great force, and covered with splendid services of
china, filled with pickled oysters, oyster soup, celery,
dressed lobsters, ducks, turkeys, pastry, confectionery,
and the Lord knows what besides. My little ethereal
upon this started up, seated herself at a little round




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       39
marble table which was placed in the middle of the
room, and commenced her supper, by the aid of two
obsequious swains who waited on her with the spoils
of the grand table. I never could bear to see a young
woman eat when I was a young man, and I have
never seen above half a dozen ladies who knew how
to manage the work with pure sentimental indifference.
It is at the best but a vulgar, earthly, matter-of-fact
business, and brings all people on a level, belles and
beaux, refined and not refined. It is, in truth, a sheer
animal gratification, and a young lady should never,
if possible, let her lover see her eat, until after marriage.
Now, major, let me premise, that I am not going to
romance one tittle when I tell you I was astounded at
the trencher-feats of my little sylph. It was not in
the spirit of ill-natured espionage, I assure you, that I
happened to look at her as she took her seat at the
little round table; but, having once looked, I was
fascinated to the spot. Here follows a bill of fare
which she discussed, and I am willing to swear to
every item.
Imprimis - Pickled oysters.
Item - Oyster soup.
Item - Dressed lobster and celery.
Item - Two jellies.
Item- Macaroons.
Item - Kisses.
Item - Whip-syllabub.
Item - Blanc-mange.
Item - Ice-creams.
Item - Floating-island.




40       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Item - Alamode beef.
Item - Cold turkey.
Item - A partridge wing.
Item - Roast duck and onions.
Item - Three glasses of brown stout, &c. &c.
Do you remember the fairy-tale, where a man eats
as much bread in a quarter of an hour as served a
whole city?  I never believed a word of it till now.
But all this is vulgar, you will say. Even so; but
the vulgarity consists in eating so horrifically, not in
noticing it.  The thing is essentially ill-bred, and,
should this practice continue to gain ground, there is
not the least doubt that the number of old bachelors
and maidens will continue to increase and multiply,
in a manner quite contrary to Scripture.  To conclude this heart-rending subject, I venture to affirm
that assemblages of this kind ought to be called eating, instead of tea-drinking, or conversation, parties.
Their relative excellence and attraction is always estimated, among the really fashionable, refined people,
by the quality and quantity of the eatables and drinkables. One great requisite is plenty of oysters; but
the sine qua non is oceans of champagne. Master
Stephen, who is high authority in a case of this sort,
pronounced this party quite unexceptionable, for there
was little conversation, a great deal of eating, and the
champagne so plenty, that nine first-rate dandies (including himself) got so merry that they fell fast asleep
on the lounges of the supper-room up stairs. I can
answer for king Stephen, who was discovered in this
situation at three in the morning when the fashionables began to think of going home.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      41
For my part, major, I honestly confess, I was again
wearied, even unto yawning desperately in the very
teeth of beauty. But I don't lay it altogether to the
charge of the party, being somewhat inclined to suspect that the jokes of the little man of a million, and
the Bingham wine, were partly at the bottom of the
business. I wonder how it came into the heads of
people of a moderate common-sense, that old wine
could ever make people feel young, and, consequently,
merry. There is gout, past, present and future —gout
personal, real, and hereditary -lurking at the bottom
of old wine; and nothing can possibly prevent this
universal consequence of drinking it, but a natural
and incurable vulgarity of constitution, which cannot
assimilate itself to a disease of such genteel origin.
I have since been at several of these first-rate fashionable conversaziones, where there was almost the
same company, the same eatables and drinkables, and
the same lack of pleasing and vivacious chat. I
sidled up to several little groups, whose loud laugh
and promising gestures induced me to believe there
was something pleasant going on. But I assure you
nothing could equal the vapid insignificance of their
talk. There was nothing in it, but, " La, were you at
the ball last night? "- and then an obstreperous roar
of ill-bred, noisy laughter. There is no harm in people talking in this way, but it is a cruel deceit upon
the unwary, to allure a man into listening. In making my observations, it struck me that many of the
young ladies looked sleepy, and the elderly ones did
certainly yawn most unmercifully. There was, at one
of these polite stuffings, an elderly lady, between
whose jaws and mine a desperate sympathy grew up




42      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
and flourished. Our mouths, if not our eyes, may
truly be said to have met in this accord of inanity,
and twenty times in the course of the evening did we
involuntarily exchange these tokens of mutual goodunderstanding. The next party we happened to meet
at, I determined to practise the most resolute selfdenial. But it would not do; there was an awful
and irresistible attraction about the maelstrom of her
mouth, that drew me toward its vortex, and we have
continued to yawn at each other whenever we have
met since. Wherever I turn my eyes, the cavern opes
before me, and my old habit df yawning has become
ten times more despotic than ever.
But, seriously speaking, it is not to be wondered at
that the indefatigable votaries of fashion should look
sleepy at these parties. Some of them have sat up
all the night before, perhaps, in order not to discompose the awful curls of Monsieur Manuel. Others,
(and, I am told, the major part of them), have been at
parties five nights in the week, for two or three months
past. You will recollect that, owing to the absurd
and ridiculous aping of foreign whims and fashions,
these evening parties do not commence till the evening is past, nor end till the morning is come. Hence
it is impossible to go to one of them without losing
a whole night's rest, which is to be made up by lying
in bed the greater part of the next day. Such a
course, for a whole season, must prostrate the physical and moral strength, and convert a young woman
into a mere machine, to be wound up for a few hours
by the artificial excitements of the splendours of
wealth, the vain gratification of temporary admiration,
or the more substantial stimulus of the bill of fare of




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       43
the sylph ethereal aforesaid. It is no wonder that
their persons are jaded, their eyes sunk, their chests
flattened, their sprightliness repressed by midnight
revels, and that they supply the absence of all these
by artificial allurements of dress, and artificial pulmonic vivacity. You will wonder to hear a chivalrous
old bachelor rail at this ill-natured rate. But, the
truth is, I admire the last best work so fervently, that
I can't endure to see it spoiled and sophisticated by a
preposterous imitation of what is called the fashion;
and so love the native charms of our native beauties,
that it grieves my heart and rouses my ire to see them
thus blighted and destroyed, in the midnight chase of
a phantom miscalled pleasure.
Not three years ago, I am told, it was the custom
to go to a party at eight, and come away at twelve, or
sooner. By this sober and rational arrangement, a
young lady might indulge in the very excess of fashionable dissipation, without absolutely withering the
roses of her cheeks, and dying at thirty of premature
old age. But, in an evil hour, some puppy, who, like
my Master Stephen, had seen the world, or some silly
woman that had been three months abroad, came
home, and turned up the nose at these early vulgarities —telling how the fashionable parties began at
midnight and ended at sunrise, and how the foreigners
all laughed at the vulgar hours of the vulgar parties
of the vulgar republicans.  This was enough. Mistress Somebody, the wife of Mr. Such-a-one, who had
a fine house in a certain street, "with folding doors
and marble mantel-pieces," and all that sort of thing,
set the fashion, and now the gentility of a party is estimated in no small degree by the hour. If you want




44      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
to be tolerably genteel, you must not go till half past
nine - if very genteel, at ten - if exceedingly genteel,
at eleven; -but if you want to be superlatively genteel, you must not make your appearance till twelve.
The crying absurdity of this disposition, in a
society where almost every person at these parties has
business or duties of some kind to attend to by nine
o'clock the next day, must be apparent. The whole
thing is at war with the state of society here, and incompatible with the system of domestic arrangements
and out-door business. It is a pitiful aping of people
abroad, whose sole pursuit is pleasure, and who can
turn day into night, and night into day, without paying any other penalty than the loss of health and the
abandonment of all pretensions to usefulness. If our
travelled gentry cannot bring home something more
valuable than these mischievous absurdities, they had
better stay at home. They remind me of our good
friend Sloper, who spent seven years, travelling in the
east, and brought nothing home with him but an
excellent mode of spoiling rice and chickens, by cooking them after the Arabian fashion.
Among the most disgusting of these importations
is the fashion of waltzing, which is becoming common
here of late. It was introduced, as I understand, by
a party of would-be fashionables, that saw it practised
at the operas with such enchanting languor, grace,
and lasciviousness, that they fell in love with it, and
determined to bless their country by transplanting the
precious exotic. I would not be understood as censuring those nations among whom the waltz is, as it
were, indigenous —a national dance. Habit, example, and practice from their earliest youth, accustom




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       45
the women of these countries to the exhibition, and
excuse it. But for an American woman, with all her
habits and opinions already formed, accustomed to
certain restraints, and reared in certain notions of
propriety, to rush at once into a waltz, and to brave
the just sentiment of the delicate of her own and the
other sex with whom she has been brought up and
continues to associate, is little creditable to her good
sense, her delicacy, or her morals. Every woman
does, or ought to, know, that she cannot exhibit herself in the whirling and voluptuous windings of a
waltz, without calling up in the minds of men feelings and associations unworthy the dignity and purity
of a delicate female. The free motions - the upturned eyes - the die-away languors - the dizzy circlings - the twining arms - the projecting front - all
combine to waken in the bosom of the spectator analogies, associations, and passions, which no woman,
who values the respect of the world, ought ever willfully to challenge or excite.
I must not forget one thing that amused me, amid
all this aping and ostentation. I was at first struck
with the profusion of servants, lamps, china, and silver forks at these parties; and could not help admiring the magnificence of the entertainer, as well as his
wealth. But by degrees it began to strike me, that I
had seen these things before; and at last I fairly detected a splendid tureen, together with divers elegant
chandeliers and lamps, which I had actually admired
the night before at a party in another part of the
town. As to my old friend Simon, and his squires
of the body, he and I are hand and glove. I see him
and his people, and the tureen, and the china, and the




46       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
lamps, everywhere.  They are all hired, in imitation
of the fashionable people abroad.  They undertake
for every thing here, from furnishing a party to burying a Christian. I can't help thinking it is a paltry
attempt at style. But adieu, for the present. I am
tired - are not you?
If ever the pure and perfect system of equality was
completely exemplified upon earth, it will be found in
New  York, where it is the fashion to dress without
any regard to time, purse, station. There is no place
where the absurd, antiquated maxim, about cutting
your coat according to your cloth, is so properly and
consummately cut, as here, where a full dress is indispensable on all occasions, particularly in walking
Broadway or going to church.  Whoever wishes to
see beauty in all its glory must walk Broadway of a
morning, or visit a fashionable church —for there is
a fashion in churches -on a fine Sunday.  On these
occasions it is delightfully refreshing to see a fashionable, looking like a ship on a gala-day, dressed in the
flags of all nations. Many cynical blockheads, who
are at least a hundred years behind the march of
mind and the progress of public improvements, affect
to say that this beautiful and florid style of dressing
in the streets or at church is vulgar; but we denounce such flagrant fopperies of opinion, maintaining that, so far from being reprehensible, it is perfectly
natural, and therefore perfectly proper. The love of
finery is inherent in our nature; it is an inborn appetite: and all experience indicates that the more ignorant and unsophisticated people are, the more fond
are they of gewgaws. The negro, (meaning no of



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.         47
fence, as it is an illustration, not a comparison), the
African negro adores a painted gourd, decked with
feathers of all colours; the Nooheevans affect the
splendours of a great whale's-tooth; the Esquimaux
will starve themselves, to purchase a clam-shell of red
paint; the Indians sell their lands for red leggins and
tin medals; and the whites run in debt for birds-ofparadise, French hats, travelling-chains, and Cashmere shawls.  All this is as it should be, and, so far
from betokening effeminacy or undue refinement, is
a sure indication of an approach to the primitive
simplicity of nature.
This barbarous, or, more properly, natural, taste or
passion for finery pervades all classes of people in this
delightful city, and if there is any superiority of dress
observable, it is among the most vulgar and ignorant;
in other words, those who are nearest to a state of
nature.  The maid is, if possible, finer than the mistress; displays as many feathers and flowers, and
exhibits the same rigidity of baked curls, so that, in
walking the streets, were it not for that infallible
private mark of a gentlewoman, the foot and ankle,
nobody but their friends could tell the difference.
There are, as we have been credibly informed, Lombard and Banking Companies incorporated by the
legislature, on purpose to maintain this beautiful
equality in dress, every article of which, from  a
worked muslin to a lace veil, may be hired, " at prices
to accommodate customers," so that a fine lady can
be fitted out for a cruise, at a minute's warning.
This beautiful exemplification of a perfect equality
extends to the male sex also. He that brushes his
master's coat often wears a better coat than his mas



48       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
ter; and Cuffee himself, the free gentleman of colour,
struts up and down Broadway, arm-in-arm, fourabreast, elbowing the fine ladies, clothed from head to
foot in regent's-cloth of fourteen dollars the yard. All
this redounds unutterably to the renown of the city,
and causes it to be the delight of sojourners and travellers, who, instead of having their eyes offended and
their feelings outraged by exhibitions of inglorious
linsey-woolsey and vulgar calico, see nothing all
around them but a universal diffusion of happiness.
What is it to us tourists where the money comes
from, or who pays for all this? The records of bankruptcy and the annals of the police are not the polite
studies of us men of pleasure, nor have we any concern with the insides of houses or the secrets of domestic life, so long as the streets look gay, and every
body in them seems happy.  What is it to us, if the
husband or the father of the gay butterfly we admire
as she flutters along, clothed in the spoils of the four
quarters of the globe, is at that very moment shivering in the jaws of bankruptcy, perspiring out his
harassed soul in inward anxieties to weather another
day of miserable splendours, and resorting to all the
mean, degrading expedients of the times, to deceive
the world a little longer. The city is charming - the
theatres and churches are full of splendours; the
hotels and boarding-houses abound in all that can
pamper the appetite; the habitations are all showily furnished; all that we see is delightful; and as
to what we don't see, it exists not to us. We travellers belong to the world, and the world, with the exception of its cares and troubles, belongs to us.
Now, as there is a highly meritorious class of travel



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        49
lers, who are almost continually in motion and never
stay long in one place if they can help it, to whom it
may be important to know the secrets of the art of
living, as the butterflies live, without toiling or spinning, and tasting all the fruits of the field without
having any fields themselves, we commend them to
the records of bankruptcy, the police, and the QuarterSessions. It is there they will become adepts in this
most important of all branches of human knowledge.
Any fool may live by working and saving: but to live,
and live well too, by idleness and unthrift — to enjoy
the luxuries of taverns, fine clothes, canvas-backs,
turtle-soup, and Bingham wine, without money, and
without credit -is the summum bonum, and can only
be attained by long experience, and a close attendance
upon the police-courts.  If High-Constable Hays
would only give to the world, agreeably to the fashion
of the times, his " Reminiscences," what a treasure
they would be to the class of tourists we are addressing   There they might behold the grand drama of
life behind the scenes, and under the stage; there they
might learn how to dress elegantly at the expense of
those stupid blockheads who prefer living by the
sweat of their own brows to living by the sweat of
those of other people; there they would be taught by
a thousand examples, not how to cut their coats according to their own cloth, but that of their neighbours, and learn how easy it is to be a fine gentleman
-that is to say, to live at a hotel, get credit with
a tailor, diddle the landlord and the doctor, and pick
a few pockets and a few locks, by way of furnishing
one's self with a watch and a diamond breast-pin.
There, too, they would learn how a little staining of the
4




50      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
whiskers, a new wig, and an alias, enable a man
to come forth from the state-prison, "redeemed, regenerated, and disenthralled," by the irresistible genius
of universal philanthropy. Seriously therefore do we
hope the high-constable will employ his otium cum
dignitate in a work of this kind, for the benefit of the
inexperienced in the art of raising the wind.
But to return from this digression, which we have
indulged in from motives of pure philanthropy. By
the way, we shall frequently, in the course of this
work, encourage these little excursive irregularities of
the pen, being firmly of opinion that no person ought
to make the Grand Northern Tour who has any better
use for his money than in buying, or for his time than
in reading, this book.
In New York there is an unfailing round of amusements, for every hour of the day as well as the night.
There is the Academy of Arts, where the amateur
of painting may see pictures which cost more than
Domenichino received for his communion of St. Jerome, or. Raphael for his masterpiece; and which,
strange to say, are not worth above half as much.
Nothing is more easy than to kill an hour or two of a
dull morning at the Academy, from whence we would
advise the intelligent tourist, if of the male sex, to
adjourn to the far famed gastronomium, (in the vernacular, oyster-stand), of Jerry Duncan, who certainly
opens an oyster with more grace and tournure than
any man living. But alas! how' few — how very few,
in this degenerate age, understand the glorious mysteries of eating! Some fry their oysters in batterinfamous custom!  Some sophisticate them with
pepper and salt — (that ought to be a state-prison




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      51
offence!) -some with vinegar and butter- (away
with them  to the tread-mill!) Others stew, broil,
roast, or make them into villanous pies - hard labour
for life, or solitary imprisonment, ought to be the lot
of these. And others, O murder most foul!, cut them
in two before they eat them; a practice held in utter
abhorrence by all persons of common humanity 
this ought to be death by the law. As our reader
loves oysters - as he aspires to become an adept in
the great science- as he hopes to be saved- let him
never cut his oyster in two pieces, or eat it otherwise
than raw. If his mouth is not large enough to swallow it whole, let him leave it with a sigh to the lips
of some more fortunate being, to whom nature has
been more bountiful. A reasonable sojourn at Jerry's
will bring round the hour to one o'clock, when it is
proper to take the field in Broadway, or at least to go
home and prepare for that solemn duty. From this
till dinner, the intelligent tourist can employ his time
to great advantage, in walking back and forth from
the Battery to the south corner of Chambers Street.
Beyond this he must not stir a step, as all besides
is terra incognita to the fashionable world. People
will think you are going to Cheapside, or Bond Street,
or Hudson Square, or some other haberdashery place,
to buy bargains, if you are found beyond the north
corner of the Park. At three, return to your lodgings
to dress for dinner. This must positively be celebrated in Broadway, in one of those majestic old
houses which the piety of young heirs consecrates to
the god of eating, in honour of their ancestors. We
are not ignorant that some ill-natured people affirm
this is not their motive, but that they are actuated by




52       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the filthy lucre of gain, in thus turning their fathers'
homes into dens of tourists; but we ourselves are
fully convinced they are impelled by sheer public
spirit, warmed by the irresistible effervescence of
universal philanthropy, the warmth of which pervades
this whole city, insomuch that there is scarcely a place
extant where people are more cordially taken in. Let
no one blame these pious young heirs, since, in the
east, nobody but kings and saints built caravanseras
for the accommodation of travellers; and, in the west,
none but people of a devout and royal spirit erect
taverns. The only difference is, and it is not very
material, the caravanseras charge nothing for lodging
travellers, and the taverns make them pay double.
And now  comes the hour-the most important
hour of every day between the cradle and the grave -
THE DINNER HOUR! On this point it is necessary to be
particular. Look out for the sheep's-head, the venison,
the canvas-backs. Don't let your eyes, any more than
your mouth, be idle a moment; but be careful not to
waste your energies on common-place dishes. First,
eat your soup as quick as possible without burning
your mouth. Then your fish  then your venison -
then your miscellaneous delights- and conclude with
game.  At the climax comes the immortal canvasback, whose peculiar location to the south,* in our
opinion gives a decided superiority to that favoured
portion of the universe; and entitles it to furnish the
less favoured parts of the United States with presidents, so long as it furnishes us with this incomparable water-fowl.  From our souls, which according to
* We have heard that canvas-backs have been seen in Rhode Island. If
the natives can prove this, we think they ought to furnish the next president.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       53
some good authorities are seated in the palate - from
our souls, we pity the wretched inhabitants of the old
world   wretched in the absence of even tolerable
oysters, and wretched beyond all wretchedness in the
utter destitution of canvas-backs and Newtown pippins.
Respecting wines, there is some diversity of opinion. Some prefer French wines, such as Burgundy,
Chateau-Margaux, Lafitte, Latour, Sauterne, and Sillery. Others affect the purple and amber juices of
the Rhine, affirming that the real Johannisberg is inimitable. Others again prefer the more substantial
product of Spain, Portugal, and the veritable Hesperides - the group of the Madeiras -maintaining that
the existence of the people of this world, before the
discovery of these last, is one of those miracles not to
be accounted for, like that of a toad in a block of
marble. As there is no such thing as accounting for
tastes, or reconciling them, we would propose an
amicable medium, that of sipping a little of each in
the course of the afternoon, thus reconciling the conflicting claims of these most exquisite competitors.
A bottle of each would be rather too much for the
head or pocket of a single amateur, wherefore we
would recommend some half a dozen to club their
wines, by which means this objection would be obviated. By the time these ceremonies are got through,
the company will be in a condition to adjourn to the
theatres, with a proper zest for the Flying Dutchman,
Peter Wilkins, and " I've been roaming."  After sitting or sleeping out these elegant spectacles, it is reasonable to suppose our traveller will be hungry, and,
being hungry, it is reasonable that he should eat.




54       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Wherefore it is our serious advice that he adjourn forthwith to the Goose and Gridiron. After partaking of a
good supper there he may go anywhere he pleases,
except home, it being proper that a rational and enlightened traveller should make the most of his time.
To the young female tourist, encumbered with time
and papa's money, New York affords inexhaustible
resources.  The mere amusement of dressing for
breakfast, for Broadway, and for dinner, and undressing for evening parties, is a never-failing refuge from
ennui. In the intervals between dressing, shopping,
visiting, and receiving visits, it is advisable for her, if
she is fond of retirement and literary pursuits, to seat
herself at one of the front windows, on the groundfloor of the hotel, with a Waverley or a Cooper, where
she can comport herself after the fashion of people in
divers old-fashioned pictures which I have seen; that
is to say, hold her book open, and at the same time
complacently contemplate the spectators. The following list of " Resources" is confidently recommended to
our female travelling readers.
Lying in bed till ten.
Dressing for breakfast. N. B. If there is nobody
in the hotel worth dressing for, any thing will do: or,
better, take breakfast in bed, and another nap.
Breakfast till eleven. N. B. It is not advisable to
eat canvas-backs, oysters, or lobsters, at breakfast. A
little smoked salmon, a modicum of frizzled beef, or a
bit of chicken about as big as a bee's wing, is all that
can safely be indulged. N. B. Beefsteaks and mutton-chops are wholly inadmissible, except for married
ladies.
Twelve to one. Dress for shopping. N. B. The




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.         55
female tourist must put on her best, it being the fashion in New York for ladies and their maids to dress
for walking as if they were going to church or a ball.
Care must be taken to guard against damp pavements,
by putting on prunello shoes. If the weather is dry,
white satin is preferable.
One till three. Sauntering up and down Broadway,
and diversifying the pleasure by a little miscellaneous
shopping —looking in at the milliners, the jewellers,
&c. N. B. No lady should hesitate to buy any thing
because she does not want it, since this dealing in
superfluities is the very essence of everything genteel.
Above all, never return home but with an empty
purse.
At three, the brokers, who set the fashion in New
York, go home to their canvas-backs and Bingham
wine, and it becomes vulgar to be seen in Broadway.
Dinner at four, the earliest hour permitted among
people of pretensions. Owing to the barbarous practice of banishing ladies from all participation in the
learned discussions of wines, the period between dinner and dressing for the evening party is the most
trying portion of female existence. If they walk in
Broadway, they will see nobody worth seeing; of
course, there is no use in walking. A nap, or a Waverley, or perhaps both, is the only resource.
It will be expedient to wake up at eight, for the
purpose of dressing for a party; else there is no earthly
reason why you may not sleep till half-past-ten or
eleven, when it is time to think of going, or you may
possibly miss some of the refreshments.  N. B. A
lady may eat as much as she pleases at a ball, or a
conversazione.




56       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Should there be no party for the evening, the theatres are a never-failing resource of intellectual enjoyment. The sublime actions of The Flying Dutchman
and Peter Wilkins, and the sublime displays in " I've
been roaming," t cannot fail to enlighten the understanding, refine the taste, and improve the morals of
the rising generation, as well as, if not better than,
bridewell or the penitentiary. N. B. The bashful ladies
generally shut both their eyes at, " I've been roaming."
Those who retain a fragment of the faculty of blushing, open only one eye; but such as are afraid of
nothing, use a quizzing-glass, that nothing may escape them.
After all, there is nobody that can do full justice to
the ever-changing shadows and lights of fashionable
dress, manners, and amusements, but a sprightly girl,
just come out with all her soaring anticipations unclipped by experience, and all her capacities of enjoyment fresh and unsoiled.  We will therefore take
occasion to insert in this place two letters, written by
a young lady of the party from whose correspondence
we have already made such liberal selections.
LUCIA CULPEPER TO MARIA MEYNELL.
NEW YORK,
MY DEAR MARIA, - I could live here forever.  We
have a charming suite of rooms fronting on Broadway, that would be a perfect paradise, were it not
[ " Peter Wilkins, or The Flying Islanders," and "The Flying Dutchman", were spectacular dramas of the day -the first-named, fairy, the second, nautical.]
[t This was a song arranged by Charles E. Horn for Madame Vestris, in
London.]




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       57
for the noise, which prevents one's hearing one's self
speak, and the dust, which prevents one's seeing.
But still it is delightful to sit at the window with a
Waverley, and see the moving world forever passing
to and fro, with unceasing footsteps. Everybody, as
well as everything, appears to be in motion. The
carriages rattle through the streets; the carts dance as
if they were running races with them; the ladies trip
along in all the colours of the rainbow; and the gentlemen look as though they actually had something
to do. They all walk as if they were in a hurry.. On
my remarking this to my uncle, he replied, in his
usual sarcastic manner:' Yes, they all seem as if they
were running away from an indictment."  I did not
comprehend what he meant. Every thing is so differrent, that it does not seem to me possible that I should
be in the same wbrld, or that I am the same person I
was a month ago.
Sitting at my window on the high hills of Santee,
I saw nothing but the repose, the stillness, and the
majesty of nature. At a distance, and all around,
the world was no more than a faint outline of blue
mountains that seemed almost incorporated with the
skies. Nothing moved around me, but the mists of
morning, rising at the beck of the sun; the passing
clouds; the waving foliage of the trees; the little
river winding through the valley; and the sun riding
athwart the heavens. The silence was only interrupted at intervals by the voice or the whistle of the
blacks, about the house or in the fields; the lowing
of the cattle wandering in the recesses of the hills;
the echo of the hunter's gun, or the crash of the falling tree; the soft murmurings of the river under the




58       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
window; and, sometimes, the roaring of the whirlwind through the forest, or the reverberation of the
thunder among the distant rocks. My uncle was
master of all that could be seen without - I, mistress
of all within. There all was nature- here all is art.
Every thing is made with hands, except the living
things; and, of these, the ladies and gentlemen may
fairly be set down as the work of the milliners and
tailors. Even the horses are sophisticated, as my uncle will have it; and, instead of having long, flowing
tails and manes, amble about with ears, tail, and
mane cropt, as if they had been under the hands of
the barber.
But when I look in the glass, it seems that not all
the changes of animate and inanimate nature equal
those I exhibit in my own person. The morning
after I came here, I received a circular; don't let
your eyes start out of your head, Maria-yes, a circular: and from whom  do you suppose? Why, a
milliner! Only think what a person of consequence
I must be, all at once  It informed me, in the politest
terms, that Madame       had just received an assortment of the latest Paris fashions, which would be
opened for inspection the next day.  I was determined to have the first choice of a hat; so I got up
early, and proceeded with Henney to the milliner's
rooms, which, to my great surprise, I found full of
fine ladies, who, as I afterwards understood, had not
been up at such an hour since the last fashionable exhibition of Parisian finery. You never saw such a
crowd; such tumbling of silks and gauzes; such perplexity of choice; such profound doubts; such hesitating decision; such asking of everybody's opinions,




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       59
and following none; and such lingering, endless examinations. There was one lady that tried on every
hat in the place, and went away at last in despair. I
don't wonder, for it was the choice of Hercules, not
between two, but between hundreds. For my part,
I did nothing but wonder. You never saw such curiosities as these Parisian hats. It is quite impossible
to describe them: I can only give you an idea of the
size, by saying that mine, which is very moderate,
measures three feet across, and has a suit of embellishments, bows, puffs, points, feathers, flowers, and
wheat-sheaves, that make it look almost twice as
large. The rule is, here, for the smallest ladies to
wear the largest hats, so that my uncle insists upon
it they look like toad-stools, with a vast head and a
little stem. Mine was the cheapest thing ever offered
for sale in New York, as madame assured me; it
cost only twenty-eight dollars. It would not go into
the bandbox, so Henney paraded it in her hand. A
man on horseback met her just as she was turning a
corner, and the horse was so frightened that he reared
backwards and came very near throwing his rider.
One of our horses is lame, and my uncle has advertised for one that can stand the encounter of a
full-dressed fine lady. If he can do that, the old gentleman says, he can stand any thing.
The next thing I did was to bespeak a couple of
walking-dresses - one of batiste, the other of silk
plaid. They cost me only fifty-six dollars, which was
quite moderate, seeing they had, or were said to have,
in the bill, ninety odd yards of one thing or another in
them. I believe I must drop my money in the street,
for I am almost ashamed to apply to my uncle so




60      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
often. He takes it all good-humouredly, for he is a
generous old soul - only he has his revenge, in laughing at me, and comparing me to all sorts of queer
things. I was surprised, when I first went out, to
see what beautiful curling hair they all had - ladies,
ladies' maids, and little babies, all had the most
charming profusion you ever saw. This struck me
very much, as you know very few have curling hair to
the south, except the negroes. And such curls, too!'Dear me, Maria, it would make your hair stand on
end to see them. They look more like sausages than
any thing else -and I thought, to be sure, they must
be starched. On expressing my admiration to Stephen, he laughed outrageously, and assured me most
solemnly, that every one of these sausages was
purchased —not at the sausage-makers, but at the
curl-shops, where you could buy them either of horsehair, mohair, or human hair, and of any size and colour you pleased. He assured me it was impossible
to live five minutes in New York without them, and
advised me to procure a set without delay. You'd
laugh to see mine. They are as stiff as the powder
and pomatum  of Doctor Brady's wig could make
them: they are hollow in the middle, which my uncle
assures me is very convenient, now that the ladies
wear no pockets.  One can put a variety of small
matters in them as we did in our muffs, formerly.
Do you know, they bake them in the oven to make
them stiff. My uncle gives another reason for it,
which I won't tell you.
My bonnet and curls seem to have almost conquered Stephen, who declares he has seen nothing
equal to my "costume," as he calls it, since he left




TIE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        61
Paris. He has actually offered to walk with me in
Broadway, and did us the honour to go with us to the
theatre, one stormy night. To be sure, Madame
danced. You never saw such droll capers, Maria: I
declare I hardly knew which way to look. But all
the ladies applauded; so I suppose I don't know
what is proper, not having seen much of the world.
Stephen was in ecstacies, and bravoed and encored,
till my uncle bade him be quiet, and not make a jackanapes of himself. I was delighted with the theatre.
It is lighted with gas; and the play was one of the
finest shows I ever beheld;- processions -thunder
and lightning, and dancing- fighting- rich dresses
- a great deal of fiddling, and very little poetry, wit,
or sense.  I was a little disappointed at this: but
Stephen says, nothing is considered so vulgar as a
sensible, well-written play. Music and dancing are
all in all - and, as it is much easier to cut capers, and
produce sounds without sense than with it, this is an
excellent taste  for it saves a great deal of useless
labour in writing plays, as well as acting them properly. I sometimes think Stephen's notions are a little
strange; and my heart, as well as my understanding,
revolts at some of his decisions. But he has been
abroad, and ought to know. Sometimes I think I
should like to know Graves' opinion: but he hardly
ever speaks unless spoken to; and ever since I got
such a great bonnet, and such great curls, he scarcely
seems to know me. As for my uncle, he don't make
any secret of his opinions. But then he is out of
fashion; and, as I don't find any body agree with him,
I think he must be wrong.
Next week, we think of setting out for the Springs.




62      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
My uncle has forsworn the steam-boats, ever since our
voyage from Charleston. So we are to go by land
up the right bank of the Hudson, and return on the
other side, unless we should visit Boston, as my uncle
sometimes threatens. Good bye, my dear Maria; I
long to see you:- don't you long to see me, in my
incomprehensible, indescribable hat, and my baked
curls? I must not omit my travelling-chain, which is
a gold cable of awful dimensions, without which no
lady of any pretensions can visit the Springs. Alas!
poor woman! born to be the slave of a hundred taskmasters;- first, of the boarding-school, where she is
put to the torture of the dancing-master and the
school-mistress; next, of fashion, when she is obliged
to appear a fool, rather than be singular; and last and
worst, of her husband, the very Nero of tyrants. Pray,
sometimes stop in, and see how my old nurse, Hannah, gets on. Adieu.
P. S. I wish you could only hear that goodnatured, pragmatical old soul, my kind, generous
uncle, rail at almost every thing he hears and sees.
He calls himself an old fool fifty times a day, and
says that old people are like' old trunks, which will do
very well while they are let alone in a corner, but
never fail to tumble to pieces if you move them. He
pronounced the steam-boat a composition of horrors,
such as modern ingenuity, stimulated by paper-money,
stock-companies, and I know not what, could alone
produce; and congratulates himself continually upon
living in a remote part of the country, where there
are neither banks nor incorporations, and where, as he
says, indulgent nature, by means of high mountains
and other benevolent precautions, has made it actually




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     63
impossible to intrude either a canal or a railroad.
Every time I come to him for money, which indeed is
pretty often, for I have found out a hundred new
wants since I came here, he affects to scold me, and
declares that unless the price of cotton and rice rises,
he shall be a pauper before the end of our journey.
But what annoys him most of all, and indeed appears
strange to me, is to see white men performing the
offices of negroes in the south —waiting at table,
cleaning boots, brushing clothes, driving carriages, and
standing up behind them. He says this is degrading
the race of white men in the scale of nature, and has
had several hot discussions with an old Quaker, with
whom  he somewhere scraped acquaintance.  Our
black man Juba, or gentleman of colour, (for that is
the style here), is grown so vain at being sometimes
waited on by white men, that he is good for nothing
but to parade up and down Broadway. Henney says
he is keeping a journal, and talks of making up to the
old Quaker's daughter; I suppose on the strength of
the good gentleman's arguments about equality. To
conclude, my good uncle calls me a baggage and
Stephen a puppy, twenty times a day.   L. C.
LUCIA CULPEPER TO MARIA MEYNELL.
NEW YORK,
MY DEAR MARIA, - How I wish you were here to
help me enjoy all the fine things I see from morning
till night. You know I have no friends in this place,
and among all our party I can find no confidante but
Henney, who wonders ten times more than I do. My




64       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
uncle, though a most indulgent old soul, you know
has a habit of finding fault with every thing, and of
always exalting the past at the expense of the present,
which to young people, to whom the present time
is every thing, is quite odd. Graves is as grave as his
name, and is all the time taken up with state-prisons,
alms-houses, houses of refuge, and all sorts of institutions for making people wiser and better; or, as my
uncle will have it, idle and profligate. As for Stephen,
he won't let me admire any thing in peace. The moment I begin, he discharges upon me a comparison
with something in Paris, Rome or London, which goes
near to accuse me of a total want of taste. If you
believe him, there is nothing worth seeing here but
what comes from abroad. I am sure he'll never like
me well enough to fulfil my uncle's wishes, and that
is my great comfort. For alas! Maria, I fear he has
no heart; and, judging from what comes out of it, but
little head. I don't want a man to be always crying
or talking sentiment, or forever acting the sage; but a
heartless fool is the bane of womankind. You know
Stephen's father saved my uncle's life at the battle of
the Eutaw Springs, and that my uncle has long made
up his mind to make him my lord and master, and
leave us his whole fortune, with the exception of a
legacy to poor Graves. The older I grow, the more
I dislike this plan. But I would not thwart my dear,
kind, generous uncle - father - if any thing less than
my future happiness is at stake. He calls Stephen,
puppy, jackanapes, and dandy, ten times a day. But
I can see his heart is still set upon the match. So
true is it, that it is almost impossible for old people
to give up a long-cherished and favourite plan. But




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      65
I have made up my mind in the solitude of the mountains to meet what may come - come what will.
My head is now full of finery, and all my senses in
a whirl. I wish you could see me. My hat is so
large that there is no bandbox on the face of the earth
big enough to accommodate it; and yet you will be
surprised to hear that it is fit neither for summer nor
winter, rain nor sunshine. It will not keep off either
one or the other, and so plagues me when I go into
the street, that I hardly know which way to turn myself. Every puff of wind nearly oversets me. There
are forty-two yards of trimmings, and sixty feathers
to it. My dress is a full match for my hat. It took
twenty-three yards of silk, five yards of satin, besides,
"bobbin, ben-bobbin," and ben-bobbinet,  I don't
know what else to call it -beyond all counting.
You must think I have grown very much. I am so
beflounced, that my uncle laughs at me whenever I
come where he is, and declares, that a fine lady costs
more to fit her out nowadays than a ship of the line.
What between hat and flounces, &c., a lady has a
time of it when the wind blows and the dust is flying
in clouds, as it does in Broadway all day long. I encountered a puff at the corner of one of the streets,
and there I stood, holding my hat with one hand, and
my cardinal-cloak (which has fifty-six yards of various
commodities in it) with the other. I thought I should
have gone up like a balloon; and stood stark still until I came near being run over by a great hog, which
was scampering away from some mischievous boys.
At last a sailor took compassion on me, and set me
down at the door of a store.  As he went away,
I heard him  say to his companion: "My eyes,
5




66      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Bill, what a press of canvass the girls carry nowadays!"
O, it's delightful to travel, Maria! We had such a
delightful sail in the steam-boat, though we were all
sick; and such a delightful party, if they only had
been well. Only think of sailing without sails, and
not caring which way the wind blows; and going
eight miles an hour, happen what would. It was
quite charming; but, for all this, I was glad when it
was over, and we came into still water.  Coming
into the Narrows, as they are called, was like entering
a paradise. On one side is Long Island, with its low
shores, studded with pretty houses, and with foliage
of various kinds mixed up with the dark cedars; on
the other, Staten Island, with its high bluff, crowned
by the telegraph and signal poles; and beyond, the
great fort that put me in mind of the old castles
which Stephen talks about. We kept close to the
Long Island shore, along which we glided, before
wind and tide, with the swiftness of wings. Every
moment some new beauty opened to our view. The
little islands of the bay, crowned with castles; the
river, bounded by the lofty ledge of perpendicular
rocks called The Palisades; and, then, the queen of
the West, the beautiful city, with its Battery and hundred spires; coming one after the other, and at last
combined in one beautiful whole- threw me almost
into raptures, and entirely cured my sea-sickness.
Add to this, the ships, vessels, and boats, of all sizes,
from the seventy-four to the little thing darting about
like a feather, with a single person in it; and the
grand opening of the East River, with Brooklyn and
the charming scenery beyond,- and you can form




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     67
some little idea of my surprise and delight. Signior
Maccaroni, as my uncle calls him, looked at it with
perfect nonchalance. The bay was nothing to the
bay of Naples; and the castle, less than nothing, compared with Castel Nuovo. Thank heaven, I had not
been abroad to spoil my relish. Even my uncle enjoyed it, and spoke more kindly to me than during
the whole passage. He was very sick, and called himself an old fool fifty times a day. I believe half the
time he meant " young fool," that is me, for persuading him to the voyage. Graves' eyes sparkled, but
as usual he said nothing. He only gave me a look,
which said as plainly as a thousand words, "how
beautiful!"  But whether he meant me or Dame
Nature is more than I can tell.
The moment we touched the wharf, there was an
irruption of the Goths and Vandals, as my uncle
called the hackney-coachmen, and the porters, who
risked their necks in jumping aboard. " Carriage, sir,"
" Baggage, sir,"'" City Hotel, sir,"   " Mansion
House,"   " Mrs. Mann's," — were reiterated a thousand times; and I thought half a dozen of them would
have fought for our trunks, they disputed and swore
so terribly.  Stephen declared it was worse than
London; and Graves said it put him in mind of the
contest between the Greeks and Trojans for the body
of poor Patroclus. My uncle called them hard names,
and flourished his stick, but it would not do. When
we got to the hotel, I thought we had mistaken some
palace for a public-house. Such mirrors - such curtains - such carpets - such sofas  such chairs! I
was almost afraid to sit down upon them. Even
Stephen evinced his approbation, and repeated over




68       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
and over again: " Upon my soul, clever - quite clever
-very clever indeed, upon my soul."  My uncle says,
all this finery comes out of the cotton-plantations and
rice-swamps; and that the negroes of the south work
like horses, that their masters may spend their money
like asses in the north.
Poor fenney does nothing but stand stock-still with
her mouth and eyes wide open, and is of no more use
to me than a statue. She is in every body's way —
and in her own way too, I believe. I took her with
me the other day to a milliner's, to bring home some
of my finery. She stopped at every window, with
such evident tokens of delight, that she attracted the
attention of the boys, and came very near being
mobbed. Missing her, I was obliged to turn back,
and found her in ecstasies with a picture of Madame
Hutin dancing before a droll figure in a fur cap and
spectacles. Juba is keeping a journal, I believe, for
you know that my uncle, while he abuses the practice
with his tongue, assents to it in his heart, and humours
his slaves more, perhaps, than a professed philanthropist in his situation would do. I should like to see
Juba's lucubrations.
I begin to be weary- so, good night, my dear
Maria. I will write again soon.    Your LuCIA.
P. S. What do you think, Maria? - whisper it not
to the telltale echoes of the high hills of Santee - they
say bishops and pads are coming into fashion. I have
seen several ladies that looked very suspicious.
Besides eating, and the various other resources of
sense for passing the time in New York, there are
sundry intellectual delights of most rare diversity —




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       69
exhibitions of fat oxen, to charm the liberal-minded
amateur - Lord Byron's helmet - and Grecian dogs,
whose wonderful capacity fully attests to the astonished world that the march of mind has extended even
to the brute creation, insomuch that the difference between instinct and reason is now scarcely perceptible
to the nicest observer, and it is the opinion of many
of our learned men, that a dog of the nineteenth century is considerably wiser than a man of the sixteenth.
There are also highly amusing methods of drawing
teeth, and teaching grammar and tachygraphy, as well
as all sorts of sciences and languages, by systems and
machinery, which are pretended to be original, but
which may be found in the famous Captain Lemuel
Gulliver's voyage to Laputa. There are moreover an
infinite number of highly diverting inventions for improving the condition of lazy loons, and teaching them
economy and industry, by enabling them to live without either at the expense of other men. There are
taverns, where amateurs may drink and smoke all the
morning, without offence to man or beast. There is
a famous musician, who can imitate the barking of
dogs on his instrument, so as to deceive a dog himself, and whose " lady " screams exactly like a cat; so
that they make the divinest harmony that ever was
heard. There are the ladies' bonnets and curls, which
are worth travelling a hundred miles to see; and their
- what shall we call them? - bishops or pads, which
are worth a voyage to the moon, to behold in all their
majestic rotundity. There is also —no, there will
be, as we are enabled to state positively on the best
authority - there will be an exhibition, which is better
worth the attention of people of real refined taste, than




70       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
all those just enumerated put together. The gentleman has politely favoured us with a programme of
his evening's exhibition, with permission to publish it,
and to announce to the world of fashion, that he will
be here on or about the first of June.
"You shall either laugh or cry."
THEATRICAL, DESCRIPTIVE, PHILOSOPHICAL, &c.
Mr. Hart, the preacher of natural religion, the playactor, the tin-pedler, the attorney and counsellor-atlaw, a lover of music, and an admirer of the fair sex,
respectfully informs the ladies and gentlemen of New
York, that on or about the first day of June next, at
evening candle-light, he will go through an act of his
own composition, at some place of fashionable resort,
to consist of the following parts, viz.:
First. Music and dancing, and whirling round part
of the time on one leg, and part of the time on two
legs, like a top, fifty times, without showing the least
giddiness.
Second. An address to Hope, in blank verse.
Third.  The difference pointed out between happiness above and happiness below.
Fourth. Music.
Fifth.  Orlando, an imaginary character, to his
sweetheart.
Sixth. Music, dancing, and whirling round fifty
times.
Seventh. An address to the departed spirit of
George Washington.
Eighth.  Music.
Ninth. The lover, solus.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        71
Tenth. Music, dancing, and whirling round fifty
times.
Eleventh. Orlando in despair marries one he does
not love, runs mad, and whirls round fifty times to
music.
Twelfth. Description of his contriving to get a
divorce by means unprecedented in modern times.
Thirteenth. Music, dancing, and whirling round
fifty times.
To conclude with Mr. Hart's acting the natural
fool, talking to tie departed spirits of General Washington and Thomas Paine, and making crooked
mouths and wry faces at the audience.
We are much mistaken in the taste of the town, if
this exhibition of Mr. Hart will not prove one of the
most attractive ever presented to the patronage of
the fashionable world, and go near to ruin all the
theatres. The bill presents a variety of attraction
perfectly irresistible to all refined palates. First, there
is music, and dancing, and playing the teetotum,
for the lovers of the Italian opera and gymnastics;
then, an address to Hope, for the lovers of poetry;
then, a philosophical disquisition, for the lovers of
philosophy; then, music, to put us in a proper frame
to listen to Orlando's love-letter; then, dancing and
whirling, for the amateurs of the grand ballet; then,
an address to a shade, for the devourers of witch and
ghost stories; then, a lover talking to himself, for
inamoratos; then, running mad, for the amusement
of despairing young gentlemen; then, the contrivance
for getting a divorce, which we prophesy will be received with great applause. But the cream of all will




72       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
be the playing of the fool and making wry faces at the
audience, which cannot do otherwise than please our
theatrical amateurs, unless they should happen to have
been surfeited with it already. In short, we think Mr.
Hart's bill of fare fairly distances all play-bills, not
excepting Peter Wilkins, and that Mr. Hart himself
must possess a greater versatility of talent than the
gentlemen and ladies who play six characters at a
time, or even than the prince of buffoons and imitators,
Mr. Mathews himself. We have no doubt the whole
town will flock to see him, and that we shall observe,
soon after his arrival, a great improvement in the taste
of the people, as well as in our theatrical exhibitions,
which may borrow a few hints from him with great
advantage.
There are various branches of domestic industry
cultivated by the young ladies of New York, the principal of which is the spinning of street-yarn, which
they generally practise about four hours a day. Hence
they are technically termed spinsters. But the great
branch of domestic industry among the men is the
trade in politics, in which vast numbers are engaged,
some at stated seasons, others all the year round. Of
the arts and mysteries of this business we profess to
know nothing; but we believe, from the best information, that the whole secret consists in a certain
opportune turning of the coat, which ought always to
have two sides, one the exact contrast to the other in
colour and texture. By the aid of this sort of harlequin jacket, a dexterous trader in politics can, if he
possesses the ordinary instinct of a rat, always keep
a strong house over his head, a tight vessel under
him, and be always in the right, that is to say, upon




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        73
the strongest side, which, according to fundamental
principles, must be ever in the right. Some intolerant
persons take upon themselves to denounce such manoeuvring of the outward garment as unprincipled and
disgraceful; but for our parts we hold that, necessitas
non habet legem   and it is within the sphere of our
knowledge, that no inconsiderable portion of this
abused class of people, if they did not turn their
coats pretty often, would very soon have no coats to
turn.
On the other occupations or mysteries, such as
spending a great deal of money without having any,
and running in debt without possessing any credit,
our limits will not allow us to dilate so copiously as
we could wish. Suffice it to say, that New York is in
this respect by no means behindhand with its neighbours, inasmuch as it is not uncommon to see people
riding in splendid carriages, living in splendid houses,
and owning a whole street, who, when they come to
settle with death and their other creditors, pay the former and that is all. For the benefit of all fashionable
tourists, we would wish to enter upon a full development of this the most valuable secret of the whole art
of living, which may possibly one day stand them in
stead. But it would require volumes of illustrations,
and a minuteness of detail irreconcilable with the
plan of this work. And even then it is doubtful
whether the tourist would be able to put the system in
practice, since many are of opinion that nothing but
a regular apprenticeship in the arts of stock-jobbing,
stock-companies, hypothecation, and blowing bubbles
and bursting them, as practised par excellence in the
beau monde of New York, will qualify a person for




74       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
living upon nothing, unless indeed he have an uncommon natural genius.
Among the many modes of raising the wind in
New York, that of buying lottery-tickets is one of the
most effective.  It is amazing what a number of
prizes every lottery-office-keeper has sold either in
whole or in shares, and, what is yet more extraordinary as well as altogether out of fashion, paid them
too, if you will take his word for it. The whole insides and a large portion of the outsides of many
houses in Broadway are covered with statements of
the vast sums thus liberally dispensed to the public;
and, what is very remarkable, among all those who
have made their fortunes in this pursuit, we never
heard of a single person who was brought to ruin by
it! People need have no scruples of conscience about
trying their luck in this way, since, if it were really
gambling, the legislature of New York state, which is
a great enemy to horse-racing, (save in one consecrated spot),* and all other kinds of gambling, would
certainly never have authorized a series of lotteries, of
which some people may recollect the beginning, but
nobody can predict the end. Nothing can exceed the
philanthropic earnestness with which the dispensers
of fortune's favours, in the lotteries, strive to allure
the ignorant and obtuse, who are not awake to the
certainty of making a fortune after this fashion, into
a habit of depending on the blind goddess, instead of
always stupidly relying upon the labour of their
hands and the sweat of their brows. Nor ought the
unwearied pains of these liberal-hearted persons, to
coax them  into parting with all they have, in the
[* The Union Course, Long Island.]




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        75
moral certainty of getting back a hundred, yea a
thousand, fold, pass without due commendation; for
certain it is, that if any body in New York is poor,
it must be owing to his own obstinate stupidity in
refusing these disinterested invitations. N. B. There
are very severe laws against gambling in New York.
There are many other ways of living and getting
money here, and spending it too, which it is not necessary to enumerate. We have premised sufficient
to enable the enlightened tourist, (who, peradventure,
may have been left destitute in a strange place by
a run at cards, a failure of remittances, or any other
untoward accident), to retrieve his fortune, if he possesses an ordinary degree of intrepidity and enterprise. A complete knowledge of the world is the
first requisite for living in the world, and the first step
to the attainment of this is to know the difference
between catching and being caught, as aptly exemplified in the fable of the fox and the oyster.
Once upon a time- it was long before the foxes
had their speech taken from them lest they should get
the better of man - as Reynard was fishing for oysters with his tail, he had the good-luck to put the end
of it into the jaws of a fine Blue-Pointer that lay gaping with his mouth wide open, by reason of his having drank too much salt-water at dinner. " Ah ha!" 
cried the oyster, shutting his mouth as quickly as
his corpulent belly would permit-" Ah ha!, have I
caught you at last! "  Reynard, tickled to death at
this wise exclamation, forthwith set off full-tilt for his
hole, the oyster holding on with all his might, though
he got most bitterly bethumped against the rocks,
and exclaiming all the while, " Ah ha! my honest




76       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
friend, don't think to escape me - I've got you safe
enough- ah ha!"  All which he uttered without
opening his mouth, as was the manner of speaking in
those days.  Reynard, who had wellnigh killed himself with laughing, at length came safe to his lodging
with the clumsy oyster still fast to his tail.  After
taking a little breath, he addressed it thus: " Why,
thou aquatic snail —thou nondescript among animals, that art neither fish, flesh, nor fowl — hadst
thou but one single particle of brains in all that fat
carcass of thine, I would argue the matter with thee.
As it is, I will soon teach thee the difference between
catching and being caught."  So saying, he broke
the shell of the honest oyster with a stone, and swallowed the contents with great satisfaction.
Having seen everything worth seeing, and eaten of
everything worth eating, in New York, the traveller
may begin to prepare for the ineffable delights of the
Springs.  After the month of April, oysters become
unlawful; and canvas-backs are out of season. There
is then nothing to detain the inquisitive tourist, and
there are many things that render his speedy departure highly expedient.  As Casar was cautioned by
the seer, to beware the Ides of March, so do we, in like
manner, seriously and vehemently caution the tourist
to beware of the first of May, in other countries and
places the season of May-poles, rural dances, and
rustic loves; but, in New York, the period in which a
great portion of the inhabitants seem to be enjoying
a game at puss-in-a-corner.  Woe be to the traveller
who happens to sojourn in a house where this game
is going on, for he will find no rest to the soles of his
feet. His chair and his bed, his carpet and his joint



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.           77
stool, will be taken from under him, and he will be
left alone as it were like a hermit in the desert. People, as well as their establishments, seem to be actually deranged, insomuch that the prize-poet whom we
have quoted before, not long since produced the following impromptu on the first of May:
"Sing, heavenly muse! which is the greatest day,
The first of April, or the first of May;
Or, ye who moot nice points in learned schools,
Tell us which breeds the greatest crop of fools! "
For a more particular account of this festival, which
especially distinguishes the city of New York from all
others in the known world, we refer our readers to the
following letter. There is, however, some reason to
surmise that it prevailed in Herculaneum and Pompeii, and was one of the causes which brought the
vengeance of the gods on those unfortunate cities.
COLONEL CULPEPER TO MAJOR BRANDE.
NEW YORK, May 2, 1827.
MY DEAR MAJOR,-I am sorry to inform you that
yesterday morning at daylight, or a little before, a
large portion of the inhabitants of this city ran mad,
in a most singular, I might say, original, manner; for
I don't remember to have seen this particular form of
insanity described in any work on the subject.  This
infirmity is peculiar to this precise season of the year,
and generally manifests itself, a day or two previous
to the crisis, in a perpetual fidgeting about the house,
rummaging up of every thing, putting every thing out
of place, and making a most ostentatious display of
crockery and tin-ware. In proof of its not having any
affinity to hydrophobia, it is sufficient to observe that




78       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the disease invariably manifests itself in a vehement
disposition to scrubbing floors, washing windows,
and dabbling in water in all possible ways.  The
great and decisive phenomenon, and one which is
always followed by an almost instantaneous remission
of the disorder, is scrambling out of one house as fast
as you can, and getting into another as soon as possible. But, as I consider this as one of the most curious cases that ever came under my observation, I will
give you a particular account of every prominent
symptom  accompanying it, with a request you will
communicate the whole to Dr. Brady, for his decision
on the matter.
It being a fine, bright, mild morning, I got up early,
to take a walk on the Battery, the most glorious
place for a morning or evening stroll to be found in
the world. It is almost worth coming here, to inhale
the exquisite coolness of the saline air, and watch the
ever-moving scenery of little white sails, majestic displays of snowy canvas that look like fleecy clouds
against the hills of Jersey and Staten Island, and all
the life of nature, connected with her beautiful repose
on the bosom of the expansive bay. Coming down
into the entry, I found it cluttered up with a specimen
of almost every thing that goes to the composition of
house-keeping, and three or four stuldy fellows with
hand-barrows, on which they were piling everything
they could lay hold of. I asked what the matter was,
but all I could get out of them was, " First of May,
sir- please to stand out of the way - first of May,
sir."  So I passed on into the street, where I ran the
gauntlet, among looking-glasses, old pictures, baskets
of crockery, and things in general.  The sidewalks




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        79
were infested with processions of this sort, and in the
middle of the streets were innumerable carts loaded
with a general jail-delivery of all the trumpery that
the carelessness of servants had broken, or the economy of the housewives preserved. If I stopped to
contemplate this inexplicable scene, some male monster was sure to bounce against me out of a streetdoor, with a feather-bed, or assault me in the breach
with the corner of a looking-glass, or some projection
still more belligerent; while all the apology I got was,
"First of May - take care, sir- first of May."  At
one time I was beleaguered between two hand-barrows,
coming different ways, and giving each other just
enough room to squeeze me half to death: at another,
I was run foul of by a basket of crockery or cut glass,
with a woman under it, to the imminent risk of demolishing these precious articles so dear to the heart
of the sex, and got not only sour looks but hard words,
while my bones were aching with bumps and bruises.
Finding there was no peace in Israel, I determined
to get home without further delay, and ensconce myself snugly, until this fearful commotion of the household gods and their paraphernalia had died away.
But I forgot that, " returning were as tedious as go
o'er." There was not an old chair, or a looking-glass,
or a picture, or any article cursed with sharp angles,
that did not appear to have an irresistible attraction
towards some part of my body, especially that portion
which oftenest comes in contact with other bodies.
In attempting to steer clear of a hand-barrow, I encountered a looking-glass, which the lady owner was
following with pious care, and shattered it into a
thousand pieces. The lady fainted, and, in my zeal to




80       TIE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
apologize to and assist her, I unfortunately grazed a
glass lustre, which caught in my button-hole, and drew
after it a little French woman, who luckily lighted on
a feather-bed which an Irishman had set down, to rest
himself.  " Mon Dieu!" cried the little woman;
"Jasus!" exclaimed the Irishman; the lady of the
looking-glass wept; the little demoiselle laughed; the
Irishman stole a kiss of her; and the valiant Colonel
Culpeper made a masterly retreat into the entry of
his domicile, where by the same token he ran full
against my landlady, (who, in a paroxysm of the disorder, was sallying forth with both hands full), and
demolished her spectacles irretrievably.
Finding myself thus environed with perils on all
sides, I retreated to my bedchamber, but here I found
the madness raging with equal violence. A servingmaid was pulling up the carpet, and pulling down the
curtains, and making the dust fly in all directions,
with a feverish activity that could only have been produced by a degree of excitement altogether unnatural.
There was no living here, so I retreated to the diningroom, where every thing was out of its place, and the
dust thicker than in the bedroom. Mops were going
in one corner, brooms flourishing in another, sideboards standing in the middle of the room, and diningtables flapping their wings, as if partaking in that
irresistible propensity to motion which seemed to pervade everything animate and inanimate.
" Pray, sir," said I to a grave old gentleman who
sat reading a newspaper, apparently unmoyed amid
the general confusion,- " Pray, sir, can you tell me
what all this confusion means?" " 0, it's only the
first of May," he replied, without taking his eyes off




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      81
the newspaper. Alas! he, too, is mad, thought I.
But I'll try him again.
" The first of May - what of the first of May?"
"'Tis moving-time."
"Moving-time! what is that?"
"The time when every body moves."
"But, why does every body move just at this time?"
"I can't tell, except it be because it is the first of
May. But," added he, looking up at last with a droll
smile, " you seem to be a stranger, and perhaps don't
know that the first of May is the day, the bane of the
year, on which the good people of this town have, one
and all, agreed to play at the game of move-all. They
are now at it, hammer and tongs. To-morrow, things
will be quiet, and we shall be settled in a different
part of the street."
" 0, then the people are not mad," said I.
"By no means: they are only complying with an
old custom."
"'Tis an odd custom."
"It is so, but not more odd than many others in all
parts of the world."
" Will you be so obliging as to tell me its origin,
and the reason for it? "
" Why, as to the reason, half the old customs we
blindly follow are just as difficult to account for, and
apparently as little founded in design as this.  It
would be too much to make people give reasons for
every thing they do. This custom of moving in a
body on May-day is said, however, to have originated
at a very early period in the history of New York,
when there were but two houses in it. The tenants
of these, taking it into their heads to change their
6




82      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
domiciles, and having no others to remove to, agreed to
start fair at one and the same time with bag and baggage, and thus step into each other's shoes. They
did so, and the arrangement was found so convenient
that it has passed into general practice ever since."
" And so the good people take it for granted, that a
custom which necessity forced upon them when there
were but two houses in the city is calculated for a
city with thirty thousand. A capital pedigree for an
old custom."
"'Tis as good as one half the usages of the world
can boast of," replied the philosopher, and resumed
his studies. "But," said I, "how can you possibly
read in all this hubbub?"  "," replied he, " I've
moved every May-day for the last forty years."
Having ascertained the location of the house into
which the family was moving, I made for it with all
convenient speed, hoping to find at least an asylum
for my wearied and bruised body. But I fell out of
the frying-pan into the fire. The spirit of moving
was here more rampant than at my other home, and,
between moving in and moving out, there was no
chance of escaping a jostle or a jog from some moving movable, on its arrival or departure. Despairing
of a resting-place here, I determined to drop in upon
an old friend; and proceeded to his house. But he,
too, was moving. From thence I went to a hotel, in
hopes of a quiet hour in the reading-room; but the
hotel was moving too. I jumped into a hack, bidding
the man drive out of town as fast as possible. "I'm
moving a family, sir, and can't serve you," cried he;
and just then somebody thrust the corner of a looking-glass into my side, and almost broke one of my




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.         83
ribs. At this critical moment, seeing the door of a
church invitingly open, I sought refuge in its peaceful
aisles. But alas! major, every thing was in confusion
here; the floors in a puddle, the pews wet, the prayerbooks piled in heaps, and women splashing the windows furiously with dippers of water. "Zounds!"
said I to one of them, "are you moving too? ", and,
without waiting for an answer, walked into the churchyard, in hopes I should find the tenants quiet there.
Here I -sauntered about, reading the records of mortality, and moralizing on the contrast between the
ever-moving scene without and the undisturbed repose within. There was but a wooden fence to mark
the separation between the region of life and that of
death.  In a few minutes my perturbation subsided,
and the little rubs and vexations I had undergone
during the day faded into insignificance before the
solemn meditations on that everlasting remove to
which we all are destined. I went home, dined at my
old house, slept in my new lodgings, on a wet floor,
and caught a rheumatism in my left shoulder.
Adieu, major.  If you ever visit New York, beware
of the first of May.
From this letter, which we assure our readers is of
the first authority, it will sufficiently appear that the
elegant tourist should so arrange his pleasures, (for
business he ought to have none), as either to arrive at
New York after, or quit it before, the first day of
May. Previous to his departure, it will be proper for
the traveller, if a gentleman, to furnish himself with
the following indispensable conveniences:The New Mirror for Travellers, and Guide to the




84       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Springs.  N. B.  Be careful to ask for the NEW
MIRROR.
Two shirts. N. B. Dickies, or collars, with ruffles,
will answer.
Plenty of cravats, which are the best apologies for
shirts in the world, except ruffles.
Six coats, including a surtout and box-coat. N. B.
If you can't afford to pay for these, the tailor must
suffer —there is no help for him.
Forty pairs of pantaloons, of all sorts. Ditto,
waistcoats.
Twelve pairs of white kid-gloves.
Twelve pairs of boots. N. B. If you wear boots
altogether, stockings are unnecessary, except at balls
— economy is a blessed thing.
Twelve tooth-brushes.
Twelve hair-brushes.
Six clothes-brushes -one for each coat.
A percussion-gun and a pointer-dog. N. B. No
matter whether you are a sportsman or not - it looks
well.
A pair of pistols, to shoot a friend with now and
then.
An umbrella, which you can borrow of a friend and
forget to return.
A portmanteau without any name or initials, so
that if you should happen to take another man's, it
may pass for a mistake. N. B. Never make such mistakes, unless there is some special reason for it.
A pocket-book, well filled with bank-notes. If you
can't raise the wind with the genuine, you may buy
a few  counterfeits, cheap.  Any money is good
enough for travelling, and if one won't take it another




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       85
will. Don't be discouraged at one refusal —try it
again. If you are well-dressed, and have a gun and
a pointer-dog, no one will suspect you. N. B. There
are no police-officers in the steam-boats.
There is one class of travellers deserving a whole
book by themselves, could we afford to write one for
their especial benefit. We mean the gentlemen who,
as the African negro said, " walk big way - write big
book;" tourists by profession, who explore this country for the pleasure of their readers and their own
profit, and travel at the expense of one people's reputation and of another's pockets; who pay for a dinner
by libelling their entertainer, and for their passage in
a steam-boat by retailing the information of the steward or coxswain; to whom the sight of a porpoise at
sea affords matter for profitable speculation; who
make more out of a flying-fish than a market-woman
does out of a sheep's-head; and dispose of a tolerable
storm at the price of a week's board. These are the
travellers for our money, being the only ones on record,
except the pedlers, who unite the profits of business
with the pleasures of travelling —a consummation
which authors have laboured at in vain until the present happy age of improvements, when sentimental
young ladies wear spatterdashes and stout young
gentlemen white kid-gloves, and when an operasinger receives a higher salary than an archbishop
and travels about with letters of introduction from
kings!
Of all countries in the world, Old England, our
kind, gentle, considerate old mamma, sends forth the
largest portion of this species of literary "riders,"




86       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
who sweep up the materials for a book by the roadside. They are held of so much consequence as to
be patronized by the government, which expends large
sums in sending them to the North Pole, only to tell
us, in a " big book,"'how cold it is there; or to Africa,
to distribute glass beads, and repeat over and over the
same things, through a score of huge quartos. With
these we do not concern ourselves; but, inasmuch as
it hath been alleged, however unjustly, that those who
have from time to time honoured this country with
their notice have been guilty of divers sins of ignorance, prejudice, and malignity, we here offer them a
compendium of regulations, by the due observance of
which they may in future avoid these offences, and
construct a "big book" which shall give universal
satisfaction.
Rules -for gentlemen  who ".'walk big way - make
big book."
Never fail to seize every opportunity to lament,.with
tears in your eyes, the deplorable state of religion
among "these republicans.. People will take it for
granted you are avery pious man.
Never lose an opportunity of canting about the sad
state of morals among these republicans. People will
give you credit for being very moral yourself.
Whenever you have occasion to mention the fourth
of July, the birthday of Washington, or any other
great national anniversary, don't forget to adduce it
as proof of the bitter hostility felt by these republicans towards the English,'and to lament these
practices, as tending to keep up the memory of the
Revolution, as well as to foster national antipathies.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      87
Be very particular in noticing stage-drivers, waiters,
tavern-keepers, and persons of the like importance,
who, as it were, represent the character of the people.
Whenever you want any profound information, always
apply to them: — they are the best authority you can
have.
If you happen to fall in company with a public
man in the stage or steam-boat, take the first opportunity of pumping the driver or waiter. These fellows know every thing, and can tell you all the lies
that have ever been uttered against him.
If you dine with a hospitable gentleman, don't fail
to repay him by dishing up himself, his wife, daughters, and dinner, in your book. If the little boys
don't behave respectfully towards you, and sneak into
a corner with their fingers in their mouths, cut them
up handsomely- father, mother, and all. Be sure
you give their names, at full length; be particular in
noting every dish on the table; and don't forget pumping the waiter.
Tell all the old stories which the Yankees repeat of
their Southern and Western neighbours, and which the
latter have retorted upon them. Be sure not to forget the gouging of the judge, the roasting of the
negro, the wooden nutmegs, the indigo coal; and,
above all, the excellent story of the wooden bowls.
Never inquire whether they are true or not; they will
make John Bull twice as happy as he is at present.
Never write a line without having the fear of the
reviewers before your eyes, and remember how poor
Miss Wright got abused for praising these republicans
and sinners.
Never be deterred from telling a story to the dis



88       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
credit of any people, especially republicans, on the
score of its improbability. John Bull, for whom you
write, will swallow any thing, from a pot of beer to a
melo-drama. He is even a believer in his own freedom.
Never be deterred from telling a story on account
of its having been told, over and over again, by every
traveller since the discovery of America by the literati
of Europe. If the reader has seen it before, it is only
meeting an old friend; if he has not, it is making a
new acquaintance. But be sure you don't forget to
say that you saw every thing you describe. To quote
from  another is to give him  all the credit, and is
almost as bad as robbing your own house. There
is nothing makes a lie look so much like truth as frequent repetition. If you know it to be false, don't
let that deter you; for, as you did not invent it yourself, you cannot be blamed.
Abuse all the women in mass, out of compliment
to your own countrywomen.  The days of chivalry
are past, and more honour comes of attacking than
defending ladies in the present age of public improvements. Besides, all the world loves scandal, and a
book filled with the praises of one nation is an insult
to the rest of the world.
If the stage breaks down with you, give the roads
no quarter.
If you get an indifferent breakfast at an inn, cut up
the whole town where the enormity was encountered,
pretty handsomely; if a bad dinner, deprive the whole
nation of its morals; if a sorry supper, take away
the reputation of the landlady, the cook, and the landlady's daughters without ceremony. Item, if they put




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      89
you to sleep in a two-bedded room, although the other
bed be empty, it is sufficient provocation to set them
all down for infidels, thereby proving yourself a zealous Christian.
Never read any book written by natives of the
country you mean to describe. They are always partial; and, besides, a knowledge of the truth fetters the
imagination, and circumscribes invention. It is fatal
to the composition of a romance.
Never suffer the hospitalities and kindness of these
republicans to conciliate you, except just while you
are enjoying them. You may eat their dinners and
receive their attentions; but never forget, that if you
praise the Yankees John Bull will condemn your
book, and that charity begins at home.  The first
duty of a literary traveller is to make a book that will
sell; the rest is between him and his conscience, and
is nobody's business.
Never mind what these republicans say of you or
your book. You never mean to come among them
again; or, if you do, you can come under a different
name. Let them abuse you as much as they please.
" Who reads an American book?"  No Englishman
certainly, except with a view of borrowing its contents
without giving the author credit for them. Besides,
every true-born Englishman knows that the shortest
way of elevating his own country is to depress all
others as much as possible.
Never fail to find fault with everything, and grumble without ceasing. Else people won't know you for
an Englishman.
Never mind your geography, as you are addressing yourself to people who don't know a wild turkey




90       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
from Turkey in Europe. Your book will sell just as
well, if you place New York on the Mississippi, and
New Orleans on the Hudson. You will be kept in
countenance by a certain British secretary of foreign
affairs, who is said to have pronounced the right to
navigate the St. Lawrence inadmissible to the United
States, because it would give them a direct route to
the Pacific.
You need not make any special inquiries into the
state of morals,.because every body knows that republicans have no morality; nor of religion, because every
body knows they tolerate all religions, and of course
can have none; nor of manners, because, as there is
no distinction of ranks recognized in their constitution,
it is clear they must all be blackguards. The person
most completely qualified of any.we ever met with for
a traveller was a worthy Englishman, who, being very
near-sighted, and hard of hearing, was not led astray
by the villany of his five senses; and, curiously enough,
his book contained quite as much truth as those of
his more fortunate contemporaries who were embarrassed by eyes and ears.
If the tourist belongs to the order of the petticoat,
the following articles are of the first necessity in a
visit to the Springs.
Six fashionable hats, in bandboxes. N. B. The
steam-boats are pretty capacious, and from Albany to
the Springs you can hire an extra.
Two lace veils to hide blushes. If you never blush,
there is no harm done.
An indispensable for miscellaneous matters. Beware of pockets and pick-pockets.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.,        91
Two trunks of bardges, gros de Naples, and silks.
Two trunks of miscellaneous finery.
A dressing-case.
One large trunk containing several sets of curls
well-baked, prepared by Monsieur Manuel.
The last Waverley.
Plenty of airs.
Ditto of graces.
Six beaux to amuse you on the journey. N. B. A
poodle will do as well.
A dozen pairs of white satin shoes to ramble about
in through the swamps at Saratoga and Ballston.
Leather smells vilely, and prunello is quite vulgar.
Six dozen pairs of silk hose, the thinnest that can
be had. There is nothing so beautiful as flesh-colour
with open clocks.
A travelling-chain, the largest and heaviest that can
be had, to wear round the neck.  This will furnish
the beaux with a hint for saying clever things about
chains, darts, &c. The poodle can sometimes play
with it.
There is no occasion for a pocket-book, as all
is paid by papa (or his creditors), and young ladies
ought never to know any thing about the value of
money. It sophisticates the purity of their unadulterated sentiments.
These principal requisites being procured, you take
the steam-boat for Albany. If you are in a great
hurry, or not afraid of being drowned in going ashore
at West Point, or blown up by the way, take one of
the fastest boats you can find. But, if you wish to
travel pleasantly, eat your meals in comfort, associate




92       THE NEW MIRROR- FOR TRAVELLERS.
with genteel company, sleep in quiet, and wake up
alive, our advice is to take one of the SAFETY BARGES,
where all these advantages are combined. It grieves
us to the soul to see these sumptuous aquatic palaces,
which constitute the very perfection of all earthly
locomotion, almost deserted by the ill-advised traveller - and for what?  That he may get to Albany a
few hours sooner: as if it were not the distinguishing
characteristic of a well-bred man of pleasure to have
more time on his hands than he knows what to do
with.  Let merchants, and tradesmen, and brokers,
and handicraft people, and all those condemned to
daily labour, to whom time is as money, patronize the
swift boats; and let those who are running away from
justice affect them; but, for the man of leisure, whose
sole business is to kill time pleasantly, enjoy himself
at his ease, and dine free from the infamous proximity
of hungry rogues who devour with their eyes what
they can't reach with their hands, the safety barges
are preferable even to the chariot of the sun. N. B.
We dont mean to discourage people who may cherish a harmless propensity to being blown up. Every
one to his taste.
The following hints will be found serviceable to all
travellers in steam-boats.
In the miscellaneous company usually found in
these machines, the first duty of a man is to take care
of himself —to get the best seat at table, the best
location on deck; and, when these are obtained, to
keep resolute possession in spite of all the significant
looks of the ladies.
If your heart yearns for a particularly comfortable




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       93
seat which is occupied by a lady, all you have to do
is to keep your eye steadily upon it, and, the moment
she gets up, don't wait to see if she is going to return,
but take possession without a moment's delay. If
she comes back again, be sure not to see her.
Keep a sharp lookout for meals. An experienced
traveller can always tell when these are about being
served up, by a mysterious movement on the part of
the ladies, and a mysterious agitation among the gentlemen, who may be seen gradually pressing towards
the cabin doors. Whenever you observe these symptoms, it is time to exert yourself by pushing through
the crowd to the place of execution.  Never mind
the sour looks, but elbow your way with resolution
and perseverance, remembering that a man can eat
but so many meals in his life, and that the loss of one
can never be retrieved.
The most prudent plan, however, is that generally
pursued by your knowing English travellers, which is
as follows: As soon as you have seen your baggage
disposed of, and before the waiters have had time to
shut the cabin-doors, preparatory to laying the tables,
station yourself at one of them, in a proper situation
for action. On the inside if you can, for there you
are not in the way of the servants. Resolutely maintain your position in spite of the looks and hints of
the servants, about " Gentlemen in the way," and
" No chance to set the tables." You can be reading
a book or a newspaper, and not hear them; or, a better way is to pretend to be asleep.
Keep a wary eye for a favourite dish, and, if it
happens to be placed at a distance or on another table,
you can take an opportunity to look hard at an open




94      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
window as if there was too much air for you, shrug
your shoulders, and move opposite the dish aforesaid.
The moment the bell rings, fall to: you need not
wait for the rest of the company to be seated, or
mind the ladies, for there is no time to be lost on
these occasions. For the same reason, you should
keep your eyes moving about, from one end of the
table to the other, in order that if you see any thing
you like you can send for it without losing time. Call
as loudly and as often as possible for the waiter; the
louder you call, the more consequence you will gain
with the company. If he don't mind you, don't hesitate to snatch whatever he has got in his hands, if you
happen to want it.
Be sure to have as many different things on your
plate at one time as it will hold, and to use your own
knife in cutting up all the dishes within your reach,
and particularly in helping yourself to butter, though
there may be knives on purpose. N. B. It is of no
consequence whether your knife is fishy or not.
Don't wait for the dessert to be laid, but the moment
a pudding or a pie is placed within your reach, fall to
and spare not. Get as much pudding and pie, and as
many nuts, apples, raisins, &c., on your plate as you
can, and eat all together.
Pay no attention to the ladies, who have, or ought
to have, friends to take care of them, or they have no
business to be travelling in steam-boats.
The moment you have eaten everything within your
reach, and are satisfied nothing more is forthcoming,
get up and make for the cabin door with a segar in
your hand. No matter if you are sitting at the mid



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        95
die of the inner side of the table, and disturb a dozen
persons, or more. They have no business to be in
your way. If it is supper-time and the candles are
lighted, you had best light your segar at one of them,
and puff a little before you proceed, for fear it should
go out. N. B. If you were to take an opportunity
to find fault with the meals, the attendants, and the
boat, in an audible tone, as Englishmen do, it will
serve to give people an idea you have been used to
better at home.
Never think of pulling off your hat on coming into
the cabin, though it happens to be full of ladies. It
looks anti-republican; and, besides, has the appearance of not having been used to better company.
Never miss an opportunity of standing in the doorway, or on the stairs, or in narrow passages; and
never get out of the way to let anybody pass, particularly a lady.
If there happens to be a scarcity of seats, be sure to
stretch yourself at full length upon a sofa or a cushion,
and, if any lady looks at you as if she thought you
might give her a place, give her another look as much
as to say, " I'll see you hanged, first."
If the weather is cold, get directly before the stove,
turn your back, and open the skirts of your coat behind as wide as possible, that the fire may have fair
play.
If you happen to be better dressed than your neighbour, look at him with an air of superiority; and don't
hear him if he has the impudence to speak to you. If
it is your ill-fortune to. be dressed not so well, employ
a tailor as soon as possible to remedy the inferiority.
Be sure to pay your passage, if you have any money.




96      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
If you have none, go to sleep in some out-of-the-way
corner, and don't wake till the moon rises in the
West.
Don't pay any attention to the notification that,
"no smoking is allowed abaft the wheel;" but strut
about among the ladies, on the quarter-deck and the
upper gallery, with a segar in your mouth on all
occasions. There are so many ignorant people that
smoke on board steam-boats, that it will naturally be
supposed you can't read, and of course don't know of
the prohibition. If you can get to the windward of a
lady or two, so much the better.
Whenever you are on deck by day, be sure to have
this book in your hand, and, instead of boring yourself with the scenery, read the descriptions, which will
be found infinitely superior to any of the clumsy productions of nature.
N. B. These rules apply exclusively to gentlemen,
the ladies being allowed the liberty of doing as they
please, in all respects except six.
They are not permitted to eat beefsteaks and mutton-chops at breakfast, unless they can prove themselves past fifty.
They must not sit at table more than an hour,
unless they wish to be counted hungry, which no lady
ought ever to be.
They must not talk so loud as to drown the noise
of the engine, unless their voices are particularly
sweet.
They must not enact the turtle-dove before all the
company, unless they can't help it.
They must not jump overboard at every little noise
of the machinery.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       97
They must not be always laughing, except they
have very white teeth.
With these exceptions, they may say and do just
what they like, in spite of papa and mamma, for this
is a free country.
PASSAGE UP THE HUDSON.
"This magnificent river,* which, taking it in all its
combinations of magnitude and beauty, is scarcely
equalled in the New, and not even approached in the
Old, World, was discovered by Hendrik Hudson in
the month of September, 1609, by accident, as almost
every other discovery has been made. He was searching for a north-west passage to India when he first
entered the bay of New York, and imagined the possibility that he had here found it, until, on exploring
the river upwards, he came to fresh water, ran aground,
and abandoned his hopes."
Of this man, whose name is thus identified with the
discovery, the growth, and the future prospects of a
mighty state, little is known; and of that little the end
is indescribably melancholy. He made four voyages
in search of this imaginary north-west passage, and the
termination of the last (in 1610) is in the highest
degree affecting, as related in the following extracts
from  the published collections of the New  York
Historical Society. The "Master" is Hudson.
"You  shall vnderstand," says Master Abacuk
Pricket, from whose account this is taken, " that our
Master kept (in his house at London) a young man,
named eenrie Greene, borne in Kent, of Worshipfull
* We quote from the unpublished ana of Alderman Janson.
7




98      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Parents, but by his lend life and conuersation hee had
lost the good will of all his friends, and had spent all
that hee had. This man, our Master would haue to
Sea with  him, because hee could write well: our
Master gaue him meate, and drinke, and lodging, and
by meanes of one Master Venson, with much adoe got
foure pounds of his mother to buy him clothes, wherewith Master Venson would not trust him: but saw it
laid out himselfe. This Henrie Greene was not set
downe in the owners' booke, nor any wages made for
him. Hee came first aboard at Grauesend, and at
Harwich should haue gone into the field, with one
Wilkinson. At Island the Surgeon and hee fell out in
Dutch, and hee beat him a shoare in English, which
set all the company in a rage; so that wee had much
adoe to get the Surgeon aboard. I told the Master
of it, but hee bade mee let it alone, for (said hee) the
Surgeon had a tongue that would wrong the best
friend hee had. But Robert luet (the Master's Mate)
would needs burne his finger in the embers, and told
the Carpenter a long tale (when hee was drunke) that
our Master had brought in Greene to cracke his credit
that should displease him: which words came to the
Master's eares, who when hee vnderstood it, would
haue gone backe to Island, when he was fortie leagues
from thence, to haue sent home his Mate Robert Iuet
in a Fisher-man. But, being otherwise perswaded,
all was well. So Henry Greene stood vpright, and
very inward with the Master, and was a seruiceable
man euery way for manhood: but for Religion, he
would say he was cleane paper whereon he might
write what he would. Now, when our Gunner was
dead, and (as the order is in such cases) if the com



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       99
pany stand in need of any thing that belonged to the
man deceased, then is it brought to the Mayne Mast,
and there sold to them that will giue most for the
same: This Gunner had a gray cloth gowne, which
Greene prayed the Master to friend him so much as to
let him haue it, paying for it as another would giue:
the Master saith hee should, and thereupon hee answered some, that sought to haue it, that Greene
should haue it, and none else, and so it rested.' Now, out of season and time, the Master calleth
the Carpenter to goe in hand with an house on shoare,
which at the beginning our Master would not heare,
when it might haue been done. The Carpenter told
him, that the Snow and Frost were such, as hee
neither could, nor would goe in hand with such worke.
Which when our Master heard, hee ferreted him out
of his Cabbin, to strike him, calling him by many foule
names, and threatening to hang him. The Carpenter
told him that hee knew what belonged to his place
better then himselfe, and that hee was no House Carpenter. So this passed, and the house was (after)
made with much labour, but to no end. The next
day after the Master and the Carpenter fell out, the
Carpenter tooke his Peece and Henry Greene with
him, for it was an order that none should goe out
alone, but one with a Peece, and another with a Pike.
This did moue the Master so much the more against
Henry Greene, that Robert Billet his Mate must haue
the gowne, and had it deliuered vnto him; which
when Henry Greene saw, he challenged the Master's
promise: but the Master did so raile on Greene, with
so many words of disgrace, telling him, that all his
friends would not trust him with twenty shillings, and




100     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
therefore why should he? As for wages he had none,
nor none should haue, if he did not please him well.
Yet the Master had promised him to make his wages
as good as any man's in the ship; and to haue him
one of the Prince's guard when we came home. But
you shall see how the deuil out of this so wrought
with Greene, that he did the Master what mischiefe
hee could in seeking to discredit him, and to thrust
him and many other honest men out of the Ship in
the end."
It appears that, (Greene having come to an understanding with others whom he had corrupted), a plot
was laid, to seize Hudson and those of the crew that
remained faithful to him, put them on board a small
shallop which was used in making excursions for food
or observations, and run away with the ship. Of the
manner in which this was consummated the same
writer gives the following relation:
" Being thus in the Ice on Saturday, the one and
twentieth of Iune at night, Wilson, the Boatswayne,
and Henry Greene came to mee lying (in my Cabbin)
lame, and told mee that they and the rest of their
Associates would shift the Company, and turne the
Master, and all the sicke men into the shallop, and
let them shift for themselues. For, there was not
fourteen daies' victual left for all the Company, at that
poore allowance they were at, and that there they lay,
the Master not caring to goe one way or other: and
that they had not eaten any thing these three dayes,
and therefore were resolute, either to mend or end, and
what they had begun they would goe through with it,
or dye."
Pricket refuses, and expostulates with Wilson and
Greene.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     101
" Henry Greene told me then, that I must take my
fortune in the Shallop. If there bee no remedie, (said
1), the will of GOD bee done."
Pricket tries to persuade them to put off their design
for two days, nay, for twelve hours, that he might persuade Hudson to return home with the ship; but, to
this they would not consent, and proceeded to execute
their plot as follows: —
"In the meane time Henrie Greene and another
went to the Carpenter, and held him with a talke, till
the Master came out of his Cabbin (which hee soone
did): then came lohn Thomas and Bennet before him,
while Wilson bound his armes behind him. He asked
them what they meant?  They told him, he should
know when he was in the Shallop. Now luet, while
this was a doing, came to lohn King into the Hold,
who was prouided for him, for he had got a sword of
his own, and kept him at a bay, and might haue killed
him, but others came to helpe him: and so he came
vp to the Master. The Master called to the Carpenter, and told him that he was bound; but, I heard no
answere he made. Now Arnold Lodlo, and Michael
Bute rayled at them, and told them their knauerie
would shew itselfe. Then was the Shallop haled vp
to the Ship side, and the poore, sicke, and lame men
were called vpon to get them out of their Cabbins
into the Shallop. The Master called to me, who came
out of my Cabbin as well as I could, to the Hatchway
to speake with him: where, on my knees I besought
them, for the loue of God, to remember themselues, and
to doe as they would be done vnto. They bad me
keepe my selfe well, and get me into my Cabbin; not
suffering the Master to speake with me. But when I




102     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
came into my Cabbin againe, hee called to me at the
Home, which gaue light into my Cabbin, and told
mee that iuet would ouerthrow vs all; nay (said I) it
is that villaine Henrie Greene, and I spake it not
softly."...
" Now were all the poore men in the Shallop, whose
names are as followeth; Henrie Hudson, Iohn Hudson,
Arnold Lodlo, Sidrack Faner, Phillip Staffe, Thomas
Woodhouse, or Wydhouse, Adam Moore, Henrie King,
Michael Bute. The Carpenter got of them a Peece,
and Powder, and Shot, and some Pikes, an Iron Pot,
with some meale, and other things. They stood out
of the Ice, the Shallop being fast to the Sterne of the
Shippe, and so, (when they were nigh out, for I cannot say they were cleane out), they cut her head fast
from the Sterne of our Ship, then out with their Topsayles, and towards the East they stood in a cleere
Sea."
The mutineers, being on shore some days after,
were attacked by a party of Indians.
"lohn Thomas and William Wilson had their bowels
cut, and Michael Perce and Henry Greene being mortally wounded, came tumbling into the Boat together.
When Andrew Moter saw this medley, hee came running downe the Rockes, and leaped into the Sea, and
so swamme to the Boat, hanging on the sterne thereof,
till Michael Perce tooke him in, who manfully made
good the head of the Boat against the Sauages, that
pressed sore vpon vs. Now Michael Perce had got an
Hatchet, wherewith I saw him strike one of them,
that he lay sprawling in the Sea.  Henry Greene
crieth Coragia, and layeth about him with his Truncheon: I cryed to them  to cleere the Boat, and




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     103
Andrew Jloter cryed to bee taken in: the Sauages betooke them to their Bowes and Arrowes, which they
sent amongst vs, wherewith Henry Greene was slaine
outright, and Michael Perce receiued many wounds,
and so did the rest. Michael Perce cleereth the Boate,
and puts it from the shoare, and helpeth Andrew
2Moter in: but, in turning of the Boat, I receiued a
cruell wound in my backe with an Arrow. Michael
Perce and Andrew Moter rowed the Boate away,
which when the Sauages saw, they ranne to their
Boats, and I feared they would haue launched them,
to haue followed vs, but they did not, and our ship
was in the middle of the channell, and could not
see vs.
" Now, when they had rowed a good way from the
shoare, Michael Perce fainted, and could row no more:
then was Andrew Mfoter driuen to stand in the Boat
head, and waft to the ship, which (at the first) saw vs
not, and when they did, they could not tel what to
make of vs, but in the end they stood for vs, and so
tooke vs vp. Henry Greene was throwne out of the
Boat into the Sea, and the rest were had aboard, the
Sauage being yet aliue, yet without sense. But they
died all there that day, William Wilson swearing and
cursing in the most fearefull manner: JMichael Perce
liued two dayes after, and then died. Thus you haue
heard the Tragicall end of Henry Greene and his
Mates, whom they called Captaine, these foure being
the only lustie men in all the ship."
After this, Robert Juet took the command, but
" dyed, for meere want," before they arrived at Plymouth, which is the last we hear of them, except that
Pricket was taken up to London to Sir Thomas Smith.




104     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
The unfortunate Hudson and his companions were
never heard of more. Doubtless they perished miserably, by famine, cold, or savage cruelty. But the
mighty river which he first explored, and the great
bay to the north, by bearing his name, preserve his
memory, and will continue to preserve it to the latest
posterity. We thought we could do no less than call
the attention of the traveller, for a few moments, to
the hard fate of one to whom they are originally indebted for much of the pleasures of the tour to the
Springs.
After the traveller has paid tribute to the memory
of Henry Hudson by reading the preceding sketch of
his melancholy end, he may indulge himself in contemplating the beautiful world expanding every moment before him, appearing and vanishing in the
rapidity of his motion, like creations of the imagination. Every object is beautiful, and its beauties are
heightened by the eye having no time to be palled
with contemplating them too long. Nature seems in
jocund motion hurrying by, and as she moves along
displays a thousand varied charms in rapid succession,
each one more enchanting than the last. If the traveller casts his eyes backwards, he beholds the long
perspective of waters gradually converging to a point
at the Narrows, fringed with the low soft scenery of
Jersey and Long Island, and crowned with the little
buoyant islands on its bosom. If he looks before him,
on one side the picturesque shore of Jersey, with its
rich strip of meadows and orchards, now backed by
the wood-crowned hills, and again by perpendicular
walls of solid rock, and on the other, York Island
with its thousand little palaces, sporting its green




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       105
fields and waving woods, by turns allure his attention,
and make him wish, either that the river had but one
side, or that he had more eyes to admire its beauties.
As the vessel wafts him merrily, merrily along, new
beauties crowd upon him so rapidly as almost to confuse the impressions of the view. That noble ledge
of rocks which is worthy to form the barrier of the
noble river, and which extends for sixteen miles, shows
itself in a succession of sublime bluffs, projecting out
one after the other, looking like the fabled works of
the giants.  High on these cliffs, may be seen the
woodman, pitching his billet from the very edge down
a precipice of hundreds of feet, whence it slides or
bounds to the water's edge, and is received on board
its destined vessel. At other points, on some steep
slope, you will see the quarriers, undermining huge
masses of rocks that in the lapse of ages have separated from the cliff above, and setting them rolling
down with thundering crashes to the level beach below. Here and there under the dark impending cliff,
where nature has formed a little green nook or flat,
some enterprising skipper who owns a little periauger,
or some hardy quarryman, has erected his little cot.
There, when the afternoon shadows envelop the rocks,
the woods, and the shore, may be seen little groups
of children sporting in all the glee of youthful idleness- some setting their shaggy dog to swimming
after a chip, others worrying some patient pussy,
others wading along the smooth sands, knee-deep in
the waters, and others, perhaps, stopping to stare at
the moving wonder champing by, then chasing the long
ripple occasioned by its furious motion, as it breaks
along the beach.  Contrasting beautifully with this




106      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
long mural precipice on the west, the eastern bank
exhibits a charming variety of outline, in long, graceful, curving hills, - here sinking into little vales, each
pouring forth a gurgling brook - there rising again
into tree-clad eminences, presenting the image of a succession of mighty waves, suddenly arrested in their
rolling career, and turned into mingled woods and
meadows and fertile fields, rich in all the evidences
of industry, and animated with cattle, sheep, and
whistling ploughmen.
These precipices are said to be of the trap formation, a most important species of rock in geology, as
whoever " understands trap" may set up for a master
of the science. In many places, this trap formation
is found apparently based on a horizontal stratum of
primitive rock.  This has somewhat shaken the trap
theory, and puzzled geologists.  But we leave them
to settle the affair, and pass on to objects of more
importance to the tourist, in a historical point of view
at least.
At Sneden's Landing, opposite Dobb's Ferry, the
range of perpendicular trap rocks, disappears. You
again detect it, opposite Sing Sing, where it exhibits
itself in a most picturesque and beautiful manner at
intervals, in the range of mountains bordering the
west side of the river, between Nyack and Haverstraw.  At Sneden's commences a vast expanse of
salt-meadows, generally so thickly studded with barracks and hay-stacks, as to present at a distance the
appearance of a great city rising out of the famed
Tappan Sea, like Venice from the Adriatic. Travellers, who have seen both, observe a great similarity
— but, on the whole, prefer the hay-stacks.  Here




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        107
begins the Tappan Sea, where the river expands to
a breadth of three miles, and where, in the days of
log-canoes and pine skiffs, full many an adventurous
navigator is said to have encountered dreadful perils
in crossing over from the Slote * to Tarrytown. At
present its dangers are all traditionary.
The western border of this beautiful expanse is
mountainous; but the hills rise in such gradual
ascent that the whole is cultivated to the very top,
and exhibits a charming display of variegated fields.
That the soil was once rich is established by the fact
of this whole district being settled by the Dutch, than
whom  there never was a people better at smelling
out rich vales and fat alluvial shores. Here the race
subsists, unadulterated to the present time.  The
sons are cast in the same mould with the father and
grandfather; the daughters depart not from the examples of their mothers and grandmothers. The former eschew the mysteries of modern tailoring, and
the latter borrow not the fashion of their bonnets from
the French milliners.  They travel not in steamboats, or in any other newfangled inventions; abhor
canals and railroads, and will go five miles out of the
way to avoid a turnpike.  They mind nobody's business but their own, and such is their inveterate attachment to home, that it is credibly reported there
are men now living along the shores of the river, who
not only have never visited the renowned Tarrytown, directly opposite, but who know not even its
name.
They are deplorably deficient in the noble science
[* A creek just South of the present Piermont dock. It was called by
the old Dutch folks, The Tappan Slote.]




108      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
of gastronomy, and such is their utter barbarity of
taste, that they never eat but when they are hungry,
nor after they are satisfied, and the consequence of
this savage indifference to the chief good of life is that
they one and all remain without those infallible patents of high-breeding, gout and dyspepsia. Since
the period of the first settlement of this region, the
only changes that have ever been known to take
place are, first, those brought about by death, who, if
report says true, has sometimes had his match with
some of these tough old copperheads; secondly, in the
aspect of the soil, which from an interminable forest
has become a garden; and, thirdly, in the size of the
loaves of bread, which from five feet long have dwindled down into the ordinary dimensions. For this
unheard-of innovation, the people adduce in their justification the following undoubted tradition, which,
like their hats and their petticoats, has descended
from  generation to generation without changing a
syllable.
"Some time in the autumn of the year 1694, just
when the woods were on the change, Yffrouw, or
Vrouw, Katrinchee Van Noorden was sitting at breakfast with her husband and family, consisting of six
stout boys and as many strapping girls, all dressed in
their best, for it was of a Sunday morning. Vrouw
Katrinchee had a loaf of fresh rye-bread between her
knees, the top of which was about on a line with
her throat, the other end resting upon a napkin on
the floor; and was essaying with the edge of a sharp
knife to cut off the upper crust for the youngest boy,
who was the pet; when unfortunately it recoiled
from the said crust, and, before the good vrouw had




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        109
time to consider the matter, sliced off her head as
clean as a whistle, to the great horror of Mynheer
Van Noorden, who actually stopped eating his breakfast. This awful catastrophe brought the big loaves
into disrepute among the people, but such was their
attachment to good old customs, that it was not
until Domine Koontzie denounced them  as against
the law and the prophets that they could be brought
to give them up. As it is, the posterity of the Van
Noordens to this day keep up the baking of big
loaves, in conformity to the last will and testament of
their ancestor, who decreed that the memory of this
event should be thus preserved in his family." *
On the opposite side of the river, snugly nestling in
a little bay, lies Tarrytown, famous for its vicinity to
the spot where the British spy, Andr6, was intercepted by the three honest lads of Westchester.  If the
curious traveller is inclined to stop and view this spot,
to which a romantic interest will ever be attached,
the following directions will suffice.
" Landing at Tarrytown, t it is about a quarter of
a mile to the post-road, at Smith's tavern.  Following the post-road due North, about half a mile, you
come to a little bridge over a small stream, known by
the name of Clark's Kill, and sometimes almost dry.
Formerly the wood on the left hand, South of the
bridge, approached close to the road, and there was a
bank on the opposite side, which was steep enough
to prevent escape on horseback that way. The road
from the North, as it approaches the bridge, is nar* We quote from the manuscript ana of Alderman Janson, to which we
shall frequently refer in the course of this work.
t Vide ana of Alderman Janson.




110     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
rowed between two banks of six or eight feet high,
and makes an angle just before it reaches it. Here,
close within the copse of wood on the left, as you
approach from the village, the three militia lads, (for
lads they were, being hardly one and twenty), concealed themselves, to wait for a suspicious stranger,
of whom they had notice from a Mrs. Read, at whose
house they had stopped on their way towards Kingsbridge.  A Mr. Talmadge, a Revolutionary officer,
and a member of the House of Representatives, some
years since took occasion to stigmatize these young
men; as Cow Boys, out on a plundering expedition.
The imputation was false; they were in possession
of passes from  General Philip Van Courtlandt, to
proceed beyond the lines, as they were called, and of
course, by the laws of war, were authorized to be
where they were.
" As Major Andr6 approached, according to the
universal tradition among the old people of Westchester, John Paulding darted out upon him  and
seized his horse's bridle.  Andr6 was exceedingly
startled at the suddenness of this rencounter, and, in
in a moment of unguarded surprise, exclaimed-'Where do you belong?'
"'Below,' was the reply, this being the expression
commonly used to designate the lines of the British,
who were then in possession of New York.
"' So do I,' was the rejoinder of Andr6 in the joyful surprise of the moment. It has been surmised
that this hasty admission sealed his fate. But, when
we reflect that he was suspected before, and that
afterwards not even the production of his pass from
General Arnold could prevail upon the young men to




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      111
let him go, it will appear sufficiently probable that
this imprudent avowal was not the original cause of
his being detained and examined. After some discussion and the exhibiting of his pass, he was taken into
the wood, and searched, not without a good deal of
unwillingness on his part. It is said he particularly
resisted the pulling-off of his right boot, which contained the treasonable documents. When these were
discovered, it is also said that Andre unguardedly exclaimed,'I'm lost!'; but, presently recollecting himself, added,'No matter -they dare not hang me.'
"Finding himself discovered, Andre offered his
gold watch and a purse of guineas for his release.
These were rejected.  He then proposed that they
should secrete him, while one of the party carried a
letter, which he would write in their presence, to Sir
Henry Clinton, naming the ransom necessary to his
discharge, and which they might themselves specify,
pledging his honour that it should accompany their
associate on his return. To this they likewise refused
their assent. Andr6 then threatened them with a
severe punishment for daring to disregard a pass from
the commanding general at West Point; and bade
them beware of carrying him to head-quarters, for they
would only be tried by a court-martial and punished
for mutiny. Still the firmness of these young men
sustained them against all these threats and temptations, and they finally delivered him to Colonel Jameson. It is no insignificant evidence of the weight of
the influences thus overcome, that Colonel Jameson,
an officer of the regular army, commanding a point
of great consequence, so far yielded to the production
of this pass as to permit Andre to write to General




112      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Arnold a letter, which enabled that traitor to escape
the ignominious fate he deserved.
"While in custody of the three Westchester volunteers, Andr6 is said gradually to have recovered from
his depression of spirits, so as to sit with them after
supper, and chat about himself and his situation, still
preserving his incognito of John Anderson. In the
course of the evening which he passed in their company, he related the following singular little anecdote.
It seems, the evening before he left London to embark
for America, he was in company with some young
ladies of his familiar acquaintance, when it was proposed, that, as he was going to a distant country on
a peril( as service, he should have his fortune told by
a famous sibyl, at that time fashionable in town, in
order that his friends might know what would become
of him while away. They went accordingly, when
the beldam, after the customary grimace and cant,
on examining his palms, gravely announced,'That
he was going a great distance, and would either
be hanged, or come very near it, before he returned.'
All the company laughed at this awful annunciation,
and joked with him on the way back.' But,' added
Andr6, smiling,'I seem in a fair way of fulfilling
the prophecy.'
" It was not till Andre arrived at head-quarters, and
concealment became no longer possible, that he wrote
the famous letter to General Washington, avowing
his name and rank. He was tried by a court-martial,
found guilty on his own confession, and hanged at
Tappan, where he met his fate with dignity, and excited in the bosoms of the Americans that sympathy
as a criminal, which has since been challenged for him




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     113
as a hero and a martyr. A few years since, the British consul at New York caused his remains to be disinterred and sent to England, where, to perpetuate if
possible the delusion of his having suffered in an honourable enterprise, they were buried in Westminster
Abbey, among heroes, statesmen, and poets.  The
thanks of Congress, with a medal, an annuity, and a
farm, were bestowed on each of the three young volunteers, and, lately, a handsome monument has been
erected by the corporation of New. York, to Jthn
Paulding, at Peekskill, where his body was buried.
The other two, Isaac Van Wart and David Williams,
still survive.
" About half a quarter of a mile south of Clark's
Kill bridge, on tbL high-road, formerly stood the great
tulip, or white-wood, tree, which,, being the most conspicuous object in the immediate vicinity, has been
usually designated as the spot where Andre was taken
and searched. It was one of the most magnificent of
trees, one hundred and eleven: feet and a half high,
the limbs projecting on. either side more than eighty
feet from the trunk,.which was ten paces round. More
than twenty years ago it was struck by lightning, and
its old weather-beaten, stock so shivered that it fell to
the ground, and it was remarked by the old people,
that on the very same day they for the first time read
in the newspapers the death of Arnold. Arnold lived
in England on a pension, which we believe is still
continued to his children. His name was always
coupled, even there, with infamy; insomuch that
when the Duke of Richmond, Lord Shelburne, and
other violent opponents of the American Revolutionary war, were appointed to office, the late Duke
8




114     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
of Lauderdale remarked that,' If the king wished to
employ traitors, he wondered that he should have
overlooked Benedict Arnold.' For this he was called
out by Arnold, and they exchanged shots, but without
effect. Since then we know  nothing of Arnold's
history, till his death. He died as he lived during
the latter years of his life, an object of detestation
to his countrymen, of contempt to the rest of the
world.
" There is a romantic interest attached. to the incidents just recorded, which will always make the capture of Andre a popular story; and the time will
come when it will be chosen as the subject of poetry
and the drama, as it has been of history and tradition.
There is already a play founded upon it, by Mr.
William Dunlap, the writer and translator of many
dramatic works. Mr. Dunlap has however, we think,
committed a mistake, in which nevertheless he is
countenanced by most other writers - that of making
Andre his hero. There is also extant a history of the
whole affair, written by Joshua Hett Smith, the person
who accompanied Andr6 across the river from Haverstraw, and whose memory is still in some measure
implicated in the treason of Arnold. It is written
with much passion and prejudice, and abounds in
toryisms. Neither Washington, Greene, nor any of
the members of the court-martial, escape the most degrading imputations: and the three young men who
captured Andr6 are stigmatized with cowardice, as
well as treachery! The history is the production of
a man who seems to have had but one object, that
of degrading the characters of others, with a view of
bolstering up his own. Washington and Greene re



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     115
quire no guardians to defend their memory, at one
time assailed by women and dotards, on the score of
having, the one, presided at the just condemnation
of a spy, the other, refused his pardon to the threats
and bullyings of the enemy.  The reputations of the
three young captors of Andr6 have also been attacked,
where one would least of all expect it —in the Congress of the United States, where, some years ago, an
honourable member denounced them as Cow Boys;
and declared to the house that Major Andr6 had
assured him he would have been released, could he
have made good his promises of great reward from
Sir Henry Clinton. The characters of these men
were triumphantly vindicated by the publication of
the testimony of nearly all the aged inhabitants of
Westchester, who bore ample testimony to the purity
of their lives and the patriotism of their motives. The
slander is forgotten, and if its author be hereafter
remembered, no one will envy him his reputation."
Tarrytown is still farther distinguished by being
within a mile or two of Sleepy Hollow, the scene of a
pleasant legend of our friend Geoffrey Crayon, with
whom in days long past we have often explored this
pleasant valley, fishing along the brooks, though he
was beyond all question the worst fisherman we ever
knew. He had not the patience of Job's wife - and
without patience no man can be a philosopher or a
fisherman.
SING SING.
Sing Sing is a pleasant village, on the west side of
the river, about six miles above Tarrytown. It is a
very musical place, (as its name imports), for all the




116      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
birds sing charmingly; and is blessed with a pure air,
and delightful prospects. There is a silver mine a
couple of hundred yards from the village, to which we
recommend the adventurers in the South-American
and North-Carolinian mines to turn their attention.
They will certainly lose money by working it, but the
money will be spent at home, and the village will benefit by their patriotism. If they get ruined, there is a
state-prison close by where they will find an asylum.
There is an old lady living in the neighbourhood, who
recollects hearing her father say, that he had once,
before the Revolutionary war, been concerned in this
mine; and there is a sixpence still preserved in the
family, coined from its produce, that only cost him
two hundred pounds.  A new state-prison is being
built here, from marble procured on the spot, in which
the doleful experiment of solitary confinement is to be
tried. It will not do. It will only be substituting
lingering torments for those of sudden death. Without society, without books, without employment, without anticipations, and without the recollection of any
thing but crimes, insanity or death must be the consequence of a protracted seclusion of this sort.  A
few days will be an insufficient lesson, and a few
months would be worse than death-madness or
idiocy. It is a fashionable Sunday excursion with a
certain class of idlers in New York, to visit this prison
in the steam-boat. It is like going to look at their
lodgings before they are finished. Some of them will
get there if they don't mind. After all, we think those
philanthropists are in the right, who are for abolishing
the criminal code entirely, and relying on the improved
spirit of the age and the progress of moral feeling.




THE NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.                 117
Three or four miles east of Sing Sing, is the CHAPPAQUA SPRING, which at one time came very nigh getting the better of Ballston, Saratoga and Harrowgate,
for it is a fact well authenticated, that one or two persons of good fashion came uncommonly near being
cured of that incurable disease called " I dont know
what," by drinking these waters. Upon the strength
of this, some " public-spirited individuals" erected a
great hotel for the public accommodation. We wish
w 3 knew  their names, as we look upon  every man
who builds a tavern as a public benefactor, upon the
authority of the famous prize-poet, heretofore quoted,
who says:"Thrice happy land! to glorious fates a prey,
Where taverns multiply, and cots decay!
And happy they, the happiest of their kind,
Who ease and freedom in a tavern find!
No household cares molest the chosen man
Who, at the tavern, tosses off his can,
Who, far from all the irksome cares of life,
And, most of all, that care of cares, a wife,
Lives free and easy, all the livelong year,
And dies without the tribute of a tear,
Save from some Boniface's bloodshot eye,
Who grieves that such a liberal soul should die,
And on that' Canongate of Chronicles,' the door,
Leave such a long unliquidated score."
POINT NO POINT.
Directly opposite to Sing Sing is Point no Point, a
singular range of highlands of the trap formation,
which is extremely apt to deceive the traveller who
don't "understand  trap", as the geologists  say.  In
sailing along up the river, a point of land appears at
all times, (except in a dense fog or a dark night, when
we advise the reader not to look out for it), projecting




118     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
far into the river. On arriving opposite, it seems to
recede, and to appear again a little beyond. Some
travellers compare this Point no Point to a great
metaphysician, who reasons through a whole quarto,
without coming to a conclusion. Others liken it to
the great Dr., who plays round his subject like
children about a bonfire,, but never ventures too near,
lest he should catch it, and, belike, burn his fingers.
Others again approximate it to the speech of a member of Congress, which always seems coming to the
point, but never arrives at it. The happiest similitude
however, in our opinion, was that of a young lady,
who compared a dangling dandy admirer of hers to
Point no Point, "Because," said she, "he is always
pointing to his game, but never makes a dead-point."
If the traveller should happen to go ashore here, by
following the road from Slaughter's Landing up the
mountain, about half a mile, he will come suddenly
upon a beautiful sheet of pure water nine miles in circumference, called Snedecker's Lake, a name abhorred
of Poetry and the Nine. The southern extremity is
bounded by a steep pine-clad mountain, which dashes
headlong down almost perpendicularly into the bosom
of the lake, while all the other portions of its graceful circle are rich in cultivated rural beauties. The
Brothers of the Angle may here find pleasant sport,
and peradventure catch a pike, the noblest of all fishes,
because he has the noblest appetite.  Alas!, how is
the pride of human reason mortified at the thought
that a pike, not one tenth the bulk of a common-sized
man, can eat as much as half a score of the most
illustrious gourmands! — and that too without dyspepsia, or apoplexy. Let not man boast any longer




THE NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.                 119
of his being the lord of the creation.  Would we were
a pike, and lord of Snedecker's Lake, for, as the great
prize-poet sings in a fit of hungry inspiration: —
"I sing the Pike! not him of lesser fame,
Who gained at Little York a deathless name,
And died a martyr to his country's weal,
Instead of dying of a glorious meal -
But thee, 0 Pike!, lord of the finny crew,
King of the waters, and of eating, too.
Imperial glutton, that for tribute seizest
As many glittering small fry as thou pleasest,
No surfeits on thy ample feeding wait,
No apoplexy shortens thy long date;
The patriarch of eating, thou dost shine;
A century of gluttony is thine.
Sure the old tale of transmigration's true:
The soul of Heliogabalus dwells in you! "
STONY POINT.
This is a rough, picturesque point, pushing boldly
out into the river, directly opposite to Verplanek's
Point on the east side.  The remains of a redoubt are
still to be seen on its brow, and it was the scene of one
of the boldest exploits of one of the boldest spirits of
a revolution fruitful in both.  The fort was carried at
midnight at the point of the bayonet, by a party of
Americans under General Anthony Wayne, the fireeater of his day. In order to judge of this feat, it is
necessary to examine the place and see the extreme
difficulty  of  approach.   The  last  achievement  of
" Mad Anthony  -  (so he was christened by his admiring soldiers who would follow him any where) -was
the decisive defeat of the Indians at the battle of
Miami, in 1794, which gave rest to a long-harassed
and extensive frontier, and led to the treaty of Greenville, by which the United States acquired an immense




120      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
accession of territory. He died at Presque Isle on
Lake Erie, in the fifty-second year of his age. It is
believed that Pennsylvania yet owes him  a monument.
There is a light-house erected here, on the summit
of the point. We have heard people laugh at it as
entirely useless, but doubtless they did not know what
they were talking about. Light-houses are of two
kinds, the useful and the ornamental. The first are
to guide mariners, the others to accommodate the
lovers of the picturesque. The light-house at Stony
Point is of the latter description. It is a fine object
either in approaching or leaving the Highlands, and
foul befall the carping Smelfungus who does not
thank the public-spirited gentleman, (whoever he was),
to whom we of a picturesque turn are indebted for
the contemplation of this beautiful superfluity. Half
the human race, (we mean no disparagement to the
lasses we adore), and indeed half the world, is only
made to look at. Why not, then, a light-house? The
objections are untenable, for if a light-house be of no
other use, it at least affords a snug place for some lazy
philosopher to loll out the rest of his life on the featherbed of a cosy sinecure.
We now approach the Highlands, and advise the
reader to shut himself up in the cabin and peruse the
following pages attentively, as it is our intention to
give a sketch of this fine scenery, so infinitely superior
to the reality, that Nature will not be able to recognise
herself in our picture.
Genius of the picturesque sublime, or the sublime
picturesque, inspire us! Thou that didst animate the
soul of John Bull, insomuch that, if report says true,




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       121
he did once get up from dinner, before it was half discussed, to admire the sublime projection of Anthony's
Nose - thou that erewhile didst allure a first-rate belle
and beauty from adjusting her curls at the lookingglass, to gaze for more than half a minute at beauties
almost equal to her own- thou that dost sometimes
actually inspirit that last best work of the ninth part
of a man, the dandy, actually to yawn with delight at
the Crow's Nest, and pull up his breeches at sight of
Fort Putnam- thou genius of travellers, and tutelary
goddess of book-making - grant us a pen of fire, ink
of lightning, and words of thunder, to do justice to
the mighty theme!
First comes the gigantic  Donderbarrack —(all
mountains are called gigantic, because the ancient
race of giants was turned into mountains, which
accounts for the race being extinct)- first comes the
mighty Donderbarrack, president of hills - (we allow
of no king-mountains in our book) -whose head is
hid in the clouds, whenever the clouds come down
low enough; at whose foot dwells in all the feudal
majesty (only a great deal better) of a Rhoderick Dhu,
the famous highland chieftain, Caldwell, lord of Donderbarrack, and of all the little hills that grow out of
his ample sides like warts on a giant's nose. To this
mighty chieftain all the steam-boats do homage, by
ringing their bells, slowing their machinery, and sending their boats ashore to carry him the customary
tribute, to wit, store of visitors, whom it is his delight
to entertain at his hospitable castle. This stately
pile is of great antiquity, its history being lost in the
dark ages of the last century, when the Indian prowled
about these hills, and shot his deer, ere the advance of




122      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the white man swept him away forever. Above -as
the prize-poet sings"High on the cliffs the towering eagles soar -
But hush, my muse -for poetry's a bore."
Turning the base of Donderbarrack, the nose of all
noses, Anthony's Nose, gradually displays itself to the
enraptured eye, which must be kept steadily fixed on
these our glowing pages.  Such a nose is not seen
every day. Not the famous hero of Slawkenbergius,
whose proboscis emulated the steeple of Strasburg,
ever had such a nose to his face. Taliacotius himself never made such a nose in his life. It is worth
while to go ten miles to hear it blow -you would
mistake it for a trumpet.  The most curious thing
about it is, that it looks no more like a nose than my
foot. But, now we think of it, there is something
still more curious connected with this nose. There is
not a soul born within five miles of it, but has a nose
of most jolly dimensions- not quite as large as the
mountain, but pretty well. It is the custom for the
passengers in steam-boats to salute it in passing with
a universal blow of the nose: after which, they shake
their kerchiefs at it, and put them carefully in their
pockets. No young lady ever climbs to the top of
this stately nose, without affixing her white cambric
handkerchief to a stick, placing it upright in the
ground, and leaving it waving there, in hopes that all
her posterity may be blessed with goodly noses.
Immediately on passing the Nose the Sugar Loaf
appears: keep your eye on the book for your lifeyou will be changed to a loaf of sugar if you don't.
This has happened to several of the disciples of Lot's




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      123
wife, who thereby became even sweeter than they
were before. Remember poor Eurydice, whose fate
was sung in burlesque by an infamous outcast bachelor, who, it is said, was afterwards punished, by
marrying a shrew who made him mix the mustard
every day for dinner.
WEST POINT.
"If the traveller," observes Alderman Janson, "intends stopping here, to visit the Military Academy
and its admirable superintendent, I advise him to
make his will before he ventures into the landingboat. That more people have not been drowned in
this adventurous experiment can only be accounted
for on the supposition that miracles are growing to
be but every-day matters. There is, I believe, a law
regulating the mode of landing passengers from
steam-boats, but it is a singular fact that laws will
not execute themselves, notwithstanding all the wisdom of the legislature. Not that I mean to find fault
with the precipitation with which people and luggage
are tumbled together into the boat, and foisted ashore
at the rate of fifteen miles an hour. At least five
minutes in the passage to Albany is saved by this
means, and so much added to the delights of the
tourist, who is thereby enabled to spend five minutes
more at the Springs. Who would not risk a little
drowning, and a little scalding, for such an object?
Certainly the most precious of all commodities, (especially to people who don't know what to do with it),
is time; except, indeed, it may be, money to a miser
who never spends any. It goes to my heart to find




124      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
fault with any thing in this best of all possible worlds,
where the march of mind is swifter than a race-horse
or a steam-boat, and goes hand-in-hand with the progress of public improvement, like Darby and Joan, or
Jack and Gill, blessing this fortunate generation, and
preparing the way for a world of steam-engines, spinning-jennies, and machinery: insomuch that there
would be no use at all for such an animal as man in
this world any more, if steam-engines and spinningjennies would only make themselves. But the reader
will I trust excuse me this once, for venturing to
hint with a modesty that belongs to my nature, that
all this hurry-this racing-this tumbling of men,
women, children, and baggage, into a boat, helterskelter - this sending them ashore at the risk of their
lives —might possibly be excusable if it were done
for the public accommodation. But such is not the
fact. It is nothing but the struggle of interested competition, the effort to run down a rival boat, and get
all, instead of sharing with others. The public accommodation requires that boats should go at different times of the day, yet they prefer starting at the
same hour, nay, at the same moment - eager to
sweep off the passengers along the river, and risking
the lives of people at West Point, that they may take
up the passengers at Newburgh. The truth is, in
point of ease and comfort, convenience and safety,
the public is not now half so well off as during the
existence of what the said public was persuaded to
call a great grievance-the exclusive right of Mr.
Fulton.
" There is a most comfortable hotel at West Point,
kept by Mr. Cozzens, a most obliging and good



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     125
humoured man, to whom we commend all our readers, with an assurance that they need not fear being
cozened by him. Nothing can be more interesting
than the situation of West Point, the grand object to
which it is devoted, and the magnificent views it
affords in all directions. If there be any inspiration
in the sublime works of nature, or if the mind, as
some believe, receives an impulse or direction from
local situation, there is not, perhaps, in the world, a
spot more favourable to the production of heroes and
men of science. Secluded from the effeminate, or
vicious, allurements of cities, both mind and body preserve a vigorous freshness which is eminently favourable to the development of each without enfeebling
either. Manly studies and manly exercise go hand-inhand, and manly sentiments are the natural consequence. The bodies of the cadets are invigorated by
military exercise and habits, while their intellects are
strengthened, expanded, and purified, by the acquirement of those high branches of science, those graces
of literature, and those elegant accomplishments,
which when combined constitute the complete man.
No one whose mind is susceptible of noble emotions
can see these fine young fellows going through their
exercises on the plain of West Point, to the sound of
the bugle repeated by a dozen echoes of the mountains, while all the magnificence of nature concurs in
adding beauty and dignity to the scene and the occasion, without feeling his bosom swell and glow with
patriotic pride.
" If these young men require an example to warn
or to stimulate, they will find it in the universal execration heaped upon the name and the memory of




126      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.Benedict Arnold, contrasted with the reverential affection, that will forever descend to the latest posterity as
an heirloom, with which every American pronounces
the name of Washington. It was at West Point that
Arnold betrayed his country, and it was on the hills
opposite West Point that Washington wintered with
his army, during the most gloomy period of our Revolution, rendered still more gloomy by the treason of
Arnold, so happily frustrated by the virtue of the
American yeomanry. The remains of the huts are
still to be seen on Redoubt Hill and its vicinity, and
there is a fine spring on the banks of a brook near by,
to this day called Washington's, from being the spring
whence the water was procured for his drinking. It
issues from the side of a bank closely embowered with
trees, and is excessively cold. The old people in the
vicinity, who generally live to about a hundred, still
cherish the tradition of its uses, and direct the attention of inquirers to it, with a feeling than which
nothing can more affectingly indicate the depth of the
devotion to her good father implanted in the heart of
America. Close to the spring are two of the prettiest
little cascades to be found any where. Indeed, the
whole neighbourhood abounds in beautiful views and
romantic associations, and it is worth while to cross
over in a boat from West Point to spend a morning
here in rambling."
On the opposite side of the river from West Point,
and about two miles distant, lies COLD SPRING, a
pleasant, thriving little village. Perhaps the pleasantest ride in the whole country is from here to Fishkill
Landing. A road has been made along the foot of the
mountains. On one hand it is washed by the river




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        127
-on the other overhung by Bull and Breakneck
Hills, the base of which latter has been blown up in
places to afford room for it to pass. The prospects
all along are charming, and, on turning the beak of
Breakneck Hill, there opens to the north and northwest a view, which when seen will not soon be forgotten.
Nearly opposite Cold Spring, at the foot of two
mountains and inaccessible except from the river, lies
the CITY OF FAITH -a city by brevet; founded by an
enterprising person, with the intention of cutting out
Washington, and making it the capital of the United
States -and indeed of the New World.*  He has
satisfied himself that the spot thus aptly selected is
the point of navigation the nearest possible to the
great Northern Pacific, and contemplates a railroad,
from thence to the mouth of Columbia River.  This
must necessarily concentrate travel at this fortunate
spot.  After which his intention is to dig down the
Crow's Nest and Butter Hill, or decompose the rocks
with vinegar, in order that travellers may get at his
emporium, by land, without breaking their necks.
He has already six inhabitants to begin with, and
wants nothing to the completion of this great project,
but a bank -a subscription of half a dozen millions
from the government -a loan of "the credit of the
state," for about as much - and a little more faith in
the people. We think the prospect quite cheering,
and would rejoice in the prospective glories of the
City of Faith, were it not for the apprehension that it
will prove fatal to the Ohio and Chesapeake Canal,
[* There was such a scheme. The projector might have been a visionary;
but he got up a fine map, and sold as many lots as he could.]




128      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
and swallow up the Mamakating and Lacawaxan.
This business of founding cities is in America considered a mere trifle. They make a great noise about
Ronmulus the founder of Rome, and Peter the founder
of St. Petersburg! We knew a man who had founded
twelve great cities, some of which, like Rome, are
already in ruins; and yet he never valued himself on
that account.
As you emerge from the Highlands, a noble vista is
gradually disclosed to the view. The little towns of
NEW  CORNWALL, NEW WINDSOR, and NEWBURGH, are
seen in succession along the west bank of the river,
which here, as if rejoicing at its freedom from the
mountain barrier, expands itself into a wide bay, with
Fishkill and Matteawan on the east, and the three
little towns on the opposite side, the picturesque shores
of which rise gradually into highlands, bounded in the
distance to the north-west by the blue summits of
the Kaatskill Mountains. Into this bay, on the east,
enters Fishkill Creek, a fine stream which waters
some of the richest and most beautiful valleys of
Dutchess County.  Approaching the Hudson, it exhibits several picturesque little cascades, which have
lately been spoiled by dams and manufactories, those
atrocious enemies to all picturesque beauty, as the
prize-poet exclaims in a fine burst of enthusiasm —
poetical enthusiasm, consisting in swearing roundly.
"Mill-dams be damned, and all his race accurs'd,
Who damned a stream by damming it the first!"
On the west, and nearly opposite, enters Murderer's
Creek, which, after winding its way through the delightful vale of Canterbury, as yet unvisited and
undescribed by tourist or traveller, tumbles over a




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      129
villanous mill-dam into the river. If the traveller has
a mind for a beautiful ride in returning from the
Springs, let him land at Newburgh, and follow the
turnpike-road through the village of Canterbury, on
to the Clove, a pass of the great range of mountains,
through with the Ramapo plunges its way among the
rocks. The ride through this pass is highly interesting, and the point where the Ramapo emerges from
the southern side of the mountains is well worthy of
attention. Here joining the Mauwy, it courses its
way through a narrow vale of exquisite beauty, till it
is lost on the Pompton Plains in the river of that
name. The roads are as good as usual, but the accommodations are not the best in the world, and those
who love good eating and good beds better than
nature's beauties, (among whom we profess ourselves),
may go some other way. Those who choose this
route by way of variety, must by no means forget the
house of Mynheer Roome, at Pompton village famed
in song, where they will meet with mortal store of
good things, including sweetmeats of divers sorts and
cakes innumerable and unutterable, and hear the
Dutch language spoken in all its original purity, with
the true Florentine accent.
But let the traveller beware of talking to him about
turnpikes, railways, or canals, all which he abhorreth.
In particular, avoid the subject of the MoRRIs CANAL,
at the very name of which Mynheer's pipe will be
seen to pour forth increasing volumes of angry smoke,
and, like another Vesuvius, he will disgorge whole
torrents of red-hot Dutch lava. In truth Mynheer
Roome has an utter contempt for modern improvements, and we don't know but he is half-right. " Dey
9




130      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
always cost more dan dey come to," he says; and
those who contemplate the sober primitive independence of the good Mynheer, and see his fat cattle, his
fat negroes, and his fat self, encompassed by rich meadows and smiling fields, all unaided by the magic of
modern improvements, will be apt to think with him,
" dat one half dese tings dey call improvements " add
little, if anything, to human happiness, or domestic
independence.
Within a couple of hundred yards of Mynheer
Roome's door, the Pompton, Ramapo, and Ringwood,
three little rivers in whose very bottoms you can see
your face, unite their waters, gathered from the hills
to the North and West, and, assuming the name of
the first, wind through the extensive plain in many
playful meanders almost out of character for Dutch
rivers, till they finally disappear, through a break in
the hills, towards the South.  From  Pompton there
is a good road to Hoboken, by diverging a little from
which the traveller may visit the falls of Passaic,
which were once the pride of nature, who has lately
resigned them  to her rival, art, and almost disowns
them  now. But it is high time to return to Murderer's Creek, and Canterbury Vale, which hath been
sung, (by the prize-poet so often quoted), in the following strains, which partake of the true mystical
metaphysical sublime.
"As I was going to Canterbury,
I met twelve hay-cocks in a fury,
And, as I gaz'd, a hieroglyphic bat
Skimm'd o'er the zenith in a slip-shod hat."
From  which the intelligent traveller will derive as
clear an idea of the singular charms of this vale as
from most descriptions in prose or verse.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      131
The name of Murderer's Creek is said to be derived from the following incidents.
Little more than a century ago, the beautiful region watered by this stream was possessed by a small
tribe of Indians, long since become extinct or incorporated with some other savage nation of the west.
Three or four hundred yards from where the stream
discharges itself into the Hudson, a white family, of
the name of Stacey, had established itself in a loghouse, by tacit permission of the tribe, to whom Stacey
had made himself useful by his skill in a variety of
little arts held in high estimation by the savages. In
particular, a friendship subsisted between him and
an old Indian called Naoman, who often came to his
house and partook of his hospitality. The Indians
never forgive injuries, nor forget benefits. The family consisted of Stacey, his wife, and two children, a
boy and girl, the former five, the latter three years old.
One day, while Stacey was absent, Naoman came
to his log-hut, lighted his pipe, and sat down. He
looked very serious, sometimes sighed deeply, but
said not a word. Stacey's wife asked him what was
the matter, and if he was sick. He shook his head,
sighed, but said nothing, and soon went away. The
next day he came again, and behaved in the same
manner.  Stacey's wife began to think strange of
this, and related it to her husband, who advised her
to urge the old man to an explanation, the next time
he came. Accordingly, when he repeated his visit the
day after, she was more importunate than usual.
At last the old Indian said, "I am a red man,
and the pale-faces are our enemies —why should I
speak? "




132     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
"But my husband and I are your friends; you
have eaten salt with us a thousand times, and my
children have sat on your knee as often. If you have
any thing on your mind, tell it me."
"It will cost me my life if it is known, and the
white-faced women are not good at keeping secrets,"
replied Naoman.
"Try me, and see."
"Will you swear by your Great Spirit, you will tell
none but your husband?"
" I have none else to tell."
" But will you swear?"
I do swear by our Great Spirit, I will tell none
but my husband."
"Not if my tribe should kill you for not telling? "
"Not if your tribe should kill me for not telling."
Naoman then proceeded to inform her that, owing
to some encroachments of the white people below the
mountains, his tribe had become irritated, and were
resolved that night to massacre all the white settlers
within their reach; and bade her find her husband at
once, notify him of the danger, and, as secretly and
speedily as possible, take their canoe, and paddle over
the river to Fishkill for safety. "Be quick, and do
nothing that may excite suspicion," said Naoman as
he departed. The good wife sought her husband,
who was on the river, fishing, and told him the story.
As no time was to be lost, they proceeded to their
boat, which was, unluckily, filled with water.. It took
some time to clear it out, and meanwhile Stacey
recollected his gun, which had been left behind. He
hurried back to the house, and returned with it. All
this took up considerable time, and costly time it
proved to this poor family.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     133
The daily visits of old Naoman, and his more than
ordinary gravity, had excited suspicion in some of the
tribe, who had accordingly paid particular attention
to the moveinents of Stacey. One of the young
Indians who had been kept on the watch, seeing
the whole family about taking to their boat, ran to
the little Indian village, about a mile off, and gave the
alarm. Five Indians ran down to the riverside where
their canoes were moored, jumped in, and paddled
after Stacey, who by this time had got-some distance
out into the bay. They gained on him so fast, that
twice he dropped his paddle and took up his gun.
But his wife prevented his shooting, by telling him
that, if he fired and they were afterwards overtaken,
they would meet no mercy from the Indians. He
accordingly refrained, and plied his paddle, till the
sweat rolled in big drops down his forehead. All
would not do; they were overtaken within a hundred
yards of the shore, and carried back with yells of triumph.
When they got ashore, the Indians set fire to Stacey's house, and dragged himself, his wife, and his
children, to their village. Here the principal old men,
(Naoman being one of them), assembled to deliberate
on the affair. The chief among them  stated that
some one of the tribe had undoubtedly been guilty of
treason, in apprising Stacey, the white man, of the
designs of the tribe, whereby he took the alarm, and
had wellnigh escaped. He proposed to examine the
prisoners, as to who gave the information. The old
men assented to this; and Naoman among the rest.
Stacey was first interrogated by one of the old men,
who spoke English, and interpreted to the others.




134     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Stacey refused to betray his informant. His wife
was then questioned, while two Indians stood threatening the two children with tomahawks. She attempted to evade the truth, by declaring that she had
a dream the night before, which had alarmed her, and
that she had persuaded her husband to fly.  "The
Great Spirit never deigns to talk in dreams to a
white-face," said the old Indian: " Woman, thou hast
two tongues and two faces. Speak the truth, or thy
children shall surely die." The little boy and girl
were then brought close to her, and the two savages
stood over them, ready to execute their bloody orders.
"Wilt thou name," said the old Indian, "the red
man who betrayed his tribe? I will ask thee, three
times." The mother answered not.  "Wilt thou name
the traitor? This is the second time."  The poor
mother looked at her husband, and then at her children, and stole a glance at Naoman, who sat smoking
his pipe with invincible gravity. She wrung her
hands and wIept; but remained silent.  " Wilt thou
name the traitor?'Tis the third, and last, time."
The agony of the mother waxed more bitter; again
she sought the eye of Naoman, but it was cold and
motionless: a pause of a moment awaited her reply,
and the next moment the tomahawks were raised
over the heads of the children, who besought their
mother not to let them be murdered.
" Stop," cried Naoman. All eyes were turned upon
him. "Stop," repeated he, in a tone of authority.
"White woman, thou hast kept thy word with me to
the last moment. I am the traitor. I have eaten of
the salt, warmed myself at the fire, shared the kind



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      135
ness, of these Christian white people, and it was I
that told them of their danger. I am  a withered,
leafless, branchless trunk: cut me down if you will.
I am ready."  A yell of indignation sounded on all
sides. Naoman descended from the little bank where
he sat, shrouded his face with his mantle of skins, and
submitted to his fate. He fell dead at the feet of the
white woman, by a blow of the tomahawk.
But the sacrifice of Naoman, and the firmness of
the brave Christian mother, did not suffice to save the
lives of the other victims. They perished -how, it is
needless to say; and the memory of their fate has
been preserved in the name of the pleasant stream on
whose banks they lived and died, which to this day is
called Murderer's Creek.
NEW CORNWALL, AND NEW WINDSOR.
It is bad policy to call places, new. The title will
do very well for a start, but, when they begin to assume an air of antiquity, it becomes quite unsuitable.
It is too much the case with those who stand godfathers to towns in our country. They seem to think,
because we live in a new world, every thing must be
christened accordingly.  The most flagrant instance
of this enormity is New York, which, although ten
times as large, and ten times as handsome as York in
England, is destined by this infamous cognomen of,
"<new," to play second to that old worn-out town,
which has nothing in it worth seeing except its great
minster. The least people can do, after condemning
a town to be called new, is to paint their houses every
now and then, that the place may do honour to its




136      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
title. But, between ourselves, Monsieur Traveller,
the whole thing is absurd. Some score of centuries
hence, we shall have a dozen clutter-headed antiquaries disputing whether New York and old York were
not one and the same city; and it is just as likely as
not, that the latter will run away with all the glories of
the queen of the new world. Why not call our cities
by a name absolutely fresh to human ears, - Conecocheague, Amoonoosuck, Chabaquidick, or Kathtippakamuck? There would then be no danger of their
being confounded with those of the old world, and
they would stand by themselves in sesquipedalian
dignity, till the end of time, or till people had not
breath to utter their names.
"NEW  CORNWALL," as Alderman Janson truly observes, " is assuredly not one of the largest towns on
the river; but it might be so, and it is not its fault
that it is not six times as large as Pekin, London,
Paris, or Constantinople, as it can be clearly proved
that it might have extended half a dozen leagues towards any of the four quarters of the earth, without
stumbling over any thing of consequence except a
river and a mountain. If its illustrious founders,
(whose names are unknown), instead of confining
their energies to building a few wooden houses which
they forgot to paint even with Spanish-brown, had
cut a canal to the Pacific Ocean, made a railroad
to Passamaquoddy and a tunnel under the Atlantic,
and erected three hundred thousand handsome brick
houses with folding doors and marble mantel-pieces,
without doubt it might have been at this moment the
greatest city in the known world. I am aware that
a certain ignoramus of a critic denies all this, inas



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      137
much as the river is in the way towards the East and
therefore it cannot extend in that direction. But I
suppose this blockhead never heard of turning the
course of the Hudson into the channel of Fishkill
Creek, and so at the same time improving the navigation of both, and affording ample space for the growth
of the city by digging down Fishkill Mountains.
Nay, we dare affirm he is totally ignorant of the mode
of sucking a river, or even a sea, dry, by means of
sponges, whereby it may be easily passed over dry-shod,
a method still pursued by the people of Terra Incognita, and those that carry their heads below their
necks, mentioned by Herodotus. We therefore affirm
that the only reason why this is not the greatest city
in the universe is because the founders did not do as I
have just said. If the aforesaid blockhead of a critic
denies this, may he never be the founder of a great
city, or even a great book. He ought to know, blockhead as he is, that, in this age of improvement, every
thing is possible; and that the foundations of a great
city may be laid any where, in despite of that old superannuated baggage,' Nature,' whom nobody minds
nowadays. Only give me a bank, and the liberty of
issuing as much paper as I please, without the disagreeable necessity of redeeming it; or, only let the
state of New York' loan me its credit' for a million
or so, and I will engage to turn Nature topsy-turvy, or
commit any other enormity in the way of conferring
benefits on the community.  If Archimedes had
known any thing about banks, he would have required
no other basis for the lever with which he was to raise
the world. But, unfortunately for the march of mind
and the progress of public improvements, the banking




138      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
capital of this portion of the republic was diverted to
one of the most singular objects, by one of the most
singular conspiracies, on record.
" It seems" continues the alderman, "that the people of New York, with rather more discretion than
they have since displayed in similar cases, became at
one time rather shy of the paper-money of certain
country banks, and among others of the bank in question. Whereupon the directors, as Fame loudly reported at that time, did incontinently get together and
determine to starve the good citizens of New York
into swallowing their notes, by cutting off their supplies of Goshen butter. Accordingly, as the aforesaid
goddess did loudly trumpet forth to the world, divers
agents, directors, clerks, and cashiers, were sent into
the rich bottoms of Orange County, to contract for all
the butter made, or to be made, during that iemarkable year. The consequence was that a horrible scarcity took place in New York, the burghers whereof
had for a long time nothing to butter their parsnips
with but fair words. But the sturdy people of the
metropolis held out manfully, refusing for a long time
to swallow the aforesaid bank-notes, until being at
length actually reduced to the necessity of substituting Philadelphia butter, they gave in at last, and
agreed to swallow any thing rather than that. Hereupon the butter and the notes of the district came to
market in great quantities, and such was the sympathy which grew up between them, that the latter actually turned yellow, and assumed the exact colour of
the former. In memory of this renowned victory over
the New-Yorkers, the county was called Orange, from
the hue of the butter, and all the milkmaids to this




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      139
day wear orange-coloured ribbons, as they sit milking
their cows and singing Dutch songs."
This is not the place for dilating on the manifold
advantages of banks and paper-money, which last we
look upon as the greatest discovery of modern times,
and, indeed, of all times whatever. But we hope the
enlightened traveller will, for a few moments, withdraw his eyes from the beauties of the scenery, to
attend to some of the most prominent blessings of
paper-money and banks.
In the first place, the institution of paper-money
has called forth the talents of divers persons in the
fine arts, as is exemplified in the numerous attempts
at imitation, which is the basis of the fine arts. Before the sublime invention of paper-money, it was not
worth while for a man to risk his neck or his liberty,
for the paltry purpose of counterfeiting a silver dollar;
but now since the forgery of a single note, and the
successful passing it away, may put a thousand dollars
in the pocket, there is some stimulus to the exercise
of genius. Besides, a man can carry in his pocketbook forged notes, to the amount of hundreds of
thousands of dollars, without exciting attention;
whereas the same amount in counterfeit specie, would
require a dozen wagons or a steam-boat, and inevitably excite suspicion.
Thus it will be found that this branch of the fine
arts has improved and extended prodigiously under
the institution of paper-money; insomuch that the
works of our best artists have been frequently imitated so successfully as to impose upon the most experienced eye. In addition to this singular advantage, it
cannot be denied, that every dollar thus created by




140      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
this spirit of emulation in the fine arts adds so much
to the public wealth, and forms an accession to the
circulating medium. When at last its circulation is
stopped, by a discovery, it will generally be found in
the hands of some ignorant labourer, so poor that the
loss of a few dollars is a matter of little consequence,
as he would at all events be poor, either with or without them. Besides, he deserves to suffer for his ignorance, like every-body else in the world.
Another great blessing of paper-money is, that it
makes all hands believe themselves richer than they
really are, as is exemplified in the following authentic
story of a Connecticut farmer, which we extract from
the annals of that state.
The farmer had a sow and pigs, just at the time a
little bank was set up in a village hard by. The
bank, by making money plenty, raised the price of his
sow and pigs, some fifty per cent. This tempted him
to sell them, which he did, for a high price, - as much
as fifty dollars.  The next spring, he wanted another
sow and pigs, for his winter pork. In the mean while,
the paper of the little bank, having been issued with
too great liberality, had depreciated very considerably,
and he was obliged to give seventy-five dollars for a
sow and pigs. Very well -the sow and pigs were
now worth seventy-five dollars. About this time, the
legislative wisdom chartered another bank, in another
neighbouring town, having a church and a blacksmith's shop-but no whipping-posts, they being
abolished for the benefit of honest people. This made
money still more plenty than before, and our honest
farmer was again tempted to sell his sow and pigs, for
a hundred dollars.  le was now worth fifty dollars




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      141
more than when he commenced speculating, but then
the mischief was that he wanted a sow and pigs.
Very well. The multiplication of paper had its usual
effect in diminishing its value, and it so happened that
he was obliged to buy a sow and pigs for a hundred
and fifty dollars. He calculated he had now made a
hundred dollars by his speculation, but still he had
nothing to show for it but his sow and pigs. To
make an end of our story, our honest farmer was once
more tempted to speculate, by an offer of two hundred dollars for his sow and pigs, and began to talk
of buying an addition to his farm, when unluckily the
bank failed, and the good man's speculation ended in
having exchanged his sow and pigs for nothing. But
he had enjoyed the delight of imaginary wealth all
this time, which every body knows is far better than
the reality, as it brings all the pleasures without any
of the cares of riches. How often do we see men,
rolling in actual wealth, suffering more than the pangs
of poverty, by the anticipation of it;- but who ever
saw one who fancied himself rich haunted by a similar bugbear?
Banking capital is in truth a capital thing. All
other capital is real; this is ideal, and every body
knows the pleasures of imagination far transcend
those of reality. It is better than the music of Amphion or Orpheus, for the former only whistled up the
walls of a city, and the latter set the trees and bears
dancing; while your banking capital can build houses,
and furnish them too; and not only put the bulls and
bears on tiptoe, but make an ass as wise as Solomon.
In short, not to delay the traveller too long from the
beauties of nature, had the old philosophers known




142     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
any thing of paper-money, they would no longer have
disputed about the magnum bonum, which is neither a
vile Brummagem razor, nor a clear conscience, but an
abundance of paper currency.
NEWBURGH is the capital of Orange County. It is
a thriving village, and a great place for holding conventions. The steam-boats stop here just long enough
to give people a fair chance of breaking their shins,
in coming aboard, and getting ashore. The two tides
of people, meeting, occasion a pleasant bustle, very
amusing to the spectator, but not to the actor. There
is a bank here, the notes of which are yellow, in compliment to the butter. The houses are mostly painted
yellow for a similar reason, and the men wear yellow
breeches when they go to church on Sundays. The
complexions of the young women are a little tinged
with this peculiarity; but they are very handsome
notwithstanding, though they can't hold a candle to
the jolly Dutch girls at Fishkill on the opposite side
of the river. Newburgh is not illustrious for any
particular delicacy of the table, which might give it
distinction, and therefore we advise the intelligent
traveller not to trouble himself to stop there. In
order to eat his way through a country with proper
advantage, the enlightened tourist should be apprised
beforehand of these matters, else he will travel to little
purpose.
From  Newburgh to Poughkeepsie, the river presents nothing particularly striking; but the shores are
every where varied with picturesque points of view.
Neither is there any thing remarkable in the eating
way. The traveller may therefore pass on to Poughkeepsie, Pokepsie, or Ploughkeepsie, as the Honour



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      143
able Frederick Augustus De Roos is pleased to call it
in his Travels of Twenty-One Days.
POUGHKEEPSIE is the capital of Dutchess County, so
called in honour of the Duchess of York, daughter of
the famous Chancellor Clarendon. If the Count de
Grammont tells the truth, she had very little honour
to bestow upon the county in return. The origin of
the word, Poughkeepsie, is buried in the remote ages
of antiquity; but it is supposed to be either Creek or
Greek. It is not, however, mentioned by either Ptolemy or Strabo. This omission may be supposed to
indicate that it was not in being at that time. But,
the fact is, the ancients were, like their successors the
moderns, deplorably ignorant of this country, as well
as of the noble science of gastronomy, and expended
as much money upon a goose's liver as would furnish
a dozen tables with all the delicacies of a Parisian
Restaurant. They stuffed the goose with figs -a fig
for such stuffing! Yet must we not undervalue the
skill of the Romans, who were worthy to conquer the
world, if it were only for discovering the inimnitable
art of not only roasting a goose alive, but eating it
alive afterwards. The fattening of worms with meal
was also a matchless excellence of these people. But
it is the noble and princely price of their meals which
most excites our envy and applause; and in this
respect it is that the immortal Apicius, who spent two
millions of dollars in suppers, deserved to give his
name to all modern gourmands. Neither the death
of Curtius, nor of Cato of Utica, nor of any other
Roman worthy, can touch the heel of the shoe of that
of the thrice-renowned Apicius, who starved himself
to death, for fear of being starved, he having but




144      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
about four hundred thousand dollars left to spend in
fattening worms, enlarging livers, and roasting geese
alive. It was a glorious era, when a supper cost half
a million of dollars; and it was worth while for a man
to visit Rome from the uttermost ends of the earth,
only to see these people eat. Truly, we say again,
they deserved the empire of the world.
The highest price we ever paid for a supper in
Poughkeepsie, was - we are ashamed to mention it -
was seventy-five cents. But then we had no live geese,
stuffed worms, or diseased livers. Alas! we shall
never conquer the world if we go on in this way!
Somewhere between Poughkeepsie and Hudson,
inclusive, is said to be a great hot-bed of politics, and
some of the greatest politicians of the state infest this
quarter. In proof of this, it is always found that they
are on the right, that is to say, the strongest, side. We
are told, but do not vouch for the fact, that they consult the weathercock on the court-house steeple, and
change their coats accordingly. If the wind blows
from the North-East, they put on their domestic woollens; if from the South, or West, these being warm
winds, they change their domestic woollens for light
regent's-cloth; and if the wind veers about as it sometimes does, without settling in any quarter, they throw
by their coats entirely, until it blows steadily. He
who has but one coat to his back is obliged to turn it
to suit the wind and weather.  This is the case with
but few, as they are all too good politicians to be reduced to such extremity.  This may be true or not;
we speak but by hearsay, and people ought not to
believe every thing. Certain it is, however, that every
saddler in the town publicly advertises himself as




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        145
"saddler and trimmer," whether in allusion to his
politics or not, we cannot say. If the former be the
case, it shows a most profligate state of public sentiment.  What would the unchangeable, inflexible
patriots of New York and Albany, who don't turn
their coats above once or twice a year, say to such
open profession of versatility!
Nevertheless, Poughkeepsie abounds in the most
delectable of all the works of nature, always excepting
canvas-back ducks, or geese roasted alive; to wit,
damsels ineffably beautiful: that is, if nature may
dispute with a French milliner the honour of producing a fashionable woman, or a woman fashionably
accoutred.  We ourselves sojourned here, erewhile,
that is to say, some five and thirty years ago, and
have not yet got rid of the scars of certain deep
wounds, received from the sharp glances of beauty's
eyes. A walk on the romantic bluffs which overhang
the river, of a summer evening, when the boats are
gliding noiselessly by at your feet, the beautiful landscape softening in the touching obscurity of twilight,
and the skyward line of the Kaatsbergs melting into
nothing, with one of these fair damsels hanging on
your arm, is a thing to be remembered for many a
year, a mighty pretty morsel to put into " time's wallet," only it is apt to give a man the heart-ache for at
least ten years afterwards. Many an invincible dandy
from the west side of Broadway, who never felt the
pangs of love, except for his own dear self, has suffered
more than his tailor from one of these evening walks,
and lived to lament, in broadcloth and spatterdashes,
the loss of such sweet communion, such innocent, yet
dangerous delights. As the prize-poet says: -
10




146       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Past times are half remember'd dreams;
The future, ev'n at best, but seems;
The present is  and then - is not;
Such is man — and such his lot.
Behind, he cannot see for tears;
Before, is nought but hopes and fears;
One cheats him with an empty bubble,
The other always pays him double.'Tis a vile farce of scenes ideal,
Where nought but misery is real."
From  Poughkeepsie to Hudson, the eastern bank of
the river exhibits a uniform character of picturesque
beauty. Villages, and landing-places at the mouths
of large brooks, are scattered at distances of a few
miles, and all is cultivated and pastoral repose. The
western shore is more bold in its features, bounded
at intervals by the blue peaks of the Kaatsbergs in the
distance.  Here lies Kingston, already risen from its
ruins, and exhibiting few traces of that wanton and
foolish barbarity which stimulated the British commander to set fire to it, during the Revolutionary war.
Here, too, lies ATHENS, about which our learned Thebans have had such hot disputes; some maintaining
that Boston, others that Philadelphia, and others that
New York, was the real Athens of America.  In vain
have they wasted their ink, their time, and their readers' patience, on the theme. Here lies the true Athens
of America, unknown and unnoticed by the learned,
who are always looking for Babylon at Nineveh, and
Nineveh at Babylon; and wasting centuries of speculation in searching for something right under their
nose, like the great bookworm  Magliabecchi, who
spent three days in looking for a pen, which he carried in his mouth all the time.
What is it constitutes the identity of a man?  His




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     147
name. And what, we would ask, constitutes the identity of a city?  The same. Would New York be
New York, or Albany, Albany    by any other name?
and would any thing be necessary to change New
York into Albany, and Albany into New York, except
to exchange their names? What nonsense is it then
for people to be denying that Athens is Athens, and
not Boston, Philadelphia, or New York, which had
better be content with their own true baptismal names,
than to be usurping those of other cities. We trust
we have settled this question forever, and that, hereafter, these great overgrown, upstart cities will leave
our little Athens in the undisturbed possession of its
name and honours. If any city of the United States
could dispute this matter without blushing, it would
assuredly be New York, which has a " Pantheon," for
vending oysters; an " Acropolis," for ready-made linen;
an "Athenian Company," for manufacturing coarse
woollens; and a duck-pond, called the Piraeus. Nor
are Boston and Philadelphia without very specious
claims; the former having an Athenaeum, and a market-house with a front in imitation of the Temple of
Minerva, because Minerva is the goddess of wisdom,
and all market-women are thrifty, or in common
acceptation, wise; while the latter has its two magnificent fanes of Plutus, god of paper-money, he being
the only Pagan divinity to whom the Christians erect
temples.
KAATSKILL.
Those who are fond of climbing mountains in a
hot day, and looking down till their heads turn, must
land at the village of Kaatskill, whence they can pro



148       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
cure a conveyance to the hotel at Pine Orchard, three
thousand feet above the level of the river, and have
the pleasure of sleeping under blankets in the dogdays.  Here the tourist may enjoy a prospect of
unbounded extent and magnificence, and receive a lesson of the insignificance of all created things. Standing near the verge of the cliff, he looks down, and no
object strikes his view, except at a distance of fifteen
hundred feet below.  Crawling there, man is but an
atom, hardly visible; the ox is but a mouse; and the
sheep are little white specks in the fields, which themselves are no bigger than the glasses of a pair of green
spectacles.  The traveller may judge of the insignificance even of the most stately objects, when told that
a fashionable lady's hat and feathers dwindles in the
distance to the size of a moderate mushroom!  It is,
we trust, needless to caution the tourist against falling down this dizzy steep, as in all probability he
would come to some harm.
There are two cascades not far from the Pine Orchard, which want nothing but a little more water to
be wonderfully sublime.  Generally there is no water
at all, but the proper application of half a dollar will
set it running presently.
"Music* has charms to soothe the savage breast,
To raise floodgates, and make the waters flow."
Messrs. Wall and Cole, two fine artists, admirable
in different, we might almost say, opposite, styles, have
illustrated the scenery of the Kaatskill by more than
one picture of singular excellence. We should like to
see such pictures gracing the drawing-rooms of the
* Music -figurative for the jingling of silver —the only modern music
that works such miracles.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       149
wealthy, instead of the imported trumpery of British
naval-fights, or coloured engravings, and, above all, in
the place of that vulgar, tasteless, and inelegant accumulation of gilded finery, which costs more than a
dozen fine landscapes.   These lovers of cut-glass
lamps, rose-wood sofas, and convex mirrors, have yet
to learn that a single bust or picture of a master
adorns and enriches the parlour of a gentleman, in the
eyes of a well-bred person, a thousand times more
than the spoils of half a dozen fashionable warehouses.
But, after all, there is nothing in this world like a
good appetite and plenty of good things to satisfy, or
rather satiate, it; for merely to satisfy the appetite is
to treat it as one would that of a horse. In this
respect, and this only in our estimation, are the tops
of high mountains entitled to consideration.  It is
amazing what a glorious propensity to eating is generated by the keen air of these respectable protuberances. People have been known to eat up every thing
in the house at a meal, and report says that a fat
waiter once disappeared in a very mysterious manner.
The stomach expands with the majesty and expansion of the prospect, to a capacity equally majestic,
and the worthy landlord at the Pine Orchard (between
ourselves) has assured us that he has known a sickly
young lady, who was travelling for an appetite, discuss venison for breakfast like an alderman. Certain
half-starved critics, will, without doubt, sharpen their
wits as sharp as their appetites, and, putting gray
goose-lance in rest, tilt at us terribly, for thus exalting
the accomplishment of eating above all others, and
inciting people to inordinate feats of the trencher.




150      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
But we will shut their mouths at once and forever,
by asking a simple question, -whether the sine qua
non of rich and idle people's comfort and happiness
is not exercise, without which they cannot enjoy either
their wealth or their leisure?  Having answered this
question, we will ask them another, to wit: whether
there be any exercise, not to say hard work, equal to
that which the inward and outward man undergoes
in the final disposal of a sumptuous dinner or supper?
How he puffs, and blows, and sighs, and snoozes, and,
heaven forgive us! belches, -and twists and turns,
enjoying neither stillness nor motion, until he has
quieted this mighty mass of ingredients.  In short, it
is the hardest exercise in the world, and of course
must be highly beneficial to health.  This is what
constitutes the unrivalled excellence of eating, and
its superiority over all other carnal delights; since we
have the pleasures of taste in the first place, and, in
the second, the benefit of real training to prepare us
for a new meal.  Hence it was, that a famous eating
philosopher, hearing a peasant grumbling that he
could not, like him, live without work, replied in the
following impromptu" I labour to digest one dinner, more
Than you, you blockhead, do, to earn a score."
"The town of Kaatskill, and the neighbouring
country," observes Alderman Janson in his manuscript ana, " is the seat of many Dutch families, whose
ancestors settled there in the olden time.  Honest, industrious, and sober  what a noble trio of virtues!
-they pursue the even tenor of their way, and would
continue to do so for generations to come, were it
not for the late attempts to corrupt them with canals




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       151
and great state-roads; and, above all, by locating a
fashionable hotel in the very centre of their stronghold, the Kaatskill Mountain. Since the introduction
of these pestilent novelties, divers rebellious movements against the good old customs have been noticed. It is not long since, that several old ladies,
whose descent ought to have forever saved them from
the temptation of such enormities, have introduced
the fashion of drinking tea by candle-light; and that
a young fellow -a genuine descendant of Rip Van
Winkle - being out shooting, met a Dutch damsel in
a fashionable bonnet, whereat he was so frightened
that he fired his gun at random, and ran home to tell
his mother that he had seen a strange wild beast, that
looked, for all the world, "like I don't know what."
It is a sore thing to see the venerable customs of
antiquity thus gradually beaten from their last intrenchments in the mountains. All this comes of
steam-boats, manufactories, and other horrible enormities of this improving age."
HUDSON.
"A very respectable town, or rather, city," says
Alderman Janson: " so called after the renowned
Hendrik Hudson of blessed memory. It is opposite
to Athens, and ought to have been noticed immediately after it. But if the traveller wishes particularly
to view the city, he has only to mention his desire,
and the steam-boat will turn back with him, for they
are very obliging. Hudson furnishes one of those examples of rapid growth, so common, and so peculiar,
to our country. It goes back no farther than 1786,




152      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
and is said now to contain nearly two thousand inhabitants. But towns, like children, are very apt to
grow more in the first few years, than in all their lives
after. Hudson, however, has a bank, which is a sort
of wet-nurse to these little towns, giving them too
often a precocious growth, which is followed by a
permanent debility. The town is beautifully situated,
and the environs are of the most picturesque and romantic description. There are several pretty countryseats in the neighbourhood. Here ends, according to
the law of Nature, the ship-navigation of the river;
but, by a law of the Legislature, a company has been
incorporated with a capital of one million of dollars 
how easy it is to coin money in this way! - to make
a canal to New Baltimore; for what purpose, only
legislative wisdom can explain.  There was likewise
an incorporated company, to build a mud-machine
for deepening the river. But the river is no deeper
than it was, and the canal to New Baltimore is not
made, probably because the million of dollars is not
forthcoming.  One may pay too dear for a canal, as
well as for a whistle. That canals are far better than
rivers is not to be doubted; but, as we get our rivers
for nothing, and pay pretty dearly for our canals, I
would beg leave to represent in behalf of the poor
rivers, that they are entitled to some little consideration, if it is only on the score of coming as free gifts.
Hudson is said to be very much infested with politicians, a race of men, who, though they have never
been classed among those who live by their own wits
and the little wit of their neighbours, certainly belong
to the genus."
From hence to Albany the Hudson gradually de



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        153
creases in magnitude, changing its character of a
mighty river for that of a pleasant pastoral stream.
The high banks gradually subside into rich flats, portentous of Dutchmen, who light on them as certainly
as do the snipes and "plovers. " Wisely despising,"
observes Alderman Janson, "the barren mountains
which are only made to look at, they passed on up
the river from Fort Amsterdam, till they arrived hereabouts, and here they pitched their tents. Their descendants still retain possession of the seats of their
ancestors, though sorely beset, by the march of the
human mind and the progress of public improvement
on one hand, and on the other by interlopers from the
modern Scythia, the cradle of the human race in the
new world, Connecticut.  These last, by their pestilent scholarship, and mischievous contrivances of
patent ploughs, patent threshing-machines, patent
corn-shellers, and patent churns, for the encouragement of domestic industry, have gone near to overset all the statutes of St. Nicholas.  The honest
burghers of Coeymans, Coxsackie, and New Paltz,
still hold out manfully; but, alas! the women - the
women are prone to apostasy, and hanker after novelties.  A Dutch damsel can't, for her heart, resist a
Connecticut school-master with his rosy cheeks and
store of book-learning; and even honest yffrouw herself chuckles a little amatory Dutch at his approach,
simpering mightily thereat, and stroking down her
apron.  A  goose betrayed —no, I am  wrong- a
goose once saved the capitol of Rome; and it is to
be feared a woman will finally betray the citadels of
Coeymans, Coxsackie, and New Paltz, to the schoolmasters of Connecticut, who circumvent them with




154          THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
outlandish  scholarship.   These  speculations,"  quoth
the worthy alderman,*  "remind me of the mishap of
my unfortunate great uncle, Douw Van Wezel, who
sunk  under  the  star of one  of these  errant grammarians.               -
" Douw and little Alida Vander Spiegle had been
play-mates since their infancy - I was going to say
school-mates, but at that time there was no such thing
as a school, so far as I can learn, in the neighbourhood, to teach the young varlets to chalk naughty
words on walls and  fences, which is all that learning
* We ought, long before this, to have apprised the reader, that Alderman Nicholas Nicodemus Janson was the flower of the magistracy of Coxsackie, and died full of years and honours, on his patron St. Nicholas' day,
in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and twenty-seven. He
was our great-uncle by the mother's side, and many are the happy days we
remember to have passed in his honest old Dutch house, which, according
to custom, has lately been turned into a tavern. He was indisputably the
greatest scholar of the age, in the opinion of his neighbours, who ought to
know him best, and as compared with divers great authors of the present
time, of whom he was wont to say, that he furnished one with all the botany,
and another with all the geology, he ever had in his life. He left behind
him twenty-six large volumes of manuscripts, which he devised to the writer
of this book, as he expressed it, " In special token of my affectionate remembrance, considering them as by far the most valuable of my possessions." The
rest of the heirs never disputed the legacy; and, what is quite unaccountable, the executors turned it over to us with the utmost promptitude, while
some other legatees remain unpaid to this day. These gentlemen will be
astonished, if not mortified, to hear, that we have lately been offered more
for these invaluable manuscripts than all the rest of the worthy alderman's
property is worth. But we disdain to sell what was bestowed upon us
freely; and it is our intention, when we are grown too old to travel, to publish the whole twenty-six volumes, under the title of "Reminiscences," at
our own expense, charging the public nothing for the insides, and only two
dollars a volume for the binding: - to the which course we are vehemently
incited by the example of a certain worthy of Coxsackie, who, being desirous
the public should enjoy the full benefit of a famous nostrum of his for the
cure of all things, did actually give away the said nostrum for nothing, only
charging four shillings for the bottles:- whereby all the country was cured,
without any expense, and the worthy philanthropist got rich, with a clear
conscience.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      155
is good for, for aught I see. Douw was no scholar,
so there was no danger of his getting into the stateprison for forgery; but it requires little learning to
fall in love. Alida had however staid a whole winter
in York, where she learned to talk crooked English,
and cock her pretty little pug-nose at our good old
customs.  They were the only offspring of their
respective parents, whose farms lay side by side,
squinting plainly at matrimony between the young
people. Douw and Alida went to church together
every Sunday; wandered into the church-yard, where
Alida read the epitaphs for him; and it was the talk
of every-body that it would certainly be a match.
Douw was a handsome fellow for a Dutchman, though
he lacked that effeminate ruddiness which seduces
poor ignorant women. He had a stout frame, a
bluish complexion, straight black hair, eyes of the
colour of indigo, and as honest a pair of old-fashioned
mahogany-baluster legs, as you would wish to see
under a man. It was worth while to make good legs
then, when every man wore breeches, and some of the
women too, if report is to be credited. Alida was
the prettiest little Dutch damsel that ever had her
stocking filled with cakes on new-year's eve, by the
blessed St. Nicholas. I will not describe her, lest the
whole army of my readers should fall in love with
her, or at all events weep themselves into Saratoga
fountains, when they come to hear of the disastrous
fate of poor Douw, whose destiny it was   but let us
have no anticipations; sufficient for the day is the
evil thereof.
"It was new-year's eve, and Douw was invited to
see out the old year at Judge Vander Spiegle's, in the




156      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
honest old Dutch way, under the special patronage of
St. Nicholas, to whom whoever fails in due honour
and allegiance, this be his fate: never to sip the dew
from the lips of the lass he loveth best, on new-year's
eve, or new-year's morn; never to taste of hot spiced
Santa Cruz; and never to know the delights of mincepies and sausages, swimming in the sauce of honest
mirth and home-felt jollity. St. Nicholas!, thricejolly St. Nicholas! Bacchus of Christian Dutchmen,
king of good fellows, patron of holiday fare, inspirer
of simple frolic and unsophisticated happiness, saint
of all saints that deck the glorious calendar! -thou
that first awakenest the hopes of the prattling infant;
dawnest anticipated happiness on the school-boy; and
brightenest the wintry hours of manhood -if I forget
thee whatever betide, or whatever fantastic, heartless
follies may usurp the place of thy simple celebration,
may I lose with the recollection of past pleasures the
anticipation of pleasures to come, yawn at a tea-party,
petrify at a soir6e, and perish finally, overwhelmed, in
a deluge of whip-syllabub and floating-island! Thrice,
and three times thrice, jolly St. Nicholas! On this,
the first day of the new year, 1826, with an honest
reverence and a full bumper of cherry-bounce, I salute
thee! Io, St. Nicholas!  May thy sleigh-bells tinkle
for ever!
"There were glorious doings at the judge's among
the young folks, and the old ones too, for that matter,
till one or two or perhaps three in the morning, when
the visitors got into their sleighs and skirred away
home, leaving Douw and the fair Alida alone, or as
good as alone, for the judge and the yffrouw, were as
sound as a church in the two chimney-corners. If




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      157
wine, and French liqueurs, and such trumpery, make
a man gallant and adventurous, what will not hot
spiced Santa Cruz achieve! Douw  was certainly
somewhat flustered — perhaps it might be predicated
of him that he was as it were a little tipsy. Certain
it is, he waxed brave as a Dutch lion. I'll not swear
but that he put his arm round her waist, and kissed
the little Dutch girl - but I will swear positively that
before the parties knew whether they were standing
on their heads or feet, they had exchanged vows
and become irrevocably engaged. Whereupon Douw
waked the old judge, and asked his consent, on the
spot. "a Yw  aw  - yawned the judge, and fell fast
asleep again in a twinkling. Nothing but the last
trumpet would have roused the yffrouw till dawn.
" In the morning, the good yffrouw was let into the
affair, and began to bestir herself accordingly. I cannot count the sheets, and table-cloths, and towels, the
good woman mustered out, nor describe the preparations made for the expected wedding. There was a
cake baked, as big as Kaatskill Mountain, and mincepies enough to cover it. There were cates of a hundred ignoble names, and sweetmeats enough to kill
a whole village.  All was preparation, expectation,
and prognostication. A Dutch tailor had constructed
Douw a suit of snuff-colour, that made him look like
a great roll of leaf-tobacco; and a York milliner had
exercised her skill in the composition of a weddingdress for Alida, that made the hair of the girls of
Coeymans and Coxsackie stand on end.  All was
ready, and the day appointed. But, alas! I wonder
no one has yet had the sagacity to observe, and proclaim to the world, that all things in this life are




158      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
uncertain, and that the anticipations of youth are
often disappointed.
"Just three weeks before the wedding, there appeared in the village of Coxsackie a young fellow,
dressed in a three-cornered cocked-hat, (with a queue
at least a yard long hanging from under it, tied up in
an eel skin), a spruce blue coat, (not much the worse
for wear), a red waistcoat, corduroy breeches, handsome cotton stockings with a pair of good legs in
them, and pumps with silver buckles. His arrival
was like the shock of an earthquake, he being the
first stranger that had appeared within the memory
of man. He was of a goodly height, well-shaped,
and had a pair of rosy cheeks, which no Dutch damsel ever could resist, for, to say the truth, our Dutch
lads are apt to be a little dusky in the epidermis.
"He gave out that he was come to set up a school,
and teach the little chubby Dutch boys and girls
English.  The men set their faces against this monstrous innovation; but the women  the women! they
always will run after novelty, and they ran after the
school-master, his red cheeks, and his red waistcoat.
Yffrouw Vander Spiegle contested the empire of the
world within doors with his honour the judge, and
bore a divided reign. She was smitten with a desire
to become a blue-stocking herself, or, at least, that
her daughter should.  The yffrouw  was the bellwether of fashion in the village; of course many other
yffrouws followed her example, and in a little time
the lucky school-master was surrounded by half the
grown-up damsels of Coxsackie.
" Alida soon became distinguished as his favourite
scholar; she was the prettiest, the richest girl in the




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     159
school; and she could talk English, which the others
were only just learning.  He taught her to read
poetry -he taught her to talk with her eyes — to
write love-letters - and, at last, to love. Douw was
a lost man, the moment the school-master came
into the village. He first got the blind side of the
daughter, and then of the yffrouw: but he found it
rather a hard matter to get the blind side of the
judge, who had heard from his brother in Albany,
what pranks these Connecticut boys were playing
there.  He discouraged the school-master; and he
encouraged Douw to press his suit, which Alida had
put off, and put off, from time to time. She was
sick - and not ready - and indifferent - and sometimes as cross as a little Fury. Douw smoked his
pipe harder than ever at her; but she resisted like a
heroine.
" In those times of cheap simplicity, it was the
custom of the country for the school-master to board
in turn with the parents of his scholars, a week or a
fortnight at a time, and it is recorded of these learned
Thebans, that they always staid longest where there
was a pretty daughter, and plenty of pies and sweetmeats. The time at last came round, when it was
the school-master's turn to spend the allotted fortnight
with Judge Vander Spiegle, sorely to the gloomy forebodements of Douw, who began to have a strong suspicion of the cause of Alida's coldness. The schoolmaster knew which side his bread was buttered, and
laid close siege to the yffrouw, by praising her good
things, exalting her consequence, and depreciating
that of her neighbours.  Nor did he neglect the
daughter whom he plied with poetry, melting looks,




160     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
significant squeezes, and all that  although all that
was quite unnecessary, for she was ready to run away
with him at any time. But this did not suit our
schemer: he might be divorced from the acres, if he
married without the consent of the judge. He however continued to administer fuel to the flame, and
never missed abusing poor Douw to his face, without
the latter being the wiser for it, he not understanding
a word of English.
" By degrees he opened the matter to the yffrouw,
who liked it exceedingly, for she was, as we said before, inclined to the mysteries of blue-stockingism,
and was half in love with his red waistcoat and red
cheeks. Finally, she told him, in an ingenuous way,
that as there were two to one in his favour, and the
old judge would, she knew, never consent to the marriage while he could help it, the best thing he could
do was to go and get married as soon as possible,
and she would bear him out. That very night Douw
became a disconsolate widower, although, poor fellow,
he did not know of it till the next morning. The
judge stormed and swore, and the yffrouw talked, till
at length he allowed them to come and live in the
house, but with the proviso that they were never to
speak to him, nor he to them. A little grandson in
process of time healed all these internal divisions.
They christened him  Adrian Vander Spiegle, after
his grandfather, and, when it came to pass that the
old patriarch died, the estate passed from the Vander
Spiegles to the Longfellows, after the manner of
men.
" Poor Douw grew melancholy, and pondered ofttimes whether he should bring his action for breach




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        161
of promise, fly the country forever, turn Methodist,
or marry under the nose of the faithless Alida,'on
purpose to spite her.' He finally decided on the latter, married a little Dutch brunette from Kinderhook,
and prospered mightily in posterity, as did'also his
neighbour, Philo Longfellow. But it was observed
that the little Van Wezels and the little Longfellows
never met without fighting; and that, as they grew
up, this hostility gathered additional bitterness. In
process of time the village became divided into two
factions, which gradually spread wherever the Yankees
and the Dutch mixed together; and finally, like the
feuds of the Guelphs and Ghibellines, divided the
land for almost a hundred miles round."
ALBANY.
Leaving  Coxsackie, the traveller gradually approaches those rich little islands and flats, beloved
by the honest Dutchmen of all parts of the world, in
the midst of which are seen the long comfortable
brick mansions of the Cuylers, the Schuylers, the Van
Rensselaers, and others of the patroons of ancient
times. " I never see one of these,' quoth Alderman
Janson, "without picturing to myself the plentiful
breakfasts, solid dinners, and manifold evening repasts, which have been, and still are, discussed in
these comfortable old halls, guiltless of folding doors
and marble mantel-pieces, and all that modern trumpery which starves the kitchen to decorate the parlour, and robs the stranger of his hospitable welcome
for the sake of glitter and trash. I never think of
the picture so delightfully drawn by Mrs. Grant, in the
11




162     *T.HE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Memoirs of an American Lady,' of the noble patriarchal state of'Uncle Schuyler' and his amiable
wife, without contrasting it with the empty, vapid,
mean, and selfish pageantry of the present time, which
satiates itself with the paltry vanity of display, and
stoops to all the dirty drudgery of brokerage and speculation, to gather wealth, only to excite the gaping wonder, or secret envy, of vulgar rivals. By St. Nicholas,
the patron of good fellows, but the march of the human intellect is sometimes like that of a crab, backwards!"
" The city of Albany," continues the worthy alderman, "was founded, not by Mars, Neptune, Minerva,
nor Vulcan, nor by any of the wandering vagabond
gods of ancient times. Neither does it owe its origin
to a runaway hero like IEneas, nor to a runaway
debtor, like a place that shall be nameless. Its first
settlers were a race of portly burghers from old Holland, who, sailing up the river in search of a restingplace, and observing how the rich flats invited them
as it were to their fat and fruitful bowers, landed
thereabouts, lighted their pipes, and began to build
their dwellings without saying one word. Tradition
also imports, that they were somewhat incited to this
by seeing divers large and stately sturgeons jumping
up out of the river, as they are wont to do most incontinently in these parts.  These sturgeons are,
(when properly disguised by cookery so that you
cannot tell what they may be), most savoury and
excellent food, although there is no truth in the story
hatched by the pestilent descendants of Philo Longfellow, that the flesh of the sturgeon is called Albany
beef, and that it is sometimes served up at Rockwell's,




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      163
Cruttenden's, and other favourite resorts of tourists,
as veal-cutlets.  Out upon such slanders!  By St.
Nicholas, the Longfellows lie most immoderately.
The worthy burghers of Albany never deceived a
Christian in their lives. As their old proverb says:'Twould make an honest Dutchman laugh,
To say a sturgeon is a calf.'
"The Indians, according to the learned Knickerbocker, perceiving that the new-comers were, like
themselves, great smokers, took a vast liking to them,
and brought out the pipe of peace, without saying
a word, and presently a cloud of smoke overspread the
land, like the haze of the Indian summer. An old chief
at length looked at Mynheer Van Wezel, the leader
of the party, and gave a significant grunt. Mynheer
Van Wezel looked at the old Indian and gave another
grunt equally significant. Thus they came to a mutual good-understanding, and a treaty was concluded,
without exchanging a single word, or any other ceremony than a good sociable smoking-party. Some of
the descendants of Philo Longfellow insinuate that
Mynheer Van Wezel took an opportunity of presenting his pistol, well charged with Schiedam, to the old
chief and his followers, and that it operated marvellously in bringing about the treaty. But there is not
a word of truth in the story. This good-understanding
was produced by the magic virtues of silence and
tobacco. This example shows how easy it is to be
good friends, if people will only hold their tongues;
and it moreover forever rescues the excellent practice
of smoking from the dull jests of effeminate puppies,
who affect to call it vulgar. If modern negotiators
would only sit down and smoke a familiar pipe to



164      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
gether every day for five or six months, my life upon
it there would be less ink shed, and blood shed, too,
in this world. By St. Nicholas, the saint of smokers!,
there is nothing comparable to the pipe, for soothing
anger, softening down irritation, solacing disappointment, and disposing the mind to balmy contemplation, poetical flights, and lofty soarings of the fancy;
insomuch that any young bard, who will tie his shirt
with a black ribbon and take to smoking and drinking
gin and water like my Lord Byron, will in a short
time write equal to his lordship, allowing for accidents."
"Thus," continues the alderman, "was the city of
Albany founded, and originally called Zll-bonny, as the
Dutch people still pronounce it, from the bonny river,
the bonny woods, bonny pastures, and bonny landscapes by which it was environed. But, blessed St.
Nicholas!, how is it sophisticated, since, by the posterity of Philo Longfellow; by politicians, tourists,
and lobby-members; by widening streets, building
basins, and digging canals! The old Dutch church,
where the followers of Mynheer Van Wezel first
offered up their simple orisons, is pulled down, and in
its room a nondescript with two tin steeples erected,
wherein they preach nothing but English. The young
men who descend from the founders are not Dutchmen at all, and the damsels are nought. Not one in
a hundred can read a Dutch Bible! In a little while
the children of that roving Ishmaelite, Philo Longfellow, will sweep them from their inheritance, and
the land shall know them no more. The very houses
have changed their position, and it is written, that an
old mansion of Dutch brick which whilom projected




THE NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.                 165
its end in front, on Pearl Street, did one night incontinently turn its broadside to the street, as if resolved
like its master to be in the fashion, and follow the
march of public improvement."
As the prize-poet sings-corroborating the sentiments of the worthy alderman"All things do change in this queer world;
Which world is topsy-turvy hurl'd!
Tadpoles to skipping bull-frogs turn,
And whales in lighted candles burn;
The worm of yesterday, today,
Flies, a rich butterfly, away;
The city belles all turn religious,
And say their prayers in hats prodigious;
St. Tammany becomes Clintonian,
And Adams-men downright Jacksonian.
Thus all our tastes are wild and fleeting,
And most of all our taste in eating:
I knew a man - or rather, savage,
Who went from ducks * to beef and cabbage! "
As Albany is a sort of depot, where the commodities of the fashionable world are warehoused (as it
were) a  night or two, for exportation  to  Saratoga,
Niagara, Montreal, Quebec, and  Boston, we  shall
here present to our readers a short system of rules
and regulations, for detecting good inns, and, generally, for travelling with dignity and refinement.
And first, as to smelling out a comfortable inn.
Never go where the  stage-drivers  or steam-boat
men advise you.
Never go to a newly-painted house-trap for the
greenhorns.  A  butcher's-cart, with a good fat butcher, handing out turkeys, venison, ducks, marbled beef,
* Qucere. - Canvas-backs? - if so, there is no hope for him.




166      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
celery, and cauliflowers, is the best sign for a publichouse.
Never go to a hotel that has a fine gilt-framed picture of itself hung up in the steam-boat.  Good wine
needs no bush   a good hotel speaks for itself, and
will be found out without a picture.
Always yield implicit obedience to a puff in the
newspapers in praise of any hotel. It is a proof that
the landlord has been over-civil to one guest at the
expense of all the others. No man is ever particularly
pleased anywhere, or with any body, unless he has
received more attention than he deserves. Perhaps
you may be equally favoured, particularly if you hint
that you mean to publish your travels. Even publicans sigh for immortality.
Never seem anxious to get lodgings at any particular place. The landlord will put you in the garret if
you do, unless you come in your own carriage.
If you have no servant, always hire one of the
smartest-dressed fellows of the steam-boat to carry
your baggage, and pass him off, if possible, till you
are snugly housed at the hotel, as your own. Your
accommodations will be the better for it; and when
the mistake is discovered, they can't turn you out of
your room, you know.
Grumble at your accommodations every morning.
It will make you appear of consequence, and, if there
are better in the house, in time you will get them.
Take the first opportunity to insinuate to the waiters, one at a time, that, if they remember you, you
will remember them when you go away. You will
have every soul of them at your command. N. B.
You need not keep your promise.




THE NEW, MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.    167
Respecting the best public-houses in Albany, there
are conflicting opinions.  Some think Rockwell's,
some Cruttenden's, the best. We dont know much
of Rockwell, but Cruttenden, thrice-jolly Cruttenden,
we pronounce worthy to be landlord to the whole
universe. Fate intended him to keep open house,
and if she had only furnished him with money enough,
he would have done it at his own expense, instead of
that of other people. He is the Falstaff of hosts, for
he not only drinks himself, but causes others to drink,
by virtue of his excellent wines, excellent jokes, and
excellent example. However, as we profess the most
rigorous impartiality, we give no opinion whatever on
the relative merits of the two houses, haAing - for
which we hope to be forgiven —more than once got
royally fuddled at each. If, however, the traveller is
particular, as he ought to be in these matters, he has
only to inquire where a certain worthy member from
New York puts up during the session. He will be
morally certain of finding good fare and good lodgings there.
Lastly, never go away from a place without paying
your bill, unless you have nothing to pay it with.
Necessitas non habet, &c. - A man must travel nowadays, or he is absolutely nobody; and if he has no
money, it must be at the expense of other people. In
case you set out on aforay of this kind, it is advisable
to have two trunks, one a small one for your own
clothes and those of other people, the other a strong,
well-braced, well-riveted, large-sized one, filled with
brick-bats. Be sure to talk "big" about having married a rich wife as ugly as sin, for the sake of her
money; about your great relations; and, if your mod



168      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
esty won't permit you to pass for a lord, don't abate a
hair's-breadth of being second cousin to one. When
the landlord becomes troublesome, or inattentive, and
begins to throw out hints about the colour of a man's
money, hire a gig, take your little trunk, give out that
you are going to visit some well-known gentleman in
the neighbourhood, for a day or two, and leave the
great trunk behind for the benefit of mine host. It is
not expected you will send back the gig.
" Albany," - we again quote from the ana of Alderman Janson, the prince of city magistrates" Albany is the capital of the state of New York, having been the seat of government for almost half a
century. Formerly the legislature met in New York;
but in process of time it was found that the members,
being seduced into huge feeding by the attractions of
oysters, and turtle and calfs-head soup, did, half the
time, doze all through their afternoon session, and enact
divers mischievous laws, to the great detriment of the
community. Thereupon they resolved to remove to
Albany; but, alas!, luxury and dissipation followed
in their train, so that after a while they fell asleep
oftener than ever, and passed other laws, which nothing but their being fast asleep could excuse. In my
opinion, it would tend greatly to the happiness of the
community, and go far to prevent this practice of legislating with the eyes shut, if these bodies were to
meet in council like the Indians, under the trees in
the open air, and be obliged to legislate, standing.
This would prevent one man from talking all the rest
to sleep, (unless they slept, like geese, poised on one
leg), and thereby arrest the passage of many pernicious




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     169
enactments for mending rivers, mending manners,
mending charters, mending codes, making roads, and
making beasts of burden of the people and fools of
themselves. Truly saith the wise man,' Too much
of a good thing is good for nothing;' and too much
legislation is a species of sly, insidious oppression,
the more mischievous as coming in the disguise of
powers exercised by the servants, instead of the masters, of the people. Commend me to King Log,
rather than King Stork. Every legislative body, in
my opinion, should have a majority of good honest,
sleepy, patriotic members, whose pleasure it should be
to do nothing for most part of the time during the
session. Your active men are highly noxious in a
government; they must always be doing something,
meddling with every one's concerns, and so busy in
keeping the wheels of government going, that they
don't care how many people they run over. They are
millstones in motion, and when they have no grist to
grind will set one another on fire.  To my notion,
the most useful member that ever sat in Congress
was one who never in his life made any motion except for an adjournment, which he repeated every day
just before dinner-time. Truly, the energy and activity of a blockhead are awful."
" Once upon a time," (so says the fable, according
to Alderman Janson), "the empire of the geese was
under the government of an old king Gander, who,
though he exercised an absolute sway, was so idle,
pampered, and phlegmatic, that he slept three fourths
of his time, during which the subject geese did pretty
much as they pleased. But for all this he was a prodigious tyrant, who consumed more corn than half of




170      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
his subjects, and moreover obliged them to duck their
heads to him wheneverthey passed. But the chief
complaint against him was, that though he could do
just as he pleased, it was his pleasure to sit still and
do nothing.
" Whereupon it came to pass one day, that his subjects held a town-meeting, or it might be a convention, and dethroned him, placing the government
in the hands of the wise geese. Feeling themselves
called upon to justify the choice of the nation, by
bettering its condition, the wise geese set to work, and
passed so many excellent laws, that in a little time
the wisest goose of the community could hardly tell
whether it was lawful to say boo to a goose, or hiss at
a puppy-dog, or kick up a dust in a mill-pond of a
warm  summer morning. When the time of these
wise geese expired, other geese still wiser were chosen'
to govern in their stead, for such was the prodigious
march of mind among them, that there was not a
goose in the whole empire but believed himself ten
times wiser than his father before him. Each succeeding council of wise geese of course considered itself
under obligation to give a push to the march of mind,
until at length the mind marched so fast that it was
in great danger of falling on its nose, and continually
ran against posts, or fell into ditches.
" Thus each generation of wise geese went on making excellent laws to assist the march of mind and the
progress of public improvement, until, in process of
time, there were no more good laws to pass, and it became necessary to pass bad ones to keep their hands
in, and themselves in their places.' Gentlemen,' said
a little, busy, bustling, active, managing, talkative




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.    171
young goose, who was resolved nobody should insinuate that he could not say boo to a goose'- gentlemen, it does not signify, we must do something for
the march of mind and the progress of public improvement, or the citizen-geese will reduce us all to
nought, and choose other wise geese in our stead.
They are already the happiest geese in the world; we
must make them a little too happy, or they will never
be satisfied.'  Hereupon each of the wise geese
burned to do something to assist the march of the
mind and the progress of public improvement. One
proposed a law to forbid geese to stand upon one leg
at night and nuzzle their bills in their own feathers,
this being a dangerous practice inasmuch as it exposed
them to be surprised the more easily by foxes. Another offered a resolution, to oblige all the geese to
lay their eggs the other end foremost and hatch them
in half the usual period, whereby much time would
be saved, and there would be a mighty increase of
population. (This last motion was made by an oldbachelor goose, who had made the subject of population his chief study). A third proposed a law forbidding the young goslings to paddle in the water, till
they were old enough to get out of the way of the
great bull-frogs and snapping-turtles. A fourth moved
to pick one half the geese of one half their feathers,
and give them to the other half of the geese, for the
encouragement of domestic industry and the national
independence. After these laws had been debated
about six months, they were passed without opposition, it being discovered, to the great surprise of the
house, that there was no difference of opinion on the
subject.




172     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
" Had these edicts been propounded by old king
Gander, there would have been the devil to pay
among the geese, and such a hissing as was never
heard.before. But there is a vast difference between
being governed by a master and a slave. We see the
proudest monarchs and the most headstrong tyrants
submitting to the whim of a valet, or a gentlemanusher, or any other mere menial, when they would
resist the will of their subjects on all occasions. So
with the people, and so it was with the republic of
the geese: they allowed themselves to be perpetually
cajoled, and laughed at the idea of the possibility of
having their chains riveted by their own servants. So
the married geese set to work to lay their eggs according to law. But nature is an obstinate lady, and
there is no legislating her into reason. The eggs and
the goslings came into the world just as they did
before. The goslings, contrary to law, would be dabbling in the water, and getting now and then caught
by the snapping-turtles, and there was no such thing
as punishing the little rogues after they were dead.
In short, of all these laws, there was but one which
actually went into operation, namely, that for picking
one half of the geese for the benefit of the other
half.
" But it was never yet known that either men or
geese were content with a broken loaf when they could
get the whole. The half of the republic of the geese,
for whose benefit the other half had been picked, in
process of time waxed fat, and strong, and wealthy,
whereas the moiety that had been stripped of a good
share of their feathers for the encouragement of domestic industry waxed proportionably poor and mea



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      173
gre, and their breast-bones projected awfully, like unto
cut-waters. The fat geese now began to grumble
that there was a great want of patriotism in the rules
of the goosian republic, in not properly encouraging
domestic industry, since nothing was clearer than that,
if half a loaf was good, the whole loaf was better.
So they petitioned — and the petition of the strong is
a demand -they petitioned that the geese who had
lost half their feathers for the public good should be
called upon to yield the other half, like honest, patriotic fellows. The law was passed accordingly. But
public discontent is like a great bell; it takes a long
time in raising, but makes a mighty noise when once
up. The geese which had been picked for the good
of the republic had chewed the cud of their poverty
in silence, but they spit venom in private among
themselves; and this new law to pluck them quite
naked brought affairs to a crisis. In matters of legislation, wealth and influence are every thing. But
where it comes to club-law, or a resort to the right of
the strongest, poverty always carries the day. The
poor plucked geese accordingly took back by force
what they had been deprived of by legislation, with
interest; and, finding after a little while that it was
necessary to have a head of some kind or other, unanimously recalled old king Gander to come and sleep
over them  again. He reigned long and happilypoised himself so nicely, by doing nothing, and keeping perfectly still, that he sat upright while the wheel
of fortune turned round under him, and the occasional rocking of his kingdom only made him sleep
the sounder."




174      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
MORAL.
"Leave the people to manage their private affairs
in their own way as much as possible, without the
interference of their rulers. The worst species of
tyranny is that of laws, making sudden and perpetual
changes in the value of property and the wages of
labour, thus placing every man's prosperity at the
mercy of others."
According to Alderman Janson, "Albany has the
merit, or the reputation, of having first called into
activity, if not into existence, a race of men perhaps
the most useful of any invented since the days of
Prometheus, who make it their sole business to enlighten the legislature: and especially on subjects of
finance, banking, and the like. They are called by
way of honourable distinction LOBBY-MEMBERS, because they form a sort of third estate, or legislative
chamber in the lobby. They are wonderful adepts at
log-rolling, and of such extraordinary powers of persuasion, that one of them has been known to lay a
wager that he would induce a member of the inner
house to reconsider his vote, in a private conference
of half an hour. Such is the wonderful disinterestedness of these patriots that they never call upon the
people to pay them three dollars a day, as the other
members do: on the contrary, they not only bear their
own expenses, but give great entertainments, and
sometimes, it is affirmed, help a brother-member of
the inner house along with a loan, a subscription,
and even a free gift- out of pure good-nature and
charity.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      175
"Their ingenuity is exercised for the benefit of the
good people of the state, in devising all sorts of projects, for making roads, digging canals, and sawing
wood; all which they will execute for nothing, provided the legislature will let them make their own
money out of rags, and, what is still better,'Loan
them the credit of the state,' for half a million or so.
It is astonishing what benefits these lobby-members
have conferred on this great state, filling it with companies for furnishing the people with every convenience, from bad money that won't pass, to coal that
won't burn   whereby people, instead of wasting
their resources in necessaries, may spend them in
superfluities. Moreover, they have reflected great
honour upon the state abroad, it being a common
saying, that whoever wants his scheme'log-rolled,' or
his project for the benefit of the community adopted
by a legislature, must send to Albany for a gang of
lobby-members. I thought I could do no less than
say what I have said in behalf of these calumniated
people, whom I intend to employ next winter, in getting an incorporation to clear Broadway of free gentlemen of colour, ladies' fashionable bonnets, and
those'infernal machines,' that whiz about, spirting
water, and engendering mud from  one end of the
street to the other, thereby making it unnavigable for
sober, decent people.
" In former times," continues the alderman, " Albany was a cheap place, where an honest man could
live on a small income, and bring up a large family
reputably, without running in debt, or getting a note
discounted. But domestic industry and the march of
public improvement have changed the face of things,




176     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
and altered the nature of man as well as of woman.
The father must live in style, whether he can afford it
or not -the daughters must dress in the extremity of
bad fashions, learn to dance, to paint, and to torture
the piano - and the sons must disdain the ignominious idea of being useful. The race of fine ladies and
fine gentlemen - (fine feathers make fine birds) - has
multiplied an hundred-fold, and we are credibly informed that the former have entered into a solemn
league and covenant, not to marry any man who cannot afford to live in a three-story house with folding
doors and marble mantel-pieces. The ancient Dutch
economy and the simple habits of Dutchmen have
given place to speculation and folly; and the possession of a moderate independence is sacrificed to the
idle anticipation of unbounded wealth. The race of
three-cornered cocked-hats is almost extinct   the reverend old-fashioned garments so becoming to age are
replaced by dandy coats —the good housewives no
longer toil or spin, (and yet I say unto thee, gentle
reader, that the gardens of the Euphrates were not
so party-coloured as one of these) - tavern-keepers
charge double, hack drivers treble, milliners quadruple-tailors have put off the modesty of their
natures —and the old market-women have grown
extortionate in cabbages and turnips. Nay, I have it
from the best authority, that an old burgher of the
ancient regime, was not long since ousted, by the force
of conjugal eloquence, out of a patriarchal coat,
which he had worn with honour and reputation upwards of forty years, and instigated by the devil to
put on a fashionable frock in its place."
We also learn from the manuscripts of Alderman




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     177
Janson of blessed memory, that, " In the year 1783,
on the 26th of August, one Baltus Blydenburgh,
on being called upon by Teunis Van Valer for
money which he owed him, declined paying it, on the
ground that it was not in his power. At first Teunis
thought he was joking, but, on being solemnly assured to the contrary, he threw up his hands and eyes
to heaven, and cried out in Dutch, " Well, den, the
world is certainly coming to an end! ", and departed
into the streets, where he told every body he met, that
Baltus Blydenburgh could not pay his debts, and
that the city was going to be swallowed up like Sodom
and Gomorrah. The story spread, and the panic with
it, insomuch that the good careful old wives packed up
all their petticoats and looking-glasses, and were preparing to depart to the other side of the river. Such
a thing as a man's not paying his debts had never
before been known in Albany, and beyond doubt the
city would have been entirely deserted, had it not
been for the arrival of a grandson of Philo Longfellow, from New York, who assured them there was
no danger of an earthquake; for, to his certain knowledge, if running in debt for more than people were
able to pay would produce earthquakes, there would
not be a city in the United States left standing.
Whereupon," continues Alderman Janson, "the citizens were mightily comforted, and went to work
getting in debt as fast as possible." He adds, that,
up to the year 1783, there was not a school-master
in Albany that could tell the meaning of the word
" bankrupt," and concludes with the following affecting apostrophe: " Alas! for honest old Albany! All
this comes of'domestic industry,''the march of
12




178      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
public improvement,' and the innovations of the posterity of Philo Longfellow!"
The grand canal ends at Albany, where there is
a capacious basin for canal-boats. "The canal and
locks," quoth the worthy alderman, " cost upwards of
eight millions of dollars, the locks, especially, having
been very expensive; whence the favourite song of
the people of New York state is:
I LOCK'D up all my treasure.'"
At Albany, wise travellers going to the Springs or
to Niagara generally quit the water, and take to landcarriage; since no man, who is either in a hurry, (as all
people who have nothing to do are), or who thinks it of
any importance to wear a head on his shoulders, would
venture on the canal. Festina lente is the maxim of
the canal-boats; they appear always in a hurry, and
yet go at a snail's pace. Four or five miles an hour
would do very well when people were not so busy
about nothing as they are now, but, body o' me!, fifteen miles an hour is indispensable to the new regime.
By this saving of time, a traveller may be safely said
to live twice as long as he could do before the march
of mind and the progress of public improvement. The
following are among the principal rules adopted by
very experienced travellers on leaving Albany by land.
Whenever you come to two turnpike-roads, branching off in different directions, you may be pretty certain
they both head to the same place, it being a maxim
with the friends of public improvement, that, as two
heads are better than one, (though one of them be a
calf's-head), so are two roads, even though both are




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     179
as bad as possible. In this country there are always
at least two nearest ways to a place of any consequence.
Never inquire your way of persons along the road,
but steer by the map, and then if you go wrong it
will be with a clear conscience.
Never ask the distance to any place of " one of the
posterity of Philo Longfellow," as Alderman Janson
calls them, for he will be sure to ask you if you are
going there, before he answers your question; nor of
the descendants of the Van Wezels, for, ten to one,
the first will tell you it is ten miles, and when you
have gone half a dozen of them, the next will apprise
you, after scratching his head in the manner of Scipio,
that it is nigh about twenty. You. will never get to
the end of your journey, if you believe these fellows.
Never stop at the tavern recommended by the tavern-keeper at whose house you stopped last. They
make a point of honour of not speaking ill of each
other, a practice which we would particularly recommend to the liberal professions.
When you enter a tavern, begin by acting the great
man -ask for a private room - call the landlord, his
wife, and all his household, as loud as you can - set
them all going, if possible, and find fault, not only
with every thing you see, but with every thing they
do. Examine the beds, and be particular in looking
under them, to see if there is no robber concealed
there. If there is any distinguished person living in
the neighbourhood, inquire about him particularly,
and regret you have not time to stay a day or two
with him. If you happen to be travelling in a hackcarriage, make the driver take off his number and put




180      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
up a coat of arms. Be sure to let the driver know
that you will send him about his business if he whispers a word of the matter, and be so particular in
looking to the horses, and inquiring if they have been
taken care of, that every body will take it for granted
they belong to you. As a good portion of the pleasure of travelling consists in passing for a person of
consequence, these directions will be found of value
in bringing about this desirable result.
When people stop by the side of the road to stare
at your equipage, be sure to loll carelessly back, and
take not the least notice of them. They will think
you a great man, certainly; whereas, if you look at
them complacently, they will only set you down as a
gentleman.
Be careful, when you go away, not to express the
least satisfaction to landlord or landlady at your entertainment, but let them see that you consider yourself ill-treated. They will take it for granted you
have been used to better at home.
If you travel in a stage-coach, look as dignified as
possible, and, if any body asks you a civil question,
give him an uncivil look in return, (as is the fashion
with the English quality-cockneys), unless the person
looks as if he might tweak your nose for assuming
airs.
Always, if possible, set out in a stage with a drunken
driver, because there is some reason to calculate he
will be sober in time. Whereas, if he sets out sober,
it is pretty certain he will be drunk all the rest of the
journey.
If you meet with a stranger who seems inclined
to be civil extempore, take it for granted he means to




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     181
pick your pocket or diddle you in some way or other.
Civility is too valuable an article to be given away
for nothing.
If you travel in a handsome equipage, no matter
whether your own or not, be careful not to enter a
town after dark, or leave it before the people are up;
else one half of them won't have an opportunity of
seeing you.
Always plump into the back seat of a stage-coach
without ceremony, whether there are females to be
accommodated or not. If any man happens to claim
the place you have taken, you can only get out again
you know, and look dignified.
Always be in a bad-humour when you are travelling. Nothing is so vulgar as perpetual cheerfulness.
It proves a person devoid of well-bred sensibility.
Touching the payment of bills, our friend Stephen
Griffin, Esq., assures us that, on the continent of
Europe, none but an English cockney-traveller, with
more money than wit, ever thinks of paying a bill
without deducting one half. Here, in this honest
country, it would be unreasonable in the traveller to
deduct more than one third, that being the usual excess along the roads, and at public places much frequented by people having a vocation to travelling for
pleasure. If, however, you wish to pass for a great
man, pay the bill without looking at it. We were
acquainted with a great broker, who always pursued
this plan, and the consequence was, that hostlers,
chambermaids, and landlords, one and all, looked
upon him as the greatest man in America, and nobody could be waited on, or accommodated at the




182      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
inns, until he was properly disposed of. There is, on
the contrary, a meritorious class of travellers, whose
business is to get away from hotels and public-houses
without paying at all; who drink their bottle of Bingham, Marston, or Billy Ludlow, every day, scot-free.
This requires considerable original genius, much
knowledge of the world,. and great power of face,
with a capacity of changing names.  Your alias is a
staunch friend to worthies of this class.  The best
school for this species of knowledge is the QuarterSessions, or the police-court, where a regular attendance of about a twelvemonth will hardly fail of initiating the scholar into all the mysteries of the noble
art of running in debt, an art than which there is not
one more vitally important to the rising generation.
Before we leave Albany, we would caution the
traveller against anticipating any thing extraordinary
in the way of eating at this place. In vain may he
sigh for canvas-backs, or terrapins. A turtle sometimes finds its way there, and now and then a cargo
of oysters; but in general there is little or nothing to
detain the enlightened, travelled gourmand. The fare
will do well enough for legislators and lobby-members, but, for a refined and cultivated palate, what can
be expected from a people who are said to follow the
antiquated maxim of the old song:
"I eat when I'm hungry, and drink when I'm dry" -
a maxim in itself so utterly vulgar and detestable,
that it could only have originated in the fancy of
some half-starved ballad-monger, who considered the
mere filling of his stomach as the perfection of human happiness.  Any fool can eat when he is hungry




THE NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.               183
and drink when he is dry, provided he can get any
thing to eat or drink; this is the bliss of a quadruped,
devoid of the reasoning faculty. But to enjoy the
delight of eating without appetite, to be able to bring
back the sated palate to a relish of some new dainty,
to reanimate the exhausted energies of the fainting
stomach, and waken it to new exstacies of fruition;
to  get dyspepsias, and  provoke  apoplexies, is the
privilege of that man alone, whose reason has been
refined, expanded, and perfected by travel and experience.  The happiest man, in  our opinion, we ever
knew, was a favoured being who possessed the furor
of eating in greater perfection than all the rest of humankind.  He would eat a whole turkey, a pair of
canvas-backs, and a quarter of mutton, at a sitting, and
finish with a half-bushel of peaches.  He was indeed
an example to his species; but he was too good for
this world, and was maliciously taken off by an unlucky bone, at a turtle feast at Hoboken, where he
excelled even  himself, and  died  a  blessed  martyr.
The only consolation remaining to his friends is, that
he was afterwards immortalized in the following lines
of the famous prize-poet, who happened to be at the
feast which proved so disastrous.
" Here lies a man whom flesh could ne'er withstand;
But bone, alas, did get the upper hand.
Death in the shape of turtle, venison, fowl,
Oft came and shook his scythe with ghastly scowl,
But hero-like he damned him for a bore,
And cried, undaunted,' waiter bring us more!'
At last death came in likeness of a bone,
And the pot-valiant champion was overthrown.
If death one single ounce of flesh had had,'Twould have been all over with him there, egad;
A broil of him our hungry friend had made,
And turtle-clubs been never more dismay'd
By the gaunt imp of chaos and old night,
Who spoils full many a glorious appetite."




184      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
" At Albany," as Alderman Janson observes, " ends
the proper sloop-navigation of the Hudson. It is true
they do manage to get them up as far as Troy, and
Lansingburgh, and even Waterford. But nature
never intended they should go farther than Albany.
It was in full confidence of this that the first colony
pitched upon Albany as the site of a great city, which
was destined in a happy hour to become the capital
of the state. Unfortunate adventurers!, they never
dreamed of the march of the human mind, and the
progress of public improvements; or of companies
incorporated for the performance of miracles. They
never surmised the possibility of a river like the Hudson, the master-piece of the Creator of the universe,
being improved by an act of the legislature; nor did
it ever enter into their matter-of-fact brains that the
posterity of Philo Longfellow would found a city as
it were right over their heads at Troy, and thus intercept the rafts coming down the river to Albany.
What a pity it is that people cannot see a little farther into millstones! What glorious speculations we
should all make! - except that, every body being
equally enlightened as to the future, there would be
no speculation at all, which would be a terrible thing
for those useful people who, having no money themselves, disinterestedly go about manufacturing excellent projects, to drain the pockets of those who have.
Money is, in truth, like an eel; it is easy to catch it,
but to hold it fast afterwards is rather a difficult matter. And here I am reminded of the fate of an honest
codger of my acquaintance, who had become rich by
a long course of industry and economy, and who at
the age of forty-five set himself down in a smart,




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      185
growing town, not a hundred miles from  I forget
where, to enjoy the life of a gentleman.
" Martin Forbush, that was his name, lived a whole
year in his dignified retirement, at the end of which
he became rather dyspeptic, and began to get out of
humour with the life of a gentleman.  Of all the castles ever built in the air, the castle of indolence is the
worst. Ease'is not to be bought with wampum, or
paper-money,' as Horace says; a man must have
some employment, or pursuit-or at least a hobbyhorse  or he can never be contented on earth. To
one who has been all his life making money, the mere
enjoyment of his wealth is not worth a fig. Even the
great good, eating, has its limits. To be sure, nothing is wanting to the happiness of a rich man but
that his appetite should increase with his means of
indulging it. But, alas!, it would seem that every
pleasure in life is saddled with its penalty, and that
the gratification of the senses carries with it the elements of its own punishment. The very food we
devour rises up in judgment against us. The turtle
is revenged by apoplexy, dyspepsia, epilepsy, and catalepsy. Enough. The subject is too heart-rending.
" While honest Martin was thus dying by inches,
of a gentleman's life, and pining away both corporeally and mentally under the incubus of idleness, as
good luck would have it, a stirring, long-headed, ingenious, speculative, poor devil, came to settle in the
town, which, as nature had done little or nothing for
it, was the finest place that could be for public improvements of all kinds. He was inexhaustible in
plans for laying out capital to the greatest advantage;
he never saw a river that he could not make naviga



186     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
ble, a field that he could not make produce four-fold,
or a fall of three feet perpendicular that was not the
fairest site in the world for mills and manufactories.
All he wanted was money, and that he contrived to
make others supply, which was but reasonable. It
would have been too much for him to furnish both
the dollars and the wit.
"The first thing such a public-spirited person does,
on locating himself among the people whom he has
come to devour, is to find me out all those snug fellows, who have ready money in their purses and dirt
to their boots - men that have a few thousands lying
by them, or stock that they can turn at once into
cash, or land that they can mortgage for a good
round sum. Having smelled out his game, our advocate for public improvement takes every opportunity
of pointing out capital speculations, and hinting that
if he only had a few thousands to spare, he could
double them in the course of two or three years. Martin pricked up his ears. He longed, past all longing,
to be turning a penny to advantage. It would give a
zest to his life; it would employ his time, which he
did not know what to do with. In short, he listened
and was overcome. He determined to immortalize
his name as a great public benefactor, and double his
money at the same time.
" There was a river about a hundred yards wide,
running close to the skirts of the town, which the
apostle of public improvements assured Martin was
the finest place for a bridge that was ever seen. It
seemed to be made on purpose. There was not the
least doubt but it would yield in tolls from thirty to
fifty per cent on the first cost. Nothing was want



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      187
ing but legislative authority for this great work. He
would go to Albany, next session, and get an act
passed for that purpose, if he only had the means;
but just now he was a little short, one of his principal
debtors having disappointed him.
" Honest Martin, rather than miss such a capital
speculation, agreed to advance the needful, and, at a
proper time, the redoubtable Timothy Starveling, or
Starling, as he called himself, set out upon his mission
to the paradise of lobby-members.  Timothy took
lodgings at the first hotel, kept open house, treated
most nobly with honest Martin Forbush's cash, and
wound himself into the confidence of two senators
and five members. But before the matter was decided
the money was run out, and therefore Timothy Starveling wrote a most mysterious letter to Martin, hinting
at extraordinary expenses; accommodating members
with loans-small matters, that told in the end; conciliating influential people; oiling the wheels; and
heaven knows what else. Martin understood not one
word of all this, but, rather than lose his money and his
project, he sent his agent a fresh supply of cash. The
bridge, notwithstanding, stuck not a little by the way,
owing to the opposition of some who had not been
properly enlightened on the subject; but, by dint of
log-rolli)g, it floundered through at last. Timothy
got it tacked to a Lombard and a steam-saw-mill,
and the business was accomplished. He then, upon
the strength of his charter, bought a carriage and
horses, and rode home in style.
" Well, they set to work, and the bridge was built
with Martin's money. But it brought him in no tolls,
owing to the circumstance of there being no road at




188     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the end of it. Martin scratched his head; but Timothy was nowise dismayed. All they had to do was
to make a turnpike-road, from the end of the bridge
to the next town, which was actually laid out, though
not actually built, and there would be plenty of tolls.' Roads make travellers,' quoth Timothy, and Martin
believed it. Another act of the legislature became
necessary, and another mission for Timothy. The
opposition was, however, much more difficult to overcome than on the former occasion, owing to an illnatured definition given by a country member, to wit:'A turnpike-bill is a law to enable the few to tax the
many, for a bad road kept in bad repair.' It cost
Martin a pretty penny to get permission for a road,
and it cost him a prettier penny still to make it.
However, made it was, at last. Timothy superintended, and Martin paid. The tolls were not sufficient
to hire an old woman for opening the gates. Few
people were tempted by their occasions to pass that
way, and those few forded the river, it being shallow,
and saved their coppers. 
" But those who think Master Timothy Starveling
was at his wit's end here, reckon without their host.
You might as well catch a cat asleep, as Timothy at
a nonplus.' We'll petition for an act to deepen the
river, and thus kill two birds with one stone. By improving the navigation we shall bring vast quantities
of produce down, which will make the town the grand
emporium of this part of the country, and at the same
time so deepen the channel that it will not be fordable.' Martin thought the idea prodigious, and the
same game was played a third time by Timothy at
Albany. They improved the navigation of the river




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      189
at no small cost, by deepening the channel. But rivers
are unmanageable commodities.  As fast as they
deepened it filled up again, and one heavy rain deposited more mud and sand than could be removed in a
year. In short, before the river became navigable,
or the road and bridge brought in their thirty to fifty
per cent., the purse of Martin Forbush ceased to jingle
at the touch. It was as empty as my pocket.
"One day, when Master Timothy Starveling came
to Martin for a small trifle to complete the project,
the latter worthy gentleman crawled forth with his
eyebrows elevated, his forehead wrinkled, and his
shoulders almost as high as his head; and, turning
his breeches-pockets insides out, looked with most
rueful significance at the great advocate of public
improvements.'Pooh,' said the former,'there is a
remedy for all things, even for an empty pocket; look
here,' (pulling out the charter for the bridge),'I've
got an iron in the fire yet, I thank you.' Whereupon
he showed Martin a clause in the act, which, with a
very little stretching and twisting, might be fairly interpreted into a privilege for banking. Martin was
now pretty desperate, and caught at the idea. They
got together all the paupers of the town, who subscribed their thousands and tens of thousands; gave
their notes as security for the payment of their subscriptions; and chose Martin, president, and Timothy,
cashier. Then, announcing to an astonished world,
which wondered where the money came from, that
the stock was all'paid in, or secured to be paid,' they
proceeded to the business of issuing notes, without
taking their redemption into account. For a while
they went on prosperously. There will always be




190     THE NEW MIRROR FOR- TRAVELLERS.
found a sufficient number of honest fools in every
community for rogues to work upon, and the good
people were rejoiced in their hearts, to find money so
plenty. But, in an evil hour, there appeared at the
bank of Diddledum, a spruce young fellow in boots
and spurs, with a bundle of bank-notes, who announced himself as the cashier of the neighbouring
bank, of Fiddledum, and demanded the payment of
his bundle in specie. There never was, nor was there
now, nor ever would have been, a dollar of specie in
the bank of Diddledum. This ungentlemanly and
malicious run, being what no one, not even Timothy
Starveling, Esquire, cashier, had ever dreamed of, the
spruce young gentleman in boots and spurs was civilly
requested to wait till they could have a meeting of
the directors. But the young gentleman forthwith
went to a notary and got all the notes protested;
after which he placed them in the hands of a lawyer,
who commenced a suit on each of them, in order to
save expense. The spruce young gentleman in boots
and spurs then departed for the happy village, which
had grown so fast under the refreshing auspices of
the bank of Fiddledum, that every body said it would
soon outgrow itself. There were sixty new houses,
three great hotels, and six distilleries, all built by men
who were not worth a groat. How blessed is papermoney, how blessed its legitimate offspring, public
improvements!
"But, blessed as it is, it proved the downfall of
Timothy Starveling, Esquire, cashier of the bank
of Diddledum. That night, the bank closed its doors,
to open no more, and the ingenious Timothy, as was
supposed, in attempting to cross the river on horse



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      191
back, to avoid the' public sentiment,' was swept away
by the stream, which had been swelled to a torrent
by heavy rains, and never appeared again. At least,
his hat was found, several miles down the river; but
himself and his horse could never be discovered, although the' Morgan Committee' took up the affair.
"Martin Forbush was stripped of all his hard earnings. He surrendered his bridge, his road, and his
navigation-improvements to his creditors - and much
good did it do them. He went back to his old shop,
to begin the world anew. In process of time he became once more an independent man. But he never
again turned gentleman, and consequently never got
the dyspepsia. He never burnt his fingers afterwards
with public improvements, and nobody could ever
persuade him to make a speculation. He even forgave
Timothy Starveling, and was wont to say,'Plague
take him! - he robbed me of all my money, but then
he cured me of the blue devils.'"
We would advise the fashionable tourist, (and to
none other is this work addressed), who of course is
hurrying directly to the Springs, to go by the way of
the Cohoes and Waterford, and as far as possible to
hug the bank of the Hudson.  " Leaving Albany,"
says Alderman Janson, "you come upon those rich
flats, that present a soft Arcadian scene, beautified
with all the products of nature and industrious man.
The meadows are peopled with luxurious Dutch cattle,
resting in the shade of spreading elms that dot the
landscape here and there. The fields of yellow wheat
just ripening in the sunny month of July, the acres of
stately corn with its dark green leaves, flaunting like
ribbons about the brow of youth —bounded on one




192     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
side by the swelling, rolling hills, on the other by the
glassy river, - all together make a scene worthy of
the golden age, and of the simple virtuous patriarchs
who yet inhabit there, smoking their pipes, and talking Dutch, in spite of the changes of fashion, and the
vagaries of inflated vanity, which instil into the hearts
of the foolish the belief, that alteration is improvement, and that one generation of men is wiser than
another. It is thus that youth laughs at age, and that
the forward urchin, who knows nothing of the world
but the vices and follies of a boy, thinks himself wiser
than his grandfather of fourscore."
Infandum, regina — we despise Latin scraps, ever
since the publication of the Dictionary of Quotations.
But who has not heard of Troy? - not that famous
city which Jacob Bryant maintained never had an
existence, although it has made more noise in the
world than the greatest matter-of-fact cities extantnot the city which thousands of travellers have gone
to see, and come away, without seeing —not the city
which sustained a ten years' siege, and was at last
taken by a wooden horse;- no, verily, but the indubitable city of Troy, on the banks of the Hudson,
which is worth three thousand beggarly Scamanders,
and six thousand Hellesponts?  We are aware that
this excellent town, which contains at this moment
Helens enough to set the whole world on fire, is pronounced by that great geographer and traveller, Lieutenant De Roos, to be in New England. Perish the
thought! New England never had such a town to its
back; one so full of enterprising people, continually
plotting against the repose of Dame Nature. Alexander once seriously contemplated cutting Mount




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.            193
Athos into a statue; King Stephanus Bombastes lost
his wits with the idea of making Bohemia a maritime
power -  whence it was, that Corporal Trim  very
properly called him,' This unfortunate king of Bohemia'; and a great advocate of public improvements
is now  so unluckily mad on the subject, that he
fancies himself a great chip, floating in all weathers
on the great northern canal. But all these are nothing to the Trojans, who, it is said, seriously contemplate a canal, parallel with the Hudson, from Troy to
New York, if they can only get the legislature to pass
an act against its freezing. Alas! poor river gods!
what will become of them?  As sings the famous
prize-poet, who, we hereby solemnly affirm, in our
opinion deserves to have his whiskers curled on the
very pinnacle of Parnassus, -
" Noah be hang'd, and all his race accursed,
Who in sea-brine did pickle timber first! "
He means to say, that your salt-water rivers are no
longer to be tolerated, and ought to be forthwith legislated out of existence, and doomed to oblivion. It is
a great thing to discover what your modern poets
would be at.  They are the true "children of mist."
But, to continue our quotation:
" 0 Trojan Greeks!, who dwell at Ida's foot,
Pull up this crying evil by the root;
Rouse in the mighty majesty of mind,
Pull up your mighty breeches tight behind,
Then stretch the red right arm from shore to shore,
And swear that rivers shall endure no more  "
"It is almost worth while," says Alderman Janson,
"to sacrifice a few hours of the delights of the Springs,
for the purpose of ascending Mount Ida, and seeing
13




194      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the romantic little cascade, a capital place for manufactories. In the opinion of some people, this is all
that water-falls are good for nowadays. I would
describe it, but for fear of drawing the attention of
some prowling villain, who would perhaps come and
build a cotton-mill, and set all the pretty little rosycheeked Helens of Troy tending spinning-jennies,
from sunrise to sunset, and long after, at a shilling a
day, instead of leaving them to the enjoyment of the
few hours of rest and careless hilarity which God in
his wisdom hath appropriated to the miserable packhorses of this age of improvements.  The domestic
industry of females is at home, by the fireside, in the
society of their families, surrounded and protected by
their household gods; not in woollen and cotton mills,
herded together by hundreds, and toiling without intermission at the everlasting spinning-jenny, without
leisure to cultivate the domestic virtues, or opportunity
for mental improvement.  Of all the blockheads this
side of the moon, in my opinion the farmers of these
United States are the greatest, considering the pains
taken by the members of Congress and others to enlighten them. What in the name of all the thicksculled wiseacres, past, present and to come, do they
want of a'woollen bill,' and what do the blockheads
expect from getting perhaps a penny or two more a
pound for their wool, except to pay twice as much a
yard for the cloth which is made out of it?  Why
don't they learn wisdom from their own sheep?
" A cunning old fox one day put his head through
the bars of a sheepfold, and addressed the flock as
follows:' Gentlemen, I have a proposition to make,
greatly to your advantage; I'll give you a penny a




THE NEW  MIRROR  FOR TRAVELLERS.                   195
pound more for your wool (if you'll only let me shear
you) one  of these  days, provided  meantime  you'll
pay me a dollar more a yard for the cloth I make out
of it.'  Whereupon  an  old ram   of some experience
cried'Baah!', and all the rest of the sheep followed
his example."
In speaking of Troy, Alderman Janson, who was a
great hunter of manuscripts, states that he saw there
a curious poem, written by a schoolmaster of Troy
about forty years ago, in imitation of Homer's Batrachomyomachia.
As a specimen, the worthy alderman has copied the
invocation, which we insert, with a view of indicating
the corruption of the public press at that period. We
congratulate our readers at the same time on the improvement which  the march  of mind  hath  brought
about in this as well as every thing else.
" Thee we invoke, O sacred nine! -
No, not the sacred nine, but thee,
The youngest sister of the nine, unknown in ancient song! -
Thee, the TENTH MUSE!, begot, as legends tell,
By printer's devil on a famous shrew
(Who had kill'd nine husbands with eternal clacking,)
Up in a garret high, between two newspapers,
One Jackson t'other Adams.
There thou didst learn thy alphabet,'Mid billingsgate most dire;
Loud blustering lies, and whispered calumnies,
Were thy first lessons in the art of speech;
Next, impudence became thy dry-nurse,
And did teach thy genius apt, to mouth with high pretence
Of art and literature, science profound,
And taste preeminent, stol'n from the man in the moon,
Or God knows where. There thou didst learn
To judge by virtue of thine ignorance;
To criticise a classic in false grammar,
And in bad English all the world defy.
There too, as stories go, thou didst become
A connoisseur in Flemish and Italian schools,




196         THE NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Albeit thou never sawest a picture in thy life,
Save on a sign-post at a tavern door;
Able to scan, with taste infallible,
A bust or statue, by approved rules,
Gathered fiom frequent contemplation deep
Of barbers' blocks, and naked blackamoors,
Stuck up by wi   wicked wights to lure our youth
To shave their beards, and chew tobacco - pah!
There too, thou learn'dst to quaff oblivion's bowl,
Filled to the brim with foaming printers' ink;
To forget to-morrow what the day before
Thou sworest was gospel; to say, unsay,
And praise a man one hour, whom in the next
Thou didst consign to ignominious shame,
In phrase most trim and delicate, though stolen
From an old fish-wife, drunk, and in a passion.
There too, amid the din of politics and lies,
Thou learn'dst to be a judge inflexible
Of public virtue and of private worth;
To moot nice points of morals; and decide
On things obscure, that for long ages past
Have puzzled all mankind, and dried the brains
Of luckless sages to the very bottom,
Bare as mud-puddles in a six months' drought.
" Hail MUSE THE TENTH, worth all the other nine!
Presiding genius of our liberties,
We hail THEE on our knees, and humbly beg,
Thou'lt not forget who'twas, in modern days,
First call'd thee from oblivion, and install'd thee
Goddess of men, whom gods and men do fear."
The alderman boasts that the poem is soon to be
published simultaneously in five different languages,
in five different countries, by five different booksellers,
with five puffs of five first-rate journals in each language.  We  think  the  friends  of  the  author had
better advise him to leave out the invocation.
"There is a rock," continues the worthy alderman,
in great wrath, " on Mount Ida, all covered with diamonds, better than you can make of charcoal, where
I would  recommend  the ladies to  stop, and  supply




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      197
themselves for the Springs, instead of flaunting about
in chemical jewels, as is the fashion now. And here
I must beg leave to digress a little, to offer my testimony against the progress of knowledge, which, when
accompanied by a corresponding progress in vice and
dishonesty, is a curse rather than a blessing. If there
is a thorough-going rascal and cheat in this world,
it is chemistry, who is perpetually practising deceptions upon mankind. The scoundrel can imitate, or
disguise, every thing. He can make a piece of glass
into diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and topazes, so that
none but a jeweller, who is commonly as great a
rogue as himself, can detect them. He can make excellent beer, without either malt or hops; and, what is
worthy of remark, it will not poison a man half as
soon as arsenic or copperas. He can make tea out
of turnip-tops, so as to deceive a China merchant; he
can make gas out of coal-cinders, and money out of
gas; he can extract the red ink out of a check, and
leave the black ink untouched; he can change a banknote of one dollar into one of a hundred; he can
adulterate confectionery, and poison half mankind
without their being a whit the wiser, except they learn
something after death. In short, it is my humble
opinion that, if the worthy revisers of our laws had
decreed to hang every professor of chemistry, except
such as could demonstrate their entire ignorance of
the science and would put their scholars to learning
trades, it would prevent the ladies from wearing false
jewels, and add greatly to the honesty of the rising
generation. It is bad enough for women to wear
false curls, false faces, and false hearts, without deceiving us with false jewels. One can bear the disap



198      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
pointment in the temper and the complexion, but to
be taken in by the diamonds is heart-breaking."
" Troy," according to Alderman Janson, " is already
accommodated with a bank or two, without which our
poor little helpless villages would be like children without nurses. But people are never content in this
world, notwithstanding the march of mind and the
progress of public improvement, and the Trojans are
at this moment petitioning the legislature for another
bank, utterly forgetful of the old proverb that too
much of a good thing is good-for-nothing. Were I
to define a legislature of the present approved fashion,
I would say, it was a public body exclusively occupied
with private business; for, in truth, were we to look
closely at their proceedings, we should find almost all
of them spending the whole of their time in passing
bills for banks, incorporating companies for the most
frivolous purposes, mending old charters, and making
new ones. In the mean while, the general interests
of the people are neglected, and laws affecting the
whole community either not passed at all, or passed
so full of imperfections that it is more trouble to mend
them afterwards than to make new ones. A plague
on this busy spirit which is called the spirit of improvement, but which is nothing more than an impertinent disposition to meddle with the concerns of other
people, and so substitute our own theoretical notions
in place of the practical experience of others. Why
not,' let very well alone'?
" I once had two near neighbours, who lived in a
couple of old-fashioned Dutch houses, which, though
they made no great figure without, were very snug
and comfortable within, and accorded very well with




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     199
the circumstances of the owners, which were but
moderate. One of the houses had sunk a few inches
at one of the corners, in consequence of some defect
in the foundation; but this had happened twenty
years before, and the building had ever since remained
perfectly stable, being reckoned not the least injured,
or the worse for this little eccentricity of shape. The
other house had some trifling defect in the chimney,
which, although it might as well not have been there,
was of no serious importance. Both occupants lived
perfectly content, and, if a wish would have removed
these imperfections, they would hardly have taken the
trouble to utter it.
" In process of time, however, the spirit of improvement got into our part of the town, and some great
little busybody suggested, to the owners of the two
houses, the perfect ease with which the sunken corner
and the crooked chimney might be remedied at a
trifling expense. At first, they wisely shook their
heads; but the advice was repeated every day, and
every-body knows that the perpetual repetition of the
same thing is like the dropping of water-it will
wear away a stone at last. My two neighbours at
length began to talk over the matter seriously together,
and one day came to consult me.'Let very well
alone,' said I; and they went away, according to custom, to do exactly contrary to the advice they came to
solicit. The owner of the house with the sunken corner, and he of the crooked chimney, the next day went
to work under the direction of the disciple of public
improvements, to remedy these mortal annoyances
which they had borne for more than twenty years with
the most perfect unconcern. One got a great jack



200      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
screw under the delinquent corner; the other raised a
mighty beam against his chimney; and to work they
went, screwing and pushing with a vengeance. In
less than fifteen minutes, the crooked chimney, being
stubborn with age, and withal somewhat infirm, instead of quietly returning to the perpendicular, broke
short off, and falling through the roof, upon the garret
floor, carried that with it, and the whole mass stopped
not to rest, till it found solid bottom in the cellar. It
was well that the dame and all the children were out
of doors, witnessing the progress of the experiment.
Here was an honest, comfortable little Dutch house,
sacrificed to the improvement of a crooked chimney.
" The man of the sunken corner succeeded, to his
utter satisfaction, in placing the four angles on a
level, and was delighted with his improvement; until,
going into his house, he beheld with dismay, that the
shock given to the old edifice, and the disturbance of
its various parts which had been cemented by time
into one solid mass, had cracked his walls so that they
looked like a fish-net, broken the window-sills, moved
the ends of the beams in their ancient resting-places,
and, in short, wrecked the whole establishment. It
was become like a sieve, and, the next time it rained,
the whole family came out like drowned rats. There
was not a dry square foot in the house, nor a dry
thread on its occupants.
" The poor man set himself to work to remedy
these inconveniences, and from time to time laid out
a great deal of money, in stopping crannies, and setting the dislocated limbs. But all would not dothe whole frame of the edifice had been shaken to its
centre by the disturbance of its parts. There was no




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     201
mending it; and nothing was left but to pull it down,
and build a new one, with all the modern improvements.  The lord of the crooked chimney also resolved to do the same. But the man who begins to
dig a new cellar very often commences undermining
his own prosperity. The houses were at last finished,
and very fine houses they were-but they did not
belong to the owners. They were mortgaged for
more than half they were worth, and, in process of
time money growing very scarce, they were sold for
just enough to satisfy the creditors. The end of all
was, that my good neighbours had exchanged the
little houses, with the sunken corner and crooked
chimney, for an immense mansion, without walls or
chimney. They were literally turned out of doors.' I wish we had let very well alone,' said they to me,
as they departed to the wilderness, to begin the world
anew."  Truly, mine uncle, the worthy alderman, was
at least three thousand years behind the spirit of the
age. Is it not better to live in fine houses belonging
to other people, than in little old-fashioned ones of
our own? We wish the alderman were alive to answer this question.
If the traveller, in his impatience to arrive at the
Springs, thinks we get on too slowly, let him leave
us and our book behind him, and take the consequences. Does he think we are a high-pressure
steam-boat, to travel fifteen miles an hour without
stopping a moment to look round and consider? Or,
is he so desperately unlettered and behindhand with
the spirit of the age, as to entertain, in the barren
waste of his mind, the notion that the business of
book-making is like that of brick-making, a plain,




202      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
straightforward handicraft affair, wherein a man has
nothing to do but mind his own business?  Belike
he does not know that, to make a book, it is necessary
to tell all that other people have told before - to expand the little grains of gold-dust, which other painstaking authors have picked up with infinite labour,
till, like the gold-beater, he makes them cover the
leaves of a whole folio. Perhaps he has never heard
of Johannes Secundus, who spun a whole volume of
poetry out of a kiss - nor of the ever-to-be-renowned
and never-to-be-forgotten writer, who divided the half
of an idea into six parts, and manufactured a volume
out of each portion- nor of the still-greater genius,
whom we place on the tip of the highest hair in the
head of Milton, Shakspeare, Cervantes, and Voltaire,
who composed sixteen works without any idea at all.
Preserve us - any fool may write with his head full
of ideas; but no one knows the troubles of an author
who is obliged to pick up his crumbs by the way-side
-to diverge to the right and to the left -to levy
contributions upon every thing and every-body he
meets -to skim the froth of wit, and dip up the sediment of wisdom - to repeat the same thing in a hundred different ways, and disguise it each time in such
a manner that the most inquisitive blue-stocking cannot detect it, even with the aid of her spectacles and
the reviewers. This — this is travail, this is mighty
toil; and it is the industrious writers of such books
that should be rewarded with money and immortality, since the labourer is always worthy of his hire.
He works premeditatingly, and, as it were, with malice aforethought; he makes, by dint of hard and
long exertion, the most meagre soil productive, while




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       203
your boasted genius merely scratches the surface of
the rich alluvium, and, behold!, the product is a hundred-fold. Therefore it is, we say again, and repeat
it three hundred times, that if the travelling reader is
not willing to wait with us till we have finished descanting on the Trojans, let him go on and welcome.
We wash our hands of him, and there is an end of
the matter.
Nobody knows the difficulty under which we unfortunate authors labour in writing a book, to avoid
running our heads against the rascally ancients, or the
still more rascally moderns, who got the start of us,
and stole all our ideas before they came down to posterity. They have not left us a single original idea
to our backs, but have swallowed up every thing with
a most insatiable appetite; insomuch that the writers
of the present day are, for the most part, obliged to
become absurd or unintelligible, in order to strike out
a miserable, half-starved novelty, which perishes peradventure at the end of a year, in spite of the drynursing and stall-feeding of diurnal puffers. The art
of printing has ruined literature, and destroyed the
value of learning. Before this mischievous invention,
which is justly ascribed to the devil, a manuscript
was a treasure, and the writer of it a phenomenon.
It was read at the Olympic games, and the author
was crowned with bays and considered on a footing
with the victors in the chariot races and boxing
matches. Then, a manuscript was a bonne-bouche
for epicures on high days and holidays; now, a book
is no more of a rarity than bacon and greens in Virginia, and the clodhopper of this country returns from
his daily labours to a newspaper, as to his usual




204      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
supper-fare. Then, too, the fortunate man who got
possession. of the precious papyrus or the invaluable
parchment roll, had it all to himself, and could borrow
what he pleased, without being called upon to pay the
penalty of being cut up in a review. There was no
such thing as plagiarism, at least there was no finding
it out, which is quite synonymous. Even in later
days, after the pernicious and diabolical art of multiplying books to infinity prevailed, we find, that a
criminal who could read might plead the benefit of
clergy, and, if it was decided, "legit ut clericus," he
was only burnt in the hand, instead of being hanged.
But now, in good faith, if (I say not every man who
can read, but) every man who has written a book,
were to escape hanging, Jack Ketch would hold a
sinecure, and there would be great robbing of the gallows. It is, without doubt, greatly to be lamented,
that the practice of burning books by the hands of
the common hangman and cutting off the ears of their
authors is no longer in fashion. In this way the
world got rid of some of these crying nuisances, and
many were thereby discouraged from inflicting any
more of them upon their unfortunate fellow-creatures.
But now, forsooth, such is the license allowed or
claimed, that the least morsel of a man will set him
down pen in hand, intermeddle with the deepest matters, run away with a subject he knows not what to
do with when he has got it, and thereby prevent some
great scholar from thereafter doing it justice. Verily,
little men should never meddle with great matters, as
the fable aptly advises.
A cunning, dexterous angler once threw his line
into a deep clear stream, where he waited patiently




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       205
and watchfully, till he saw a fine trout slowly come
forth from his profound recess under the cool shady
bank, and float cautiously towards the bait. But,
just as he was about swallowing it, a little rascally
minnow, not as long as my finger, darted before him,
took hold of the hook, and skirred away with it to
the shallowest part of the brook. The trout swam
slowly back to his retreat, and the angler, pulling up
the minnow and taking it in his hand, exclaimed:
"Thou art so small and contemptible, that I would
let thee go again, were it not that thy impertinent
meddling lost me.a fine trout." So saying, he cast
it indignantly on the sand, where it perished miserably in the noontide sun.
It is refreshing to see the advances made in dress,
and other evidences of the " march of mind, and the
progress of public improvement," in Troy, and in all
our little villages and thriving towns. Every church
is as fine as a fiddle on Sundays, and what it wants in
heads it makes up in hats. The fashions of New
York are adopted with as much facility in a country
village as the dress of a Parisian opera-dancer is imitated in New York, and the same rules are followed
in adapting them to the figure and person. If, for
instance, a belle is about six feet high, she is content
with a hat six feet in circumference, with the contents of one milliner's shop on it, by way of ornament.
But if she is but four feet one, it is agreeable to the
fashionable rules of proportion to makeup in hat for
the deficiency in height. She must have a hat twice
as large as the lady of six feet, and two milliners'
shops at least to ornament its vast expanse. This is
according to the law of nature, which bestows the




206     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
largest tops on the lowest trees, and gives to the cabbage a head bigger than that of a sunflower. Some
egregious cynics will have it, that a lady ought to
wear a hat somewhat in reference to the size of the
town she inhabits, and never one larger than the town
itself, as we are informed has been the case in two or
three instances. It is observed that the toadstoolthe only thing in nature whose proportions resemble
a fashionable woman of the present dynasty —never
spreads its umbrella beyond the stump which it proceeds from, and it is argued that this rule should
govern a lady's bonnet. But it is difficult to persuade
the sex to adopt the old-fashioned notions about taste
and proportion, which have been entirely superseded
by the march of mind and the progress of public improvement. And so much the better. A woman who
never changes, even from bad to worse, is no better
than a rusty weathercock, which never shows which
way the wind blows. Nevertheless people, and particularly women and bantams, ought never to carry
their heads too high, as the following pregnant example showeth.
One day, a little bantam-cock, with a high topknot,
who was exceedingly vain because he had so many
feathers to his legs that he could hardly walk, seeing
a goose duck her head in passing under a bar at
least six feet high, thus accosted her: " Why, thou
miserable, bare-legged caitiff! thou shovel-nosed, webfooted, pigeon-toed scavenger of the highways! thou
fool of three elements! not content with ignominiously
crawling under a fence, thou must even nod thy empty
pate, by way of confessing thy inferiority. Behold
how we bantams do these things! "  So saying, with




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     207
a great deal of puffing and fluttering, with the help
of his bill, he managed to gain the top of the fence,
where he clapped his wings, and was just on the
point of crowing in triumph, when a great hawk, that
was sailing over his head, pounced down on him, and,
seizing him by the topknot, carried him off without
ceremony. The goose, cocking her eye, and taking a
side view of the affair, significantly shook her feathers,
and, the next time she passed under a bar, bowed her
head lower than ever.
The march of mind and progress of public improvement in the country towns and villages appears, moreover, in the great progress made in good eating, and
other elegant luxuries. The great republican patent
of nobility, dyspepsy, is almost as common in these,
as in New York, where our valet, a gentleman of
colour, is grievously afflicted with it, and has taken
to white mustard-seed. We have eaten such dinners
among the burghers of Troy as would have made
old Homer's mouth water, could he have seen them.
They actually emulated those of a first-rate broker,
who does not owe above twice as much as he ever
expects to pay, and can therefore afford to be liberal.
This giving of good dinners at the expense of other
people is a capital expedient in economy, particularly
deserving of imitation. What can be more delightful
than to see our companions enjoying themselves in
the most glorious of all sublunary delights, at the
expense of any body that will lend us money? - thus
making friends, and gaining immortal glory as a generous fellow, without a penny of one's own in pocket!
People are always so grateful too for good dinners,
insomuch that we have known a "damned liberal,




208      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
open-hearted fellow," as he was called, who had ruined
three or four of his acquaintances, by giving fine banquets at their cost, that was actually invited afterwards,
three times, to take potluck with some of his stall-fed
friends, who had grown fat upon him. We remember
being at one of this bountiful gentleman's treats, when
the following toast was drunk with great applause,
while he was called out by an impertinent creditor:
"Long live our hospitable entertainer! - if he don't
outlive his money."  On the subject of these village
feasts and sylvan luxuries, see Spafford's Gazetteer,*
for many honest and excellent remarks. As a fellowlabourer in enlightening travellers, we heartily and
seriously recommend his work to the public patronage.
Let it not be understood that we singled out Troy
as particularly distinguished in these elegant extravagances.  Even if it were, the inhabitants deserve no
credit above their neighbours, seeing there are two or
three banks in the town;- and what would be the
use of banks, if people did not spend their money
faster than they earn it?
It will hardly be worth the traveller's while to visit
Troy, except to partake of these good dinners; for,
after reading our book, he will know more about it
than he could learn in ten visits, and, being now so
near the focus of all worldly delights, the Springs,
every moment becomes precious.  Let him therefore
keep on the west side of the river, crossing the Mohawk just below the Cohoes Falls, of which he will
have a fine view from the bridge. Here he may stop
fifteen minutes to look at the locks which connect the
[* Horatio Gates Spafford, LL.D., published " A Gazetteer of the State
of New York ", in 1824.]




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      209
great canal with the Hudson, as a flight of steps
connects the upper and lower stories of a house.
" Without doubt," observes our old-fashioned friend,
Alderman Janson, whom we quote as the great apostle
of antediluvian notions, "without doubt, canals and
locks are good things in moderation; but, somehow
or other, I think I have a prejudice in favour of rivers,
where they are to be had; and where they are not,
people may as well make up their minds to do without them. In sober truth, it is my firm opinion, (and
I don't care whether any body agrees with me or
not), that the great operation of a canal is, merely
to concentrate on its line, and within its immediate
influence, that wealth, population, and business,
which, if let alone, would diffuse themselves naturally,
equally, and beneficially through every vein and artery
of the country. The benefits of a canal are confined
to a certain distance, while all beyond is actually injured, although nobody can escape paying his proportion of the expenses of its construction."
"I was once," continues the alderman, "a little
mad myself in the canal way, like most people, and
actually made a pilgrimage in a canal-boat all the
way to Buffalo. I found every-body along the sides
of the canal delighted with the vast public benefits of
these contrivances; they could sell the product of
their lands, and the lands themselves, for twice or
thrice as much as formerly. I rubbed my hands with
great satisfaction, and was more in love with canals
than ever. Returning, I diverged from the line of the
canal, into some of the more remote counties, and
found all the people scratching their heads.' What is
the matter, good people all, of every sort?  What
14




210      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
can you want, now that the great canal is finished?'' The devil take the great canal,' cried all with one
voice:'every body is mad to go and settle on the
canal.''To be sure they are, my good friends and
fellow-citizens, and that is the beauty of a canal; it
raises the price of land, within a certain distance, to
double what it was before.''Yes, and it lowers the
price of land not within a certain distance in an equal,
if not greater, proportion. Nobody thinks of coming
here to settle now- they are all for the canal.' Oho,
thought I; then a canal has two sides, as well as two
ends."
The alderman then goes on to moralize on the difficulty of increasing the actual quantity of good in
this world -maintaining that what is gained in one
place is lost in another; that public improvements
are, for the most part, private speculations; and that
the accumulation of wealth in a particular tract of
country, or in the hands of a small portion of a community, is always at the expense of the larger portions of each, and renders the one bloated, the others
impotent.  This position he illustrates by the following fable.
" A long time ago, when men were not much wiser
than pigs are nowadays, the head became exceedingly dissatisfied at seeing the blood circulating freely
through all parts of the body, even to the tips of the
fingers and ends of the toes, without discrimination,
and prayed to Jupiter to remedy this democratic,
levelling economy of nature. The gods always grant
foolish prayers, and accordingly Jupiter decreed that
the blood should no longer circulate to the extremities,
but confine itself to certain favoured parts, such as




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      211
the head, the heart, the liver, and the lungs, which in
a little time became so overcharged and unwieldy that
they could hardly perform their ordinary functions.
The head grew giddy, the heart palpitated with oppressive struggles, the liver expanded into turgid inactivity,
and the lungs puffed like a pair of bellows. Meanwhile the extremities, shut off from the stream  of
life thus withdrawn to pamper the other parts, gradually shrivelled up, and lost their elasticity, insomuch
that the hands could no longer perform their functions, or the legs support the overgrown head above
them.'0 Jupiter!' cried the head,'restore the circulation of the blood to its former channels, and let
nature again have her way.''Fool!', replied Jupiter,
laughing — dost thou think it as easy to restore, as
to disturb, the order of nature? Hadst thou let her
alone, each limb and organ of the frame to which
thou belongest would have equally partaken of the
support of life, and all would have grown with a
happy, harmonious proportion, into healthful, mature,
and vigorous manhood. Now it is too late. Even
the gods cannot remedy the consequences of folly,
however they may remove its causes.  Thou hast
grown prematurely, and it is ordained that such never
live long. The mushroom of a night is the ruin of
a day.' A rush of blood to the brain brought on
apoplexy, and the decree of the gods was fulfilled."
The ride along the glorious Hudson, from  the
Mohawk to where the road turns Westward to the
Springs, presents a perpetual succession of enchanting
scenes. But by this time the inquisitive traveller is,
doubtless, full of anticipations of the delights of these
ethereal fountains, where a thousand nymphs, more




212      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
beautiful, or at least better dressed, than ever haunted
legendary stream or crystal spring of yore, quaff the
inspiring beverage, till - till one is astonished what
becomes of it! We will therefore delay him  no
longer. Perish the beauties of nature!  What are
they all when compared with those exquisite combinations of art and nature, which puzzle the understanding to decide which had the most to do in their
production, the milliner or the goddess!
BALLSTON.
The first view of Ballston generally has the same
effect upon visitors that matrimony is said to have
upon young lovers. It is very extraordinary, but the
first impression - we mean of Ballston -is that it is
the ugliest, most uninviting spot in the universe. But
this impression soon wears away, as the tourist daily
associates with beautiful damsels, the lustre of whose
unfading and ineffable charms diffuses itself as it
were over the whole face of nature, converting the
ugly swamp into a green meadow, the muddy brook
into a pellucid rivulet meandering musically along,
the mounds of sand into full-bosomed hills, and Sans
Souci into the palace of the fairy Feliciana, where,
as every-body knows, people were so happy they did
not know what to do with themselves.  We defy
any man to be surrounded by beautiful women, even
though it were in utter darkness, without having
his imagination exclusively saturated with ideas of
grace and loveliness, let the surrounding objects be
what they may. For, as the poet has it: 




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.           213'The eye of beauty, like-the glorious sun,
Casts a reflected lustre all around,
Making deformity itself partake
In its wide-glowing splendours."
The localities of Ballston and Saratoga are ennobled and illustrated by this singular influence of
beauty. It must be confessed, if they depended only
on their own intrinsic capabilities they would be no
way extraordinary. Yet, to do them justice, they are
not altogether desperate as to pretensions. If the marshes were only meadows, dotted with majestic elms;
the sand-hills richly cultivated with fields of wheat and
corn; the sluggish brook a pastoral, purling river; the
pine trees stately forests of oak and hickory, and their
stumps a little more picturesque; — neither Ballston
nor Saratoga need be ashamed to show itself any
day in the week, not excepting Sunday.  As it is,
candour itself must admit that their attractions are
altogether reflected from the ladies' eyes.
Being now  arrived at the head-quarters, the very
focus and hot-bed of elegance, fashion, and refine-.
ment, it becomes us to be more particular in our
directions to the inexperienced traveller, who peradventure hath never sojourned at a watering-place.
For this purpose we have with great pains, and at
the expense of a vast deal of actual observation and
thought, collected, digested, and codified, a system of
rules and regulations, derived from the best sources,
and sanctioned by the example of people of the very
first tournure as well as the most finished education:
to wit, brokers of eminence, retired bankrupts living
upon their means, aspiring apprentices, and dandies
of the first pretensions. For the purpose of being
more succinct, clear, and explicit, we have divided




214      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
our code into chapters, comprising a complete set of
precepts for the government of every class of persons,
beginning, however, with a few  general rules and
standing directions of universal application.
CHAPTER I.
OF LODGINGS.THE first requisite on arriving at either Ballston or
Saratoga is to procure lodgings. In the choice of a
house, the traveller will do well to consult the newspapers, to see if the landlord has a proper conception
of the art of puffing himself, without which, we affirm
without fear of contradiction, no man has any legitimate claim to fashionable notoriety. A fellow who
has not interest to raise a puff must be something
worse than a swindler or a murderer. We are aware
that certain wiseacres, with even less money than wit,
and less knowledge of the world than a bookworm,
have been pleased on divers occasions to ridicule this
system of puffs and recommendations, as exclusively
appertaining to quackery in medicine. But let us tell
them to their teeth, that a system applicable to quack
doctors has been found, by actual experience, to answer just as well for quack lawyers, quack parsons,
quack politicians, quack philosophers, quack poets,
quack novelists, quack publicans, and quacks of all
sorts, sizes, dimensions, qualities, appurtenances, and
pretensions. "Let them laugh that win," said the
renowned Pedagogus, who once compiled a book in




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     215
which he made the unparalleled and gigantic improvement of spelling words as they are pronounced, instead of pronouncing them as they are spelled. By
selling his book at a great discount, he got all the
school-masters - we beg pardon - principals of gymnasia, and of polytechnic, philotechnic, chirographic,
and adelphic academies, to recommend it. Honest
Thomas Dilworth forthwith hid his powdered head,
especially when, in addition to this, upwards of three
hundred great politicians, who were, ex officio, scholars
and philosophers, recommended the book as a most
valuable work, distinctly marking the progress of
mind and the astonishing strides of the gigantic spirit
of the age. All the rational people then living, of
whom however there were not above a hundred millions, laughed most consumedly at the sage Pedagogus and his certificates; but he only replied, " Let
them laugh that win."  The sage Pedagogus, in the
course of twenty years, sold upwards of six million
copies of his book, and made his fortune. Where
was the greater wisdom? in the sage Pedagogus, or
in the people that laughed at him?
Therefore it is we say again, and again, repeating
it three thousand times to all who will listen, go to
the house that has the greatest number of puffs to its
back, although it may, and doubtless does, sometimes
happen, that they are indited by some honest man
of the quill, who has settled his bill by bartering his
praise for the landlord's pudding.




216      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
CHAPTER II.
OF DRINKING THE WATERS.
THERE is no doubt, in the opinion of those who have
observed the vast progress of the human mind since
the discovery of the new planet Herschel and the invention of self-sharpening pencils, that the ancients
laboured under the disease of a constipated understanding. Else they could never have differed as they
did about the summum bonum, or great good, holding at least three hundred different opinions, some
of which were inexpressibly absurd; as, for instance,
that which pointed out the practice of virtue as the
only foundation of happiness. But, ever since the discovery of the new  planet and the self-sharpening
pencil, and, above all, the invention of the chessplaying automaton, all rational animals, from the
philosopher to the learned pig, unite in pronouncing
a good appetite, with the wherewithal to satisfy it, to
be the real, and only, summum bonum, the fountain
of all our knowledge, as well as the source of all
substantial happiness. How is it that the said pig
is taught the noble science of A, B, C, except through
the medium of his appetite? and what impels the
animal, man, to the exertion of his faculties, bodily
and mental, but his appetite? Necessity, says the
old proverb, is the mother of invention. Now, what
is necessity, but hunger? The vital importance of a
good appetite cannot be better illustrated than by the
following passage from the works of M. Huet, bishop
of Avranches, the most learned man of his age, if not
the; most learned man of any age. " Whenever," says




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       217
he, " I receive letters late in the evening, or very near
the time of dining, I lay them by for another opportunity. Letters generally convey more bad news than
good; so that, on reading them either at night or at
noon, I am sure to spoil my appetite, or my repose."
It is doubtless in the pursuit of this chief good, a
good appetite, and the means of satisfying it, that
thousands of people flock to the Springs, from  all
quarters. It is in this quest they exchange the delight
of making money, for the honour of spending it; it is
for this the matron quits the comforts of her domestic
circle, to mingle in the crowd by day, and sleep at
night in a room six feet by nine, opening on a passage
where the tread of human feet is never intermitted,
from  sunset to sunrise -from sunrise to sunset. It
is for this the delicate and sensitive girl musters her
smiles, nurtures her roses, and fills her bandboxes.
It is for this the snug citizen, who, as he waxes rich,
becomes poor in appetite and weak of digestion, opens
his accumulated hoards, and exchanges the cherished
maxims of saving, for those of spending his money.
It is for this the beau reserves the last few hundreds
that ought to go to the paying of his tailor, determined to enjoy the delights of eating, though the
artist starve, in spite of goose and cabbage. In short,
it is for this, and this alone, that his grace of York,
of blessed memory, allowed to his cook, the thricerenowned and immortal Monsieur Ude, twelve hundred pounds sterling a year of the money that ought
to have gone to the paying of his creditors, to whom
his grace bequeathed only the worst half of the summum bonum, a good appetite, with nothing to eat.
Next to a good appetite for dinner, a keen relish for




218      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
breakfast constitutes the happiness of our existence.
In order to attain to this, the first requisite is to rise
early in the morning, and wait a couple of hours with
as much impatience as possible, drinking a glass of
Congress water about every ten minutes, and walking
briskly between each, till the walk is inevitably increased to a trot, and the trot to a gallop when the
preliminaries of a good appetite for breakfast are
completed. Philosophers and chemists have never
yet fairly accounted for this singular propensity to
running, produced by the waters, nor shall we attempt
to solve the difficulty. It is sufficient for us that the
great good is attained, in the acquisition of a sharp
appetite for breakfast. And here we will stop a moment, to notice a ridiculous calumny of certain people,
who, we suspect, prefer brandy and water to all the
pure waters of the Springs: to wit, that it is the morning air and exercise that produces this propensity to
running, and the keen appetite consequent upon it.
The refutation of this absurd notion is found in the
fact that the waters of Ballston do not occasion people
to run half as fast, and that consequently they don't
eat half as much as they do at Saratoga. In truth,
it is worth a man's while to go there only to see people eat: the amatory philosophers, in particular, who
maintain that some young ladies live upon air, others
upon the odour of roses, and others upon the Waverley novels, should not fail.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.            219
CHAPTER III.
OF EATING.
IT is not necessary to be very particular on this
head, as the rules we have given in respect to the
deportment of the elegant tourist, in steam-boats, will
sufficiently apply to the Springs.  We will merely
observe that great vigilance and celerity is necessary,
in both places, inasmuch as the viands have a habit
of vanishing before one can say Jack Robinson. One
special rule, which we cannot by any means omit
mentioning, is, never to stop to lose time in considering what you shall eat, or to help your neighbours;
if you do, you are a gone man.
We remember to have seen a spruce John Bull,
(who, from  his carrying a memorandum-book and
making frequent notes, was no doubt a forger of books
of travels), who, the first morning he attended breakfast at Congress Hall, afforded us infinite diversion.
He had placed his affections most evidently on a jolly
smoking steak, that, to say the honest truth, was the
object of our own secret devoirs, and stood leaning
on the back of a chair, directly opposite, waiting for
that bell which excels the music of the spheres or of
the veritable Signorina, in the ears of a true amateur.
At the first tinkling of this delightful instrument, a
nimble young fellow, from the purlieus of the Arcade,*
with a body no bigger than a wasp, slipped in be[* This building was put up in the year 1826. Commencing about 120
feet from Broadway on the Northerly side of Maiden Lane, it was from 50 to
60 feet wide, and ran through to John Street. It had two stories and an
attic, with a partially-glazed roof. Divided into a number of small fancy
stores, it failed as a speculation.]




220     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
tween, took the chair, and transferred a large half of the
steak to his own uses. The Signior John Bull looked
awfully dignified, but said nothing, and departed in
search of another steak, in a paroxysm of hunger.
He had swallowed eight tumblers of Congress that
morning. In the mean while, he had lost the chance
of getting any seat at all, until he was accommodated
at a side-table, where we detected him making several notes in his memorandum-book, which, without
doubt, bore hard upon the Yankees. It is astonishing
how much the tone of a traveller's book depends upon
the tone of his stomach. We once travelled in Italy
with an English book-maker by trade, who occasionally read portions of his lucubrations to us, and we
always had occasion to notice this singular connexion
of the brain and the stomach.  If he got a good
breakfast, he let the Italians off quite easy; if his dinner was satisfactory, he grumbled out a little praise;
but if he achieved a good supper and bed, he would
actually overflow in a downright eulogiur. But woe
to Italy if his breakfast was scanty — his dinner indifferent - his supper wanting - and his bed peopled
with fleas. Ye powers! how he cut and slashed away!
The country was naught —the men all thieves and
beggars - the women no better than they should be -
the morals good-for-nothing - the religion still worse
-the monks a set of lazy dogs    and the pope was
sure to be classed with his old playmate, the devil.
Of so much consequence is a good dinner to the reputation of nations. It behooves, therefore, all tavernkeepers to bear in mind, that they have in trust the
honour of their country, and that they should be careful to stuff all travellers by profession, and all profes



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       221
sors of the noble art of puffing, with the good things
of their larders-to station a servant behind the
back of each of their chairs, with special orders to be
particularly attentive —and to give them the best
beds in the house. So shall their country flourish in
diurnals and immortal books of travel, and taverns
multiply and prosper evermore. There is no place in
the world where this rule of feeding people into goodhumour is more momentous than at the Springs,
where the appetite becomes so gloriously teasing and
imperative, that it is credibly reported, in the annals
of the bon-ton, that a delicate young lady did once
eat up her beau, in a rural walk before breakfast.
Certain it is, the unfortunate young gentleman was
never heard of, and his bills at Congress Hall, and at
the tailors, remain unpaid even unto this day.
The reader will please to have a little patience here,
while we stop to take a pinch of snuff before we commence another chapter.
CHAPTER IV.
OF FASHIONABLE TOURNURE, AND THE BEHAVIOUR BECOMING IN YOUNG
LADIES AT THE SPRINGS.
1. YOUNG ladies should never flirt very violently,
except with married men, or those engaged to be
married, because nobody will suspect they mean any
harm in these cases, and, besides, the pleasure will be
enhanced by making their wives and mistresses tolerably unhappy. Pleasure, without giving pain to
somebody, is not worth enjoying.




222      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
2. Young ladies should take special care of their
bishops. The loss of a bishop is dangerous in other
games besides chess.
3. Young ladies should take every occasion to indulge to excess in drinking-we mean the watersbecause it is good for their complexions.
4. Young ladies should always sit down, whenever
they are tired of dancing, whether other ladies in the
set have had their turn or not; and they should never
sit down till they are tired, under the vulgar idea of
giving those a chance of dancing who have had none
before. It is the very height of tournure to pay not
the least attention to the feelings of other people 
except indeed they are of the first fashion.
5. If a young lady don't like the people standing
opposite to her in the dance, she ought to quit her
place and seek another, taking care to give the said
people such a look as will explain her motive.
6. Young ladies should be careful to remember on
all occasions, that, according to the most fashionable
decisions, it is the height of good breeding to be
ill-bred, and that what used to be called politeness is
considered by the best society as great a bore as the
tunnel under the Thames.
7. Young ladies should never forget that blushing
is a sign of guilt.
8. Young ladies, and indeed old ladies too, must
always bear in mind that fine feathers make fine
birds; and that the more feathers they wear, the more
theyapproximate to high ton. It is of no sort of consequence, according to the present mode, whether the
dress is proper for the occasion or not. A walking
dress ought to be as fine as one for an assembly, for




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     223
the peacock spreads his tail equally on the top of a
hen-roost and on the gate of a palace. The infallible
rule for dressing is, to get as much finery, and as
many colours, as possible, and put them all on at
once. It looks like economy to wear only a few ornaments at a time, and, of all things on the face of
the earth, nothing is so low, vulgar, and bourgeois, as
economy. No lady who utters the word, even in her
sleep, can ever aspire to tournure. We knew an unfortunate damsel, who ruined herself for ever in good
society, by being overheard to say that she could not
afford to buy a Cashmere. She was unanimously
left out of the circle thenceforth and forevermore.
9. In going into a ball or supper room where there
is a great crowd, young ladies should not wait the
motions of the married ones, but push forward as vigorously as may be, in order to get a good place; and
not mind a little squeezing- it makes them  look
rosy. Nothing that can possibly happen is so mortifying as to be obliged to take up with an out-of-theway seat at a supper-table, or the lower end of the
room in a cotillon. We have known ladies go into a
decline in consequence.
10. Young ladies should always say they are engaged, when asked to dance by a person they don't
choose to dance with. It is a pious fraud, justified
by the emergency of the case.
11. In walking up and down the public drawingroom, it is always fashionable to keep up a bold front.
For this purpose, it is advisable for five or six young
ladies to link arm-in-arm, and sweep the whole room.
If any body comes in the way, elbow them out without ceremony, and laugh as loud as possible to show
it is all a joke.




224       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
12. Young ladies should be sure to laugh loud, and
talk loud in public, especially when they say an illnatured thing about somebody within hearing whom
nobody knows.  Such people have no business at the
Springs.  Epsom salts is good enough for them.  If
they must have Congress-water, let them go to Lynch
& Clark's, and not bore good society.
13. Young ladies should dress as often, and in as
great a variety, as possible.  Besides passing away
the time, it sometimes achieves wonders.  We have
known an obstinately undecided, undetermined, hesitating, vacillating, prevaricating beau, who had resisted all the colours of the rainbow, at last brought to
the ground by a philosophical, analytical, and antithetical disposition of pink, yellow, green, white, black,
blue, fawn, Marie-Louise, bronze, and brass-coloured
silks and ribbons, that proved irresistible. As some
fish are only to be caught by particular baits at certain seasons, so some men are caught by particular
colours.  We ourselves could never resist a flesh-coloured gauze, and silken hose of the same.  Young
ladies had much better study the nature of these affinities, instead of going to hear lectures on political
economy, chemistry, and anatomical dissections. The
only part of a man they have any concern with is the
heart.  Women are like bees-because.  We
will give a ball and supper to the fortunate person
who shall solve this conundrum: Why are women
like bees? *
[* The quidnuncs of the day appear to have taken this up as a genuine
conundrum. The New-York Mirror for October 4, 1828, quoting "The
Statesman", gives the following answers: —1. Because they deal most in
sweets during the honey-moon. —2. Because they swarm most briskly in
pleasant weather.- 3. Because they are generally upon the wing. -4. Because they are fond of combs.]




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.         225
14. Next to dress, (which is, or ought to be, the
first object of a lady's care), is the management of
the person; for which the following directions will be
found highly useful. The first essential to gracefulness is a total departure from nature. What is the
use of being taught, if ladies do not exhibit the effects
of teaching, the whole object of which is to counteract the natural vulgarity of nature? If nature gave
them  a grave or pensive disposition, they must try
and thwart it by perpetual laughing. If she bestowed
on them a playful, animated mind, the effort should
be to appear sad, sorrowful, sentimental, and sleepy.
If she gave them a light, airy, elastic step, all they
have to do is to creep softly along, with downcast
look, and silent, solemn inactivity. If, on the contrary, she vouchsafed them an outline like a dumpling,
it is proper and indispensable to dance, bounce, skip,
and curvet, like an India-rubber ball. In short, nature must be frustrated in some way or other, and
there is an end of it.  Without a little caprice, a little affectation, and a great deal of fashionable nonsense, a young lady is intolerable. Talk of nature, and
sincerity, and. singleness of heart! A natural woman is
no more fit for use than a raw calf s-head. She must
be worked up with the spices of fashion, or a refined
man who has travelled will pronounce her entirely
destitute of tournure.
15. The first requisite for a young lady, in walking,
riding, sitting, lolling, or dancing, is, that she should
do it according to the fashion, whether it is set by an
opera-dancer, or by a person of high ton, who does as
she does because she can't do any better. If the said
opera-dancer, from  the mere force of habit, strides
15




226      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
along, and lifts up her feet half a yard high, the young
ladies must do the same. If the aforesaid person of
rank walks with a wriggle, a jerk, a stoop, or a lean
on one side, or fiddles along with the elbows and
hips; if she does all this, because from some physical
incapacity she cannot do otherwise, still the young
ladies, by the laws of fashion, must do the same, and
creep, or wriggle, or jerk, or stoop, or walk crampsided, or fiddle along with elbows and hips, as the law
directs. Whatever is fashionable is graceful, beautiful, proper, and genteel, let the grumbling and vulgar
mob, who affect to follow nature, say what they will.
In short, it is now a well-established doctrine, that the
whole tenour of a fashionable education ought to be
to defeat the vulgar propensities implanted by nature.
To direct, control, or, what is still more ridiculous, to
facilitate, the expansion of natural beauties, qualities,
or propensities, is, to use a fashionable phrase just
come out at Almack's, " All bosh."  It is only the
poets who make such a rout about following nature,
and the sincerity of their declarations may be tested
by the contrast between their precepts and their example. Some one of these ranting, rhyming cavillers,
who is ashamed of his name, some time ago bored the
English world with the following philippic against
this imitative quality which is the distinguishing
characteristic of people of fashion, who, on reading it,
will no doubt smile at the vulgar indignation of this
parvenu. It is extracted, with an alteration or two
to suit present purposes, from an obscure poem, not
long since published in London, the name of which,
if we remember rightly, was " May Fair."




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.                      227
" The thinking mind this miracle must strike,
Scanning the moderns, that they're all alike:
True character is merged, for every soul,
Runs the same gauntlet, gains the self-same goal.
In the world's jostle is the stamp worn out,
As from the coins we carry long about.
They're all the same without, the same within,
Alike in dullness, and alike in sin;
All in one way they sit, ride, walk, or stand,
Speak with one voice, nay, learn to write one hand.
Drest to the mode, our very nurseries show,
The baby lady, and the infant beau:
In rival lustre maid and mistress meet,
And elbow one another in the street.
As much like nature are the things we see,
As yon clipped, dusty pole, is like a tree,
Green, waving, glorious, beautiful, and free."
Did ever mortal read such low  stuff!  It is almost as
vulgar and old-fashioned as Juvenal. But this is not
the worst.  Hear the villain!
" Our women, too, no varied medium keep;
Like storms they riot, or like ditches sleep.
Pale, cold, and languid, wrapped in sullen state,
Or flush'd, warm, eager, full of learndd prate,
Blue-bottle-flies, they buzz about and shine,
Cramming ten senseless words in one long line.
These haunt the galleries of the cheap antique,
(Who cares for naked figures- they're but Greek!)
And knowing man's no longer to be found,
Except in monkey shape, above the ground,'Tend anatomic lectures, there to see,
Not what he is, but what he ought to be;
Display their forms in the gymnastic class,
And get ethereally drunk with gas."
We have given these extracts to show  our fashionable readers (and we despise all others) what human
nature in the form  of a poet is capable of: as well as
to laugh at his presumption in finding fault with what
constitutes the charm, of fashion -its uniformity. By
its magic influence on dress and demeanour, it reduces




228      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
grace and deformity, beauty and ugliness, youth and
age, activity and decrepitude, talent and stupidity, to a
perfect level. All look alike, act alike, talk alike, feel
alike, think alike, and constitute as it were one universal
identity. " Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould"
compare with a fashionable lady of the winter of 1828,
except her fashionable cook or chambermaid?  Were
not the latter, like Achilles, a little vulnerable about
the heel and ankle, this beautiful symmetry of the
whole sex would be complete. But perfection is not
to be looked for in this world   not even in the world
of fashion.
Next to the arts of dress and behaviour, the most
important thing to be studied is the system of graduating the thermometer of attention to the claims of
the beaux. This is a matter of no small difficulty,
and requires great tact, as the reviewers say.  The
following general rules will be found useful; but only
long experience, or frequent parental admonition, can
perfect this indispensable accomplishment.
First. Always proportion your attentions to the
claims of the gentlemen who aspire to them. These
claims are of great variety. One man may claim consideration from the tying of his neckcloth -another
from the cut of his coat -another from his accomplishments, such as fiddling, dancing, talking EnglishFrench, or French-English, or writing sleepy verses.
Others come forward with the appendage of a gig
and tandem, or a curricle- others with that of a full
purse, or great expectations- and others preposterously expect consideration from the qualities of their
heads and hearts. These last deserve no mercy. The




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        229
following list is carefully graduated according to the
latest discoveries in the great science of bon-ton.
Number one of the classes of beaux, entitled to the
first consideration, consists of the thrice-blessed who
are accommodated with full purses. These constitute
the first-born of Egypt; they are the favourite offspring of fortune, and carry with them a substitute
for wit, valour, and virtue, in their pockets. They
are entitled to the first-fruits of every prudent, welleducated young lady.  Yet it is not actually incumbent on a young lady to fall in love with them at first
sight. If the fortunate gentleman is worth fifty thousand dollars, he is only entitled to a gentle preference,
a look and a smile occasionally. If he is the meritorious possessor of a hundred thousand, the preference
must be demonstrated by double the number of looks
and smiles.  Two hundred thousand merit a downright penchant; three hundred thousand justify the
lady in being very unhappy; and half a million secures
her pardon if she dies for love. N. B. If it comes to
this extremity, the mother is justified in charging the
half a million with practising upon the young lady's
affections, and insisting on his marrying her.
Secondly. The next class of pretenders are the
gentlemen who carry off belles, as the champions at
the Olympic games gained their triumphs, by virtue
of their horses. A  single horse goes for little or
nothing; a gig and mounted servant is something,
and the owner somebody; a tandem  and livery
makes a distingue; and the fortunate proprietor of a
phaeton and four may fairly enter the lists with any
man, except the half a million, or the second cousin
of an English lord.




230      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Thirdly. There is a class of beaux, who justly claim
considerable consideration on the score of their costume. Dress being that which above all things distinguishes the man from the brute, it follows of course
that the best-dressed man is the first man in the
creation.  Accordingly, the more accurate modern
philosophers have rejected the definition of man given
by Plato; to wit, " A two-legged animal without feathers": and substituted one much more applicable to
his present state.  They define him as, " An animal
without legs, but with abundance of pantaloonsstitched, pressed, corseted- composition, regent'scloth - makers, Scofield, Phelps, & Howard." * Welldressed young men are therefore entitled to great
consideration, and, if not of the first rank, assuredly
deserve to come in immediately after the cavaliers and
their horses, provided always they can show a receipt
from the tailor.
Fourthly. Prize-poets, players on the piano, anniversary orators, and all that sort of thing, belong to
the class of minor distingues, and are entitled to the
notice of a fashionable young lady; for all fashionable
young ladies ought to wear at least one blue stocking.
They will answer, however, only for beaux in public
and en passant.  Never fall in love with them, as you
value a coach, a Cashmere shawl, a soirde, or a threestory house with folding doors and marble mantelpieces. If, indeed, the poet could build four-story
fire-proof brick stores, or brokers' offices in Wall Street,
as easily as he builds castles in the air; or the chemist
transmute lead into gold; or the piano-hero erect walls
by the magic of fingers, like Amphion; or the anniver[* Well-known tailors in New York, in 1828.]




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     231
sary orator coin bank-notes as he does words; then
indeed they might be worthy the homage of your
eyes and hearts; -as it is, they will do well enough
to swell your train.
Fifthly. But, really, it is hardly worth while to notice such a miserable, obscure set of beings, who seem
born for nothing else but to be useful. We mean the
men who claim  the attention of young ladies on
the score of merit and an amiable disposition; who
are not worth a plum; who drive no horses; who derive their being from no tailors; and who can neither
write prize-poetry, turn lead into gold, fiddle sonatas,
nor spout at anniversaries. We should like to know
what such people were made for. Fortunately, however, there are now but few such scrubs; for it is not
the fault of lexicons, catechisms, and compendiums,
if every man, woman, and child, cannot know or do
something to make himself or herself distingue. If
nothing else, poetry can be written, that shall be excellent rhyme, however it may lack reason. Of the few
scrubs, of whom the best that can be said is that they
aspire to be respectable   (a word not to be found in
the dictionary of fashion) - still fewer are to be met
at the Springs, where neither the air nor the waters
agree with them. They will much more likely be
found attending to their paltry business, storing their
minds with the lumber of antiquated knowledge, or
enjoying the soporifics of the fireside —from which
may all good stars deliver us! If, by any rare chance,
one of these singular monsters should appear at the
Springs, and peradventure make a demonstration towards a young lady aspiring to tournure, we would
advise her to laugh him to death at once. Such men




232      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
form  a sort of icy atmosphere about a woman, in
which dandies die, and affectation is irresistibly impelled into the vulgar ranks of nature and propriety.
CHAPTER V.
OF THE BEHAVIOUR PROPER FOR MARRIED LADIES AT THE SPRINGS.
1. A WELL-BRED wife should never take her husband
to the Springs, unless she is afraid to leave him.behind. If he is a stupid, plodding blockhead, he had
better stay at home to make money while his wife is
spending it. But if, on the contrary, he is a little gay,
gallant, and frisky, she had better bring him with her,
that she may have him under her eye, and justify her
own little flirtations by his example.
2. In case they come together to the Springs, they
should never be seen together while there, as it is considered indecent.
3. Married women should always single out old
bachelors, whose whole business is to attend upon
pretty women, as moths fly about candles, not to
light a flame, but to be consumed in one. Or, in
default of these, they should select young dandies,
who lack a little fashionable impudence, if such can
be found; or, in the last resort, the husbands of other
ladies, who devote all their attention, as in duty
bound, to the wives of other men. A married woman
detected walking arm-in-arm with her own lawful
husband, might better commit a faux pas at once —
her reputation is irretrievably gone.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      233
4. Never take children with you to the Springs.
Leave them to the care of old nurse, at home, under
the superintendence of Providence. They are perfect
bores; and, besides, even the most gallant Lothario
will hardly have the face to make love to a woman
surrounded by her children.
5. Married ladies should never sit next their husbands at meals, as it might give rise to a suspicion
that they could not get any body else to sit by them.
Besides, the presence of a husband is sometimes a
disagreeable check to the bachelor beaux, and spoils
many a gallant speech.
6. Married ladies with grown-up daughters had
better pass for their step-mothers, if possible; but if
this is not possible, they should take every opportunity to observe that they were very young when
they married.
7. Married ladies should forget they are married, as
much as possible. The idea of a husband coming
across the mind is apt to occasion low spirits, and put
an awkward restraint on the behaviour.
8. Neither husband nor wife ought to say an illnatured thing to each other in public, without prefacing it with, my dear Mr., or, my dear Mrs. In private
it is no matter.
9. They should be particularly careful not to throw
any thing at each other's heads at meal times; it is
almost as bad as to be seen kissing in public. This
accident however cannot occur, if due regard be paid
to the first and second rules.
10. The primary object of a married lady at
the Springs is, or ought to be, to be talked about.
Whether it be for any thing commendable or praise



234     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
worthy is a matter of not the least consequence.
This sine qua non may be attained in various ways 
by eccentricity in behaviour or dress; by making a
fool of herself, in attempting to pass for a young
woman; or by drinking sUch enormous quantities of
the water, that people perplex themselves to death in
guessing what becomes of it all. The best mode,
however, of compassing the greatest of all possible
pleasures, that of notoriety, is to encourage the attentions of some gay coxcomb, till all the world begins
to talk about nothing else. This is the true eclat,
without which it is not worth while to take the trouble of breathing in this world.
11. Mothers should never take grown-up daughters
to the Springs; it makes them look so old.
12. There is, however, one exception to the foregoing rule: namely, when they wish to settle a young
lady in life. In that case, they ought to be careful of
seven things, to wit:To make them leave their hearts at home, lest they
should give them away to young squires who can't
pay value received.
To make them leave their feminine timidity, miscalled modesty, at home; otherwise, they may not
have the face to make what is called at Almack's " a
dead set ", at the proper object.
To be sure to tell every-body in the most solemn
manner, not more than twenty times a day, how fond
Miss Angelina, or Miss Adeline, is of retirement, and
how backward in showing off her accomplishments
in public.
To ascertain the weight of a young gentleman's
purse, or at least of that of his papa, before the young




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     235
lady's heart is in danger. This is sometimes rather a
difficult matter, as it is not uncommon, nowadays, for
gentlemen to make a vast figure with other people's
money. A copy of the will of the old gentleman is
the best security for a matrimonial speculation. But
even this is not infallible, for we ourselves once had a
large landed estate left us, by an old bachelor who
had feasted in our house for twenty years, which
turned out to belong to another person.
Never to lose an opportunity, while condescending
to accept the arm of the selected Adonis in a promenade around the drawing or dancing room, to repeat
all the flattering things the young lady has not said
in his praise. Where one man, ay, or one woman, is
taken by the heart, a thousand are taken by this bait.
We speak from long experience, having never yet
been able to resist any woman who admired us, even
though she might not have been handsome enough to
make a song about.
If the mother of a young lady at the Springs has a
hard character to deal with in her daughter, that is,
one who cherishes certain pernicious and disobedient
notions about loving, respecting, or, most of all, obeying, a husband, and prefers love to money, we know
of no more hopeful plan for curing this romantic folly
than to point out to her notice as many couples as
may be, who have made love-matches. Ten to one,
the contemplation of these will satisfy the young lady
that money wears better than love.
Lastly, to consider merit, talents, amiability, and
an attractive person and manner, as dust in the balance, when put in comparison with money. Money
not only makes the mare go, but puts the horses to




236      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the coach; and, (what is the climax of human bliss),
secures to the happy lady who don't mind how much
she pays for it the first choice from a consignment of
cast-off bonnets of an opera-dancer.
CHAPTER VI.
OF MARRIED MEN, AND THE BEHAVIOUR PROPER FOR THEM AT THE
SPRINGS.
1. A MARRIED gentleman must never take an ugly
wife to the Springs, lest he should have to wait upon
her himself; nor a handsome one, lest she should be
too much waited on by others. But if, as we are informed is sometimes the case, the lady's health absolutely requires it, and there is no help, the laws of
fashion peremptorily prescribe to the husband a total
oblivion of his wife in all public places, where she
must be left to the exercise of her own powers of
attraction upon other men, for obtaining the attentions necessary to her comfort and happiness. If she
is handsome, she will be sure of these; if she is easy
of access, and free from all vulgar airs of prudery, she
will stand a fair chance of coming in for a due share;
if she is neither one nor the other, she must fain take
up with some forlorn bachelor in his grand climacteric.
2. Married gentlemen would do well to keep their
marriage secret as long as possible, were it not for the
great advantage it gives them in flirting with the
young ladies.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     237
3. Married gentlemen should be particular in reserving all their good-humour and spirits for public
use.  As to their private deportment, that is of no
consequence, provided they have discreet wives, who
are content to be a little miserable, provided everybody thinks them the happiest women in the world.
4. Married men should never forget, that it is better
to be blamed for neglect and unkindness to their wives
than to be quizzed for their attentions to them. It is
better to commit sacrilege, than to be laughed at by
people of fashion. We have known several persons
of great sensibility who actually died in consequence.
5. It has been asserted by certain cynics and blockheads, that old married men who live in the country,
and who have young, gay, and handsome wives, had
better take them to Niagara, Montreal, Quebec, orhome, than to the Springs. Ballston and Saratoga,
say they, are great places for scandal, and it is not
absolutely out of nature for a lady to gain her health
and lose her reputation, at one or other of these
places. We hold these cautions in utter and prodigious contempt, maintaining in the very teeth of such
heterodoxy in fashion, that an elderly gentleman, with
a young, gay, frisky, handsome wife, cannot do half
so well as to take her every season to the Springs.
There she will be in her proper sphere- admired, followed, and caressed; and there, if there be any virtue
in the waters, she will be in a good-humour with her
husband, if it be only to repay him for the admiration
of other men. There, if anywhere in the world, he
will enjoy domestic felicity, and taste of that peace
which surpasseth the understanding of all vulgar husbands. He ought to go as early, and stay as long, as




238      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
there is a sufficiency of admirers to keep his wife in
fine spirits, for, ten to one — (we confess it, such
is the instability of all sublunary happiness) -when
they return to the quiet enjoyment of domestic bliss,
in their solitary home, the recollection of past happiness will poison the enjoyment of the present, and
smiles be turned to desperate frowns. For this, however, there is a sovereign remedy - a journey to town,
and lodgings at a fashionable hotel.
6. For those wives that cannot be happy at home
husbands are bound to find amusement abroad, just
as they are bound to find them attendants, when they
don't choose to act the part of cavaliere servente themselves.
7. As it is a received and inflexible law of the beaumonde here, to imitate all foreign fashions as a matter
of course, we suggest to the fashionables who constitute good society, to mince matters no longer, and not
to stand shilly-shally, like a horse with his forefeet in the
water and his hind feet out. We would have them
do exactly as the most elegant and fashionable models
of Europe do -marry for money or rank; for, as to
love, that can be got any where. We would have
them consider marriage, not as tying them up, but as
letting them loose. We would have them purchase
their matrimonial freedom, by mutually conceding to
each other the right of self-government in all matters
whatever, except the enormity of being out of fashion.
It is utterly inconceivable by those who have not had
the advantage of an European tour, and of seeing
people of the highest rank-in their carriages or at
the theatres —it is utterly inconceivable how this
mutual freedom conduces to the happiness of domes



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     239
tic life. But, as example is said to be better than
precept, we will record an instance that came under
our observation, for the benefit of our fashionable
readers, craving only leave to omit the real names.
Honorius and Honoria married for love: it was the
mode then- at least it was the mode for people to
persuade themselves they did so. The husband was
a first-rate man of fashion; for he dined well, drove
a handsome carriage, gave parties, and lived in a threestory house with folding doors and marble mantelpieces. The wife was in like manner indubitably a
fashionable lady; for she had a fashionable milliner,
a fashionable air, a fashionable coach, a fashionable
acquaintance, could not exist without silver forks, and
her family was of the first respectability - for it could
show more bankrupts than any in town. According
to the most approved custom, Honorius gave punch,
and Honoria saw company, in the first style, with
eight grooms and groomesses of the highest ton. One
of the former was a foreigner of great distinction, for
he could play the piano divinely, and was third cousin
to a principal tenant of an English prince of the
blood  no, we mistake, of an English duke-the
princes of the blood in England having no land to
plague themselves with.
After seeing company, they moved into Broadway,
or Hudson Square —it matters not —into a threestory house with folding doors and marble mantelpieces, and for a time were as happy as the day is
long, for the whole town visited them, and admired
the folding doors, the marble mantel-pieces, the
carpets, and the damask curtains of eight different




240     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
colours. But, alas! the chase of happiness is nothing
but the little boy running after the rainbow and falling into a ditch, unless people set out-at first in the
right path. The twenty-ninth evening after marriage,
Honorius was detected in a yawn at the firesidefor Honoria had insisted, before marriage, that they
should give up the world, and live to themselves in
the pure enjoyment of quiet domestic bliss. A yawn
per se is nothing; but with certain combinations and
associations it becomes extremely formidable. Honoria was unfortunately sufficiently awake to see it, and
it went nigh to break her heart. Still, as she was too
proud to show her real feelings, she only exclaimed, a
little sharply: "Lord, my dear —I wish you would
leave off that practice of yawning, and showing off
those great black teeth in the back part of your head."
Honorius had wellnigh jumped out of his skin at
this speech, so wanting in tournure, and had some
trouble to answer mildly, " Really, I am so stultified
with want of exercise and variety, that I am grown
quite stupid."  "You had better say at once you are
tired of my company," cried Honoria, bursting into
tears. Honorius assured her that he was not tired of
her company —that he never was tired of her company- that he never would be tired of her company
-and -here he was stopped by another yawn, that
was absolutely irresistible.
That night neither party slept a wink, for the last
yawn was followed by a keen encounter of wits, that
ended in what might be called a matrimonial segregation. However, people must be very ill-tempered, if
they can remain long on bad terms with their nearest
connexions. A reconciliation soon took place, and




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     241
Honorius, to prove that he never was and never would
be tired of his wife's company, staid at home all day,
and all the evening, although his health suffered materially in the direful struggles to repress those violent
impulses towards yawning which sometimes beset the
animal man when he has nothing to say and nothing
to think about. Too much fat puts out the candle,
and too much ashes chokes the fire. Tedium is the
mother of ill-nature, and testiness the offspring of
ennui. Honorius did not go out, and consequently
brought home no news, no topics of every-day gossip,
no food for raillery, laughter, or ridicule; and thereupon it came to pass, that our young and faithful
couple sometimes wanted themes for discussion, and
took to disputing and contradicting, merely to pass
the time.
Little by little- by those imperceptible snail's-paces,
which so often lead from passion to indifference, from
indifference to dislike, from dislike to antipathy, the
good Honorius, who was a well-disposed man, and
the amiable Honoria, who was really a reasonable
woman as times go, came at length to quarrel once,
twice, yea, thrice a day; nay, oftener, for, being always
at home, they were continually coming in contact, and
when married people have no other antagonist, they
generally fall out with each other. It is indeed quite
indispensable that we should have certain out-door
acquaintance to criticise, for the security of peace
within doors. This is considered by some sensible
people as the principal use of intimate friends. In
short, Honorius found fault with Honoria, and Honoria found fault with Honorius, even when they were
both free from blame. They fell out about the baby
16




242     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
— they fell out about the servants, the inside of the
house and the outside of the house, the stars, the
planets, the twelve signs, and the weather, which
never suited both at a time. In short, they fell out
about every thing, and they fell out about nothing.
At length, after a severe brush, Honorius, in a fit of
desperation, one day took his hat and actually sallied
forth into the places where merchants most do congregate. There he heard the news of the day, the ups
and downs of life, the whys and the wherefores, the
fires and the murders, the marriages and the divorces,
and all the items of the every-day drama of the busy
world. He did not come home till dinner-time, and
Honoria received him with as much kindness as if he
were come off a long journey. They sat down, and
she asked him the news. He told her all he had
heard, and the dinner passed off without a single
quarrel, although we are obliged to confess that
Honoria once threw the gauntlet, by finding fault
with his spilling the gravy on a clean damask tablecloth.
In the evening, however, there was another prolonged duet of yawning in andante, succeeded by a
quick measure of altercation. Honorius took his hat
again, and went to the theatre, whence he did not
return till past twelve; for, what with horses, dogs,
and devils, men made by nature's journeymen, spectacles, singing, dancing, tumbling, and the like, people
now certainly get the worth of their money at the
play, in quantity if not in quality. Poor Honoria was
so alarmed at his long absence that she thought he
had drowned himself, and was so glad to see him that
she forgot to ask him where he had been, till the next




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     243
morning at breakfast. He told all about the horses,
the dancers, the devils, The Flying Dutchman, the
flying Indians, the grins and the gauze, and the machinery and the pasteboard, till she laughed herself
almost to death, and accused him of having been at
a puppetshow. The breakfast went off charmingly,
although Honorius broke a teacup belonging to a set
that cost five hundred dollars, and Honoria put twice
as much milk in his coffee as he liked.
By degrees, this habit of going out increased upon
Honorius, so that, at length, he got to the other extreme, and Honoria was often left, day after day, evening after evening, in loneliness and solitude; for her
children were yet too young for companions. She
quarrelled a little with Honorius about it, who coolly
answered, " My dear, why don't you go out too? nobody hinders you."  " Where shall I go?  we have
completely got out of society, by visiting nobody."
"O, give a rout; I warrant you'll have company
enough: every-body will be your acquaintance." It
was decided; a rout was given, and every-body came.
This of course entitled them to invitations from everybody, and, instead of spending every day and evening
at home, they now  spent every day and evening
abroad. This again produced that desperate monotony, which, whether of company or solitude, excitement or stupidity, is equally tedious and unsatisfactory in the end. They began to dispute their way
regularly to and from parties, and matters became
worse than ever. Honorius was too polite to certain ladies whom  Honoria particularly hated; and
Honoria was too free with several gentlemen whom
Honorius supremely despised.




244     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
" Alas!", said Honorius one day to himself, "is
there no peace to be found in this world! "  And Honoria repeated the same exclamation to herself, just
at the same moment. A sudden ray of light broke
in upon Honorius, as if in response to this pathetic
appeal. If we cannot be happy together, is it not
possible to be happy asunder?  Honorius went out
by himself the very next night, the night after, and the
night after that. Honoria could hold out no longer,
and reproached him bitterly. " My dear," answered
Honorius, mildly, "why can't you go out by yourself, too?  The carriage was ordered on the instant
by Honoria, who went to one party, while Honorius
went in a hack to another. They both passed such a
delightful evening, that they repeated the experiment
again, and again. Each succeeded better and better,
and the arrangement has subsisted ever since. Honorius is out all day, and, when he happens to be at
home at night, Honoria is out at a party, or to the
play. In the winter they are never seen together,
except by accident at some public place, when you
would'take them for perfect strangers. In the summer, she goes to the Springs, he to Long Branch; the
children are left at home with the nurses, to preserve
peace and quiet in the family abroad. Honoria never
gets up to breakfast with Honorius, and Honorius
never is at home to dine with Honoria. She is at a
ball till two in the morning; he, at the faro-table all
night. They never meet-they never quarrel. Honoria is the delight of fashionable gentlemen; Honorius, the darling of fashionable ladies, who all envy
Honoria the possession of such an agreeable, witty,
polite husband. In short, they have discovered the




THE NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.               245
grand secret of preserving domestic peace and tranquillity at home- never meeting there.
CHAPTER  VII.
OF THE EXQUISITES, AND THE WHOLE DUTY OF MAN AT THE SPRINGS.
HAPPY the man who is born with whiskers, for he
will not be under the necessity of buying a goodly
pair. Without them, it is impossible to live. As the
May-Fair poet, whom   we  have  quoted  heretofore
with reprobation, most insolently sings: --
" All now wear beards, or buy the beards they wear;
The human face divine is lost in hair.
While thus the mind so well the body suits,
How wise to steal the livery of brutes!
You think a warrior shoves you from the wall;'Tis a meek creature, whom we prentice call,
Bewhisker'd like crusader, or a Turk,
In quick step marching homeward with his work,
A pair of breeches, or a flannel gown,
Looking the while as if he'd look you downPray don't be frighten'd, he'd not hurt a fly;
His business in the world is but to lie."
RULE 1. Next to whiskers, dress is all important to
the success of a young gentleman, at all places, especially  at the  Springs.   Not manners, but  tailors,
make the man in the present improved  state of the
world, and nothing is more certain than that success
in life mainly depends on the cut of the coat, the exuberance of the whiskers, and, above all, the tie of the
cravat.  We know  several young fellows, who have
carried off heiresses solely by virtue of preeminence
in this last item.




246      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
2. Be sure you pay no attention to that musty old
saw, about cutting your coat according to your cloth,
except it be to reverse the ignoble maxim, by cutting
it directly the contrary. N. B. For the cut of your
coat, and for the most approved attitudes, see the figures in the windows of the men-milliners in Broadway.
3. Never get any article of dress from  a cheap
tailor, for he will be sure to make you pay for it;
whereas a real fashionable, expensive tailor, always
charges his good customers extortionately, to pay for
his bad ones; for it would ruin him irretrievably, and
frighten half his customers to the uttermost ends of
the town, were he to be guilty of the ill-manners of
suing one of them.  He must never do this till he is
about leaving off business.
4. Never stop to inquire whether you want a new
coat, or whether you can pay for it. If the tailor
trusts you, good-it is at his own risk, and if you
don't pay him, somebody else must, after the manner
hinted at in the preceding rule.
5. If you happen to see a wretch coming down the
street, to whom you have been indebted three or four
years, you have only to stop short, consider a moment,
then turn suddenly around and trot off in a contrary
direction. People will take it for granted you have
forgot something.
6. Never pay any debts if you can help it, but
debts of honour: such as tavern-bills, and, generally,
all bills for superfluities. By the law of nature, man
has a claim on society for the necessaries of life, and
therefore is not bound to pay for them.
7. Never be deterred from going to the Springs by




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     247
any sordid motives of economy. All that is necessary
is to pay your way till you get there. Once there,
you have only to play at cards, pocketing your winnings and paying none of your losings, and it will
go hard if you don't create a fund for necessaries.
Failing in this, you have only to tell mine host, that
you have been disappointed in remittances, and are
going to Albany or New York to see about them.
Never mind his blank looks, he won't dare to arrest
you, for fear of losing one half of his lodgers, who
would not fail to resent such an unfashionable procedure, not knowing how soon their turn might come,
if such unheard-of enormities were tolerated in fashionable society.
8. Never pay any attention to the ladies, and they
will be sure to pay attention to you: that is, if you
have plenty of whiskers; plenty of cravats, and know
how to tie them; plenty of coats; a curricle, or gig
and tandem; and look grim. N. B. Heiresses are excepted; they expect to be sought after.
9. It is needless to caution you to avoid the desperate imprudence of falling in love with a lady who is
poor in every thing except merit. Nobody commits
such a folly nowadays, especially since the vast improvement in taste, and the prodigious advances made
by the spirit of the age. Formerly, in the days of
outer darkness, "when Adam delv'd and Eve span,"
poor people might marry without coming upon the
parish. But it would be the extreme of folly to do it
now, when it is impossible to fit out a wife of the
least pretensions, for a walk in Broadway, under a sum
that in those miserable days of delving and spinning
would have purchased independence for life. Since




248     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the age of paper-money, brokers, speculating, and
breaking, and ever since the great encouragement of
"domestic industry," women of decency never spin
any thing but "street-yarn," a fashionable article,
which has all the fashionable requisites to recommend
it, being entirely useless. What would be the fate of
an unfortunate youth, who is without a penny, and
without the means or arts to gain one, who should
marry a young lady who possesses but one single
art, that of spending thousands? How would he get
a three-story house with folding doors and marble
mantel-pieces? how would he obtain the means of
purchasing hats, at fifty dollars-pelisses, at a hundred   veils, at twice as much   and shawls, at ten
times?  How would he be able to keep a carriage,
give parties, and drink Bingham, or Nabob, or Billy
Ludlow? Without these things, what man or woman
not quite insane will marry? And, then, the children!
How are they to be furnished with artificial curls,
and necklaces, and bracelets, and ear-rings, and pink
hats of immeasurable size, and silken hose, and ruffles,
and laces, and made to look like Lilliputian ladies?
How are they to be taught the art of arts, the art
worth all the arts, the indispensable art of spending
money, unless there is money to spend?  We know
of but one way, and that is by running in debt and
getting whitewashed. This can't be done above eight
or ten times, without people beginning to grow shy
of trusting you for any sum that will make it worth
while to go into the limits. It is, however, hoped,
that the wishes of the philanthropists will soon be
realized, by the passage of a law to do away with this
inhuman necessity; and that the time is not far dis



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       249
tant, when the march of mind and the spirit of the
age will lead to so pleasing a condition of things, that
people may indulge in all the luxuries of life without
money, and borrow, without the disagreeable alternative of paying or going into retirement. Then everybody will be rich —then every-body can reside in a
three-story house with folding doors and marble mantel-pieces, give parties, live luxuriously, get the dyspepsia as well as messieurs the brokers, run in debt
without the necessity of running away, get married,
be happy, and dress his little girls as fine as a fiddle
for a walk in Broadway!  Until then, however, we
repeat our caution not to marry any body that labours
under even the suspicion of being poor, the worst of
all possible disasters for a young lady, being enough
to ruin her reputation past all recovery. Until then,
the young gentlemen must be content with looking all
the horrors of bachelorism in the face; and the young
ladies riot in the anticipations of single blessedness,
which, melancholy as it may be, is better than living
in a house without folding doors and marble mantelpieces, and giving no balls. While the old gentleman
lives, he must work, and shave, and speculate, and
turn his pennies ten times a day, to keep the young
ladies in the costume becoming the march of mind
and the spirit of the age; and when he fails, or dies,
they must trust to providence and the orphan societies.
There is but one remedy for all this, and it is ten times
worse than the disease -economy. As it is, bachelors
will multiply prodigiously, marrying for love will go
out of fashion, and there will not be a sufficiency of
apes in all Africa, to supply the place of the dandies
of this life, in the life to come.




250      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
10. After singling out the lady who possesses the
needful, to wit, not less than a hundred thousand,
it behooves the young gentleman to be particularly
attentive to the- mother- if the young lady unfortunately has one at the Springs. Daughters are all
so dutiful, that they never reject the recommendation
of their parents in cases of this kind, especially if
they threaten to disinherit them. He must be always
on the alert; dip water for her, offer his arm, sit next
her at table, run down all the rest of the married
ladies, praise the daughter for looking so like the
mother, perfume his whiskers, and take every opportunity of looking at the young lady tenderly, at the
same time playing with his watch-chain, if he has
one, or, in default, fiddling with his cravat -there is
nothing like suiting the action to the look. He must
be pensive, abstracted, and distracted; affect solitude,
and drink enormously- we mean of the waters. He
must wander in the woods, lose his appetite in public
and make it up in private, bite his thumbs, chew his
lips, knit his eyebrows, and grow as pale as he possibly can. Should all this fail, if he can afford it he
must give a ball, or a collation, or a party on the
lake, and upset the boat on purpose to have an opportunity of saving the lady's life. If even all these fail,
he must resort to the desperate expedient of the hero
who gave name to the famous rock, of eternal memory, near Ballston, known, and ever to be known, by
the appellation of the LOVER'S RocK. The story is as
follows, on the best possible authority.
A  young gentleman of good family, who could
look back at least two generations without tracing his
pedigree to a cobbler, or a shaver-we don't mean




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       251
a barber -but whose fortune was in an inverse ratio
to his birth, having the good-luck to raise the wind by
a timely hit, visited the Springs in a gig and tandem.
He had received the best education the country could
afford; that is, he had learned enough Greek, and
Latin, and natural philosophy, and mathematics, to
forget it all in a year after leaving college. He had
learned a profession which he did not practise, and he
practised many things which he did not learn from
his profession. He had a vast many wants without
the means of supplying them, and professed as lofty
a contempt for all useful occupations, as if he had
been rich enough to pass for a fool. He was always
well-dressed, well-mounted, and well-received, on the
score of these recommendations added to that of his
ancient descent; for, as we said before, he could trace
back to a great-grandfather, whom nobody knew any
thing about, so nobody could deny his having been a
gentleman. Nothing is so clear a demonstration of
ancient descent as the utter obscurity of the origin
of a family.
Be this as it may; our hero was excessively fond of
style, good living, and gentlemanly indulgences of all
sorts; but his taste was cramped by the want of the
one thing needful.'Tis true, he got credit sometimes;
but his genius was consequently rebuked by frequent
dunnings of certain importunate people, who had the
impudence to want their money sometimes. If it
were not for this, living upon credit would be the
happiest of all possible modes of life, except that of
a beggar, which we consider surpassingly superlative.
Beggars are the true patricians of the earth; they
form the only privileged class, the real aristocracy of




252      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the land   they pay no taxes, obey no laws —they
toil not, neither do they spin - serve not as jurymen,
firemen, or militia-men- work not on the highways
- have no country to serve, nor family to maintainare not obliged to wash their hands and faces, or comb
their hair every morning —fear nothing but the poorhouse —love nothing so well as lying, except drinking -and eat what they please in Lent. In short, as
the old song says:Each city, each town, and every village,
Affords us either an alms or pillage;
And if the weather be cold and raw,
Then in the barn we tumble in straw;
If warm and fair, by yea-cock and nay-cock,
The fields will afford us a hedge or a hay-cock -
A hay-cock- a hay-cock -and hay-cock-" &c.
Truly, it is a noble vocation; and nothing can afford
a clearer proof of the march of mind and the improved spirit of the age than the multiplication and
daily increase of this wise order of beggars, who have
the good sense to know the difference between living
by the sweat of their own brows and that of other
people.  Next to the wisdom of begging, is that of
borrowing-or, as the cant phrase is, living upon
tick.
The outward man of our hero was well to look at,
especially as it was always clothed in the habiliments
of fashion. He was tall, straight, stiff, and stately;
his head resembled the classical model of a mop; and
his whiskers would have delighted the good Lady
Baussiere. The ladies approved of him; and, if he
had only been able to achieve a three-story house in
Hudson Square or Broadway, with mahogany folding
doors and marble mantel-pieces, together with certain




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        253
accompaniments of mirrors, sofas, pier-tables, carpets,
&c., it was the general opinion that he might have
carried a first-rate belle. But, alas! without these,
what is man?  Our hero felt this at every step, and
his spirit rose manfully against the injustice of the
world. At one time, he had actually resolved to devote
himself to his profession, and, by persevering attention, amass a fortune that would supply the place of
all the cardinal virtues. But the seductions of Broadway, and the soirees, and the sweet pretty belles with
their big bonnets and bishops —there was no resisting them; and our hero abandoned his profession in
despair. Finding he could not withstand the allurements of pleasure, he resolved within himself to kill
two birds with one stone as it were - that is, to join
profit and pleasure- and, while he was sporting the
butterfly in Broadway, to have an eye to securing
the main chance- a rich wife.
In pursuance of this gallant resolution, he made
demonstrations towards every real or reputed heiress
that fell in his way. Every Jack has his Gill —if
one won't, another will —what's one man's meat, is
another man's poison-there is no accounting for
tastes  and he who never gets tired will come to
the end of his journey at last- quoth our hero, and
continued to persevere in the midst of continual disappointments.  He might have succeeded in some instances, but for the sleepless vigilance of the mammas,
who justly thought, that, having brought up their
daughters to nothing but spending money, the least
they could do was to provide them with rich husbands.
Either the pursuit itself, or the frequent failures of
our hero in running down his game, began to lower




254     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
him in the estimation of the world -that is, the little
world in which he flourished. Success only can sanctify any undertaking; and a thriving highwayman,
or prosperous rogue, is often more admired than an
unlucky dog who has nothing but his blundering honesty to recommend him. Besides, there is, we know
not for what reason, a prejudice against gentlemen
who pursue fortune in the shape of a young lady of a
hundred thousand charms, -we mean, dollars. Men
obtain a maintenance by divers means; some by handicraft trades- some by shaving beards, and some by
shaving notes-some by long voyages, and others
by perilous journeys on land. They spend the best
part of their lives in these pursuits, and, at last, when
worn with care, hardships, and anxieties, sit down in
their old age, to nourish their infirmities, and pamper their appetites with luxuries that carry death in
their train. Now, we would ask, is it not better to
seize fortune by a coup-de-main and achieve an heiress
off-hand, than to chase her all our lives, and only be
in at our own death, instead of the death of our game?
The prejudice against fortune-hunters, as they are
called, is therefore unjust; and we advise all young
fellows of spirit to hunt away bravely, rather than
drudge through the desperate, lingering avenues of a
profession.
Be this as it may, our hero began to be held rather
cheap by the young ladies, who used to compare notes
and find out that he had made the same demonstrations towards some score or two of them. It is observed by deep philosophers, that the last thing men
or women will pardon in others is the fault of which
they are most guilty themselves.  All these pretty




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.    255
belle-butterflies had flirted with divers young men,
and intended to do it again; but they were exceedingly indignant at our hero, and turned their backs to
him on all public occasions.  Some ignoble spirits
would have sunk, in grovelling despair, into a profession, and have abandoned forever the pursuit of these
fatal beauties. But our hero was not the man to
give up. He mustered all his credit, and made a dead
and successful set at his tailor, who furnished him
with two full suits, the price of which that judicious
tradesman apportioned equally among his punctual
customers, who, he justly thought, ought to pay something for being in good credit. Our hero, moreover,
blew a desperate blast, and raised the wind for a gig
and tandem, which he obtained by means which have
puzzled us more than any phenomenon we ever witnessed. He did all this, and he triumphantly departed
for the Springs, where the fly-fisher's hook catches
many an inexperienced belle and beau, and where the
pretty rice-fed damsels of the south do congregate,
whose empire extends not only over the whole region
of beauty, but likewise over divers plantations of
cotton, and divers scores of gentlemen, both of colour
and no colour.
The arrival of our hero at the Springs occasioned
quite a sensation. The young ladies inquired who he
was, and their mammas what he was worth. The
answer to this latter question was by no means satisfactory; although nothing absolutely certain could be
gathered for some time, as to the precise state of his
finances. Meanwhile he singled out a daughter of
the sun, of whom fame reported that she was heiress
to a rice-swamp and plantations of cotton, and feudal




256     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
lady over hundreds of serfs, who bowed to her sway
with absolute devotion. Our hero baited his hook,
and angled for the fair lady of the rice-swamp, with
more than the patience of a professor of what Isaac
Walton calls the " gentle craft." The young lady was
quite unknowing in the ways of bon-ton. She had
been bred in the country, where she studied romance
in books of religion, and religion in books of romance.
She had never run the gauntlet through a phalanx of
beaux, every one of whom gave her a wound; nor
had she lost the sweetest inheritance of a woman —
that willing, wilful credulity, which almost loves to be
deluded, and which had rather be deceived into a conviction of worth than be obliged to believe it has been
deceived. She was, in truth, deplorably unsophisticated in the ways of men and of the world. She did
not even dream that money was actually necessary to
supply our wants, much less did it enter into her innocent fancy that it was utterly impossible to be married, at present, without the indispensable adjuncts
of mahogany folding doors and marble mantel-pieces,
silver forks, satin curtains, Brussels carpets, and all
those things which constitute the happiness of this
life. In short, she had no tournure at all, and was
moreover a little blue, having somehow imbibed a notion, that no man was worth a lady's eye unless he
was distinguished by something of some sort or other
she hardly knew what. It never entered her head
and why should it?, for this is the result of experience alone —it never entered her head, that good
sense, a good heart, and a good disposition, were far
more important ingredients in the composition of
wedded bliss, than a pretty turn for poetry, or a
decided vocation to the fine arts.




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      257
But her lady-mother, under whose guardian wing
our heroine now  first expanded her pinions, was
another sort of "animal," as the polite Johnnies say
of a woman. She was perfectly familiar with the
elements necessary to the proper constitution of a
rational wedding. None knew better than herself,
that money only becomes the brighter for wearing,
and that a vast many other things especially esteemed
by inexperienced young ladies, not only lose their
lustre and value, but actually wear out entirely in the
course of time.  Experience had taught her, that
Cupid was only the divinity of youth, whereas honest
Plutus never lost his attractions, but only fascinated
his votaries the more strongly as they grew in age and
wisdom. In short, she had a great contempt for
merit, and a much greater veneration for money.
Moved by these opposing influences, it is little to
be wondered at if the old lady and the young one
drew  different ways.  Our hero made daily progress with the daughter, but greater leeway with
the mother.  The old lady watched him  closely,
and always had something particular to say to her
daughter, whenever he occupied her attention for a
moment.  She could not stir a step without the
young lady, and grew so weak and infirm, that at
length she could not walk across the room without
the aid of her arm. Our hero entered the lists in the
art of mining and countermining, but he was no
match for the dowager, who, though she had but two
eyes, and those none of the brightest, saw all that
Argus could have seen with his fifty pairs.  The
opposition of currents is sure to raise the froth; and
opposition in love hath the same effect on the imagi17




258      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
nation, which is Cupid's prime-minister, if not Cupid
himself.
In this way things went on.  Our hero was in the
situation of a general with two frontiers to defend,
and lost ground on one as fast as he gained it on the
other. With the young lady he was better than well;
with the old one, worse than bad. About this time,
another pretender entered the lists against our hero,
equally well-dressed, equal in whiskers, equal in intrepidity, and equally in want of the sine qua non. A
rival is sure to bring matters to a crisis, except in the
case of a young lady who knows and properly estimates the exquisite delights of flirtation.. The good
mother saw, pretty clearly, that this new candidate
would infallibly, by the force of repulsion, drive her
daughter to the opposite side - that is, into the arms
of our hero. She therefore cut the matter short at
once, and forbade the young lady to speak, walk, sit,
ride, or exchange looks, with our hero. The young
lady obeyed, except as to the last injunction; and, if
the truth must be told, made up in looks for every
thing else. The old lady saw it would not do, and,
forthwith sending for our hero, peremptorily dismissed
him, with the assurance that her daughter should
never marry him - that if she did, she would never
see or speak to her more, but hold her alien to her
heart forever. She then quitted our hero with tears
in her eyes, leaving him with his eyes wide open.
He took his hat and stick; paid his bill -no, I am
wrong, he did not pay his bill - and, casting a look
at the window of his " ladye love " that cracked six
panes of glass, proceeded in a fit of desperation to
the rock then without a name, but now immortalized




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       259
as the, Lovers' Rock. This crag frowns tremendously,
as all crags do, and hangs in lowering majesty over
the stream of Kayaderosseras - a name in itself sufficient to indicate the presence of something extraordinary, if not actually terrible.  On arriving at this
gloomy, savage, wild, and dreary spot, our hero took
out a pocket-glass and adjusted his whiskers to the
nicety of a hair.  He then deliberately drew forth
his penknife with a pearl handle and silver springs,
and cleaned his nails.  After this he pulled up his
neck-cloth five or six times, and shook his head manfully; then he took off his coat, folded it up carefully,
laid it down, took it up, kissed it, and shed some
bitter tears over this object of his dearest cares: then,
after a solemn and affecting pause, he tied a white
pocket-handkerchief about his head, cast his eyes
upwards, clasped his hands, took one farewell look at
himself in the pocket-glass, and, dashing it into a
thousand pieces, rushed furiously to the edge of the
precipice. There, turning a somerset by mistake backwards, he fell flat on his bishops, on the hard rock,
where he lay motionless for some time - doubtless as
much surprised as was poor Gloucester, when he
threw himself as he supposed from  Dover Cliff, to
find that he was not dead. The truth is, our hero
could hardly believe himself alive; until at length
he recognized, to his utter surprise and disappointment, that he had committed an egregious blunder, in
throwing himself down on the top, instead of the
bottom, of the rock.
He determined, in his own mind, to do the thing
better next time, and was preparing to avoid a similar
error, when, through.the dim, enticing obscurity of




260      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
the pine grove, he thought he saw a sylph-like figure,
gliding - (not walking) - swiftly in the direction of
the rock. He gazed again, and it assumed the port
of a mortal woman. A little nearer, and it emerged
from the glossy, silver foliage, in the form of the
sovereign lady of his heart, the mistress of the riceswamp. She had seen him depart with frenzy in his
eye; she had heard from her mother of his summary
dismissal; and had no doubt he had gone to that rock,
where erewhile they had looked unutterable things, to
kill himself as dead as a stone. Taking advantage of
the interregnum of a nap, she escaped the maternal
guardianship, and followed him at a distance. She
had seen his preparations for self-immolation; she had
seen the pathetic farewell between him and himself,
the tying of the handkerchief, the pulling-off of the
coat, the wringing of the hands, the rush towards the
edge of the rock; and she had seen him disappear,
just as, with a shriek which he heard not, she had
fallen insensible to the ground. When she came to
herself, and recalled what she had seen, she determined to follow her lover to the rock, and throw herself
down after him, in the bitterness of her despair. But
what can express her delight, when, on arriving at the
fatal spot, she saw her true lover running towards her,
apparently as well as ever he was in his life! An explanation took place, which was followed by words of
sweet consolation on the part of the lady.
"I swear," said she, "by the genius which inhabits
this rock, by the nymphs which sport in this babbling
brook, by the dryads and hamadryads that live in
these hollow pines, that I will not obey my cruel
mother. I will marry thee, and, should my obdurate




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       261
parent disinherit me and send me forth to beggary, I
will share it with thee.  Let her disinherit me if she
will; what is fortune - what is -"
" Dis - dis - disin - disinherit, did you  say?"
interrupted our hero, staring in wild astonishment.
" Yes, disinherit," replied the young lady, enthusiastically; "I will brave disinheritance, poverty, exile,
want, neglect, contempt, remorse, despair, death, all
for you, so you don't kill yourself again."
"Dis - dis - disin - disinherit," repeated our hero,
in a state of increasing perturbation: "pov-, ex-,
wa-, neg-, con-, re-, des-, death! Why, what
is all this, angel of my immortal soul?"
"0 don't take on so - don't take on so, my own
dear heart: I swear again, and again, a hundred, ay,
ten hundred thousand million times, that I don't care
if my mother cuts me off with a shilling- "
" Cut - cut - off- shilling - why, I thought -
that is — I understood- that is, I was assured that
-that -you had a fortune in your own right."
" No, not a penny, thank heaven; I can now show
you the extent of my love, by sacrificing fortuneevery thing for you. I'll follow you in beggary through
the world."
" Ill be damned if you will," our hero was just
going to say; but checked himself, and cried out in
accents of despair -" And you have no fortune of
your own?"
"No, thank heaven! 
" No rice-swamps?"
"No, thank heaven!"
No cotton plantations?"
" No, thank heaven! "




262      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
"No uplands, nor lowlands, nor sea-island, nor
long-staple, nor short-staple? "
"No, thank heaven!"
"Nor crops of corn?"
"No, thank heaven!"
"Nor neg —I mean gentlemen of colour? "
Not one, thank heaven!"
"And you are entirely dependent on your mother? "
"Yes; and she has sworn to disinherit me if I
marry you, thank heaven! You have now an opportunity of showing the disinterestedness of your affection."
"Our hero started up in a tumult of distraction -
he rushed madly and impetuously to the edge of the
precipice, and, avoiding a mistake similar to that he
had just committed, threw himself headlong down
into the terrible torrent with the terrible name, and
floated none knew whither, for his body was never
found. The young lady was turned into stone
don't be. alarmed, gentle reader- only for a few minutes.. These past, she bethought herself of following
her lover; then, she bethought herself of considering
the matter; and, finally, she fell into an inexplicable
perplexity, as to what could have got into our hero, to
drown himself in despair at the very moment she was
promising to make him the happiest of men. She
determined to live till she had solved this doubt,
which, by the way, she never could do to the end of
her life; and she died without being able to tell what.it was that made her lover make away with himself at
such an improper time. As for the rest, the landlord
and the man-mercer, like the " devil and the king " in
the affair of Sir Balaam, divided the prize; one taking




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       263
the gig, the other the tandem. From that time the
place has gone by the name of the LOVER'S ROCK, and
not a true lover, or true-hearted lady, ever visits the
Springs without spending many an hour of sentimental luxury on the spot where our hero could not survive the anguish of even anticipating that he should
cause the lady of his heart to be disinherited for love
of him.
CHAPTER VIII.
OF THE BEHAVIOUR PROPER FOR ELDERLY SINGLE GENTLEMEN AT THE
SPRINGS.
IN days of yore, before the march of mind and the
improvements in style and dress which distinguish
the present happy age, old bachelors deserved no
mercy, unless they came under the class of disappointed lovers, or proved to the satisfaction of the
world, "they would if they could."  But now, unless
a man is born rich, he can't afford to marry till he
grows rich, and in becoming so he is very apt to grow
old.  Hence the number of bachelors is sure to increase with the progress of refinement, which mainly
consists in the invention or. adoption of new modes
of dress, new-fashioned furniture,. and new ways of
spending money. Bachelors have, for these reasons,
become of late sufficiently numerous to constitute a
class by themselves, and to merit a code designed
especially for their use and government. At the same
time we premise that, all things considered, we are of




264      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
opinion that, since it is indecent for a man of any
pretensions to get married until he can afford to live
in a three-story house with mahogany folding doors
and marble mantel-pieces, he ought not to be classed
with old bachelors, till it can be proved he has been
five years rich enough for matrimony, or till he is
fully convicted of threescore, when he must give in,
and take his place in the corps.
1. Bachelors, or, more politely, single gentlemen of
a certain age, ought never to marry any but very
young, sprightly belles, of the first fashion and pretensions. The true foundation of mutual affection is in
the attraction, not of affinity, but of contrast. This
contrast is perfect between a gentleman of fifty and
a young lady of sixteen, and nothing can come of such
a union but mutual love and perfect obedience on the
part of the lady, who, ten to one, will look up to him
as a father.
2. Single gentlemen of a certain age, who are rich
enough to afford a curricle, together with a three-story
house with folding doors and marble mantel-pieces,
need not be under any apprehensions of being rejected
by a young lady, brought up as she ought to be, with
a proper insight into the relative value of men and
things. But they should not be more than ten years
making up their minds, remembering the fowler, who
was so long taking aim that the bird flew away before
he drew the trigger.
3. Single gentlemen of a certain age should never
play a double part, or sport with the hearts of inexperienced young ladies.
4. Single gentlemen of a certain age should beware
of the widowers, who are always in a hurry.  We




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      265
have known a bachelor cut out by a brisk widower,
before he knew where he was.
5. Single gentlemen of a certain age should never
plead guilty to the least ache or pain, except growing
pains. They should never remember any thing that
happened more than ten years back. To recollect
past times is a melancholy proof of old age.
6. Single gentlemen of a certain age should never
attempt a cotillon, or try to cut a caper, except they
are sure of going through with it. If they are once
laughed at in public, it is all over with them. They
had better be poor.
7. Single gentlemen of a certain age should beware
how they " buck up" to widows, unless they have previously brought themselves, as Lady Macbeth (who
was undoubtedly a widow when Macbeth married
her) says, " to the sticking place," that is, to the resolution of committing matrimony at a moment's warning. Your widows, if they mean to marry again at
all, never like to linger on the funeral pyre of a bachelor's indecision.
8. Single gentlemen of a certain age should never
marry, except they have proof positive of the disinterested affection of the young lady. In order to ascertain this, it would be well to circulate a rumour of
great losses, or actual bankruptcy, and put down the
equipage.
9. Single gentlemen of a certain age ought never to
have more than two ladies in prospect at one time -
one for each eye -else they may chance to lose both.
The prevailing offence of bachelors is that of ill-bred
pointers: you cannot bring them  to a dead point,
although they will be popping their noses everywhere.




266     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
10. Single gentlemen of a certain age, being always
young, should never keep company with old people,
for fear the stale proverb, about birds of a feather,
should be fired at their heads. They should now and
then commit a gentlemanly excess, such as drinking
six bottles at a sitting, or playing cards all night,
though it might be expedient not to appear in public
till the effects are gone off. An old field is not easily
renovated.
11. Single gentlemen of a certain age, who are wellto-do in the world, when inspired with a desire to
appropriate young ladies, ought to make the first advances to the mothers. The latter know the value of
money better than the former, and a well-bred daughter will think it indelicate to pretend to know any
difference between one man and another, except as
respects his fortune. For, as the great poet says,
"worth makes the man," that is, the money he is
worth.
12. Single gentlemen of a certain age   (which
phrase we ought before this to have explained, as
indicating gentlemen whose ages are altogether uncertain) - ought never to deceive the young ladies in
any thing but their years and their money. A desire
to appear young and to be thought rich is so natural
and amiable, that none but a cynic would ascribe it
to a bad motive.
13. Very old single gentlemen of a certain age should
be careful how they marry in the month of January,
for reasons which shall be nameless; or in February, for reasons which will readily present themselves;
or in March, for reasons we do not think proper to
specify; or in April, for reasons best known to our



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.        267
selves; or in May, for reasons of the first magnitude;
or in June, for reasons which cannot be obviated;
or in July, for reasons which no one will venture to
to controvert; or in August, for reasons which every
body will understand; or in September, for reasons
which to be ignorant of would impeach the reader's
understanding; or in October, for reasons highly appropriate; or in November, for reasons deep and
profound; or in December, for reasons as plain as the
nose on our face.  There are, moreover, seven days
of the week on which very old single gentlemen of a
certain age ought not to think of being married.
Monday, because that is washing-day.  Tuesday, or
Twosday as it was originally written, because it suggests that, " man and wife will be two ", before the
end of the week. Wednesday, or Wedding-day, as is
the true orthography, for that is generally the day of
all others an old single gentleman of a certain age
recollects with the least satisfaction. Thursday, or
Thorsday, because it was christened after the Pagan
deity, Thor, and marriage is a Christian ceremony.
Friday, because it is hanging-day, and he might be
tempted to turn himself off.  Saturday, because that
is too far from the middle of the week.  Above all,
Sunday, for that is dies non, and no moneyed transactions, or purchases and sales, are lawful on that day.
Any other day in the week, it is perfectly safe for them
to marry.




268       THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
CHAPTER IX.
OF MATRIMONY, AND OF THE BEST MODE OF INSURING HAPPINESS IN
THE STATE, BY A DISCREET CHOICE OF A HELPMATE.
IN the present improved system  of society, when
the young ladies wear spatterdashes and the young
gentlemen corsets, money is absolutely essential to the
patient endurance of the married state.  The choice
of a rich husband or wife supersedes, therefore, the
necessity of all rules, as wealth secures to the successful adventurer all the happiness this world can give,
so long as it lasts. But as every one is not so fortunate as to achieve a rich heir or heiress, the following
hints may enable even the tyro to make a choice that
will in some measure supply the absence of cash.
1. Beauty is a principal ingredient of happiness in
the married state, and it is scarcely ever observed that
a handsome couple is otherwise than truly happy. If
it be objected that beauty is but a fading flower, we
answer, that, when it is faded, all that the parties have
to do is to think each other beautiful. If such an
effort of the imagination is beyond them, they must
do the best they can, and admire each other for their
good qualities.
2. Next in value to beauty is the capacity of cutting a dash at all public places, by dressing well,
dancing well, and making one's self agreeable to
every-body.  Nobody, except the person that has experienced it, can conceive the happiness of having
one's wife, or husband, admired by all the world. As
to how people conduct themselves in private, and in
the domestic tete-a-tete, that is a matter of very little




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       269
consequence, so long as they have sufficient discretion
to keep their own secrets, and sufficient good-breeding not to quarrel before the public.
3. As nothing is so outrageously vulgar as the idea
of not spending money because one has not got it to
spend, the next best thing to having a rich or handsome wife is having a wife that knows how to feign
a fortune. This is an infallible proof of high-breeding,
and great cleverness withal. Any fool can make a
figure with money, but to make an equal figure without it is an invaluable qualification in a wife.
4. Never marry any body you have ever heard or
seen laughed at by people of fashion, unless he or she
is rich; nor any body who does not always follow the
recent fashions in every thing. A bonnet or a coat out
of fashion infallibly degrades people from their station
in society, whether they are young or old, and a person that leads the ton is almost an equal prize with
an heiress or a beauty.
5. Never marry a lady who appears unconscious of
her beauty or accomplishments, except she is an heiress; for this presupposes a degree of blindness and
stupidity truly deplorable. How can you expect a
woman to see the good qualities of her husband, when
she is blind to her own?
6. Never marry a woman of prudence, good-sense,
good-temper, and piety, excepting always she is rich;
for, if you happen to turn out an indifferent husband,
all the world will blame you: whereas if she be as
bad as, or worse than, yourself, you will have the best
possible excuse.
7. Never marry a woman who is particularly retiring in her disposition and habits. This bespeaks




270      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
shyness, and shyness indicates slyness, and slyness,
hypocrisy.  Your bold-faced, harum-scarum women,
who show all, and disguise nothing, are the best.
There is no deception about them, and it is a proof
that they have nothing to hide, when they hide nothing. Ladies that eat nothing in public generally
make it up in the pantry, and, to quote a saying fashionable at Almack's, " The still sow ", &c. &c.
8. Beware of that terrible monster, a woman that
affects to have a will of her own before marriage, and
to act up to certain old-fashioned notions of propriety
and decorum; one who refuses to make herself ridiculous, despite of the fashion; who will not waltz in
public with a perfect stranger, despite of the fashion;
who will not flirt with any-body that comes in her
way, despite of the fashion'; and who absolutely refuses to act and look like a fool, though every body
else sets her the example. Such a woman will trouble
you exceedingly, and, ten to one, never let you rest till
you become as preposterous as herself.
9. Beware also of a woman who had rather stay
at home and read Paradise Lost, than walk up and
down the Paradise of Broadway in a high wind and
a cloud of dust, holding her hat with one hand,
and her cloak with the other. Such a woman decidedly prefers exercise of mind to exercise of limbs, and
will never make a good waltzer.
10. Beware of blue-stockings, for they are abroad.
11. Beware of bishops and hoop-petticoats, for they
are abroad.
12. Beware —we now address ourselves particularly to the ladies - beware of all men that aspire to
be useful in their generation, except they be rich; be



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     271
ware of all men who look as if nature had any hand
in their composition, except they be rich; beware of
all that aspire to be better and wiser than their neighbours, except they be rich; beware of young lawyers,
who think of nothing but estates and entails; beware
of young physicians, whose knowledge of anatomy and
craniology enables them to dive into all your secrets;
beware of the young parsons in spectacles, who look
through and through your hearts; beware of all manner of men who look at bills before paying them;
beware of all sorts of handicraft men, except Monsieur
Manuel, the barber, and Monsieur Simon, the cook;
and, above all, beware of your stiff, starched fellows
that aspire to the cardinal virtues, for that smacks of
Popery.
We had thoughts of following up these rules for
entering the happy state of matrimony, with some
general directions for preserving harmony after marriage. But, upon the whole, it is scarcely worth
while. The great thing, after all, is to be fairly and
honestly married, and what happens afterwards is of
minor consequence. If you have money, you cannot
be otherwise than happy; if you have beauty, fashion
and good dancing, it is your own fault if you are not
happy; and if you have none of these, you have no
right to expect happiness. If you are only contented
and comfortable, that is all you can hope for in this
world, without riches, beauty, or fashion; and that is
morethan you deserve for marrying only a discreet,
prudent, sensible, amiable, tolerable-looking dowdy of
a man or woman. We shall therefore conclude this
portion of our undertaking, by cordially wishing all




272      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
our fashionable readers, well, that is, richly, married
-a wish which includes all sublunary blessings.
CHAPTER X.
OF THE BEST MODES OF KILLING THE GRAND ENEMY OF THE FASHIONABLE HUMAN RACE, WHO HAVE NOTHING TO DO IN THIS WORLDBUT TO BE HAPPY.
OF all the various modes and inventions devised
since the creation of the world, for passing the time,
none can compare with EATING; and nothing appears
wanting to human happiness, but the capacity of eating on without stopping, from the cradle to the grave.
But, alas!, people cannot gormandize forever! and all
they can do, after one meal, is to anticipate the delights of another.  When we can feed no more, the
best possible substitute is to think of feeding. Such
are the glorious effects of the waters at the springs,
that they would constitute the best substitute for Nectar, or Bingham, or Nabob, to be found upon this
earth, if the good things to be eaten were only in proportion to our appetite to eat them. But, alas! truth
obliges us to confess, this is not the case. No canvasbacks, no oysters, no turtle, but will cloy at last!no Goose and Gridiron, no Droze, no Pardessus, no
Sykes, can stimulate the appetite for ever! - Nay, no
Niblo, high-priest and caterer of the gourmands of
New York! Here we would say, caterer of the gods
themselves, were we not of opinion that they knew
little of the importance of the grand science, as appears from  their omitting to ennoble one of their




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       273
number, by installing him god of eating, and thus
placing him above the great Bacchus himself. But,
on second thoughts, this might have arisen from the
jealousy of Jove, who doubtless foresaw that such a
deity would monopolize the incense of mankind, and
leave his shrine without a votary.
Well, therefore, might the great philosopher lay it
down as the grand secret of human happiness, that
" we should live to eat, and not eat to live," since in
this is contained the true secret of the summum bonum,
which so puzzled all antiquity. Previous to those
prodigious steps in the march of mind, which have
ennobled the present age beyond all others that preceded or that will succeed it, the gentler sex were
unhappily precluded, in some degree, from  eating
more than was absolutely necessary. Nay, some of
the most approved models of heroines of romance, so
far as we are without any authority from the authors
of these works to the contrary, never ate at all. It
used to be considered indelicate for women of fashion
to eat as if they cared any thing about it; and there
is good authority for saying, that a great match was
once broken off, in consequence of the lady being detected by her lover in eating raw oysters. But the
world, of late years, grows wiser much faster than it
grows older —thanks be to the steam-engines for it!
The interdict against female eating is withdrawn, and
it does one's heart good to see how the ladies enjoy
themselves at the Springs, and at parties in town.
They eat like so many beautiful little pigeons, till their
beautiful little craws seem, as if they might, peradventure, burst their corsets; and foul befall those egregious innovators, who, as we hear, are attempting to
18




274      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
revive the fashion of giving soirees, without the accompaniments of oysters, porter, and champagne. May
they be condemned to sponge-cake and lemonade all
their lives, and be "at home" to nobody, till they
learn how to treat their friends.
One of the phenomena which has puzzled us more
than almost any thing in this world is, that people
who meet together solely for pleasure should ever get
tired of themselves or their company. But so it is;
those who live only for amusement, more than any
other class, find time hanging on their hands. Hence
it is that rich and fashionable people are so frequently
dull, out of humour, and splenetic; while the labouring classes, and those who ought in reason and
propriety to be miserable, enjoy an unaccountable
hilarity of spirits, and actually seem to crowd into
one hour more real enjoyment than a man of pleasure, whose sole business is to be happy, gathers in a
whole life of uninterrupted pursuit. How provoking
it is to see a miserable linsey-woolsey villain, without
a solitary requisite for comfort in high life, laughing,
and dancing, and revelling in an exuberance of spirits,
while a company of people of pleasure, who have
nothing to do but be happy, will sit enveloped in
gloom, dance as if they were following a funeral, and
laugh, if they laugh at all, with a melancholy indifference truly depressing. Is it possible that labour, or
at least employment of some kind, is necessary to the
enjoyment of ease, and to the vivacity of the animal
spirits? Certainly it would seem so. Nobody laughs
with such glee as the chimney-sweep, and the negro
slave of the south, whom we are always pitying; and
of all the grave people on the face of the earth, the




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      275
North-American Indian, who despises work, and lives
a life of indolence, is the gravest; while his wife,
who carries the burdens, cultivates the corn, and performs all the domestic labours, is observed to be gay
and cheerful. It is certainly passing strange, though
it would appear to be true, that the people we most
envy, namely the rich and the idle, enjoy the least of
life's sunshine, though they seem tobe always basking in it. The old Indian affirmed, that, among the
white men, "the hog was the only gentleman," for he
never worked, was fed upon the best corn, and at last
grew so fat he could not walk. Verily, the comparison is not far from odious; but there are, nevertheless,
certain mortifying points of resemblance between the
quadruped and the biped gentleman.
Be this as it may, such being the difficulty which
besets the hapless beings who in their chase of pleasure at length run it down at the Springs and know
not what to do with themselves afterwards, we hold
him a great public benefactor, equal to the father of
a canal or a rail-road or a cotton-manufactory, who
shall devise ways and means to rid these unfortunate
beings —unfortunate in having too much time and
money on their hands- at least of a portion of the
former. After much deep and intense cogitation, we
have devised a series of amusements, which, if followed up with proper industry, will seldom, if ever,
fail of the desired end.
The first and best preservative against ennui is falling in love. If you are successful, that cures all evils
for the time being; while, if otherwise, the disappointment is a specific for this disease, which  never
troubles people who have any thing else to trouble
them.




276     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
Dressing is no bad preventive, provided you are
long enough about it, and take a proper interest in
looking well. We have known a dishabille give a
tone of dejection for an entire day; and could tell
of more than one person, cured of a serious indisposition by resolutely getting up, changing his linen,
displaying a new suit, shaving his beard, and perfuming his whiskers. Many ladies also have been
rescued from profound melancholy, by putting on a
brilliant dress, with ear-rings and bracelets which
proved remarkably becoming. The oftener you dress,
the better; for, besides the manual exercise, the frequent change produces a corresponding succession of
ideas, and a consequent gentle exercise of the animal
spirits which is highly salutary. Gay colours are
best, as they make people look cheerful, which is the
next thing to being cheerful. After all, we are but
chameleons, and owe the colour of our minds to outward objects.
Gentlemen have a great resource in the readingroom, provided they have a literary turn, and are reduced to great extremity to pass the morning. We
recollect a literary character at the Springs, who
spent three hours over the newspapers every day, yet
could never tell the news, nor the day of the week.
Ladies must, however, be careful to read nothing but
romances, lest they should pass for blue-stockings,
which, among the fashionables, are considered synonymous with blue-devils.
Music and reading-parties are not bad in a rainy
day. A little music, provided it is not out of tune or
time, will while away the leaden hours of pleasure
wonderfully, when there are admiring beaux, who can




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.       277
relish pure Italian, to listen and applaud. Beware
however of di tanti palpiti, which is grown so common that the very sweeps whistle it while making their
way up chimney. When any thing gets so common
with the vulgar, it is beneath the notice or patronage
of people of fashion, however beautiful it may be.
The greatest, and at the same time the sole, objection
to eating, drinking, sleeping and breathing, is, that we
enjoy them in common with the brutes, and the vulgar who are little better. Moore's songs ought always to be preferred on these occasions, because they
are altogether sentimental, or sensual, which is quite
synonymous nowadays. Next to actual kissings, embracings, palpitations, honeyed meetings, and heartrending adieus, is the description of these things in
luscious verse, aided by the magic strains of melting
melody. It almost makes one feel as if really going
through these delightful evolutions. It is not worth
while to mind what stiff people, who affect decorum
of speech, say on the subject. There are many matters that may be sung, but not said. One may sing
about things which it would be thought rather critical
to talk about.
In respect to reading, it is much to be regretted
that we have nothing new of Lord Byron, but his helmet. This, we understand, is to be exhibited at the
Springs, the present season, provided it is not disposed of to a valiant militia officer, who is said to be
in treaty for the same. Formerly the literary society
of the Springs could calculate upon a new canto of
Don Juan every month, redolent with the inspiration
of misanthrophy and " gin and water;" * but now, at
* See Leigh Hunt's notice of Lord Byron's life and habits.




278     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
least with the exception of this present work, unless a
Waverley or a Cooper tumbles down from the summit of Parnassus, there is scarcely any thing worth
reading but Souvenirs, which unluckily appear so out
of season, that they are a hundred years old before
the spring, that is, the spring of fashionable life at the
Springs, arrives, with all the birds of passage in its
train. In this dilemma, the choice must be left to the
judgment of the party, with this solemn caution, to
select no work that is more than a month old.
People who are not addicted to deep studies may
manage to get through a long storm pretty tolerably,
by looking out at a window, and wondering when it
will clear off. A north-east storm of two or three
days is the most trying time; for, as nobody thinks
of a fire in summer though it be never so cold, the
votaries of pleasure have no other resource than
going to bed to keep themselves from an ague. Gentlemen who play have a never-failing panacea for all
vicissitudes of the weather, which pass unfelt and unnoticed, in the delightful excitement of winning and
losing. The best way to guard against these storms
is to shut the windows, lock the doors, light candles,
and turn day into night, as there are certain amusements which are only proper for darkness and obscurity.
In addition to these domestic enjoyments, pastime
may be found without doors in pleasant weather.
For example, there is the excursion to Saratoga Lakei
to ramble along its banks, or fish, or flirt, or do any
other fashionable thing. The water of the lake is so
pure and transparent, that people with tolerable eyes
may see their faces in it. Hence arises a great ad



THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.      279
vantage; for young persons, who don't care to contemplate any beauties but their own, may thus behold
them in the greatest perfection. More than one Narcissus hath admired himself there, and pined to death
for love of his own image; and many a fair and
unsuspecting damsel, that never saw herself in gilded
mirror, has here, for the first time, become conscious
of her charms. So vivid are the pictures thus displayed, and so true to nature, that a young fellow of
our intimate acquaintance, who had somewhat spoiled
a pair of good eyes by eternally squinting through
a glass because it was the fashion, once actually mistook the shadow of a young heiress in the lake for
the young heiress herself, and jumped in to save her
from drowning. The lady was so touched by this
gallant mistake, that she took the will for the deed,
and the young man into the bargain. N. B. The
fish are not worth the trouble of catching; but the men
that go there, are    sometimes: so with the ladies.
There are fine trout in Barheit's Pond, to which
there is a pleasant ride through the pine woods; at
least they say there are fine trout, if one could only
catch them with any thing but a silver hook. But
such is the staid allegiance of these loyal fishes, that
they will not suffer themselves to be hooked by any
body but their sovereign lord, the proprietor of the
waters. We ourselves have fished in this famous
pool, till a great spider came and wove his web, from
the tip of our nose to the tip-end of our fishing-rod,
and caught several flies. But we caught no fish, nor
would St. Anthony himself, we verily believe, had he
preached ever such sound doctrines. N. B. Mine host
may possibly bite, though the trout won't.




280     THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
For a longer excursion, seek the famous field of
Saratoga, on which the key-stone of the arch of our
independence was raised. There, six thousand English invaders laid down their arms, and there a pillar
ought to be erected to commemorate the triumph
of free soldiers. Lake George, the masterpiece of
nature, and Hadley's Falls, will richly repay a visit,
and charmingly occupy a day. There is also a pleasant ride, which we ourselves discovered, due North
of Saratoga, along an excellent road, skirted on one
hand by rich meadows, on the other by a rugged,
rocky hill, from which, ever and anon, pours down
a little brawling stream, that loses itself among the
high green grass of the lowland. Of a fine afternoon
towards sunset, when the slanting beams of the sun
leave the eastern side of the hills enveloped in cooling
shades, it is pleasant to ride along and taste the
charms of nature, after revelling in those of art at the
Springs. But what are we talking. about?    we have
forgotten ourselves. Such matters are unworthy our
book, and those to whom it is addressed.
Who indeed would waste his time in loitering about
these ignoble scenes, unsaid and unsung by names of
fashionable note, when he can walk back and forth on
the long piazzas at the Springs, where ladies bright
are sitting in the windows, ready to talk and be talked
to, to exchange smile for smile, and to accompany
any body in this charming promenade, if they are
only asked? And, as for the ladies, why should they,
when they can take a ride to Ballston if they are
at Saratoga, or to Saratoga if they are at Ballston,
all the way through the beautiful pine woods; show
off their airs-we mean graces; display their fash



THE NEW  MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.                 281
ionable dresses; spy into the enemy's camp at Sans
Souci or Congress Hall; criticise  rival belles, rival
houses, rival waters; and bring home matter for at
least one day's conversation? -which last is no trifling affair let us tell them.
We  have  mentioned  Sans  Souci and  Congress
Hall.  Dire is the hostility between these rival houses,
the Montagues and  Capulets of modern  days; dire
are the conflicts between the votaries of the diuretic
and  cathartic nymphs of the Springs; and dire the
scandals they utter of each other, when under the
influence of the inspiring draughts. Not rival cities,
such  as  Athens  and  Sparta, Rome  and  Carthage,
London and Paris, New  York and Philadelphia; not
rival belles, rival poets, rival reviews, rival players,
potentates, or politicians, ever breathed such defiances
as  Congress  Hall and  Sans  Souci.  As  sings the
prize-poet, -
"Not vast ACHILLE,* the greatest of the name,
(Not e'en excepting him of Grecian fame),
Not vast Achille, such pedal wars did wage
Against the mimic monarch of the stage,
Whom, with his hard invulnerable heel,
He laid all prostrate, quick as flint and steel;
Nor e'er did soda, iron, or fixed air,
So play the mischief with the rival fair," &c.
No vulgar mind  can possibly comprehend the exquisite excitement of this civil warfare of fashion, and
what a capital resource it is to the votaries of pleasure at the Springs, especially on a stormy day. In
[* Monsieur and Madame Achille, with other dancers, were imported by
Charles Gilfert, lessee and manager of the new (and first) Bowery theatre,
for the season of 1826-7, to compete with "the legitimate" drama under
"King Stephen" Price and Edward Simpson, at the Park. Achille was
ballet-master; and it appears that heels carried the day triumphantly over
heads.]




282      THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.
vain hath Professor Silliman essayed to neutralize
these conflicting and angry waters, by impartially
bearing testimony to the unequalled merits of both,
unknowing that there exist antipathies which are not
dreamt of in his chemistry. The war still rages, and
will continue to rage till Ballston and Saratoga, like
Babylon and Nineveh, are no more, and their sweet
waters, for the sins of the people, turned into Dead
Seas and lakes of sulphur.
It may however happen, since all things are possible in this wonderful age, that, notwithstanding all
these expedients, these varied and never-ending delights, people may be at last overtaken, even here, by
the fiend ennui, which seems to have been created on
purpose to confound the rich and happy.  In that
case, they may as well give up the pursuit of happiness at once, as desperate. There is nothing beyond
the SPRINGS; they are the ultima Thule of the fashionable world, and those who find not pleasure there
may as well die at once - or go home. In vain will
they toil on to " Old Ti," the Plains of Abraham, the
Falls of Montmorenci, and the Lord knows where 
in vain fly from Ballston to Saratoga, from Saratoga
to Ballston, from Ballston to Lebanon, from Lebanon
to Rockaway, and from Rockaway to Long Branch,
where they may have the satisfaction of bathing in
the same ocean with people of the first fashion. It is
all useless. Let them despair, and go home; and, as
a last forlorn hope, endeavour to find happiness in
administering to the welfare of those around them,
an expedient we have actually known to be successful
in more than one instance. Let the young ladies
devote themselves to working caps for a time of need;




THE NEW MIRROR FOR TRAVELLERS.     283
their mothers devote themselves to their household
gods; their husbands, to planting trees, breeding
merinos, and cultivating politics and ruta-bagas; the
brokers, to shaving closer than ever, to make up for
lost time; the dandy, to the limits; and his spruce
rival, the shop-keeper, to his counter. We have said.
And now, gentle tourist!, having conducted thee
safely, (and, we hope, pleasantly), to the sanctuary,
where if thou findest not happiness it is not our fault,
(since we have shown thee where she dwells and how
to woo her), we bid thee an affectionate farewell, cautioning thee, as a last proof of our solicitude for thy
welfare, not to go to Niagara, lest, peradventure, thou
shouldest fall into the hands of the " Morgan Committee."  Mayest thou -to include all in one consummate wish - mayest thou pass thy whole life in
travelling for pleasure, meeting with glorious entertainment by the way, and, at length, find peace and
repose at that inn where, sooner or later, all mankind
take up their last night's lodging.








THE
NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.








THE
NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.
IN a certain corner of The Bay State there once
stood, and we hope will continue to flourish long and
happily, a snug town, now promoted to be a city, the
name of which is not material to our purpose. Here,
in a great shingle palace, which would have been a
very comfortable edifice had it only been finished,
lived a reputable widow, well to do in the world, and
the happy mother of a promising lad, a wonderful
clever boy, as might be expected.  In fact, Shearjashub (that was his name) was no bad specimen of
the country lad. He was hardy, abstemious, independent, and cute withal; and, before he was a man
grown, made a great bargain once out of a travelling
merchant, a Scotchman, who chanced that way. Besides this, he was a mechanical genius; and, though
far from being lazy, delighted in the invention of
labour-saving machines, some of which were odd
enough.  He peeled all his mother's pumpkins by
water, and spun her flax with a windmill. Nay, it
was reported of him that he once invented a machine
for digging graves upon speculation, by which he
calculated he should certainly have made his fortune,




288       THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.
had not the people of the village all with one accord
taken it into their heads to live for ever. The name
of the family was Yankee, they having been the first
that had intercourse with the Indians, who called
them Yankee, because they could not say English.
The Widow Yankee was a right pious, meetinggoing woman, who held it to be a great want of faith
not to believe in everything; especially everything
out of the way and impossible. She was a special
amateur of demonology and witchcraft. Moreover,
she was gifted with a reasonable share of curiosity,
though it is recorded that once she came very near
missing to get at the bottom of a secret. The story
ran as follows:One day, as she was sitting at her window, which
had a happy aspect for overlooking the affairs of the
village, she saw a man of mysterious mien, with a
stick in his hand and a pipe in his mouth, walking
exactly three feet behind a white cow. The same
thing happened precisely at the same hour in the
same manner the next day, and so continued for some
time. The first week, the widow began to think it
rather odd; the second, she thought it quite strange;
the third, it became altogether incomprehensible; and
the fourth, the poor woman took to her bed, of the
disease of the man and the cow.
Doctor Calomel undertook the cure in a new and
original manner, to wit, without the use of medicine.
He wrought upon the mysterious cow-driver to come
to the widow's house, and tell her the whole secret
of the business. When he came into the room the
sick woman raised herself up, and in a faint voice
addressed him as follows:



THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.        289
"Inscrutable man! I conjure thee to tell me what
under the sun makes thee always follow that cow
about every day at the same hour, and at the same
distance from her tail?"
"Because the cow always goes before me ", replied
he.
Upon which the widow jumped out of her sick bed,
seized an old shoe, flung it at his head, and was miraculously cured from that moment. Doctor Calomel
got into great practice thereupon.
Shearjashub inherited a considerable share of his
mother's inquiring disposition, and was very inquisitive about the affairs of other people; but, to do him
justice, he took pretty good care to keep his own to
himself, like a discreet lad as he was. Having invented so many labour-saving machines, Jashub, as
he was usually called by the neighbours, thought it
was great nonsense to work, himself; so he set his
machines going, and took to the amusement of killing
time, which, in a country village, is no such easy
matter. It requires a considerable share of ingenuity.
His favourite mode of doing this was taking his gun
on his shoulder, and sallying forth into the fields and
woods, followed by a cur, whose genealogy was perfectly abstruse. Nobody could tell to what family he
belonged; though certain it was, that he was neither
"mongrel, puppy, whelp, nor hound," but a cur of
low degree, whose delight was to bask in the sun,
when he was not out with his young master.
In this way Jashub would pass day after day, in
what he called sporting; that is to say, toiling through
tangled woods and rough bog-meadows and swamps,
that quivered like a jelly at every step, and returning
19




290        THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.
home at night hungry as well as tired. Report said
that he never was known to shoot anything; and
thus far his time was spent innocently, if not improvingly.
One fast-day, early in the spring of 1776, Jashub
went forth as usual, with his gun on his shoulder,
and little Snap, (such was the name of the dog), at
his heels. The early May had put on all her charms;
a thousand little patches of wild violets were peeping
forth with deep blue eyes; a thousand, yea, tens of
thousands of buds were expanding into leaves, apace;
and crowds of chirping birds were singing a hymn to
ever-gracious Spring. Jashub could not find it in his
heart to fire at them; and if he had fired, there would
have been -no danger, except of frightening the little
warblers, and arresting their song.
Beguiled by the beauties of Nature and her charming music, Jashub almost unconsciously wandered on
until he came to the opening of a deep glen in the
mountain, which rose at some miles distance, west of
the village. It was formed by the passage of a pure
crystal stream, which, in the course of ages, or perhaps
by a single effort, had made a cleft in the mountain,
about twenty yards wide, ten of which were occupied
by the brook, which silently wound its way along the
base of steep and rocky precipices several hundred
feet high, that formed the barriers of the glen on either
side. These towering masses of gray eternity were
here and there green with the adventurous laurel,
which, fastening its roots in the crevices, nodded over
the dizzy steep; and at intervals a little spring stole
forth, high up among the lichen-covered rocks, and
trickled down their sides in threads of silvery bright



THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.        291
ness. In other places patches of isinglass appeared,
sparkling against the sober masses, and communicating a singularly lustrous character to the scene, which
had otherwise been all grim and disheartening.
Jashub gazed a while in apprehensive wonder, as
he stood at the entrance of these everlasting gates.
Curiosity prompted him to enter and explore the recesses within, while a certain vague unwillingness
deterred him. At length curiosity, or perhaps fate,
which had decreed that he should become the instrument of her great designs, prevailed against all opposition, and he entered the portals of this majestic
palace of nature. He slowly advanced- sometimes
arrested by a certain feeling of mysterious awe, and
again driven on by the power which had assumed the
direction of his conduct. At length he arrived at the
centre of the hallowed solitude. Not a living thing
breathed around him, except his little dog; and his
gun trembled in his hand. All was gloom, silence,
isolation. The brook poured forth no murmurs; the
birds and insects seemed to have avoided the unsunned
region, where everlasting twilight reigned; and the
scream of the hawks, pursuing their way across the
deep chasm, was hushed as they passed.
Jashub was arrested by the melancholy grandeur
of the scene, and his dog looked wistfully in his face,
as if he wanted to go home. As he stood thus lingering, leaning on his gun, a merry strain broke forth
upon the terrible silence, and echoed through the glen.
The sound made him suddenly start, in doing which
his foot somehow or other caught in the lock of his
gun, which he had forgot to uncock, as was usual
with him, and caused it to go off. The explosion




292        THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.
rang through the recesses of the glen in a hundred
repetitions, which were answered by the howlings of
the little dog. As the echoes gradually subsided, and
the smoke cleared away, the tune again commenced.
It was a careless, lively air, such as suited the taste
of the young man, and he forgot his fears in his love
of music.
As he stood thus entranced, he heard a voice, sweet,
yet animating as the clear sound of a trumpet, exclaim,
"Shearjashub! Shearjashub!"
Jashub's heart bounded into his throat, and prevented his answering. He loaded his gun, and stood
on the defensive.
In a moment after, the same trumpet-voice repeated
the same words,
"Shearjashub! Shearjashub!"
" What d'ye want, you tarnal critter?" at length
the young man answered, with a degree of courage
that afterwards astonished him.
" Listen - and look!"
He listened and looked, but saw nothing, until a
little flourish of the same sprightly tune directed his
attention to the spot whence it came.
High on the summit of the highest perpendicular
cliff, which shone gorgeously with sparkling isinglass,
seated under the shade of a tuft of laurels, he beheld
a female figure, holding a little flageolet, and playing
the lively air which he had just heard. Her height,
notwithstanding the distance, appeared majestic; the
flash of her bright beaming eyes illumined the depths
of the gloom, and her bearing was that of a goddess.
She was dressed in simple robes of virgin white, and




THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.        293
on her head she wore a cap, such as has since been
consecrated to Liberty by my gallant countrymen.
Shearjashub looked, trembled, and was silent. In
a few minutes, however, his recollection returned.
"Shearjashub!" exclaimed the lady of the rock,
"listen! "
But Shearjashub had given leg-bail. Both he and
his faithful friend, little Snap, had left the haunted
glen as fast as their feet would carry them.
He told the story when he got home, with some
venial exaggeration.  Nobody believed him  except
the widow, his honoured mother, who had faith to
swallow a camel. All the rest laughed at him, and
the wicked damsels of the village were always joking
about his mountain sweetheart.
At last he got out of patience, and one day demanded of those who were bantering him what proof
they would have of the truth of his story.
"Why," said old Deacon Mayhew, " I guess I
should be considerably particular satisfied, if you
would bring us hum that same fife you heard the gal
play on so finely."
"And I," said another, "will believe the young
squire, if he'll play the safne tune on it he heard yonder in the mountain."
Shearjashub was so pestered and provoked at last,
that he determined to put his courage to the proof,
and see whe.ther it would bear him out in another
visit to the chasm in the mountain. He thought he
might as well be dead as have no comfort of his life.
"I'll be darned if I don't go," said he; and away he
went, with no other company than his little dog. It
was on the fourth day of July, 1776, that Shearjashub
wrought himself up to a second visit.




294       THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.
" I'm just come of age this very day," said he, " and
I'll show the critters I'm not made a man for nothing."
He certainly felt, as he afterwards confessed, a little
skittish on this occasion, and his dog seemed not much
to relish the excursion. Shearjashub had his gun, but
had not the heart to fire at any of the birds that flitted
about and seemed as if they were not afraid of coming nigh him. His mind ran upon other matters entirely. He was a long while on his way. Sometimes
he would stop to rest, as he said to himself, though
he was not in the least tired; sometimes he found
himself standing still, admiring nothing; and once or
twice actually detected his feet moving on the route
home, instead of towards the mountain.
On arriving at the vast gates that, as it were,
guarded the entrance to the glen, he halted to consider the matter. All was quietude, and sublimity.
His spirit at first sunk under the majesty of nature,
but at length became gradually inspired by the scene
before him with something of a kindred dignity. He
marched forward with a vigorous step and firm heart,
rendered the more firm by hearing and seeing nothing
of the white nymph of the rock or her gay music. He
hardly knew whether he wished to see her or not,
thinking, if she appeared, he might be tempted to run
away again; and if she did not, the deacon and the
girls would laugh at him worse than ever.
With these conflicting thoughts he arrived at the
very centre of the gloomy solitude, where he stood a
few moments, expecting to hear the music. All was
loneliness. Repose lay sleeping on his bed of rocks,
and Silence reigned in her chosen retreat.
" Is it possible that I was dreaming the other day,




THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.        295
when I was here, as those tarnal critters twitted me I
was? " asked the young man of himself.
He was answered by the voice of the white girl of
the mountain, exclaiming, in the same sweet yet clear,
animating, trumpet-tones,
" Shearjashub  Shearjashub! listen."
Jashub's legs felt some little inclination to run
away; but this time he kept his ground like a brave
fellow.
Again the same cheerful air echoed through the
silence of the deep profound, in strains of attractive
yet simple, careless vivacity. Shearjashub began to
feel himself inspired. He bobbed his head from side
to side to suit the notes, and was once or twice on
the point of cutting a caper.
He felt his bosom thrill with unwonted energies,
and a new vigour animate his frame as he contemplated the glorious figure of the mountain nymph,
and listened to her sprightly flageolet.
" Shearjashub!" cried the nymph, after finishing
her strain of music, " listen! "
" Speak - I hear," said the young man.
" My name is Liberty: dost thou know me?"
" I have heard my father and grandfather speak of
thee, and say they came to the New World to seek
thee."
" Well, I am found at last. Listen to me."
" Speak on."
" Your country has just devoted herself for ever to
me and my glory. Your countrymen have this day
pronounced themselves freemen, and they shall be
what they have willed, in spite of fate or fortune.
But my blessings are never thrown away on cow



296       THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.
ards; they are to be gained by toil, suffering, hunger,
wounds, and death; by courage and perseverance; by
virtue and patriotism.  The wrath and the mighty
energies of the oppressor are now directed against
your people; hunger assails them; force overmatches
them; and their spirits begin to fail. Take this pipe,"
-and she flung him the little flageolet, which he
caught in his hand. "Canst thou play on it? Try."
He put it to his lips, and, to his surprise, produced
the same animating strain he had heard from the
nymph of the mountain.
"Now go forth among the people and their armies,
and inspire them for battle. Wherever thou goest
with thy pipe, and whenever thou playest that air, I
will be with thee and thy countrymen. Go, fear not;
those who deserve me shall always win me. Farewell- we shall meet again."
So saying, she vanished behind a tuft of laurels.
Shearjashub marched straight home with his pipe,
and somehow or other felt he did not quite know how;
he felt as if he could eat gunpowder, and snap his fingers at the minister.
"' What the dickens has got in the critter?" said
the deacon, when he saw him strutting along like a
captain of militia.
"I declare, Jashub looks like a continental," exclaimed the girls.
Just then Shearjashub put his pipe to his mouth,
and played the tune he had learned, as if by magic,
from the mountain nymph; whereat Deacon Mayhew made for the meeting-house, (whither all the villagers followed him), and preached a sermon, calling
on the people to rise and fight for liberty, in such




THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.        297
stirring strains that forthwith all the men, young and
old, took their muskets and went out in defence of
their country, under the command of Shearjashub.
Wherever he came he played the magic tune on his
pipe, and the men, like those of his native village,
took to their arms, and went forth to meet the oppressor, like little David against Goliath.
They joined the army of Liberty, which they found
dispirited with defeat, and weak with suffering and
want. They scarcely dared hope for success to their
cause, and a general gloom depressed the hearts of all
the true friends of freedom. In this state the enemy
attacked them, and threw them into confusion, when
Shearjashub came on at the head of his troops, playing
his inspiring music with might and main.  And, as
he came, the sounds seemed to awaken the spirit of
heroism in every breast. Those who were retreating
rallied; and those who stood their ground maintained
it more stoutly than ever. The victory remained with
the sons of Liberty, and Shearjashub celebrated it
with the marvellous air, which echoed through the
whole land, and wakened it to new triumphs.
After a hard and bloody struggle, in which the pipe
of Shearjashub animated the very clods of the valley
wherever he went, the promise of the nymph of the
mountain was fulfilled. The countrymen of Shearjashub were free and independent. They were about
to repose under the laurels they had reaped, and to
wear what they had so dearly won.
Shearjashub also departed for his native village
with his pipe, which had so materially assisted in the
attainment of the blessings of freedom. His way lay
through the chasm in the mountain, where he first




298       THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.
encountered the nymph with the cap and snow-white
robe. He was anticipating the happiness of seeing
his aged mother, who had lived through the long war,
principally on the excitement of news, and the still
more near and dear happiness of taking to his bosom
the girl of his heart, Miss Prudence Worthy, as fair a
maid as ever raised a sigh in the bosom of lusty
youth.
He had got to the centre of the glen when he
was roused from his sweet anticipations by the wellremembered voice of the nymph of the mountain,
who sat on the same inaccessible rock, under the
same tuft of laurel, where he had first seen her, with
an eagle at her side.
"Shearjashub!" cried she, in a voice which made
the echoes of the rocks mad with ecstasy, -" Shearjashub! thou hast done well, and deserved nobly of
thy country. The thought of that is, in itself, a glorious reward for toil, danger, and suffering. But thou
shalt have one as dear, if not dearer than even this.
Look, where it comes."
Shearjashub looked, and beheld afar off a figure all
in white coming towards him, at the entrance of the
glen.  It approached nearer, and it was a woman;
nearer yet, and it was a young woman; still nearer,
and Shearjashub rushed towards it, and kissed its
blushing cheek. It was the girl of his heart, Miss
Prudence Worthy.
" This is thy other blessing," exclaimed the mountain nymph, the sight of whom made Miss Prudence
a little jealous; " a richer reward for noble exertions
than a virtuous woman I know not of. Live free, live
righteously, and then thou wilt be happy. I shall




THE NYMPH OF THE MOUNTAIN.      299
be with thee, an invisible witness, an invisible protector; but, in the mean while, should the spirit of the
people ever flag, and their hearts fail them in time of
peril, go forth among them as thou didst before, and
rouse them with thy pipe and thy music. Farewell,
and be happy! "
The nymph disappeared, and the brief jealous pang
felt by Miss Prudence melted away in measureless confidence and love. The tune of the mountain nymph
was played over and over again at Shearjashub's
wedding, and became known ever afterwards by the
name of YANKEE DOODLE.








JONATHAN'S VISIT
TO
THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.








JONATHAN'S VISIT
TO
THE   CELESTIAL  EMPIRE.
SOMEWHERE about the year 1783, Jonathan, a young
fellow who lived away down East, took it into his
head to make a voyage to Canton. Accordingly, he
fitted out his sloop, a tarnation clever vessel of about
eighty tons, and, taking a crazy old compass for his
guide, his two cousins (one a lad about sixteen) and
a great Newfoundland dog for his crew, and a couple
of rusty Revolutionary swords for an armament, boldly
set forth on a voyage to the Celestial Empire.
Jonathan was a mighty cute lad, and had read a
little or so about the great devotion of the Chinese to
the herb called ginseng, which every-body knows is a
remedy for all things. He happened one day to hear
an Indian doctor give it as his opinion, that a certain
plant which grew in the neighbourhood of Jonathan's
birthplace was very much like the famous Chinese
panacea, as he had seen it described. He took a hint
from this, and rather guessed he would carry a good
parcel along with him, on speculation. Accordingly,
he gathered a few hundred pounds, which he dried,




304           JONATHAN'S VISIT TO
and stowed away in one of his lockers under the cabin
floor.
Providence, which seems to take special care of such
droll fellows as Jonathan, who calculate pretty considerably on their native energies, blessed him with
fair winds and good weather; his old compass behaved
to admiration; his old chart, which had been torn into
fifty thousand pieces and pasted on a bit of tarpauling, proved an infallible guide; and, somehow or other,
he could not exactly tell how, he plumped his sloop
right into Table Bay, just as if the old fellow had
been there a hundred times before.
The Dutch harbour-master was sitting under his
hat on his piazza, when he beheld, through the smoke
of his pipe, this strange apparition of a vessel scudding
like a bird into the bay. He took it for the famous
Flying Dutchman, and such was his trepidation, that
he stuck his pipe into his button-hole without knocking out the ashes, whereby he burned a hole in his
waistcoat. When Jonathan rounded to, and came to
anchor, the harbour-master ventured to go on board
to get information concerning this strange little bark.
He could talk English, Dutch fashion, for indeed he
had been promoted to the office on account of his
skill in languages.
" Where did you gome from, mynheer?" quoth he.
" Right off the reel from old Salem, I guess," replied Jonathan.
" Old Salem -whereabout is dat den?  I ton't
know any sich blashe about here."
"I guess not. What's your name, squire?"
" Hans Ollenbockenoffenhaffengraphensteiner ish
my name."




THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.          305
"Whew! why, it's as long as a pumpkin vine —
now a'n't it? "
" But whereabout ish dish blashe you speague of?"
reiterated the harbour-master.
" Oh, it's some way off- about six or eight thousand miles down West there."
" Six tousand duyvels!" muttered Hans with the
long name. " Do you tink I vill pelieve such a cog
and pull shtory as dat, mynheer?"
" If you don't believe me, ask my two cousins there
- and, if you don't believe them, ask my dog. I tell
you I come right straight from old Salem, in the United
States of Amerrykey."
"United Shtaites of vat?  1 never heart of any
United Shtaites but de Shtaites of Hollant."
Ah - I suppose not - they've jist been christened.
I s'pose, now, likely you've never heard of the New
World neither, have you, mister - what's your
name? "
" Hans  Ollenbockenoffenhaffengraphensteiner   I
tolt you zo pefore."
" Maybe you'll have to tell me again before I know
it by heart, I calculate. But did you never hear of
the New World, squire?"
"Not I- ant if I hat, I vouldn't hafe pelieved it.
Tare ish no new worlt zinze de tiscovery of de Cabe
of Goot Hoop dat I know. Put, gorne along, you
must co vid me to de gubernador."
Jonathan puzzled the governor about as much as
he had done the harbour-master. But his papers were
all fair and above board, and the governor had heard
not only of the New World but of the United States
of Amerrykey, as Jonathan called them. Accord20




306            JONATHAN'S VISIT TO
ingly, he was permitted to enjoy all the privileges of
the port.
Nothing could exceed the curiosity and wonder excited by the vessel among the people at the Cape.
That she should have made a voyage of so many
thousand miles with such a crew and such an outfit
was. in their opinion, little less than miraculous, and
the worthy governor could only account for it by the
aid of witchcraft, which he had somewhere heard
abounded in the New World. Jonathan was the
greatest man, and his dog the greatest dog, at the Cape.
He dined with the governor and the burgomasters,
cracked his jokes with their wives and daughters,
danced with the Hottentots, and might have married
a Dutch damsel of five hundred weight and five thousand ducats a year, provided he would have given up
old Salem for ever.
After partaking of the hospitalities of the Cape a
few days, Jonathan began to be in a hurry to prosecute his voyage. He knew the value of time as well
as of money. On the sixth day he accordingly set
sail amid the acclamations of the inhabitants, taking
with him a hippopotamus, an orang-outang, and six
ring-tailed monkeys, all of which he had bought on
speculation. One of his cousins had, however, been
so smitten with the country about the Cape, or with
the charms of a little Dutch maiden, that he determined to stay behind, marry, and improve the inhabitants-on speculation. A Dutch sailor offered to
supply his place, but Jonathan declined, saying he
guessed his other cousin and the Newfoundland dog,
who was a pretty particular cute critter, could sail his
sloop quite round the world and back again.




THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.         307
Not much of interest occurred during the voyage
until he arrived at Macao, where he excited the same
astonishment, underwent the same scrutiny, returned
the same satisfactory answers, and came off as triumphantly as he did at the Cape of Good Hope. While
here, he saw everything, inquired about everything,
and went everywhere. Among other adventures, he
one day accompanied his cousin in a fishing-boat, to
see if they fished as the people did on the banks of
Newfoundland. Unfortunately, a violent storm came
on; some of the boats were lost and their crews
drowned. The survivors went and offered up some
of their paddles at the great temple of Neang-ma-ko.
Those that were able added some matches and gilt
paper. At Macao, it occurred to Jonathan's other
cousin that he might make a speculation by curing
the fish after the manner of mackerel: so he determined to stay there. Jonathan did not much like
this, but he said, " Never mind, I partly guess I can
do without him."
Jonathan had now no one but his Newfoundland
dog to assist in the navigation of his sloop. But he
thought to himself that his voyage was almost at an
end, and, at all events, if he hired any of the Macao
people, they would be offering up matches and gilt
paper to Neang-ma-ko, instead of minding their business. So he set sail for Canton, the Chinese prognosticating he would go to the bottom, because he did
not make an offering to Neang-ma-ko, and the Portuguese prophesying that he would go to the devil, because he did not pay his devoirs to the Virgin.
At Lin-tin he was taken for a smuggler of opium
by some, and for a magician by others, when they saw




308            JONATHAN'S VISIT TO
his vessel, heard where he hailed from, and became
convinced that his whole crew consisted of a Newfoundland dog.  The commander of the fleet of
ships of war stationed at Lin-tin, to prevent the
smuggling of opium into the Celestial Empire, seized
the sloop, and devoted its brave commander to the
indignation of the mighty emperor, who is brother to
the sun and moon. Hereupon Jonathan bethought
himself of a piece of the herb he had brought with
him and had in his pocket. "It is a mighty good
chance," thought he, " to try if it's the identical thing."
Accordingly, he took a convenient opportunity of presenting to the valiant commander a bit about as big
as his finger. The admiral, whose name was TizzyWizzy-Twang-Lang, stared at him at first with astonishment, then at the present with almost dismay, and,
thrusting it into his pocket, immediately caused it to
be proclaimed that the " foreign barbarian" was innocent of the crime, or the intention, of smuggling
opium, and might go anywhere he pleased. TizzyWizzy-Twang-Lang then sat down and wrote a despatch to the Governor of Canton, stating that he had
routed the "foreign barbarians," destroyed their fleet,
and thrown all their opium overboard. After which
he shut himself up in his cabin, and took a morsel of
the treasure Jonathan had presented him, about as
large as the head of a pin. It is astonishing how
much better he felt afterwards.
In the mean while Jonathan had set sail, and was
ploughing his way towards Canton, with a fair wind
and a good prospect of making a great speculation,
for he had ascertained to a certainty that the article
he had brought with him was the real ginseng, which




THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.          309
was worth five times its weight in gold. He went
ashore at the village of Ho-tun, where he saw the
people catching wild ducks and geese, which they
fatten by feeding in the dark. " That's a good hint,"
said Jonathan, shutting one eye, "and I'll tell the
folks at old Salem."  While he was walking about,
looking into everything, he was unexpectedly saluted
by a shower of stones from a parcel of children with
their hair sticking up behind like two horns. Jonathan
thought this tarnation ungenteel, but he prudently
suppressed his anger, considering he was in a strange
country, and was come to try his fortune.
" May I be buttered," quoth Jonathan, as he approached Canton, and saw the countless boats-" may
I be buttered, if here isn't a city all afloat. This beats
all nater! "
And, sure enough, here was a scene that might have
made one of our Indians wonder. The whole world
seemed on the water. Junks with two eyes staring at
the bows, canal-boats, flower-boats, pleasure-boats,
and boats of all sizes and descriptions, filled with all
sorts of people, lay moored in regular streets, or were
moving about to and fro in every direction, painted in
all the colours of the rainbow, and ornamented with
gold leaf and grinning monsters having no prototypes
in nature, or anywhere else but in the grotesque imagination of the artists of the Celestial Empire.
The busy activity of some of these boats was sin"
gularly contrasted with the luxurious ease of others,
in which might be seen a couple of Chinese dandies
reclining on mats and resting their heads on bamboo
pillows, with pipes in their mouths, either listlessly
contemplating the scene before them, or gazing with




310           JONATHAN'S VISIT TO
lack-lustre eye on the picture of some favourite beauty
with pencilled eyebrows, nails like a tiger, and feet
almost invisible. Others were performing the ceremony of chin-chin-joss, which consists in throwing
bits of burning paper into the water, while the din
of innumerable gongs contributed to the scene a
species of music that made honest Jonathan stop his
ears in reverential dismay.
When our adventurer moored his sloop at Whampoa, in the midst of a fleet of vast ships of almost all
the nations of Europe, they did not know what to
make of her. All he could say failed in convincing
them that he had come from such a long distance, in
such a vessel, navigated by such a crew. Besides,
what could have brought him to Canton? He had
neither money to purchase, nor cargo to exchange for,
Chinese commodities, except it might be his riverhorse, his orang-outang, and his monkeys.
Jonathan kept his own secret. He had heard that
the Chinese were as sharp as "the leetle end of nothing
whittled down," and determined to be as keen as the
best of them. Accordingly, nothing could be got out
of him, except that he had come on his own bottom,
and meant to turn a penny one way or another. He
said nothing about his ginseng, which he had, as I
before stated, stowed away in a secret locker.
The story of the strange man and the strange vessel
that had been navigated from the New World by a
man and a dog made a great noise, and thousands
flocked to see them. The gentleman who officiated as
American consul, without, however, having a regular
appointment, behaved in the most kind and friendly
manner to Jonathan, and introduced him to a hong,




THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.         311
or, as our hero called him, a hung, merchant, who
undertook to do his business for him, that is, if he had
any to do, which seemed rather doubtful.
"I chin-chin you," said Fat-qua, the hong-man.
" You don't now, do you?" quoth Jonathan. " Well,
then, I chin-chin you, and so we are even, I guess."
Fat-qua was very anxious to know all about Jonathan's business; but the Chinese were such plaguy
slippery fellows, that he was afraid to trust him with
his secret. He therefore, very gravely, and with infinite simplicity, commended to him his cargo of live
stock, begging that he would dispose of them to the
best advantage and invest the proceeds in a lading of
notions. Fat-qua did not know whether to laugh or
be angry —however, he concluded by laughing and
promising to do his best.
The trifle which Jonathan brought with him had
been all expended in maintaining himself and his
dog, and Fat-qua did not feel inclined to advance any
money on the security of his odd wares. This being
the case, Jonathan one day brought a pound or two
of his ginseng, and asked him, carelessly, what it
might likely be worth in these parts.;' Hi yah!" exclaimed the hong merchant in astonishment. " No have got some more of he - hi yah! "
"Some small matter -not much," said Jonathan,
who was of opinion that if he displayed the whole
parcel at once it might lower the price, and injure his
speculation.
Fat-qua disposed of the two pounds of ginseng for
a thumping sum, which Jonathan pocketed in less than
no time, and chuckled in his sleeve, as he thought of
the means to get rid of the whole at the same rate.




312           JONATHAN'S VISIT TO
A day or two after, he delivered the hong merchant a
few pounds more, which he said he had accidentally
found in a place where he had stowed it away and
forgotten it.
"Hi yah! Missee Joe Notting, I chin-chin you."
And he began to have a great respect for Missee Joe
Notting.
In this way, by degrees, did friend Jonathan bring
forth his hoard of hidden treasure, till it was all disposed of, and he found himself in possession of almost
half a million of dollars; for, it is to be recollected,
this happened long before the value of ginseng was
brought down to almost nothing, by the large quantities carried to China in consequence of the successful
venture of Jonathan.
Every time he produced a new lot, he declared it
was all he had left, and, consequently, to the last
moment, the price was kept up. Fat-qua began to
believe that Joe Notting had discovered some hidden
place where it grew, in the neighbourhood of Canton,
or that he dealt with the prince of darkness. He
accordingly caused him to be watched, but our hero
was too wide-awake for the hong merchant.
" Hi yah! Missee Joe Notting —some yet morewhen you shall think shall you no more have- hey?
Every day here come you-say the last is he-hi
yah! I think no last come for ever."
" I ha'n't another stick to save my gizzard," said
Jonathan; and, this time, he spoke like a man of
honour. He had at last sold out his hoard, with the
exception of a small parcel for presents, and to use
on an emergency.
Jonathan was now thinking he would gather him



THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.          313
self together, and point his bowsprit straight towards
home. But he determined to see about him first, for
he expected to be asked a heap of questions when he
got among his old neighbours; and not be able to tell
them all about the Celestial Empire would be to show
he had little or no gumption.
He accordingly visited the famous flower-garden
of Fa-Tee, where he saw a fine collection of the most
beautiful flowers, and roses of all colours. Returning,
he passed through the suburb of Ho-Nam, where he
was called Fan-kwei, which means " foreign devil,"
and pelted handsomely with stones, according to the
hospitable custom of the inhabitants.
Jonathan was now so rich, that he felt himself a
different man from what he was when the boys stoned
him  at the village of Ho-tun.  He had, moreover,
seen the bamboo so liberally employed on the backs
of the Chinese by their own officers and magistrates,
that he thought he might make use himself of this
universal panacea for all offences in the Celestial
Empire. Accordingly, he sallied forth among these
inhospitable rogues, and plied his stick so vigorously
that the rabble fled before him, crying out, " Fankwei! ", and making motions significant of cutting off
the head, as much as to say that would be his end
at last. The reader must know that beheading is
considered the most disgraceful of all punishments
in the Celestial Empire, where they do everything
differently from the rest of the world.
A formal complaint was laid before the Gan-chatsze, a minister of justice at Canton, against the Fankwei, who had feloniously bambooed the mob of
Ho-Nam. Fat-qua, one of our hero's securities, was




314            JONATHAN'S VISIT TO
taken into custody till his appearance, and an express
was sent off to Pekin to announce to the brother of
the sun and moon that a Fan-kwei had beaten at
least two hundred of his valiant and invincible subjects, who could not bring themselves to soil their
fingers by touching even the clothes of a foreign barbarian.
Jonathan was soon arrested, and, being carried before the illustrious Gan-chat-sze, was astonished at
seeing the infinite mischief he had done. There was
one poor man who had had his eye put out; another,
his head fractured; a third, his arm broken; and,
what was worse than all this, three children were so
disabled that they could not stand;-all by Jonathan's bamboo, which was about as thick as your
finger.
This was a serious business for a Fan-kwei. But
his friend Fat-qua whispered in his ear 
" Hi yah - Missee Joe Notting - you some more
have got of that grand — hi yah! You stand under
me - hey? "
Jonathan tipped him a knowing wink, and Fat-qua
then crept close to the ear of the incorruptible Ganchat-sze, and whispered him in like manner; but what
he said, being only intended for the ear of justice,
must not be disclosed.  The effect, however, was
miraculous; the Gan-chat-sze forthwith started up in
a mighty passion, and, seizing his bamboo, attacked
the complainants in the suit with such wonderful
vigour, that he actually performed a miracle, and restored every one of them to the use of their limbs.
After this, he discharged the offender with a caution,
which Fat-qua translated into excellent English; and




THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.         315
the next day Jonathan sent him, by the hands of the
same discreet friend, a pound of ginseng.
"Hi yah! Missee Joe -more some yet, hey? Believe
him make him as him go along. Hi yah! Chin-chin
you, Missee Joe Notting."
Fat-qua was determined to signalize this triumph
of Chinese justice over prejudice against foreigners
by a great feast of bears' claws, birds' nests, and all
the delicacies of the East.  He therefore invited a
number of the Fan-kweis about the factory to meet
Jonathan at his country-seat, near the gardens of FaTee, and they had a jolly time of it. Our hero was
complimented with a pair of chopsticks of the most
elegant construction and materials, which he managed
with such skill, that, by the time the dinner was over,
he was wellnigh starved to death.
The "hung merchant", Fat-qua, was a jolly little
fellow, "about knee-high to a toad," as Jonathan
used to say, and fond of a good glass of wine. He
plied his guests pretty neatly, until they began to feel
a little top-heavy and rolled away one by one under
rather high steam, leaving Jonathan alone with his
friend, the latter fast asleep. Jonathan was by this
time in high feather, and thought this would be a
good time to take a peep at the establishment of his
friend, that he might know something of these matters when he got home.
He arose without disturbing the little fat gentleman,
and proceeded to penetrate into the interior of the
house, until he came to the female apartments, in one
of which he saw a young lady smoking, to whom he
paid his compliments with a low bow. Her pipe was
formed of slender pieces of bamboo, highly polished,




316            JONATHAN'S VISIT TO
with a bowl of silver and a mouth-piece of amber.
Her hair was beautifully long and tastefully dressed
with flowers and gold and silver bodkins, and the
whole atmosphere of the room was perfumed with
jasmine and other odoriferous plants and shrubs. By
her side lay a guitar, on which she seemed to have
been playing.
The entrance of Jonathan threw her into great confusion, and she uttered several violent screams, which,
however, brought no one to her assistance. The illustrious Fat-qua was still sleeping in his seat, and the
servants making merry, as usual, with the remains of
the feast. Jonathan attempted an apology for his
intrusion, but the more he apologized the louder the
young lady shrieked. Jonathan wondered what could
be the matter with her.
" Well, I never saw anything like this growing
among corn - what's come over the gal?  May I be
chiselled if I don't think she's afeard I'll eat her.
But, why the dickens, if she's fiightened, don't she
scamper off, that being the most nat'ral way of getting
out of danger?"  Jonathan did not know the feet of
the screeching damsel were not more than two inches
and a half long, and that she could no more run than
fly. They were what the Chinese poets call a couple
of " golden lilies."
Encouraged by this notion, that her pretending to
be frightened was all sheer affectation, he approached
her still nearer, took up the guitar, and begged her to
play him a tune, such as " Yankee Doodle," or anything of the sort that was pretty easily managed, for
he did not much admire any of your fine fashionable
whimseys. Jonathan was a plaguy neat kind of a




THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.          317
chap- as handsome a lad as might be seen; tall,
and straight, with blue eyes, white forehead, and red
cheeks, a little rusted, to be sure, with the voyage.
The pretty creature with the little feet, whose name
was Shangtshee, ventured at last to look at this impudent intruder, and, sooth to say, he did not appear
so terrible at the second glance as at the first.  She
smiled, and put out one small foot for Jonathan to
admire.  She then took her guitar, and played him
a tune —it was not " Yankee Doodle " to be sure, but
it rather pleased Jonathanj for he declared it beat all,
he'd be switched if it didn't. Shangtshee seemed to
understand the compliment, for she smiled, and put
out her other golden lily, I suppose to show Jonathan
she had a pair of them. Jonathan admired the pipe;
she handed it to him, he put it to his lips, and, on
receiving it again, she put it to her lips, which our
hero finally concluded came as near to kissing as twopence to a groat.
" How the critter blushes," thought Jonathan.  He
did not know she was painted half an inch thick, after
the fashion of the Chinese ladies. As they sat thus
exchanging pleasant little civilities, which, innocent
as they were, endangered both their lives, they were
alarmed — at least the lady was, (for Jonathan had
never particularly studied Chinese customs) - by the
sound of a guitar in the garden. It approached, and,
in a few minutes, seemed directly under the window
of the apartment.  Shangtshee appeared greatly agitated, and begged Jonathan, by signs, to depart, the
way he came. But Jonathan had no notion of being
scared by a tune, and declined to budge an inch. It
was a nice tune, and he didn't much mind if he heard
another just like it.




1[ 8          JONATHAN'S VISIT TO
Presently the music ceased, and all at once the
young Shangtshee screamed a scream almost as loud
as the former ones. " What can have got into the
curious varmint, now, I wonder?" quoth Jonathan.
He little suspected she had caught a glimpse of the
face of her lover through the blinds. This young man
was called Yu-min-hoo, which signifies feathered, because he was a great poet, and took such high flights
that his meaning was sometimes quite out of sight. He
always carried an ink-bottle suspended to his button,
a bamboo pen stuck behind his ear, and a book under
his arm, in which he wrote down his thoughts, that none
might escape him. He made verses upon Shangtshee,
in which he compared her to a dish of bears' claws,
since her nails were at least six inches long, and she
was a delicacy which the epicure might admire every
day in the year. It was this sentiment which he had
set to music, and sung on this eventful evening under
the window of his mistress.
Yu-min-hoo was petrified when he saw his Shangtshee sitting so cosily by the side of a Fan-kwei, which,
as I said before, means foreign devil. His indignation
was terrible, and his jealousy prodigious. He had
thoughts of sitting down by the light of the moon
and writing a furious ode, consigning the Fan-kwei
to all the Chinese devils, which are the ugliest in the
world. Even their gods are monsters; what, then,
must the others be?  On second thoughts, however,
Yu-min-hoo restrained his muse, and in a moment or
two they heard the clatter of his wooden shoes gradually receding. Shangtshee again entreated with her
eyes, her hands, nay, her very feet, that Jonathan would
make himself scarce. The tears ran down her cheeks,




THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.         319
and, like torrents of rain, wore deep channels in them
that almost spoiled their beauty.
Jonathan tried all he could to comfort her, when,(imagine his surprise and indignation at her base ingratitude!) - he was greeted with a scratch of those
long nails that constitute the most unequivocal claim
of a Chinese lady to rank. It was a scratch so emphatic and well directed, that every nail, and most
especially the little finger nail, left its mark on his
cheek, and it was preceded and followed by a scream
of the highest pretensions.
Our hero was astounded at this salutation. He had
heard of love-taps, but never of such as these. But
he soon understood the whole squinting of the business as slick as a whistle, when he saw little Fat-qua
standing before him, breathing fire, and looking fury
with his dark sharp-cornered eyes.
"Hi yah! Missee Joe Notting - s'pose tink you
daughter my one flower-woman- hey?"
Jonathan endeavoured to convince Fat-qua that
there was not the least harm in sitting by the side of
a young woman in a civil way -that it was done in
his country every day in the year, particularly on Sundays - and that the women there were quite as good
as in China, though they did not wear wooden shoes
and nails six inches long.
Fat-qua was wroth at this indecorous comparison
of the Fan-kwei ladies with those of the Celestial
Empire, and ordered his servants to seize Jonathan,
as a violator of Chinese etiquette, and a calumniator
of wooden shoes and long nails. He determined, in
the bitterness of his heart, to have him immediately
before the worshipful Gan-chat-sze, who would not fail
to squeeze some of his dollars out of him.




320            JONATHAN'S VISIT TO
But further reflection induced him to abandon this
course. He recollected, when the fumes of the wine
were somewhat dissipated, that both himself and his
daughter would be disgraced and dishonoured if it
were publicly known that she had been in company
with a Fan-kwei, a stain of the deepest dye, according
to the statutes of the Celestial Empire, in any but
the common women. The only way, therefore, was
to make the best of a bad business. Accordingly, he
bribed his servants to secrecy — married his daughter
to the poet- and swore never to invite another Missee
Joe Notting to dine with him so long as there was a
woman in his house. He had never, he said, met with
a fellow of this chop before.
Various were the other adventures of our hero,
which are recorded in the annals of the Celestial Empire, where he figures as " The Great Fan-kwei, Joe
Notting."  My limits will not suffice to particularize
them all, else would I relate how he was fined a thousand dollars by his old friend, the Gan-c7iat-sze, for
bambooing a valiant sentinel who refused to let him
enter the gates of Canton without a bribe; and how
his river-horse, being tired of confinement, took an
opportunity to jump overboard, whereby he upset a
boat, and came nigh drowning the passengers. This
cost him three thousand dollars more. His next adventure was picking up the body of a drowned man
in the river one evening, in passing between his sloop
and the shore, whose murder he was found guilty of
before the Gan-chat-sze, who kindly let him off for ten
thousand dollars, advising him, at the same time,
through the hong merchant, Fat-qua, to take the
earliest opportunity of making himself invisible within
the precincts of the Celestial Empire.




THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE.           321
"I partly guess I'll take his advice, and pull up
stakes," said Jonathan. "I never saw such a tarnal
place. It beats everything, I swow.  Why, Squire
Fat-qua, I'll tell you what-if you'll only come to
our parts, you may go jist where you please -do jist
as you please- and talk to the gals as much as you
please: I'll be choked if it isn't true, by the living
hokey."
"Hi yah! Missee Joe Notting," replied Fat-qua,
" she must be some very fine place, dat Merrykey."
" There you are right, squire. But, good-by; I conclude it's best to cut stick. They're plaguy slippery
fellows here: if they a'n't, may I be licked by a chap
under size."
Jonathan received the remainder of his money,
which he was then earnestly advised to invest in bills,
and at the same to sell his vessel, and embark for
home in a safer conveyance.
" D'ye think I'm a fellow of no more gumption than
that?" said he. "I'll be darned if there's a tighter,
safer thing than my sloop ever sailed across the salt
sea; and, as for your paper-money, I've had enough
of that in my own country in my time."
He declined shipping a crew, for he said he must
trust, in that case, to strangers; and he thought to
himself that he could easily induce his two cousins
to go home with him, now he was so rich. It happened as he had anticipated: both gladly rejoined
him, each having failed in his speculation. The Dutchmen at the Cape prohibited the one from using a
machine he had invented for saving labour, lest it
might lower the price of their negroes; and the Portuguese and Chinese refused to eat the fish of the other,
21




~22          JONATHAN S VISIT, ETC.
because he neither crossed himself before the picture
of the Virgin, nor burned gilt paper to the image of
Neang-ma-ko.
A prosperous voyage ended in Jonathan's happy
return to Salem, where he became a great man, even
to the extent of being yclept honourable. He lived
long and happily, and his chief boast to the end of his
life was, that he had been the first of his countrymen
to visit the Celestial Empire, and the only man that
navigated with a Newfoundland dog for an officer.




THE HISTORY
OF
UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.








THE HISTORY
OF
UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.
ONCE upon a time there lived, and lives still, in a
country lying far to the West, a famous squire, rich
in lands and paper-money. Report made him out to
be the son of John Bull, who, as every one knows, has
children in all parts of the world. But, if the truth
were told, I believe he had a great many fathers,
though his mother was a very honest woman, for he
looked like as many people as there were hairs on his
chin. But old Squire Bull had the credit of being
his father, and truly there was a great likeness between them. Like Bull, he was somewhat given to
boasting, tippling, fighting, and sailing boats; and
was apt to hold his neighbors in contempt, dubbing
them a pack of snivelling, pitiful rascals, that did not
dare to call their souls their own, or look their king
in the face, as every cat had a right to do. He took
after his father in another respect; that is to say, nobody could tell which he was most fond of, making
money like a horse, or spending it like an ass. But,
for all this, he did not so much favour John Bull but




326         UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.
that you could now and then catch an expression in
his face that put you in mind of every-body you had
ever seen in the world.
John Bull had christened this son of his by the
name of Jonathan; but, by and by, when he became
a man grown, being a good hearty fellow, about half
horse half alligator, his friends and neighbors gave
him the title of Uncle Sam; a sure sign that they
liked him, for I never in my life knew a respectable
nickname given to a scurvy fellow. Be this as it
may, his family and all his acquaintances at last
came to call him nothing but Uncle Sam; and all his
beef, pork, and flour, in fact everything that belonged
to him, was marked with a huge U. S., six inches
long.
As I have a great respect for universal example, I
shall give him this name in the sequel of my history,
which I hereby commend to the special attention of
all wise men, more especially the wise men of the
East. As to the fools, every body knows they are so
scarce nowadays, that I hereby snap my fingers at
and defy them.
I flatter myself no man living is better qualified for
this piece of biography. Uncle Sam and I have been
hand and glove these fifty years. Many are the bouts
we have had together when boys; many the frolics
we have kicked up among the buxom young hussies,
who now are all honest, sober, mothers of families;
and many the bottles we have cracked together at
sundry times and on divers occasions, during the
good old days when, if a man did not choose to be
merry sometimes himself, he did not cry out against
those who did. Uncle Sam was a sad fellow at rac



UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.         327
coon-hunting, and a barbecue was his delight, until it
got to be the custom to talk politics and make long
speeches at them.
Uncle Sam, in early life, gave some offence to his
father, about going to the meeting-house instead of
the church. One word brought on another, until John
Bull at length took to beating the poor fellow into
conformity with his notions. He was a lad of spirit,
that would put up with this from no man, not even his
father; and, accordingly, without saying a word to
any body, he packed up his all and marched off into
the wide world, to seek his fortune.
As you may suppose, Uncle Sam had little to begin
with; but he was a stirring blade, who did not mind
trouble at first, if he could only see his way clear to
something better in the end. He set himself to the
business of clearing and selling new lands. As fast
as he became pretty comfortable on one farm, he sold
out at a profit and set off for another; so that he was
seldom more than two or three years in the same
place. But, for all this, he never lost sight of the main
chance; since there was nothing on the face of the
earth he loved so dearly as a bargain or a profitable
speculation.  By good management and good luck
he at last came to have a vast property in lands, which
he was every day adding to, by buying out the Indians, or taking farms for debts that were owing him.
In short, he prospered in all his undertakings, and
became, in process of time, a great man among his
neighbours. But, to my mind, he was not above half
as clever a fellow as when he was poor. Then he
was a jolly, careless, high-minded dog- generous as
a prince, and hospitable as a Turk. Though he




328         UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.
would swear a little at times, he never meant any
harm by it. But, as he got rich, he aspired to be
mighty genteel; aped the manners of all the wouldbe fashionable stragglers that came along; never invited any body to his house except to show off his new
finery, and left off all his honest old habits by little
and little.
The fact is, he took to canting, and turned the embroidered side of his jacket outward, as a Turk does
when he goes to court.  Many people doubted
whether he was anything the better for this; and, if I
must speak my mind, I think he lost more than he
gained; for, as respects myself, I had rather a man
should rip out and drink punch a little, than pick my
pocket while he is prating about brotherly love and
good-will to all men. If Uncle Sam is angry at this,
let him scratch his back and get pleased again.
As Uncle Sam got rich, and withal stout, and lusty
as a young giant, the neighboring gentry, who called
him an upstart, and looked askance at his prosperity,
would shake their heads very wisely, and cry out,
" Ah! poor man, to be sure he looks well and hearty;
but any body can see with half an eye he is not long
for this world." And then they would sigh, and take
a pinch of snuff to the success of their prognostications. But it happened, somehow or other, that every
attack he had, and every rub he met with, only served
to show the strength of his constitution, and make it
still stronger, until at last these false prophets began
to say to themselves, " The rogue will last forever."
Now, I don't pretend to say this would be the case,
seeing there is an end to all things; but I verily believe he would have lived to a happy and green old




UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.          329
age, had it not been for the undutiful behaviour of his
children, which made his latter days one scene of
trouble and turmoil.
You must know  that, as soon as Uncle Sam
thought himself able to maintain a family comfortably, he got him  a wife, who proved an excellent
house-keeper, and, in the course of years, his children
amounted to I am afraid to say how many; all jolly,
strapping, roistering blades, with the exception of two
or three, that were rather stinted in the growth, or, as
Uncle Sam used to say in joke, " shrunk in the boiling." These last were rather conceited and jealous, as
I suspect most little people are.
As fast as these lads grew up, Uncle Sam portioned
them  off on his farms, which they were to pay for
when they were able, at very low prices. They all
turned out pretty industrious fellows, with the exception of here and there one who got all his work done
by negroes.  They differed in some respects; but
there was a family likeness among them —all took
after the mother, who was a pretty considerable particular talker. One was a famous fellow for cod-fishing; another a great hand at splitting shingles; a
third was an amateur of road-making and ditching;
a fourth was mighty fond of barbecues, taking after
his father in that respect; a fifth dealt largely in
wooden bowls and onions; a sixth was a great cultivator of rice and cotton; a seventh was a pretty
high-handed fellow, fond of a good horse, and of an
independent, open-hearted spirit: —and so on. They
all lived together like loving brothers, having a rich
father who could do what he pleased with his money
- that is to say, they were as jealous of each other as
two cocks running in the same yard.




330         UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.
If Uncle Sam made a Christmas present to one, or
conferred a special kindness on another, there was the
deuse to pay among the rest. They accused the old
man of being partial, and allowed him no rest until
he put them all on a level; which he had no sooner
done, than they, one and all, began to grumble and
find fault, saying the poor man was in his dotage,
only because he had not given each one a preference
over his brother. Uncle Sam sometimes said to himself, " Happy is the man who has nothing, for his
children won't quarrel about his estate."
But this was not the worst of it. The old Harry
got into them about improving their farms, which
they all swore was Uncle Sam's business; he was
devouring all the money they could rake and scrape
together to settle for the lands he had sold them.
They said it was a sin and a shame for him to make
them pay everything, seeing they were his naturalborn children, entitled to bed, board, education, and
an outfit. Besides, daddy was now become so rich he
did not know what to do with his money, and it was
actually a kindness to rid him of its management in
his old age.
Thus these cunning varlets agreed in the propriety
of sharing Uncle Sam's money, but they fell out about
the manner of dividing it, like a parcel of undutiful
rogues as they were. The big fellows argued that
they ought to share according to weight, and insisted
they should all go down to the mill and be weighed.
But the little fellows who had been " shrunk in the
boiling" demurred to this, and swore it was all in my
eye, Betty Martin. They were as much the lawful
sons of Uncle Sam as the best and biggest of them,




UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.         331
and were determined to have their share at the point
of the bayonet. There was one, particularly, who
lived on an island about as big as my thumb-nail, who
talked like a giant, and threatened to dissolve the
family union and set up for himself if they did not
treat him like a full-grown man. They had a great
many hard bouts at words, and some of the neighbours feared they would come together by the ears.
But though they quarrelled like so many old women,
like old women, they seldom came to blows. They
had a sort of sneaking kindness for one another at the
bottom, which always prevented their proceeding to
extremities.
At the same time they were forever falling out about
nothing, or some trifle next to nothing, and never gave
each other a good word except when they all put their
heads together, as they often did, to diddle Uncle Sam
out of a few thousands for the improvement of their
farms. Fortunately, however, for his pocket, it was
seldom they could agree about the division of the
spoils, or it would not have been long before he was
as poor as a rat.
Be this as it may, the good man had no peace of
his life, and was several times on the point of making
over all his property to build meeting-houses and
educate the children of other people. Certain it is,
he had good reason to do so, for these undutiful boys
left him no rest day or night, on account of his money.
Not being able to agree to the plan of dividing Uncle
Sam's surplus income according to weight, it was
proposed to do it by measure; but here again the little
fellows that were "shrunk in the boiling" made a
most infernal rout, and opposed it tooth and nail.




332         UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.
They swore they were as good as the big fellows, any
day in the week; and they insisted that the apportionment should be made according to merit - not weight
or size. All agreed to this, and the matter was just
on the point of being amicably settled, when a trifling
difficulty occurred in adjusting the scale of desert.
The roistering barbecue fellow swore he was equal to
any man you could shake a stick at; the splitter of
shingles maintained the superiority of his art; the
young squire, who was fond of riding a fine horse and
doing nothing, declared he considered himself the most
of a gentleman; the raisers of rice and cotton claimed
precedence on the score of administering both to the
back and stomach; and the little fellow that lived on
his island put in his claim on the score of morality.
This would not do, and so the old man escaped being
plundered that time.
But these fine boys had another iron in the fire,
which they heated till it was red-hot. Quoth one of
the rascallions - I believe it was the barbecue chap" Let us set about improving our farms, and make
the old boy pay the piper."
Upon this scheme they agreed, and set up a hurrah
about internal improvement, which means digging
ditches, pulling up snags, and making roads through
the desert.
Upon this one of them went and set up a loom in
his back building, for the encouragement of domestic
industry, as he said, and hired other people to come
and tend it. When he had done this, he went to
Uncle Sam, and insisted on a handful or two of
money, to encourage him in such patriotic and praiseworthy undertakings.




UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.         333
" Stop, there, my little fellow," cried the biggest
brother of all, who had a fist like a sledge-hammer;
" stop, if you please - I have set up my looms at my
own expense, and I'll be switched if the old man is
-going to pay you for doing what I have done for myself."
Then another started a blacksmith shop for making
hobnails, and advanced the same claim to touch a few
thousands of the old gentleman's money for the encouragement of domestic industry, which about this
time began to be very low-spirited, and wanted a little
patting.
" Avast, there, you landlubber," exclaimed one of
the brothers, a bold, hearty Jack tar, who had sailed
round and round the world, and was a mighty
navigator. "Avast, there; none of your fresh-water
gabble. I should like to know the reason why you
should be paid for making hobnails, any more than I
am for building ships. Avast, there, I say, you lubber, or I'll be foul of your dead-lights."
Next came another brother, who was a great hand
at raising sheep, which he called being a wool-grower,
to demand that, as people could not exist without
clothes, Uncle Sam should shell out a few dollars to
reward him for being a great public benefactor.
" Fudge' " exclaimed the cotton-growing brother, -
" where one man is clothed in wool, a thousand wear
cotton. Why not encourage me, then, instead of this
woolly fellow? Away with your bleating, or I'll be
into your mutton before you can say Jack Robinson."
Next came a sober, sedate, economical brother, who
had set up a shoe-shop, and wanted Uncle Sam's protection -that is to say, some of his money.




334         UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.
"Rot your sole," cried the high-handed gentleman,
who despised hard work, and had rather ride a bloodhorse than make his own shoes, a thousand times —
"What are you talking about, there?  It's mighty
natural, to be sure, that you should be asking encouragement for making shoes. If it were horseshoes,
now, I'd talk to you."
So saying, he mounted his steed, and challenged
Uncle Sam to run a race for a thousand dollars.
After this - (there was no end to their persecution
of the poor old man) -after this came another
brother, a great mechanical genius, who had invented
a machine for peeling apples, and wanted encouragement of Uncle Sam for the great saving of time and
labour in making apple-pies.
"Whoo! whoo! whoop!" cried the wild, harum-"
scarum, barbecue boy, one of Uncle Sam's youngest
sons, who had just settled a town away off West, and
had not yet cast his moccasons; "whoop! mister,
mind which way you point your rifle there - I can
turn a flip-flap somerset, grease your head with bear's
meat, and swallow you whole without a pang. You'd
better take keer how you steer your steam-boat, or
you'll run foul of a snag."
By and by came another of this hopeful family,
with a long story of the great advantage Uncle Sam
would derive from clearing out a ditch, at his own
expense, for the benefit of other people.
Here the great big fellow mentioned before, who
was the richest of the brothers, put in his oar and
cried out:
" None of that fun, Brother Jonathan; I've done all
my own ditching myself, and I'll be teetotally rum



UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.         335
swizzled if I am going to let daddy pay you for just the
same sort of work. Dig your own ditches, my boy,
as I dug mine."
Then came a fine fellow, one of the young fry, who
wanted to persuade Uncle Sam to pony up for a lane
he was about making from  his barn to his bogmeadow, which he assured the old man would be
a vast public improvement; for that, whereas his
carts stuck in the mud now, they would be able to
get along like a streak of lightning as soon as it was
done.
"Thunder and blarney!" exclaimed three or four
of the elder brothers all at once, " haven't we made
our own roads at our own cost, and without asking
daddy for a cent; and do you think, you snivelling
blockhead, we'll stand by and see the old man cheated
out of what belongs to us?"
" Goody gracious!" at length cried Uncle Sam,
throwing up his eyes   " goody gracious, what can
be the matter with these boys! I believe they mean
to eat me up alive. I wish — I wish I was as poor as
Job's turkey."
Now, all that was required for Uncle Sam to be
just as he wished was to let the boys have all his
money, as they desired. But, what is a little odd, he
never thought of this, and continued wishing himself
poor, without once hitting on the best possible way
of becoming so.
Things went on, getting worse and worse, for some
time afterward. Uncle Sam was almost every day
pestered for money to pay for some improvement or
other in the boys' farms. He kept an account of
these, and the amount they would cost, and found




336         UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.
that it would take all he was worth in the world, and
more besides, to get through with half of them. So,
one day, he put his hands in his breeches' pockets,
and swore roundly they were a brood of ungrateful
rogues that wanted to get him on the parish, and not
another penny would he fork out for man or beast.
This raised a terrible hue and cry among the boys,
who threatened to disinherit the old man, and set up
for themselves. But he was a pretty stiff blade when
his pluck was up, and he thought himself in the right.
You might as well try to move a mountain as Uncle
Sam, when he put his foot down and toed the mark.
He told the boys he had honest debts, and meant to
pay every penny he owed in the world before he
began to talk about laying out money in improvements.
These graceless young scamps were a little stumped
at the stand Uncle Sam had taken, and began to plot
together to turn the old man out of house and home
and take possession of all his estate, as soon as they
could bring matters to bear. Accordingly, they went
about among their neighbours, insinuating that he
was incompetent to manage his affairs any longer.
It was high time, they said, that he should give up his
estates into their hands, and set about preparing for a
better world. They raised all sorts of stories against
him, - how he did not care any more about the law
or the gospel than a pagan; how he tucked up people
just for the pleasure of seeing them kick their heels
in the air; and how he threatened to cut off the ears
of a member of Congress, only because he told stories
about him.
In this way these roistering boys raised a great




UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.         337
clamor against Uncle Sam, which emboldened them
at last to hatch a diabolical plan for taking away all
his lands at one blow. They were not content with
getting them by degrees, to pay for building schoolhouses, teaching dumb people philosophy, and a thousand other things; but they now determined to make
one business of it, and strip the old gentleman as bare
as my hand.
Not finding any law for this, they determined to
get one passed for the purpose; to pave the way for
which, they spread abroad a hundred cock-and-bull
stories about this, that, and the other thing. They
swore the land of right belonged to them when they
came of age, according to an old settlement, which
declared that Uncle Sam's children should all share
his estates equally after his death. But they kept the
latter part to themselves, as you may suppose, and
pretended that they had a right to take the old man's
property while he was alive. Besides, they would
say, the poor gentleman don't know what to do with
so much land; half of it lies waste for want of proper
attention, and, if we only had it, we would make it
ten times more valuable, and pay the taxes, which he
is exempted from by virtue of an ancient charter.
The notion of getting money by taxation is a bait
which generally takes with people whose business
consists in law-making and not in tax-paying, as I
have always heard.  So the legislators who had
authority where Uncle Sam's property lay rubbed
their hands, and were mightily tickled with the notion
of being able to squeeze a little money from his new
lands. Perceiving that this argument told, the boys
devised another complaint,about Uncle Sam's receiv22




338         UNCLE SAM AND HIS BOYS.
ing all the money for the lands he sold, and then forcing those who bought them to work their fingers to
the bone to make themselves whole again, as if this
were not the way all over the world.
Uncle Sam  defended his bacon to the last, like
a stout old hero as he was; but by degrees the influence of these twopenny varlets prevailed, and a law
was passed, taking away all his property and dividing
it equally among the boys, so that those who were
" shrunk in the boiling" got the same portion as the
big roistering blades, who, rather than not come in for
a slice, consented at last to share, and share equally.
They were all specially enjoined to take care of Uncle
Sam, and see that he wanted for nothing; but the
poor old man fared pretty much as people generally
do who make over all their property to their children
in their lifetime. At first they treated him pretty well,
for decency's sake; but gradually deprived him of
all his usual comforts. First, they took away his pipe,
because the young madams the sons had married
could not bear tobacco-smoke. Then, the eldest boy
seized possession of his arm-chair and his seat in the
chimney-corner. Next, they removed the blankets
from his bed, on the ground that it would injure his
health to lie too warm; and next, nearly starved him
to death, for fear he should die of apoplexy. Finally,
losing all respect for the ties of blood, and all recollection of the early benefits they had derived from the
good old man, they fairly turned him out of doors.
The last I heard of Uncle Sam, he was in the poorhouse.




THE HISTORY
OF
UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.








THE  HISTORY
OF
UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.
I TOLD you, some time ago, about the unseemly behaviour of UNCLE SAM'S BOYS: how they wanted to
divide his new lands among themselves; and how
they quarreled about the old man's not doing his duty
by them, in the way of protection. But, as it did not
concern my business at that time, I said nothing of
his daughters, of whom he had a goodly family, all
buxom, industrious damsels; nor of his wife, who, as
all the world knows, talked and scolded by the hour,
and was never quiet in the house five minutes at a
time; so that, what between the boys, the girls, and
the old woman, Uncle Sam had a time of it —especially during the winter season, when they had nothing to do but sit disputing in the chimney-corner
from morning till night.
The old lady, Uncle Sam's wife, according to the
marriage-contract, had a HOUSE and establishment of
her own, where she played the mistress finely, and bit
her thumb at him, as if he had been nobody, instead
of her wedded husband. Report said, and I believe




342      UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.
it spoke truth this time, that she was a mighty capricious body, that hardly ever knew her own mind;
and, instead of treating her children on all occasions
alike, had ever some pet or other among them, on
whom she lavished her favours, to the exclusion of the
rest, for the time being. But, on the whole, she made
Uncle Sam a tolerable wife, as times go, and took
special good care of his money, except when it was
to be spent on her own back. She always made out
to have plenty of cash for her household expenses,
and never wanted pin-money, though the rest of the
family might be destitute enough. She was exceedingly jealous of her dignity, and never would let Uncle Sam have a finger in any pie of hers; though,
sometimes, when the worthy old gentleman put his
arms a-kimbo, and plucked up courage to say NO to
some of her extravagant schemes of domestic improvement, she made a great to-do, and cackled about
the house for all the world like an old hen that has
lost her last chicken.
The daughters were, in the main, honest, industrious, good girls; but they took after the old lady, in
being most mighty talkers; and, beside this, had a
pestilent notion that Uncle Sam did not do by one
as he did by the other. He never patted one on the
cheek, or kissed her rosy lip, that the rest did not pout
in a corner for a whole day; and, if he happened to
give one of them a new gown or a pair of ear-rings
or any such matter, the others would spit fire at him,
like so many mad pussy-cats, and raise a fine dust in
his chimney-corner. But, notwithstanding these kickups, they were a very united family, and prided
themselves on having a common interest in every



UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.        343
thing. In truth, the little bickerings they sometimes
had were nothing but April showers, that, as it were,
cleared the air, and produced a fresh crop of good-will
and sisterly affection.  One thing was repeatedly observed of them, that let them be quarreling never so
hard, they almost always pulled together against a
common enemy.
But, after living in this way, sometimes falling out,
and invariably making friends again, until many of
them had grown up, a bone of contention was somehow thrown in among them, which, it was feared,
would at length dissolve the family union, that, notwithstanding these little squalls, had furnished an example of prosperity and happiness to the whole country round, insomuch that the neighbours looked up to
it with equal envy and admiration. It seems that
some of the girls, being, as I said before, naturally
given to industrious habits, and fond of making a
trifle of pocket-money for themselves, had set up various little domestic manufactures within doors, such
as spinning, weaving, making straw-bonnets, and the
like; which the others, being inclined to different occupations, such as cultivating the garden, attending
to the dairy, and, it may be, sometimes reading romances and poetry, did hold in great contempt, and
take every opportunity to laugh at incontinently.
This by degrees bred a terrible hubbub in Uncle
Sam's family, insomuch that the worthy patriarch
had no rest night or day, and at divers times applied
to the old lady to interfere. But he only burnt his
fingers, for every-body' said she generally made matters ten times worse by trying to mend them.
Things went on at this rate for some time, and




344      UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.
Uncle Sam was privately heard to declare, that he
most devoutly wished all the young baggages fairly
married and settled off; "though," added the good
simple soul, " heaven help the man that undertakes to
manage them."  At length, step by step, by little and
little, a habit of contention grew up among them, so
that they never met without having a fling at each
other.  One party became perfectly idle, out of pure
spite; and the other spent all their time in huddling
together, scolding and talking, and coming to resolutions to play the dense, and turn up jack in the HOUSE,
if something was not done to quiet the idle jades who
did nothing but skim novels and write verses.
By the marriage-compact between Uncle Sam and
his wife, it was agreed that matters of import in the
family affairs should be talked over and settled in the
old lady's premises, and under her special sanction.
All the privilege reserved to the old gentleman was
that of saying YES and NO; with a special injunction,
that he should avoid the latter on all occasions, on
penalty of a good scolding from his wife and short
commons at dinner. The old gentleman, after casting about, and turning the matter this way and that,
inside and out, upsidedown and topsy-turvy, and
cudgelling his brains till they foamed up like whipsyllabub, at length determined to call these refractory
damsels before the old lady in her own house, and
leave it to her to settle the matter. At the same
time he could not help laughing in his sleeve at what
a devil of a job he had bequeathed her. "Let them
scold it out," thought he; " I wash my hands of it."
So he sat himself down and smoked his pipe, like a
hearty old cock as he was.




UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.        345
Now the obstreperous damsels were accordingly
called together before the old lady, who had a hot cup
of strong tea ready for them, and, having initiated
each into a little gentle excitement by plying her with
the cooling beverage, desired them to tell what they
had to say in as few words as possible; for the old
lady loved to hear herself talk a great deal better than
she did any body else, you may depend upon it.
The first that spoke was one of the elder sisters,
the eldest but one, who was called Miss Massy Twoshoes, a notable, clever, sensible, well-educated, girl, a
great lover of cucumbers and dumb-fish; (but she was
a pretty particular loud talker, for all she liked dumbfish). She stated to the old lady, in as many words
as possible, what I shall not repeat, for the special
reason that I will not be accessory to increasing the
burthens of posterity, which will be condemned to
bear enough without my aid, provided it is obliged to
read all that has already been spoken and written on
the subject.  Suffice it to say, that Miss Massy made
out a tolerably clear case, and proved, to the satisfaction of every-body that was of the same opinion before, that domestic industry consisted entirely of work
done in manufactories, two or three miles from home;
that spinning-jennies were the corner-stones of national prosperity; and weaver's-beams the best of all
possible weapons of defence against a foreign enemy.
The next sister that spoke was Miss Carolina, who
was reckoned one of the genteelest of the family,
though her complexion was a little bronzed, on account of sleeping in a room that fronted the South,
where she was rather too much exposed to the sun.
Whether this southern aspect affected her temper or




346      UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.
not, I can't tell, but she was a high-spirited little body,
and had lately given the old woman, and Uncle Sam
too, a great deal of uneasiness, by threatening to marry
against their consent, and set up for herself under his
very nose. She was a fine girl, but rather fond of
show, and somewhat extravagant with her allowance,
in consequence of which she was sometimes short of
money.  All this she laid at the door of Uncle Sam's
partiality for some of the other sisters, though it was
shrewdly suspected that her being so often out of
pocket was partly owing to her having such a fierce
hankering after travelling and junketing about all
summer, that, the moment the birds began to sing
and the flowers to bloom  at home, neither the old
man nor the old Harry could keep her within doors.
Like the wild ducks and geese, she was seen flying'North as soon as the rivers and lakes were clear of
ice. But for all this I can't help saying that, if I were
a bachelor, I should like to have such a baggage for a
wife, though she is so great an enemy to union that I
fear I should have some trouble to keep her in order.
Be this as it may, Miss Carry made a considerable
long talk, in which she clearly showed, to the satisfaction of those who did not disagree with her, that
domestic industry was occupying one's self abroad
instead of at home; that spinning-jennies were the
foundation of all abominations, and not the pillars
of independence; and that she herself would undertake, with a sling and a stone, to discomfit all the
weaver's-beams in the universe, with Goliath at their
head. How she proved all this I can't explain; for,
may I be " eternally onswoggled," as they say in Kentucky, if I am not so utterly confounded with elucida



UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.        347
tions, vindications, declamations, and observations on
this horrible subject, that if I do not lose my wits
before it is finally settled, I shall certainly, in pure
gratitude, found an hospital for politicians who have
lost their reason by reasoning.
Miss Massy and Miss Carry, being the antipodes
or extremes in this case, like the blades of a pair of
shears, got all the other sisters crimped up between
them, and, as it were, almost cut them inwtwo. There
was Miss Pen, a bouncing girl in a Quaker bonnet, a
plain industrious creature, but a great belle just about
this time, because she had a big voice, held the pursestrings, and carried mighty sway in the family, insomuch that the rest of the sisters complained that for
several years past Uncle Sam and his wife had spent
more money on her than on all the rest of the girls
put together. Pen had a charming face, and an agreeable aspect; but, if you looked at her back, she was
rather Dutch-built, as they say.
Then there was Miss Virginia, the eldest of the
girls, who, I confess, was a great favorite of mine,
though a little proud, and on the shady side of thirty.
She was an independent damsel, who always thought
for herself and acted for herself. She took her own
way in every thing, and went quietly to work, without scolding or making a hubbub in the family, except
on very special occasions. I always thought her a
girl of excellent principles, and looked upon her as
one of the main-stays of Uncle Sam's family, which
she often presided over with dignity and discretion.
Virginia was no great hand at the spinning-jenny and
weaver's-beam, but she was fond of rfral economy,
and delighted in the innocent and gentle excitements




348      UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.
of a country life. Above all, she knew her own mind,
which is an excellent thing in man or woman; and, it
was said correctly, you always knew where to find
her, to wit, at home.
There was also Miss York, as she was called; for I
ought to have observed before, that Uncle Sam and
his old woman had a queer notion of naming many
of their daughters after a parcel of sixteenth cousins
beyond sea.; Miss York was the largest of the family,
a buxom, easy-tempered creature, who had so many
employments about the house, that she did not fly
into a passion when one of them was interfered with.
If she had any fault, it was that of not knowing her
own mind for half an hour together; though, in justice
to her, I must observe that she accounted for these
frequent changes from north to south, and from east
to west, very ingeniously. She was perfectly independent, she said; and girls that could do as they pleased
had a right to change their opinions as often as they
pleased, or where was the use of being one's own
mistress? The rest of the girls often taunted her with
this, but she got off very well by saying it was better
to be a feather, blown about by the wind, than an old,
rusty weathercock, which, if it once got wrong, remained so to the end of time. Probably one reason
why Miss York seemed sometimes to float about, as
it were, without rudder or compass, was, that she
grew so very large that when a notion sprung up in
one end of her head it had so far to travel to reach
the other that it died of old age before it arrived there;
and so, when an impulse waked up in her heart, body
o'me! if I don't suspect it fell fast asleep before it
arrived at the extremities. While it was glowing in




UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.        349
one place, the other remained quite cool; and it
seldom  or never happened, that every part of this
stout spinster was under the same impression at one
and the same time. Now your little people, like Miss
Rhoda, another of Uncle Sam's daughters, are not
subject to such contingencies. A spark will set them
on fire from the roof to the cellar, and the smallest
atom of a little local interest, like a stone thrown into
a puddle, will agitate them from the centre to the circumference. It is next to impossible to make a very
large person angry all over at once, while the prick of
a pin will convulse a little contentious body like Miss
Rhoda. I thought it meet to say thus much in behalf
of a young woman with whom I have long kept company, and for whom, I confess between ourselves, I
have a bashful predilection, especially as some certain
persons, who owe all their consequence to her patronage and good-will, have lately taken upon themselves
to disparage her before Uncle Sam  and the old
woman, more than once. I maintain that she can
hold up her head on every occasion and everywhere,
with any of Uncle Sam's girls, and snap her fingers
at her detractors, who are no better than they should
be; and, indeed, not half so good, for that matter.
On one side of Miss York sat a sly little toad, Miss
Connecticut  a hard name for a spinster; (but, never
mind, young ladies always live in hopes of getting
rid of such incumbrances; ) and on the other, a tight,
small affair of a damsel, known among the family as
little Jersey Blue, from her having a couple of as beautiful blue eyes as ever looked through a pair of spectacles. Little Conn, as she was called, was a mighty
snug, steady-going girl; a trifle prinky, but not averse




350      UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.
to a training or a thanksgiving-frolic. There was
nothing she loved like sparking it of a Saturday
night; and nothing she abominated like travelling on
Sundays, unless to church to be married.  She had
several sweethearts in her day; but, somehow  or
other, lost them all. However, she did very well by
the matter, for she prosecuted them for a breach of
promise, and recovered damages sufficient to console
the most inconsolable damsel that ever died of a
broken heart. She was an industrious, pains-taking
body, and the best hand at house-keeping among
Uncle Sam's daughters. She saved all the goosefeathers, and could make wooden nutmegs that would
deceive any of the Coenties Slip grocers.
Little Jersey Blue and Miss York slept in the same
room, together; but, as frequently happens, they did
not agree the better for that. It seems that an old
gentleman, called in the family Uncle Charles, had, a
great many years ago, when they were very young,
bequeathed them each a piece of land, which when
they grew up they cultivated as garden-plots. A creek
ran between them, which abounded in fish and oysters,
of which the girls were excessively fond; and they
were eternally disputing about this matter, though
every body said there was quite enough for both of
them. Miss York claimed the whole creek, because,
she said, her piece of land was six times as large as
the other; but little Jersey Blue, who had a tongue
and a temper of her own, flouted such notions. She
said, that if Uncle Charles was such a fool as to give
her sister all the land, she was not such a fool as
to give up all the water, and therefore she was resolved to have her full share of the oysters. This




UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.        351
bred great contentions between them, insomuch that I
am sorry to say they at last got to pulling caps over
a fine oyster-bed. Hereupon the friends of the family
interfered, and advised them, as they were both of
age, to go to law about the matter, which many people thought was getting out of the frying-pan into
the fire. However, Miss York, being, as I said, a
good-natured, fat, spinster, consented to waive her
rights, and both sides referred the matter to the justice,
each secretly determining in her own mind to submit
quietly to his decision, provided it was in her own
favour: and thus the affair stood at the period of
which I speak.
But it is high time I say something of Uncle Sam's
youngest daughter, who, because she slept in the west
chamber of the house, which was very large, went by
the name of the Great West; for she was quite stout
of her age, and had grown up, like Jack's bean-stalk,
in a single night, and presumed not a little on her
great size.  Some people said she had rather outgrown her discretion, but it was behind her back, for
if she had heard it, I warrant you she would have
given them a sound box on the ear. She was a wild,
graceful hoyden, that cared nothing for dress, and was
all the while riding on horseback; that is when she
could get a horse to ride, for Uncle Sam was very
much afraid she would meet with some accident, she
rode at such a rate. But she was a fine, high-spirited
girl, an honour to the family, and one who would
make an excellent wife to a man that carried a tight
rein and sat stiff in the saddle. There were several
other daughters, whose names I shall not particularize
in this place, but who, (some of them at least), will be
noticed by and by.




352      UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.
The time being come, they all appeared in their
best bibs and tuckers, in the presence of the old lady,
who had thrown open the great hall of the HOUSE, and
made up her mind, for the first time since she was
married, to listen instead of talk. Uncle Sam kept
at an awful distance, for he had heard enough about
this business to serve him all the rest of his life. Being requested to speak according to their respective
ages, and not to interrupt each other, Miss Virginia
opened the case.
She was moderate, didactic, and metaphysical; but,
on the whole, made a very respectable figure on the
occasion; and, as she had a right to do, (being the eldest), treated the younger girls to a weary deal of
good advice about obeying their parents, loving each
other with a sisterly affection, and preserving the family union. When she came to this part of her speech,
little Carry could stand it no longer, but interrupted
her in a great passion.
" Union!" said she-" marry, come up! I should
like to know what I get by the family union, but cuffs,
instead of coppers? See here, I have calculated the
value of the union to a fraction, and find that I have
lost at least six and eightpence of my pocket-money
by it, already."
Then she showed her calculation, which would
have puzzled Mr. Bowditch himself, for she knew no
more about ciphering than the man in the moon.
"Well, my dear Carry," said Miss York, with her
usual good-nature, "suppose you have lost six and
eightpence- what then?  You have only to stay at
home next summer, instead of travelling about as you
do every season, and you'll save ten times as much.




UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.       353
Now do be a good girl, do Carry, and mind what
your parents say to you."
"I'll tell you what, sister," replied Miss Carry,
"you'd better go and look to your oyster-beds, and let
me alone."
And then she fell to calculating the value of the
family union, again; but, happening to miss a figure
or two, she made out her losses to be so great, that
she almost fell into hysterics. I ought to have mentioned, in the beginning of this true history, that, after
Uncle Sam had been argued out of his lands in the
manner I formerly stated, he grew so poor, that each
of the girls who had come in for a share of the family
spoils was obliged to pay her proportion of the expenses of house-keeping.
When Miss Virginia had got through, Miss Massy
Twoshoes replied, and talked a great deal about the
old story of spinning-jennies and weaver's-beams.
But as this is a worn-out topic, I shall refer to the
seventeen thousand volumes of documents, reports,
addresses, speeches, &c., that have been perpetrated
on the subject. She concluded by giving poor little
Carry a lecture on disobedience to her parents; but
she got as good as she gave, for the peppery brunette
cut her short.
"The less you say about that matter, Miss Goody
Twoshoes, the better," said she. "I suppose you
have forgot, for it is very convenient to have a short
memory sometimes — I suppose you have forgot,
when daddy was fighting, not long ago, with old
John Bull, in defence of his bacon, how you sneaked
away, and said John was in the right, and that your
poor old father deserved a good beating! And don't
23




354      UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOM ANKIND.
you remember how you threw up your eyes, like a
great hypocritical old maid as you are, and refused to
rejoice, when he at last got the better of his antagonist? Ha! hah! Miss Goody Twoshoes, I've not lost
my memory, though it seems you have."
Miss Massy did not pretend to deny this, but flung
up her hands, and exclaimed, "what a little vixen! "
Miss Virginia, and Miss Pen, and Miss Georgiana
the next sister to little Carry, and the Great West,
all called out shame on her, for treating her elder sister in this manner; but as for Miss York, she had got
such a wipe about her oyster war, that she sat with
folded arms, as quiet as a lamb. But little Carry was
a match for them all. She turned to Virginia, and
exclaimed,
" You needn't talk, madam: - how long is it since
you wrote a saucy letter to our father, telling him as
much as that he was an old fool, and didn't know his
own rights, or those of his daughters?  If I don't
mistake, you were very obedient then, for you threatened, if he didn't mind his p's and q's, you'd quit his
house and kill your own mutton. As for you, Miss Pen,
with your Quaker bonnet and smooth face - how I do
hate hypocritical faces  - as for you, Miss — I am
almost ashamed to talk about such a filthy subjectbut didn't you once fly in the face of our good father,
(at least I thought him so then), because -because
- pshaw! it makes me sick to think of it — because
he raised the price of his whiskey? And as for you,
Miss Georgiana, you'd better go home and take care
of the poor old Cherokee Indian you want to turn out
of the farm old uncle Charles left you, like a great oaf
as he was; and you'd better go and settle that matter




UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.       355
about the parson - you understand me, sister. Marry,
come up! instead of lecturing and lecturing one in
this manner, I tell you again, I've calculated the value
of the family union to a fraction, and settled the
balance by Cocker's Arithmetic, and there's an end
of it."
Then she turned round to the Great West: 
" As for you, you great overgrown awkward thing,
you'd better go home too, and put on your moccasons.
Only look at the creature, in her homespun frock,
stitched with bark, and pinned with great thorns!
What a pretty figure you'd make in a drawing-room
-and who's your mantua-maker, pray? I suppose
you don't remember either, when you threatened the
old gentleman, to run away, the Lord knows where,
because he did not choose to go to loggerheads with
one of his neighbors, about a mill-stream he would
not let you sail bark-boats on? Once for all, I tell
you, you're all as deep in the mud as I am in the
mire, and had better be quiet about the family union.
There isn't one of you that has not deserved to be
well switched, half a dozen times."
This broadside pretty conclusively silenced Miss
Massy Twoshoes and the rest of them, and almost
overawed the old lady, who could not help in her
heart, however, being proud of a daughter so much
like herself, in the matter of having a tongue in her
head.  After considering a short time, she looked
round, and fixed her attention on Miss York, whose
good-temper and discretion she looked to, in a great
measure, for settling all the family feuds. She accordingly called upon her for an opinion on the best
mode of bringing about so desirable a consummation.




356      UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.
The good spinster was somewhat puzzled.  The
truth is, her head had one opinion, and her heels
another; the heart was pretty decided, but the ends of
the fingers and toes, being; as I observed before, such
a great way off, had each a different bias, and could
by no means be brought to a proper understanding
with each other. The consequence was, the poor girl
was pulled so many different ways, that she could
hardly hold together, and spoke first on one side of
the question, then on the other, until Satan himself
would have been puzzled to tell her real opinion, if she
had any, which was doubtful.
Now, if I had been the old lady, I should have
made something like the following speech.
" Sit down, you overgrown goose, sit down till you
can make up your mind to say something a body can
understand. And now hear me, young ladies. Touching the blessings and advantages of the family union,
which I hope none of you doubt or disparage, except
Miss Carry, who I advise to stay where she is, for
nobody else will take in such a little vixen - touching
the family union, I say, I trust there is no necessity
for me to point out its benefits and blessings. Miss
Carry may calculate them if she pleases, but I can't
help laughing to think of her pretending to cipher,
when I remember she never could tell the amount of
three yards of calico at sixpence a yard. But, as I
was saying - what was I saying? — O!, you will
never agree, if you continue to differ in this way all
your lives: at least, that is my present opinion. The
best manner of settling this question will be, to think
of the manifold advantages of sisterly and domestic
union —the strength, the wealth, the dignity and




UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.        357
happiness it communicates to all- and not, like
Carry there, calculate the six and eightpence it costs
to keep the pot boiling and the chimney-corner warm.
And then, how unseemly and wicked it is, for sisters
to be always squabbling and fighting, and calling each
other names, and falling into fits of envy and jealousy,
because one outgrows the other, or is a little handsomer; or because their parents give one a ring,
another a new gown, another a pair of silk stockings.
Such carryings-on disgrace a family, let it be never
so prosperous, and prevent its members ever being
happy or respectable. I'll tell you what, girls, you
will become the laughing-stock of the neighbourhood,
and not one of the young men will ever cast a sheep'seye at you. You'll never be married if you go on in
this way; and as for Carry, I pity the poor man, if
there be any such desperate character in the world,
who should undertake her guidance.  She'll lead him
a dance, I'll be bound. My dear daughters, I beg of
you now, join hands, be friends, sisters, again, and
each follow your own tastes, inclinations, and employments, without interfering with those of the others.
Massy, and the rest of you that like, can spin and
weave, while you, Virginia, and those that choose,
may cultivate your fruits and vegetables and gardenflowers, and milk the cows, in peace and quiet. All
these employments are equally useful in their proper
sphere, and under proper discipline, and all essential
to the welfare of your father's house. Come now, be
good girls —kiss, and be friends —and may heaven
bless you all, my dear daughters."
But, instead of making such a discreet commonplace speech as this, the old lady talked all round the




358      UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.
compass ten times worse than Miss York.  She
declaimed and flourished away, first lauding the spinning-jenny and weaver's-beam, then denouncing them
as pestilent innovations and praising the simplicity of
a country life and rural occupations, until neither she
herself, her daughters, nor any body else, could tell
what her opinion on the subject was. In short, after
talking herself dry, and tiring her hearers to death,
she concluded by coming to no conclusion, at the
same time beseeching the girls to have patience, keep
their tempers, shake hands, and be friends.
"Well, for my part," said Miss Massy Twoshoes,
" I have not the least objection, provided I can have
my will in one thing."
" Nor I," said Miss Carry, " on the same condition."
" Nor I," echoed all the others in chorus.
" My dear children," cried the old lady, with tears
in her eyes, " how  your poor old father will be
delighted with your dutiful submission. And what
is it my darlings would have?   What is this condition?"
" That we each of us have our own way in everything," cried the sisters, in full chorus.
The old lady was struck dumb at this new mode
of preserving the family union.
" Go," said she at length, " go to your old father,
receive his blessing, and quit our presence forever, if
such is your wicked will."
The refractory baggages obeyed her for once in
their lives, and departed, crying out together, " Divided we stand, united we fall."
Thus was the great union of Uncle Sam's family
dissolved forever. But the vengeance of heaven over



UNCLE SAM AND HIS WOMANKIND.        359
took these unnatural children. Wherever they went,
people pointed their fingers at them, and cried out, in
their hearing, " here are the foolish virgins, that calculated the value of a family union by pounds, shillings,
and pence, and left the house of their father because
they could not have their own way in every thing."
Nobody would receive them, nobody would associate
with them, and they wandered about in rags and beggary, a prey to each other, a scoff to the virtuous,
a mark for the finger of scorn. They lived, and died,
miserably. Poor Carry, the ringleader in this monstrous affair, was inveigled into the arms of a wily
stranger, who, after robbing her of all she had, honour, virtue, reputation, and fortune, " flung her like a
worthless weed away," and left her to perish by the
roadside.








HASCGHBASCH,
THE  PEARL-DIVER.








HASCHBASCI,
THE   PEA I L-DIV ER.
HASCIBASCH was held, by general consent, the best
diver in all the Gulf of Ormuz. He would plunge
deeper, stay longer, and come up drier than any halfhorse-half-alligator in the whole western hemisphere.
But, somehow or other, he was always. unsuccessful;
if he brought up both hands full of oysters, ten to one
they did not contain a pearl; so that at last he got to
be a byword among his fellows, who used to call an
oyster without a pearl, " one of Haschbasch's oysters."
One day, after frequent disappointments in diving,
he, in a fit of despair, threw an oyster, which he knew
was too plump and healthy to have any pearls in it,'
so violently against a rock hard by, that it broke the
shell; whereupon he was not only astonished, but
alarmed, to see a volume of smoke ascending from
the fragments. As it gradually cleared away, he beheld a little squab genius, with an oyster knife in his
hand, and so fat that he might well have passed for
the personification of a veritable Blue-Pointer.
Haschbasch contemplated the droll figure till he
recovered from his terror, and fell to laughing with
all his might. At length he exclaimed,




364       HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVEB.
"Who art thou, and whence didst thou come?"
"I am the Genius of Oysters," replied the strange
little man, " and I came from the bottom of the sea.
How daredst thou break my palace in this rude manner?"
Haschbasch apologized very respectfully, and explained the cause of his violence, at the same time
appealing to his compassion for pardon.
" Thou lookest so round and jolly," said he, " I am
sure thou must be good-natured. I never heard of
such a person that was otherwise."
" Tell," said the placable genius, " I will not be an
exception. I forgive thee; nay, I will reward thee;
for, between ourselves, I was a prisoner when thou
didst release me. I was shut up by a tyrannical necromancer of an alderman, for eating oysters in a
month that had no r in it. I owe thee a good turndive just where I throw this."
So saying, he flung a chip into the sea, and Haschbasch obeyed his commands. The queer genius swallowed the contents of the broken oyster at one gulp,
and, waddling down to the wave, disappeared in its
blue bosom.
In a few minutes I aschbasch came up with both
hands full of oysters, each of which, on being opened,
was found to contain a pearl as big as a pigeon's
egg.
At that moment the genius emerged from the waters,
and, after puffing like a porpoise, exclaimed, "Go to
Ispahan;" and again vanished, having only come up
to take a mouthful of air.
Haschbasch concealed his prize from every eye, and
shut his lips on the subject as close as an oyster. He




HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.       365
took leave of little Flimflam, the black-eyed daughter
of the collector of the schah's tribute, (who, if he had
dreamed of the large pearls, would have had his head
off in less than no time), and, promising soon to return, departed for the renowned city of Ispahan, where
Schah Hussein, who called himself the " king of kings,"
then reigned, if not in the affections, at least in the
fears of his people.
Haschbasch, after considering a day or two concerning the best manner of disposing of his treasure
on his arrival at Ispahan, at length determined upon
going to the fountain-head at once. We know not
where he got his experience, but he had somehow
found out that in matters of business it was always
best to deal with principals.
Accordingly, one day when the great "king of
kings " was amusing his people with the royal farce
of, " pride in the garb of humility," and listening very
condescendingly to petitions he forgot the next moment, Haschbasch threw himself on his face, licked a
reasonable quantity of dust, and in tones and words
of genuine Eastern humility begged an audience of,
the vicegerent of Allah, the master of the universe,
and the example of the angels.
Schah Hussein was tickled at these new and illustrious titles, which he thought were peculiarly applicable to him, above all his predecessors, not excepting
the great Rustan himself, who is celebrated in the
"Epic of Ferdousi," which contains twenty thousand bad verses. He ordered Haschbasch to wait
the conclusion of the farce, and then attend him at
the palace.
The diver crawled after him to his royal residence,




366       HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.
and, being admitted on all fours, most submissively
petitioned for a private interview, on a matter of the
utmost consequence. He did not forget to conclude
by calling the schah, as before, " vicegerent of Allah,
master of the universe, and example of the angels."
The schah was melted into compliance, and beckoned
him to follow to his private apartment.
When there, Haschbasch prostrated himself three
hundred and sixty-five times, the vicegerent counting
all the while with his fingers.
"Well, slave," cried the schah, "what would thy
insolent' presumption have? Take notice, if thy business is not of sufficient moment to excuse thy bold
request, thou art as dead as the man who offended me
yesterday by sneezing in the midst of a speech I was
making to the representative of the Giaours, who
came to offer me tribute."
Haschbasch thought he had got himself into a pretty
predicament, and trembled so that he could scarcely
find the pearl as big as a pigeon's egg, which he had
brought with him. The schah began to be alarmed,
lest he should be fumbling for a dagger to despatch
him; and was just on the point of calling for help,
when he was struck almost dumb by the sight of the
magnificent bawble.
" Allah! " cried he, snatching it out of the hands of
the shivering diver-" Allah! can I believe my eyes!
Is it not the ghost, the shadow, the counterfeit of a
real pearl? If it be, slave, tremble! for thy life shall
pay the forfeit of my disappointment. Hast thou any
more like this? "
Haschbasch assured him there was not such another
in the world, and that it was genuine.




HASCIHBASC, THE PEARL-DIVER.      367
The schah, on comparing it with some which he
wore about him, became satisfied. He debated in his
own mind whether to purchase it at aly price, or make
short work of the affair, by cutting off Haschbasch's
head and becoming his heir according to the laws
and customs of Persia, that is to say, the will of the
"king of kings."
Justice, however, prevailed. He recollected the
charming titles Haschbach had bestowed upon him,
and that he had thus enabled him to triumph over
his barbarian neighbour, the Giaour of Russia, who
had just drubbed him soundly, and possessed himself
of two or three of his finest provinces.
" He has not such a pearl in his diadem! " exclaimed
he, mentally.-" What is thy price for this treasure?
Quick- tell me this instant, or-"
"Example of the angels!", cried Haschbasch, "a
mere trifle - nothing but to make me governor of the
city, with the title of prince, and appoint a deputy to
do the drudgery, while I pocket the honours and the
money."
"Thou art the most reasonable of slaves," cried the
schah in transport; " I would have given thee the city,
and all the inhabitants for slaves, rather than have
missed this opportunity to eclipse the barbarian
Giaour. Give me the pearl, and take thy wish."
The bargain was struck, and Haschbasch departed,
governor of Ispahan, and a prince. The next day he
took possession of his post, and appeared in a turban
as large as a small balloon. The people neither missed
their old governor, who had met the destiny of the
bowstring, nor wondered at their new. They were
used to such matters.




368       HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.
Haschbasch was a tolerable ruler, as times go. He
made a number of wise regulations, which he forgot
to see put into execution; and issued a vast quantity
of proclamations, to which nobody paid the least attention. However, he boasted of the reformation he
had brought about, and smoked a golden pipe, eighteen
feet long, with entire satisfaction. His deputy was
a capital fellow: according to contract, he did all his
excellency's work for him -but he did not give him
all the money.  He thought he had a right to a
trifle of sly bribery and extortion, on his own proper
account    and what deputy can blame him?
Haschbasch for a while was as happy as a little
king; nay, much happier than a little king in these
degenerate days. Nobody troubled him with protocols,
and non-intervention. He had his dancing-girls, his
story-tellers, his poets, and his parasites, who swore
by Allah he was fit to be Schah of Persia. He ate
hugely of the richest viands; he drank, under the rose,
wine dearer than Chateau Margaux; he sung odes of
Hafiz, till he could neither see nor hear; and, in time,
he waxed as fat as the Genius of Oysters.
But - alas! that mortal man cannot enjoy all these
things without paying more for them than they are
worth!- Haschbasch began to be sleepy all day, and
wakeful all night. His deputy took upon him all the
duties of his principal, and Haschbasch could not eat,
and drink, and sing odes, and admire the dancinggirls for ever. He sometimes longed for a dive, by
way of variety, even though he should bring up nothing but oysters without any pearls.
One hot, debilitating day, he sat in a listless, tedious,
laborious sort. of apathy, in a cool gallery that over



HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.       369
looked the street. He yawned once, twice, thrice, and 
at length exclaimed, audibly, though almost unconsciously, to himself,
" Oh, Allah! if I only had SOMETHING to do!"
" Oh, Mohammed! if I only had NOTHING to do!"
answered a voice in the street, directly under the gallery.
He looked down, and beheld a diminutive hunchback of a fellow, about four feet high, and as crooked
as a ram's horn, bending under two heavy buckets.
" Who art thou? cried Haschbasch, rubbing his
eyes.
"Buzbuz, the water-carrier," replied the other.
What wouldst thou?"
" I should like to be a governor. Thou saidst just
now, thou didst want something to do, and I want
nothing to do. Let us exchange, and each will have
his wish."
" Thou art a merry slave. I cannot give thee my
office, but I constitute thee my jester.  Thou shalt
make me laugh, and I will make a man of thee. Come
hither."
" Thou must add a cubit to my stature before thou
canst do that; however, I accept thy offer, and, if thou
only lnewest how lazy I am, thou wouldst pity me."
Buzbuz proved an invaluable auxiliary in assisting
Haschbasch to kill time. His spirits were inexhaustible; and, if not always witty, he never lacked impudence, which sometimes does just as well. At length
Haschbasch willed him to give some account of himself.
"I was born crooked, as thou seest me now," said
he, " which was a great happiness; for I never knew
24




370       HASCHBASCH,.THE PEARL-DIVER.
what it was to be straight, and therefore escaped the
curse of being miserable by comparison. I was apprenticed to a water-carrier, who made me carry twice
as much as other people, because, as he wisely said,
there was no danger of spoiling my shape; and I was
just on the point of trying to better my fortune, by
making the most of my figure in a matrimonial speculation, when your highness had the good-fortune to
take me into your service. Such is my history; now,
tell me thine. I bet my old buckets against thy turban,
thou hast been a diver in thy time."'" Why so?" said Hascascbsch, somewhat startled.
" Why, because thou art always bobbing thy head,
as if thou wast going to plunge into the water."
" Thou art a sage," said the governor, and related
his story, substituting a single pearl for the handful
he had acquired through the favour of the Genius of
Oysters.
" Oh Prophet!" exclaimed Buzbuz, "'what is the
difference between a pearl-diver and a water-carrier,
that thou shouldst make a governor of the one and a
jester of the other?  Destiny, destiny, thou art more
blind than a bat - she at least sees in the dark."
Haschbasch laughed at this sally; but he soon had
cause to repent of the disclosure of his early life.
Buzbuz was continually joking about his former calling; and, though he always did it when they were
alone together, it was not relished. Haschbasch loved
to hear others made game of, but to be made game of
himself was quite a different affair.
On one occasion, the great mufti of Ispahan, a sort
of Mohammedan archbishop, came to visit Haschbasch in state, to negotiate a marriage between the




HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.       371
governor and his niece, who was a first-rate beauty,
and very fond of hearing the odes of Hafiz. There
was any quantity of ceremony between them, and the
matter was finally settled.
" Thou didst bow to the great mufti just as if thou
wert going to take a dive for pearls," said Buzbuz
when he was gone, laughing ready to kill himself.
But he soon laughed on the wrong side of his mouth.
The governor became wroth at length, at being so
frequently reminded of his profession, and turned his
jester neck and heels into the street.
" Never mind," quoth Buzbuz, as he took up his old
buckets -" never mind; from the capital jester to a
dull governor, I am become a poor water-carrier, once
more; who knows but, from a stupid governor, thou
mayst become a half-starved pearl-diver again."
"Off with his head! " cried Haschbasch, like King
Dick in the tragedy. But the carrier disappeared in
a twinkling, and he never laid eyes on him again.
The marriage of Haschbasch and the niece of the
great mufti took place shortly afterwards; and, for a
few days, he was the happiest of all governors, except
the governor of one of the "old thirteen."  But his
wife, whose name was Fatima, was a perfect Mrs.
Bluebeard for curiosity. She ransacked every hole
and corner of the house, to see what was in it; and
nothing baffled her but a small box of gold, so massy
she could not break it open, and so fastened that she
could not come at the secret.
The next day, the next, and the next, she was observed to be low-spirited, and her low-spirits increased
with every passing hour.  Haschbasch sometimes
found her in tears, which he kissed away; but, though




372       HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.
this act of kindness ought to have stopped the tears
of any reasonable woman, those of Fatima only flowed
the faster. Haschbasch conjured her to tell him the
cause of her sorrows; but she shook her head mournfully, and sobbed out,
" Thou-ou-ou - do-do-dost not - lov-v-e   me 
ech  " - and her heart seemed almost ready to break.
The governor swore by the sacred camel of Mohammed, and by the white beard of her uncle the mufti
which was not half so white as her fair neck, that he
loved her better than his office. But even this did
not satisfy her, and in less than a week she took to
her bed.
Poor Haschbasch was almost distracted. He went
to her, and, kneeling at her bedside, or rather -to be
orientally orthodox and particular - at the side of her
couch, swore by the Prophet, that there was nothing
on the face of the earth he would not do to convince
her of his affection.
" Tell me, tell me," said Fatima, in a weak and
plaintive voice, - " what is contained in the little gold
box thou keepest so carefully closed from thy devoted
wife?"
" Beard of the Prophet!" exclaimed the husband,
" how didst thou come to know of that box? "
" By accident, lord of my soul," said Fatima; " but
thou hast sworn, and here I promise to be a happy
and obedient slave to thee if thou wilt open it in my
presence."
Haschbasch dared not break his oath. Turning all
the attendants out of the room, he proceeded to the
secret depository, brought back the box, and touched
the unseen spring. His wife shrieked, clasped her




HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.       373
hands, and almost fainted at the sight of a dozen
pearls as large as pigeons' eggs. She was never tired
of handling and admiring them; and the governor was
at length obliged to force them from her, which occasioned a paroxysm of her old disorder.
Her illness increased every hour, until Haschbasch
again became alarmed, and was wrought upon to
make her the same rash promise, and with the same
rash sanction, as before.
The lady took him at his word, and demanded her
choice of the beautiful pearls. Haschbasch trembled,
and obeyed; but, ere he did so, he related the history
of the bargain with the schah, to whom he had sold a
similar pearl, under a solemn assurance that it was
the only one of its kind in the universe.
"My office, nay, my head, will pay the forfeit of the
discovery of this falsehood. Take thy choice; but,
before thou dost so, promise to me, on thy duty as a
wife, thy faith as a true believer, that thou wilt never
wear this bawble, nor disclose to any living being that
it is in thy possession."
Fatima complied, the pearl became her own, and
her health was restored, as if by miracle. The old
mufti ascribed it to his prayers and a vow to get up
a grand pilgrimage to Mecca if his niece recovered.
Nothing could equal the childish delight of the governor's lady, in the possession of a pearl as large and
as perfect as that of the great schah himself.  She
looked at it ten hours every day, and it seemed as if
she would never be tired of admiring it. The thought,
however, at last struck her, on a sudden, that there
was little pleasure in its possession so long as nobody
knew of it. She might as well not have it at all.




374       HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.
From that moment she began to be unhappy. One
day, the dearest friend she had in the world called to
see her, wearing a beautiful amethyst her husband
had just presented her.
" If I could only show h'er my pearl, as large as a
pigeon's egg and as white as the beard of the mufti,
how blue she would look," thought Fatima.
The temptation was irresistible. After exacting a
solemn pledge of secrecy, she exhibited the inestimable treasure to her friend, who almost fainted at the
sight.
"She will tell some of her acquaintances," thought
Fatima, "who will tell it to others; and it will soon
be known, I hope. A fig for the schah, and the terrors
of the governor."
But her friend was faithful to her word, and poor
Fatima was sorely disappointed. A grand festival
was now at hand, and she determined, at all risks, to
exhibit her pearl to the eyes of all but the schah, who
would thus, in all probability, remain ignorant of the
deception practised by Haschbasch. On that unlucky
day the governor was somewhat indisposed, and did,
not attend the ceremony, at which the schah himself
officiated. Fatima, thus freed from the controlling
eye of her husband, dressed herself in all the splendours of Eastern vanity, and placed the pearl in the
centre of a turban, glittering with gold and precious
stones.
Great was the envy and admiration excited by the
jewel, and millions of questions were asked of Fatima
concerning its origin and history; but she kept the
secret, and her imprudence might possibly have passed
without any serious consequences, had not the whis



HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.        375
pers of admiration reached the ears of the schah, who
demanded a sight of the wonderful bawble. Fatima
advanced, trembling like an aspen leaf, and the schah
turned pale with rage. He snatched the pearl from
her turban, and compared it with his own. It was
equally large and equally beautiful, and the passion
of the schah persuaded him it was actually superior
in both respects.
" Slave! " cried he, most ungallantly, -" slave!
whence came this pearl?"
" My husband gave it me," answered she, sinking at
his feet.
" And where is the slave, the traitor? why is he not
here?"
" He is gone to fulfil a vow at the mosque, without
the city, for the recovery of his health," said the poor
wife, resolved to make one effort for the safety of the
governor.
" Follow him, and drag him hither alive, to answer
for deceiving the vicegerent of Allah," exclaimed the
schah.
The unhappy Fatima was permitted to go home,
which she did as fast as possible. In agitated haste
she met her husband, bidding him fly for his life without further explanation, for not a moment was to be
lost. Disguising themselves, they mounted a pair of
swift horses, and, taking an opposite direction from
the mosque whither the guards of the sultan had gone
in search of Haschbasch, fled towards Ormuz like
chaff before the wind. Fatima, in the midst of her
troubles, did not forget to secure the gold box and the
beautiful pearls.
Favoured by their disguise and a series of lucky




376       HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.
accidents, they arrived in safety at the Gulf of Ormuz,
among the old friends and associates of the diver.
" Welcome, Haschbasch! ", exclaimed they.
" And welcome poverty! ", cried Haschbasch, as he
entered his native cottage, now somewhat out of repair; " I will be a diver for pearls, again."
"A diver for nonsense!" cried Fatima. "Look
here! "   and she produced the golden box containing
the pearls as big as pigeons' eggs.
" Curse them!" cried he, snatching it out of her
hand, and fleeing towards the shores of the gulf so
swiftly, that Fatima, who was a Mohammedan beauty,
and somewhat lusty, could not overtake him. He
arrived at the spot where he had seen the genius, and,
opening the box, threw the pearls, one by one, against
the same rock on which he had broken the oyster, so
violently that they were all dashed to pieces.
He had no sooner finished the last than a smoke,
such as he had formerly seen, rose in the same spot,
and, as it slowly dissipated, he again recognised the
little fat Genius of Oysters, as jolly and round as
ever; for, be it remembered, it was now the month of
October, and his old enemy, the necromantic alderman, could not prevent his eating his fill according to
law.
" Thou seest I am better lodged than I was, the last
time we met. But what is the matter, and what brings
thee here?" said the genius.
Haschbasch told the whole story, and concluded by
reproaching the genius for sending him to Ispahan
with such a fatal gift.
" I have scarcely had a comfortable moment," said
he, "since I possessed those accursed pearls."




HASCHBASCH, THE PEARL-DIVER.      877
" I can only give the means of happiness," answered
the genius, " not happiness itself; that depends upon
thyself. Go, and be a diver again; and, if thou art
content with thy lot, thou mayst be happy." So saying, he disappeared for ever in the blue waters, and
Haschbasch returned home.
Fatima scolded him for destroying the pearls, but
she was a good-natured soul, and soon forgave him,
and loved him better than when he was a governor
and a prince.
On the return of Haschbasch with a wife, his old
sweetheart had murmured a little. He took her to
himself as a second helpmate, and Fatima and little
Flimflam lived together in perfect harmony. What a
peace-making religion is that of Mohammed!








KILLING, NO MURDER.








KILLING, NO MTURDER.
A  TRUE  STORY.
I AM a sober, middle-aged, married gentleman, of
a moderate size; with moderate wishes, moderate
means, a moderate family, and everything moderate
about me, except my house, which is too large for my
means, or my family. It is, however, or rather, alas!
it was, an old family mansion, full of old things of no
value but to the owner, as connected with early associations and ancient friends, and I did not like the
idea of converting it into a tavern or boarding-house,
as is the fashion with the young heirs of the present
day. Such as it was, however, although I sometimes
felt a little like the ambitious snail who once crept
into a lobster's shell and came near perishing in a
hard winter, I managed for ten or twelve years to live
in it very comfortably, and to make both ends meet.
My furniture, to be sure, was a little out of fashion,
and here and there a little out at the elbows; but I
always persuaded myself that it was respectable to be
out of fashion, and that new things smacked of new
men, and were, therefore, rather vulgar. Under this
impression, I lived in my old house, with my old-fash



382            KILLING, NO MURDER.
ioned furniture, moderate-sized family, and moderate
means, envying nobody and indebted to no one in the
world.  I had neither gilded furniture, nor grand
mantel-glasses, nor superb chandeliers; but then I had
a few fine pictures and busts, and flattered myself
they were much more genteel than gilded furniture,
grand mantel-glasses, and superb chandeliers. In truth,
I looked down with contempt not only on these, but
on all those who did not agree with me in opinion. I
never asked a person to dinner a second time who
did not admire my busts and pictures, considering
him a vulgar fellow and an admirer of ostentatious
trumpery.
But let no man presume, after reading my story, to
flatter himself he is out of the reach of the infection
of fashion and fashionable opinions. He may hold
out for a certain time, perhaps, but human nature
can't stand forever on the defensive. The example
of all around us is irresistible, sooner or later. The
first shock given to my attachment to respectable oldfashioned furniture and a respectable old foursquare
double house was received from the elbow of a modern worthy, who had grown rich, nobody knew how,
by presiding over the drawing of lotteries, and who
came and built himself a narrow four-story house
right at the side of my honest foursquare double mansion. It had white marble steps, white marble door
and window sills, folding doors and marble mantelpieces, and was as fine as a fiddle, within and without.
It put my rusty old mansion quite out of countenance, as everybody told me, though I assure my
readers I thought it excessively tawdry and in bad
taste.




KILLING, NO MURDER.           383
But, alas! - such is the stupidity of mankind - I
could get nobody to agree with me.
"What has come over your house, lately?" cried
one good-natured visitor; " somehow or'other it don't
look as it used to do."
" WThat makes your house seem so rusty and oldfashioned? " said another good-natured visitor.' Mr. Blankprize has taken the shine off of you,"
said Mrs. Sowerby; " HE HAS KILLED YOUR HOUSE! "
Hereupon the spirit moved me to go out and reconnoitre the venerable mansion. It certainly did look
a little like a chubby, rusty, old-fashioned Quaker by
the side of a first-rate dandy. I picked a quarrel
with it outright, which, by the way, was a very unlucky quarrel. I was not rich enough to pull it down
and build a new one; and it is great folly to quarrel
with an old house until you can get a better. But if
I can't build, I can paint, thought I, and put at least
as good a face on the matter as this opulent lotteryman, my next-door neighbour. Accordingly, I consulted my wife on the subject, who, whether from a spirit
of contradiction, or, to do her justice, I believe from a
correct and rational view of the subject, discouraged
my project. I was only the more determined. So I
caused my honest old house to be painted a bright
cream color, that it might hold up its head against the
scurvy lottery-man.
" Bless me! " quoth Mrs. Smith; "what is the
matter with this room?  It don't look as it used to
do."
" Why, what under the sun have you done to this
room?" cried Mrs. Brown.
"Protect me!" exclaimed Mrs. White; "why, I




384            KILLING, NO MURDER.
seem to have got into a strange room. What is the
matter? "
"YOU'VE KILLED THE INSIDE OF YOUR HOUSE," said
Mrs. Sowerby, " by painting the outside such a bright
color."
It was too true; this was my first crime. Would
I had stopped here!-but destiny determined otherwise. It happened, unfortunately, that my front parlour carpet was of a yellow ground. It was, to be sure,
somewhat faded by time and use; but it comported
very well with the unpretending sobriety of the outside of my house, under the old regime. But the case
was altered now, and the bright cream color of the
outside " killed" the dingy yellow carpet within. So
I bought a new carpet, of a fine orange ground, determined that this should not be killed. It looked very
fine, and I was satisfied. I had done the business
effectually.
" Bless my soul!" cried Mrs. Smith; "what a
sweet pretty carpet!"
" Save us!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown; " why, you
look as fine as twopence!"
" Protect us! " cried Mrs. Sowerby; "what a fashionable affair!" Then, casting a knowing look around
the room, she added, in a tone of hesitating candor,
" But, don't you think, somehow or other, IT KILLS
THE CURTAINS? "
Another murder! thought I;-wretch that I am,
what have I done? What is done cannot be undone;
but I can remedy the affair. So I bought a new suit
of yellow curtains. I thought I had'em now.
Mrs. Sowerby came the very next day.
" Well, I declare, now this is charming! I never




KILLING, NO MURDER.           385
saw more tasty curtains.  But, my dear Mr. Sobersides, somehow or other, don't you think they KILL
THE WALLS?"
Murder again! Killed, four lath-and-plaster walls!
But I'll get the better of Mrs. Sowerby yet. So I got
the walls colored as bright as the curtains, and bade
her defiance in my heart the next time she came.
Mrs. Sowerby arrived as usual.  Her whole life
was spent in visiting about everywhere, and putting
people out of conceit with themselves.
She threw up her eyes and hands. "Well, I declare, Mr. Sobersides, you have done wonders. This
is the real French-white " -which, by the way, my
unlearned readers should know, is yellow. "But,"
continued this pestilent woman, " don't you think that
these bright-colored walls KILL THE CHAIRS?"
Worse and worse! Here were twelve innocent old
arm-chairs, with yellow satin bottoms and backs, murdered in cold blood, by four unfeeling French-white
shiny walls! But there is a remedy for all things but
death. I forthwith procured a new set of chairs as
yellow as custard, and snapped my fingers in triumph
at Mrs. Sowerby the next time she came.
But, alas! what are all the towering hopes of man?
Dust, ashes, emptiness, nothing. Mrs. Sowerby was
not yet satisfied. She thought the chairs beautiful: 
" But, then, my dear friend," said she, after a solemn
and appalling pause, "my dear friend, these bright
yellow  satin  chairs  HAVE  KILLED  THE  PICTUREFRAMES."
And so they had, as dead as Julius Caesar; the picture-frames looked like old lumber in the midst of all
25




386            KILLING, NO MURDER.
my improvements. There was no help for it, and
away went the frames to Messrs. Parker and Clover.
In good time they came back, "redeemed, regenerated, and disenthralled."  I was so satisfied now that
there was nothing left in my parlour to be killed, that
I could hardly sleep that night, so impatient was I to
see Mrs. Sowerby.
That baleful creature, when she came next day,
looked round in evident disappointment, but exclaimed, with great appearance of cordiality,
"' Well, now I declare, it's all perfect; there is not a
handsomer room in town."
Thank heaven! thought I, I have committed no
more murders. But I reckoned without my host. I
was destined to go on murdering, in spite of me.
The spring was now coming on, and, the weather
being mild, the folding doors had been thrown open
between the front and back parlours. This latter was
furnished with green, somewhat faded I confess. I
had heretofore considered it the sanctum sanctorum of
the establishment. It was only used on extraordinary
occasions, such as Christmas and New-Year days,
when all the family dined with me, bringing their
little children with them to gormandize themselves
sick. The room looked very well by itself; but, alas!
the moment Mrs. Sowerby caught sight of it, her eye
brightened -fatal omen!
" Why, my dear Mr. Sobersides, what has got into
your back parlour?  It used to be so genteel and
smart. Why, I believe I'm losing my eyesight. The
green carpet and curtains look quite yellow, I think.
0, I see it now —THE FRONT PARLOUR HAS KILLED THE
BACK ONE! "




KILLING, NO MURDER.            387
The dickens! Here was another pretty piece of
business. I must either keep the door shut all summer and be roasted, or be charged with killing a
whole parlour - carpet, curtains, chairs, sofas, walls,
and all.
It would be a mere repetition to relate how this
wicked woman again led me on from one murder to
another. First the new carpet " killed" the curtains;
then the new curtains "killed" the walls; the new
painted walls "killed" the old satin chairs; and so,
by little and little, all my honest old green furniture
went the way of the honest old yellow.
" The spell is broken at last," cried I, rubbing my
hands in ecstasy. Neither my front nor back parlour
can commit any more assassinations. Elated with the
idea, I was waiting on Mrs. Sowerby to the front door,
when suddenly she stopped short at the foot of the
old-fashioned winding staircase, the carpet of which,
I confess, was here and there infested with that modern abomination - a darn. It was, moreover, rather
dingy and faded.
" Your back parlour HAS KILLED YOUR HALL," said
Mrs. Sowerby.
And so it had. Coming out of the splendour of the
former, the latter had the same effect on the beholder
as a bad set of teeth in a fine face, or an old rusty
iron grate in a handsome room.
I began to be desperate.  I had been accessory to
so many cruel murders that my conscience became
seared, and I went on, led by the wiles of this daughter of Satan, to murder my way from the groundfloor to the cockloft, without sparing a single soul.
Nothing escaped but the garret, which, having been




388            KILLING, NO MURDER.
for half a century the depository of all our broken or
banished household gods, resembled Hogarth's picture
of the' End of the World," and defied the arts of
that mischievous monster, Mrs. Sowerby.
My house was now fairly revolutionized, or rather,
reformed, after the French mode, by a process of indiscriminate destruction.
I did not, like Alexander, after having thus conquered one world, sigh for another to conquer. I sat
down to enjoy my victory under the shade of my
laurels. But, alas!, disappointment ever follows at the
heels of fruition. It is pleasant to dance, until we come
to pay the piper. By the time custom had familiarized me to my new glories, and they had become
somewhat indifferent, bills came pouring in by dozens,
and it was impossible to kill my duns as I had done
my old furniture, except by paying them, a mode of
destroying these troublesome vermin not always convenient or agreeable. From the period of commencing housekeeping until now, I had never once had
occasion to put off the payment of a bill. I prided
myself on always paying ready money for everything,
and it was an honest pride. I can hardly express the
mortification I felt at being now occasionally under
the necessity of giving excuses instead of money. I
had a miserable invention at this sort of work of
imagination, and sometimes, when more than usually
barren, I got into a passion, which is a common shift
of people when they don't know what else to do.
More than once I found myself suddenly turning a
corner in a great hurry, or planting myself before the
window of a picture-shop, studying it very attentively, so as not to notice certain persons, the very




KILLING, NO MURDER.           389
sight of whom is always painful to people of nice
sensibility.
Not being hardened to such trifles by long use, I
felt rather sore and irritable. Under the old refgire it
had always been a pleasure to me to hear a ring at
the door, because it was the signal for an agreeable
visitor; but now it excited disagreeable apprehensions, and sounded like the knell of a dun. In short,
I grew crusty and fidgety by degrees, insomuch that
Mrs. Sowerby often exclaimed:"Why, what has come over you, Mr. Sobersides?
Why, I declare, somehow or other you don't seem the
same man you used to be."
I could have answered, "The new Mr. Sobersides
has killed the old Mr. Sobersides."  But I said nothing, and only wished her up in the garret, among the
old furniture.
My system of reform produced another source of
worrying. Hitherto my old furniture and myself had
been so long acquainted, that I could take all sorts of
liberties with it. I could recline on the sofas of an
evening, or sit on one of the old chairs and cross my
legs on another, without the least ceremony. But now,
forsooth!, it is as much as I dare do to sit down upon
one of my new acquaintance; and as for a lounge on
the sofa, which was the Cleopatra for which I would
have lost the world, I should as soon think of taking
a nap in a fine lady's sleeve. As to my little rantipole boys, who had hitherto feared neither carpet,
chair, nor sofa, they have at length been schooled into
such awe of finery, that they walk about the parlour
on tiptoe, sit on the edge of a chair with trepidation,
and contemplate the sofas at a distance with the most




390            KILLING, NO MURDER.
profound veneration, as unapproachable divinities.
To cap the climax of my ill-starred follies, my easyold-shoe friends, who came to see me without ceremony because they felt comfortable and welcome,
have gradually become shy of my novel magnificence; and the last of them was the other evening
fairly looked out of the house by a certain person, for
spitting accidentally upon a new brass fender, that
shone like the sun at noonday.
I might hope that in the course of time these evils
would be mitigated by the furniture growing old and
sociable by degrees, but there is little prospect of this,
because it is too fine for common use. The carpet is
always protected by a worn crum-cloth, full of holes
and stains; the sofas and chairs are in dingy coversluts, except on extraordinary occasions, and I fear
they will last forever —at least, longer than I shall.
I sometimes solace myself with the anticipation that
my children may live long enough to sit on the sofas
with impunity, and walk on the carpet without going
on tiptoe.
There would be some consolation in the midst of
these sore evils if I could only fix the reproach of them
on my wife. Many philosophers are of opinion, that
this single privilege of matrimony is more than equivalent to all the rubs and disappointments of life; and I
have heard a very wise person affirm, that he would not
mind being ruined, at all, if he could only blame his
wife for it. But I must do mine the justice to say,
that she combated Mrs. Sowerby gallantly, and threw
every obstacle in the way of my rash improvements,
advocating the cause of every piece of old furniture
with a zeal worthy of better success. I alone am to




KILLING, NO MURDER.         391
blame in having yielded to the temptations of that
wicked woman, Mrs. Sowerby; and, as a man who
has ruined himself by his own imprudence is the better qualified for giving good advice, I have written
this sketch of my own history, to caution all honest,
sober, discreet people against commencing a system
of reform in their household. LET THEM BEWARE OF
THE FIRST MURDER!








SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.








SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.
FROM my earliest recollection I have felt a great
disposition to travel, which I inherit from my mother,
who had a special vocation for out-door business, and
who never missed a camp-meeting, an execution, or a
quilting-frolic. So strong was this impulse, which I
may almost call instinctive, that I remember on one
occasion, instead of going to school, which was close
by, I wandered away to a horse-race, several miles
distant; and, at another time, being sent on an errand
to a neighboring grocery store, I strolled to a pond a
long way off, where I amused myself with skating on
a pair of ox-bones. In short, my mother was at last
obliged to dress me in petticoats, to prevent my straying. This passion for wandering increased as I grew
up to manhood, and became at length unconquerable,
in consequence of the late facilities afforded to travellers, by the introduction of steam-boats and locomotives. For my part, I don't see how it is possible for
any rational, intelligent person to stand still in this
age of progress. Even my grandmother —who is
now fourscore, and so afflicted with Neuralgia, as the
doctors call it, that she lies in bed half the time when
at home - goes every year to Wisconsin, to visit a




396          SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.
second cousin; and my good mother often travels
thirty miles, to drink tea and discuss women's rights.
On arriving at the age of twenty-one, and becoming my own master, with a competent fortune, I
determined to indulge this natural propensity. But
an unexpected obstacle presented itself at the outset.
The great difficulty was to find a country that had
not been as often overrun by travellers as Syria and
Egypt by locusts. At one time I had prepared everything for California; but, being unluckily detained a
fortnight by indisposition, I found, on my recovery,
that, in the interim, three tours, five reconnoissances,
and seven explorations had been published. I then
made up my mind to take a trip to the land of Egypt,
and visit the Red Sea, the Dead Sea, Mount Sinai,
and the cataracts of the Nile. But, on talking over
the subject with a knowing bookseller, to whom I
applied to publish my anticipated travels, he pointed
to a whole shelf of books of travels in Egypt, the
Holy Land, Arabia Felix, and Arabia Deserta, which
he assured me contained nothing but repetitions of
each other. I don't wonder at this, since such is the
bad credit of travellers, that nobody will believe them
without an endorser.  Thus, wherever I turned my
face, I found some one had been before me, until I
was fairly driven to Australia, New Zealand, Van
Dieman's Land, and the Mulgrave Islands, for a new
field of action. But here too I was forestalled, by the
discovery of gold in Australia, and was just on the
point of sitting down in despair and turning philanthropist, or " canvassing " for subscriptions to periodicals, both which give great opportunities for seeing
the world, when, lolling on my piazza one evening,




SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.          397
my attention was providentially directed to that
blessed planet, the Moon, which was then shining full
in my face. It at once occurred to me, that, though
I had often seen what pretended to be descriptions of
the Moon by lying travellers and planet-struck stargazers, no authentic account of the country or its
inhabitants had ever been given to the world; for, as
to the legends of my Lord Rosse and the rest of those
impostors that pretend to know so much about these
matters, I shall show in the sequel that they know no
more about them than the Man in the Moon himself
- nay, not one tenth part as much; for I have evidence that he is not such an ignoramus as most people believe.
I therefore resolved at once to make the tour of
the Moon. But how to get there was the difficulty.
Various plans occurred to me, but had to be discarded
as impracticable. At length I determined to consult
the Spirits of Knocking, who all come from the Moon.
Accordingly, I visited a first-rate " medium," who, by
dint of a considerable quantity of knocks, called up
the spirit of Pythagoras, which, after making me
swear to seven years' silence, communicated a process by which any man could ascend to, and descend
from, the Moon, as easily as a ray of light. What
this process is, I cannot disclose without breaking my
faith with Pythagoras; and, if this were not the case,
I should keep the secret, because I mean to reserve
the Moon all to myself, as an inexhaustible mine, and
am perfectly assured, that, if I once showed the way,
the poor planet would be as much pestered with
adventurers as the Isthmus of Panama, the upper
Nile, or California.




398         SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.
Let it suffice, that I arrived safely in the Moon, on
the first of April, 1852, but at what hour I cannot say,
as time goes backwards in that planet, which is a
great advantage to the people, who can thus undo
what they have done, without the least difficulty.
While seeking for lodgings, the people gathered round
in crowds, laughing most vociferously to see me walking forwards instead of backwards, as I found was
the universal custom here. This, they assured me,
was what they called " Progress "  in other words,
growing wise by Experience, the safest of all guides,
who always looks behind him, as every-body knows.
Having brought letters of introduction from Pythagoras, and a learned judge who is well known in the
Moon, I was soon on the best terms with the literary
and scientific portion of the community, one of whom
carried me to pay my respects to the Man in the
Moon, who, though not the actual legitimate sovereign, was a sort of Joe Smith or Brigham Young,
and governed the people by inspiration. I found him
a venerable old man, with a long beard, who, though
bowed down by age, had yet a certain lustrous twinkling of the eyes that spoke volumes. He received me
with great courtesy, and we had a long conversation
on various subjects, in the course of which I discovered he was by no means either a madman or a
simpleton, as has been represented. Indeed, he complained to me of the great injustice that had been
done him in this respect, and condescended to give
me a sketch of his life, of which I shall offer only
a few leading particulars.
He traced all the misfortunes of his career to being
wiser than his neighbors, and always in advance of




SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.         399
the rest of mankind, the consequence of which was,
that everybody called him mad, because he saw things
they could not see, and foretold what never came to
pass, owing to the obstinate, wayward stupidity of
his fellow-creatures, who delighted in arresting events
that ought to have happened, according to all reasonable calculation. It was always a great object of his
ambition, to understand matters incomprehensible to
all others; to achieve undertakings that others pronounced impossible; and to develop mysteries which
had turned the brains of all those-who had meddled
with them. He assured me he had discovered the
principle of perpetual motion, though he could never
bring it into practical application; that he had actually taken the great Beast in Revelation by the horns;
was acquainted with the occult mysteries of Spiritual
Knockings, which he had taught several of his disciples, who had a predisposition to become "mediums;"
and had mastered the process of making gold, which,
however, he now never put in practice, since the discoveries in California and Australia had so diminished
the value of that metal, that it cost more to make it
than it was worth. These studies, which had hitherto
addled other men's brains, he assured me, were mere
sport to him. "But, alas!" said the old gentleman,
" I at length found there were deeper mysteries, more
profound depths of speculation, than these. I undertook to search for the wisdom of Congress, and that
did my business."  He complained bitterly of the injustice done to himself and his people, first, by the
common saying, "I know no more than the man in
the Moon," and secondly, by calling a species of madmen Lunatics, for it was plain to the meanest under



400         SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.
standing, that the people of the Moon, inheriting the
lost wits of all mankind, must of necessity be the
wisest in the world. He also spoke with great indignation of the enormous fallacies set afloat by the
astronomers, concerning the Moon, which he affirmed
had no more to do with the tides, the changes of
weather, the wits of men, or the shrinking of corned
beef, than any of the planets. I was surprised at his
knowing so much about the earth, until he told me
he got all the news from people who were every day
banished from that quarter, for being wiser than their
neighbours.
Having received a passport from the good old man,
with full permission to travel where I pleased, accompanied by a caution against the common infirmity of
travellers, which I have observed most implicitly, I
mounted a Spiritual Telegraph, (a great improvement on that of Mr. Morse), and was precipitated
through the entire planet with such prodigious velocity, that, when I had completed my flight, I found I
knew no more of the country than an English traveller who has made a tour of the United States. I
therefore determined to go over the ground more
leisurely, and adopt the mode of pedestrianism universally practised here, as I mentioned before. I can
assure my readers it is not without its advantages, at
least in point of safety, since it is notorious that a
great portion of the dangers, insults, and aggressions
we encounter in this world approach us from the
rear.
As I proceeded, I found the people separated into
distinct classes, the first in rank of which were the
Spiritual Knockers, who, by virtue of their communion




SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.           401
with superior beings, carried their heads above their
fellow-mortals, who kept only the lowest kind of company. I asked one of them, very civilly, what was
the use of this kind of spiritual agency, and he answered me rather contemptuously-" Use, sir?  I
have already learned by direct communication with
Sir Isaac Newton, that, since he became an inhabitant of the world of spirits, he has discovered that his
system of gravity is only fit to be laughed at; and
have been assured by Franklin that the moving principle of thought, impulse, and action, in all animals,
rational as well as irrational, is electricity. Use, sir?
I should like to know how I could have discovered
all this without communication with the spirits?"  I
spoke of this as being only a revival of the visions
of Swedenborg, which put him in a great passion.
"Swedenborg  " exclaimed he. " Pooh! he only went
half way; but we go the whole hog, as the spirits say
in these parts."
The most numerous, as well as the most zealous
of the Knockers, were spinsters of a certain age, who
seemed inclined to make themselves amends for the
absence of flesh and blood beaux, by midnight flirtations with spiritual ones.  There were, also, some
desperate widows, and not a few persons whom  I
should have mistaken for reverend divines, had they
not been so sweet upon the ladies, who seemed to
take them for spiritual beings, for they did not at all
mind being alone with them  at midnight in bedchambers, in the investigation of these profound mysteries. The great bulk, however, of this sect consisted
of people a little deficient in the furniture of the upper story. I expressed some commiseration for these
26




402          SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.
to a sober, discreet person, who was a looker-on as
well as myself, but he coolly replied, " It is of very
little consequence, for if they had not run mad about
spiritual knockings, they would have gone crazy
about something else equally absurd and ridiculous."
One of the " mediums" asked me if I would not like
to have a talk with my great-great-grandfather, but as
he happened to have been Sus.-per-col., and no great
credit to the family, I declined making his acquaintance.
Travelling onward, I arrived at a great city, where
the inhabitants had made such rapid progress towards
the perfection of everything, that they were compelled
to go backwards in order to accommodate themselves
to the pace of their neighbours. One of the most distinguished of the savans was a famous geologist, who
had become so familiar with the materials of which
the world is composed, that he undertook to make
one to suit himself, and avoid all the errors in the
construction of the old one. Being the great lion of
the place, I paid him a visit, and found him hard at
work, but he confessed that thus far he had made but a
poor business of it. " It is strange," said he; " I have
got all the materials, but, somehow or other, I can't
put them together. I find it is not so easy to make a
world as I thought." The next visit I paid was to a
man who had the reputation of being a great seaman,
though his experience had been principally on land
and in his closet, as I was told. I found him busy in
constructing a theory of winds and currents, by which
he assured me the time and dangers in navigating
vessels would be greatly diminished, if not altogether
annulled. He pointed out to me on the chart the




SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.          403
course which the winds and currents ought to go, if
they respected his theory. "If," said he, " I could
only get that obstinate old fogy, Experience, to be a
little accommodating, I should establish my system
beyond controversy; but, the mischief is, he won't pay
the least attention to me; and, what is still more provoking, the winds and currents are, if possible, yet
more impracticable; they are as obstinate as mules;
and every navigator who, at my request, particularly
noted these matters, assures me they seem to delight
in running counter to my directions. But never mind;
the learned, who study these matters in their closets
and understand them much better than these illiterate
tarpaulins, have all complimented me on my hypothesis, and, what is still better, almost all the members
of Congress have become my converts."
"What!" exclaimed I, "have you a Congress in
the Moon?"
"To be sure we have," replied he. " It is composed
of men who have inherited the greatest possible portion of the lost wits of your planet, and who, I am
happy to say, pay more regard to my theories than to
the experience of all the officers of our navy put together. They are all men of Progress, and, between
ourselves, sometimes are in such a hurry that they
tread on their own noses."
This city abounded in lecturers on every conceivable subject. There was a lecturer on political economy, whom I found discussing a project for getting
immense treasure from all sorts of people, and enriching them by taking it away. There was another, lecturing from a sand-hill to a great crowd, on socialism.
In order to exemplify his theory, he heaped up great




404          SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.
numbers of little sand-hills, all exactly of a size; but,
unfortunately, as fast as he did this, a puff of wind
disturbed the equilibrium of his system, and he was
obliged to begin again. There was a female lecturer,
who, by virtue of having a considerable beard, had set
up as a champion of the rights of women. She was
backed by a patson, who quoted Scripture to show
that the Bible was behind the spirit of the age; and
I could not help thinking that this union of the gown
and the petticoat foreboded an awful catastrophe to
the breeches.
These anticipations were speedily realized; for my
next plunge was into the midst of a Female Republic, established on the principle of the rights of women. As I approached this regenerated region, I
heard a great buzzing in the air, something like that
we observe on approaching a bee-hive. This, I found
on my arrival, proceeded from the legislative hall,
where the female deputies had met, to discuss the
fashions of caps and nether garments becoming their
elevated position. They were all talking at once;
for even the speakeress had her tongue constantly in
motion, crying, " Order, ladies, order." But nobody
seemed to hear her, or at least nobody minded her, and
there was a perfect Babel. Finally, the previous question was called for, which threw several members into
hysterics, and the house separated without adjournment. I was told that they had been in session several
weeks, but no question had as yet been put; and one
of the first practical difficulties experienced in this new
system of petticoat government was found to be the
utter impossibility of bringing a debate to a conclusion.
At the hotel where I put up, I found the landlord




SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.          405
rocking the cradle, and his wife dealing out mintjuleps to a parcel of Rights-of-Women devotees, who
were smoking and chewing tobacco, and swearing like
troopers. I had hitherto been an enthusiastic admirer
of the sex, insomuch that I cannot recollect the time,
since I arrived at years of discretion, in which I was
not desperately in love; and to such a pitch did I carry
this devotion that I have been three times cast in
heavy damages, for breach of promises which I never
made. But ever since I witnessed the scene just described, I never think of a pretty woman without feeling a little qualmish, as it were. Indeed I found the
general complaint of the married women was, that
their husbands no longer loved them; and of the married men, that their wives were always making love
to them, thus infringing on their ancient inalienable
rights. Certain it is, I never witnessed such a state of
things, and was glad to get out of this Female Republic, especially after a strapping damsel had made a
demonstration towards me that I thought very suspicious. Leaving this last stage of Lunar Progress backwards, I next came to another large town, where I
found all the people walking rapidly around in a circle. Behold, on arriving at the point whence they
started, they turned round and went back again. I inquired of one, who was in a great perspiration with
his exertions, what he was doing. " What am  I
doing?" answered he, in high dudgeon, -" don't you
see I am making Progress?"  And away he went,
whirling about like a dervis, or a lady waltzing.
In this city was a famous University, reckoned to
be the most erudite in the Moon, because, though all
the students carried a little learning with them there,




406          SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.
few of them brought any away. Though no great
scholar myself, I am a devoted admirer of learning,
and, having procured a letter of introduction to the
Professor of Transcendentalism, paid him a visit. He
was very polite, and gave me a particular account of
the system of education and discipline practised in
the University. He informed me the basis of the system was utility, and that nothing was taught but
what tended to that primary object.
The first class consisted of little children, of from
five to seven years old, whom the teachers were stuffing with knowledge, as we serve turkeys, by thrusting
it down their throats. I asked the Professor if they
were not sometimes troubled with indigestion, and he
told me, that, whenever this was the case, they stuffed
them a little more, on the principle that the hair of a
dog is good for his bite. They were taught geology,
chemistry, astronomy, geography, and various other
sciences, all at the same time, by questions and answers; and I noticed that, though the organ of memory was prodigiously developed, those of the other
faculties had become almost invisible. They were
not allowed to play at all, the professors being of
opinion that it produced dissipation of mind, and
drew their attention from  their studies. Most of
them looked rather pale and sickly, but the Professor
observed, that, as knowledge was power, physical
weakness was of little consequence. He requested
me to experiment on them, and I found they could
meet almost every question, the answer to which they
had learned from books. I remember I asked one
about the river Mississippi, and he told me it was a
river in North America, which rose in the Gulf of




SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.         407
Mexico, and discharged its waters into Cedar Lake.
I undertook to put him right, but the Professor interposed, and informed me that, according to the theory
of the Moonites, all rivers began where they ended,
and ended where they began.
From this class we proceeded to others, until we
came to that consisting of those who were preparing
to take their degrees. I found them engaged in various occupations, calculated, as the Professor said, to
make them useful citizens. Some of these appeared
to me to be rather strangely employed. I remember
there was one who was washing a blackamoor white,
by rubbing him with an abolition lecture. Another
was planting potatoes in dry straw, and the Professor
assured me, that he would not only have a great crop,
but could at the same. time roast his potatoes by setting fire to the straw. Another was catching beetles,
and suffocating them in a little tin box, which, he
said, was a great step in philanthropy, as this was a
much easier mode of killing them than sticking pins.
Another was extracting water from pumice-stones;
another, milking goats in a sieve; another, shearing
donkeys, and converting their hair into fine fleeces of
wool; another, ploughing with a compass, in order to
make straight furrows; and another, measuring how
far a flea could jump. There were many others very
busily occupied in various equally-useful pursuits, but
I omit them for fear of being tedious.
We next visited the library, which, the Professor
assured me, contained a vast many books to be found
in no other collection. There were certainly many
that I never heard of before, and I took a memorandum of a few of them, with the hope that they may




408          SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.
be one day republished by some of our enterprising
booksellers, especially as they will pay no copyright.
The following list will suggest the general character
of these volumes:
The World of Spirits, by A Teetotaller.
Speculations on Indivisible Atoms, by a Purblind
Philosopher.
Nebuleana; or, the Planets in Embryo.
The Philosophy of Bacon, exemplified in Smoking
Hams.
The Transmigration of Souls proved by the
Change of Tadpoles into Bull-Frogs.
How Oysters may be made to climb up to the Tops
of Mountains.
Dissertation on Chaos, showing how the World was
made by Coral Insects, and rose from the Bottom of the Sea.
The Bottle-Conjurer, or Chemist's Manual.
Pathology of Sneezing.
Trip to Parnassus, or, Rules for Criticising Poetry
on Mechanical Principles.
The Scrub-Race of Politicians.
The System of Progressing Backwards.
Gooseology, or, the Art of Standing on One Leg.
On the Feasibility of establishing a Universal Language of Signs, whereby Dumb Men would be
on a Par with the Rest of their Fellow-Creatures.
Dissertation, proving that all Men's Virtues proceed
from their Faults, and all their Faults from their
Virtues.
The Cobweb of Metaphysicians.
Ichthyophagy, or, the Mysteries of the Loaves and
Fishes.




SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON..        409
Plan for supplying Rivers with Water, by Means
of Hydraulic Rams.
Plan for reforming Scolding Wives, by making all
Married Men deaf.
A Dissertation on the Causes why Old Men lose
the Hair of their Heads, while their Beards continue to grow and flourish.
Remarkable Case of Professor Windygust, who,
having all his Life been accustomed to swallowing Wind-mills, was at length choked by a Lump
of Soft Butter he found at the Mouth of a Hot
Oven.
This is only a small sample of the scarce and valuable books and manuscripts contained in this unique
library. Many of the latter, as the Professor assured
me, were rescued from the flames, during the wanton
destruction of the Alexandrian Library.
The Professor then took me to the Hall of Disputation, where the faculty were debating interesting
questions of science and philosophy. Among the rest,
I remember one that was very learnedly discussed. It
was, whether goat's hair was wool or not; and I was
astonished to find what interesting results were involved in the question. Another was, which of the legs
of a goose was his right one. The great difficulty in
deciding the point was, that one of the disputants
placed himself at the head, the other at the tail, of the
goose. Hence, what appeared to one the right leg
seemed to the other the left. I know not to what
length the argument would have been carried, for both
parties were getting rather warm, had not the moderator suggested that each of the disputants should
imagine himself a goose, and then there would be no




410          SIX WEEKS IN THE MOON.
difficulty in ascertaining which was his right leg.
This simple expedient settled the point to the satisfaction of all parties, and it was decided that the debate should be published in the Transactions of the
Philosophical Society.
I was about to bid farewell to my friend the Professor, and return thanks for his attentions, when I
received a telegraphic despatch, informing me that I
had been "cornered" in a speculation in Canton
stock, entered into previous to the commencement of
my tour. This rendered my immediate presence necessary below stairs, and I accordingly made tracks
towards home, leaving a great part of the moon unexplored. But I faithfully promise the reader, that,
if I once get out of this "corner," without being a
lame duck, he shall one day see the remainder of my
travels.




A MOOD OF NATURE AND OF MAN.








A MOOD OF NATURE AND OF MAN.
I FEEL this morning a sort of humourous sadness;
a sense of loneliness, and absence, and carelessness,
that half amounts to a gentlemanlike melancholy. I
believe I could entertain a score or two of blue devils;
and be actually doleful, if I could only find a tolerable apology for gloom. Unluckily, I cannot light on
a reasonable excuse to be unhappy; for I have got well
of all my complaints, real and imaginary; have a fair
supply of paper-money for my occasions; have buried
my fears of French influence, ever since Napoleon
began to grow fat; - and am a bachelor. Yet for all
this, could I rail at the first-born of Egypt, and even
find fault with the worthy lady at whose dwelling we
now are, detained by a shower, although her face is
the picture of good-humour, and her house the abode
of good cheer. I intended to reason a little this morning on cause and effect- a new subject! - but I
reasoned, as people sometimes get up of a morning,
wrong end foremost. I then joked the waiter, but
got worsted, which only made me more dismal than
before. This state of mind, under the influence of
which the heart falls into a heavy depression, without
any particular cause that we know of, is sometimes




414       A MOOD OF NATURE AND OF MAN.
ascribed to a presentiment of approaching evil-a
warning coming from some mysterious source with
which we are altogether unacquainted. But this is a
superstitious idea, and consequently discarded by philosophers, who, in general, attribute it to an absence
of real sources of misery, which leaves a vacuum for
imaginary ones to creep in and make a great bustle.
They say the best and only radical cure for this mental disorder is substantial care and actual trouble;
and, accordingly, agree in recommending matrimony
as a sovereign remedy; that being the great evil which
renders all others insignificant. But, instead of flying
to this desperate specific, I will try what occupation
of mind will do in the way of relief.
In truth, the solitary nook into which I am just
now thrown bears an aspect so interesting, that it is
calculated to call up the most touchingly-pleasing
emotions, in the minds of those who love to indulge,
in the contemplation of beautiful scenes. We are the
sons of earth, and the indissoluble kinship between
nature and man is demonstrated by our sense of her
charms.  I shall not soon forget last evening.  It
was such as can never be described: I will, therefore,
not attempt it; but it was still as the sleep of innocence, pure as ether, and bright as immortality. It
happened that I strolled out alone along the windings
of a little stream about twenty yards wide, that skirts
a narrow strip of green meadow, between the brook
and the high mountain close at hand.  You will confess my landscapes are well watered, for every one
has a river. But such is the case in this region, where
all the passes of the mountains are made by streams,
that, in process of time, have laboured through, and




A MOOD OF NATURE AND OF MAN.          415
left a space for a road on their banks. If nature will
do these things, I can't help it -not I. In the course
of the ramble the moon rose over the mountain to the
eastward, which, being just by, seemed to bring her
visage equally near; and the bright eyes of the stars
began to glisten, as if weeping the dews of evening.
I knew not the name of one single star. But what of
that?  It is not necessary to be an astronomer, to
contemplate with exalted emotions the glories of the
sky at night, and the countless wonders of the universe.
"These earthly godfathers of Heaven's lights,
That give a name to every fixed star,
Have no more profit of their living nights,
Than those that walk and wot not what they are."
Men may be too wise to wonder at anything; as
they may be too ignorant to see anything without
wondering.  There is reason also to believe that astronomers may be sometimes so taken up with measuring the distances and magnitude of the stars, as
to lose, in the intense minuteness of calculation, that
noble expansion of feeling and intellect combined,
which lifts from nature up to its great first cause. As
respects myself, I know no more of these orbs than
the man in the moon.  I only contemplate them as
unapproachable, inextinguishable fires, glittering afar
off, in those azure fields whose beauty and splendour
have pointed them out as the abode of the Divinity.
As such, they form bright links in the chain of thought
that leads directly to a contemplation of the Maker of
heaven and earth. Nature is, indeed, the only temple
worthy of the Deity.  There is a mute eloquence in
her smile; a majestic severity in her frown; a divine
spell in her harmony; a speechless energy in her




416      A MOOD OF NATURE AND OF MAN.
silence; a voice in her thunders, that no reflecting being can resist. It is in such scenes and seasons, that
the heart is most deeply smitten with the power and
goodness of Providence, and that the soul demonstrates
its capacity for maintaining an existence independent
of matter, by abstracting itself from the body, and expatiating alone in the boundless regions of the past
and the future. 
As I continued strolling forward, there gradually
came a perfect calm - and even the aspen-tree whispered no more. But it was not the death-like calm
of a winter's night, when the whistling wind grows
quiet, and the frosts begin in silence to forge fetters
for the running brooks and the gentle current of life
that flows through the veins of the forest. The voice
of man and beast was indeed unheard; but the river
murmured, and the insects chirped in the mild summer evening. There is something sepulchral in the
stillness of a winter night; but in the genial seasons
of the year, though the night is the emblem of repose,
it is the repose of the couch, not of the tomb. Nature
still breathes in the buzz of insects, the whisperings of
the forest, and the babbling of the brooks.  We know
she will awake in the morning, with her smiles, her
bloom, her zephyrs and warbling birds. "In such a
night as this," if a man loves any human being in
this wide world, he will find it out, for around that
being will his thoughts first centre. If he has in store
any sweet, or bitter, or bitter-sweet recollections, which
are deadened in the rush of business, they will come
without being called. If, in his boyish years, he
wrestled, and rambled, and wrangled with, yet loved,
some chubby boy, he will remember the days of his




A MOOD OF NATURE AND OF MAN.        417
childhood, its companions, cares, and pleasures. If,
in his prime of romance, he used to walk of evenings
with some blue-eyed, musing, melancholy maid, whom
the ever-rolling wave of life dashed away from him
for ever- he will recall her voice, her eye, and her
form. If any heavy and severe disaster has fallen on
his riper manhood, and turned the future into a
gloomy and unpromising wilderness; he will feel it
bitterly at such a time. Or if it chance that he is
grown an old man, who has lived to see all that owned
his blood, or shared his affections, struck down to the
earth like dead leaves in autumn; in such a night, he
will call their dear shades around, and wish himself a
shadow.