What, again, is to be thought of the freedom of citizens who are liable to lose caste because they follow conscience in a case where the perversity of the laws places interest on the side of conscience, and public opinion against it? I will explain. In a southern city, I saw a gentleman who appeared to have all the outward requisites for commanding respect. He was very wealthy, had been governor of the State, and was an eminent and peculiar benefactor to the city. I found he did not stand well. As some pains were taken to impress me with this, I inquired the cause. His character was declared to be generally good. I soon got at the particular exception, which I was anxious to do only because I saw that it was somehow of public concern. While this gentleman was governor, there was an insurrection of slaves. His own slaves were accused. He did not believe them guilty, and refused to hang them. This was imputed to anunwillingness to sacrifice his property. He was thus in a predicament which no one can be placed in, except where man is held as property. He must either hang his slaves, believing them innocent, and keep his character; or he must, by saving their lives, lose his own character. How the case stood with this gentleman, is fully known only to his own heart. His conduct claims the most candid construction. But, this being accorded as his due, what can be thought of the freedom of a republican thus circumstanced?
Passing over the perils, physical and moral, in which those are involved who live in a society where recklessness of life is treated with leniency, and physical courage stands high in the list of virtues and graces,—perils which abridge a man's liberty of action and of speech in a way which would be felt to be intolerable if the restraint were not adorned by the false name of Honour,—it is only necessary to look at the treatment of the abolitionists by the south, by both legislatures and individuals, to see that no practical understanding of liberty exists there.
Upon a mere vague report, or bare suspicion, persons travelling through the south have been arrested, imprisoned, and, in some cases, flogged or otherwise tortured, on pretence that such persons desired to cause insurrection among the slaves. More than one innocent person has been hanged; and the device of terrorism has been so practised as to deprive the total number of persons who avowedly hold a certain set of opinions, of their constitutional liberty of traversing the whole country. It was declared by some liberal-minded gentlemen of South Carolina, after the publication of Dr. Channing's work on Slavery, that if Dr. Channing were to enter South Carolina with a body-guard of 20,000 men, he could not come outalive. I have seen the lithographic prints, transmitted in letters to abolitionists, representing the individual to whom the letter was sent hanging on a gallows. I have seen the hand-bills, purporting to be issued by Committees of Vigilance, offering enormous rewards for the heads, or for the ears, of prominent abolitionists.
If it be said that these acts are attributable to the ignorant wrath of individuals only, it may be asked whence arose the Committees of Vigilance, which were last year sitting throughout the south and west, on the watch for any incautious person who might venture near them, with anti-slavery opinions in his mind? How came it that high official persons sat on these committees? How is it that some governors of southern States made formal application to governors of the northern States to procure the dispersion of anti-slavery societies, the repression of discussion, and the punishment of the promulgators of abolition opinions? How is it that the governor of South Carolina last year recommended the summary execution, without benefit of clergy, of all persons caught within the limits of the State, holding avowed anti-slavery opinions; and that every sentiment of the governor's was endorsed by a select committee of the legislature?
All this proceeds from an ignorance of the first principles of liberty. It cannot be from a mere hypocritical disregard of such principles; for proud men, who boast a peculiar love of liberty and aptitude for it, would not voluntarily make themselves so ridiculous as they appear by these outrageous proceedings. Such blustering is so hopeless, and, if not sincere, so purposeless, that no other supposition is left than that they have lost sight of the fundamental principles of both their federal and State constitutions, and do nowactually suppose that their own freedom lies in crushing all opposition to their own will. No pretence of evidence has been offered of any further offence against them than the expression of obnoxious opinions. There is no plea that any of their laws have been violated, except those recently enacted to annihilate freedom of speech and the press: laws which can in no case be binding upon persons out of the limits of the States for which these new laws are made.
The amended constitution of Virginia, of 1830, provides that the legislature shall not pass "any law abridging the freedom of speech or of the press." North and South Carolina and Georgia decree that the freedom of the press shall be preserved inviolate; the press being the grand bulwark of liberty. The constitution of Louisiana declares that "the free communication of thoughts and opinions is one of the invaluable rights of man; and every citizen may freely speak, write, and print, on any subject, being responsible for the abuse of that liberty." The Declaration of Rights of Mississippi declares that "no law shall ever be passed to curtail or restrain the liberty of speech, and of the press." The constitutions of all the slave States contain declarations and provisions like these. How fearfully have the descendants of those who framed them degenerated in their comprehension and practice of liberty, violating both the spirit and the letter of their original Bill of Rights! They are not yet fully aware of this. In the calmer times which are to come, they will perceive it, and look back with amazement upon the period of desperation, when not a voice was heard, even in the legislatures, to plead for human rights; when, for the sake of one doomed institution, they forgot what their fathers had done, fettered their own presses, tied their ownhands, robbed their fellow-citizens of their right of free travelling, and did all they could to deprive those same fellow-citizens of liberty and life, for the avowal and promulgation of opinions.
Meantime, it would be but decent to forbear all boasts of a superior knowledge and love of freedom.
Here I gladly break off my dark chapter on the Morals of Slavery.
One remarkable effect of democratic institutions is the excellence of the work turned out by those who live under them. In a country where the whole course is open to every one; where, in theory, everything may be obtained by merit, men have the strongest stimulus to exert their powers, and try what they can achieve. I found master-workmen, who employ operatives of various nations, very sensible of this. Elsewhere, no artisan can possibly rise higher than to a certain point of dexterity, and amount of wages. In America, an artisan may attain to be governor of the State; member of Congress; even President. Instead of this possibility having the effect of turning his head, and making him unfit for business, (as some suppose, who seem to consider these opportunities as resembling the chances of a lottery,) it attaches him to his business and his master, to sober habits, and to intellectual cultivation.
The only apparent excess to which it leads is ill-considered enterprise. This is an evil sometimes to the individual, but not to society. A man who makes haste to be famous or rich by means of new inventions, may injure his own fortune or credit, but is usually a benefactor to society, by furnishing a new idea on which another may work with more success. Some of the most important improvements in the manufactures of the United States have been made by men who afterwards became insolvent. Where there is hasty enterprise, there is usually much conceit. The very haste seems to show that the man is thinking more of himself than of the subject on which he is employed. It naturally happens that the conceited originator breaks down in the middle of his scheme; and that some more patient, modest thinker takes it up where he leaves off, and completes the invention. I was shown, at the Paterson mills, an invention completed by two men on the spot, whose discovery has been extensively adopted in England. A workman fancied he had discovered a method by which he could twist rovings, fastened at both ends, quicker than had ever been done before. As a more thoughtful person would have foreseen, half the twisting came undone, as soon as the ends were unfastened. The projector threw his work aside; but a quiet observer among his brother workmen offered him a partnership and a new idea, in return for the primary suggestion. The quiet man saw how quickly the thread might be prepared, if the rovings could be condensed fast enough for the twisting. He added his discovery to what the first had really achieved; and the success was complete.
The factories are found to afford a safe and useful employment for much energy which would otherwise be wasted and misdirected. I found thatin some places very bad morals had prevailed before the introduction of manufactures; while now the same society is eminently orderly. The great evil still is drunkenness: but of this there is less than there used to be; and other disorders have almost entirely disappeared. A steady employer has it in his power to do more for the morals of the society about him than the clergy themselves. The experiment has been tried, with entire success, of dismissing from the mills any who have been guilty of open vice. This is submitted to, because it is obviously reasonable that the sober workmen who remain should be protected from association with vicious persons who must be offensive or dangerous to them. If any employer has the firmness to dismiss unquestionable offenders, however valuable their services may be to him, he may confidently look for a cessation of such offences, and for a great purification of the society in which they have occurred.
The morals of the female factory population may be expected to be good when it is considered of what class it is composed. Many of the girls are in the factories because they have too much pride for domestic service. Girls who are too proud for domestic service as it is in America, can hardly be low enough for any gross immorality; or to need watching; or not to be trusted to avoid the contagion of evil example. To a stranger, their pride seems to take a mistaken direction, and they appear to deprive themselves of a respectable home and station, and many benefits, by their dislike of service: but this is altogether their own affair. They must choose for themselves their way of life. But the reasons of their choice indicate a state of mind superior to the grossest dangers of their position.
I saw a bill fixed up in the Waltham mill whichbore a warning that no young lady who attended dancing-school that winter should be employed: and that the corporation had given directions to the overseer to dismiss any one who should be found to dance at the school. I asked the meaning of this; and the overseer's answer was, "Why, we had some trouble last winter about the dancing-school. It must, of course, be held in the evening, as the young folks are in the mill all day. They are very young, many of them; and they forget the time, and everything but the amusement, and dance away till two or three in the morning. Then they are unfit for their work the next day; or, if they get properly through their work, it is at the expense of their health. So we have forbidden the dancing-school; but, to make up for it, I have promised them that, as soon as the great new room at the hotel is finished, we will have a dance once a-fortnight. We shall meet and break up early; and my wife and I will dance; and we will all dance together."
I was sorry to see one bad and very unnecessary arrangement, in all the manufacturing establishments. In England, the best friends of the poor are accustomed to think it the crowning hardship of their condition that solitude is wholly forbidden to them. It is impossible that any human being should pass his life as well as he might do who is never alone,—who is not frequently alone. This is a weighty truth which can never be explained away. The silence, freedom and collectedness of solitude are absolutely essential to the health of the mind; and no substitute for this repose (or change of activity) is possible. In the dwellings of the English poor, parents and children are crowded into one room, for want of space and of furniture. All wise parents above the rank of poor, make it a primary consideration so toarrange their families as that each member may, at some hour, have some place where he may enter in, and shut his door, and feel himself alone. If possible, the sleeping places are so ordered. In America, where space is of far less consequence, where the houses are large, where the factory girls can build churches, and buy libraries, and educate brothers for learned professions, these same girls have no private apartments, and sometimes sleep six or eight in a room, and even three in a bed. This is very bad. It shows a want of inclination for solitude; an absence of that need of it which every healthy mind must feel, in a greater or less degree.
Now are the days when these gregarious habits should be broken through. New houses are being daily built: more parents are bringing their children to the factories. If the practice be now adopted, by the corporations, or by the parents who preside over separate establishments, of partitioning off the large sleeping apartments into small ones which shall hold each one occupant, the expense of partitions and windows and trouble will not be worth a moment's consideration in comparison with the improvement in intelligence, morals, and manners, which will be found to result from such an arrangement. If the change be not soon made, the American factory population, with all its advantages of education and of pecuniary sufficiency, will be found, as its numbers increase, to have been irreparably injured by its subjection to a grievance which is considered the very heaviest to which poverty exposes artisans in old countries. Man's own silent thoughts are his best safeguard and highest privilege. Of the full advantage of this safeguard, of the full enjoyment of this privilege, the innocent and industrious youth of a new country ought, by no mismanagement, to be deprived.
It is said in the United States that Commerce and the Navy are patronised by the federal party; as agriculture is, and the army would be, if there was one, by the democratic party. This is true enough. The greater necessity for co-operation, and therefore for the partial sacrifice of independence, imposed by commercial pursuits, is more agreeable to the aristocratic portion of society than to its opposite. Yet, while commerce has been spreading and improving, federalism has dwindled away; and most remarkably where commerce is carried on in its utmost activity: in Massachusetts. The democracy are probably finding out that more is gained by the concentration of the popular will than is lost in the way of individual independence, by men being brought together for objects which require concession and mutual subordination. However this may be, the spirit of commerce in the United States is, on the whole, honourable to the people.
I shall have to speak hereafter of the regard to wealth, as the most important object in life, which extensively corrupts Americans as it does all other society. Here, I have to speak only of the spirit in which one method of procuring wealth is prosecuted.
The activity of the commercial spirit in America is represented abroad, and too often at home, as indicative of nothing but sordid love of gain: a making haste to be rich, a directly selfish desire of aggrandisement. This view of the case seems tome narrow and injurious. I believe that many desires, various energies, some nobler and some meaner, find in commerce a centre for their activity. I have studied with some care the minds and manners of a variety of merchants, and other persons engaged in commerce, and have certainly found a regard to money a more superficial and intermitting influence than various others.
The spirit of enterprise is very remarkable in the American merchants. Beginning life, as all Americans do, with the world all open before them, and only a head and a pair of hands wherewith to gain it, a passionate desire to overcome difficulties arises in them. Being, (as I have before declared my opinion,) the most imaginative people in the world, the whole world rises fair before them, and they, not believing in impossibilities, long to conquer it.
Then, there is the meaner love of distinction; meaner than the love of enterprise, but higher than the desire of gain. The distinction sought is not always that which attends on superior wealth only; but on world-wide intercourses, on extensive affairs, on hospitality to a large variety of foreigners.
Again; there is the love of Art. Weak, immature, ignorant, perhaps, as this taste at present is, it exists: and indications of it which merit all respect, are to be found in many abodes. There are other, though not perhaps such lofty ways of pursuing art, than by embodying conceptions in pictures, statues, operas, and buildings. The love of Beauty and of the ways of Humanity may indicate and gratify itself by other and simpler methods than those which the high artists of the old world have sanctified. If any one can witness the meeting of one kind of American merchant with his supercargo, after a long, distant voyage, hear the questioning and answering, and witness thedelight with which new curiosities are examined, and new theories of beauty and civilisation are put forth upon the impulse of the moment, and still doubt the existence of a love of art, still suppose the desire of gain the moving spring of that man's mind,—may Heaven preserve the community from being pronounced upon by such an observer! The critic with the stop-watch is magnanimous in comparison.
Again; there is the human eagerness after an object once adopted. In this case, it may be money, as in other cases it may be Queen Anne's farthings, the knockers of doors, ancient books, (for their editions and not their contents,) pet animals, autographs, or any other merely outward object whose charm lies in the pursuit. Several men of business, whose activity has made them very wealthy, have told me that, though they would not openly declare what would look like a boast, and would not be believed, the truth was that they should not care if they lost every dollar they had. They knew themselves well enough to perceive that the pleasure was in the pursuit, and not in the dollars: and I thought I knew some of them well enough to perceive that it would be rather a relief to have their money swept away, that they might again be as busy as ever in a mode which had become pleasant to them by habit and success. Of course, I am not speaking of such as of a very high and happy order; as to be for a moment compared with the few whose pursuits are of an unfailing but perpetually satisfying kind; with those whose recompense is incessant, but never fulfilled. I am only declaring that the eager pursuit of wealth does not necessarily indicate a love of wealth for its own sake.
What are the facts? What are the manifestations of the character of the American merchants?After their eager money-getting, how do they spend it? How much do they prize it?
Their benevolence is known throughout the world: not only that benevolence which founds and endows charities, and repairs to sufferers the mischief of accidents; but that which establishes schools of a higher order than common, and brings forward in life the most meritorious of those who are educated there; the benevolence which watches over the condition of seamen on the ocean, and their safety at home; the benevolence which busies itself, with much expense of dollars and trouble, to provide for the improved civilisation of the whole of society. If the most liberal institutions in the northern States were examined into, it would be found how active the merchant class has been, beyond all others, in their establishment.
Again: their eager money-getting is not for purposes of accumulation. Some—many, are deplorably ostentatious; but it seemed to me that the ostentation was an after-thought; though it might lead to renewed money-getting. Money was first gained. What was to be done with it? One might as well outshine one's neighbours, especially as this would be a fresh stimulus to get more still. This is bad; but it is not sordidness. Instances of accumulation are extremely rare. The miser is with them an antique, classical kind of personage, pictured forth as having on a high cap, a long gown, and sitting in a vaulted chamber, amidst money-chests. It would, I believe, be difficult there to find a pair of eyes that have looked upon a real living and breathing miser. My account of the doings of a miser whom I used wondering to watch in the days of my childhood never failed to excite amazement, very like incredulity, in those I was conversing with. The best proof that the money-getting of the eminently successful merchants of America is not formoney's sake, lies in the fact, that in New England, peopled by more than 2,000,000 of inhabitants, there are not more than 500, probably not more than 400 individuals, who can be called affluent men; possessing, that is, 100,000 dollars and upwards. A prosperous community, in which a sordid pursuit of wealth was common, would be in a very different state from this.
The bankruptcies in the United States are remarkably frequent and disgraceful,—disgraceful in their nature, though not sufficiently so in the eyes of society. A clergyman in a commercial city declares that almost every head of a family in his congregation has been a bankrupt since his settlement. In Philadelphia, from six to eight hundred persons annually take the benefit of the insolvent laws; and numerous compromises take place which are not heard of further than the parties concerned in them. On seeing the fine house of a man who was a bankrupt four years before, and who was then worth 100,000 dollars, I asked whether such cases were common, and was grieved to find they were. Some insolvents pay their old debts when they rise again; but the greater number do not. This laxity of morals is favoured by the circumstances of the community, which require the industry of all its members, and can employ the resources of all,—first, of men of character, and then of speculators. But, few things are more disgraceful to American society than the carelessness with which speculators are allowed to game with other people's funds, and, after ruining those who put trust in them, to lift up their heads in all places, just as if they had, during their whole lives, rendered unto all their dues. Whatever may be the causes or the palliations of speculation; whatever may be pleaded about currency mistakes, and the temptations to young men to make fortunes by the public lands,one thing is clear; that no man, who, having failed, and afterwards having the means to pay his debts in full, does not pay them, can be regarded as an honest man, and ought to be received upon the same footing with honest men, whatever may be his accomplishments, or his subsequent fortune. What would be thought of any society which should cherish an escaped (not reformed) thief, because a large legacy had enabled him to set up his carriage? Yet how much difference is there in the two cases? It is very rarely a duty,—more rarely than is generally supposed, to mark and shun the guilty. It is usually more right to seek and help him. But, in the case of a spreading vice, which is viewed with increasing levity, the reprobation of the honest portion of society ought to be very distinct and emphatic. Those who would not associate with escaped thieves should avoid prosperous bankrupts who are not thinking of paying their debts.
The gravest sin chargeable upon the merchants of the United States is their conduct on the abolition question. This charge is by no means general. There are instances of a manly declaration of opinion on the side of freedom, and also of a spirit of self-sacrifice in the cause, which can hardly be surpassed for nobleness. There are merchants who have thrown up their commerce with the south when there was reason to believe that its gains were wrung from the slave; and there are many who have freely poured out their money, and risked their reputation, in defence of the abolition cause, and of liberty of speech and the press. But the reproach of the persecution of the abolitionists, and of tampering with the fundamental liberties of the people, rests mainly with the merchants of the northern States.
It is worthy of remembrance that the Abolitionmovement originated from the sordid act of a merchant. While Garrison was at Baltimore, studying the Colonisation scheme, a ship belonging to a merchant of Newburyport, Massachusetts, arrived at Baltimore to take freight for New Orleans. There was some difficulty about the expected cargo. The captain was offered a freight of slaves, wrote to the merchant for leave, and received orders to carry these slaves to New Orleans. Garrison poured out, in a libel, (so called,) his indignation against this deed, committed by a man who, as a citizen of Massachusetts, thanks God every Thanksgiving Day that the soil of his State is untrod by the foot of a slave. Garrison was fined and imprisoned; and after his release, was warmly received in New York, where he lectured upon Abolition; from which time, the cause has gained strength so as to have now become unconquerable.
The spirit of this Newburyport merchant has dwelt in too many of the same vocation. The Faneuil Hall meeting was convened chiefly by merchants; and they have been conspicuous in all the mobs. They have kept the clergy dumb: they have overawed the colleges, given their cue to the newspapers, and shown a spirit of contempt and violence, equalling even that of the slave-holders, towards those who, in acting upon their honest convictions, have appeared likely to affect their sources of profit. At Cincinnati, they were chiefly merchants who met to destroy the right of discussion; and passed a resolution directly recommendatory of violence for this purpose. They were merchants who waited in deputation on the editor of the anti-slavery newspaper there, to intimidate him from the use of his constitutional liberty, and who made themselves by these acts answerable for the violences which followed. This was so clear, that they were actually taunted by their slave-holdingneighbours, on the other side of the river, with their sordidness in attempting to extinguish the liberties of the republic for the sake of their own pecuniary gains.
The day will come when their eyes will be cleansed from the gold-dust which blinds them. Meanwhile, as long as they continue active against the most precious rights of the community; as long as they may be fairly considered more guilty on this tremendous question of Human Wrongs than even the slave-holders of the south,—more guilty than any class whatever, except the clergy,—let them not boast of their liberality and their benevolence. Generosity loses half its grace when it does not co-exist with justice. Those can ill be esteemed benefactors to the community in one direction, who are unfaithful to their citizenship in another. Till such can be roused from their delusion, and can see their conduct as others see it, the esteem of the world must rest on those of their class who, to the graces of enterprise, liberality, and taste, add the higher merit of intrepid, self-sacrificing fidelity to the cause of Human Rights.
FOOTNOTES:[13]In testimony of the fact that the working people of this region are thinkers too, I subjoin a note written by the wife of a village mechanic, who is a fair specimen of her class."Sir,—Nothing but a consciousness of my own incompetency to form a just opinion on a question of such magnitude, and one too which involves consequences as remote from my personal observation, as the immediate, or gradual emancipation of the slaves, has, for some time, prevented my being an acknowledged abolitionist. With the Divine precepts before me, which require us to love our neighbour as ourselves, and 'whatsoever we would that others should do to us,' etc. etc., instructed and admonished too by the feelings of common humanity, I cannot hesitate to pronounce the system of slavery an outrageous violation of the requirements of God, and a lawless and cruel invasion of the rights of our fellow men. In this view of it, I am not able to understand how it can be persisted in, without setting at defiance the dictates of reason and conscience, and what is of more importance, the uncompromising authority of Scripture, the arguments of wise and talented men to the contrary, notwithstanding. The most superficial observer cannot fail to discern, in the universal interest and agitation, which prevail on this subject, a prelude to some mighty revolution. If this 'war of words' is theworstthat will precede or accompany it, I shall be happily disappointed. With these feelings, sir, you will readily believe the assurance, that I have been greatly interested, and instructed, in reading the mild, comprehensive, intelligent 'lecture,' of your lamented brother."[14]SeeAppendix C:an admirable sketch by a resident of Charleston, of the interior of a planter's family. It unconsciously bears out all that can be said of the educational evils of the existing state of society in the south.[15]I went with a lady in whose house I was staying to dine, one Sunday, on a neighbouring estate. Her husband happened not to be with us, as he had to ride in another direction. The carriage was ordered for eight in the evening. It drew up to the door at six; and the driver, a slave, said his master had sent him, and begged we would go home directly. We did so, and found my host very much surprised to see us home so early. The message was a fiction of the slave's, who wanted to get his horses put up, that he might enjoy his Sunday evening. His master and mistress laughed, and took no further notice.[16]The law declares that the children of slaves are to follow the fortunes of the mother. Hence the practice of planters selling and bequeathing their own children.[17]I knew of the death of four men by summary burning alive, within thirteen months of my residence in the United States.[18]No notice is taken of any occurrence, however remarkable, in which a person of colour, free or enslaved, has any share, for fear of the Acts which denounce death or imprisonment for life against those who shall write, print, publish, or distribute anything having a tendency to excite discontent or insubordination, &c.; or which doom to heavy fines those who shall use or issue language which may disturb "the security of masters with their slaves, or diminish that respect which is commanded to free people of colour for the whites."[19]Alabama Digest. In the same section occurs the following: "That no cruel or unusual punishment shall be inflicted on any slave within this territory. And any owner of slaves authorising or permitting the same, shall, on conviction thereof, before any court having cognizance, be fined according to the nature of the offence, and at the discretion of the court, in any sum not exceeding two hundred dollars."Two hundred dollars' fine for torturing a slave: and five hundred for teaching him to read!
[13]In testimony of the fact that the working people of this region are thinkers too, I subjoin a note written by the wife of a village mechanic, who is a fair specimen of her class."Sir,—Nothing but a consciousness of my own incompetency to form a just opinion on a question of such magnitude, and one too which involves consequences as remote from my personal observation, as the immediate, or gradual emancipation of the slaves, has, for some time, prevented my being an acknowledged abolitionist. With the Divine precepts before me, which require us to love our neighbour as ourselves, and 'whatsoever we would that others should do to us,' etc. etc., instructed and admonished too by the feelings of common humanity, I cannot hesitate to pronounce the system of slavery an outrageous violation of the requirements of God, and a lawless and cruel invasion of the rights of our fellow men. In this view of it, I am not able to understand how it can be persisted in, without setting at defiance the dictates of reason and conscience, and what is of more importance, the uncompromising authority of Scripture, the arguments of wise and talented men to the contrary, notwithstanding. The most superficial observer cannot fail to discern, in the universal interest and agitation, which prevail on this subject, a prelude to some mighty revolution. If this 'war of words' is theworstthat will precede or accompany it, I shall be happily disappointed. With these feelings, sir, you will readily believe the assurance, that I have been greatly interested, and instructed, in reading the mild, comprehensive, intelligent 'lecture,' of your lamented brother."
[13]In testimony of the fact that the working people of this region are thinkers too, I subjoin a note written by the wife of a village mechanic, who is a fair specimen of her class.
"Sir,—Nothing but a consciousness of my own incompetency to form a just opinion on a question of such magnitude, and one too which involves consequences as remote from my personal observation, as the immediate, or gradual emancipation of the slaves, has, for some time, prevented my being an acknowledged abolitionist. With the Divine precepts before me, which require us to love our neighbour as ourselves, and 'whatsoever we would that others should do to us,' etc. etc., instructed and admonished too by the feelings of common humanity, I cannot hesitate to pronounce the system of slavery an outrageous violation of the requirements of God, and a lawless and cruel invasion of the rights of our fellow men. In this view of it, I am not able to understand how it can be persisted in, without setting at defiance the dictates of reason and conscience, and what is of more importance, the uncompromising authority of Scripture, the arguments of wise and talented men to the contrary, notwithstanding. The most superficial observer cannot fail to discern, in the universal interest and agitation, which prevail on this subject, a prelude to some mighty revolution. If this 'war of words' is theworstthat will precede or accompany it, I shall be happily disappointed. With these feelings, sir, you will readily believe the assurance, that I have been greatly interested, and instructed, in reading the mild, comprehensive, intelligent 'lecture,' of your lamented brother."
[14]SeeAppendix C:an admirable sketch by a resident of Charleston, of the interior of a planter's family. It unconsciously bears out all that can be said of the educational evils of the existing state of society in the south.
[14]SeeAppendix C:an admirable sketch by a resident of Charleston, of the interior of a planter's family. It unconsciously bears out all that can be said of the educational evils of the existing state of society in the south.
[15]I went with a lady in whose house I was staying to dine, one Sunday, on a neighbouring estate. Her husband happened not to be with us, as he had to ride in another direction. The carriage was ordered for eight in the evening. It drew up to the door at six; and the driver, a slave, said his master had sent him, and begged we would go home directly. We did so, and found my host very much surprised to see us home so early. The message was a fiction of the slave's, who wanted to get his horses put up, that he might enjoy his Sunday evening. His master and mistress laughed, and took no further notice.
[15]I went with a lady in whose house I was staying to dine, one Sunday, on a neighbouring estate. Her husband happened not to be with us, as he had to ride in another direction. The carriage was ordered for eight in the evening. It drew up to the door at six; and the driver, a slave, said his master had sent him, and begged we would go home directly. We did so, and found my host very much surprised to see us home so early. The message was a fiction of the slave's, who wanted to get his horses put up, that he might enjoy his Sunday evening. His master and mistress laughed, and took no further notice.
[16]The law declares that the children of slaves are to follow the fortunes of the mother. Hence the practice of planters selling and bequeathing their own children.
[16]The law declares that the children of slaves are to follow the fortunes of the mother. Hence the practice of planters selling and bequeathing their own children.
[17]I knew of the death of four men by summary burning alive, within thirteen months of my residence in the United States.
[17]I knew of the death of four men by summary burning alive, within thirteen months of my residence in the United States.
[18]No notice is taken of any occurrence, however remarkable, in which a person of colour, free or enslaved, has any share, for fear of the Acts which denounce death or imprisonment for life against those who shall write, print, publish, or distribute anything having a tendency to excite discontent or insubordination, &c.; or which doom to heavy fines those who shall use or issue language which may disturb "the security of masters with their slaves, or diminish that respect which is commanded to free people of colour for the whites."
[18]No notice is taken of any occurrence, however remarkable, in which a person of colour, free or enslaved, has any share, for fear of the Acts which denounce death or imprisonment for life against those who shall write, print, publish, or distribute anything having a tendency to excite discontent or insubordination, &c.; or which doom to heavy fines those who shall use or issue language which may disturb "the security of masters with their slaves, or diminish that respect which is commanded to free people of colour for the whites."
[19]Alabama Digest. In the same section occurs the following: "That no cruel or unusual punishment shall be inflicted on any slave within this territory. And any owner of slaves authorising or permitting the same, shall, on conviction thereof, before any court having cognizance, be fined according to the nature of the offence, and at the discretion of the court, in any sum not exceeding two hundred dollars."Two hundred dollars' fine for torturing a slave: and five hundred for teaching him to read!
[19]Alabama Digest. In the same section occurs the following: "That no cruel or unusual punishment shall be inflicted on any slave within this territory. And any owner of slaves authorising or permitting the same, shall, on conviction thereof, before any court having cognizance, be fined according to the nature of the offence, and at the discretion of the court, in any sum not exceeding two hundred dollars."
Two hundred dollars' fine for torturing a slave: and five hundred for teaching him to read!
"This country, which has given to the world the example of physical liberty, owes to it that of moral emancipation also; for as yet it is but nominal with us. The inquisition of public opinion overwhelms, in practice, the freedom asserted by the laws in theory."Jefferson.
"This country, which has given to the world the example of physical liberty, owes to it that of moral emancipation also; for as yet it is but nominal with us. The inquisition of public opinion overwhelms, in practice, the freedom asserted by the laws in theory."
Jefferson.
The degree of civilisation of any people corresponds with the exaltation of the idea which is the most prevalent among that people. The prominent idea of savages is the necessity of providing for the supply of the commonest bodily wants. The first steps in civilisation, therefore, are somewhat refined methods of treating the body. When, by combination of labour and other exercises of ingenuity, the wants of the body are supplied with regularity and comparative ease, the love of pleasure, the love of idleness, succeeds. Then comes the desire of wealth; and next, the regard to opinion. Further than this no nation has yet attained. Individuals there have been, probably in every nation under heaven, who have lived for a higher idea than any of these; and insulated customs and partial legislation have, among all communities,shown a tendency towards something loftier than the prevalent morality. The majesty of higher ideas is besides so irresistible, that an involuntary homage, purely inefficacious, has been offered to them from of old by the leaders of society.
"Earth is sick,And Heaven is weary of the hollow wordsWhich States and Kingdoms utter when they talkOf truth and justice."
"Earth is sick,And Heaven is weary of the hollow wordsWhich States and Kingdoms utter when they talkOf truth and justice."
"Earth is sick,And Heaven is weary of the hollow wordsWhich States and Kingdoms utter when they talkOf truth and justice."
"Earth is sick,
And Heaven is weary of the hollow words
Which States and Kingdoms utter when they talk
Of truth and justice."
Though, as yet, "profession mocks performance," the profession, from age to age, of the same lofty something not yet attained, may be taken as a clear prophecy of ultimate performance. It shows a perception, however dim, a regard, however feeble, from which endeavour and attainment cannot but follow, in course of time. But the time is not yet. In the old world, the transition is, in its most enlightened parts, only beginning to be made, from the few governing the many avowedly for the good of the few, to governing the many professedly for the good of the many. The truth and justice under whose dominion every man would reverence all other men, would renounce himself for the sake of others, and feel it to be the highest destiny "not to be ministered unto, but to minister," are still "hollow words." The civilisation of the old world still corresponds with the low idea, that man lives in and for the outward, in and for what is around him rather than what is within him. It is still supposed, that whatever a few individuals say and do, the generality of men live for wealth, outward ease and dignity, and, at the highest, lofty reputation. The degree of civilisation corresponds with this. There is scarcely an institution or a custom which supposes anything higher. What educational arrangements there are, are new, and (however praiseworthy as being an actual advance) areso narrow and meagre as to show how unaccustomed is the effort to consider the man as nobler than the unit of society. The phrase is still the commonest of phrases in which parents, guardians, schoolmasters and statesmen embody their ambition for their wards—that any such ward "may become a useful and respectable member of society." The greater number of guardians would be terrified at the idea of their wards becoming anything else; anything higher than "useful and respectable members of society," while it is as clear as noon-day that room ought to be left,—that facilities ought to be afforded for every one becoming whatsoever his Maker has fitted him to be, so long as it appears that the noblest men by whom the earth has been graced, have been considered in their own time the very reverse of "useful and respectable members of society." The most godlike of the race have been esteemed "pestilent fellows" in their day and generation. No student of the ways of Providence will repine at this order of affairs, or expect that any arrangement of society can be made by which the convictions and sympathies of the less gifted should be enabled suddenly to overtake those of the more gifted. He will not desire to change the great and good laws by which the chosen of his race are "made perfect through sufferings," and by which the light of reason is ordained to brighten very gradually from dawn into day. He will only take note of the fact, that it is a low state of civilisation which presupposes specified and outward aims, and relies with such confidence on the mechanical means of attaining them as to be shocked, or anything but gratified, at the pursuit of singular objects by unusual methods. The observer will rightly judge such to be a low state of civilisation, whatever lamentations or exultations he may daily hear about the very high pointcivilisation has reached, when the schoolmaster is abroad, when people can travel at the rate of fifty miles an hour, and eminent cooks are paid 1,200l.a-year. While truth and justice remain "hollow words," so far as that men cannot live for them, to the detriment of their fortunes, without being called mischievous and disreputable members of society, no one can reasonably speak of the high civilisation of the country to which they belong.
The old world naturally looks with interest to the new, to see what point of civilisation it reaches under fresh circumstances. The interest may be undefined, and partly unconscious; but it is very eager. The many, who conceive of no other objects of general pursuit than the old ones of wealth, ease, and honour, look only to see under what forms these are pursued. The few, who lay the blame of the grovelling at home upon outward restrictions alone, look to America with extravagant expectations of a perfect reign of virtue and happiness, because the Americans live in outward freedom. What is the truth?
While the republics of North America are new, the ideas of the people are old. While these republics were colonies, they contained an old people, living under old institutions, in a new country. Now they are a mixed people, infant as a nation, with a constant accession of minds from old countries, living in a new country, under institutions newly combined out of old elements. It is a case so singular, that the old world may well have patience for some time, to see what will arise. The old world must have patience; for the Americans have no national character yet; nor can have, for a length of years. It matters not that they think they have: or it matters only so far as it shows to what they tend. Their veneration of Washington has led them to suppose that he is the type of theirnation. Their patriotic feelings are so far associated with him that they conclude the nation is growing up in his likeness. If any American were trusted by his countrymen to delineate what they call their national character, it would infallibly come out a perfect likeness of Washington. But there is a mistake here. There were influences prior to Washington, and there are circumstances which have survived him, that cause some images to lie deeper down in the hearts of Americans than Washington himself. His character is a grand and very prevalent idea among them: but there are others which take the precedence, from being more general still. Wealth and opinion were practically worshipped before Washington opened his eyes on the sun which was to light him to his deeds; and the worship of Opinion is, at this day, the established religion of the United States.
If the prevalent idea of society did not arise out of circumstances over which the mutations of outward events exercise but a small immediate influence, it is clear that, in this case, the idea should arise out of the characters of the benefactors who achieved the revolution, and must be consistent with the solemn words in which they conveyed their united Declaration. The principles of truth, and the rule of justice, according to which that Declaration was framed, and that revolutionary struggle undertaken and conducted, should, but for prior influences, have been the spirit inspiring the whole civilisation of the American people. There should then have been the utmost social as well as political freedom. The pursuit of wealth might then have been subordinated at pleasure: fear of injury, alike from opinion and from violence, should have been banished; and as noble facilities afforded for the progression of the inward, as for the enjoyment of the outward, man. But this wasnot given. Instead of it there was ordained a mingling of old and new influences, from which a somewhat new kind of civilisation has arisen.
The old-world estimation of wealth has remained among them, though, I believe and trust, somewhat diminished in strength. Though every man works for it in America, and not quite every man does so in England, it seems to me that it is not so absolutely the foreground object in all views of life, the one subject of care, speculation, inquiry, and supposition, that it is in England. It is in America clearly subordinate to another idea, still an idol, but of a higher order than the former. The worship of Opinion certainly takes precedence of that of wealth.
In a country where the will of the majority decides all political affairs, there is a temptation to belong to the majority, except where strong interests, or probabilities of the speedy supremacy of the minority, countervail. The minority, in such a case, must be possessed of a strong will, to be a minority. A strong will is dreaded by the weaker, who have so little faith as to believe that such a will endangers the political equality which is the fundamental principle of their institutions. This dread occasions persecution, or at least opprobrium: opprobrium becomes a real danger; and, like all dangers, is much more feared than it deserves, the longer it lasts, and the more it is dwelt upon. Thus, from a want of faith in the infallible operation of the principles of truth and the rule of justice, these last become "hollow words" in the States of the new, as in the kingdoms of the old world; and the infant nation, which was expected to begin a fresh and higher social life, is acting out in its civilisation an idea but little more exalted than those which have operated among nations far less favoured than herself in regard to political freedom.
"Talent and worth are the only eternal grounds of distinction. To these the Almighty has affixed his everlasting patent of nobility; and these it is which make the bright, 'the immortal names,' to which our children may aspire, as well as others. It will be our own fault if, in our own land, society as well as government is not organised upon a new foundation."Miss Sedgwick.
"Talent and worth are the only eternal grounds of distinction. To these the Almighty has affixed his everlasting patent of nobility; and these it is which make the bright, 'the immortal names,' to which our children may aspire, as well as others. It will be our own fault if, in our own land, society as well as government is not organised upon a new foundation."
Miss Sedgwick.
It is true that it is better to live for honour than for wealth: but how much better, depends upon the idea of honour. Where truth and justice are more than hollow words, the idea of honour is such as to exclude all fear, except of wrong-doing. Where the honour is to be derived from present human opinion, there must be fear, ever present, and perpetually exciting to or withholding from action. In such a case, as painful a bondage is incurred as in the pursuit of wealth. If riches take to themselves wings, and fly away, so does popularity. If rich freights are in danger afar off from storms, and harvests at home from blights, so is reputation, from differences of opinion, and varieties of views and tempers. If all that moralists have written, and wise men have testified, about the vanity and misery of depending on human applause be true, there can be no true freedom incommunities, any more than for individuals, who live to opinion. The time will come when the Americans also will testify to this, as a nation, as many individual members of their society have done already. The time will come when they will be astonished to discover how they mar their own privileges by allowing themselves less liberty of speech and action than is enjoyed by the inhabitants of countries whose political servitude the Americans justly compassionate and despise.
This regard to opinion shows itself under various forms in different parts of the country, and under dissimilar social arrangements. In the south, where the labour itself is capital, and labour cannot therefore be regarded with due respect, there is much vanity of retinue, much extravagance, from fear of the imputation of poverty which would follow upon retrenchment; and great recklessness of life, from fear of the imputation of cowardice which might follow upon forgiveness of injuries. Fear of imputation is here the panic, under which men relinquish their freedom of action and speech. In the north, society has been enabled, chiefly by the religious influence which has descended from the fathers, to surmount, in some degree, this low kind of fear, so far as it shows itself in recklessness of life: but not altogether. I was amazed to hear a gentleman of New England declare, while complaining of the insolence of the southern members of Congress to the northern, under shelter of the northern men not being duellists, that, if he went to Congress, he would give out that he would fight. I do not believe that he would actually have proved himself so far behind the society to which he belonged as to have adopted a bad practice which it had outgrown,—adopted it from that very fear of imputation which he despised in the south; but the impulse under which he spoke testified to thedanger of a fear of opinion taking any form, however low, when it exists under any other.
When I was at Philadelphia, a shocking incident happened in a family with which I was acquainted. The only son, a fine youth of nineteen, was insulted by a fellow-student. His father and uncle consulted what must be done; and actually sent the young man out to fight the person who had insulted him: the mother being aware of it, and praying that if either fell, it might be her son. She no doubt felt in her true heart, that it would be better to die than to murder another from the selfish fear of imputation. The first aggressor lost a finger; and there, it was said, the matter ended. But the matter has not ended yet, nor will end; for the young man has had a lesson of low selfishness, of moral cowardice impressed upon him by the guardians of his youth, with a force which he is not likely to surmount: and the society in which he lives has seen the strongest testimony to false principles borne by two of its most respected members.
Not by any means as a fair specimen of society, but as an example of what kind of honour may be enjoyed where the fear of imputation is at its height, I give the description, as it was given me by a resident, of what a man may do in an eminently duelling portion of the southern country. "A man may kill another, and be no worse. He may be shabby in his money transactions, but may not steal. He may game, but not keep a gaming-house." It will not do for the duellists of the south to drop in conversation, as they do, that good manners can exist only where vengeance is the penalty of bad. The fear of imputation and the dread of vengeance are at least as contemptible as bad manners; and unquestionably lower than the fear of opinion prevalent in the north.
In the north there can be little vanity of retinue, as retinue is not to be had: but there is, instead of it, much ostentation of wealth, in the commercial cities. It is here that the aristocracy form and collect; and, as has been before said, the aristocratic is universally the fearing, while the democratic is the hoping, party. The fear of opinion takes many forms. There is fear of vulgarity, fear of responsibility; and above all, fear of singularity. There is something more displeasing, at the first view, in the caution of the Yankees than in the recklessness of the cavalier race of the south. Till the individual exceptions come out from the mass; till the domestic frankness and generosity of the whole people are apparent, there is something little short of disgusting to the stranger who has been unused to witness such want of social confidence, in the caution which presents probably the strongest aspect of selfishness that he has ever seen.
The Americans of the northern States are, from education and habit, so accustomed to the caution of which I speak, as to be unaware of its extent and singularity. They think themselves injured by the remarks which strangers make upon it, and by the ridicule with which it is treated by their own countrymen who have travelled abroad. But the singularity is in themselves. They may travel over the world, and find no society but their own which will submit to the restraint of perpetual caution, and reference to the opinions of others. They may travel over the whole world, and find no country but their own where the very children beware of getting into scrapes, and talk of the effect of actions upon people's minds; where the youth of society determine in silence what opinions they shall bring forward, and what avow only in the family circle; where women write miserable letters, almost universally, because it is a settled matter that it is unsafe tocommit oneself on paper; and where elderly people seem to lack almost universally that faith in principles which inspires a free expression of them at any time, and under all circumstances.
"Mrs. B.," said a child of eleven to a friend of mine, "what church do you go to?"—"To Mr. ——'s." "O, Mrs. B. are you a Unitarian?"—"No." "Then why do you go to that church?"—"Because I can worship best there." "O, but Mrs. B., think of the example,—the example, Mrs. B.!"
When I had been in the country some time, I remarked to one who knew well the society in which he lived, that I had not seen a good lady's letter since I landed; though the conversation of some of the writers was of a very superior kind. The letters were uniformly poor and guarded in expression, confined to common-places, and overloaded with flattery. "There are," replied he, "no good letters written in America. The force of public opinion is so strong, and the danger of publicity so great, that men do not write what they think, for fear of getting into bad hands: and this acts again upon the women, and makes their style artificial." It is not quite true that there are no good letters written in America: among my own circle of correspondents there, there are ladies and gentlemen whose letters would stand a comparison with any for frankness, grace, and epistolary beauty of every kind. But I am not aware of any medium between this excellence and the boarding-school insignificance which characterises the rest.
When the stranger has recovered a little from the first disagreeable impression of all this caution, he naturally asks what there can be to render it worth while. To this question, I never could discover a satisfactory answer. What harm the "force of public opinion," or "publicity," can do to anyindividual; what injury "bad hands" can inflict upon a good man or woman, which can be compared with the evil of living in perpetual caution, I cannot imagine. If men and women cannot bear blame, they had better hew out a space for themselves in the forest, and live there, as the only safe place. If they are afraid of observation and comment, they should withdraw from society altogether: for the interest which human beings take in each other is so deep and universal, that observation and comment are unavoidable wherever there are eyes to see, and hearts and minds to yearn and speculate. An honest man will not naturally fear this investigation. If he is not sure of his opinions on any matter, he will say so, and endeavour to gain light. If he is sure, he will speak them, and be ready to avow the grounds of them, as occasion arises. That there should be some who think his opinions false and dangerous is not pleasant; but it is an evil too trifling to be mentioned in comparison with the bondage of concealment, and the torment of fear. This bondage, this torment is worse than the worst that the "force of public opinion" can inflict, even if such force should close the prospect of political advancement, of professional eminence, and of the best of social privileges. There are some members of society in America who have found persecution, excommunication, and violence, more endurable than the concealment of their convictions.
Few persons really doubt this when the plain case is set down before them. They agree to it in church on Sundays, and in conversation by the fireside: and the reason why they are so backward as they are to act upon it in the world, is that habit and education are too strong for them. They have worn their chains so long that they feel them less than might be supposed. I doubt whether they can even conceive of a state of society, of its ease andcomfort, where no man fears his neighbour, and it is no evil to be responsible for one's opinions: where men, knowing how undiscernible consequences are, and how harmless they must be to the upright, abide them without fear, and do not perplex themselves with calculating what is incalculable. Whenever the time shall come for the Americans to discover all this, to perceive how miserable a restraint they have imposed upon themselves by this servitude to opinion, they will see how it is that, while outwardly blessed beyond all parallel, they have been no happier than the rest of the world. I doubt whether, among the large "uneasy classes" of the Old World, there is so much heart-eating care, so much nervous anxiety, as among the dwellers in the towns of the northern States of America, from this cause alone. If I had to choose, I would rather endure the involuntary uneasiness of the Old World sufferers, than the self-imposed anxiety of those of the New: except that the self-imposed suffering may be shaken off at any moment. There are instances, few, but striking, of strong-minded persons who have discovered and are practising the true philosophy of ease; who have openly taken their stand upon principles, and are prepared for all consequences, meekly and cheerfully defying all possible inflictions of opinion. Though it does not enter into their calculations, such may possibly find that they are enjoying more, and suffering less from opinion, than those who most daintily court it.
There would be something amusing in observing the operation of this habit of caution, if it were not too serious a misfortune. When Dr. Channing's work on Slavery came out, the following conversation passed between a lady of Boston and myself. She began it with—
"Have you seen Dr. Channing's book?"
"Yes. Have you?"
"O no. Do not you think it very ill-timed?"
"No; I think it well-timed; as it did not come out sooner."
"But is it not wrong to increase the public excitement at such a time?"
"That depends upon the nature of the excitement. But this book seems to have a tranquillising effect: as the exhibition of true principles generally has."
"But Dr. Channing is not a practical man. He is only a retired student. He has no real interest in the matter."
"No worldly interest; and this, and his seclusion, enable him to see more clearly than others, in a case where principles enlighten men, and practice seems only to blind them."
"Well: I shall certainly read the book, as you like it so much."
"Pray don't, if that is your reason."
A reply to Dr. Channing's book soon appeared;—a pamphlet which savoured only of fear, dollars, and, consequently, insult. A gentleman of Boston, who had, on some important occasions, shown that he could exercise a high moral courage, made no mention of this reply for some time after it appeared. At length, on hearing another person speak of it as it deserved, he said, "Now people are so openly speaking of that reply, I have no objection to say what I think of it. I have held my tongue about it hitherto; but yesterday I heard —— speak of it as you do; and I no longer hesitate to declare that I think it an infamous production."
It may be said that such are remarkable cases. Be it so: they still testify to the habit of society, by the direction which the caution takes. Elsewhere, the parties might be quite as much afraid ofsomething else; but they would not dream of refraining from a good book, or holding their tongues about the badness of a vicious pamphlet, till supported by the opinions of others.
How strong a contrast to all this the domestic life of the Americans presents will appear when I come to speak of the spirit of intercourse. It is an individual, though prevalent, selfishness that I have now been lamenting.
The traveller should go into the west when he desires to see universal freedom of manners. The people of the west have a comfortable self-complacency, equally different from the arrogance of the south, and the timidity of the north. They seem to unite with this the hospitality which distinguishes the whole country: so that they are, on the whole, a very bewitching people. Their self-confidence probably arises from their being really remarkably energetic, and having testified this by the conquests over nature which their mere settlement in the west evinces. They are the freest people I saw in America: and accordingly one enjoys among them a delightful exemption from the sorrow and indignation which worldly caution always inspires; and from flattery. If the stranger finds himself flattered in the west, he may pretty safely conclude that the person he is talking with comes from New England. "We are apt to think," said a westerner to me, "that however great and good another person may be, we are just as great and good." Accordingly, intercourse goes on without any reference whatever to the merits of the respective parties. In the sunshine of complacency, their free thoughts ripen into free deeds, and the world gains largely. There are, naturally, instances of extreme conceit, here and there: but I do not hesitate to avow that, prevalent as mock-modesty and moral cowardice are in the present condition ofsociety, that degree of self-confidence which is commonly called conceit grows in favour with me perpetually. An over-estimate of self appears to me a far less hurtful and disagreeable mistake than the idolatry of opinion. It is a mistake which is sure to be rectified, sooner or later; and very often, it proves to be no mistake where small critics feel the most confident that they may safely ridicule it. The event decides this matter of self-estimate, beyond all question; and while the event remains undisclosed, it is easy and pleasant to give men credit for as much as they believe themselves to be capable of:—more easy and pleasant than to see men restricting their own powers by such calculation of consequences as implies an equal want of faith in others and in themselves. If John Milton were now here to avow his hope that he should produce that which "the world would not willingly let die," what a shout there would be of "the conceited fellow!" while, the declaration having been made venerable by the event, it is now cited as an instance of the noble self-confidence of genius.
The people of the west have a right to so much self-confidence as arises from an ascertainment of what they can actually achieve. They come from afar, with some qualities which have force enough to guide them into a new region. They subdue this region to their own purposes; and, if they do often forget that the world elsewhere is progressing; if they do suppose themselves as relatively great in present society as they were formerly in the wilderness, it should be remembered, on their behalf, that they have effectually asserted their manhood in the conquest of circumstances.
If we are not yet to see, except in individual instances, the exquisite union of fearlessness with modesty, of self-confidence with meekness;—if there must be either the love of being grand inone's own eyes, or the fear of being little in other people's,—the friends of the Americans would wish that their error should be that which is allied to too much, rather than too little freedom.
As for the anxiety about foreign opinions of America, I found it less striking than I expected. In the south, there is the keenest sensibility to the opinion of the world about slavery; and in New England, the veneration for England is greater than I think any one people ought to feel for any other. The love of the mother country, the filial pride in her ancient sages, are natural and honourable: and so, perhaps, is a somewhat exalted degree of deference for the existing dwellers upon the soil of that mother country, and on the spot where those sages lived and thought and spoke. But, as long as no civilised nation is, or can be ascertained to be, far superior or inferior to any other; as the human heart and human life are generally alike and equal, on this side barbarism, the excessive reverence with which England is regarded by the Americans seems to imply a deficiency of self-respect. This is an immeasurably higher and more healthy state of feeling than that which has been exhibited by a small portion of the English towards the Americans;—the contempt which, again, a sprinkling of Americans have striven to reciprocate. But the despisers in each nation, though so noisy as to produce some effect, are so few as to need no more than a passing allusion. If any English person can really see and know the Americans on their own ground, and fail to honour them as a nation, and love them as personal friends, he is no fair sample of the people whose name he bears; and is probably incapable of unperverted reverence: and if any American, having really seen and known the English on their own ground, does not reverence his own home exactly in proportionas he loves what is best in the English, he is unworthy of his home.
When I was on my voyage out, the Americans on board amused themselves with describing to me how incessantly I should be met by the question how I liked America. When we arrived within a few miles of New York, a steam-boat met us, bringing the friends of some of the passengers. On board this steam-boat, the passengers went up to the city. It happened to be the smallest, dirtiest, and most clumsy steamer belonging to the port. A splashing rain drove us down into the cabin, where there was barely standing room for our company. We saw each other's faces by the dim light of a single shabby lamp. "Now, Miss M." said some of the American passengers, "how do you like America?" This was the first time of my being asked the question which I have had to answer almost daily since. Yet I do not believe that many of my interrogators seriously cared any more for my answer than those who first put the question in the dirty cabin; or than my little friend Charley, who soon caught the joke, and with grave face, asked me, every now and then, "How do you like this country?" I learned to regard it as a method of beginning conversation, like our meteorological observations in England; which are equally amusing to foreigners. My own impression is, that while the Americans have too exalted a notion of England, and too little self-respect as a nation, they are far less anxious about foreign opinions of themselves than the behaviour of American travellers in England would lead the English to suppose. The anxiety arises on English ground. At home, the generality of Americans seem to see clearly enough that it is yet truer with regard to nations than individuals that, though it is very pleasant to have the favourable opinion of one'sneighbours, yet, if one is good and happy within oneself, the rest does not much matter. I met with a few who spoke with a disgusting affectation of candour, (some, as if they expected to please me thereby, and others under the influence of sectional prejudice,) of what they called the fairness of the gross slanders with which they have been insulted through the English press: but I was thankful to meet with more who did not acknowledge the jurisdiction of observers disqualified by prejudice, or by something worse, for passing judgment on a nation. The irritability of their vanity has been much exaggerated, partly to serve paltry purposes of authorship; and yet more from the ridiculous exhibitions of some Americans in England, who are no more to be taken as specimens of the nation to which they belong than a young Englishman who, when I was at New York, went up the Hudson in a drizzling rain, pronounced that West Point was not so pretty as Richmond; descended the river in the dark, and declared on his return that the Americans were wonderfully proud of scenery that was nothing particular in any way.
It will be well for the Americans, particularly those of the east and south, when their idea of honour becomes as exalted as that which inspired their revolutionary ancestors. Whenever they possess themselves of the idea of their democracy, as it was possessed by their statesmen of 1801, they will moderate their homage of human opinion, and enhance their worship of humanity. Not till then will they live up to their institutions, and enjoy that internal freedom and peace to which the external are but a part of the means. In such improvement, they will be much assisted by the increasing intercourse between Britain and America; for, however fascinating to Americans may be theluxury, conversational freedom, and high intellectual cultivation of some portions of English society, they cannot fail to be disgusted with the aristocratic insolence which is the vice of the whole. The puerile and barbaric spirit of contempt is scarcely known in America: the English insolence of class to class, of individuals towards each other, is not even conceived of, except in the one highly disgraceful instance of the treatment of the people of colour. Nothing in American civilisation struck me so forcibly and so pleasurably as the invariable respect paid to man, as man. Nothing since my return to England has given me so much pain as the contrast there. Perhaps no Englishman can become fully aware, without going to America, of the atmosphere of insolence in which he dwells; of the taint of contempt which infects all the intercourses of his world. He cannot imagine how all that he can say that is truest and best about the treatment of people of colour in America is neutralised on the spot, by its being understood how the same contempt is spread over the whole of society here, which is there concentrated upon the blacks.