'* 
 
 MEN AND MANNERS 
 
 IN AMERICA. 
 
 AUTHOR OF CYRIL THORNTON, ETC. 
 
 . 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 CAREY, LEA & BLANCHAKD. 
 1833. 

 
 6RI06S & DICKIJfSOJT, PBIHTER.
 
 TO 
 
 WILLIAM WOLRYCHE WHITMORE, 
 
 ESQUIRE, M.P. 
 
 DEAR WHITMORE, 
 
 I inscribe these volumes to you. As a 
 politician, your course has ever heen straight- 
 forward and consistent; and I know no one who 
 brings to the discharge of his public duties a mind 
 less biassed by prejudice, or more philosophically 
 solicitous for the attainment of truth. Neither 
 mingling in the asperities of party conflict, nor 
 descending to those arts by which temporary po- 
 pularity is often purchased at the expense of per- 
 manent contempt, you have been wisely content 
 to rest your claims to the gratitude of your coun- 
 try, on a zealous, enlightened, and unobtrusive 
 devotion to her best interests. 
 
 Had I been conscious, in what I have written 
 of the United States, of being influenced by any 
 motive incompatible with perfect fairness of pur- 
 pose, you are perhaps the last person to whose 
 judgment I should venture an appeal. By no one 
 will the arguments I have advanced be more ri- 
 gidly examined, and the grist of truth more care- 
 fully winnowed from the chaff of sophistry and 
 declamation. For this reason, and in testimony 
 of sincere esteem, I now publicly connect your 
 name with the present work. You will, at least, 
 find in it the conclusions of an independent ob- 
 server; formed after much deliberation, and of- 
 fered to the world with that confidence in their 
 
 fc-017340
 
 IV DEDICATION. 
 
 justice which becomes a writer, who, through the 
 medium of the press, pretends to influence the 
 opinions of others. 
 
 It was not till more than a year after my return, 
 that I finally determined on publishing the result 
 of my observations in the United States. Of books 
 of travels in America, there seemed no deficien- 
 cy; and I was naturally unwilling to incur, by the 
 public expression of my opinions, the certainty of 
 giving offence to a people, of whose hospitality I 
 shall always entertain a grateful recollection. I 
 should, therefore, gladly have remained silent, 
 and devoted those hours which occasionally hang 
 heavy on the hands of an idle gentleman, to the 
 productions of lighter literature, which, if not 
 more attractive to the reader, would certainly 
 have been more agreeable to the taste and habits 
 of the writer. 
 
 But when I found the institutions and experi- 
 ence of the United States deliberately quoted in 
 the reformed Parliament, as affording safe prece- 
 dent for British legislation, and learned that the 
 drivellers who uttered such nonsense, instead of 
 encountering merited derision, were listened to 
 with patience and approbation, by men as igno- 
 rant as themselves, I certainly did feel that ano- 
 ther work on America was yet wanted, and at 
 once determined to undertake a task which infe- 
 rior considerations would probably have induced 
 me to decline. 
 
 How far, in writing of the institutions of a fo- 
 reign country, I may have been influenced by the 
 prejudices natural to an Englishman, I presume 
 not to determine. To the impartiality of a cos- 
 mopolite I make no pretension. No man can 
 wholly cast off the trammels of habit and educa-
 
 DEDICATION. V 
 
 tion, nor escape from the bias of that multitude 
 of minute and latent predilections, which insen- 
 sibly affect the judgment of the wisest. 
 
 But, apart from such necessary and acknow- 
 ledged influences, I am aware of no prejudice 
 which could lead me to form a perverted estimate 
 of the condition, moral or social, of the Ameri- 
 cans. I visited their country with no antipathies 
 to be overcome; and I doubt not you can bear 
 testimony that my political sentiments were not 
 such, as to make it probable that I would regard 
 with an unfavourable eye the popular character 
 of their government. In the United States I was 
 received with kindness, and enjoyed an inter- 
 course at once gratifying and instructive, with 
 many individuals for whom I can never cease to 
 cherish the warmest sentiments of esteem. I nei- 
 ther left England a visionary and discontented 
 enthusiast, nor did I return to it a man of blight- 
 ed prospects and disappointed hopes. In the 
 business or ambitions of the world I had long 
 ceased to have any share. , I was bound to no 
 party, and pledged to no opinions. I had visited 
 many countries, and may therefore be permitted 
 to claim the possession of such advantages as fo- 
 reign travel can bestow. 
 
 Under these circumstances, I leave it to the 
 ingenuity of others to discover by what probable 
 what possible temptation, I could be induced 
 to write in a spirit of unjust depreciation of the 
 manners, morals, or institutions of a people so 
 intimately connected with England, by the ties of 
 interest, and the affinities of common ancestry. 
 
 It has been said, by some one, that the narra- 
 tive of a traveller is necessarily a book of inaccu- 
 racies. I admit the truth of the apophthegm, and
 
 VI DEDICATION. 
 
 only claim the most favourable construction for 
 his mistakes. The range of a traveller's obser- 
 vations must generally be limited to those peculi- 
 arities which float, as it were, on the surface of 
 society. Of the " sunken treasuries" beneath, 
 he cannot speak. His sources of information are 
 always fallible, and, at best, he can appeal only 
 to the results of an imperfect experience. A great 
 deal which necessarily enters into his narrative, 
 must be derived from the testimony of others. 
 In the common intercourse of society, men do not 
 select their words with that scrupulous precision 
 which they use in a witness-box. Details are loose- 
 ly given, and inaccurately remembered. Events 
 are coloured or distorted by the partialities of the 
 narrator; minute circumstances are omitted or 
 brought into undue prominence, and the vast and 
 varied machinery by which fact is manufactured 
 into fallacy is continually at work. 
 
 From the errors which, I fear, must still con- 
 stitute the badge of all our tribe, I pretend to no 
 exemption. But, whatever be the amount of its 
 imperfections, the present work is offered to the 
 world without excuse of any sort; for I confess my 
 observations have led to the conclusion, that a 
 book requiring apology is rarely worth it. 
 Ever, dear WHITMORE, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 T. H. 
 
 RVDAL, 8th July, 1833.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 CHAP. I. Voyage New York, 9 
 
 II. New York, 20 
 
 III. New York Hudson River, .... 38 
 
 IV. New York, ..-..-. 52 
 
 V. New York, 61 
 
 VL Voyage Providence Boston, ... 77 
 
 VII. Boston, 107 
 
 VIII. New England, 129 
 
 IX. New York, 148 
 
 X. Philadelphia, . . . .' . . . 178 
 
 XI. Philadelphia, 200 
 
 XII. Journey Baltimore Washington, . . 209 
 
 XIII. American Constitution, 232 
 
 XIV. Washington, 243 
 
 XV. Washington, 272 
 
 XVI. Journey to New Orleans, .... 287 
 
 XVII. New Orleans, 309 
 
 XVIIL Journey to Charleston, 326 
 
 XIX. Journey to Niagara The Falls, ... 351 
 
 XX. Journey to Quebec, 375 
 
 XXI. Journey to New York, 391
 
 MEN AND MANNERS 
 
 IN AMERICA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 VOYAGE NEW YORK. 
 
 ON the morning of the 16th of October, I embarked 
 at Liverpool, on board of the American packet ship, 
 New York, Captain Bennet, bound for the port of the 
 same name. There were twenty-six passengers on 
 board, and though the accommodations were excellent, 
 the cabin, as might be expected, was somewhat disa- 
 greeably crowded. Our party consisted of about fifteen 
 or sixteen Americans, some half-dozen countrymen of 
 my own, two or three English, a Swiss, and a French- 
 man. 
 
 Though the elements of this assemblage were hete- 
 rogeneous enough, I have great pleasure in remember- 
 ing that the most perfect harmony prevailed on board. 
 To myself, the whole of my fellow- passengers were 
 most obliging; and for some I contracted a regard which 
 led me to regret that the period of our arrival in port, 
 was likely to bring with it a lasting cessation of our 
 intercourse. 
 
 The miseries of a landsman on board of a ship, have 
 afforded frequent matter for a pen and pencil. At best, 
 a sea voyage is a confinement at once irksome and 
 odious, in which the unfortunate prisoner is compelled 
 for weeks, or months, to breathe the tainted atmosphere 
 of a close and crowded cabin, and to sleep at night in 
 a sort of box, about the size of a coffin, for " the stout 
 gentleman." At worst, it involves a complication of the 
 most nauseous evils that can afflict humanity, an utter 
 prostration of power, both bodily and mental, a revul- 
 
 2
 
 10 ACCOMMODATIONS ONBOARD. 
 
 sion of the whole corporeal machinery, accompanied 
 by a host of detestable diagnostics, which at once con- 
 vert a well-dressed and well-favoured gentleman, into 
 an object of contempt to himself, and disgust to those 
 around him. 
 
 Such are a few of the joys that await a landsman r 
 whom evil stars have led to "go down to the sea in 
 ships, and occupy his business in the great waters." 
 With regard to sailors, the case is different, but not 
 much. Being seasoned vessels, they are, no doubt, 
 exempt from some of those evils, and completely har- 
 dened to others, which are most revolting to a lands- 
 man. But their Pandora's box can afford to lose a 
 few miseries, and still retain a sufficient stock of all 
 sizes, for any reasonable supply. It may be doubted, 
 too, whether the most ardent sailor was ever so hallu- 
 cinated by professional enthusiasm, as to pitch his Pa- 
 radise wherever he might place his Purgatory afloat. 
 
 On board of the New York, however, I must say, 
 that our sufferings were exclusively those arising from 
 the elements of air and water. Her accommodations 
 were admirable. Nothing had been neglected which 
 could possibly contribute to the comfort of the passen- 
 gers. In another respect, too, we were fortunate. Our 
 commander had nothing about him, of "the rude and 
 boisterous captain of the sea." In truth, Captain Ben- 
 net was not only an adept in all professional accomplish- 
 ment, but, in other respects, a person of extensive infor- 
 mation; and I confess, it was even with some degree of 
 pride that I learned he had received his nautical edu- 
 cation in the British navy. Partaking of the strong 
 sense we all entertained of his unvarying solicitude for 
 the comfort of his passengers, I am happy also to pro- 
 fess myself indebted to him, for much valuable infor- 
 mation relative to the country I was about to visit. 
 
 Among the passengers were some whose eccentrici- 
 ties contributed materially to enliven the monotony of 
 the voyage. The most prominent of these was a retired 
 hair-dresser from Birmingham, innocent of all know- 
 ledge unconnected with the wig-block, who, having 
 recently married a young wife, was proceeding, accom- 
 panied by his fair rib, with the romantic intention of
 
 MASTER BURKE. 11 
 
 establishing themselves in " some pretty box," in the 
 back-woods of America. As for the lady, she was 
 good-looking; but, being somewhat gratuitously solici- 
 tous to barb the arrows of her charms, her chief occu- 
 pation, during the voyage, consisted in adorning her 
 countenance with such variety of wigs of different co- 
 lours, as unquestionably did excite the marvel, if not 
 the admiration of the passengers. The billing and 
 cooing of this interesting couple, however, though 
 sanctioned by the laws of Hymen, became at length so 
 public and obtrusive, as, in the opinion of the other la- 
 dies, to demand repression; and a request was conse- 
 quently made, that they would be so obliging for the 
 future, as to reserve their mutual demonstrations of at- 
 tachment for the privacy of their own cabin. 
 
 Among the passengers, too, was Master Burke, bet- 
 ter known by the title of the Irish Roscius, who was 
 about to cross the Atlantic with his father and a French 
 music master, to display his talents on a new field. 
 Though not much given to admire those youthful pro- 
 digies, who for a season or two are puffed into notice, 
 and then quietly lapse into very ordinary men, I think 
 there can be no question that young Burke is a very 
 wonderful boy. Barely eleven years old, he was al- 
 ready an accomplished and scientific musician, played 
 the violin with first-rate taste and execution; and in his 
 impersonations of character, displayed a versatility of 
 power, and a. perception of the deeper springs of human 
 action, almost incredible in one so young. But, inde- 
 pendently of all this, he became, by his amiable and 
 obliging disposition, a universal favourite on board; 
 and when the conclusion of our voyage brought with it 
 a general separation, 1 am certain the boy carried with 
 him the best wishes of us all, that he might escape in- 
 jury or contamination in that perilous profession, to 
 which his talents had been thus early devoted. 
 
 We sailed from Liverpool about one o'clock, and in 
 little more than hour, were clear of the Mersey. On 
 the morning following we were opposite the Tuskar 
 rocks, and a run of two days brought us fairly out into 
 the Atlantic. Then bidding farewell to the bold head- 
 lands of the Irish coast, with a flowing sheet we plunged
 
 12 ARRIVAL OFF SANDY HOOK. 
 
 forward into the vast wilderness of waters, which lay 
 foaming before us, and around. 
 
 For the first week, all the chances were in our fa- 
 vour. The wind, though generally light, was fair, and 
 the New York celebrated as a fast sailer with all 
 canvass set, ran down the distance gallantly. But, on 
 the seventh day, our good fortune was at an end. The 
 wind came on boisterous and adverse; and our pro- 
 gress, for the next fortnight, was comparatively small. 
 Many of the party became affected with sea-sickness, 
 and the hopes, to which our early good fortune had 
 given rise, of rapid passage, were as other dearer 
 hopes have been by us all, slowly, but unwillingly, 
 relinquished. 
 
 We were yet some five hundred miles to the east- 
 ward of the banks of Newfoundland, when, on the 23d 
 day, our spirits were again gladdened by a fair wind. 
 Then it was that the New York gave unquestionable 
 proof that, her high character was not unmerited. In 
 the six following days we ran down fifteen hundred 
 miles, and the evening of the twenty-eight day, found 
 us off Sandy Hook, which forms the entrance to the 
 Bay of New York. 
 
 Our misfortunes, however, were not yet at an end. 
 When within a few hours' sail of port, our. progress 
 was arrested for four days, by a dense fog. Four more 
 disagreeable days, I never passed. Sun, moon, stars, 
 earth, and ocean, lay hid in impenetrable vapour, and 
 it was only by the constant use of the lead, that the ship 
 could move in safety. The air we breathed seemed 
 changed into a heavier element: we felt like men sud- 
 denly smitten with blindness; and it almost seemed as 
 if the time of chaos had come again, when darkness lay 
 brooding on the face of the deep. The effect of this 
 weather on the spirits of us all was very remarkable. 
 Even the most jovial of the party became gloomy and 
 morose. Conversation languished, and the mutual be- 
 nevolence with which we had hitherto regarded each 
 other, had evidently sustained a diminution. 
 
 At length, when our patience, hourly sinking, had 
 nearly reached zero, a favourable change took place. 
 About noon on the 17th of November, the mist^sud-
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE SCENERY. ] 3 
 
 denly rolled upward like a curtain, and with joyful 
 eyes we beheld the coast of New Jersey outstretched 
 before us. Towards evening, we received a pilot, and 
 were visited by several boats employed by the propri- 
 etors of the New York newspapers, to procure the ear- 
 liest intelligence from vessels in the offing. The avidity 
 for news of all kinds, displayed both by these visiters 
 and the American passengers, was rather amusing. 
 
 Numerous questions were interchanged, relative to 
 politics and dry goods, shipping and shippers, freights 
 and failures, corn, cotton, constitutions, and commis- 
 sions. Though in this sort of traffic, as in all others, 
 there was value given on both sides, yet it struck me, 
 that a sincere desire to oblige was generally apparent. 
 Every one seemed happy to enter on the most prolix 
 details for the benefit of his neighbour; and the fre- 
 quent repetition of the same question appeared by no 
 means to be attended with the usual consequences on 
 the patience of the person addressed. I certainly could 
 detect nothing of that dogged, and almost sullen bre- 
 vity, with which, I take it,-the communications of En- 
 glishmen, in similar circumstances, would have been 
 marked. No one seemed to grudge the trouble neces- 
 sary to convey a complete comprehension of facts or 
 opinions to the mind of his neighbour, nor to circum- 
 scribe his communications within the limits necessary 
 to secure the gratification of his own curiosity. 
 
 We passed Sandy Hook in the night, and, on coming 
 ,on deck in the morning, were greeted with one of the 
 most beautiful prospects I had ever beheld. We were 
 then passing the Narrows; Long Island on one side, 
 Staten Island on the other, a finely undulating coun- 
 try, hills covered with wood, agreeably interspersed 
 with villas and cottages, and New York on its island, 
 with its vast forest of shipping, looming in the distance. 
 
 Such are some of the more prominent features of the 
 scene by which our eyes were first gladdened, on en- 
 tering the American waters. A more glorious morn- 
 ing never shone from the heavens. All around was 
 bathed in a flood of sunshine, which seemed brighter 
 when contrasted with the weather under which we 
 so recently suffered.
 
 14 LANDING AT NEW YORK. 
 
 I am not aware, that there is any thing very fine in 
 the appearance of New York, when seen from the bay, 
 but, taken in conjunction with the surrounding scene- 
 ry, it certainly forms a pleasing feature in the land- 
 scape. The city stands on the southern extremity of 
 York Island, and enlarging in latitude as it recedes 
 from the apex of a triangle, stretches along the shores 
 of the Hudson and East Rivers, far as the eye can 
 reach. On the right are the heights of Brooklyn, 
 which form part of Long Island; and across the broad 
 waters of the Hudson, the view is terminated on the 
 left by the wooded shore of New Jersey. 
 
 But whatever may be the pictorial defects or beau- 
 ties of New York, it is almost impossible to conceive a 
 city, better situated for commerce. At no season of 
 the year, can there be any obstruction in its communi- 
 cation with the ocean; and with a fine and navigable 
 river, stretching for nearly two hundred miles into the 
 interior of a fertile country, it possesses natural advan- 
 tages of no common order. In extent of trade and po- 
 pulation, I believe New York already exceeds every 
 other city of the Union; and unquestionably it is yet 
 very far from having gathered all its greatness. 
 
 The scene, as we approached the quay, became gra- 
 dually more animated. Numerous steam-vessels, and 
 boats of all descriptions, were traversing the harbour; and 
 the creaking of machinery, and the loud voices which 
 occasionally reached us from the shore, gave evidence 
 of activity and bustle. About twelve o'clock the ship 
 reached her mooring, and in half an hour I was safely 
 housed in Bunker's Hotel, where I had been strongly 
 recommended to take up my residence. A young Ame- 
 rican accompanied me to the house, and introduced me 
 to the landlord, who, after some miscellaneous conver- 
 sation, produced a book, in which I was directed to en- 
 rol my name, country, and vocation. This formality 
 being complied with, a black waiter was directed to 
 convey such of my baggage as I had been permitted to 
 bring ashore, to an apartment, and I found myself at 
 liberty to ramble forth, and gratify my curiosity by a 
 view of the town. 
 
 Jn visiting a foreign city, a traveller especially an
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF NEW YORK. 5 
 
 English one usually expects to find, in the aspect of 
 the place and its inhabitants, some tincture of the bar- 
 baric. There is something of this, though not a great 
 deal, at New York. The appearance of the population, 
 though not English, is undoubtedly nearer to it than 
 that of any city on the continent of Europe; and but 
 for the number of blacks and people of colour, one en- 
 counters in the streets, there is certainly little to remind 
 a traveller that the breadth of an ocean divides him 
 from Great Britain. The fashions of dress generally 
 adopted by the wealthier classes are those of Paris and 
 London; and the tastes and habits of the people, so far 
 as these appear on the surface, bear a strong resem- 
 blance to those of his countrymen. Minute differences, 
 however, are no doubt apparent at the first glance. 
 The aspect and bearing of the citizens of New York, 
 are certainly very distinguishable from any thing ever 
 seen in Great Britain. They are generally slender in 
 person, somewhat slouching in gait, and without that 
 openness of countenance and erectness of deportment to 
 which an English eye has been accustomed. Their ut- 
 terance, too, is marked by a peculiar modulation, par- 
 taking of a snivel and a drawl, which, I confess, to 
 my ear, is by no means laudable on the score of eu- 
 phony. 
 
 Observations of a similar character, are as applicable 
 to the city, as to its inhabitants. The frequent inter- 
 mixture of houses of brick and framework, was certain- 
 ly unlike any thing I had ever seen in Europe; and the 
 New Yorkers have inherited from their Dutch ancestors 
 the fashion of painting their houses of a bright colour, 
 which produces an agreeable effect, and gives to the 
 streets an air of gaiety and lightness which could not 
 otherwise have been attained. The prominent defect 
 of the city, is a want of consistency and compactness, 
 in the structure even of the better streets. There are 
 some excellent houses in them all, but these frequently 
 occur in alternation with mere hovels, and collections 
 of rubbish, which detract materially from the general 
 effect. But the general aspect of New York is unques- 
 tionably pleasing. It is full, even to overflow, of busi- 
 ness and bustle, and crowded with a population devoting
 
 16 THE CUSTOM-ftOUSE. 
 
 their whole energies, to the arts of money-getting. Such 
 were the first impressions I received in New York. 
 
 Having gratified my curiosity with a cursory view of 
 the chief streets, my obliging companion conducted me 
 to the Custom-house, in order to procure a permit for 
 landing my baggage. On arriving there, I was rather 
 surprised to find, that the routine observed, in such 
 matters in this republican country, is in fact more vexa- 
 tious, than in England. In New York, you are first re- 
 quired to swear that the specification given of the con- 
 tents of your boxes is true; and then, as if no reliance 
 were due to your oath, the officers proceed to a com- 
 plete search. To the search, however troublesome, un- 
 questionably no objection can be made; but it does ap- 
 pear to be little better than an insulting mockery, to 
 require an oath to which all credit is so evidently de- 
 nied. The proverb says, that " at lovers' vows Jove 
 laughs;" and if, in America, the deity is supposed to ex- 
 tend his merriment to Custom-house oaths, it surely 
 would be better to abolish a practice, which, to say no- 
 thing of the demoralizing influence it cannot fail to ex- 
 ert, is found to have no efficacy in the prevention of 
 fraud. Certainly in no country of Europe is it usual to 
 require an oath, in cases where it is not received as 
 sufficient evidence of the fact deposed to; and why the 
 practice should be different, under a government so 
 popular as that of <the United States, it would be diffi- 
 cult to determine. < 
 
 Custom-house regulations, however, are matters on 
 which most travellers are given to be censorious. In 
 truth, I know nothing so trying to the equanimity of 
 the mildest temper, as the unpleasant ceremony of 
 having one's baggage rummaged over by the rude fists of 
 a revenue-officer. It is in vain reason tells us, that this 
 impertinent poking into our portmanteaus is just and 
 proper; that the privilege is reciprocal between nations, 
 each of which necessarily enjoys the right, of excluding 
 altogether articles of foreign manufacture, or of attach- 
 ing such conditions to their importation, as it may see 
 fit. All this rs very true, but the sense of personal in- 
 dignity cannot be got over. There is nothing of na- 
 tional solemnity at all apparent in the operation. The
 
 SINGULARITY OF SIGNS. 17 
 
 investigator of our property is undistinguished by any 
 outward symbol of executive authority. It requires too 
 great an effort of imagination, to regard a dirty Custom- 
 house searcher, as a visible impersonation of the ma* 
 jesty of the law; and in spite of ten thousand unanswer- 
 able reasons to the contrary, we cannot help considering 
 his rigid examination of our cloak-bag and shaving- 
 case, rather as an act of individual audacity, than the 
 necessary and perfunctory discharge of professional 
 duty. In short, the searcher and searches stand to each 
 other in the relation of plus and minus, and the latter 
 has nothing for it, but to put his pride in his pocket, and 
 keep down his choler as best he can, with the complete 
 knowledge that being pro tern, in the hands of the Phi- 
 listines, the smallest display of either could only tend to 
 make things worse, [t is always my rule, therefore, when 
 possible, to avoid being present at the scene at all; and 
 having, on the present occasion, given directions to my 
 servant, to await the business of inspection, and after- 
 wards to convey the baggage to the hotel, I again com- 
 mitted myself to the guidance of some of my American 
 friends, and commenced another ramble through the 
 city. 
 
 As we passed, many of the signs exhibited by the dif- 
 ferent shops -struck me as singular. Of these, " DRY 
 GOOD STORE," words of which I confess I did not under- 
 stand the precise import, was certainly the most preva- 
 lent. My companions informed me that the term dry 
 goods is not, as might be supposed, generally applicable 
 to merchandise devoid of moisture, but solely to articles 
 composed of linen, silk, or woollen. " COFFIN WARE- 
 HOUSE," however, was sufficiently explanatory of the 
 nature of the commerce carried on within ; but had it 
 been otherwise, the sight of some scores of these dismal 
 commodities, arranged in sizes, and ready for immedi- 
 ate use, would have been comment enough. " FLOUR 
 AND FEED STORE," and " OYSTER REFECTORY,;' were 
 more grateful to the eye and the imagination. " HOL- 
 LOW WARE, SPIDERS, and FIRE DOGS," seemed to indi- 
 cate some novel and anomalous traffic, and carried with 
 it a certain dim and mystical sublimity, of which I shall 
 not venture to divest if, by any attempt at explanation. 
 
 3
 
 18 NIBLO'S TAVERN. 
 
 1 was amused, too, with some of the placards which 
 appeared on the walls. Many of these were political, 
 and one in particular was so unintelligible, as to impose 
 the task of a somewhat prolix commentary on my 
 friends. It ran thus, in sesquipedalian characters, 
 
 JACKSON FOR EVER. 
 GO THE WHOLE HOG! 
 
 When the sphere of my intelligence became enlarged 
 with regard to this affiche, I learned, that " going the 
 whole hog" is the American popular phrase for Radical 
 Reform, and is used by the Democratic party to distin- 
 guish them from the Federalists, who are supposed to 
 prefer less sweeping measures, and consequently to go 
 only a part of the interesting quadruped in question. The 
 Go-the-whole-hoggers, therefore, are politicians deter- 
 mined to follow out Democratic principles to their ut- 
 most extent, and with this party, General Jackson is at 
 present an especial favourite. The expression, I am 
 told, is of Virginian origin. In that State, when a 
 butcher kills a pig, it is usual to demand of each cus- 
 tomer, whether he will " go the whole hog;" as, by 
 such extensive traffic, a purchaser may supply his table 
 at a lower price, than is demanded of him, whose ima- 
 gination revels among prime pieces, to the exclusion of 
 baser matter. 
 
 Before quitting the ship, it had been arranged among 
 a considerable number of the passengers, that we should 
 dine together on the day of our arrival, as a proof of 
 parting in kindness and good-fellowship. Niblo's tavern, 
 the most celebrated eating-house in New York, was the 
 scene chosen for this amicable celebration. Though a 
 little tired with my walks of the morning, which the 
 long previous confinement on board of ship had ren- 
 dered more than usually fatiguing, I determined to ex- 
 plore my way on foot, and having procured the neces- 
 sary directions at the hotel, again set forth. On my 
 way, an incident occurred, which I merely mention to 
 show how easily travellers like myself, on their first ar- 
 rival in a country, may be led into a misconception of 
 the character of the people. Having proceeded some
 
 DINNER AT NIBLO'S. 19 
 
 distance, I found it necessary to inquire my way, and 
 accordingly entered a small grocer's shop. " Pray, sir," 
 I said, " can you point out to me the way to Niblo's 
 tavern?" The person thus addressed was rather a 
 grufflooking man, in a sqratch-wig, and for at least 
 half a minute kept eyeing me from top to toe without 
 uttering a syllable. " Yes, sir, 1 can," he at length re- 
 plied, with a stare as broad as if he had taken me for 
 the great Katterfelto. Considering this sort of treat- 
 ment, as the mere ebullition of republican insolence, I 
 was in the act of turning on my heel and quitting the 
 shop, when the man added, " and I shall have great 
 pleasure in showing it you." He then crossed the 
 counter, and accompanying me to the middle of the 
 street, pointed out the land-marks by which I was to 
 steer, and gave the most minute directions for my gui- 
 dance. I presume that his curiosity in the first instance 
 was excited by something foreign in my appearance; 
 and that, having once satisfied himself that I was a 
 stranger, he became on that account more than ordi- 
 narily anxious to oblige. This incident afforded me the 
 first practical insight into the manners of the people, 
 and was useful both as a precedent for future guidance, 
 and as explaining the source of many of the errors of for- 
 mer travellers. Had my impulse to quit the shop been 
 executed with greater rapidity, I should certainly have 
 considered this man as a brutal barbarian, and perhaps 
 have drawn an unfair inference with regard to the 
 manners and character, of the lower orders of society 
 in the United States. 
 
 The dinner at Niblo's, which may be considered the 
 London Tavern of New York, was certainly more ex- 
 cellent in point of material, than of cookery or arrange- 
 ment. It consisted of oyster soup, shad, venison,* par- 
 tridges, grouse, wild-ducks of different varieties, and 
 several other dishes less notable. There was no at- 
 tempt to serve this chaotic entertainment in courses, a 
 
 * In regard to game, I adopt the nomenclature in common use in 
 the United States. It may be as well to state, however, that neither 
 the partridges nor the grouse bear any very close resemblance to the 
 birds of the same name in Europe. Their flesh is dry, and compa- 
 ratively without flavour.
 
 20 BREAKFAST AT THE HOTEL. 
 
 fashion, indeed, but little prevalent in the United States. 
 Soup, fish, flesh, and fowl, simultaneously garnished the 
 table ; and the consequence was, that the greater part 
 of the dishes were cold, before the guests were prepared 
 to attack them. The venison was good, though cer- 
 tainly very inferior to that of the fallow-deer. The 
 wines were excellent, the company agreeable in all re- 
 spects, and altogether I do not remember to have passed 
 a more pleasant evening, than that of my first arrival 
 at New York. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 I HAD nearly completed my toilet on the morning 
 after my arrival, when the tinkling of a large bell gave 
 intimation, that the hour of breakfast was come. I 
 accordingly descended as speedily as possible to the salle 
 It manger, and found a considerable party engaged in 
 doing justice to a meal, which, at first glance, one would 
 scarcely have guessed to be a breakfast. Solid viands 
 of all descriptions loaded the table, while, in the occa- 
 sional intervals, were distributed dishes of rolls, toast, 
 and cakes of buckwheat and Indian corn. At the head 
 of the table, sat the landlady, who, with an air of com- 
 placent dignity, was busied in the distribution of tea 
 and coffee. A large bevy of negroes was bustling 
 about, ministering with all possible alacrity, to the 
 many wants which were somewhat vociferously ob- 
 truded on their attention. Towards the upper end of 
 the table, I observed about a dozen ladies, but by far 
 the larger portion of the company were of the other 
 sex. 
 
 The contrast of the whole scene, with that of an En- 
 glish breakfast-table, was striking enough. Here was 
 no loitering nor lounging ; no dipping into newspapers ; 
 no apparent lassitude of appetite ; no intervals of repose 
 .in mastication ; but all was hurry, bustle, clamour, an(J
 
 LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 voracity, and the business of repletion went forward, 
 with a rapidity altogether unexampled. The strenuous 
 efforts of the company were, of course, soon rewarded 
 with success. Departures, which had begun even be- 
 fore I took my place at the table, became every instant 
 more numerous, and in a few minutes the apartment 
 had become, what Moore beautifully describes in one 
 of his songs, " a banquet-hall deserted." The appear- 
 ance of the table, under such circumstances, was by no 
 means gracious, either to the eye or the fancy. It was 
 strewed thickly with the disjecta membra of the enter- 
 tainment. Here, lay fragments of fish, somewhat un- 
 pleasantly odoriferous; there, the skeleton of a chicken; 
 on the right, a mustard-pot upset, and the cloth, passim, 
 defiled with stains of eggs, coffee, gravy but I will not 
 go on with the picture. One nasty custom, however, I 
 must notice. Eggs, instead of being eat from the shell, 
 are poured into a wine-glass, and after being duly and 
 disgustingly churned up with butter and condiment, the 
 mixture, according to its degree of fluidity, is forthwith 
 either spooned into the mouth, or drunk off like a li- 
 quid. The advantage gained by this unpleasant pro- 
 cess, I do not profess to be qualified to appreciate, but 
 I can speak from experience, to its sedative effect on 
 the appetite of an unpractised beholder. 
 
 My next occupation was to look over my letters of 
 introduction. Of these I found above thirty addressed 
 to New York, and being by no means anxious to become 
 involved in so wide a vortex of acquaintance, I request- 
 ed one of-my American fellow- passengers to select such, 
 as, from his local knowledge, he imagined might prove 
 of more immediate service to a traveller like myself. 
 In consequence of this arrangement, about half the let- 
 ters with which the kindness of my friends had furnished 
 me, were discarded, and I can truly say, that the very 
 warm and obliging reception I experienced from those 
 to whom I forwarded introductions, left me no room to 
 regret the voluntary limitation of their number. 
 
 Having despatched my letters, and the morning being 
 wet, I remained at home, busied in throwing together a 
 few memoranda of such matters, as appeared worthy of 
 record, My labours, however, were soon interrupted.
 
 22 AMERICAN GENTLEMEN. 
 
 Several gentlemen who had heard of my arrival through 
 the medium of my fellow-passengers, but on whose ci- 
 vility I had no claim, did me the honour to call, tender- 
 ing a welcome to their city, and the still more obliging 
 offer of their services. My letters, too, did not fail of 
 procuring me a plentiful influx of visiters. Numerous 
 invitations followed, and by the extreme kindness of my 
 new friends, free admission was at once afforded me to 
 the best society in New York. 
 
 The first impression made by an acquaintance with 
 the better educated order of American gentlemen, is 
 certainly very pleasing. There is a sort of republican 
 plainness and simplicity in their address, quite in har- 
 mony with the institutions of their country. An Ame- 
 rican bows less than an Englishman; he deals less in 
 mere conventional forms and expressions of civility; he 
 pays few or no compliments; makes no unmeaning or 
 overstrained professions ; but he takes you by the hand 
 with a cordiality which at once intimates, that he is 
 disposed to regard you as a friend. Of that higher grace 
 of manner, inseparable perhaps from the artificial dis- 
 tinctions of European society, and of which even those 
 most conscious of its hollowness, cannot always resist the 
 attraction, few specimens are of course to be found, in 
 a country like the United States; but of this I am sure, 
 that such a reception as I have experienced in New 
 York, is far more gratifying to a stranger, than the farce 
 of ceremony, however gracefully it may be performed. 
 
 Perhaps I was the more flattered by the kindness of 
 my reception, from having formed anticipations of a less 
 pleasing character. The Americans I had met in Eu- 
 rope had generally been distinguished by a certain re- 
 serve, and something even approaching to the offensive 
 in manner, which had not contributed to create a pre- 
 possession in their favour. It seemed, as if each indi- 
 vidual were impressed with the conviction that the 
 whole dignity of his country was concentred in his per- 
 son ; and I imagined them too much given to disturb the 
 placid current of social intercourse, by the obtrusion of 
 national jealousies, and the cravings of a restless and in- 
 ordinate vanity. It is, indeed, highly probable, that 
 these unpleasant peculiarities were called into more
 
 AMERICANS IN EUROPE. 23 
 
 frequent display, by that air of haughty repulsion, in 
 which too many of my countrymen have the bad taste 
 to indulge; but even from what I have already seen, I 
 feel sure that an American at home, is a very different 
 person from an American abroad. With his foot on his 
 native soil, he appears in his true character; he moves 
 in the sphere, for which his habits and education have 
 peculiarly adapted him, and surrounded by his fellow- 
 citizens, he at once gets rid of the embarrassing convic- 
 tion, that he is regarded as an individual impersonation 
 of the whole honour of the Union. In England, he is 
 generally anxious to demonstrate by indifference of 
 manner, that he is not dazzled by the splendour which 
 surrounds him, and too solicitously forward in denying 
 the validity of all pretensions, which he fears the world 
 may consider as superior to his own. But in his own 
 country, he stands confessedly on a footing with the 
 highest; His national vanity remains unruffled by op- 
 position or vexatious comparison, and his life passes on 
 in a dreamy and complacent contemplation of the high 
 part, which, in her growing greatness, the United States 
 is soon to assume, in the mighty drama of the world. 
 His imagination is no longer troubled with visions of 
 lords and palaces, and footmen in embroidery and cocked 
 hats ; or, if he think of these things at all, it is in a spirit 
 far more philosophical, than that with which he once 
 regarded them. Connected with England by commer- 
 cial relations, by community of literature, and a thou- 
 sand ties, which it will still require centuries to oblite- 
 rate, he carmot regard her destinies without deep 
 interest. In the contests in which, by the calls of ho- 
 nour, or by the folly of her rulers, she may be engaged, 
 the reason of an American may be against England, but 
 his heart is always with her. He is ever ready to ex- 
 tend to her sons, the rites of kindness and hospitality, 
 and is more flattered by their praise, and more keenly 
 sensitive to their censure, than is perhaps quite consist- 
 ent with a just estimate, of the true value of either. 
 
 I remember no city which has less to show in the way 
 of Lions than New York. The whole interest attach- 
 ing to it, consists in the general appearance of the place; 
 in the extreme activity and bustle which is every where
 
 24 PUBLIC BUILDINGS OF NEW YORK. 
 
 apparent, and in the rapid advances which it has made, 
 and is still making, in opulence and population. In an 
 architectural view, New York has absolutely nothing 
 to arrest the attention. The only building of preten- 
 sion is the State-House, or City-Hall, in which the 
 courts of law hold their sittings. In form, it is an ob- 
 long parallelogram, two stories in height, exclusive of 
 the basement, with an Ionic portico V>f white marble, 
 which instead of a pediment, is unfortunately surmount- 
 ed by a balcony. Above is a kind of lantern or pepper- 
 box, which the taste of the architect has led him to 
 substitute for a dome. From the want of simplicity, 
 the effect of the whole is poor, and certainly not im- 
 proved by the vicinity of a very ugly jail, which might 
 be advantageously removed to some less obtrusive si- 
 tuation. 
 
 The Exchange is a petty affair, and unworthy of a 
 community so large and opulent as that of New York. 
 With regard to churches, those frequented by the 
 wealthier classes are built of stone, but the great majo- 
 rity are of timber. Their architecture in general is 
 anomalous enough; and the wooden spires, terminating 
 in gorgeous weathercocks, are as gay as the lavish em- 
 ployment of the painter's brush can make them. 
 
 But the chief attraction of New York is the Broad- 
 way, which runs through the whole extent of the city, 
 and forms as it were the central line from which the 
 other streets diverge to the quays on the Hudson and 
 East River. It is certainly a handsome street, and the 
 complete absence of regularity in the buildings, which 
 are of all sizes and materials, from the wooden cottage 
 of one story, to the massive brick edifice of five or six, 
 gives to Broadway a certain picturesque effect, incom- 
 patible, perhaps, with greater regularity of architec- 
 ture. The sides are skirted by a row of stunted and 
 miserable-looking poplars, useless either for shade or or- 
 nament, which breaks the unity of the street without 
 compensation of any sort. The shops in Broadway are 
 the depots of all the fashionable merchandise of the 
 city, but somewhat deficient in external attractions, to 
 eyes accustomed to the splendour of display in Regent 
 Street, or Oxford Road. About two o'clock, however,
 
 LADIES OF NEW YORK. 35 
 
 the scene in Broadway becomes one of pleasing bustle 
 and animation. The trottoirs are then crowded with 
 gaily dressed ladies, and that portion of the younger 
 population, whom the absence of more serious employ- 
 ment enables to appear in the character of beaux. The 
 latter, however, is small. From the general air and 
 appearance of the people, it is quite easy to gather, that 
 trade in some of its various branches, is the engrossing 
 object of every one, from the youth of fifteen to the ve- 
 teran of fourscore, who-, from force of habit, still lags 
 superfluous on the Exchange. There are no morning 
 loungers in New York; and the ladies generally walk 
 unattended ; but in the evening, I am told, it is differ- 
 ent, and the business of gallantry goes on quite as hope- 
 fully, as on our side of the water. 
 
 I have observed many countenances remarkable for 
 beauty, among the more youthful portion of the fair 
 promenaders. But, unfortunately, beauty in this cli- 
 mate is not durable. Like " the ghosts of Banquo's 
 fated line," it comes like a shadow, and so departs. At 
 one or two-and-twenty the bloom of an American lady 
 is gone, and the more substantial materials of beauty 
 follow soon after. At thirty the whole fabric is in de- 
 cay, and nothing remains but the tradition of former 
 conquests, and anticipations of the period, when her 
 reign of triumph will be vicariously restored in the per- 
 son of her daughter. 
 
 The fashions of Paris reach even to New York, and 
 the fame of Madame Maradan Carson has already tran- 
 scended the limits of the Old World, and is diffused over 
 the New. 1 pretend to be something of a judge in such 
 matters, and therefore pronounce ex cathedra, that the 
 ladies of New York are well dressed, and far from inele- 
 gant. The average of height is certainly lower than 
 among my fair countrywomen; the cheek is without 
 colour, and the figure sadly deficient in en-bon-point. 
 But with all these disadvantages, 1 do not remember to 
 have seen more beauty than I have met in New York. 
 The features are generally finely moulded, and not un- 
 frequcntly display a certain delightful harmony, which 
 reminds one of the /;'<'//<: Donne, of St. Peter's and the 
 Pincian Mount. The mouth alone is not beautiful ; it 
 
 4
 
 %Q LAW COURTS OF NEW YORK. 
 
 rarely possesses the charm of fine teeth, and the lips 
 want colour and fulness. The carriage of these fair 
 Americans is neither French nor English, for they have 
 the good sense to adopt the peculiarities of neither. 
 They certainly do not paddle along, with the short 
 steps and affected carriage of a Parisian belle, nor do 
 they consider it becoming, to walk the streets with the 
 stride of a grenadier. In short, though I may have occa- 
 sionally encountered more grace, than has met my ob- 
 servation since my arrival in the United States, as- 
 suredly 1 have never seen less of external deportment, 
 which the most rigid and fastidious critic could fairly 
 censure. 
 
 One of my earliest occupations was to visit the courts 
 6f law. In the first I entered, there were two judges 
 on the bench, and a jury in the box, engaged in the 
 trial of an action of assault and battery, committed 
 by one female on another. It is scarcely possible to 
 conceive the administration of justice invested with 
 fewer forms. Judges and barristers were both wig- 
 less and govvnless, and dressed in garments of such 
 colour and fashion, as the taste of the individual might 
 dictate. There was no mace, nor external symbol of 
 authority of any sort, except the staves which I observed 
 in the hands of a few constables, or officers of the court. 
 In the trial there was no more interest than what the 
 quarrel of two old women, in any country, may be sup- 
 posed to excite. The witnesses, I thought, gave their 
 evidence with a greater appearance of phlegm and in- 
 difference than is usual in our courts at home. No one 
 seemed to think, that any peculiar decorum of deport- 
 ment was demanded by the solemnity of the court. The 
 first witness examined, held the Bible in one hand, 
 while he kept the other in his breeches pocket, and, in 
 giving his evidence, stood lounging with his arm thrown 
 over the bench. The judges were men about fifty, with 
 nothing remarkable in the mode of discharging their 
 duty. The counsel were younger, and, so far as 1 could 
 judge, by no means deficient either in zeal for the cause 
 of their clients, or ingenuity in maintaining it. The 
 only unpleasant part of the spectacle, for I do not 
 suppose that justice could be administered in any coun-
 
 OBSERVATIONS. 37 
 
 try with greater substantial purity, was the incessant 
 salivation going forward in all parts of the court. Judges, 
 counsel, jury, witnesses, officers, and audience, all con- 
 tributed to augment the mass of abomination ; and the 
 floor around the table of the lawyers presented an ap- 
 pearance, on which even now I find it not very plea- 
 sant for the imagination to linger. 
 
 Having satisfied my curiosity in this court, I entered 
 another, which I was informed was the Supreme Court 
 of the State. The proceedings here were, if possible, 
 less interesting than those I had already witnessed. 
 The court were engaged in hearing arguments con- 
 nected with a bill of exchange, anjd, whether in Ame- 
 rica or England, a speech on such a subject must be a 
 dull affair; I was therefore on the point of departing, 
 when a jury, which had previously retired to deliberate, 
 came into court, and proceeded in the usual form to de- 
 liver their verdict. It was not without astonishment, I 
 confess, that I remarked that three-fourths of the jury- 
 men were engaged in eating bread and cheese, and 
 that the foreman actually announced the verdict with 
 his mouth full* ejecting the disjointed syllables during 
 the intervals of mastication ! In truth, an American 
 seems to look on a judge, exactly as he does on a car- 
 penter or coppersmith, and it never occurs to him, that 
 an administrator of justice is entitled to greater respect 
 than a constructor of brass knockers, or the sheather of 
 a ship's bottom. The judge and the brazier are paid 
 equally for their work; and Jonathan firmly believes, 
 that while he has money in his pocket, there is no rifik 
 of his suffering from the want either of law or warming 
 pans. 
 
 I cannot think, however, that, with respect to these 
 matters, legislation in this country has proceeded on 
 very sound or enlightened principles. A very clever 
 lawyer asked me last night, whether the sight of their 
 courts had not cured me of my John Bullish predilection 
 for robes, wigs, and maces, and all the other trumpery 
 and irrational devices, for imposing on weak minds. I 
 answered, it had not; nay, so far was the case other- 
 wise, that had I before been disposed to question the 
 utility of those forms to which he objected, what I had
 
 28 OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 witnessed since my arrival in New York, would have 
 removed all doubts on the subject. A good deal of 
 discussion followed, and though each of us persisted in 
 maintaining our own opinion, it is only justice to state, 
 that the argument was conducted by my opponent with 
 the utmost liberality and fairness. I refrain from giving 
 the details of this conversation, because a " proto- 
 col,' signed only by one of the parties, is evidently a do- 
 cument of no weight, and where a casuist enjoys the 
 privilege of adducing the arguments on both sides, it 
 would imply an almost superhuman degree of self-de- 
 nial, were he not to urge the best on his own, and range 
 himself on the side o/ the gods, leaving that of Cato to 
 his opponent. 
 
 ft is a custom in this country to ask, and generally 
 with an air of some triumph, whether an Englishman 
 supposes there is wisdom in a wig; and whether a few 
 pounds of horsehair set on a judge's skull, and plastered 
 with pomatum and powder, can be imagined to bring 
 with it any increase of knowledge to the mind of the 
 person whose cranium is thus disagreeably enveloped? 
 The answer is, No; we by no means hold, either that a 
 head au naturel, or that garments of fustian or cordu- 
 roy, are at all unfavourable to legal discrimination; and 
 are even ready to admit, that in certain genial regions, 
 a judge in cuerpo, and seated on a wooden stool, might 
 be as valuable and efficient an administrator of law, as 
 one vvigged to the middle, and clad in scarlet and er- 
 mine. But whatever American is so deficient in dia- 
 lectic, as to imagine that this admission involves^ sur- 
 render of the question in debate, we would beg leave 
 respectfully to remind him, that the schoolmaster is 
 abroad, and recommend him to improve his logic with 
 the least possible delay. If man were a being of pure 
 reason, forms would be unnecessary. But he who should 
 legislate on such an assumption, would afford ample 
 evidence of his own unh'tness for the task. Man is a 
 creature of senses and imagination, and even in reli- 
 gion, the whole experience of the world has borne tes- 
 timony to the necessity of some external rite, or solemni- 
 ty of observance, to stimulate his devotion, and enable 
 him to concentrate his faculties, for the worship of that
 
 DINNER AT THE HOTEL. 29 
 
 awful and incomprehensible Being, "whose kingdom is, 
 where time and space are not." It is difficult to see 
 on what principle, those who approve the stole of the 
 priest, and cover their generals and admirals wilh gold 
 lace, can condemn as irrational, all external symbols of 
 dignity, on the part of the judge. Let the Americans 
 at all events be consistent: While they address their 
 judges by a title of honour, let them at least be protect- 
 ed from rudeness, and vulgar familiarity; and they 
 may, perhaps, be profitably reminded, that the respect 
 exacted in a British court of justice, is homage not to 
 the individual seated on the bench, but to the law, in 
 the person of its minister. Law is the only bond by 
 which society is held together; its administration, there- 
 fore, should ever be marked out to the imagination, as 
 well as to the reason of the great body of a nation, as 
 an act of peculiar and paramount solemnity; and when 
 an Englishman sees the decencies of life habitully vio- 
 lated in the very seat of justice, he naturally feels the 
 less disposed to dispense with those venerable forms 
 with which, in his own country, it has been wisely en- 
 circled. Our answer therefore is, that it is precisely to 
 avoid such a stale of things as now exists in the American 
 courts, that the solemnities which invest the discharge 
 of the judicial office in England, were originally imposed, 
 and are still maintained. We regard ceremonies of all 
 sorts, not as things important in themselves, but simply 
 as means conducing to an end. It matters not by what 
 particular process; by what routine of observance; by 
 what visible attributes the dignity of justice is asserted, 
 and its sanctity impressed on the memory and imagina- 
 tion. But at least let this end, by some means or other, 
 be secured: arid if this be done, we imagine there is 
 little chance of our adopting many of the forensic ha- 
 bits of our friends on this side of the Atlantic. 
 
 At New York, the common dinner hour is three 
 o'clock, and I accordingly hurried back to the hotei 
 Having made such changes and ablutions as the heat 
 of the court rooms had rendered necessary, I descended 
 to the bar, an apartment furnished with a counter, 
 across which supplies of spirits and cigars are furnished 
 .to all who desiderate such luxuries. The bar, in short,
 
 30 DINNER AT THE HOTEL." 
 
 is the lounging place of the establishment; and here, 
 ' when the hour of dinner is at hand, the whole inmates 
 of the hotel may be found collected. On the present 
 occasion, the room was so full, that I really found it 
 difficult to get farther than the door. At length a bell 
 sounded, and no sooner did its first vibration reach the 
 ears of the party, than a sudden rush took place to- 
 wards the dining-room, in which being carried for- 
 ward by the crowd 1 soon found myself. The ex- 
 treme precipitation of this movement appeared some- 
 what uncalled for, as there was evidently no difficulty 
 in procuring places; and on looking round the apart- 
 ment, I perceived the whole party comfortably seated. 
 
 To a gentleman with a keen appetite, the coup d'oeil 
 of the dinner-table was far from unpleasing. The num- 
 ber of disties was very great. The sty leof cookery neither 
 French nor English, though certainly approaching nearer 
 to the latter than to the former. The dressed dishes 
 were decidedly bad, the sauces being composed of little 
 else than liquid grease, which, to a person like myself, 
 who have an inherent detestation of every modification 
 of oleaginous matter, was an objection altogether insupe- 
 rable. On the whole, however, it would be unjust to com- 
 plain. If, as the old adage hath it, " in the multitude 
 of counsellors there is wisdom," so may it be averred, 
 as equally consistent with human experience, that in 
 the multitude of dishes there is good eating. After seve- 
 ral unsuccessful experiments I did discover unobjection- 
 able viands, and made as good a dinner, as the am- 
 bition of an old campaigner could desire. 
 
 Around I beheld the same scene of gulping and swal- 
 lowing, as if for a wager, which my observations at 
 breakfast had prepared me to expect. In my own 
 neighbourhood there was no conversation. Each in- 
 dividual seemed to pitchfork his food down his gullet, 
 without the smallest attention to the wants of his neigh- 
 bour. If you asked a gentleman to help you from any 
 dish before him, he certainly complied, but in a man- 
 ner that showed you had imposed on him a disagreea- 
 ble office; and, instead of a slice, your plate generally 
 returned loaded with a solid massive wedge of animal 
 inatter. The New York carvers had evidently never
 
 AMERICAN MODE OF EATING. 31 
 
 graduated at Vauxhall. Brandy bottles were ranged 
 at intervals along the table, from which each guest 
 helped himself as he thought proper. As the dinner 
 advanced, the party rapidly diminished: before the 
 second course, a considerable portion had taken their 
 departure, and comparatively few waited the appear- 
 ance of the dessert. Though brandy was the prevail- 
 ing beverage, there were many also who drank wine, 
 and a small knot of three or four (whom I took to be 
 countrymen of my own) were still continuing the ca- 
 rousal when I left the apartment. 
 
 An American is evidently by no means a convivial 
 being. He seems to consider eating and drinking as 
 necessary tasks, which he is anxious to discharge as 
 speedily as possible. I was at first disposed to attribute 
 this singularity to the claims of business, which, in a 
 mercantile community, might be found inconsistent 
 with more prolonged enjoyment of the table. But 
 this theory was soon relinquished, for I could not but 
 observe, that many of the most expeditious bolters of 
 dinner spent several hours afterwards, in smoking and 
 lounging at the bar. 
 
 At six o'clock the bell rings for tea, when the party 
 musters again, though generally in diminished force. 
 This meal is likewise provided with its due proportion 
 of solids. The most remarkable was raw hung beef, 
 cut into thin slices, of which, horresco referens, I 
 observed that even ladies did not hesitate to partake. 
 The tea and coffee were both execrable. A supper, of 
 cold meat, &c., follows at ten o'clock, and remains on 
 the table till twelve, when eating terminates for the day. 
 Such is the unvarying routine of a New York hotel. 
 
 On the first Sunday after my arrival, I attended di- 
 vine service in Grace Church, which is decidedly the 
 most fashionable place of worship in New York. The 
 congregation, though very numerous, was composed 
 almost exclusively of the wealthier class; and the gay 
 dresses of the ladies, whose taste generally leads to a 
 preference of the brightest colours, produced an ef- 
 fect not unlike that of a bed of tulips. Nearly in front 
 of the reading-desk, a comfortable chair and hassock 
 had been provided for a poor old woman, apparently
 
 32 EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF AMERICA. 
 
 about fourscore. There was something very pleasing 
 in this considerate and benevolent attention to the in- 
 firmities of a helpless and withered creature, who pro- 
 bably had outlived her friends, and was soon about to 
 rejoin them in the grave. 
 
 The Episcopal church of America differs little in 
 formula from that of England. The liturgy is the 
 same, though here and there an expression has been al- 
 tered, not always, I think, for the better. In the first 
 clause of the Lord's Prayer, for instance, the word 
 "which" has been changed into "who," on the score 
 of its being more consonant to grammatical propriety. 
 This is poor criticism, for, it will scarcely be denied, 
 that the use of the neuter pronoun carried with it a 
 certain vagueness and sublimity, not inappropriate in 
 reminding us, that our worship is addressed to a Being 
 incomprehensible, infinite, and superior to all the dis- 
 tinctions applicable to material objects. In truth, the 
 grammatical anomaly so obnoxious to the American 
 critics, is not a blemish, but a felicity. A few judi- 
 cious retrenchments have also been made in the ser- 
 vice; and many of those repetitions which tend sadly 
 to dilute the devotional feeling, by overstraining the 
 attention, have been removed. 
 
 Trinity Church, in Broadway, is remarkable as being 
 the most richly endowed establishment in the Union, 
 and peculiarly interesting from containing in its ceme- 
 tery the remains of the celebrated General Hamilton. I 
 have always regarded the melancholy fate of this great 
 statesman with interest. Hamilton was an American, 
 not by birth, but by adoption. He was born in the 
 West Indies, but claimed descent from a respectable 
 Scottish family. It may be truly said of him, that with 
 every temptation to waver in his political course, the 
 path he followed was a straight one. He was too ho- 
 nest, and too independent, to truckle to a mob, and too 
 proud to veil or modify opinions, which, he must have 
 known, were little calculated to secure popular favour. 
 Hamilton brought to the task of legislation a powerful 
 and perspicacious intellect; and a memory stored with 
 the results of the experience of past ages. He viewed 
 mankind not as a theorist, but as a practical philoso-
 
 CHARACTER OF GENERAL HAMILTON. 33 
 
 pher, and was never deceived by the false and flimsy 
 dogmas of human perfectibility, which dazzled the 
 weaker vision of such men as Jefferson and Madison. 
 In activity of mind, in soundness of judgment, and in 
 the power of comprehensive induction, he unquestion- 
 ably stood the first man of his age and country. While 
 the apprehensions of other statesmen were directed 
 against the anticipated encroachments of the executive 
 power, Hamilton saw clearly that the true danger me- 
 naced from another quarter. He was well aware that 
 democracy, not monarchy, was the rock on which the 
 future destinies of his country were in peril of ship- 
 wreck. He was, therefore, desirous that the new Fe- 
 deral Constitution should be framed, as much as possi- 
 ble, on the model of that of England, which, beyond all 
 previous experience, had been found to produce the re- 
 sult of secure and rational liberty. It is a false charge 
 on Hamilton, that he contemplated the introduction of 
 monarchy, or of the corruptions which had contributed 
 to impair the value of the British constitution; but he 
 certainly was anxious that a salutary and effective check 
 should be found in the less popular of the legislative 
 bodies, on the" occasional, rash and hasty impulses of 
 the other. He was favourable to a senate chosen for 
 life; to a federal government sufficiently strong to en- 
 force its decrees in spite of party opposition, and the 
 conflicting jealousies of the different states; to a repre- 
 sentation rather founded on property and intelligence 
 than on mere numbers; and, perhaps, of the two evils, 
 would have preferred the tyranny of a single dictator, 
 to the more degraded despotism of a mob. 
 
 Hamilton was snatched from his country, in the 
 prime of life and of intellect. Had he lived, it is diffi- 
 cult to foresee what influence his powerful mind might 
 have exercised on the immediate destinies of his counr 
 try. By his talents and unrivalled powers as an orator, 
 he might have gained fair audience, and some tempo- 
 rary favour, for his opinions. But this could not have 
 been lasting. His doctrines of government in their 
 very nature were necessarily unpopular. The Fede- 
 ralist party from the first occupied a false position. 
 They attempted to convince the multitude of their uiv- 
 
 5
 
 34 MONUMENT IN TRINITY CHURCH. 
 
 fitness for the exercise of political power. This of 
 course failed. The influence they obtained in the pe- 
 riod immediately succeeding the revolution, was solely 
 that of talent and character. Being personal, it died 
 with the men, and sometimes before them. It was 
 impossible for human efforts to diminish the democratic 
 impulse given by the revolution, or to be long success- 
 ful in retarding its increase. In the very first struggle, 
 the Federalists were defeated once and for ever, and 
 the tenure of power by the Republican party has ever 
 since, with one brief and partial exception, continued 
 unbroken. 
 
 There is another tomb which I would notice before 
 quitting the church-yard of Trinity. On a slab sur- 
 mounting an oblong pile of masonry, are engraved the 
 following words: 
 
 MY MOTHER. 
 
 THE TRUMPET SHALL SOUND, AND THE DEAD SHALL 
 ARISE. 
 
 This is the whole inscription; and as I read the 
 words I could not but feel it to be sublimely affect- 
 ing. The name of him who erected this simple monu- 
 ment of fili.il piety, or of her whose dust it covers, is 
 unpreserved by tradition. Why should that be told, 
 which the world cares not to know? It is enough, 
 that the nameless tenant of this humble grave fhall be 
 known, " when the trumpet shall sound and the dead 
 shall arise." Let us trust, that the mother and her 
 child will then be reunited, to part no more. 
 
 One of the earliest occupations of a traveller in a 
 strange city, is to visit the theatres. There are three 
 in New York, and I am assured, that both actors and 
 managers prosper in their vocation. Such a circum- 
 stance is not insignificant. It marks opulence and 
 comfort, and proves that the great body of the people, 
 after providing the necessaries of life, possess a surplus, 
 which they feel at liberty to lavish on its enjoyments. 
 I have already been several times to the Park Theatre, 
 which is decidedly the most fashionable. The house
 
 THEATRES AND ACTORS. 35 
 
 is very comfortable, and well adapted both for seeing 
 and hearing. On my first visit, the piece was Der 
 Freischutz, which was very wretchedly performed. 
 The farce was new to me, and, I imagine, of American 
 origin. The chief character is a pompous old baronet, 
 very proud of his family, and exceedingly tenacious of 
 respect. In his old age he has the folly to think of 
 marrying, and the still greater folly, to imagine the at- 
 tractions of his person and pedigree irresistible. As 
 may be anticipated, he is the laughing stock of the 
 piece. Insult and ridicule follow him in every scene; 
 he is kicked and cuffed to the hearty content of the au- 
 dience, who return home full of contempt for the 
 English aristocracy, and chuckling at the thought that 
 there are no baronets in America. 
 
 My curiosity was somewhat excited by the high re- 
 putation which an actor named Forrest has acquired in 
 this country. As a tragedian, in the estimate of all 
 American critics, he stands primus sine secundo. To 
 place him on a level with Kean, or Young, or Kemble, 
 or Macready, would here be considered as an unwar- 
 ranted derogation from his merits. He is a Thespian 
 without blemish and without rival. 
 
 I have since seen this rara avis, and I confess that 
 the praise so profusely lavished on him does appear to 
 me somewhat gratuitous. He is a coarse and vulgar 
 actor, without grace, without dignity, with little flexi- 
 bility of feature, and utterly common-place in his con- 
 ceptions of character. There is certainly some energy 
 about him, but this is sadly given to degenerate into 
 rant. The audience, however, were enraptured. 
 Every increase of voice in the actor was followed by 
 louder thunders from box, pit, and gallery, till it some- 
 times became matter of serious calculation, how much 
 longer one's tympanum could stand the crash. I give 
 my impression of this gentleman's merits as an actor 
 the more freely, because I know he is too firmly esta- 
 blished in the high opinion of his countrymen, to be 
 susceptible of injury from the criticism of a foreigner, 
 with all his prejudices, inherent and attributive. Per- 
 haps, indeed, he owes something of the admiration 
 which follows him on the stage, to the excellence of
 
 36 FIRES IN NEW YORK. 
 
 his character in private life. Forrest has realized a 
 large fortune; and I hear from all quarters, that in the 
 discharge of every moral and social duty, he is highly 
 exemplary. His literary talents, I am assured, are, 
 likewise, respectable. 
 
 My fellow-passenger, Master Burke, draws full 
 houses every night of his performance. Each time I 
 have seen him, my estimate of his powers has been 
 raised. In farce he does admirably; but what must be 
 said of the taste of an audience, who can even tolerate 
 the mimicry of a child, in such parts as Lear, Shylock. 
 Richard, and lago? 
 
 No one can be four-and-twenty hours in New York 
 without hearing the alarm of fire. Indeed, a confla- 
 gration here is so very ordinary an occurrence, that it 
 is attended by none of that general anxiety and excite- 
 ment which follow such a calamity in cities less accus- 
 tomed to combustion. The New York fireman are 
 celebrated for resolution and activity; and as the exer- 
 cise of these qualities is always pleasant to witness, I 
 have made it a point to attend all fires since my arrival. 
 The four first were quite insignificant, indeed, three of 
 the number were extinguished before my arrival, and 
 I barely got up in time to catch a glimpse of the ex- 
 piring embers of the fourth. But in regard to the fifth, 
 I was in better luck. Having reached the scene, more 
 than half expecting it would turn out as trumpery an 
 affair as its predecessors, I had at length the satisfaction 
 of beholding a very respectable volume of flame burst- 
 ing from the windows and roof of a brick tenement of 
 four stories, with as large an accompaniment of smoke, 
 bustle, clamour, and confusion as could reasonably be 
 desired. An engine came up almost immediately after 
 my arrival, and loud cries, and the rattle of approach- 
 ing wheels from either extremity of the jstreet, gave 
 notice that farther assistance was at hand. Some time 
 was lost in getting water, and I should think the muni- 
 cipal arrangements, in regard to this matter, might be 
 better managed. In a few minutes, however, the diffi- 
 culty was surmounted, and the two elements were 
 brought fairly into collision. 
 
 The firemen are composed of young citizens, who
 
 FIREMEN. 37 
 
 by volunteering this service, and a very severe one it 
 is, enjoy an exemption from military duty. Certainly 
 nothing could exceed their boldness and activity. Lad- 
 ders were soon planted; the walls were scaled; furni- 
 ture was carried from the house, and thrown from the 
 windows, without apparent concern for the effects its 
 descent might produce on the skulls of the spectators 
 in the street. Fresh engines were continually coming 
 up, and were brought into instant play. But as the 
 power of water waxed, so unfortunately did that of 
 the adverse element; and so far as the original building 
 was concerned, the odds soon became Pompey's pil- 
 lar to a stick of sealing-wax, on fire. 
 
 Day now closed, and the scene amid the darkness 
 became greatly increased in picturesque beauty. At 
 intervals human figures were seen striding through 
 flame, and then vanishing amid the smoke. In the 
 street, confusion became worse confounded. Had the 
 crowd been composed of stentors, the clamour could 
 not have been louder. The inhabitants of the adjoin- 
 ing houses, who, till now, seemed to have taken the 
 matter very coolly, at length became alarmed, when 
 the engines began to play on them, and ejected a tor- 
 rent of chairs, wardrobes, feather-beds, and other valua- 
 ble chattels from every available opening. The house 
 in which the fire broke out was now a mere shell ; the 
 roof gone, and all the wooden-work consumed. The 
 flames then burst forth in the roof of the house adjoining 
 on the right, but the concentrated play of many engines 
 soon subdued it. All danger was then at an end. The 
 inhabitants began to reclaim the furniture which they 
 had tumbled out into the street, and I have no doubt 
 went afterwards to bed as comfortably as if nothing had 
 happened. I saw several of the inmates of the house 
 that had been burned, and examined their countenances 
 with some curiosity. No external mark of excitement 
 was visible, and I gave them credit for a degree of non- 
 chalance, far greater than 1 should have conceived pos- 
 sible in the circumstances. 
 
 On the whole, I have no deduction to make from the 
 praises so frequently bestowed on the New York fire- 
 men. The chief defect that struck me, was the admis-
 
 38 FREQUENCY OF FIRES. 
 
 sion of the crowd to the scene of action. This caused, 
 and must always cause, confusion. In England, barriers 
 are thrown across the street at some distance, and rigo- 
 rously guarded by the police and constables. On sug- 
 gesting this improvement to an American friend, he 
 agreed it would be desirable, but assured me it was not 
 calculated for the meridian of the United States, where 
 exclusion of any kind is always adverse to the popular 
 feeling. On this matter, of course, I cannot judge, but 
 it seems to me clear, that if the exclusion of an idle 
 mob from the scene of a fire,. increases the chance of 
 saving property and life, the freedom thus pertinacious- 
 ly insisted on, is merely that of doing private injury and 
 public mischief. 
 
 With regard to the frequency of fires in New York, 
 I confess, that after listening to all possible explana- 
 tions, it does appear to me unaccountable. I am con- 
 vinced, that in this single city there are annually more 
 fires than occur in the whole Island of Great Britain. 
 The combustible materials of which the majority of the 
 houses are composed, is a circumstance far from suffi- 
 cient to account for so enormous a disparity. Can we 
 attribute it to crime? I think not; at least it would re- 
 quire much stronger evidence than has yet been dis- 
 covered to warrant the hypothesis. In the negligence 
 of servants, we have surer ground. These are general- 
 ly negroes, and rarely to be depended on in any way, 
 when exempt from rigid surveillance. But I am not 
 going to concoct a theory, and so leave the matter as I 
 find it. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NEW YORK HUDSON RIVER. 
 
 THE 25th of November, being the anniversary of the 
 evacuation of the city by the British army, is always a 
 grand gala-day at New York. To perpetuate the me- 
 mory of this glorious event, there is generally a parade
 
 FESTIVAL AT NEW YORK. 39 
 
 of the militia, some firing of cannon and small arms, a 
 procession of the different trades, and the day then ter- 
 minates as it ought, in profuse and patriotic jollification. 
 But on the present occasion it was determined, in addi- 
 tion to the ordinary cause of rejoicing, to get up a pa- 
 geant of unusual splendour, in honour of the late Revo- 
 lution in France. This resolution, I was informed, ori- 
 ginated exclusively in the operative class, or workies, as 
 they call themselves, in contradistinction to those who 
 live in better houses, eat better dinners, read novels 
 and poetry, and drink old Madeira instead of Yankee 
 rum. The latter and more enviable class, however, 
 having been taught caution by the results of the former 
 French Revolution, were generally disposed to consider 
 the present congratulatory celebration as somewhat pre- 
 mature, but finding it could not be prevented, prudently 
 gave in, and determined to take part in the pageant. 
 
 It was arranged, that should the weather prove un- 
 favourable on the 25th, the gala should be deferred till 
 the day following. Nor was this precaution unwise. 
 The morning of the appointed day was as unpropitious 
 as the prayers'of the most pious advocate of legitimacy 
 could have wished. The rain came down in torrents, 
 the streets were flooded ankle deep, and I could not 
 help feeling strong compassion for a party of militia, 
 with a band of music, who with doleful aspect, and 
 drenched to the skin, paraded past the hotel, to the 
 tune of Yankee Doodle. But the morning following 
 was of better promise : the rain had ceased, and though 
 cokl and cloudy, it was calm. 
 
 About ten o'clock, therefore, I betook myself to a 
 house in Broadway, to which I had been obligingly 
 invited to see the procession. During my progress, 
 every thing gave note of preparation. The shops were 
 closed, and men in military garb, and others decorated 
 with scarfs and ribands, were seen moving hastily along 
 to their appointed stations. On approaching the route 
 of the procession, the crowd became more dense, and 
 the steps in front of the houses were so completely 
 jammed up with human beings, that it was with diffi- 
 culty I reached the door of that to which I was in- 
 vited.
 
 40 DESCRIPTION OF THE PROCESSION. 
 
 Having at length, however, effected an entrance, I 
 enjoyed the honour of introduction to a large and very 
 pleasant party assembled with the same object, as my- 
 self, so that, though a considerable time elapsed before 
 the appearance of the pageant, I felt no inclination to 
 complain of the delay. At length, however, the sound 
 of distant music reached the ear; the thunder of drums, 
 the contralto of the fife, the loud clash of cymbals, and 
 first and farthest heard, the spirit-stirring notes of the 
 trumpet. 
 
 Iwuv ft aatuvsJiev tt.f*@i HTVTTO; cuatsra. Baxxtt. 
 
 On they came, a glorious cavalcade, making heaven 
 vocal with sound of triumph, and earth beautiful with 
 such colouring as nature never scattered from her pic- 
 tured urn. 
 
 And first appeared, gorgeously caparisoned, a gallant 
 steed bestrode by a cavalier, whose high and martial 
 bearing bespoke him the hero of a hundred fights. The 
 name of this chieftain 1 was not fortunate enough to 
 learn. Next passed a body of militia, who, if they 
 wished to appear as unlike soldiers as possible, were 
 assuredly most successful. Then came the trades. 
 Butchers on horseback, or drawn in a sort of rustic ar- 
 bour or shambles, tastefully festooned with sausages. Tai- 
 lors, with cockades and breast-knots of riband, pacing 
 to music, with banners representative of various gar- 
 ments, waving proudly in the wind. Blacksmiths, with 
 forge and bellows. Caravans of cobblers most seducing- 
 ly appareled, and working at their trade on a locomo- 
 tive platform, which displayed their persons to the best 
 advantage. And carpenters too, but the rest must be 
 left to the imagination of the reader; and if he throw 
 in a few bodies of militia, a few bands of music, and a 
 good many most outre and unmilitary looking officers, 
 appareled in uniforms apparently of the last century, 
 he will form a very tolerable idea of the spectacle. 
 
 I must not, however, omit to notice the fire engines, 
 which formed a very prominent part of the procession, 
 it fortunately happening that no houses were just at 
 that moment in conflagration. These engines were re-
 
 THE ORATION. 4| 
 
 markably clean and in high order, and being adorned 
 with a good deal of taste, attracted a large share of ad- 
 miration. Altogether, it really did seem as if this gor* 
 geous pageant were interminable, and, like a dinner 
 in which there is too large a succession of courses, it 
 was impossible to do equal justice to all its attractions, 
 In the latter case, the fervour with which we demon- 
 strate our admiration of one dish, forces us to disregard 
 the charms of another. If we are not unjust to veni- 
 son, we must subsequently slight partridge, and then 
 from a whole wilderness of sweets, our waning appetite 
 demands that we should select but one. And thus it 
 was, that I, fervent in my admiration of the butchers, 
 was, in due course, charmed with the carpenters, and 
 subsequently smitten with the singular splendour of the 
 saddlers But another and another still succeeded, till 
 the eye and tongue of the spectator became literally 
 bankrupt in applause. Est modus et dulci; in short, 
 there was too much of it, and one could not help feel- 
 ing, after three hours spent in gazing, how practicable 
 it was to become satiated with pomp, as well as with 
 other good things. 
 
 But tedious as the spectacle was, it did at length pass, 
 and I walked on to Washington Square, in which the 
 ceremonies of the day were to conclude with the deli- 
 very of a public oration. On arriving, I found that a 
 large stage, or hustings, had been erected in the square. 
 From the centre of this stage rose another smaller plat- 
 form, for the accommodation of the high functionaries 
 of the state and city. As even the advanced guard of 
 the procession had not yet given signal of its approach, 
 it was evident that some delay must occur, and I there- 
 fore accepted an invitation to one of the houses in the 
 square, where I found a very brilliant concourse of 
 naval and military officers, and other persons of distinc- 
 tion. Among these was the venerable Ex-President 
 Monroe. It was, of course, not without interest that I 
 gazed on an individual who had played so distinguished 
 a part during the most perilous epoch of American his- 
 tory. He was evidently bent down by the united in- 
 roads of age and infirmity; and it was with regret I 
 learned, that to those afflictions, which are the common 
 
 6
 
 42 EX-PRESIDENT MONROE. 
 
 lot of humanity, had been added those of poverty. The 
 expression of Mr. Monroe's countenance was mild, 
 though not, I thought, highly intellectual. His fore- 
 head was not prominent, yet capacious and well defined. 
 His eye was lustreless, and his whole frame emaciated 
 and feeble. It was gratifying to witness the respect' 
 paid to this aged statesman by all who approached 
 him; and I was delighted to hear the loud demonstra- 
 tions of reverence and honour, with which his appear- 
 ance in the street was hailed by the crowd. 
 
 Mr. Monroe being too feeble to walk even so short a 
 distance, was conveyed to the hustings in an open car- 
 riage. His equipage was followed by a cortege of func- 
 tionaries on foot ; and accompanying these gentlemen, 
 I was admitted without difficulty to the lower platform, 
 which contained accommodation for about a hundred. 
 Having arrived there, we had still to wait some time 
 for the commencement of the performance, during 
 which some vociferous manifestations of disapprobation 
 were made by the mob, who were prevented from ap- 
 proaching the hustings by an armed force of militia. 
 At length, however, a portly gentleman came forward, 
 and read aloud the address to the French inhabitants 
 of New York, which had been passed at-a public meet- 
 ing. In particular, I observed that his countenance 
 and gestures were directed towards a party of gentle- 
 men of that nation, who occupied a conspicuous station 
 on the stage beneath him. The document 'was too 
 wordy and prolix, and written in a style of ambitious 
 elaboration, which I could not help considering as some- 
 what puerile. 
 
 While all this was going forward on the hustings, the 
 crowd without were becoming every instant more vio- 
 lent and clamorous ; and a couple of boys were oppor- 
 tunely discovered beneath the higher scaffolding, en- 
 gaged, either from malice or fun, in knocking away its 
 supports, altogether unembarrassed by the considera- 
 tion, that had their efforts been successful, they must 
 themselves have been inevitably crushed in the fall of 
 the platform. 
 
 Notwithstanding these desagremens, the orator a 
 gentleman named Governor came forward with a long
 
 THE MOB KNOCK DOWN THE HUSTINGS. 43 
 
 written paper, which he commenced reading in a voice 
 scarcely audible on the hustings, and which certainly 
 could not be heard beyond its limits. The crowd, in 
 consequence, became still more obstreperous. Having, 
 no doubt, formed high anticipations of pleasure and in- 
 struction from the gifted inspiration of this gentleman's 
 eloquence, it was certainly provoking to discover, that 
 not one morsel of it were they destined to enjoy. The 
 orator was, in consequence, addressed in ejaculations by 
 no means complimentary, and such cries as " Raise 
 your voice, and be damned to you !" " Louder!" 
 " Speak out !'* " We don't hear a word !" were accom- 
 panied by curses, which I trust were not deep, in pro- 
 portion either to their loudness or their number. In vain 
 did Mr. Governor strain his throat, in compliance with 
 this unreasonable requisition, but Nature had not formed 
 him either a Hunt or an O'Connell, and the ill-humour 
 of the multitude was not diminished. 
 
 At length order seemed at an end. A number of the 
 mob broke through the barricade of soldiers, and, climb- 
 ing up the hustings, increased the party there in a most 
 unpleasant degree. But this was not all. The dissa- 
 tisfied crowd below, thought proper to knock away the 
 supports of the scaffolding, and just as Mr. Governor 
 was pronouncing a most emphatic period about the sla- 
 very of Ireland, down one side of it came with an 
 alarming crash. Fortunately, some gentlemen had the 
 good sense to exhort every one to remain unmoved ; and 
 from a prudent compliance with this precaution, I be- 
 lieve little injury was sustained by any of the party. For 
 myself, however, being already somewhat tired of the 
 scene, the panic had no sooner ceased, than I took my 
 departure. 
 
 Altogether I must say that the multitude out of ear- 
 shot had no great loss. The oration appeared a mere 
 trumpery tissue of florid claptrap, which somewhat 
 lowered my opinion with regard to the general standard 
 of taste and intelligence in the American people. On 
 the whole, the affair was a decided failure. What 
 others went to see I know not, but had I not anticipated 
 something better worth looking at, than a cavalcade of 
 artisans mounted on cart-horses, and dressed out in taw-
 
 44 THE AFFAIR A FAILURE. 
 
 dry finery, or the burlesque of military display by bo- 
 dies of undrilled militia, I should probably have staid at 
 home. I do not say this in allusion to any deficiency of 
 splendour in the pageant itself. A republic can pos- 
 sess but few materials for display, and in the present 
 case I should not have felt otherwise, had the procession 
 been graced by all the dazzling appendages of imperial 
 grandeur. In truth, I had calculated on a sight alto- 
 gether different. I expected to see a vast multitude, 
 animated by one pervading feeling of generous enthu- 
 siasm ; to hear the air rent by the triumphant shouts of 
 tens of thousands of freemen, hailing the bloodless dawn 
 of liberty, in a mighty member of the brotherhood of 
 nations. As it was, I witnessed nothing so sublime. 
 Throughout the day, there was not the smallest demon- 
 stration of enthusiasm on the part of the vast concourse 
 of spectators. There was no cheering, no excitement, 
 no general expression of feeling of any sort; and I be- 
 lieve the crowd thought just as much of France as of 
 Morocco, the Cham of Tartary, as of Louis Philippe, 
 King of the French. They looked and laughed indeed 
 at the novel sight of their fellow tradesmen and ap- 
 prentices, tricked out in ribands and white stockings, 
 and pacing, with painted banners, to the sound of music. 
 But the moral of the display, if I may so speak, was ut- 
 terly overlooked. The people seemed to gaze on the 
 scene before them with the same feeling as Peter Bell 
 did on a primrose ; and it was evident enough, if, with- 
 out irreverence, I may be permitted to parody the fine 
 words of the noblest of contemporary poets, that in 
 the unexcited imagination of each spectator, 
 
 A butcher on his steed so trim, 
 A mounted butcher was to him, 
 And he was nothing more. 
 
 Such was the source of my disappointment in regard 
 to this splendid festivity. How far it was reasonable, 
 others may decide. I can only say I felt it. 
 
 One of the most pleasant evenings I have passed 
 since my arrival, was at a club composed of gentlemen 
 of literary taste, which includes among its members, 
 several of the most eminent individuals of the Union. 
 The meetings are weekly, and take place at the house
 
 MR. GALLATIN. 45 
 
 of each member in succession. The party generally 
 assembles about eight o'clock ; an hour or two is spent 
 in conversation; supper follows; and after a moderate, 
 though social potation, the meeting breaks up. I had 
 here the honour of being introduced to Mr. Livingston, 
 lieutenant-governor of the State, Mr. Gallatin, Mr. Jay, 
 and several other gentlemen of high accomplishment. 
 
 Mr. Gallatin I regarded with peculiar interest. His 
 name was one with which I had been long familiar. 
 Born in Switzerland, he became a citizen of the United 
 States, soon after the Revolution, and found there a 
 field, in which it was not probable that talents like his 
 would remain long without high and profitable employ- 
 ment. I believe it was in the cabinet of Mr. Jefferson 
 that Mr. Gallatin commenced his career as a statesman. 
 Since then, much of his life has been passed either in 
 high offices at home, or as minister to some of the Eu- 
 ropean courts; and the circumstance of his foreign birth 
 rendering him ineligible to the office of president, this 
 veteran statesman and diplomatist, wisely judging that 
 there should be "some space between the cabinet and 
 grave," has retired from political life, and finds exer- 
 cise for his yet unbroken energies in the calmer pur- 
 suits of literature. 
 
 In his youth Mr. Gallatin must have been handsome. 
 His countenance is expressive of great sagacity. He is 
 evidently an acute thinker, and his conversation soon 
 discovered him to be a ruthless exposer of those tradU 
 tionary or geographical sophisms, in politics and re- 
 ligion, by which the mind of whole nations has been 
 frequently obscured, and from the influence of which 
 none, perhaps, are entirely exempt. Mr. Gallatin 
 speaks our language with a slight infusion of his na- 
 tive accent, but few have greater command of felicitous 
 expression, or write it with greater purity. 
 
 An evening passed in such company, could not be 
 other than delightful. There was no monopoly of con- 
 versation, but its current flowed on equably and agree- 
 ably. Subjects of literature and politics were discussed 
 with an entire absence of that bigotry and dogmatism, 
 which sometimes destroy the pleasure of interchange 
 ,of opinion, even between minds of high order. For
 
 46 VOYAGE UP THE HUDSON. 
 
 myself, I was glad to enjoy an opportunity of observing 
 the modes of thinking peculiar to intellects of the first 
 class, in this new and interesting country; and I looked 
 forward to nothing with more pleasure, than availing 
 myself of the obliging invitation to repeat my visits at 
 the future meetings of the Club. 
 
 Having already passed a fortnight in one unbroken 
 chain of engagements in this most hospitable city, I 
 determined to give variety to the tissue of my life, by 
 accepting the very kind and pressing invitation of Dr. 
 Hosack, to visit him at his country-seat on the banks 
 of the Hudson. The various works of this gentleman 
 have rendered his name well known in Europe, and 
 procured his admission to the most eminent Philoso- 
 phical Institutions in England, France, and Germany. 
 For many years, he enjoyed as a physician the first 
 practice in New York, and has recently retired from 
 the toilsome labours of his profession, with the reputa- 
 tion of great wealth, and the warm esteem of his fel- 
 low-citizens. 
 
 At eight o'clock in the morning, therefore, of a day 
 which promised to turn out more than usually raw 
 and disagreeable, I embarked in the steam-boat North 
 America, and proceeded up the river to Hyde Park, 
 about eighty miles distant. I had anticipated much en-, 
 joyment from the beautiful scenery on the Hudson, 
 but the elements were adverse. We had scarcely left 
 the quay, when the lowering clouds began to discharge 
 their contents in the form of snow; and the wind was 
 so piercingly cold, that I found it impossible, even with 
 all appliances of cloaks and great-coats, to remain long 
 on deck. Every now and then, however, I reascend- 
 ed from below to see as much as I could; and when 
 nearly half frozen, returned to enjoy the scarcely less 
 interesting prospect of the cabin stove. 
 
 Of course, it was impossible, under such circum- 
 stances, to form any just estimate of scenery; but still 
 the fine objects which appeared occasionally glimmer- 
 ing through the mist, were enough to convince me, 
 that, seen under more favourable auspices, my expec" 
 tations, highly as they had been excited, were not like- 
 ly to encounter disappointment. That portion of the
 
 THE SCENERY OF THE HUDSON. 47 
 
 scenery, in particular, distinguished by the name of 
 the Highlands, struck me, as combining the elements 
 of the grand and beautiful, in a very eminent de- 
 gree. I remember nothing on the Rhine at all equal 
 to it. The river at this place has found a passage 
 through two ranges of mountains, evidently separated 
 by some convulsion of nature, and which, in beauty and 
 variety of form, and grandeur of effect, can scarcely be 
 exceeded. 
 
 But the vessel in which this little voyage was per- 
 formed demands some notice, even amid scenery fine 
 as that along which it conducted us with astonishing 
 rapidity. Its dimensions seemed gigantic. Being in- 
 tended solely for river navigation, the keel is nearly 
 flat, and the upper portion of the vessel is made to pro- 
 ject beyond the hull to a very considerable distance on 
 either side. When standing at the stern, and looking 
 forward, the extent of accommodation appears enor- 
 mous, though certainly not more than is required for 
 the immense number of passengers who travel daily 
 between New York and Albany. Among other un- 
 usual accommodations on deck, I was rather surprised 
 at observing a barber's shop, in which, judging from 
 the state of the visages of my fellow-passengers, I 
 have no doubt that a very lucrative trade is carried on. 
 
 The accommodation below was scarcely less worthy 
 of note. It consisted of two cabins, which I guessed, 
 by pacing them, to be a hundred and fifty feet in length. 
 The sternmost of these spacious apartments is sumptu- 
 ously fitted up with abundance of mirrors, ottomans, 
 and other appurtenances of luxury. The other, almost 
 equally large, was very inferior in point of decoration. 
 It seemed intended for a sort of tippling-shop, and con- 
 tained a bar, where liquors of all kinds, from Cham- 
 pagne to small beer, were dispensed to such passengers 
 as have inclination to swallow, and money to pay for 
 them. The sides of both of these cabins were lined 
 with a triple row of sleeping-berths; and as the sofas 
 and benches were likewise convertible to a similar pur- 
 pose, I was assured, accommodation could be easily 
 furnished for about five hundred. 
 
 The scene at breakfast was a curiosity. I calculated
 
 48 BREAKFAST IN THE STEAM-BOAT. 
 
 the number of masticators at about three hundred, yet 
 there was no confusion, and certainly no scarcity of 
 provision. The waiters were very numerous, and 
 during the whole entertainment kept skipping about 
 with the most praiseworthy activity; some collecting 
 money, and others engaged in the translation of cutlets 
 and coffee. The proceedings of the party in re break- 
 fast, were no less brief and compendious afloat, than 
 I had observed them on shore. As for eating, there 
 was nothing like it discoverable on board the North 
 America. Each man seemed to devour, under the un- 
 controllable impulse of some sudden hurricane of ap- 
 petite, to which it would be difficult to find any paral- 
 lel beyond the limits of the Zoological Gardens. A 
 few minutes did the business. The clatter of knives 
 and voices, vociferous at first, speedily waxed faint 
 and fainter; plates, dishes, cups, and saucers disap- 
 peared as if by magic; and every thing connected with 
 the meal became so suddenly invisible, that, but for 
 internal evidence, which the hardiest skeptic could 
 scarcely have ventured to discredit, the breakfast in 
 the North America might have passed for one of those 
 gorgeous, but unreal visions, which, for a moment, 
 mock the eye of the dreamer, and then vanish into 
 thin air. 
 
 The steamer made several brief stoppages at villages 
 on the river, for the reception and discharge of goods 
 or passengers. From the large warehouses which these 
 generally contained, they were evidently places of 
 considerable deposite for the agricultural produce of 
 the neighbouring country. They were built exclusive- 
 ly of wood, painted of a white colour; and, certainly, 
 for their population, boasted an unusual number of ta- 
 verns, which gave notice of their hospitality, on sign- 
 boards of gigantic dimensions. The business to be 
 transacted at these places occasioned but little loss of 
 time. Every arrangement had evidently been made 
 to facilitate despatch; and, by two o'clock, I found my- 
 self fairly ashore at Hyde Park; and glad to seek shel- 
 ter in the landing-house from the deluge of snow, which 
 had already whitened the whole surface of the country. 
 
 I had just begun to question the landlord about the
 
 VISIT TO DR. HOSACK. 49 
 
 possibility of procuring a conveyance to the place of 
 my destination, when Dr. Hosack himself appeared, 
 having obligingly brought his carriage for my convey- 
 ance. Though the drive from the landing-place led 
 through a prettily variegated country, I was not much 
 in the humour to admire scenery, and looked, I fear, 
 with more indifference on the improvements past and 
 projected, to which the Doctor directed my attention, 
 than would have been consistent with politeness in a 
 warmer and more comfortable auditor. The distance, 
 however, was little more than a mile; and, on reach- 
 ing the house, the disagreeables of the journey were 
 speedily forgotten in the society of its amiable inmates, 
 and the enjoyment of every convenience which wealth 
 and hospitality could supply. Dr. Hosack had re- 
 ceived his professional education in Scotland, and 
 passed a considerable portion of his early life there. I 
 was fortunately enabled to afford him some information 
 relative to the companions of his early studies, many 
 of whom have since risen to eminence; while others, 
 perhaps not less meritorious, have lived and died un- 
 distinguished. 'In return, the Doctor was good enough 
 to favour me, by communicating much valuable know- 
 ledge on the state of science and the arts in the United 
 States, which I must have found great difficulty in ob- 
 taining from other sources. 
 
 There is this advantage in the pursuit of science, 
 that it tends to generate liberality of sentiment, and 
 destroy those prejudices which divide nations far more 
 effectually than any barrier of nature. Science is of 
 no country, and its followers, wherever boi'n, consti- 
 tute a wide and diffusive community, and are linked 
 together by ties of brotherhood and interest, which 
 political hostility cannot sever. These observations 
 were particularly suggested by my intercourse with 
 Dr. Hosack. Though our conversation was excursive, 
 and embraced a vast variety of topics fairly debateable 
 between an American and an Englishman, 1 could 
 really detect nothing of national prejudice in his opi- 
 nions. He uniformly spoke of the great names of 
 Europe with admiration and respect, and his allusions 
 to the achievements of his countrymen in arts, arms, 
 
 7
 
 50 DEMESNE OF DR. HOSACK. 
 
 science, or philosophy betrayed nothing of that vanity 
 and exaggeration, with which, since my arrival, I had 
 already become somewhat familiar. 
 
 The following morning was bright and beautiful. 
 The snow, except in places where the wind had drifted 
 it into wreaths, had entirely disappeared; and after 
 breakfast, I was glad to accept the invitation of my 
 worthy host, to examine his demesne, which was real- 
 ly Very beautiful and extensive. Nothing could be 
 finer than the situation of the house. It stands upon 
 a lofty terrace, overhanging the Hudson, whose noble 
 stream lends richness and grandeur to the whole ex- 
 tent of the foreground of the landscape. Above, its 
 waters are seen to approach from a country finely va- 
 riegated, but unmarked by any peculiar boldness of 
 feature. Below, it is lost among a range of rocky and 
 wooded eminences of highly picturesque outline. In 
 one direction alone, however, is the prospect very ex- 
 tensive, and in that, (the southwest,) the Catskill Moun- 
 tains, sending their bald and rugged summits far up into 
 the sky, form a glorious framework for the picture. 
 
 We drove through a finely-undulating country, in 
 which the glories of the ancient forest have been re- 
 placed by bare fields, intersected by hideous zigzag 
 fences. God meant it to be beautiful, when he gave 
 such noble varieties of hill and plain, wood and water; 
 but man seemed determined it should be otherwise. 
 No beauty which the axe could remove was suffered 
 to remain; and wherever the tide of population reached, 
 the havoc had been indiscriminate and unsparing. 
 
 Yet, of this, it were not only useless, but ridiculous 
 to complain. Such changes are not optional, but im- 
 perative. The progress of population necessarily in- 
 volves them, and they must be regarded only as the 
 process by which the wilderness is brought to minister 
 to the wants and enjoyments of civilized man. The 
 time at length comes, when another and a higher beau- 
 ty replaces that which has been destroyed. It is only 
 the state of transition which it is unpleasant to behold; 
 the particular stage of advancement in which the wild 
 grandeur of nature has disappeared, and the charm of 
 cultivation has not yet replaced it.
 
 FARMING IN AMERICA. 51 
 
 Dr. Hosack was a farmer, and took great interest in 
 the laudable, but expensive amusement of improving 
 his estate. He had imported sheep and cattle from 
 England, of the most improved breeds, and in this re- 
 spect promised to be a benefactor to his neighbourhood. 
 I am not much of a farmer, and found the Doctor sa- 
 gacious about long horns and short legs, in a degree 
 which impressed me with a due consciousness of my ig- 
 norance. The farm offices were extensive and well 
 arranged, and contained some excellent horses. A pair 
 of powerful carriage-horses, in particular, attracted my 
 admiration. In this country these fine animals cost 
 only two hundred dollars. In London, I am sure, that 
 under Tattersall's hammer, they would not fetch less 
 than three hundred guineas. 
 
 But America is not the place for a gentleman farmer. 
 The price of labour is high, and besides, it cannot al- 
 ways be commanded at any price. The condition of 
 society is not yet ripe for farming on a great scale. 
 There will probably be no American Mr. Coke for 
 some centuries to come. The Transatlantic Sir John 
 Sinclairs are yet in ovo, and a long period of incubation 
 must intervene, before we can expect them to crack 
 the shell. As things at present stand, small farmers 
 could beat the great ones out of the field. What a 
 man produces by his own labour, and that of his fami- 
 ly, he produces cheaply. What he is compelled to hire 
 others to perform, is done expensively. It is always 
 the interest of the latter to get as much, and give as 
 little labour in exchange for it as they can. Then 
 arises the necessity of bailiffs and overseers, fresh 
 mouths to be fed and pockets to be filled, and the owner 
 may consider himself fortunate if these are content with 
 devouring the profits, without swallowing the estate 
 into the bargain. 
 
 Having passed two very pleasant days with my kind 
 and hospitable friends, I again took steam on my return 
 to New York. Dr. Hosack was good enough to accom- 
 pany me on board, and introduce me to a family of the 
 neighbourhood, who were returning from their summer 
 residence to pass the winter in the city. In its mem- 
 bers, was included one of the most intelligent and ac-
 
 52 SEMINARY OF EDUCATION. 
 
 complished ladies I have ever met in any country. 
 The voyage, therefore, did not appear tedious, though 
 the greater part of it was performed in the dark. 
 About ten o'clock the steam-boat was alongside of the 
 quay, and I speedily found myself installed in my old 
 quarters in Bunker's hotel. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 PROFESSOR GRJSCOMB, a member of the Society of 
 Friends, was obliging enough to conduct me over a 
 large seminary placed under his immediate superinten- 
 dence. The general plan of education is one with 
 which, in Scotland at least, we are familiar, and I did 
 not remark that any material improvement had fol- 
 lowed its adoption in the United States. To divide 
 boys into large classes of fifty or a hundred, in which, 
 of course, the rate of advancement of the slowest boy 
 must regulate that of the cleverest and most assiduous, 
 does not, I confess, appear a system founded on very 
 sound or rational principles. On this plan of retarda- 
 tion, it is, of course, necessary to discover some employ- 
 ment for the boys, whose talents enable them to out- 
 strip their fellows; and this is done by appointing them 
 to the office of monitor, or teacher, of a subdivision of 
 the class. This mode of communicating knowledge 
 has its advantages and its faults. It is no doubt bene- 
 ficial to the great body of the class, who are instructed 
 with greater facility, and less labour to the master. 
 But the monitors are little better than scape-goats, 
 who, with some injustice, are made to pay the whole 
 penalty of the comparative dulnessof their companions. 
 The system, however, I have been assured, both in this 
 country and in England, is found to work well, and I 
 have no doubt it does so in respect to the average 
 amount of instruction imparted to the pupils. But the
 
 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 53 
 
 principle of sacrificing the clever few, for the advance- 
 ment of the stupid many, is one, I still humbly conceive, 
 to be liable to strong objections. Of establishments on 
 this principle, I have seen none more successful than 
 that of Professor Griscomb. Every thing which zeal 
 and talent on the part of the master could effect, had 
 obviously been done; and on the part of the scholars, 
 there was assuredly no want of proficiency in any 
 branch of knowledge adapted to their age and capa- 
 city. 
 
 A striking difference exists between the system of 
 rewards and punishments adopted in the schools of the 
 United States, and in those of England. In the former, 
 neither personal infliction, nor forcible coercion of any 
 kind, is permitted. How far such a system is likely to 
 prove successful, I cannot yet form an opinion, but 
 judging solely from the seminary under Dr. Griscomb, 
 I sHbuld be inclined to augur favourably of its results. 
 It has always, however, appeared strange to me, that 
 the American should betray so strong an antipathy to 
 the system of the public schools of England. There are 
 no other establishments, perhaps, in our country, so en- 
 entirely republican both in principle and practice. 
 Rank is there allowed no privileges, and the only re- 
 cognised aristocracy is that of personal qualities. Yet 
 these schools are far from finding favour in American 
 eyes. The system of fagging, in particular, is regarded 
 with abhorrence; and since my arrival, I have never 
 met any one who could even .speak of it with patience. 
 The state of feeling on this matter in the two countries 
 presents this curious anomaly : A young English noble- 
 man is sent to Westminster or Winchester to brush 
 coats and wash tea-cups, while the meanest American 
 storekeeper would redden with virtuous indignation at 
 the very thought of the issue of his loins contaminating 
 his plebeian blood by the discharge of such functions. 
 
 The difference of feeling, however, seems to admit of 
 easy explanation. In England, the menial offices in 
 question form the duties of freemen; in America, even 
 in those States where slavery has been abolished, do- 
 mestic service being discharged by Negroes, is connect- 
 ed with a thousand degrading associations. So power-
 
 54 SCHOOL DISCIPLINE. 
 
 ful are these, that I have never yet conversed with an 
 American who could understand that there is nothing 
 intrinsically disgraceful in such duties; and their being 
 at all considered so, proceeds entirely from a certain 
 confusion of thought, which connects the office with the 
 manners and character of those by whom it is dis- 
 charged. In a country where household services are 
 generally performed by persons of respectable charac-. 
 ter, on a level, in point of morals and acquirement, 
 with other handicraftsmen, it is evident that such pre- 
 judice could exist in no material degree. But it certain- 
 ly could not exist at all in a country, where for a certain 
 period such services were performed by all, including 
 every rank below royalty. Let the idea of personal 
 degradation, therefore, be wholly abstracted, and then 
 the question will rest on its true basis, namely, whether 
 such discipline as that adopted in our public schools, be 
 favourable to the improvement of the moral character 
 or not? 
 
 In England, the system is believed from long experi- 
 ence to work practically well. No man will say, that 
 British gentlemen, formed under the discipline of these 
 institutions, are deficient in high bearing, or in generous 
 spirit; nor will it readily be considered a disadvantage, 
 that those who are afterwards to wield the united in- 
 fluence of rank and wealth, should, in their early years, 
 be placed in a situation, where their personal and moral 
 .qualities alone can place them even on an equality with 
 their companions. . 
 
 It is very probable, indeed, that a system suited to a 
 country, in which gradation of ranks forms an integral 
 part of the constitution, may not be adapted to another, 
 which differs so widely iti these respects, as the United 
 States. Here, there is no pride of birth or station to 
 be overcome; and whether, under circumstances so dif- 
 ferent, the kind of discipline in question might operate 
 beneficially or otherwise, is a point on which I certain- 
 ly do not presume to decide. I only assert my convic- 
 tion, that in this country it has never yet been made 
 the subject of liberal and enlightened discussion, and 
 therefore that the value of Transatlantic opinion with 
 regard to it is absolutely null. The conclusion adopted
 
 SCHOOL FOR CHILDREN OF COLOUR. 55 
 
 may be right, but the grounds on which it is founded 
 are evidently wrong. 
 
 Having resolved to devote the day to the inspection 
 of schools, I went from that under the superintendence 
 of Professor Griscomb, to another for the education 
 of children of colour. I here found about a hundred 
 boys, in whose countenances might be traced every pos- 
 sible gradation of complexion between those of the 
 swarthy Ethiop and florid European. Indeed, several 
 of the children were so fair, that I certainly never 
 should have discovered the lurking taint of African de- 
 scent. In person they were clean and neat, and though 
 of course the offspring of the very lowest class of the 
 people, there was nothing in their dress or appearance 
 indicative of abject poverty. The master struck me 
 as an intelligent and benevolent man. He frankly an- 
 swered all my questions, and evidently took pride in 
 the proficiency of his pupils. 
 
 It has often happened to me, since my arrival in this 
 country, to hear it gravely maintained by men of edu- 
 cation and intelligence, that the Negroes were an infe- 
 rior race, a link as it were between man and the brutes. 
 Having enjoyed few opportunities of observation on peo- 
 ple of colour in my own country, I was now glad to be 
 enabled to enlarge my knowledge on a subject so in- 
 teresting. I therefore requested the master to inform 
 me whether the results of his experience had led to the 
 inference, that the aptitude of the Negro children for 
 acquiring knowledge was inferior to that of the whites. 
 In reply, he assured me they had not done so; and, on 
 the contrary, declared, that in sagacity, perseverance, 
 and capacity for the acquisition and retention of know- 
 ledge, his poor despised scholars were equal to any boys 
 he had ever known. " But, alas, sir !" said he, " to what 
 end are these poor creatures taught acquirement, from 
 the exercise of which they are destined to be debarred, 
 by the prejudices of society? It is surely but a cruel 
 mockery to cultivate talents, when in the present state 
 of public feeling, there is no field open for their useful 
 employment. Be his acquirements what they may, a 
 Negro is still a Negro, or, in other words, a creature 
 marked out for degradation, and exclusion from those
 
 56 PROFICIENCY OF THE SCHOLARS. 
 
 objects which stimulate the hopes and powers of other 
 men." 
 
 I observed, in reply, that I was not aware that, in 
 those States in which slavery had been abolished, any 
 such barrier existed as that to which he alluded. " In 
 the State of New York, for instance," I asked, " are not 
 all offices and professions open to the man of colour as 
 well as to the white?" 
 
 " I see, sir," replied he, " that you are not a native 
 of this country, or you would not have asked such a 
 question. He then went on to inform me, that the 
 exclusion in question did not arise from any legislative 
 enactment, but from the tyranny of that prejudice, 
 which, regarding the poor black as a being of inferior 
 order, works its own fulfilment in making him so. There 
 was no answering this, for it accorded too well with my 
 own observations in society, not to carry my implicit 
 belief. 
 
 The master then proceeded to explain the system of 
 education adopted in the school, and subsequently af- 
 forded many gratifying proofs of the proficiency of his 
 scholars. One class was employed in navigation, and 
 worked several complicated problems with great accu- 
 racy and rapidity. A large proportion were perfectly 
 conversant with arithmetic, and not a few with the 
 lower mathematics. A long and rigid examination took 
 place in geography, in the course of which questions 
 were answered with facility, which I confess would 
 have puzzled me exceedingly, had they been addressed 
 to myself. 
 
 1 had become so much interested in the little party- 
 coloured crowd before me, that I recurred to our for- 
 mer discourse, and inquired of the master, what would 
 probably become of his scholars on their being sent out 
 into the world 1 Some trades, some description of la- 
 bour of course were open to them, and I expressed my 
 desire to know what these were. He told me they 
 were few. The class studying navigation, were destined 
 to be sailors; but let their talents be what they might, 
 it was impossible they could rise to be officers of the 
 paltriest merchantman that entered the waters of the 
 United States. The office of cook or steward was in-
 
 SUBJECTED TO THE SLAVERY OF OPINION. 57 
 
 deed within the scope of their ambition; but it was just 
 as feasible for the poor creatures to expect to became 
 Chancellor of the State, as mate of a ship. In other 
 pursuits, it was the same. Some would become stone- 
 masons, or bricklayers, and to the extent of carrying a 
 hod, or handling a trowel, the course was clear before 
 them; but the office of master-bricklayer was open to 
 them in precisely the same sense as the Professorship of 
 Natural Philosophy. No white artificer would serve 
 under a coloured master. The most degraded Irish 
 emigrant would scout the idea with indignation. As 
 carpenters, shoemakers, or tailors, they were still ar- 
 rested by the same barrier. In either of the latter ca- 
 pacities, indeed, they might work for people of their 
 own complexion, but no gentleman would ever think 
 of ordering garments of any sort from a Schneider of 
 cuticle less white than his own. Grocers they might 
 be, but then who could perceive the possibility of a re- 
 spectable household matron purchasing tea or spiceries 
 from a vile " Nigger?" As barbers, they were more 
 fortunate, and in that capacity might even enjoy the 
 privilege of taking the President of the United States 
 by the nose. Throughout the Union, the department 
 of domestic service particularly belongs to them, though 
 recently they are beginning, to find rivals in the Irish 
 emigrants, who come annually in swarms like locusts. 
 On the whole, I cannot help considering it a mistake 
 to suppose, that slavery has been abolished in the 
 Northern States of the Union. It is true, indeed, that 
 in these States the power of compulsory labour no long^- 
 er exists; and that one human being within their limits, 
 ean no longer claim property in the thews and sinews 
 of another. But is this all that is implied in the boon 
 of freedom? If the word mean any thing, it must mean 
 the enjoyment of equal rights, and the unfettered ex- 
 ercise in each individual of such powers and faculties 
 as God has given him. In this true meaning of the 
 word, it may be safely asserted, that this poor degraded 
 caste are still slaves. They are subjected to the most 
 grinding and humiliating of all slaveries, that of uni- 
 versal and unconquerable prejudice. The whip, in- 
 deed, has been removed from the back of the Negro, 
 
 8
 
 58 CONDITION OF THE COLOURED POPULATION. 
 
 but the chains are still on his limbs, and he bears the 
 brand of degradation on his forehead. What is it but 
 the mere abuse of language to call him free, who is 
 tyrannically deprived of all the motives to exertion 
 which animate other men? The law, in truth, has left 
 him in that most pitiable of all conditions, a master- 
 less slave. 
 
 It cannot be denied, that the Negro population are 
 still compelled, as a class, to be the hewers of wood, 
 and drawers of water, to their fellow-citizens. Citi- 
 zens! there is, indeed, something ludicrous in the ap- 
 plication of the word to these miserable Pariahs. What 
 privileges do they enjoy as such? Are they admissible 
 upon a jury? Can they enrol themselves in the militia? 
 Will a white man eat with them, or extend to them the 
 hand of fellowship? Alas! if these men, so irresistibly 
 manacled to degradation, are to be called free, tell us, 
 at least, what stuff are slaves made of! 
 
 But on this subject, perhaps, another tone of expres- 
 sion of thought, there can be no other may be more 
 judicious. I have already seen abundant proofs, that 
 the prejudices against the coloured portion of the po- 
 pulation, prevailed to an extent, of which an English- 
 man could have formed no idea. But many enlight- 
 ened men, I am convinced are above them. To these 
 I would appeal. They have already begun the work 
 of raising this unfortunate race from the almost brutal 
 state to which tyranny and injustice had condemned 
 it. But let them not content themselves with such de- 
 lusive benefits as the extension of the right of suffrage, 
 recently conferred by the Legislature of New York.* 
 The opposition to be overcome, is not that of law, 
 but of opinion. If, in unison with the ministers of re- 
 ligion, they will set their shoulders to the wheel, and 
 combat prejudice with reason, ignorance with knovv- 
 
 * The Legislature of New York, in 1829, extended the right of 
 suffrage to men of colour, possessed of a clear freehold estate, without 
 encumbrance, of the value of 250 dollars. A very safe concession, no 
 doubt, since to balance the black interest, the same right of suffrage 
 was granted to every white male of twenty-one years, who has been one 
 year in the State. It might be curious to know how many coloured 
 voters became qualified by this enactment. They must, indeed, 
 have been ran nantes in gurgite vasto of the election.
 
 ANECDOTE OF A YOUNG HAYTIAN. 59 
 
 ledge, and pharisalcal assumption with the mild tenets 
 of Christianity, they must succeed in infusing a better 
 tone into the minds and hearts of their countrymen. It 
 is true, indeed, the victory will not be achieved in a 
 day, nor probably in an age, but assuredly it will come 
 at last. In achieving it, they will become the bene- 
 factors, not only of the Negro population, but of their 
 fellow-citizens. They will give freedom to both; for 
 the man is really not more free, whose mind is shackled 
 by degrading prejudice, than he who is its victim. 
 
 As illustrative of the matter in hand, I am tempted 
 here to relate an anecdote, though somewhat out of 
 place, as it did not occur till my return to New York 
 the following spring. Chancing one day at the Ordi- 
 nary at Bunker's to sit next an English merchant from 
 St. Domingo, in the course of conversation, he men- 
 tioned the following circumstances. The son of a Hay- 
 tian general, high in the favour of Boyer, recently ac- 
 companied him to New York, which he came to visit 
 for pleasure and instruction. This young man, though 
 a mulatto, was pleasing in manner, and with more in- 
 telligence than'is usually to be met with in a country 
 in which education is so defective. At home, he had 
 been accustomed to receive all the deference due to his 
 rank, and when he arrived in New York, it was with 
 high anticipations of the pleasure that awaited him in 
 a city so opulent and enlightened. 
 
 On landing, he inquired for the best hotel, and di- 
 rected his baggage to be conveyed there. He was 
 rudely refused admittance, and tried several others 
 with similar result. At length he was forced to take 
 up his abode in a miserable lodging-house kept by a 
 Negro woman. The pride of the young Haytian 
 (who, sooth to say, was something of a dandy, and 
 made imposing display of gold chains and brooches,) 
 was sadly galled by this, and the experience of every 
 hour tended farther to confirm the conviction, that, in 
 this country, he was regarded as a degraded being, 
 with whom the meanest white man would hold it dis- 
 graceful to associate. In the evening, he went to the 
 theatre, and tendered his money to the box-keeper. It 
 was tossed back to him, with a disdainful intimation,
 
 60 PEOPLE OF COLOUR. 
 
 that the place for persons of his colour was the upper 
 gallery. 
 
 On the following morning, my countryman, who had 
 frequently been a guest at the table of his father, paid 
 him a visit. He found the young Haytian in despair. 
 All his dreams of pleasure were gone, and he returned 
 to his native island by the first conveyance, to visit the 
 United States no more. 
 
 This young man should have gone to Europe. 
 Should he visit England, he may feel quite secure, 
 that, if he have money in his pocket, he will offer 
 himself at no hotel, from Land's End to John O'Groat's 
 house, where he will not meet with a very cordial recep- 
 tion. Churches, theatres, operas, concerts, coaches, 
 chariots, cabs, vans, wagons, steam-boats, railway-car- 
 riages and air-balloons, will all be open to him as the 
 daylight. He may repose on cushions of down or of 
 air, he may charm his ear with music, and his palate 
 with luxuries of all sorts. He may travel en prince, 
 or en roturier, precisely as his fancy dictates, and 
 may enjoy even the honours of a crowned head, if he 
 will only pay like one. In short, so long as he carries 
 certain golden ballast about with him, all will go well. 
 But when that is done, his case is pitiable. He will 
 then become familiar with the provisions of the vagrant 
 act, and Mr. Roe or Mr. Ballantine will recommend 
 exercise on the treadmill, for the benefit of his consti- 
 tution. Let him but show his nose abroad, and a whole 
 host of parish overseers will take alarm. The new 
 police will bait him like a bull; and should he dare 
 approach even the lowest eating-house, the master will 
 shut the door in his face. If he ask charity, he will 
 be told to work. If he beg work, he will be told to 
 get about his business. If he steal, he will be found 
 a free passage to Botany Bay, and be dressed gratis on 
 his arrival, in an elegant suit of yellow. If he rob, 
 he will be found a free passage to another world, in 
 which, as there is no paying or receiving in payment, 
 we may hope that his troubles will be at an end for 
 ever,
 
 HOUSES IN NEW YORK, 61 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 HAVING moved, since my arrival, in a tolerably wide 
 circle, I now feel qualified to offer some observations 
 on the state of society in New York. The houses of 
 the better order of citizens, are generally of brick, 
 sometimes faced with stone or marble, and, in the al- 
 lotment of the interior very similar to tenements of 
 the same class in England. The dining and drawing- 
 rooms are uniformly on the ground floor, and commu- 
 nicate by folding-doors, which, when dinner is an- 
 nounced, are thrown open for the transit of the com- 
 pany. The former of these apartments, so far as my 
 observation has carried me, differs nothing in appear- 
 ance from an English one. But the drawing-rooms in 
 New York certainly strike me as being a good deal 
 more primitive in their appliances than those of the 
 more opulent classes in the old country. Furniture in 
 the United States is, apparently, not one of those arti- 
 cles in which wealth takes pride in displaying its supe- 
 riority. Every thing is comfortable, but every thing 
 is plain. Here are no buhl tables, nor or-molu clocks, 
 nor gigantic mirrors, nor cabinets of Japan, nor dra- 
 peries of silk or velvet; and one certainly does miss 
 those thousand elegancies, with which the taste of 
 British ladies delights in adorning their apartments. 
 In short, the appearance of an American mansion is 
 decidedly republican. No want remains unsupplied, 
 while nothing is done for the gratification of a taste for 
 expensive luxury. 
 
 This is as it should be. There are few instances of 
 such opulence in America, as would enable the owner, 
 without inconvenience, to lavish thousands on pictures, 
 ottomans, and china vases. In such a country, there 
 are means of profitable outlay for every shilling of ac^ 
 cumulated capital, and the Americans are too prudent
 
 62 SERVANTS IN AMERICA. 
 
 a people to invest in objects of mere taste, that which, 
 in the more vulgar shape of cotton and tobacco, would 
 tend to the replenishing of their pockets. And, after 
 all, it is better, perhaps, to sit on leather or cotton, 
 with a comfortable balance at one's banker's book, than, 
 to lounge on damask, and tread on carpets of Persia, 
 puzzling our brains about the budget and the ways and 
 means. 
 
 One cause of the effect just noticed, is, unquestiona- 
 bly, the absence of the law, or, rather, the custom of 
 primogeniture. A man, whose fortune, at his death, 
 must be divided among a numerous family, in equal 
 proportions, will not readily invest any considerable 
 portion of it, in such inconvertible objects as the pro- 
 ductions of the fine arts, and still less in articles of 
 mere household luxury, unsuited to the circumstances 
 of his descendants. It will rarely happen, that a fa- 
 ther can bequeath to each of his children enough to 
 render them independent. They have to struggle into 
 opulence as best they may; and, assuredly, to men so 
 circumstanced, nothing could be more inconvenient 
 and distasteful, than to receive any part of their lega- 
 cies in the form of pictures, or scagliola tables, in- 
 gtead of Erie canal shares, or bills of the New York 
 Bank. 
 
 Another circumstance, probably not without its ef- 
 fect in recommending both paucity and plainness of 
 furniture, is the badness of the servants. These are 
 .chiefly people of colour, habituated, from their cradle, 
 to be regarded as an inferior race, and, consequently, 
 sadly wanting both in moral energy and principle. 
 Every lady with whom I have conversed on the sub- 
 ject, speaks with envy of the superior comforts and fa~ 
 cilities of an English establishment. A coloured ser- 
 vant, they declare, requires perpetual supervision. He 
 is an executive, not a deliberative being. Under such 
 circumstances, the drudgery that devolves on an Ame- 
 rican matron, I should imagine to be excessive. She 
 must direct every operation that is going on from the 
 garret to the cellar. She must be her own housekeep- 
 er, superintend all the outgoings and comings in, and 
 interfere in a thousand petty and annoying details,
 
 SERVANTS IN AMERICA. 63 
 
 which, in England, go on like clock-work, out of sight 
 and out of thought. 
 
 If it fare so with the mistress of an establishment, the 
 master has no sinecure. A butler is out of the ques- 
 tion. He would much rather know that the keys of 
 his cellar were at the bottom of the Hudson, than in 
 the pocket of black Cassar, with a fair opportunity of 
 getting at his Marston or his Bingham. Few of the 
 coloured population have energy to resist temptation. 
 The dread of punishment has been removed as an ha- 
 bitual motive to exertion, but the sense of inextin- 
 guishable degradation yet remains. 
 
 The torment of such servants has induced many fa- 
 milies in New York to discard them altogether, and 
 supply their places with natives of the Emerald Isle. 
 It may be doubted, whether the change has generally 
 been accompanied by much advantage. Domestic ser- 
 vice in the United States is considered as degrading by 
 all untainted by the curse of African descent. No na- 
 tive American could be induced to it, and popular as 
 the present President may be, he would probably not 
 find one of his constituents, whom any amount of emo- 
 lument would induce to brush his coat, or stand behind 
 his carriage. On their arrival in this country, there- 
 fore, the Scotch and English, who are not partial to 
 being looked down upon by their neighbours, very soon 
 get hold of this prejudice; but he of that terrestrial 
 paradise, "first flower of the earth, and first gem of 
 the sea," has no such scruples. Landing often, at the 
 quay of New York, without hat, shoes, and sometimes 
 less dispensable garments, he is content to put his pride 
 in his pocket, where there is always ample room for 
 its accommodation. But even with him domestic ser- 
 vice is only a temporary expedient. The moment 
 he contrives to scrape together a little money, he bids 
 his master good morning, and fired with the ambition 
 of farming or store-keeping, starts off for the back 
 country. 
 
 The nuisance of this is, that no white servant is ever 
 stationary in a place. He comes a mere clod-pole, and 
 is no sooner taught his duty, and become a useful mem- 
 ber of the house, than he accepts the Chiltern Hun-
 
 64 SERVANTS IN AMERICA. 
 
 dreds, and a new writ must forthwith be issued for a 
 tenant of the pantry. Now, though annual elections 
 may be very good things in the body politic, the most 
 democratic American will probably admit, that in the 
 body domestic, the longer the members keep their 
 seats the better. Habits of office are of some value in 
 a valet, as well as in a secretary of state, and how these 
 are to be obtained by either functionary, as matters are 
 at present ordered in this country, I profess myself at 
 a loss to understand. 
 
 When you enter an American house, either in qua- 
 lity of casual visiter or invited guest, the servant never 
 thinks of ushering you to the company; on the con- 
 trary, he immediately disappears, leaving you to ex- 
 plore your way, in a navigation of which you know 
 nothing, or to amuse yourself in the passage by count- 
 ing the hat-pegs and umbrellas. In a strange house, 
 one cannot take the liberty of bawling for assistance, 
 and the choice only remains of opening doors on spe- 
 culation, with the imminent risk of intruding on the 
 bed-room of some young lady, or of cutting the gor- 
 dian knot by escaping through the only one you know 
 any thing about. I confess, that the first time I found 
 myself in this unpleasant predicament, the latter expe- 
 dient was the one I adopted, though, I fear, not with- 
 out offence to an excellent family, who, having learned 
 the fact of my admission, could not be supposed to 
 understand the motive of my precipitate retreat. 
 
 On the whole, the difference is not striking, I should 
 imagine, between the social habits of the people of 
 New York, and those prevalent in our first-rate mer- 
 cantile cities. In both, the faculties are exerted in the 
 same pursuits; in both, the dominant aristocracy is that 
 of wealth ; and, in both, there is the same grasping at 
 unsubstantial and unacknowledged distinctions. 
 
 It is the fashion to call the United States the land of 
 liberty and equality. If the term equality be under- 
 stood simply as implying, that there exists no privileged 
 order in America, the assertion, though not strictly 
 true,* may pass. In any wider acceptation it is mere 
 
 * Not strictly true, because in many of the States the right of suf-
 
 MANNERS OF THE HIGHER ORDERS. 65 
 
 nonsense. There is quite as much practical equality in 
 Liverpool as New York. The magnates of the Ex- 
 change do not strut less proudly in the latter city than 
 in the former ; nor are their wives and daughters more 
 backward in supporting their pretensions. In such 
 matters legislative enactments can do nothing. Man's 
 vanity, and the desire of distinction inherent in his na- 
 ture, cannot be repressed. If obstructed in one outlet, 
 it will only gush forth with greater vehemence at ano- 
 ther. The most contemptible of mankind has some ta- 
 lent of mind or body, some attraction virtue accom- 
 plishment dexterity or gift of fortune, in short, 
 something real or imaginary, on which he arrogates 
 superiority to those around him. The rich man looks 
 down upon the poor, the learned on the ignorant, the 
 orator on him unblessed with the gift of tongues, and 
 " he that is a true-born gentleman, and stands upon the 
 honour of his birth," despises the roturier, whose talents 
 have raised him to an estimation in society, perhaps, 
 superior to his own. 
 
 Thus it is with the men, and with the fairer sex as- 
 suredly it is not different. No woman, conscious of at- 
 traction, was ever a republican in her heart. Beauty 
 is essentially despotic it uniformly asserts its power, 
 and never yet consented to a surrender of privilege. I 
 have certainly heard it maintained in the United States, 
 that all men were equal, but never did I hear that as- 
 sertion from the lips of a lady. On the contrary, the 
 latter is always conscious of the full extent of her 
 claims to preference and admiration, and is never satis- 
 fied till she feels them to be acknowledged. And what 
 zephyr is too light to fill the gossamer sails of woman's 
 vanity ! The form of a feature, the whiteness of a 
 hand, the shade of a ringlet, a cap, a feather, a trinket, 
 a smile, a motion all, or any of these, or distinctions 
 yet finer and more shadowy, if such there be are 
 enough, here as elsewhere, to constitute the sign and 
 shibboleth of her fantastic supremacy. It is in vain, 
 therefore, to talk of female republicans; there exists, 
 
 frage is made dependent on a certain qualification in property. In 
 Virginia, in particular, this qualification is very high.
 
 66 ARISTOCRACY OF FASHION. 
 
 and can exist, no such being on either side of the At- 
 lantic, for human nature is the same on both. 
 
 In truth, the spirit of aristocracy displays itself in 
 this commercial community in every variety of form. 
 One encounters it at every turn. T'other night, at a 
 ball, I had the honour to converse a good deal with a 
 lady, who is confessedly a star of the first magnitude in 
 the hemisphere of fashion. She inquired what I thought 
 of the company. 1 answered, " that I had rarely seen 
 a party in any country in which the average of beauty 
 appeared to me to be so high." 
 
 " Indeed!" answered my fair companion, with an ex- 
 pression of surprise; " it would seem that you English 
 gentlemen are not difficult to please; but does it strike 
 you, that the average is equally high as regards air, 
 manner, fashion ?" 
 
 " In regard to such matters," I replied, " I certainly 
 could not claim for the party in question any remarka- 
 ble distinction; but that, in a scene so animated, and 
 brilliant with youth, beauty, and gaiety of spirit, I was 
 little disposed to play the critic." 
 
 " Nay," replied my opponent, for the conversation 
 had already begun to assume something of the form of 
 argument, " it surely requires no spirit of rigid criticism, 
 to discriminate between such a set of vulgarians, as you 
 see collected here, and ladies who have been accus- 
 tomed to move in a higher and better circle. Mrs. 
 
 is an odd person, and makes it a point to bring 
 
 together at her balls all the riff-raff of the place peo- 
 ple whom, if you were to remain ten years in New 
 York, you would probably never meet any where else. 
 I assure you, there are not a dozen girls in this room 
 that I should think of admitting to my own parties." 
 
 Thus driven from the field, I ventured to direct her 
 notice to several elegant and pretty girls, about whom 
 I asked some questions. Their attractions, however, 
 were either not admitted, or when these were too de- 
 cided to allow of direct negation, the subject was inge- 
 niously evaded. If I talked of a pretty foot, I was told 
 its owner was the daughter of a tobacconist. If I ad- 
 mired a graceful dancer, I was assured (what I certain- 
 ly should not have discovered) that the young lady was
 
 ARISTOCRACY OF WEALTH. 67 
 
 of vulgar manners, and without education. Some were 
 so utterly unknown to fame, that the very names, birth, 
 habits, and connexions, were buried in the most pro- 
 found and impenetrable obscurity. In short, a Count 
 of the Empire, with his sixteen quarterings, probably 
 would not have thought, and certainly would not have 
 spoken, with contempt half so virulent of these fair ple- 
 beians. The reader will perhaps agree, that there are 
 more exclusives in the world than the lady-patronesses 
 of Almack's. 
 
 I shall now give an instance of the estimation in 
 which wealth is held in this commercial community. 
 At a party a few evenings ago, the worthy host was 
 politely assiduous in introducing me to the more promi- 
 nent individuals who composed it. Unfortunately, he 
 considered it necessary to preface each repetition of the 
 ceremony with some preliminary account of-.the pecu- 
 niary circumstances of the gentleman, the honour of 
 whose acquaintance was about to be conferred on me. 
 "Do you observe," he asked, "that tall thin person, 
 with a cast in his eye, and his nose a little cocked ? 
 Well, that man, not three months ago, made a hundred 
 thousand dollars by a single speculation in tallow. 
 must allow me to introduce you to him." 
 
 The introduction passed, and my zealous cicerone 
 again approached, with increased importance of aspect 
 " A gentleman," he said, " worth at least half a mil- 
 lion, had expressed a desire to make my acquaintance." 
 This was gratifying, and, of course, not to be denied. 
 A third time did our worthy entertainer return to the 
 charge, and before taking my departure, I had the ho- 
 nour of being introduced to an individual, who was 
 stated to be still more opulent than his predecessors. 
 Had I been presented to so many bags of dollars, in- 
 stead of to their possessors, the ceremony would have 
 been quite as interesting, and perhaps less trouble- 
 some. 
 
 The truth is, that in a population wholly devoted 
 to money-getting, the respect paid to wealth is so 
 pervadingly diffused, that it rarely occurred to any 
 one, that it was impossible I should feel the slightest 
 interest in the private circumstances'of the gentlemen
 
 68 NEW YORK PARTIES. 
 
 with whom I might chance to form a transient acquain- 
 tance. It is far from my intention, however, to assert, 
 that many of the travelled and more intelligent order 
 of Americans could be guilty of such sottises as that to 
 which I have alluded. But it is unquestionably true, 
 that the tone of conversation, even in the best circles, 
 is materially lowered by the degree in which it is en- 
 grossed by money and its various interests. Since my 
 arrival, I have received much involuntary instruction 
 in the prices of corn, cotton, and tobacco. I am alrea- 
 dy well informed as to the reputed pecuniary resources 
 of every gentleman of my acquaintance, and the annual 
 amount of his disbursements. My stock of informa- 
 tion as to bankruptcies and dividends is very respecta- 
 ble; and if the manufacturers of Glasgow and Paisley 
 knew only half as well as I do, how thoroughly the 
 New York market is glutted with their goods, they 
 assuredly would send out no more on speculation. 
 
 The usual dinner hour at New York is three o'clock; 
 and, as the gentlemen almost uniformly return to the 
 discharge of business in the evening, it may be pre- 
 sumed that dinner parties are neither convenient t'o 
 he entertainer nor to the guests. Though not uncom- 
 non, therefore, they are certainly less frequent than 
 among individuals of the same class in England. This 
 circumstance has, perhaps, wrought some change in 
 their character, and deprived them of that appearance 
 of easy and habitual hospitality, for the absence of 
 which, additional splendour or profusion can afford but 
 imperfect compensation. When a dinner party is given 
 in this country, it is always on a great scale. Earth, 
 and air, and ocean, are ransacked for their products. 
 The whole habits of the family are deranged. The 
 usual period of the meal is postponed for several hours; 
 and, considering the materials of which an American 
 menage is composed, it is not difficult to conceive the 
 bustle and confusion participated by each member of 
 the establishment, from Peter, the saffron-coloured 
 groom of the chambers, to Silvia, the black kitchen 
 wench. 
 
 In the ordinary routine, therefore, of American in- 
 tercourse, visiting seldom commences till the evening,
 
 NEW YORK PARTIES. 69 
 
 when the wealthier members of the community almost 
 uniformly open their houses for the reception of com- 
 pany. Of this hospitable arrangement I have frequent- 
 ly taken advantage. On such occasions little ceremo- 
 ny is observed. Each guest enters and departs when 
 he thinks proper, without apology or explanation. Mu- 
 sic and conversation are the usual entertainments 
 some slight refection is handed round, and before mid- 
 night the party has broken up. 
 
 This facility of intercourse is both pleasant and con- 
 venient to a stranger like myself. It affords valuable 
 opportunities for the observation of manners; and it is 
 pleasing to be admitted within the charmed circle, 
 which many of my predecessors have found it difficult, 
 if not impossible, to overpass. 
 
 The formalities of a New York dinner do not differ 
 much from those of an English one. Unfortunately, 
 it is not here the fashion to invite the fairer part of 
 creation to entertainments so gross and substantial, and 
 it rarely happens that any ladies are present on such 
 occasions, except those belonging to the family of the 
 host. The party, however, is always enlivened by 
 their presence at the tea-table; and then comes music, 
 and perhaps dancing: while those who, like myself, 
 are disqualified for active participation in such festivi- 
 ties, talk with an air of grave authority of revolutions 
 in Europe, the prospects of war or peace, Parliamen- 
 tary Reform, and other high and interesting matters. 
 
 Before dinner, the conversation of the company as- 
 sembled in the drawing-room is here, as elsewhere, ge- 
 nerally languid enough; but a change suddenly comes 
 over the spirit of their dream: The folding-doors which 
 communicate with the dining-room are thrown open, 
 and all paradise is at once let in on the soul of a gour- 
 mand. The table, instead of displaying, as with us, a 
 mere beggarly account offish and soup, exhibits an ar- 
 ray of dishes closely wedged in triple column, which 
 it would require at least an acre of mahogany to deploy 
 into line. Plate, it is true, does not contribute much 
 to the splendour of the prospect, but there is quite 
 enough for comfort, though not, perhaps, for display. 
 The lady of the mansion is handed in form to her seat,
 
 70 WINES. 
 
 and the entertainment begins. The domestics, black, 
 white, snuff-coloured, and nankeen, are in motion; 
 plates vanish and appear again as if by magic; turtle, 
 cold-blooded by nature, has become hot as Sir Charles 
 Wetherell, and certainly never moved so rapidly be- 
 fore. The flight of ham and turkey is unceasing: ve- 
 nison bounds from one end of the table to the other, 
 with a velocity never exceeded in its native forest; and . 
 the energies of twenty human beings are all evidently 
 concentrated in one common occupation. 
 
 During soup and fish, and, perhaps, the first slice of 
 the haunch, conversation languishes, but a glass or two 
 of Champagne soon operates as a corrective. The eyes 
 of the young ladies become more brilliant, and those of 
 elderly gentlemen acquire a certain benevolent twinkle, 
 which indicates, that for the time being they are in 
 charity with themselves and all mankind. 
 
 At length, the first course is removed, and is suc- 
 ceeded by a whole wilderness of sweets. This, too, 
 passes, for it is impossible, alas! to eat for ever. Then 
 come cheese and the dessert; then the departure of the 
 ladies; and claret and Madeira for an hour or twain are 
 unquestioned lords of the ascendant. 
 
 The latter is almost uniformly excellent. I have 
 never drank any Madeira in Europe at all equalling 
 what I have frequently met in the United States. 
 Gourmets attribute this superiority partly to climate, 
 but in a great measure to management. Madeira, in 
 this country, is never kept as with us, in a subterranean 
 vault, where the temperature throughout the year is 
 nearly equal. It is placed in the attics, where it is ex- 
 posed to the whole fervour of the summer's heat, and 
 the severity of winter's cold. The .effect on the fla- 
 vour of the wine is certainly remarkable. 
 
 The Claret is generally good, but not better than in 
 England; Port is used by the natives only as a medi- 
 cine, and is rarely produced at table except in compli- 
 ment to some English stranger, it being a settled canon, 
 here as elsewhere, that every Englishman drinks Port. 
 I have never yet seen fine Sherry, probably because 
 that wine has not yet risen into esteem in the United 
 States.
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON MANNERS. *j\ 
 
 The gentlemen in America pique themselves on 
 their discrimination in wine, in a degree which is not 
 common in England. The ladies have no sooner risen 
 from the table, tl\an the business of wine-bibbing com- 
 mences in good earnest. The servants still remain in 
 the apartment, and supply fresh glasses to the guests 
 as the successive bottles make their appearance. To 
 each of these a history is attached, and the vintage, the 
 date of importation, &c., are all duly detailed; then 
 come the criticisms of the company, and as each bot- 
 tle produced contains wine of a different quality from 
 its predecessor, there is no chance of the topic being 
 exhausted. At length, having made the complete 
 tour of the cellar, proceeding progressively from the 
 commoner wines to those of finest flavour, the party 
 adjourns to the drawing-room, and, after coffee, each 
 guest takes his departure without ceremony of any 
 kind. 
 
 It would be most ungrateful were I not to declare, 
 that I have frequently found these dinner parties ex- 
 tremely pleasant. I admit that there is a plainness and 
 even bluntness in American manners, somewhat start- 
 ling at first to & sophisticated European. Questions 
 are asked with regard to one's habits, family, pursuits, 
 connexions, and opinions, which are never put in Eng- 
 land, except in a witness box, after the ceremony of 
 swearing on the four Evangelists. But this is done 
 with the most perfect bohomie, and evidently without 
 the smallest conception, that such examination can pos- 
 sibly be offensive to the patient. It is scarcely fair to 
 judge one nation by the conventional standard of ano- 
 ther; and travellers who are tolerant enough of the pe- 
 culiarities of their continental neighbours, ought in 
 justice, perhaps, to make more allowance than they 
 have yet done, for those of Brother Jonathan. Such 
 questions, no doubt, would be sheer impertinence in 
 an Englishman, because, in putting them, he could not 
 but be aware, that he was violating the established 
 courtesies of society. They are not so in an American, 
 because he has been brought up with different ideas, 
 and under a social regime more tolerant of individual 
 curiosity, than is held in Europe to be compatible with
 
 72 OBSERVATIONS ON MANNERS. 
 
 good manners. Yet, after all, it must be owned, that 
 it is not always pleasant, to feel yourself the object of 
 a scrutiny, often somewhat coarsely conducted, and 
 generally too apparent to be mistaken. I do assert, 
 however, that in no other country I have ever visited, 
 are the charities of life so readily and so profusely 
 opened to a stranger as in the United States. In no 
 other country will he receive attentions so perfectly 
 disinterested and benevolent; and in none, when he 
 seeks acquaintances, is it so probable that he will find 
 friends. 
 
 It has been often said, indeed said so often as to 
 have passed into a popular apophthegm, that a strong 
 prejudice against Englishmen exists in America. 
 Looking back on the whole course of my experience 
 in that country, I now declare, that no assertion more 
 utterly adverse to truth, was ever palmed by prejudice 
 or ignorance, on vulgar credulity. That a prejudice 
 exists, I admit, but instead of being against English- 
 men, as compared with the natives of other countries, 
 it is a prejudice in their favour. The Americans do 
 not weigh the merits of their foreign visiters in an 
 equal balance. They are only too apt to throw their 
 own partialities into the scale of the Englishman, and 
 give it a preponderance to which the claims of the in- 
 dividual have probably no pretensions. 
 
 I beg, however, to be understood. Of the vast mul- 
 titude of English whom the extensive commercial in- 
 tercourse between the countries draws to the United 
 States, few, indeed, are persons of liberal acquirement, 
 or who have been accustomed to mix in good society in 
 their own country. Coming to the United States on 
 the pursuits of business, they are, of course, left to the 
 attentions of those gentlemen with whom their profes- 
 sional relations bring them more particularly in con- 
 tact. Admitting, for argument's sake, that all those 
 persons were entirely unexceptionable both in manners 
 and morals, their mere number, which is very great, 
 would, in itself, operate as an exclusion. That they 
 are hospitably received, I have no doubt, nor have I 
 any that they meet with every attention and facility 
 which commercial men can expect in a commercial 
 community.
 
 FEELING TOWARDS THE ENGLISH. 73 
 
 But when an English gentleman, actuated by mo- 
 tives of liberal curiosity, visits their country, he is re- 
 ceived in a different manner, and with very different 
 feeling. Once assured of his respectability, he is ad- 
 mitted freely into society, and I again assert, that he 
 will meet a benevolent interest in promoting his views, 
 which a traveller may in vain look for in other coun- 
 tries. I should be wrong in saying, however, that all 
 this takes place without some scrutiny. Of whatever 
 solecisms of deportment they are themselves guilty, the 
 Americans are admirable, and, perhaps, not very le- 
 nient judges of manners in others. They are quite 
 aware of high breeding when they see it, and draw 
 conclusions with regard to the pretensions of their 
 guests from a thousand small circumstances, apparent 
 only to very acute observation. With them, vulgar 
 audacity will not pass for polished ease; nor will fa- 
 shionable exterior be received for more than it is worth. 
 I know of no country in which an impostor would have 
 a more difficult game to play in the prosecution of his 
 craft, and should consider him an accomplished de- 
 ceiver, were he able to escape detection amid observa- 
 tion so vigilant and acute. 
 
 In admitting that the standard of manners in the 
 United States is somewhat lower than in England, I 
 wish to be understood as speaking exclusively of the 
 higher circles in the latter country. I am not aware, 
 that bating a few peculiarities, the manners of the 
 first-rate merchants of New York, are at all inferior 
 to those either of Liverpool or any other of our great 
 commercial cities. I am certain that they are not in- 
 ferior to any merchants in the world, in extent of prac- 
 tical information, in liberality of sentiment, and gene- 
 rosity of character. Most of them have been in Eng- 
 land, and from actual observation have formed notions 
 of our national character and advantages, very diffe- 
 rent from the crude and ignorant opinions, which, I 
 must say, are entertained by the great body of their 
 countrymen. Were it admissible to form general con- 
 clusions of the American character, from that of the 
 best circle in the greater Atlantic cities of the Union, 
 the estimate would be high indeed. 
 
 10
 
 54 MORALS OF THE TRADERS. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, the conclusions drawn from 
 premises so narrow, would be sadly erroneous. The 
 observations already made are applicable only to a 
 very small portion of the population, composed almost 
 entirely of the first-rate merchants and lawyers. Be- 
 yond that, there is a sad change for the worse. Nei- 
 ther in the manners nor in the morals of the great 
 body of traders, is there much to draw approbation 
 from an impartial observer. Comparing them with the 
 same classes in England, one cannot but be struck with 
 a certain resolute and obtrusive cupidity of gain, and 
 a laxity of principle as to the means of acquiring it,* 
 Which I should be sorry to believe formed any part of 
 the character of my countrymen. I have heard con- 
 duct praised in conversation at a public table, which, 
 in England, would be attended, if not with a voyage 
 to Botany Bay, at least with total loss of character. It 
 is impossible to pass an hour in the bar of the hotel, 
 without being struck with the tone of callous selfish- 
 ness which pervades the conversation, and the absence 
 of all pretension to pure and lofty principle. The only 
 restraint upon these men is the law, and he is evident- 
 ly considered the most skilful in his vocation who con- 
 trives to overreach his neighbour, without incurring its 
 penalties. 
 
 It may probably be urged, that, in drawing these 
 harsh conclusions, I judge ignorantly, since, having no 
 professional connexion with trade or traders, I cannot 
 be supposed to know from experience any thing of the 
 actual character of their commercial transactions. To 
 this, I reply, that my judgment has been formed on 
 much higher grounds than the experience of any indi- 
 vidual could possibly afford. If I am cheated in an af- 
 fair of business, I can appeal but to a single case of 
 fraud. I can only assert that a circumstance has hap- 
 pened in America, which might have happened in any 
 country of Europe. But, when a man publicly con- 
 fesses an act of fraud, or applauds it in another, two 
 conclusions are fairly deducible. First, that the nar- 
 rator is a person of little principle; and, second, that 
 he believes his audience to be no better than himself. 
 Assuredly, no man will confess any thing which he ima-
 
 MOKALS OF THE TRADERS. 75 
 
 gines may, by possibility, expose him to contempt ; and 
 the legitimate deduction from such details extends, not 
 only to the narrator of the anecdote, but to the com- 
 pany who received it without sign of moral indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 It may be well, however, to explain, that the pre- 
 ceding observations have not been founded exclusively on 
 the population of New York. The company in a ho- 
 tel, is generally composed of persons from all States in 
 the Union ; and it may be, that the standard of probity 
 is somewhat higher in this opulent and commercial city, 
 than in the poorer and more remote settlements. For 
 the last three weeks I have been daily thrown into the 
 company of about one hundred individuals, fortuitously 
 collected. A considerable portion of these are daily 
 changing, and it is perhaps not too much to assume 
 that, as a whole, they afford a fair average specimen 
 of their class. Without, therefore, wishing to lead the 
 reader to any hasty or exaggerated conclusion, I must, 
 in candour, state, that the result of my observations has 
 been to lower considerably the high estimate I had 
 formed of the moral character of the American people. 
 
 Though I have\mquestionably met in New York with 
 many most intelligent and accomplished gentlemen, still, 
 I think the fact cannot be denied, that the average of 
 acquirement resulting from education is a good deal 
 lower in this country than in the better circles of Eng- 
 land. In all the knowledge which must be taught, and 
 which requires laborious study for its attainment, I 
 should say the Americans are considerably inferior to 
 my countrymen. In that knowledge, on the other hand, 
 which the individual acquires for himself by actual ob- 
 servation, which bears an immediate marketable value, 
 and is directly available in the ordinary avocations of 
 life, I do not imagine the Americans are excelled by any 
 people in the world. They are, consequently, better 
 fitted for analytic than synthetic reasoning. In the 
 former process they are frequently successful. In the 
 latter, their failure sometimes approaches to the lu- 
 dicrous. 
 
 Another result of this condition of intelligence is, that 
 the tone even of the best conversation is pitched in 3
 
 76 HEREDITARY OPINIONS. 
 
 lower key than in England. The speakers evidently 
 presume on an inferior degree of acquirement in their 
 audience, and, frequently, deem it necessary to advance 
 deliberate proof of matters, which, in the old country, 
 would be taken for granted. There is certainly less of 
 what may be called floating intellect in conversation. 
 First principles are laboriously established, and long 
 trains of reasoning terminate, not in paradox, but in 
 common-place. In short, whatever it is the obvious and 
 immediate interest of Americans to know, is fully un- 
 derstood. Whatever is available, rather in the general 
 elevation of the intellect, than in the promotion of indi- 
 vidual ambition, engrosses but a small share of the pub- 
 lic attention. 
 
 In the United States one is struck with the fact, that 
 there exist certain doctrines and opinions which have 
 descended like heir-looms from generation to generation, 
 and seem to form the subject of a sort of national entail, 
 most felicitously contrived to check the natural tendency 
 to intellectual advancement in the inheritors. The sons 
 succeed to these opinions of their father, precisely as 
 they do to his silver salvers, or gold-headed cane ; and 
 thus do certain dogmas, political and religious, gradually 
 acquire a sort of prescriptive authority, and continue to 
 be handed down, unsubjected to the test of philosophi- 
 cal examination. It is at least partially attributable 
 to this cause, that the Americans are given to deal 
 somewhat too extensively in broad and sweeping aphor- 
 isms. The most difficult problems of legislation are here 
 treated as matters on which it were an insult on the 
 understanding of a school-boy, to suppose that he could 
 entertain a doubt. Inquire their reasons for the inbred 
 faith, of which they are the dark, though vehement 
 apostles, and you get nothing but a few shallow truisms, 
 which absolutely afibrd no footing for the conclusions 
 they are brought forward to establish. The Americans 
 seem so imagine themselves imbued with the power of 
 feeling truth, or, rather, of getting at it by intuition, for 
 by no other process can I yet discover that they attempt 
 its attainment. With the commoner and more vulgar 
 truths, indeed, 1 should almost pronounce them too 
 plentifully stocked, since in these, they seem to imagine,
 
 EMBARK FOR PROVIDENCE. 77 
 
 is contained the whole valuable essence of human know- 
 ledge. It is unquestionable, that this character of mind 
 is most unfavourable to national advancement; yet it is 
 too prominent not to find a place among the features 
 which distinguish the American intellect from that of 
 any other people with whom it has been my fortune to 
 become acquainted. 
 
 To-morrow it is my intention to proceed to Boston : I 
 shall leave the public establishments, &c. of New York 
 unvisited till my return ; being anxious, during the first 
 period of my residence, to confine my attention to the 
 more prominent and general features which distinguish 
 this interesting community. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 VOYAGE PROVIDENCE BOSTON. 
 
 N 
 
 AT four o'clock, p. M. on the 8th of December, I 
 embarked on board the steam-boat Chancellor Living- 
 ston, and, in a few minutes, the vessel was under 
 weigh. Her course lay up the East river, and along 
 the channel which divides Long Island from the main- 
 land. I had heard much of a certain dangerous strait, 
 called Hell Gate, formed by the projection of huge 
 masses of rock, which obstruct the passage of the ri- 
 ver, and diverting the natural course of the current, 
 send its waters spinning round in formidable eddies 
 and whirlpools. At high water as it happened to be 
 when we passed it this said portal had no very fright- 
 ful aspect. The stream was rapid, to be sure, but a 
 double engine of ninety horse power was more than a 
 match for it; and the Chancellor, in spite of its terrors, 
 held on its course rejoicing, with little apparent dimi- 
 nution of velocity. Vessels, however, have been 
 wrecked here, and a canal is spoken of, by which its 
 dangers may be avoided. 
 
 The accommodations on board were such, as to leave
 
 78 VOYAGE TO PROVIDENCE. 
 
 the most querulous traveller, no excuse for grumbling. 
 The cabin, to be sure, with two huge red-hot stoves in 
 it, was of a temperature which a salamander must 
 have admired exceedingly, but the atmosphere, com- 
 posed of the discarded breath of about a hundred pas- 
 sengers, still retained a sufficient portion of oxygen to 
 support life. The hour of tea came, and all the appe- 
 tite on board was mustered on the occasion. The meal 
 passed speedily as heart could desire; but the mingled 
 odour of fish, onions, and grease, was somewhat more 
 permanent. Whether it improved the atmosphere, or 
 not, is a point which I could not settle to my own satis- 
 faction at the time, and must now, I fear, remain for 
 ever undecided. 
 
 It was impossible, in such circumstances, to think of 
 bed. The very thought of blankets was distressing. I 
 had no book; and as for conversation, I could hear none 
 in which I was at all qualified to bear a part. I there- 
 fore ordered my writing-box, adjusted a new Bramah, 
 and of the words that flowed from it, he that has read 
 the preceding pages is already in possession. 
 
 If I wrote in bad humour there was really some 'ex- 
 cuse for it. Close to my right were two loud polemics, 
 engaged in fierce dispute on the Tariff bill. On my 
 left- was an elderly gentleman, without shoes or slippers, 
 whose cough and expectoration were somewhat less 
 melodious than the music of the spheres. In the berth 
 immediately behind, lay a passenger, whose loud snoring 
 proclaimed him as happy as a complete oblivion of all 
 worldly cares could make him. Right opposite was a 
 gentleman without breeches, who, before jumping into 
 bed, was detailing to a friend the particulars of a lucky 
 bit he had just made in a speculation in train oil. And 
 beside me, at the table, sat a Baptist clergyman, read- 
 ing, sotto vo.ce, a chapter of Ezekiel, and casting, at the 
 conclusion of each verse, a glance of furtive curiosity 
 at my paper. 
 
 It may be admitted, that such are not the items which 
 go to the compounding of a paradise. But the enjoy- 
 ment of travelling, like other pleasures, must be pur- 
 chased at some little expense; and he whose good-hu- 
 nour can be ruffled by every petty inconvenience he
 
 IRISH STEWARD. 79 
 
 may chance to encounter, had unquestionably better 
 remain at home. For myself, I beg it therefore to be 
 understood, that in detailing the petty and transient an- 
 noyances connected with my journey, I do so, not as 
 matters by which my tranquillity was materially affect- 
 ed, but as delineations naturally belonging to a picture 
 of Society, and without which it would be incomplete. 
 A tourist in the United States, will find no occasion for 
 the ardour, the perseverance, or the iron constitution of 
 a Lander; and yet he will do well to remember, that 
 travellers, like players at bowls, must occasionally ex- 
 pect rubbers. 
 
 But I have dwelt too much on the disagreeables of 
 the voyage, without giving the per contra side of the ac- 
 count. There was a fair breeze and a smooth sea; and 
 an Irish steward, who was particularly active in my 
 behalf, and made my berth very comfortable, by the 
 fraudulent abstraction of sundry pillows from those of 
 my American neighbours. This he has done he told 
 my servant so because I am from the old country; and 
 yet one would suppose, that on such a .man the claim 
 of mere national affinity could have little influence. I 
 talked a good deal with him about his former circum- 
 stances, and soon collected, that what is called living in 
 Ireland, is usually entitled starving in other countries. 
 Though rather chary of confession, I gathered, too, that 
 the world was not his friend, nor the world's laws, and 
 that he came to the United States to avoid a jail, and 
 without a shilling in his pocket. The day on which he 
 left Ireland should be marked in his annals with a white 
 stone. He now enjoys a comfortable situation con- 
 fesses he can save money; eats and drinks well; is en- 
 cased in warm clothing ; is troubled very little with the 
 tax-gatherer, and not at all with the tithe-proctor. 
 And what is there in the countenance of an English- 
 man, that it should excite in such a man the feeling of 
 benevolence and kindred ? In his memory, one would 
 suppose, the past would be linked only with suffering, 
 while the present is undoubtedly associated with the 
 experience of a thousand comforts, to which, in his days 
 of vassalage and white-boyism, his imagination never 
 ventured to soar. Yet, believe the man, and he regrets
 
 80 ARRIVAL AT PROVIDENCE. 
 
 having left home ! He thinks he could have done as 
 well in Ireland. He has no fault to find with America 
 it is a good country, enough for a poor man. Whis- 
 key is cheaper here, and so is bread and mate ; but 
 then his ould mother, and his sisters, and Tim Regan, 
 he would like to see them again ; and, please God, if he 
 ever can afford it, he will return, and have his bones 
 laid in the same church-yard with theirs. 
 
 But if Pat ever get back to Ireland, I venture to pro- 
 phesy that his stay will not be long there. At present, 
 his former privations are more than half- forgotten; but 
 let him once again encounter them, and the difference 
 between the country of his birth and that of his adop- 
 tion, will become more apparent than argument could 
 now make it. On the whole, it was pleasing to observe, 
 that while time and distance obliterate the misfortunes 
 of life, their tendency is to strengthen its charities. 
 
 On the following morning, about eleven o'clock, we 
 reached Providence, and found eight or ten stage- 
 coaches waiting on the quay to convey the passengers 
 to Boston. Though I carried letters of introduction to 
 several gentleman in Providence, it had not been my 
 intention to remain there, and I had accordingly, before 
 landing, secured places in one of these vehicles. But 
 in the hurry and bustle of scrambling for seats and 
 coaches, and with the sight of eight large human beings 
 already cooped up in that by which I must have tra- 
 velled, I began to waver in my resolution, and at length 
 resolved to sacrifice the money 1 had paid, and take the 
 chances of better accommodation, and a more agreea- 
 ble party, on the day following. Besides, the weather 
 was raw and gusty, and I had been drenched from the 
 knee downward in wading through the masses of half- 
 melted snow, which covered the landing-place. The 
 idea, therefore, of a comfortable Providence hotel, na- 
 turally found more favour in my imagination, than an 
 eight hours' journey to Boston, in such weather, such 
 company, and such conveyance as I could reasonably 
 anticipate. 
 
 On reaching the hostelry, however, its external ap- 
 pearance was far from captivating. There was no 
 sign-board, nor did the house display any external sym-
 
 APPEARANCE OF THE TOWN. 81 
 
 bol of the hospitality within. Below was a range of 
 shops, and the only approach was by a narrow stair, 
 which might have passed for clean in Rome, but would 
 have been considered dirty in England. On entering, 
 I stood for some time in the passage, and though [ in- 
 quired at several members of the establishment, who 
 brushed past me, whether I could have accommodation, 
 no answer was vouchsafed. At length, advancing to 
 the bar, I observed the landlord, who' was evidently too 
 busily engaged in mixing brandy and water for a party 
 of smokers, to have any attention to bestow on a stranger 
 like myself. I therefore, addressed a woman whom I 
 observed to look towards me with something of cold in- 
 quiry in her expression, and again begged to know whe- 
 ther I could be accommodated for the night. The ques j 
 tion was not more fortunate than its predecessors in 
 drawing forth a response, nor was it till some minutes 
 had elapsed, that, during a fortunate intermission of 
 the demand for spirits, my inquiries were at length at- 
 tended to, and satisfactorily answered. Matters now 
 went on more promisingly. I found that I could not 
 only be supplied, with every thing within the scope of 
 reasonable expectation, but with a luxury I had not 
 ventured to anticipate,- a private parlour, communi- 
 cating with a very comfortable bed-room, and accom- 
 panied with the privilege of commanding my own 
 hours. 
 
 Having changed my dress, and given a few directions 
 about dinner, I sallied forth to view the city. Provi- 
 dence is the capital of the State of Rhode Island, and 
 contains about 25,000 inhabitants. It stands at the foot 
 and on the brow of a hill, which commands a complete 
 view of the fine bay. The great majority of the houses 
 are built of wood, interspersed, however, with tene- 
 ments of brick, and a few which are at least fronted 
 with stone. It contains considerable cotton manufacto- 
 ries, whichboasting no knowledge of such matters 
 I was not tempted to visit. The college appears a 
 building of some extent, and is finely situated on the 
 summit of a neighbouring height. The roads were sa 
 obstructed by snow, as to render climbing the ascent a 
 matter of more difficulty than I was in the humour to 
 
 11
 
 82 BUILDINGS IN PROVIDENCE. 
 
 encounter; and so it was decreed, that Brown's College 
 should remain by me unvisited. 
 
 The first settlement of Providence is connected with 
 a melancholy instance of human inconsistency. The 
 Pilgrim Fathers, as they are called, had left their coun- 
 try to find in the wilds of the New World that religious 
 toleration which had been denied them in the Old. But 
 no sooner had these victims of persecution established 
 themselves in New England, than, in direct and flagrant 
 violation, not only of all moral consistency, but of the 
 whole scope and spirit of the Christian religion, they 
 became persecutors in their turn. Socinians and Qua- 
 kers all, in short, who differed from them in opinion, 
 were driven forth with outrage and violence. Among 
 the number was Roger Williams, a Puritan clergyman, 
 who ventured to expose what he considered " evidence 
 of backsliding " in the churches of Massachusetts. The 
 clergy at first endeavoured to put him down by argu- 
 ment and remonstrance ; the attempt failed, and it was 
 then determined that the civil authority should free the 
 orthodox population from the dangerous presence of so 
 able and sturdy a polemic. Roger Williams was ba- 
 nished, and, followed by a few of his people, continued 
 to wander in the wilderness, till, coming to a place 
 called by the Indians Mooshausic, he there pitched his 
 tabernacle, and named it Providence. 
 
 Such are a few of the circumstances connected with 
 the first establishment of the State of Rhode Island. The 
 light in which they exhibit human nature is not flatter- 
 ing ; yet they only afford another proof, if such were 
 wanted, of the natural connexion between bigotry and 
 persecution, and that the victims of political or religious 
 oppression, too often want only the power to become its 
 ministers. 
 
 The only building which makes any pretension to ar- 
 chitectural display is the arcade, faced at either extre- 
 mity with an Ionic portico. Judging by the eye, the 
 shaft of the columns is in the proportion of the Grecian 
 Doric, an order beautiful in itself, but which, of course, 
 is utterly barbarized by an Ionic entablature. By the 
 way, I know not any thing in which the absence of 
 taste in America is more signally displayed than in their
 
 RAISING A HOUSE. 83 
 
 architecture. The country residences of the wealthier 
 citizens are generally adorned with pillars, which often 
 extend from the basement to the very top of the house, 
 (some three or four stories,) supporting, and pretending 
 to support, nothing. The consequence is, that the pro- 
 portions of these columns are very much those of the 
 stock of a tobacco-pipe, and it is difficult to conceive 
 any thing more unsightly. Even in the public buildings, 
 there is often an obtrusive disregard of every recognised 
 principle of proportion, and clamorous demands are 
 made on the admiration of foreigners, in behalf of build- 
 ings which it is impossible to look upon without instant 
 and unhesitating condemnation. 
 
 In a sea-port one generally takes a glance at the 
 harbour, to draw some conclusions, however uncertain, 
 with regard to the traffic of the place. The guide- 
 books declare, that Providence has a good deal of fo- 
 reign commerce. It may be so, but in the bay I could 
 only count two square-rigged vessels, and something 
 under a score of sloops and schooners. 
 
 I must not forget to mention, having witnessed to-day 
 the progress of an operation somewhat singular in cha- 
 racter. This was nothing less than raising a large tene- 
 ment, for the purpose of introducing another story below. 
 The building was of frame-work, with chimneys of 
 brick, and consisted of two houses connected by the ga- 
 ble. The lower part of one was occupied as a ware- 
 house, which seemed well filled with casks and cotton- 
 bags. I stood for some time to observe the progress of 
 the work. The process adopted was this : The building 
 was first raised by means of a succession of wedges in- 
 serted below the foundation. Having thus gained the 
 requisite elevation, it was maintained there by supports 
 at each corner, and by means of screws pressing laterally 
 on the timbers. At the time I saw it, the building had 
 been raised about five feet into the air, and the only 
 mode of ingress or egress was by ladders. On looking 
 with some curiosity at the windows, I soon gathered 
 enough to convince me that the inhabitants were en- 
 gaged in their usual domestic a vocations, without being at 
 all disturbed by their novel position in the atmosphere. 
 As for the ware-house, the business of buying and selling 
 had apparently encountered no interruption. On the
 
 84 DINNER AT THE HOTEL. 
 
 whole, the operation, though simple, struck me as dis- 
 playing a very considerable degree of mechanical inge- 
 nuity. 
 
 Having finished my ramble, I returned to the inn; 
 where a very tolerable dinner awaited my appearance. 
 It was the first time I had dined alone since leaving 
 England, and, like my countrymen generally, I am 
 disposed to attach considerable importance to the pri- 
 vilege of choosing my dinner, and the hour of eating 
 it. It is only when alone that one enjoys the satisfac- 
 tion of feeling that he is a distinct unit in creation, a 
 being totus, teres, atque rotundus. At a public or- 
 dinary, he is but a fraction, a decimal, at most, but, 
 very probably, a centesimal of a huge masticating mon- 
 ster, with the appetite of a Mastedon or a Behemoth. 
 He labours under the conviction, that his meal has lost 
 in dignity what it has gained in profusion. He is con- 
 torted involuntarily with people to whom he is bound 
 by no tie but that of temporary necessity, and, with 
 whom, except the immediate impulse of brutal appe- 
 tite, he has probably nothing in common. A man, 
 like an American, thus diurnally mortified and abased 
 from his youth upwards, of course knows nothing of 
 the high thoughts which visit the imagination of the 
 solitary, who, having finished a good dinner, reposes 
 with a full consciousness of the dignity of his nature, 
 and the high destinies to which he is called. The si- 
 tuation is one which naturally stimulates the whole 
 inert mass of his speculative benevolence. He is at 
 peace with all mankind, for he reclines on a well- 
 stuffed sofa, and there are wine and walnuts on the ta- 
 ble. He is on the best terms with himself, and recalls 
 his own achievements in arms, literature, or philoso- 
 phy, in a spirit of the most benign complacency. If 
 he look to the future, the prospect is bright and un- 
 clouded. If he revert to the past, its lt written trou- 
 bles," its failures and misfortunes are erased from the 
 volume, and^his memories are exclusively those of gra- 
 tified power. He is in his slippers, and comfortable 
 robe-de-chetmbre, and what to him, at such a moment, 
 are the world and its ambitions? I appeal to the phi- 
 losopher, and he answers Nothing! 
 
 It was in such condition of enjoyment, physical an.d
 
 RENCONTRE WITH CAPTAIN BENNET. 5 
 
 intellectual, that I was interrupted by the entrance of 
 my servant, to inform me that he had just met Captain 
 Bennet on the stair, who, learning that I was at din- 
 ner, had obligingly expressed his intention of favour- 
 ing me with a visit at the conclusion of my meal. I 
 immediately returned assurance, that nothing could af- 
 ford me greater pleasure; and in a few minutes I had 
 the satisfaction of exchanging a friendly grasp with 
 this kind and intelligent sailor. In the course of our 
 tete-&-tete, he informed me that he was travelling from 
 his native town, New Bedford, to Boston, in company 
 with Mrs. Bennet, to whom he was good enough to of- 
 fer me the privilege of an introduction. I accordingly ac- 
 companied the Captain to his apartment, where I passed 
 a pleasant evening, and retired, gratified by the intelli- 
 gence that they were to proceed on the following morn- 
 ing by the same vehicle in which I had already se- 
 cured places. To travel with Captain Bennet, was, in 
 truth, not only a pleasure, but an advantage, for, being 
 a New Englander, he was enabled, in the course of 
 -our journey, to communicate many particulars with re- 
 gard to his native province, which, though most useful 
 in directing the opinions of a traveller, could scarcely, 
 perhaps, have fallen within the immediate sphere of his 
 -observations. 
 
 On the following morning we were afoot betimes, 
 and, after a tolerable breakfast at a most unchristian 
 hour, left Providence at seven o'clock, and I enjoyed 
 
 my first introduction to an American stage-coach 
 
 Though what an Englishman accustomed to the luxu- 
 ries of " light-post coaches," and Macadamised roads, 
 might not unreasonably consider a wretched vehicle, 
 the one in question was not so utterly abominable as 
 to leave a Frenchman or an Italian any fair cause of 
 complaint. It was of ponderous proportions, built 
 with timbers, I should think, about the size of those 
 of an ordinary wagon, and was attached by enormous 
 straps to certain massive irons, which nothing in the 
 motion of the carriage could induce the traveller to 
 mistake for springs. The sides of this carriage were 
 simply curtains of leather, which, when the heat of the 
 weather is inconvenient, can be raised to admit a free
 
 86 JOURNEY TO BOSTON. 
 
 ventilation. In winter, however, the advantages of 
 this contrivance are more than apocryphal. The wind 
 penetrates through a hundred small crevices, and with 
 the thermometer below zero, this freedom of circulation 
 is found not to add materially to the pleasures of a 
 journey. The complement of passengers inside was 
 nine, divided into three rows, the middle seat being 
 furnished with a strap, removable at pleasure, as a 
 back support to the sitters. The driver also receives 
 a companion on the box, and the charge for this place 
 is the same as for those in the interior. The whole 
 machine, indeed, was exceedingly clumsy, yet, per- 
 haps, not more so, than was rendered necessary by the 
 barbarous condition of the road on which it travelled. 
 The horses, though not handsome, were strong, and, 
 apparently, well adapted for their work, yet I could 
 not help smiling, as I thought of the impression the 
 whole set out would be likely to produce on an Eng- 
 lish road. The flight of an air balloon would create 
 far less sensation. If exhibited as a specimen of a fos- 
 sil carriage, buried since the Deluge, and lately disco- 
 vered by Professor Buckland, it might pass without 
 question as the family-coach in which Noah conveyed 
 his establishment to the ark. Then the Jehu! A man 
 in rusty black, with the -appearance of a retired grave- 
 digger. Never was such a coachman seen within the 
 limits of the four seas. 
 
 Though the distance is only forty miles, we were 
 eight hours in getting to Boston. The road I remem- 
 ber to have set down at the time as the very worst in 
 the world, an opinion, which my subsequent experi- 
 ence as a traveller in the United States, has long since 
 induced me to retract. It abounded in deep ruts, and 
 huge stones, which a little exercise of the hammer 
 might have converted into excellent material. Eng- 
 lish readers may smile when one talks seriously of the 
 punishment of being jolted in a stage-coach, but to ar- 
 rive at the end of a journey with bruised flesh and 
 aching bones, is, on the whole, not particularly plea- 
 sant. For myself, I can truly say, that, remembering 
 all I have occasionally endured in the matter of loco- 
 motion on the American continent, the martyr to simi-
 
 PAWTUCKET. 87 
 
 lar sufferings shall always enjoy my sincere sympathy. 
 On the present occasion, to say nothing of lateral con- 
 cussion, twenty times at least was I pitched up with 
 violence against the roof of the coach, which, being as 
 ill provided with stuffing as the cushions below, occa- 
 sioned a few changes in my phrenological develop- 
 ments. One of the passengers, however, a grave va- 
 letudinarian assured me, that such unpleasant exercise 
 was an admirable cure for dyspepsia, and that when 
 suffering under its attacks, he found an unfailing reme- 
 dy in being jolted over some forty or fifty miles of 
 such roads as that we now travelled. At the moment, 
 I certainly felt more inclined to pity him for the reme- 
 dy than the disease. 
 
 There had been thaw during the night, and the 
 greater part of the snow had disappeared. The coun- 
 try through which we passed was prettily varied in 
 surface, but the soil was poor and stony, and the ex- 
 tent to which wood had been suffered to grow on land 
 formerly subjected to the plough, showed it had not 
 been found to repay the cost of tillage. About four 
 miles from Providence, we passed the village of Paw- 
 tucket It is one of the chief seats of the cotton manu- 
 facture in the United States. The aspect of the place 
 was not unpleasing, and I counted about a dozen fac- 
 tories of considerable size. The houses of the work- 
 men had a clean and comfortable appearance. I was 
 informed, however, by my fellow travellers, that, with- 
 in the last eighteen months, every establishment in the 
 place had become bankrupt; a proof, 1 should imagine, 
 that the success of the Tariff system has not been very 
 brilliant. 
 
 During our journey, there was a good deal of con- 
 versation in the coach, in which, I was physically too 
 uneasy to bear any considerable part. I was amused, 
 however, at the astonishment of a young Connecticut 
 farmer, when Captain Bennet informed him, that, in 
 England, the white birch-tree which, in this part of 
 the world, is regarded as a noxious weed is protect- 
 ed in artificial plantations with great care. He was- 
 evidently incredulous, though he had before made no 
 difficulty in believing the numerous absurdities, in law.
 
 88 ARRIVAL AT BOSTON. 
 
 polity, and manners attributed, whether with truth or 
 otherwise, to my countrymen. But to plant the white 
 birch-tree! This, indeed, was beyond the limits of 
 belief. 
 
 The road, as we approached Boston, lay through a 
 more populous country, and we passed a height, which 
 commanded a fine view of the bay. At length, enter- 
 ing on a long street, I found myself again surrounded 
 by the busy hum of a great city. The first impression 
 was decidedly favourable. There is in Boston less of 
 that rawness of outline, and inconsistency of architec- 
 ture, which had struck me in New York- The truth 
 is, that the latter has increased so rapidly, that nine- 
 tenths of the city have been built within the last thir- 
 ty years, and probably one half of it within a third of 
 the period. In Boston, both wealth and population 
 have advanced at a slower pace. A comparatively 
 small portion of the city is new, and the hand of time 
 has somewhat mellowed even its deformities, contri- 
 buting to render that reverend, which was originally 
 rude. 
 
 There is an air of gravity and solidity about Boston; 
 and nothing gay or flashy, in the appearance of her 
 streets, or the crowd who frequent them. New York 
 is a young giantess, weighing twenty stone, and yet 
 frisky wilhaL Boston, the matron of stayed and demure 
 air, a little past her prime, perhaps, yet showing no 
 symptom of decay. The former is brisk, bustling, and 
 annually outgrowing her petticoats. The latter fat, 
 fair, and forty, a great breeder, but turning her chil- 
 dren out of doors, as fast as she produces them. But it 
 is an old and true apophthegm, that similes seldom run 
 on all fours, and therefore it is generally prudent not 
 to push them too far. 
 
 Most gratifying is it to a traveller in the United 
 States, when, sick to death of the discomforts of the 
 road, he finds himself fairly housed in the Tremont 
 Hotel. The establishment is on a large scale, and ad- 
 mirably conducted. I had no difficulty in procuring a 
 small but very comfortable suite of apartments, deficient 
 in nothing which a single gentleman could require. 
 What is more, I enjoyed the blessing of rational liberty
 
 SLAVERY OF AMERICANS. 9 
 
 had command of my own hours and motions, in short, 
 could eat, drink, or sleep, at what time, in what man- 
 ner, and on what substances I might prefer. 
 
 The truth is, that instead of being free, a large pro- 
 portion of the American people live in a state of the 
 most degrading bondage. No liberty of tongue can com- 
 pensate for vassalage of stomach. In their own houses, 
 perhaps, they may do as they please, though I much 
 doubt whether any servants would consent to live in a 
 family who adopted the barbarous innovation of dining 
 at six o'clock, and breakfasting at eleven. Bui on the 
 road, and in their hotels, they are assuredly any thing 
 but freemen. Their hours of rest and refection are 
 there dictated by Boniface, the most rigorous and iron- 
 hearted of despots. And surely never was monarch 
 blessed with more patient and obedient subjects ! He 
 feeds them in droves like cattle. He rings a bell, and 
 they come like dogs at their master's whistle. He 
 places before them what he thinks proper, and they 
 swallow it without grumbling. His decrees are as those 
 of fate, and the motto of his establishment is, " Submit 
 or starve." 
 
 No man should travel in the United 'States without 
 one of Baraud's best chronometers in his fob, In no other 
 country can a slight miscalculation of time be produc- 
 tive of so much mischief. Wo to him whose steps have 
 been delayed by pleasure or business, till the fatal hour 
 has elapsed, and the dinner-cloth been removed. If he 
 calculate on the emanation from the kitchen of smoking 
 chop or spatchcock, he will be grievously deceived. 
 Let him not look with contempt on half-coagulated 
 soup, or fragments of cold fish, or the rhomboid of 
 greasy pork, which has been reclaimed from the stock- 
 barrel for his behoof. Let him accept in meekness 
 what is set before him, or be content to go dinnerless 
 for the day. Such are the horns of the dilemma, and 
 he is free as air to choose on which he will be im- 
 paled.* 
 
 * It is fair, however, to state, that in the hotels in the greater ci- 
 ties, private apartments can generally be obtained. The charge for 
 these is about as high as in London, and the privilege of separate 
 meals is also to be paid for. To give the reader some idea of the 
 
 12
 
 90 THE STATE-HOUSE. 
 
 On the morning following my arrival, I despatched 
 my letters of introduction, and walked out to see the 
 city. Of its appearance, I have already said something, 
 but have yet a little more to say. Boston stands on an 
 undulating surface, and is surrounded on three sides by 
 the sea. The harbour is a magnificent basin, encircled 
 by a beautiful country, rising in gentle acclivities, and 
 studded with villas. There is nothing very -handsome 
 about the town, which is rather English in appearance, 
 and might in truth be easily mistaken for one of our 
 more populous sea-ports. A considerable number of the 
 buildings are of granite, or, more properly speaking, of 
 sienite, but brick is the prevailing material, and houses 
 of framework are now rarely to be met with in the 
 streets inhabited by the better orders. The streets are 
 narrow, and often crooked, yet, as already stated, they 
 exhibit more finish and cleanliness than are to be found 
 in New York. In architecture, 1 could discover little 
 to admire. The State-house stands on an eminence 
 commanding the city; it is a massive square building, 
 presenting in front a piazza of rusticated arches, sur- 
 mounted by a gratuitous range of Corinthian columns, 
 which support nothing. The building in front has a 
 small attic with a pediment, and from the centre rises 
 a dome, the summit of which is crowned by a square 
 lantern. 
 
 The Tremont hotel, and a church in the same street, 
 are likewise pointed out to strangers as worthy of alt 
 the spare admiration at their disposal. The latter is a 
 plain building, rather absurdly garnished, along its- 
 whole front, with a row of Ionic columns, stuck in close 
 
 expense of such mode of living in the United States, I may state, 
 that in New York, with nothing but an inferior bed-room, and living 
 at the public table, the charge for myself and servant was eighteen 
 dollars a-week. At Boston, with three excellent rooms, and the pri- 
 vilege of private meals, it amounted, including every thing except 
 wine, to thirty-five. At Philadelphia, I paid twenty-six dollars; at 
 Baltimore, twenty-eight; at Washington, forty; the extent of accom- 
 modation nearly equal in all. 
 
 It is the invariable custom in the United States, to charge by the 
 day or week; and travellers are thus obliged to pay for meals whether 
 they eat them or not. For a person, who, like myself, rarely dined at 
 home, I remember calculating the charge to be higher than in Long's, 
 or the Clarendon.
 
 KING'S CHAPEL. 91 
 
 to the wall, which they are far from concealing; and, 
 to increase the deformity, above these columns rises a 
 naked square tower, intended, I presume, for a belfry. 
 
 An anecdote connected with this place of worship, 
 however, is worth preserving : It was formerly called 
 the King's Chapel, and belonged to a congregation 
 holding the tenets of the Church of England. In this 
 state of things a rich old gentleman died, bequeathing, 
 by his last testament, a considerable sum, to be expend- 
 ed in defraying the charge of a certain number of an- 
 nual discourses " on the Trinity." The testator having 
 lived and died in the communion of the Church of Eng- 
 land, of course no doubt could be entertained of his in- 
 tention in the bequest ; but the revolution took place, 
 and, at the restoration of peace, the congregation of the 
 King's Chapel were found to have cast off both king 
 and creed, and become not only Republicans in politics, 
 but Unitarians in religion. Under these circumstances, 
 what was to be done with the legacy ? This did not 
 long remain a moot point. It was discovered that a 
 Unitarian could preach sermons on the Trinity as well 
 as the most orthodox Athanasian that ever mounted a 
 pulpit; and the effect of the testator's zeal for the dif- 
 fusion of pure faith, has been to encourage the dissemi- 
 nation of doctrines, which of course he regarded as false 
 and damnable ! The old gentleman had better left his 
 money to his relations. 
 
 I have been too well satisfied with the good living of 
 the Tremont hotel, not to feel grieved to be compelled 
 to speak disparagingly of its architecture. I beg to say, 
 however, that I allude to it only because I have heard 
 its construction gravely praised by men of talent and 
 intelligence, as one of the proudest achievements of 
 American genius. The edifice is of fine sienite, and I 
 imagine few parts of the world can supply a more beau- 
 tiful material for building. In front is a Doric portico 
 of four columns, accurately proportioned, but, as usual, 
 without pediment. These have not sufficient projection, 
 and seem as if they had been thrust back upon the walls 
 of the building by the force of some gigantic steam-en- 
 gine. The dining-hall, which is here the chief object 
 of admiration, is defective, both in point of taste and
 
 92 DIVINE SERVICE. 
 
 proportion. The ceiling, in the first place, is too low; 
 and then the ranges of Ionic columns, which extend the 
 whole length of the apartment, are mingled with Antae 
 of the Composite order ; thus defacing, by the intermix- 
 ture of a late Roman barbarism, the purer taste of 
 Greece, But it were mere waste of time and patience 
 to enlarge on such matters. 
 
 My letters of introduction soon fructified into a plen- 
 tiful harvest of visits and invitations. I discerned, or 
 thought I discerned, some difference of manner between 
 the gentlemen of Boston and those of New York. For 
 the first five minutes, perhaps, the former seemed less 
 pleasing, but my opinion in this respect soon changed, 
 and I certainly now class many of my Boston friends, 
 not only among the most liberal and enlightened, but 
 among the most agreeable men, I had the good fortune 
 to encounter in my tour. 
 
 My first visit was to a club, not professedly literary, 
 but which numbered among its members many of the 
 most eminent individuals of the State. Nothing could 
 .exceed the kindness of my reception. Several gentle- 
 men, on learning my objects in visiting their city, 
 obligingly professed their readiness to promote them by 
 every means in their power, and I soon found that hos- 
 pitality to strangers was by no means an exclusive at- 
 tribute of New York. 
 
 The day following being Sunday, I attended morn- 
 ing service in one of the Episcopal churches. It was 
 performed with great propriety to a congregation ge- 
 nerally composed of the better orders. In the evening 
 I accompanied an amiable family to a church, of which 
 the celebrated Dr. 'Channing is the pastor. The Doc- 
 tor, I learned, was then at Havannah, where he had 
 accompanied Mrs. Channing, whose health required a 
 milder winter climate than that of New England. 
 The tenets of the congregation are Unitarian, and the 
 service is that of the Church of England, with the 
 omission of all expressions which attribute divinity to 
 our Saviour. Yet this, if not asserted, is not denied. 
 It seems to have been the object to establish a service 
 in which all sects and classes of Christians may con- 
 scientiously join, arid which affirms nothing in regard
 
 UNITARIANISM. 93 
 
 to those points which afford matter of controversy to 
 theologians. 
 
 Though the intentions of the framers of this service 
 were obviously good, I am not sure that they have 
 been guided by very just or philosophical views of the 
 infirmities of human nature. The great benefit to be 
 derived from public worship, is connected with the 
 feeling of fellowship with" those by whom we are sur- 
 rounded, and that diffusive sentiment of charity and 
 brotherhood, arising from community of faith. In the 
 presence of God it is, indeed, proper that all minor dif- 
 ferences should be forgotten; but when these diffe- 
 rences extend beyond a certain limit, and embrace the 
 more sacred points of belief, I can understand no bene^ 
 fit which can arise from the common adoption of a li- 
 turgy so mutilated, as to exclude all expression of that 
 faith and those doctrines, which Christians in general 
 regard as the very keystone of their hope. The value 
 of prayer, perhaps, consists less in any influence it can 
 be supposed to have on the decrees of -an eternal and 
 immutable Being, than in that which it exercises over 
 the heart and feelings of the worshipper. To exert 
 this influence, it must be felt to be appropriate to our 
 individual wants and necessities. It must not deal in 
 vague generalities, nor petition only for those blessings 
 in which the great body of mankind possess an equal 
 interest. Like material objects, the human feelings 
 become uniformly weakened by extension. We can- 
 not pray for the whole of our species with the same 
 earnestness that we petition for the prosperity of our 
 country, and our supplications in behalf of our family 
 are yet more ardent. There is a gradation of fervour 
 for each link of the chain as it approaches nearer to 
 ourselves, and it is only, perhaps, in imploring mercy 
 for some one individual, that our feelings reach their 
 climax of intensity. I have no faith in the efficacy of 
 a system of devotion founded on the abstract princi- 
 ples of philosophy. The religious worship of mankind 
 must be accommodated to their infirmities. The 
 prayer which is adapted to all sects can evidently ex- 
 press the faith or sentiments of none. 
 
 The liturgy was plainly, but effectively, read by the
 
 94 UNITARIANISM. 
 
 Rev. Mr. Greenwood, whom I had the pleasure of rank- 
 ing among my acquaintance. The sermon was elegant, 
 Hut somewhat cold and unemphatic. Indeed, how could 
 it be otherwise? A Unitarian is necessarily cut off from 
 all appeals to those deeper sources of feeling, which, in 
 what is called Evangelical preaching, are found to pro- 
 duce such powerful effects. No spirit was ever strong- 
 ly moved by a discourse on the innate beauty of virtue, 
 or arguments in favour of moral purit}'-, drawn from 
 the harmony of the external world. The inference 
 that man should pray, because the trees blossom and 
 the birds sing, is about as little cogent in theory as the 
 experience of mankind has proved it in practice. The 
 sequitur would be quite as good, were it asserted that 
 men should wear spectacles because bears eat horse- 
 flesh, and ostriches lay eggs in the sand. But, admitting 
 the conclusion to be clear as the day-light, the disease of 
 human depravity is too strong to be overcome by the 
 administration of such gentle alteratives. Recourse 
 must be had to stronger medicines, and these, unfor- 
 tunately, the chest of the Unitarian does not furnish. 
 
 Boston is the metropolis of Unitarianism. In no 
 other city has it taken root so deeply, or spread its 
 branches so widely. Fully half of the population, and 
 more than half of the wealth and intelligence of Bos- 
 ton, are found in this communion. I was at one time 
 puzzled to account for this; but my journey to New 
 England has removed the difficulty. The New Eng- 
 landers are a cold, shrewd, calculating, and ingenious 
 people, of phlegmatic temperament, and perhaps have 
 in their composition less of the stuff of which enthu- 
 siasts are made, than any other in the world. In no 
 other part of the globe, not even in Scotland, is mora- 
 lity at so high a premium. No where is undeviating 
 compliance with public opinion so unsparingly en- 
 forced. The only lever by which people of this cha- 
 racter can be moved, is that of argument. A New 
 Englander is far more a being of reason than of im- 
 pulse. Talk to him of what is high, generous, and 
 noble, and he will look on you with a vacant counte- 
 nance. But tell him of what is just, proper, and es- 
 sential to his own well-being or that of his family, and
 
 UNTTARIANISM IN BOSTON. 95 
 
 he is all ear. His faculties are always sharp; his feel- 
 ings are obtuse. 
 
 Unitarianism is the democracy of religion. Its 
 creed makes fewer demands on the faith or the imagi- 
 nation, than that of any other Christian sect. It ap- 
 peals to human reason in every step of its progress^ 
 and while it narrows the compass of miracle, enlarges 
 that of demonstration. Its followers have less bigotry 
 than other religionists, because they have less enthu- 
 siasm. They refuse credence to the doctrine of one 
 grand and universal atonement, and appeal to none of 
 those sudden and preternatural impulses which have 
 given assurance to the pious of other sects. A Unita- 
 rian will take nothing for granted but the absolute and 
 plenary efficacy of his own reason in matters of reli- 
 gion. He is not a fanatic, but a dogmatist; one who 
 will admit of no distinction between the incomprehen- 
 sible and the false. 
 
 With such views of the Boston ians and their pre- 
 vailing religion, I cannot help believing, that there 
 exists a curious felicity of adaptation in both. The 
 prosperity of Unitarianism in the New England States, 
 seems a circumstance, which a philosophical observer 
 of national character, might, with no great difficulty, 
 have predicted. Jonathan chose his religion, as one 
 does a hat, because it fitted him. We believe, how- 
 ever, that his head has not yet attained its full size, 
 and confidently anticipate that its speedy enlargement 
 will ere long induce him to adopt a better and more or- 
 thodox covering. 
 
 One of my first morning's occupations was to visit 
 Cambridge University, about three miles distant. In 
 this excursion I had the advantage of being accompa- 
 nied by Professor Ticknor, who obligingly conducted 
 me over every part of the establishment. The build- 
 ings, though not extensive, are commodious; and the li- 
 brary the largest in the United States contains about 
 30,000 volumes; no very imposing aggregate. The aca- 
 demical course is completed in four years, at the termi- 
 nation of which the candidates for the degree of Bache- 
 lor of Arts are admitted to that honour, after passing 
 the ordeal of examination. In three years more, the
 
 96 CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY BUNKER'S HILL. 
 
 degree of Master may as in the English Universities 
 be taken as matter of course. There are three terms 
 in the year, the intervals between which amount to 
 about three months. The number of students is some- 
 what under two hundred and fifty* These have the 
 option of either living more academico in the college, or 
 of boarding in houses in the neighbourhood. No reli- 
 gious tenets are taught ; but the regnant spirit is un- 
 questionably Unitarian. In extent, in opulence, and in 
 number of students, the establishment is not equal even 
 to the smallest of our Scottish Universities. 
 
 On leaving Cambridge, we drove to Bunker's Hill, 
 celebrated as the spot on which the first collision took 
 place between the troops of the mother country and 
 her rebellious colonists. It is a strong position, and if 
 duly strengthened by intrenchments, might be defend- 
 ed against an enemy of much superior force. On the 
 summit of this height, a monument to the memory of 
 Washington was in progress. A more appropriate site 
 could not have been selected. But tributes of stone or 
 brass are thrown away upon Washington. Si monu- 
 mentum quceris circumspicet 
 
 Our next visit was to the navy-yard, an establish- 
 ment of considerable, extent. There were two seven- 
 ty-fours on the stocks, and, if I remember rightly, a fri- 
 gate and a sloop. A dry-dock had nearly been com- 
 pleted of size sufficient to receive the largest line-of- 
 battle ship. Commodore Morris, the commandant, was 
 obligingly communicative, and, in the course even of a 
 short conversation, afforded abundant proof, that his 
 acquirements were very far from being exclusively pro- 
 fessional. 
 
 On the day following, I went, accompanied by a very 
 kind friend, to see the State-prison at Charlestown. 
 The interesting description given by Captain Hall of 
 the prison at Sing-Sing had raised my curiosity, and I 
 felt anxious to inspect an establishment, conducted on 
 the same general principle, and with some improve- 
 ments in detail. It was difficult to conceive, that a 
 system of discipline so rigid could be maintained, with- 
 out a degree of severity, revolting to the feelings. That 
 hundreds of men should live together for years in the
 
 CHARLESTON PRISON, 97 
 
 daily association of labour, under such a rigorous and 
 unbroken system of restraint, as to prevent them during 
 all that period from holding even the most trifling in- 
 tercourse, seemed a fact so singular, and in such direct 
 opposition to the strongest propensities of human na- 
 ture, as to require strong evidence to establish its cre- 
 dibility. I was glad to take advantage, therefore, of 
 the first opportunity to visit the prison at Charleston, 
 and the scene there presented, was unquestionably one 
 of the most striking I have ever witnessed. Pleasant 
 it was not, for it cannot be so to witness the degrada- 
 tion and sufferings of one's fellow-creatures. 
 
 In no part of the establishment, however, was there 
 any thing squalid or offensive. The gaoler one ex- 
 pects hard features in such an official was a man of 
 mild expression, but of square and sinewy frame. He 
 had formerly been skipper of a merchantman, and it 
 was impossible to compliment him on the taste displayed 
 in his change of profession. Before proceeding on the 
 circuit of the prison, he communicated some interesting 
 details in regard to its general management, and the 
 principles on which it was conducted* 
 
 The prisoners amounted to nearly three hundred; the 
 keepers were only fourteen. The disparity of force* 
 therefore, was enormous ; and as the system adopted 
 was entirely opposed to that of solitary confinement, it 
 did, at first sight, seem strange that the convicts the 
 greater part of whom were men of the boldest and most 
 abandoned character should not take advantage of 
 their vast physical superiority, and, by murdering the 
 keepers, regain their liberty. A cheer, a cry, a signal, 
 would be enough ; they had weapons in their hands, 
 and it required but a momentary effort of one-tenth of 
 their number, to break the chains of perhaps the most 
 galling bondage to which human beings were ever sub- 
 jected. 
 
 In what then consisted the safety of the gaoler and 
 his assistants? In one circumstance alone. In a sur- 
 veillance so strict and unceasing, as to render it phy- 
 sically impossible, by day or night, for the prisoners 
 to hold the slightest communication, without discovery. 
 
 13
 
 98 THE PRISON BUILDING. 
 
 They set their lives upon this cast. They knew the 
 penalty of the slightest negligence, and they acted 
 like men who knew it. 
 
 The buildings enclose a quadrangle of about two 
 hundred feet square. One side is occupied by a build- 
 ing, in which are the cells of the prisoners. It con- 
 tains three hundred and four solitary cells, built alto- 
 gether of stone, and arranged in four stories. Each 
 cell is secured by a door of wrought iron. On the 
 sides where the cell-doors present themselves, are 
 stone galleries, three feet wide, supported by cast-iron 
 pillars. These galleries extend the whole length of the 
 building, and encircle three sides of these ranges of 
 cells. The fourth presents only a perpendicular wall, 
 without galleries, stairs, or doors. Below, and exte- 
 rior to the cells and galleries, runs a passage nine feet 
 broad, from which a complete view of the whole can. 
 be commanded. 
 
 The cells have each a separate ventilator: They are 
 seven feet long, three feet six inches wide, and contain, 
 each an iron bedstead. On one side, considerably ele- 
 vated, is a safety watch-box, with an alarum-bell, at 
 the command only of the gaoler on duty. In front of 
 the building, or rather between the building and the 
 central quadrangle, is the kitchen, communicating, by 
 doors and windows, with a passage, along which the 
 prisoners must necessarily travel in going to, or re- 
 turning from their cells. Adjoining is a chapel, in 
 which the convicts attend prayers twice a-day. 
 
 In regard to the system of discipline enforced in this 
 interesting establishment, it may be better described 
 in other words than my own. The following is an ex- 
 tract from the annual report of the Boston Prison Dis- 
 cipline Society: " From the locking up at night till 
 daylight, all the convicts, except an average of about 
 five in the hospital, are in the new building, in separate 
 cells, and in cells so arranged, that a sentinel on duty 
 can preserve entire silence among three hundred. The 
 space around the cells being open from the ground to 
 the roof, in front of four stories of cells, in a building 
 two hundred feet in length, furnishes a perfect sound- 
 ing gallery, in which the sentinel is placed, who can
 
 HOURS OF LABOUR. 99 
 
 hear a whisper from the most distant cell. He can, 
 therefore, keep silence from the time of locking up 
 at night, to the time of unlocking in the morning, 
 which, at some seasons of the year, makes more than 
 one half of all the time, which is thus secured from 
 evil communication. From the time of unlocking in 
 the morning, about twelve minutes are occupied in 
 a military movement of the convicts, in companies 
 of thirty-eight, with an officer to each company, in 
 perfect silence, to their various places of labour. At 
 the end of that period, it is found that there is a place 
 for every man, and every man in his place. This is as 
 true of the officers as of the convicts. If an officer have 
 occasion to leave his place, the system requires that a 
 substitute be called; if a convict have occasion to leave 
 his place, there is a token provided for each shop, or 
 for a given number of men, so that from this shop or 
 number only one convict can leave his place at a time. 
 The consequence is, that with the exception of those 
 who have the tokens in their hands, any officer of the 
 institution may be certain of finding, during the hours 
 of labour, a place for every man, and every man in his 
 place. There is, however, a class of men, consisting of 
 ten or twelve, called runners and lumpers^ whose duty 
 consists in moving about the yard. But even their 
 movements are in silence and order. Consequently, 
 during the hours of labour, the convicts are never seen 
 moving about the yard promiscuously, or assembled in 
 little groups, in some hiding-places of mischief, or even 
 two and two in common conversation. All is order and 
 silence, except the busy noise of industry during the 
 hours of labour. 
 
 "The hours of labour in the morning vary a little 
 with the season of the year, but amount at this season 
 to nearly two hours, from the time of unlocking in the 
 morning till breakfast. When the hour for breakfast 
 comes, almost in an instant the convicts are all seen 
 marching in solid and silent columns, with the lock-step, 
 under their respective officers, from the shops to the 
 cells. On their way to the cells they pass the cookery, 
 where the food, having been made ready, is handed to 
 them as they pass along ; and at the end of about twelve
 
 100 PRISON REGULATIONS. 
 
 minutes, from the time of ringing the bell for breakfast, 
 all the convicts are in their cells eating their breakfasts, 
 silently and alone. One officer only is left in charge to 
 preserve silence, and the others are as free from solici- 
 tude and care, till the hour for labour returns, as other 
 citizens. 
 
 " When the time of labour again returns, which is at 
 the end of about twenty-five minutes, almost in an in- 
 stant the whole body of convicts are again seen march- 
 ing, as before, to their places of labour. On their way 
 to the shops, they pass through the chapel and attend 
 prayers. The time from breakfast till dinner, passes 
 away like the* time for labour before breakfast, all the 
 convicts being found in their places, industriously em- 
 ployed, in silence. The time assigned for dinner is filled 
 up in the same manner as the time assigned for break- 
 fast ; and the time for labour in the afternoon in the 
 same manner as the time for labour in the morning; 
 and when the time for evening prayers has come, at the 
 ringing of the bell, all the convicts, and all the officers 
 not on duty elsewhere, are seen marching to the cha- 
 pel, where the chaplain closes the day with reading the 
 Scriptures, and prayer. After which, the convicts 
 march, with perfect silence and order, to their cells, 
 taking their supper as they pass along. In about five 
 and twenty minutes from the time of leaving their la- 
 bour, the convicts have attended prayers in the chapel, 
 taken their supper, marched to their cells with their 
 supper in their hands, and are safely locked up for the 
 night. This is the history of a day at Charleston ; and 
 the history of a day is the history of a year, with the 
 variations which are made on the Sabbath, by dispensing 
 with the hours of labour, and substituting the hours for 
 instruction in the Sabbath School, and the hours for 
 public worship." 
 
 We had hardly time to examine the arrangement of 
 the cells, when the dinner bell sounded, and issuing out 
 into the quadrangle, the whole prisoners marched past 
 in imposing military array. In passing the kitchen, each 
 man's dinner was thrust out on a sort of ledge, from 
 which it was taken without any interruption of his pro- 
 gress. In less than two minutes they were in their
 
 WORKSHOPS OF THE PRISONERS. JQ1 
 
 " deep solitudes and awful cells," and employed in the 
 most agreeable duty of their day dinner. I again en- 
 tered the building, to listen for the faintest whisper. 
 None was to be heard; the silence of the desert could 
 not be deeper. In about half an hour another bell rang, 
 and the prisoners were again afoot. The return to la- 
 hour differed in nothing from the departure from it; but 
 the noise of saws, axes, and hammers, soon showed they 
 were now differently employed. 
 
 The gaoler next conducted us through the workshops. 
 Each trade had a separate apartment. The masons 
 were very numerous; so were the carpenters and 
 coopers. The tailors were employed in making clothes 
 for their companions in misfortune, and the whole es- 
 tablishment had the air rather of a well conducted ma- 
 nufactory than of a prison. There was nothing of deep 
 gloom, but a good deal of callous indifference generally 
 observable in the countenances of the convicts. In 
 some, however, I thought I did detect evidence of over- 
 whelming depression. Yet this might be imagination, 
 and when I pointed out the individuals to the gaoler, 
 he assured me I was mistaken. 
 
 The prisoners are allowed to hold no intercourse of 
 any kind with the world, beyond the walls which en- 
 close them. It is a principle invariably adhered to, that 
 they shall be made to feel, that during their confine- 
 ment and many ai-e confined for life they are beings 
 cut off even from the commonest sympathies of mankind, 
 I know not but that severity in this respect has been car- 
 ried too far. If they are again to be turned out upon 
 society, is it not injudicious, as it is cruel policy, to 
 trample on the affections even of those depraved and 
 guilty beings, and to send them forth with every tie 
 Broken which might have acted as a motive to reforma* 
 tion? What can be expected from men so circum- 
 stanced, but that they will renew their former course, 
 or plunge into guilt yet deeper. On the other hand, if 
 they are to be immured for life, the punishment can be 
 considered little better than a gratuitous barbarity. 
 But the great evil is, that on the utterly abandoned it 
 falls lightly. It is the heart guilty, yet not hardened in 
 guilt, which is still keenly alive to the gentler and purer
 
 102 TREATMENT OF THE PRISONERS. 
 
 affections, that it crushes with an oppression truly wither- 
 ing. And can no penalty be discovered more appro- 
 priate for the punishment of the sinner, than one which 
 falls directly and exclusively on the only generous sym- 
 pathies which yet link him to his fellow men 1 Why 
 should he be treated like a brute, whose very sufferings 
 prove him to be a man 1 
 
 The whole produce of the labour of the prisoners be- 
 longs to the state. No portion of it is allowed to the 
 prisoner on his discharge. This regulation may be ju- 
 dicious in America, where the demand for labour is so 
 great, that every man may, at any time, command em- 
 ployment; but in Great Britain it is different, and there, 
 to turn out a convict on the world, pennyless, friend- 
 less, and without character, would be to limit his choice 
 ,to the alternative of stealing or starving. 
 
 Of course, a system of discipline so rigorous, could not 
 be enforced without a power of punishment, almost ar- 
 bitrary, being vested in the gaoler. The slightest in- 
 fraction of the prison rules, therefore, is uniformly fol- 
 lowed by severe infliction. There is no pardon, and no 
 impunity for offenders of any sort ; and here, as else- 
 where, the certainty of punishment following an offence, 
 is found very much to diminish the necessity for its fre- 
 quency. There is great evil, however, in this total ir- 
 responsibility on the part of the gaoler. There is no 
 one to whom the convict, if unjustly punished, can com- 
 plain, and a power is intrusted to an uneducated man, 
 possibly of strong passions, which the wisest and best of 
 mankind would feel himself unfit to exercise. I cannot 
 help thinking, therefore, that a board of inspectors 
 should assemble at least monthly at the prison, in order 
 to hear all complaints that may be made against the 
 gaoler. There is no doubt that this unpopular func- 
 tionary would be subject to many false and frivolous ac- 
 cusations. The latter, however, may always be dis- 
 missed without trouble of any sort, but all plausible 
 charges should receive rigid and impartial examination. 
 The circumstances connected with the Charleston prison 
 are precisely the most favourable for the attainment of 
 truth. There can be no concert among the witnesses 
 to be examined, no system of false evidence got up, no
 
 ANECDOTE OF A PRISONER. j 3 
 
 plotting, no collusion. Here coincidence of testimony 
 could be explained only on the hypothesis of its truth ; 
 and this circumstance must be quite as favourable to 
 the gaoler as to the prisoners. The former could never 
 want the means of vindication, if falsely impeached. 
 
 I had a good deal of conversation with the gaoler in 
 regard to the effects produced by the system on the mo- 
 rals of the convicts. He at once admitted that any 
 material improvement of character in full-grown offend- 
 ers was rarely to be expected, but maintained that the 
 benefit of the Charleston system, even in this respect, 
 was fully greater than had been found to result from 
 any other plan adopted in the United States. His ex- 
 perience had not led him to anticipate much beneficial 
 consequence from the system of solitary confinement. 
 He had seen it often tried, but the prisoners, on their 
 liberation, had almost uniformly relapsed into their 
 former habits of crime. One interesting anecdote 
 which occurred under his own observation, I shall here 
 record. 
 
 Many years ago, long before the establishment of the 
 present prison system, a man of respectable connexions, 
 but of the most abandoned habits, was convicted of 
 burglary, and arrived at Charleston jail, under sentence 
 of imprisonment for life. His spirit was neither hum- 
 bled by the punishment nor the disgrace. His conduct 
 towards the keepers was violent and insubordinate, and 
 it was soon found necessary, for the maintenance of dis- 
 cipline, that he should be separated from his fellow 
 prisoners, and placed in solitary confinement. For the 
 first year he was sullen and silent, and the clergyman 
 who frequently visited him in his cell, found his mind 
 impervious to all religious impression. But by degrees 
 a change took place in his deportment. His manner 
 became mild and subdued; he was often found reading 
 the Scriptures, and both gaoler and chaplain congratu- 
 lated themselves on the change of character so manifest 
 in the prisoner. He spoke of his past life, and the fear- 
 ful offences in which it had abounded, with suitable 
 contrition; and expressed his gratitude to God, that in- 
 stead of being snatched away in the midst of his crimes, 
 time had been afforded him for repentance, and the at-
 
 104 ANECDOTE OF A PRISONER. 
 
 tainment of faith in that grand and prevailing atone- 
 ment, by the" efficacy of which even the greatest of 
 sinners might look for pardon. 
 
 Nothing, in short, could be more edifying than this 
 man's conduct and conversation. All who saw him 
 became interested in the fate of so meek a Christian, 
 and numerous applications were made to the Governor 
 of the State for his pardon. The Governor, with such 
 weight of testimony before him, naturally inclined to 
 mercy > and, in a few weeks, the man would have been 
 undoubtedly liberated, when, one day, in the middle 
 of a religious conversation, he sprang upon the keeper, 
 stabbed him in several places, and, haying cut his 
 throat, attempted to escape. 
 
 The attempt failed. The neophyte in morality was 
 brought back to his cell, and loaded with heavy irons. 
 In this condition he remained many years, of course 
 without the slightest hope of liberation. At length, 
 his brother-in-law, a man of influence and fortune in 
 South Carolina, made application to the authorities of 
 Massachusetts on his behalf. He expressed his readi- 
 ness to provide for his unfortunate relative, and, if li- 
 berated, he promised, on his arrival in Charleston, to 
 place him in a situation above all temptation to return 
 to his former crimes. 
 
 This offer was accepted; the prisoner was set at li- 
 berty, and the gaoler, who told me the anecdote, was 
 directed to see him safely on board of a Charleston 
 packet, in which, due provision had been made for his 
 reception. His imprisonment had extended to the 
 long period of twenty years, during which he had ne- 
 ver once breathed the pure air of heaven, nor gazed 
 on the sun or sky. In the interval, Boston, which he 
 remembered as a small town, had grown into a large 
 city. Its advance in opulence had been still more ra- 
 pid. In every thing there had been a change. The 
 appearance, manners, habits, thoughts, prejudices, and 
 opinions of the generation then living, were different 
 from all to which he had been accustomed. Nor was 
 the aspect of external objects less altered. Streets of 
 framework cottages had been replaced by handsome 
 squares, and stately edifices of brick. Gay equipages,
 
 ANECDOTE OF A PRISONER. 105 
 
 such as he never remembered, met his observation at eve- 
 ry turn. In short, he felt like the inhabitant of another 
 planet, suddenly cast into a world of which he knew no- 
 thing. 
 
 My informant I wish I could give the story in his 
 own words described well and feelingly the progress of 
 the man's impressions. A coach had been provided for 
 his conveyance to the packet. On first entering it, he 
 displayed no external symptom of emotion; but, as the 
 carriage drove on, he gazed from the window, endea- 
 vouring to recognise the features of the scenery. But in 
 vain; he looked for marsh and forest, and he beheld 
 streets; he expected to cross a poor ferry, and the car- 
 riage rolled over a magnificent bridge; he looked for men 
 as he had left them, and he saw beings of aspect altoge- 
 ther different. Where were the great men of the State- 
 house and the Exchange the aristocracy of the dollar 
 bags the Cincinnati of the Revolution, who brought to 
 the counting-house the courtesies of the camp and the 
 parade, and exhibited the last and noblest specimens of 
 the citizen gentleman? They had gone down to their 
 fathers full of years and of honour, and their descendants 
 had become as the sons of other men. Queues, clubs, 
 periwigs, shoe-buckles, hair-powder, and cocked hats, 
 had fled to some other and more dignified world. The 
 days of dram-drinking and tobacco-chewing, of gaiters, 
 trousers, and short crops, had succeeded. The latter 
 circumstances, indeed, might not have occasioned the 
 poor relieved convict any great concern, but the whole 
 scene was too much for him to bear unmoved. His spi- 
 rit was weighed down by a feeling of intense solitude, 
 and he burst into tears. 
 
 The remainder of the story may be told in a few 
 words. He reached Charleston, where his brother 
 placed him in a respectable boarding-house, and supplied 
 him with necessaries of every kind. His conduct for 
 the first year was all that could be desired. But, at 
 length, in an evil hour, he was induced to visit New 
 York. He there associated with profligate companions, 
 and, relapsing into his former habits, was concerned in a 
 burglary, for which he was tried and convicted. He is 
 now in the prison at Sing-Sing, under sentence of im- 
 
 14
 
 106 OBSERVATIONS ON PRISON DISCIPLINE. 
 
 prisonment for life, and from death only can he hope for 
 liberation. 
 
 The gaoler told me this anecdote, as a proof how lit- 
 tle amendment of the moral character is to be expected 
 from solitary confinement. The case, undoubtedly, is a 
 strong one, yet, of all the systems of punishment hither- 
 to devised, the entire isolation of the criminal from his 
 fellow-men, if judicious advantage be taken of the op- 
 portunities it affords, and the state of mind which it can 
 scarcely fail to produce, seems that which is most like- 
 ly to be attended with permanent reformation. The 
 great objection to the Auburn and Charleston system, is, 
 that the prisoners are treated like brutes, and any lurk- 
 ing sense of moral dignity is destroyed. Each indivi- 
 dual is not only degraded in his own eyes, but in those 
 of his companions; and it appears impossible that a cri- 
 minal, once subjected to such treatment, should ever af- 
 ter be qualified to discharge, with advantage to his coun- 
 try, the duties of a citizen. Solitary confinement, on 
 the other hand, has, necessarily, no such consequence; it 
 at once obviates all occasion for corporal punishment, 
 and for the exercise of arbitrary and irresponsible power 
 on the part of the gaoler. The prisoner, on his libera- 
 tion, is restored to society, humbled, indeed, by long 
 suffering, yet not utterly degraded below the level of his 
 fellow creatures. 
 
 On the whole, the system of discipline I have wit- 
 nessed at Charleston must be considered as a curious ex- 
 periment, illustrating the precise degree of coercion ne- 
 cessary to destroy the whole influence of human voli- 
 tion, and reduce man to the condition of a machine. 
 How far it accomplishes the higher objects contemplated 
 in the philosophy of punishment, is a question which de- 
 mands more consideration than I have at present time 
 or inclination to bestow on it. I anticipate, however, 
 having occasion to return to the subject, in narrating my 
 visit to the Penitentiary at Philadelphia.
 
 THE TARIFF QUESTION. |Q7 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 THE New England States are the great seat of manu- 
 factures in the Union; and, in Boston, especially, it is 
 impossible to mix at all in society, without hearing dis- 
 cussions on the policy of the TariiF Bill. I was pre- 
 pared to encounter a good deal of bigotry on this sub- 
 ject, but, on the whole, found less than I -expected. Of 
 course, here, as elsewhere, men will argue Strenuously 
 and earnestly on the policy of a measure, with which 
 they know their own interests to be inseparably connect- 
 ed; but both the advocates and opponents of the Tariff 
 are to be found mingled very sociably at good men's 
 feasts, and I have not been able to discover that antago- 
 nism of opinion has been in any degree productive of 
 hostility of feeling. 
 
 On this question, as on many others, the weight of 
 numbers is on one side, and that of sound argument on 
 the other. It is the observation, I think, of Hobbes, 
 that were it to become the interest of any portion of the 
 human race to deny the truth of a proposition in Euclid, 
 by no power of demonstration could it ever after com- 
 mand universal assent. This may be going too far, but 
 we know how difficult it is, in the less certain sciences, 
 to influence the understanding of those in favour of a 
 conclusion, whose real or imagined interests must be in- 
 juriously affected by its establishment. Truths cease to 
 be palpable when they touch a man's prejudices or his 
 pocket, and patriotism is generally found at a premium 
 or a discount, precisely as it happens to be connected 
 with profit or loss. 
 
 It was not to be expected, therefore, that a question af- 
 fecting the various and conflicting interests of different 
 classes of men should be discussed in a very calm or 
 philosophical spirit. " The American System," as it is 
 called, was strenuously supported by the rich northern
 
 108 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 
 
 merchants, who expected to find in manufactures a new 
 and profitable investment for their capital; and by the 
 farmers, who expected to realize better prices for their 
 wool and corn than could be commanded in the English 
 market. It was opposed with at least equal vehemence 
 by the planters of the Southern States, who regarded 
 England as their best customer, and who must have been 
 the chief sufferers, had these measures of restriction been 
 met by retaliation. Of course, as no manufactures of 
 any kind exist south of the Potomac, the inhabitants of 
 that extensive region were by no means satisfied of the 
 justice of a policy, which, by increasing the price of all 
 foreign commodities, had the effect of transferring mo- 
 ney from their pockets to those of the New England 
 monopolists. The Tariff Bill encountered strong oppo- 
 sition in both houses of the Legislature, but the repre- 
 sentatives of the Western States having declared in its fa- 
 vour, it eventually passed, though by narrow majorities, 
 and became law. 
 
 The passing of this bill inflicted a deep wound on the 
 stability of the Union. The seeds of dissension among 
 the different States had long been diffused, and now be- 
 gan to exhibit signs of rapid and luxuriant growth. The 
 inhabitants of the Southern States were almost unanimous 
 against the law. Their representatives not only protest- 
 ed loudly against its injustice, but declared, that in im- 
 posing duties, not for the sake of revenue but protection, 
 Congress had wantonly exceeded its powers, and violated 
 one of the fundamental principles of the constitution. 
 Thus arose the celebrated doctrine of nullification, or, 
 in other words, the assertion of an independent power in 
 each State of the Union, to decide for itself on the jus- 
 tice of the measures of the Federal government, and to 
 declare null, within its own limits, any act of the Fede- 
 ral Congress which it may consider as an infraction of 
 its separate rights. 
 
 To this great controversy, affecting in its very princi- 
 ple the cohesion of the different states, I shall not at pre- 
 sent do more than allude. It does, however, appear 
 abundantly clear, that if there ever were a country in 
 which it is injudicious to trammel industry with artificial 
 restrictions, that country is the United States. Covering
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 199 
 
 a vast extent of fertile territory, and advancing in wealth 
 and population with a rapidity altogether unparalleled, it 
 seems only necessary to the happiness and prosperity of 
 this favoured people, that they should refrain from coun- 
 teracting the beneficence of nature, and tranquilly enjoy 
 the many blessings which she has placed within their 
 reach. But this, unfortunately, is precisely what Ame- 
 rican legislators are not inclined to do. They seem de- 
 termined to have a prosperity of their own making; to 
 set up rival Birminghams and Manchesters; and, in spite 
 of "nature and their stars," to become, without delay, 
 a great manufacturing, as well as a great agricultural na- 
 tion. 
 
 But such things as Birmingham and Manchester are 
 not to be created by an act of Congress. They can arise 
 only under avast combination of favourable circumstances, 
 the approach of which may be retarded, but, cannot pos- 
 sibly be accelerated by a system of restrictions. They 
 would, undoubtedly, have arisen far sooner in England, 
 but for the ignorant adoption of the very policy which 
 the Americans have now thought it expedient to imitate. 
 But there is, at least, this excuse for our ancestors: The 
 policy they adopted was in the spirit of their age. They 
 did not seek to revive the exploded dogmas of a country 
 or a period less enlightened than their own; and it can 
 only be charged against them, that in seeking to gain a 
 certain object, with but few and scattered lights to guide 
 their footsteps, they went astray. 
 
 But to such palliation the conduct of the American le- 
 gislators has no claim. With the path before them clear 
 as daylight, they have preferred entangling themselves in 
 thickets and quagmires. Like children, they have closed 
 their eyes, and been content to believe that all is dark- 
 ness. Living in one age, they have legislated in the spi- 
 rit of another, and their blunders want even the merit of 
 originality. They have exchanged their own comforta- 
 ble clothing for the cast-off garments of other men, and 
 strangely appeal to their antiquity as evidence of their 
 value. 
 
 The appeal to English precedent may have some weight 
 as an argumentum adhominem, but as an argumentum 
 veritatis it can have none. We cheerfully admit, that
 
 110 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 
 
 there is no absurdity so monstrous, as to want a parallel 
 in the British statute-book. We only hope that we are 
 outgrowing our errors, and profiting, however tardily, 
 by our own experience and that of the world. But even 
 this praise the advocates of American monopoly are not 
 inclined to allow us. They charge us with bad faith in 
 our commercial reforms; with arguing on one side, and 
 acting on the other; and allege, that our statesmen, with 
 the words free trade constantly on their lips, are still 
 guided in their measures by the spirit of that antiquated 
 policy, which they so loudly condemn. 
 
 Enough of allowance, however, has not been made 
 for the difficulties of their situation. Our legislators, it 
 should be remembered, had to deal with vast interests, 
 which had grown up under the exclusive system so long 
 and rigidly adhered to. Any great and sudden change 
 in our commercial policy would have been ruinous and 
 unjust. It was necessary that the transition should be 
 gradual, even to a healthier regimen; that men's opinions 
 should be conciliated, and that time should be afforded 
 for the adjustment of vested interests to the new circum- 
 stances of competition which awaited them. The ques- 
 tion was far less as to the truth or soundness of certain 
 abstract doctrines of political economy, than by what 
 means changes affecting the disposition of the whole ca- 
 pital of the country, could be introduced with least in- 
 jury and alarm. 
 
 Those only who have minutely followed the public 
 life of Mr. Husldsson during the last ten years, can duly 
 estimate the magnitude of the obstacles with which at 
 every step of his progress he had to contend. In truth, 
 we know not any portion of history which would better 
 repay the study of American statesmen. They will there 
 acquire some knowledge of the difficulties, which assu- 
 redly, sooner or later, they will be compelled to encoun- 
 ter. They will learn, that a system of prohibition can- 
 not be abandoned with the same ease with which it was 
 originally assumed. Their first advance in the course on 
 which they have entered may be prosperous, but their 
 retreat must necessarily be disastrous. They will have 
 to endure the reproaches of the bankrupt manufacturers. 
 They will have the punishment of beholding a large pro-
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. m 
 
 portion of the capital of their country irrecoverably lost. 
 They will be assailed by the clamour and opposition of 
 men of ruined fortunes and disappointed hopes; and while 
 they lament the diminution of their country's prosperity, 
 even their self-love will scarcely secure them from the 
 conviction of its being attributable solely to their own 
 selfish and ignorant policy. 
 
 In no country in the world, perhaps, could the prohi- 
 bitory system be tried with less prospect of success than 
 in the United States. The vast extent of territory alone 
 presents an insuperable obstacle to its enforcement. The 
 statesmen of England had no such difficulty to struggle 
 with. They had to legislate for a small, compact, and 
 insular country, in which there existed no such diversity 
 of climate or of interest as to create much inequality of 
 pressure in any scheme, however unreasonable, of indi- 
 rect taxation. In England, there are no provincial jea- 
 lousies to be reconciled, no rivalries or antipathies be- 
 tween different portions of the kingdom, and the facilities 
 of communication are already so great as to give promise 
 that the word distance will be speedily erased from our 
 vocabulary. 
 
 But in America all this is different. Those err egre- 
 giously who regard the population of the United States 
 as a uniform whole, composed throughout of similar ma- 
 terials, and whose patriotic attachment embraces the 
 whole territory between the Mississippi and the Penob^ 
 scot. An American is not a being of strong local attach- 
 ments, and the slightest temptation of profit is always 
 strong enough to induce him to quit his native State, and 
 break all the ties which are found to operate so power- 
 fully on other men. Entire disparity of circumstances and 
 situation between the Northern and Southern States, 
 have, besides, produced considerable alienation of feeling 
 in their inhabitants; and disputes, arising from differences 
 of soil and climate, are evidently beyond the control of 
 legislative interference. The Georgian or Carolinian, 
 therefore, lives in a state of the most profound indiffer- 
 ence with regard to the prosperity of New England, or 
 rather, perhaps, is positively jealous of any increase of 
 wealth or population, by which that portion of the Union 
 may acquire additional influence in the national councils.
 
 112 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 
 
 To the people of the Southern States, therefore, any in- 
 direct taxation, imposed for the benefit of the Northern, 
 must be doubly odious. The former wish only to buy 
 where they can buy cheapest, and to sell where they can 
 find the best market for their produce. Besides, they are 
 violent and high-spirited, strong republicans, and averse 
 from any unnecessary exercise of power on the part of the 
 Federal government. England is their great customer, 
 and the planter can entertain no reasonable hope of opu- 
 lence which is not founded on her prosperity. Such are 
 the discordant materials with which Congress has to deal, 
 and which visionary legislators have vainly attempted to 
 unite in cordial support of " the American system." 
 
 It is obvious, that a legislature which enters on a sys- 
 tem of protection-duties, assumes the exercise of a power 
 with which no wise men would wish to be intrusted, and 
 which it is quite impossible they can exercise with advan- 
 tage. They, in fact, assume the direction of the whole 
 industry and capital of the country; dictate in what chan- 
 nels they shall flow; arbitrarily enrich one class at the 
 expense of another ; tax the many for the benefit of the 
 few, and, in short, enter on a policy, which, if followed 
 by other countries, would necessarily put a stop to all 
 commerce, and throw each nation on its individual re- 
 sources. There can be no reductio ad absurdum more 
 complete. The commercial intercourse of nations would 
 'be annihilated were there a dozen governments in the 
 world actuated by a cupidity so blind and uncalculating. 
 It is, besides, impossible that any system of protection can 
 add any thing to the productive industry of a people. 
 The utmost it can effect is the transference of labour and 
 capital from one branch of employment to another. It 
 simply holds out a bribe to individuals to divert their in- 
 dustry from the occupations naturally most profitable, to 
 others which are less so. This cannot be done without 
 national loss. The encouragement which is felt in one 
 quarter, must be accompanied by at least equal depres- 
 sion in another. The whole commercial system is made 
 to rest on an insecure and artificial foundation, and the 
 capital of the country, which has been influenced in its 
 distribution, by a temporary and contingent impulse, may, 
 at at any moment, be paralyzed by a change of system.
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. H3 
 
 It is impossible, therefore, as matters now stand in 
 America, that the manufacturing capitalists can look 
 with any feeling of security to the future. They know, 
 that the sword which is suspended over them hangs only 
 by a hair, and may fall at any time. A large portion of 
 the Union is resolutely, and almost unanimously, op- 
 posed to the continuance of the system. The monopolists, 
 therefore, can ground their speculations on no hope but 
 that of large and immediate profits, and the expectation, 
 that should the present Tariff continue in force but a few 
 years, they will, in that period, not only have realized 
 the original amount of their investments, but a return 
 sufficiently large to compensate for all the hazards of the 
 undertaking. It is from the pockets of their fellow-sub- 
 jects that they look for this enormous reimbursement; 
 and, in a general point of view, perhaps, it matters little 
 how much of the wealth of Virginia and the Carolinas 
 may be transferred to New England, since the aggregate 
 of national opulence would continue unchanged. One 
 great and unmitigated evil of the Tariff-tax, however, 
 consists in this, that while it is unjust and oppressive in 
 its operation, it destroys far more capital than it sends 
 into the coffers either of the Government or of individuals. 
 All that portion of increased price which proceeds from 
 increased difficulty of production in any article, is pre- 
 cisely so much of the national capital annihilated without 
 benefit of any sort. 
 
 But, in truth, the exclusion of British goods from the 
 Union is impossible. The extent of the Canadian fron- 
 tier is so great, that the vigilance of a million of custom- 
 house officers could not prevent their introduction. A 
 temptation high in exact proportion to the amount of the 
 restrictive duty, is held out to every trader; or in other 
 words, the government which enforces the impost, offers 
 a premium for its evasion. If Jonathan, which we 
 much doubt, is too honest to smuggle, John Canadian 
 is not; and the consequence simply is, that the United 
 States are supplied with those goods from Montreal, 
 which, under other circumstances, would have been di- 
 rectly imported. I remember walking through some 
 warehouses in New York with an eminent merchant of 
 that city; and on remarking the vast profusion of British 
 
 15
 
 114 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. 
 
 manufactures every where apparent, he significantly an- 
 swered, " Depend upon it, you have seen many more 
 goods to-day than ever passed the Hook." In this mat- 
 ter, therefore, there exists no discrepancy between rea- 
 son and experience. The trade between the countries 
 still goes on with little, if any diminution. It has only 
 been diverted from its natural and wholesome channel; 
 taken from the respectable merchant, and thrown into 
 the hands of the smuggler. 
 
 Among the body of the people there exists more igno- 
 rance as to the nature and effects of commerce, than 
 might have been expected in a nation so generally com- 
 mercial. I believe the sight of the vast importations 
 from Britain, which fill the warehouses in every seaport, 
 is accompanied with a feeling not unallied to envy. 
 They would pardon us for our king and our peers, our 
 palaces and our parade, far sooner than for our vast ma- 
 nufactories, which deluge the world with their produce. 
 Such feelings are the consequence of ignorant and narrow 
 views. In truth, every improvement in machinery 
 which is made in Leeds or Manchester is a benefit to 
 the world. By its agency the price of some commodity 
 has been lowered, and an article, perhaps essential to 
 comfort, is thus brought within the reach of millions to 
 whom it must otherwise have been inaccessible. 
 
 Any sentiment of jealousy arising from the diffusion 
 of British manufactures in their own country is no less 
 absurd. Every increase of importation is, in fact, an 
 evidence of increased opulence and prosperity in the im- 
 porting country. Not a bale of goods is landed at the 
 quay of New York, without an equal value of the pro- 
 duce of the country being exported to pay for it. Com- 
 merce is merely a barter of equivalents, and carries this 
 advantage, that both parties are enriched by it. Thus, a 
 piece of muslin may be more valuable in America than a 
 bag of cotton; while, in England, the superiority of value 
 is on the side of the latter. It is evident, therefore, that if 
 these two articles be exchanged, both parties are gainers; 
 both receive a greater value than they have given, and 
 the mass of national opulence, both in England and 
 America, has received a positive increase. A commerce 
 which is not mutually advantageous cannot be continued.
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE TARIFF. H5 
 
 No Tariff bill, no system of restriction, is required to 
 put a stop to it. Governments have no reason to con- 
 cern themselves about the balance of trade. They may 
 safely leave that to individual sagacity, and devote their 
 attention to those various interests in which legislation 
 may at least possibly be attended with benefit. 
 
 But formidable as the difficulties are which surround 
 the supporters of the prohibitory system, another is ap- 
 proaching, even of greater magnitude. In two years the 
 national debt will be extinguished, and the Federal go- 
 vernment will find itself in possession of a surplus revenue 
 of 12,000,000 of dollars, chiefly the produce of the Ta- 
 riff duties. The question will then arise, how is this re- 
 venue to be appropriated? If divided among the different 
 states, the tranquillity of the Union will be disturbed by 
 a thousand jealousies, which very probably would termi- 
 nate in its dissolution. Besides, such an appropriation is 
 confessedly unconstitutional, and must arm the govern- 
 ment with a power never contemplated at its formation, 
 To apply the surplus in projects of general improvement, 
 under direction of Congress, would increase many of the 
 difficulties, while it obviated none. In short, there is no 
 escaping from the dilemma; and, singular as it may seem 
 to an Englishman, the Tariff will probably be extin- 
 guished by a sheer plethora of money. The most en- 
 lightened statesmen unite in the conviction, that there is 
 but one course to be pursued, and that is, to reduce the 
 duties to a fair system of revenue; to extract from the 
 pockets of the people what is sufficient for the necessary 
 expenses of the government, and no more. It is singular, 
 that the wealth of a nation, which in other countries is 
 found to generate corruption, should, in the United States, 
 be the means of forcing the government to return to the 
 principles of sound and constitutional legislation. 
 
 I am aware there is nothing new in all this, nor is it 
 possible perhaps to be very original on a subject which 
 has been so often and so thoroughly discussed. It ought 
 perhaps in justice to be stated, that the majority of the 
 gentlemen among whom I moved in Boston, were opposed 
 to the Tariff, and that I derived much instruction both 
 from their conversation and writings. The great majo- 
 rity of the mercantile population, however, are in favour
 
 }16 NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. 
 
 of the prohibitory system, though I could not discover 
 much novelty in the arguments by which they support 
 it. To these, however, I shaU not advert, and gladly 
 turn from a subject, which I fear can possess little inte- 
 rest for an English reader. 
 
 A traveller has no sooner time to look about him in 
 Boston, than he receives the conviction that he is thrown 
 among a population of a character differing in much 
 from that of the other cities of the Union. If a tolerable 
 observer, he will immediately remark that the lines of 
 the forehead are more deeply indented; that there is 
 more hardness of feature ; a more cold and lustreless ex- 
 pression of the eye; a more rigid compression of the lips, 
 and that the countenance altogether is of a graver and 
 more meditative cast. Something of all this is apparent 
 even in childhood; as the young idea shoots, the pecu- 
 liarities become more strongly marked ; they grow with 
 his growth and strengthen with his strength, and it is only 
 when the New Englander is restored to his kindred dust 
 that they are finally obliterated. Observe him in every 
 different situation; at the funeral, and the marriage-feast; 
 at the theatre, and the conventicle; in the ball-room, and 
 on the exchange, and you will set him down as of God's 
 creatures the least liable to be influenced by circum- 
 stances appealing to the heart or imagination. 
 
 The whole city seems to partake of this peculiar cha- 
 racter, and a traveller coming from New York is especi- 
 ally struck with it. It is not that the streets of Boston 
 are less crowded, the public places less frequented, or 
 that the business of life is less energetically pursued. In 
 all these matters, to the eye of a stranger there is little 
 perceptible difference. But the population is evidently 
 more orderly; the conventional restrictions of society are 
 more strictly drawn, and even the lower orders are dis- 
 tinguished by a solemnity of demeanour, not observable 
 in their more southern neighbours. A shopkeeper weighs 
 coffee or measures tape with the air of a philosopher; 
 makes observations on the price or quality with an air of 
 sententious sagacity; subjects your coin to a sceptical 
 scrutiny, and as you walk off with your parcel in your 
 pocket, examines you from top to toe, in order to gain 
 some probable conclusion as to your habits or profession.
 
 NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. 117 
 
 Boston is quiel, but there is none of the torpor of still 
 life about it. No where are the arts of money getting 
 more deeply studied or better understood. There is here 
 less attempt than elsewhere to combine pleasure and bu- 
 siness, simply because to a New Englander business is 
 pleasure indeed the only pleasure he cares much about. 
 An English shopkeeper is a tradesman all morning, but a 
 gentleman in the evening. He casts his slough like a snake, 
 and steps into it again, only when he crosses the counter. 
 Tallow, dry goods, and tobacco, are topics specially es- 
 chewed in the drawing-rooms of Camberwell and Hack- 
 ney, and all talk about sales and bankruptcies is consi- 
 dered a violation of the bienseances at Broad-stairs and 
 Margate. In short, an English tradesman is always soli- 
 citous to cut the shop whenever he can do so with impu- 
 nity, and it often happens that an acute observer of man- 
 ners can detect a man's business rather by the topics he 
 betrays anxiety to avoid, than those on which he delivers 
 his opinion. 
 
 There is some folly in all this, but there is, likewise, 
 some happiness. Enough, and too much of man's life 
 is devoted to business and its cares, and it is well that at 
 least a portion of it should be given to enjoyment, and 
 the cultivation of those charities, which constitute the 
 redeeming part of our nature. The follies of mankind 
 have at least the advantage of being generally social, and 
 connected with the happiness of others as well as with 
 our own. But the pursuits of avarice and ambition are 
 selfish; their object is the attainment of solitary distinc- 
 tion, and the depression of competitors is no less neces- 
 sary to success, than the positive elevation of the candi- 
 date. The natural sympathies of humanity are apt to 
 wither in the hearts of men engrossed by such interests; 
 Even the vanities and follies of life have their use in 
 softening the asperities of contest, and uniting men in 
 their weakness, who would willingly stand apart in their 
 strength. It is good, therefore, that the lawyer should 
 sometimes forget his briefs, and the merchant his " argo- 
 sies," and his money-bags; that the poor man should 
 cast off the memory of his sweat and his sufferings, and 
 find even in frivolous amusements, a Sabbath of the 
 sterner passions.
 
 118 NEW ENGLAND CHARACTER. 
 
 But such Sabbath the New Englander rarely knows. 
 Wherever he goes, the coils of business are around him. 
 He is a sort of moral Laocoon, differing only in this, 
 that he makes no struggle to be free. Mammon has no 
 more zealous worshipper than your true Yankee. His 
 homage is not merely that of the lip, or of the knee; it 
 is an entire prostration of the heart; the devotion of all 
 powers, bodily and mental, to the service of the idol. 
 He views the world but as one vast exchange, on which 
 he is impelled, both by principle and interest, to over- 
 reach his neighbours if he can. The thought of business 
 is never absent from his mind. To him there is no en- 
 joyment without traffic. He travels snail-like, with his 
 shop or his counting-house on his back, and, like other 
 hawkers, is always ready to open his budget of little 
 private interests for discussion or amusement. The only 
 respite he enjoys from the consideration of his own af- 
 fairs, is the time he is pleased to bestow on prying into 
 yours. In regard to the latter, he evidently considers 
 that he has a perfect right to unlimited sincerity. There 
 is no baffling him. His curiosity seems to rise in pro- 
 portion to the difficulty of its gratification: He will 
 track you through every evasion, detect all your dou- 
 blings, or, if thrown out, will hark back so skilfully on 
 the scent, that you are at length fairly hedged in a cor- 
 ner, and are tempted to exclaim, in the words of the 
 most gifted of female poets, 
 
 " The devil damn thy question-asking spirit; 
 For, when thou takest a notion by the skirt, 
 Thou, like an English bull-dog 1 , keepest thy hold, 
 And wilt not let it go." 
 
 Their puritan descent has stamped a character on the 
 New Englanders, which nearly two centuries havedone lit- 
 tle to efface. Among their own countrymen they are dis- 
 tinguished for their enterprise, prudence, frugality, order, 
 and intelligence. Like the Jews, they are a marked peo- 
 ple, and stand out in strong relief from the population 
 which surrounds them. I imagine attachment to re- 
 publicanism is less fervent in this quarter of the Union 
 than in any other. The understanding of a Yankee is 
 not likely to be run away with by any political plausi- 
 bilities, and concerns itself very little about evils which
 
 CONSTITUTION OF NEW ENGLAND STATES. 119 
 
 are merely speculative. He is content when he feels a 
 grievance to apply a remedy, and sets about the work of 
 reform, with none of that revolutionary fury, which has 
 so often marred the fairest prospects of the philanthropist. 
 Since the establishment of their independence, the re- 
 presentatives of these States have almost uniformly ad- 
 vocated in Congress the principles of Washington, Ha- 
 milton, and Adams, and rather regarded with apprehen- 
 sion the democratic tendencies of the constitution, than 
 the dangers which might result from increase of power 
 on the part of the executive. 
 
 This is the more remarkable, as the constitutions of 
 most of the New England States are in truth republican 
 in a degree verging on democracy. In New Hampshire, 
 the governor, council, senators, and representatives are 
 all elected annually by the people. In Vermont, there 
 is only one Legislative body, which, along with the go- 
 vernor and council, and judges, is chosen annually. 
 Rhode Island, strange to say, has no written constitution 
 at all, and the inhabitants find it very possible to live in 
 perfect comfort and security without one. The custom 
 is, however, to have a governor, senate, and representa- 
 tives, who are chosen annually. The appointment of 
 judges is likewise annual. In Massachusetts, the governor 
 and Legislative Bodies are annually chosen the judges, 
 however, hold their offices ad vitam aut culpam. In the 
 States of Maine and Connecticut, the Executive and Le- 
 gislative Bodies are appointed annually; the Judiciary, 
 however, is permanent. In all these states, the right of 
 suffrage, with some few restrictions in regard to paupers, 
 &c., is universal. 
 
 In contrast with this, it may be curious to take a glance 
 at the constitution of Virginia, the native state of Wash- 
 ington, Jefferson, Madison, and Munroe, which has al- 
 ways been remarkable in the Federal Congress for the 
 assertion of the highest and purest principles of republi- 
 canism. It must be observed, however, that until 1829, 
 the right of suffrage depended on a much higher territo- 
 rial qualification than at present. In that year, the con- 
 stitution was remodelled and liberalized by a convention 
 of the inhabitants. 
 
 There are in Virginia two Legislative Bodies. The
 
 120 PRINCIPLES OF NEW ENGLANDERS. 
 
 members of the Lower House are chosen annually, the 
 senators every four years. These houses, by a joint 
 vote, elect the governor, who remains in office three 
 years. The judges are, during good behaviour, or until 
 removed by a concurrent vote of both houses; two-thirds 
 being required to constitute the necessary majority. The 
 right of suffrage is vested in every citizen possessed of a 
 freehold of the value of twenty-five dollars, or who has a 
 life-interest in land of the value of fifty dollars, or who 
 shall own or occupy a leasehold estate* of the annual va- 
 lue of two hundred dollars, &c. 
 
 There is thus presented the anomaly of the most de- 
 mocratic state of the Union adhering to a constitution 
 comparatively aristocratic, and appending to the right of 
 suffrage a high territorial qualification; while the New 
 England states, with institutions more democratic than 
 have ever yet been realized in any other civilized com- 
 munity, are distinguished as the advocates of a strong fe- 
 deral legislature, a productive system of finance, the es- 
 tablishment of a powerful navy, and such liberal expen- 
 diture at home and abroad, as would tend to ensure re- 
 spect and influence to the government. 
 
 The truth seems to be, that the original polity of these 
 States partook of the patriarchal character, and has not 
 yet entirely lost its hold on the feelings of the people. 
 It was easy to maintain order in a country where there 
 was little temptation to crime: where, by a day's labour, 
 a man could earn the price of an acre of tolerable land, 
 and, becoming a territorial proprietor, of course, imme- 
 diately partook of the common impulse, to maintain the 
 security of property. Add to this the character of the 
 people; their apathetic temperament, their habits of par- 
 simony, the religious impressions communicated by their 
 ancestors, and, above all, the vast extent of fertile terri- 
 tory which acted as an escape-value for the more daring 
 and unprincipled part of the population, and we shall 
 have reasons enough, I imagine, why the New England- 
 ers could bear, without injury, a greater degree of poli- 
 tical liberty than perhaps any other people in the world. 
 
 But, though the New Englanders had little apprehen- 
 sion of glaring violations of law within their own terri- 
 tory, they had evidently no great confidence in the wis-
 
 RELIGION. 121 
 
 dom and morality of their neighbours. They were, there- 
 fore, in favour of a federal legislature, strong enough to 
 command respect, and maintain order throughout the 
 Union. Forming a small minority of the confederated 
 States, yet for long subsequent to the Revolution, pos- 
 sessing by far the greater share of the national capital, 
 they felt that they had more to lose than those around 
 them, and were, consequently, more solicitous to 
 strengthen the guarantees of public order. They would, 
 therefore, have been better satisfied, had greater influ- 
 ence been given to property, and would gladly have seen 
 the sena-te so constituted, as to act as a check on the has- 
 ty impulses of the more popular chamber. Within their 
 own limits, there was no risk of domestic disturbance* 
 The most wealthy capitalists felt, that, from the citizens 
 of his own province, he had nothing to apprehend. But 
 it was to the federal legislature alone, that they could 
 look for security from without, and they were naturally 
 anxious that this body should be composed of men with 
 a deep interest in the stability of the Union, and repre- 
 senting rather the deliberative opinions of their more 
 intelligent constituents, than the hasty and variable im- 
 pressions of the ignorant and vulgar. 
 
 The New England states have something approaching 
 to a religious establishment. In Massachusetts, Vermont, 
 New Hampshire, and Connecticut, the law requires each 
 town to provide, by taxation, for the support of the Pro- 
 testant religion ; leaving,however, to every individual, the 
 choice of the particular sect to which he will contribute* 
 In the other States of the Union, every person is at liberty 
 to act as he pleases in regard to religion, which is regard- 
 ed solely as a relation between man and his Maker, and 
 any compulsory contribution would be considered a di- 
 rect encroachment on personal liberty. But if Christi- 
 anity be a public benefit; if it tend to diminish crime, 
 and encourage the virtues essential to the prosperity of a 
 community, it is difficult to see on what grounds its sup- 
 port and diffusion should not form part of the duties of a 
 legislature. 
 
 In these States, the-education of the people is likewise 
 the subject of legislative enactment. In Massachusetts, 
 public schools are established in every district, and sup- 
 
 16
 
 122 EDUCATION. 
 
 ported by a tax levied on the public. In Connecticut 
 they are maintained in another manner. By the charter 
 of Charles the Second, this colony extended across the 
 Continent to the Pacific, within the same parallels of lati- 
 tude which bound it on the East. It, therefore, included 
 a large portion of the present States of Pennsylvania 
 and Ohio, which being sold, produced a sum amount- 
 ing to 270, 000 sterling, the interest of which is exclu- 
 sively devoted to the purposes of education throughout 
 the State. This fund is now largely .increased, and its 
 annual produce, I believe, is greater than the whole in- 
 come of the State arising from taxation. 
 
 In these public schools every citizen has not only a 
 right to have his children educated, but, as in some parts 
 of Germany, he is compelled by law to exercise it. It is 
 here considered essential to the public interest that every 
 man should receive so much instruction aswill qualify him 
 for a useful member of the State. No member of society 
 can be considered as an isolated and abstract being, living 
 for his own pleasure, and labouring for his own advantage. 
 In free States, especially, every man has important political 
 functions, which affect materially not only his own well- 
 being, but that of his fellow-citizens; and it is surely rea- 
 sonable to demand that he shall at least possess such know- 
 ledge as shall render it possible for him to discharge his 
 duties with advantage to the community. The policy 
 which attempts to check crime by the diffusion of know- 
 ledge, is the offspring of true political wisdom. It gives 
 a security to person and property, beyond that afforded 
 by the law, and looks for the improvement of the people, 
 not to the gibbet and the prison, but to increased intelli- 
 gence, and a consequently keener sense of moral respon- 
 sibility. 
 
 Speaking generally, it may be said that every New 
 Englander receives the elements of education. Reading 
 and writing, even among the poorest class, are universally 
 diffused: arithmetic, I presume, comes by instinct among 
 this guessing, reckoning, expecting, and calculating peo- 
 ple. The school-master has long been abroad in these 
 States, deprived, it is true, of his rod and ferule, but still 
 most usefully employed. Up to a certain point he has 
 done wonders; he has made his scholars as wise as him-
 
 AMOUNT OF ACQUIREMENT. 133 
 
 self, and it would be somewhat unreasonable to expect 
 more. If it be considered desirable, however, that the 
 present range of popular knowledge should be enlarged, 
 the question then arises, who shall teach the schoolmaster? 
 Who shall impress a pedagogue (on the best terms with 
 himself, and whose only wonder is, " that one small head 
 should carry all he knows,") with a due sense of his de- 
 ficiencies, and lead him to admit that there are more 
 things between heaven and earth than are dreamed of in 
 his philosophy? A New Englander passes through the 
 statutory process of education, and enters life with the in- 
 timate conviction that he has mastered, if not the omne 
 scibile, at least every thing valuable within the domain 
 of intellect. It never occurs to him as possible, that he 
 may have formed a wrong conclusion on any question, 
 however intricate, of politics or religion. He despises all 
 knowledge abstracted from the business of the world, and 
 prides himself on his stock of practical truths. In mind, 
 body, and estate, he believes himself the first and noblest 
 of God's creatures. The sound of triumph is ever on his 
 lips, and, like a man who has mounted the first step of a 
 ladder, it is his pride to look down on his neighbours, 
 whom he overtops by an inch, instead of directing his 
 attention to the great height yet to be surmounted. 
 
 This folly, indeed, is not peculiar to the New England- 
 er, though in him it is more strongly marked than in the 
 inhabitants of the' other States. It enters into the very 
 essence of his character; it is part and parcel of him, and 
 its eradication would involve an entire change of being. 
 " A blessing be on him who first invented sleep," says 
 Sancho Panza, " for it covers a -man all over like a cloak." 
 And even so Jonathan may bless his vanity. He is encased 
 in it from top to toe; it is a panoply of proof, which ren- 
 ders him invulnerable equally to ridicule and argument. 
 
 If to form a just estimate of ourselves and others be the 
 test of knowledge, the New Englander is the most igno- 
 rant of mankind. There is a great deal that is really 
 good and estimable in his character, but, after all, he is 
 not absolutely the ninth wonder of the world. I know 
 of no benefit that could be conferred on him equal to 
 convincing him of this truth. He may be assured that 
 the man who knows nothing, and is aware of his igno-
 
 124 BENEFITS OF EDUCATION. 
 
 ranee, is a wiser and more enviable being than he who 
 knows a little, and imagines that he knows all. The ex- 
 tent of our ignorance is a far more profitable object of 
 contemplation than that of our knowledge. Discontent 
 with our actual amount of acquirement is the indispensa- 
 ble condition of possible improvement. It is to be wished 
 that Jonathan would remember this. He may rely on it, 
 he will occupy a higher place in the estimation of the 
 world, whenever he has acquired the wisdom to think 
 snore humbly of himself. 
 
 The New England free-schools are establishments 
 happily adapted to the wants and character of the people. 
 They have been found to work admirably, and too much 
 praise cannot be bestowed on the enlightened policy 
 which, from the very foundation of the colony, has 
 never once lost sight of the great object of 'diffusing edu- 
 cation through every cottage within its boundaries. It 
 will detract nothing from the honour thus justly due, to 
 mention that the establishment of district schools was 
 not an original achievement of New England intelli- 
 gence. The parish-schools of Scotland (to say nothing 
 of Germany) had existed long before the pilgrim fathers 
 ever knelt in worship beneath the shadows of the hoary 
 forest trees. The principle of the establishments in both 
 countries is the same, the only difference is in the de- 
 tails. In Scotland the land-owners of each parish con- 
 tribute the means of education for the body of the peo- 
 ple. The school-house and dwelling-house of the mas- 
 ter are provided and kept in repair by an assessment on 
 -the land, which is likewise burdened with the amount 
 of his salary. 
 
 It has been an object, however, wisely kept in view, 
 that instruction at these seminaries shall not be wholly 
 gratuitous. There are few even of the poorest order in 
 Scotland who would not consider it a degradation to send 
 their children to a charity school, and the feeling of in- 
 dependence, is perhaps the very last which a wise legis- 
 lator will venture to counteract. It is to be expected, 
 too, that when the master depends on the emolument to 
 be derived from his scholars, he will exert himself more 
 zealously than when his remuneration arises from a 
 source altogether independent of his own efforts. The
 
 DIFFERENT MODES OF EDUCATION. 135 
 
 sum demanded from the scholars, however, is so low, 
 that instruction is placed within the reach of the poorest 
 cottager; and instances are few, indeed, in which a chfld 
 born in Scotland is suffered to grow up without sufficient 
 instruction to enable him to discharge respectably the 
 duties of the situation he is destined to fill. 
 
 When Mr. Brougham, however, brought forward in 
 the British Parliament his plan of national education, 
 which consisted mainly in the establishment throughout 
 the kingdom of parish-schools, similar to those in Scot- 
 land, one of the most eminent individuals of the Union* 
 did not hesitate to arrogate the whole merit of the pre- 
 cedent for New England. I have more than once since 
 my arrival heard Mr. Brougham accused of unworthy 
 motives, in not publicly confessing that his whole pro- 
 ject was founded on the example set forth for imitation 
 in this favoured region. It was in vain that I pleaded 
 the circumstances above stated, the company were evi- 
 dently determined to believe their own schools without 
 parallel in the world, and the Lord Chancellor will as- 
 suredly go down to his grave unabsolved from this 
 weighty imputation. 
 
 In character there are many points of resemblance be- 
 tween the Scotch and New Englanders. There is the 
 same sobriety, love of order, and perseverance in both; 
 the same attachment to religion, mingled with more cau- 
 tion in Sanders, and more enterprise in Jonathan. Both 
 are the inhabitants of a poor country, and both have be- 
 come rich by habits of steady industry and frugality. 
 Both send forth a large portion of their population to 
 participate in the wealth of more favoured regions. The 
 Scot, however, nevep loses his attachment to his native 
 land. It has probably been to him a rugged nurse, yet, 
 wander where he will, its heathy mountains are ever pre- 
 sent to his imagination, and he thinks of the bleak 
 muirland cottage in which he grew from infancy to man- 
 hood, as a spot encircled by a halo of light and beauty. 
 Whenever Fortune smiles on him, he returns to his na- 
 tive village, and the drama of his life closes where it 
 commenced. 
 
 * "Mi. Webster, in his speech delivered at Plymouth, in commemo- 
 ration of the first settlement of New England.
 
 126 NEW ENGLAND PEDLARS. 
 
 There is nothing of this local attachment about the 
 New Englander. His own country is too poor and too 
 populous to afford scope for the full exercise of his enter- 
 prise and activity. He, therefore, shoulders his axe, 
 and betakes himself to distant regions; breaks once and 
 for ever all the ties of kindred and connexion, and with- 
 out one longing lingering look, bids farewell to all the 
 scenes of his infancy. 
 
 In point of morality, I must be excused for giving the 
 decided preference to my countrymen. The Scotch 
 have established throughout, the world a high character 
 for honesty, sobriety, and steady industry. Jonathan is 
 equally sober and industrious, but his reputation for ho- 
 nesty is at a discount. The whole Union is full of stories 
 of his cunning frauds, and of the impositions he delights 
 to perpetrate on his more simple neighbours. When- 
 ever his love of money comes in competition with his 
 zeal for religion, the latter is sure to give way. He will 
 insist on the scrupulous observance of the Sabbath, and 
 cheat his customer on the Monday morning. His life is 
 a comment on the text, Quifestinat ditescere, non erit 
 innocens. The whole race of Yankee pedlars, in par- 
 ticular, are proverbial for dishonesty. These go forth, 
 annually in thousands to lie, cog, cheat, swindle, in short, 
 to get possession of their neighbour's property, in any 
 manner it can be done with impunity. Their ingenuity 
 in deception is confessedly very great. They warrant 
 broken watches to be the best time-keepers in the world; 
 sell pinch-beck trinkets for gold; and have always a 
 large assortment of wooden nutmegs, and stagnant baro- 
 meters. In this respect they resemble the Jews, of 
 which race, by the by, I am assured, there is not a single 
 specimen to be found in New England. There is an 
 old Scotch proverb, " Corbies never pick out corbies' 
 een. " 
 
 The New Englanders are not an amiable people. One 
 meets in them much to approve, little to admire, and 
 nothing to love. They may be disliked, however, but 
 they cannot be despised. There is a degree of energy 
 and sturdy independence about them, incompatible, with 
 contempt. Abuse them as we may, it must still be ad- 
 mitted they are a singular and original people. Nature,
 
 EQUAL DISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH. 
 
 in framing a Yankee, seems to have given him double 
 brains, and half heart. 
 
 Wealth is more equally distributed in the New Eng- 
 land states, than perhaps in any other country of the 
 world. There are here no overgrown fortunes. Abject 
 poverty is rarely seen, but moderate opulence every 
 where. This is as it should be. Who would wish for 
 the introduction of the palace, if it must be accompanied 
 by the Poor's-house?* 
 
 There are few beggars to be found in the streets of 
 Boston, but some there are, both there and at New York. 
 These, however, I am assured, are all foreigners, or peo- 
 ple of colour, and my own observations go to confirm the 
 assertion. Nine-tenths of those by whom I have been im- 
 portuned for charity, were evidently Irish. The number 
 of negroes in Boston is comparatively small. The ser- 
 vants, in the better houses at least, are generally whites, 
 but I have not been able to discover that the prejudices 
 which, in the other Stales, condemn the poor African to 
 degradation, have been at all modified or diminished by 
 the boasted intelligence of the New Englanders. 
 
 Though the schoolmaster has long exercised his voca- 
 tion in these States, the fruit of his labours is but little 
 apparent in the language of his pupils. The amount of 
 bad grammar in circulation is very great; that of barbar- 
 isms enormous. Of course, 1 do not now speak of the 
 operative class, whose massacre of their mother tongue, 
 however inhuman, could excite no astonishment; but I 
 allude to the great body of lawyers and traders; the men 
 who crowd the exchange and the hotels; who are to be 
 heard speaking in the courts, and are selected by their 
 fellow-citizens to fill high and responsible offices. Even 
 
 * The observations on the New England character in the present chap- 
 ter, would, perhaps, have been more appropriately deferred till a later 
 period of the work. Having written them, however, they must now 
 stand where chance has placed them. I have only to beg they may be 
 taken, not as the hasty impressions received during a few days or weeks' 
 residence in Boston; but as the final result of my observations on this 
 interesting people, both in their own states, and mother portions of the 
 Union. 
 
 This observation is equally applicable to the opinions expressed in 
 different parts of these volumes, and I must request the reader to be 
 good enough to bear it in mind.
 
 128 BARBARISMS IN LANGUAGE. 
 
 by this educated and respectable class, tbe commonest 
 words are often so transmogrified as to be placed beyond 
 the recognition of an Englishman. The word does 
 is split into two syllables, and pronounced do-es. Where, 
 for some incomprehensible reason, is converted into whare, 
 there into thare; and I remember, on mentioning to an ac- 
 quaintance that I had called on a gentleman of taste in 
 the arts, he asked, " Whether he shew (showed) me his 
 pictures." Such words as oratory and dilatory, are pro- 
 nounced with the penult syllable, long and accented ; mis- 
 sionary becomes missionairy ; angel, angel; danger, dan- 
 ger, &c. 
 
 But this is not all. The Americans have chosen arbitra- 
 rily to change the meaning of certain old and established 
 English words, for reasons which they cannot explain, and 
 which I doubt much whether any European philologist 
 could understand. The word clever affords a case in 
 point. It has here no connexion with talent, and simply 
 means pleasant or amiable. Thus, a good natured block- 
 head in the American vernacular, is a clever man, and 
 having had this drilled into me, I foolishly imagined that 
 all trouble with regard to this word at least, was at an end. 
 It was not long, however, before I heard of a gentleman 
 having moved into a clever house, of another succeeding 
 to a clever sum of money, of a third embarking in a clever 
 ship, and making a clever voyage, with a clever cargo; and 
 of the sense attached to the word in these various combi- 
 nations, I could gain nothing like a satisfactory ex- 
 planation. 
 
 With regard to the meaning intended to be conveyed 
 by an American in conversation, one is sometimes left ut- 
 terly at large. I remember, after conversing with a very 
 plain, but very agreeable lady, being asked whether Mrs. 
 
 was not a very Jine woman. I believe I have not 
 
 more conscience than my neighbours in regard to a com- 
 pliment, but in the present case there seemed something 
 so ludicrous in the application of the term, that I found it 
 really impossible to answer in the affirmative. I, there- 
 fore, ventured to hint, that the personal charms of Mrs. 
 
 were certainly not her principal attraction, but that 
 
 I had rarely enjoyed the good fortune of meeting a lady 
 more pleasing and intelligent. This led to an explana-
 
 BOSTON SOCIETY. 129 
 
 tion, and I learned that, in the dialect of this country, the 
 termjine woman refers exclusively to the intellect. 
 
 The privilege of barbarizing the King's English is as- 
 sumed by all ranks and conditions of men. Such words 
 as slick, hedge, and boss, it is true, are rarely used by the 
 better orders; but they assume unlimited liberty in the 
 Vise of "expect," "reckon," "guess," "calculate," and 
 perpetrate conversational anomalies with the most re- 
 morseless impunity. It were easy to accumulate instances, 
 but I will not go on with this unpleasant subject ; nor 
 should I have alluded to it, but that I feel it something of 
 a duty to express the natural feeling of an Englishman, at 
 finding the language of Shakspeare and Milton thus gra- 
 tuitously degraded. Unless the present progress of change 
 be arrested, by an increase of taste and judgment in the 
 more educated classes, there can be no doubt that, in ano- 
 ther century, the dialect of the Americans will become 
 utterly unintelligible to an Englishman, and that the na- 
 tion will be cut off from the advantages arising from their 
 participation in British literature. If they contemplate 
 such an event with complacency, let them go on and pros- 
 per; they have only to "progress" in their present course, 
 and their grand-children bid fair to speak a jargon as no- 
 vel and peculiar as the most patriotic American linguist 
 can desire. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 HAVING directed the attention of the reader to some of 
 the more prominent defects of the New England charac- 
 ter, it is only justice to add, that in Boston at least, there 
 exists a circle almost entirely exempt from them. This 
 is composed of the first rate merchants and lawyers, 
 leavened by a small sprinkling of the clergy, and, judging 
 of the quality of the ingredienls, from the agreeable effect 
 of the mixture, I should pronounce them excellent. There 
 
 17
 
 130 BOSTON SOCIETY. 
 
 is much taste for literature in this circle; much liberality of 
 sentiment, a good deal of accomplishment, and a greater 
 amount, perhaps, both of practical and speculative know- 
 ledge, than the population of any other mercantile city 
 could supply. In such society it is possible for an En- 
 glishman to express his opinions without danger of being 
 misunderstood, and he enjoys the advantage of free in- 
 terchange of thought, and correcting his own hasty im- 
 pressions by comparison with the results of more mature 
 experience and sounder judgment. 
 
 It certainly struck me as singular, that while the great 
 body of the New Englanders are distinguished above every 
 other people I have ever known by bigotry and narrow- 
 ness of mind, and an utter disregard of those delicacies 
 of deportment which indicate benevolence of feeling, the 
 higher and more enlightened portion of the community 
 should be peculiarly remarkable for the display of quali- 
 fies precisely the reverse. Nowhere in the United States 
 will the feelings, and even prejudices of a stranger, meet 
 with such forbearance as in the circle to which I allude. 
 No where are the true delicacies of social intercourse 
 more scrupulously observed, and no where will a travel- 
 ler mingle in society, where his errors of opinion will be 
 more rigidly detected or more charitably excused. I look 
 back on the period of my residence in Boston with pecu- 
 liar pleasure. I trust there are individuals there who 
 regard me as a friend, and I know of nothing in the more 
 remote contingencies of life, which I contemplate with 
 greater satisfaction, than the possibility of renewing in 
 this country, with at least some of the number, an inter- 
 course which I found so gratifying in their own. 
 
 In externals, the society of Boston differs little from 
 that of New York. There is the same routine of dinners 
 and parties, and in both the scale of expensive luxury 
 seems nearly equal. In Boston, however, there is more 
 literature, and this circumstance has proportionally en- 
 larged the range of conversation. An Englishman is a 
 good deal struck in America with the entire absence of 
 books, as article^ of furniture. The remark, however, is 
 not applicable to Boston. There, works of European li- 
 terature, evidently not introduced for the mere purpose 
 of display, are generally to be found, and even the
 
 LADIES OF BOSTON. 131 
 
 drawing-room sometimes assumes the appearance of a 
 library. 
 
 The higher order of the New Englanders offers no ex- 
 ception to that grave solemnity of aspect, which is the 
 badge of all their tribe. The gentlemen are more given 
 than is elsewhere usual, to the discussion of abstract po- 
 lemics, both in literature and religion. There is a moral 
 pugnacity about them, which is not offensive, because it 
 is never productive of any thing like wrangling, and is 
 qualified by a very large measure of philosophical tole- 
 rance. The well-informed Bostonian is a calm and deli- 
 berative being. His decision, on any point, may be in- 
 fluenced by interest, but not by passion. He is rarely 
 contented, like the inhabitants of other states, with taking 
 the plain and broad features of a case: he enters into all 
 the refinements of which the subject is capable, discrimi- 
 nates between the plausible and the true, establishes the 
 precise limits of fact and probability, and with unerring 
 accuracy fixes on the weak point in the argument of his 
 opponent. Of all men he is the least liable, I should ima- 
 gine, to be misled by any general assertion of abstract 
 principle. He uniformly carries into the business of com- 
 mon life a certain practical good sense, and never for a 
 moment loses sight of the results of experience. In poli- 
 tics he will not consent to go the whole hog, or, in other 
 words, to hazard a certain amount of present benefit, for 
 the promise, however confident, of new and untried ad- 
 vantages. 
 
 Of the ladies of Boston I did not see much, and can, 
 therefore, only speak in doubtful terms of the amount of 
 their attractions. Unfortunately, it is still less the fashion, 
 than at New York, to enliven the dinner-table with their 
 presence, and, during my stay, I was only present at one 
 ball. But the impression I received was certainly very 
 favourable. These fair New Englanders partake of the 
 endemic gravity of expression, which sits well on them, 
 because it is natural. In amount of acquirement, I believe 
 they are very superior to any other ladies of the Union. 
 They talk well and gracefully of novels and poetry, are 
 accomplished in music and the living languages, and 
 though the New York ladies charge them with being 
 dowdyish in dress, I am not sure that their taste in this
 
 132 FONDNESS FOR TITLE. 
 
 respect is not purer, as it certainly is more simple, than 
 that of their fair accusers. 
 
 The habits of the Bostoriians are, I believe, more do- 
 mestic than is common in the other cities of the Union. 
 The taste for reading contributes to this, by rendering 
 both families and individuals less dependent on society. 
 A strong aristocratic feeling is apparent in the families of 
 older standing. The walls of the apartments are often 
 covered with the portraits of their ancestors, armorial 
 bearings are in general use, and antiquity of blood is no 
 less valued here than in England. The people, too, dis- 
 play a fondness for title somewhat at variance with their 
 good sense in other matters. The governor of Massachu- 
 setts receives the title of Excellency. The President of 
 the United States claims no such honour. The members 
 of the Federal Senate are addressed generally, in the 
 northern states, with the prefixture of Honourable, but 
 the New Englanders go farther, and extend the same 
 distinction to the whole body of representatives, a prac- 
 tice followed in no other part of the Union. 
 
 Such trifles often afford considerable insight to the real 
 feelings of a people. No where are mere nominal dis- 
 tinctions at so high a premium as in this republican coun- 
 try. Military titles are caught at with an avidity, which 
 to an Englishman appears absolutely ridiculous. The 
 anomaly of learned majors at the bar addressing learned 
 colonels or generals on the bench is not uncommon, and 
 as the privates of militia enjoy the privilege of electing 
 their officers, of course the principle of choice is by no 
 means the possession of military knowledge. In a thinly- 
 peopled country, where candidates of a better class are 
 not to be had, it must often happen, that the highest mi- 
 litary rank is bestowed on men of the very lowest station 
 in society. This circumstance, it might be expected, 
 would bring this class of honours into disrepute, and that, 
 like the title of knight-bachelor in England, they would 
 be avoided by the better order of citizens. This, how- 
 ever, is by no means the case. Generals, colonels, and 
 majors, swarm all over the Union, and the titular dis- 
 tinction is equally coveted by the President and the se- 
 nator, the judge on the bench and the innkeeper at the 
 bar.
 
 POLITICAL SENTIMENTS. 133 
 
 There is far more English feeling in Boston than I was 
 prepared to expect. The people yet feel pride in the 
 country of their forefathers, and even retain somewhat of 
 reverence for her ancient institutions. At the period of 
 my visit, the topic of Parliamentary Reform was naturally 
 one of peculiar interest The revolution in France had 
 communicated a strong impulse to opinion in England, 
 and the policy to be adopted by the ministry in regard to 
 this great question, was yet unknown. The subject, 
 therefore, in all its bearings, was very frequently dis- 
 cussed in the society of Boston. It was one on which I 
 had anticipated little difference of opinion among the ci- 
 tizens' of a republic. Admitting that their best wishes 
 were in favour of the prosperity of Britain, and the sta- 
 bility of her constitution, 1 expected that their judgment 
 would necessarily point to great and immediate changes 
 in a monarchy confessedly not free from abuse. For my- 
 self, though considered, I believe, as something of a Ra- 
 dical at home, I had come to the United States prepared 
 to bear the imputation of Toryism among a people whose 
 ideas of liberty were carried so much farther than my 
 own. 
 
 In all these anticipations I was mistaken. Strange to 
 say, I found myself quite as much a Radical in Boston, 
 and very nearly as much so in New York, as I had been 
 considered in England. It was soon apparent that the 
 great majority of the more enlightened class in both ci- 
 ties, regarded any great and sudden change in the Bri- 
 tish institutions as pregnant with the most imminent dan- 
 ger. In their eyes the chance of ultimate advantage was 
 utterly insignificant, when weighed against the certainty 
 of immediate peril. " You at present," they said, " en- 
 joy more practical freedom than has ever in the whole 
 experience of mankind been permanently secured to a 
 nation by any institutions. Your government, whatever 
 may be its defects, enjoys at least this inestimable advan- 
 tage, that the habits of the people are adapted to it. This 
 cannot be the case in regard to any change, however 
 calculated to be ultimately beneficial. The process of 
 moral adaptation is ever slow and precarious, and the 
 experience of the world demonstrates that it is far better 
 that the intelligence of a people should be in advance of
 
 ,J34 POLITICAL SENTIMENTS. 
 
 their institutions, than that the institutions should precede 
 the advancement of the people. In the former case, 
 however theoretically bad, their laws will be practically 
 modified by the influence of public opinion; in the latter, 
 however good in themselves, they cannot be secure or 
 beneficial in their operation. We speak as men whose 
 opinions have been formed from experience, under a go- 
 vernment, popular in the widest sense of the term. As 
 friends, we caution you to beware. We pretend not to 
 judge whether change be necessary. If it be, we trust it 
 will at least be gradual; that your statesmen will ap- 
 proach the work of reform, with the full knowledge that 
 every single innovation will occasion the necessity of 
 many. The appetite for change in a people grows with 
 what it feeds on. It is insatiable. Go as far as you will, 
 at some point you must stop, and that point will be short 
 of the wish of a large portion probably of a numerical 
 majority of your population. By no concession does it 
 appear to us that you can avert the battle that awaits 
 you. You have but the choice whether the great struggle 
 shall be for reform or property." 
 
 I own I was a good deal surprised by the prevalence 
 of such opinions among the only class of Americans whose 
 judgment as to matters of government, could be supposed 
 of much value. As it was my object to acquire as much 
 knowledge as possible with regard to the real working of 
 the American constitution on the habits and feelings of 
 the people: I was always glad to listen to political dis- 
 cussion between enlightened disputants. This carried 
 with it at least the advantage of affording an indication 
 to the prevailing tone of thought and opinion, in a condi- 
 tion of society altogether different from any within the 
 range of European experience. At present I have only 
 alluded to the subject of politics at all, as illustrative of a 
 peculiar feature in the New England character. At a 
 future period, I shall have occasion to view the subject 
 under a different aspect. 
 
 The comparative diffusion of literature in Boston, has 
 brought with it a taste for the fine arts. The better 
 houses are adorned with pictures : and in the Athenasum 
 a public library and reading-room is a collection of 
 ea^ts from the antique. Establishments for the instruc-
 
 ARTISTS. 135 
 
 tion of the people in the higher branches of knowledge, 
 are yet almost unknown in the United States, but some- 
 thing like a Mechanics' Institute has at length been got 
 up in Boston, and 1 went to hear the introductory lecture. 
 The apartment,^, large one, was crowded by an audi- 
 ence whose appearance and deportment were in the 
 highest degree orderly and respectable. The lecture was 
 on the steam-engine, the history, principle, and construc- 
 tion of which were explained most lucidly by a lecturer, 
 wha belonged, I was assured, to- the class of operative 
 mechanics* 
 
 Boston can boast having produced some eminent ar- 
 tists, at the head of whom is Mr. Alston, a painter, con- 
 fessedly of fine taste, if not of high genius. His taste, 
 however, unfortunately renders him too fastidious a cri- 
 tic on his own performances, and he has now been up- 
 wards of ten years in painting an historical subject, 
 which is yet unfinished. This surely is mere waste of 
 life and labour. Where a poet or painter has a strong 
 grasp of his subject he finds no difficulty in imbodying 
 his conceptions. The idea which requires years of foster- 
 ing, and must be cherished and cockered into life, is sel- 
 dom worth the cost of its nurture. Mr. Alston should 
 remember that a tree is judged by the quantity as well 
 as by the quality of its fruit. Had Raphael, Rubens, or 
 Titian, adopted such a process of elaboration, how many 
 of the noblest specimens of art would have been lost to 
 the world! 
 
 I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with Mr. 
 Harding, a painter of much talent, and very considera- 
 ble genius. His history is a singular one. During the 
 last war with Great Britain, he was a private soldier, and 
 fought in many of the battles on the frontier. At the 
 return of peace, he exchanged the sword for the pallet, 
 and without instruction of any kind, attained to such ex- 
 cellence, that his pictures attracted much notice, and 
 some little encouragement. But America affords no 
 field for the higher walks of art, and Harding, with pow- 
 ers of the first order, and an unbounded enthusiasm for his 
 profession, is not likely, I fear, to be appreciated as he 
 deserves. Some years ago he visited England, where 
 his talents were fast rising into celebrity, but the strength
 
 136 MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. 
 
 of the amor patriae unfortunately determined him to 
 return to his native land. I say unfortunately, because 
 in England he could scarcely have failed of attaining 
 both wider fame, and more liberal remuneration, than 
 can well be expected in America. Thfi modesty of this 
 artist is no less remarkable than his genius. He uni- 
 formly judges his own performances by the highest stan- 
 dard of criticism, and is far rather disposed to exaggerate 
 than extenuate their defects. Such a character of mind 
 holds out high hopes of future achievement. In truth, 
 even now, he is deficient in nothing, but a certain soft- 
 ness and finish, which time and a little practice will un- 
 doubtedly supply. 
 
 The better society of Boston, I imagine, is somewhat 
 more exclusive than that of New York. Both pride of 
 family, and pride of knowledge, contribute to this, though 
 there is no public or apparent assertion of either. It is 
 the custom on every Sunday evening for the different 
 branches of a family to assemble at the house of one or 
 other of its members. This generally produces a very 
 social and agreeable party, and though a stranger, I was 
 sometimes hospitably permitted to join the circle. It 
 certainly at first appeared rather singular, that the Bos- 
 tonians, who are strict observers of the Sabbath, should 
 select that day for any festive celebration, however in- 
 nocent. I learned, however, that on the literal inter- 
 pretation of the assertion in Genesis, that, "the evening 
 and the morning were the first day," the Sabbath is not 
 observed, as with us, from midnight to midnight, but 
 from sunset to sunset. In conformity with this doctrine, 
 the shops are generally closed at twilight on Saturday 
 evening, and all business is suspended. Of course, after 
 sunset on the day following, they consider themselves 
 discharged from farther religious observance, and the 
 evening is generally devoted to social intercourse. 
 
 Having passed nearly three weeks in Boston, it be- 
 came necessary that I should direct my steps to the 
 southward. I determined to return to New York by 
 land, being anxious to see something of the country, and 
 more than I had yet done of its inhabitants. The fes- 
 tivities of Christmas, therefore, were no sooner over, 
 than I quitted Boston, with sentiments of deep gratitude
 
 DEPARTURE FROM BOSTON. 137 
 
 for a kindness, which, from the hour of my arrival, to 
 that of my departure, had continued unbroken. 
 
 I have already described an American stage-coach. 
 The one in which I now travelled, though distinguished 
 by the title of ."mail-stage," could boast no peculiar 
 attraction. It was old and rickety, and the stuffing of 
 the cushions had become so conglomerated into hard and 
 irregular masses, as to impress the passengers with the 
 conviction of being seated on a bag of pebbles. Fortu- 
 nately it was not crowded, and the road, though rough, 
 was at least better than that on which I had been jolted 
 on my journey from Providence. It was one o'clock 
 before we got fairly under way, and it is scarcely possi- 
 ble, I imagine, for a journey to commence under gloomier 
 auguries. The weather was most dismal. The wind 
 roared loudly among the branches of the leafless trees, 
 and beat occasionally against the carriage in gusts so vi- 
 olent, as to threaten its overthrow. At length the clouds 
 opened, and down came a storm of snow, which, in a 
 few minutes, had covered the whole surface of the coun- 
 try, as with a winding-sheet. 
 
 The first night we slept at Worcester, a town contain- 
 ing about three thousand inhabitants, which the guide- 
 book declares to contain a bank, four printing-offices, a 
 court-house, and a jail, assertions which I can pretend 
 neither to corroborate nor deny. Its appearance, how- 
 ever, as I observed on the following morning, was far 
 from unprepossessing; the. streets were clean, and round 
 the town stood neat. and pretty-looking villas, which 
 might have been still prettier, had they displayed less 
 gaudy and tasteless decoration. 
 
 As the county court, or some other, was then sit- 
 ting, the inn was crowded with lawyers and their clients, 
 at least fifty of whom already occupied the public salon, 
 which was certainly not more than twenty feet square. 
 The passengers were left to scramble out of the coach as 
 they best could in the dark, and afterwards to explore 
 their way without the smallest notice, beyond that of a 
 broad stare from the master of the house. On entering 
 the room, I stood for some time, in the hope that a party 
 who engrossed the whole fire, would compassionate our 
 half-frozen condition, and invite our approach. Nothing, 
 
 18
 
 138 NEW ENGLAND INN. 
 
 however, was farther from their thoughts than such be- 
 nevolence. "Friend, did you come by the stage?" 
 asked a man immediately in my front, "I guess you 
 found it tarnation cold." I assured him his conjecture 
 was quite correct, but the reply had not the effect of in- 
 ducing any relaxation of the blockade. I soon observed, 
 however, that my fellow-travellers elbowed their way 
 without ceremony, and by adopting Rodney's manoeuvre 
 of cutting the line, had already gained a comfortable po- 
 sition in rear of the cordon. I therefore did not hesi- 
 tate to follow their example, and pushing resolutely for- 
 ward, at length enjoyed the sight and warmth of the 
 blazing embers. 
 
 In about half an hour, the ringing of a bell gave wel- 
 come signal of supper, and, accompanying my fellow- 
 passengers to the eating-room, we found a plentiful meal 
 awaiting our appearance. On the score of fare, there 
 was certainly no cause of complaint. There were dishes 
 of beef-steaks which, in this country, are generally 
 about half the size of a newspaper, broiled fowl, ham, 
 cold turkey, toast not made in the English fashion, but 
 boiled in melted butter, a kind of crumpet called waf- 
 fles, &c, &c. The tea and coffee were poured out and 
 handed by a girl with long ringlets and ear-rings, not re- 
 markable for neatness of apparel, and who remained 
 seated, unless when actually engaged in the discharge of 
 her functions. Nothing could exceed the gravity of her 
 expression and deportment, and there was an air of cool 
 indifference about her mode of ministering to the wants 
 of the guests, which was certainly far from prepossess- 
 ing. This New England Hebe, however, was good- 
 looking, and, with the addition of a smile, would have 
 been pleasing. 
 
 Having concluded the meal, I amused myself on our 
 return to the public room, by making observations on the 
 company. The clamour of Babel could not have been 
 much worse than that which filled the apartment. I at- 
 tempted to discriminate between lawyer and client, but 
 the task was not easy. There was in both the same 
 keen and callous expression of worldly anxiety; the 
 same cold selfishness of look and manner. The scene 
 altogether was not agreeable; many of the company were
 
 NEW ENGLAND INN. 130 
 
 without shoes, others without a cravat, and, compared 
 with people of the same class in England, they were 
 dirty both in habit and person. It is always unpleasant 
 to mingle in a crowd, with the consciousness that you 
 have no sympathy or fellow-feeling with the individuals 
 that compose it. I, therefore, soon desisted from my 
 task of observation, and, having fully digested the con- 
 tents of a Worcester newspaper, determined on retiring 
 for the night. 
 
 The process in England, in such circumstances, is to 
 ring for the chamber-maid, ' but, in America, there are no 
 bells, and no chamber-maids. You therefore walk to 
 the bar, and solicit the favour of being supplied with a 
 candle, a request which is ultimately, though by no 
 means immediately, complied with. You then explore 
 the way to your apartment unassisted, and with about 
 the same chance of success as the enterprising Parry in 
 his hunt after the northwest passage. Your number is 63, 
 but, in what part of the mansion that number is to be 
 found, you are, of course, without the means of proba- 
 ble conjecture. Let it be supposed, however, that you 
 are more fortunate than Captain Parry, and at length dis- 
 cover the object of your search. If you are an English- 
 man, and too young to have roughed it under Welling- 
 ton, you are, probably, what, in this country, is called 
 "mighty particular," rejoice in a couple of comfortable 
 pillows, to say nothing of a lurking prejudice in favour 
 of multiplicity of blankets, especially with the thermo- 
 meter some fifty degrees below the freezing point. Such 
 luxuries, however, it is ten to one, you will not find in 
 the uncurtained crib in which you are destined to pass 
 the night. Your first impulse, therefore, is to walk 
 down stairs and make known your wants to the land- 
 lord. This is a mistake. Have nothing to say to him. 
 You may rely on it, he is much too busy to have any 
 time to throw away in humouring the whimsies of a fo- 
 reigner; and, should it happen, as it does sometimes in 
 the New England states, that the establishment is com- 
 posed of natives, your chance of a comfortable sleep for 
 the nigtjt, is about as great as that of your gaining the 
 Thirty Thousand pound prize in the lottery. But, if 
 there are black, and, still better, if there are Irish ser-
 
 140 JOURNEY TO SPRINGFIELD. 
 
 vants, your prospect of comfort is wonderfully im- 
 proved. A douceur, judiciously administered, generally 
 does the business, and when you at length recline after 
 the fatigues of the day, you find your head has acquired 
 at least six inches additional elevation, and the superin- 
 cumbent weight of woollen has been largely augmented. 
 
 It was at Worcester that I received this most useful 
 information. Being in want of the above mentioned ac- 
 commodations, I deputed my servant to make an hum- 
 ble representation of my necessities to the landlord. 
 The flinty heart of Boniface, however, was not to be 
 moved. The young lady with the ringlets and ear-rings 
 was no less inexorable, but, luckily for me, a coloured 
 waiter was not proof against the eloquence of a quarter 
 dollar. In five jminutes the articles were produced, and, 
 as sailors say, "1 tumbled in" for the night, with a rea- 
 sonable prospect of warmth and comfort. 
 
 After a good breakfast on the following morning, I 
 felt again fortified for the perils and disagreeables of the 
 mail-stage. Mr. Harding, to whose merits as an artist I 
 have already alluded, was, fortunately, a fellow-passen- 
 ger, being on his way to join his family at Springfield. 
 The only other passenger was a young lady, with an 
 enormous band-box on her knee, to whom Mr. Harding 
 introduced me. There was something in this fair dam- 
 sel and her band-box peculiarly interesting. She sat 
 immediately opposite to me, but nothing of her face or 
 person was visible, except a forehead, a few dark ring- 
 lets, and a pair of the most beautiful eyes in the world ; 
 which, like the sun just peeping above the horizon, sent 
 the brightest flashes imaginable, along the upper level of 
 this Brobdignag of a band-box. 
 
 The snow had continued to fall during the night, and 
 the jolting, of the "mail-stage" was, certainly, any thing, 
 but agreeable. When out of humour, however, by the 
 united influence of the weather and the road, I had only 
 to direct a single glance towards the beautiful orbs scin- 
 tillating in my front, to be restored to equanimity. 
 When any thing at all jocular was said, one could read 
 a radiant laughter in this expressive feature, though her 
 lips gave utterance to no sound of merriment. For 
 about five hours the fair oculist continued our fellow-
 
 ARRIVAL AT SPRINGFIELD. 141 
 
 traveller, and I had at length come to think of her as 
 some fantastic and preternatural creation; such a being 
 as one sometimes reads of in a German romance, half 
 band-box, and half eye. 
 
 At length she left the coach. When her band-box 
 was about to be removed from its position, I remember 
 averting my face, lest a view of her countenance might 
 destroy the fanciful interest she had excited. She de- 
 parted, therefore, unseen; but those eyes will live in my 
 memory, long after all record of her fellow-traveller 
 shall have faded from hers. 
 
 After her departure, Harding told me her story; she 
 was a young lady of respectable connexions, and, with 
 the consent of her family, had become engaged to a 
 young man, who afterwards proved false to his vows, 
 and married a wealthier bride. She had suffered severe- 
 ly tinder this disappointment, and was then going on a 
 visit to her aunt at Northampton, in the hope that change 
 of scene might contribute to the restoration of her tran- 
 quillity. That this result would follow I have no doubt. 
 Those eyes were too laughing and brilliant, to belong 
 permanently to a languishing and broken-hearted mai- 
 den. 
 
 We dined at a tolerable inn, and proceeded on our jour- 
 ney. The snow had ceased; there was a bright sun* 
 above, but I never remember to have felt the cold so in- 
 tense. It was late before we reached Springfield, where 
 I had determined on making a day's halt. The inn was 
 comfortable, and I succeeded in procuring private apart- 
 ments. On the following morning I took a ramble over 
 the village, which is by far the gayest I had yet seen in 
 the course of my tour. It abounds with white frame- 
 work villas, with green Venetian blinds, and porticoes 1 
 of Corinthian or Ionic columns sadly out of proportion. 
 It appears to me, however, that massive columns and 
 columns not apparently massive, at least, must be ab- 
 surd are sadly out of place when attached to a wooden 
 building. When such fragile materials are employed, 
 lightness should be the chief object of the architect, but 
 these transatlantic Palladios seem to despise the anti- 
 quated notions of fitness and proportion which prevail 
 in other parts of the world. They heap tawdry orna-
 
 142 FEATURES OF THE COUNTRY. 
 
 ment upon their gingerbread creations, and you enter a 
 paltry clapboard cottage, through, what is at least meant 
 for, a splendid colonnade. 
 
 In the country through which I passed, the houses are 
 nearly all of the class which may be called comfortable. 
 The general scenery, at a more favourable season, I 
 can easily conceive to be pretty. The chief defect is 
 the utter flimsiness of the houses, and the glaring effect 
 arising from the too profuse use of the paint-brush. They 
 are, evidently, not calculated to last above fifteen or 
 twenty years, and this extreme fragility renders more 
 glaring the absurdity of that profusion of gewgaw deco- 
 ration in which the richer inhabitants delight to indulge. 
 
 The country is too new for a landscape painter. With 
 variety of surface, and abundance of wood and water, an 
 artist will certainly find many scenes worthy of his pen- 
 cil, but the worm fences, and the freshness and regularity 
 of the houses, are sadly destructive of the picturesque. 
 Had the buildings been of more enduring materials, time, 
 the beautifier, would have gradually mellowed down their 
 hardness of outline, and diminished the unpleasant con- 
 trast which is here so obtrusively apparent between the 
 works of man and those of nature. But at present there 
 is no chance of this. Each generation builds for itself, 
 and even the human frame is less perishable than the 
 ricketty and flimsy structures erected for its comfort. 
 
 The advantages of a country, however, are not to be 
 measured by the degree of gratification it may administer 
 to the taste or imagination of a traveller. Where plenty 
 is in the cottage, it matters but little what figure it may 
 make on the canvass of the painter. 1 have travelled in 
 many countries, but assuredly never in any, where the 
 materials of happiness were so widely and plentifully dif- 
 fused as in these New England States. And yet the peo- 
 ple are not happy, or if they be, there is no faith in La- 
 vater. Never have I seen countenances so furrowed by 
 care, as those of this favoured people. Both soul and body 
 appear to have been withered up by the anxieties of life; 
 and with all the appliances of enjoyment within their 
 reach, it seems as if some strange curse had gone forth 
 against them, which said, " Ye shall not enjoy." One 
 looks in vain here for the ruddy and jovial faces which,
 
 PILGRIM FATHERS. 143 
 
 in England, meet us on every hand. The full, broad, 
 and muscular frame; the bold serenity of aspect; the 
 smile, the laugh, the song, the dance, let not a traveller 
 seek these, or any indications of a light heart and con- 
 tented spirit in the New England States. 
 
 Let me not, however, be misunderstood. The distinc- 
 tion I would draw is simply this. The Englishman has 
 the inclination to be happy, though not always the means 
 of happiness at command. The New Englander, with a 
 thousand blessings, is deficient in what outvalues them all, 
 the disposition to enjoyment. He is inter opes inops. 
 
 Something of this misfortune, 1 have no doubt, is attri- 
 butable to climate, but 1 cannot help believing it, in a 
 great degree, hereditary. The pilgrim fathers were cer- 
 tainly not men of a very enviable temperament. Full of 
 spiritual pride, needy, bigoted, superstitious, ignorant, and 
 despising knowledge, intolerant, fleeing from persecution 
 in the Old World, and yet bringing it with them to the 
 New ; such were the men to whom this people may trace 
 many of their peculiarities. That they were distinguished 
 by some of these qualities, was their misfortune ; that they 
 were marked by others, was their crime. They and their 
 descendants spread through the wilderness, and solitude 
 had not the effect of softening the asperities of faith or feel- 
 ing. The spirit of social dependence became broken ; and 
 as ages passed on, and the increase of population, and the 
 pursuits of ga4n, induced them to collect in masses ; the 
 towns and villages became peopled with men of solitary 
 habits, relying on their own resources, and associating 
 only for the purposes of gain. Such, doubtless, the New 
 Englanders were ; and such they are now, to the observa- 
 tion of a stranger, who is conscious of no temptation to 
 misrepresent them. 
 
 The character of the New Englanders is a subject on 
 which, I confess, I feel tempted to be prolix. In truth, it 
 seems to me so singular and anomalous, so compounded of 
 what is valuable and what is vile, that I never feel cer- 
 tain of having succeeded in expressing the precise combi- 
 nation of feeling which it inspires. As a philanthropist, I 
 should wish them to be less grasping and more contented 
 with the blessings they enjoy, and would willingly barter 
 a. good deal of vanity, and a little substantial knavery, for
 
 144 UNITED STATES ARMY. 
 
 an additional infusion of liberal sentiment, and generous 
 feeling. 
 
 Springfield is the seat of one of the chief arsenals and 
 manufactories of arms in the United States. An officer 
 of artillery was good enough to conduct me over these. 
 Every thing seemed well managed, and the machinery at 
 all points very complete. About twelve or thirteen thou- 
 sand muskets are produced annually. My conductor was 
 a particularly well-informed and obliging person, who had 
 lately returned from Europe, where he had been sent to 
 receive instruction in regard to the recent improvements 
 ,in gunnery. 
 
 The officers of the United States army are better paid 
 than the English. A captain receives about 400 a-year, 
 or about 100 more than a lieutenant-colonel in our ser- 
 vice. But there is this difference between the British 
 army and that of the United States ; no one can enter the 
 latter for pleasure, or to enjoy the enviable privilege of 
 wearing an epaulet and an embroidered coat. The ser- 
 vice is one of real and almost constant privation. The 
 troops are scattered about in forts and garrisons in re- 
 mote and unhealthy situations, and are never quartered, 
 as with us, in the great cities. The principal stations 
 are on the Canadian and Indian frontiers, and on the 
 Mississippi; and 1 imagine the sort of life they lead there 
 would not be greatly relished by his Majesty's Coldstrcam 
 Guards or the Blues. I confess I was rather surprised at 
 the smallness of the United States army. It amounts only 
 to 6000 men, including all arms, and I was certainly not 
 less astonished at the enormous proportion of desertions, 
 which are not less than 1000 annually, or one-sixth of the 
 whole numbers. Desertions in the British army do not 
 exceed one in a hundred. 
 
 On the following day the snow was so deep as to ren- 
 der the road impassable for coaches, so with the thermo- 
 meter fifteen degrees below zero, 1 took a sleigh for Hart- 
 ford, where, after a journey of five hours, we were de- 
 posited in safety. Hartford is a small and apparently a 
 very busy town on the Connecticut river. It is rather re- 
 markable as being the seat of the celebrated convention, 
 which, during the late war with Britain, threatened the 
 dissolution of the Union.
 
 CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE. 145 
 
 I slept at Hartford. The inn was dirty, but this disad- 
 vantage was more than counterbalanced by its possession 
 of an Irish waiter, to whom nothing was impossible, and 
 who bustled about in my behalf with an activity and 
 good-will which fortunately it was not difficult to repay. 
 The stage for New Haven did not start till late on the 
 following day, and I had all the morning on my hands. 
 What to make of it I did not know; so I wandered about 
 the town, saw the College and the New Exchange Build- 
 ings, and a church, and a jail, and a school, and the Char- 
 ter Oak, and peeped into all the shops, and then returned 
 to the inn with the assured conviction that Hartford is 
 one of the stupidest places on the surface of the globe. I 
 may as well, however, relate a circumstance which hap'- 
 pened here, since it may perhaps throw some light on the 
 New England character. 
 
 I had returned from my ramble, and was sitting near 
 the stove in the public room, engaged in the dullest of all 
 tasks, reading an American newspaper, when a woman 
 and a girl, about ten years old, entered, cold and shiver- 
 ing, having just been discharged from a Boston stage- 
 coach. The woman was respectable in appearance, ra- 
 ther good-looking, and evidently belonging to what may 
 in this country be called the middling class of society. 
 She immediately inquired at what hour the steam-boat 
 set off for New York, and, on learning that owing to the 
 river being frozen up, it started from New Haven some 
 thirty miles lower, she was evidently much discomposed, 
 and informed the landlord, that calculating on meeting 
 the steam-boat that morning at Hartford, her pocket was 
 quite unprepared for the expense of a farther land jour- 
 ney, and the charges of different sorts necessarily occa- 
 sioned by a day's delay on the road. 
 
 The landlord shrugged up his shoulders aiuKvalked off; 
 the Irish waiter looked at her with something of a quiz- 
 zical aspect, and an elderly gentleman engaged like my- 
 self in reading a newspaper, raised his eyes for a moment, 
 discharged his saliva on the carpet, and then resumed his 
 occupation. Though evidently without a willing audi- 
 ence, the woman continued her complaints; informed us 
 she had left her husband in Boston to visit her brother in 
 New York ; explained and re-explained the cause of her 
 
 19
 
 146 CHARACTERISTIC ANECDOTE. 
 
 rnisfprtune, and a dozen times at least concluded by an 
 assurance, of the truth of which the whole party were 
 quite satisfied, that she was sadly puzzled what to do. 
 
 In such circumstances, I know not whether it was be- 
 nevolence, or a desire to put a stop to her detestable ite- 
 ration, or a mingled motive compounded of both, that 
 prompted me to offer to supply her with any money she 
 might require. However, I did so, and the offer, though 
 not absolutely refused, was certainly very ungraciously 
 received. She stared at me, expressed no thanks, and 
 again commenced the detail of her grievances, of which, 
 repetition had something staled the infinite variety. I 
 therefore left the apartment. Shortly after the sleigh for 
 New Haven drove up, and I had entirely forgotten the 
 amiable sufferer and her pecuniary affliction, when she 
 came up, and said, without any expression of civility, 
 " You offered me money, I'll take it." I asked how much 
 she wished. She answered, sixteen dollars, which I im- 
 mediately ordered my servant to give her. Being a 
 Scotchman, however, he took the prudent precaution of 
 requesting her address in New York, and received a pro- 
 mise that the amount of her debt should be transmitted 
 to Bunker's on the following day. 
 
 Weeks passed after my arrival in New York, and T 
 heard no more either of the dollars or my fellow travel- 
 ler, and being curious to know whether I had been cheat- 
 ed, I at length sent to demand repayment. My servant 
 came back with the money. He had seen the woman, 
 who expressed neither thanks nor gratitude; and on be- 
 ing asked why she had violated her promise to discharge 
 the debt, answered that she could npt be at the trouble 
 of sending the money, for she supposed it was my business 
 to ask for it. It should be added, that the house in which 
 she resided, was that of her brother, a respectable shop- 
 keeper in one of the best streets in New York, whose 
 establishment certainly betrayed no indication of po- 
 verty. 
 
 The truth is, that the woman was very far from being 
 a swindler. She was only a Yankee, and troubled with 
 an indisposition somewhat endemic in New England 
 to pay money. She thought, perhaps, that a man who 
 had been so imprudent as to lend to a stranger, might be
 
 JOURNEY TO NEW YORK. 147 
 
 so negligent as to forget to demand repayment. The ser- 
 vant might have lost her address; in short, it was better 
 to take the chances, however small, of ultimately keep- 
 ing the money, than to restore it unasked. All this might 
 be very sagacious, but it certainly was nbt very high- 
 principled or very honest. 
 
 It was late before we reached New Haven, and the 
 greater part of the journey was performed in the dark. 
 The inn was so crowded, that the landlord told me fairly 
 he could not give me a bed. I then requested a sofa arid 
 a blanket, but with no greater success. However, he 
 proved better than his wot d: I was shown to sort 6f 
 dog-hole without plaster, which I verily believe was the 
 dormitory of the black waiter, who was displaced on my 
 account. The smell of the bed was most offensive, the 
 sheets were dirty, and the coverlet had the appearance of 
 an old horse-cloth. The only other furniture in the apart- 
 ment was a table and a wooden chair; no glass, no wash- 
 ing-stand, no towels. These articles were promised in 
 the morning, but they never came, though most impor- 
 tunately demanded. The heat of the crowded sitting- 
 room was intense ; the temperature of the bed-room vyas 
 in the opposite extreme. At length, driven from the for- 
 mer, I wrapped myself in my cloak, and sought slumber 
 on the filthy mass of flock from which its usual sable oc- 
 cupant had been expelled; 
 
 Cold weather and strong odours are not favourable to 
 sleep. In about two hours I arose, and exploring my 
 way to the sitting-room, now untenanted, passed the rest 
 of the night in a chair by the fire. The steam-boat was 
 to start at five in the morning, and at half-past four se- 
 veral coaches drove up to convey the passengers to the 
 quay. I saw nothing of New Haven, and its associations 
 in my memory are certairily far from pleasant. It was 
 with satisfaction I reached the steamboat, and bade fare- 
 well to it for ever. 
 
 The night concluded, however, more fortunately than 
 it commenced. I procured a berth in the steam-boat, 
 and was only roused from a comfortable snoose by the 
 announcement of breakfast, and the clatter of knives and 
 plates which immediately succeeded it. Under such cir- 
 cumstances, I had experience enough to know that no
 
 148 INTELLIGENCE FROM ENGLAND. 
 
 time was to be lost. There is a tide in the affairs of steam- 
 passengers in America, which must be taken at the flood 
 in order to lead either to breakfast or dinner. A minute, 
 therefore, was enough to find me seated at the table, and 
 contributing my strenuous efforts to the work of destruc- 
 tion. Breakfast was succeeded by the still greater luxury 
 of basin and towel, and when I went on deck, a few whiffs 
 of a cigar, and the fine scenery of Long Island Sound, had 
 the effect of obliterating all trace of the disagreeables of 
 the night. 
 
 The voyage was pleasant and prosperous; the weather, 
 though still cold, was clear, and before day closed, I again 
 found myself at New York. 
 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 ON the day after my arrival at New York, the city 
 was thrown into a bustle by the intelligence that a 
 packet from Liverpool had been telegraphed in the offing. 
 Owing to the prevalence of contrary winds, an unusual 
 period had elapsed without an arrival from Europe, and 
 the whole population seemed agog for news. I dined that 
 day with a friend; and as there was no party, and we 
 were both anxious to receive the earliest intelligence, he 
 proposed our walking to the News-room, and afterwards 
 returning to wine and the dessert. On approaching the 
 house, we found some thousands of people collected about 
 the door, and in the window was exhibited a placard of 
 the following import : " Duke of Wellington and Minis- 
 try resigned; Lord Grey, Premier; Brougham, Lord 
 Chancellor," &c. 
 
 It was impossible not to be struck with the extreme 
 interest this intelligence excited. Here and there were 
 groups of quidnuncs engaged in earnest discussion on 
 the consequences of this portentous intelligence. Some 
 anticipated immediate revolution; a sort of second edi-
 
 PUBLIC HALL. 149 
 
 tion of the Three Days of Paris. Others were disposed 
 to think that Revolution, though inevitable, would be 
 more gradual. A third party looked forward to the 
 speedy restoration of the Duke of Wellington to power. 
 But all partook of the pervading excitement, and the 
 sensation produced by these changes in the government, 
 could scarcely have been greater in Liverpool than in 
 New York. 
 
 On the last night of the year there was a public assem- 
 bly, to which I received the honour of an invitation. 
 The ball-rooms were very tolerable, but the entrance 
 detestable. It led close past the bar of the City Hotel, 
 and the ladies, in ascending the stair, which, by the by, 
 was offensively dirty, must have been drenched with to- 
 bacco-smoke. Within, however, I found assembled a 
 great deal of beauty. At seventeen, nothing can be 
 prettier than a smiling damsel of New York. At twen- 
 ty-two, the same damsel, metamorphosed into a matron, 
 has lost a good deal of her attraction. I had never been in 
 so large and miscellaneous a party before. I looked 
 about for solecisms of deportment, but could detect none 
 on the part of the ladies. There was, however, a sort 
 of Transatlanticism about them; and even their numerous 
 points of resemblance to my fair countrywomen, had the 
 effect of marking out certain shadowy differences, to be 
 felt rather than described. 
 
 There was certainly an entire absence of what the 
 French call Vair noble, of that look of mingled ele- 
 gance and distinction which commands admiration ra- 
 ther than solicits it. Yet the New York ladies are not 
 vulgar. Far from it. I mean only to say that they are' 
 not precisely European; and with the possession of sa 
 much that is amiable and attractive, they may safely 
 plead guilty to want of absolute conformity to an arbi- 
 trary standard, the authority of which they are not 
 bound to acknowledge. 
 
 But what shall be said of the gentlemen? Why, sim- 
 ply that a party of the new police, furnished forth with 
 the requisite toggery, would have played their part in 
 the ball-room, with about as much grace. There is a 
 certain uncontrollable rigidity of muscle about an Ame- 
 rican, and a want of sensibility to the lighter graces of
 
 AMERICAN DANDiES. 
 
 deportment, which makes him, perhaps, the most un- 
 hopeful of all the votaries of Terpischore. In this re- 
 spect the advantage is altogether on the side of the ladies. 
 Their motions are rarely inelegant, and never grotesque. 
 I leave it to other travellers to extend this praise to the 
 gentlemen. 
 
 An American dandy is a being sui generis. He has 
 probably travelled in Europe, and brought back to his 
 own country, a large stock of second-rate fopperies, rings, 
 trinkets, and gold chains, which he displays, evidently 
 with full confidence in their powers of captivation. For 
 a season after his return he is all the fashion. He sug- 
 gests new improvements in quadrille dancing, artd every 
 flourish of his tde becomes the object of sedulous imita- 
 tion. Tailors wait on him to request the privilege of 
 inspecting his wardrobe. His untravelled companions 
 regard with envy his profusion of jewellery and waist- 
 coats of figured velvet. He talks of " Dukes and Earls, 
 and all their sweeping train; and garters, stars and coro- 
 nets appear " in his conversation, as if such things had 
 been familiar to him from his infancy. In short, he 
 reigns for a time the Magnus Jlpollo of his native town, 
 and his decrees in all matters of taste are received as the 
 oracles of the god. 
 
 But time passes on. The traveller has returned to 
 the vulgar drudgery of the counting-house; his coats, 
 like his affectations, become threadbare, artd are replaced 
 by the more humble productions of native artists; later 
 tourists have been the heralds of newer fashions and fop- 
 peries; his opinions are no longer treated with deference; 
 he sinks to the level of other men, and the vulgar dandy 
 is gradually changed into a plain American citizen, con- 
 tent with the comforts of life; without concerning him- 
 self about its elegancies. 
 
 The ball was very pleasant, and one of its chief agft- 
 mens undoubtedly was an excellent supper. The oyster- 
 soup, a favourite dish in this part of the world, was all 
 that Dr. Kitchiner could have desired. Turkey, ham; 
 terrapin a sort of land crab, on which I have not ven- 
 turedjellies, creams, ices, fruit, hot punch, and cold 
 lemonade, were in profusion. Having afterwards re- 
 mained to witness some badly danced quadrilles, and the
 
 NEW-YEAR'S DAY. 151 
 
 perpetration of the first gallopade ever attempted on the 
 American continent, I returned to take " my pleasure in 
 mine inn." 
 
 It is the custom in New York, on the first day of the 
 year, for the gentlemen to visit all their acquaintances; 
 and the omission of this observance in regard to any par- 
 ticular family, would be considered as a decided slight. 
 The clergy, also, hold a levee on this day, which is at- 
 tended by their congregation. For my own part, I con- 
 fess, I found the custom rather inconvenient, there being 
 about thirty families, whose attentions rendered such an 
 acknowledgment indispensable. Determined, hqwever, 
 to fail in nothing which could mark my sense of the 
 kindness of my friends, I ordered a coach, and set forth, 
 at rather an early hour on this task of visit-paying. 
 
 The first person on whom I waited was Dr. Wainright, 
 the clergyman of Gracechurch, in whose society I had 
 often experienced much pleasure. I found him attired 
 in full canonicals, with a table displaying a profusion of 
 wine and cake, and busied in conversing and shaking 
 hands with his parishioners. Having paid my compli- 
 ments, I proceeded on my progress, and in the course 
 of about four hours had the satisfaction of believing that 
 I had discharged my duty, though not, as I afterwards 
 remembered, without some omissions, which I trust 
 my friends were good enough to forgive. 
 
 The routine is as follows? The ladies of a family re- 
 main at home to receive visits; the gentlemen are abroad, 
 actively engaged in paying them. You enter, shake 
 hands, are seated, talk for a minute or two on the topics 
 of the day, then hurry off as fast as you can. Wine and 
 cake are on the table, of which each visiter is invited ta 
 partake. The custom is of Dutch origin, and, I believe, 
 does not prevail in any other city of the Union. I am 
 told its influence on the social intercourse of families, is 
 very salutary. The first day of the year is considered 
 a day of kindness and reconciliation, on which petty dif- 
 ferences are forgotten, and trifling injuries forgiven. It 
 sometimes happens, that between friends long connected, 
 a misunderstanding takes place. Each is too proud to 
 make concessions, alienation follows, and thus are two, 
 families, very probably, permanently estranged. But;
 
 15a NAVY YARD. 
 
 on this day of annual amnesty, each of the offended par- 
 ties calls on the wife of the other, kind feelings are re- 
 called, past grievances overlooked, and at their next 
 meeting they take each other by the hand, and are again 
 friends. 
 
 In company with a most intelligent and kind friend, 
 who was lately mayor of the city, I visited the Navy 
 yard at Brooklyn. Commodore Chauncey, the com- 
 mander, is a fine specimen of an old sailor of the true 
 breed. He has a good deal of the Benbow about him, 
 and one cai read in his open and weather-beaten coun- 
 tenance, that it has long braved both the battle and the 
 breeze. He took us over several men-of-war, and a fri- 
 gate yet on the stocks, which appeared the most splendid 
 vessel of her class I had ever seen. American men-of- 
 war are built chiefly of live oak, the finest and most du- 
 rable material in the world. 
 
 Every thing in these navy yards is conducted with 
 admirable judgment, for the plain reason, as the Ameri- 
 cans themselves assure me, that the management of the 
 navy is a department in which the mob, every where 
 else triumphant, never venture to interfere. There is 
 good sense in this abstinence. The principles of govern- 
 ment, which are applicable to a civil community, would 
 make sad work in a man-of-war. The moment a sailor 
 is afloat, he must cast the slough of democracy, and both 
 in word and action cease to be a free man. Every ship 
 is necessarily a despotism, and the existence of any thing 
 like a deliberative body, is utterly incompatible with 
 safety. The necessity of blind obedience is imperious, 
 though it is not easy to understand how those accustomed 
 ito liberty and equality on shore, can readily submit to the 
 rigours of naval discipline. 
 
 In the same excellent company I made the round of 
 the most interesting public institutions of the city the 
 House of Refuge for juvenile delinquents, the Deaf and 
 Dumb Asylum, and the Asylum for Lunatics. All are 
 conducted with exemplary judgment, and benevolence 
 exerted with an ardent but enlightened zeal for the gene- 
 ral interests of humanity. The first of these institutions 
 is particularly laudable, both as respects its objects and 
 management. It is an asylum for juvenile offenders of
 
 POLITICAL PARTIES. 153 
 
 both sexes, who, by being thrown into the depraved so- 
 ciety of a common jail, would, in all probability, grow 
 up into hardened and incorrigible criminals. In this in- 
 stitution, they are taught habits of regular industry; are 
 instructed in the principles of religion, and when dis- 
 missed, they enter the world with ample means at com- 
 mand of earning an honest livelihood. 
 
 The girls are generally bred up as sempstresses or do- 
 mestic servants; and on quitting the institution, are uni- 
 formly sent to a part of the country, where their previous 
 history is unknown. By this judicious arrangement, 
 they again start fair, with the full advantage of an un- 
 blemished character. The establishment seemed a per- 
 fect hive of industry. The taste and talent of the boys 
 is consulted in the choice of a trade. There were young 
 carpenters and blacksmiths, tailors and brushmakers, and 
 Lilliputian artificers of various kinds, all busily engaged 
 in their peculiar handicraft. Though looking at the 
 details of the establishment with a critical eye, I could 
 detect no fault in any department. There can be no 
 doubt, I think, that the benevolence to which this insti- 
 tution is indebted for its origin and support, is of the most 
 enlightened kind. 
 
 I have not yet spoken of the political parties in this 
 country, and, in truth, the subject is so complicated with 
 opinions continually varying, and interests peculiar to 
 particular districts, and includes the consideration of so 
 many topics, apparently unconnected with politics alto- 
 gether, that I now enter on it with little expectation of 
 making it completely intelligible to an English reader. 
 Of course, all the world knows that the population of the 
 Union is, or was, divided into two great parties, entitled 
 Federalist and Republican. These terms, however, by 
 no means accurately express the differences which divide 
 them. Both parties are Federalist, and both Republican: 
 but the former favour the policy of granting wider pow- 
 ers to the Federal legislature and executive; of asserting 
 their control over the State governments; of guarding the 
 Constitution against popular encroachment; in short, of 
 strengthening the bonds of public union, and maintaining 
 a presiding power of sufficient force and energy, to over- 
 
 20
 
 154 POLITICAL PARTIES. 
 
 awe turbulence at home, and protect the national honour 
 and interests abroad. 
 
 The Democratic Republican, on the other hand, would 
 -enlarge, to the utmost extent, the political influence of 
 the people. He is in favour of universal suffrage; a de- 
 pendent judiciary; a strict and literal interpretation of 
 the articles of the Constitution, and regards the Union 
 imply as a voluntary league between sovereign and in- 
 dependent States, each of which possesses the inalienable 
 right of deciding on the legality of the measures of the 
 general government. The Federalist, in short, is dis- 
 posed to regard the United States as one and indivisible, 
 and the authority of the United government as paramount 
 to every other jurisdiction. The Democrat considers the 
 Union as a piece of mosaic, tasselated with stones of dif- 
 ferent colours, curiously put together, but possessing no 
 other principle of cohesion than that of mutual conve- 
 nience. The one regards the right of withdrawing from 
 the national confederacy as indefeasible in each of its 
 members; the other denies the existence of such right, 
 and maintains the Federal government to be invested 
 with the power of enforcing its decrees within the limits 
 of the Union. 
 
 During the period succeeding the Revolution, New 
 England, pre-eminent in wealth, population, aod intelli- 
 gence, gave her principles to the Union. The two first 
 presidents were both Federalists, but their political oppo- 
 nents were rapidly increasing both in numbers and viru- 
 lence., and even the services, the high name, and unsul- 
 lied character of Washington, were not sufficient to pro- 
 tect him from the grossest and most slanderous attacks. 
 Adams succeeded him, and certainly did something to 
 merit the imputations which had been gratuitously cast 
 on his predecessor. His sedition law was bad; the pro- 
 secutions under it still worse, and in the very first strug- 
 gle ke was driven from office, to return to it no more. * 
 
 * Carey, in the Olive Branch, mentions a prosecution under this act, 
 in which a New Jersey man was tried and punished for expressing a de- 
 sire, that the wadding of a gun discharged on a festival day, " had singed 
 or otherwise inflicted damage on " a certain inexpressible part of Mr. 
 Adams! After such a prosecution, one is only temp ted to regret that 
 the efficiency of the wish was not equal to its patriotism.
 
 POLITICAL PARTIES. 155 
 
 It is evident that a constitution, however precisely de- 
 fined, must differ in its practical operation, according to 
 the principles on which it is administered. From the 
 period of Jefferson's accession to power, a change in this 
 respect took place. The government was then adminis- 
 tered on democratic principles; a silent revolution was 
 going forward; the principles, opinions, and habits of the 
 people, all tended towards the wider extension of politi- 
 cal rights; and at the conclusion of the war with Eng- 
 land, the Federalists became at length convinced, that 
 the objects for which they had so long strenuously been 
 contending, were utterly unattainable. Farther conten- 
 tion, therefore, was useless. The name of Federalist had 
 become odious to the people; it was heard no more. No 
 candidate for public favour ventured to come forward and 
 declare his conviction, that a government, which looked 
 for support to the prejudices of the populace, was neces- 
 sarily less secure and beneficial than one which repre- 
 sented the deliberate convictions of the wealthier and 
 more enlightened. 
 
 The result of all this was, an apparent harmony of po- 
 litical principle throughout the Union. Open differences 
 of opinion were no longer expressed, as to the broad and 
 fundamental doctrines of government. The ascendancy 
 of numbers, in opposition to that of property and intelli- 
 gence, had been firmly established: the people, in the 
 widest sense of the term, had been recognised as the only 
 source of power and of honour; and the government, 
 instead of attempting to control and regulate the passions 
 and prejudices of the multitude, were forced, by the ne- 
 cessity of their situation, to adopt them as the guide and 
 standard of their policy. They were compelled, in short, 
 to adopt the measures, and profess the principles most 
 palatable to the people, instead of those which wider 
 knowledge and keener sagacity might indicate as most 
 for their advantage. 
 
 I remember one of my first impressions in the United 
 States was that of surprise, at the harmony in regard to 
 the great principles of government, which seemed to per- 
 vade all classes of the community. In every thing con- 
 nected with men and measures, however, all was clamour 
 and confusion. The patriot of one company was the
 
 156 SUPPRESSION OF FEDERALISM. 
 
 scoundrel of the next, and to an uninterested observer, 
 the praise and the abuse seemed both to rest on a foun- 
 dation too narrow to afford support to such disproportion- 
 ate superstructures. Parties there evidently were, but it 
 was not easy to become master of the distinctions on 
 which they rested. I asked for the Federalists, and was 
 told that like the mammoth, and the megatherion, they 
 had become extinct, and their principles delighted hu- 
 manity no longer. I asked for the Democrats, and I was 
 desired to look on the countenance of every man I met 
 in the street. This puzzled me, for the principles of 
 this exploded party, appeared, in my deliberate convic- 
 tion, to be those most in accordance with political wis- 
 dom, and I had little faith in the efficacy of sudden con- 
 versions, either in politics or religion. 
 
 In such circumstances, instead of attempting to grope 
 my way to a conclusion, by any dark and doubtful hy- 
 pothesis, I determined to demand information from those 
 best calculated to afford it. I, therefore, explained my 
 difficulties to one of the most eminent individuals of the 
 Union, whom I knew at least to have been formerly a 
 Federalist. " How comes it," I asked, "that the party 
 which you formerly adorned by your talents and elo- 
 quence, is no longer to be found 1 Is it, that the pro- 
 gress of events, increased experience, and more delibe- 
 rate and enlightened views, have induced you to relin- 
 quish your former tenets; or, that still entertaining the 
 same opinions, you are simply withheld by policy from 
 expressing them?" His answer- in substance as follows 
 was too striking to be forgotten. "My opinions, and 
 I believe those of the party to which I belonged, are un- 
 changed; and the course of events in this country has 
 been such, as to impress only a deeper and more tho- 
 rough conviction of their wisdom. But, in the present 
 state of public feeling, we dare not express them. An 
 individual professing such opinions, would not only find 
 himself excluded from every office of public trust, with- 
 in the scope of his reasonable ambition, but he would 
 be regarded by his neighbours and fellow-citizens with an 
 evil eye. His words and actions would become the ob- 
 jects of jealous and malignant scrutiny, and he would have 
 to sustain the unceasing attacks of a host of unscrupulous
 
 INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS. 157 
 
 and ferocious assailants. And for what object is his life 
 to be thus imbittered, and he is to be cut off from the 
 common objects of honourable ambition? Why, for the 
 satisfaction of expressing his adherence to an obsolete 
 creed, and his persuasion of the wisdom of certain doc- 
 trines of government, which his judgment assures him, 
 are utterly impracticable in the present condition of so- 
 ciety." 
 
 When the Americans do agree, therefore^ their unani- 
 mity is really not very wonderful, seeing it proceeds 
 from the observance of the good old rule, of punishing 
 all difference of opinion. The consequence, however, 
 has been, not the eradication of federal principles, but a 
 discontinuance of their profession. The combatants 
 fight under a new banner, but the battle is not less bitter 
 on that account. There is no longer any question with 
 regard to increase of power on the part of the general 
 government; that has long since been decided; but the 
 point of contention now is, whether it shall keep that 
 authority with which it is at present understood to be 
 invested. But even this substantial ground of difference 
 is rarely brought prominently forward in debate. The 
 struggle generally is with regard to particular measures, 
 involving many collateral interests, but which are felt to 
 have a tendency to one side or the other. 
 
 Thus, one great subject of discussion relates to the 
 power of the government to expend a portion of the na- 
 tional funds in internal improvements. In 1830, a bill, 
 which had passed the legislature for the construction of 
 a national road, was returned with the veto of the Pre- 
 sident. By the articles of the constitution, the federal 
 legislature are invested with the power of "establishing 
 post-offices and post-roads." The doubt is, whether the 
 word establish gives the privilege to construct) or, is to 
 be understood as simply granting authority to convert 
 into post-roads, thoroughfares already in existence. A 
 principle of great importance is, no doubt, involved in 
 this question, since by it must be decided whether the 
 federal government have the power of adopting any ge- 
 neral system of improvements, or of executing public 
 works with a view to the national advantage. The ex- 
 istence of such a power would, no doubt, materially tend
 
 158 POLITICAL DIFFERENCES. 
 
 to strengthen its influence, and this, which is a recom- 
 mendation with one party, constitutes the chief objection 
 with the other. General Jackson is the leading cham- 
 pion on the one side; Mr. Clay, his opponent for the 
 Presidency, on the other. The latter is backed by the 
 northern and a considerable portion of the Central States; 
 the former by the Southern and Western. 
 
 There can be no doubt, I imagine, that the Federal- 
 ists, in supporting the affirmative of this question, are 
 influenced by the tendency of the opinions they advo- 
 cate, to enlarge and strengthen the power of the execu- 
 tive, but the grounds on which they attempt to gain pro- 
 selytes are entirely collateral. They urge the general 
 expediency of such a power; the impossibility of in- 
 ducing the legislatures of the different States to concur 
 heartily in any one project for the benefit of the whole; 
 the necessity of unity of execution, as well as unity of 
 design; and the probability, that, if such improvements 
 are not undertaken by the federal government, they will 
 never be executed at all. 
 
 Of course, such questions as the tariff, and that of 
 which I have just spoken, are not exclusively decided 
 by political principle. Private interest steps in; many 
 of the democratic party adopt the views of their oppo- 
 nents on some single question of policy, and where that 
 is of great importance, range themselves under the same 
 banner. Thus, a candidate for Congress is often sup- 
 ported by men differing on many questions, and agree- 
 ing only in one. Commercial men are usually in favour 
 of the system of internal improvements, because these 
 must generally bring with them increased facilities for 
 commerce. A new road may open a new market; the 
 deepening of a harbour may change the whole aspect of 
 a province; and those, who, by their local position or 
 pursuits are more immediately interested in these bene- 
 fits, may be pardoned, if, on an occasion of such moment, 
 they lay aside their principles, and act on the narrower 
 and stronger motive of personal advantage. 
 
 In a country of such extraordinary extent as the 
 United States, there are, of course, a vast number of lo- 
 cal interests, which modify the application of theoretical 
 principle. In the representative of each district, some
 
 MASONRY. 159 
 
 peculiarity of creed is commonly necessary to secure the 
 support of his constituents. Conformity on leading 
 points of opinion is not enough; there is almost always 
 some topic, however unconnected with politics, on which 
 coincidence of sentiment is demanded. I may quote a 
 striking instance of this in the State of New York. 
 
 Some years ago, a man of the name of Morgan, who 
 wrote a book, revealing the secrets of Free Masonry, 
 was forcibly seized in his own dwelling-house, carried 
 off, and murdered. Of the latter fact, there is no direct 
 proof, but it is impossible to account for the circum- 
 stances on any other supposition. He is known to have 
 been conveyed to the neighbourhood of Niagara, and 
 there is evidence of his having passed a night there; but 
 from that period to the present, no traces of the unfor- 
 tunate man have ever been discovered. Of course, the 
 vigilance of justice was aroused by this outrage. The 
 public prosecutor was long unsuccessful in his attempts 
 to bring the criminals to trial. At length, however, 
 strong circumstantial evidence was obtained, which went 
 to fix participation in the crime on two individuals. 
 They were brought to trial. A majority of the jury had 
 no doubt of their guilt, but the minority thought other- 
 wise, and the men were acquitted. 
 
 The circumstance of the jurymen who procured the 
 acquittal being Free Masons, contributed to inflame the 
 public indignation, already strongly excited by the ori- 
 ginal outrage. The principles of this secret society had 
 not only caused crime to be committed, but justice to be 
 denied. Unquestionably, Free Masonry had given rise 
 to murder; and, as unquestionably, in the opinion of 
 many, its influence had secured impunity to the offend- 
 ers. The question thus arose, is a society which pro- 
 duces such consequences to be tolerated in a Christian 
 community? A large portion of the people banded to- 
 gether in hostility to all secret and affiliated societies. 
 They pronounced them dangerous and unconstitutional, 
 and pledged themselves to exert their utmost efforts for 
 their suppression. 
 
 The Masons, on the other hand, were a widely rami- 
 fied and powerful body, embracing, in their number, 
 nearly half the population of the State. Their constitu-
 
 160 DIFFICULTY OF UNDERSTANDING 
 
 tion gave them the advantage of unity of purpose and of 
 action. The keenness of contest, of course, excited the 
 passions of both parties. The public press ranged itself 
 on different sides: every candidate for office was com- 
 pelled to make confession of his creed on this important 
 subject, and to fight under the banner of one party or the 
 other; and the distinction of Mason or Anti-Mason su- 
 perseded, if it did not extinguish those arising from dif- 
 ferences more legitimately political. In the late elec- 
 tions, the Masonic party were triumphant; but the strug- 
 gle is still carried on with vigour, and there is no doubt 
 that the votes in the next presidential election will be 
 materially affected by it. Indeed, the mania on the sub- 
 ject is daily spreading. It was, at first, exclusively con- 
 fined to the State of New York; it is now becoming dif- 
 fused over the New England States and Pennsylvania. 
 
 It is such collateral influences which puzzle an Eng- 
 lishman, when he attempts to become acquainted with 
 the state of parties in this country. He looks for the 
 broad distinction of political principle, and he finds men 
 fighting about Masonry, or other matters which have no 
 apparent bearing on the great doctrines of government. 
 He finds general opinions modified by local interests, and 
 seeks in vain to discover some single and definite ques- 
 tion which may serve as a touchstone of party distinc- 
 tions. It is only by acute and varied observation, and 
 by conversation with enlightened men of all parties, 
 that he is enabled to make due allowance for the varia- 
 tions of the political compass, and judge accurately of 
 the course which the vessel is steering. 
 
 The Americans have a notion that they are a people 
 not easily understood, and that to comprehend their cha- 
 racter requires a long apprenticeship of philosophical ob- 
 servation, and more both of patience and liberality than 
 are usually compatible with the temper and prejudices 
 of foreign travellers. This is a mistake. The peculia- 
 rities of the Americans lie more on the surface than 
 those of any peopfe I have ever known. Their features 
 are broad and marked; there exists little individual ec- 
 centricity of character, and it is in their political rela- 
 tions alone that they are difficult to be understood. One 
 fact, however, is confessed by all parties, that the pro-
 
 POLITICAL DIFFERENCES IN AMERICA. 161 
 
 gress of democratic principles from the period of the re- 
 volution has been very great. During my whole resi- 
 dence in the United States, I conversed with no enlight- 
 ened Americans, who did not confess, that the constitu- 
 tion now, though the same in letter with that established 
 in 1789, is essentially different in spirit. It was un- 
 doubtedly the wish of Washington and Hamilton to 
 counterpoise, as much as circumstances would permit, 
 the rashness of democracy by the caution and wisdom of 
 an aristocracy of intelligence and wealth. There is now 
 no attempt at counterpoise. The weight is all in one 
 scale, and how low, by continued increase of pressure, 
 it is yet to descend, would require a prophet of some 
 sagacity to foretell. I shall state a few circumstances 
 which may illustrate the progress and tendency of opi- 
 nion among the people of New York. 
 
 In that city a separation is rapidly taking place be- 
 tween the different orders of society. The operative 
 class have already formed themselves into a society, un- 
 der the name of " T*he WorkiesJ 1 in direct opposition 
 to those who, more favoured by. nature or fortune, en- 
 joy the luxuries of life without the necessity of manual 
 labour. These people make no secret of their demands, 
 which to da them justice are few and emphatic. They 
 are published in the newspapers, and may be read an 
 half the walls of New York. Their first postulate is 
 " EQUAL AND UNIVERSAL EDUCATION." It is false, they 
 say, to maintain that there is at present no privileged or- 
 der, no practical aristocracy, in a country where distinc- 
 tions of education are perm itted. That portion of the po- 
 pulation whom the necessity of manual labour cuts off 
 from the opportunity of enlarged acquirement, is in fact 
 excluded from all the valuable offices of the State. As 
 matters are now ordered in the United States, these are 
 distributed exclusively among one small class of the 
 community, while those who constitute the real strength 
 of the country, have barely a voice in the distribution of 
 those loaves and fishes, which they are not permitted to 
 enjoy. There does exist then they argue an aristo- 
 cracy of the most odious kind, an aristocracy of know- 
 ledge, education, and refinement, which is inconsistent 
 with the true democratic principle of absolute equality. 
 
 21
 
 162 SOCIETY OF WORRIES. 
 
 They pledge themselves, therefore, to exert every ef- 
 fort, mental and physical, for the abolition of this fla- 
 grant injustice. They proclaim it to the world as a nui- 
 sance which must be abated, before the freedom of an 
 American be something more than a mere empty boast. 
 They solemnly declare that they will not rest satisfied, 
 till every citizen in the United States shall receive the 
 same degree of education, and start fair in the competi- 
 tion for the honours and the offices of the state. As it 
 is of course impossible- and these men know it to be so 
 to educate the labouring class to the standard of the 
 richer, it is their professed object to reduce the latter to 
 the same mental condition with the former; to prohibit 
 all supererogatory knowledge; to have a maximum of 
 acquirement beyond which it shall be punishable to go, 
 
 But those who limit their views to the mental degra- 
 dation of their country, are in fact the MODERATES of the 
 party. There are others who go still farther, and bold- 
 ly advocate the introduction of an AGRARIAN LAW, and a 
 periodical division of property. These unquestionably 
 constitute the extreme gauche of the Worky Parliament, 
 but still they only follow out the principles of their less 
 violent neighbours, and eloquently dilate on the justice 
 and propriety of every individual being equally supplied 
 with food and clothing; on the monstrous iniquity of one 
 man riding in his carriage while another walks on foot, 
 and, after his drive, discussing a bottle of Champagne, 
 while many of his neighbours are shamefully compelled 
 to be content with the pure element. Only equalize 
 property, they say, and neither would drink Champagne 
 or water, but both would have brandy, a consummation 
 worthy of centurtes of struggle to attain. 
 
 All this is nonsense undoubtedly, nor do I say that 
 this party, though strong in New York, is yet so nume- 
 rous or so widely diffused as to create immediate alarm. 
 In the elections, however, for the civic offices of the 
 city, their influence is strongly felt; and there can be no 
 doubt that as population becomes more dense, and the 
 supply of labour shall equal, or exceed the demand for 
 it, the strength of this party must be enormously aug- 
 mented. Their ranks will always be recruited by the 
 needy, the idle, and the profligate, and like a rolling snow-
 
 POLITICAL PROSPECTS OF THE UNION. 1^3 
 
 ball, it will gather strength and volume as it proceeds, 
 until at length it comes down thundering with the force 
 and desolation of an avalanche. 
 
 This event may be distant, but it is not the less certain 
 on that account. It is nothing to say, that the immense 
 extent of fertile territory yet to be occupied by an un- 
 born population will delay the day of ruin. It will de- 
 lay, but it cannot prevent it. The traveller, at the 
 source of the Mississippi, in the very heart of the Ame- 
 rican Continent, may predict with perfect certainty, that 
 however protracted the wanderings of the rivulet at his 
 foot, it must reach the ocean at last. In proportion as 
 the nearer lands are occupied, it is very evident that 
 the region to which emigration will be directed must of 
 necessity be more distant. The pressure of population 
 therefore will continue to augment in the Atlantic States, 
 and the motives to removal become gradually weaker. 
 Indeed, at the present rate of extension, the circle of 
 occupied territory must before many generations be so 
 enormously enlarged, that emigration will be confined 
 wholly to the Western States. Then, and not till then, 
 will come the trial of the American constitution; and 
 until that trial has been passed, it is mere nonsense to 
 appeal to its stability. 
 
 Nor is this period of trial apparently very distant. 
 At the present ratio of increase, the population of the 
 United States doubles itself in about twenty-four years, 
 so that in half a century it will amount to about fifty 
 millions, of which ten millions will be slaves, or at all 
 events a degraded caste, cut off from all the rights and 
 privileges of citizenship. Before this period it is very 
 certain that the pressure of the population, on the means 
 of subsistence, especially in the Atlantic States, will be 
 very great. The price of labour will have fallen, while 
 that of the necessaries of life must be prodigiously en- 
 hanced. The poorer and more suffering class, will want 
 the means of emigrating to a distant region of unoccupied 
 territory. Poverty and misery will be abroad; the great 
 majority of the people will be without property of any 
 kind, except the thews and sinews with which God has 
 endowed them; they will choose legislators under the 
 immediate pressure of privation; and if in such circum-
 
 164 APPROACHING TRIAL 
 
 stances, any man can anticipate security of property, his 
 conclusion must be founded, I suspect, rather on the 
 wishes of a sanguine temperament, than on any rational 
 calculation of probabilities. 
 
 Jt is the present policy of the government to encou- 
 rage and stimulate the premature growth of a manufac- 
 turing population. In this it will not be successful, but no 
 man can contemplate the vast internal resources of the 
 United States, the varied productions of their soil, 
 the unparalleled extent of river communication the 
 inexhaustible stores of coal and iron which are spread 
 even on the surface, and doubt that the Americans 
 are destined to become a great manufacturing nation. 
 Whenever increase of population shall have reduced the 
 price of labour to a par with that in other countries, 
 these advantages will come into full play; the United 
 States will then meet England on fair terms in every 
 market of the world, and in many branches of industry 
 at least, will very probably attain an unquestioned su- 
 periority. Huge manufacturing cities will spring up in 
 various quarters of the Union,the population will congre- 
 gate in masses, and all the vices incident to such a con- 
 dition of society will attain speedy maturity. Millions 
 of men will depend for subsistence on the demand for a 
 particular manufacture, and yet this demand will of ne- 
 cessity be liable to perpetual fluctuation. When the 
 pendulum vibrates in one direction, there will be an in- 
 flux of wealth and prosperity ; when it vibrates in the 
 other, misery, discontent, and turbulence will spread 
 through the land. A change of fashion, a war, the glut 
 of a foreign market, a thousand unforeseen and inevita- 
 ble accidents are liable to produce this, and deprive mul- 
 titudes of bread, who but a month before were enjoying 
 all the comforts of life. Let it be remembered that in 
 this suffering class will be practically deposited the whole 
 political power of the state; that there can be no military 
 force to maintain civil order, and protect property; and 
 lo what quarter, I should be glad to know, is the rich 
 man to look for security, either of person or fortune? 
 
 There will be no occasion, however, for convulsion or 
 violence. The Worky convention will only have to 
 choose representatives of their own principles, in order
 
 OF THE CONSTITUTION. 165 
 
 to accomplish a general system of spoliation, in the most 
 legal and constitutional manner. It is not even neces- 
 sary that a majority of the federal legislature should con- 
 cur in this. It is competent to the government of each 
 state to dispose of the property within their own limits 
 as they think proper, and whenever a numerical majo- 
 rity of the people shall be in favour of an Agrarian law, 
 there exists no counteracting influence to prevent, or 
 even to retard its adoption. 
 
 I have had the advantage of conversing with many of 
 the most eminent Americans of the Union, on the future 
 prospects of their country, and I certainly remember 
 none who did not admit that a period of trial, such as 
 that I have ventured to describe, is, according to all hu- 
 man calculation, inevitable. Many of them reckoned 
 much on education as a means of safety, and, unques- 
 tionably, in a country where the mere power of breathing 
 carries with it the right of suffrage, the diffusion of sound 
 knowledge is always essential to the public security. It 
 unfortunately happens, however, that in proportion as 
 poverty increases, not only the means but the desire 
 of instruction are necessarily diminished. The man 
 whose whole energies are required for the supply of his 
 bodily wants, has neither time nor inclination to concern 
 himself about his mental deficiencies, and the result of 
 human experience does not warrant us in reckoning on 
 the restraint of individual cupidity, where no obsta- 
 cle exists to its gratification, by any deliberate calcula- 
 tion of its consequences on society. There can be no 
 doubt, that if men could be made wise enough to act on 
 an enlarged and enlightened view of their own interest, 
 government might be dispensed with altogether; but 
 what statesman would legislate on the probability of such 
 a condition of society, or rely on it as a means of future 
 safety. 
 
 The general answer, however, is, that the state of 
 things which I have ventured to describe, is very dis- 
 tant. " It is enough," they say, " for each generation to 
 look to itself, and we leave it to our descendants some 
 centuries hence to take care of their interests as we do 
 of ours. We enjoy all manner of freedom and security
 
 166 DIFFICULTY OF UNDERSTANDING 
 
 under our present constitution, and really feel very little 
 concern about the evils which- may afflict our posterity." 
 I cannot help believing, however, that the period of trial 
 is somewhat less distant than such reasoners comfort 
 themselves by imagining; but if the question be conceded 
 that democracy necessarily leads to anarchy and spolia- 
 tion, it does not seem that the mere length of road to be 
 travelled is a point of much importance. This, of course, 
 would vary according to the peculiar circumstances of 
 every country in which the experiment might be tried. 
 In England, the journey would be performed with rail- 
 way velocity. In the United States, with the great ad- 
 vantages they possess, it may continue a generation or 
 two longer, but the termination is the same. The doubt 
 regards time, not destination. 
 
 At present, the United States are, perhaps, more safe 
 from revolutionary contention than any other country in 
 the world. But this safety consists in one circumstance 
 alone. The. great majority of the. people, are possessed 
 of property; have what is called a stake in the hedge; 
 and are, therefore, by interest, opposed to all measures 
 which may tend to its insecurity. It is for such a con- 
 dition of society that the present constitution was framed; 
 and could this great bulwark of prudent government, be 
 rendered as permanent as it is effective, there could be no 
 assignable limit to the prosperity of a people so favoured. 
 But the truth is undeniable, that as population increases, 
 another state of things must necessarily arise, and one, 
 unfortunately, never dreamt of in the philosophy of 
 American legislators. The majority of the people will 
 then consist of men without property of any kind, sub- 
 ject to the immediate pressure of want, and then will be 
 decided the great struggle between property and num- 
 bers; on the one side hunger, rapacity, and physical pow- 
 er: reason, justice, and helplessness on the other. The 
 weapons of this fearful contest are already forged; the 
 hands will soon be born that are to wield them. At all 
 events, let no man appeal to the stability of the Ameri- 
 can government as being established by experience, till 
 this trial has been overpast. Forty years are no time to 
 test the permanence, or, if I may so speak, the vitality 
 of a constitution, the immediate advantages of which
 
 THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 157 
 
 are strongly felt, and the evils latent and comparatively 
 remote. 
 
 It may be well to explain, that what I have hitherto 
 said has rather been directed to the pervading democracy 
 of the institutions of the different States than to the fe- 
 deral government. Of the latter, it is difficult to speak, 
 because it is difficult to ascertain with any precision, the 
 principles on which it is founded. 1 think it was a say- 
 ing of Lord Eldon, that there was no act of Parliament 
 so carefully worded that he could not drive a coach and 
 six through it. The American lawyers have been at 
 least equally successful with regard to their federal con- 
 stitution. No man appears precisely to understand what 
 it is, but all agree that it is something very wise. It is 
 a sort of political gospel, in which every man finds a re- 
 flection of his own prejudices and opinions. Ask a New 
 England statesman what is the constitution, and he will 
 tell you something very different from a Georgian or 
 South Carolinian. Even the halls of Congress yet 
 echo with loud and bitter disputation as to the primary 
 and fundamental principle on which it is based. Ask 
 the President of the United States, what is the nature 
 of the government he administers with so much ho- 
 nour to himself and advantage to his country, and Ge- 
 neral Jackson will tell you that it is a government of 
 consolidation, possessing full power to enforce its de- 
 crees in every district of the Union. Ask the Vice-pre- 
 sident, and he will assure you that the government is 
 merely confederative, and depends for its authority on 
 the free consent of the individual States. Ask Mr. Clay 
 or Mr. Webster what are the powers of this apparently un- 
 intelligible constitution, and they will probably include 
 in their number the privilege of taxing at discretion the 
 commerce of the country, and expending the money so 
 raised in projects of internal improvement. Put the 
 same question to General Hayne or Mr. Van Buren, and 
 they will assert that such doctrine is of the most inju- 
 rious tendency, and proceeds altogether on a false inter- 
 pretation; and yet all will agree that the federal constitu- 
 tion is the highest, most perspicuous, and faultless 
 achievement of human legislation! It may be so, but till 
 this masterpiece of polity becomes something more de-
 
 168 DISADVANTAGES OF THE UNION. 
 
 finite and intelligible, a foreigner may, perhaps, be ex- 
 cused for holding his admiration in abeyance. 
 
 At all events, it is abundantly clear, that the seeds of 
 discord are plentifully scattered throughout the Union. 
 Men of different habits, different interests, different 
 modes of thought; the inhabitants of different climates, 
 and agreeing only in mutual antipathy, are united under 
 a common government, whose powers are so indefinite 
 as to afford matter for interminable and rancorous dispu- 
 tation. Does such a government bear the impress of 
 permanence? Or does it not rather seem, in its very 
 structure, to concentrate all the scattered elements of 
 decay? 
 
 When we contemplate the political relations of this 
 singular people, the question naturally arises whether 
 unity of government be compatible with great diversi- 
 ties of interest in the governed. There may possibly be 
 reasoners who are prepared to answer this question in 
 the affirmative, and to these we may look for instruction 
 as to the advantages such a government as that of the 
 United States possesses over others of smaller extent, 
 and, therefore, capable of closer adaptation to the pecu- 
 liar wants and interests of a people. To me it certainly 
 appears that there can be no firm adhesion without ho- 
 mogenity in a population. Let men once feel that their 
 interests are the same; that they are exposed to the same 
 dangers; solicitous for the same objects, partaking of the 
 same advantages, and connected by some reasonable de- 
 gree of geographical propinquity, and in such a commu- 
 nity there is no fear of separation or dismemberment 
 The population, in such circumstances, forms one uni- 
 form' and firmly-concatenated whole, whereas, a Union 
 on other principles, resembles that of a bag of sand, in 
 which the separate particles, though held together for a 
 time, retain their original and abstract, individuality. 
 
 Let us look for a moment at this Union. In Florida 
 and Louisiana they grow sugar; in Maine there is scarce- 
 ly sun enough to ripen a crop of maize. The people of 
 these States are no less different than the productions of 
 their soil. They are animated by no sentiment of bro- 
 therhood and affinity. Nature has divided them by a 
 distance of two thousand miles; the interests of one are
 
 PROSPECTS OF THE CONSTITUTION. 169 
 
 neither understood nor cared for in the other. In short, 
 they are connected by nothing but a clumsy and awk- 
 ward piece of machinery, most felicitously contrived to 
 deprive both of the blessing of self-government. What 
 is gained by this? A certain degree of strength, undoubt- 
 edly, but not more than might be produced by an alli- 
 ance between independent States, unaccompanied by that 
 jealousy and conflict of opposing interests, which is the 
 present curse of the whole Union. 
 
 I remember, when at Washington, stating my im- 
 pressions on this subject to a distinguished member of the 
 House of Representatives, who admitted that the ends of 
 good government would most probably be better, and 
 more easily attainable, were the Union divided into se- 
 veral republics, firmly united for purposes of defence, but 
 enjoying complete legislative independence. " And yet," 
 he continued, " the scheme could not possibly succeed. 
 The truth is, the Union is necessary to prevent us from 
 cutting each other's throats." Nor is this to be considered 
 as the singular opinion of some eccentric individual. I 
 have often conversed on the subject with men of great 
 intelligence in different parts of the Union, and found a 
 perfect harmony of opinion as to the results of separa- 
 tion. The northern gentlemen, in particular, seemed to 
 regard the federal government as the ark of their safety 
 from civil war and bloodshed. In such circumstances, it 
 might charitably be wished, that their ark was a stronger 
 sea-boat; and better calculated to weather the storms to 
 which it is likely to be exposed. 
 
 In truth, every year must increase the perils of this 
 federal constitution. Like other bubbles, it is at any time 
 liable to burst, and the world will then discover that its 
 external glitter covered nothing but wind. It may split 
 to-morrow on the Tariff question, or it may go on, till, 
 like a dropsical patient, it dies of mere extension, when 
 its remains will probably be denied even the decent ho- 
 nours of a Christian burial. It was near giving up the 
 ghost at the time of the Hartford Convention, and is now 
 in a state of grievous suffering from the Carolina fever. 
 It will probably survive this attack as it did the former, 
 since the great majority of the States are at present in 
 favour of its continuance. But, with the prevalence of
 
 170 DANGERS WHICH MENACE 
 
 the doctrine of nullification, it is impossible it can ever 
 gain much strength or vigour. If each State is to have 
 the privilege of sitting in judgment on the legality of its 
 measures, the range of its legislation must necessarily be 
 very confined. It will puzzle the ingenuity of American 
 statesmen, to discover some policy which will prove pala- 
 table to the various members of the Union, and which all 
 interpreters of the Constitution will confess to be within 
 the narrow limits of its power. 
 
 Let us suppose in England that every county asserted 
 the privilege of nullifying, when it thought proper, the 
 acts of the British Parliament. Leicestershire would 
 summon her population in convention to resist any reduc- 
 tion of the foreign wool-duty. Kent and Surrey would 
 nullify the hop-duty. Lay a rude finger on kelp, and a 
 distant threat of separation would be heard from the Ork- 
 neys. Dorset and Wilts would insist on the continuance 
 of the corn-laws, and wo to the Chancellor of the Exche- 
 quer who should venture to raise the Highland war-slogan 
 by an impost on horned cattle! Yet, in Great Britain 
 there exist no provincial jealousies, and the interests of 
 the whole kingdom are far more intimately amalgamated 
 than can ever be the case in the United States. 
 
 Amid the multitude of events which threaten the disso- 
 lution of the Union, I may venture to specify one. The 
 influence of each State in the election of the President, is 
 in the exact ratio of the amount of its population. In this 
 respect, the increase in some States is far greater than in 
 others. The unrivalled advantages of New York have 
 already given it the lead, and the same causes must ne- 
 cessarily still continue to augment its comparative supe- 
 riority. Ohio a state also rich in natural advantages 
 has recently been advancing with astonishing rapidity, 
 and the time is apparently not far distant when three 
 States (New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio) must possess 
 a numerical majority of the whole population, and of 
 course the power of electing the President, independently 
 of the other twenty-one States. Will the States thus vir- 
 tually excluded, tamely submit to this, or will they appeal 
 to Congress for an amendment of the constitution ? There 
 can be no prospect of redress from this quarter. The same 
 superiority of population which gave those three States
 
 THE DISRUPTION OF THE UNION. 37 1 
 
 the power of electing the President, has of course also gi- 
 ven them the majority of the House of Representatives, 
 and no amendment of the constitution can take place 
 without the concurrence of two- thirds of both houses. Be- 
 sides, the principle of election hy numerical majority is 
 fundamental throughout the Union, and could not be ab- 
 rogated without a total violation of consistency. It does 
 appear, therefore, that in no great distance of time the 
 whole substantial influence of the federal government 
 may he wielded by three States, and that whenever these 
 choose to combine, it will be in their power to carry any 
 measure, however obnoxious, to the rest of the Union. 
 The Senate, it is true, which consists of delegates in equal 
 number from each State, would be free from this influence, 
 but in any struggle with the more popular house, it must, 
 of course, prove the weaker party, and be compelled to 
 yield. 
 
 Those know little of the character of the American 
 people, who imagine that the great majority of the States 
 would tolerate being reduced to the condition of political 
 ciphers. Their jealousy of each other is very great, and 
 there can be no doubt, that should the contingency here 
 contemplated occur, it must occasion a total disruption of 
 the bonds of union. I believe it is the probability of 
 such an event, joined to the apprehension of some inter- 
 ference with the condition of the slave population, which 
 makes the people of the Southern States so anxious to 
 narrow the power of the general government. At all 
 events, it will be singular indeed if the seeds of civil broil, 
 disseminated in a soil so admirably fitted to bring them to 
 maturity, should not eventually yield an abundant har- 
 vest of animosity and dissension. * 
 
 After much I hope impartial and certainly patient 
 
 * The opinions I have ventured to express on this subject are by no 
 means singular. They are those of a large portion of the American 
 people. Chancellor Kent the ablest constitutional lawyer of his coun- 
 try says, in his Commentaries, " If ever the tranquillity of this nation 
 is to be disturbed, and its peace jeopardized by a struggle for power 
 among themselves, it will be upon this very subject of the choice of a f re- 
 sident. It is the question that is eventually to attest the goodness and try 
 the strength of the constitution." And many other authorities might be 
 adduced, were the subject one on which mere authority could have 
 much weight.
 
 172 DANGER OF UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE. 
 
 ' nS*-' 
 
 observation, it does appear to me, that universal suffrage 
 is the rock on which American freedom is most likely to 
 suffer shipwreck. The intrinsic evils of the system are 
 very great, and its adoption in the United States was the 
 more monstrous, because a qualification in property is 
 there not only a test of intelligence, but of moral charac- 
 ter. The man must either be idle or profligate, or more 
 probably both, who does not, in a country where labour 
 is so highly rewarded, obtain a qualification of some sort. 
 He is evidently unworthy of the right of suffrage, and by 
 every wise legislature will be debarred from its exercise. 
 In densely peopled countries the test of property in refe- 
 rence to moral qualities is fallible, perhaps too fallible 
 to be relied on with much confidence. In the United 
 States it is uneiring, or at least the possible exceptions 
 are so few, and must arise from circumstances so peculiar, 
 that it is altogether unnecessary they should find any 
 place in the calculations of a statesman. But American 
 legislators have thought proper to cast away this inesti- 
 mable advantage. Seeing no immediate danger in the 
 utmost extent of suffrage, they were content to remain 
 blind to the future. They took every precaution that 
 the rights of the poor man should not be encroached on 
 by the rich, but never seem to have contemplated the 
 possibility that the rights of the latter might be violated 
 by the former. American protection, like Irish recipro- 
 city, was all on one side. It was withheld where most 
 needed ; it was profusely lavished where there was no 
 risk of danger. They put a sword in the hand of one 
 combatant, and took the shield from the arm of the 
 other. 
 
 The leader who gave the first and most powerful im- 
 pulse to the democratic tendencies of the constitution was 
 unquestionably Jefferson. His countrymen call him great, 
 but in truth he was great only when compared with those 
 by whom he was surrounded. In brilliance and activity 
 of intellect he was inferior to Hamilton; but Hamilton in 
 heart and mind was an aristocrat, and too honourable 
 and too proud to shape his political course to catch the 
 flitting gales of popular favour. Death, fortunately for 
 Jefferson, removed the only rival, by whom his reputa- 
 tion could have been eclipsed, or his political principles
 
 CHARACTER OF JEFFERSON. 173 
 
 successfully opposed. Adams he encountered and over- 
 threw. Federalism, never calculated to secure popular 
 favour, dwindled on, till in the termination of the late 
 war it received its death-blow, and the democratic party 
 remained undisputed lords of the ascendant. 
 
 We seek in vain in the writings of Jefferson for indica- 
 tions of original or profound thought. When in France, 
 he had been captivated by that shallow philosophy of 
 which Diderot and Condorcet were the apostles, and he 
 returned to America, the zealous partisan of opinions, 
 which no subsequent experience could induce him to re- 
 linquish or modify. During by far the greater portion of 
 his life, the intellect of Jefferson remained stationary. 
 Time passed on ; generations were gathered to their fa- 
 thers ; the dawn of liberty on the continent of Europe had 
 terminated in a bloody sunset ; but the shadow on the dial 
 of his mind remained unmoved. In his correspondence 
 we find him to the very last, complacently putting 
 forth the stale and flimsy dogmas, which, when backed 
 by the guillotine, had passed for unanswerable in the Ja- 
 cobin coteries of the Revolution. 
 
 The mind of Jefferson was essentially unpoetical. In 
 his whole works there is no trace discoverable of imagi- 
 native power. His benevolence was rather topical than 
 expansive. It reached France, but never ventured across 
 the channel. Had Napoleon invaded England, the heart 
 and prayers of Jefferson would have followed him in the 
 enterprise. He would have gloated over her fallen pa- 
 laces, her conflagrated cities, her desolate fields. Her 
 blood, her sufferings, her tears, the glorious memory of 
 her past achievements, would in him have excited no 
 feeling of compassionate regret. Jefferson had little en- 
 thusiasm of character. Nor was he rich in those warm 
 charities and affections, in which great minds are rarely 
 deficient. He has been truly called a good hater. His 
 resentments were not vehement and fiery ebullitions, 
 burning fiercely for a time, and then subsiding into in- 
 difference or dislike. They were cool, fiend-like, and 
 ferocious; unsparing, undying, unappeasable. The en- 
 mities of most men terminate with the death of their ob- 
 ject. It was the delight of Jefferson to trample even on 
 the graves of his political opponents. The manner in
 
 174 MADISON MONROE. 
 
 which he speaks of Hamilton in his correspondence, and 
 the charges by which he vainly attempts to blast his re- 
 putation, will attach an indelible tarnish to his own me- 
 mory. He never forgave the superior confidence which 
 Washington reposed in the wisdom and integrity of Ha- 
 milton. The only amiable feature in the whole life of 
 Jefferson was his reconciliation with Adams, and there 
 the efficient link was community of hatred. Both de- 
 tested Hamilton. 
 
 The moral character of Jefferson was repulsive. Con- 
 tinually puling about liberty, equality, and the degrading 
 curse of slavery, he brought his own children to the ham- 
 mer, and made money of his debaucheries. Even at his 
 death, he did not manumit his numerous offspring, but 
 left them, soul and body, to degradation, and the cart- 
 whip. A daughter of Jefferson was sold some years ago, 
 by public auction, at New Orleans, and purchased by a 
 society of gentlemen, who wished to testify, by her libe- 
 ration, their admiration of the statesman, 
 
 " Who dreamt of freedom in a slave's embrace." 
 
 This single line gives more insight to the character of the 
 man, than whole volumes of panegyric. It will outlive 
 his epitaph, write it who may. 
 
 Jefferson was succeeded by Madison, a mere reflex of 
 his political opinions. If he wanted the harsher points 
 of Jefferson's character, he wanted also its vigour. The 
 system he pursued was indistinguishable from that of his 
 predecessor, and during his Presidency the current of de- 
 mocracy flowed on with increased violence and velocity. 
 Monroe came next, and becoming at length aware of the 
 prevailing tendencies of the constitution, was anxious to 
 steer a middle course. He organized a piebald cabinet, 
 composed of men of different opinions, and the result of 
 their conjunction was a sort of hybrid policy, half fede- 
 ralist and half democratic, which gave satisfaction to no 
 party. 
 
 At the termination of Mr. Monroe's second period of 
 office, Mr. John Quincy Adams became his successor, by 
 a sort of electioneering juggle which occasioned a uni- 
 versal sentiment of disgust. What the principles of this
 
 ADAMS JACKSON.' 175 
 
 statesman were, or are, seems a matter not very intelli- 
 gible to his own countrymen, and of course is still less so 
 to a foreigner* All that is necessary to be known is, that 
 at the expiration of four years, Mr. Quincy Adams Was 
 turned out, to the great satisfaction of the whole Union, 
 and that though he still continues in the healthy enjoy- 
 ment of all corporeal and mental functions, there is as- 
 suredly no chance that he will ever again be promoted 
 to any office of political trust and importance. 
 
 General Jackson, the present President, has always 
 been an eminent member of the democratic party. His 
 accession to office, however, united to the experience of 
 a long life, is understood to have induced a change in some 
 of his opinions, and a modification of others. His policy 
 is as moderate as the circumstances of the times will per- 
 mit. On the Tariff question his opinions are not precise- 
 ly known, but he decidedly opposes the application of the 
 public money, under direction of the federal government, 
 to projects of internal improvement. 
 
 General Jackson was certainly indebted for his present 
 elevation, to the reputation he acquired in the successful 
 defence of New Orleans. In truth, I believe his popu- 
 larity is rather military than political, since even those^- 
 and they are many who dislike him, as a politician, ex- 
 tol him as the first general of the age, whose reputation 
 beggars the fame of the most celebrated modern strate- 
 gists. 
 
 It is excusable to smile at this, but scarcely fair to vi- 
 sit it with the severity of ridicule. New Orleans, for 
 want of a better, is the American Waterloo; and while 
 the loss to England occasioned by this disaster is a fixed 
 quantity neither to be increased nor diminished, why 
 should we object to the display of a little harmless vani- 
 ty, or demand that our successful opponents should mea- 
 sure the extent of their achievement rather by our stand- 
 ard than by their own? 
 
 When talking of American statesmen, I may as well 
 detail a few circumstances connected with one, who has 
 certainly played a very conspicuous part in the politics 
 of his country. I allude to the celebrated Colonel Burr, 
 formerly Vice President of the United States, and who, 
 in 1800, was within a vote of becoming President, in
 
 176 COLONEL BURR, 
 
 opposition to Jefferson and Adams. It is well known, 
 that strong political differences with General Hamilton, 
 imbittered by a good deal of personal dislike, led to a 
 duel, in which Hamilton lost his life. To this misfor- 
 tune is attributable the entire ruin of ColonelBurr's pros- 
 pects as a statesman. Hamilton was admired by all par- 
 ties, and the voice of lamentation was heard from the 
 whole Union on the premature extinction of the highest 
 intellect of the country. There arose a general and 
 powerful feeling of indignation against the author of this 
 national calamity; but Burr was not a man to shrink 
 from the pelting of any tempest, however vehement. 
 He braved its violence, but at once knew that his popu- 
 larity was gone for ever. 
 
 Subsequently, he was concerned in some conspiracy to 
 seize on part of Mexico, of which he was to become 
 sovereign, by the style and title I suppose of Aaron 
 the First, King, or Emperor of the Texas. Colonel 
 Burr was likewise accused of treason to the common- 
 wealth, in attempting to overthrow the constitution by 
 force of arms. But a veil of mystery hangs around this 
 portion of American history. I have certainly read a 
 great deal about it, and left off nearly as wise as when I 
 began. A conspiracy of some sort did undoubtedly ex- 
 ist. Preparations were, in progress to collect an arma- 
 ment on the Ohio, and there was some rumour of its de- 
 scending the Mississippi and seizing on New Orleans. 
 Some of Burr's followers were tried, but unless my 
 memory deceives me acquitted. At all events, mate- 
 rials could not be discovered for the conviction of the 
 Great Catiline, whose projects, whether defensible or 
 not, were original, and indicative of the fearless charac- 
 ter of the man. 
 
 His acquittal, however, by two juries, was not suffi- 
 cient to establish his innocence in the opinion of his 
 countrymen. He was assailed by hatred and execration; 
 his name was made a by-word for every thing that was 
 odious in morals, and unprincipled in politics. It was 
 under such circumstances that Burr became an exile from 
 his country for several years. During that period, he 
 visited England, where he attracted the jealous observa- 
 tion of the ministry, and his correspondence with France
 
 VISIT TO COLONEL BURR. 177 
 
 being more frequent than was quite agreeable, and of a 
 cast somewhat too political, he received a polite invita- 
 tion to quit the country with the least possible delay. 
 Colonel Burr now lives in New York, secluded from so- 
 ciety, where his great talents and extensive professional 
 knowledge, still gain him some employment as a con- 
 sulting lawyer. 
 
 A friend of mine at New York inquired whether I 
 should wish an interview with this distinguished person. 
 I immediately answered in the affirmative, and a note 
 was addressed to Colonel Burr, requesting permission to 
 introduce me. The answer contained a polite assent, 
 and indicated an hour when his avocations would permit 
 his having sufficient leisure for the enjoyment of conver- 
 sation. At the time appointed, my friend conveyed me 
 to a house in one of the poorest streets of the city. 
 The Colonel received us on the landing-place, with the 
 manners of a finished courtier, and led the way to his 
 little library, which judging from the appearance of 
 the volumes was principally furnished with works con- 
 nected with the law. 
 
 In person, Colonel Burr is diminutive, and I was 
 much struck with the resemblance he bears to the late 
 Mr. Percival. His physiognomy is expressive of strong 
 sagacity. The eye keen, penetrating, and deeply set; 
 the forehead broad and prominent; the mouth small, but 
 disfigured by the ungraceful form of the lips; and, the 
 other features, though certainly not coarse, were irrecon- 
 cilable with any theory of beauty. On the whole, I 
 have rarely seen a more remarkable countenance. Its 
 expression was highly intellectual, but I imagined I 
 could detect the lines of strong passion mingled with 
 those of deep thought. The manners of Colonel Burr 
 are those of a highly bred gentleman. His powers of 
 conversation are very great, and the opinions he ex- 
 presses on many subjects marked by much shrewdness 
 and originality. 
 
 When in England, he had become acquainted with 
 many of the Whig leaders, and I found him perfectly 
 versed in every thing connected with our national po- 
 litics. 
 
 It would be an' unwarrantable breach of the confidence 
 23
 
 178 VOYAGE TO BRUNSWICK. 
 
 of private life, were I to publish any particulars of the 
 very remarkable conversation I enjoyed with this emi- 
 nent person. I shall, therefore, merely state, that, 
 having encroached, perhaps, too long, both on the time 
 and patience of Colonel Burr, I bade him farewell, with 
 sincere regret, that a career of public life, which had 
 opened so brilliantly, should not have led to a more for- 
 tunate termination. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 ON the 8th of January I again bade farewell to New 
 York, and embarked on board of a New Brunswick 
 steamer on my way to Philadelphia. Our course lay up 
 the Raritan river, which has nothing interesting to dis- 
 play in point of scenery, and the morning being raw and 
 gusty, the voyage was not particularly agreeable. It oc- 
 cupied about four hours, and, on reaching Brunswick, 
 we found a cavalcade of nine stage-coaches, drawn up 
 for the accommodation of the passengers. In these, we 
 were destined to cross the country between the Raritan 
 and Delaware, which forms part of the State of New 
 Jersey. In theory, nothing could be easier than this 
 journey. The distance was only twenty-seven miles; 
 and, in a thoroughfare so much travelled as that between 
 the two great cities of the Union, it was, at least, not 
 probable that travellers would be subjected to much in- 
 convenience. 
 
 But theory and experience were at variance in this 
 case, as in many others. We changed coaches at every 
 stage, and twice had the whole baggage of the party to 
 be unpacked and reloaded. The road was detestable; 
 the jolting even worse than what I had suffered on my 
 journey from Providence to Boston. For, at least, half 
 the distance, the coach was axle-deep in mud, and once 
 it fairly stuck in a rut, and might have continued stick-
 
 ARRIVAL AT PHILADELPHIA. 179 
 
 ing till doomsday, had the passengers not dismounted to 
 lighten the vehicle. I inquired the reason of the dis- 
 graceful neglect of this important line of communica- 
 tion, and was answered, that, as it was intended at some 
 future period to have a railway, it would be mere folly 
 to go to any expense in repairing it. Thtfc are this in- 
 telligent people content to sacrifice a great present bene- 
 fit, to a mere speculative, and, probably, remote con- 
 tingency. 
 
 The scenery through which our route lay was devoid 
 of beauty, and the soil wretchedly poor. The whole 
 country had evidently at one time been under cultiva- 
 tion, but in much of it the plough had long ceased from 
 labour, and the forest had already resumed its ancient 
 rights. The weather added to the bleakness of the land- 
 scape, and though the coach crept on with the velocity 
 of a tortoise, it was not till long after dark that we reached 
 Bristol. Here we took boat again, and our troubles 
 were at an end. A plentiful dinner contributed to be- 
 guile the distance, and the city clocks were in the act of 
 chiming ten as we landed on the quay of Philadelphia. 
 
 Having procured a coach, I drove to Head's hotel, 
 xvhich had been recommended to me as one of the best 
 houses in the Union. Here I could only procure a small 
 and nasty bed-room, lighted by a few panes of glass fixed 
 in the wall, some eight or ten feet from the floor. On 
 the following morning, therefore, I removed to the 
 United Slates Hotel, where I found the accommodation 
 excellent. My letters of introduction were then des- 
 patched, with the result which my experience of Ame- 
 rican kindness had led me to anticipate. 
 
 Philadelphia stands on an isthmus about two miles 
 wide, between the Delaware and the Schuylkill. Below 
 the city, both rivers are navigable for vessels of any 
 class, but the severity of the winter climate generally 
 causes an interruption to the communication with the 
 sea, of considerable duration. As a great seat of com- 
 merce the advantage is altogether on the side of New 
 York. Philadelphia has but trifling extent of river com- 
 munication with the interior. The Delaware is naviga- 
 ble only for about thirty miles above the city, and the 
 Schuylkill is too full of shoals and rapids to be practica- 
 ble for any thing but small craft. To remedy this in-
 
 180 PUBLIC^BUILDINGS. 
 
 convenience there are several canals, and others are in 
 progress, which must contribute largely to the prosperity 
 of the State. 
 
 There is nothing striking in the appearance of Phila- 
 delphia, when seen from the river. It stands on a flat 
 surface, a*nd presents no single object of beauty or gran- 
 deur to arrest the attention. Spires may be monsters in 
 architecture, but they are beautiful monsters, and the 
 eye feels a sad want of them, as it wanders over the un- 
 varied extent of dull uniform building presented by Phi- 
 ladelphia. When one enters the city, the scene is cer- 
 tainly improved, but not much. The streets are rather 
 respectable than handsome, but there is every where so 
 much appearance of real comfort, that the traveller is at 
 first delighted with this Quaker paradise. He looks 
 from the carriage windows prepared to see every thing 
 couleur de rose. The vehicle rolls on; he praises the 
 cleanness and neatness of the houses, and every street 
 that presents itself seems an exact copy of those which 
 he has left behind. In short, before he has got through 
 half the city, he feels an unusual tendency to relaxation 
 about the region of the mouth, which ultimately termi- 
 nates in a silent but prolonged yawn. 
 
 Philadelphia is mediocrity personified in brick and 
 mortar. It is a city laid down by square and rule, a 
 a sort of habitable problem, a mathematical infringe- 
 ment on the rights of individual eccentricity, a rigid 
 and prosaic despotism of right angles and parallelograms. 
 It may emphatically be called a comfortable city, that 
 is, the houses average better than in any other with 
 which I am acquainted. You here see no miserable and 
 filthy streets, the refuge of squalid poverty, forming a 
 contrast to the splendour of squares and crescents. No 
 Dutch town can be cleaner, and the marble stairs and 
 window-sills of the better houses, give an agreeable re- 
 lief to the red brick of which they are constructed. 
 
 The public buildings are certainly superior to any I 
 have yet seen in America. Some of the churches are 
 handsome, and the United States Bank, with its marble 
 portico of Grecian Doric, gives evidence, I trust, of an 
 improving taste. I confess, however, that my hopes on 
 this matter are not very strong. Even persons of infor- 
 mation are evidently unable to appreciate the true merit
 
 WATER-WORKS. 181 
 
 of the building or the architect, and connect ridicule 
 with both, by declaring the former to be " the finest 
 building in the world!" Is a poor traveller in the United 
 States, when continually beset by such temptation, to be 
 held utterly inexcusable, if he sometimes venture to in- 
 dulge in a sneer? 
 
 The Bank of Pennsylvania is another structure enti- 
 tled to applause. Its front presents a flight of steps sus- 
 taining an Ionic portico of six columns, with an entabla- 
 ture and pediment. The banking-house of Mr. Girard, 
 the Coutts of the Union, is likewise handsome. 
 Like the two buildings I have already mentioned, its 
 whole front is of marble, but in taste it is far less chaste, 
 and presents more faults than I have time or inclination 
 to enumerate. There are likewise two buildings of 
 some pretension, in the Gothic style. Both are con- 
 temptible. 
 
 The State House, from which issued the declaration of 
 American independence, is yet standing. It is built of 
 brick, and consists of a centre and two wings, without 
 ornament of any sort. There is something appropriate, 
 and even imposing in its very plainness. Above, is a 
 small cupola with a clock, which, at night, is illuminated 
 by gas. 
 
 The Philadelphians, however, pride themselves far 
 more on their water-works than on their State House. 
 Their lo Pceans on account of the former, are loud and 
 unceasing, and I must say, the annoyance which these 
 occasion to a traveller, is very considerable. A dozen 
 times a-day was I asked whether I had seen the water- 
 works, and on my answering in the negative, I was told 
 that I positively must visit them; that they were unri- 
 valled in the world; that no people but the Americans 
 could have executed such works, and by implication, 
 that no one but an Englishman, meanly jealous of Ame- 
 rican superiority, would omit an opportunity of admiring 
 their unrivalled mechanism. 
 
 There is no accounting for the eccentricities of human 
 character. I had not heard these circumstances repeated 
 above fifty times, ere I began to .run restive, and deter- 
 mined not to visit the water-works at all. To this resolu- 
 tion I adhered, in spite of all annoyance, with a pertt-
 
 182 WISTAR PARTIES. 
 
 nacity worthy of a better cause. Of the water-works 
 of Philadelphia, therefore, I know nothing, and any 
 reader particularly solicitous of becoming acquainted 
 with the principle of this remarkable piece of machinery, 
 must consult the pages of other travellers. 
 
 I had the honour of being present at an annual cele- 
 bration of the American Philosophical Society. About 
 a hundred members sat down to a most excellent supper, 
 and the wine and punch were equally unimpeachable. 
 The President, Mr. Du Ponceau, then made a speech, in 
 which he gave a very interesting account of the rise 
 and progress of the Society to its present flourishing 
 condition. It was originally established by Franklin, 
 and a few of his fellow-tradesmen, who met in some 
 back-room of an obscure tavern, and having supped on 
 bread and cheese, enjoyed the feast of reason over a pot 
 of London Particular. The Society now includes in its 
 members all that America can boast of eminence in li- 
 terature or science. 
 
 On the following evening, I passed an hour or two very 
 agreeably at, one of a series of meetings, which are called 
 '* Wistar Parties," from the name of the gentleman at 
 whose house they were first held. Their effect and in- 
 fluence on society must be very salutary. These par- 
 ties bring together men of different classes and pursuits, 
 and promote the free interchange of opinion, always use- 
 ful for the correction of prejudice. Such intercourse, 
 too, prevents the narrowness of thought, and exaggerated 
 estimate of the value of our own peculiar acquirements, 
 which devotion to one exclusive object is apt to engender 
 in those who do not mix freely with the world. 
 
 These meetings are held by rotation at the houses of 
 the different members. The conversation is generally 
 literary or scientific, and as the party is usuall^very large, 
 it can be varied at pleasure. Philosophers eat like other 
 men, and the precaution of an excellent supper is by no 
 means found to be superfluous. It acts, too, as a gentle 
 emollient on the acrimony of debate. No man can say 
 a harsh thing with his mouth full of turkey, and dispu- 
 tants forget their differences in unity of enjoyment. 
 
 At these parties, I met several ingenious men of a 
 class something below that of the ordinary members.
 
 PECULIARITIES OF PHILADELPHIA. 183 
 
 When an operative mechanic attracts notice by his zeal 
 for improvement in any branch of science, he is al- 
 most uniformly invited to the Wistar meetings. The 
 advantage of this policy is obviously very great. A mo- 
 dest and deserving man is brought into notice. His er- 
 rors are corrected, his ardour is stimulated, his taste im- 
 proved. A healthy connexion is kept up between the 
 different classes of society, and the feeling of mutual 
 sympathy is duly cherished. During my stay in Phila- 
 delphia I was present at several of these Wistar meet- 
 ings, and always returned from them with increased con- 
 viction of their beneficial tendency. 
 
 Most of the great American cities have a peculiar cha- 
 racter, a sort of civic idiosyncracy, which distinguishes 
 their population even to the eye of an unpractised ob- 
 server. There is no mistaking that of Philadelphia; it is 
 Quaker all over. All things, animate and inanimate, 
 seem influenced by a spirit of quietism as pervading as 
 the atmosphere. The manners of the higher orders are 
 somewhat more reserved than in other parts of the Union, 
 and I must say that all ranks are particularly free from 
 the besetting sin of curiosity. Fortunately for travellers, 
 it is not here considered essential that they should dis- 
 close every circumstance connected with their past life 
 and opinions. 
 
 Philadelphia is par excellence a city of mediocrity. Its 
 character is republican, not democratic. One can read 
 the politics of its inhabitants in the very aspect of the 
 streets. A coarse and vulgar demagogue would have no 
 chance among a people so palpably observant of the pro- 
 prieties, both moral and political. The Philadelphians 
 are no traffickers in extremes of any sort, and were I to 
 form my opinion of a government, from the impression 
 made by its policy on some particular district of the 
 Union, I should certainly take this enlightened and re- 
 spectable city as the guide and standard of my creed. 
 
 The chief defect of Philadelphia is want of variety. 
 It is just such a city as a young lady would cut out of a 
 thread paper, 
 
 Street answers street, each alley has a brother, 
 And half the city just reflects the other. 
 
 Something is certainly wanted to relieve that unbroken
 
 184 THE PENITENTIARY. 
 
 uniformity, which tires the eye and stupifies the imagina- 
 tion. One would give the world for something to admire 
 or to condemn, and would absolutely rejoice, for the mere 
 sake of variety, to encounter a row of log huts, or to get 
 immersed in a congress of dark and picturesque doses, 
 such as delight all travellers without noses in the old 
 town of Edinburgh. 
 
 The Utilitarian principle is observed, even in the no- 
 menclature of the streets. Those running in one direc- 
 tion are denoted by the name of some particular tree, 
 such as vine, cedar, chesnut, spruce, &c. The cross- 
 streets are distinguished by numbers, so that a stranger 
 has no difficulty in finding his way, since the name of the 
 street indicates its situation. Market Street is the great 
 thoroughfare of the city, and stretches from one river to 
 another, an extent of several miles. The streets are ge- 
 nerally skirted by rows of Lombardy poplars, for what 
 reason I know not. They certainly give no shade, and 
 possess no beauty. 
 
 Notwithstanding the attractions of Philadelphia, it was 
 not my intention to have remained there longer than a 
 week, but while engaged in preparation for departure, a 
 deep fall of snow came on, and the communications of the 
 city were at once cut off. A week passed without intel- 
 ligence from the northward, and even the southern mails 
 were several days in arrear. The snow lay deep on the 
 streets, and wheeled carriages were of necessity ex- 
 changed for sledges, or, as they are usually called, sleighs. 
 Of course, it would have been absurd for a traveller, 
 with no motive for expedition, to commence a journey 
 under such circumstances, and I determined to prolong 
 my stay until the roads should be reported in such condi- 
 tion as to threaten no risk of detention in my route to 
 Baltimore. 
 
 During this interval I visited the Penitentiary. It 
 stands about two miles from the city, but owing to the 
 depth of snow, the sleigh could not approach within a 
 considerable distance of the building, and the pedestrian 
 part of the excursion presented much difficulty. A thin 
 icy crust had formed over the surface of the snow, which 
 often gave way beneath the foot, and more than once I 
 was immersed to the shoulders,
 
 DISCIPLINE OF THE PRISON. ISB 
 
 I did, however, reach the Penitentiary at last. It is a 
 square granite building of great extent, with a tower at 
 each angle, and the walls enclose a space of ten acres. 
 In the centre of the area stands an observatory, from 
 which it is intended that seven corridors shall radiate, but 
 three only have been yet completed. The cells are ar- 
 ranged on either side of these corridors, with which they 
 communicate by a square aperture, which may be opened 
 at pleasure from without. There is likewise a small eye- 
 hole, commanding a complete view of the cell, and at- 
 tached to each is a walled court, in which the prisoner 
 may take exercise. The only entrance to the cells lies 
 through these court-yards. 
 
 The system pursued in this institution is entirely diffe- 
 rent from that which, in a former part of this volume, I 
 have had occasion to describe. No punishment is per- 
 mitted within its walls but that of solitary confinement. 
 Nothing is left to the discretion of the gaoler, or his as- 
 sistants, and all risk of abuse is thus obviated. I cannot 
 but consider this as an inestimable advantage. If discre- 
 tionary power be confessedly dangerous when exercised 
 by a judge in open court, under the strong check of pub- 
 lic opinion, what are we to say of it when confined to a 
 gaoler, and exercised without responsibility of any sort, 
 amid the secrecy of his prison-house ? 
 
 The warder of the establishment struck me as a person 
 of much enthusiasm and benevolence. He evidently took 
 pleasure in affording every information in regard to the 
 practical operation of the system, though its introduction 
 is too recent to afford room for any conclusive appeal to 
 experience. The punishment originally contemplated in 
 this prison was solitary confinement, unmitigated by la- 
 bour. All experience is against the practicability of com- 
 bining this system with the continuance of bodily health 
 and mental sanity in the prisoners. It was, therefore, 
 wisely given up, and of that adopted in its stead 1 shall 
 now offer a few details. 
 
 A convict, on arriving at the prison, is blind-folded, 
 and conveyed to a room, where his hair is cut, and after 
 a complete personal ablution, he is led with the same 
 precaution, to the cell destined for his reception. He is 
 thus kept in ignorance of the localities of the prison, and 
 ' 24
 
 186 DEFECTS OF THE PENITENTIARY. 
 
 the chances of escape are diminished. Each cell is pro- 
 vided with an iron bedstead, a comfortable mattrass, two 
 blankets, and a pillow. There is likewise a water-cock 
 and tin mug, so that the prisoner may supply himself ad 
 libitum with the pure element. The cells are heated by 
 pipes, and though I visited the prison in the very coldest 
 weather, the temperature was very pleasant. 
 
 When a prisoner is first received, he is uniformly left 
 to enjoy the full privilege of solitary idleness; but in the 
 course of a short time he generally makes application for 
 work, and for a Bible. Each man is permitted to select 
 his own trade, and those who understand none when they 
 enter the prison are taught one. The allowance of food 
 is good and plentiful, but those who refuse to work, are 
 kept on a reduced allowance. Their number, however, 
 is exceedingly small, and the great majority consider 
 even the temporary withdrawal of work as a severe pu- 
 nishment. 
 
 Having taken up rather strong opinions with regard to 
 the injurious influence of solitary confinement, I was ra- 
 ther anxious to have an opportunity of conversing with a 
 few of the prisoners. To this no objection was made, and 
 I was accordingly ushered into the cell of a black shoe- 
 maker, convicted of theft, whom I found very comforta- 
 bly seated at his trade. I asked him many questions, 
 which he answered with great cheerfulness. He had 
 been confined I think for eighteen months, yet this 
 long period of separation from his fellow-creatures had 
 occasioned no derangement of his functions, bodily or 
 mental. I likewise conversed with two other prisoners, 
 and the result of my observation certainly was the con- 
 viction, that solitary confinement, when associated with 
 labour, is by no means liable to the objections which I 
 have often heard urged to its adoption as a punishment. 
 I have likewise the assurance of the warder, that during 
 his whole experience, he has not known a single instance 
 of the discipline adopted being found prejudicial to health, 
 either of mind or body. 
 
 There is undoubtedly much that is admirable in this 
 Penitentiary, but I am not sure that either the plan or 
 the practice of the establishment is so perfect as to admit 
 of no improvement. In the first place, I cannot but think
 
 DEFECTS OF THE PENITENTIARY. 137 
 
 that the Panopticon principle is on the whole preferable. 
 Facility of supervision is always important, and there is 
 no point in the present prison from which the keeper can 
 command a general and complete view, either of the cells 
 or of the exercise yards. The central observatory com- 
 mands only the corridors. In the second place, it strikes 
 me as a defect that there should be no entrance to the 
 cells from the corridors, by which a far more ready and 
 convenient access would be obtained. There is also a 
 defect in the construction of the exercise courts, in which 
 it is quite possible for the adjoining prisoners to hold con- 
 versation. 
 
 There is no chapel attached to this establishment, and 
 when divine service is performed, the clergyman takes 
 his station at the head of the corridors: the apertures 
 communicating with the cells are thrown open, and his 
 voice, I am assured, is distinctly audible, even by the 
 most distant prisoner. Strange to say, however and I 
 confess that in a state so religious as Pennsylvania, the 
 fact struck me with astonishment morning and eve- 
 ning prayers are unknown in the Penitentiary. Surely, 
 it is both wholesome and fitting that the days of these 
 suffering criminals should be begun and ended by an ap- 
 peal to the mercy of that Maker, whose laws they have 
 violated. It is true, that divine service is performed 
 once every Sunday; but this will scarcely be held suffi- 
 cient, either by the moralist, who simply regards the in- 
 terest of society in the reformation of a criminal, or by 
 him whose philanthropy is connected with the higher 
 hopes and motives of religion. 
 
 On the whole, I am inclined to prefer the system of 
 solitary confinement to that adopted in the prisons at Au- 
 burn and Charleston. The former obviates all necessity 
 for punishment of any kind, beyond that inflicted by the 
 execution of the sentence. Whatever be his sufferings, 
 the prisoner has the distinct knowledge that they are not 
 arbitrary or extra-judicial. Even amidst the solitude of 
 his cell, he feels that he is, in one sense, a free. man. 
 He undergoes the sentence of the law, but he is not de- 
 pendent on the capricious discretion of those by whom 
 he is surrounded. In Charleston, each prisoner knows 
 himself to be a slave. His punishment is, in truth, un-
 
 188 COMPARISON OF SOLITARY CONFINEMENT 
 
 limited; for its only measure is the conscience of his 
 gaoler, an unknown and indeterminate quantity. 
 
 There is nothing humiliating in solitary confinement. 
 The interests of society are protected by the removal of 
 the criminal, while the new circumstances in which he 
 is placed are precisely the most favourable to moral im- 
 provement. It is the numerous temptations of the world, 
 the scope which it affords for the gratification of strong 
 passion, that overpower the better principles implanted 
 in the heart of the most depraved of mankind. Remove 
 these temptations, place the criminal in a situation where 
 there are no warring influences to mislead his judgment; 
 let him receive religious instruction, and be taught the 
 nature and extent of his moral obligations, and when, 
 after such preparation, he is left to reflection, and com- 
 munion with his own conscience, all that human agency 
 can effect, has probably been done for his reformation. 
 
 Solitary confinement contributes to all this. It throws 
 the mind of the criminal back upon itself. It forces him 
 to think who never thought before. It removes all ob- 
 jects which can stimulate the evil passions of his nature. 
 It restores the prisoner to society; if not "a wiser and a 
 better man," at least undegraded by a course of servile 
 submission. His punishment has been that of a man, 
 not of a brute. He has suffered privation, but not in- 
 dignity. He has submitted to the law, and to the law 
 alone, and whatever debasement may still attach to his 
 character, is the offspring of his crime, not of his pe- 
 nalty. 
 
 The other system is far less favourable, I should ima- 
 gine, to moral improvement. The gaoler must necessa- 
 rily appear to the prisoners in the light of an arbitrary 
 tyrant. He is an object of fear and hatred. His inflic- 
 tions are accompanied by none of the solemnities of jus- 
 tice, and they are naturally followed by smothered ran- 
 cour and desire of revenge. Even where there is no 
 abuse of authority, it is impossible for those subjected to 
 it, to appreciate the motives for its rigid exercise. They 
 cannot be supposed to discriminate, between severity 
 and cruelty. 
 
 All this is unfortunate. The character of the prisoners 
 is rendered callous to shame; while their evil passions are
 
 WITH THE CHARLESTON SYSTEM. 199 
 
 in a state of permanent excitement. They are taught 
 obedience like spaniels, and by the same means. They 
 are forced down to the very lowest point of human de- 
 basement. Never again shall these men know the dig- 
 nity of self-respect; never again can they feel themselves 
 on a level with their fellow-men. Human endurance 
 can extend no farther than they have carried it; and it 
 were well that American legislators should remember, 
 that it is easy to degrade the freeman, but impossible to 
 elevate the slave. 
 
 One great advantage belongs to the Philadelphia sys- 
 tem. A prisoner, on being discharged, enters the world 
 without danger of recognition, and thus enjoys the benefit 
 of starting with a fair character. If his confinement has 
 been long, disease and the gibbet have probably disposed 
 of the great majority of his former companions in crime, 
 and in a country like the United States, nothing but ho- 
 nest industry is wanting to the attainment of indepen- 
 dence. But a convict discharged from a prison like those 
 of Charleston and Auburn, must continue through life a 
 marked man. His face is known to thousands, and, go 
 where he will unless he fly altogether from the haunts 
 of men the story of his past life will follow him. Ex- 
 cluded from communion with the more respectable por- 
 tion of the community, he will probably again seek his 
 associates among the dissolute. His former course of crime 
 will then be renewed, and all hope of reformation will be 
 at an end for ever. 
 
 It is impossible, however, to praise too highly that 
 active benevolence, which, in America, takes so deep an 
 interest in the reformation of the objects of punishment. 
 In their meliorations of prison discipline, the people of 
 this country have unquestionably taken the lead of Eu- 
 rope. In old-established communities the progress of im- 
 provement is necessarily slow, and there are difficulties 
 to be overcome which are fortunately unknown on this 
 side of the Atlantic. Let the Americans, therefore, con- 
 tinue as they have begun, to lead the way in this im- 
 portant department of practical philanthropy. By doing 
 so, they will earn a distinction for their country more ho- 
 nourable than could result from the highest eminence in 
 arts, or achievements in arms.
 
 190 UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 Of all the American colleges beyond the limits of New 
 England, that of Pennsylvania is perhaps the most distin- 
 guished. Its medical school is decidedly so, and an Escu- 
 lapian armed with a Philadelphia diploma, is held to com- 
 mit slaughter on his fellow-creatures according to the 
 most approved principles of modern science. Till within 
 a few years, however, the scientific and literary depart- 
 ments of this institution had fallen into comparative ne- 
 glect. But a revolution in an American college is an ea- 
 sier affair than the introduction of the most trifling change 
 in such establishments as Oxford or Cambridge. The 
 statutes were revised by a board of trustees appointed for 
 the purpose. The system of education was corrected and 
 enlarged, and men of competent talent and acquirements 
 were invited to preside over the various departments of 
 instruction. A new edifice was erected, and an extensive 
 addition made to the former beggarly account of philo- 
 sophical apparatus. The natural consequences followed. 
 The number of students was considerably increased, and 
 the benefits of the institution were augmented, not only 
 in magnitude, but in extent of diffusion. 
 
 Jn this establishment, there is no discretion permitted 
 in regard to the course of study to be followed by the stu- 
 dent. Every one is compelled to travel in the same track, 
 and to reach the same point, whatever may be his future 
 destination in life. It is, perhaps, quite right that such 
 portions of a university course should be considered im- 
 perative, as relate to the preparatory development of the 
 intellectual powers; but it does appear somewhat absurd 
 to insist on cramming every boy with mathematics, che- 
 mistry, and natural philosophy. In America, the period 
 devoted to education is so short, that there can be no folly 
 greater than that of frittering it away in a variety of pur- 
 suits, which contribute little to the general elevation of 
 the intellect. It is the certain result of attempting too 
 much, that nothing will be accomplished. With such a 
 system of education, the standard of acquirement must of 
 necessity be greatly lower than in other countries, where 
 excellence in some one department constitutes the great 
 object of individual ambition. The truth of this position 
 is in perfect accordance with the state of knowledge in 
 America. In illustration of it, I shall direct the attention
 
 SYSTEM OF EDUCATION. 19 J 
 
 of the reader to an extract from the report of the Board 
 of Trustees of this very University of Pennsylvania. Al- 
 luding to the prescribed course of education, these gentle- 
 men assure the public, that " Its object is to communicate 
 a profound and critical knowledge of the classics ; an exten- 
 sive acquaintance with the different branches of mathemati- 
 cal science, natural philosophy, and chemistry, combined 
 with all the varieties of knowledge comprehended within 
 the sphere of moral philosophy, logic, rhetoric, metaphysics, 
 and the evidences of Christianity. This course of instruction 
 will occupy FOUR YEARS!" 
 
 Had the number of years to be devoted to the acquisi- 
 tion of this vast mass of knowledge been forty instead of 
 four, the promise of the Board of Trustees might still have 
 been objectionable on the score of hyperbole. In Europe 
 no body of gentlemen connected with any public semina- 
 ry, durst have ventured on such a statement. Respect 
 for their own character, and the certainty of ridicule, 
 would have prevented it. But in America it is different. 
 The standard of knowledge being there infinitely lower, 
 the Trustees promised nothing more than they might rea- 
 sonably hope to accomplish. On the Western shores of 
 the Atlantic, a young man is believed to have " a pro- 
 found and critical knowledge of the classics," when he 
 can manage to construe a passage of Caesar or Virgil, and 
 by the help of the lexicon haply of Xenophon or Ana- 
 creon. And so .with the other branches of acquirement. 
 In mathematics, it is scarcely meant to be implied that 
 the student shall have mastered the works of La Grange 
 or La Place; nor in metaphysics, that he shall even un- 
 derstand the philosophy of Kant or Cousin, but simply that 
 he shall have acquired enough to constitute, in the eyes 
 of the American public, " an extensive acquaintance with 
 the different branches of mathematical science, combined 
 with all the varieties of knowledge comprehended within 
 the sphere of moral philosophy, logic, rhetoric, and meta- 
 physics." 
 
 It thus appears that what in one country would be no- 
 thing better than impudent quackery, becomes the lan- 
 guage of sober truth in another. The same terms carry 
 different meanings on different sides of the water, and the 
 cause of the discrepancy is too obvious to be mistaken.
 
 192 STATE OF LITERATURE. 
 
 Having alluded to this subject, I would willingly be per- 
 mitted to offer a few observations on the interesting ques- 
 tion, How far the condition of society in the United 
 States, and the influence of its institutions are favourable, 
 or otherwise, to the cultivation of philosophy and the 
 higher literature ? 
 
 The termination of the Revolutionary war left the United 
 States with a population graduating in civilization from 
 slaves to planters. The scale went low enough, but unfor- 
 tunately not very high. The great mass of the white po- 
 pulation, especially in the Northern States, were by ne 
 means deficient in such education as was suited to their 
 circumstances. In a country to which abject poverty 
 was happily a stranger, there existed few obstacles to the 
 general diffusion of elementary instruction. But between 
 the amount of acquirement of the richer and the poorer 
 orders, little disparity existed. Where the necessity of 
 labour was imposed on all, it was not probable that any 
 demand should exist for learning not immediately con- 
 nected with the business of life. To the grower of indi- 
 go or tobacco; to the feller of timber, or the retailer of 
 cutlery and dry goods, the refinements of literature were 
 necessarily unknown. In her whole population, America 
 did not number a single scholar, in the higher acceptation 
 of the term, and had every book in her whole territory 
 been contributed to form a national library, it would not 
 have afforded the materials from which a scholar could 
 be framed. 
 
 It is true, that in several of the States there existed col- 
 leges, but these were little better than schools without 
 the necessary discipline; and had their pretensions been 
 greater, it is very certain that such poor and distant es- 
 tablishments could offer no inducement to foreigners of 
 high acquirement, to exchange " the ampler ether, the di- 
 viner air," of their native universities, for the atmosphere 
 of Yale or Harvard. At all events, the Americans had 
 no desire to draw our men of letters from their learned 
 retreats. In the condition of society I have described, it 
 was impossible that learning should engross any portion of 
 the public favour. Even to the present day, the value 
 of education in the United States is estimated, not by its 
 result on the mind of the student, in strengthening his fa-
 
 EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY. 193 
 
 culties, purifying his taste, and enlarging and elevating 
 the sphere of thought and consciousness, but by the amount 
 of available knowledge which it enables him to bring to the 
 common business of life. 
 
 The consequences of this error, when participated in 
 by a whole nation, have been most pernicious. It has 
 unquestionably contributed to perpetuate the very igno- 
 rance in which it originated. It has done its part, in con- 
 nexion with other causes, in depriving the United States 
 of the most enduring source of national greatness. Nor 
 can we hope that the evil will be removed, until the vul- 
 gar and unworthy sophistry which has imposed on the 
 judgment, even of the most intelligent Americans, shall 
 cease to influence some wiser and unborn generation. 
 
 The education of the clergy differed in little from that 
 of laymen. Of theological learning there was none, nor 
 did there exist the means of acquiring it. It is probable, 
 that within the limits of the United States, there was not 
 to be found a single company of the works of the Fathers. 
 But this mattered not. Protestantism is never very ame- 
 nable to authority, and least of all when combined with 
 democracy. Neither the pastors nor their flocks were in- 
 clined to attach much value to primitive authority, and 
 from the solid rock of the Scriptures, each man was pleased 
 to hew out his own religion, in such form and propor- 
 tions as were suited to the measure of his taste and know- 
 ledge. It was considered enough that the clergy could 
 read the Bible in their vernacular tongue, and expound 
 its doctrines to the satisfaction of a congregation, not more 
 learned than themselves. To the present day, in one only 
 of the colleges has any provision been made for clerical 
 education. Many of the religious sects, however, have 
 established theological academies, in which candidates for 
 the ministry may, doubtless, acquire such accomplish- 
 ment as is deemed necessary jbr the satisfactory discharge 
 of their high function. * 
 
 * The American Almanac for 1831 contains a list of all the theological 
 establishments in the United States, with the number of students at each 
 seminary, and of the volumes contained in its library. According to this 
 document, the whole number of theological students is 657. The com- 
 bined aggregate of volumes in possession of all the institutions is 43, 450. 
 The best furnished library in the list is that of the theological depart- 
 
 25
 
 194 OPINIONS OF JEFFERSON. 
 
 In short, the state of American society is such as to af- 
 ford no leisure for any thing so unmarketable as abstract 
 knowledge. For the pursuit of such studies, it is neces- 
 sary that the proficient should " fit audience find, though 
 few." He must be able to calculate on sympathy at 
 least, if not encouragement, and assuredly he would find 
 neither in the United States. 
 
 Whatever were the defects of Jefferson, he seems to 
 have been impressed .with a deep consciousness of the de- 
 ficiencies of his countrymen. He saw that the elements 
 of knowledge were diffused every where, but that all its 
 higher fruits were wanting. He endeavoured, not only 
 to rouse his countrymen to a sense of their intellectual 
 condition, but to provide the means by which it might 
 be improved. With this view he founded a university 
 in his native State, and his last worldly anxieties were 
 devoted to its advancement. Jefferson felt strongly, that 
 while philosophy and literature were excluded from the 
 fair objects of professional ambition, and the United 
 States continued to be dependent for all advances in know- 
 ledge, on importations from Europe, she was wanting in 
 the noblest element of national greatness. Though the 
 commerce of mind be regulated by loftier principles than 
 more vulgar traffic, it should consist, unquestionably, of 
 exchange of some kind. To receive, and not to give, is 
 to subsist on charity; to be a mute and changeling in the 
 great family of nations. 
 
 The obstacles to success, however, were too great for 
 the powers of Jefferson to overcome. In a community 
 where the gradations of opulence constitute the great dis- 
 tinction between man and man, the pursuits which lead 
 most readily to its attainment will certainly engross the 
 whole volume of national talent. In England there are 
 
 ment of Yale College, which contains 8000 volumes. None of the 
 others approach nearly to this amount. The institution of New Hampton 
 possesses only 100 volumes, and is attended by fourteen students. Cal- 
 culating each book to consist, on the average, of three volumes, the 
 New Hampton Library contains thirty-three works on theology. But 
 this is not all: Seven of these establishments possess no libraries at all, 
 so that the learning of the students must come by inspiration. Until the 
 year 1808, no seminaries for religious instruction appear to have existed 
 in the United States. One was founded in that year, another in 1812, 
 but the great majority are of far more recent origin.
 
 AMERICA UNFAVOURABLE TO LITERATURE. 195 
 
 various coexistent aristocracies, which act as mutual cor- 
 rectives, and, by multiplying the objects of ambition, 
 give amplitude and diffusion to its efforts. Jn America 
 there exists but one, and the impulse it awakens is, of 
 course, violent in proportion to its concentration. Jef- 
 ferson, therefore, failed in this great object, towards the 
 accomplishment of which his anxious thoughts were di- 
 rected. As a politician, he exercised a far greater influ- 
 ence over the national mind than any other statesman his 
 country has produced. But in his endeavours to direct 
 the intellectual impulses of his countrymen towards lof- 
 tier objects, the very structure of society presented an in- 
 superable barrier to success. 
 
 I am aware, it will be urged, that the state of things 
 I have described is merely transient, and that when po- 
 pulation shall become more dense, and increased compe- 
 tition shall render commerce and agriculture less lucra- 
 tive, the pursuits of science and literature will engross 
 their due portion of the national talent. I hope it may 
 be so, but yet it cannot be disguised, that there hitherto 
 has been no visible approximation towards such a condi- 
 tion of society. In the present generation of Americans, 
 I can detect no symptom of improving taste, or increasing 
 elevation of intellect. On the contrary, the fact has been 
 irresistibly forced on my conviction, that they are alto- 
 gether inferior to those, whose place, in the course of na- 
 ture, they are soon destined to occupy. Compared with 
 their fathers, I have no hesitation in pronouncing the 
 younger portion of the richer classes to be less liberal, 
 less enlightened, less observant of the proprieties of life, 
 and certainly far less pleasing in manner and deport- 
 ment. 
 
 In England every new generation starts forward into 
 life with advantages far superior to its predecessor. Each 
 successive crop if I may so write of legislators, is 
 marked by increase of knowledge and enlargement of 
 thought. The standard of acquirement necessary to at- 
 tain distinction in public life, is now confessedly higher 
 than it was thirty years ago. The intellectual currency 
 of the country, instead of being depreciated, has advanced 
 in value, while the issue has been prodigiously enlarged. 
 True, there are no giants in our days, but this may be in
 
 196 OBSTACLES TO IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 part at least accounted for, by a general increase of sta- 
 ture in the people. We have gained at least an inch upon 
 our fathers, and have the gratifying prospect of appear- 
 ing diminutive when compared with our children. 
 
 But if this be so in America, I confess my observation 
 is at fault. I can discern no prospect of her soon be- 
 coming a mental benefactor to the world. Elementary 
 instruction, it is true, has generally kept pace with the 
 rapid progress of population; but while the steps of youth 
 are studiously directed to the base of the mountain of 
 knowledge, no facilities have been provided for scaling 
 its summit. There is at this moment nothing in the United 
 States worthy of the name of a library. Not only is there 
 an entire absence of learning, in the higher sense of the 
 term, but an absolute want of the material from which 
 alone learning can be extracted. At present an Ameri- 
 can might study every book within the limits of the 
 Union, and still be regarded in many parts of Europe 
 especially in Germany as a man comparatively ignorant. 
 And why does a great nation thus voluntarily continue in 
 a state of intellectual destitution so anomalous and humi- 
 liating ? There are libraries to be sold in Europe. Books 
 might be imported in millions. Is it poverty, or is it 
 ignorance of their value, that withholds America from 
 the purchase ?* I should be most happy to believe the 
 former. 
 
 In one point of view, at least, the strong and I fear 
 not to say, the insuperable prejudice again&t the claims 
 of primogeniture, is unfavourable to national advance- 
 ment. It must continue to prevent any large accumula- 
 tions of individual wealth, and the formation of a class 
 which might afford encouragement to those branches of 
 science and literature, which cannot be expected from 
 
 * The value of books imported from Europe during the year 1829- 
 30 for public institutions, amounted only to 10,829 dollars! Even of this 
 wretched sum, I am assured the greater part was expended in works 
 strictly new. Of the old treasures of learning, America seems content 
 to remain destitute. 
 
 In regard to science, it is a fact scarcely credible, that the second 
 maritime power in the world does not at the present moment possess a 
 single astronomical observatory, and is dependent on France and Eng- 
 land for the calculations of an ephemeris by which her ships may be 
 enabled in tolerable safety to navigate the ocean!
 
 PROSPECTS IN REGARD TO LITERATURE. 197 
 
 their very nature to become generally popular. Nor is 
 it likely that the impediments to which I have alluded, 
 will be at all diminished by the character of the govern- 
 ment, on which I shall hazard a few observations. 
 
 When we speak of a government being popular or 
 otherwise, we mean that it is more or less influenced by 
 the prevailing currents of opinion and feeling in those 
 subjected to its action. A highly popular government, 
 therefore, can neither be in advance of the average intel- 
 ligence of a people, nor can it lag behind it. It is, and 
 must be, the mere reflex of the public mind in all its 
 strength and weakness; the representative not only of its 
 higher qualities and virtues, but of all the errors, follies, 
 passions, prejudices, and ignorances by which it is de- 
 based. 
 
 It is in vain, therefore, to expect from such a govern- 
 ment any separate and independent action. It cannot 
 react upon, it is merely co-operative with, the people. It 
 imbodies no self-existent or countervailing influence. It 
 is only when it ceases to be expressly representative, and 
 stands on a firmer basis than mere popular favour, that a 
 government can acquire a positive and determinate cha- 
 racter, and be recognised as an influence distinct from 
 that of national opinion. 
 
 Neither in the American legislative or executive, is 
 there any thing of this latter character discernible. The 
 institutions of the United States afford the purest speci- 
 men the world has yet seen, of a representative govern- 
 ment; of an executive, whose duties are those of mere 
 passive agency; of a legislative, which serves but as the 
 vocal organ of the sole and real dictator, the people. Into 
 whatever speculations, therefore, we may be induced to 
 enter, either with regard to the present condition or far- 
 ther prospects of the United States, it would be mere 
 folly to attribute influence of any kind to a government, 
 which, in truth, is nothing more than a mere recipient of 
 popular impulse. 
 
 To an American of talent, there exist no objects to 
 stimulate political ambition, save the higher offices of the 
 federal government, or of the individual States. The 
 latter, indeed, are chiefly valued for the increased facili- 
 ties they afford for the attainment of the former; but to
 
 198 EFFECT OF DEMOCRATIC INSTITUTIONS 
 
 either, the only passport is popular favour. Acquire- 
 ments of any sort, therefore, which the great mass of the 
 people do not value, or are incapable of appreciating, are 
 of no practical advantage; for they bring with them nei- 
 ther fame, nor more substantial reward. But this is un- 
 derstating the case. Such knowledge, if displayed at all, 
 would not merely be a dead letter in the qualifications of 
 a candidate for political power, it would oppose a decided 
 obstacle to his success. The sovereign people in Ame- 
 rica are given to be somewhat intolerant of acquirement, 
 the immediate utility of which they cannot appreciate, 
 but which they do feel has imparted something of mental 
 superiority to its possessor. This is particularly the case 
 with regard to literary accomplishment. The cry of the 
 people is for "equal and universal education;" and 
 attainments which circumstances have placed beyond 
 their own reach, they would willingly discountenance 
 in others. 
 
 It is true, indeed, that with regard to mere professional 
 acquirements a different feeling prevails. The people 
 have no objection to a clever surgeon or a learned phy- 
 sician, because they profit by their skill. An ingenious 
 mechanic they respect. There is a fair field for a che- 
 mist or engineer. But, in regard to literature, they can 
 discover no practical benefits of which it is productive. 
 In their eyes, it is a mere appanage of aristocracy, and 
 whatever mental superiority it is felt to confer, is at the 
 expense of the self-esteem of less educated men. I have 
 myself heard in Congress the imputation of scholarship 
 bandied about as a reproach; and if the epithet of " lite- 
 rary gentleman " may be considered as malignant, as it 
 did sometimes appear to be gratuitous, there assuredly 
 existed ample apology for the indignant feeling it ap- 
 peared to excite. The truth, I believe, is, that in their 
 political representatives, the people demand just so much 
 knowledge and accomplishment as they conceive to be 
 practically available for the promotion of their own in- 
 terests. This, in their opinion, is enough. More were 
 but to gild refined gold, and paint the lily; operations 
 which could add nothing to the value of the metal, or 
 the fragrance of the flower. 
 
 The consequence of all this has been, that the standard
 
 ON THE MEND OP THE COUNTRY. 199 
 
 of judgment, in regard to public men, is decidedly lower 
 in the United States than in most countries of Europe. It 
 is, perhaps, natural that the demand for political accom- 
 plishment should not precede its necessity; and I am far 
 from wishing to assert, that American statesmen have not 
 been hitherto found adequate to all the wants of the com- 
 monwealth. But if it be the great object of enlightened 
 institutions to encourage the development of the highest 
 faculties; and, generally, to raise man in the scale of in- 
 tellectual being: if knowledge be confessedly power, and 
 freedom from prejudice a nobler enfranchisement than 
 mere physical liberty, then I fear that, in reference to 
 this great and ultimate function, those of the United 
 States will be found wanting. I am far from arguing, 
 that science and literature should be indebted for their 
 promotion to a system of direct encouragement. Such 
 policy is always dubious, and has rarely proved success- 
 ful. But I certainly regard, as one most important stan- 
 dard of excellence in a government, the degree in which, 
 by its very constitution, it tends to call into action the 
 higher powers and qualities of the human mind. It is a 
 poor policy, which, in matters of intellect, looks not be- 
 yond the necessities of the present hour. There is no 
 economy so short-sighted, as that which would limit the 
 expenditure of mind; and assuredly the condition of so- 
 ciety cannot be desirable, in which great qualities of 
 every sort do not find efficient excitement and ample 
 field for display. 
 
 How far the influences which have hitherto prevented 
 the intellectual advancement of the Americans, may here- 
 after be counteracted by others more favourable to the 
 cultivation of learning, I presume not to predict. There 
 is certainly no deficiency of talent in the United States; 
 no deficiency of men, stored even to abundance with 
 knowledge, practically applicable to the palpable and 
 grosser wants of their countrymen. But of those higher 
 branches of acquirement, which profess not to minister 
 to mere vulgar necessities, nor to enlarge the sphere of 
 physical enjoyment, and of which the only result is the 
 elevation of the intellect, I fear it must be acknowledged 
 she has not yet been taught even to appreciate the value.
 
 200 AMERICAN NAVAL OFFICERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 THE United States' hotel, where I had taken up my 
 abode, was a favourite resort of American naval officers. 
 An opportunity was thus afforded me of forming ac- 
 quaintance with several, to whom I was indebted for 
 many kind and most obliging attentions. It must be 
 confessed, that these republicans have carried with them 
 their full share of "Old Albion's spirit of the sea;" for 
 better sailors, in the best and highest acceptation of the 
 term, I do not believe the world can produce. During 
 the course of my tour, I had a good deal of intercourse 
 with the members of this profession; and I must say, that 
 in an officer of the United States' navy, I have uniform- 
 ly found, not only a well-informed gentleman, but a per- 
 son on whose kindness and good offices to a stranger, I 
 might with confidence rely. They betray nothing of that 
 silly spirit of bluster and bravado, so prevalent among 
 other classes of their countrymen; and even in conversing 
 on the events of the late war, they spoke of their suc- 
 cesses in a tone of modesty which tended to raise even 
 the high impression I had already received of their gal- 
 lantry. 
 
 In company of one of these gentlemen, I visited the 
 Navy Yard, and went over a splendid line-of-battle ship, 
 the Pennsylvania. She is destined to carry a hundred 
 and forty-four guns; and is, I believe, the largest ship in 
 the world. I likewise inspected a magnificent frigate, 
 called the Raritan. Both of these vessels are on the 
 stocks, but I was assured that a couple of months would 
 suffice at any time to make them ready for sea. They 
 are completely covered in from the weather; and every 
 aperture of the wood is carefully filled with sea-salt to 
 prevent decay. Great faith is placed in the efficacy of 
 this preservative. 
 
 Messrs. Carey and Lea are the chief booksellers of 
 Philadelphia, and, I believe, of the Union. Their esta-
 
 REPRINTS OF ENGLISH WORKS. 201 
 
 blishment is very extensive, and they are evidently men 
 of much sagacity and enterprise. The principal part of 
 their business consists in issuing reprints of English 
 works, which either from their merit or their notoriety, 
 may be expected to have a considerable circulation on 
 this side of the water. Of original publications the num- 
 ber is comparatively small; though, I am told, of late 
 years it has considerably increased. 
 
 The three great publishing cities of the Union are 
 Boston, New York, and Philadelphia. From the first 
 and last of these places I have seen some very respecta- 
 ble specimens of typography; but, in general, the re- 
 prints of English works are executed in the coarsest 
 and most careless manner. It is quite a mistake to sup- 
 pose that books are cheaper in the United States than in 
 England. If there were no copyright, and the British 
 public would be content to read books printed in the 
 most wretched manner on whitey-brown paper, there 
 can be no doubt that the English bibliopole would beat 
 his American brother out of the field. A proof of this 
 is, that the British editions of works of which the copy- 
 right has expired, are quite as cheap, and much superior 
 in execution to those produced in this country. 
 
 Copyright in the United States is not enjoyable by a 
 foreigner, though an American can hold it in England. 
 The consequence is, that an English author derives no 
 benefit from the republication of his work in America, 
 while every Englishman who purchases the work of an 
 American, is taxed in order to put money into the pock- 
 et of the latter. There is no reciprocity in this; and it 
 is really not easy to see why Mr. Washington Irving or 
 Mr. Cooper should enjoy greater privileges in this coun- 
 try than are accorded to Mr. Bulwer or Mr. Theodore 
 Hook in the United States. There is an old proverb, 
 "What is good for the goose is good for the gander," 
 which will be found quite as applicable to the policy of 
 Parliament as the practice of the poultry-yard. It is to 
 be hoped this homely apophthegm will not escape the 
 notice of the Government, and that, by an act of signal 
 justice, (the abolition of American copyright in Eng- 
 land,) it will compel the United States to adopt a wiser 
 and more liberal system. 
 
 26
 
 202 AMERICAN BOOKS. 
 
 All novels, good, bad, and indifferent, which appear 
 in England, seem to be reprinted in this country. In- 
 deed, the American appetite in this respect is, apparent- 
 ly, quite as indiscriminate as our own. A. good deal, 
 also, of the more valuable British literature issues from 
 the Philadelphia press, but in the most democratic form. 
 I have been sometimes amused at observing the entire 
 transmogrification undergone by one of Mr. Murray's 
 hot-pressed and broad-margined volumes under the hands 
 of an American bookseller. It enters his shop a three 
 guinea quarto; it comes out a four and twopenny duo- 
 decimo. The metamorphosis reminds one of a lord 
 changing clothes with a beggar. The man is the same, 
 but he certainly owes nothing to the toilet. 
 
 The Americans are as jealous on the subject of their 
 literature as on other matters of national pretension. 
 The continual importation of European books contri- 
 butes to excite a consciousness of inferiority which is by 
 no means pleasant. There are many projects afloat for 
 getting rid of this mental bondage, and establishing in- 
 tellectual independence. By one party it is proposed to 
 exclude English works altogether, and forbid their re- 
 publication under a high penalty. " Americans," say 
 the advocates of this system, "will never write books 
 when they can be had so cheaply from England. Native 
 talent is kept under; it wants protection against the com- 
 petition of foreign genius. Give it the monopoly of the 
 home market; deal with intellect as you do with calico 
 and broad-cloth, and do not prematurely force our li- 
 terary labourers into a contest with men enjoying the 
 advantages of larger libraries, learning, and leisure." In 
 short, what these gentlemen want is, that ignorance and 
 barbarism should be established by legislative enactment; 
 a policy which, till America has suffered more than she 
 has yet done from the inroads of knowledge, will proba- 
 bly strike a foreigner as somewhat gratuitous. 
 
 If the American legislature, however, has not done 
 this, it has certainly done what is something akin to it. 
 A duty of thirty cents, or about fifteen pence a pound, is 
 charged on all imported books, which, in every point of 
 view, is highly injudicious. In the first place, American 
 books require no protection, because the expense of copy-
 
 COURTS OF LAW. 203 
 
 right, and of transport, is far more than enough to secure 
 to native booksellers the undisturbed possession of their 
 own market. When a book is of a character to lead to 
 republication in the United States, of course the only ef- 
 fect of the duty is to force those, who might wish better 
 copies, to furnish their libraries with inferior material. 
 The number of these, however, will be found very small. 
 In this country, when a book is once read, it is cast aside 
 and thought of no more. In comparatively few instances, 
 is it bound and consigned to the shelves of the book- 
 case; and therefore it is, that the purchasers of books al- 
 most uniformly prefer the very cheapest form. The in- 
 jurious effect, however, of the duty on imported works, 
 is felt with regard to those which, although valuable, are 
 not of a character to repay the cost of republication. The 
 duty in all such cases acts not as a protection for when 
 the book is not reprinted there is nothing to protect 
 but as a tax upon knowledge; or, in other words, a pre- 
 mium for the perpetuation of ignorance. 
 
 During my stay at Philadelphia, I frequently visited 
 the courts of law. The proceedings I happened to wit- 
 ness were in nothing remarkable, and I have already 
 described the externals of an American Court. It is not 
 unusual among the lower orders in England, when any 
 knotty point is proposed for discussion, to say it would 
 " puzzle a Philadelphia lawyer." To do this, however, 
 it must be knotty indeed, for I have never met a body of 
 men more distinguished by acuteness and extensive pro- 
 fessional information than the members of the Philadel- 
 phia bar. 
 
 In the American courts there is much tacit respect paid 
 to English decisions, each volume of which is reprinted 
 in this country as soon as it appears. Indeed, but for 
 these, law in America would soon become an inextricable 
 jumble. It is impossible to expect much harmony of de- 
 cision from twenty-four independent tribunals, unless 
 there exist some common land-marks to serve as guides 
 to opinion. Even as it is, the most anomalous discrepan- 
 cies occur between the decisions of the different State 
 Courts; but without a constant influx of English authori- 
 ties, the laws regarding property would be speedily over-
 
 204 HAL-ADMINISTRATION OF LAW. 
 
 cast by such a mass of contradictory precedents, as to be 
 utterly irrevocable to any system. 
 
 The low salaries of the judges constitute matter of 
 general complaint among the members of the bar, both 
 at Philadelphia and New York. These are so inade- 
 quate, when compared with the income of a well-em- 
 ployed barrister, that the State is deprived of the advan- 
 tage of having the highest legal talent on the bench. 
 Men from the lower walks of the profession, therefore, 
 are generally promoted to the office, and for the sake of 
 a wretched saving of a few thousand dollars, the public 
 are content to submit their lives and properties to the 
 decision of men of inferior intelligence and learning. 
 
 In one respect, I am told the very excess of democra- 
 cy defeats itself: In some States, the judges are so in- 
 ordinately underpaid, that no lawyer who does not pos- 
 sess a considerable private fortune, can afford to accept 
 the office. From this circumstance, something of aris- 
 tocratic distinction has become connected with it, and a 
 seat on the bench is now more greedily coveted than it 
 would be, were the salary more commensurate with the 
 duties of the situation. 
 
 All lawyers, with whom I have conversed, agree, that 
 the discrepancy between the laws of the different States 
 is productive of much injury. The statutes of one State 
 are often defeated in the tribunals of another, when not 
 in accordance with the tone of public opinion in the lat- 
 ter. A laxity thus arises in the administration of muni- 
 cipal law incompatible with good government. The 
 criminal codes are likewise highly discordant, and from 
 the variety of jurisdictions, the probability of crime be- 
 ing followed by punishment is much diminished. When 
 a man guilty of an offence in one State escapes into ano- 
 ther, he can only be apprehended on the formal demand 
 of the executive authority of the State having jurisdic- 
 tion of the crime. Before the necessary machinery, 
 however, can be set at work, he has generally time and 
 opportunity for a second evasion, and it thus often hap- 
 pens that the ends of justice are entirely defeated. 
 
 There can be no doubt that the want of uniformity in 
 the administration of justice, is injurious both to public 
 morals and private security. But the evil is one natu-
 
 SOCIETY IN PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 rally arising from the political subdivisions of the Union, 
 and for which, with the jealousy which prevails of the 
 jurisdiction of the federal government, it is perhaps im- 
 possible to devise a remedy. With so many co-ex- 
 istent and independent legislatures, uniformity of legis- 
 lation is impossible; and we can only hope that in the 
 growing political experience of American statesmen, the 
 evil may be diminished, though there exist no prospect 
 of its being entirely removed. 
 
 Philadelphia may be called the Bath of the United 
 States, and many individuals who have amassed fortunes 
 in other parts of the Union, select it as the place of their 
 residence. Money-getting is not here the furious and 
 absorbing pursuit of all ranks and conditions of men. 
 On the contrary, every thing goes on quietly. The peo- 
 ple seem to dabble in business, rather than follow it 
 with that impetuous energy observable in other cities. 
 The truth is, that a large portion of the capital of the 
 Philadelphians is invested in New York, where there is 
 ample field for its profitable employment. The extent 
 of their own traffic is limited, and, in this respect, I 
 should imagine it to be inferior even to Boston. But, 
 in point of opulence, Philadelphia is, undoubtedly, the 
 first city in the Union. It is the great focus of Ame- 
 rican capital, the pecuniary reservoir which fills the va- 
 rious channels of profitable enterprise. 
 
 In Philadelphia it is the fashion to be scientific, and the 
 young ladies occasionally display the bas bleu, in a de- 
 gree, which, in other cities, would be considered rather 
 alarming. I remember, at a dinner party, being instruct- 
 ed as to the component parts of the atmosphere by a fair 
 spinster, who anticipated the approach of a period when 
 oxygen would supersede champagne, and young gentle- 
 men and ladies would hob or nob in gas. The vulgar term 
 drunk would then give place to inflated, certainly more 
 euphonious to ears polite, and the coarser stimulants, 
 such as alcohol and tobacco, in all their forms and uses, 
 be regarded with contempt. 
 
 There is no American city in which the system of ex- 
 clusion is so rigidly observed as in Philadelphia. The 
 ascent of a parvenu into the aristocratic circle is slow 
 and difficult. There is a sort of holy alliance between
 
 206 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 
 
 its members to forbid all unauthorized approach. Claims 
 are canvassed, and pretensions weighed; manners, for- 
 tune, tastes, habits, and descent undergo a rigid exami- 
 nation; and from the temper of the judges, the chances 
 are, that the final oscillation of the scale, is unfavourable 
 to the reception of the candidate. I remember being 
 present at a party, of which the younger members ex- 
 pressed a strong desire to enliven the dulness of the city, 
 by getting up a series of public balls. The practicability 
 of this project became matter of general discussion, and 
 it was at length given up, simply because there were 
 many families confessedly so respectable as to afford no 
 tangible ground for exclusion, and yet so unfashionable 
 as to render their admission a nuisance of the first mag- 
 nitude. 
 
 I have already alluded to the existence of this aristo- 
 cratic feeling in New York, but it certainly is there far 
 less prevalent than in Philadelphia. This may easily be 
 accounted for. In the former city, the vicissitudes of 
 trade, the growth and dissipation of opulence, are far 
 more rapid. Rich men spring up like mushrooms. 
 Fortunes are made and lost by a single speculation. A 
 man may go to bed at night worth less than nothing, and 
 pull off his nightcap in the morning with some hun- 
 dred thousand dollars waiting his acceptance. There is 
 comparatively no settled and permanent body of leading 
 capitalists, and, consequently, less room for that sort of 
 defensive league which naturally takes place among men 
 of common interests and position in society. 
 
 In Philadelphia, on the other hand, the pursuits of 
 commerce are confined within narrower limits. There 
 is no field for speculation on a great scale, and the regu- 
 lar trade of the place is engrossed by old-established 
 houses, which enjoy a sort of prescriptive confidence, 
 against which, younger establishments, however respec- 
 table, find it in vain to contend. The keener, and more 
 enterprising traders, therefore, generally remove to New 
 York, and Philadelphia continues comparatively untrou- 
 bled by those fluctuations of wealth, which impede any 
 permanent and effective union among its aristocracy. 
 
 In society in Philadelphia, I had the good fortune to 
 meet the Count de Survilliers, better known by the un-
 
 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 2Q7 
 
 tilled name of Joseph Bonaparte. This person has pur- 
 chased an estate in the neighbourhood, and by his sim- 
 plicity and benevolence of character, has succeeded in 
 winning golden opinions from all classes of Americans. 
 He often visits Philadelphia, and mingles a good deal in 
 the society of the place. In the party where I first met 
 him, a considerable time elapsed before I was aware of 
 the presence of a person so remarkable. He was at 
 length pointed out to my observation, with an offer of 
 introduction, which I thought proper to decline; being 
 aware, that in a work with which he was probably unac- 
 quainted, I had spoken of him in a manner, which, whe- 
 ther just or otherwise, made it indelicate that I should 
 be obtruded on his notice. 
 
 Joseph Bonaparte, in person, is about the middle 
 height, but round and corpulent. In the form of his 
 head and features there certainly exists a resemblance 
 to Napoleon, but in the expression of the countenance 
 there is none. I remember, at the Pergola Theatre of 
 Florence, discovering Louis Bonaparte from his likeness 
 to the Emperor, which is very striking, but I am by no 
 means confident that I should have been equally success- 
 ful with Joseph. There is nothing about him indicative 
 of high intellect. His eye is dull and heavy; his man- 
 ner ungraceful and deficient in that ease and dignity 
 which we vulgar people are apt to number among the 
 necessary attributes of majesty. But Joseph was not 
 bred to kingcraft, and seems to have been forced into it 
 rather as a sort of political stop gap, than from any par- 
 ticular aptitude or inclination for the duties of sovereign- 
 ty. I am told he converses without any appearance of 
 reserve on the circumstances of his short and troubled 
 reign if reign, indeed, it can be called in Spain. He 
 attributes more than half his misfortunes, to the jealou- 
 sies and intrigues of the unruly marshals, over whom he 
 could exercise no authority. He admits the full extent 
 of his unpopularity, but claims credit for a sincere desire 
 to benefit the people. 
 
 One circumstance connected with his deportment I 
 particularly remember. The apartment was warm, and 
 the ex-king evidently felt it so, for taking out his pocket 
 handkerchief, he deliberately mopped his bald " dis-
 
 208 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 
 
 crowned head," with a hand which one would certainly 
 have guessed to have had more connexion with a spit 
 than a sceptre. 
 
 I remained a fortnight waiting for a change of wea- 
 ther, but it never came. The roads, however, had be- 
 come quite practicable for travelling, and I, at length, 
 determined on departure. At five o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, I accordingly drove to Market Street, where I took 
 possession of a place in a sleigh shaped like an omnibus, 
 which contained accommodation for about as many pas- 
 sengers. The snow lay deep on the ground, and the 
 weather was cold in the extreme. After some delay the 
 vehicle got into motion, and when we reached the 
 Schuylkill, which is crossed by a wooden bridge of cu- 
 rious mechanism, I looked back on the Quaker city, yet 
 glimmering in the distance, and hade farewell to it for 
 ever.
 
 JOURNEY TO BALTIMORE AND WASHINGTON. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 JOURNEY BALTIMORE WASHINGTON. 
 
 THE mail sleigh in which I found myself a passenger, 
 was one of the most wretched vehicles imaginable. The 
 wind a north-wester penetrated the curtains of the 
 machine, at a thousand crevices, and charged with par- 
 ticles of snow so fine as to be almost impalpable, com- 
 municated to the faces of the passengers the sensation of 
 suffering under a hurricane of needles. Our route lay 
 through a country flat and uninteresting, which presented 
 no object to arrest the attention of a traveller. We 
 breakfasted at a wretched cabaret, and the pretensions 
 of the dinner house were not much greater. The fare, 
 however, though coarse, was abundant; and proceed- 
 ing on our journey about six o'clock, we reached Lan^ 
 caster, a town of some note, and famous for its manu- 
 facture of rifles. After an hour's halt, we again start- 
 ed in a sort of covered sledge-wagon, and the number of 
 passengers being reduced to myself, my servant, and a 
 Hungarian pedlar, we without ceremony ensconced our- 
 selves among the straw in the bottom of the cart. 
 
 This part of the journey was comparatively comforta^ 
 ble. I had passed the night before leaving Philadel- 
 phia in writing, and "tired nature's kind restorer" now 
 visited my eyelids very pleasantly. The rumbling of 
 the wagon on the vast wooden bridge which crosses the 
 Susquehanna at length broke my slumber. I rose to 
 gaze on the scenery, which showed finely in the moon- 
 light. There were rocks, and giant trees, and a frozen 
 river, and the thought of Wyoming lent a charm to 
 them all. In a few minutes, however, the Susquehanna 
 was no longer visible, and resuming my former position, 
 I again became as happy as an oblivion of all earthly 
 cares could make me. 
 
 How long I enjoyed this happiness I know not, but it 
 was at length effectually dissipated by a most unpleasant 
 
 27
 
 210 MODE OF LIVING. 
 
 disturbance. The wagon had stopped, and the rascal ol 
 a pedlar, in scrambling out of the machine, chose to 
 plant his great hob-nailed foot on the pit of my stomach. 
 My first confused impression was that I had been crushed 
 to death by the wheel of the Newcastle wagon, or the 
 great elephant in Exeter 'Change. But, by degrees, the 
 truth dawned on my bewildered intellect, and though 
 not, I trust, much given to swearing, I confess I did in- 
 dulge in a profane objurgation at finding myself thus 
 unceremoniously converted into the footstool of a Mag- 
 yar pedlar. 
 
 Even to my own perceptions at the moment, however, 
 there was something laughable in the whole affair. To 
 be stretched alongside of my servant in straw on the 
 bottom of a cart, and in such a pickle to be trampled on 
 by a common hawker of thimbles and pocket handker- 
 chiefs! But travelling in America is like misery, for it 
 occasionally brings a man acquainted with strange bed- 
 fellows. 
 
 I had already found, that in travelling, it was impossi- 
 ble to adhere to those conventional regulations in regard 
 to servants which in England are held to be inviolable. 
 It is the invariable custom in this country for all the pas- 
 sengers of a stage-coach to eat at the same table, and the 
 time allowed for meals is so short, that unless John dines 
 with his master, the chances are that he goes without 
 dinner altogether. I had already learned that in the 
 United States no man can put forward pretensions to su- 
 periority of any kind, without exciting unpleasant ob- 
 servation. A traveller, to get on comfortably, must 
 take things as he finds them, assume nothing, and get rid 
 as soon as possible of all superfluous refinement. He 
 must often associate with men, whose companionship he 
 cannot but feel carries with it something of degradation. 
 Yet a person of true breeding will rarely be treated with 
 disrespect. He will receive tribute without exacting it, 
 and even in this democratic country, may safely leave it 
 " to men's opinion, to tell the world he is a gentleman." 
 
 The day's journey terminated at York, where, after 
 all its annoyances and fatigues, I found efficacious resto- 
 ratives in an excellent supper and comfortable bed. In
 
 AMERICAN SLEIGH. 21 1 
 
 America, a traveller's sufferings are rarely connected 
 with the table. Go where he may, he always finds 
 abundance of good and wholesome food. To be sure, 
 if the devil send cooks to any part of the world, it is to 
 the United States, for in that country it is a rare thing 
 to meet any dish dressed just as it ought to be. No at- 
 tention is paid to th,e preserving of meat, which is ge- 
 nerally transferred direct from the shambles to the spit. 
 Then the national propensity for grease is inordinate. 
 It enters largely into the composition of every dish, 
 and constitutes the sole ingredient of many. The very 
 bread is, generally, not only impregnated with some 
 unctuous substance, but when sent up to the breakfast 
 table, is seen to float in a menstruum of oleaginous mat- 
 ter. But, with all this, a traveller not a "very parti- 
 cular gentleman" will have very little cause of com- 
 plaint. At dinner, he will always find ham, turkey, 
 and a joint of some kind; and if, with such materials, he 
 cannot contrive to make a tolerable meal, it is pretty 
 evident that he has mistaken his vocation, and should li- 
 mit his journeys to an annual migration between Pail- 
 Mall and the Palais Royal. 
 
 In the morning we left York. Inured, as I had been, 
 on the present journey, to what appeared the most 
 wretched vehicles on earth, I soon discovered in the one 
 in which 1 now embarked, an illustration of the adage, 
 that in every depth there is a deeper still. Our sleigh 
 was a machine apparently got up for the nonce, and con- 
 sisted merely of rough boards nailed together in the form 
 of an oblong box, with a drapery and roof of common 
 calico. There were narrow cross boards for seats, on 
 which the passengers six in number were compelled 
 to sit bolt upright without support of any kind. This 
 was not comfortable, but the snow was smooth and firm, 
 and we rattled on very fast and very smoothly, and soon 
 after night-fall, I found myself in Baltimore. 
 
 Before leaving Philadelphia, I had written to a fellow- 
 passenger to secure apartments for me in the Indian 
 Queen, and, on my arrival, found every thing prepared. 
 On the whole, I was, perhaps, more comfortable in this 
 hotel than in any other during the whole course of my
 
 212 SLAVERY IN MARYLAND. 
 
 tour. The culinary arrangements of the establishment 
 were excellent, and the assiduity of an old negro waiter 
 in even anticipating my wants, left me only the appre- 
 hension, that, by excess of present comfort, I might be- 
 some less patient under future privations. 
 
 I was now in a slave state, and the knowledge of be- 
 ing so, brought with it something qf excitation. I had 
 never even seen a slave, and my fancy had framed a sort 
 of abstract impersonation of the whole class, a being 
 of strong passions and melancholy aspect, crushed by la- 
 bour, degraded by ignorance, brutalized by the lash; in 
 short, a monster, like that of Frankenstein, human in 
 form, but subject only to the influences which affect the 
 animal part of our nature. I found the domestics in the 
 hotel were all slaves, and there was a certain novelty of 
 sensation, half pleasant and half painful, connected with 
 their services. For the first time in my life, did I bless 
 God for the whiteness of my skin. 
 
 It was not in the class of domestic servants, however, 
 that I could reasonably expect to discover the marked 
 peculiarities which my imagination had pictured as the 
 badge of all the tribe. My idea of a slave had always 
 been associated with field labour, a burning sun, and the 
 splendid peculiarities of tropical scenery. In the hotel, 
 I saw only decent-looking waiters and house-maids, ob- 
 servant of all external proprieties of demeanour, dis- 
 charging their several duties with exactitude, and distin- 
 guishable from European servants by nothing but co- 
 lour. 
 
 Of the secrets of the prison-house, of the modes 
 adopted to enforce obedience in those unhappy creatures, 
 I know nothing from personal observation, and certainly 
 those with whom I conversed, made no complaints of 
 their condition. My servant, however, was admitted 
 rather more behind the scenes, and made some rather 
 shocking reports of inflictions by broom-sticks and cow- 
 hides, which it had been his fortune to witness. In re- 
 gard to one atrocity, I remember he was particularly elo- 
 quent. The master or mistress of the establishment, for 
 reasons no doubt deemed satisfactory, judged it expe- 
 dient to lay open the skull of poor Boots with the spit
 
 SLAVERY IN MARYLAND. 213 
 
 or poker, and in corroboration of the charge, I can cer- 
 tainly testify having observed that functionary with his 
 dexter organ of secretiveness covered by a plaster. But 
 in gentlemen's families, of course, such disgraceful scenes 
 do not occur, being utterly irreconcilable with that bene- 
 volent intelligence, by which the citizens of Baltimore 
 are eminently distinguished. 
 
 It is, indeed, highly probable that Maryland will not 
 long continue to be disgraced by the existence of slavery 
 within its boundaries. The agricultural staples of the 
 State are corn and tobacco, the climate is healthy and 
 temperate, nor is there any possible reason why the sys- 
 tem of slave labour might not be instantly abolished. 
 The continuance of the curse and a curse deeper and 
 more deadly never was inflicted on any community is 
 entirely gratuitous, the consequence of long hdbit and 
 deep-rooted prejudice, rather than any beneficial result 
 which it can even be imagined to produce. In the more 
 southern states it is different. The climate is less salu- 
 brious, and the cultivation of rice or sugar certainly 
 could not be carried on without slave labour. The im- 
 mediate interests of the proprietors, therefore, are depi- 
 dedly opposed to emancipation. Whenever it shall take 
 place, it is certain that vast tracts of country, at present 
 highly productive, will be thrown out of cultivation. 
 But in Maryland, and even in Virginia, such difficulties 
 do not occur. There, slave labour would instantly be 
 replaced by that of freemen, to the infinite benefit of 
 the landed proprietors, and the general advancement of 
 morals in the whole community. In the adjoining state 
 of Pennsylvania, the experiment has been already tried, 
 with the most complete success. The introduction of 
 free labour seemed to operate like a charm. A load was 
 instantly removed which had impeded the natural ener- 
 gies of the population, and Pennsylvania has since con- 
 tinued to advance in intelligence and prosperity, with a 
 vigour and rapidity, to which no parallel can be found 
 among her slave-holding competitors. 
 
 Baltimore stands on the Patapsco, a small river which 
 discharges its waters into the Chesapeake. Its general 
 aspect very much resembles that of Boston, though the
 
 214 BATTLE MONUMENT. 
 
 streets display somewhat more of regularity in their ar- 
 chitecture. The trade of Baltimore is very considera- 
 ble, yet there is less appearance of bustle and business 
 than either in New York or Boston. It is, I believe, the 
 greatest mart of flour in the world, and the amount of 
 its exports of this article considerably exceeds those of any 
 other city of the Union. The prevalent religion js the 
 Roman Catholic, and the Archiepiscopal Cathedral is, 
 perhaps, the chief lion of the place. It is built in form 
 of a cross, with a dome in the centre, by no means happi- 
 ly proportioned to the dimensions of the building. It 
 contains a few inferior pictures, some of which were pre- 
 sented by the late King of France. The effect of the 
 building is poor, though the interior might be greatly 
 improved by the distribution of statues and altars along 
 the walls, to get rid of the barrenness, which, at present, 
 is scarcely diminished by a few pilasters. 
 
 Baltimore has the honour, I believe, of being the first 
 city which has raised an architectural memorial of its 
 gratitude to Washington. It consists of a column of white 
 marble, rising from a quadrangular base. The shaft of the 
 column is about one hundred and twenty feet high, and 
 is surmounted by a colossal statue, which, from its throne, 
 seems proudly to overlook the city. The design of this 
 monument, which is yet unfinished, is simple and grand, 
 and does honour to the taste of the city. Its gross height, 
 including the statue and pedestal, is about a hundred and 
 sixty feet. 
 
 In one of the squares of the city, there is what is called 
 the Battle Monument, a sort of trophy column, erected 
 to commemorate the repulse of the attack on the city, 
 during the late war, and the names of those who fell in 
 its defence. This structure, which is about fifty feet in 
 height, consists of a column representing the Roman fasces, 
 symbolical of the Union, rising from a square pedestal, 
 which tapers in the Egyptian style, with a griffin at each 
 corner. Above, is the statue of Victory, with an eagle at 
 her side. The effect of the whole is sadly injured by a 
 most anomalous complexity of petty details. Indeed, so 
 vicious is this monument, in point of taste, that it is diffi- 
 cult to believe it the production of the same period which
 
 BEAUTY OF THE WOMEN. 215 
 
 has adorned the city with the noble structure to Wash- 
 ington. 
 
 I remember being asked by a lady, in one of the first 
 visits I paid in Baltimore, whether I had seen this monu- 
 ment. Having answered in the negative, she proceeded 
 to inform me that it was very beautiful, but, as if struck 
 by a sudden recollection, somewhat eagerly apologized 
 for the introduction of the subject, on account of the pain- 
 ful feelings which this memorial of failure in his country's 
 arms, could not fail to excite in an English spectator. In 
 reply, I took the liberty to assure her that her regrets on 
 this matter were entirely gratuitous; that I should have 
 great pleasure in examining the monument, and really en- 
 tertained no apprehension of suffering from any pungency 
 of feeling on the occasion. It was easy to observe, however, 
 that my disclaimers, like the inaugural nolo episcopari of 
 the Bishops, went for nothing with my fair auditor. Her 
 apologies for having wounded my feelings, became even 
 more strenuous than before; and as it was evidently agree- 
 able that 1 should appear in the light of a mortified man, 
 I at length judged it better to desist from farther discla- 
 mation. If I know any thing of John Bull, he is not quite 
 so sensitive a person, as it pleases the good people on this 
 side of the water to believe him; and the idea of an En- 
 glishman at the present day, being distressed by regret at 
 the failure of the attack on Baltimore, is, perhaps, some- 
 what closely connected with the ludicrous. 
 
 Baltimore is celebrated for hospitality, and the beauty 
 of its women, and I can bear testimony to the justice of 
 its reputation for both. In no other city of the United 
 States is the former so frequent and habitual, and in none 
 are there so few of the sordid characteristics of traffic ap- 
 parent to a stranger. There struck me as being at 
 Baltimore, more effort than elsewhere, to combine the 
 pleasures of social life with professional labour. The ef- 
 fect of this is generally felt in society. The tone of con- 
 versation is lighter and more agreeable, and topics of 
 mere commercial interest are rarely obtruded at the din- 
 ner table. 
 
 In Baltimore there is not much pretension of any sort, 
 and the average of literary accomplishment is perhaps low-
 
 216 TRADE OF BALTIMORE. 
 
 er than in Philadelphia or Boston. In such matters, howe- 
 ver, a transient visiter can form, at best, but an uncer- 
 tain and very fallible judgment; but I can with truth as- 
 sert, that my recollections of Baltimore are of the most 
 agreeable kind, and that I quitted it with a strong senti- 
 ment of regard for several of its inhabitants, which time 
 has yet done nothing to diminish. 
 
 The ladies of Baltimore, I have already intimated, are 
 remarkable for personal attraction; indeed, I am not 
 aware that, in proportion to the numbers assembled, I 
 have ever seen so much beauty as in the parties of Balti- 
 more. The figure is, perhaps, deficient in height, but 
 sylph-like and graceful^ the features are generally regular 
 and delicately modelled, and the fair Baltimoreansare less 
 remarkable than the American ladies usually are, for the 
 absence of a certain fulness and grace of proportion, to 
 which, from its rarity, one is led perhaps to attach some- 
 what too much value as an ingredient of beauty. 
 
 The figure of an American lady, when past the first 
 bloom of youth, presents an aggregate of straight lines 
 and corners altogether ungraceful and inharmonious* 
 There is 'an overweening proportion of bone, which occa- 
 sionally protrudes in quarters where it certainly adds no- 
 thing to the general charms of the person. The result 
 is perhaps, a certain tendency to scragginess, which, I have 
 no doubt, to the eye of a young poet would be exceedingly 
 annoying. A middle-aged gentleman, however, looks on 
 such objects through a medium more philosophical ; and I 
 imagine, that, were it possible to combine the scattered 
 and impalpable elements of female attraction, and to form 
 a fair estimate of their amount, the ladies of the United 
 States would have no deficiency to lament in comparison 
 with other nations. 
 
 The trade of Baltimore, I have been assured, has, 
 within the last twenty years, been greatly on the decline. 
 During the long war which agitated Europe, America en- 
 joyed nearly the whole carrying trade of the world. 
 While her flag had only to brave the breeze, and not the 
 battle, it was to be seen waving in every sea, and in eve- 
 ry harbour of the world. Wealth flowed in on her from 
 all quarters, and like the lawyer in the fable, while each
 
 STATE LEGISLATURE. 317 
 
 of the belligerents received a shell in the shape of victo- 
 ries and Extraordinary Gazettes, this prudent and saga- 
 cious people contrived to keep possession of the oyster. 
 But the United States at length resigned the innumerable 
 benefits of neutrality. Mr. Madison's proclamation of 
 war was the signal for the decay of Baltimore, and the 
 termination of hostilities in Europe having left other na- 
 tions at liberty to exert their natural advantages in the 
 pursuits of commerce, the harbour is now comparatively 
 deserted, and the quays are no longer thronged with a 
 busy and bustling crowd, as in the good old times, when 
 people in Europe cut each other's throats because they 
 happened to live on different sides of the Pyrenees, or 
 were divided by the Rhine. 
 
 The worthy citizens of Baltimore, no doubt, deplore, 
 with great sincerity, the decrease of pugnacity among 
 their European brethren. Indeed, I have heard, since 
 my arrival in America, the toast of " A bloody war in Eu- 
 rope," drank with enthusiasm. The general progress of 
 intelligence is unquestionably adverse to the gratification 
 of the humane aspirations of these republican philanthro- 
 pists; but a still greater obstacle consists in a prevailing 
 deficiency of what is emphatically called the sinews of 
 war. Jf the people of the United States, for the sake of 
 getting up a good desolating war, which may tend, eventu- 
 ally, to their advantage, will only pay the piper to set the 
 thing fairly a-going, they may, no doubt, as matters at pre- 
 sent stand inEurope,be indulged with hostilities to any pro- 
 fitable amount. A note, a word, from Metternich or Tal- 
 leyrand, will do the business; and the continent, from Mos- 
 cow to Madrid, will witness a repetition of the same scenes 
 with which it must already be tolerably familiar. Indeed, 
 without any such exercise of liberality on Jonathan's part, 
 it is only too probable that his wish may, ere long, be grati- 
 fied ; and, certainly, if wealth is to flow from such a source, 
 it could not have a better destination than the pockets of 
 the good citizens of Baltimore, who would not fail to em- 
 ploy it liberally in acts of benevolence and hospitality. 
 
 Being anxious to witness some of the proceedings of 
 the State Legislatures, it was my intention to proceed to 
 Annapolis, the seat of government, where both houses 
 were in session. To this project, however, I found my 
 
 28
 
 J18 MR. CARROL. 
 
 Baltimore friends exceedingly adverse. They assured me 
 that I would meet with nothing at Annapolis to repay the 
 trouble of the journey; that the inns were had, the roads 
 still worse, and their representatives very far from incar- 
 nations either of good breeding or absolute wisdom. I 
 own that all this had rather the effect of stimulating my 
 curiosity than repressing it; and, in spite of all obstacles, 
 I should probably have visited Annapolis, had I not re- 
 ceived a letter from a friend in Washington, informing 
 me, that, unless I repaired immediately to the seat of the 
 General Government, the opportunity of observing the 
 proceedings of Congress, in the discharge of its more in- 
 teresting duties, would be lost. I, therefore, determined 
 on setting out for Washington without farther delay, and 
 bade a temporary farewell to my friends in Baltimore, 
 whom I rejoiced in the prospect of revisiting, before pro- 
 ceeding in my route to the southward. 
 
 While at Baltimore, I enjoyed the honour of intro- 
 duction to Mr. Carroll, the last survivor of that band of 
 brave men, who signed the declaration of their country's 
 independence. Mr. Carroll is in his ninety-fifth year, yet 
 enjoys the full use of all his faculties, and takes pleasure 
 in social intercourse, which he enlivens by a fund of valua- 
 ble anecdote. It was with great interest that I heard 
 this aged patriot speak of the companions of his youth, 
 Jay, Adams, Jefferson, and Hamilton, and describe those 
 scenes of stormy struggle, in which he had himself par- 
 taken with honourable distinction. Baltimore, which now 
 contains nearly eighty thousand inhabitants, he remem- 
 bers a petty fishing hamlet, of some half dozen houses. 
 But the progress of change throughout the whole Union 
 has been equally rapid. Little more than half a centu- 
 ry ago, the Americans were a handful of poor colonists, 
 drivers of slaves and small traffic, in lumber and tobacco, 
 from whom it was the policy of the mother country to 
 squeeze all she could, and give nothing in return, which 
 it might be at all profitable to keep. With a judicious 
 economy of gibbets and jail room at home, she was so 
 obliging as to accelerate the natural increase of popula- 
 tion by the transmission of certain gentlemen and ladies, 
 who, being found somewhat awkwardly deficient in the 
 ethics of property in their own country, were despatched
 
 CHANGES IN AMERICA. 219 
 
 to improve their manners on the plantations of Maryland 
 and Virginia. Then, in her motherly care, she fenced 
 in their trade with all manner of restrictions, which could 
 in any way contribute to the replenishing of her own pa- 
 rental exchequer, and, to crown her benefits, condescended 
 to export a copious supply of Lord Johns and Lord 
 Charleses, to fill their empty pockets, and keep the peo- 
 ple in good humour, with fine speeches, strong prisons, and 
 a round military force. 
 
 All this Mr. Carroll remembers, but he has lived to see 
 a state of matters somewhat different. The colonies have 
 disappeared, and in their place has risen a powerful con- 
 federation of free states, spreading a population of twelve 
 millions over a vast extent of fertile territory, and pos- 
 sessing a commerce and marine, second only to those of 
 that nation from whom they boast their descent. He be- 
 holds his countrymen as happy as the unfettered enjoyment 
 of their great natural advantages, and institutions of the 
 broadest democracy, can make them. He sees whole re- 
 gions, formerly the savage haunts of the panther and the 
 wild Indian, covered with the dwellings of civilized and 
 Christian man. The mighty rivers, on which a few 
 \vretchedjlats used to make with difficulty an annual voy- 
 age, he now sees covered with steam-vessels of gigantic 
 size, and loaded with valuable merchandise. He has seen 
 lakes in the very heart of a great continent, formerly ap- 
 proachable only by some adventurous traveller, connected 
 with the ocean by means of canals. In short, the lot of 
 Mr. Carroll has been cast in what must ever be the most 
 eventful period of his country's history; and having wit- 
 nessed changes so vast and extraordinary, and beheld the 
 whole of his early companions, one by one, drop into the 
 grave, this venerable patriot may well be content to fol- 
 low them, happy till the last in the enjoyment of the at- 
 tachment of his family, and the esteem and reverence of 
 his fellow citizens.* 
 
 For the last fortnight the weather had been very bad. 
 Heavy falls of snow had been alternated with thaws, and 
 
 * Mr. Carroll, since my return to England, has paid the debt of na- 
 ture. When the intelligence of his death reached Washington, both 
 houses immediately adjourned, in testimony of respect for this "ultimus 
 ttomcuwrum."
 
 220 JOURNEY TO WASHINGTON. 
 
 considerable difficulty was anticipated in accomplishing 
 the journey to Washington. The perils of travelling, 
 however, are generally greater in expectation than ex- 
 perience, and we got ever the distance, forty miles, with 
 greater facility, and fewer moving accidents, than I should 
 have been glad to have compounded for, before leaving 
 Baltimore. I was looking from the window of the coach, 
 in a sort of brown study, at fields covered with snow, when 
 one of my fellow-passengers inquired how I liked Wash- 
 ington. " I will tell you when I see it," was my reply. 
 * ( Why, you have been in Washington for the last quarter 
 of an hour," rejoined my fellow-traveller. And so it was; 
 yet nothing could I discern but a miserable cottage or 
 two, occasionally skirting the road, at wide intervals. Pre- 
 sently, however, we came on the Capitol, and winding 
 round the eminence on which it stands, rattled gaily down 
 Pennsylvania Avenue, the principal street of the city. 
 Houses now began to appear at somewhat closer dis- 
 tances, and every here and there was what is called in the 
 vernacular of the country " a block of building," or, in 
 other words, a connected range of shops and dwelling- 
 houses. The coach at length stopped at Gadsby's hotel, 
 where though with some difficulty I succeeded in pro- 
 curing apartments. 
 
 When I arrived, it was little more than three o'clock, 
 so, in order to pass the time till dinner, I sallied forth to 
 view the lions. The Capitol stands on elevated ground, 
 and it consists of a centre and wings. It is covered with 
 whitewash, which the Americans say was necessary to 
 hide the smoke of the conflagration in 1814. This is non- 
 sense. The smoke-marks, instead of injuring, would pro- 
 bably have improved the effect of the building, and di- 
 minished that rawness of aspect, which is so strongly op- 
 posed to architectural beauty. The structure is certainly 
 imposing, both from situation and magnitude, though full 
 of faults. The greatest is want of simplicity and definite 
 character. The different parts of the building are good, 
 but I could not help feeling that there was a general de- 
 ficiency of congruity and adaptation. Like a volume of the 
 Elegant Extracts, it contains a great many fine things, 
 without any assignable affinity to account for their collo- 
 cation. In the principal front the western the fagade
 
 PICTURES IN THE CAPITOL. 22 1 
 
 is broken, from the wings being thrown back. This is 
 unfortunate, and the effect is still farther injured, by the 
 basement of the centre being brought too prominently into 
 view. The vestibule opens a large circular hall, which 
 occupies the centre of the building, and is lighted by the 
 dome. This spacious apartment is adorned by four pic- 
 tures by Colonel Trumbull, a gentleman distinguished both 
 as a patriot and an artist. He bore, 1 believe, considera- 
 ble part in the contest of the Revolution, and has since 
 been employed by the General Government to commemo- 
 rate, by his pencil, those triumphs to which he contri- 
 buted with his sword. The subjects he has selected, are 
 the surrender of Burgoyne, the Declaration of Indepen- 
 dence, the surrender of Yorktown, and Washington's re- 
 signation of his command at the termination of the war. 
 Regarding these pictures merely as works of art, it is im- 
 possible to compliment Colonel Trumbull on his success. 
 The truth is, the subjects are unmanageable. In the De- 
 claration of Independence, we have a respectable con- 
 gregation of decent farmer-looking men, staring quite as 
 vacantly, from under their periwigs, as the solemnity of 
 the occasion could possibly demand. A few are seated or 
 standing at the table, which displays a large scroll of 
 parchment. The rest are seated on benches, waiting ap- 
 parently with exemplary patience the completion of the 
 important document. Out of such materials, Titian him- 
 self could not have made a picture. The subject admits 
 of no action, nor of strong emotion of any kind. Then 
 the quantity of canvass which is devoted to coat, waist- 
 coat and breeches, and the rows of clumsy legs, without 
 one bit of drapery to conceal them ! 
 
 The other pictures are better, though they too involved 
 great difficulties of management. The artist has patrioti- 
 cally given to Burgoyne a certain craven look, which has, 
 at least, the fault of being common-place in conception. 
 In the figure of Washington, however, Colonel Trumbull 
 has been very successful. There is a calm and unobtru- 
 sive grandeur about him, which satisfies the imagination. 
 We are content to believe that the soul of the hero ani- 
 mated such a form as that we gaze on in Colonel Trum- 
 bull's canvass, and our interest is heightened by the 
 knowledge, that the artist has given us a faithful portrait
 
 222 WASHINGTON. 
 
 of the great man with whom, in early life, he enjoyed the 
 privilege of personal intercourse. 
 
 Having reached the Rotunda, I inquired the way to 
 the House of Representatives, and following the direc- 
 tions I received, found myself at the bottom of a narrow 
 stair which led directly to the gallery appropriated for 
 strangers. On ascending, I entered a splendid semicir- 
 cular saloon, round the arc of which is a range of ano- 
 malous columns, composed of breccia, found in the 
 neighbourhood, with a highly-decorated entablature of 
 white marble. In the centre of the chord is the chair 
 of the Speaker, from which radiate seven passages to 
 the circumference, and the desks and seats of the mem- 
 bers are ranged in concentric rows. Behind the chair 
 is a sort of corridor or gallery, with a fireplace at either 
 end, and furnished with seats and sofas, which serves as 
 a lounging-place for the members and strangers to whom 
 the Speaker may think proper to grant the privilege of 
 entre. 
 
 On my entrance I found the House in animated de- 
 bate, and listened with much interest to the first speci- 
 mens of American eloquence I had enjoyed the oppor- 
 tunity of hearing. At five o'clock the House adjourned, 
 and I returned to the hotel. 
 
 In the evening I accompanied a member of Congress, 
 whose family I had known in Baltimore, to a ball given 
 by a lady of his acquaintance, to whom he obligingly 
 assured me that my intrusion would be welcome. On ar- 
 riving, I found a very large party crowded into a nar- 
 row compass, the houses at Washington being generally 
 on a smaller scale than in the other cities I had visited. 
 During the evening, I had to pass through a formidable 
 array of introductions to distinguished individuals, and 
 after four hours of almost unbroken conversation, much 
 of which could not be carried on without considerable 
 expenditure of thought, I confess I did feel somewhat 
 tired, and about three in the morning rejoiced to find 
 myself stretched in a comfortable bed at Gadsby's. 
 
 The capital of the Federal Union is situated on a point 
 of land formed by the bifurcation of the Potomac, about 
 a hundred and twenty miles from the sea. Attached to 
 it is a territory ten miles square, called the district of
 
 APPEARANCE OF WASHINGTON. 223 
 
 Columbia, which, in order to secure the complete inde- 
 pendence of the general government is placed under the 
 immediate control of Congress. It would have been in- 
 consistent with the American character, had the original 
 plan of the future metropolis not been framed on a scale 
 of gigantic magnitude. A parallelogram, nearly five 
 miles in length, and more than two in breadth, was at 
 once parcelled out with pleasing regularity into streets, 
 squares, and avenues, and preparations were fondly made 
 for the rapid growth of a city, compared with which 
 London would dwindle into a village. In short, nothing 
 could be more splendid than Washington on paper ', and 
 nothing more entirely the reverse of splendid than the 
 real city, when, at wide intervals, a few paltry houses 
 were seen to arise amid the surrounding forest. 
 
 The founders of Washington imagined it would be- 
 come the seat of a large foreign commerce. This ex- 
 pectation has been disappointed. Washington has no 
 trade of any kind, and there is, at present, no prospect 
 of its ever possessing any. Its only hopes are now 
 founded on its advantages as the seat of government, 
 which must secure to it the benefit arising from the ex- 
 penditure of a large diplomatic body, and with those 
 immediately connected with the executive government. 
 
 Many years have passed since the foundation of Wash- 
 ington, and it has at length begun to assume something 
 of the appearance of a city. It is not easy, however, to 
 detect in its present aspect any thing of that system and 
 regularity so delightful in the scheme of its founders. 
 Instead of commencing this gigantic undertaking at a 
 central point, it was considered most judicious to begin 
 at the extremities, and build inward from the circumfe- 
 rence. The consequence has been, that there is, per- 
 haps, no city in the world of the same population, in 
 which the distances to be traversed in the ordinary in- 
 tercourse of society are so large. The most glaring want 
 in Washington is that of compactness and consistency* 
 The houses are scattered in straggling groups, three in 
 one quarter, and half a dozen in another; and ever and 
 anon our compassion is excited by some disconsolate 
 dwelling, the first and last born of a square or crescent
 
 224 THE REPRESENTATIVES, 
 
 yet in nubibus, suffering like an ancient maiden in the 
 mournful solitude of single blessedness. 
 
 There is nothing sordid in Washington, but nothing, 
 at the same time, which claims a higher praise than is 
 implied in the epithet respectable. The chief street of 
 the city is called Pennsylvania Avenue, and extends 
 from the Capitol to the President's house, a distance, 
 which I guessed in walking it to be about a mile and a 
 half. Near to the latter of these buildings are the pub- 
 lic offices, unadorned edifices of brick, with nothing 
 about them which it would be very easy to censure or 
 admire. In this quarter, also, are the houses of the fo- 
 reign ministers, and generally of the members of the 
 Cabinet, so that its claims to being the Court end i& here 
 undeniable. 
 
 On the morning after my arrival, having despatched 
 my letters, I returned to the Capitol, where I passed 
 the morning very agreeably in the Senate and the House 
 of Representatives. The Speaker of the latter, and the 
 Vice-President of the United States, who presides in the 
 former, to both of whom I had the honour to be the 
 bearer of introductions, were obliging enough to grant 
 me the privilege of entre to the body of the house; so 
 that during my stay in Washington I enjoyed the advan- 
 tage of being able to listen to the debates without any of 
 the jostling and inconvenience often unavoidable in the 
 gallery. 
 
 I have already described the hall of the Representa- 
 tives: I would now say something of the members. 
 Their aspect, as a body, was certainly somewhat different 
 from any idea I had formed of a legislative assembly. 
 Many were well dressed, and of appearance sufficiently 
 senatorial to satisfy the utmost demands even of a severer 
 critic in such matters than I pretend to be. But a large 
 proportion undoubtedly struck me as vulgar and un- 
 couth, in a degree which nothing in my previous experi- 
 ence had prepared me to expect. It is impossible to look 
 on these men without at once receiving the conviction, 
 that they are not gentlemen by habit or education, and 
 assuredly in no society in Europe could they be received 
 as such.
 
 HALL OF THE SENATE. 225 
 
 Each member is furnished with a desk, and a consi- 
 derable number are usually engaged during the progress of 
 public business in writing letters, or reading newspapers. 
 Generally speaking, great decorum prevails in debate. 
 Neither cheering, nor interruption of any kind, is per- 
 mitted, and it is rare that any strenuous exercise of the 
 Speaker's authority is demanded for the preservation of 
 order. There have been occasions, however, on which 
 the violent passions excited by antagonism of opinion, 
 combined with personal dislike, have led to scenes, per- 
 haps, unprecedented in any other deliberative assembly 
 in the world. But the course of debate, though often 
 troubled and vehement, is rarely violent, and the moral 
 sense of propriety entertained by the majority of the 
 House, is practically found to operate as a sufficient re- 
 straint on the irritable passions of individuals. 
 
 The hall of the Senate is a good deal smaller than that 
 of the Representatives, and is very elegantly fitted up. 
 It is, likewise, in the form of a semicircle, with desks 
 at convenient distances for the members who sit unco- 
 vered. The President's chair is in the centre, and the 
 office of this functionary so far, at least, as it is con- 
 nected with the maintenance of order I should imagine 
 to be something of a sinecure. In the course of the 
 many debates of the Senate at which I was present 
 during my stay in Washington, I do not remember any 
 instance in which it was found necessary for the Presi- 
 dent to interpose his authority. The appearance of the 
 assembly is grave and dignified. The senators are ge- 
 nerally men of eminence in their several States, who 
 may be supposed to bring to the task of legislation the 
 results of more mature judgment and varied experience. 
 The tone of debate is, therefore, pitched higher than in 
 the more popular House. Questions are discussed in a 
 temper more philosophical and statesman-like. The 
 range of argument is widened, that of invective nar- 
 rowed; and the members of the senate are less given to 
 indulge in those flights of vapid and puerile declamation, 
 which prove nothing but deficiency of taste and judg- 
 ment in the orator. 
 
 Washington is undoubtedly the gayest place in the 
 29
 
 226 AMUSEMENTS OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Union; and must, I should imagine, be the very paradise 
 of hackney-coachmen.* If these gentlemen do not get 
 rich, it must be owing to some culpable extravagance, 
 for their vehicles are in continual demand from the hour 
 of dinner till five in the morning, and long distances and 
 heavy charges are all in their favour. Washington, too, 
 is the only place in the Union where people consider it 
 necessary to be agreeable, where pleasing, as in the 
 Old World, becomes a sort of business, and the enjoy- 
 ments of social intercourse enter into the habitual calcu- 
 lations of every one. 
 
 The reason of this is obvious enough. The duties of 
 legislation bring together a large body of gentlemen 
 from all quarters of the Union, whose time in the morn- 
 ing is generally passed in the Capitol; but who, without 
 the delassements of dinner parties and balls, would find 
 their evening hours a burden somewhat difficult to dis- 
 pose of. Idle men are always pleasant; they feel the ne- 
 cessity of being so, and make it their occupation, when 
 they have no other. Your lawyer, or your merchant, 
 on the other hand, is so engrossed by weighter matters, 
 that he has no time to cultivate the graces of life, or 
 those thousand arts of courtesy which contribute so ma- 
 terially to enhance the enjoyments of society. The ex- 
 perience of the world is in favour of the assertion, that 
 it is impossible to excel both in pleasure and business. 
 A man of talent may select the sphere of his ambi- 
 tion, the bar, the pulpit, the exchange, the senate, or the 
 drawing-room; but to attempt the honours of a double 
 triumph, is, in general, to secure but duplicity of failure. 
 
 In Washington, all are idle enough to be as agreeable 
 as they can. The business of Congress is no great bur- 
 den on the shoulders of any of its members; and a trip 
 to Washington is generally regarded as a sort of annual 
 lark, which enables a man to pass the winter months 
 
 * During the first week of my stay in Washington, I paid thirty dol- 
 lars in coach-hire. I then contracted with a man for twenty, to have a 
 carriage at my disposal from five in the evening till daylight. On the 
 first night of the agreement, however, I happened to go to four par- 
 ties, and Jehu drew back from his bargain, and insisted on five dol- 
 lars more. I argued strenuously against this Punica fides, but, finding 
 I could not do better, was forced to give in to his demand. The charge 
 for being conveyed to and from a dinner-party alone was three dollars.
 
 BALL AT THE FRENCH MINISTER'S. 227 
 
 more pleasantly than in the country. A considerable 
 number of the members bring their families, with the 
 view of obtaining introduction to better society than 
 they can hope to meet elsewhere; but the majority leave 
 such incumbrances at home; some, it may be presumed, 
 from taste, and others from economy. 
 
 There are few families that make Washington their 
 permanent residence, and the city, therefore, has rather 
 the aspect of a watering-place, than the metropolis of a 
 great nation. The members of Congress generally live 
 together in small boarding-houses, which, from all I saw 
 of them, are shabby and uncomfortable. Gentlemen with 
 families take lodgings, or occupy apartments in a hotel ; 
 and it is really marvellous, at the Washington parties, to 
 see how many people are contrived to be stowed away in 
 a drawing-room, somewhat smaller than an ordinary sized 
 pigeon house. On such occasions, one does not suffer so 
 much from heat as from suffocation; for not only does the 
 whole atmosphere become tainted in quality, but there 
 seems an absolute deficiency in quantity for the pulmona- 
 ry demands of the company. 
 
 Within a few days of my arrival, I enjoyed an oppor- 
 tunity of seeing, at one comprehensive view, the whole 
 society of Washington. The French minister, who had 
 recently arrived from Europe, had determined to open his 
 diplomatic career by a splendid ball, an event of no ordi- 
 nary magnitude in a society like that of Washington. On 
 my arrival, I found the house, though a large one, filled 
 even to overflow, by one of the motliest crowds in which 
 it had ever been my fortune to mingle. The members 
 of the foreign legations were, of course, present; and the 
 contrast between their appearance, and that of a consi- 
 derable portion of the company, was more striking than 
 will readily be considered credible in England. I pre^- 
 sume the invitation to members of Congress had been in- 
 discriminate, for the party was adorned by many mem- 
 bers of that body who would not, probably, have been 
 present on any principle of selection. Many of the gen- 
 tlemen had evidently not thought it necessary to make 
 any change in their morning habiliments, and their boots 
 certainly displayed no indication of any recent intimacy 
 with Day and Martin. Others were in worsted stock-
 
 228 PRESENTATION TO THE PRESIDENT. 
 
 ings, and their garments, made evidently by some tailor 
 of the backwoods, were of a fashion which, when dis- 
 played amid a scene so brilliant, was somewhat provoca- 
 tive of a smile. I was informed that the gentlemen 
 whose appearance I have attempted to describe, were 
 chiefly members of the Western States, and they might 
 he seen parading the apartments with ladies of aspect 
 quite as unique, and sometimes even more grotesque than 
 Iheir own. 
 
 The majority of the company, however, were unob- 
 jectionable, and the scene altogether was very interesting 
 to a traveller, whose object was to see every thing which 
 could at all illustrate the general condition of manners 
 and society in the United States. It afforded me the ad- 
 vantage of an introduction to many persons of eminence, 
 with whose reputation I was already familiar; and, after 
 partaking, with partial success, in the scramble for sup- 
 per, I returned home, satisfied that my hours had been 
 very far from unprofitably spent. 
 
 Mr. Vaughan, the British minister, being indisposed, 
 was good enough to request Mr. Van Buren, the Secreta- 
 ry of State, to present me to the President. The hour 
 appointed was two o'clock on the day following; and, 
 having to deal with personages of such importance, I was, 
 .of course, punctual in my attendance. The President's 
 house is rather a handsome building, with a portico in 
 front of four columns, of what order I forget. It is built 
 of stone, but the walls, like those of the Capitol, are coated 
 with whitewash. The entrance hall is spacious, and we 
 were received in a plainly furnished apartment, without 
 ornament of any kind. The President was seated in an 
 easy chair, from which he arose on our entrance, and, on 
 my name being announced, very cordially presented his 
 hand, and requested me to occupy a chair beside him. 
 Mr. Van Buren then took his departure, and I enjoyed 
 half an hour's very pleasant conversation with this dis- 
 tinguished person. 
 
 General Jackson is somewhat above the middle height, 
 spare, and well formed. Though he has probably num- 
 bered more than the years specified by the Psalmist, as 
 forming the ordinary limit of human life, no symptom of 
 decrepitude is visible in his air or motions, His hair,
 
 INDIAN MISSION. 229 
 
 though nearly white, is ahundant, and on the tipper part 
 of the head bristles up somewhat stiffly. The forehead is 
 neither bold nor expansive, though by no means deficient 
 in height. The head, like that of Sir Walter Seott, is 
 particularly narrow in the region of ideality. The coun- 
 tenance of General Jackson is prepossessing; the features 
 are strongly defined, yet not coarse; and, even at his ad- 
 vanced age, the expression of his eye is keen and vivid. 
 The manner of the President is very pleasing. He evi- 
 dently feels the dignity of his high office, and supports it; 
 but there is no exaction of external deference beyond that 
 which, in ordinary society, one gentleman is entitled to 
 claim from another. One sees nothing of courtly ele- 
 gance, but, on the other hand, nothing which the most 
 rigid critic could attribute to coarseness or vulgarity. 
 
 The conversation I had the honour of holding with this 
 distinguished person, related principally to European poli- 
 tics. The world was then occupied with Poland, her 
 wrongs, her sufferings, her chances of success in the une- 
 qual contest with the vast power of Russia. This subject 
 naturally led to the general prospects of Europe, the pro- 
 gress of intelligence, and the probable duration of peace. 
 Of course, these were matters which did not admit of 
 much novelty either of thought or illustration, but the ob- 
 servations of General Jackson were always marked by 
 sagacity, and a certain directness, both of thought and 
 expression, for which European statesmen are rarely re- 
 markable. On the whole, I retired from the interview 
 with sentiments of very sincere respect both for the in- 
 tellectual and moral qualities of the American President. 
 
 In the hotel there was a mission from one of the more 
 distant Indian tribes the Mnemonics, I believe who 
 were entertained during their stay in Washington at the 
 public expense. There were five or six men, not hand- 
 some, certainly, in the European sense of the term, but 
 fine athletic weather-beaten-looking fellows, and quite as 
 savage in appearance as the most ardent hunter of the 
 picturesque could possibly desire. Their faces and fore- 
 heads were daubed with red paint, and my fair readers 
 will probably agree that rouge, however becoming on the 
 cheek, must lose much of its efficacy as a cosmetic, when 
 exhibited on the forehead and the nose. The hair, in-
 
 INDIAN CHILDREN. 
 
 deed, the whole person, was anointed with some unctuous 
 substance; the odour of which was far from agreeable. 
 The distinguishing, and almost invariable characteristics 
 of the Incjian countenance, are generally known. The 
 head round, and somewhat flat on the summit, the hair 
 dark, the eye full, but not protuberant, the bones of the 
 cheek prominent, the nose short, low, and dilated, the 
 mouth large, the lips full and rarely compressed, and the 
 general form of the face a broad oval. 
 
 In person, those composing the deputation were below 
 the middle height, and certainly owed nothing to the de- 
 coration of the toilet. Several of them wore only a blanket, 
 fastened in front by a skewer, and their hair was stuck 
 over with feathers. There were two ladies attached to 
 the mission, neither of whom were good-looking, being in 
 person short arid squab, and deficient in that expression 
 of grave and dignified intelligence which distinguishes the 
 males. 
 
 There were also several children, and I desired the 
 waiter, if possible, to induce some of them to pay me a 
 visit. One evening he brought in two, a boy and a girl. 
 The girl seemed about eleven or twelve years old. Her 
 costume consisted of a. sort of printed bed-gown without 
 sleeves, fastened close up to the throat; trousers, moc- 
 casins or leggins of deer skin, worn generally by the In- 
 dians, and the whole covered by a blanket, the drapery 
 of which she really managed with a good deal of grace. 
 In each ear she wore two large silver ear-rings. Fastened 
 to the crown of her head, was a piece of blue riband, 
 which hung down, not unbecomingly, on one side of the 
 face. 
 
 The boy was apparently younger by two or three 
 years, and a fine, manly little fellow. He also wore a 
 blanket by way of Benjamin ; but, instead of a bed-gown, 
 rejoiced in a long coat, the tails of which reached almost 
 to his heels, and which, being made for some one of form 
 and dimensions very different, was not remarkable for fe- 
 licity of adaptation. Neither could speak English, but 
 the boy evidently was the leading person, the girl only 
 following his example. 
 
 Having a bottle of claret on the table, I filled each of 
 them a glass, but the flavour of the wine did not seem to
 
 INDIANS TRANSMOGRIFIED. 231 
 
 meet their approbation. They ate almonds and raisins, 
 but evidently without relish, and walnuts had no better 
 success. I then gave them cigars, which they appeared 
 to enjoy ; indeed, I never saw any one blow a cloud with 
 greater zest than the young lady. The failure of the 
 claret then induced me to try the effect of stronger pota- 
 tions, and 1 brought a bottle of Eau de Cologne from my 
 dressing table, the contents of which they finished with- 
 out difficulty, or apparent inconvenience from the strength 
 of the spirit. 
 
 They remained with me about half an hour, during 
 the whole of which time they supported the sober gravity 
 of demeanour, which the Indians consider to be insepara- 
 ble from true dignity. Nothing seemed to excite sur- 
 prise, and the only symptom of animation they displayed, 
 was on catching a view of their own countenances in a 
 mirror, when they both laughed. During their whole vi- 
 sit neither uttered a word, but when I gave the girl a 
 dollar, explaining to her by signs that half of it was to be 
 given to her brother, she readily understood me, and 
 nodded her head in promise of compliance. At length 
 the boy rose to take leave, followed by the young lady, 
 and, shaking hands with me, they strode out of the apart- 
 ment with a sort of barbaric grace which well became 
 these children of the wilderness. 
 
 Before quitting the subject of these Indians, whose wild 
 appearance had excited in my imagination a thousand 
 fantastic associations, I must mention one circumstance 
 which I found sadly hostile to poetical interest. One 
 morning, a few days before leaving Washington, I ob- 
 served my diplomatic friends, lounging and walking about 
 as usual in the gallery of the hotel, but, alas ! how mise- 
 rably transmogrified ! Their " Great Father," the Pre- 
 sident, had, it appeared, preparatory to their departure, 
 presented each person attached to the mission with a new 
 coat, in shape something like that worn by a coachman, 
 and of blue cloth, turned up at the collar and cuffs with 
 scarlet. The women wore cloaks of the same colours and 
 materials, and my two little friends, whose barbaric ap- 
 pearance had been so delightful, now exhibited like the 
 foot-boy in green livery, whom liazlitt describes as 
 having contributed so much to the splendours of Barry
 
 232 AMERICAN CONSTITUTION. 
 
 Cornwall's tea parties. In short, instead of Indian chiefs, 
 I saw before me a set of beings who reminded one of the 
 servants' hall, certainly not the most pleasing or genial 
 region for the fancy to wander in. The poor men, how- 
 ever, seemed so proud of their new finery, and to do them 
 justice, strutted in it with so grand an air, that it almost 
 became doubtful whether the effect of this anomalous 
 conjunction was not rather to ennoble the livery, than to 
 degrade brave men who never before had suffered de* 
 gradation. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AMERICAN CONSTITUTION. 
 
 IN the observations I have already hazarded on the 
 character of the federal government, it was my object 
 simply to illustrate the fallacy of the leading and funda- 
 mental principles on which it is established. I would now 
 willingly be permitted to direct the attention of the read- 
 er to those practical defects, arising from want of con- 
 gruity and adaptation in its separate institutions, which 
 have contributed materially to derange the whole action 
 of the machine. 
 
 The colonies had no sooner achieved their indepen- 
 dence, than they became desirous of establishing such a 
 union between the different States, as might maintain 
 tranquillity at home, and ensure unity in their relations 
 to foreign powers. In 1787, a convention, over which 
 "Washington presided, was held in the city of Philadelphia. 
 This convention consisted of delegates from all the States, 
 with the exception of Rhode Island. After long delibe- 
 ration, the plan of government, which forms the present 
 federal constitution was recommended and submitted for 
 the separate consideration of the different States. In each 
 of these a convention was assembled, and in 1789, the 
 constitution, all the necessary formalities having been 
 gone through, was duly organized and put in operation.
 
 THE SENATE. 333 
 
 The legislative power conferred by this constitution is 
 vested in Congress, which consists of two bodies the 
 House of Representatives and the Senate. The former 
 of these is chosen biennially, in a proportion not exceed- 
 ing one member for every thirty thousand inhabitants. 
 The minimum only being specified, Congress possesses 
 the power of extending the number of electors who are 
 to enjoy the privilege of returning a member. No per- 
 son is eligible to this assembly who is not twenty-five 
 years old, who is not resident in the State in which he 
 is chosen, or who has not enjoyed the privileges of citi- 
 zenship for seven years. No qualification in property 
 is required, and the right of suffrage is universal, or 
 nearly so. 
 
 This system of representation, though simple enough, 
 is connected with some anomalies. The slave-holding 
 States enjoy the privilege of sending more representa- 
 tives than the others. The total number of white per- 
 sons, and three-fifths of the slave population, constitute 
 the amount to which the right of representation has been 
 accorded. Thus, suppose the States of Ohio and Vir- 
 ginia each to contain one million of white inhabitants, 
 and the latter to possess half a million of slaves, while 
 the former has none; Virginia will send representatives 
 to Congress, on a population of 1,300,000, and, of 
 course, will exercise the greater influence in the national 
 councils. 
 
 The Senate is composed of two representatives from 
 each State. They are elected by the State legislatures 
 for a term of six years, one-third of the number going 
 out by rotation every second year. The qualifications 
 demanded for a senator are, that he shall be thirty years 
 of age, a citizen of nine years' standing, and an inhabit 
 tant of the state which he represents. 
 
 In addition to its legislative functions, the Senate is 
 recognised as a branch of the executive. In this capa- 
 city, it is invested with the privilege of ratifying or an- 
 nulling the official appointments of the President. A 
 treaty with any foreign power is not valid until a majo- 
 rity of two-thirds of the Senate shall have given it their 
 sanction. 
 
 Some of the particulars stated in this brief outline 
 30
 
 Q34 DEFECTS IN THE CONSTITUTION. 
 
 seem to demand a few observations. In the course of 
 the present work, I have already had occasion to express 
 my convictions as to the results of universal suffrage in 
 a country like the United States. But there are other 
 minor points connected with the election and constitution 
 of the legislative bodies, which appear calculated to dero- 
 gate very materially from their usefulness. The regula- 
 tion, that the members of both Houses should be resident 
 in the particular State in which they are elected, I can- 
 not but consider as particularly objectionable. In the 
 first place, it narrows, very unnecessarily, the limits of 
 choice in the electors. In the second, it tends to pro- 
 mote that sectional feeling, that exclusive devotion to 
 the petty interests of some particular district, which is 
 generally inconsistent with the adoption of an enlarged 
 and statesman-like policy. It places the representative 
 in a state of absolute dependence on his immediate con- 
 stituents, and prevents all appeal to other bodies of elec- 
 tors, by whom his talents and principles may be more 
 justly appreciated. It prevents a state, in which there 
 happens to be a dearth of talent, from availing itself of 
 the superfluity in another. It contributes also, to feed 
 and keep alive those provincial jealousies, which often 
 border so closely on hostility of feeling, and to render 
 more prevalent in the different States that conviction of 
 incompatibility in their various interests, which threatens, 
 at no distant period, to cause a total disruption of the 
 Union. 
 
 In opposition to the injurious effects of this clause of 
 the constitution, what are its good ones? I can discover 
 none. As a precaution to secure the election of mem- 
 bers sufficiently acquainted with the interests of the par- 
 ticular district they represent, it is utterly useless. In- 
 deed, a more gratuitous piece of legislation can scarcely 
 be conceived. An American cannot doubt either the 
 will or the capacity of the electors to lake care of their 
 own interests, and to judge of the qualifications of the 
 several candidates who may solicit their suffrages. Even 
 without restriction, it will rarely occur that the inhabi- 
 tants of a particular state or district will elect a stranger 
 for their representative. There are a thousand feelings 
 arising from neighbourhood and habitual intercourse in
 
 COMPARISON WITH ENGLAND. 
 
 
 
 the common business of life, which, in ordinary cases, 
 would prevent this. A candidate from a different State 
 would always come into the field under great disadvan- 
 tages. The current of local prejudice would be entirely 
 in favour of his opponents, and, if in spite of every ob- 
 stacle, he did succeed in securing his return, what would 
 this prove but that he was manifestly the person best 
 qualified to discharge the duties of their representative? 
 
 In Great Britain, notwithstanding the experience of 
 centuries, no such legislative absurdity ever was contem- 
 plated. A man from the" Land's End may sit for 
 Caithness or the Orkneys. A burgess of Berwick-upon- 
 Tweed may be elected at Cork or Limerick. In short, a 
 member, without once changing his domicile, often sitS' 
 in different Parliaments, for different places; nor has it 
 ever entered the imagination of any one, that this free- 
 dom of choice has been productive either of injury or 
 inconvenience. Its advantages, however, are manifold. 
 An English member of Parliament is not necessarily de- 
 pendent on the judgment of his immediate constituents.- 
 He advocates the particular policy which appears to him 
 best calculated to promote the interest of his country, 
 and, whatever his opinions may be, he is not afraid to 
 express them emphatically and openly. It is no doubt 
 possible that this may prevent his' re-election for some 
 borough or county, but the whole country is open ta 
 him; he does not feel himself to be meanly subservient 
 to the inhabitants of one particular district; and his opi- 
 nions must be strange, indeed, if he cannot find some 
 body of constituents with whose notions of policy his 
 own are in accordance. 
 
 But in America all this is different. There no man 
 can be elected except for the particular district in which he 
 chances to reside. If his opinions differ from those which 
 happen to prevail in his own petty circle, he is excluded 
 from public life altogether. There is no alternative, but 
 that of giving up all hope of political distinction, or of 
 speaking and acting in a manner basely subservient to 
 the prejudices and caprices of his constituents. Let a 
 member of Congress attempt to follow a bold, manly, 
 and independent course, and he is instantly sent back 
 into private life, with his feelings injured, and his future
 
 236 DIVISION OF THE LEGISLATURE. 
 
 chances of success materially diminished by the reputa- 
 tion of public failure. 
 
 The absurdity of the amount of representation of the 
 different States being at all influenced by the number of 
 slaves, is too gross to require elaborate exposure. Yet, 
 without this, the Union could not have been effected, 
 owing to the extreme jealousy of the Southern States. 
 It is the fashion in America to dilate on the anomalies of 
 the British constitution, but even the Scottish Higland 
 proprietors, though by no means a body celebrated ei- 
 ther for wisdom or disinterestedness, have not ventured 
 to petition that the black cattle, which, like slaves in 
 Virginia, are sent annually in droves to the south, should 
 be taken into the census of population, with a view to 
 add to their political influence. 
 
 There can be no doubt, that the division of the legis- 
 lature into two bodies, acting separately, and with co-or- 
 dinate powers, is founded in wisdom. It may be doubt- 
 ed, however, whether in times of excitement the Ame- 
 rican Senate would practically be found to have any 
 efficient influence in preventing violent and hasty le- 
 gislation. Unlike the British House of Peers, the Se- 
 nate is not composed of members having a direct and 
 personal interest in maintaining the privileges of their 
 branch of the legislature. They are men taken for a 
 temporary purpose from the common walks of life, to 
 which, at the expiration of their political service, they 
 immediately return. They are subject to all the im- 
 pulses which can affect the deliberations of the more po- 
 pular House. In no point of view do they present 
 themselves under the aspect of an independent body. 
 They are the creatures of popular favour, and in that, 
 like the representatives, they live, move, and have their 
 being. The interests, the habits, the modes of thought, 
 of both bodies are the same. 
 
 It is in vain, therefore, to look to the American Se- 
 nate as affording any check on the tendency towards de- 
 mocracy, which is discernible in all the workings of the 
 constitution. It was the wish of Hamilton, that the Se- 
 nators should be elected for life, and that a considerable 
 qualification of property should be attached to the office. 
 Had Washington publicly supported him in these views,
 
 POWERS OF THE PRESIDENT. 237 
 
 it is probable that a scheme of government, combining 
 greater vigour and durability, might have been adopted. 
 But Washington, though bold in the field, was timid in 
 the cabinet. The opportunity was suffered to pass, and 
 from the period of the adoption of the present constitution, 
 all hopes of organizing a government on a broader and 
 more permanent basis, were for ever at an end. 
 
 The President of the United States is elected for four 
 years. On entering office, he takes an oath to preserve, 
 protect, and defend the constitution of the United States* 
 He is Commander-in-chief of the army and navy, and 
 of the militia of the different States, when called into 
 actual service by the general government. He has the 
 power of negotiating treaties, but not of ratifying them, 
 until sanctioned by a majority of two-thirds of the Se- 
 nate. He nominates all officers, civil and military, but 
 the assent of the Senate is necessary to the validity of 
 the appointment. He receives foreign ambassadors. 
 He may grant pardons and reprieves, except in cases of 
 treason and impeachment Should the two Houses of 
 Congress disagree as to the period of adjournment, he 
 may adjourn them to such time as he may think proper. 
 He fills offices ad interim when the Senate is not sit- 
 ting; but, on their reassembling, that body may a^fiul the 
 appointments. 
 
 Under the control of the President are three executive 
 departments, the heads of which constitute what is 
 called the Cabinet. The Secretary of State discharges 
 all the duties of the foreign department. Through 
 this officer, the President expresses his opinions in all 
 diplomatic intercourse. The other members of the Ca- 
 binet, are the Secretary of the Treasury, of War, and 
 Naval Affairs. 
 
 Of such materials is the American executive composed; 
 and it is impossible to observe the restrictions with which 
 every exercise of its authority has been clogged, with-' 
 out at once perceiving that it was from this quarter alone, 
 that danger to the constitution was expected to proceed* 
 The idea of a perpetual Dictator was the bugbear which 
 frightened American statesmen from their propriety, and 
 rendered them indifferent to all perils which assumed
 
 238 PREVALENT DREAD OF THE EXECUTIVE. 
 
 another and less alarming aspect. Even at the present 
 day, after forty years' experience of their constitution, 
 there are many individuals, otherwise distinguished for 
 talent and good sense, whose imagination is still haunted 
 by ''chimeras dire" of military tyranny, organized by 
 a quadrennial President, with a salary of five thousand 
 a-year, an army of six thousand men, and without inde- 
 pendent and unshackled patronage of any sort! One 
 might be content to smile at such nonsense, if it carried 
 with it no serious consequences; but when we see the des- 
 tinies of a great nation materially affected by it, we can- 
 not but lament the extent and influence of the delusion. 
 In truth, the manifest and pervading defect of the Ame- 
 rican government is the very want of that independent 
 energy which her statesmen regard with so much futile 
 apprehension. The President is a kind of King Log, 
 whom it has been thought prudent to deprive of mem- 
 bers altogether, in order to prevent the possibility of his 
 doing mischief. It might have been very judicious, no- 
 doubt, to extract the teeth and pare the claws of so fero- 
 cious an animal, but certainly not to carry the mutilation 
 so far as to destroy the whole bodily functions, if these 
 could be rendered useful to the community. 
 
 It is to be lamented that a government of greater vi- 
 gour and efficiency was not originally adopted, since the 
 very newness of political institutions is of itself a source 
 of weakness. It is only by slow degrees that the intel- 
 lect and habits of a people become accommodated to the 
 operation of a government, that their prejudices are en- 
 listed in its favour, and a sort of prescriptive respect is 
 obtained which adds materially to the benefit it is capa- 
 ble of conferring. Until the American institutions should 
 have gained this vantage-ground, it was above all things 
 desirable, that they should be established on broad and 
 permanent principles, with enough of independent ener- 
 gy to resist the inroads of mere wanton innovation. Had 
 the federal government been so framed as to rest for sup- 
 port, not on the precarious favour of the multitude, but 
 on the deliberate intelligence of the property and talent 
 of the country, there could have been no assignable limit 
 to the prosperity and intellectual advancement of this 
 fortunate people. At present it only contrives to drag
 
 
 THE CABINET. 239 
 
 on a feeble existence, by adapting its whole policy to 
 the prejudices and passions of the most ignorant part of 
 the community, which it is the bounden duty of every 
 government to restrain and regulate. 
 
 Since we have seen that both the legislative bodies 
 are absolutely and necessarily subservient to the popular 
 feeling, it might have been expected, at least, that the 
 highest executive office of the Republic would have been 
 rendered inaccessible to such influence. It was natural 
 to imagine that the President of the United States would 
 be placed above temptation of every sort, and be assailed 
 by no inducement to swerve from the policy which he 
 might consider best calculated to promote the interests 
 of his country. 
 
 Such a presumption, however, would be entirely un- 
 warranted. The President is elected for a period of four 
 years, but the custom has generally been to re-elect him 
 for a second term of equal duration. From the time of 
 his first inauguration, therefore, the policy of every 
 President is naturally directed to secure this re-election. 
 He takes especial care that the opinions expressed in 
 every State document bearing his sanction, shall be in ac- 
 cordance with the passions or prejudices of the numerical 
 majority of the people. Being without the means of 
 leading opinion, he is content to follow it. He stands in 
 circumstances too precarious to admit of his boldly 
 adopting measures of enlarged and liberal policy, or at- 
 tempting to stem the tide of ignorance and prejudice. In 
 sb,ort, during his first period of office at least, the Ame- 
 rican President is any thing but independent, and when 
 he has succeeded in extending the duration of his power, 
 he stands so committed, so trammelled by pledges of all 
 sorts, so identified with particular opinions, and some 
 particular policy, that it is impossible to retrace his steps 
 without loss both of consistency and character. 
 
 The appointment of great officers of State rests with 
 the President, subject to the approval, of the Senate; and 
 since he bears the whole responsibility of the Cabinet, 
 it seems only fair that he should possess the privilege of 
 selecting the individuals of whom it shall be composed. 
 But even here, independently of the check of the Senate, 
 his choice is not practically free, nor can he always select
 
 240 ROTATION OF OFFICE. 
 
 the men best qualified for the duties to be performed. 
 With a view to his own re-election, the greater and more 
 influential States must be conciliated by the advancement 
 of one of their citizens to a seat in the Cabinet. If the 
 Secretary of State be a native of New York, a citizen of 
 Pennsylvania will probably be appointed to the Treasury, 
 so that the very construction of the Cabinet is materially 
 influenced by the dependence of the President, and the 
 consequent necessity he feels of truckling to local and 
 sectional interests, instead of following the upright and 
 unbending policy, which his own principles and judg- 
 ment would probably have dictated. 
 
 All this is bad, but leaving it entirely out of view, the 
 mere shortness of the period during which any President 
 or any Cabinet can hope to continue in office, appears a 
 circumstance directly injurious to the national interests. 
 It prevents the adoption of any permanent and far-sighted 
 policy, tending progressively to augment the public 
 wealth and prosperity. One man will not plant, that 
 another may reap the harvest of his labours; he will not 
 patiently lay the foundation of a structure, the plan of 
 which is continually liable to be changed by his succes- 
 sors, and on whom, if completed, the whole honours must 
 ultimately devolve. In short, it is an inherent and mon- 
 strous evil, that American statesmen must legislate for 
 the present, not for the future; that they are forced, by 
 the necessity of their situation, to follow the policy most 
 in accordance with the immediate prejudices of the peo- 
 ple, rather than that which is calculated to promote the 
 highest and best interests of the community. Immediate 
 and temporary expediency is, and must be, the moving 
 and efficient impulse of American legislation. The po- 
 litical institutions of the United States are consistent nei- 
 ther with stability of purpose in the legislative, nor vi- 
 gour in the executive departments. Let us look where 
 we will, all is feeble and vascillating. There is no con- 
 fidence reposed in public men; no appeal to the higher 
 and more generous motives which influence conduct; no 
 scope for the display of lofty and independent character; 
 no principle from the operation of which we can ration- 
 ally expect any higher development of the national mind. 
 
 The exclusion of the ministers from even a delibera-
 
 EXCLUSION OF MINISTERS FROM OFFICE. 241 
 
 live voice in either branch of the legislature, is another 
 curious feature in the American constitution. It pro- 
 ceeds, no doubt, from that extreme jealousy of the exe- 
 cutive to which I have alluded; and is necessarily pro- 
 ductive of much delay and inconvenience. No commu- 
 nication can take place between the legislative bodies and 
 the heads of departments otherwise than by writing, and 
 the consequence is, that long and inconclusive debates 
 are constantly taking place, which a little information 
 from an official functionary might have prevented. Un- 
 der the present arrangement, a minister of state never 
 appears at all in the eyes of the public. He has. to< brave 
 no enemy, and repel no attack. He can be cited before 
 no tribunal, and cannot be called upon to stand forth and 
 vindicate his conduct in the face of his country. He re- 
 mains securely sheltered under the cloak of the Presi- 
 dent, on whose shoulders rests the whole political re- 
 sponsibility of the cabinet. 
 
 It is somewhat strange that the American constitution, 
 which evidently presumes that every man in office is a 
 scoundrel, should have removed^ in this instance, one of 
 the strongest and most efficient securities for public vir- 
 tue. In England, for one half of the year at least, minis- 
 ters are brought into immediate contact with their po- 
 litical opponents. They are compelled to give public 
 explanations of their conduct. They are kept in conti- 
 nual remembrance of their official responsibility. They 
 are subjected to a test which it requires not only upright 
 policy, but high talent, to encounter successfully. A 
 British minister cannot skulk in Downing Street, when 
 the Commons of England are discussing the wisdom of 
 his measures, or the purity of his motives^ He stands 
 forward in the eye of the world; he challenges inquiry; 
 he meets his accusers face to face; he answers publicly a 
 public accusation, and according to the verdict given he 
 stands or falls. 
 
 No man can believe, I should iroagine> that such habi- 
 tual and inexorable scrutiny, anticipated by every public 
 officer, is not productive of the most beneficial conse- 
 quences. But from any thing like this the high func- 
 tionaries in the United States are scrupulously protected. 
 The oracles of an American minister are issued only from 
 
 31
 
 242 STANDING COMMITTEES OF CONGRESS. 
 
 the shrine of his bureau. He is too delicate a flower for 
 the rough handling of a public assembly, and of course 
 may disregard attack, where the constitution has so wise- 
 ly precluded the possibility of defence. 
 
 It is no answer to all this to say, that every public of- 
 ficer in the United States is liable to impeachment, in 
 case of individual malversation in office. No doubt he is 
 so; but violation of trust in a minister of state, so flagrant 
 as to warrant impeachment, is an offence of rare occur- 
 rence, and one for which the disgrace of public exposure 
 is generally a sufficient punishment. What is chiefly to 
 be guarded against are the jobs, the trickeries, the petty 
 impurities of office, which the necessity of braving per- 
 sonal examination in a public assembly would proably 
 prevent. The Americans, therefore, in excluding their 
 executive officers from all place in their representative 
 bodies, have gratuitously discarded a powerful and effi- 
 cient security for the honest and upright administration 
 of their affairs. The knowledge that every political mea- 
 sure will be subjected to a rigid and unsparing scrutiny, 
 and must be defended to the satisfaction of honourable 
 men in open discussion, is, perhaps, the most powerful 
 safeguard devised by human ingenuity to secure the in- 
 tegrity of public men. 
 
 When we look, however, somewhat more minutely into 
 the details of this republican government, it is soon per- 
 ceived that the members of the cabinet are, in truth, no- 
 thing better than superintending clerks in the depart- 
 ments over which they nominally preside. At the com- 
 mencement of every Congress, the practice is to appoint 
 standing committees, who, in fact, manage the whole 
 business of the executive departments. The process is 
 as follows: The President, in his message, invites the 
 attention of Congress to such subjects as may appear of na- 
 tional importance. Permanent committees are appoint- 
 ed by both Houses, and to these the consideration of the 
 various interests of the country is referred. Thus, what- 
 ever relates to finance falls within the department of the 
 " committee of ways and means," while that on foreign 
 affairs assumes cognizance of every thing connected with 
 the external relations of the government. These com- 
 mittees have separate apartments, in which the real busi-
 
 WASHINGTON. 343 
 
 ness of the country is carried on, and from which the 
 heads of the executive departments are rigidly excluded. 
 The whole power of the government is thus absolutely 
 and literally absorbed by the people; for no bill, connect- 
 ed with any branch of public affairs, could be brought 
 into Congress with the smallest prospect of success, 
 which had not previously received the initiative appro- 
 bation of these committees. 
 
 It should be remembered, that the power thus assumed 
 by the people is wholly unknown to the Constitution. 
 It is one of those important, but silent encroachments, 
 which are progressively affecting the forms, as they have 
 long done the spirit of the government. It is still, how- 
 ever, the fashion to say, if not to believe, that the Con- 
 stitution remains unchanged; and it is scarcely worth 
 while to argue the point with men who are evidently de- 
 ficient either in sincerity or penetration. But if any man 
 of sense and sagacity, who can be considered unbiassed 
 by the prejudices of habit and education, will declare, 
 after a deliberate examination of the working of this go- 
 vernment, that its whole important functions are not prac- 
 tically engrossed by the House of representatives, I shall 
 be ready to give up those opinions which I now offer to 
 the world, as imbodying the result of my own observa- 
 tions in the United States. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 THOUGH the soil of the United States may be considered 
 ungenial for the growth of philosophy and literature, it 
 would certainly appear to be very happily adapted for 
 the cultivation of eloquence. It is one effect of free in- 
 stitutions, that in multiplying the depositories of political 
 power, they render the faculty of persuasion a necessary 
 element on which successful ambition must rest for sup- 
 port. Under a despotic government, there is "ample
 
 244 IMPORTANCE OF ELOQUENCE. 
 
 room and verge enough" for no eloquence but that of 
 the pulpit. There exists little community of sentiment 
 between the governors and the governed, and habits of 
 passive obedience are incompatible with that buoyancy 
 of thought and feeling with which true eloquence is in- 
 separably connected. But in a republic the whole inte- 
 rests of man, individually and collectively, become mat- 
 ter of unrestricted discussion, and afford vantage-ground 
 for the orator. Earth, air, ocean, and the living myriads 
 that inhabit them and that wider world of thought and 
 consciousness existing in the human breast, are all corn- 
 prised within the limits of his dominion, and obey the 
 impulse of his genius. 
 
 In America the power of persuasion constitutes the 
 only lever of political advancement. In England, though 
 the field for the exercise of this talent be very great, yet 
 rank, wealth, family connexions, hereditary claims, and 
 a thousand other influences must be taken into account, 
 in reckoning the ordinary elements of successful ambi- 
 tion. How powerful whether for good or evil I shall 
 not inquire many of these are, is well known, but none 
 of them exist in the United States. There, rank is un- 
 known; there are no great accumulations of property; and 
 competition for the higher offices of the commonwealth 
 has long been rather the struggle of men, or more pro- 
 perly, perhaps, of sectional interests, than of principles. 
 The candidates, however, for every situation of emolu- 
 ment, are, beyond all example, in this country, nume- 
 rous; and, as each individual is naturally anxious to esta- 
 blish some trifling point of superiority in reference to his 
 opponents, the consequence is, that political opinion is 
 dissected with a degree of nicety which the most accom- 
 plished metaphysician would find it difficult to surpass. 
 But all enter the contest armed with the same weapons, 
 displaying the same banner, appealing to the same um- 
 pire, and contending for the same reward. Patronage 
 of every kind is virtually in the hands of the people. 
 They are the fountains of fame and of honour, the ulti- 
 mate tribunal by which all appeals must be heard and 
 decided. 
 
 In the United States, oral eloquence, and the news- 
 paper press, constitute the only instruments really avaiJ-
 
 INFLUENCE OF AMERICAN NEWSPAPERS. 345 
 
 able in acquiring influence over this many-headed and 
 irresponsible arbiter of merit and measures. There ex- 
 ists, indeed, no other channel through which there is 
 any possibility of attaining political distinction. The 
 influence and circulation of newspapers is great beyond 
 any thing ever known in Europe. In truth, nine-tenths 
 of the population read nothing else, and are, conse- 
 quently, mentally inaccessible by any other avenue. 
 Every village, nay, almost every hamlet, has its press, 
 which issues second-hand news, and serves as an arena 
 in which the political gladiators of the neighbourhood 
 may exercise their powers of argument and abuse. The 
 conductors of these journals are generally shrewd but 
 \ineducated men, extravagant in praise or censure, clear 
 in their judgment of every thing connected with their 
 own interests, and exceedingly indifferent to all matters 
 which have no discernible relation to their own pockets 
 or privileges. 
 
 The power exercised by this class of writers over the 
 public mind is very great. Books circulate with diffi- 
 culty in a thinly-peopled country, and are not objects 
 on which the solitary denizen of the forest would be 
 likely to expend any portion of the produce of his la- 
 bour. But newspapers penetrate to every crevice of 
 the Union. There is no settlement so remote as to be 
 cut off from this channel of intercourse with their fellow 
 men. It is thus that the clamour of the busy world is 
 heard even in the wilderness, and the most remote inva- 
 der of distant wilds is kept alive in his solitude to the 
 common ties of brotherhood and country. 
 
 Newspapers have a character and influence, distinct 
 from that of all other literature. They are emphatically 
 present existences ; the links between the past and the 
 future. Forming part, as it were, of the very business 
 of life, they are never alien to the minds of those who 
 participate in its interests. They are read ; laid aside ; 
 forgotten at night, to be again remembered in the morn- 
 ing. In truth, it is this incessant recreation which con- 
 stitutes their power. The opinions of men are yielded 
 willingly to their influence. It is constant dropping, 
 as the old proverb hath it, which wears the stone. 
 
 But the newspaper press is perhaps better adapted for
 
 246 MODE OF ACQUIRING ORAL ELOQUENCE. 
 
 the advocation and diffusion of the principles of a party, 
 than for the attainment of the immediate objects of indi- 
 vidual ambition. The influence of a public journal can 
 scarcely be considered a thing personal to its conductor. 
 It circulates in a thousand places where his name and 
 existence are entirely unknown. Indeed, to the great 
 mass of his readers he is not a man of thews and sinews, 
 broad cloth and corduroys, eating, drinking, spitting, 
 and tobacco-chewing like themselves, but a sort of airy 
 and invisible being, a voice, a mystery," which it re- 
 quires an effort of abstraction to impersonate. 
 
 In America, therefore, the influence of the pen, though 
 admitting of vast extension, is only secondary, as an in- 
 strument of political ambition, to that of the tongue. A 
 writer may enforce the peculiar tenets of his party with 
 the utmost skill, and support them with great logical 
 acuteness, and yet be very scantily endowed with the 
 powers of a debater. Such powers, however, are indis- 
 pensable, or, at least, in the estimation of the electors, 
 are practically found to outweigh every other accom- 
 plishment. A convincing proof of this almost uniform 
 preference may be found in the fact, that of the whole 
 federal legislature nineteen-twentieths are lawyers, men 
 professionally accustomed to public speaking. The mer- 
 chants the great capitalists of New York, Boston, and 
 Philadelphia, and the other Atlantic cities, constituting, 
 I fear not to say, the most enlightened body of citizens 
 in the Union are almost as effectually excluded from 
 political power, by deficiency in oratorical accomplish- 
 ment, as they could be by express legal enactment. 
 
 The acquisition of a faculty so important, therefore, 
 is necessarily one of the primary objects of Transatlantic 
 education. Teachers of elocution, and of all the petty 
 trickeries of delivery, to which inferior men find it ne- 
 cessary to resort, abound every where. An American 
 boy, from the very first year of his going to school, is 
 accustomed to spout. At college he makes public ora- 
 tions. On emerging into life he frequents debating soci- 
 eties, numerous every where, and his qualifications thus 
 become known to the electors, whose suffrages on some 
 future occasion he is anxious to obtain. He then com- 
 mences practice as a lawyer, and in that capacity reaps
 
 LONG SPEECHES IN CONGRESS. 347 
 
 some advantage from his previous notoriety. The road 
 to political distinction then opens. He is probably elect- 
 ed a member of the legislature of his native State. 
 Should he acquit himself in his new capacity with cre- 
 dit, in a few years he becomes a delegate to Congress, 
 and enters on a higher sphere of legislative duty. At 
 no period of his progress, however, is his tenure of the 
 favour of his constituents secure. There is a sectional 
 jealousy prevalent throughout the United States; a rest- 
 less anxiety in the inhabitants of each district, that their 
 local, and perhaps exclusive interests, however insignifi- 
 cant, should be resolutely obtruded on the attention of 
 the legislature. They consider also that their own con- 
 sequence is intimately affected by the figure made by 
 their representative in Congress, and would feel it to be 
 a dereliction, on his part, of their just claims, were he to 
 suffer any interesting question to pass without engrossing 
 some portion of the attention of the Assembly. 
 
 Verily, the yoke of such constituents is not easy, nor 
 is their burden light. The public prints must bear fre- 
 quent record of the loquacity of their representative, or 
 they are not satisfied. The consequence is, that in the 
 American Congress there is more of what may be called 
 speaking against time, than in any other deliberative 
 assembly ever known. Each member is aware that he 
 must either assume a certain prominence, or give up all 
 hope of future re-election, and it is needless to say which 
 alternative is usually preferred. A universal tolerance 
 of long speeches is thus generated, and no attempt is 
 ever made to restrict the range of argument or declama- 
 tion, within the limits even of remote connexion with 
 the subject of debate. One continually reads in the pub- 
 lic papers such announcements as the following: 
 
 "In the House of Representatives, yesterday, Mr. 
 Tompkins occupied the whole day with the continuation 
 of his brilliant speech on the Indian question, and is in 
 possession of the floor to-morrow. He is expected to con- 
 clude on Friday; but, from the press of other business, it 
 will probably be Tuesday next before Mr. Jefferson X. 
 Bagg will commence his reply, which is expected to oc- 
 cupy the whole remainder of the week." 
 
 In fact, an oration of eighteen or twenty hours is no
 
 248 STYLE OF SPEAKING IN CONGRESS. 
 
 uncommon occurrence in the American Congress. After 
 this vast expenditure of breath, the next step of the ora- 
 tor is to circulate his speech in the form f a closely- 
 printed pamphlet of some hundred and fifty pages. A 
 plentiful supply of copies is despatched for the use of his 
 constituents, who swallow the bait; and at the conclusion 
 of the session, the member returns to his native town, 
 where he is lauded, feasted, and toasted, and what he 
 values, I doubt not, still more re-elected. 
 
 The Americans enjoy the reputation in Europe of be- 
 ing par excellence a sensible people. I fear their charac- 
 ter in this respect must suffer some depreciation in the 
 opinion of those who have enjoyed the advantage of ob- 
 serving the proceedings of their legislative assemblies. 
 The mode in which the discussion of public business is car- 
 ried on in Congress, certainly struck me as being not only 
 unstatesmanlike, but in flagrant violation of the plainest 
 dictates of common sense. The style of speaking is loose, 
 rambling and inconclusive; and adherence to the real sub- 
 ject of discussion evidently forms no part, either of the in- 
 tention of the orator, or the expectation of his audience. A 
 large proportion of the speakers seems to take part in a de- 
 bate with no other view than that of individual display, 
 and it sometimes happens that the topic immediately press- 
 ing on the attention of the assembly, by some strange per- 
 versity, is almost the only one on which nothing is said. 
 
 It is evident that such a style of discussion if discussion 
 it can be called could only become prevalent in an as- 
 sembly with an abundance of leisure for the enactment 
 of these oratorical interludes. In a body like the British 
 Parliament, compelled by the pressure of business to be 
 economical of time, it could not possibly be tolerated. The 
 clamorous interests of a great nation are matters too seri- 
 ous to be trifled with, and time is felt to be too valuable 
 for expenditure on speeches better fitted for a spouting 
 club, than a grave, deliberative assembly. 
 
 The truth, I believe, is, that the American Congress 
 have really very little to do. All the multiplied details 
 of local and municipal legislation fall within the province 
 of the State governments, and the regulation of commerce 
 and foreign intercourse practically includes all the im- 
 portant questions which they are called on to decide.
 
 WANT OF ORGANIZATION. 349 
 
 Nor are the members generally very anxious so to abbre- 
 viate the proceedings of Congress, as to ensure a speedy 
 return to their provinces. They are well paid for every 
 hour lavished on the public business; and being once at 
 Washington, and enjoying the pleasures of its society, few 
 are probably solicitous for the termination of functions 
 which combine the advantage of real emolument, with 
 the opportunities of acquiring distinction in the eyes of 
 their constituents. The farce, therefore, by common con- 
 sent, continues to be played on. Speeches apparently in- 
 terminable, are tolerated, though not listened to; and 
 every manoeuvre, by which the discharge of public busi- 
 ness can be protracted, is resorted to, with the most per- 
 fect success. 
 
 Of course, I state this merely as the readiest hypothe- 
 sis by which the facts, already mentioned, can be ex- 
 plained; but, in truth, there are many other causes at 
 work. Though in either House there is no deficiency of 
 party spirit, and political hostilities are waged with great 
 vigour, yet both in attack and defence there is evidently 
 an entire want both of discipline and organization. There 
 is no concert, no division of duties, no compromise of opi- 
 nion; but the movements of party are executed without 
 regularity or premeditation. Thus, instead of the sys- 
 tematic and combined attack of an organized body, deli- 
 berately concerted on principles which will unite the 
 greatest number of auxiliaries, governments have in ge- 
 neral to sustain only the assaults of single and desultory 
 combatants, who mix up so much of individual peculiarity 
 of opinion, with what is common to their party, that any 
 general system of effective co-operation is impossible. ' It 
 is evident enough, in whatever business the House may 
 be engaged, that each individual acts for himself, and is 
 eager to make or discover some opportunity of lavishing 
 all his crudities of thought or fancy on his brother legis- 
 lators. 
 
 The consequence of all this is, that no one can guess, 
 with any approach to probability, the course of discus- 
 sion on any given subject. A speech, an argument, an 
 insinuation, an allusion, is at any time sufficient to turn 
 the whole current of debate into some new and unfore- 
 
 32
 
 250 CLAIMS OF MR. MONROE. 
 
 seen channel; and I have often found it absolutely impos- 
 sible to gather, from the course of argument, even the na- 
 ture of the question on which the House were divided in 
 opinion. In England, it is at least pretty certain that a 
 motion on criminal law will not lead to a discussion on 
 foreign policy, including the improvement of turnpike 
 roads, the expenses of Plymouth breakwater, the renewal 
 of the East India Company's charter, and the prospects 
 of the Swan River settlement. But in America, a debate 
 in Congress is a sort of steeple-chase, in which no one 
 knows any thing of the country to be crossed, and it often 
 happens that the object of pursuit is altogether lost sight 
 of by the whole party. 
 
 One effect I do not know that it is a bad one of this 
 excursive style of discussion is, that every member finds it 
 necessary to be on the qui vive. Something may at any 
 moment be said, to which it is necessary that the repre- 
 sentative for a particular state or district should immedi- 
 ately reply. Whatever may be the subject of debate, no 
 member especially in the Lower House can be absent 
 a single hour with safety, when an orator of the hostile 
 party, according to the American phrase, " is in possession 
 of the floor." I have often, in coming to the Capitol, in- 
 quired of members of the House of Representatives 
 whether it was probable that any interesting discussion 
 would take place in the course of the day. The answer 
 uniformly was, that it was impossible to foresee; for 
 though the topic then occupying the attention of the 
 House might be of the most common-place kind, the 
 debate was liable at any moment to diverge, and bring 
 on the most unexpected results. But on this matter as 
 I have already perhaps dealt too much in " wise saws," 
 I shall take the liberty of adducing a few modern in- 
 stances. 
 
 One of the first debates at which I was present, related 
 to a pecuniary claim of the late President Monroe on the 
 United States, amounting, if I remember rightly, to sixty 
 thousand dollars. This claim had long been urged, and 
 been repeatedly referred to committees of the House of 
 Representatives, who, after a careful investigation of the 
 subject, had uniformly reported in favour of its justice.
 
 CLAIM OF COMMODORE DECATUR. 351 
 
 The question at length came on for discussion, "Is the 
 debt claimed by Mr. Monroe from the United States a 
 just debt or not?" Nothing could possibly be more sim- 
 ple. Here was a plain matter of debtor and creditor; a 
 problem of figures, the solution of which must rest on a 
 patient examination of accounts, and charges, and ba- 
 lances. It was a question after the heart of Joseph Hume, 
 a bone, of which that most useful legislator understands 
 so well how to get at the marrow. 
 
 Well, how was this dry question treated in the House 
 of Representatives ? Why, as follows. Little or nothing 
 was said as to the intrinsic justice or validity of the claim. 
 Committees of the House had repeatedly reported in its 
 favour, and I heard no attempt, by fact or inference, ta 
 prove the fallacy of their decision. But a great deal was 
 said about the political character of Mr. Monroe some do- 
 zen years before, and a great deal about Virginia, and its 
 Presidents and its members, and its attempts to govern the 
 Union, and its selfish policy. A vehement discussion took 
 place as to whether Mr. Monroe or Chancellor Livingston 
 had been the' efficient agent in procuring the cession of 
 Louisiana. Members waxed warm in attack and recri- 
 mination, and a fiery gentleman from Virginia was re- 
 peatedly called to order by the Speaker. One member 
 declared, that disapproving tolo calo of the former policy 
 of Mr. Monroe's Cabinet, he should certainly now oppose 
 his demand for the payment of a debt, the justice of which 
 was not attempted to be disproved. Another thought 
 Mr. Monroe would be very well off if he got half of what 
 he claimed, and moved an amendment to that effect, 
 which, being considered a kind of compromise, I believe, 
 was at length carried, after repeated adjournments, and 
 much clamorous debate. 
 
 Another instance of discussion, somewhat similar, struck 
 me very forcibly, and will afford, I imagine, sufficient il- 
 lustration of the mode of doing business in the House of 
 Representatives. It took place on a claim put forward 
 by the widow of Commodore Decatur, for prize money 
 due to him and his ship's crew for something done in the 
 Mediterranean. The particulars I forget, but they are 
 of no consequence. The Commodore having no family,
 
 252 DEBATE ON THE CLAIM. 
 
 had bequeathed the whole of his property, real and per- 
 sonal, to his wife, whom circumstances had since reduced 
 to poverty. When I entered, the debate had already 
 commenced, and the House seemed almost unanimous in 
 the admission of the claim. This was dull enough, and as 
 the subject itself had little to engage the attention of a 
 stranger, 1 determined to try whether any thing of more 
 interest was going forward in the Senate. While I was 
 conversing with a member of the House, however, some 
 symptoms of difference of opinion began to manifest them- 
 selves. One member proposed, that as the money was to 
 be granted principally with a view to benefit the widow 
 of Commodore Decatur, the ordinary rules of prize divi- 
 sion should not be adhered to, and that a larger share than 
 usual should be allotted to the commander of the arma- 
 ment. This proposition, however, was evidently adverse 
 to the wishes of the majority, and the amendment met 
 with little support. This matter being settled, the discus- 
 sion for some time went on smoothly enough, and there 
 seemed every prospect of its reaching a speedy and ami- 
 cable termination. 
 
 At length, however, a member rose, and argued that 
 the circumstance of the Commodore having bequeathed 
 his whole property to his wife, when he imagined he had 
 very little property to leave, afforded no ground for the 
 conclusion, that had he known of this large addition, it 
 might not have been differently applied. He, therefore, 
 expressed his firm determination to oppose its exclusive 
 appropriation to the widow. The widow, however, was 
 not without able and zealous advocates to set forth her 
 claims, and urge their admission. These pronounced her 
 to be one of the most amiable and excellent of her sex, 
 and maintained that, as the House had no possible access 
 to know how the Commodore would have acted under 
 circumstances merely hypothetical, there was no course 
 to be pursued but to appropriate the money according to 
 the desire actually expressed in his last will and testa- 
 ment. 
 
 While the House were, for the nonce, divided into wi- 
 dowites and anti-widowites, the discussion became still far- 
 ther embroiled. New matter of debate arose. Admitting
 
 DEBATE IN CONGRESS. 253 
 
 that Mrs. Decatur was entitled to the usufruct of the 
 money during her life, was it fitting that she should have 
 the power of alienating it at her death from the relatives 
 of her husband? This was very warmly debated. At 
 length, a gentlemen, in a very vehement and pathetic 
 speech, set forth the attractions, both mental and person- 
 al, of two young ladies, daughters of a sister of Captain 
 Decatur, whose necessities, unfortunately, were equal to 
 their merits. He had the honour, he said, of being their 
 neighbour in the country ; they were elegant and accom- 
 plished, and often did his family the honour to accept such 
 hospitality as they could offer. He should certainly op- 
 pose the grant altogether, if these young ladies were not 
 to come in for a share. 
 
 This speech had evidently great effect, and the party 
 of the young ladies comprising, of course, all the bache- 
 lors of the House was evidently a strong one. A grave, 
 elderly member, however, took up the cudgels on the 
 other side. He informed the House, that the brother of 
 Commodore Decatur had been his intimate friend, and, 
 unfortunately, had left a family very scantily provided 
 for. What claims could any young ladies, however ac- 
 complished, who were daughters only of a sister, possess 
 equal to those of this brother's children ? The latter were 
 evidently the proper objects to be benefited by the pre- 
 sent grant. He should oppose it on any other terms. 
 
 The number of amendments had now become very 
 great, and the accumulation of obstacles was increasing 
 with every speech. I was assured, and from the tenor 
 of the debate, I have no doubt it was so, that a majority 
 was decidedly in favour of the original claim, but minor 
 discrepancies of opinion were found to be irreconcilable. 
 Some insisted on the widow receiving the whole amount 
 of the grant ; others that it should go to the brother's fa- 
 mily; others that the young ladies should be enriched by 
 it, and others still were for a general division, while a 
 considerable party advocated the propriety of voting the 
 grant, untrammelled by condition of any sort. The result 
 was, that, after a most unprofitable waste of many hours, 
 no money was granted at all, and the matter left for far- 
 ther debate in another Congress, when the farce I have 

 
 254 AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 
 
 just described will be re-enacted, no doubt, with all its 
 original spirit. 
 
 During my attendances at the Capitol, I have been 
 sometimes amused by observing the process by which a 
 question, originally simple, becomes, in the progress of 
 discussion, so complicated and mixed up with irrelevant 
 matter, and loses so completely all logical form, that it 
 might puzzle the most expert dialectician to form any 
 judgment on it at all. I have often attempted, on enter- 
 ing the House during a debate, to discover from the 
 speeches something of the nature of the topic which oc- 
 cupied the attention of the assembly. In this, I was ge- 
 nerally unsuccessful, and my conjectures were sometimes 
 almost ludicrously wide of the mark. Indeed, it was no 
 uncommon occurrence for the mass of amendments to be- 
 come so great, that even the members were bewildered, 
 and were compelled to apply to the Speaker to explain 
 their bearing on each other, and the original question; 
 and certainly nothing gave me a higher opinion of the 
 powers of that gentleman, than the clear and skilful man- 
 ner in which he managed to recall the attention to the 
 real point at issue, and prevent the House from becoming 
 absolutely stultified by its own proceedings. 
 
 In looking back to the earlier days of the republic, it 
 would be scarcely fair to try the specimens of oratory that 
 have come down to us by the standard of very rigid criti- 
 cism. The appropriate eloquence of the time was that 
 of action, not of words. While the struggle for liberty 
 was undecided, the men who dwelt in camps, and spoke 
 with swords in their hands, had no leisure to think of 
 tropes and figures, and their addresses to their country- 
 men were distinguished by a manly earnestness worthy of 
 the great cause in which they had embarked, and which 
 more than compensated for unavoidable deficiencies of 
 taste. 
 
 But with the achievement of the national independence 
 a different state of things arose. Oratory, which on great 
 and critical occasions, when mighty interests are at stake, 
 and men give strong utterance to irrepressible convic- 
 tions, is less an art than an impulse, became in more 
 peaceful times a mere branch of professional accomplish-
 
 AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 255 
 
 ment, which it was considered necessary for particular 
 aspirants to acquire. The succeeding generation of Ame- 
 ricans were not content, as their fathers had been, with 
 the simple expression of their feelings and opinions, with- 
 out rhetorical embellishment, or studied artifices of speech. 
 They attempted higher flights, but their ambition was 
 more remarkable for its daring than its success. The re- 
 corded specimens of this period of the republic indicate a 
 sad deficiency of taste, originality, and imaginative power. 
 Starting, like another Adam, into sudden political exist- 
 ence, speaking the language, preserving the laws, and 
 dependent on the literature of England, America found it 
 more difficult to cast off the trammels of mental allegi- 
 ance, than to burst asunder the bonds of physical enthral- 
 ment. Strong arms and brave hearts had proved ade- 
 quate to the one, but a higher intellectual advancement 
 than they had yet attained was necessary for the other. 
 
 Thus it was, that from the very dawn of their inde- 
 pendence, the Americans became an imitative people. 
 Having no examples of native excellence to appeal to, 
 they at once adopted the models of another nation, with- 
 out reflecting that these, however excellent, might be ill 
 adapted for imitation in a state of manners arid society 
 altogether different. Surrounded by all the elements of 
 originality in the world of untried images and associations 
 with which they were familiar, they renounced them all, 
 to become the imitators of a people, who, to this hour, 
 have denied them even the praise of skilful imitation. 
 
 The world affords no instance of a people, among whom 
 an eloquence, merely imitative, ever was successful. It 
 is indeed quite evident, that eloquence, to.be effective, 
 must be expressly accommodated, not only to the general 
 condition of society, but to the habits, intelligence, sympa- 
 thies, prejudices, and peculiarities of the audience. The 
 images which appeal most forcibly to the feelings of one 
 people, will fail utterly of effect when addressed to ano- 
 ther, living under a different climate, accustomed to a 
 different aspect of external nature, and of habits and par- 
 tialities generated under a different modification of social 
 intercourse. 
 
 The first great objection, therefore, to American elo- 
 quence, is, that it is not American. When a traveller
 
 256 AMERICAN ELOQUENCE. 
 
 visits the United States, and sees the form and pressure 
 of society; a population thinly scattered through regions 
 of interminable forest; appearances of nature widely va- 
 rying from those of European countries; the entire ab- 
 stinence of luxury; the prevailing plainness of manner 
 and expression; the general deficiency of literary ac- 
 quirement; the thousand visible consequences of demo- 
 cratic institutions; he' is naturally led to expect that the 
 eloquence of such a people would be marked at least by 
 images and associations peculiar to their own circum- 
 stances and condition. This anticipation would, no 
 doubt, be strengthened by the first aspect of Congress. 
 He would find in the Capitol of Washington two assem- 
 blies of plain farmers and attorneys; men who exhibited 
 in their whole deportment an evident aversion from the 
 graces and elegancies of polished society; of coarse appe- 
 tites, and coarser manners; and betraying a practical con- 
 tempt for all knowledge not palpably convertible to the 
 purposes of pecuniary profit. The impression might not 
 be pleasing, but he would congratulate himself on having 
 at least escaped from the dull regions of common-place, 
 and calculate on being spared the penalty of listening to 
 the monotonous iteration of hackneyed metaphor, and 
 the crambe recocta of British oratory, hashed up for pur- 
 poses of public benefit or private vanity, by a Washing- 
 ton cuisinier. 
 
 In all this he would be most wretchedly deceived. 
 He might patiently sit out speeches of a week's duration, 
 without detecting even the vestige of originality, ei- 
 ther of thought or illustration. But he would be dosed 
 ad nauseam, with trite quotations from Latin authors, 
 apparently extracted for the nonce from the school-books 
 of some neighbouring academy for young gentlemen. 
 He would hear abundance of truisms, both moral and 
 political, emphatically asserted, and most illogically 
 proved; he would learn the opinions of each successive 
 orator on all matters of national policy, foreign and do- 
 mestic. He would be gorged to the very throat with 
 the most extravagant praises of the American govern- 
 ment, and the character and intelligence of the people. 
 He would listen to the interminable drivellings of an in- 
 satiable vanity, which, like the sisters of the horse-leech,
 
 ELOQUENCE OF CONGRESS. 357 
 
 is for ever crying, " Give, give." He would follow the 
 orator into the seventh heaven of bombast, and descend 
 with him into the lowest regions of the bathos. Still, in 
 all this he would detect nothing but a miserably executed 
 parody a sort of bungling plagiarism an imitation of 
 inapplicable models a mimicry like that of the clown in 
 a pantomime, all ridicule and burlesque. In American 
 oratory, in short, he will find nothing vernacular but the 
 vulgarities, and the entire disregard of those proprieties, 
 on the scrupulous observance of which the effect even of 
 the highest eloquence must necessarily depend. 
 
 In Congress, the number of men who have received 
 what even in the United States is called a classical edu- 
 cation, is extremely small, and of these the proportion 
 who still retain sufficient scholarship to find pleasure in 
 allusion to the words of the great writers of antiquity, 
 is yet smaller. The great majority are utterly and reck- 
 lessly ignorant of the learned languages, and the whole 
 literature imbodied in them; and it is evident that, with 
 such an audience, any appeal to classical authority is 
 mere waste of breath in the one party, and of patience 
 in the other. It may appear strange, under such circum- 
 stances, but I have no doubt of the fact, that in the 
 course of a session, more Latin such as it is is quoted 
 in the House of Representatives, than in both Houses of 
 the British Parliament. Indeed, it is ludicrous enough 
 to observe the solicitude of men, evidently illiterate/ to 
 trick out their speeches with such hackneyed ext/acts 
 from classical authors, as they may have picked up in 
 the course of a superficial reading. Thus, if a member 
 be attacked, he will probably assure the House, not in 
 plain English, that the charge of his opponent is weak, 
 and without foundation, but in Latin that \L is " telum 
 imbelle et sine iclu." Should he find occasion to pro- 
 fess philanthropy, the chances are that thd words of Te- 
 rence, " Homo sum, humani m/7,"&c. will be mis- 
 pronounced in a pathetic accent, witfi the right hand 
 pressed gracefully on the breast. In short, members 
 were always ready with some petty scrap of threadbare 
 trumpery, which, like the Cosmogonist in the Vicar of 
 Wakefield, they kept cut and dry for the frequent occa- 
 sions of oratorical emergency. 
 
 33
 
 258 MR- RANDOLPH. 
 
 During my stay in Washington, I had the good for- 
 tune to be present at one debate, in the House of Repre- 
 sentatives, which excited much public interest. It re- 
 lated to the appointment of Mr. Randolph as Minister to 
 the Court of Russia. The circumstances were as follow: 
 Early in 1830, it was judged right by the Cabinet of 
 Washington to have a resident minister at the Court of 
 Russia. The individual selected for this high appoint- 
 ment was Mr. John Randolph, a gentleman of much ec- 
 centricity, high talents, and confessedly gifted with ex- 
 traordinary powers as a debater. Though this gentle- 
 man has never held any political office, yet he has uni- 
 formly engrossed a very large share of public attention, 
 and has had the art or the misfortune in his own country 
 to attract an unexampled portion of sincere admiration 
 and vehement dislike. No man in America ever brought 
 to debate an equal power of biting sarcasm, and few 
 men, perhaps, if so gifted, would have used it so unspa- 
 ringly. With the qualities of a statesman, Mr. Ran- 
 dolph is not considered by his countrymen to be largely 
 endowed. His true element is opposition^ He has at- 
 tacked every successive administration for the last thirty 
 years, with what vigour and effect those who have 
 writhed under the torture of his withering invectives can 
 alone adequately describe. There is, indeed, something 
 Umost fearfully ingenious in his employment of epithets, 
 w\uch cut, as it were, to the very core, the objects of his 
 wrath. In habit and feeling, no man can be more aris- 
 tocratic than Mr. Randolph, yet he has always been the 
 stanch advocate of democratic principles. In one re- 
 spect, ht is the very converse of Jefferson. He detests 
 French literature and French society, praises England 
 and her government, perhaps, more than they deserve, and 
 among his strange and multifarious acquirements must 
 be included an accurate acquaintance with the genealo- 
 gies of the whole British Peerage! 
 
 When the situation of Minister to the Court of St. Pe- 
 tersburg was offered to this remarkable individual, he 
 candidly informed the President that the state of his 
 health was such, as to render him incapable of braving 
 the severities of a Russian climate, and that, unless per- 
 mitted to pass the winter months in London or Paris, he
 
 MK. TRISTRAM BURGESS. 359 
 
 should feel compelled to decline the appointment. The 
 permission was granted, and Mr. Randolph departed on 
 his mission. He left, however, many enemies behind 
 him; men who had suffered under the lash of his elo- 
 quence, and were naturally anxious to seize every oppor- 
 tunity of retorting punishment on so formidable an op- 
 ponent. 
 
 A few days before my arrival in Washington, the sub- 
 ject of his appointment had been fairly brought into de- 
 bate, and a Mr. Tristram Burgess, from Rhode Island, 
 had made a vehement attack, both on Mr. Randolph, and 
 on the Government. This called up Mr. Crambreleng, 
 one of the members for New York; a gentleman of great 
 talent, and decidedly the first political economist of the 
 Union, who entered warmly on the defence of Ministers. 
 There is no doubt that Mr. Cambreleng, under the in- 
 fluence of temporary excitement, in some degree, ex- 
 ceeded the legitimate limits of legislative discussion. 
 Mr. Tristram Burgess happened to be an elderly gentle- 
 man, with a hooked nose, a head bald on the summit, 
 but the sides of which displayed hair somewhat blanched 
 by time. In allusion to these personal peculiarities, Mr. 
 Cambreleng certainly said something about the fires of 
 Etna glowing beneath the snows of Caucasus, and, also, 
 rather unpleasantly, compared his opponent to a bald- 
 headed vulture. There can be no doubt of the bad taste 
 of all this; and I know Mr. Crambreleng well enough to 
 entertain the perfect conviction, that had any opportu- 
 nity of subsequent explanation been afforded him, he 
 would have been most ready to disclaim any hasty ex- 
 pression that could be considered personally offensive to 
 his opponent. It appeared, however, that explanation 
 was neither demanded nor expected. The House ad- 
 journed, and nearly three weeks elapsed before the sub- 
 ject again came on for discussion. 
 
 I had no sooner reached Washington than I learned 
 that great expectations were excited by the anticipated 
 reply of Mr. Burgess, who was one of the crack orators 
 of the House. Poor Mr. Cambreleng was evidently re- 
 garded as a doomed man; his fate was sealed; he could 
 have no chance in a war of words with an intellectual 
 giant like Mr. Tristram Burgess! I received congratula-
 
 260 SPEECH OF MR. BURGESS. 
 
 tions on all hands on my good fortune in enjoying, at 
 least, one opportunity of hearing a first rate specimen of 
 American eloquence. In short, the cry was still " he 
 comes;" and when, on the appointed day, he did come, 
 it was bearing such a mass of written papers, as gave 
 promise of a prepared and voluminous speech. 
 
 The promise was not belied. Mr. Burgess's talent 
 for diffusion was of the first order, and the speech was 
 Shandean. Being, however, what is vulgarly called a 
 sloiv coach, he did not get over the ground so rapidly as 
 might have been desired, considering the vast distance he 
 was determined to travel. I know, at least, that he was 
 three days on the road, and the point to which he at last 
 conducted his passengers, appeared to my vision very si- 
 milar to that from which he started. 
 
 Though my curiosity had been a good deal excited, 
 the first three sentences were enough to calm it. Mr. 
 Burgess was evidently a man of some cleverness, with 
 a tolerable command of words, and a good deal of world- 
 ly sagacity. He occasionally made a good hit, and once 
 or twice showed considerable adroitness in parrying at- 
 tack; but he was utterly wanting in taste and imagina- 
 tion; there were no felicities either of thought or ex- 
 pression; nor could I detect a trace of any single quality 
 which could be ranked among the higher gifts of an ora- 
 tor, a three days' speech from such a man was certainly 
 a very serious affair; and though, as a matter of duty, on 
 so great an occasion, I did bring myself to sit out the 
 whole of it, it was done with the resolute determination 
 to endure no second penance of a similar description. 
 
 Were it possible to give any tolerable report of a 
 speech, which, of itself, would fill a volume, I would 
 willingly appeal to it as exemplifying the justice of every 
 blunder, both of taste and judgment, which I have at- 
 tributed to American eloquence. There were scraps 
 of Latin and of Shakspeare; there were words without 
 meaning, and meanings not worth the trouble of imbo- 
 dying in words; there were bad jokes, and bad logic, and 
 arguments without logic of any kind; there were abun- 
 dance of exotic graces, and home-bred vulgarities, of 
 elaborate illustration of acknowledged truths, of vehe- 
 ment invective, and prosy declamation, of conclusions
 
 SPEECH OF MR. BURGESS. 261 
 
 without premises, and premises that led to no conclusion; 
 and yet this very speech was the subject of an eight 
 days' wonder to the whole Union! The amount of praise 
 bestowed on it in the public journals, would have been 
 condemned as hyperbolical if applied to an oration of 
 Demosthenes. Mr. Burgess, at the termination of the 
 session was feted at New York; and Rhode Island exult- 
 ed in the verbal prowess of the most gifted of her sons! 
 
 There can be no doubt, therefore, that the speech of 
 Mr. Burgess was an excellent speech of the kind; and, 
 in order to give the reader some more definite notion of 
 what that kind was, I shall enter on a few details. Be 
 it known, then, that a large portion of the first day's 
 oration related to the personal allusions of Mr. Cambre- 
 leng, who, as the reader is aware, had said something 
 about the snows of Caucasus, and bald-headed vultures. 
 Such an affair in the British Parliament would probably 
 have been settled at the moment by the good feeling of 
 the House. If not, a short and pithy retort was cer- 
 tainly allowable, and good sense would have prevented 
 more. 
 
 But the House of Representatives and Mr. Burgess 
 manage these affairs differently. The orator commenced 
 upon gray hair, and logically drew the conclusion, that, 
 as such discoloration was the natural consequence of 
 advanced years, any disrespectful allusion to the effect, 
 implied contempt for the cause. Now, among every 
 people in the world, Mahometan or Christian, civilized 
 or barbarous, old age was treated with reverence. Even 
 on the authority of Scripture, we are entitled to assert, 
 that the gray head should be regarded as a crown of ho- 
 nour. All men must become old, unless they die young; 
 and every member of this House must reckon on sub- 
 mitting to the common fate of humanity, &c. &c. &c., 
 and so on for about a quarter of an hour. 
 
 Having said all that human ingenuity could devise 
 about gray hair, next came bald heads; and here the ora- 
 tor, with laudable candour, proceeded to admit that bald- 
 ness might, in one sense, be considered a defect. Na- 
 ture had apparently intended that the human cranium 
 should be covered with hair, and there was no denying
 
 262 TALENT OF CONGRESS. 
 
 that the integument was both useful and ornamental. I 
 am not sure whether, at this stage of the argument, Mr. 
 Burgess took advantage of the opportunity of impress- 
 ing the House with a due sense of the virtues of bear's 
 grease and macassar oil. I certainly remember anticipa- 
 ting an episode on nightcaps and Welsh wigs, but, on 
 these, the orator was unaccountably silent. He duly in- 
 formed the House, however, that many of the greatest 
 heroes and philosophers could boast little covering on 
 their upper region. Aristotle was bald, and so was Ju- 
 lius Caesar, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 It was not till the subject of baldness hacl become as 
 stale and flat, as it certainly was unprofitable, that the 
 audience were introduced to the vulture, who was kept 
 so long hovering over the head of Mr. Burgess's oppo- 
 nent, that one only felt anxious that he should make his 
 pounce and have done with it. Altogether, to give the 
 vulture like the devil his due, he was a very quiet 
 bird, and more formidable from the offensive nature of 
 his droppings, than any danger to be apprehended from 
 his beak or claws. In truth, he did seem to be some- 
 what scurvily treated by the orator, who, after keeping 
 him fluttering about the hall for some three hours, at last 
 rather unceremoniously disclaimed all connexion with 
 him, and announced that he Mr. Burgess was "an 
 eagle soaring in his pride of place, and, therefore, not 
 by a moping owl, to be hawked at, and killed!" This 
 was too much for gravity; but, luckily, the day's oration, 
 had reached its termination, and the house broke up in a 
 state of greater exhilaration, than could reasonably have 
 been anticipated from the nature and extent of the in- 
 fliction. 
 
 Having dealt, perhaps, somewhat too largely, in cen- 
 sure, it is only fair that I should now advert to a few 
 items which are entitled to a place on the per contra 
 side of the account. In Congress, there is certainly no 
 deficiency of talent, nor of that homely and practical sa- 
 gacity, which, without approaching the dignity of philo- 
 sophy, is, perhaps, even a safer guide in the administra- 
 tion of a government like that of the United States. 
 American legislators talk nonsensically, but they act
 
 AMERICAN LEGISLATORS. 263 
 
 prudently; and their character is the very reverse of that 
 attributed by Rochester to the second Charles 
 
 " Who never said a foolish thing 1 , 
 And never did a wise one." 
 
 It is not right that these men should be judged exclu- 
 sively by their words; their actions also must be taken 
 into account in forming a fair estimate of their charac- 
 ter, moral and political. Were the condition of society 
 to continue unchanged, they might commit blunders 
 without end, but there would be no danger that the in- 
 terests of the community would suffer from pertinacious 
 adherence to them. In this country, measures are judged 
 less by their speculative tendencies, and more remote 
 consequences, than by their direct and immediate results 
 on the pockets or privileges of the people. In Congress, 
 there is much clearness of vision; but little enlargement 
 of view; considerable perspicacity in discerning effects, 
 but none of that higher faculty which connects them 
 with their causes, and traces the chain of consequences 
 beyond the range of actual experience. In short, it 
 strikes me that American legislators are more remarka- 
 ble for acuteness than foresight; for those qualities of in- 
 tellect which lead men to profit by experience, than 
 those which enable them to direct it. 
 
 I have already said that the speaking in the Senate is 
 very superior to that in the other house; an opinion 
 which I early took up, and subsequently felt no tempta- 
 tion to change. Yet the faults of both bodies differ ra- 
 ther in degree than in character. There is the same 
 loose, desultory, and inconclusive mode of discussion in 
 both; but in the Senate there is less talking for the mere 
 purpose of display, and less of that tawdry emptiness 
 and vehement imbecility which prevail in the Repre- 
 sentatives. Though the members of the Senate be ab- 
 solutely and entirely dependent on the people, they are 
 dependent in a larger sense: dependent not on the petty 
 clubs and coteries of a particular neighbourhood, but on 
 great masses and numbers of men, embracing every in- 
 terest and pursuit, and covering a wide extent of coun- 
 try. Then, from the comparative paucity of their num- 
 bers, there is less jostling and scrambling in debate, more 
 statesman-like argument, and less schoolboy declamatioaj
 
 264 DISCUSSION IN THE SENATE. 
 
 in short, considerably less outcry, and a great deal more 
 wool. 
 
 The Senate contains men who would do honour to any 
 legislative assembly in the world. Those who left the 
 most vivid impression on my memory are Mr. Living- 
 ston, now Secretary of State, and Mr. Webster, whose 
 powers, both as a lawyer and a debater, are without ri- 
 val in the United States. Of these eminent individuals, 
 and others, whose intercourse I enjoyed during my stay 
 in Washington, I shall hereafter have occasion to speak. 
 There were other members of the Senate, however, ta 
 whose speeches I always listened with pleasure. Among 
 these were General Hayne, from South Carolina, who, 
 as Governor of that State, has since put the Union in 
 imminent peril of mutilation, and Mr. Tazewell, of 
 Virginia, a speaker of great logical acuteness, clear, for- 
 cible, and direct in his arguments. General Smith, of 
 Maryland, and Mr. Forsyth, of Georgia, both struck 
 me as being particularly free from the sins that do most 
 easily beset their countrymen. When either of these 
 gentlemen addressed the House, I always felt secure, not 
 only that they had something to say, but that they had 
 something worth saying; an assurance of which they 
 only who have gone through a course of Congressional 
 debates can appreciate the full value. 
 
 But whatever advantages the speeches of the Senate 
 may possess over those of the Representatives, certainly 
 brevity is not of the number. Every subject is over- 
 laid; there is a continual sparring about trifles, and, it 
 struck me, even a stronger display of sectional jealousies 
 than in the other House. This latter quality probably 
 arises from the senators being the representatives of an 
 entire community, with separate laws, interests, and 
 prejudices, and constituting one of the sovereign mem- 
 bers of the confederation. When a member declares 
 his opinions on any question, he is understood to speak 
 the sentiments of a State, and he is naturally jealous of 
 the degree of respect with which so important a revela- 
 tion may be received. Then there are state antipathies, 
 and state affinities, a predisposition to offence in one 
 quarter, and to lend support in another; and there is the 
 odium in longum jaciens between the Northern and
 
 GOVERNMENT PURELY ELECTIVE. 265 
 
 Southern States, shedding its venom in every debate, 
 and influencing the whole tenor of legislation. 
 
 One of the great evils arising, in truth, out of the very 
 nature of the Union, is the sectional spirit apparent in 
 all the proceedings of Congress. A representative from 
 one state by no means considers himself bound to watch 
 over the interests of another; and each being desirous to 
 secure such local objects as may be conducive to the ad- 
 vantage of his own. district, every species of trickery 
 and cabal is put in requisition by which these objects may 
 be obtained. There can be no doubt that the prevalence 
 of such feelings is quite inconsistent with sound and 
 wholesome legislation. Measures are estimated, not by 
 their own merits, and their tendency to benefit the whole 
 Union, but by the degree in which they can be made to 
 subserve particular interests. One portion of the States 
 is banded against another; there is no feeling of com- 
 munity of interests; jealousies deepen into hostilities; 
 the mine is laid, a spark at length falls, and the grand 
 federal Constitution is blown into a thousand fragments. 
 
 Many evils arise from the circumstance of the Govern- 
 ment, both in its executive and legislative branches, be- 
 ing purely elective. The members of the latter, being 
 abjectly dependent on the people, are compelled to adopt 
 both the principles and the policy dictated by their con- 
 stituents. To attempt to stem the torrent of popular 
 passion and clamour, by a policy at once firm and en- 
 lightened, must belong to representatives somewhat more 
 firmly seated than any which are to be found in Congress. 
 Public men, in other countries, may be the parasites of 
 the people, but in America they are necessarily so. In- 
 dependence is impossible. They are slaves, and feel 
 themselves to be so. They must act, speak, and vote, 
 according to the will of their master. Let these men 
 hide their chains as they will, still they encircle their 
 limbs, galling their flesh, and impeding their motions; 
 and it is, perhaps, the worst and most demoralizing re- 
 sult of this detestable system, that every man, ambitious 
 of popular favour, and, in America, who is not so? is 
 compelled to adopt a system of reservation. He keeps 
 a set of exoteric dogmas, which may be changed or mo- 
 dified to suit the taste or fashion of the moment. But 
 
 34
 
 266 DEPENDENCE OF THE LEGISLATURE. 
 
 there are esoteric opinions, very different from any thing 
 to be found in State documents, or speeches in Congress, 
 or fourth of July orations, which imbody the conviction 
 of the man, and which are not to be surrendered up at 
 the bidding of a mob. 
 
 I speak now of minds of the higher order. The ma- 
 jority of Congress are fitted for nothing better than what 
 they are. God meant them to be tools, and they are so. 
 But there are men among them qualified to shine in a 
 higher sphere; who stand prominently out among the 
 meaner spirits by whom they are surrounded, and would 
 be distinguished in any country by vigour, activity, and 
 comprehension of thought. These men must feel, that 
 to devote their great powers to support and illustrate the 
 prejudices of the ignorant and vulgar, is to divert their 
 application from those lofty purposes for which they were 
 intended. It cannot be without a sense of degradation 
 that they are habitually compelled to bear part in the pet- 
 ty squabblings of Congress; to enter keenly into the mi~ 
 serable contests for candles-ends and cheeseparings; to 
 become the cats' paws of sectional cupidity; to dole out 
 prescribed opinions; to dazzle with false glitter, and con- 
 vince with false reasoning; to flatter the ignorant, and 
 truckle to the base; to have no object of ambition but 
 the offices of a powerless executive; to find no field for 
 the exercise of their higher faculties; to know they are 
 distrusted, and, judging from the men with whom they 
 mingle, to feel they ought to be so. 
 
 It is to be wished that the writings of Burke were bet- 
 ter known and appreciated in America. Of all mo- 
 dern statesmen, Burke brought to the practical duties of 
 legislation the most gifted and philosophical mind. In 
 an age prolific in great men, he stood confessedly the 
 greatest; and while the efforts and the eloquence of his 
 contemporaries were directed to overcome mere tempora- 
 ry emergencies, Burke contemplated the nobler achieve- 
 ment of vindicating unanswerably the true principles of 
 enlightened government, and bequeathing to posterity 
 the knowledge by which future errors might be avoided, 
 and future difficulties overcome. 
 
 It is this loftiness of purpose which constitutes the 
 leading distinction of Burke, when compared with con^
 
 BURKE. 267 
 
 temporary or succeeding statesmen. They spoke for 
 the present; he for all limes, present and future. Their 
 wisdom was directed to meet the immediate perils and 
 exigencies of the state; his to establish great and memo- 
 rable principles, by which all perils and all difficulties 
 might be successfully encountered. The consequence 
 has been, that while their words have passed away, his 
 endure, and exert a permanent and increasing influence 
 on the intellect of mankind. Who now resorts for les- 
 sons in political wisdom to the speeches of North, or 
 Chatham, or Pitt, or Fox? but where is the statesman 
 who would venture to profess himself unread in those 
 of Burke? 
 
 That the opinions of this great political philosopher 
 were sometimes erroneous may be admitted, yet it may 
 truly be said that they Were never founded on mere nar- 
 row views of temporary expediency, and that his errors 
 were uniformly those of a grand and glorious intellect, 
 scarcely less splendid in failure than in triumph. 
 
 The nature of the connexion which ought to exist be- 
 tween the representative and his constituents, and the 
 duties it imposes, are finely illustrated in the final ad- 
 dress of Burke to the electors of Bristol. It were well 
 if the people, both of England and America, would 
 read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the following no- 
 ble passages, not more remarkable for their wisdom and 
 eloquence, than for their tone of dignified independence, 
 
 "It is the duty of the representative, 7 ' says this me- 
 morable man, "to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his 
 satisfactions, to his constituents. But his unbiassed 
 opinion, his mature judgment, his enlightened con- 
 science, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, 
 or any set of men living. They are a trust from 
 Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply an- 
 swerable. Your representative owes you, not his in- 
 dustry only, but his judgment, and HE BETRAYS IN- 
 STEAD OF SERVING YOU if he sacrifice it to your opi<- 
 nion." 
 
 Again. 
 
 "If government were a matter of will upon any side 
 yours, without question, ought to be superior. But go- 
 vernment and legislation are matters of reason and judg*
 
 268 ELECTION OF PRESIDENT. 
 
 ment, not of inclination. And what sort of reason is 
 that, in which the. determination precedes the discus- 
 sion; in which one set of men deliberate and another 
 decide; and where those who form the conclusion are 
 perhaps three hundred miles distant from those who 
 hear the arguments?" 
 
 Once more. 
 
 "Authoritative instructions, mandates, which the 
 member is bound blindly and implicitly to obey; these 
 are things unknown to the laws of this land, and 
 ivhich arise from A FUNDAMENTAL MISTAKE OF THE WHOLE 
 ORDER AND TENOR OF OUR CONSTITUTION. Parliament is 
 not a Congress of Ambassadors from different states, 
 and with hostile interests, which interests each must 
 maintain as an agent against other agents; but Par- 
 liament is a deliberate assembly of ONE nation, with 
 ONE interest, and that of the whole. You choose a 
 member, indeed; but when you have chosen him, he ia 
 not a member for Bristol, but he is a member of Par- 
 liament. 7 ' 
 
 There is another evil connected with the practical 
 working of the constitution, to which I feel it necessary 
 briefly to advert. The election of the President affects 
 so many interests and partialities, and appeals so strongly 
 to the passions of the people, that it is uniformly attend- 
 ed with a very injurious disturbance of the public tran- 
 quillity. The session of Congress immediately preceding 
 the election, is chiefly occupied by the manoeuvres of 
 both parties to gain some advantage for their favourite 
 candidate. The quantity of invective expended on men 
 and measures is enormously increased. The ordinary 
 business of the country is neglected. Motions are made, 
 and inquiries gone into, in the mere hope that something 
 may be discovered which party zeal may convert into a 
 weapon of attack or defence. In short, the legislature of 
 a great nation is resolved into electioneering committees 
 of rival candidates for the Presidency. 
 
 Without doors, the contest is no less keen. From one 
 extremity of the Union to the other, the political war 
 slogan is sounded. No quarter is given on either side. 
 Every printing-press in the United States is engaged in 
 the conflict. Reason, justice, charity, the claims of age
 
 GOVERNOR CLINTON'S MESSAGE. 269 
 
 and of past services, of high talents and unspotted in- 
 tegrity, are forgotten. No lie is too malignant to be em- 
 ployed in this unhallowed contest, if it can but serve the 
 purpose of deluding, even for a moment, the most igno- 
 rant of mankind. No insinuation is too base, no equivo- 
 cation too mean, no artifice too paltry. The world af- 
 fords no parallel to the scene of political depravity exhi- 
 bited periodically in this free country. 
 
 In England I know it will be believed that this picture 
 is overcharged, that it is utterly impossible that any Chris- 
 tian community can be disgraced by scenes of such ap- 
 palling atrocity. It may be supposed, too, that in getting 
 up materials for the charge, I have been compelled to go 
 back to the earlier period of the constitution, to the days 
 of Adams and Jefferson, when the struggle of men was 
 the struggle of great principles, and the people were yet 
 young and unpractised in the enjoyment of that liberty 
 which they had so bravely earned. 
 
 Of either hypothesis, 1 regret to say that it is more 
 charitable than true. 1 speak not of the United States 
 as they were, but as they are. Let the moral character 
 of the past generation of Americans rest with them undis- 
 turbed in their graves. Our business at present is with 
 living men, and it is these who are now charged, not by 
 me, but by roriters of their own age and country, with the of- 
 fences I have ventured to describe. 
 
 " Party spirit" says the late Governor Clinton, in his 
 annual message to the legislature in 1828, quoted by Cap- 
 tain Hall, " has entered the recesses of retirement, violated the 
 sanctity of female character, invaded the tranquillity of pri- 
 vate life, and visited, with severe inflictions, the peace of fa- 
 milies. Neither elevation nor humility has been spared, nor 
 the charities of life, nor distinguished public services, nor the 
 Jireside, nor the altar, been left free from attack; but a licen- 
 tious and destroying spirit has gone forth, regardless of every 
 thing, but the gratification of malignant feelings, and un- 
 worthy aspirations. The causes of this portentous mischief 
 must be found, in a great measure, in the incompetent 
 and injudicious provisions, relative to the office of chief 
 magistrate of the Union." 
 
 In the American Annual Register, published at New 
 York, for the years 1828 and 1829, a work of great me-
 
 270 AMERICAN ANNUAL REGISTER. 
 
 rit and impartiality, the editor, in narrating the circum- 
 stances of the last Presidential election, thus writes : 
 
 " Topics were introduced tending still more to inflame 
 the public mind, and to prevent it from forming an unbi- 
 assed judgment upon continuing the existing policy of the 
 country. In the excited state of popular feeling, the cha- 
 racter and services of both candidates were overlooked ; 
 and even Congress, in more instances than one, by a party 
 vote, manifested that it had forgotten that some respect 
 was due to the high and honourable station held by one 
 of the candidates. 
 
 " The example Ihus given by men from whose charac- 
 ter and station better things might have been expected, 
 was not without its effect upon the community. In con- 
 ducting the political discussions which folloiced the adjourn- 
 ment of Congress, both truth and propriety were set at 
 defiance. The decencies of private life were disregarded; 
 conversations and correspondence 'which should have been 
 confidential were brought before the public eye ; the ruthless 
 warfare was carried into the bosom of domestic life; neither 
 age nor sex was spared; the dnily press teemed with ribaldry 
 and falsehood ; and even the tomb was not held sacred from 
 'the rancorous hostility which distinguished the presidential 
 election of 1828." 
 
 1 shall certainly not endeavour, by any observations 
 of my own, to heighten the sentiment of disgust which 
 such extraordinary revelations are calculated to excite. 
 If I know my own motives, I allude to them at all, not 
 with the contemptible and unworthy object of lowering 
 the character of the American people in the eyes of my 
 countrymen ; not to afford a paltry triumph to those in 
 whose eyes freedom is a crime, and despotism a virtue ; 
 but because it is due to truth and justice, and nearly 
 concerns the political welfare of other nations, that the 
 practical results of the Constitution of the United States 
 should be known. 
 
 In all previous experience, an elective chief magistracy 
 it matters not whether the object of contention be the 
 throne of a King, or the chair of a President has been 
 found incompatible with the peace and welfare of a com- 
 munity. The object is too high and spirit-stirring; it 
 appeals too strongly to the hopes and passions of men; it
 
 EVILS OF AN ELECTIVE CHIEF MAGISTRACY. 271 
 
 affects too many interests, not to lead to the employment 
 of every available instrument for its attainment. In 
 some circumstances the contest is decided by physical 
 force ; in others, by falsehood, calumny, and those arti- 
 fices by which cunning can impose upon ignorance. 
 Blood flows in the one case, and the land is desolated by 
 civil war ; character, moral dignity, and the holiest 
 charities of life, are sacrificed in the other. 
 
 One thing is certain. In the United States the ex- 
 periment of an elective executive has been tried under 
 the most favourable circumstances. The population is 
 diffused over a vast extent of surface, and, therefore, less 
 subject to be influenced by those delusions and impulses 
 by which masses of men are liable to be misled. There 
 exists in America no great and absorbing question of 
 principle or policy, by which the feelings or the pre- 
 judices of men are violently excited. On the contrary, 
 the general character of public measures has long ceased 
 to furnish any broad or distinct grounds of dispute; and 
 the contest, however vehement, has been that of rival 
 politicians, rather than of contending principles. More- 
 over, in the United States, a class of men condemned by 
 uncontrollable causes to the sufferings of abject poverty, 
 is unknown. The means of subsistence are profusely 
 spread every where, and the temptations to crime com- 
 paratively small. Let it be remembered, therefore, that 
 it is under such circumstances, and among a people so 
 situated, that the experiment of periodically electing the 
 chief officer of the commonwealth has been tried and 
 failed. 
 
 It is true, indeed, that while confessing the grossness 
 of the failure, many Americans would willingly attribute 
 it to the injudicious provisions for the collection of the 
 national suffrage. But the evil lies deeper. However 
 the electoral body may be formed, an abundant field 
 must always be left for the exercise of trickery and in- 
 trigue. The passions and prejudices of men must always 
 be too deeply interested in the distribution of this high 
 patronage for the continuance of public tranquillity, 
 blander, calumny, and the thousands atrocities which 
 have hitherto disgraced the presidential elections, will 
 continue to burst their floodgates, and spread contamina*
 
 272 SUPREME COURT. 
 
 tion through the land; and should a period of strong 
 political excitement arrive, when men shall be arrayed, 
 not in demonstration of mere personal partialities, but in 
 support of conflicting principles connected with their im- 
 mediate interests, I confess, that I, at least, can find no- 
 thing in the American Constitution, on which to rest a 
 hope for its permanence. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 IN the basement story of one of the wings of the Ca- 
 pitol, is the hall of the Supreme Court of the United 
 States. It is, by no means, a large or handsome apart- 
 ment; and the lowness of the ceiling, and the circum- 
 stance of its being under ground, give it a certain cellar- 
 like aspect, which is not pleasant. This is, perhaps, un- 
 fortunate, because it tends to create in the spectator, the 
 impression of justice being done in a corner; and, that, 
 while the business of legislation is carried on with all 
 the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious debate, 
 in halls adorned with all the skill of the architect, the 
 administration of men's rights is considered an affair of 
 secondary importance. 
 
 Though the American law courts are no longer conta- 
 minated by wigs, yet the partiality for robes would ap- 
 pear not yet to be wholly extinct. The judges of the 
 Supreme Court wear black Geneva gowns; and the pro- 
 ceedings of this tribunal are conducted with a degree of 
 propriety, both judicial and forensic, which leaves no- 
 thing to be desired. I certainly witnessed none of those 
 violations of public decency, which, in the State Courts, 
 are matters of ordinary occurrence. There was no 
 lounging either at the bar or on the bench; nor was it, 
 apparently, considered necessary to sink the gentleman 
 in the lawyer, and assume a deportment in the discharge 
 of professional duty which would not be tolerated in pri- 
 vate society.
 
 JURISDICTION OF SUPREME COURT. 273 
 
 The Supreme Court consists of seven judges, remova- 
 ble only by impeachment, and possesses a federal juris- 
 diction over the whole Union. It sits annually in Wash- 
 ington for about two months, and is alone competent to 
 decide on questions connected with the constitution or 
 laws of the United States. Though possessing original 
 jurisdiction in a few cases, its chief duties consist in the 
 exercise of an appellate jurisdiction from the Circuit 
 Courts, which are held twice a year in the different 
 states. 
 
 It would be tedious to enumerate the various cases in 
 which the Federal Courts, in their three gradations of 
 Supreme, Circuit, and District, exercise an exclusive or 
 concurrent jurisdiction. It is enough that it should be 
 generally understood that the Supreme Court is the sole 
 expounder of the written constitution; and when we con- 
 sider how open this important instrument has been 
 proved to diversity of interpretation, what opposite 
 meanings have been put upon its simplest clauses, and, 
 in short, that the Constitution is precisely whatever four 
 judges of this court may choose to make it, it will be 
 seen how vitally important is the power with which it 
 has been intrusted, and how difficult must be its exer- 
 cise. 
 
 But the difficulties of the Supreme Court do not end 
 here. Its jurisdiction extends not over a homogeneous 
 population, but a variety of distinct communities, born 
 under different laws, and adopting different forms in their 
 administration. 
 
 Causes before the State Courts, in which the laws of 
 the United States are even collaterally involved, are re- 
 movable by writ of error to the Supreme Federal Court, 
 and the decision of the State Court may be affirmed or 
 reversed. In the latter case, a mandate is issued direct- 
 ing the State Court to conform its judgment to that of 
 the Supreme Court. But the State tribunal is at perfect 
 liberty to disregard the mandate, should it think proper; 
 for the principle is established, that no one court can 
 command another, but in virtue of an authority resting 
 on express stipulation, and it is the duty of each judica- 
 ture to decide how far this authority has been constitu- 
 tionally exercised. 
 
 35
 
 274 LAWYERS OF SUPREME COURT. 
 
 Then the legislatures of different States have found it 
 occasionally convenient to pass laws for the purpose of 
 defrauding their foreign creditors, while, in the case of 
 Great Britain at least, the federal government is bound 
 by express treaty that no lawful impediment shall be in- 
 terposed to the recovery of the debts due by American 
 citizens to British subjects. Under such circumstances, 
 the Federal Court, backed by the whole honest portion 
 of the people, certainly succeeded in putting a stop to 
 the organized system of State swindling adopted by Ken- 
 tucky after the late war; but awkward circumstances oc- 
 curred, and the question may yet be considered practi- 
 cally undecided, whether the State legislatures possess a 
 controlling power over the execution of a judgment of 
 the Supreme Court. 
 
 Should a case occur, as is far from improbable, in 
 which the federal legislature and judiciary are at variance, 
 it would, no doubt, be the duty of the latter to declare 
 every unconstitutional act of the former null and void. 
 But under any circumstances, the Court has no power 
 of enforcing its decrees. For instance, let us take the 
 Indian question, and suppose, that in defiance of treaties, 
 Georgia should persist in declaring the Creek and Che- 
 rokee Indians subject to the State laws, in order to force 
 them to migrate beyond the Mississippi. The Indians 
 appeal to the Supreme Court, and demand protection 
 from unprincipled violence. The Court recognises their 
 rights, and issues its mandate, which is just so much 
 waste paper, unless the Government choose to send a 
 military force along with it, which neither the present 
 Congress nor executive would be inclined to do. 
 
 With all its sources of weakness, however, the United 
 States Court is a wise institution. It is truly the sheet- 
 anchor of the Union; and the degree of respect in which 
 its decrees are held, may be considered as an exact index 
 of the moral strength of the compact by which the dis- 
 cordant elements of the federal commonwealth are held 
 together. 
 
 The most distinguished lawyers of the Union practise 
 in the Supreme Court, and I had there an opportunity 
 of hearing many of the more eminent members of Con- 
 gress. During my stay, there was no Jury trial, and the
 
 VISIT TO THE PRESIDENT. 375 
 
 proceedings of the Court consisted chiefly in delivering 
 judgments, and in listening to legal arguments from the 
 bar. The tone of the speeches was certainly very dif- 
 ferent from any thing I had heard in Congress. The 
 lawyers seemed to keep their declamation for the House 
 of Representatives, and in the Supreme Court spoke 
 clearly, logically, and to the point. Indeed, I was more 
 than once astonished to hear men whose speeches in 
 Congress were rambling and desultory, in an extreme 
 degree, display in their forensic addresses, great legal 
 acuteness, and resources of argument and illustration of 
 the first order. In addressing the bench, they seemed 
 to cast the slough of their vicious peculiarities, and spoke, 
 not like schoolboys contending for a prize, but like men 
 of high intellectual powers, solicitous not to dazzle but 
 to convince. 
 
 A few days after the interview already mentioned, I 
 received the honour of an invitation to dine with the Pre- 
 sident. It unfortunately happened, that, on the day in- 
 dicated, I was already engaged to a party at Mr. Van. 
 Buren's; and on inquiring the etiquette on such occasions, 
 I was informed that an invitation from the President was 
 not held to authorize any breach of engagement to the 
 leading member of the cabinet. The President, how- 
 ever, having politely intimated that he received company 
 every evening, I ventured, along with a distinguished 
 member of the House of Representatives, to present my- 
 self, on one occasion, at the " White House."* 
 
 We found the President had retired with a headach, 
 hut in a few minutes he appeared, though from the hea- 
 viness of his eye, evidently in a state of considerable 
 pain. This, however, had no influence on his conversa- 
 tion, which was spirited, and full of vivacity. He in- 
 formed us that he had been unwell for several days, and 
 having the fatigues of a levee to encounter on the follow- 
 ing evening, he had retired early, in order to recruit for 
 an occasion which required the presence of all his bodily 
 powers. When this subject was dismissed, the conver- 
 sation turned on native politics, the Indian question, the 
 powers of the Supreme Court, and a recent debate in the 
 Senate, which had excited considerable attention. 
 
 * The President's house is very generally so designated in Wash- 
 ington.
 
 276 PRESIDENT'S LEVEE. 
 
 Of the opinions expressed by this distinguished per- 
 son, it would be unpardonable were I to say any thing; 
 but I heard them with deep interest, and certainly con- 
 sidered them to be marked by that union of boldness and 
 sagacity, which is generally supposed to form a promi- 
 nent feature of his character. General Jackson spoke 
 like a man so thoroughly convinced of the justice of his 
 views, that he announced them unhesitatingly and with- 
 out reserve. This openness might be increased, perhaps, 
 by the knowledge of my companion being a decided sup- 
 porter of his government; but sincerity is so legible both 
 in his countenance and manner, that I feel convinced that 
 nothing but the strongest motives of state policy could 
 make him hesitate, under any circumstances, to express 
 boldly what he felt strongly. 
 
 On the following evening I attended the levee. The 
 apartments were already full before I arrived, and the 
 crowd extended even into the hall. Three I am not 
 sure that there were not four large saloons were thrown 
 open on the occasion, and were literally crammed with 
 the most singular and miscellaneous assemblage I had 
 ever seen. 
 
 The numerical majority of the company seemed of the 
 class of tradesmen or farmers, respectable men, fresh from 
 the plough or the counter, who, accompanied by their 
 wives and daughters, came forth to greet their President, 
 and enjoy the splendours of the gala. There were also 
 generals, and commodores, and public officers of every 
 description, and foreign ministers and members of Con- 
 gress, and ladies of all ages and degrees of beauty, from 
 the fair and laughing girl of fifteen, to the haggard dow- 
 ager of seventy. There were majors in broad cloth and 
 corduroys, redolent of gin and tobacco, and majors' la- 
 dies in chintz or russet, with huge Paris ear-rings, and 
 tawny necks, profusely decorated with beads of coloured 
 glass. There were tailors from the board, and judges 
 from the bench; lawyers who opened their mouths at one 
 bar, and the tapster who closed them at another; in 
 short, every trade, craft, calling, and profession, ap- 
 peared to have sent its delegates to this extraordinary 
 convention. 
 
 For myself, I had seen too much of the United States 
 to expect any thing very different, and certainly antici-
 
 PRESIDENT'S LEVEE. 277 
 
 pated that the mixture would contain all the ingredients 
 I have ventured to describe. Yet, after all, I was taken 
 by surprise. There were present at this levee, men be- 
 grimed with all the sweat and filth accumulated in their 
 day's perhaps their week's labour. There were sooty 
 artificers, evidently fresh from the forge or the work- 
 shop; and one individual, I remember either a miller 
 or a baker who, wherever he passed, left marks of con- 
 tact on the garments of the company. The most promi- 
 nent group, however, in the assemblage, was a party of 
 Irish labourers, employed on some neighbouring canal, 
 who had evidently been apt scholars in the doctrine of 
 liberty and equality, and were determined, on the present 
 occasion, to assert the full privileges of "the great un- 
 washed." I remarked these men pushing aside the more 
 respectable portion of the company with a certain jocu- 
 lar audacity, which put one in mind of the humours of 
 Donnybrook. 
 
 A party, composed of the materials I have described, 
 could possess but few attractions. The heat of the apart- 
 ment was very great, and the odours certainly not Sa- 
 baean which occasionally affected the nostrils, were more 
 pungent than agreeable. I, therefore, pushed on in 
 search of the President, in order that, having paid my 
 respects in acknowledgment of a kindness for which I 
 really felt grateful, I might be at liberty to depart. My 
 progress, however, was slow, for the company in the ex- 
 terior saloons were wedged together in a dense mass, pe- 
 netrable only at occasional intervals. I looked every 
 where for the President as I passed, but without success, 
 but, at length, a friend, against whom I happened to be 
 jostled, informed me that I should find him at the extre- 
 mity of the most distant apartment. 
 
 The information was correct. There stood the Presi- 
 dent, whose looks still indicated indisposition, paying 
 one of the severest penalties of greatness; compelled to 
 talk when he had nothing to say, and shake hands with 
 men whose very appearance suggested the precaution of 
 a glove. I must say, however, that under these unplea- 
 sant circumstances, he bore himself well and gracefully. 
 His countenance expressed perfect good-humour; and his 
 manner to the ladies was so full of well-bred gallantry,
 
 278 OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 that having, as I make no doubt, the great majority of 
 the fair sex on his side, the chance of his being unseated 
 at the next election must be very small. 
 
 I did not, however, remain long a spectator of the scene. 
 Having gone through the ordinary ceremonial, I scram- 
 bled out of the crowd the best way I could, and bade fare- 
 well to the most extraordinary scene it had ever been my 
 fortune to witness. It is only fair to state, however that 
 during my stay in Washington, I never heard the Pre- 
 sident's levee mentioned in company without an ex- 
 pression of indignant feeling on the part of the ladies, at 
 the circumstances I have narrated. To the better order 
 of Americans, indeed, it cannot but be painful that their 
 wives and daughters should thus be compelled to mingle 
 with the very lowest of the people. Yet the evil, what- 
 ever may be its extent, is, in truth, the necessary result 
 of a form of government essentially democratic. Where- 
 ever universal suffrage prevails, the people are, and must 
 be, the sole depository of political power. The Ameri- 
 can President well knows that his only chance of conti- 
 nuance in office, consists in his conciliating the favour of 
 the lowest and, therefore, most numerous order of his 
 constituents. The rich and intelligent are a small mi- 
 nority, and their opinion he may despise. The poor, 
 the uneducated, are, in every country, the people. It is 
 to them alone that a public man in America can look for 
 the gratification of his ambition. They are the ladder 
 by which he must mount, or be content to stand on a 
 level with his fellow-men. 
 
 Under such circumstances, it is impossible there should 
 be any exclusion of the real governors of the country 
 wherever they may think proper to intrude. General 
 Jackson is quite aware, that the smallest demonstration 
 of disrespect even to the meanest mechanic, might incur 
 the loss of his popularity in a whole neighbourhood. It 
 is evident, too, that the class in actual possession of the 
 political patronage of a community is, in effect, whatever 
 be their designation, the first class in the state. In 
 America, this influence belongs to the poorest and least 
 educated. Wealth and intelligence are compelled to bend 
 to poverty and ignorance, to adopt their prejudices, to 
 copy their manners, to submit to their government. In
 
 SLAVERY IN WASHINGTON. 279 
 
 short, the order of reason and common sense is precisely 
 inverted; and while the roots of the political tree are 
 waving in the air, its branches are buried in the ground. 
 
 During the time I was engaged at the levee, my ser- 
 vant remained in the hall through which lay the entrance 
 to the apartments occupied by the company, and on the 
 day following he gave me a few details of a scene some- 
 what extraordinary, but sufficiently characteristic to me- 
 rit record. It appeared that the refreshments intended 
 for the company, consisting of punch and lemonade, 
 were brought by the servants, with the intention of reach- 
 ing the interior saloon. No sooner, however, were these 
 ministers of Bacchus descried to be approaching by a 
 portion of the company, than a rush was made from 
 within, the whole contents of the trays were seized in 
 transitu, by a sort of coup-de-main; and the bearers 
 having thus rapidly achieved the distribution of their re- 
 freshments, had nothing for it but to return for a fresh 
 supply. This was brought, and quite as compendiously 
 despatched, and it at length became apparent, that, with- 
 out resorting to some extraordinary measures, it would 
 be impossible to accomplish the intended voyage, and 
 the more respectable portion of the company would be 
 suffered to depart with dry palates, and in utter igno- 
 rance of the extent of the hospitality to which they were 
 indebted. 
 
 The butler, however, was an Irishman, and, in order 
 to baffle farther attempts at intercepting the supplies, had 
 recourse to an expedient marked by all the ingenuity of 
 his countrymen. He procured an escort, armed them 
 with sticks, and, on his next advance, these men kept 
 flourishing their shillelahs around the trays, with such 
 alarming vehemence, that the predatory horde, who an- 
 ticipated a repetition of their plunder, were scared from 
 their prey, and, amid a scene of execrations and laughter, 
 the refreshments thus guarded, accomplished their jour- 
 ney to the saloon in safety! 
 
 Washington, the seat of government of a free people, 
 is disgraced by slavery. The waiters in the hotels, the 
 servants in private families, and many of the lower class 
 of artisans, are slaves. While the orators in Congress 
 are rounding periods about liberty in one part of the city,
 
 280 AMERICAN INCONSISTENCY. 
 
 proclaiming, alto voce, that all men are equal, and that 
 "resistance to tyrants is obedience to God," the auc- 
 tioneer is exposing human flesh to sale in another! I 
 remember a gifted gentleman in the Representatives, 
 who, in speaking of the Senate, pronounced it to be " the 
 most enlightened; the most august, and most imposing 
 body in the world!" In regard to the extent of imposi- 
 tion, I shall not speak; but it so happened that the day 
 was one of rain, and the effect of the eulogium was a 
 good deal injured by recollecting that, an hour or two 
 before, the members of this enlightened and august body 
 were driven to the Capitol by slave coachmen, who 
 were at that very moment waiting to convey them back, 
 when the rights of man had been sufficiently disserted 
 on for the day. 
 
 I trust I do not write on this painful subject in an in- 
 sulting spirit. That slavery should exist in the United 
 States is far less the fault than the misfortune of the peo- 
 ple. The present generation were born with the curse 
 upon them; they are the involuntary inheritors of a 
 patrimony of guilt and misery, and are condemned to 
 pay the penalty of that original sin, which has left a deep 
 tarnish on the memory of our common ancestors. But, 
 that slavery should exist in the district of Columbia, that 
 even the foot-print of a slave should be suffered to con- 
 taminate the soil peculiarly consecrated to Freedom, that 
 the very shrine of the Goddess should be polluted by the 
 presence of chains and fetters, is perhaps the most extra- 
 ordinary and monstrous anomaly to which human incon- 
 sistency a prolific mother has given birth. 
 
 The man who would study the contradictions of in- 
 dividual and national character, and learn by how wide 
 an interval, profession may be divided from performance, 
 should come to Washington. He will there read a new 
 page in the volume of human nature; he will observe 
 how compatible is the extreme of physical liberty, with 
 bondage of the understanding. He will hear the words 
 of freedom, and he will see the practice of slavery. Men 
 who sell their fellow-creatures will discourse to him of 
 indefeasible rights; the legislators, who truckle to a mob, 
 will stun him with professions of independence; he will 
 be taught the affinity between the democrat and the ty-
 
 PORTRAITS OF INDIAN CHIEFS. 281 
 
 rant ; he will look for charters, and find manacles ; expect 
 liberality, and be met by bigotry and prejudice ; in short, 
 he will probably return home a wiser, if not a better man, 
 more patient of inevitable evils, more grateful for the 
 blessing he enjoys, better satisfied with his own country 
 and government, and less disposed to sacrifice the present 
 good for a contingent better. 
 
 In Washington, there is little to be done in the way of 
 sight-seeing. There is a theatre, which I was too much 
 occupied to visit. The churches have nothing about 
 them to attract observation. The patent office contains 
 models of all the mechanical inventions of this ingenious 
 people, and their number is more remarkable than their 
 value. In a thinly peopled country, men are thrown 
 upon their individual resources. Where labour cannot be 
 commanded, it is natural they should endeavour to strike 
 out contrivances by which it may be economized. The 
 misfortune is, that each man, being ignorant of what has 
 been effected by others, finds it necessary to begin de novo. 
 He invents, takes out a patent, and then probably disco- 
 vers that the same thing had been better done before. 
 
 In the Secretary of State's office, is an apartment con- 
 taining portraits of all the Indian chiefs who have visited 
 Washington. The portraits are ill executed, but full of 
 character ; and the collection is interesting, as exhibiting 
 the last and only memorial of men, great in their genera- 
 tion, but without poet or historian to perpetuate the me- 
 mory of their greatness. Many of the countenances are 
 full of noble expression, and bear the impress of a wild 
 but tranquil grandeur. Others are of dark, savage, and 
 ferocious aspect, with an eye full of cunning, and a stern 
 inflexibility of muscle, which seems to say, " 1 slay, and 
 spare not." A few are expressive of mildness and bene- 
 volence ; and when I remembered the melancholy histo- 
 ry of this fated race, and the hopeless contest they are 
 compelled to wage with civilized rapacity, I felt it im- 
 possible to gaze on these records of their lineaments with- 
 out pain. 
 
 My visit to Washington brought with it the advantage 
 of forming acquaintance with many distinguished indivi- 
 duals, of some of whom I would now willingly be permit- 
 ted to record my impressions. First in rank is Mr. Cal 
 
 36
 
 282 MR. CALHOUN. 
 
 houn, the Vice President of the United States. This gen- 
 tleman was formerly a candidate for the Presidency, but 
 resigned his pretensions in favour of General Jackson. 
 Subsequent differences, however, with that eminent per- 
 son, have produced a separation of their interests, and it 
 is not generally supposed that he has much chance of 
 succeeding at the next election. Mr. Calhoun is about 
 the middle height, spare, and somewhat slouching in per- 
 son. His countenance, though not handsome, is expres- 
 sive, and enlivened by a certain vivacity of eye which 
 might redeem plainer features. His head is large, and 
 somewhat disfigured by a quantity of stiff bristly hair, 
 which rises very high above his forehead. In conversa- 
 tion, he is pleasant, and remarkably free from that dog- 
 matism which constitutes not the least of the social sins of 
 Americans. Mr. Calhoun evidently disregards all graces 
 of expression, and, whatever be the subject of discussion, 
 comes directly to the point. His manner and mode of 
 speaking indicate rapidity of thought, and it struck me, 
 that, with full confidence in his own high talents, Mr. 
 Calhoun would probably find it more agreeable to carry 
 truth by a coup-de-main, than to await the slower process 
 of patient induction. It is evident, indeed, at the first 
 glance, that the Vice President is no ordinary person. 
 His mind is bold and acute ; his talent for business con- 
 fessedly of the first order ; and, enjoying the esteem of his 
 countrymen, there can be little doubt that he is yet des- 
 tined to play a conspicuous part in the politics of the 
 Union. 
 
 Mr. Edward Livingston, then Senator for Louisiana, 
 shortly after my departure from Washington, became 
 Secretary of Stale. Bred to the New York bar, he early 
 took his station in the very first line of his profession. As 
 a philosophical lawyer, he stands not only unrivalled, hut 
 unapproached. His experience in public life has been 
 very great ; and his high talents, extensive knowledge, 
 and amiable character, have deservedly acquired for him 
 the admiration and esteem of a people not prompt in the 
 payment of such* tribute. 
 
 Mr. Livingston's fame, however, is not American, but 
 European. The criminal code which he has framed for 
 Louisiana, is confessedly a magnificent specimen of phi-
 
 MR. LIVINGSTON. 283 
 
 losophical legislation, and places the reputation of its au- 
 thor on a secure and permanent foundation. From this 
 code the punishment of death is excluded, and Mr. Li- 
 vingston is a warm advocate for its removal from the sta- 
 tute books of the other States. 
 
 The labours of Mr. Livingston in the compilation of 
 his code were, for many years, unwearied and assiduous. 
 Men of more limited knowledge, and inferior powers, 
 would have been unfit for such a task. Men of less en- 
 thusiasm would have shrunk from it in dismay. Mr. Li- 
 vingston, fortunately for himself and his country, braved 
 all difficulties, devoted to it the whole energies of his 
 mind, and brought it to a happy completion. 
 
 Animated by the zeal of a philanthropist, he made him- 
 self acquainted with the laws of all nations, and the con- 
 tents of every treatise on crime and punishment which 
 could be discovered in Europe. He maintained an ex- 
 tensive correspondence with the most eminent political 
 philosophers of the age, and among others, with Bentham, 
 by whose enlightened advice he professes to have largely 
 profited. 
 
 One incident in the life of Mr. Livingston is worthy of 
 record, as affording a fine illustration of the character of 
 the man. His labours connected with the code were 
 already far advanced, when -his whole papers were de- 
 stroyed by fire. This happened at ten o'clock at night, 
 and at seven on the following morning, with unbroken 
 spirit, he began his task afresh! Few men are endowed 
 with such buoyancy of spirit, or such indomitable perse- 
 verance. 
 
 In person, Mr. Livingston is rather above the middle 
 height. His countenance, though without elegance of 
 feature, is peculiarly pleasing, from the benevolence of 
 its expression, and a certain enthusiasm, unusual at his 
 years, which lights up his eye when he discourses on any 
 interesting subject. His manners are those of a finished 
 gentleman, yet rather, I should imagine, the spontaneous 
 result of an innate and natural delicacy of thought and 
 feeling, than of intercourse with polished society. To 
 the courtesy and kindness of this eminent individual I 
 feel deeply indebted. It is with pleasure that I now give 
 public expression to those sentiments of admiration and
 
 284 MR - WEBSTER. 
 
 respect, which I shall ever entertain for his character 
 and talents. 
 
 The person, however, who has succeeded in rivetting 
 most strongly the attention of the whole Union, is un- 
 doubtedly Mr. Wehster. From the Gulf of St. Lawrence 
 to that of Mexico, from Cape Sable to Lake Superior, 
 his name has become, as it were, a household word. 
 Many disapprove his politics, but none deny his great 
 talents, his unrivalled fertility of argument, or his power, 
 even still more remarkable, of rapid and comprehensive 
 induction. In short, it is universally believed by his 
 countrymen, that Mr. Webster is a great man ; and in 
 this matter I certainly make no pretension to singularity 
 of creed. Mr. Webster is a man of whom any country 
 might well be proud. His knowledge is at once exten- 
 sive and minute, his intellectual resources very great ; 
 and, whatever may be the subject of discussion, he is sure 
 to shed on it the light of an active, acute, and powerful 
 mind. 
 
 I confess, however, I did meet Mr. Webster under the 
 influence of some prejudice. From the very day of my 
 arrival in the United States, I had been made involun- 
 tarily familiar with his name and pretensions. Gentle- 
 men sent me his speeches to read. When I talked of 
 visiting Boston, the observation uniformly followed, " Ah! 
 there you will see Mr. Webster." When I reached Bos- 
 ton, I encountered condolence on all hands. " You are 
 very unfortunate," said my friends, " Mr. Webster set 
 out yesterday for Washington." Whenever, at Phila- 
 delphia and Baltimore, it became known that I had vi- 
 sited Boston, the question, " Did you see Mr. Webster t" 
 was a sequence as constant and unvarying as that of the 
 seasons. 
 
 The result of all this was, that the name of Webster 
 became invested in my ear with an adventitious caco- 
 phony. It is not pleasant to admire upon compulsion, 
 and the very pre-eminence of this gentleman had been 
 converted into something of a bore. To Washington, 
 however, I came, armed with letters to the unconscious 
 source of my annoyance. The first night of my arrival I 
 met him at a ball. A dozen people pointed him out to my 
 observation, and the first glance rivetted my attention. I
 
 MR. WEBSTER. 285 
 
 had never seen any countenance more expressive of in- 
 tellectual power. 
 
 The forehead of Mr. Webster is high, broad, and ad- 
 vancing. The cavity beneath the eyebrow is remarka- 
 bly large. The eye is deeply set, but full, dark, and 
 penetrating in the highest degree ; the nose prominent, 
 and well defined ; the mouth marked by that rigid com- 
 pression of the lips by which the New Englanders are 
 distinguished. When Mr. Webster's countenance is in 
 repose, its expression struck me as cold and forbidding, 
 but in conversation it lightens up; and when he smiles, 
 the whole impression it communicates is at once changed. 
 His voice is clear, sharp, and firm, without much variety 
 of modulation ; but when animated, it rings on the ear 
 like a clarion. 
 
 As an orator, I should imagine Mr. Webster's forte to 
 lie in the department of pure reason. I cannot conceive 
 his even attempting an appeal to the feelings. It could 
 not be successful ; and he has too much knowledge of his 
 own powers to encounter failure. In debate his very 
 countenance must tell. Few men would hazard a vo- 
 luntary sophism under the glance of that eye, so cold, so 
 keen, so penetrating, so expressive of intellectual power. 
 A single look would be enough to wither up a whole vo- 
 lume of bad logic. 
 
 In the Senate, I had, unfortunately, no opportunity of 
 hearing Mr. Webster display his great powers as a de- 
 bater. During my stay the subjects on which he hap- 
 pened to speak were altogether of inferior interest. In 
 the Supreme Court he delivered several legal arguments 
 which certainly struck me as admirable, both in regard 
 to matter and manner. The latter was neither vehement 
 nor subdued. It was the manner of conscious power, 
 tranquil and self-possessed. 
 
 Mr. Webster may be at once acquitted of all partici- 
 pation in the besetting sins of the orators of his age and 
 country. I even doubt, whether, in any single instance, 
 he can be fairly charged with having uttered a sentence 
 of mere declamation. His speeches have nothing about 
 them of gaudiness and glitter. Words with him are in- 
 struments, not ends; the vehicles, not of sound merely, 
 but of sense and reason. He utters no periods full of
 
 286 MR. VAN BUREN. 
 
 noise and fury, like the voice of an idiot, signifying 
 nothing; and it certainly exhibits proof that the taste of 
 the Americans is not yet irretrievably depraved, when 
 an orator like Mr. Webster, who despises all the stale 
 and petty trickery of his art, is called by acclamation 
 to the first place. 
 
 In conversation, Mr. Webster is particularly agreea- 
 ble. . It seems to delight him, when he mingles with his 
 friends, to cast off the trammels of weighty cogitation, 
 and merge the lawyer and the statesman in the compa- 
 nion; a more pleasant and instructive one I have rarely 
 known in any country. As a politician, the opinions of 
 Mr. Webster are remarkably free from intolerance. His 
 knowledge is both accurate and extensive. He is one 
 of the few men in America who understand the British 
 Constitution, not as a mere abstract system of laws and 
 institutions, but in its true form and pressure, as it works 
 and acts upon the people, modified by a thousand influ- 
 ences, of which his countrymen in general know no- 
 thing. 
 
 Mr. Van Buren, then Secretary of State, and now 
 Vice-President, possesses, perhaps, more of the manner 
 which in England would be called that of the world, 
 than any other of the distinguished individuals whom I 
 met in Washington. He is, evidently, a clever man, 
 with a perfect knowledge of character, and the springs 
 of human action. Neither his conversation nor his man- 
 ner are marked by any thing of official reserve. Indeed, 
 where the whole business of the government is conduct- 
 ed by committees of the Senate and Representatives, an 
 American Secretary of State can have few secrets, and 
 those not of much value. The opponents of the minis- 
 try, however, accuse Mr. Van Buren of being a manoeu- 
 vrer in politics a charge, I presume, to which he is 
 obnoxious only in common with his brother, statesmen, 
 of whatever party; for, where independence is impossi- 
 ble, finesse is necessary. But, on the details of party 
 politics I say nothing; I only know that the Secretary 
 of State is a gentleman of talent and information, of 
 agreeable manners, and, in conversation, full of anecdote 
 and vivacity. 
 
 After a sojourn of three weeks, I began to think of
 
 JOURNEY TO NEW ORLEANS. 397 
 
 departure; but a farewell ball, given by the British Mi- 
 nister, preparatory to his quitting Washington, induced 
 me to prolong my stay. Mr. Vaughan had won golden 
 opinions from all parties and conditions of Americans. 
 No minister had ever been more highly esteemed, and 
 the knowledge that the precarious state of his health 
 rendered it necessary that he should return to England, 
 contributed to cast something of gloom over the festivi- 
 ty. The scene, however, was very brilliant; and the 
 company, though numerous, certainly more select than 
 the party at the French Minister's. There were, at least, 
 no dirty boots, a blessing which the Washington ladies, 
 I have no doubt, estimated at its full value. 
 On the day following I took my departure. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 JOURNEY TO NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 FROM Washington I returned to Baltimore, where I 
 experienced a renewal of that kindness and hospitality, 
 to which, on my former visit, I had been so largely in- 
 debted. As the best mode of proceeding to the South, 
 I had been recommended to cross from Baltimore to 
 Wheeling, on the Ohio, and there to take steam for New 
 Orleans, as soon as the navigation of the river should be 
 reported open. For this intelligence, however, it was 
 necessary to wait in Baltimore, and certainly a more 
 agreeable place of confinement could not have been se- 
 lected. 
 
 Fortune favoured me. In a few days the newspapers 
 announced that the ice had broken up, and the Ohio was 
 again navigable. Having had the good fortune to en- 
 counter one of my English fellow-passengers by the 
 New York, likewise bound for New Orleans, we agreed 
 to travel together, and, on the morning of the 6th of 
 March, before daylight, stepped into the rail-way car- 
 riage which was to convey us ten miles on our journey.
 
 288 HAGERSTOWN. 
 
 The vehicle was of a description somewhat novel. It 
 was, in fact, a wooden house or chamber, somewhat like 
 those used by itinerant showmen in England, and was 
 drawn by a horse at the rate of about four miles an hour. 
 Our progress, therefore, was not rapid, and we were 
 nearly three hours in reaching a place called Ellicot 
 Mills, where we found a wretched breakfast awaiting our 
 arrival. 
 
 Having done honour to the meal in a measure rather 
 proportioned to our appetites than to the quality of the 
 viands, we embarked in what was called the " Accom- 
 modation Stage," so designated, probably, from the ab- 
 sence of every accommodation which travellers usually 
 expect in such a vehicle. The country through which 
 we passed was partially covered with snow. The ap- 
 pearance both of the dwelling-houses and the inhabitants 
 gave indication of poverty, which was confirmed by the 
 rough and stony aspect of the soil wherever it was visi- 
 ble. The coach stopped to dinner at a considerable vil- 
 lage called Frederickstown, where the appearance of the 
 entertainment was so forbidding, that I found it impos- 
 sible to eat. My appetite, therefore, was somewhat 
 overweening when we reached Hagerstown, a place of 
 some magnitude, where we halted for the night, having 
 accomplished a distance of eighty miles. 
 
 At three o'clock on the following morning we again 
 started on our journey. The roads were much worse 
 than we had found them on the preceding day, the coun- 
 try was buried deeper in snow, and our progress was in 
 consequence slower. The appearance of poverty seemed 
 to increase as we advanced. Here and there a ragged 
 negro slave was seen at work near the wretched log ho- 
 vel of his master ; and the number of deserted dwellings 
 which skirted the road, and of fields suffered to relapse 
 into a state of nature, showed that their former occu- 
 pants had gone forth in search of a more grateful soil. 
 
 We breakfasted at Clearspring, a trifling village, and 
 then commenced mounting the eastern ridge of the Alle- 
 ghanies, called Sideling Mountain. To one who has trod- 
 den the passes of the Alps and the Appenines, the Alle- 
 ghany Mountains present nothing very striking. Indeed, 
 the general character of American mountains is by no
 
 SAVAGE MOUNTAIN. 289 
 
 means picturesque. They are round and corpulent pro- 
 tuberances, and rarely rise into forms of wild and savage 
 grandeur. But some of the scenes presented by the Al- 
 leghanies are very fine. Nature, when undisturbed by 
 man, is never without a beauty of her own. But even in 
 these remote mountain recesses, the marks of wanton ha- 
 voc are too often visible. Numbers of the trees by the 
 road were scorched and mutilated, with no intelligible 
 object but that of destruction. Objects the most sublime 
 or beautiful have no sanctity in the eyes of an American. 
 He is not content with the full power of enjoyment, he 
 must exert the privilege to deface. 
 
 Our day's journey terminated at Flintstown, a solitary 
 inn, near which is a mineral spring, whereof the passen- 
 gers drank each about a gallon, without experiencing, as 
 they unanimously declared, effect of any sort. I own I 
 did not regret the inefficiency of the waters. 
 
 With the morning of the third day our difficulties com- 
 menced. We now approached the loftier ridges of the 
 Alleghanies; the roads became worse, and our progress 
 slower. The scenery was similar in character to that we 
 had already passed. The mountains, from base to sum- 
 mit, were covered with wood, interspersed with great 
 quantities of kalmias, rhododendrons, and other flowering 
 shrubs. 
 
 On the day following, our route lay over a ridge called 
 the Savage Mountain. The snow lay deeper every mile 
 of our advance, and at length, on reaching a miserable 
 inn, the landlord informed us, that no carriage, on wheels, 
 had been able to traverse the mountain for six weeks. 
 On inquiring for a sleigh, it then appeared that none was 
 to be had, and the natives all assured us that proceeding, 
 with our present carriage, was impossible. The landlord 
 dilated on the depth of snow, the dangers of the mountain, 
 the darkness of the nights, and strongly urged our taking 
 advantage of his hospitality till the following day. But 
 the passengers were all anxious to push forward, and, as 
 one of them happened to be a proprietor of the coach, 
 the driver very unwillingly determined on making the 
 attempt. We accordingly set forth, but had not gone 
 above a mile, when the coach stuck fast in a snow-drift, 
 which actually buried the horses. In this predicament, 
 
 37
 
 290 NATIONAL ROAD. 
 
 the whole men and horses of the little village were sum- 
 moned to our assistance, and, after about two hours' de- 
 lay, the vehicle was again set free. 
 
 We reached the next stage in the hollow of the moun- 
 tain, without farther accident, and the report as to the 
 state of the roads yet to be travelled, was very unpro- 
 mising. The majority of the passengers, however, having 
 fortified their courage with copious infusions of brandy, 
 determined not to be delayed by peril of any sort. On 
 we went, therefore; the night was pitchy dark; heavy 
 rain came on, and the wind howled loudly amid the bare 
 and bony arms of the surrounding forest. The road lay 
 along a succession of precipitous descents, down which, by 
 a single blunder of the driver, who was quite drunk, we 
 might at any moment be precipitated. Dangerous as, 
 under these circumstances, our progress unquestionably 
 was, the journey was accomplished in safety ; and halting 
 for the night at a. petty village, situated between the ridge 
 we had crossed, and another which yet remained to be 
 surmounted, the passengers exchanged congratulations on 
 the good fortune which had hitherto attended them. 
 
 Before sunrise We were again on the road, and com- 
 menced the ascent of Laurel Mountain, which occupied 
 several hours. The view from the summit was fine and 
 extensive, though, perhaps, deficient in variety. We 
 had now surmounted the last ridge of the Alleghanies, 
 and calculated on making the rest of our way in compa- 
 rative ease and comfort. This was a mistake. Though 
 we found little snow to the westward of the mountains, 
 the road was most execrable, and the jolting exceeded 
 any thing I had yet experienced. The day's journev 
 terminated at Washington, a town of considerable popu- 
 lation, with a tavern somewhat more comfortable than 
 the wretched and dirty dogholes to which, for some days, 
 we had been condemned. 
 
 During our last day's journey we passed through a 
 richer country, but experienced no improvement in the 
 road, which is what is called a national one, or, in other 
 words, constructed at the expense of the general govern- 
 ment. If intended by Congress to act as an instrument 
 of punishment on their sovereign constituents, it is, no 
 doubt, very happily adapted for the purpose. In its
 
 VIRGINIAN DOCTOR. 291 
 
 formation all the ordinary principles of road-making are 
 reversed ; and that grateful travellers may be instructed 
 to whom they are indebted for their fractures and contu- 
 sions, a column has been erected to Mr. Clay, on which 
 his claims to the honours of artifex maximus, are duly 
 emblazoned. 
 
 The tedium of the journey, however, was enlivened 
 by the presence of a very pretty and communicative 
 young lady, returning from a visit in the neighbourhood, 
 to Alexandria, the place of her residence. From her I 
 gathered every information with regard to the state of 
 polite society in these tramontane regions. This fair 
 damsel evidently made conquest of a Virginian doctor, 
 who had been our fellow-traveller for several days, and 
 was peculiarly disgusting from an inordinate addiction to 
 the vernacular vices of dram- drinking and tobacco-chew- 
 ing. Being generally drunk, he spat right and left in 
 the coach, and especially after dark, discharged volleys 
 of saliva, utterly reckless of consequences. One night I 
 was wakened from a sound sleep by the outcries of a 
 Quaker, into whose eye he had squirted a whole mouth- 
 ful of tobacco juice. The pain caused by this offensive 
 application to so delicate an organ was very great. 
 Broadbrim forgot for the nonce all the equanimity of 
 his cloth; cursed the doctor for a drunken vagabond; 
 and, on reaching our resting-place for the night, I cer- 
 tainly observed that his eye had suffered considerable 
 damage. For myself, being a tolerably old traveller, I 
 no sooner discovered the doctor's propensity, than I con- 
 trived to gain possession of the seat immediately behind 
 him, and thus fortunately escaped all annoyance, except 
 that arising from the filthiness of his person, and the bru- 
 tality of his conversation. 
 
 About mid-day we reached Brownsville, a manufac- 
 turing town of considerable size, situated on the Monon- 
 gahela, which, by its junction with the Alleghany, near 
 Pittsburg, forms the Ohio. The appearance of Browns- 
 ville is black and disgusting; its streets are dirty, and 
 unpaved; and the houses present none of the "externals 
 of opulence. The river is a fine one, about the size of 
 the Thames, at Westminster; and having crossed it, our 
 route lay for some miles through a pretty and undulating
 
 292 THE OHIO. 
 
 country. At night we reached Wheeling, after a day's 
 journey of only thirty miles, accomplished with more dif- 
 ficulty and inconvenience than we had before experi- 
 enced. 
 
 Being anxious to gain a view of the Ohio, I took pos- 
 session, during the last stage, of a seat beside the driver, 
 on the box. Night was closing as we gained the summit 
 of the hill, which overhangs the town of Wheeling. The 
 river was just visible, with its noble volume of waters 
 flowing onward in quiet and tranquil grandeur. Before 
 we reached the town, it was dark; the sky was moon- 
 less, and I was therefore obliged to defer the gratifica- 
 tion of my curiosity till the following morning. 
 
 I was abroad betimes. Immediately opposite to Wheel- 
 ing, the stream of the Ohio is divided by an island of 
 considerable size. Above and below, it is about the 
 hreadth of the Rhine at Mayence. The scenery, though 
 very pleasing, could scarcely be termed beautiful. Steam- 
 boats of all sizes, were ranged along the quays ; and the 
 loud hissing of the engines gave notice of numerous pre- 
 parations for departure. 
 
 The town of Wheeling, dirty and smoke-begrimed, 
 could boast of no attraction; and my English fellow- 
 traveller having engaged berths in a steamer, about to 
 sail in a few hours for Louisville, our baggage was im- 
 mediately despatched on board.' In order to pass the 
 time, I then crossed over to the island, and spent an hour 
 in examining its scenery. The proprietor informed me 
 it contained about a hundred acres. Some of the timber 
 was magnificent, but cultivation had made sad havoc in 
 the natural beauties of the spot. 
 
 About two o'clock we started on our voyage. Our 
 steamer was not a first-rate one, but the accommodation 
 was good, and her progress, with the stream in her fa- 
 vour, very rapid. For several hours I remained on 
 deck, gazing on a character of scenery to which I had 
 seen nothing similar in Europe. The river is bounded 
 by a succession of wooded eminences, sometimes rising 
 from the very margin; sometimes receding to- a short dis- 
 tance, and leaving a narrow plain of fertile land, on which 
 here and there a stray settler had established himself. 
 The dwellings of such settlers were of the very rudest
 
 CINCINNATI. 293 
 
 construction, being generally log huts, about equal in 
 comfortj I should imagine, to the cabin of an Irish pea- 
 sant. 
 
 The great defect of the scenery of the Ohio is want 
 of variety. During the first day, 1 was delighted ; but, 
 on the second, something of the charm was gone; and at 
 length its monotony became almost tedious. A thousand 
 miles of any scenery, with one definite and unchanging 
 character, will generally be found too much. 
 
 In two days we reached Cincinnati, a town of nearly 
 thirty thousand inhabitants, finely situated, on a slope 
 ascending from the river. The streets and buildings are 
 handsome, and certainly far superior to what might be 
 expected in a situation six hundred miles from the sea, 
 and standing on ground which, till lately, was considered 
 the extreme limit of civilization. It is, apparently, a 
 place of considerable trade. The quay was covered with 
 articles of traffic; and there are a thousand indications of 
 activity and business, which strike the senses of a tra- 
 veller, but which he would find it difficult to describe. 
 Having nothing bette'r to do, I took a stroll about the 
 town, and its first favourable impression was not dimi- 
 nished by closer inspection. Many of the streets and 
 churches would have been considered handsome in New 
 York or Philadelphia; and, in the private dwellings, con- 
 siderable attention had been paid to external decoration. 
 
 The most remarkable object in Cincinnati, however, 
 is a large Graeco-Moresco-Gothic-Chinese-looking build- 
 ing, an architectural compilation of prettinesses of all 
 sorts, the effect of which is eminently grotesque. Our 
 attention was immediately arrested by this extraordinary 
 apparition, which could scarcely have been more out of 
 place had it been tossed on the earth by some volcano in 
 the moon. While we stood opposite to the edifice, con- 
 templating the gorgeousness of its effect, and speculating 
 " what aspect bore the man" to whom the inhabitants of 
 these central regions could have been indebted for so 
 brilliant and fantastic an outrage on all acknowledged 
 principles of taste, a very pretty and pleasant-looking 
 girl, came out, and invited us to enter. We, according- 
 ly, did so, and found every thing in the interior of the
 
 294 MRS - TROLLOPE. 
 
 building had been finished on a scale quite in harmony 
 with its external magnificence. Below, was a saloon of 
 very spacious dimensions, which our fair conductress in- 
 formed us had been intended for a bazaar. Above, were 
 ball and supper apartments, with retiring rooms for the 
 ladies, duly supplied with mirrors and toilet tables. No- 
 thing, in short, was wanting, which could in any way 
 contribute to splendour, elegance, or comfort. 
 
 All this excited our curiosity, for, in truth, it seemed 
 as if the projector of this singular edifice had intended^ 
 by its erection, to contribute rather to the speculative 
 and contingent wants of some future generation, than to 
 minister to the present necessities of the prudent and 
 hard-working Cincinnatians. We found our guide as 
 communicative as could be desired. She informed us 
 that the building had been erected by an English lady of 
 the name of Trollope, who, induced by pleasure or busi- 
 ness, had some years before taken up her residence in 
 Cincinnati; that the experiment of a bazaar had been 
 tried and failed; that the lower saloon was now altoge- 
 ther unoccupied, except on the 4th of July, when it wit- 
 nessed the usual sce"ne of festive celebration; that the so- 
 ber Cincinnatians had always been content with two balls 
 in the year, and would by no means consent to increase 
 their annual modicum of dancing; in short, that the 
 Whole speculation had turned out a decided failure, and 
 it was in contemplation of the fair proprietrix to convert 
 it into a church. 
 
 I had then never heard of Mrs. Trollope; but at New 
 York I had afterwards the pleasure of becoming acquaint- 
 ed with her, and can bear testimony to her conversation 
 being imbued with all that grace, spirit, and vivacity, 
 which have since delighted the world in her writings. 
 How far Mrs. Trollope's volumes present a just picture 
 of American society, it is not for me to decide, though 
 I can offer willing testimony to the general fidelity of 
 her descriptions. But her claims to the gratitude of the 
 Cincinnatians are undoubtedly very great. Her archi- 
 tectural talent has beautified their city; her literary 
 powers have given it celebrity. For nearly thirty years 
 Cincinnati had gradually been increasing in opulence.
 
 DINNER IN STEAM-BOAT. 395 
 
 and enjoying a vulgar and obscure prosperity. Corn 
 had grown, and hogs had fattened; men had built houses, 
 and women borne children; but in all the higher senses 
 of urbane existence, Cincinnati was a nonentity. It 
 was " unknown, unhonoured, and unsung." Ears po- 
 lite had never heard of it. There was not the glimmer- 
 ing of a chance that it would be mentioned twice in a 
 twelvemonth, even on the Liverpool Exchange. But 
 Mrs. Trollope came, and a zone of light has ever since 
 encircled Cincinnati. Its inhabitants are no longer a 
 race unknown to fame. Their manners, habits, virtues, 
 tastes, vices, and pursuits, are familiar to all the world; 
 but, strange to say, the market-place of Cincinnati is yet 
 unadorned by the statue of the great benefactress of the 
 city! Has gratitude utterly departed from the earth? 
 
 These western regions are undoubtedly the chosen 
 abode of plenty. Provisions are so cheap that no one 
 ever seems to dream of economy. Three times a-day 
 was the table in the steam-boat literally covered with 
 dishes, wedged together as closely as a battalion of in- 
 fantry in solid square. Though the passengers were 
 only about twenty in number, there was always dinner 
 enough for a hundred. Joints, turkeys, hams, chops, 
 and steaks, lay spread before us in most admired confu- 
 sion. Brandy bottles were located at judicious inter- 
 vals; and porter was to be had on paying for it. I had 
 asked for wine, but in vain; so, being at the luxurious 
 city of Cincinnati, and tolerably tired of the poison 
 called brandy, I sent for a bottle of Champagne from the 
 inn. The bottle came, but on being opened, the con- 
 tents were much more like sour cider than Champagne, 
 In short, the stuff was decidedly too bad for drinking, 
 and was accordingly pushed aside. But the appearance 
 of this anomalous-looking flask evidently caused some 
 commotion among the passengers. The wine was pro- 
 bably one which few of them had tasted, and many 
 were evidently determined to seize the earliest oppor- 
 tunity of enlarging their experience. " I should like a 
 glass of your wine, sir, if you have no objections," said 
 my old enemy the Virginian doctor. I immediately 
 pushed the bottle to him, and he filled his tumbler to 
 the brim. Observing this, the persons about him, with-
 
 296 HABITS OF PASSENGERS. 
 
 out ceremony of any kind, seized the bottle, and its con- 
 tents incontinently disappeared. 
 
 In regard to the passengers, truth compels me to say, 
 that any thing so disgusting in human shape 1 had never 
 seen. Their morals and their manners were alike de- 
 testable. A cold and callous selfishness, a disregard of 
 all the decencies of society, were so apparent in feature, 
 word and action, that I found it impossible not to wish 
 that their catalogue of sins had been enlarged by one 
 more hypocrisy. Of hypocrisy, however, they were 
 not guilty. The conversation in the cabin was inter- 
 larded with the vilest blasphemy, not uttered in a state 
 of mental excitement, but with a coolness and delibera- 
 tion truly fiend-like. There was a Baptist clergyman 
 on board, but his presence did not seem to operate as a re- 
 straint. The scene of drinking and gambling had no in- 
 termission. It continued day and night. The captain 
 of the vessel so far from discouraging either vice, was 
 one of the most flagrant offenders in both. He was de- 
 cidedly the greatest gambler on board; and was often so 
 drunk as to be utterly incapable of taking command of 
 the vessel. There were a few female passengers, but 
 with their presence we were only honoured at meals. 
 At all other times, they prudently confined themselves 
 to their own cabin. 
 
 One circumstance may be mentioned, which is tole- 
 rably illustrative of the general habits of the people. In 
 every steamboat there is a public comb and hair-brush 
 suspended by a string from the ceiling of the cabin. 
 These utensils are used by the whole body of the pas- 
 sengers, and their condition, the pen of Swift could alone 
 adequately describe. There is no tooth-brush, simply, 
 I believe, because the article is entirely unknown to the 
 American toilet. A common towel, however, passes 
 from hand to hand, and suffices for the perfunctory ablu- 
 tions of the whole party on board. It was often with 
 great difficulty that I procured the exclusive usufruct of 
 one, and it was evident that the demand was not only 
 unusual but disagreeable. 
 
 One day at dinner, my English fellow-traveller, who 
 had resided many years in the United States, inquired 
 whether I observed an ivory hilt protruded from beneath
 
 LOUISVILLE. 297 
 
 the waistcoat of a gentleman opposite. I answered in the 
 affirmative, and he then informed me that the whole popu- 
 lation of the Southern and Western States are uniformly 
 armed with daggers. On my expressing some doubt of this 
 singular fact, he pointed to a number of sticks collected 
 in one corner of the cabin, and offered a wager that every 
 one of these contained either a dagger or a sword. I 
 took the bet, and lost it; and my subsequent observations 
 confirmed the truth of his assertion in every particular. 
 Even in travelling in the state of New York, I after- 
 wards observed that a great number of the passengers in 
 stage-coaches and canal boats were armed with this un- 
 manly and assassin-like weapon. 
 
 It is the fashion in the United States to ask a foreigner 
 whether he does not admire the extraordinary respect 
 and deference which the people pay to the law. It is 
 pretty evident, however, from the circumstances I have 
 mentioned, that whatever respect each individual may 
 pay to the law in his own person, he has no great confi- 
 dence in a similar demonstration on the part of his neigh- 
 bour. 
 
 We left Cincinnati about two o'clock, and betimes, on 
 the following morning, were at Louisville, in Kentucky. 
 The scenery of the river continued unchanged. I was 
 particularly struck with the vast masses of drift-wood 
 carried down by the stream. Trees, of the most gigan- 
 tic dimensions, seemed to have been been uprooted by 
 the floods from the spot in which they had stood for cen- 
 turies. The great quantity of this drift-wood occasions 
 some danger; for the paddles, by striking it, are apt to 
 break, and there is always a man on the look-out to report 
 any apparent risk of contact. 
 
 At Louisville, the vessel terminated her voyage. It 
 is a place of greater trade, I believe, than Cincinnati, 
 though with scarcely half the population. Being tired 
 of steam-boat living, we breakfasted at the inn. We 
 were at first ushered into the bar, already crowded with 
 about a hundred people, all assembled with the same ob- 
 ject as ourselves. At length the bell sounded, and the 
 crowd rushed up stairs to the breakfast-room as if fa- 
 mine-stricken. The meal was coarse and bad. The 
 bread was made with grease, and a sight of the dressed 
 
 38
 
 298 MR- CLAY. 
 
 dishes was enough. Immediately opposite was a coid 
 fowl, to which I requested a gentleman to help me. He 
 deliberately cut out the whole body for himself, and 
 then handed across the dish with the drumsticks. 
 
 After breakfast, we went over all the New Orleans 
 vessels, but could find none about to sail, sooner than 
 the following day at noon. My companion and myself 
 accordingly took places in the Huntress, and, for fifty 
 dollars, I had the good fortune to secure a separate cabin 
 for myself and servant. This was of some consequence; 
 because, in these regions, no white man can appear with- 
 out disgrace in the capacity of servant to another. I 
 was, therefore, obliged, at Wheeling, to desire mine to 
 designate himself as my clerk or secretary; and, in 
 cleaning my clothes, he generally ensconced himself be- 
 hind a curtain. On the present occasion, with the pro- 
 mise of this accommodation, I was content to put up 
 with a very inferior vessel to many others then at Lou- 
 isville. 
 
 Within forty miles of Louisville, is the residence of 
 Mr. Clay, and I had entered Kentucky with the inten- 
 tion of visiting that eminent person, who is considered 
 equally remarkable for his powers as a statesman and a 
 companion. I learned, however, at Louisville, that Mr. 
 Clay was then at New Orleans, but expected to leave 
 that city in the course of the following week. As I was 
 particularly anxious to become acquainted with the great 
 rival of the present President, I determined on giving 
 up all idea of a tour in Kentucky, and pushing on to 
 New Orleans with the least possible delay. This deci- 
 sion was unfortunate, for it prevented my becoming ac- 
 quainted with a very interesting state, and availing my- 
 self of several hospitable invitations I had received in 
 New York and Washington. I found, too, on my arri- 
 val at New Orleans, that Mr. Clay had taken his depar- 
 ture; so that the only effect of my arrangements was a 
 double disappointment. 
 
 The Kentuckians may be called the Irish of America. 
 They have all that levity of character, that subjection of 
 the moral to the convivial, that buoyancy of spirit, that 
 jocular ferocity, that ardour, both of attachment and of 
 hatred, which distinguish the natives of the Emerald Isle.
 
 KENTUCKIANS. 299 
 
 The Kentuckians are the only Americans who can un- 
 derstand a joke. There is a kind of native humour 
 about them which is very pleasant; and, I must say, that 
 several Kentucky gentlemen were among the most 
 agreeable companions, with whom I had the good for- 
 tune to become acquainted during my tour. 
 
 About a mile below Louisville are the falls, or rather 
 rapids, of the Ohio, which, when the river is low, offer a 
 formidable obstruction to the navigation. In order to 
 avoid them, a canal has been constructed near the place 
 called Shipping-port. The work was one of some diffi- 
 culty, and has been executed in the most expensive 
 manner. Owing to the quantities of sediment which the 
 river carries into it when in flood, I was sorry to learn 
 that this fine work is considered likely to prove a failure. 
 As the canal is only to be used, however, when the river 
 is low, and consequently free from impurity, I cannot 
 but think that, by the addition of floodgates, the evil 
 might be easily remedied. 
 
 The New Orleans steam-boats are a very different de- 
 scription of vessels to any I had yet seen. They are of 
 great size, and the object being to carry as large a cargo 
 as possible, the whole vessel, properly so called, is de- 
 voted to this purpose, and the cabins for the passengers 
 are raised in successive tiers above the main deck. 
 The lower of these cabins is appropriated to the gentle- 
 men. It is generally spacious, and very handsomely 
 fitted up. Three of its sides are surrounded by a gallery 
 and veranda. Over this is the ladies' cabin, equally 
 handsome, though smaller. On the roof of the ladies' 
 cabin is a deck on which the passengers may amuse them- 
 selves as they think proper. Near the forecastle, at the 
 same elevation, is the place for the steerage passengers. 
 These vessels have very much the appearance of three- 
 deckers, and many of them are upwards of 500 tons' bur- 
 den. Their engines are generally constructed on the 
 high-pressure principle, and one or two generally blow 
 up every season, sending a score or two of parboiled 
 passengers to an inconvenient altitude in the atmo- 
 sphere. 
 
 On the day following we commenced our voyage, of 
 1500 miles, to New Orleans. The weather was delight-
 
 300 DEPARTURE FROM LOUIS VJLLE. 
 
 ful, and I now enjoyed the privilege of reading and 
 writing undisturbed in my cabin. The passengers, 
 though coarse as heart could desire, were at least less 
 openly and obtrusively profligate than those I have al- 
 ready described. There was the same scene of gambling 
 and drinking; but I was now able to remove from the 
 din and the blasphemy. 
 
 After leaving Louisville, we were nearly three days 
 in reaching the point of junction between the Mississippi 
 and Ohio. The latter river receives the waters of several 
 large tributaries, the Tennessee, the Cumberland, the 
 Wabash, &c., by which its magnitude is prodigiously 
 increased. We skirted the new and flourishing states of 
 Indiana and Illinois, which I did not visit. With their 
 facilities, agricultural and commercial, their advantages 
 and disadvantages, their soil, their climate, their produc- 
 tions, the public have already been made familiar by 
 writers far better qualified to afford instruction on such 
 matters than I pretend to be. 
 
 To a traveller, whose leading objects are connected 
 with the structure of society, there is little in a scantily 
 peopled territory to excite speculation. He that has seen 
 one settler in the backwoods has seen a thousand. Those 
 whom the love of lucre, and consciousness of indepen- 
 dence, have induced to seek the recesses of the forest, 
 who gaze daily on the same aspect of nature, who en- 
 dure the same privations, encounter the same difficulties, 
 and struggle by the same means, for the same ultimate 
 reward, can present but one aspect of human character, 
 and that far from the most interesting. With individuals 
 BO situated, indeed, I was necessarily, in different portions 
 of my journey, brought into frequent contact. But I ne- 
 ver voluntarily sought them, for I was chiefly anxious to 
 contemplate men in their social and more extended rela- 
 tions, and to observe the influences, moral and political, 
 by which the national character had been formed or mo- 
 dified. My steps, therefore, were directed to the city, 
 not to the solitary shantee; to the haunts of large masses 
 of men, rather than to those of isolated adventurers, who 
 have yet to dispute the dominion of the forest with the 
 bear and the panther. 
 
 On the second morning after our departure from Lou-
 
 JUNCTION OF THE OHIO AND MISSISSIPPI. 301 
 
 isville, a change in the general character of the river 
 seemed to indicate that we were rapidly approaching the 
 Mississippi. For about fifty miles before the point of 
 union, the surrounding scenery is flat, and the breadth of 
 the Ohio is more than doubled, as if, from a feeling of ri- 
 valry, the river god had expanded his waters to the ut- 
 most. On the present occasion, the Ohio had the advan- 
 tage of being very full from the melting of the snows 
 along the whole line of its course, while the Mississippi, 
 descending from higher latitudes, had experienced no such 
 augmentation. 
 
 For hours I was on the tiptoe of expectation to catch 
 the first glimpse of " the father of rivers," and with this 
 view, had taken up a station on the highest pinnacle of 
 the forecastle. At length, when yet about five miles dis- 
 tant, the Mississippi, sailing along in dark and solemn 
 grandeur, became distinctly visible. Both rivers were 
 about two miles broad, but the expanse of the Ohio 
 struck me as being somewhat larger than that of its 
 more powerful rival. I do not remember any occasion 
 on which my imagination was more excited. I felt, in 
 parting with the Ohio, as if I had done injustice to its at- 
 tractions. True, it presents but one phasis of beauty, but 
 that is of the noblest character. For a distance of nine 
 hundred miles I had beheld it roll its clear waters, smooth- 
 ly and peacefully, and I now, almost with a feeling of re- 
 gret, bade it farewell. 
 
 The Huntress kept on her way rejoicing. We passed 
 the small settlement of Cairo, standing on an isthmus be- 
 tween the two rivers, and in a few minutes beheld our- 
 selves borne on the most majestic tribute of waters which 
 Earth pays to Ocean. 
 
 It certainly appears strange that the Mississippi, after 
 absorbing the Ohio, presents no visible augmentation of 
 its volume. Below the point of junction, the river is not 
 broader than the Ohio alone. Though flowing in the 
 same channel, the streams are not mingled. For many 
 miles there is a distinct line of demarcation between the 
 waters of the two rivers. Those of the Ohio are clear, 
 while the stream of the Mississippi is ever dark and tur- 
 bid. When the Mississippi is in flood, it almost dams up 
 the Ohio, and suffers it to occupy but a small portion of
 
 302 SCENERY OF THE MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 the common channel. But, in other circumstances, the 
 case is different, and the Ohio constitutes, in parliamen- 
 tary phrase, a very respectable minority. 
 
 After quitting la belle riviere, as the French first desig- 
 nated the Ohio, one feels as if he had made an exchange 
 for the worse. The scenery of the Mississippi is even 
 less varied than that of the Ohio. It is almost uniformly 
 flat, though in the course of twelve hundred miles a few 
 bluffs and eminences do certainly occur. The wood grows 
 down to the very margin of the river, and the timber, for 
 some hundred miles, is by no means remarkable for size. 
 As the river descends to the southward, however, it is of 
 finer growth ; and about latitude 36, vegetation becomes 
 marked by a degree of rankness and luxuriance which I 
 have never seen equalled any where else. 
 
 The American forests are generally remarkable for the 
 entire absence of underwood, so that they are easily pe- 
 netrable by a foot traveller, and, generally, even by a 
 mounted one. But in the neighbourhood of the Mississippi 
 there is almost uniformly a thick undergrowth of cane, 
 varying in height from four or five to about twenty feet, 
 according to the richness of the soil. Through this thicket 
 of cane 1 should think it quite impossible to penetrate, 
 yet I have been assured the Indians do so for leagues to- 
 gether, though by what means they contrive to guide 
 their course, where vision is manifestly impossible, it is 
 not easy to understand. 
 
 The steam-boats stop twice a-day to take in a supply 
 of wood for the engine. These vessels have become so 
 numerous that a considerable number of settlers make it 
 their business to supply them, and thus turn their labour 
 to better account than would be found in the cultivation 
 of the soil. ' But the climate is deadly and pestilential ; 
 they are wan and sallow ; and those with whom I spoke 
 seemed to regard fevers as things of course. Medicine 
 they have none ; and when one's eyes rested on the mi- 
 serable and pallid children, and their haggard mother, 
 it was impossible not to feel compassion for these forlorn 
 outcasts. 
 
 Outcasts they literally are. Many have fled for 
 crimes, to a region where the arm of the law cannot 
 reach them. Others are men of broken characters,
 
 SOCIETY IN STEAM-BOAT. 393 
 
 hopes, and fortunes, who fly not from justice, but eon- 
 tempt. One man told me it was so. He had known bet- 
 ter days. Men blamed him when he became poor. He 
 withdrew his poverty from their sight, and came to la- 
 bour amid the untrodden forests of the Mississippi. The 
 man had been handsome, and still bore about him some- 
 thing of dignity. His manners were remarkably pleasing; 
 but my fellow passengers assured me that he was one 
 who could stab while he smiled. 1 certainly should not 
 much have fancied encroaching on the hospitality of his 
 solitary shantee. 
 
 These settlers are called Squatters. They locate where 
 they please, without troubling themselves about any title 
 to the land they occupy. Should a rival in the business 
 of wood-cutting choose ta take up his residence inconve- 
 niently near, the rifle settles the dispute. One or other 
 becomes food for the vultures, and the market continues 
 uninjured by competition. 
 
 During the whole course of the voyage, we daily 
 passed numbers of large arks or rafts, consisting of rough 
 timbers, nailed together in the shape of a square box, in 
 which the poorer proprietors of the upper country send 
 down the produce of their land to New Orleans. These 
 vessels were often without sails of any kind, and the only 
 skill necessary in the navigation was to keep in the mid- 
 dle of the stream. Time was, and that not far distant, 
 when these rafts constituted almost the only vehicles for 
 conveying produce to the place of embarkation. In those 
 days, a voyage to Louisville and back occupied about 
 nine months, and by means of steam it can now be per- 
 formed in little more than a fortnight. The application 
 of steam navigation to the purposes of commerce has in- 
 deed given a mighty impulse to the prosperity of the 
 central States. In the niches next to Mrs. Trollope, the 
 Cincinnatians should place statues of Fulton and James 
 Watt. To the first they owe celebrity; to the two last, 
 a market for their bacon and flour. 
 
 Time passed on board of the steam-boat, if not plea- 
 santly, at least tranquilly. True, there were gambling 
 and drinking, and wrangling and swearing; true, there 
 was an utter disregard of all the decent courtesies of so- 
 ciety : but to these things I had gradually become ac-
 
 304 SCENERY OF THE MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 customed ; for as they hourly, and almost minutely " over- 
 came us like a summer's cloud," they were no longer 
 regarded with " special wonder." But there were some 
 things to which I had not become accustomed, and one 
 of these was slavery ; and another, eating and drinking 
 and holding communion with a slave-dealer. 
 
 Unfortunately, the man generally occupied the place 
 next to me at dinner; and, strange to say, with the soul 
 of a brute, I remarked that he performed all the func- 
 tions of an ordinary American. He ate, he drank, he 
 voided profusion of tobacco juice, he swallowed brandy 
 every half hour of the day, and passed three-fourths, 
 both of day and night, in gambling. His poor gang of 
 slaves were above stairs, the men loaded with heavy 
 chains, and the women with scarcely rags enough to 
 serve the purposes of decency. I spoke occasionally to 
 both, and the women were certainly the more intelligent. 
 They seemed to take pride in the largeness of the prices 
 they had formerly brought in the markel ; and one, with 
 a look of dignity, told me her master had refused three 
 hundred dollars for her. Who, after this, shall presume 
 to say, that vanity is not an inherent attribute of woman? 
 
 The men were in a state at once wretched and dis- 
 gusting. Their chains prevented their performing the 
 ordinary functions of cleanliness, and their skin had be- 
 come covered with a sort of scaly eruption. But I will 
 not enlarge on a subject so revolting. 1 remember, how- 
 ever, that no one on board talked about freedom so loud- 
 ly or so long as this slave-dealer. He at length left us, 
 and the sky seemed brighter, and the earth greener, af- 
 ter his departure. 
 
 It has been the fashion with travellers to talk of the 
 scenery of the Mississippi as wanting grandeur and 
 beauty. Most certainly it has neither. But there is no 
 scenery on earth more striking. The dreary and pesti- 
 lential solitudes, untrodden save by the foot of the In- 
 dian; the absence of all living objects, save the huge alli- 
 gators which float past, apparently asleep, on the drift- 
 wood; and an occasional vulture, attracted by its impure 
 prey on the surface of the waters; the trees, with a Jong 
 and hideous drapery of pendant moss, fluttering in the 
 wind; and the giant river rolling on ward the vast volume
 
 SCENERY OF THE MISSISSIPPI. 3Q5 
 
 of its dark and turbid waters through the wilderness, 
 form the features of one of the most dismal and impres- 
 sive landscapes on which the eye of man ever rested. 
 
 If any man think proper to helieve that such objects 
 are not, in themselves, sufficient, 1 beg only to say that 
 I differ with him in point of taste. Rocks and mountains 
 are fine things, undoubtedly, but they could add nothing 
 of sublimity to the Mississippi. Pelion might be piled 
 on Ossa, Alps on Andes, and still, to the heart and per- 
 ceptions of the spectator, the Mississippi would be alone. 
 It can brook no rival, and it finds none. No river in the 
 world drains so large a portion of the earth's surface. It 
 is the traveller of five thousand miles, more than two- 
 thirds of the diameter of the globe. The imagination 
 asks, whence come its waters, and whither tend they? 
 They come from the distant regions of a vas.t continent, 
 where the foot of civilized man has never yet been 
 planted. They flow into an ocean yet vaster, the whole 
 body of which acknowledges their influence. Through 
 what varieties of climate have they passed! On what 
 scenes of lonely and sublime magnificence have they 
 gazed! Have they penetrated 
 
 " The hoary forests, still the Bison's screen, 
 
 Where stalked the Mammoth to his shag-gy lair, 
 Through paths and alleys, roof 'd with sombre green, 
 
 Thousands of years before the silent air 
 Was pierc'd by whizzing shaft of hunter keen?" 
 
 In short, when the traveller has asked and answered 
 these questions, and a thousand others, it will be time 
 enough to consider how far the scenery of the Missis- 
 sippi would be improved by the presence of rocks and 
 mountains. He may then be led to doubt whether any 
 great effect can be produced by a combination of objects 
 of discordant character, however grand in themselves. 
 The imagination is, perhaps, susceptible but of a single 
 powerful impression at a time. Sublimity is uniformly 
 connected with unity of object. Beauty may be pro- 
 duced by the happy adaptation of a multitude of harmo- 
 nious details; but the highest sublimity of effect can pro- 
 ceed but from one glorious and paramount object, which 
 impresses its own character on every thing around. 
 
 39
 
 306 NAVIGATION OF THE MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 The prevailing character of the Mississippi is that of 
 solemn gloom. I have trodden the passes of Alp and 
 Appennine, yet never felt how awful a thing is nature, 
 till I was borne on its waters, through regions desolate 
 and uninhabitable. Day after day, and night after night, 
 we continued driving right downward to the south; our 
 vessel, like some huge demon of the wilderness, bearing 
 fire in her bosom, and canopying the eternal forest with 
 the smoke of her nostrils. How looked the hoary river- 
 god I know not; nor what thought the alligators, when 
 awakened from their slumber by a vision so astounding. 
 But the effect on my own spirits was such as I have never 
 experienced before or smce. Conversation became odi- 
 ous, and I passed my time in a sort of dreamy contem- 
 plation. At night, 1 ascended to the highest deck, and 
 lay for hours gazing listlessly on the sky, the forest, and 
 the waters, 'amid silence only broken by the clanging of 
 the engine. All this was very pleasant; yet, till I reached 
 New Orleans, I could scarcely have smiled at the best 
 joke in the world; and as for raising a laugh it would 
 have been quite as easy to quadrate the circle. 
 
 The navigation of the Mississippi is not unaccompa- 
 nied by danger. I do not now speak of the risk of ex- 
 plosion, which is very considerable, but of a peril arising 
 from what are called planters and sawyers. These are 
 trees firmly fixed in the bottom of the river, by which 
 vessels are in danger of being impaled. The distinction 
 is, that the former stand upright in the water, the latter 
 lie with their points directed down the stream. We had 
 the bad luck to sustain some damage from a planter, 
 whose head being submersed was of course invisible. 
 
 The bends or flexures of the Mississippi are regular in 
 a degree unknown in any other river; indeed, so much 
 is this the case, that I should conceive it quite practica- 
 ble for an hydrographer to make a tolerably accurate 
 sketch of its course without actual survey. The action 
 of running water, in a vast alluvial plain like that of the 
 basin of the Mississippi, without obstruction from rock 
 or mountain, may be calculated with the utmost preci- 
 sion. Whenever the course of a river diverges in any 
 degree from a right line, it is evident that the current 
 can no longer act with equal force on both its banks.
 
 PROGRESSING CHANGES. 397 
 
 On one side the impulse is diminished, on the other in- 
 creased. The tendency in these sinuosities, therefore, is 
 manifestly to increase, and the stream which hollows out 
 a portion of one bank being rejected to the other, the 
 process of curvature is still continued, till its channel 
 presents an almost unvarying succession of salient and 
 retiring angles. 
 
 In the Mississippi the flexures are so extremely great, 
 that it often happens that the isthmus which divides dif- 
 ferent portions of the river gives way. A few months 
 before my visit to the south, a remarkable case of this 
 kind had happened, by which forty mHes of navigation 
 had been saved. The opening thus formed was called the 
 new cut; and it was matter of debate between the Cap- 
 tain and pilot whether we should not pass through it. 
 
 Even the annual changes which take place in the bed 
 of the Mississippi are very remarkable. Islands spring 
 up and disappear; shoals suddenly present themselves 
 where pilots have been accustomed to deep water; in 
 many places whole acres are swept away from one bank 
 and added to the other; and the pilot assured me, that in 
 every voyage he could perceive fresh changes. 
 
 Many circumstances contribute to render these changes 
 more rapid in the Mississippi than in any other river. 
 Among these, perhaps, the greatest is the vast volume of 
 its waters, acting on alluvial matter, peculiarly penetra- 
 ble. The river, when in flood, spreads over the neigh- 
 bouring country, in which it has formed channels, called 
 bayous. The banks thus become so saturated with wa- 
 ter, that they can oppose little resistance to the action 
 of the current, which frequently sweeps off large por- 
 tions of the forest. 
 
 The immense quantity of drift-wood is another cause 
 of change. Floating logs encounter some obstacle in the 
 river, and become stationary. The mass gradually accu- 
 mulates ; the water, saturated with mud, deposites a sedi- 
 ment, and thus an island is formed, which soon becomes 
 covered with vegetation. About ten years ago the Mis- 
 sissippi was surveyed by order of the Government; and 
 its islands, from the confluence of the Missouri to the 
 sea, were numbered. I remember asking the pilot the 
 name of a very beautiful island, and the answer was,
 
 308 RAPID TRANSITION OF CLIMATE. 
 
 five hundred and seventy-three, the number assigned to 
 it in the hydrographical survey, and the only name by 
 which it was known. But, in the course of these ten 
 years, a vast variety of changes have taken place, and 
 a more accurate chart has become highly desirable. 
 
 A traveller on the Mississippi has little to record in the 
 way of incident. For a week we continued our course, 
 stopping only to take in wood, and, on one occasion, to 
 take in cargo, at an inconsiderable place called Memphis, 
 which stands on one of the few bluffs we encountered 
 in our progress. At length, we reached Natchez, a town 
 of some importance in the State of Mississippi. We 
 only halted there for an hour, and the upper town, which 
 stands on a height at some distance, I did not see. But 
 the place was described by the passengers as being the 
 scene of the most open and undisguised profligacy. All 
 I observed in the lower town, certainly gave me no rea- 
 son to doubt the accuracy of the description. Taverns 
 full of men and women of the most abandoned habits, 
 dancing, drinking, and uttering the most obscene lan- 
 guage, were open to the street. I was advised not to 
 walk to any distance from the landing-place, for the risk 
 of being robbed was considerable. I did, however, at- 
 tempt to reach the upper town, about a mile off, but the 
 bell announcing preparation for departure arrested my 
 progress. 
 
 One of the most striking circumstances connected with 
 this river voyage, was the rapid change of climate. Bare- 
 ly ten days had elapsed since I was traversing mountains 
 almost impassable from snow. Even the level country 
 was partially covered with it, and the approach of spring 
 had not been heralded by any symptom of vegetation. 
 Yet, in little more than a week, I found myself in the re- 
 gion of the sugar cane! 
 
 The progress of this transition was remarkable. During 
 the first two days of the voyage, nothing like a blossom 
 or a green leaf was to be seen. On the third slight signs 
 of vegetation were visible on a few of the hardier trees. 
 These gradually became more general as we approached 
 the Mississippi; but then, though our course lay almost 
 due south, little change was apparent for a day or two. 
 But after passing Memphis, in latitude 35, all nature
 
 NEW ORLEANS. 309 
 
 became alive. The trees which grew on any little emi- 
 nence, or which did not spring immediately from the 
 swamp, were covered with foliage : and at our wooding 
 times, when I rambled through the woods, there were a 
 thousand shrubs already bursting into flower. On reach- 
 ing the lower regions of the Mississippi, all was bright- 
 ness and verdure. Summer had already begun, and the 
 heat was even disagreeably intense. 
 
 Shortly after entering Louisiana, the whole wildness 
 of the Mississippi disappears. The banks are all culti- 
 vated, and nothing was to be seen but plantations of su- 
 gar, cotton, and rice, with the houses of their owners, 
 and the little adjoining hamlets inhabited by the slaves. 
 Here and there were orchards of orange trees, but these 
 occurred too seldom to have much influence on the land- 
 scape. 
 
 At Baton Rouge, a fort of some strength, which com- 
 mands the navigation of the river, we discharged a ma- 
 jor and a few private soldiers of the United States army, 
 and on the following evening I found myself at New Or- 
 leans. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 NEW ORLEANS. 
 
 I LANDED at New Orleans on the 22d of March. The 
 day had been one of heavy rain, and the appearance of 
 the city was by no means prepossessing. The streets, 
 being generally unpaved, were full of mud; and a dense 
 canopy of mist shed a gloom on every thing. 
 
 We had some difficulty in finding accommodation. The 
 principal hotel is that of Madame Herries, but the house 
 was already full. We tried three others with no better 
 success, and the streets of New Orleans are, perhaps, the 
 last in the world in which a gentleman would choose to 
 take up his night's lodging. At length, the keeper of a 
 boarding-house took compassion on our forlorn condition. 
 There was an uninhabited house, she said, in an adjoin-
 
 310 CONDITION OF THE STREETS. 
 
 ing street, in which she thought she could prevail on the 
 proprietor to furnish us with apartments, and, at meals, 
 we might join the party in her establishment. 
 
 And so it was arranged. The rooms were bad, and 
 wretchedly furnished, but they were quiet, and we had 
 an old and ugly female slave to wait on us. This wo- 
 man was in character something like 'the withered hags 
 who are so finely introduced in the Bride of Lammer- 
 moor. During my stay, I tried every means to extract 
 a smile from her, but without success. I gave her mo- 
 ney, but that would not do; and wine, of which, on one 
 occasion she drank two tumblers, with no better effect. 
 By way of recommending the lodgings, she told me three 
 gentlemen had died in them during the last autumn of 
 yellow fever. " Two were Englishmen," she added, 
 " and she herself had laid out their corpses on that very 
 table !" In short, though she did not often choose to con- 
 verse, whenever the fit was on her, she displayed great 
 tact and discrimination in the selection of topics. 
 
 The morning after my arrival was bright and beautiful, 
 and I sallied forth to 
 
 -" view the manners of the town, 
 
 Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, 
 And wander up and down to view the city. 
 
 It would be absurd to call New Orleans a handsome city. 
 It is not so. The streets are generally narrow, and al- 
 ways filthy; and with the exception 'of the cathedral, 
 there are no public buildings of any magnitude. But 
 in comparison with such cities as those to which I had 
 been accustomed in the United States, the general aspect 
 of New Orleans may be called picturesque. The archi- 
 tecture of the older sections of the city is Spanish, and 
 when Louisiana came into possession of France, the ori- 
 ginal taste in building seems still to have predominated. 
 The houses are generally of one story, and the principal 
 apartment opens at once on the street. They are built 
 of wood, but here and there edifices of greater preten- 
 sion, covered with stucco, and adorned with verandas, 
 give something of pleasing variety. 
 
 In this quarter of the city reside the French and Spa- 
 nish portion of the population; that occupied by the An-
 
 CHARACTER OF NEW ORLEANS. 31 J 
 
 glo-Americans, has no attraction of any kind. The 
 streets are wider, but unpaved; the houses larger, but 
 bare and unseemly, and their internal superiority of com- 
 fort has been gained at the expense of external effect. 
 
 The condition of the streets in the greater part of New- 
 Orleans, is, indeed, an absolute nuisance. There are 
 brick trottoirs, but the carriage-way is left in a state of 
 nature. The consequence is, that after rain and the 
 climate is particularly humid the centre of the street 
 is at least a foot thick of mud, through which, foot-pas- 
 sengers, when desirous of crossing, must either wade 
 up to their knees, or set off on a wild goose chase after 
 stepping-stones, perhaps a mile distant, which may ena- 
 ble them if they can jump like a kangaroo to get 
 over dry-shod. 
 
 In other respects, I must say New Orleans is not an 
 uncomfortable place. The American hotels are bad, but 
 there is an admirable French restaurateur, whose esta- 
 blishment is conducted in a style far superior to any 
 thing I had seen in the United States. When not other- 
 wise engaged, I generally dined there, either alone, or 
 with a companion, instead of scrambling at the public 
 table of the boarding-house. 
 
 There is an old proverb, " give a dog a bad name and 
 hang him." The proverb is as applicable to cities as to 
 dogs, and, unfortunately, New Orleans has got a bad 
 name. I have nothing to say which can make it any 
 worse, and, perhaps, not much which would induce a 
 very rigid moralist to delay execution. But I can bear 
 witness that New Orleans contains a very well-bred and 
 hospitable circle, where a traveller will meet more easy 
 politeness than in most cities of the Union. 
 
 Both the language and manners are French. Few of 
 the Creole ladies can speak English, and still fewer of 
 the slaves. The latter jabber a sort of patois unlike any 
 thing I ever heard in France, though my intercourse with 
 the French peasantry has been tolerably extensive. 
 
 The situation of New Orleans is admirably adapted 
 for commerce. It is and must be the great port of the 
 south, as New York is of the north and centre of the 
 Union. The Western States enjoy a ready communi- 
 cation with both; with the former, by the Ohio and Mis-
 
 312 LEGISLATURE, 
 
 sissippi; with the latter, by means of canals which now 
 connect the Ohio with Lake Erie, and Lake Erie with 
 the Hudson. The city stands on a bed of alluvium on 
 the eastern bank of the Mississippi, about a hundred and 
 twenty miles from the sea. It's population is about fifty 
 thousand, and the number of slaves is very great. 
 
 I fear the standard of morals in New Orleans cannot 
 be rated very high. Yet in no city are the externals of 
 decorum more rigidly maintained. The eye is never 
 shocked by any public display of indecency; and the 
 coloured women, whatever may be their laxity of prin- 
 ciple, are careful to maintain at least the outward sem- 
 blance of virtue. I had heard a great deal of the beauty 
 of these persons, but cannot profess having been at all 
 smitten with their charms. One often meets a fine 
 figure among them, but rarely a fine countenance. The 
 skin is dingy, and the features are coarse. Something 
 of the negro always remains the long heel the woolly 
 hair the flat nose the thick lips or the peculiar form 
 of the head. 
 
 The Creole ladiep, on the other hand, certainly struck 
 me as handsome. They, too, are dark, but their com- 
 plexion is clear, not clouded, like that of the Quadroons. 
 Their figure is light and graceful, and with fine teeth, 
 and an eye, large, dark, and bright, they must be ad- 
 mitted to possess quite as much attraction as the New 
 Orleans gentlemen deserve. The effects of this ener- 
 vating climate, however, are visible enough. The Creole 
 ladies speak with a sort of languid drawl; their motions 
 want energy and briskness, and the efficacy of their 
 charms might, perhaps, be increased by a little more 
 animation. 
 
 During my stay at New Orleans the legislature was in 
 session, and I occasionally visited both houses. The 
 mode of proceeding struck me as curious. The Creoles 
 speak French, and the Americans English, neither un- 
 derstanding the language of the other. Whenever a 
 speech is concluded, an interpreter gives as perfect a 
 version of it as his memory can command. The time 
 thus lost is enormous under any circumstances, but when 
 the debate becomes personal, it has at least the advantage 
 of giving members time to cool.
 
 THEATRES CHURCHES. 313 
 
 On one occasion, however, the discussion was con- 
 ducted with a good deal of acrimony, and the scene he- 
 came ludicrous enough. A French gentleman, when I 
 entered the house, was delivering an energetic oration, 
 impugning both the conduct and motives of an American. 
 The latter during the whole time remained apparently 
 in happy ignorance, both of the nature and extent of the 
 punishment of which he was the object. 
 
 At length the honourable gentleman sat down, and 
 the chief heads of his speech and arguments were de- 
 tailed in English by the interpreter. The American 
 then became, as they say in Scotland, " neither to hold 
 nor to bind." He instantly commenced not only a ve- 
 hement defence of himself, but an attack on his opponent, 
 in a language of which the latter seemed to understand 
 precisely as much as he did of Sanscrit. In short, I know 
 of no body to whom the gift of tongues could be so use- 
 ful as the legislature of Louisiana. 
 
 There is a French and an English theatre in New 
 Orleans. The former is tenanted by a very tolerable set 
 of comedians, who play musical pieces and Vaudevilles 
 with a great deal of spirit. The company of the English 
 theatre was altogether wretched. 1 saw Damon and 
 Pythias represented to a full house. Damon was so 
 drunk that he could scarcely stand, and Pythias displayed 
 his friendship in assisting him off the stage. 
 
 As in most Catholic countries, Sunday is the great day 
 for amusements of every kind. The shops are open; the 
 market displays unusual attractions, and the sounds of 
 merriment and music are heard in every street. In the 
 morning, three-fourths of the population run to hear 
 mass, and the cathedral is crowded by people of all co- 
 lours, in their best and gayest attire. In a European 
 city the cathedral would probably pass without notice. 
 In New Orleans it is a prominent object. As a building, 
 it is full of inconsistencies, and the interior presents no- 
 thing to arrest the attention. The decorations of the 
 altars are gewgaw enough, and there is no sculpture. 
 
 Both Catholic and Protestant agree in the tenet that 
 all men are equal in the sight of God, but the former 
 alone gives practical exemplification of his creed. In a 
 Catholic church the prince and the peasant, the slave and 
 
 40
 
 314 CATHOLIC PRIESTS. 
 
 his master, kneel before the same altar, in temporary ob- 
 livion of all worldly distinctions. They come there but 
 in one character, that of sinners; and no rank is felt or ac- 
 knowledged but that connected with the offices of religion. 
 Within these sacred precincts the vanity of the rich man 
 receives no incense; the proud are not flattered, the hum- 
 ble are not abashed. The stamp of degradation is oblite- 
 rated from the forehead of the slave, when he beholds 
 himself admitted to community of worship with the 
 highest and noblest in the land. 
 
 But in Protestant churches a different rule prevails. 
 People of colour are either excluded altogether, or are 
 mewed up in some remote corner, separated by barriers 
 from the body of the church. It is impossible to forget 
 their degraded condition even for a moment. It is 
 brought home to their feelings in a thousand ways. No 
 white Protestant would kneel at the same altar with a 
 black one. He asserts his superiority every where, and 
 the very hue of his religion is affected by the colour of 
 his skin. 
 
 From the hands of the Catholic priest, the poor slave 
 receives all the consolations of religion. He is visited 
 in sickness, and consoled in affliction; his dying lips re- 
 ceive the consecrated wafer; and in the very death-agony, 
 the last voice that meets his ear is that of his priest ut- 
 tering the sublime words, "Depart, Christian soul." 
 Can it be wondered, therefore, that the slaves in Louis- 
 iana are all Catholics; that while the congregation of the 
 Protestant church consists of a few ladies, arranged in 
 well-cushioned pews, the whole floor of the extensive 
 cathedral should be crowded with worshippers of all co- 
 lours and classes? 
 
 From all I could learn, the zeal of the Catholic priests 
 is highly exemplary. They never forget that the most 
 degraded of human forms is animated by a soul, as pre- 
 cious in the eye of religion, as that of the sovereign Pon- 
 tiff The arms of the church are never closed against 
 the meanest outcast of society. Divesting themselves of 
 all pride of caste, they mingle with the slaves, and cer- 
 tainly understand their character far better than any 
 other body of religious teachers. I am not a Catholic, 
 but I cannot suffer prejudice of any sort to prevent my
 
 YELLOW FEVER. 315 
 
 doing justice to a body of Christian ministers, whose zeal 
 can be animated by no hope of worldly reward, and 
 whose humble lives are passed in diffusing the influence 
 of divine truth, and communicating to the meanest and 
 most despised of mankind the blessed comforts of religion. 
 These men publish no periodical enumeration of their 
 converts. The amount, and the success of their silent 
 labours, is not illustrated in the blazon of missionary soci- 
 eties, nor are they rhetorically set forth in the annual 
 speeches of Lord Roden or Lord Bexley. And yet we 
 may surely assert, that not the least of these labours is 
 forgotten. Their record is, where their reward will be. 
 
 New Orleans and yellow fever are as inseparably con- 
 nected as ham and chicken, and the writer who records 
 his impressions of the one, is expected to say something 
 of the other. I believe at no season of the year is New 
 Orleans a healthy place of residence. The exhalations 
 from the Mississippi, and the vast swamps by which it is 
 surrounded, taint the atmosphere continually, and the 
 variation at different seasons is only in degree. Even in 
 March the air of New Orleans is manifestly unhealthy. 
 It is sometimes so thick and impregnated with vapour, 
 that the lungs play with difficulty, and the effect of such 
 weather on the animal economy is very perceptible. The 
 skin is clammy even in repose, and the slightest exertion 
 brings on profuse perspiration. For myself, I could not 
 walk a quarter of a mile without feeling a degree of las- 
 situde to which I had never been accustomed. The re- 
 source under such circumstances is generous diet and a 
 sofa, but the only absolute cure is a brisk north-wester, 
 which, by clearing off the impurities of the atmosphere, 
 at once restores the patient to his natural functions. 
 
 It is not, however, till the heats of summer are con- 
 siderably advanced, that the yellow fever appears in its 
 terrors. It comes in silence, and steals, as it were, una- 
 wares into the city. The sky is bright, and the wea- 
 ther beautiful. The city is reported healthy, and busi- 
 siness and pleasure proceed with accelerated impulse. 
 In such circumstances, a report probably spreads, that a 
 sailor on board of one of the vessels at the river, has been 
 stricken with this fearful malady. On the following day, 
 the rumour of fresh cases becomes prevalent, but the in*-
 
 316 MODE OF BURIAL. 
 
 habitants comfort themselves that these have been ex- 
 clusively confined to the shipping. Even of this consola- 
 tion, however, they are shortly deprived. The disease 
 appears simultaneously in various quarters of the city, 
 through which it stalks like a destroying angel, spreading 
 havoc and desolation. 
 
 The Creoles are entirely exempt from its ravages. 
 The chief victims are Europeans, and natives of the 
 .Northern States. Of these, not one in twenty escapes 
 attack; and of those attacked, not above two-thirds sur- 
 vive. The latter are then considered to be what is called 
 " acclimated," and are not liable to a recurrence of the 
 disease, unless their constitution be again changed by a 
 residence in a colder climate. 
 
 One of the curiosities which all strangers should see 
 and which too many of them visit without seeing is the 
 public burying-ground, about half a mile from the city. 
 
 It is simply a portion of the surrounding swamp, and, 
 though very extensive, is not found too large for the 
 wants of the population. There are always some twenty 
 or thirty graves, of different sizes, kept open on specula- 
 tion; so that there is no doubt of any gentleman, who 
 chooses to die in a hurry, finding accommodation at the 
 shortest notice. One acquires from habit a sort of lurk- 
 ing prejudice in favour of being buried in dry ground, 
 which is called into full action by a sight of this New 
 Orleans cemetery. The spade cannot penetrate even a 
 few inches below the surface, without finding water, and 
 considerable difficulty is experienced in sinking the cof- 
 fins, since the whole neighbourhood could not furnish a 
 stone the size of an orange. 
 
 Such a disposal of the dead may more properly be 
 termed inundation than interment, and there is something 
 so offensive to the imagination in the whole process, and 
 in the idea of being devoured by the craw-fish, which bur- 
 row in myriads, that the richer people generally prefer 
 being kept above the level, both of ground and water, in 
 little buildings like ovens, composed of brick and plaster, 
 without ornament of any sort. Altogether, those who are 
 content to live in New Orleans, may be content to be bu- 
 ried there when they die. I confess my own inclination 
 prompted me to neither, and I quitted the cemetery with 
 the firm resolution of never eating another craw-fish, with
 
 SLAVE AUCTION. 317 
 
 whatever attractions the skill of the cook may have in- 
 vested it. 
 
 There are slave auctions almost every day in the New 
 Orleans Exchange. I was frequently present, at these, 
 and the man who wants an excuse for misanthropy, will 
 nowhere discover better reason for hating and despising 
 his species. The usual process differs in nothing from that 
 of selling a horse. The poor object of traffic is mounted 
 on a table; intending purchasers examine his points, and 
 put questions as to his age, health, &c. The auctioneer 
 dilates on his value, enumerates his accomplishments, and 
 when the hammer at length falls, protests, in the usual 
 phrase, that poor Sambo has been absolutely thrown 
 away. When a woman is sold, he usually puts his audi- 
 ence in good humour by a few indecent jokes. 
 
 One of the first human beings whom I happened to see 
 thus sold was a poor woman, apparently dying of a con- 
 sumption. She was emaciated, her voice was husky and 
 feeble, and her proper place was, evidently, the hospi- 
 tal. It was with difficulty she was raised upon the table, 
 " Now, gentlemen, here is Mary !" said the auctioneer ; 
 " a clever house-servant and an excellent cook. Bid me 
 something for this valuable lot. She has only one fault, 
 gentlemen, and that is shamming sick. She pretends to 
 be ill, but there is nothing more the matter with her than 
 there is with me at this moment. Put her up, gentle- 
 men shall I say a hundred dollars to begin with 1 Will 
 nobody say a hundred dollars for Mary, a clever servant 
 and excellent cook? Thank you, sir, fifty well, fifty 
 dollars is bid for her." Here the auctioneer stopped for 
 a minute or two, while several men began feeling the 
 poor woman's ribs, and putting questions as to her health. 
 
 ' Are you well?" asked one man. 
 
 ' Oh, no, I am very ill." 
 
 ' What is the matter with you ?" 
 
 ' I have a bad cough and pain in my side." 
 
 ' How long have you had it ?" 
 
 ' Three months and more." 
 
 Here the auctioneer, finding such interrogatories did 
 not tend to enhance the value of the lot, again went on. 
 " Never mind what she says, gentlemen, I told you she 
 was a shammer. Her health is good enough. Damn her 
 humbug. Give her a touch or two of the cow-hide, and
 
 318 SLAVERY. 
 
 I'll warrant she'll do your work. Speak, gentlemen, be- 
 fore I knock her down. Seventy dollars only, bid, go- 
 ing, going, going, gone !" The sale concluded amid sun- 
 dry jests at the expense of the purchaser. "A bloody 
 good lot of skin and bone," said one. " I guess that 'ere 
 woman will soon be food for the land-crabs," said another ; 
 and amid such atrocious merriment the poor dying crea- 
 ture was led off 
 
 If such scenes are acted in a Christian country, it is the 
 duty of every traveller to take care, at least, that they 
 shall not be done in a corner, that they shall be pro- 
 claimed loudly to the world, and that those who perpe- 
 trate the enormities shall receive their due meed of in- 
 dignation and contempt. 
 
 The time is past when it was necessary to write whole 
 volumes, in illustration of the evils and injustice of sla- 
 very. These are now admitted and confessed by every 
 one. They are so great as to admit of no exaggeration 
 by eloquence, nor of palliation or concealment by sophis- 
 try. Public opinion in England requires no stimulus. 
 
 I feel anxious, that writing on this subject I should be 
 clearly understood. It may not be a crime it, proba- 
 bly, ought not to be charged as one in the American 
 people, that slavery still exists in by far the larger por- 
 tion of the territory of the Union. But now when the 
 United States have enjoyed upwards of half a century 
 of almost unbroken prosperity, when their people, as 
 they themselves declare, are the most moral, the most 
 benevolent, the most enlightened in the world, we are 
 surely entitled to demand, what have this people done 
 for the mitigation of slavery? what have they done to 
 elevate the slave in the scale of moral and intellectual 
 being, and to prepare him for the enjoyment of those 
 privileges to which, sooner or later, the coloured popu- 
 lation must be admitted? 
 
 The answer to these questions unfortunately may be 
 comprised in one word NOTHING. Nothing during all 
 this period has been done to raise the slave to the digni- 
 ty of a rational and responsible being, or to mitigate the 
 horrors of his servitude; nothing for the subversion of 
 ignorant and degrading prejudice; nothing to remove 
 from themselves and their posterity the reproach of a 
 system which withers up all the better sympathies of
 
 SLAVERY. 319 
 
 our nature. The voice of justice and humanity has 
 been raised in vain; and it may safely be predicted, that 
 while the progress of intelligence is confessedly incom- 
 patible with slavery, its last stronghold will be found, 
 not in Portugal not in Turkey or Algiers but in the 
 United States. 
 
 It is true, indeed, that slavery has been abolished in 
 many States of the Union, and that in others recently 
 established it has never existed. Let the merit what- 
 ever be its amount of an enlightened appreciation of 
 their own interests, be at once freely conceded to these 
 States. Still, it cannot be denied, that slavery has only 
 ceased in those portions of the Union, in which it was 
 practically found to be a burden on the industry and re- 
 sources of the country. Wherever it was found profit- 
 able, there it has remained; there it is to be found at 
 the present day, in all its pristine and unmitigated fero- 
 city. Where its abolition involved no sacrifice, slavery 
 has disappeared; but wherever justice was to be done at 
 the expense of the pocket, the nuisance, so far from be- 
 ing abated, has gone on increasing, and has become root- 
 ed more widely and more deeply in the passions and pre- 
 judices of the people. 
 
 I have said, that the abolition of slavery in the Nor- 
 thern, and some of the Central States, has involved no 
 sacrifice. Let me explain this. When Pennsylvania, 
 for instance, abolished slavery, she passed an act, that, 
 after a certain number of years all the slaves within her 
 territory should be manumitted. What was the conse- 
 quence? Why, that the great body of the slaves belong- 
 ing to Pennsylvanian proprietors were in the mean time 
 exported and sold in other States, and when the day of 
 liberation came, those who actually profited by it, were 
 something like the patients who visited the pool of Be- 
 thesda, the blind, the halt, the maimed, the decrepit, 
 whom it really required no great exercise of generosity 
 to turn about their business, with an injunction to pro- 
 vide thereafter for their own maintenance. 
 
 I admit that the question of the abolition of slavery in 
 the United States, is involved in peculiar difficulties, 
 nor do I pretend to suggest any project by which it may 
 be safely, and even remotely effected. But there are
 
 320 RESULTS OF SLAVERY. 
 
 some crying evils on which immediate legislation is im- 
 periously demanded. The first of these is undoubtedly 
 the slave trade. 
 
 When I speak of the slave trade, I do not allude to 
 the importation of slaves from abroad, but to the inter- 
 nal traffic which is carried on between the different 
 States. Some of these, in which the climate is healthy, 
 and the cultivation of the soil easy, are slave-breeders; not 
 for their own consumption only, but for that of others, 
 in which the climate is deadly and the labour severe. 
 The cultivation of sugar in Louisiana, for instance, is 
 carried on at an enormous expense of human life. Plan- 
 ters must buy to keep up their stock, and this supply 
 principally comes from Maryland, Virginia, and North 
 Carolina. On my return from New Orleans, by the 
 coast, I met a whole drove of these miserable creatures, 
 chained together like felons, and driven on like brute 
 beasts by the lash. In God's name let this unhallowed 
 traffic be put a stop to. Let not men's eyes be shocked 
 by sights so atrocious. Let not one state furnish mate- 
 rials for the cruelties of another, and by a system of wise 
 legislation let humanity be made the interest, as it is the 
 duty, of all. 
 
 It would be difficult to decide whether slavery is most 
 to be lamented for the injustice perpetrated towards those 
 who are its victims, or for its depraving influence on the 
 class by whom that injustice is inflicted. The question 
 must be decided by nicer casuists than I pretend to be. 
 But sure I am that the evils of this detestable system cannot 
 be exaggerated by the most fervid imagination. It will 
 scarcely be believed, that in the United States it is com- 
 mon for fathers to sell their children, for sons to sell their 
 brothers and their sisters ; and that atrocities so heinous 
 are unvisited by public indignation or contempt. And 
 yet it is so. The smallest infusion of negro blood is held 
 to abrogate, not only the charities of life, but the lies of 
 nature. I will not enlarge on this subject. It is too 
 hateful and too odious. But in the name of consistency 
 and common sense, either let such enormities cease to be 
 perpetrated in the United States, or let the word morality 
 be at once erased from the American vocabulary. 
 
 I did intend to have made some observations on the sa-
 
 FEELING IN REGARD TO SLAVERY. 331 
 
 vage character of the slave codes of the different States, 
 but I write for the British public, and the task has become 
 unnecessary. Still, I would earnestly call on every Eng- 
 lishman who has partaken in the delusion that the aboli- 
 tion, or even the mitigation of slavery, may be safely 
 trusted to the humanity of those whose immediate inter- 
 ests are connected with its continuance, to look to the 
 condition of the slaves in the United States. I again re- 
 peat, that I do not charge it as a reproach on the inhabit- 
 ants that slavery should still exist in their territory, but 
 I own I do consider it as involving national disgrace, that 
 during half a century no steps have been taken, I will not 
 say for its abolition, but even for its mitigation. At the 
 present hour, slavery is seen in the United States, decked 
 out in every horrible attribute with which the imagina- 
 tion of man ever invested it. And, after all, it is perhaps 
 better for the ultimate interests of humanity that it should 
 be so. It is better that the front of the image should be 
 of brass, while its feet are of clay. To suppose that sla- 
 very can long continue in this country when other nations 
 shall have freed themselves from the foulest stain which 
 has ever polluted their humanity, is to contemplate a pe- 
 riod when the United States will become a nuisance upon 
 earth, and an object of hatred and derision to the whole 
 world. 
 
 It is only fair to state that, during the whole course of 
 my tour, I never conversed with any American on the 
 subject of slavery without his at once admitting the mag- 
 nitude of the evil. The planters uniformly speak of it as 
 a noxious exhalation, by which the whole atmosphere is 
 poisoned. " Yet what is to be done 1" they ask. " You 
 express yourself shocked by the existence of slavery; have 
 you formed any plan for its abolition ? Can you see even 
 a glimmering of light through the darkness by which this 
 awful subject is surrounded 1 At all events, do not sup- 
 pose that we maintain slavery in our territory from choice. 
 Far from it. We regard those States where this curse is 
 unknown with envy. We would gladly become as they 
 are, but cannot. We are slave-holders by compulsion 
 alone. As such, let us be treated with candour and fair- 
 ness. If you can suggest any remedy, we shall be glad 
 to hear it; if you cannot, cease to inveigh against an in- 
 
 41
 
 322 CONSEQUENCES OF ABOLITION. 
 
 evilable evil, for which the collective wisdom of mankind 
 has yet discovered no cure." 
 
 There is much that is reasonable in all this, mixed up 
 with a little misrepresentation, and as few men travel 
 about with a plan for the abolition of American slavery, 
 cut and dry in their pocket, it no doubt acts in conversa- 
 tion as a convenient stopper on a great deal of froth, 
 which might otherwise be discharged on so tempting a 
 subject. But though it be unquestionably true that the 
 slave-holders are in favour of abolition, it is abolition of 
 a peculiar kind, which must be at once cheap and profita- 
 ble; which shall peril no interest, and offend no preju- 
 dice; and which, in liberating the slave, shall enrich his 
 master. It is needless to say, that the dream of Alnas- 
 char, in the Arabian nights, pictured nothing more vision- 
 ary than such an abolition. Let slavery be abolished when 
 it will, and how it will, by slow degrees, or by one 
 sweeping and decisive measure of emancipation, the im- 
 mediate interests of the planters must be injuriously af- 
 fected. By no process can the injustice of centuries be 
 repaired without sacrifice; and the longer this reparation 
 is delayed, the sacrifice demanded will be greater. 
 
 The cessation of slavery must put a stop to the culti- 
 vation both of sugar and rice in the United States, and 
 the compulsion of which the planters speak, is the com- 
 pulsion of money. Large tracts of the Southern States 
 will be thrown out of cultivation. Two-thirds of their 
 population will probably migrate to the West, since the 
 cultivation of cotton, the great staple, must, of course, 
 be limited by the demands of the market, which can 
 only receive considerable increase from improvements in 
 the process of manufacture. 
 
 That the United States, as a nation, would be prodi- 
 giously benefited by the abolition of slavery, there can be 
 no doubt; but that the pecuniary interests of the planters 
 is decidedly opposed to it, is, at least, equally clear. 
 How long these men can hold out against nature, reli- 
 gion, and the common sympathies of mankind, it is im- 
 possible to foresee. My own conviction is, that slavery in 
 this country can only be eradicated by some great and 
 terrible convulsion. The sword is evidently suspended ; 
 it will fall at last.
 
 PROCESS OF SUGAR CULTIVATION. 323 
 
 From New Orleans I made a pleasant excursion to a 
 sugar plantation, about eight or ten miles distant. The 
 road lay along the margin of the river, which is pre- 
 vented from inundating the country by embankment. 
 Through this barrier, however, it often forces its way, by 
 what are called crevasses, or small fissures, generally oc- 
 casioned, I believe, by the burrowing of craw-fish or wa- 
 ter-rats. These fissures, by the pressure of the water, 
 soon become formidable outlets; and the whole country, 
 for miles, is sometimes overflowed to the depth of several 
 feet. The Mississippi, too, occasionally overflows its 
 banks, though not often, I believe, to such extent as to 
 occasion serious damage to the neighbouring plantations. 
 
 The country is, in general, cultivated to the distance 
 of about half a mile from the river, and on these rich al- 
 luvial bottoms are the sugar plantations. That which I 
 visited, though not one of the largest, was extensive. 
 The family were of French origin, and few of its mem- 
 bers could speak English. The proprietor took me over 
 the sugar works, and I looked into the huts of his ne- 
 groes who were then in the field. He gave me full de- 
 tails of the whole process of sugar cultivation, which he 
 confessed was only carried on at an appalling sacrifice of 
 life. At the season when the canes are cut and the boil- 
 ers at work, the slaves are compelled to undergo inces- 
 sant labour for about six weeks. The fatigue is so great, 
 that nothing but the severest application of the lash can 
 stimulate the human frame to endure it, and the sugar 
 season is uniformly followed by a great increase of mor- 
 tality among the slaves. 
 
 The climate of Louisiana is not happily adapted for 
 sugar cultivation. It is too variable, and frosts often 
 come on in November, which destroy the whole saccha- 
 rine matter of the canes. This had happened the sea- 
 son before my visit, and I saw the canes of nearly half 
 the estate rotting on the ground. The crop, in Louisia- 
 na, is never considered safe till it is in the mill, and the 
 consequence is, that when cutting once begins, the slaves 
 are taxed beyond their strength, and are goaded to la- 
 bour, until nature absolutely sinks under the effort. 
 
 The poverty of the planters, too, generally prevents 
 there being a sufficient stock of slaves on the estates; and
 
 324 DELTA OP THE MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 where a plantation which requires two hundred and fifty 
 slaves, is cultivated only by two hundred, it is very evi- 
 dent that the necessary work will not only be done 
 worse, but that it will be done at a greatly increased ex- 
 penditure of human life. Thus the tendency of the slave 
 population in Louisiana is to diminish, and, but for im- 
 portations from the northern slave States, would, under 
 the present system, become extinct. 
 
 I passed a day and night with my hospitable enter- 
 tainers, to whose kindness I felt much indebted. It is 
 the fashion in this country to appoint a servant to attend 
 upon the guests. When I retired for the night, I ob- 
 served a very nice-looking black boy, who, after setting 
 down my candle and adjusting the pillows of the bed, 
 still remained standing right opposite to me when I began 
 to undress. I bade him good-night, but he still showed 
 no inclination to move. I then asked why he remained, 
 and gathered from his reply that it is by no means usual in 
 this country for a white person to perform any office for 
 himself which can be performed by deputy. The boy said 
 he thought I should like some one to assist me to undress, 
 but I assured him I had no occasion for his services in 
 any capacity, except that of brushing my clothes in the 
 morning. He then took leave, though, evidently, not 
 without some surprise that a white gentleman should, 
 under any circumstances, condescend to pull off his own 
 stockings, and put on his nightcap. It must certainly be 
 ranked among the minor evils of slavery, that it destroys 
 all personal independence, and attaches something of dis- 
 grace to the discharge of the most ordinary functions. 
 
 Before quitting New Orleans I made a trip to visit the 
 Delta of the Mississippi, in one of the steamers employed 
 in towing vessels to and fr6m the mouth of the river. 
 Though with three large vessels attached, our bark 
 made good way under the co-operative influences of 
 steam and stream. About seven miles below the city is 
 the field of battle. It is a plain about half a mile in 
 breadth, bounded by the Mississippi on one side, and the 
 forest on the other. Below is a bend of the river, which, 
 from what reason I know not, is called " The English 
 Turn." Plantations continue at intervals for about forty 
 miles, when cultivation entirely ceases.
 
 FORMATION OF LAND. 335 
 
 Below this, nature is to be seen only in her dreariest 
 and most desolate aspect. At first there are forests 
 springing in rank luxuriance from swamps, impassible 
 even by the foot of the Indian hunter. But these soon 
 pass, and nothing but interminable cane brakes are to be 
 seen on either side. From the shrouds of the steam-boat, 
 though the range of vision probably extended for many 
 leagues, no other objects were discernible but the broad 
 muddy river, with its vast masses of drift-wood, and the 
 wilderness of gigantic bulrushes shaking in the wind. 
 
 There are four passes or outlets by which the Missis- 
 sippi discharges its mighty burden into the Gulf of Mex- 
 ico. Two of these are navigable, but changes are ever 
 taking place, and the passage formerly preferred by the 
 pilots, is now rarely attempted even by vessels of the 
 smallest class. On approaching the Gulf, verdure ap- 
 pears only at intervals, and the eye rests on tracts of 
 mere mud, formed by the deposite of the river on the drift 
 wood which some obstacle has arrested in its passage to 
 the ocean. It is by this process that land is formed, and 
 it may be traced in every step of its progress, from the 
 island resting on a few logs, up to the huge tract in whose 
 bosom are embedded many millions. Encountering no 
 obstacle, the river sends out arms in every direction, 
 which, after winding through the half-formed region in 
 a thousand fantastic flexures, are again united to the 
 main branches. 
 
 It would be difficult to convey an idea by words, of the 
 effect which this most dismal scene produces on the heart 
 and imagination of the spectator. It seems as if the 
 process of creation were incomplete, and the earth yet 
 undivided from the waters, for he beholds only an inde- 
 terminate mass which admits of being absolutely assigned 
 to neither element. He feels that he has forsaken the 
 regions of the habitable world. Above, beneath, around, 
 there is nothing to excite his sympathies, and, probably, 
 for the first time in his life, he becomes conscious of the 
 full sublimity of desolation. 
 
 The steamer having towed her burden safely across 
 the bar, took up several inward bound vessels, and com- 
 menced her voyage back to the city. I felt it absolute- 
 ly a relief when my eye again rested on the deep sha-
 
 326 LAKE PONTCHARTRAIN. 
 
 dows of the forest. Then came the dwellings of man. 
 Never had the smoke, which rose in spiral wreaths 
 above the masses of foliage, appeared so beautiful. 
 Even New Orleans seemed to have lost something of its 
 dinginess, when, after a three days' voyage, I found my- 
 self comfortably seated at the French restaurateur's, and 
 saw the waiter enter with a most tempting dish of bec- 
 caficas, or some bird very much like them, and very 
 nearly as good. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 JOURNEY TO CHARLESTON. 
 
 ON the evening of the 10th of April, I bade farewell 
 to New Orleans, and embarked on the canal which con- 
 nects the. city with the Bayou St. John. These bayous 
 are sluggish creeks which alternately supply nourishment 
 to the Mississippi, and ease it of its load. When the river 
 is in flood, the bayous which intersect the whole coun- 
 try, act as safety-valves, and prevent a general inunda- 
 tion. When it is low, they restore a portion of their wa- 
 ters, and thus contribute to equalize the volume of the 
 river at different seasons. 
 
 The Bayou St. John has all the appearance of a canal. 
 Its course leads through a swamp covered with cedars, 
 and other trees which delight in exuberant moisture.' It 
 was dark when we reached Lake Pontchartrain, and the 
 steamer lay at anchor at some distance from the shore. 
 As it did not sail till the following morning, I should pro- 
 bably have slept at the inn had its appearance been at 
 all inviting. But there was a large party carousing at 
 the bar, and its pretensions were simply those of a pot- 
 house. I, therefore; determined to embark immediately, 
 though the night was dark, and the wind unusually high. 
 
 It may appear ridiculous to talk of a storm on a lake 
 some forty or fifty miles long, and not more than two or 
 three in breadth. But the tempestas in matula if so it
 
 PASSAMAGOULA. 327 
 
 must be called was exceedingly disagreeable, and be 
 fore we reached the vessel, our boat was nearly full of 
 water. Both the constitution and equanimity of a tra- 
 veller should be robust enough to stand an occasional 
 drenching without injury or disturbance; but to have 
 your whole baggage saturated with water, your books, 
 papers, and other perishable valuables, seriously da- 
 maged, if not entirely destroyed, is apt to produce an 
 elongation of visage in a more philosophical tourist than 
 myself. 
 
 At all events it was in such pickle that I reached the 
 steam-boat. The more immediate and personal conse- 
 quences of the misfortune were obviated by the exhibition 
 of a cigar, and a glass of the truly American catholicon, 
 brandy and water; and on the following morning my 
 whole chattels were spread out to dry on the deck, ap- 
 parently to the great satisfaction of several curious pas- 
 sengers who not only subjected the state of my wardrobe 
 to a rigid inspection, but attempted to read my papers, a 
 compliment which I begged leave to decline. 
 
 From Lake Pontchartrain we passed into Lake Borgne, 
 a basin of similar character, and equally devoid of beauty. 
 Both are surrounded by vast marshes, and the view on 
 every side is dreary and monotonous. On a projection 
 at the narrow pass by which these lakes are united, is a 
 fort garrisoned by a company of the United States army. 
 A more wretched place it is impossible to conceive. The 
 climate is among the most villanous in the world; and 
 an officer who happened to be a passenger, and had once 
 for three years enjoyed the pleasures of this charming 
 station, assured me that the moschetoes are so numer- 
 ous that it is absolutely necessary to live nine months of 
 the year under gauze. 
 
 It was pitch-dark when we reached a place called Pas- 
 samagoula, where our voyage terminated. It here be- 
 came necessary to cross the lake, about half a mile broad, 
 on a narrow and rickety bridge of planks. The exploit 
 was achieved without accident, but it was really one of 
 peril. To see was impossible, and to grope equally so, 
 for the railing in many places had given way. At one 
 point of our progress it was necessary to jump, and I re- 
 member plunging forward into the abyss with the delight-
 
 328 FIRE FLIES. 
 
 Tul incertitude of whether, in the course of a second, I 
 was not to find myself in the middle of Lake Borgne. 
 The betting, I believe, would have been pretty equal be- 
 tween plank and water, but luckily the former carried it, 
 and in a few minutes I was safely housed in a dirty log 
 tavern. 
 
 The landlord was particularly anxious that some of the 
 party should remain till the following day to proceed by 
 another coach, but having already secured places at New 
 Orleans, I would by no means listen to the suggestion; 
 and, accordingly, about one o'clock in the morning, I 
 had the satisfaction of finding myself in the mail stage, 
 moving slowly onward towards Mobile. Our road was 
 what is expressively called a natural one, and lay 
 through a continued pine forest. In the whole distance 
 I observed only two houses, one of which was a tavern, 
 where we stopped to sup about four in the morning. 
 Our fare was cold venison and bacon, for which the 
 charge was so enormous as to excite the indignation of 
 the passengers, who said not a word until we drove off, 
 when they united in declaring that their pockets had been 
 picked. 
 
 This forest drive is imprinted on my memory by as- 
 sociation with a scene of peculiar beauty. The wind had 
 fallen, and the night was warm and misty. After 
 leaving the tavern, the forest suddenly became illumined 
 with myriads of fire-flies. The dark foliage of the pines 
 shone resplendently in the multitude of tiny corusca- 
 tions. But in an hour day dawned, and the " ineffectual 
 fires " of these beautiful insects were soon extinguished 
 in its radiance. 
 
 About nine in the morning of the 12th of April, we 
 reached Mobile, a town, as every Liverpool merchant 
 well knows, of considerable importance. It was burned 
 down some years ago, but few traces of the conflagration 
 are now discernible. On inquiry, I found the steam- 
 boat for Montgomery did not start for three days, and, 
 therefore, I judged it advisable to take advantage of my 
 letters. These were not less efficacious in procuring 
 kindness at Mobile, than I had found them in other 
 places. 
 
 My observations during this three days' residence af-
 
 SCOTCH BAKER. 329 
 
 forded little to record. Mobile is a place of trade, and 
 of nothing else. It is the great port of the cotton-grow- 
 ing State of Alabama. The quays were crowded with 
 shipping, and in amount of exports it is inferior only to 
 New Orleans. The wealth of the Mobile merchants 
 must accumulate rapidly, for they certainly do not dis- 
 sipate it in expenditure. There are no smart houses or 
 equipages, nor indeed any demonstration of opulence, 
 except huge ware-houses and a crowded harbour. 7 Of 
 amusements of any kind I heard nothing. 
 
 My mornings were passed in wandering about the 
 neighbouring forest, which is full of Indians. These 
 men had evidently been debased by their intercourse 
 with Europeans. It is only in the remote wilderness 
 that they appear in their native dignity and independence. 
 And yet something of their original grace and spirit 
 seemed still to cling to them. They are poor, yet patient 
 under suffering, and though subdued, are nobly sub- 
 missive. During my walks I often attempted to con- 
 verse with them, but their taciturnity was not to be over- 
 come. I gave them money, but they received it rather 
 with surprise than thankfulness. They were without 
 experience in gratitude, and too manly to express that 
 which they did not feel. 
 
 I was strongly recommended to lay in a store of cog- 
 niac and biscuits at Mobile, being assured that in the 
 country I was about to traverse, there would be found 
 neither bread nor brandy. Though not particularly ap- 
 prehensive of suffering by privation of either, I adopted 
 the advice of my friends, and visited a Scotch baker, 
 whom I directed to pack for me a small box of biscuits. 
 My countrymen are accused of cherishing a certain in- 
 destructible sentiment of affinity. Whether this moved 
 the baker and myself I know not, but we had a good 
 deal of conversation on the subject of emigration. My 
 compatriot was a native of Hamilton, and had courted 
 fortune there without success. Regardless of Malthus 
 and his precepts, he had married, and unluckily his fa- 
 mily increased quite as rapidly as his hope of supporting 
 it diminished. Under these circumstances he turned 
 his little moveables into money, and trusting his progeny 
 for a season to God and their own industry, set off for 
 
 42
 
 330 THE BAKER'S OPINIONS. 
 
 America. On arriving at New York, he worked for 
 some months as a journeyman, but learning from a friend 
 that kneaders of dough were in greater request at Mo- 
 bile, he there pitched his tabernacle and heated his oven. 
 His family had since joined him, and he was now, he 
 assured me, in the enjoyment of every comfort which 
 the most prosperous baker could desire. 
 
 In conversation, the man's mind seemed to be alter- 
 nately influenced by attachment to his native land, and 
 satisfaction in the enjoyment of those advantages which 
 had resulted from his quitting it. At first he would 
 talk of nothing but the beauties of the Clyde. " Oh, 
 sir," said he, " are not the banks of the Clyde beautiful? 
 Did you ever see a river like it? Does not the road 
 from Hamilton to Lanark pass through a perfect paradise? 
 I am sure the whole world has nothing to equal it." 
 
 I agreed in all his praises of the Clyde, and inquired 
 whether he had not found, in the solid comforts of the 
 New World, a sufficient compensation for the loss of 
 those beauties which it delighted his imagination to re- 
 call. This question seemed to have the effect of divert- 
 ing the whole current of the baker's ideas. He dilated 
 on his present comforts; told me he lived like a duke, 
 the man was redolent of broth, had two slaves, could 
 pay his debts any day in the week, and had lately been 
 able, without inconvenience, to send a hundred dollars 
 to his poor mother. In regard to emigration, he ex- 
 pressed his opinions at great length. " In Scotland, 
 sir," said this sagacious master of the rolls, there is so 
 much competition in every trade that a great many must 
 be unsuccessful. Take my own case as an example: 
 when I set up a shop in Hamilton, I was honest and in- 
 dustrious enough, and understood my business quite as 
 well as any baker in the country; still I could get little 
 custom. The trade was already full, and those only 
 who had considerable capital could afford to wait till bu- 
 siness came in by slow degrees. This would not do for 
 me, whose whole stock in trade consisted only of fifty 
 pounds, borrowed from my wife's uncle. I was obliged 
 to sell my bread to pay for my flour, and finding that 
 impossible, soon got into the Gazette. My story is that 
 of thousands more; and surely these men had better 
 come to this country, than continue struggling for a pre-
 
 THE BAKER'S ADVICE TO EMIGRANTS. 331 
 
 carious subsistence at home. They may not get rich 
 here, but they will be sure, if they are sober, industri- 
 ous, and do not suffer from the climate, to escape from 
 poverty. But it is not actual want of the necessaries of 
 life, sir, which occasions the chief suffering of the poor 
 tradesman in the old country. It is the cares and anx- 
 ieties that continually press on him, that deprive his 
 bread of its nourishment, and disturb his sleep by horri- 
 ble dreams; it is these things that wear out both soul and 
 body, and make him an old man before his time. In 
 America a man may look to the future without more ap- 
 prehension than what naturally arises from the common 
 accidents to which we are liable in all countries. He 
 need have no fears about his family, for he has plenty to 
 give them in the mean time; and if they live, they will 
 soon be able to provide for themselves. 
 
 (t Still I would not advise any one who is in a steady 
 way of business at home, however small, and who can 
 make both ends meet by strict economy, to think of emi- 
 grating. It is a sore trial, sir; and if I had been a single 
 man, with no one to provide for but myself, I never 
 would have left bonny Scotland. Oh, sir, the rivers 
 here are not to be compared to the Clyde,* and had the 
 worst come to the worst, I would have still continued to 
 get both bite and sup; and I often think now that a mouth- 
 ful in that country would do me more good than a whole 
 bellyful in this. The man that comes here, sir, only ex- 
 changes one set of evils for another: he is obliged to 
 mingle with a most profane and godless set. He cannot 
 hear the gospel preached, as he has been accustomed to, 
 and the profanation of the Sabbath is most awful. He 
 cannot give his children a religious education, and bring 
 them up in the fear of the Lord; and it is shocking to 
 think of the sights of depravity to which they must be- 
 come accustomed from tlfeir very infancy. I am not 
 sure, sir, that poverty is not a slight evil when compared 
 to this. 
 
 "Then ther,e is slavery, sir; men are treated in this 
 country far worse than brute beasts in Scotland, and 
 surely this is dreadful. There is no getting any thing 
 done here without slaves, for all white men think it 
 a disgrace to labour. I was obliged to buy a slave
 
 332 DEPARTURE FROM MOBILE. 
 
 with the first money 1 could spare, and I have now 
 two, but I treat them just like free servants, and teach 
 my children that, in the eye of God, they are as good 
 as themselves. After all, it is a sore trial of patience; 
 for the creatures are dirty, and have no sense or gump- 
 tion. Then, the ways of the people here, are not plea- 
 sant to one from the old country: they are not social 
 and neighbourly, and are so keen about money, that I 
 believe they would skin a flea for lucre of the hide and 
 tallow. There is a great deal, sir, that should be well- 
 weighed and considered before a man decides on leaving 
 the land of his birth. I have never advised a friend of 
 mine to do so, and when applied to, though I give all 
 the information in my power, I advise nothing but cau- 
 tion.'' 
 
 So far as my memory would permit, I have imbodied 
 the oration of the baker in his own words. It struck 
 me as being marked by an unusual degree of good sense, 
 and may possibly be found useful. At all events his 
 biscuits were excellent, and during my eight days' resi- 
 dence in the Creek country, I often thought of him with 
 gratitude. 
 
 On the 15th of April I embarked on board of the 
 steam-boat Isabella, bound up the Alabama river for 
 Montgomery. As there were no ladies on board, my 
 English friend and myself succeeded in getting posses- 
 sion of the cabin usually appropriated for their accommo- 
 dation. Our apartment was immediately above that oc- 
 cupied by the gentlemen, and being surrounded by a 
 balcony, it was impossible to desire any thing more 
 agreeable. The party below seemed to consist almost 
 exclusively of farmers, who, though exceedingly offen- 
 sive both in habits and deportment, are yet a shade bet- 
 ter than the inhabitants of towns. There is nothing rus- 
 tic, however, about any American; nothing of that sim- 
 plicity which distinguishes the peasantry of other coun- 
 tries. The eye is almost uniformly expressive of care 
 and cunning; and often, as I looked on the furrowed and 
 haggard countenances which surrounded the dinner ta- 
 ble, have- 1 asked myself, "Is it possible that these men 
 make pretension to happiness?" 
 
 In my progress down the western waters, I had be-
 
 COURT OF LAW. 333 
 
 come accustomed to a table, loaded even to excess with 
 provisions of all sorts. In the Southern States there is 
 no such profusion. Our dinners on board the Isabella 
 were scanty in quantity, and far from laudable on the 
 score of quality. Plates, dishes, knives and forks, table- 
 cloths, all were dirty and disgusting. But bating these 
 disagreeables, our voyage was pleasant and prosperous 
 The Alabama is a river apparently about the size of the 
 Hudson; and the scenery through which it led us, was 
 very pleasing, though deficient in variety. Either bank 
 presented a splendid mass of luxuriant foliage, and some 
 of the noblest timber I had ever seen. Among the fo- 
 rest trees I remarked the plane, the cotton-tree, dogwood, 
 oak of several varieties, magnolia grandiflora, maple, 
 gum-tree, hackberry, &c. At night I was peculiarly 
 struck with the beauty of the stars reflected in the pure 
 waters of the river. The whole sky was mirrored with 
 a vividness which exceeded every thing of the kind I 
 have ever witnessed .before or since. 
 
 In the evening we passed Claiborne, a petty village on 
 a height, a short distance from the river. In a State so 
 thinly peopled as Alabama, however, it is talked of as a 
 considerable place; but from all I saw or heard of it, 
 Claiborne is not increasing, nor is it likely to increase. 
 On the morning following, we came to Portland, a 
 miserable place, consisting of a store and a few wretched 
 houses. This is what is called in American phrase, "a 
 great improvement. " We called at every house in the 
 place in search of milk, but could get none. 
 
 Our next stoppage was at Cahawba, which, a year or 
 two back, was the seat of government of the State. It 
 is a very poor collection of very poor houses, not, I 
 should imagine, above twenty in number. The Court- 
 house happening to be open, I entered, and found the 
 Court engaged in the discharge of business. On an ele- 
 vated platform, composed of rough unpainted boards, sat 
 his honour, the judge, not better dressed, and apparently 
 somewhat filthier in habits, than an English ploughman. 
 The case concerned the payment of a doctor's bill: the 
 counsel for defendant, a gentleman in a fustian jacket, 
 was in the act of addressing the Court. He read an act 
 of the legislature, enacting that no practitioner of the
 
 334 ARRIVAL AT MONTGOMERY. 
 
 healing art should recover for medical attendance, with- 
 out having been previously licensed by a Board of Doc- 
 tors, and called on the plaintiff, as a necessary preliminary, 
 to produce his certificate. 
 
 This was evidently inconvenient, and the plaintiff's 
 counsel, whose appearance seemed to indicate a combina- 
 tion of the trade of blacksmith with that of barrister, was 
 somewhat taken aback by the demand. The learned 
 gentleman, however, attempted with all his ingenuity, to 
 get out of the scrape, and at the conclusion of every sen- 
 tence, hitched up his corduroy breeches, which seemed 
 in danger of dropping about his heels, with a grace pe- 
 culiarly his own. Unfortunately I had not time to wait 
 for the peroration of the speech. The steam-boat bell 
 sounded, and no time was to be lost in getting on 
 board. 
 
 Shortly after dark we reached Selma, the most con- 
 siderable settlement on the Alabama, between Mobile 
 and Montgomery. There was no quay, and a good deal 
 of the cargo was rolled out upon the bank without any 
 one to receive it. I did not see Selma, for the night was 
 cloudy and moonless, and the village stands at a short 
 distance from the river. 
 
 On the fourth clay, our voyage terminated. Mont- 
 gomery is what is called " a considerable place," though 
 its population does not exceed a few hundreds, and these 
 exclusively of the poorer order. There is not one tolerable 
 house, and nothing could be worse than the inn. In the 
 way of dormitory, nothing was to be had but a room 
 with three beds in it, all of which were destined to be 
 occupied. What was still worse, the beds were full of 
 vermin, and the moschetoes more annoying than I had 
 yet found them. 
 
 In such circumstances I was up with the lark, and set 
 out on a long ramble through the neighbouring country. 
 The soil is poor and light, but presents a prettily undu- 
 lating surface. From one height I enjoyed a fine view 
 of the river, which is truly, even at this distance from 
 the sea, a noble object. After a walk of three hours I 
 returned to the inn, having fortunately succeeded in 
 throwing off by exercise, the fever and fatigue of a rest- 
 less night.
 
 ENTER THE CREEK COUNTRY. 335 
 
 In the Southern States, there is little of that stirring 
 spirit of improvement so apparent in the regions of the 
 West. The towns and villages are without appearance 
 of business, and the number of dilapidated if the word 
 may be applied to structures of wood houses, indicates 
 a decreasing, rather than an augmenting population. In 
 Montgomery, many houses had been deserted, and the 
 Court-house seemed fast falling into decay. 
 
 At four o'clock p. M., we started in the mail stage for 
 Fort Mitchell. There were unfavourable reports abroad 
 of the state of the rivers, which were asserted to be im- 
 passable; but I had so often experienced that difficulties, 
 formidable at a distance, become insignificant on nearer 
 approach, that I determined to push on at all hazards. 
 In the present case, my determination was unlucky, for 
 it involved both my companion and myself in some little 
 danger, and occasioned considerable detention. 
 
 We accomplished the first stage without difficulty of 
 any kind, but with the second commenced the tug of 
 war. Our first obstacle was a bayou of such depth, that 
 in crossing it, the water was ankle-deep in the bottom of 
 the carriage. Night had set in before we reached Lime 
 Creek, which, though generally a slow and sluggish 
 stream, was now swelled into a very formidable torrent. 
 It requires experience to understand the full danger of 
 crossing such a river, and, perhaps, fortunately, I did 
 not possess it. But both the passengers and coachman 
 were under considerable alarm, and one of the former, a 
 Louisianian planter, in broken English threatened (he 
 black ferryman with instant death in case of negligence 
 or blunder. This caused some merriment; but Sambo, 
 who was evidently under no alarm, took the matter very 
 coolly. The coach Avas run into the ferry-boat, and by 
 means of a hawser stretched across the river, we soon 
 found ourselves in safety on the opposite bank. 
 
 We were now in the territory of the Creek Indians, 
 and in consequence of the darkness, it was soon found 
 impossible to proceed without torches. We tried in 
 vain to procure them at several of the Indian encamp- 
 ments, but were at last fortunate enough to discover an 
 axe in the coach, with which abundance were soon cut 
 from the neighbouring pines. I have had occasion to
 
 336 PROGRESS THROUGH THE FOREST. 
 
 say a great deal about roads in these volumes, but I pro- 
 nounce that along which our route lay on the present 
 occasion, to be positively, comparatively, and superla- 
 tively, the very worst I have ever travelled in the whole 
 course of my peregrinations. The ruts were axle-deep, 
 and huge crevices occasionally occurred, in which, but 
 for great strategy on the part of the coachman, the vehi- 
 cle must have been engulfed. 
 
 Jn such circumstances none of the passengers seemed 
 ambitious of the dangerous distinction of keeping his 
 seat. We all walked, each armed with a pine torch, and 
 the party, to a spectator, must have had very much the 
 aspect of a funeral procession. Nothing, however, could 
 be more beautiful than the scene presented by the forest. 
 The glare of our torches, as we continued slowly ad- 
 vancing amid the darkness; the fires of the Indian en- 
 campments seen at a distance through the trees, and the 
 wild figures by which they were surrounded; the multi- 
 tude of fire-flies which flickered every where among the 
 foliage, formed a combination of objects which more 
 than compensated in picturesque beauty, for all the diffi- 
 culties we had yet encountered. 
 
 We had to pass two swamps on a sort of pavement 
 formed of logs of trees, or what is called in America, a 
 " corduroy road." The operation, though one of some 
 difficulty, was effected without accident. The country, 
 as we advanced, presented greater inequalities of surface. 
 Stumps of trees often came in contact with the wheels, 
 and brought the whole machine to a stand-still; trees 
 which had been blown over by the wind sometimes lay 
 directly across the road, and it was with difficulty that 
 the united exertions of the passengers succeeded in re- 
 moving them. 
 
 In spite of all obstacles, however, we reached an In- 
 dian tavern, where we changed horses and had supper. 
 We were now beyond the region of bread, and our fare 
 consisted of eggs, broiled venison, and cakes of Indian 
 corn fried in some kind of oleaginous matter. The ve- 
 nison was tolerable, and with the biscuits of my friend, 
 the Mobile baker, I bade defiance to fate in the way of 
 eating. 
 
 On returning to the coach, we found the night had
 
 INDIAN COTTAGE. 337 
 
 become one of rain. The clouds began discharging 
 their contents in no very alarming profusion, but this 
 soon changed, and the rain absolutely descended in tor- 
 rents. The pine torches refused to burn; the wind 
 roared loudly among the trees;, streams came rushing 
 down the gulleys, and inundated the road, and in spite 
 of greatcoats and water-proof cloaks, in less than an hour 
 1 found myself fairly drenched to the skin. 
 
 At length the horses, on getting half way up a hill, 
 became fairly exhausted, and no application of the lash 
 could induce them to proceed. The passengers all 
 pushed most lustily, but the horses were obstinate, and 
 gave us no assistance. In short, we were evidently 
 hard and fast for the night, and resigning all hope of im- 
 mediate extrication, the driver was despatched on one 
 of the leaders to the next stage for assistance, while in 
 doleful mood, and absolutely saturated with water, we 
 reseated ourselves in the coach to await his reappear- 
 ance. 
 
 It would not, in truth, be easy to conceive a set of 
 men in more miserable pickle. The storm, instead of 
 abating, continued to increase. The peals of thunder 
 were tremendous. The lightning split a huge pine- 
 tree within a few yards of us, and one of the passengers 
 declared he was struck blind, and did not recover his 
 sight for an hour or two. The rain beat in through the 
 sides and covering of the carriage, as if in wantonness of 
 triumph to drench men who, sooth to say, were quite 
 wet enough already. In short, 
 
 " Such sheets of fire, such bursts of horrid thunder, 
 Such groans of roaring 1 wind and rain, I never 
 Remember to have heard." 
 
 From one o'clock in the morning until seven did we 
 continue in this comfortless condition, when we were 
 somewhat cheered by the appearance of the driver, who, 
 we afterwards discovered, had been sleeping very com- 
 fortably in an Indian cottage in the neighbourhood. He 
 brought with him a couple of Negroes, but no additional 
 horses, and of course it was quite preposterous to suppose 
 that the poor animals, which had been standing all night 
 without food, and exposed to the storm, could now per- 
 
 43
 
 338 APPEARANCE OF THE INDIANS. 
 
 form a task to which they had formerly proved unequal. 
 The attempt was made, however; and to lighten the 
 coach, our baggage was tossed out upon the road. Nei- 
 ther the Negroes, horses, nor passengers, could move 
 the coach one inch from its position. There it was, and 
 there it was destined to remain. Our last hope of extri- 
 cation had now failed us, and it became necessary to find 
 shelter and hospitality as best we could. 
 
 Luckily an Indian cottage was discovered at no great 
 distance, where, by the help of a blazing fire, we suc- 
 ceeded in drying our drenched garments. In the course 
 of the day a bullock wagon was despatched for the mail- 
 bags and luggage, and there was evidently nothing for it 
 but roughing it with a good grace. 
 
 On the part of those on whose privacy we had in- 
 truded, our welcome was tranquil, but apparently sin- 
 cere.. Our host one of the handsomest Indians I have 
 ever seen spread before us his whole store of eggs, ve- 
 nison, and Indian corn, with the air of a forest gentle- 
 man. His two wives, with greater advantages of toilet, 
 would probably have been good-looking, but being un- 
 fortunately rather dirty, and clad only in a blanket and 
 blue petticoat, the sum of their attractions was by no 
 means overpowering. The children were nearly naked, 
 yet graceful in all their motions. Their chief amuse- 
 ment seemed to consist in the exercise of the crossbow. 
 
 One of the passengers produced a musical snuff-box, 
 which occasioned great excitement in the women and 
 children. The men were too dignified or phlegmatic to 
 betray either pleasure or astonishment. Our host, how- 
 ever, was evidently delighted with an air-gun with which 
 several birds were killed for his amusement. He then 
 asked permission to take a shot, and hit a dollar with 
 great accuracy at about thirty yards. 
 
 It somewhat lowered the ideas of romance connected 
 with these Indians, to find that they are, many of them, 
 slave-owners. But slavery among this simple people as- 
 sumes a very different aspect from any under which I 
 had yet beheld it. The negroes speak English, and ge- 
 nerally act as dragomen in any intercourse with the 
 whites. They struck me as being far handsomer than 
 any I had yet seen, partly, perhaps, from being unhabit- 
 uated to severe labour, and partly from some slight ad-
 
 AMERICAN REFUGEES. 339 
 
 mixture of Indian blood. I conversed with several who 
 described their bondage as light, and spoke of their mas- 
 ter and his family with affection. 
 
 To the lash they are altogether unaccustomed, and 
 when married, live in houses of their own, round which 
 they cultivate a patch of ground. The negro and Indian 
 children are brought up together on a footing of perfect 
 equality, and the government of the family seemed en- 
 tirely patriarchal. 
 
 The weather had become fine, and the day passed more 
 pleasantly than the night. The -Indian territory being 
 beyond the reach of American law, is sought as a place 
 of refuge by criminals, and those to whom the restraints 
 of civilized society are habitually irksome. These men 
 intermarry with the natives, among whom they contri- 
 bute to spread guilt and demoralization. In truth, the 
 majority are ruffians, whose proneness to crime is here 
 alike unchecked by principle, religion, public opinion, 
 or dread of punishment. 
 
 Towards evening, two of this class came in, and chose 
 to pass the night in drinking. Nothing more offensive 
 than their manners and conversation can readily be con- 
 ceived. After bearing patiently with this annoyance for 
 an hour or two, it at length became intolerable, and, in 
 order to escape, I spread my cloak in a corner of the ca- 
 bin and endeavoured to sleep. But this was impossible. 
 The noise, the demands for liquor, the blasphemy, the 
 wrangling, were unceasing. At length, one of the men 
 drew his dirk, and attempted to assassinate his opponent, 
 who succeeded, however, in seizing him by the throat, and 
 both rolled upon the floor. 1 immediately jumped up, and 
 the alarm roused our host, who, with the assistance of a 
 slave, barely succeeded in saving the life of one of the com- 
 batants. He was at first insensible. His mouth was wide 
 open; his face and lips were livid ; his eyes seemed burst- 
 ing from their sockets, and, on being raised, his head hung 
 down upon his shoulder. His lungs, however, made a 
 convulsive effort to regain their action. There was a loud 
 and sudden gurgle, and he became better. The other 
 man was prevailed on to depart ; and towards four in the 
 morning, silence, broken only by the snoring of some of 
 tts inmates, reigned in the cottage.
 
 340 AMERICAN POLYGAMIST. 
 
 Sleep, however, was impossible, under the incessant at- 
 tacks of a multitude of blood-suckers, which, flea for man, 
 would have outnumbered the army of Xerxes. But 
 morning came, and fortunately with it, a coach intended 
 to convey us on our journey. Our host could not be pre- 
 vailed on to make any charge for our entertainment, but 
 one of his wives received all we chose to offer, and ap- 
 peared satisfied with its amount. Not an article of the 
 baggage was found missing, and, on departing, I shook 
 hands with the whole establishment Negroes included 
 to the great scandal of the American passengers. 
 
 Even by daylight our way was beset by difficulties. 
 First came Kilbeedy Creek, which we crossed by as awk- 
 ward and rickety a bridge as can well be imagined. 
 Then came Pessimmon's swamp, which presented a de- 
 lightful corduroy road, some parts of which had been en- 
 tirely absorbed by the morass. At length, we reached 
 the inn kept by an American polygamist, with three In- 
 dian wives. The breakfast was no better than might be 
 expected in such an establishment. It consisted of bad 
 coffee, rancid venison, and corn cakes, no eggs, no milk, no 
 butter. Our host, apparently, had no great taste in re- 
 gard to wives. One was round as a hogshead; another 
 skin and bone ; of the third I saw, or at least remember, 
 nothing. 
 
 The meal concluded, we again set forward. Our route 
 lay through one continued pine forest. In the course of 
 the day we passed many Indian wigwams, and a few 
 houses of a better order, surrounded by small enclosures. 
 The road by no means improved, and, in order to relieve 
 the horses, we were compelled to walk. At one place it 
 was completely obstructed by a huge fallen tree, which 
 delayed our progress for at least two hours. About three 
 o'clock we dined at the house of a half-caste Indian, on 
 the usual fare, venison and Indian corn. 
 
 In the course of the evening we passed several heights 
 which afforded extensive, if not fine, views of the neigh- 
 bouring country. The road, too, became somewhat bet- 
 ter, and, being composed of sand without stones, though 
 heavy for the horses, was not uncomfortable, for the pas- 
 sengers. For myself, I never experienced greater fatigue. 
 During the two preceding nights, I had never closed an
 
 INDIAN BALL PLAY. 341 
 
 eye, and when, at four in the morning, we reached a small 
 tavern, where owing to the desertion of the moon it 
 was found necessary to wait till daylight, I cast myself on 
 "the floor, and in a moment was asleep. 
 
 Daylight soon came, and I was again roused from my 
 slumbers. We were yet fourteen miles from Fort Mit- 
 chell, and for the greater part of the distance, were com- 
 pelled to make progress on foot. The sun rose beautifully 
 above the dark tops of the pine trees, but he was never 
 gazed on by more languid eyes. At ten o'clock we 
 reached Fort Mitchell, having in twenty-four hours ac- 
 complished a distance of only ninety miles. 
 
 Fort Mitchell is garrisoned by a detachment of the 
 United States army, in order to prevent aggressions on 
 the Georgian frontier by the Indians. Beyond the limits 
 of the fort there are, if I remember rightly, only three 
 houses, one of which is a tavern. Its accommodations 
 were far from comfortable, but the landlord was civil, 
 and evidently disposed to do his best in our behalf. Un- 
 der such circumstances we made no complaint, though 
 judging from the scantiness of our meals his larder must 
 have rivalled in opulence the shop of the apothecary in 
 Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 My first effort was to procure a place in the coach to 
 Augusta, but in this I was disappointed. Fort Mitchell 
 seemed a sort of trou de rat .which it was difficult to get 
 into, and still more difficult to get out of. I was detained 
 there for nearly a week, and never did time pass more 
 slowly. Had my sojourn been voluntary, I should pro- 
 bably have found a great deal to interest and amuse, but 
 an enforced residence is never pleasant, and, but for the 
 privilege of grumbling, would be intolerable. 
 
 The officers of the garrison lived in the hotel, and took 
 pleasure in showing kindness to a stranger. I rode with 
 them through the neighbouring forest, and was indebted 
 to them for much valuable information relative to the 
 Indians. During my stay, there was a Ball Play, in 
 which two neighbouring tribes contended for superiority. 
 One of these was the Creeks, the other the Switches, a 
 very small tribe which occupy a district in the Creek ter- 
 ritory, and still retain all their peculiarities of language 
 and custom.
 
 342 INDIAN BALL PLAY. 
 
 On the appointed morning we repaired to the scene of 
 action, where a considerable number of spectators chiefly 
 Indians had already assembled. The players on each 
 side soon appeared, and retired to the neighbouring 
 thickets to adjust their toilet for the game. While thus 
 engaged, either party endeavoured to daunt their oppo- 
 nents by loud and discordant cries. At length they 
 emerged with their bodies entirely naked except the 
 waist, which was encircled by a girdle. Their skin was 
 besmeared with oil, and painted fantastically with dif- 
 ferent colours. Some wore tails, others necklaces made 
 of the teeth of animals, and the object evidently was to 
 look as ferocious as possible. 
 
 After a good deal of preliminary ceremony, the game 
 began. The object of either party was to send the ball 
 as far as possible into their adversary's ground, and then 
 to make it pass between two poles, erected for the pur- 
 pose of demarcation. I certainly never saw a finer dis- 
 play of agile movement. In figure the Creek Indians 
 are tall and graceful. There is less volume of muscle 
 than in Englishmen, but more activity and freedom of 
 motion. Many of the players were handsome men, and 
 one in particular might have stood as the model of an 
 Apollo. His form and motions displayed more of the 
 ideal than I had ever seen actually realized in a human 
 figure. The Ewitches were by no means so good-look- 
 ing as their competitors. 
 
 The game is accompanied with some danger, both to 
 those engaged in it and to the spectators. It is quite 
 necessary for the latter to keep clear of the melee, for in 
 following the ball, the whole body of the players sweep 
 on like a hurricane, and a gouty or pursy gentleman could 
 be safe only when perched on the boughs of a tree. At 
 length the Creeks were victorious, and the air rang with 
 savage shouts of triumph. The poor Ewitches, chop- 
 fallen, quitted the field, declaring, however, that none 
 'but their worst players had taken part in the game. The 
 victors danced about in all the madness of inordinate ela- 
 tion, and the evening terminated in a profuse jollification, 
 to which I had the honour of contributing. 
 
 During my stay at Fort Mitchell I saw a good deal of 
 the United States troops. The discipline is very lax,
 
 WANT OF DISCIPLINE. 343 
 
 and being always separated in small detachments, they 
 have no opportunity of being exercised in field move- 
 ments. On Sunday there was a dress parade, which I 
 attended. Little was done, but that little in the most 
 slovenly manner. It is only justice to the officers to state, 
 that they are quite aware of the deficiencies of the service 
 to which they belong. "You will laugh," they said, 
 " at our want of method and discipline, but the fault is 
 not ours; we cannot help it. The service is unpopular, 
 we receive no support from the government, and we have 
 no means of maintaining proper subordination." A 
 non-commissioned officer,- who had formerly been in our 
 service, and, therefore, understood what soldiers should 
 be, in answering some questions, treated the whole affair 
 as a joke. He entered the American service, he said, 
 because there was easy work, and little trouble of any 
 sort. He had no intention of remaining long in it, for 
 he could do better in other ways. There was no steady 
 and effective command kept over the soldiers, and yet 
 there was a great deal of punishment. Even from the 
 small detachment at Fort Mitchell desertions happened 
 every week. Whenever a man became tired of his duty, 
 off he went, bag and baggage, and pursuit was hopeless. 
 The truth is, that men accustomed to democracy can 
 never be brought to submit patiently to the rigours of 
 military discipline. The nation take pride in their navy, 
 but none in their army. The latter service is neglected; 
 there is no encouragement for the display of zeal in the 
 officers, and the stations are so remote as to remove the 
 troops entirely from public observation. The people care 
 nothing for a set of invisible beings mewed up in some 
 petty forts on the vast frontier, who have no enemy to 
 contend with, and are required to brave nothing but 
 fever and moschetoes. Then, when a case connected 
 with the enforcement of discipline comes before the civil 
 courts, the wh6le feeling is in favour of the prosecutor. 
 I remember a curious instance of this, which was related 
 to me by an officer of distinction in the United Service 
 army. A soldier found guilty, by a court-martial, of re- 
 peated desertions, was sentenced to a certain period of 
 imprisonment, and loss of pay. The man underwent the 
 allotted punishment, and on being liberated, immediate-
 
 344 GEORGIA. 
 
 ly brought actions against all the members of the court- 
 martial. The ground taken up was this: The articles 
 of war state, that whoever is guilty of desertion, shall 
 " suffer death, or such other punishment as, by a general 
 court-martial, shall be awarded." It was maintained, 
 that, by this clause, the court were empowered to inflict 
 only one punishment, and that, in passing sentence of im- 
 prisonment and stoppage of pay, they had inflicted tzw. 
 The jury gave a verdict and high damages against the 
 members of the court, who received no assistance nor 
 protection of any kind from the government. 
 
 On leaving Fort Mitchell, we crossed the Chatahouchy 
 (a very considerable river, of which I had never heard,) 
 and entered the State of Georgia. Our road still conti- 
 nued to lie through an almost unbroken pine forest, and 
 the roads were mere sand, in which the wheels sank half 
 up to the axles. The heat was very great. We tra- 
 velled all night, and, on the evening of the following day, 
 reached Macon, the most considerable place I had seen 
 since leaving Mobile. We dined there, and again set 
 forward. About ten at night we reached Milledgeville, 
 where I was obliged to remain through illness, though 
 still nearly two days' journey from Augusta, to which I 
 had secured places. 
 
 I passed a restless and uncomfortable night, and find- 
 ing the fever still increase, sent for a doctor. I asked 
 him whether he apprehended my complaint to be fever? 
 He answered, he certainly feared that I was suffering 
 under the commencement of a fever of some sort, but 
 with regard to its character or probable termination, 
 could pronounce no opinion. In spite of the doctor's 
 medicines, I continued to get worse. The weather was 
 intensely hot, and I began to calculate that Milledgeville 
 would prove the termination of my travels. But during 
 the third night, a profuse perspiration came on, and in 
 the morning I had the satisfaction to find* that the fever 
 was gone. 
 
 Unfortunately my strength was gone with it. I could 
 only walk with the greatest difficulty, and required as- 
 sistance to reach the veranda. Luckily, there was a 
 good-natured black cook, who sent me up a boiled 
 chicken, the first food I tasted since leaving Macon.
 
 CHARACTER OP GEORGIANS. 345 
 
 This acted as a restorative. On the day following, I 
 could creep about the city, of which, being the metropolis 
 of a State, it may be well to say a lew words. 
 
 Milledgeville has seen better days, and presents the 
 appearance, not of a decayed gentleman, but of a starving 
 mechanic. Many houses have already gone to decay, 
 and others are fast following. It stands on the Oconee 
 river, which, unfortunately, is every year becoming shal- 
 lower, to the great injury both of trade and agriculture. 
 The country round Milledgeville is undulating, and has 
 been tolerably cleared. At first the soil was considered 
 excellent, but wherever the forest has disappeared, the 
 rains and torrents from the hills have swept off the earth 
 from the declivities, and left nothing but gravel. It is 
 chiefly to these causes, I believe, that the decline of po- 
 pulation and prosperity may be attributed. 
 
 The Georgian Legislature was not sitting, but I visited 
 the State House. It is a brick building, which some 
 blockhead of an architect has recently thought proper to 
 Gothicize. The accommodation within is plain, but suf- 
 ficient. There is a portrait of General Oglethorpe, who 
 first received a grant of the settlement from the British 
 Crown. He is a fine-looking old martinet, with a counte- 
 nance full of talent, and an air of high breeding. I was 
 invited to visit the State prison, but felt not the smallest 
 curiosity. 
 
 The second night after my recovery, I left Milledge- 
 ville, in the mail stage. My friend, the doctor, was a 
 worthy and kind-hearted man, who forgave me for having 
 disappointed his prognosis. We had had a good deal of 
 conversation during his visits, and when he came to see me 
 off in the coach, showed more feeling on the occasion than 
 I deserved. He squeezed me heartily by the hand, and 
 said, " Sir, I shall never see you again, but you have my 
 very best wishes that health and happiness may attend 
 you?" To meet with kindness unexpectedly is always 
 pleasant, and should these pages ever meet the eye of 
 the worthy son of Galen whose name, unfortunately, 
 has escaped my memory I beg him to receive this pub-? 
 lie and grateful acknowledgment of his warm-hearted 
 attentions to a stranger. 
 
 A journey through Georgia presents little to record, 
 44
 
 346 AUGUSTA 
 
 The inhabitants bear a bad character in other parts of the 
 Union. They are, perhaps, a little savage and fero- 
 cious; and, in regard to morals, one is tempted occasion- 
 ally to regret that the gibbet is not abroad in Georgia as 
 well as the school-master. From Fort Mitchell I tra- 
 velled with three attorneys, two store-keepers, two cot- 
 ton-planters, and a slave-dealer. My notions of the sort 
 of conversation prevalent in Newgate may not be very 
 accurate, but I much doubt whether it would be found to 
 indicate such utter debasement, both of thought and prin- 
 ciple, as that to which I was condemned to listen during 
 this journey. 
 
 Georgia receives large accessions of population in the 
 offscourings of other slave States. The restraints of law 
 are little felt, and it is the only State in the Union in 
 which I heard it publicly asserted that justice is not 
 purely administered. A Georgian, with whom I con- 
 versed a great deal about his native State, declared, that, 
 with plenty of money, he could, with facility, escape 
 punishment for any offence, however heinous. I in- 
 quired the mode by which so tempting an impunity was 
 to be realized. He would, first, he said, have a touch at 
 the sheriff, bribe the prosecutor's counsel to keep back 
 evidence, or leave some flaw by which the proceedings 
 might be vitiated; then, the jury it would be odd, in- 
 deed, if he could not gain over some of them; but even 
 should all fail, there was the gaoler a sure card. In 
 Georgia, he assured me there was really no danger to be 
 apprehended from law by a gentleman with heavy pock- 
 ets, who carried his wits about with him. 
 
 A great part of the journey to Augusta was performed 
 in the night. I saw enough, however, to convince me 
 that there was no change in the general character of the 
 scenery which I have so often described. Our supper- 
 house was in a village called Sparta, but the landlord had 
 gone to bed, and nothing was to be had except brandy. 
 On the following evening we reached Augusta. 
 
 Soon after our arrival, I took a walk through the 
 town. It stands on the Savannah river, and is the great 
 depot for the cotton grown in the surrounding country, 
 which is there shipped for Savannah or Charleston. The 
 main street is broad, and of considerable length. There
 
 CHARLESTON. 347 
 
 is a handsome bridge across the river, and the place, alto- 
 gether, formed a pleasing contrast to those I had seen 
 since the commencement of my voyage up the Alabama. 
 
 My illness at Milledgeville had left a good deal of de- 
 bility, and I determined on resting a day or two at Au- 
 gusta. I had brought several letters, which I despatched, 
 and was rather surprised to find that one of them was ad- 
 dressed to the landlord of the tavern in which I had taken, 
 up my abode. The best introduction to people of this 
 class is generally a well-filled pocket; but it is only fair 
 to state, that my letter did for me, what money most 
 probably would not. Mine host was in the highest de- 
 gree civil, placed me at dinner on his right hand, was 
 particularly attentive to the condition of my plate, and 
 when I ordered wine, gave me, I do believe, one of the 
 very best bottles in his cellar. He likewise conveyed 
 me in his carriage to visit a military station in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and from the respect paid him by the officers, 
 I concluded that he of the Red Lion was a topping man 
 in the place. 
 
 From Augusta, I should have gone down the river to 
 Savannah, but the steamer was not to sail for five days, 
 and I determined on proceeding by coach direct to 
 Charleston. We had not advanced above a few miles, 
 when a dreadful storm came on. The thunder was very 
 loud, and the rain very heavy, but, in the course of an 
 hour or two, the sky was again clear, and we at least en- 
 joyed the benefit of travelling without dust. Our route 
 lay through a succession of swamps and pine forests. 
 Here and there was a rice or cotton plantation, which 
 scarcely contributed to diminish the dreariness of the 
 prospect. 
 
 We travelled all night, and at two o'clock on the fol- 
 lowing day reached the Ashley river, within sight of 
 Charleston. Unfortunately, the wind was too high for 
 crossing, and till nine at night we were forced to remain 
 in the ferry-house, where seventeen of us were crammed 
 together in one miserable apartment. What we should 
 do for the night became matter of puzzle, but, luckily, 
 the wind lulled, and the appearance of the ferry-boat 
 put an end to our perplexities. 
 
 Every Englishman who visits Charleston, will, if he
 
 348 APPEARANCE OF CHARLESTON. 
 
 be wise) direct his baggage to be conveyed to Jones's 
 hotel. It is a small house, but every thing is well ma- 
 naged, and the apartments are good. Our party at din- 
 ner did not exceed ten, and there was no bolting or 
 scrambling. Jones is a black man, and must have pros- 
 pered in the world, for, I learned, he was laid up with 
 gout, the disease of a gentleman. 
 
 The pleasure of getting into such a house, of revi- 
 siting the glimpses of clean tablecloths and silver forks, 
 of exchanging salt pork and greasy corn cakes, for a 
 table furnished with luxuries of all sorts, was very 
 great. For a day or two, I experienced a certain im- 
 pulse to voracity, by no means philosophical; and, sooth 
 to say, after the privations of a journey from New Or- 
 leans, the luxury of Jones's iced claret might have con- 
 verted even Diogenes into a gourmet. 
 
 Except New Orleans, Charleston is the only place I 
 saw in the Southern States, which at all realizes our 
 English ideas of a city. It was quite a relief, after the 
 miserable towns I had lately passed through, to get into 
 one bearing the impress of what in the United States, 
 at least, may be called respectable antiquity. The 
 public buildings are very good; and, though the streets, 
 separately taken, had nothing handsome about them, the 
 city presents an appearance of bustle and animation, 
 which tends to redeem minor defects. The greater part 
 of the houses are of brick, and there are many buildings 
 of pretensions equal to any in the Union. A conside- 
 rable number of the better houses are decorated by gar- 
 dens, stocked with orange trees, the pride of India, and 
 a variety of flowering shrubs. 
 
 The city stands on an isthmus formed by two rivers, 
 the Ashley and the Cooper. The interior abounds in 
 pestilential marshes, which are found to be happily 
 adapted for the cultivation of rice, and the soil, in drier 
 situations, produces excellent cotton. These articles con- 
 stitute the staples of South Carolina, and the expendi- 
 ture of human life in their cultivation is very great* 
 The miasma generated by the rice grounds is peculiarly 
 fatal. The slaves are forced to brave it, but, at the ex- 
 pense of health and strength. They die, fortunately, 
 perhaps, before their time, and yet " so slowly that 
 the world cannot call it murder."
 
 CLIMATE OF CHARLESTON. 349 
 
 In point of climate, I believe Charleston is fully worse 
 than New Orleans. In the latter, Creoles are entirely 
 exempt from the ravages of the prevailing endemic. 
 But, in Charleston, there is no impunity for any class. 
 Even native Carolinians die of fever as well as their 
 neighbours. The chances are, that if a person from the 
 country, however acclimated, sleeps in Charleston even 
 for a night, at a certain season of the year, he catches 
 the fever. Should a person living in the city pass a day 
 with his friend in the country, there is not a doctor in 
 the place, who, on his return, would not consider him 
 in a state of peril. In short, the people of Charleston 
 pass their lives in endeavouring to escape from a pursuer 
 who is sure to overtake the fugitive at last. At one sea- 
 son, the town is unhealthy; and all who can afford it, 
 fly to their estates. At another, the country is unheal- 
 thy, and they take up their abode in the pine barrens. 
 From the pine barrens, they venture back into the town, 
 from which, in a short time, they are again expelled. 
 
 In New Orleans, a man runs a certain risk, and has 
 done with it. If he live, he continues to eat crawfish 
 in a variety of savoury preparations. If he die, the 
 crawfish eat him without cookery of any sort. He has 
 no fear of dining with his friend in the country at any 
 season of the year. But in Charleston, a man must be 
 continually on the alert; for, go where he may, there is 
 fever at his heels. This continual dodging with death 
 strikes me as very disagreeable; and if compelled to fix 
 my residence in either city, I should certainly choose 
 New Orleans in preference. This, however, is mere 
 matter of taste. 
 
 I was unfortunate in the time of my visit to Charles- 
 ton. On the day after my arrival, I sent round a consi- 
 derable number of letters, but found almost every body 
 out of town. Of the society of Charleston, therefore, I 
 can say little from personal observation. But I have 
 been assured from various quarters that it is very agree- 
 able, and have no reason to doubt the accuracy of the 
 statement. 
 
 Finding Charleston in this deserted state, I at once 
 determined on returning to New York. It had been 
 my intention to perform the journey by land, but I was
 
 350 CHARACTER OF POPULATION. 
 
 assured there was no object which would repay the in- 
 conveniences of the journey. The scenery was precise- 
 ly similar to that of which I had already seen so much; 
 the people not materially different; and I confess I had 
 become sick to the very soul, of stage-coach travelling in 
 the south. 
 
 My plans, however, were yet undecided, when, 
 walking along one of the quays, I saw the blue Peter 
 flying from the top-mast head of a New York packet. 
 The temptation was irresistible. I went on board, se- 
 cured berths, and in less than an hour bade farewell to 
 Charleston from the deck of the Saluda. 
 
 During my hurried progress through the Southern 
 States, I was rarely brought into contact with men of 
 opulence and intelligence. Indeed, I much question 
 whether Alabama and Georgia possess any considerable 
 class of gentlemen, in the sense in which that term is 
 applicable to the better order of the inhabitants of the 
 northern cities. But in South Carolina it is otherwise. 
 There is a large body of landed proprietors, who are 
 men of education and comparative refinement; and who, 
 though publicly advocating the broadest principles of 
 democracy, are in private life aristocratic and exclusive. 
 Like the Virginians, they are of blood purely English, 
 and disposed to relinquish no claim, which a descent 
 from several generations of respectable ancestors can be 
 understood to confer. 
 
 The poles are not more diametrically opposed, than a 
 native of the States south of the Potomac, and a New- 
 Englander. They differ in every thing of thought, 
 feeling, and opinion. The latter is a man of regular and 
 decorous habits, shrewd, intelligent, and persevering; 
 phlegmatic in temperament, devoted to the pursuits of 
 gain, and envious of those who are more successful than 
 himself. The former I speak of the opulent and edu- 
 cated is distinguished by a high-mindedness, generosity, 
 and hospitality, by no means predicable of his more east- 
 ern neighbours. He values money only for the enjoy- 
 ments it can procure, is fond of gaiety, given to social 
 pleasures, somewhat touchy and choleric, and as eager 
 to avenge an insult as to show a kindness. To fight a 
 duel in the New England States would, under almost
 
 ARRIVAL AT NEW YORK. 351 
 
 any circumstances, be disgraceful. To refuse a challenge, 
 to tolerate even an insinuation derogatory from personal 
 honour, would be considered equally so in the South. 
 
 In point of manner, the Southern gentlemen are deci- 
 dedly superior to all others of the Union. Being more 
 dependent on social intercourse, they are at greater pains, 
 perhaps, to render it agreeable. There is more spirit 
 and vivacity about them, and far less of that prudent 
 caution, which, however advantageous on the exchange, 
 is by no means prepossessing at the dinner-table, or in, 
 the drawing-room. When at Washington, I was a good 
 deal thrown into the society of members from the South, 
 and left it armed, by their kindness, with a multitude of 
 letters, of which I regret that my hurried progress did 
 not permit me to avail myself. Many of them were 
 men of much accomplishment, and I think it probable 
 that Englishmen unconnected with business would ge- 
 nerally prefer the society of gentlemen of this portion of 
 the Union to any other which the country affords. 
 
 In passing the bar, the Saluda unfortunately ran 
 aground, but was soon floated by the returning tide. No 
 other accident occurred. Our voyage was prosperous, 
 and the pleasure of inhaling the pure sea-breeze, instead 
 of an atmosphere poisoned by marsh exhalations, very 
 great. In six days, I had the satisfaction of again find" 
 ing myself at New York. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 JOURNEY TO NIAGARA THE FALLS. 
 
 IN one respect New York was somewhat different 
 from what 1 remembered it. The gay season had passed. 
 There were no routs, no balls, few parties of any sort; 
 all was gravity and family seclusion. Some families 
 had removed to the country ; others were preparing for 
 a trip to Canada or Boston. Still I had the good fortune
 
 352 WEST POINT. 
 
 to encounter many of my former friends, with whom I 
 enjoyed the pleasure of renewing my intercourse. 
 
 I believe this pleasure, unsupported by reasons of 
 greater cogency, made me imagine a fortnight's breathing- 
 time to be necessary, between the journey just accom- 
 plished, and that which I yet meditated to Niagara and 
 Quebec. Nothing of any consequence, however, oc- 
 curred during this interval; and as I always found the 
 flight of time to be unusually rapid at New York, the 
 period fixed for departure soon came. 
 
 On the 30th of May, I ran up the Hudson to West 
 Point, about fifty miles from New York. The scenery, 
 now clad in all the verdure of summer, certainly tran- 
 scended every thing I had ever seen on a scale so exten- 
 sive. What struck me as chiefly admirable, was the 
 fine proportion of the different features of the landscape. 
 Taken separately, they were not much. Every one has 
 seen finer rocks and loftier mountains, and greater mag- 
 nificence of forest scenery, but the charm lay in the com- 
 bination, in that exquisite harmony of detail which pro- 
 duces if I may so write a synthetic beauty of the 
 highest order. 
 
 " 'TIs not a lip or cheek, we beauty call, 
 But the joint force, and full result of all" 
 
 The Hudson, in truth, is one of nature's felicities. 
 Every thing is in its proper place, and of the dimensions 
 most proper to contribute to the general effect. Add 
 elevation to the mountains, and the consequence of the 
 river would be diminished. Increase the expanse of the 
 river, and you impair the grandeur of the mountains. As 
 it is, there is a perfect subordination of parts, and the re- 
 sult is something on which the eye loves to gaze, and the 
 heart to meditate, which tinges our dreams with beauty, 
 and often in distant lands will recur, unbidden, to the 
 imagination. 
 
 At West Point is a national establishment for the edu- 
 cation of young men destined for the army. I had letters 
 to Colonel Thayer, the commandant, a clever and intelli- 
 gent officer, who has made it his pleasure, as well as his 
 business, to acquire an intimate knowledge of tactic in all 
 its branches. By him, I was conducted over the esta-
 
 HYDE PARK. 353 
 
 blishment, and in the system of discipline and education 
 found much to approve. The cadets wear uniform, and 
 are habitually inured to the disagreeables so I remem- 
 ber I used to think them of garrison duty. In the eve- 
 ning the young gentlemen displayed their proficiency in 
 practical gunnery, and with some light pieces made se- 
 veral good shots at a target across the river. The dis- 
 tance, I believe, was about eight hundred yards. The 
 guns, however, were not served in a military manner, nor 
 with that speed and regularity which are essential to the 
 practical efficiency of the arm. 
 
 I may also observe, that the carriage of the cadets was 
 less soldier-like than might be wished. In most of them, 
 I remarked a certain slouch about the shoulders, which 
 demanded the judicious application of back-boards and 
 dumb bells. But, in truth, the remark is applicable to 
 the whole population. Colonel Thayer himself is almost 
 the only man whom I chanced to encounter in my tra- 
 vels, who appeared to me to possess any thing of the true 
 military bearing. In him it was perfect. I believe he 
 might brave the criticism of a Sergeant-Major of the 
 Guards. 
 
 Having passed a pleasant day at West Point, I pro- 
 ceeded to Dr. Hosack's about thirty miles distant. I had 
 before visited Hyde Park in the depth of winter, I now 
 beheld its fine scenery adorned by the richest luxuriance 
 of verdure. Poet or painter could desire nothing more 
 beautiful. There are several villas in the neighbourhood 
 tenanted by very agreeable families, and had it been ne- 
 cessary to eat lotus in the United States, I should cer- 
 tainly have selected Hyde Park as the scene of my re- 
 past. But I had determined on returning to England in 
 the course of the summer, and was, therefore, anxious to 
 proceed on my journey. On the third day, I bade fare- 
 well to my kind friends for so, I trust, they will permit 
 me to call them and again embarked on the Hudson. 
 
 The scenery above Hyde Park assumes a new charac- 
 ter. The river leads through a gently undulating coun^ 
 try, and its banks present a succession of agreeable villas. 
 I passed the Catskill mountains with regret. Their as- 
 pect is fine and commanding, and I was assured the views 
 from the summit are very splendid. I was yet unde- 
 
 45
 
 354 SHAKER VILLAGE. 
 
 cided whether I should visit them, when a summons to 
 dinner occasioned an adjournment of the debate. When 
 1 returned to the deck, we had passed the Catskill land- 
 ing-place, and I continued my route to Albany. 
 
 Albany is the capital of the State of New York. It is 
 finely situated on the brow of a hill, which rises from 
 the margin of the river. On the summit stands the State- 
 house, grandiloquently called the Capitol, a building of 
 some extent, but no beauty. None of the public build- 
 ings present any thing remarkable, but the town has an 
 antique appearance, rare in this country, and contains 
 some of the primitive and picturesque buildings erected 
 by the Dutch settlers. The streets struck me as being 
 particularly clean, and the general aspect of the place is 
 pleasing. 
 
 I had heard much of a Shaker village in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and the day following being Sunday, I drove 
 to it with the view of seeing their form of worship. The 
 name of this peaceful settlement is Niskayuma, and its 
 inhabitants possess a valuable estate of about two thou- 
 sand acres, which their labour has brought into high cul- 
 tivation. These simple enthusiasts hold every thing in 
 common, and their tenets, so far as I could understand 
 them, are curious enough. 
 
 Anne Lee, a woman who came to America many years 
 ago, and brought with her the gift of tongues and of pro- 
 phecy, is the object of peculiar veneration. With such 
 evidences of inspiration, she of course became the founder 
 of a sect. Though herself the wife of an honest blacksmith, 
 Mrs. Lee inculcated the indispensable necessity of abso- 
 lute and entire celibacy, which, on spiritual grounds, 
 she maintained to be essential to salvation. Sensual en- 
 joyment of every kind was expressly forbidden, and 
 though such tenets were little calculated to allure the fair 
 or the young, Mother Anne contrived to gather about 
 her a society of disappointed maidens and withered ba- 
 chelors, of all, in short, who, having survived the age 
 of passion, were content to make a merit of resigning 
 pleasures in which they could no longer participate. The 
 number of her followers was increased by the accession 
 of a few less antiquated enthusiasts, and an occasional 
 accouchement among the fair sisterhood affords matter of
 
 SHAKER SERMON. 355 
 
 jest to the profane. Mother Anne has long gone the 
 way of all flesh, but her memory is yet (t green in the 
 souls " of her followers, who speak of her as a pure in- 
 carnation of the Divine Spirit. 
 
 When I arrived, public worship had already com- 
 menced, and the congregation were engaged in singing. 
 The music was monotonous, and the words nonsense, or 
 something nearly approaching it. The men were drawn 
 up on one side of the chapel and the women on the other. 
 The latter were the veriest scarecrows I had ever seen 
 in the female form. They were old and cadaverous, 
 with the exception of one bright-eyed girl, whose ex- 
 pression bespoke a temperament little fitted for the as- 
 cetic abstinence of her sect. The men were poor-look- 
 ing creatures enough, but their appearance, on the whole, 
 was a little better than that of the women. 
 
 Both, however, were critically clean. The men were 
 without coats, but rejoiced in snuff-coloured waistcoats, 
 and unimaginables, and white neckcloths. The charms of 
 the women were displayed in gray gowns, and white 
 muslin handkerchiefs, and caps nicely plaited. 
 
 The singing concluded, we had something like a sermon. 
 One of the brethren advanced to the centre of the room 
 or chapel, and commenced in a calm deliberate tone, as 
 follows: 
 
 " We can do nothing of ourselves. Every thing good 
 in us is the gift of God. Yet man is very fond of rely- 
 ing on himself and his own efforts, and almost all those 
 who have been distinguished by spiritual gifts, through 
 all the ages of the world, have had this grand defect in 
 their character. But the truth is, my brethren, we are all 
 helpless without the gift of grace, and if we, who have 
 separated ourselves from the world, retiring from its 
 temptations, and renouncing its pomps and vices, find 
 ground for spiritual pride in this devotion of ourselves 
 to the service of God, we are guilty of a very great sin, 
 and a sin more unpardonable in us than others, because 
 our light is greater. I would impress this on you, there- 
 fore, not to be vainglorious on account of the favour you 
 have found in the sight of God, but to go on steadily, 
 humbly, gratefully, and submissively; looking neither to 
 the right hand nor the left, remembering always that
 
 356 SINGING AND DANCING. 
 
 your kingdom is not of this world, but of another and a 
 better. Thank God for all his mercies, my brethren, but 
 be not, therefore, puffed up." 
 
 After this we had another song, quite as nonsensical 
 as the former, which was followed by a second discourse. 
 The preacher on this occasion was a fat, jolly-looking 
 man, whose comfortable plight formed something of a 
 contrast with the mummy-like aspect of his brethren. 
 The only remarkable portion of the discourse was the 
 peroration, in which he addressed himself particularly to 
 those, who, like myself, had visited the meeting from 
 motives of mere curiosity. 
 
 " Strangers, 1 would address myself to you. What 
 motives brought you to this place of worship, I know 
 not. Some may have come to join in our devotions, 
 but the greater part of you, I fear, have come only to see 
 the peculiarities of our worship. To this we do not ob- 
 ject. We court no concealment in any thing we do, 
 but we demand of you, in return, that you offer no inde- 
 cent interruption to our religious solemnities. I beseech 
 you to remember that we are Christians like yourselves 
 that we are engaged in offering adoration to the great 
 God who fashioned us all as we are. If you do not re- 
 spect us, respect yourselves; and, however ridiculous our 
 forms may appear to you, we entreat that you will, at 
 least, not interrupt our devotional exercises by any de- 
 monstration of contempt." 
 
 After such an appeal it became impossible for the most 
 graceless spectator to offer any thing like insult to these 
 simple fanatics. During the dance which followed, how- 
 ever, I confess I had a good deal of difficulty in maintain- 
 ing due composure. On a given signal the whole con- 
 gregation began singing and dancing with all their vi- 
 gour. I observed that the more youthful and active in- 
 troduced a few supererogatory gyrations, which were 
 not attempted by the senior members; and one boy, in 
 particular, signalized himself by a series of spirited salta- 
 tions, not very dissimilar to the Highland fling. My 
 attention, too, was attracted by the two preachers, who, 
 though somewhat fallen into " the sere, the yellow leaf," 
 kept capering about with the lightness and grace of cart- 
 horses, till the very end of the performance.
 
 BAPTISM. 357 
 
 The dance laste'd for about a quarter of an hour, and I 
 could not help sympathizing with the suffering perfor- 
 mers. The weather was intensely hot, and the whole 
 corps de ballet were thrown by their movements into a 
 state of the most profuse perspiration. This circumstance 
 produced a change in the condition of the atmosphere by 
 no means pleasant, and, without waiting the conclusion 
 of the service, I took my departure. 
 
 From the Shaker settlement I drove to the Cohoes 
 Falls, about five miles distant. The Mohawk, a river 
 about as large as the Severn, comes foaming down, 
 throws itself over a precipice of about seventy feet with 
 great majesty, and then flows calmly onwards to its con- 
 fluence with the Hudson. The sight was very noble; 
 and, after enjoying it about half an hour, I set out on my 
 return to Albany. 
 
 The junction of the Champlain and Erie canals, near 
 Troy, is considered a sight to which the admiration of 
 travellers is justly due. Why, I know not. To my ig- 
 norant vision there seemed nothing remarkable. The 
 canals are united, and there is an end of it. Of the 
 amount of difficulties overcome I do not pretend to be 
 qualified to judge. 
 
 A little above Troy I observed a crowd collected on 
 the river, and found they were attracted by the ceremo- 
 ny of baptism, which two Baptist clergymen were per- 
 forming on sundry proselytes. The first subject of im- 
 mersion was an old lady, whose cold and shivering ap- 
 pearance excited my compassion. She was led in by 
 one of the clergymen till the water reached her middle, 
 when they both somewhat rudely, I thought seized 
 the dowager by the shoulders, and throwing her back 
 with a sudden jerk, soused her over head and ears in 
 the water before she seemed aware of their intentions. 
 Luckily, the poor woman escaped absolute suffocation, 
 and, with an aspect something like that of a drowned 
 rat, was supported to the shore. Her sufferings, howe- 
 ver, did not terminate here. The word snuff was writ- 
 ten on the nose of one of the clergymen so legibly, that 
 he who ran might read. I observed that immediately 
 after employing his pocket-handkerchief in its most ap- 
 propriate function, he applied it to the eyes of the pa- 
 tient matron! This was even worse than the ducking.
 
 358 THE FALLS OF TRENTON. 
 
 At Albany, a traveller has the choice of proceeding 
 by stage-coach or canal. I preferred the former, and, 
 accordingly, secured places for Utica. The coach was 
 full, and the heat so excessive, that, till we reached Sche- 
 nectady, I do not know that I ever experienced greater 
 suffering. There, however, our fellow-travellers em- 
 barked on the canal, and the rest of the journey was per- 
 formed in comparative comfort. The road one of the 
 roughest I ever travelled winds along the banks of the 
 Mohawk, through a country which presents many noble 
 features. In point of cultivation, however, it appeared 
 very inferior to what might be expected in so populous 
 a district. The greater part of the journey was per- 
 formed by night, yet not in darkness; for, we had the 
 light of a brilliant moon, which softened without ob- 
 scuring the landscape. 
 
 About eleven o'clock on the following morning, we 
 reached Utica, a handsome and flourishing town, which 
 exhibits every external mark of prosperity. After dinner, 
 I engaged what is called an "extra exclusive" to convey 
 me to Trenton Falls, a distance of fifteen miles. We 
 did not reach Trenton till after nightfall, and I was 
 obliged to delay the gratification of my curiosity till the 
 following morning. The inn, however, was very com- 
 fortable, and, after the jolting of the previous night, the 
 attractions of clean sheets and a well stuffed mattress 
 were by no means inconsiderable. After breakfast, on 
 the following morning, I sallied forth to visit the falls. 
 They are formed by the West Canada creek in its pas- 
 sage through a glen or ravine about two miles in length, 
 in the course of which it descends about three hundred 
 feet. As may be supposed in such circumstances, the 
 stream rushes onward with great violence. There are 
 several falls, none of which are without beauty, and the 
 whole scenery struck me as bearing strong resemblance 
 to that of Roslin glen, to which, except in romantic as- 
 sociations, it is in nothing inferior. 
 
 The fall which pleased me most is one in which the tor- 
 rent takes a double leap, the last of which is about forty 
 feet. The surrounding rocks are grand and precipitous, 
 and their crevices afford nourishment to trees which are 
 writhed into a thousand fantastic forms. There is one 
 sad drawback, however. At precisely the most beauti-
 
 JOURNEY BY CANAL. 359 
 
 ful point of the scene there has been erected what, 
 good reader ? but you will never guess a dram shop ! 
 
 How utterly so wild and beautiful a scene is degraded 
 by the presence of a drinking shop, may readily be con- 
 ceived ; and the outrage on taste, and even decency, is the 
 more gratuitous, since the spot on which the building is 
 erected is not above a mile from the hotel. 
 
 On such occasions, one is betrayed unawares into 
 writing strongly. But cui bono ? A writer may appeal to 
 a moral sense, but he cannot create one ; and, assuredly, 
 the man whose imagination turns to the brandy bottle, 
 even when gazing on the noble scenery of Trenton, will 
 think of it in the death-agony. 
 
 Being still sore from the jolting of the stage coach, I 
 determined to proceed by the canal, and at two o'clock, 
 on the following day, went on board the passage-boat. 
 There were about forty passengers ; the heat of the ca- 
 bin was intolerable. Driven from within, I took a seat 
 on deck, but without diminution of suffering. I found 
 myself exposed to the full fervour of the sun, and the 
 boards were literally burning to the feet. Add to this 
 the nuisance of the numerous bridges, the arches of 
 which are barely high enough to admit the passage of 
 the boat, and leave to the passengers only the option of 
 descending every time they approach one, or of being 
 swept off by a more summary process. 
 
 The country through which we passed, consisted, chief- 
 ly, of marshy forest, such as I had traversed for many a 
 weary league in the south. Every here and there a 
 town had sprung up in the wilderness, but with nothing 
 to interest the spectator, who sees every where but one 
 process and one result. He looks for the picturesque, and 
 finds the profitable, and wishes from the bottom of his 
 heart they had been found compatible. 
 
 The Americans are dilettanti in nomenclature. In fol- 
 lowing the course of the Erie Canal, a traveller will pass 
 through Troy, Amsterdam, Frankfort, Manlius, Syra- 
 cuse, Canton, Jordan, Port Byron, Montezuma, Rome, 
 Smith's, Dumkin's, Carthage, Salina, Rochester, Ogden, 
 Geddes, and Palmyra. The Eternal City here dwindles 
 into " a half-shire town, which contains a court house and 
 gaol, and is pleasantly situated on the old canal !" So
 
 360 CANAL PASSAGE BOAT. 
 
 says the guide-book. Amsterdam is more fortunate, for 
 it boasts " a post-office, a church, and about fifty houses 
 or stores." Palmyra is charmingly located on Mud 
 Creek. Carthage derived its consequence from a bridge 
 which " fell under the pressure of its own weight." The 
 maxim, delenda est Carthago, therefore, is likely to be re- 
 alized in the new world, as well as in the old. 
 
 Such absurdities are fair game, for they have their 
 origin in vanity. To adorn their cities by monuments of 
 art is an expensive indulgence, from which Americans are 
 content to abstain. But pretension of name costs nothing, 
 and is found every where. 
 
 During the day the number of passengers increased to 
 about sixty, including twenty ladies; and where this large 
 party were to be stowed for the night, it was not easy to 
 anticipate. In the cabin there was no appearance of 
 sleeping berths by day, but at night ranges of shelves 
 were put up, and the chairs, benches, and tables, were 
 all converted into beds. The portion of the cabin des- 
 tined for the use of the ladies was obscured from observa- 
 tion by a curtain. In order to prevent partiality, there 
 was a sort of lottery, in which each person drew forth a 
 number which determined his position for the night. 
 Fortune fixed me on the table, and there I lay with the 
 knee of one man thrust directly into my stomach, and 
 with my feet resting upon the head of another. The 
 sheets were offensively dirty, and the blankets not much 
 better. 
 
 The Americans dread the circulation of pure air; and 
 those in the vicinity of a window insisted on its being 
 closed. Under these circumstances, the atmosphere be- 
 came not only hot, but poisonous, and the act of inhala- 
 tion was performed with disgust. Then there were 
 legions of moschetoes, whose carnival, from the use they 
 made of it, seemed to have been preceded by a lent; and 
 to crown all, at least a dozen noses were snoring bass 
 to an unmelodious treble which proceeded from the ladies' 
 division of the cabin. 
 
 One night of this kind was enough; and so, at Mon- 
 tezuma, being anxious to see something of the smaller 
 lakes, of whose beauty I had heard a great deal, I removed 
 into another packet-boat, and diverging into a branch
 
 JEMIMA WILSON. 361 
 
 canal which communicates with the Seneca lake, at night 
 found myself in Geneva. The town makes a handsome 
 display on an eminence near the northern extremity of 
 the lake. It contains some three or four thousand in- 
 habitants, several churches, and a school dignified by the 
 name of a college. Near to the lake are a few pretty 
 villas, and in the town a considerable number of respect- 
 able houses, built of brick or stone. Geneva is the de- 
 pot of the produce of the neighbouring country. It 
 comes by the lake, and is then embarked on the canal for 
 New York. 
 
 Seneca is a fine sheet of water, undoubtedly, but its 
 scenery so far as I saw it presents nothing of remark- 
 able beauty. It is about forty miles long, with a mean 
 breadth of three or four. It is navigated by a steam-boat, 
 in which, had the weather been cooler, I should probably 
 have made a trip. As it was, the temptations of an arm- 
 chair and a cool veranda were irresistible. 
 
 The banks of the Seneca, like those of the Gareloch, 
 have been the chosen seat of miracles. Some years ago, 
 a woman called Jemima Wilkinson, announced herself as 
 the Saviour of the world, and attracted a few followers 
 somewhat more mad than herself. While her miraculous 
 endowments were displayed only in the jabbering of un- 
 known tongues, and unintelligible predictions, she stood 
 on safe ground, but unluckily her ambition pointed to 
 the honour of more palpable miracles. " Near Rapelyeas 
 ferry," says the Northern Tourist, " the frame is still 
 standing which Jemima constructed to try the faith of 
 her followers. Having approached within a few hundred 
 yards of the shore, she alighted from an elegant car- 
 riage, and the road being strewed by her followers with 
 white handkerchiefs, she walked to the platform, and 
 having announced her intention of walking across the 
 lake on the water, she stepped ankle-deep into the clear 
 element, when suddenly pausing, she addressed the mul- 
 titude, inquiring whether they had faith that she could 
 pass over, for if otherwise, she could not; and on re- 
 ceiving an affirmative answer, returned to her carriage, 
 declaring, that as they believed in her power, it was un- 
 necessary to display it. " Miss Campbell, I believe, with 
 
 46
 
 362 FALLS OF THE GENESEE. 
 
 similar pretensions, has been equally prudent in putting 
 them to the proof. 
 
 On the night following, I left Geneva, by the Roches- 
 ter stage. By day-dawn, we reached Canandaigua, which 
 stands at the northern extremity of a beautiful lake, of 
 which I caught a few glimpses in the moonshine. Ca- 
 nandaigua is a pretty village, and certainly the situation 
 has a good deal of charm. More attention seems to have 
 been paid here than elsewhere, to external decoration. 
 The better houses are surrounded by ornamental trees, 
 and the number of these is so considerable as to give a 
 character to the place. In general, however, I have not 
 been struck with, what in this country are called, " beau- 
 tiful villages." These consist almost uniformly of rows 
 of white framework houses, with green blinds and shut- 
 ters; but they are flimsy in point of material, and the co- 
 lours are too glaring to harmonize with the surrounding 
 scenery. 
 
 We reached Rochester under the influence of a burn- 
 ing sun. The hotel was excellent, and the luxury of 
 eold baths, and the civility of the landlord, induced me 
 to delay progress to the following day. In the cool of 
 the evening, I strolled out to see the falls of the Genesee. 
 The height of the uppermost is considerable, being about 
 ninety feet, and the water rushes over it gracefully 
 enough, but the vicinity of sundry saw and corn mills 
 has destroyed the romantic interest which invested it in 
 the days when " the cataract blew his trumpet from the 
 steep," amid the stillness of the surrounding forest. 
 
 The old proverb de gustibus, &cc. receives illustration 
 in every country. An eccentric man, called Sam Patch, 
 having an aversion to honest industry, made it his pro- 
 fession to jump over all the water-falls in the country. 
 Niagara was too much for him, but he sprang from a 
 lofty rock, some distance below the Horse-shoe fall, with 
 impunity. His last jump was at the fall I have just de- 
 scribed, of the Genesee, in the autumn of 1829. From 
 a scaffold, elevated twenty-five feet above the table rock, 
 making a descent, altogether, of a hundred and twenty- 
 five feet, he fearlessly plunged into the boiling caldron 
 beneath. From the moment of his immersion, he was 
 seen no more. His body was not discovered for many
 
 THE RIDGE ROAD. 363 
 
 months, and was at length found at the mouth of the ri- 
 ver, six miles below. 
 
 Rochester is a place worth seeing. Twenty years ago 
 there was not a house in the neighbourhood, and now 
 there is a town, containing thirteen thousand good Ame- 
 ricans and true, with churches, banks, theatres, and all 
 other oppidan appurtenances to match. Such growth is 
 more like forcing in a hot-bed, than the natural progress 
 of human vegetation. For a great deal of its prosperity, 
 Rochester is indebted to the Erie canal, which brought 
 its advantageous proximity to Lake Ontario into full 
 play. The canal runs through the centre of the town, 
 and crosses the Genesee by an aqueduct, which, accord- 
 ing to the Northern Tourist, " cost rising of 80,000 dol- 
 lars," whatever sum that may amount to. There are 
 several streets in Rochester which might be backed at 
 reasonable odds against any in Hull or Newcastle, to say 
 nothing of Cork, Falmouth, or Bervvick-upon-Tweed. 
 The appearance of the shops indicates the prevalence of 
 respectable opulence. Those of the jewellers display a 
 stock of Paris trinkets and silver snuff-boxes. There 
 are silks and Leghorn bonnets for the seduction of the 
 ladies, and the windows of the tailors are adorned by 
 coloured prints of gentlemen in tight fitting, swallow- 
 tails, with the epigraph, " New York fashions for May." 
 
 After passing a comfortable day and night in the Ea- 
 gle tavern, which I strongly recommend to all future tra- 
 vellers, I took my departure from Rochester in the Lock- 
 port stage. We travelled by the " ridge road," which 
 is composed of hard sand, and extends along what has 
 evidently in former times been the embankment of On- 
 tario. This ridge road, therefore, is entirely of nature's 
 making, and I shall die in the belief that it is the very 
 best in the United States. The coach rolled on as 
 smoothly as it could have done between London and 
 St. Albans, and I began to think of reading, to have at- 
 tempted which, in other portions of my peregrination, 
 would have been strongly indicative of insanity. 
 
 I am aware of little which merits record in the jour- 
 ney to Lockport, except the unwonted luxury in which 
 it was performed. Towards evening, we passed a camp 
 meeting, to which several of the passengers directed
 
 364 HISTORY OF MORMONISM. 
 
 their steps, and which, under other circumstances, I 
 should have been glad to visit. We passed, also, several 
 parties of what were called Mormonites, going to join a 
 settlement established by their founder, in Ohio. Rela- 
 tive to this sect, of which I never before heard, I gleaned 
 the following particulars from one of the passengers. A 
 bankrupt storekeeper, whose name, I think, was Smith, 
 had an extraordinary dream. It directed him to go 
 alone to a particular spot, distinctly indicated, where he 
 was to dig to a certain depth. This dream was, of course, 
 treated as a mere delusion, and, as is usual in such cases, 
 was thrice repeated, with denunciation of heavy punish- 
 ment, in case of disobedience. 
 
 In this emergency, Smith judged it more prudent to 
 shoulder his spade, than by farther obstinacy to excite 
 the vengeance of some unearthly intelligence. Having 
 dug to the requisite depth in the place commanded, he 
 found a book with golden clasps and cover, and a pair of 
 elegantly mounted spectacles, somewhat old-fashioned to 
 be sure, but astonishing magnifiers, and possessing qua- 
 lities which it might puzzle Sir David Brewster to ex- 
 plain on optical principles. 
 
 Smith had some difficulty in undoing the clasps of this 
 precious volume, but on opening it, though his eyes 
 were good, it appeared to contain nothing but blank pa- 
 per. It then occurred to him to fit on his spectacles, 
 when, lo! the whole volume was filled with certain 
 figures and pot-hooks to him unintelligible. Delighted 
 with his good fortune, Smith trudged home with the vo- 
 lume in his pocket and the spectacles on his nose, happy 
 as bibliomaniac who has been lucky enough to purchase 
 some rare Editio Princeps " dog cheap " from the ig- 
 norant proprietor of an obscure book-stall. On reaching 
 his own house, his first care was to secure his miraculous 
 treasures from profane observation; his second, to copy 
 out a page or two of the characters, and look about for 
 an interpreter. His search was long fruitless, but, 
 at length, he hit on precisely the two individuals who 
 were qualified conjointly for the office. One of these 
 gentlemen possessed the faculty of reading the hiero- 
 glyphics, and the other of interpreting them. It then 
 appeared that the volume in question was entitled the
 
 QUEENSTON. 365 
 
 book of Mormon, a converted Rabbi, who flourished in 
 the clays of our Saviour, or shortly after, and who, by 
 the aid of divine inspiration, wrote the treatise in ques- 
 tion in elucidation of all the dark points of religion, 
 which, to the present day, continue to puzzle theolo- 
 gians. 
 
 Smith's worldly prospects now brightened. With 
 this invaluable treatise in his strong box, he commenced 
 business afresh, under the firm of Mormon, Smith, and 
 Co., and appears to possess an unlimited credit on the cre- 
 dulity of his followers. He has set up an establishment 
 something similar to that of Mr. Owen, and already 
 boasts a considerable number of opulent believers. 
 
 We slept at Lockport, in a dirty and uncomfortable ta- 
 vern. In the morning we were again in motion. At 
 Lewistown, a village on the frontier, I quitted the stage, 
 and despatched a messenger across the river to secure 
 an extra exclusive for Niagara. The delay occasioned by 
 breakfast to an impatient traveller is generally not great, 
 and entering the ferry-boat, I soon found myself once 
 more on British ground. At Queenston, judging from 
 their accent, the majority of the inhabitants are Scotch; 
 and certainly to my ear the Doric of my country never 
 sounded so musical before. About a mile from the land- 
 ing-place, are the heights of Queenston, which, during 
 the late war, were gallantly and successfully defended 
 by a small body of British, under Sir Isaac Brock, against 
 an American force nearly ten times their number. The 
 latter, however, consisted chiefly of militia ; and had the 
 achievement not unfortunately been rendered memora- 
 ble by the death of the British leader, it would, proba- 
 bly, like most other events of the war, have been forgot- 
 ten. Its memory, however, has been perpetuated by the 
 erection of a trophy column on the summit of the height. 
 It is composed of freestone, and about a hundred and 
 twenty feet high. I am not sure that in point of archi- 
 tecture it is quite faultless. The shaft struck me as want- 
 ing height in proportion to its diameter, and the general 
 outline somewhat resembles that of an apothecary's phial. 
 Were it surmounted by a statue, the effect would un- 
 doubtedly be improved. 
 
 The Niagara at Queenston is about a quarter of a mile
 
 .366 ARRIVAL AT NIAGARA. 
 
 broad; the current is rapid, and the depth very great, 
 not less, I believe, than two hundred feet. The colour 
 of the water is a nondescript, and very beautiful shade 
 between azure and green. The banks for several miles 
 are high and precipitous, and covered with the primeval 
 forest. 
 
 Having reached Queenston, horses were immediately 
 harnessed to a light open carriage, and we rattled off 
 The distance is about seven miles, and the road very 
 tolerable. As we advanced, both eye and ear were 
 awake to detect indication of our increasing proximity to 
 the Falls. At length a cloud of white vapour, rising high 
 above the foliage of the distant forest, announced the 
 situation of the great cataract. Shortly after, I could 
 detect a hollow rumbling sound like that of thunder; but 
 though the distance was every instant diminishing, it did 
 not proportionally increase in loudness or intensity. 
 
 About twelve o'clock I found myself in Forsyth's ho- 
 tel, a large and not uncomfortable house, about half a 
 mile distant from the Great Horse-shoe Fall. It stands 
 upon a high level of table land, and from the upper bal- 
 cony the Falls are distinctly visible. To a stranger vi- 
 siting Niagara for the first time, I do not know that this 
 circumstance is very desirable, and I confess the view 
 did, in my own case, carry with it something of disap- 
 pointment. The truth is, that from Forsyth's you see 
 the upper portion of the Fall ; but at least one half of 
 the descent, the boiling caldron below, and the impene- 
 trable mass of vapour with which it is sublimely and 
 mysteriously encanopied, you do not see. 
 
 No sooner had I reached the hotel, than the morning, 
 which had been louring with dark and threatening 
 clouds, set in with an absolute tempest of wind and rain. 
 It was impossible to rest, however, before gazing on the 
 great wonder which I had travelled so far to behold; so 
 throwing on my cloak, I sallied forth, bidding defiance 
 to the elements. The banks which descend to the bed 
 of the river were very steep, and so slippery that I en- 
 countered more than one tumble in my progress. But 
 this was nothing; and most amply was 1 repaid for all 
 the troubles of my journey, when, in a few minutes, I 
 found myself standing on the very brink of this tremen- 
 dous, yet most beautiful cataract.
 
 FIRST IMPRESSION OF THE FALLS. 357 
 
 The spot from which I first beheld it was the Table rock, 
 and of the effect produced by the overwhelming sublimity 
 of the spectacle, it is not possible to imbody in words any 
 adequate description. The spectator at first feels as if 
 stricken with catalepsy. His blood ceases to flow, or rather 
 is sent back in overpowering pressure on the heart. He 
 gasps, " like a drowning man," to catch a mouthful of 
 breath. " All elements of soul and sense " are absorbed 
 in the magnitude and glory of one single object. The 
 past and future are obliterated, and he stands mute and 
 powerless, in the presence of that scene of awful splen- 
 dour on which his gaze is riveted. 
 
 In attempting to convey to those who have never visit- 
 ed the Falls, any notion of the impression which they 
 produce, I believe it impossible to escape the charge of 
 exaggeration. The penalty is one which I am prepared 
 to pay. But the objects presented by Niagara are un- 
 doubtedly among those which exercise a permanent in- 
 fluence on the imagination of the spectator. The day 
 the hour the minute when his eye first rested on the 
 Great Horse-shoe Fall, is an epoch in the life of any man. 
 He gazes on a scene of splendour and sublimity far greater 
 than the unaided fancy of poet or painter ever pictured. 
 He has received an impression which time cannot dimi- 
 nish, and death only can efface. The results of that sin- 
 gle moment will extend through a lifetime, enlarge the 
 sphere of thought, and influence the whole tissue of his 
 moral being. 
 
 I remained on the Table rock till drenched to the skin,, 
 and still lingered in the hope that some flash of the light- 
 ning which had become very vivid might disclose the 
 secrets of the cloudy and mysterious caldron, into which 
 the eye vainly endeavoured to penetrate. But I was dis- 
 appointed. Far overhead the fearful revelry of the ele- 
 ments still continued; but the lightning seemed to shun 
 all approach to an object of sublimity equal to its own. 
 
 My window in the hotel commanded a view of the 
 Falls, and their deep and hollow roar was at all times 
 distinctly audible. I mention this, because, during the 
 whole period of my stay, the circumstance was accom- 
 panied by serious annoyance. At night, it was impos- 
 sible to enjoy any thing which could be called sleep. 
 Whenever I closed my eyes, there was a torrent foaming
 
 368 FORM OP THE GREAT FALL. 
 
 before them. Amid the darkness of midnight I was still 
 gazing on the Horse-shoe, and the noise of the cataract, 
 mingling with these visions of a perturbed imagination, 
 contributed to keep up the delusion. My dreams were 
 of rapids and waterfalls, and the exhaustion produced by 
 this state of continual fever became so great, that by day 
 I often wandered to the quiet recesses of the forest, where, 
 undisturbed by the din of waters, I might enjoy a com- 
 fortable nap. 
 
 On the day after my arrival, the weather having for- 
 tunately become fine, my hours were devoted to the 
 Horse-shoe, which I viewed from every favourable point. 
 About half a mile below, there is a shantee or log tavern, 
 where brandy is attainable by gentlemen of sluggish tem- 
 perament, who, surrounded by such objects, still require 
 the stimulus of alcohol. From this tavern there is a cir- 
 cular wooden stair which leads down into the bed of the 
 river, and on descending, I found myself at once immersed 
 in a region of eternal moisture. By dint of scrambling 
 along the debris of the overhanging rocks, I contrived to 
 approach within a short distance of the Fall; and so 
 powerful is the impression here produced, that a consi- 
 derable time elapses before the spectator can command 
 his faculties in a sufficient degree to examine its details. 
 He stands amid a whirlwind of spray, and the gloom of 
 the abyss, the dark firmament of rock which threatens 
 destruction to the intruder, the terrors of the descending 
 torrent, the deep thunder of its roar, and the fearful con- 
 vulsion of the waters into which it falls, constitute the 
 features of a scene, the sublimity of which undoubtedly 
 extends to the very verge of horror. 
 
 The epithet of " the Horse-shoe" is no longer applica- 
 ble to the greater Fall. In the progress of those changes 
 which are continually taking place from the attrition of 
 the cataract, it has assumed a form which I should de- 
 scribe as that of a semihexagon. The vast body of water 
 in the centre of this figure, descends in one unbroken 
 sheet of vivid green, and contrasts finely with the awful 
 perturbation of the caldron. But towards either ex- 
 tremity it is different. The water there, at the very 
 commencement of its descent, is shivered into particles 
 inconceivably minute, and assumes a thousand beautiful
 
 ADVANCE BEHIND THE CASCADE. 
 
 forms of spires and pinnacles, radiant with prismatic co- 
 lours. 
 
 In the vast receptacle heneath, the water is so com* 
 minuted, and blended with air carried down with the 
 cascade probably to the depth of many hundred feet - 
 that none but substances of the greatest buoyancy could 
 possibly float on it. The appearance of the surface is 
 very remarkable. It is that of finely triturated silver, in 
 which, though the particles are in close proximity, there 
 is no amalgamation. The whole mass is in convulsive 
 and furious agitation, and continues so until, having re- 
 ceded to a considerable distance, the commotion gradu- 
 ally diminishes, and the water reassumes its ordinary? ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 It is possible to advance to a considerable distance be-* 
 hind the cascade, and I determined to accomplish the 
 achievement. Having marshalled my energies for the 
 undertaking, I continued to advance, but the tempest of 
 dense spray became suddenly so violent as apparently to 
 preclude the possibility of farther progress. I was dri- 
 ven back several yards, half suffocated, and entirely 
 blinded. But the guide encouraged me to proceed, andy 
 accordingly, Teucro duce, I made another and more suc- 
 cessful effort. Having penetrated behind the Fall, the 
 only footing was a ledge of rock, about two feet broad, 
 which was occasionally narrowed by projections in the 
 face of the cliff. But, even under these circumstances, 
 the undertaking is one of difficulty rather than of dan- 
 ger. A great portion of the air carried down by the ca- 
 taract is immediately disengaged, and the consequence 
 is, that an intruder has to encounter a strong breeze 
 which blows upwards from the caldron, and sometimes 
 even dashes him with unpleasant violence against the 
 rock along which he is scrambling. As a practical illus- 
 tration of this, our conductor plunged fearlessly down 
 the precipitous rock to the very edge of the gulf, and 
 was immediately blown back, with little effort of his- 
 own, to our narrow pathway. 
 
 At length, having advanced about fifty yards> the 
 guide informed me that farther progress was impossible.- 
 I bad certainly no objection to retrace my steps, for my 
 lungs played with extreme difficulty, and the hurricane 
 
 47
 
 370 SOUND OF THE CATARACT. 
 
 of wind and spray seemed to threaten utter extinction of 
 sight It was impossible, however, to depart without 
 gazing on the wonder I had visited. Far overhead was 
 a canopy of rock, behind the perpendicular cliff. In 
 front, the cascade a glorious curtain seemed to hang 
 between us and the world. One's feelings were those 
 of a prisoner. But never, surely, was there so magnifi- 
 cent a dungeon! 
 
 The noise of the great cataract is, certainly, far less 
 than might be expected. Even at its very brink, con- 
 versation may be carried on without any considerable 
 elevation of the voice. The sound is that of thunder in 
 its greatest intensity, deep, unbroken, and unchanging, 
 There is no hissing nor splashing; nothing which breaks 
 sharply on the ear; nothing which comes in any degree 
 into collision with the sounds of earth or air. Nothing 
 extrinsic can either add to, or diminish its volume. It 
 mingles with no other voice, and it absorbs none. It 
 Would be heard amid the roaring of a volcano, and yet 
 does not drown the chirping of a sparrow. 
 
 Visitors generally wish, however, for a greater crash 
 on the tympanum, for something to stun and stupify, 
 and return home complaining that Niagara is less noisy 
 than Trenton or the Cohoes. This is a mistake. The 
 volume of sound produced by the Horse-shoe Fall, is 
 far greater than they ever heard before, or, probably, 
 will ever hear again. When the atmosphere is in a con- 
 dition favourable to act as a conductor of sound, it may 
 be heard at a distance of fifteen, and even twenty miles. 
 A passenger in the coach, who lived six miles beyond 
 Lewiston, assured me, that, in particular states of the 
 barometer, the noise was there distinctly perceptible. 
 But it should be remembered that the great body of 
 sound is generated in a cavern far below the level of 
 the surrounding country, and fenced in on three sides by 
 walls of perpendicular rock. The noise vibrates from 
 side to side of this sunless cavity, and only a small por- 
 tion escapes into the upper air, through the dense canopy 
 of spray and, vapour by which it is overhung. As an 
 experiment, I employed a man to fire a musket below, 
 while I stood on the Table-rock. The report was cer- 
 tainly audible, but scarcely louder than that of a pop-gun.
 
 THE RAPIDS. 371 
 
 Having devoted three days to the Horse-shoe, I rode 
 up the river to survey its course above the Falls. Short- 
 ly after issuing from Lake Erie, the Niagara is divided 
 by a huge island about seven miles in length. Lower is 
 another island, of smaller dimensions, and having passed 
 these, the river is about two miles in breadth, and tran- 
 quil as a lake. At Chippewa, about three miles above 
 the Falls, navigation terminates. A short distance be- 
 low, the stream evidently begins to accelerate its mo- 
 tion. There are no waves, however, nor is there any 
 violent agitation of the current; nothing, in short, which 
 seems to presage the scene of terrific agitation so soon 
 to ensue. Farther down is Goat Island, which divides 
 the river into two branches, and forms the separation 
 between the Falls. It is at the higher extremity of this 
 island, that the rapids commence. 
 
 The grandeur of these rapids is worthy of the cata- 
 racts in which they terminate. In the greater branch, 
 the river comes foaming down with prodigious impetu- 
 osity, and presents a surface of agitated billows, dashing 
 wildly through the rocks and islands. This scene of 
 commotion continues till within about thirty yards of the 
 Fall. There the great body of the stream resumes its 
 tranquillity, and in solemn grandeur descends into the 
 cloudy and unfathomable abyss. Never was there a 
 nobler prelude to a sublime catastrophe! 
 
 I, at length, crossed to the Amercian side. If there 
 were no Horse-shoe Fall, the American would be the 
 wonder of the world. Seen from below, it is very no- 
 ble. The whole body of water is at once shattered into 
 foam, and comes down in a thousand feathery and fan- 
 tastic shapes, which, in a bright sunshine as I beheld 
 them were resplendently beautiful. But the form of 
 the American fall is unfortunate. A straight line is ne- 
 ver favourable to beauty, and the cataract descends, not 
 into a dark abyss of convulsed and fathomless waters, 
 but amid fragments of rock, from which it again rushes 
 onward to the main bed of the river. In short, a tra- 
 veller from the Canadian side has very little disposable 
 admiration to lavish on this splendid object, and general- 
 ly regards it with a cold and negligent eye. 
 
 In order to reach Goat Island, it is necessary to cross
 
 372 GOAT ISLAND. 
 
 two bridges. One of these, certainly, is a very remark- 
 able work. It leads across a rapid of tremendous velo- 
 city, and does honour to the engineer by whom it was 
 constructed. Goat Island is covered with wood, and by 
 the public spirit of its proprietor, General Porter, has 
 been intersected with walks, trending to the different 
 points from which the finest views may be commanded. 
 From this island, a bridge or rather pier has been 
 erected, which leads the spectator to a point where the 
 frail structure on which he stands is directly over the 
 great abyss of the Horse-shoe. As a trial of nerve, this 
 is very well. The man, assuredly, has strong ones, 
 who, from the extremity of this platform, can look be- 
 neath without quivering in every muscle. The prevail- 
 ing feeling is that of horror, and a spectator partial to 
 inordinate excitement, may here get enough of it. But 
 his eye can rest only on a small portion of the Fall, and 
 the position is decidedly unfavourable for pictorial 
 effect. 
 
 The bridge is but a fragile structure, and vibrates with 
 every motion, especially at the extremity, where it is ne- 
 cessarily without support. I stood there for about a quar- 
 ter of an hour, and ehould probably have remained longer, 
 but the near approach of a gentleman, whose dimensions 
 indicated a weight of twenty stone, induced me to re- 
 trace my steps with all convenient speed. 
 
 In the neighbourhood of the Falls, one can think of no- 
 thing else. ' They affect all thoughts and impulses, the 
 waking reverie, and the midnight dream. Every day of 
 my stay it was the same. Scarcely was breakfast con- 
 cluded, when, putting a book in my pocket, I sallied down 
 to the river, to lose and neglect the creeping hours of 
 time, in the neighbourhood of the Horse-shoe. About a 
 quarter of a mile above, the stream had deposited a num- 
 ber of huge trees, and I employed several men to launch 
 them successively into the stream, while I stood on the 
 extreme point of the Table rock to observe their descent. 
 One by one, the vast masses each fit for the mast of 
 "some high admiral" came floating down, sometimes 
 engulfed in the foaming eddies, sometimes driven with fu- 
 ry against the rocks, and then rushing onward with in? 
 creased velocity, till, reaching the smooth water, the fo-
 
 THE CALDRON. 373 
 
 rest giants were floated slowly onward to the brink of 
 the precipice, when they were seen no more. 
 
 Nothing which enters the awful caldron of the Fall, is 
 ever seen to emerge from it. Of three gun-boats which, 
 some years after the termination of the war, were sent 
 over the Falls, one fragment only, about a foot in length, 
 ever was discovered. It was found near Kingston, about 
 a month after the descent of the vessels.* 
 
 * Before quitting the subject of the Falls, I would willingly say some- 
 thing which may be of use to future visiters. It is usual with these per- 
 sons to take up their abode at Manchester, and give the first day or two 
 to the American Fall, and Goat Island. This strikes me as bad policy. 
 The American Fall is just fine enough to impair the subsequent impres- 
 sion of the Horse-shoe. By adhering to this routine, visiters come to 
 the latter with an appetite partially sated, and the effect of the first burst 
 of this sublime object, is diminished. I would advise all travellers, 
 therefore, to proceed first to Forsyth's, but, by no means, to indulge in 
 any preliminary view of the Falls from the windows or balcony. Let 
 the visiter repair at once to the Table rock, and there receive his first 
 impression of the cataract. I would recommend him next to proceed 
 lower down on the Canadian side, where there are many points from 
 which he may become master of the general grouping of the landscape. 
 His attention may then be directed to the rapids; and to see them to ad- 
 vantage, he should walk as far as Chippewa, and return with a little 
 scrambling and wading it is very possible by the margin of the river. 
 On the day following, let him descend to the bed of the river, and gaze 
 on the cataract from below. Having done so, he may cross to the Ame- 
 rican side, and from mid-way on the river, he will see the only view of 
 the Falls which I think it possible for the painter to give with any tiling 
 like adequate effect. Nothing, in truth, can be more splendid than the 
 amphitheatre of cataracts by which he there seems almost surrounded. 
 
 With regard to the time which a traveller should give to the Falls, it 
 is impossible to fix on any definite period. The imagination requires 
 some time to expand itself, in order to take in the vastness of the ob- 
 jects. At first, the agitation of nerve is too great. A spectator can only 
 gaze he cannot contemplate. For some days the impression of their 
 glory and magnitude will increase; and so long as this is the case, let 
 him remain. His time could not be better spent. He is hoarding up 
 a store of sublime memories for his whole future life. But intimacy- 
 such is our nature soon degenerates into familiarity. He will, at length, 
 begin to gaze on the scene around him with a listless eye. His imagi- 
 nation, in short, is palled with excess of excitement Let him watch 
 for this crisis, and whenever he perceives it, pack up his portmanteau 
 and depart Niagara can do nothing more for him, and it should be his 
 object to bear with him the deepest and most intense impression of its 
 glories. Let him dream of these, but return to them no more. A se^ 
 cond visit could only tend to unsettle and efface the impression of the 
 first. Were I within a mile of Niagara, I should turn my steps in the 
 opposite direction. Every passing year diminishes our susceptibility, 
 and who would voluntarily bring to such objects a cold heart, and faded 
 imagination ?
 
 374 CHARACTER OF SETTLERS. 
 
 The country around Niagara is picturesque, and in a 
 fine state of cultivation. English habits of agriculture 
 evidently prevail. There is a greater appearance of 
 neatness than I have seen any where in the United 
 States. The fences are in excellent order, and the fields 
 are not disfigured by stumps of decaying timber. The 
 farms are, in general, large ; many contain two hundred 
 acres of cleared land, and their owners are reputed weal- 
 thy. I dined with one of these gentlemen, and found 
 comfort combined with hospitality. But of the lower or- 
 ders in the Upper Province, it is impossible to speak fa- 
 vourably. They have all the disagreeable qualities of the 
 Americans, with none of that energy, and spirit of enter- 
 prise, which often convert a bad man into a useful citi- 
 zen. They are sluggish, obstinate, ignorant, offensive in 
 manner, and depraved in morals, without loyalty, and 
 without religion. Of course, in a country to which the 
 tide of emigration sets in so strongly, and a mass of im- 
 ported principle and intelligence is annually mingled with 
 that of native growth, such observations must necessarily 
 be limited in their application. I would be understood, 
 therefore, as speaking chiefly of the older settlers, who 
 consisted, in a great measure, of the refuse of disbanded 
 regiments, and of adventurers, who brought with them 
 neither capital nor character. Of late years, Canada has 
 been enriched by the addition of a number of naval and 
 military officers, whom these piping times of peace have 
 left without professional employment. Men of property 
 and enterprise have likewise embarked large sums in the 
 improvement of this fertile region; the expenditure of the 
 British government has enriched the province with works 
 of great splendour and utility; industry is unfettered, tax- 
 ation almost unknown ; and with such elements of pros- 
 perity, Canada may now safely be trusted to her own re- 
 sources.
 
 DEPARTURE FROM NIAGARA. 375 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 JOURNEY TO QUEBEC. 
 
 HAVING passed a week at Niagara, and seen the Falls 
 under every aspect, in cloud and sunshine, in storm and 
 calm, by star and moonlight, I took my departure. About 
 four miles below is a very remarkable whirlpool, which I 
 visited, on my way to Fort George. This whirpool is caused 
 by the protrusion of a bed of rock across the rectilinear 
 course of the river. The stream comes down with great im- 
 petuosity, and, when driven back by this obstacle, the cur- 
 rent whirls round the basin with prodigious violence, and 
 at length escapes in a direction nearly at right angles 
 with its former course. The water has the appearance 
 of molten lead, and the people in the neighbourhood de- 
 clare that from the eddies of this vortex nothing living 
 can escape. Even boats have been absorbed by them, 
 and, when this happens, there is no possibility of help from 
 the shore. The boat upsets, and the men are drowned; 
 or, if not, the boat is kept whirling round with the stream 
 for perhaps a fortnight together, and the men are starved. 
 Such were stated to be the horns of the dilemma. 
 
 Fort George is a military station at the mouth of the 
 river, and the works, originally built of turf, have been 
 suffered to go to decay. It is better it should be so, for 
 it would be easy at any time to throw up others, and all 
 immediate expense is avoided. On the opposite side is 
 the American Fort Niagara, which, though built of stone, 
 does not present, an aspect much more formidable than 
 its British rival. The latter was garrisoned by a party 
 of the 79th regiment, and I own the pleasure with which 
 I saw, in this remote district, our national flag and uni- 
 form was very great. I no longer felt as a stranger in 
 the land, and caught myself almost unconsciously doing, 
 the honours to a very pleasant party of Americans, 
 whom I accompanied in a ramble through the ruinous 
 entrenchments and dismantled works. 
 
 A steam-boat starts daily from Fort George, for York, 
 the capital of Upper Canada. I certainly never made a
 
 376 VOYAGE TO YORK, 
 
 trip in a more comfortable vessel. It was commanded by 
 a half-pay officer of the navy, and in point of cleanliness 
 and nicety of arrangement, formed a strong contrast to 
 the larger and more splendid vessels of the United States. 
 Our steamer started about twelve o'clock. In five hours 
 we had crossed the extremity of Lake Ontario, and were 
 safely landed in York. In a body of water so extensive, 
 one does not see a great deal of the scenery on shore.- 
 I saw enough, however, to convince me that the shores 
 of Ontario are flat and devoid of beauty. 
 
 York has few objects to interest a traveller. It stands 
 in a level and marshy country, and contains about five 
 thousand inhabitants. It was once I believe, twice 
 taken by the Americans during the war, and is, in truth, 
 a place scarcely capable of defence. There is no com- 
 manding point for the erection of a fort or battery; and 
 the only one at present existing, could afford very inade- 
 quate protection in case of attack. The place, however,, 
 is prosperous, and the price of building ground struck 
 me as very high. The Government house is of wood 
 rather a singular circumstance, since brick is a common- 
 building material in the town. 
 
 There is a college at York, which seems to be con- 
 ducted on judicious principles. The public buildings- 
 are just what they ought to be, plain and substantial. 
 In passing through the streets, I was rather surprised to 
 observe an affiche intimating that ice-creams were to be 
 had within. The weather being hot, I entered, and 
 found the master of the establishment to be an Italian. 
 I never eat better ice at Grange's. 
 
 Having passed a day at York, I sailed in a very noble 
 steamer, called the Great Britain, to Prescott, at the 
 northern extremity of the lake. Our day's voyage pre- 
 sented nothing remarkable, but at night it came on to 
 blow very hard, and our vessel, though one of the largest 
 class, kept pitching very disagreeably. In the morning 
 no land was visible, the waves were very high, and On- 
 tario not unsuccessfully seemed to ape the Atlantic. 
 Towards the middle of the lake the water is of a deep 
 blue colour. 
 
 We stopped for an hour at Kingston, a place of con- 
 siderable population, and certainly far better adapted
 
 LAKE OF THE THOUSAND ISLES. 377 
 
 than York to become the capital of the province. Its 
 situation is so strong, as to afford complete security from 
 a coup de main, and there is a fort which completely 
 commands both town and harbour. In the dock-yard, 
 there are two seventy-fours on the stocks, the building 
 of which was arrested by the peace. 
 
 During the war, Kingston, from its fine harbour, and 
 other natural advantages, was a place of much conse- 
 quence. Sackett's harbour, the rival American port, is 
 altogether inferior. The manner in which the lake war- 
 fare was conducted, affords a fine specimen of the folly 
 and ignorance of a British Government. Frigates were 
 sent out in frame to a country covered with the finest 
 timber, and the mere expense of conveying these from 
 Montreal to Kingston, was far greater than similar ves- 
 sels could have been built for on the spot. The Navy 
 Board were particularly careful that the armaments 
 should not suffer from a deficiency of water-casks, though 
 it was only necessary to drop a bucket to procure water 
 of the finest quality from the lake; and, to crown the ab- 
 surdity, an apparatus for distilling sea water was supplied 
 for each vessel ! 
 
 Having passed Kingston, we were fairly in the St 
 Lawrence, and the scenery became very striking. To- 
 wards evening, we passed through that portion of the 
 river called the Lake of the Thousand Isles. Nothing 
 could be more beautiful, when seen in the light of a bril- 
 liant sunset. The islands are of all sizes some only a 
 few yards in extent, others upwards of a mile. One 
 could fancy many of them to be what they are not 
 the retreat of innocence and peace. Their number has 
 never been correctly ascertained, but is generally esti- 
 mated to be near two thousand. 
 
 The voyage terminated at a miserable village called 
 Prescott, where we supped, slept, and breakfasted. I 
 had been fortunate in meeting a detachment of the 71st 
 regiment on board the Great Britain, who were about 
 to descend the St. Lawrence in batteaux to Montreal. 
 The officers obligingly invited me to join their party- 
 an arrangement too agreeable to be declined. The de- 
 tachment consisted of about fifty men and three officers, 
 and four boats were provided for their accommodation. 
 
 48
 
 378 THE RAPIDS. 
 
 One of these, intended for the officers, was fitted up 
 with an awning, and by a judicious arrangement of the 
 cloaks and portmanteaus, the whole party were com- 
 fortably provided with seats. 
 
 About ten o'clock we started. The boatmen were all 
 natives of the Lower province, and spoke English with 
 difficulty. A merrier set of beings it is scarcely possi- 
 ble to imagine. The buoyancy of their spirits was con- 
 tinually finding vent in song or laughter, unless when 
 we approached a rapid, or our commander, tired of the 
 incessant noise, thought proper to enjoin silence. 
 
 The rapids of the St. Lawrence rank in the first or- 
 der of sublimities. They are caused by a great contrac- 
 tion and sudden descent in the bed of the river, and are 
 generally accompanied by numerous islands and rocks in 
 the middle of the stream. The river, thus pent up and 
 obstructed, is thrown into violent perturbation, and 
 rushes onward with tremendous fury, roaring, dashing, 
 and foaming in a manner truly formidable to weak 
 nerves. When one looks at the turbulence of the wa- 
 ters, and the terrific eddies and whirlpools into which 
 they are thrown by the conflict of opposing currents, it 
 at first seems impossible that a boat can escape being 
 dashed to pieces, and, in truth, it is only by the most 
 skilful pilotage that such a consummation is avoided. 
 The life or death of a party is often decided by a single 
 touch of the helm, and it is occasionally necessary to 
 pass even within a yard or two of a spot where keel 
 never crossed without instant destruction. 
 
 On approaching any formidable rapid, all is silent on 
 board. The conductor is at the helm, and each of the 
 crew at his post. All eyes are steadfastly fixed on 
 the countenance of the helmsman, whose commands sel- 
 dom require to be expressed in words. Every look is un- 
 derstood and obeyed, with the promptitude of men who 
 know their peril. Accidents rarely occur, and, in truth, 
 the danger is just imminent enough to create a pleasant 
 degree of excitement in the voyager. He knows that he 
 is not safe, and that his chances of life depend on the 
 skill and steadiness of the boatmen. The probability of 
 safety, however, greatly preponderates; and the risk of 
 being dashed to mummy on the rocks, though sufficiently
 
 THE RAPIDS. 379 
 
 strong to excite his imagination, wants power to per- 
 turb it. 
 
 A few hours after leaving Prescott, we entered the 
 first rapid. It is called the Long Sault, and extends for 
 about nine miles. We did the whole distance in little 
 more than twenty minutes, and at some places our mo- 
 tion seemed rapid as that of a bird. One portion of the 
 rapid called Big Pitch, is particularly formidable. The 
 river is there divided by an island into two arms of near- 
 ly equal dimensions, and the descent must be very great, 
 for the stream dashes through the rocks with fearful vio- 
 lence, and sends up pyramids of spray. 
 
 The chief point of danger, however, is where the 
 branches, having passed the island, are again united. 
 Men may talk of the charge of hostile armies, and no 
 doubt a poet may spin very pretty, and even sublime 
 verses out of such matter. But the charge of hostile 
 torrents is altogether a more magnificent affair; and who 
 shall describe the " dreadful revelry " of their conflict? 
 At the Big Pitch, the two arms of the St. Lawrence rush 
 against each other with a thundering roar, and are 
 shivered into spray by the violence of the concussion. 
 The whole surface of the river boils like a caldron, and 
 the water on either side is driven back from the centre to 
 the margin in a multitude of eddies and whirlpools. It 
 is only by slow degrees that the commotion ceases, 
 and the ordinary aspect of the river is restored. 
 
 In passing the scene of this alarming struggle, the boat 
 for about a minute reeled and staggered very disagreea- 
 bly, and two or three waves burst over us. Before we 
 had time, however, to clear the water from our eyes, the 
 Big Pitch was past, and we were borne forward on water 
 comparatively smooth. 
 
 We slept at a poor village, the name of which I forget. 
 Our boatmen, who had all day been pulling at the oars, 
 like true Canadians, instead of going to bed, got up a 
 dance with the village girls, and the ball was only stopped 
 by the re-embarkation of the party on the following 
 morning. The whole crew were drunk, with the ex- 
 ception of the conductor, but the appearance of the first 
 rapid sobered them in an instant. 
 
 Our course now lay through Lake St. Francis. There
 
 880 ST. LAWRENCE AND MISSISSIPPI. 
 
 was not a breath of wind, and the assistance received 
 from the current was very trifling. The lake is nearly 
 thirty miles long, and about ten or twelve in breadth. 
 At its lower extremity is the village of St. Regis, where 
 the boundary line of the United States leaving the St. 
 Lawrence, the river becomes exclusively Canadian. 
 
 We breakfasted at Coteau du Lac, and shot through 
 another rapid with the speed of an arrow. In order to 
 facilitate the communication between the provinces, 
 canals have been made, by which these rapids may be 
 avoided. The shores of the St. Lawrence are chequered 
 with patches of cultivation, but not so much so as mate- 
 rially to affect the general character of the scenery. 
 Among rivers of first-rate magnitude, I imagine the palm 
 of beauty must be yielded to the St. Lawrence. In its 
 aspect there is no dulness, no monotony. It is continu- 
 ally changing from the rapid to the lake, from excessive 
 velocity of current to still and tranquil water, on which, 
 but for sail and oar, the motion of the boat would be im- 
 perceptible. 
 
 Perhaps, no two rivers afford a stronger contrast than 
 the Mississippi and the St. Lawrence. The scenery of 
 the former is flat and unchanging; of the latter, infinitely 
 diversified. The water of the Mississippi is ever dark 
 and turbid; the St. Lawrence is beautifully clear. The 
 Mississippi traverses a continent, and enlarges gradu- 
 ally from a mountain rivulet into a mighty river. The 
 St. Lawrence is an Adam at its birth. It knows no 
 childhood, and attains at once to maturity. The current 
 of the Mississippi is smooth and equable; that of the St. 
 Lawrence rapid and impetuous. The volume of the 
 Mississippi is continually influenced by the vicissitudes 
 of season; it annually overflows its banks, and spreads a 
 deluge over the surrounding region. The St. Lawrence 
 is the same at all seasons; rains neither augment its vo- 
 lume, nor do droughts perceptibly diminish it. The 
 channel of the St. Lawrence leads through a succession 
 of lakes. There are no lakes connected with the Missis- 
 sippi. The St. Lawrence, on approaching the termina- 
 tion of its course, gradually expands into a noble bay; 
 and amid a region bounded by forest and mountain, 
 mingles almost imperceptibly with the ocean. The
 
 MONTREAL. 381 
 
 Mississippi pours its flood into the Gulf of Mexico by a 
 number of branches flowing through a delta formed by 
 the diluvium of its own waters.* 
 
 Nor is their effect on the spectator less different. The 
 one is grand and beautiful; the other awful and sublime. 
 The St. Lawrence delights the imagination; the Missis- 
 sippi overwhelms it. 
 
 I shall not linger on the voyage. We passed the Ce- 
 dar rapids and the Cascades, both of which are consi- 
 dered more dangerous than the Long Sault. But their 
 character is the same, and I shall spare the reader the 
 trouble of perusing certain long descriptions which I find 
 in my journal. Suffice it to say, that at night-fall our 
 voyage terminated at La Chine, a village nine miles 
 from Montreal. 
 
 The inn was tolerable, but it must be confessed that 
 the Canadian hotels are inferior to those of the United 
 States, while the charges are considerably higher. There 
 is no arrangement, no zeal to oblige, and the amount of 
 civility at the disposal of a traveller is very limited. In 
 the United States, an Englishman becomes accustomed 
 to indifference, and has rarely to encounter insolence. 
 In a country like Canada, subject to the British crown, 
 he is apt to expect more, and the chances are that he 
 will find less. 
 
 On the day following, I drove to Montreal; and was cer- 
 tainly agreeably surprised by the appearance of the city. 
 It stands on an island, about thirty miles long, and at a 
 short distance from the mountain whose name it bears. The 
 houses are entirely constructed of stone; and the neat- 
 ness of the buildings, and the general air of solidity and 
 compactness, have a very pleasing effect to afi eye ac- 
 customed to the trashy clap-board edifices of an Ameri- 
 can town. It is the fashion in Montreal to cover the 
 roofs of the houses with tin, so that in looking down on 
 it from the neighbouring heights, the city glitters with 
 a mirror-like brightness. In the higher part of the town 
 are some handsome streets, and the public buildings are 
 in the best taste plain, substantial, and without preten- 
 
 * Those who wish to see this parallel followed out with greater mi- 
 nuteness, I beg to refer to Mr. Stuart's Travels in the United States, 
 and those of Mr. Hodgson.
 
 382 CONVENT. 
 
 sion of any sort. The suburbs are embellished by a 
 number of tasteful residences, which are often surround- 
 ed by pleasure-grounds of considerable beauty. The in- 
 habitants are hospitable; and the establishments of the 
 more wealthy combine elegance with comfort. 
 
 The population of Montreal is about 30,000. The 
 great majority of the mercantile class are English; but 
 the lower orders, both in language and appearance, de- 
 cidedly French. Their dress is at once primitive and 
 peculiar. Like the Spaniards, they wear a sash of co- 
 loured worsted round the waist, a jacket, generally of 
 blue or brown, and shoes fashioned after the Indian mo- 
 cassin. The natives of the Montreal and Quebec dis- 
 tricts are distinguished by the colour of their caps. 
 The former wear the bonnet bleu; the latter, the bonnet 
 rouge. 
 
 The prevailing religion is the Catholic; and the Cathe- 
 dral does honour to the taste and spirit of the inhabitants. 
 It is built of a bluish limestone, and of a fabric so sub- 
 stantial, that it bids fair to outlast every church now ex- 
 tant in the United States. The style of architecture is 
 Gothic; and the only defects which struck me, are a bar- 
 renness of ornament, attributable, I imagine, to a defi- 
 ciency of funds, and a glare of light, which injures the 
 effect of the interior. 
 
 There are several convents in Montreal, one of which 
 I visited, in company with an eminent merchant of the 
 city. The building is commodious and extensive, and 
 the establishment consists of a mere superieure, and 
 twenty-four nuns. Its funds, which are considerable, are 
 devoted to purposes of charity; and I saw a little troop of 
 orphans, Vhom they support and educate. There is, 
 likewise, an hospital for the insane and incurable, which 
 I declined visiting. I saw several of the sisters, pale, 
 unearthly looking beings, who, accustomed to the mi- 
 nistrations of the sick-bed, flit about with noiseless steps, 
 and speak in a low and subdued tone. Their garb is pe- 
 culiar. It consists of a gown of light drab, plain muslin 
 cap, black hood, a sort of tippet of white linen, and the 
 usual adjuncts of rosary and crucifix. 
 
 The interest excited by this pious and benevolent in- 
 stitution was certainly not diminished by the communi-
 
 QUEBEC. 383 
 
 cations of my companion. " It is impossible," he said, 
 " that I can look on this establishment, without feelings 
 of the deepest gratitude. Thirty-five years ago, I came 
 to this city a penniless and friendless boy; and I had not 
 one friend or connexion in the colony from whom I 
 might expect kindness. Shortly after my arrival, I fell 
 sick. I could not work, and was utterly destitute of the 
 means of subsistence. In this situation, these charitable 
 nuns received me into this house, nursed me with ten- 
 derness, through a long and grievous illness, and supplied 
 me with the means of support, until, by my own labour, I 
 was enabled to rid them of the burden. By God's pro- 
 vidence, I have prospered in the world. I am now rich, 
 but never do I pass the gates of this institution without 
 a silent blessing on its humble and pious inmates." 
 
 Lord and Lady Aylmer were in Montreal, and their 
 presence rendered it at once the scene of gaiety and hos- 
 pitality. I passed a week there, with great pleasure, 
 and then embarked in one of those magnificent steamers 
 which ply on the St. Lawrence for Quebec. The dis- 
 tance between the cities is a hundred and eighty miles, 
 which is generally accomplished in about twenty hours. 
 
 As we approached Quebec, the scenery became more 
 wild and mountainous. Cultivation rarely extends be- 
 yond a mile or two from the river, and agriculture ap*- 
 pears to be conducted by the Canadians of the Lower 
 Province on the worst principles. To me, they ap- 
 peared a light-hearted and amiable people, who brave 
 the chances of life, with apathy to its sufferings, and a 
 keen sensation of its enjoyments. No contrast in human 
 character can be greater than that exhibited by the in- 
 habitants of Lower Canada and the United States. The 
 one, averse from all innovation, content to live as his 
 fathers have done before him, sluggish, inert, and animated 
 by strong local attachment to the spot of his nativity. 
 The other, active and speculating, never satisfied with 
 his present condition, emigrating wherever interest may 
 direct, and influenced in every circumstance by the great 
 principle of turning the penny. The Canadian is un- 
 doubtedly the more interesting; but, on the standard of 
 utility, I fear Jean Baptiste must yield the pas to Jona- 
 than.
 
 384 THE LOWER TOWN. 
 
 Quebec bears on its front the impress of nobility. By 
 the most obtuse traveller, it cannot be mistaken for u 
 mere common-place and vulgar city. It towers with an 
 air of pride and of menace the menace not of a bully, but 
 of an armed Paladin prepared for battle. No city in the 
 world stands amid nobler scenery. The heights bristling 
 with works; the splendid and impregnable citadel frown- 
 ing on Cape Diamond; the river emerging in the distance 
 from the dark pine forest, with its broad expanse covered 
 with shipping; the Isle of Orleans reposing in tranquil 
 beauty amid its waters; and the colossal ranges of moun- 
 tains which close the prospect; constitute an assem- 
 blage of splendid features, which may be equalled, but 
 can scarcely be surpassed. 
 
 Till I landed from the steam-boat, Quebec was to me 
 a mere abstraction, which it pleased my imagination to 
 invest with attributes of grandeur. But the first aspect 
 of the lower town contributed to dissipate the charm. It 
 extends over a narrow ledge at the foot of the precipice. 
 The streets are dirty and narrow the trottoirs so much 
 so, that two people can scarcely pass without jostling. 
 It is in this quarter that merchants most do congregate; 
 and here are the exchange, the custom-house, the banks, 
 and all the filth and circumstance of inglorious com- 
 merce. 
 
 The pomp of war is displayed in a loftier region, which 
 is approached by a very steep street leading upward 
 through a natural cleft in the brow of the mountain. In 
 the higher town are the court and the camp, the Castle of 
 St. Louis on its lofty pedestal of rock, with a formidable 
 array of towering ramparts for their defence. In this 
 quarter no sign of traffic is discernible, and the sound of 
 military music, the number of soldiers in the streets, the 
 sentinels in their solitary walk along the ramparts, and the 
 vociferous revelry of young and idle officers, strike with 
 pleasing novelty on the senses of a traveller from the 
 United States. 
 
 The fortnight I passed at Quebec is associated with 
 pleasant memories. By the officers of the 32d regiment 
 i was admitted an honorary member qf their mess; and 
 I request these gentlemen to accept my thanks for the 
 many agreeable hours spent in their society. I enjoyed
 
 FALLS OF MONTMORENCI. 385 
 
 the pleasure, too, of encountering an old military friend, 
 with whom 1 had long served in the same corps. More 
 recently, we had travelled together on the continent of 
 Europe, and now, by one of those unanticipated chances 
 which occasionally brighten life, we were again thrown 
 together, with what feelings it is unnecessary to de- 
 scribe. 
 
 At Montreal, Lord Aylmer had obligingly furnished me 
 with a letter of introduction to Colonel Cockburn, the 
 commandant of artillery; and the advantages I derived 
 from it were very great. Colonel Cockburn is an ac- 
 complished artist, with a delicate perception, and fine feel- 
 ing of the beauties of nature; and it was under his gui- 
 dance, and generally in his company, that I visited the 
 surrounding scenery. 
 
 My first excursion was to the falls of Montmorenci, 
 about eight miles from the city. On emerging from the 
 city gate, we crossed the St. Charles, and then pursued 
 our course through a pleasant and well-cultivated coun- 
 try, interspersed with villages. It was a holyday of some 
 sort, and the inhabitants were all abroad clad in their best, 
 and gay as the more fortunate inhabitants of less wintry 
 regions. The heights of Montmorenci are interesting as 
 having been the scene of Wolfe's first attack on Mont- 
 calm. It was unsuccessful. The French occupied an 
 intrenched position on the summit, from which it was 
 found impossible to dislodge them. About six hundred of 
 Wolfe's army fell in the attempt. 
 
 The falls are very fine, but have, unfortunately, been 
 disfigured by the erection of a mill on the very summit 
 of the precipice ; but the view from a platform adjoining 
 this building is magnificent. The entire height of the 
 fall is two hundred and forty feet, and though the body 
 of water is in summer, at least of no great magnitude, it 
 thunders down the steep with astonishing majesty, and 
 makes glorious turmoil in a huge basin surrounded on 
 three sides by precipitous cliffs. About a mile above is a 
 geological curiosity called " the natural steps," which ap- 
 pear to have been worn in the rock- by the attrition of 
 the stream. These are so regular as to make it dif- 
 ficult to believe that art has had no share in their for- 
 mation. 
 
 49
 
 380 MONUMENT TO WOLFE AND MONTCALM. 
 
 Close to the city are the Plains of Abraham. Traces 
 of field works are yet visible, and an oval block of granite 
 marks the spot on which Wolfe expired About a mile 
 higher is Wolfe's Cove, where he landed during the night, 
 and the fearful cliff up which he led his followers to vic- 
 tory. A redoubt on the summit was carried by escalade, 
 and by day-dawn the army was formed in order of bat- 
 tle on the heights. Montcalm instantly quitted his in- 
 trenchments at Beaufort to meet him. By ten o'clock 
 the armies were engaged, and in two hours the power of 
 France on the American continent was annihilated. 
 
 Wolfe died young, and his name bears something of a 
 melancholy charm to the ear of every Englishman. Yet 
 there appear no grounds for attributing^ to him the qua- 
 lities of a great general. His first attempt was a failure, 
 and the second was successful only from the blunder of 
 his opponent. In accepting battle, Montcalm gave up 
 all his advantages. Had he retired into the city, Quebec 
 never could have been taken. Winter was rapidly ap- 
 proaching, (the hattle took place on the 12th of Sep- 
 tember,) and siege was impossible. 
 
 A monument has been erected to the memory of these 
 brave men. It is an obelisk copied from some of those 
 in Rome, and bears two Latin inscriptions, which to nine- 
 ty-nine out of every hundred who look on it are unintelli- 
 gible. There is nonsense and pedantry in this. The in- 
 scriptions should have been in French and English. 
 
 The citadel has been strengthened and rebuilt at an 
 enormous expense. It perfectly commands both the city 
 and the river, and is so strong, that in all human proba- 
 bility it will ever remain a virgin fortress. At all events, 
 those who have skill, courage, and energy to wrest it from 
 the grasp of British soldiers, will deserve to keep it. 
 Assuredly their national annals will record no more bril- 
 liant achievement. 
 
 The chateau of St. Louis is now converted into the re- 
 sidence of the Governor. It stands on the verge of a 
 precipitous rock, down which it seems in danger of tum- 
 bling. In point of architecture it has nothing to boast. 
 There is a total want of massiveness and grandeur. 
 
 The other public buildings are principally religious. 
 The convents, which are numerous, I did not visit. The
 
 LORETTO. 387 
 
 cathedral is a massive stone edifice, without ornament of 
 any sort. The walls in the interior display a good many 
 pictures, which I had not patience to examine. The grand 
 altar is as magnificent as waxen virgins and gilt angels 
 can make it. 
 
 New York and the Canadas are the chosen regions of 
 waterfalls. Their opulence in this noble feature is un- 
 rivalled. I had already seen many, but there were still 
 many to be seen. I confess my appetite for cataracts 
 had become rather squeamish, yet I walked nine miles 
 under a burning sun to see that of the Chaudiere. It is 
 still imbosomed in the forest, whose echoes for many 
 thousand years it has awakened. The wild commotion 
 of the river contrasts finely with the death-like quietude 
 of all other objects. It was June, yet there were no birds 
 pouring melody through these dismal wood-lands. How 
 different are the Canadian forests from the woods of Old 
 England ! Living nature was silent ; inanimate spoke only 
 in that voice 
 
 "which seemed to him 
 
 Who dwelt in Patmos, for his Saviour's sake, 
 The crowd of many waters." 
 
 The Chaudiere is about the size of the Tweed. The 
 perpendicular height of the fall is upwards of a hundred 
 feet. The finest view is from a ledge of rock projecting 
 into the river about fifty yards below. The water in the 
 basin, or, as it is called, the Pot, boils as water never did 
 in pot before. It then dashes down a succession of ra- 
 pids, and continues to fume, and toss, and tumble, until 
 finally swallowed up by the St. Lawrence. The sight is 
 fine and impressive. No traveller should leave Quebec 
 without visiting the Chaudiere. 
 
 The village of Loretto is a melancholy sight. It con- 
 tains the last and only remains of the once powerful tribe 
 of Huron Indians. Brandy and gunpowder have done 
 their work, and about two hundred of this once noble 
 people, are all that survive. They have adopted the re- 
 ligion, and speak the language, of the Canadians. There 
 is a church in the village, and a priest who mingles with 
 his flock, and is beloved by them. Christianity is the only 
 benefit for which the red man is indebted to the white.
 
 388 FUTURE DESTINY OF THE CANADAS. 
 
 The latter cheats, robs, corrupts, and ruins him in this 
 world, and then makes a merit of saving him in the next. 
 The benefit is pure, but these poor Indians may reason- 
 ably distrust the gift, when there is blood on the hand by 
 which it is bestowed. 
 
 The legislative bodies were not sitting, and I know no- 
 thing of Canadian politics. There is a Mr. Papineau, 
 however, who plays with great spirit the part of a colo- 
 nial O'Connel. The field is not large, but he makes the 
 most of it, and enjoys the dignity of being a thorn in the 
 side of each successive governor. Mr. Papineau and his 
 party are continually grumbling at being subject to Bri- 
 tish dominion; but what would they have? They pay 
 no taxes. John Bull spends his money pretty freely 
 among them, as they may see by the works on Cape Dia- 
 mond, and the Rideau Canal. The latter must be of im- 
 mediate and great benefit to both provinces; but had the 
 Canadians been left to their own resources, it could never 
 have existed. What would they have? The Lower 
 Province, at least, will not join the United States; and it 
 is too poor, and to helpless, to set up for itself. Withdraw 
 British capital from the colony, and what would remain? 
 Rags, poverty, and empty harbours. 
 
 With regard .to the Upper Province, the time is fast ap- 
 proaching when it will join the United States. Every 
 thing tends towards this consummation. The canals 
 which connect the vast chain of lakes with the Ohio and 
 the Hudson, must accelerate its advent. The Canadian 
 farmer already has easier access to the markets of New 
 York and New Orleans, than he has to that of Quebec. 
 The mass of the people are republicans in politics, and 
 anarchists in morals. Let them go. The loss to Eng- 
 land will be trifling. The eagle does not drcop his wing 
 for the loss of a feather/ 
 
 It is well, however, that British statesmen should stea- 
 dily contemplate this event, and direct their policy ac- 
 cordingly. Let them not hope to conciliate this people 
 by concession. "The mighty stream of tendency" can- 
 not be arrested in its progress. But it will become a 
 matter of grave consideration whether a province so cir- 
 cumstanced should be enriched by any farther expendi- 
 ture of British revenue whether England is still to la- 
 vish millions in building fortresses and constructing canals;
 
 BLUNDERS OF THE GOVERNMENT. 399 
 
 and whether it be not, on the whole, more consonant to 
 political wisdom, to leave the improvement of this vast 
 region to individual enterprise, and the results of an un- 
 shackled industry. 
 
 The Canadians may rely on it, that whenever a con- 
 siderable majority of the people become hostile to the 
 continuance of British connexion, they will find little dif- 
 ficulty in achieving their independence. England could 
 hold them in subjection by the bayonet; but she will not 
 use it. She will bid them farewell; give them her bless- 
 ing, and leave them to follow their own course. Whe- 
 ther they will be happier or more prosperous, is a question 
 which another century must, probably, determine. 
 
 When Lower Canada first came into the possession of 
 Great Britain, the latter committed a great error in not 
 insisting that her language should be adopted in all pub- 
 lic instruments. The consequence is, that eighty years 
 have passed, and the people are still French. The tie of 
 community of literature does not exist, and the only chan- 
 nel by which moral influence can be asserted or main- 
 tained, has been wantonly closed. The people read 
 when they read any thing French books; French au- 
 thorities are quoted in the law courts; the French lan- 
 guage is spoken in the streets; French habits, French 
 feelings, French prejudices, abound every where. The 
 lapse of three generations has witnessed no advancement, 
 moral or intellectual, in the Canadians of the Lower Pro- 
 vince. They are now precisely what they were at the 
 period of the conquest. 
 
 Another decided blunder was the separation of Cana- 
 da into two provinces. This has prevented any general 
 amalgamation of the population. One province is deci- 
 dedly French; the other no less exclusively English, or 
 American. The latter enjoys a milder climate, and 
 more fertile soil, and increases in wealth and population 
 far more rapidly than its rival. It is to the Upper Pro- 
 vince that the whole tide of emigration is directed. It 
 is with produce of the Upper Province that the ships 
 navigating the St. Lawrence are freighted; Lower Ca- 
 nada exports little but lumber. 
 
 The French Canadians, therefore, oppose every im- 
 provement by which the rival province may be bene- 
 fited, and, with such feelings, collision on a thousand
 
 390 DIFFICULTY OF GOVERNING THEM. 
 
 points is unavoidable. Internal improvement is impeded, 
 for there could be no agreement as to the proportion of 
 contribution to be furnished by each province. The 
 breach, instead of healing, is annually widened, and Up- 
 per Canada is thrown into an intercourse with the Uni- 
 ted States, the result of which I have already ventured 
 to predict. 
 
 The government of Canada may in one sense be called 
 a bed of roses, for it is full of thorns. Every governor 
 must find it so. He has to deal with men of mean 
 minds and selfish passions; to maintain the necessary 
 privileges of the Crown; to prevent the rational freedom 
 of a limited monarchy from degenerating into the un- 
 bridled license of democracy. He is beset by clamour, 
 and assailed by faction, and must either become the 
 leader of one party, or oflend both. His difficulties and 
 embarrassments increase. He appeals for support to his 
 government, and receives a letter of thanks and his re- 
 call. 
 
 Such has been the story of many governors of these 
 troublesome provinces, and will probably be that of many 
 more. But if any man be calculated to conciliate all the 
 passions and prejudices of the Canadians, it is Lord 
 Aylmer. His amiable character, his kind yet dignified 
 manners, his practical good sense, his experience of bu- 
 siness, and extensive knowledge of the world, can scarce- 
 ly fail to exert a salutary influence in soothing the aspe- 
 rities of party, and exposing the motives of turbulence, 
 by depriving it of excuse. At the period of my visit 
 to Canada, I rejoice to say it was so. In every society, 
 I heard the new governor spoken of with respect, and 
 even the " sweet voices " of the populace were in his 
 favour. 
 
 The travels of the Schoolmaster have not yet led him 
 to these wintry regions. Few of the lower order of 
 Canadians can read, and the education even of the more 
 wealthy is very defective. The ladies resemble those 
 of the United States, and are subject to the same pre- 
 maturity of decay. But they are pleasing and amiable, 
 though given to commit sad slaughter among sensitive 
 and romantic subalterns. The older stagers are general- 
 ly charm-proof, and the marriage of a major is an event 
 as remarkable in the colony as the appearance of a comet.
 
 LONGUEUIL. 391 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 JOURNEY TO NEW YORK. 
 
 I LEFT Quebec with regret, for it was necessary to 
 bid farewell to an agreeable circle, and an old friend. 
 The voyage to Montreal presented nothing remarkable, 
 and, after passing a few days in that city, I prepared to 
 return to the United States. 
 
 After crossing the St. Lawrence to Longueuil, it was 
 discovered that a portmanteau had been left at Montreal. 
 My servant accordingly returned in the steam-boat, 
 while I was forced to wait several hours for his reap- 
 pearance in a very miserable tavern. After all, this 
 compulsory arrangement was not unfortunate. The 
 heat was intense, and travelling, if not impossible, would 
 have been very disagreeable. In order to pass the time. 
 I bathed in the river, read all the old newspapers the 
 house could afford, and, finally discovering that the 
 luxury of sofas was unknown at Longueuil went to 
 bed. ' 
 
 Why this dirty and paltry village should be more tor- 
 mented by flies than other places, I know not. Every 
 room in the tavern absolutely swarmed with them. My- 
 riads of these detestable insects, duly officered by blue- 
 bottles, kept hovering around, and perched in whole bat- 
 talions, at every favourable opportunity, on the face and 
 hands of the victim. Under these circumstances, a siesta 
 was impossible, and, on descending to dinner, I could, at 
 first, discern nothing but four dishes of flies. The sight 
 was not calculated to increase appetite, and, during the 
 meal, a woman, with a large fan, was obliged to defend 
 the table from their approach. It was not till evening 
 that my servant returned with the portmanteau, and 
 having procured a carriage, I lost nol a moment in es- 
 caping from a village which appeared to suffer under a 
 plague, unparalleled since the days of Pharaoh. 
 
 The road to Chambly was execrable, and the journey 
 both tedious and disagreeable. I passed the night there,.
 
 392 PLATTSBURG. 
 
 and on the following morning proceeded to St. John's. 
 The road follows the course of the Sorell, which, at St. 
 John's, is somewhat more than a mile in breadth. A 
 steam-boat, fortunately, was about to sail for Whitehall, 
 at the southern extremity of Lake Champlain, and in ten 
 minutes I was on board. From St. John's, the river 
 gradually widens, till it reaches Isle Aux Noix, a post of 
 some strength, which is occupied by a British garrison. 
 Here the traveller bids farewell to Canada, and enters 
 the territory of the United States. 
 
 Lake Champlain is a beautiful sheet of water, about 
 140 miles long, with a mean breadth of about five or six. 
 The surrounding country is undulating, and, in most 
 places, yet unredeemed from a state of nature. It was 
 the theatre of many interesting events in the early histo- 
 ry of the colonies. Traces of the forts at Ticonderago 
 and Crown Point are still visible. 
 
 We passed Plattsburg, the scene of the unfortunate na- 
 val action in 1814. 1 was then serving in the colonies, 
 and had a good deal of correspondence with Commodore 
 Sir James Yeo, relative to the charges he afterwards ex- 
 hibited against Sir George Prevost.* The historian who 
 would illustrate by facts the almost incredible amount of 
 folly, ignorance and imbecility, by which the arms of 
 England may be tarnished, and her resources wasted with 
 impunity, should bestow a careful examination on the de- 
 tails of the Plattsburg expedition. He will then precisely 
 understand how war can be turned into child's play, and 
 its operations regulated, as in the Royal game of Goose, by 
 the twirl of a teetotum. 
 
 * When the order for retreat was given, Sir Manly Power, who com- 
 manded a brigade, rode up to Sir George Prevost, and thus addressed 
 him: "What is it I hear, Sir George? Can it be possible that you 
 have issued an order to retreat before this miserable body of undisci- 
 plined militia? With one battalion I pledge myself to drive them from 
 the fort in ten minutes. For God's sake, spare the army this disgrace. 
 For your own sake for the sake of us all I implore you not to tarnish 
 the honour of the British arms, by persisting in this order." Sir George 
 simply answered, " I have issued the order, and expect it to be obeyed. " 
 
 In addition, it is only necessary to add, that the fort was of mud, that 
 its garrison was only 3000 militia, while the retreating army consisted 
 of 10,000 of the finest troops in the world. To heighten the disgrace, 
 there was considerable sacrifice of stores and ammunition ! It is deeply 
 to be lamented, that the death of Sir George Prevost, shortly after his 
 recall, prevented the investigation of his conduct before a court martial 

 
 CALDWELL. 393 
 
 On the following morning I quitted the steam-boat, 
 and, procuring a cart for the conveyance of my goods and 
 chattels, walked across the mountains to Lake George. 
 The scenery of this lake is celebrated, and though I vi- 
 sited it with high expectations, they were not disap- 
 pointed. Lake George is thirty-six miles long, but rarely 
 more than five broad. In form, it resembles Winder- 
 mere, but its features are bolder and more decided. The 
 country, in general, is yet unreclaimed, and the sides of 
 the mountains are clothed with wood 1o the summit. 
 Imbosomed in the lake, are many beautiful islands, only 
 one of which appeared to be inhabited. Here and there 
 the shore was diversified by cultivation, and occasionally 
 near some quiet and retired haven, stood a log cottage, 
 with which the fancy delighted to connect a thousand 
 pleasing associations. 
 
 The steam-boat which conveyed us through this beau- 
 tiful region was somewhat old and rickety, and her pro- 
 gress slow. For the first time in my life I considered this 
 an advantage. It was pleasant to linger in such a scene, 
 to resign the spirit to its tranquil influence, to people the 
 memory with fresh images of beauty, and, at leisure, to 
 behold those objects on which the eye was destined to 
 gaze but once. 
 
 The voyage terminated at Caldwell, a small village at 
 the southern extremity of the lake. The inn was com- 
 fortable, and in the evening, having nothing better to do, 
 I took a ramble in the neighbourhood. About half a 
 mile distant are the remains of a British fort, called Fort 
 William Henry. It was erected in 1755, by Sir William 
 Johnson, and attacked in the same year by a French 
 force under Baron Dieskau. The assailants were re- 
 pulsed with great slaughter, and the loss of their general. 
 In the following year, however, it was invested by Mont- 
 calm, at the head of 10,000 men. Colonel Munro, the 
 governor, made a gallant defence, but was, at length, 
 forced to capitulate. The whole garrison were after- 
 wards treacherously attacked and massacred by the In- 
 dians attached to Montcalm's army. The fort was de- 
 stroyed, and has never since been rebuilt. 
 
 On the following morning, I left Caldwell in the stage 
 for Saratoga Springs, the Cheltenham of the United 
 
 50
 
 394 THE FALLS OF THE HUDSON. 
 
 States. The road lay through a country of diversified 
 features, and in a state of tolerable cultivation. It was 
 only the end of June, yet the corn was yellow in the 
 ear, and in many places the harvest had already com- 
 menced. The crops were luxuriant, and the wheat ears 
 struck me as larger than any I had ever seen in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 The Falls of the Hudson, which I stopped to examine, 
 had not much to excite the admiration of a traveller 
 fresh from Niagara and Lower Canada, yet they are fine 
 in themselves; and if the imagination could abstract them 
 from the numerous saw and corn mills they are employed 
 to set in motion, and represent them as they were in the 
 days when the bear and panther lorded it in the surround- 
 ing forest, and the wild-deer came to slake his thirst in 
 their basin, doubtless the impression would be very 
 striking. A fine waterfall is confessedly a noble feature 
 in a landscape; but when the surrounding objects are 
 found to be utterly inconsistent with grandeur and har- 
 mony of effect, the eye turns from the scene with disap- 
 pointment, and a sentiment even allied to disgust. We 
 feel that nature has been defaced, and that utility has 
 been obtained at the expense of a thousand picturesque 
 beauties and romantic associations. 
 
 There are people, no doubt, who are quite satisfied 
 with seeing a certain mass of water precipitated from a 
 given height, no matter by what process or in what si- 
 tuation. The cataract makes a grand splash, and they 
 are satisfied. Their eye is offended by no inconsistencies, 
 their ear by no discords. For them there are no sublimi- 
 ties in nature, nor vulgarities in art. For minute and de- 
 licate beauty they have no eye, and estimate rock or 
 mountain as they measure broadcloth, by the yard. 
 
 A blessing be on all such. They are honest men, no 
 doubt, and useful. Their taste in dry goods may be un- 
 exceptionable, and they probably feel the whole beauty 
 of a landscape on a China basin. They will travel far 
 to see a waterfall, or a lion, and if the former be made 
 to turn a mill, or the latter a spit, their enjoyment will 
 sustain prodigious augmentation. 
 
 Saratoga has all the appearance of a watering-place. 
 There is a certain smartness about it; an air of preten-
 
 CLIMATE OF THE UNITED STATES. 395 
 
 sion, like that assumed by a beau, who devours his shil- 
 lings' worth of boiled beef, in the Coal-Hole, or the Che- 
 shire-Cheese. It may be called a village of hotels, for 
 they abound in every street, and give a character to the 
 place. These establishments are on a large scale; and 
 that in which I took up my abode can accommodate two 
 hundred visiters. 
 
 To this village, company flock in summer from all 
 parts of the Union ; and the Congress, annually assem- 
 bled there, affords a fair representation of all the beauty 
 and fashion of the Union. The truth is, that such is the 
 unhealthiness of the climate in all the Atlantic cities, 
 from New York to New Orleans, that their inhabitants 
 are forced to migrate for several months, in order to lay 
 in a stock of health for the consumption of spring and 
 winter. All direct their course northward. Some visit 
 the sea; others make a trip to Niagara, and Canada; but 
 by far the greater number are to be found congregated 
 at Saratoga. 
 
 When on the subject of climate, I may just mention, 
 that there is no topic on which Americans are more jea- 
 lously sensitive. It delights them to believe that theirs 
 is, in all respects, a favoured land; that between the St. 
 Lawrence and Mississippi the sky is brighter, the breezes 
 more salubrious, and the soil more fertile, than in any 
 other region of the earth. There is no harm in all this; 
 nay, it is laudable, if they would only not insist that all 
 strangers should view the matter in the same light, and 
 express admiration as rapturous as their own. 
 
 Judging from my own experience, I should certainly 
 pronounce the climate of the northern and central States 
 to be only one degree better than that of Nova Scotia, 
 which struck me when there in 1814 as being the 
 very worst in the world. On making the American 
 coast, we had four days of denser fog than I ever saw in 
 London. After my arrival at New York, in November, 
 the weather, for about a week, was very fine. It then 
 became cloudy and tempestuous, and during the whole 
 period of my residence at Boston, I scarcely saw the sun. 
 At Philadelphia, there came on a deluge of snow, by 
 which the ground was covered from January till March. 
 At Baltimore, there was no improvement. Snow lay 
 deep on the ground during the whole period of my resi-
 
 396 CLIMATE OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 dence at Washington, and the roads were only passable 
 with difficulty. On crossing the Alleghany Mountains, 
 however, the weather became delightful, and continued 
 so during the voyage to New Orleans. While I remained 
 in that city, three days out of every four were oppres- 
 sively close and sultry, and the atmosphere was damp 
 and unpleasant to breathe. During my journey from 
 Mobile to Charleston, though generally hotter than desi- 
 rable, the weather was in the main bright and beautiful; 
 but the very day of my arrival at the latter place, the 
 thermometer fell twenty degrees; and in the 33d degree 
 of latitude, in the month of May, the inmates of the ho- 
 tel were crowding round a blazing fire. On my return 
 to New York, I found the population still muffled in 
 cloaks and great coats, and the weather bitterly cold. 
 Not a vestige of spring was discernible, at a season when, 
 in England, the whole country is covered with verdure. 
 During the last week of May, however, the heat became 
 very great. At Quebec, it was almost intolerable, the 
 thermometer ranging daily between 84 and 92. At 
 New York, in July, the weather was all a salamander 
 could desire; and I embarked for England, under a sun 
 more burning than it is at all probable I shall ever suffer 
 from again. 
 
 In the northern and central States for of the climate 
 of the southern States it is unnecessary to speak the 
 annual range of the thermometer exceeds a hundred 
 degrees. The heat in summer is that of Jamaica; the 
 cold in winter is that of Russia. Such enormous vicissi- 
 tudes must necessarily impair the vigour of the human 
 frame ; and when we take into calculation the vast por- 
 tion of the United States in which the atmosphere is con- 
 taminated by marsh exhalations, it will not be difficult, 
 with the auxiliary influences of dram-drinking and to- 
 bacco-chewing, to account for the squalid and sickly as- 
 pect of the population. Among the peasantry, I never 
 saw one florid and robust man, nor any one distinguished 
 by that fulness and rotundity of muscle, which every 
 where meets the eye in England. 
 
 In many parts of the Stale of New York, the appear- 
 ance of the inhabitants was such as so excite compas- 
 sion. In the Maremma of Tuscany, and the Campagna
 
 I 
 
 CLIMATE Of THE UNITED STATES. 397 
 
 of Rome, I had seen beings similar, but scarcely more 
 wretched. In the " fall," as they call it, intermittent fe- 
 vers come as regularly as the fruit season. During my 
 journey, I made inquiries at many cottages, and found 
 none of them had escaped the scourge. But inquiries 
 were useless. The answer was generally too legible in 
 the countenance of the withered mother, and in those of 
 her emaciated offipring. 
 
 It seems ridiculous to compare such a climate with 
 that of England, and yet there is nothing to which Ame- 
 ricans are more addicted. It is a subject regularly ta- 
 bled in every society. " How delightful our climate 
 must appear to you," observed a lady, " after the rain 
 and fogs of your own country !" " Whether, on the 
 whole, do you prefer our climate or that of Italy?" in- 
 quired a gentleman of New York, in a tone of the most 
 profound gravity. My answer, I fear, gave offence, for 
 it became the signal for a general meteorological attack. 
 " I was three months in England," observed one, " and it 
 rained every hour of the time." 
 
 " Though attached to the soil of my country, I had 
 really no inclination to vindicate its atmosphere. I, 
 therefore, simply replied, that the gentleman had been un- 
 fortunate in the period of his visit. But I was not suf- 
 fered to escape thus. Another traveller declared he had 
 been nine months there, without better luck; and as the 
 nine months, added to the three, precisely made up the 
 whole year, of course, I had nothing farther to say. 
 
 But this tone of triumph is not always tenable. During 
 the days, weeks, and months, when the weather is mani- 
 festly indefensible, the lo Poeans give place to apologies. 
 A traveller is entreated, nay, sometimes even implored, 
 not to judge of the climate by the specimen he has seen 
 of it. Before his arrival, the sky was cloudless, and the 
 atmosphere serene. He has just come in the nick of bad 
 weather. Never in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, 
 was the snow so deep or so permanent. Never was spring 
 so tardy in its approach, and never were vicissitudes of 
 temperature so sudden and frequent. In short, he is 
 desired to believe that the ordinary course of nature is 
 suspended on his approach; that his presence in an 
 American city deranges the whole action of the elements.
 
 398 NATURE OF THE SPRINGS. 
 
 All this is simply a bore, and the annoyance merits re- 
 cord, only because it contributes to illustrate the Ameri- 
 can character, in one of its most remarkable features 
 a restless and insatiable appetite for praise, which de- 
 fies all restraint of reason or common sense. It is far 
 from enough that a traveller should express himself de- 
 lighted with the country and its inhabitants that he 
 should laud the beauty and fertility of the former, and 
 all that is wise, dignified, and amiable in the latter : he is 
 expected to extend his admiration even into the upper 
 air; to feel hurricanes, and speak of zephyrs, to gaze on 
 clouds, and behold the pure azure, and, while parching 
 under the influence of a burning sun, to lower the ther- 
 mometer of his words, and dilate on the genial and de- 
 lightful warmth of the American summer ! 
 
 At Saratoga, the whole company, as usual, dine in an 
 enormous saloon, after which the gentlemen lounge 
 about the balconies, smoking cigars, while the ladies 
 within read, net purses, or endeavour to extract music 
 from a jingling piano. At one or other of the hotels there 
 is generally a ball, and gentlemen who seem to have stu- 
 died dancing at some Shaker seminary, caper gallantly 
 through the mazes of the waltz or the quadrille. 
 
 In the morning, all are abroad to drink the waters. 
 The springs are numerous, and vary both in the efficacy 
 and nature of their effects. I made the tour of the most 
 celebrated, and drank a tumbler of each. None of them 
 are disagreeable to the taste, and all are slightly effer- 
 vescent. The Congress spring is most in repute, and is 
 supplied from a very neat fountain by boys, who dip the 
 drinking-glasses into the well. This water is bottled, 
 and sold all over the Union. Both in taste and appear- 
 ance it resembles Seltzer. 
 
 Among invalids, the prevailing complaint was evi- 
 dently dyspepsia, of which one hears a great deal more 
 than is quite agreeable in the United States. Even la- 
 dies inflict their sufferings without compunction on the 
 auditor. One I confess she was married, and not 
 young assured me she had derived great benefit from 
 employing an apothecary to manipulate her stomach 
 every morning! At the end of a fortnight, she was 
 quite cured; and the practice of the apothecary became
 
 ALBANY. 
 
 so extensive, that he was obliged to employ assistant 
 manipulators. 
 
 After breakfast, the favourite place of resort was a 
 lake about three miles distant, where the company drove 
 in carriages to fish. There was a platform erected for 
 the accommodation of the fishers, from which about fif- 
 ty rods were simultaneously protruded. The scene was 
 ludicrous enough. The rapture of a young lady or an 
 elderly gentleman on securing a fish, apparently of the 
 minnow species, would have made admirable matter for 
 Matthews. There were two or three men whose sole 
 occupation it was to bait hooks. During my stay, none 
 of the party had occasion for a landing net. 
 
 A few days of Saratoga were agreeable enough, but 
 the scene was too monotonous to maintain its attraction 
 long. I became tired of it, and moved on to Ballston 
 Spa, about seven miles distant. The hotel at Ballston is 
 excellent, but the waters are considered inferior to those 
 of Saratoga, and the place has been of late years com- 
 paratively deserted. Near the hotel is the house inha- 
 bited by Moreau during his residence in the United 
 States. He quitted it to join the allied army, and his 
 fate is matter of history. With every allowance for his 
 situation, one cannot but feel that his fame would have 
 rested on a firmer foundation, had he declined to bear 
 arms against his country. 
 
 If Saratoga was dull, Ballston was stupid. There was 
 nothing to be seen, and nothing to be done, except loiter- 
 ing in the neighbouring woods, which, being intersected 
 by a river called the Kayaderoseras, presented some pret- 
 ty scenery. The party in the hotel was not numerous, 
 and two days of Ballston were enough. On the third 
 morning I departed for Albany. 
 
 Albany presents, I believe, the only instance of feudal 
 tenure in the United States. At the first settlement of 
 New York by the Dutch, a gentleman, named Van Ran- 
 sellaer, received from the High and Mighty Lords a grant 
 of the land on which Albany now stands, with the adja- 
 cent territory to the distance of twelve Dutch miles on 
 every side. By far the greater portion of this princely 
 domain has been disposed of on perpetual leases, with due 
 reservation of all manorial privileges of tolls, quitrents,
 
 400 MR - WEIR'S PICTURES. 
 
 right of minerals, proprietorship of mills, &c.&c. The pre- 
 sent possessor still retains the title of Patroon, and is one 
 of the richest citizens of the Union. His family are 
 treated with a sort of prescriptive respect, which it will 
 probably require another half century to eradicate. They 
 are likewise the objects of some jealousy. From every 
 civic office in Albany they are rigidly excluded. 
 
 For the last time, I embarked on the beautiful Hud- 
 son. I had many friends in New York, and my pleasure 
 in returning to it was tinged with melancholy at the 
 thought that I was so soon to part with them for ever. 
 During my absence, a change had come over the appear- 
 ance of the city. I now saw it under the influence of a 
 burning sun. The gay and the wealthy had deserted 
 it; the busy only remained. By day the temperature 
 was oppressive, and there was no moving out before eve- 
 ning. The theatres were open, but who could enter 
 them with the thermometer at ninety 1 There was a 
 mimic Vauxhall, in the cool recesses of which one might 
 eat ice in comfort, and an excellent French Cafe, which 
 afforded all manner of refreshment to an overheated pe- 
 destrian. In spite of the season, many of my friends were 
 in town, or at their villas in the neighbourhood. Hospi- 
 table doors were still open, as I had always found them. 
 There was little gaiety, but abundance of society. The 
 former I did not want, the latter I enjoyed. 
 
 It was at this period that 1 became acquainted with a 
 young artist, who promises to occupy a high rank in his 
 profession. His name is Weir. Like Harding, he is full 
 of talent and enthusiasm, and if I do not mistake, his name 
 is yet destined to become familiar to English ears. Mr. 
 Weir has enjoyed the advantage of passing several years 
 in Italy, and has returned to his native city with a taste 
 formed on the great masterpieces of ancient art, and a 
 power of execution unusual in any country, to claim that 
 patronage which genius too often demands in vain. 
 
 I was much gratified by many of his pictures. He dis- 
 plays a fine sense of beauty in them all; but I was parti- 
 cularly struck with one which represents a dying Greek. 
 He has been wounded in the battle, and his limbs have 
 with difficulty borne him to the presence of his mistress. 
 His life-blood is fast ebbing, and his face is deadly pale
 
 AMERICAN NEWSPAPERS. 401 
 
 His head reclines on her arm, but the approach of death 
 is indicated in the general relaxation of muscle, and we 
 know not whether he be yet conscious of its pressure. 
 The countenance which gazes downward with irrepres- 
 sible agony on his, is animated by no gleam of hope. 
 There is no convulsion of the features, because intense 
 grief is uniformly calm. It is minor emotion, alone, 
 which finds relief in tears. 
 
 The composition is harmonious. A tower surmounted 
 by a flag, a few palm trees, the battlements of a city in 
 the second distance, and the setting sun, which sheds a 
 melancholy radiance on the scene, complete this simple, 
 but impressive picture. The sketches of Mr. Weir, are, 
 perhaps, even finer than the more elaborate productions 
 of his pencil, a circumstance which I am apt to consider 
 as a test of power. I have the good fortune to possess 
 one, which I value very highly, and which has been ad- 
 mired by many first-rate judges of art. 
 
 Of the public press I have not yet spoken, and I have 
 something to say on it, though not a great deal. Every 
 Englishman must be struck with the great inferiority of 
 American newspapers to those of his own country. In 
 order to form a fair estimate of their merit, I read news- 
 papers from all parts of the Union, and found them ut- 
 terly contemptible in point of talent, and dealing in 
 abuse so virulent, as to excite a feeling of disgust, not 
 only with the writers, but with the public which afforded 
 them support. Tried by this standard and I know not 
 how it can be objected to the moral feeling of this peo- 
 ple must be estimated lower than in any deductions from 
 other circumstances 1 have ventured to rate it. Public 
 men would appear to be proof against all charges which 
 are not naturally connected with the penitentiary or the 
 gibbet. The war of politics seems not the contest of 
 opinion supported by appeal to enlightened argument, 
 and acknowledged principles, but the squabble of greedy 
 and abusive partisans, appealing to the vilest passions of 
 the populace, and utterly unscrupulous as to their instru- 
 ments of attack. 
 
 I assert this deliberately, and with a full recollection 
 of the unwarrantable lengths to which political hostility 
 
 51
 
 402 VIOLENCE OF THE PRESS. 
 
 in England is too often carried. Our newspaper and 
 periodical press is bad enough. Its sins against propriety 
 cannot be justified, and ought not to be defended. But 
 its violence is meekness, its liberty restraint, and even its 
 atrocities are virtues, when compared with that system 
 of brutal and ferocious outrage which distinguishes the 
 press in America. In England, even an insinuation 
 against personal honour is intolerable. A hint a breath 
 the contemplation even of a possibility of tarnish such 
 things are sufficient to poison the tranquillity, and, unless 
 met by prompt vindication, to ruin the character of a 
 public man; but in America, it is thought necessary to 
 have recourse to other weapons. The strongest epithets 
 of a ruffian vocabulary are put in requisition. No vil- 
 lany is too gross or improbable to be attributed to a 
 statesman in this intelligent community. An editor knows 
 the swallow of his readers, and, of course, deals out no- 
 thing which he considers likely to stick in their gullet. 
 He Icnows the fineness of their moral feelings, and his 
 own interest leads him to keep within the limits of de- 
 mocratic propriety. 
 
 The opponents of a candidate for office are generally 
 not content with denouncing his principles, or deducing 
 from the tenor of his political life, grounds for question- 
 ing the purity of his motives. They accuse him boldly 
 of burglary or arson, or, at the very least, of petty lar- 
 ceny. Time, place, and circumstances, are all stated. 
 The candidate for Congress or the Presidency is broadly 
 asserted to have picked pockets or pocketed silver spoons, 
 or to have been guilty of something equally mean and 
 contemptible. Two instances of.this occur at this moment 
 to rny memory. In one newspaper, a member of Con- 
 gress was denounced as having feloniously broken open 
 a scrutoire, and having thence stolen certain bills and 
 bank-notes ; another was charged with selling franks at 
 twopence apiece, and thus coppering his pocket at the 
 expense of the public. 
 
 It may be that such charges obtain little credit with 
 the majority of the people, and I am willing to believe 
 that in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred they are ex- 
 aggerated, or even absolutely false : yet they evidently 
 obtain credit somewhere, or they would not be made.
 
 CHEAPNESS OF NEWSPAPERS. 453 
 
 However unfounded, the paper loses no support from 
 having advanced them; and where so much mud is 
 thrown, the chances are, that some portion of it will 
 stick. At all events, the tarnish left by the filthy and 
 offensive missile cannot be obliterated. In such a case, 
 innocence is no protection. The object of calumny feels 
 in his inmost soul that he has suffered degradation. He 
 cannot cherish the delusion that the purity of his cha- 
 racter has placed him above suspicion ; and those who 
 have studied human nature most deeply, are aware how 
 often " things outward do draw the inward quality after 
 them," and the opinion of the world works its own ac- 
 complishment. In general, suspected integrity rests on 
 a frail foundation. Public confidence is the corner-stone 
 of public honour ; and the man who is compelled to brave 
 suspicion, is already half prepared to encounter disgrace. 
 
 The circumstances to which I have alluded admit of 
 easy explanation. Newspapers are so cheap in the 
 United States, that the generality even of the lowest or- 
 der can afford to purchase them. They therefore de- 
 pend for support on the most ignorant class of the people. 
 Every thing they contain must be accommodated to the 
 taste and apprehension of men who labour daily for their 
 bread, and are, of course, indifferent to refinement either 
 of language or reasoning. With such readers, whoever 
 " peppers the highest is surest to please." Strong words 
 take place of strong arguments, and every vulgar booby 
 who can call names, and procure a set of types upon 
 credit, may set up as an editor, with a fair prospect of 
 success. 
 
 In England, it is fortunately still different. Newspa- 
 pers being expensive, the great body of their supporters 
 are to be found among people of comparative wealth and 
 intelligence, though they practically circulate among the 
 poorer classes in abundance sufficient for all purposes of 
 information. The public, whose taste they are obliged to 
 consult, is, therefore, of a higher order ; and the conse- 
 quence of this arrangement is apparent in the vast supe- 
 riority of talent they display, and in the wider range of 
 knowledge and argument which they hring to bear on all 
 questions of public interest. 
 
 How long this may continue it is impossible to predict,
 
 404 VIOLENCE OF POLITICAL HOSTILITY. 
 
 but I trust the Chancellor of the Exchequer will weigh 
 well the consequences, before he ventures to take off, or 
 even materially to diminish, the tax on newspapers. He 
 may rely on it, that, bad as the state of the public press 
 may be, it cannot be improved by any legislative mea- 
 sure. Remove the stamp duty, and the consequence will 
 inevitably be, that there will be two sets of newspapers, 
 one for the rich and educated, the other for the poor and 
 ignorant. England, like America, will be inundated by 
 productions contemptible in point of talent, but not the 
 less mischievous on that account. The check of enlight- 
 ened opinion the only efficient one on the press will 
 be annihilated. The standard of knowledge and morals 
 will be lowered ; and let it, above all, be remembered, 
 that this tax, if removed, can never after be imposed. 
 Once abolished, be the consequences what they may, it is abo- 
 lished for ever. The duty on advertisements is, undoubt- 
 edly, impolitic, and should be given up so soon as the 
 necessities of the revenue will admit of it; but I am con- 
 fidently persuaded that the government which shall per- 
 mit political journals to circulate in England without 
 restraint, will inflict an evil on the country, the conse- 
 quences of which will extend far beyond the present ge- 
 neration. 
 
 In America, the warfare of statesmen is no less viru- 
 lent than that of journals, and is conducted with the 
 same weapons. When discord lights her torch in the 
 cabinet of Washington, it blazes with unexampled vio- 
 lence. It was about this period that the cabinet of Ge- 
 neral Jackson suddenly exploded like a rocket, and the 
 country found itself without a ministry. This catastro- 
 phe was not produced by any external assault. All had 
 gone smoothly in Congress, and never was any ministry, 
 apparently, more firmly seated. Had the cabinet been 
 composed of bachelors, there is no saying how long or how 
 prosperously they might have conducted the affairs of the 
 country. Unfortunately, they were married men. One 
 minister's lady did not choose to visit the lady of another; 
 and General Jackson, finding his talent as a pacificator 
 inadequate to the crisis, determined on making a clear 
 deck, and organizing an administration whose policy 
 might be less influenced by conjugal cabals.
 
 STATE OF RELIGION. 405 
 
 The members of the dismissed cabinet had now full 
 liberty and leisure for crimination and abuse. A news- 
 paper correspondence commenced between Major Ea- 
 ton, the Secretary for the War Department, and Mr. 
 Ingham, the Secretary of the Treasury. The decent 
 courtesies of life were thrown aside; the coarsest epi- 
 thets were employed by both parties, the most atrocious 
 charges were advanced, and even female character was 
 not spared in this ferocious controversy. Nor is this a 
 solitary instance. Nearly at the same period the news- 
 papers contained letters of Mr. Crawford, formerly a 
 member of the Cabinet, assailing the character of Mr. 
 Calhoun, the Vice-President, in the same spirit, and with 
 the same weapons. 
 
 The truth is, that in all controversies of public men, 
 the only tribunal of appeal is the people, in the broadest 
 acceptation of the term. An American statesman must 
 secure the support of a numerical majority of the popu- 
 lation, or his schemes of ambition at once fall to the 
 ground. Give him the support of the vulgar, and he 
 may despise the opinion of the enlightened, the honour- 
 able, and the high-minded. He can only profess motives 
 palpable to the gross perceptions of the mean and igno- 
 rant. He adapts his language, therefore, not only to 
 their understandings, but to their taste; in short, he 
 must stoop to conquer, and, having done so, can never 
 resume the proud bearing and unbending attitude of in- 
 dependence. 
 
 In regard to religion, it is difficult, in a community pre- 
 senting such diversity of character as the United States, 
 to offer any observation which shall be universally or 
 even generally true. A stranger is evidently debarred 
 from that intimate and extensive knowledge of charac- 
 ter and motive, which could alone warrant his entering 
 very deeply into the subject. On the matter of religion, 
 therefore, I have but little to say, and that little shall be 
 said as briefly as possible. 
 
 Of these disgusting extravagances, recorded by other 
 travellers, I was not witness, because I was not anxious 
 to be so. But of the prevalence of such things as camp- 
 meetings and revivals, and of the ignorant fanaticism in 
 which they have their origin, there can be no doubt. It
 
 406 INFLUENCE OF THE METHODISTS. 
 
 is easy to lavish ridicule on such exhibitions, and de- 
 monstrate how utterly inconsistent they are with ra- 
 tional and enlightened piety. Still, it should be remem- 
 bered, that in a thinly-peopled country, any regular mi- 
 nistration of religion is frequently impossible; and if by 
 any process religion can be made to exercise a strong 
 and permanent influence on the character of those so si- 
 tuated, a great benefit has been conferred on society. 
 Where the choice lies between fanaticism and profligacy, 
 we cannot hesitate in preferring the former. 
 
 In a free community, the follies of the fanatic are 
 harmless. The points on which he differs from those 
 around him, are rarely of a nature to produce injurious 
 effects on his conduct as a citizen. But the man with- 
 out religion acknowledges no restraint but human laws ; 
 and the dungeon and the gibbet are necessary to secure 
 the rights and interests of his fellow-citizens from vio- 
 lation. There can be no doubt, therefore, that in a new- 
 ly-settled country,. the strong effect produced by these 
 camp-meetings and revivals, is, on the whole, beneficial. 
 The restraints of public opinion and penal legislation are 
 little felt in the wilderness; and, in such circumstances, 
 the higkfr principle of action, communicated by reli- 
 gion; wrhew and additional security to society. 
 
 ''Throughout the whole Union, I am assured, that the 
 Methodists have acquired a powerful influence. The 
 preachers of that sect are, generally, well adapted, by 
 character and training, for the duties they are appointed 
 to discharge. They perfectly understand the habits, 
 feelings, and prejudices of those whom they address. 
 They mingle in the social circles of the people, and thus 
 acquire knowledge of the secrets of families, which is 
 found eminently available in increasing their influence. 
 Through their means, religion becomes mingled with 
 the pursuits, and even the innocent amusements of life. 
 Young ladies chant hymns, instead of Irish melodies; 
 and the profane chorus gives place to rythmical doxolo- 
 gies. Grog parties commence with prayer, and termi- 
 nate with benediction. Devout smokers say grace over 
 a cigar, and chewers of the Nicotian weed insert a fresh 
 quid with an expression of pious gratitude. 
 
 This may appear ludicrous in description; yet it ought
 
 RELIGION IN THE TOWN AND COUNTRY. 407 
 
 not to be so. The sentiment of devotion, the love, the 
 hope, the gratitude, the strong and ruling desire to con- 
 form our conduct to the Divine will, the continual re- 
 cognition of God's mercy, even in our most trifling en- 
 joyments, are among the most valuable fruits of true 
 religion. If these are debased by irrational superstition, 
 and the occasional ravings of a disturbed imagination, 
 let us not reject the gold on account of the alloy, nor 
 think only of the sediment, which defiles the waters by 
 which a whole country is fertilized. 
 
 In the larger cities, there is no apparent deficiency of 
 religion. The number of churches is as great as in Eng- 
 land ; the habits of the people are moral and decorous ; 
 the domestic sanctities are rarely violated; and vice pays, 
 at least, the homage to virtue of assuming its deportment. 
 The clergy in those cities are men of respectable acquire- 
 ments, and, I believe, not inferior to those of other coun- 
 tries in zeal and piety. If the amount of encouragement 
 afforded to Sunday Schools, Missionary and Bible Soci- 
 eties, be assumed as the test of religious zeal, no defi- 
 ciency will be discovered in the Northern States. These 
 establishments flourish as luxuriantly as in England, 
 when the differences of wealth and population are taken 
 into account. Among the higher classes, I could detect 
 no appearance of religious jealousies or antipathies. 
 Those who, in the pursuits of politics or money, are ve- 
 hement and intolerant of opposition, exhibit in matters 
 of religion a spirit more tranquil and philosophical. 
 
 In the country, however, this is not the case. There, 
 differences of religious opinion rend society into shreds 
 and patches, varying in every thing of colour, form, and 
 texture. In a village, the population of which is barely 
 sufficient to fill one church, and support one clergyman, 
 the inhabitants are either forced to want religious minis- 
 tration altogether, or the followers of different sects must 
 agree on some compromise, by which each yields up 
 some portion of his creed to satisfy the objections of his 
 neighbour. This breeds argument, dispute, and bitter- 
 ness of feeling. The Socinian will not object to an 
 Arian clergyman, but declines having any thing to do 
 with a supporter of the Trinity. The Calvinist will con- 
 sent to tolerate the doctrine of free agency, if combined
 
 408 EDUCATION OF THE CLERGY. 
 
 with that of absolute and irrespective decrees. The Bap- 
 tist may give up the assertion of some favourite dogmas, 
 but clings to adult baptism as a sine qua non. And thus 
 with other sects. But who is to inculcate such a jumble 
 of discrepant and irreconcilable doctrine? No one can 
 shape his doctrine according to the anomalous and piebald 
 creed prescribed by such a congregation, and the practi- 
 cal result is that some one sect becomes victorious for 
 a time; jealousies deepen into antipathies, and what is 
 called an opposition church probably springs up in the 
 village. Still harmony is not restored. The rival clergy- 
 men attack each other from the pulpit; newspapers are 
 enlisted on either side; and religious warfare is waged 
 with the bitterness, if not the learning which has dis- 
 tinguished the controversies of abler polemics. 
 
 In the New England, and many of the Western States, 
 compliance with religious observances is classed among 
 the moral proprieties demanded by public opinion. In 
 the former, indeed, religion has been for ages here- 
 ditary, and, like an entailed estate, has descended, in un- 
 broken succession, from the Pilgrim fathers to the pre- 
 sent generation. But no where does it appear in a garb 
 less attractive, and no where are its warm charities and 
 milder graces less apparent to a stranger. 
 
 In the larger cities, I have already stated that the cler- 
 gy are, in general, men competent, from talent and edu- 
 cation, to impart religious instruction to their fellow-ci- 
 tizens. But in the country it is different. The clergy- 
 men with whom I had an opportunity of conversing 
 during my different journeys, were unlettered, and ig- 
 norant of theology, in a degree often scarcely credible. 
 Some of them seemed to have changed their tenets as 
 they do their coats. One told me that he had com- 
 menced his clerical life as a Calvinist; he then became a 
 Baptist; then a Universalist; and was, when I met him, 
 a Unitarian ! 
 
 There is one advantage of an established church, 
 which only those, perhaps, who have visited the United 
 States can duly appreciate. In England, a large body 
 of highly educated gentlemen annually issue from the 
 Universities to discharge the duties of the clerical office 
 throughout the kingdom. By this means, a certain sta-
 
 GENERAL IMPRESSION OF THE AMERICANS. 409 
 
 bility is given to religious opinion; and even those who 
 dissent from the church, are led to judge of their pastors 
 by a higher standard, and to demand a greater amount 
 of qualification than is ever thought' of in a country like 
 the United States. This result is undoubtedly of the 
 highest benefit to the community. The light of the es- 
 tablished church penetrates to the chapel of the dissenter, 
 and there is a moral check on religious extravagance, the 
 operation of which is not the less efficacious, because it is 
 silent and unperceived by those on whom its influence 
 is exerted. 
 
 Religion is not one of those articles-, the supply of 
 which may be left to be regulated by the demand. The 
 necessity for it is precisely greatest when the demand is 
 least; and a government neglects its first and highest 
 duty, which fails to provide for the spiritual as well as 
 temporal wants of its subjects. But on the question of 
 religious establishments, I cannot enter. I only wish to 
 record my conviction, that those, who adduce the state 
 of religion in the United States as affording illustration 
 of the inutility of an established church, are either bad 
 reasoners or ignorant men. 
 
 I have now done. I fear it will be collected from 
 these volumes, that my impressions of the moral and 
 political condition of the Americans are on the whole 
 unfavourable. I regret this, but cannot help it. If opi- 
 nion depended on will, mine would be different. I re- 
 turned to England with a strong feeling of gratitude for 
 the hospitality I experienced in all parts of the Union; 
 and I can truly declare, that no pride or pertinacity of 
 judgment will prevent my cherishing the sincere wish, 
 that all the evils which appear to me to impend over the 
 future destinies of this rising country may be averted, 
 and that the United States may afford a great and lasting, 
 example of freedom and prosperity. 
 
 Let enlightened Americans who visit England write 
 of her institutions in the same spirit of freedom which I 
 have used in discussing the advantages of theirs. It is 
 for the benefit of both nations that their errors and incon*- 
 sistencies should be rigorously and unsparingly detected. 
 A blunder exposed ceases to be injurious, arid instead of 
 a dangerous precedent, becomes a useful beacon. When 
 
 52
 
 410 CONCLUSION. 
 
 a writer has to deal with fallacies affecting the welfare of 
 a community, he should express himself boldly. There 
 should be no mincing of word or argument no equivo- 
 cation of dissent no dalliance with falsehood no vail- 
 ing the dignity of a good cause. Truth should never 
 strike her topsails in compliment to ignorance or sophis> 
 try, and if the battle be fought yard-arm to yard-arm, 
 however her cause may occasionally suffer from the 
 weakness of its champions, it is sure to prove ultimately 
 victorious. 
 
 On the 20th of July, I sailed in the Birminghan for 
 Liverpool; and, on the 12th of August, had the satisfac- 
 tion of again planting my foot on the soil of Old Eng- 
 land. 
 
 FINIS.
 
 NEW BOOKS 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 CAREY, LEA & BLANCHARD. 
 
 PENCIL SKETCHES; or Outlines of Characters 
 and Manners, by Miss Leslie. 
 
 " Look here upon this picture and on this." SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 " Miss Leslie hits skilfully and hard, the follies, foibles, and exceptionable 
 manners of our meridian. She is perhaps too severe; she draws too broadly; 
 but she is always more or less entertaining, and conveys salutary lessons 
 even in her strongest caricatures. Her subjects, incidents, and persons are 
 happily chosen for her purpose." Wat. Gazette. 
 
 "The happy faculty she has of catching a thousand little peculiarities of 
 manner, and hitting off the broader features of character, certainly entitles 
 Miss Leslie to very great praise. As a new writer she holds forth liberal 
 promise for her future efforts." JV. Y. American. 
 
 ROSINE LAVAL, a novel, by Mr. Smith. 
 
 " This is the production of an American, who, we think, is destined to add 
 largely to our reputation, in the line which he has selected for his future ef- 
 fortsthat of a novelist. The work before us is well written, and particu- 
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 there are occasional flashes of wit which will pass as such with critics far 
 more severe than we are disposed to be. As a first attempt for such we 
 know it to be it is a production of no ordinary merit, and will, we think, 
 meet with a reception calculated to inspirit the author to farther and still 
 more successful efforts. We take pleasure in recommending Rosine Laval 
 to our readers as being far, very far, superior to nineteen-twentieths of the 
 novels which are daily issuing from the press." JV. Y. Courier <$ Inquirer. 
 
 THE SUMMER FETE, A Poem, with songs, by 
 Thomas Moore, Esq., author of Irish Melodies, &c. &c. 
 
 THE WONDROUS TALE OF ALROY, by D'ls- 
 
 raeli, author of Vivian Grey, &c. &c. 2 vols. 12mo. 
 
 " Wild and mysteriqus and powerful as is the narrative of this tale, it be- 
 guiles the reader to make but one journey in travelling through it, and 
 when he finds himself at the end, he looks back with wonder upon what he 
 has gone through, and pants for breath." Lady's Mag. 
 
 THE BUCCANEER, in 2 vols. 12mo. by Mrs. S. 
 C. Hall, author of " Sketches of Irish Character," &c. 
 
 " An admirable historical romance, full of interest, and with many new 
 views of character. The plot is extremely well conceived, very artful and 
 progressing, the story never flags, and you open at once upon the main inte- 
 rest." Jftw Monthly Magazine.
 
 LITERATURE FRANCAISE. 
 
 BIBLIOTHEQUE CHOISIE DE LITERATURE 
 FRANCAISE. Select Library of Modern French 
 Literature, published semi-monthly, each number to 
 contain 60 pages. Price 6 dollars per annum, or 5, if 
 paid in advance. 
 
 The editor is fully aware of the necessity of caution 
 in the selection of books for republication, and^it will be 
 his study to avoid all those that a father might hesitate to 
 place in the hands of his daughters. All new books of 
 importance, in the various departments of polite literature, 
 will be received immediately after publication in Paris, 
 and every exertion will be made so to diversify the con- 
 tents of this work, as to give a satisfactory idea of the 
 French literature of the present day. 
 
 DELORAINE, A novel, in 2 vols., by Mr. Godwin, 
 author of Caleb Williams, &c. &c. 
 
 " We always regarded the novels of Godwin, as grand productions. No one 
 ever more forcibly portrayed the workings of mind, whether it were in its 
 joyous hilarity of happiness, or in the sublime agonies of despair. His tales, 
 if we may so express it, have each but one character, and one end ; but that 
 character, how aii-absuibing in interest, and how vividly depicted ; and that 
 end how consistent with its preliminaries, how satisfactory, and how beauti- 
 ful." Metropolitan. 
 
 " A' creation of an imagination to the last degree wonderful, grand and 
 striking as an' outline of which -in his best days, he need not have been 
 ashamed. The female character is, in many respects, beautifully developed." 
 JVfcie Monthly Magazine. 
 
 EBEN ERSKINE, OR THE TRAVELLER, a 
 novel, by John Gait, author of the Entail, Annals of the 
 Parish, Life of Byron, &c. 
 
 " A clever and intelligent author. There is a quaint humour and observance 
 of character in his novels that interests me very much, and when he chooses 
 to be pathetic, he fools one to his bent, for I assure you the Entail beguiled 
 me of some portion of watery humours, yclept tears, albeit unused to the melt- 
 ing mood. He has a sly caustic humour that is very amusing." Lord Byron 
 to Lady Blessington. 
 
 " One of the remarkable characteristics of Gait, is to be found in the rare 
 power he possesses of giving such an appearance of actual truth to his narra- 
 tive, as induces the reader to doubt whether that which he is perusing, under 
 the name of a novel, be not rather a statement of amusing facts, than an 
 invented story." 
 
 LEGENDS OF THE LIBRARY AT LILIES, 
 
 by the Lord and Lady there, in 2 vols. I2mo. 
 
 " Two delightful volumes, various, graceful, with the pathos exquisiti vely 
 relieved by gaiety ; and the romantic legend well contrasted by the lively 
 sketch from actual existence." Literary Gazette.
 
 SCOTT, COOPER, AND WASHINGTON IRVING 
 
 BY SIR WAIiTER SCOTT. 
 
 IOUNT ROBERT OF PARIS, a Tale of 
 the Lower Empire. By the Author of Wa- 
 verley. In 3 vols. 
 
 "The reader will at once perceive that the subject, 
 he characters and the scenes of action, could not have 
 Jeen better selected tfor the display of the various and un- 
 qualled powers of the author. All that is glorious in arts 
 and splendid in arms the glitter of armor, the pomp of 
 var, and the splendor of chivalry the gorgeous scenery 
 f the Bosphorus the ruins of Byzantium the magnifi- 
 euri 1 of the Grecian capital, and the richness and volup 
 uousness of the imperial court, will rise before the reader 
 n a succession of beautiful and dazzling images." Com- 
 mercial Advertiser. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF SIR WALTER 
 SCOTT. With a Portrait. 
 
 " This is a delightful volume, which cannot fail to sat- 
 sfy every reader, and of which the contents ought to be 
 tnown to all those who would be deemed conversant with 
 he literature of our era." National Gazette. 
 
 HISTORY OF SCOTLAND. In 2 vols. 
 
 " The History of Scotland, by Sir Walter Scott, we do 
 lot hesitate to declare, will be, if possible, more exten- 
 ively read, than the most popular work of fiction, by the 
 ame prolific author, and for this obvious reason : it com- 
 'lies much of the brilliant coloring of the Ivanhoe pic- 
 ures of by-gone manners, and all the graceful facility of 
 tyle and picturesqueness of description of his other 
 harming romances, with a minute fidelity to the facts 
 if history, and a searching scrutiny into their authenti- 
 ity and relative value, which might put to the blush 
 Mr. HiunR and other professed historians. Such is the 
 magic charm of Sir Walter Scott's pen, it has only to 
 ouch th simplest incident of every-day life, and it starts 
 up invested with all the interest of n scene of romance ; 
 and yet such is his fidelity to the text of nature, that the 
 knijrhts, and serfs, and collared fools with whom his in- 
 entive genius has peopled so many volumes, are regarded 
 >y us as not mere creations of fancy, but as real flesh and 
 )lood existences, with all the virtues, feelings and errors 
 of common-place humanity." Lit. Gazette. 
 
 TALES OF A GRANDFATHER, being a 
 series from French History. By the Author 
 of WAVERLEY. 
 
 BY MR. COOPER. 
 
 THE BRAVO. By the Author of the SPY, 
 PILOT, &c. In 2 vols. 
 
 THE WATER-WITCH, OR THE SKIMMER 
 OF THE SEAS. In 2 vols. 
 
 " We have no hesitation in classing this among the 
 most powerful of the romances of our countryman." 
 U. States Gazette. 
 
 THE HEIDENMAUER; or, THE BENEDIC- 
 TINES. 2 vols. 
 
 New Editions of the following Works by the 
 same Author. 
 
 NOTIONS OF THE AMERICANS, by a 
 Travelling Bachelor, 2 vols. 12mo. 
 
 THE WEPT OF WISH-TON-WISH, 2 vols. 
 12mo. 
 
 THE RED ROVER, 2 vols. 12mo. 
 
 THE SPY, 2 vols. 12mo. 
 
 THE PIONEERS, 2 vols. 12mo. 
 
 THE PILOT, a Tale of the Sea, 2 ?ols. 12mo. 
 
 LIONEL LINCOLN, OR THE LEAGUER OF 
 
 BOSTON, 2 vols. 
 THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS, 2 vols. 
 
 12mo. 
 
 THE PRAIRIE, 2 vols. 12mo. 
 
 BY WASHINGTON IRVING. 
 
 VOYAGES AND ADVENTURES OF THK 
 COMPANIONS OF COLUMBUS. By 
 WASHINGTON IRVING, Author of the Life 
 of Columbus, &c. 1 vol. 8vo. 
 " Of the main work we may repeat that it possesses 
 the value of important history and the magnetism of ro- 
 mantic adventure. It sustains in every respect the repu- 
 tation of Irving." " We may hope that the gifted author 
 will treat in like manner the enterprises and exploits o'.' 
 Pizarro and Cortes ; and thus complete a scries of elegar/t 
 recitals, which will contribute to the especial gratifica- 
 tion of Americans, and form an imperishable fund of 
 delightful instruction for all ages and countries." Jfat. 
 Gazette. 
 
 " As he leads us from one savage tribe to another, as 
 he paints successive scenes of heroism, perseverance and 
 self-denial, as he wanders among the magnificent scenes 
 of nature, as he relates with scrupulous fidelity the 
 errors, and the crimes, even of those whose lives are for 
 the most part marked with traits to command admira- 
 tion, and perhaps esteem everywhere we find him the 
 same undeviating, but beautiful moralist, gathering from 
 every incident some lesson to present in striking lan- 
 guage to the reason and the heart." Am. Quarterly Re- 
 view. 
 
 " This is a delightful volume; for the preface truly says 
 that the expeditions narrated and springing out of the 
 voyages of Columbus may be compared with attempts of 
 adventurous knights-errant to achieve the enterprise left 
 unfinished by some illustrious predecessors. Washington 
 Irving's name is a pledge how well their stories will be 
 told: and we only regret that we must of necessity defer 
 our extracts for a week." London Lit. Gazette. 
 
 A CHRONICLE OF THE CONQUEST OF 
 GRENADA. By WASHINGTON IRVING, 
 Esq. In 2 vols. 
 
 "On the whole, this work will sustain the high fame 
 of Washington Irving. It fills a blank in the historical 
 library which ought not to have remained so long a 
 blank. The language throughout is at once chaste and 
 animated ; and the narrative may be said, like Spenser's 
 Fairy Queen, to present one long gallery of splendid pic- 
 tures." Land. Lit. Gazette. 
 
 "Collecting his materials from various historians, and 
 adopting in some degree the tone and manner of a monk- 
 ish chroniclcr,.he has embodied them in a narrative which 
 in manner reminds us of the rich and storied pages of 
 Froissart. He dwells on the feats of chivalry performed 
 by the Christian Knights, with all the ardor which might 
 be expected from a priest, who mixed, according to the 
 usage of the times, not only in the palaces of courtly 
 nobles, and their gay festivals, as an honored and wel- 
 come guest, but who was their companion in the camp, 
 and their spiritual and indeed bodily comforter and as- 
 sistant in (In; field of battle. Am. Quarterly Review. 
 
 New Editions of the following Works by the 
 same Author. 
 
 T.HE SKETCH BOOK, 2 vols. 12mo. 
 
 KNICKERBOCKER'S HISTORY OF NEW 
 YORK, revised and corrected. 2 vols. 
 
 BRACEBRIDGE HALL, OR THE HUMOR- 
 ISTS, 2 vols. 12mo. 
 
 TALES OF A TRAVELLER, 2 vols. 12mo.
 
 CLASSICAL LITERATURE. 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF THE 
 GREEK CLASSIC POETS, for the use of 
 Young Persons at School or College. 
 
 Contents. General Introduction; Ho- 
 meric Questions ; Life of Homer ; Iliad 
 Odyssey; Margites; 'Batrachomyomachia 
 Hymns ; Hesiod. By Henry Nelson Cole- 
 ridge. 
 
 " VTe have been highly pleased with this little volume 
 This work supplies a want which we have often painfully 
 felt, and affords a manual which we should gladly see 
 placed in the hands of every embryo under-graduate 
 We look forward to the next portion of this work with 
 very eager and impatient expectation." Britis/i Critic. 
 
 " Mr. Coleridge's work not only deserves the praise of 
 clear, eloquent and scholar-like exposition of the prelimi- 
 nary matter, which is necessary in order to understand 
 and enter into the character of the great Poet of anti- 
 quity; but it has likewise the more rare merit of being 
 admirably adapted for its acknowledged purpose. It is 
 written in thai fresh and ardent spirit, which to the con- 
 genial mind of youth, will convey instruction in the 
 nost effective manner, by awakening the desire of it; 
 and by enlisting the lively and buoyant feelings in the 
 cause of useful and improving study; while, by its preg- 
 nant brevity, it is more likely to stimulate than to super- 
 ede more profound and extensive research. If then, as it 
 s avowedly intended for the use of the younger readers 
 of Homer, and, as it is impossible not In discover, with a 
 nore particular view to the great school to which the au 
 hor owes his education, we shall be much mistaken if it 
 iocs not become as popular as it will be useful in that 
 :elebrated establishment." Quarterly Review. 
 
 " We sincerely hope that Mr. Coleridge will favor us 
 vith a continuation of his work, which he promises." 
 
 Gent. Mag: 
 
 ''The author of this elegant volume has collected a vast 
 nass of valuable information. To the higher classes of 
 he public schools, and young men of universities, this 
 olumo will be especially valuable; as it will afford an 
 
 agreeable relief of light reading to more grave studies, at 
 nee instructive and entertaining." Wesley an Methodist 
 
 Magazine. 
 
 VTLAS OF ANCIENT GEOGRAPHY, con- 
 sisting of 21 Colored Maps, with a complete 
 Accentuated Index. By SAMUEL BUTLER, 
 D. D., F. R. S. &c. Archdeacon of Derby. 
 
 By the same Author. 
 
 GEOGRAPHIA CLASSICA: a Sketch of 
 Ancient Geography, for the Use of Schools. 
 In 8vo. 
 
 Extract of a Letter from Professor Stuart of 
 
 Andover. 
 
 " I have used Butlor's Atlas Classica for 12 or 14 years, 
 nd prefer it on the score of convenience and correctness 
 o any atlas within the compass of my knowledge. It 
 s evidently a work of much care and taste, and most 
 <ily adapted to classical readers and indeed all others, 
 vho consult the history of past ages. I have long cherish- 
 d a strong desire to see the work brought forward in this 
 ,ountry, and I am exceedingly gratified that you have 
 arried through this undertaking. The beautiful manner 
 n which the specimen is executed that you have sent me 
 loes great credit to engravers and publishers. It cannot 
 ).' that our schools and colleges will fail to adopt this 
 work, and bring it into very general circulation. I know 
 f none which in all respects would supply its place." 
 "The abridged but classical and excellent work of But- 
 er, on Ancient Geosraphy, which you are printing as an 
 accompaniment to the maps, I consider one of the most 
 ittractive works of the kind, especially for young persons 
 tudying the classics, that has come under my notice. I 
 wish you the most ample success in these highly useful 
 publications." 
 
 MECHANICS, MANUFACTURES, &c, 
 
 A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON RAIL 
 ROADS, AND INTERIOR COMMUNI 
 CATION IN GENERAL containing a 
 account of the performances of the differen 
 Locomotive Engines at, and subsequent to 
 the Liverpool Contest; upwards of tw 
 hundred and sixty Experiments with Table 
 of the comparative value of Canals and Rai 
 roads, and the power of the present Locomo 
 live Engines. By NICHOLAS WOOD, Collier 
 Viewer, Member of the Institution of Civ" 
 Engineers, &c. 8vo. with plates. 
 
 " In this, the able author has brought up his treatise t 
 the date of the latest improvements in this national! 
 important plan. We consider the volume to be one o 
 great general interest." Lit. Oaz. 
 
 "We must, injustice, refer the reader to the wor 
 itself, strongly assuring him that, whether he be a man o 
 scrence, or one totally unacquainted with its technica 
 difficulties, he will here receive instruction and pleasure 
 in a degree which we have seldom seen united before." 
 Monthly Rev. 
 
 REPORTS ON LOCOMOTIVE AND FIXED 
 ENGINES. By J. STEPHENSON and 
 WALKER, Civil Engineers. With an Ac 
 count of the Liverpool and Manchester Rail 
 road, by H. BOOTH. In 8vo. with plates. 
 
 MILLWRIGHT AND MILLER'S GUIDE 
 By OLIVER EVANS. New Edition, with ad 
 ditions and corrections, by the Professor o: 
 Mechanics in the Franklin Institute o: 
 Pennsylvania, and a description of an im 
 proved Merchant Flour-Mill, with engrav 
 ings, by C. & O. EVANS, Engineers. 
 
 THE NATURE AND PROPERTIES OF THE 
 SUGAR CANE, with Practical Directions 
 for its Culture, and the Manufacture of its 
 various Products; detailing the improvec 
 Methods of Extracting, Boiling, Refining 
 and Distilling; also Descriptions of the Best 
 Machinery, and useful Directions for the 
 general Management of Estates. By GEORGE 
 RICHARDSON PORTER. 
 
 'This volume contains a valuable mass of scientific 
 nid practical information, and is. indeed, n compendium 
 of everything interesting relative to colonial agriculture 
 and manufacture." Intelligencer. 
 "We can altogether recommend this volume as a most 
 aluable addition to the library of Hie home West India 
 Merchant, as well as that of the resident planter." Lit 
 Ga-.ette. 
 
 "This work may be considered one of the most valua- 
 ble books that has yet issued from the press connected 
 with colonial interests; indeed, we know of no sreater 
 service we could render West India proprietors, than in 
 recommending the study of Mr. Porter's volume." Spec- 
 tator. 
 
 " The work before us contains such valuable, scientific, 
 and practical information, that we have no doubt it will 
 find a place in the library of every planter and person 
 connected with our sugar colonies." Monthly Magazine. 
 
 A TREATISE ON MECHANICS. By JAMES 
 RENWICK, Esq. Professor of Natural and 
 Experimental Philosophy, Columbia College, 
 N. Y. In 8vo. with numerous engravings.
 
 LARDNER S CABINET CYCLOPAEDIA. 
 
 " OF THE MANY WORKS WHICH HAVE BEEN LATELY MB- 
 L13HED IN IMITATION, OR ON THE PLAN ADOPTED BY THE 
 SOCIETY FOR THE DIFFUSION OP USEFUL KNOWLEDGE, DR. 
 LARDNER'S CYCLOPEDIA IS BY MUCH THE MOST VALUA- 
 BLE, AND THE MOST RECOMMENDED BY DISTINGUISHED 
 ASSISTANCE, SCIENTIFIC AND LITERARY." 
 
 Edinburgh Review. 
 
 HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By Sir James 
 Mackintosh. In 8 Vols. Ill Vols. pub- 
 lished. 
 
 " In the first volume of Sir James Mackintosh's His- 
 tory of England, we find enough to warrant the antici- 
 pations of the public, that a calm and luminous philoso- 
 phy will diffuse itself over the long narrative of our Brit- 
 ish History." Edinburgh Review. 
 
 " In this volume Sir James Mackintosh fully developes 
 those great powers, for the possession of which the public 
 have long given him credit. The result is the ablest com- 
 mentary that has yet appeared in our language upon some 
 of the most important circumstances of English History." 
 
 litlaa. 
 
 " Worthy in the method, style, and reflections, of the 
 author's high reputation. We were particularly pleased 
 with his high vein of philosophical sentiment, and his 
 occasional survey of contemporary annals." National 
 Gazette. 
 
 " If talents of the highest order, long experience in po- 
 litics, and years of application to the study of history 
 and the collection of information, can command superi- 
 ority in a historian, Sir James Mackintosh may, without 
 reading this work, be said to have produced the best his- 
 tory of this country. A perusal of the work will prove 
 that those who anticipated a superior production, have 
 not reckoned in vain on the high qualifications of the 
 author." Courier. 
 
 " Our anticipations of this volume were certainly very 
 highly raised, and unlike such anticipations in general, 
 they have not been disappointed. A philosophical spirit, 
 a nervous style, and a full knowledge of the subject, ac- 
 quired by considerable research into the works of pro- 
 ceding chroniclers and historians, eminently distinguish 
 this popular abridgment, and cannot fail to recommend it 
 to universal approbation. In continuing his work as he 
 has begun, Sir James Mackintosh will confer a great bene- 
 fit on his country." Land. Lit. Gazette. 
 
 Of its general merits, and its permanent value, it is 
 impossible to speak, without the highest commendation, 
 and after a careful and attentive perusal of the two vol- 
 umes which have been published, we are enabled to de- 
 clare that, so far, Sir James Mackintosh has performed 
 the duty t which he was assigned, with all the ability 
 that was to be expected from his great previous attain- 
 ments, his laborious industry in investigation, his excel- 
 lent judgment, his superior talents, and his honorable 
 principles " Inquirer. 
 
 " We shall probably extract the whols of his view of 
 the reformation, merely to show how that important topic 
 has been handled by so able and philosophical a writer, 
 professing Protestantism. National Guzet/e. 
 
 " The talents of Sir James Mackintosh are so justly and 
 deeply respected, that a strong interest is necessarily ex- [ 
 cited with regard to any work which such a distinguished j 
 writer may think fit to undertake. In the present instance, 
 as in all others, our expectations are fully gratified." 
 Gentleman's Magazine. 
 
 " The second volume of the History of England, form- 
 ing the sixth of Carey & Lea's Cabinet Cyclopaedia, has 
 been sent abroad, and entirely sustains the reputation of 
 its predecessors. The various factions and dissensions, 
 the important trials and battles, which render this period 
 so conspicuous in the page of history, are all related with 
 great clearness and masterly power." Boiton Traveller. 
 
 HISTORY OF SCOTLAND. By Sir Walter 
 Scott. In H Vols. 
 
 " The History of Scotland, by Sir Walter Scott, we do 
 not hesitate to declare, will be, if possible, more exten 
 sively read, than the most popular work of fiction, by the 
 same prolific author, and for this obvious reason : it com 
 bines much of the brilliant coloring of the Ivanhoe pic 
 tures of by -gone manners, and all the graceful facility ol 
 style and picturesqueness of description of his othe 
 charming romances, with a minute fidelity to the fact 
 of history, and a searching scrutiny into their authenti 
 city and relative value, which might put to the blush 
 Mr. Hume and other professed historians. Such is the 
 magic charm of Sir Walter Scott's pen, it has only t< 
 touch the simplest incident of every-day life, and it start 
 up invested with all the interest of a scene of romance 
 and yet such is his fidelity to the text of nature, that the 
 knights, and serfs, and collared fools with whom his in 
 ventive genius has peopled so many volumes, are regarde< 
 by us as not mere creations of fancy, but as real flesh an< 
 blood existences, with all the virtues, feelings and errors 
 of common-place humanity." Lit. Gazette. 
 
 BIOGRAPHY OF BRITISH STATESMEN; 
 containing the Lives of Sir Thomas More, 
 Cardinal Wolsey, Archbishop Cranmer, 
 and Lord Bnrleigh. 
 
 " A very delightful volume, and on a subject likely to 
 increase in interest as it proceeds. * * * We cordially 
 commend the work both for it design and execution." 
 Ltnd. Lit. Gazette. 
 
 HISTORY OF FRANCE. By Eyre Evans 
 Crowe. In 3 vols. 
 
 HISTORY OF FRANCE, from the Restora- 
 tion of the Bourbons, to the Revolution 
 of 1830. By T. B. Macaulay, Esq. M. P. 
 Nearly ready. 
 
 " The style is concise and clear ; and events are sum 
 med up with much vigor and originality." Lit. Gazette. 
 
 " His history of France is worthy to figure with the 
 works of his associates, the best of their day, Scott and 
 Mackintosh." Monthly Mag. 
 
 " For such a task Mr. Crowe is eminently qualified 
 At a glance, as it were, his eye takes in the theatre o: 
 centuries. His style is neat, clear, and pithy; and hii 
 power of condensation enables him to say much, am 
 effectively, in a few word?, to present a distinct am 
 perfect picture in a narrowly circumscribed space." La 
 Belle Assembles. 
 
 " The style is neat and condensed ; the thoughts am 
 conclusions sound and just. The necessary conciseness 
 of the narrative is unaccompanied by any baldness ; on 
 the contrary, it U spirited and engaging." Bait, dmeri 
 can. 
 
 "To compress the history of a great nation, daring a 
 period of thirteen hundred years, into three volumes, am 
 to preserve sufficient distinctness as well as interest in 
 the narrative, to enable and induce the reader to possess 
 himself clearly of all the leading incidents, is a task by 
 no means easily executed. It has, nevertheless, been weir 
 accomplished in this instance." JV. Y. American. 
 
 "Written with spirit and taste." U. 5. Gazette. 
 
 "Could we but persuade our young friends to give 
 these volumes a careful perusal, we should feel assurec 
 of their grateful acknowledgments of profit and pleas- 
 ure.''^. Y. Mirror. 
 
 " At onco concise and entertaining." Saturday Bui 
 lain. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE NETHERLANDS, 
 to the Battle of "Waterloo. By T. C. Grat- 
 tan. 
 
 " It is but justice to Mr. Grattan to say that he has 
 executed bis laborious task with much industry and pro- 
 portionate effect. Undisfigured by pompous nothingness, 
 and without any of the affectation of philosophical pro- 
 fundity, his style is simple, light, and fresh perspicuous, 
 smooth, and harmonious." La Belle jSsscmblee. 
 
 "Never did work appear at a more fortunate period. 
 The volume before us is a compressed but clear and im- 
 partial narrative." Lit. Gaz. 
 
 " A long residence in the country, and a ready access to 
 libraries and archives, have furnished Mr. Grattan with 
 materials which lie has arranged with skill, and out of 
 which he has produced a most interesting volume." 
 Gent. Mag.
 
 CABINET LIBRARY. 
 
 No. 1. NARRATIVE OF THE LATE 
 WAR IN GERMANY AND FRANCE. 
 By the MARQUESS OF LONDONDERRY. With 
 a Map. 
 
 No. 2. JOURNAL OF A NATURALIST, 
 
 with plates. 
 
 No. 3. AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF SIR WAL- 
 TER SCOTT. With a portrait 
 
 No. 4 MEMOIRS OF SIR WALTER RA- 
 LEGH. By Mrs. A. T. THOMSON. With a 
 portrait 
 
 No. 5. LIFE OF BELISARIUS. By Lord 
 MAHON. 
 
 No. 6. MILITARY MEMOIRS OF THE 
 DUKE OF WELLINGTON. By Capt. 
 MOYLE SHERER. With a portrait. 
 
 No. 7. LETTERS TO A YOUNG NATU- 
 RALIST ON THE STUDY OF NATURE 
 AND NATURAL THEOLOGY. By J. L. 
 DRUMMOND, M. D. With numerous en- 
 gravings. 
 
 IN PREPARATION. 
 
 LIFE OF PETRARCH. By THOMAS MOORE. 
 LEANINGS IN NATURAL HISTORY, 
 
 being a Companion to the Journal of a Nat- 
 uralist 
 
 " The Cabinet Library bids fair to be a series of great 
 alue, and is recommended to public and private libraries, 
 o professional men, and miscellaneous readers generally! 
 it is beautifully printed, and furnished at a price which 
 
 will place it within the reach of all classes of society." 
 
 American Traveller, 
 
 " The series of instructive, and, in their original form 
 xpensive works, which these enterprising publishers are 
 now issuing under the title of the "Cabinet Library," 
 s a fountain of useful, and almost universal knowledge ; 
 the advantages of which, in forming the opinions, tastes, 
 and manners of that portion of society, to which this 
 varied information is yet new, cannot be too highly 
 estimated." National Journal. 
 
 " Messrs. Carey and Lea have commenced a series of 
 Nihlications iiii'ler the above title, which an; to appear 
 nonthly, ami which seem likely, from the specimen before 
 is, to acquire a high degree of popularity, and to afford 
 a mass of various information and rich entertainment, 
 at once eminently useful and strongly attractive. The 
 mechanical execution is fine, the paper and typography 
 "xcellent." Jfaiimille Banner. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF SIR W AL- 
 TER RALEGH, with some Account of the 
 Period in which he lived. By MRS. A. T. 
 THOMSON. With a Portrait. 
 
 "Such is the outline of a life, which, in Mrs. Thom- 
 son's hands, is a mine of interest ; from the first page to 
 tin; last the attention is roused and sustained, and while 
 wo approve; the manner, we still more applaud the spirit 
 in which it is executed." Literary Gazette. 
 
 JOURNAL OF A NATURALIST. With 
 Plates. 
 
 -Plants, trees, and stones we note; 
 
 Birds, insects, beasts, and rural things. 
 
 " We again most strongly recommend this little unpre- 
 tending volume to the attention of every lover of nature, 
 
 and more particularly of our country readers. It will 
 induce them, we are sure, to examine more closely than 
 they have been accustomed to do, into the objects of ani- 
 mated nature, and such examination will prove one of 
 the most innocent, and the most satisfactory sources of 
 gratification and amusement. It is a book that ought 
 lo find its way into every rural drawing-room in the 
 kingdom, and one that may safely be placed in every 
 lady's boudoir, be her rank and station in life what they 
 may."' Quarterly Review, No. LXXVIII. 
 
 We think that there are few readers who will not 
 be delighted (we are certain all will be instructed) by the 
 ' Journal of a Naturalist.' " Monthly Jievieio. 
 
 " This is a most delightful book on the most delightful 
 of all studies. We are acquainted with no previous 
 work which bears any resemblance to this, except 
 ' White's History of Srlborne,' the most fascinating piece 
 of rural writing and sound English philosophy that ever 
 issued from the press." Athcnaum. 
 
 "The author of the volume now before us, has pro 
 duced one of the most charming volumes we remember 
 to have seen for a long time." Nete Monthly Magazine, 
 June, 1829. 
 
 "A delightful volume perhaps the most so nor less 
 instructive and amusing given to Natural History 
 since White's Selborne." Blackwood's Magazine. 
 
 The Journal of a Naturalist, being the second num- 
 ber of Carey and Lea's beautiful edition of the Cabinet 
 Library, is the best treatise on subjects connected wilh 
 this train of thought, that we have for a long time pe 
 msed, and we are not at all surprised that it should have 
 received so high and flattering encomiums from the Eng- 
 lish press generally." Boston Traveller. 
 
 Furnishing an interesting and familiar account of 
 the various objects of animated nature, but calculated 
 to afford both instruction and entertainment." JVuA- 
 ville Banner. 
 
 One of the most agreeable works of its kind in the 
 language." Courier de la Louiatane. 
 
 " It abounds with numerous and curious facts, pleas- 
 ing illustrations of the secret operations and economy of 
 nature, and satisfactory displays of the power, wisdom 
 ajid goodness, of the great Creator." Philad. Album. 
 
 THE MARQUESS OF LONDONDERRY'S 
 NARRATIVE OF THE LATE "WAR IN 
 GERMANY AND FRANCE. With a Map. 
 
 "No history of the events to which it relates can be 
 correct without reference to its statements." Literary 
 
 Gazette. 
 
 "The events detailed in this volume cannot fail to 
 excite an intense interest." Dublin Literary Gazette. 
 
 "The only connected and well authenticated account 
 we nave of the spirit-stirring scenes which preceded the 
 fall of Napoleon. It introduces us into the cabinets and 
 presence of the allied monarchs. We observe the secret 
 policy of each individual : we see the course pursued by 
 the wily Bernadotte, the temporizing Metternicn, and 
 the ambitious Alexander. The work deserves a place in 
 every historical library." Globe. 
 
 "We hail with pleasure the appearance of the first 
 volume of the Cabinet Library." " The author had sin- 
 gular facilities for obtaining the materials of his work, 
 and he has introduced us to the movements and measures 
 of cabinets which have hitherto been hidden from the 
 world." American Traveller. 
 
 "It maybe regarded as the most authentic of all the 
 publications which profess to detail the events of the 
 important campaigns, terminating with that which se- 
 cured the capture of the French metropolis." JV(. Jour- 
 nal. 
 
 " It is in fact the only authentic account of the memo- 
 rable events to which it refers." Jfas/tville Banner. 
 
 " The work deserves a place in every library." Phila- 
 delphia Jilbum.
 
 A 000108777 4 
 
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