CHAPTER III.

Maternal Affections of American Ladies—their Cause.—Want of Romance in the Lives of American Gentlemen.—Moral and Religious Cant.—Daniel Webster’s Principle of resisting arrogant Innovation.—Reflections on the Democratic, Aristocratic, and Monarchical Forms of Government.—The Bunker Hill Monument.—Want of Patriotism in the Higher Classes of Americans.—The English Feeling in Boston.—Americans passing for Englishmen in Europe.—Anecdotes.—The American Aristocracy take the House of Lords under their Protection.—Their Contempt for the Western Settlers.—The American Character not understood in Europe.

“And as for Heaven ‘being love,’ why not say ‘honeyIs wax?’ Heaven is not love, ’tis matrimony.”

Byron.

“When I again saw my cicerone, I communicated to him my surprise at seeing so few women frequenting theatres, concerts, and other places of amusement. To one lady seen at the theatre there are at least three or four gentlemen; whereas at church the relation is the reverse, proving theladies to be much more piously inclined than the men.

“Our women,” he said, “are too much confined at home, attending on their children; and yet this, and going to church, constitute their only pleasures in this world. Ours is yet a country in which preachers are better paid than actors and musicians; and a seat in a pew of one of our fashionable ‘meeting-houses’ is offered you with the same ceremonious politeness, as, in Italy, a box at the opera.”

“I have always heard that American women made the best mothers,” said I.

“As regards the maternal affections of our women,” replied he, “I can easily conceive why they should be strong. It is nearly all the romance (!) they enjoy; the duties they assume in marrying overbalancing infinitely the caresses and attentions bestowed upon them by their husbands. Our young men are an industrious, steady, persevering, but not an amiable race of beings. They have a high respect for ladies in general; but they are not devoted to them beyond the forms and usages of society. Money-making is the principal pursuit to which they are devoted; and which so completely absorbs their time, that, between business and politics, theyhardly find time for the cultivation of affections.

“And our rich people,” he continued, “are, in this respect, more to be pitied than the poor. The latter spend their few leisure hours, or ratherminutes, at home, in the circle of their families; while the former are compelled to waste them in society. And what society is that? It does not consist of a few friends whom accident assembles round the fireside, to pass away an evening in agreeable chit-chat. Our fashionable people are not fond of this cheap, unostentatious sort of amusement; and, besides, it does not suit the taste of our boys and girls, who are only satisfied with a dance. For this reason our parties are expensive, and afford little or no relaxation to men of sense. I once heard a diplomatist say, that a young man, in order to form his manners and judgment, ought to choose his female society from among ladies not under thirty, and his male companions from gentlemen not under forty years of age; but certainly, if manners and judgment are to be acquired only on such terms, our state of society is such that our young men must for ever remain deficient in them.

“If our married women were to be compensated for the loss they sustain in society byincreased attention from their husbands, they might perhaps profit by the exchange. But our business men have no time for cooing. Their first object is trade; everything else is surbordinate. There is a great deal of domestic comfort in the United States, resulting from sound principles of morality and religion, especially on the part of the women; but I have hardly ever seen that tender affection—that union of souls, in which two persons require nothing but each other’s consent for the completion of their happiness. That state, I am aware, requires either absolute poverty, or a degree of wealth and refinement which, from the vain attempt to satisfy the heart with the gratification of artificial wants, returns once more to the legitimate source of all human happiness. Both cases are as yet unknown in America; labour securing a competency to every industrious man, and the laws and institutions of the country preventing the accumulation of property.

“These circumstances make us a practical and active, but not an enthusiastic or imaginative people. We choose our fair companions according to the dictates of good sense, not after ‘some fanciful creation of the mind.’ Our country is not yet a land ofbeaux idéals.”

“On this account,” proceeded my travelledcicerone, “we are not subject to disappointment when the dreams of our youth are not realized; and the organization of society prevents us even from perceiving our error. Suppose one of our young men to marry a woman whose tastes, disposition, and character are essentially different from his own: it would not necessarily follow that the union must, on this account, prove an unhappy one. The points of contact are so few, the sphere of action of each party so well defined by custom and law, and the occupation of the man out of the house so constant, that he may become the father of a large family, and even die without finding out his mistake. This assertion seems to be absurd, and yet it is true to the very letter. And it is this sort of passiveness in all matters not relating to business or politics, which, though it may not constitute the most amiable or interesting feature of our character, is nevertheless the principal cause of the universal content which pervades our community.

“A similar match in Europe would be the source of endless misery. The comparative leisure enjoyed even by the labouring classes would prove a source of pain to two minds not perfectly tuned in unison. Nothing creates somany artificial wants,—nothing is, in itself, such exquisite luxury as leisure.[6]Our rich, industrious population may pity the poorlazzarone, who is badly fed, scarcely covered, and who has no other couch to lay his limbs upon but the marble steps of a palace or a church; and yet how many such vagabonds would be willing to exchange their position with that of our most opulent citizens? Such is the difference in men’s ideas of happiness.

“An European computes histime, or rather hisleisure moments, better than his money; in America the case is reversed. In Europe, wealth is comparatively within the reach of few; but every one has his little share of leisure, from the day-labourer who has his hour at noon and his vesper, to therentierwho lives in idleness. Under these circumstances, the choice of a companion determines a man’s happiness for life. Great and many are the calls on each other’s sympathy in pleasure and in affliction, and a single discord destroys the harmony for ever. A man may live with a woman of different tastes,—hemay eat and drink with her,—he may see her at specified hours of the day,—he may share his fortune or anything else with her without being unhappy; but who can describe the feelings of an enthusiast whose wife remains motionless at one of Shakspeare’s plays?—at the sight of the ocean or the Alps?

“These inequalities of taste and disposition become a true source of misery in proportion as we have leisure to give scope to our imagination. In active life, in the pursuits of agriculture, commerce, or manufactures, they are hardly noticed. What time, I would ask you, has one of our young men to be unhappy?—when in the morning he rises, to read the papers; then takes his breakfast, at which his fair partner presents him with her own white hands two cups of hyson or pekoe, with the trifling addition of a steak or a chop; then goes to his counting-room, where he remains until one; then passes the hour from one till two on ’change; then returns home to eat his beef and pudding, which he accomplishes in about ten minutes; then returns once more to his counting-room, where he remains till sunset; then comes home to swallow his two or three cups of tea; after which, if there be no politicalcaucas, no evening lecture, or late arrival of themail, he is heartily glad to go to rest, in order to gather strength for the work of the next day? What can it matter to him whether his wife be sentimental? whether she have imagination or taste? whether she be an admirer of the drama?

“‘What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba?’

“Ourfashionablemen,” continued he, with a sarcastic contraction of his lips, which was his usual substitute for a smile, “are less fortunate. They are not permitted to go to bed when they are tired.Societyhas claims upon them; they must contribute their share to the entertainment of the evening. Accordingly, they are obliged to wash and dress, put on kid gloves, and prepare, in every other respect, for the sacrifice, to which they are led by their wives like so many sheep to the slaughter-house. Being, as married people, excluded from dancing, and cards being abolished among us, they are obliged to amuse themselves with taking refreshments, which I believe they always do, until, towards ten, a regular supper rewards their patience; after which the majority of the company get into their hacks, swearing that it was a capital entertainment, at which there was plenty to eat, and a great profusion of choice and exquisite wines.

“As regards our women, they are, with the exception of the time consumed at meals, the whole day left to themselves; a circumstance which is not calculated to render their existence a happy one, unless they are blessed with children to break in upon its monotony, and afford fresh scope for their affections. Hence our women love their offspring passionately; while for their husbands they feel a sort of half-distant respect, wholly opposed to that tender familiarity without which it is impossible to penetrate into a woman’s heart.

“In this manner our men are cheated—or rather cheat themselves—out of the poetical part of matrimony; but are also saved from a vast deal of mortification. At any rate, our hard-featured, industrious Yankees, who are accustomed to act from principle, not from impulse,—from conviction, not from inclination,—have shown themselves worthy of living under free institutions, which seem to compensate them for the absence of those pleasures which a higher degree of refinement and an abundance of leisure secure to the higher classes of Europe; and the remark of a celebrated European statesman was, perhaps, a wise one, when he said ‘that a people is fit for liberal institutions in exactly the same proportionas its whole time is employed in satisfying its physical wants.’”

“But how is it possible,” demanded I, “that with all this political liberty, and the constant occupation of all classes of society, you should have become reduced to a degree of social bondage, of which no city in Europe, and scarcely one in Asia, furnishes an example? Remember, I have not yet forgotten the advice you gave me at the concert.”

“All this,” replied he, “is owing to the excessive prudence which pervades our higher society, and which, in reality, makes them believe that no European can fathom them. Our gentlemen are, indeed, not endowed with the faculty of second sight; but they have what they call ‘second thoughts,’ a sort ofarrière pensée, which it is not always easy to decipher, and is frequently the whole substitute for profundity or research. Thus they have always two motives for one and the same act,—a public and aprivateone; and, as many Europeans who come here to study our character are ingenuous enough to consider one motive quite sufficient for each act, it is an even chance they are mistaken, whether they have a view to our private or public motives. If you stay long enough among us, you will hear morality,politics, and even religion advocated from more than oneprudentmotive. High, exalted views, or enthusiasm for one or the other of these all-important subjects, you will, indeed, meet with occasionally; but, in general, we look upon all such sentiments as unhealthy, feverish, unbecoming a ‘calm,’ ‘sober,’ ‘calculating’ people. We delight in prose, though we frequentlytalkpoetry. Poetry with us is apublicconsideration, for which reason its place is usually the newspapers. It is food for the multitude; ourprivatemotives seldom rise beyond a clear view of our own immediate interests. In the inimitable language of one of our most fashionable young ladies, weadmireroast beef, anddoteon oyster pies.

“This is in some degree the origin of our cant in morality and religion, which our politicians, when there is no other absorbing topic, such as manufactures, commerce, fisheries, &c. employ for the purpose of ‘making a hit.’ In the absence of enthusiasm, which would inspire them with natural eloquence, they seek to maintain themselves at a certain elevation by pressing hard on lofty topics; having no wings, they endeavour to support themselves in the air by aparachute. Thus the words ‘virtue,’ ‘patriotism,’ ‘morality,’ ‘religion,’ ‘piety,’ are in every one’s mouth. Allthese terms had originally a distinct meaning attached to them, and to the mass of the people they are still full of import; but, being thus used on the most trifling occasion, they must sooner or later become degraded to mere figures of speech.

“The same holds of our republican manners. You will see many of our public characters wear the garb of humility in the presence of their meanest fellow-citizens; they carry their ownportemanteauxwhen landing from a steam-boat, shake hands with everybody on election day, and, likeHildebrand, assume, when walking or standing, an inclined posture; but let them once be elected, and you will see them draw themselves up to their full height, exclaiming ‘Ego sum papa!’ With all our democratic machinery, our Atlantic cities contain more lingering, pining, ‘aspirants to honourable distinction,’ than perhaps could be found in any equal number of men in Europe.

“Besides,” continued he, “our rich people, who, in the absence of a law of primogeniture, preserve their wealth by marrying cousins,[7]and our young merchants, who become rich by successful speculations, are somewhat tired of theirmonotonous state of existence. Many of them have been in Europe, where their property has enabled them, occasionally, to associate with the higher orders. They have witnessed the importance attached incivilizedcountries to rank and fortune, and are therefore, out of pure philanthropy, anxious to introduce the same high degree of civilization in America. ‘Do we not see the world prosper around us?’ asksMr.Daniel Webster, the great Massachusetts statesman and orator;[8]‘do we not seeOTHER GOVERNMENTS, andOTHER NATIONS, enlightened by experience, and rejectingARROGANT INNOVATIONSandTHEORETIC DREAMS, accomplishing the great ends of society?’

“Now is not this Conservatism with a vengeance! Would an English Tory have dared to make such an avowal before a British parliament? Where would England be, if her born or chosen legislators had looked round for precedents among other nations? What would have become of the United States, if the representatives of the people, in 1776, had held the same language? What better argument can be made in favour of absolute despotism in any country, than that ‘other nations,and other governments, rejectarrogant innovationsandtheoretic dreams? The decree of the Emperor of China against the introduction of Christianity is not more profound in its argument; and yetMr.Webster is, in this respect, nothing but a plagiary! Arrogant innovations were resisted in China long before the birth of the honourable senator for Massachusetts.

“Such doctrines as these will explain to you, at the same time, the views of our Whigs. Compare them to the principles of Toryism in England, and the conviction will irresistibly be forced upon you that the latter are a thousand times more liberal, and compatible with the freedom of the people. How many measures for the welfare of the English people have emanated from the nobility! But theseWhigs, who are just one or two steps removed from the masses, think themselves beset by dogs, and are continually kicking for fear of being bitten.

“These sentiments will not surprise any one who has heard ‘the most influential citizens’ assert that the republic has secured no great and signal benefit to the United States; that they were just as free, and certain classes even freer, under the British Government; that there can be nothing worse than the present mob-government,&c. These sentiments, I say, had ceased to astonish me; they only served to convince me of the necessity of trusting to institutions, not to men, the welfare of the state.”

In the present struggle for power, ambitious men may yet hope to arrive at honourable distinction through legitimate means—through the suffrages of the people; and hence the decision of every great question is still referred to the latter, although in a manner so distorted by cunning and sophistry that the people can scarcely see the true point at issue. For this reason the United States are, as yet, free from secret societies, private meetings and assemblies for political purposes, and leagues of powerful families for the furtherance of treasonable objects. Neither of the two parties, the would-be-aristocratic or the democratic, is as yet firmly established in power, or can hope to acquire and retain it for any length of time; but it is even this unsettled state which, by some, is taken for a surety of the continuance of the republican government.

Every institution, democratic, aristocratic, or monarchical, was originally good, and remained so as long as it answered the purpose for which it was first established. For this reason it is absurd to praise or censure, in the abstract, either of theseforms of society. The elements of each of them probably co-existed at all times, even under governments the most republican or despotic: all calamities which ever befel mankind arose from their misapplication, or from the disproportion between the progress of society (no matter in what direction) and the relative preponderance of one or the other of these three principles.

If any of the two great parties which divide the United States, as they do the rest of the world, should ever succeed in breaking up and destroying the other; if any one of them were to establish itself so firmly in power, as to make its political antagonists wholly despair of overthrowing it by constitutional means; then one of two great evils would necessarily ensue,—political indifference on the part of a great number of industrious and wealthy citizens; or a lawless opposition, not to the party in power, but to theinstitutionsunder which they hold it. Something of the kind—at least the former of the two cases—actually occurred during the latter part of the administration of General Jackson; at which time a large portion of wealthy, and formerly influential citizens, believing it in vain to make any farther resistance to the sway of democracy, entirely withdrew from politics, and frankly expressed, at home and abroad, inconversation and in public prints, their contempt for the government and institutions of America. Now that, by a series of changes which it is not here the place to explain, political influence and power seem to be once more within their reach, they begin again to take an active part in public affairs, recommencing their opposition to democracy with renewed vigour.

The government of the United States requires, more than any other, a strong opposition, in order to prevent a powerful faction from assuming a monarchical sway through one or more of its leaders. Democracies and aristocracies may eventually terminate in monarchies; their most critical moment being always that in which one of two great parties has gained some signal victory over the other. The power obtained by the conquerors is necessarily concentrated in the hands of a few political champions; who, being on such occasions, for a time at least, independent of public opinion, or having that opinion in their favour, may dictate law. Such a moment is fraught with dangers, even if the democratic party be the conqueror; the transition from democracy to monarchy being far more easy than that from aristocracy to the government of a single individual. The latter is, indeed, impossibleuntil the aristocracy is completely absorbed by the democratic element, and by degrees spoliated of its prerogatives.

For this reason a powerful aristocracy of family has always been the strongest bulwark against arbitrary power, and the preserver of liberty in the middle ages. But, in order that the aristocratic element shall fulfil its high destination, it must have anhistoricalbasis;—it must date from the origin of the country, and, like the aristocracy of England, have contributed to the foundation of the state. A mere mushroom aristocracy of money, taken yesterday from behind the counter, possesses none of these essential qualities; and is on that account neither capable of protecting the lower classes, nor of forming by itself a powerful political party. What a commercial aristocracy may do for the happiness of a people, even when reflecting on its historical grandeur, we have seen in the example of Venice, from the time the signory elected the chief magistrate, in 1173, to that in which she stooped

“—————————— to beA province for an empire, petty townIn lieu of capital, with slaves for senates,Beggars for nobles, panders for a people.”

The establishment of a purely democratic government—thatis, of one in which the democratic prevails over the aristocratic and monarchical principles,—is an historical problem which, under the most favourable circumstances ever combined, was intrusted to the American people. These circumstances will continue to act for centuries in their favour; and suppose the government finally to become modified, could such an event disprove the fact that, as long as the republicdidlast, the people were prosperous and happy, the nation respected abroad, and its domestic affairs managed with skill and integrity? Is it an argument against democratic institutions that they cannot last for ever? Might you not just as well despise youth and vigour, because they are doomed to old age and decrepitude? If it be true that all republics finally changed into aristocracies or monarchies, it ought to make the Americans only the more jealous of preserving the purity of their institutions, in order that, if an aristocracymustcome, it may not be one of mere wealthy stock-jobbers.

“Come,” said my cicerone, “let us take a walk over to Charlestown, ‘the mob quarter,’ as our enlightened citizens call that independent suburb of Boston. We shall have a fine view ofthe city and the harbour from Bunker’s Hill monument, the most classical object in this neighbourhood.”

“How far is it now completed?” demanded I. “I was told they did not go on with it from want of funds.”

“That monument,” replied he, “of which no one can tell when it will be finished, is a sad proof of the preference given by the Bostonians torealities, rather than to fictions of honour and glory. Our people are not fond of the poetry of history. They seem to have fought for liberty because it was a thing worth fighting for, without being fired with that enthusiasm for a great and noble cause with which we have seen millions of Europeans rush into battle as into a banquet-room.

“We Yankees are not like the heroes of antiquity; we are not ambitious, and do not even think it worth our while to leave traces of our virtues and achievements to posterity. We are not easily moved by historical recollections, and therefore think it a useless vanity to erect monuments for our children, in order to stimulate them to great and generous actions. This is a new illustration of our common sense. Being less exposed to invasions from a foreign enemy,and less dreading the aspirings of a powerful faction within, we do not see our institutions surrounded by those dangers, in the struggle against which love of liberty and of country become the absorbing passions of a people. Liberty, with us, constitutes a quiet possession, which we hope to retain rather by prudence and economy than by enthusiasm and courage.”

“I have heard a number of Bostonians,” observed I, “animadvert seriously against the celebration of the 4th of July, the anniversary of the declaration of independence; and especially against the reading of that instrument from the pulpit, because it contains expressions offensive to a power with which the Americans are now living in peace and amity.”

“We do not wish our children to imbibe that tender affection for liberty,” replied he, “which a lover cherishes for his mistress; we want them to be wedded to it in the good old Puritan fashion, without going through the tedium of a sentimental courtship. Our liberal institutions are, with us, a sort of household furniture intended for common use, well kept and guarded from injury, but no object of ardent attachment or devotion.”

The total absence of enthusiasm among thehigher classes of Americans, I found, indeed, one of the most remarkable features of their character. They consider the democratic institutions of their countryopposedto national grandeur; and feel, therefore, little inclined to commemorate events which could either flatter the vanity, or excite the emulation, of the lower classes. They seem to be of opinion that the people of the United States have full as much liberty as they can bear, and that a little more would unavoidably upset the whole. This will be considered as a gross slander on the patriotism of the aristocracy; but it is nevertheless a conclusion I have deliberately come to, after a long series of observation. Love of liberty and of country I found infinitely stronger among the labouring classes, who do not enjoy the advantage of finishing their education in Europe; absolute contempt, and sometimes hatred of the institutions of their country, among those who have had the means of spending several years abroad. What is the world to argue from it?

The monument at Bunker’s, or rather Breed’s Hill,—for the Americans mistook their position in the night, and fortified Breed’s Hill instead of Bunker’s Hill,—was intended, I believe, for a plain obelisk, which, if it were completed, wouldcommand a most superb view of the city and the harbour; as it now stands, it is nothing but a modern ruin,—a lasting reproach to the want ofnationalityof the Bostonians. Want ofpublic spiritit cannot be; because the Bostonians have given a thousand proofs of their readiness to make large pecuniary sacrifices in order to further the establishment of institutions calculated to benefit the community. The establishment of the Athenæum, principally through the munificence of a merchant; the Asylum for the Blind, towards whichMr.Perkins contributed alone ten thousand pounds sterling; the great liberality of all classes whenever an appeal is made to their charity; and lastly, the large sums paid annually for the support of common schools and public lectures, do not allow me to entertain the least doubt on the subject.

But, in the case of the monument at Bunker’s Hill, “the English feeling,” for which the higher classes of Boston were always distinguished, seems to have acted as a counterpoise; and to have, if not absolutely prevented its completion, at least withheld those sums which would have been readily contributed for another object. TheBoston ladies, who, it is said, have a good deal of public spirit, made an attempt to revive thenational pride of the gentlemen, but without effect; the outward respect paid by the Americans “to the sex” being essentially different from that species of gallantry which makes men delight in anticipating the wishes of women without being regularly pressed into the service. The “appeal of the ladies,” therefore, remained without effect, and a few of the forward ones barely escaped being ridiculed in the public prints. “This is a sad state of society,” say the disciples of Miss Martineau; “but all this will be changed when the ladies will vote, and hold public meetings for the propagation of patriotism.”

“If theEnglish feelingof our aristocracy,” observed my cicerone, “were to manifest itself only by the omission of expensive monuments, it would, perhaps, less expose us to the censure of our patriots, or the just ridicule of Europeans. But I have known gentlemen whose highest glory consisted in not being recognised as Americans while in England, and whose delight it was to pass on the Continentpour des Mylords Anglais. One of them, a youngster of not more than twenty-one years of age, was, on his stay in Paris, particularly afraid of being taken for an American savage. He spoke on all occasions ofEngland as his native country—(our fashionable young men, you know, talk of goinghometo England,)—and commenced and finished his sentences with ‘Nous autres en Angleterre,’ ‘nous autres à Londres,’ &c. In the travellers’ books he signed himselfMr.***; ‘Rentier de Londres;’ his clothes were made by a London tailor, his hat was English; and he even imitated the bad English accent when speaking French, though he could speak the language tolerably well when he wanted to shine before Americans.

“A year or two ago,” he continued, “I met, on the Rhine, with a still more extraordinary phenomenon. It was nearly in the middle of the month of August, when I went in a steamer from Mayence to Coblentz. There were a number of Englishmen on board, who, according to their custom, avoided as much as possible every kind of contact with the rest of the company. They were seated on one side of the boat, gazing on the moving panorama of the river; occasionally ejaculating ‘fine!’ ‘pretty!’ ‘very fine!’ ‘too much at once!’ At a little distance from them, towards the stern of the vessel, sat, ‘solitary and alone,’ as a celebrated senator has it, a gentleman in a macintosh, buttoned up to the chin, supporting his body, which was bent forward, by a huge cane,and keeping his eyes fixed on the ground in the deepest meditation.

“This Pythagorean attitude and silence, which were admirably becoming a thinking Englishman, excited the mirth of all the passengers, and especially of the Germans, who ironically remarked ‘that the English had a very philosophical way of travelling, always reasoning and reflecting when other people are satisfied with the mere looks of things.’

“After the lapse of I should think an hour, the supposed Englishman, whose back must have ached considerably, drew himself up to his full height, enabling me to recognise in him a young gentleman of my acquaintance, who had gone to Europe for his health, and was at the same time carefully improving his manners. ‘How long is it since you left ***?’ demanded I, rushing up to him in order to shake him by the hand. ‘Hush!’ whispered he; ‘I have been coming down all the way from Strasbourg with these Englishmen here, and none of them has recognised me as an American.’

“The fact is,” continued my cicerone, “our higher classes, in spite of their continual croaking, have no other standard to go by but the English. They pique themselves on dressing likethe English, talking like the English, thinking like the English, and behaving like the English, and on having English sentiments with regard to politics and religion. Some of ‘the aristocracy’ are even more orthodox than the English themselves; especially with regard to the Irish, who, since their emancipation, are much more unpopular with certain classes of Americans than O’Connell can possibly be in a British assembly of Tories.

“For the same reason have our aristocracy taken the House of Lords under their protection; ‘because the English nobility is such a glorious institution!’ ‘it contributes so much to the national splendour!’ and there are so many high families in Americaconnectedwith the first people in England! They probably think that, as long as aristocracy finds a stronghold in the old institutions of Britain, there remains at least a hope of introducing something similar to them in the United States; but they forget that, from the historical aristocracy of England, to the nameless money-dealers of America, there is a greater transition than from the substance to the shadow of a thing. Incorporated companies and banks are as yet the only armories that furnish weapons to the chivalrous knights composing the nobilityof the New World; and there is scarcely an American squire that would not be willing to sell horse and lance provided a proper price be offered him.

“Another generic feature which marks our wealthyparvenus, while, at the same time, it furnishes a curious index to the human heart, is the little sympathy felt or expressed with regard to the enterprising Western settlers, and the contemptuous language held by our ‘respectable editors’ when speaking of those unfortunate exiles from the refinement of ‘the Old States.’ Mrs. Trollope’s caricatures of the ‘half-horse and half-alligator race make the reader laugh; those drawn in our own papers are calculated to make onedespisethem. They use precisely the same language formerly employed by British writers with regard to the early settlers of the American colonies:—‘lawless adventurers,’ ‘fugitives from justice,’ ‘outcasts from society,’ ‘dregs of humanity,’ ‘candidates for the state’s prison or the gallows.’

“By these gentle appellations do the mushroom aristocracy of a few trading places stigmatise the steady, laborious, enterprising race of men that fertilize the Western wilderness, and create new markets for manufactures and commerce. Scarcely a couple of generations removedfrom the original settlers, they already play the old families, without having in their ephemeral existence doneonething deserving to be recorded in history; for we cannot disguise the fact, that all we have thus far accomplished, all that distinguishes our people from the idle and vicious population of Europe, all that has contributed to our boundless national prosperity, is owing to the virtue, enterprise, and perseverance of thelabouringclasses, and in no small proportion to those very ‘adventurers’ whom our Atlantic satraps affect to despise.

“Our higher classes,” added my cicerone, “seldom get angry at foreigners for abusing their government in the abstract; but let any one attempt to prove that there are no elements for a different administration to be found amongst them, and they will raise a hue and cry against the audacious slanderer. Tell them that they are ‘no republicans,’ and they will feel themselves flattered, though they may pout like some affected prude with whom a man takes some pleasing liberty. But attack theiraristocracy; say that it is a noisy, shapeless monster, with many tails and no head,—or, what is worse, say that you discovernoaristocracy in the country,—and you will set them raving.

“I remember a poor, little, innocent woman who nearly fainted at a duke’s telling her that he had understood there was nonoblessein America; but merely an educated (?) wealthybourgeoisie. Poor thing! she little expected such a mortification; and from such a quarter too! And yet she was a great stickler for human rights; just like some fashionable reformer, who can see no reason for the extraordinary prerogatives of the nobility, but is wide awake to the chasm which separateshimfrom the multitude.

“We may safely call ourselves the vainest people on earth,” concluded my cicerone, “and yet we dare not have an opinion which is not sanctioned abroad. We constantly refer each other’s manners, doctrines, and principles to those which are current in Europe; but, when an European ventures to imitate our example, we cannot contain our wrath at his impertinence. We do not object to the standard of comparison, but to the comparison itself; because we claim for ourselves the exclusive faculty of arriving at just conclusions. Our best society is but a sorry caricature of that of Europe, and yet we get angry when an European attempts to depict it. Our fate is indeed the most singular. No one can understand us; and yet we are constantlytalking about ourselves, and throwing out hints as to where observers may look for an explanation of our manners. The good people of England especially seem, in reference to us, to be in precisely the same predicament asDr.Johnson was with regard to the Scotch,—the more we talk, the less they know about us.”

FOOTNOTES:[6]Those of my readers who are disposed to doubt the possibility of such sentiments proceeding from an American, must be informed that my cicerone, being the son of a government envoy of high rank, was born and educated in Europe.[7]Against this practice,Dr.Spurzheim, the lecturer on phrenology, strongly remonstrated while in Boston, pointing to the pernicious consequences on the health and vigour of the rising generation.[8]Daniel Webster’s second speech on the Sub-treasury System proposed by the present administration.

[6]Those of my readers who are disposed to doubt the possibility of such sentiments proceeding from an American, must be informed that my cicerone, being the son of a government envoy of high rank, was born and educated in Europe.

[7]Against this practice,Dr.Spurzheim, the lecturer on phrenology, strongly remonstrated while in Boston, pointing to the pernicious consequences on the health and vigour of the rising generation.

[8]Daniel Webster’s second speech on the Sub-treasury System proposed by the present administration.

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