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L.ETTE2RS 
 
 A GENTLEMAN IN GERMANY, 
 
 WRITTEN AFTER 
 
 A TRIP FROM PHILADELPHIA TO NIAGARA. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 FRANCIS L.1EBER. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 CAREY. LEA & BLANCHARD. 
 
 1834. 
 
 h ■- ■- '- 
 

 Entehkp, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1834, by CareTi 
 Lka & liiANCHATiD, in tile District Court for tlie Eastern District of Penn- 
 sylvania. 
 
 fiKlGfJS & CO., PHINTEUS. 
 
3 0^ 
 
 / A 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING, ESQ. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 In dedicating the following pages to you, I know that I 
 have but acted in accordance with the view of the author, which 
 in this case entirely coincides with my own. Whether, in doino- 
 so, we meet your wishes is another question: but it seemed so 
 formal, to ask your permission to dedicate so trifling a work to 
 you, and this previous permission appears so decidedly to coun- 
 teract the intended courtesy of a dedication, that I preferred to 
 grace this volume with your name without your consent obtained 
 beforehand. However you may differ from some opinions stated 
 in the work, I beg you to accept its dedication to you, as a token 
 of admiration, which the author and his editor feel for the pro- 
 ductions with which you have enriched the literature of two great 
 nations. The token, I am aware, is very disproportionate to the 
 meaning it is intended to convey, but may not even indistinct 
 characters express a glowing sentence? 
 I am, with great regard. 
 Sir, 
 
 Your most obedient servant, 
 
 Francis Lieber. 
 Philadelphia, Nov. 1834. 
 
LrETTERS, &c. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 So you wish me, my deaf- friend, to write a whole " se- 
 ries of letters." Why, you seem to have studied with the 
 Franciscans, with whom " begging boldly " is constitution- 
 al. " Vadatis pro eleemosyna confidenier^^* says their 
 founder and saint in the constitution of the order. And 
 on what shall I write? On the United States? You give 
 me a subject as vast as their territory, and surely you do not 
 wish a series of letters running through six volumes as big 
 and heavy as a novel ofold ! Besides a book of that size 
 would be quite out of season. Nowadays every thing, 
 even commentaries on a code, must be twelve-moed out to 
 the public. Nay, this diminutive size is too troublesome for 
 many, may I say for most, people? They require their in- 
 tellectual dishes to be chopped and minced into a newspa- 
 per pie. " Sir," said an old and thoroughly experienced 
 editor lately to me, " an article, calculated for being read, 
 ought never to exceed haif a column," and he knows the pa- 
 late of the public as well as any man in the meat or fruit 
 market. Were I to write a history of modern civiliza- 
 tion, I should follow the most philosophical rule, by making 
 
 * " Go and beg boldly." — Editoh, 
 
( 10 ) 
 
 my division into periods according to striking manifesta- 
 tions of powerful and characteristic principles. I would 
 call one of the great divisions the period of folios; the time 
 when controversialists knew of no more poisonous arrow to 
 bury in the heart of their opponent, than to remind him that 
 he had written but a quarto! See D'Israeli's Curiosities, 
 where he speaks of Nominalists. This huge folio age might 
 go down to Cartesius or thereabouts.* Whatever was the 
 subject, folio was the requisite form. Next is the epoch of 
 quartos and the dawn ofnewspapers — small and single leaves, 
 half of the first page occupied by a quaint title in letters 
 phantastically ornamented. The discovery of a new world 
 and the news of all the wonders successively appearing to 
 the European there, were given to astounded mankind in 
 little diminutive sheets, true " flying leaves,"t not so large 
 as now the smallest handbill which informs you of a poc- 
 ket having been picked or a colt having leaped the fence. 
 Next, comes the period of octavos; newspapers grow ra- 
 pidly, so does the quantity of books. It is succeeded by the 
 age of twelve-mos (as the booksellers classically call duodeci- 
 
 • Though our author seems to take the whole in joke, there is much 
 scope for reflection in his remark; and not only is the size of books charac- 
 teristic of an age, but also, and, perhaps in a still greater degree, their 
 price. But a few centuries ago, a breviary would be left to one heir as an 
 equivalent for all the other personal property, even of considerable value, 
 bequeathed to another. At present, we have Penny Magazines, Cyclopse- 
 dias, Gazetteers, &c., accessible by the meanest. Knowledge, whilst soaring, 
 on the one haixl, to the highest regions, and expanding with increasing vi- 
 gor in all dh-ections, has, on tlie other hand, followed the general tendency 
 o^ our age, th&t o? popularization, while, at first, it greatly co-operated in 
 bringing it about. It is of no use to speak of •' penny literature " with the 
 sneer of learned aristocracy. The cheap catechisms which contain the sim- 
 plest and most important principles of Christianity, belong to the " pen- 
 ny literature;" and complaints, too, were raised in early times against the 
 Christian religion, on account of its having no mystery for an initiated few. — 
 Editor. <■ 
 
 + The bookbinders call fly-leaves the blank-leaves between the printed 
 pages of a book and its cover. — Euitob. 
 
 • 
 
( 11 ) 
 
 mos;) newspapers expand with the quickness of a new-born 
 butterfly, and stretch from the tree of knowledge like far- 
 reaching palm-leaves, to overshadow civilization, which 
 grows beneath; and, at length, we arrive at our own time; 
 books have shrunk to 24mos, (yes, my friend, encyclopae- 
 dias have been issued in 48mos,) and newspapers have 
 grown so large that Dido would have made a better bargain 
 than she did, had she asked for her colony as much land as 
 can be covered by a London Extra Times, or a handbill of 
 an American menagerie. I have lately seen one of eleven 
 feet by nine and a half, and well executed, too.* A Ger- 
 man philosopher might develop some profound reasonings 
 on this peculiar diminution on the one side and growth on 
 the other. There must be some mysterious pi-inciple in 
 this tendency to the inverse ratio. Formerly, knowledge 
 was hidden in deep and inaccessible wells, or it ran in con- 
 tracted but deep channels; now literature often flows, lilce 
 shallow water, over a whole country, sometimes irrigating, 
 sometimes inundating, sometimes choking the germs of no- 
 ble plants by the steril sand which it deposites. In olden 
 times, folios and quartos were often written on the most tri- 
 fling things; now loquacious editors tell us of a big pump- 
 kin, a large turnip, a monstrous cabbage, or of an excellent 
 hat in that store, and good confectionary in another, (which 
 smacks of tasting it.) Of kings and princes other people 
 tell us of their every step, and of every breath they draw. 
 The emperor of China manages this matter the best; he 
 has his biographer close at his heels, who notes down every 
 trifle of his majesty's life. Editors do all this for themselves, 
 they are their own historiographers; make us participate in 
 all their personal difficulties and quarrels, or tell us that, 
 they went a few days ago to such a place and found the 
 dinner abundant, &c. 
 
 Ecco a fair specimen of what you have to expect in let- 
 
 * This must have reference to the enormous handbills (whose size is per- 
 fectly incompatible with their name) of June, Titus, Angevine, & Co., near 
 ly as large as the elephant they advertise. — Editok. 
 
( 12 ) 
 
 ters of mine — ^excursions to the right and left, adhering to 
 the subject like a member of congress. I am in ordinary- 
 accustomed to such dead ahead scribbling, that in my letters 
 I must be permitted to tack about after the manner of Com- 
 modore Trunnion, and to get at my point as besiegers do — 
 in a zigzag. Do you agree to this? I lay down my pen; 
 draw up your spectacles, and weigh the matter well. It 
 must be a treaty as solemn as theyjw/a; d^aiiberge* between 
 Yorick and the Piedmontese lady, clearly defined, well un- 
 derstood, and strictly observed. You say, yes? you will 
 not grumble and scold if I sometimes leap about like a cha- 
 mois in its mountains; or would the comparison with the 
 noisy grasshopper be more in keeping? You say yes? Very 
 well, then I return to my first subject: on what shall I 
 write? It is easy to take a passage in Liverpool for New- 
 York, to enjoy the aromatic rolls at breakfast, to go about 
 and philosophize on every handbill, generalize every straw, 
 explain every push you may get in a bustling street by the 
 elementary principles of the government under which the 
 society around you lives; to deliver letters of recommenda- 
 tion and see how they operate, to talk about jolting stages 
 and chewing passengers, to meditate on a baby and a hog, 
 to deplore the want of wigs on the bench,t or pronounce a 
 
 • The autlior probably calls this peace after the Treaty of the Bridge be- 
 tween Castile and Arragon by the mediation of France, because concluded 
 on the bridge of the Bidassoa. — Editor. 
 
 -j- We think the author must here have In his eye Captain Basil Hall, who, 
 in his Travels in North America, raises a lament for the United States be- 
 cause the judges of this country have cast off their wigs. Eveiy one to his 
 taste! But what must have been the captain's feelings when the papers of 
 his countiT informed him that the whig chancellor appeared in the house of 
 lords with a wig of considerably smaller size, and horribile diciu — when he 
 read that the Bishop of Carlisle appeared in his place in the house of lords 
 without a wig, and magis horribile diciu — when he found after a short time 
 that the Bishop of Oxford had followed the example of his right reverend 
 brother of Carlisle? Thou too, Brutus! Orthodox Oxford! 
 
 Before we had become acquainted with Captain Hall's Travels, we read in 
 the biography of Jovellanos, that he was the first Spanish judge who at- 
 tempted to appear without a wig, and that it required the whole support of the 
 
( 13 ) 
 
 wise opinion on the number of copies of the fathers of the 
 church in the United States, or sweepingly to declare all 
 New England to be inhabited by wretches prostrated before 
 Mammon, their only god; it is easy (I now speak of the 
 
 premier, Count "Aranda, to carry this innovation. We smiled, we laughed at 
 the strong- predilections of mankind, at the tenacity with which we cling to 
 errors, follies, evils, sins, hugging them as our dearest blessings, but now we 
 are better infoi-med, we believe Jovellanos a demagogue, and his opponents 
 sound politicians. They, with Hall and all who believe the British empire 
 would crumble to pieces the very moment when no wig should be seen on the 
 woolsack, have, undoubtedly, studied Lichtenberg's Physiognomy of Cues, in 
 which that distinguished writer not only proves the great importance of cues 
 to the general welfore of mankind, but also shows how closely connected 
 their form, twist and bend, ai-e with the dispositions, views, and desires of 
 tlie wearer. The work is embellished with engravings representing the 
 most important cues; it was written at the time, when, with innovations of 
 all kinds, the cuttiAg off of cues, spread from France eastward. A con- 
 tinuation of this instructive work ought speedily to be written, and who 
 would do it better than the author of the above mentioned travels? To say 
 the truth, we have stopped sometimes at the windows of the hairdressers 
 near the learned inns in London, and silently meditated on the variety, beau- 
 ty, utility, and superior importance of tlie wigs in la haute politique. There 
 was the short and closely trimmed covering of a. counsellor's vertex, the 
 weightier one to cover the weightier head of the judge; the flapping peri- 
 wig of the chancellor, like a lion's mane, and, — what is not surpassed in 
 venerable beauty, — a bishop's wig! Shall all this splendor pass away? 
 Shall nothing remain with us but naked prose? Shall life be stripped of 
 all its characteristic ornaments, on which the poet may seize, by taking 
 the sign for the thing? Shall we be obliged to see all heads in hideous 
 democratic nudity ? Shall the portrait of a Turenne soon stand before us 
 as a beauty unattainable, yet admired, an Apollo of times gone by ? Did 
 not Frederic the Great conquer with the long spiral cues of his grena- 
 diers? Has Napoleon not won his victories with the short stout cues of 
 his guards? Has Eugene not won his battles with flowing locks, slightly 
 tied together? Did Marlborough expect assistance from Mars, with a head 
 shorn like a sheep in June? If the Romans have conquered the world 
 trimmed like blackguards, what is it to us; they were heathens, and we are 
 Christians. If Magna Charta was extorted by unpowdered heads, it is by 
 well-wigged ones that it was expounded, developed, and applied. Can you 
 imagine Blackstone or Mansfield looking differently than a weasel peeping 
 out of a haystack ? It is blasphemy to imagine them for a moment clipped 
 and stripped of their exalted costume! Honor for ever to the wig! — 
 Editor. 
 
( 14 ) 
 
 most refined and exalted traveller that ever visited this 
 country, a reverend gentleman,) to crowd a book with 
 statements, which, to name them by their only befitting 
 name, would require three little letters not very frequently 
 used among gentlemen, though of great import; or to tell 
 us of foreigners in this country placed by the Yankees as 
 outposts before their private fortresses, in order to examine 
 visiters before they are allowed to approach the autochthones 
 themselves, (pooh! what an ass a man must be to use such 
 a simile, which has no sense, to imagine the possibility of 
 such an absurdity, or to believe others so brainless as to 
 give credit to this clumsy story;) it is very easy to make a 
 trip of six weeks through the country and yet write a quarto 
 volume, like the clever author who described a journey 
 round his table, but to speak sensibly of a people and their 
 institutions, to let the " guessing" and the chewing for a 
 moment rest, and occupy ourselves with matters of sub- 
 stantial value, to treat them merely with becoming attention 
 and not in a flimsy flippant way, calculated to catch the 
 many, not to gain the thinking, is, I say by no means im- 
 possible, yet not very easy. It requires thinking, patience, 
 a manly calmness, and some pains — requisites not as often 
 met with as the extraordinary faculty enjoyed by some, 
 who can throw off a book as readily as the deer throws 
 off" yearly its antlers. Such travellers resemble inexperi- 
 enced youths, to whom every thing is new, every thing 
 important; to whom every thing affords the delightful 
 pleasure of proving to themselves and the world their great 
 sagacity by connecting every trifle with deep, hidden mo- 
 tives, first discovered by their own sharp-sightedness. They 
 have not that experience which leads us to look at the essence 
 of things, and to expect less variety in the ground-plan and 
 springs of human affairs than their superficial appearance 
 would induce the staring novelty-hunter to expect. 
 
 Two kinds of silly travellers (I do not speak, you will ob- 
 serve, of all the travellers who have written on this country; 
 very excellent men indeed have been amongst them) are, 
 
( 15 ) 
 
 from time to time, thrown on our shore, almost periodically 
 like the eruptions of the Geysers on Iceland. The one 
 class arrives here with a ready made opinion against the 
 country they have yet to see, and a very high one in favor 
 of themselves. They have not formed their opinion after 
 a careful examination of all the necessary data, but, because 
 this opinion suits them, or, because they start from a pre- 
 conceived idea, vulgarly called prejudice. Whatever they 
 are or may have been, students of mankind or not, whether 
 they have read or seen much or little, as soon as they set 
 foot on this shore, they are suddenly initiated into all 
 branches of human industry and knowledge, know the prin- 
 ciples of all occupations, and are judges of all sciences, all 
 arts, and all institutions. But one art which they have never 
 endeavored to learn and practise is to take things as they 
 are. A gentleman has been an officer in the army and has 
 written a novel — two very good things; he arrives here, 
 and forthwith begins; he speaks, now in a flippant, now in 
 a dogmatic style, in one breath, about every thing that comes 
 under his eye, and very many that do not come within the 
 horizon of his vision — about science, arts, politics, trades, 
 commerce, statistics, society, education, industry, history, 
 laws, canals, railroads, scenery, agriculture, cookery, naviga- 
 tion, horses, morals, prisons, pauperism, about every thing 
 on, above, and under the earth; he is an adept in every 
 subject cognizable by man. A polyhistor like Leibnitz 
 would be but a schoolboy compared to a traveller of this 
 kind. You know me, my dear friend, too well to suspect 
 me of criticizing others merely because they criticize the 
 United States. Nothing is farther from me; do I always 
 praise this country? If a man prefer a monarchy to a re- 
 public, why not; let him state his reasons, and try to make 
 out his case by taking the Americans as an example. One 
 of my best friends in Rome was a Dominican, and with 
 more than one royalist I am on terms of intimacy. Let 
 me but see sincerity, the wish to arrive at truth and readi- 
 ness to acknowledge it, and I am satisfied, I am, indeed. 
 
( 16 ) 
 
 not one of those who believe that every institution here is 
 incomprehensible to all human beings except the natives of 
 this country. The institutions of the United States are the 
 w^ork of man, and can be understood by men, if they are 
 founded in reason; but the action of a cotton spinning ma- 
 chine cannot be comprehended in half an hour by one pre- 
 viously unacquainted with it, nor a nation with all its various 
 aspects within a day. I love spirited animadversion dearly, 
 but let it be spirited, and not a bubble of vanity, and above all, 
 let it abstain from positive falsehoods with which the reve- 
 rend tourist has seen fit to grace every page of his classical 
 production. 
 
 The other kind of travellers arrives with an opinion equal- 
 ly ready, but enthusiastically in favor of the country. They 
 expect — heaven knows what. The most phantastic illusions 
 fill their brains. They believe to find at every corner at least 
 one Aristides, on every farm a Cincinnatus, and every street 
 sweeper with silk ribands coleur de rose, flowing from his 
 liberty cap, which he would be as far from doffing before 
 Gessler's hat on the pole, as was William Tell. When I 
 was in Liverpool, I visited, with a friend of mine and ano- 
 ther young man, a self-deceiver of this kind, the packet 
 which was to carry me the next day to this shore. The first 
 thing we happened to see on board of this noble and elegant 
 vessel, was an old hat belonging, perhaps, to the " doctor."* 
 "What," exclaimed my friend, apparently surprised, "an 
 old hat in youthful America!" I thought it a good hit, but 
 it had no effect on the enthusiast; he continued to believe 
 that heroes and matchless citizens were stalking about here 
 arm in arm with pure philanthropists and never-sullied po- 
 liticians. He crossed the Atlantic, and what was the con- 
 sequence, I need not say. I undertake to foretell of every 
 European arriving here, what he will think and say of this 
 country a year hence, if he will fairly tell me at the time 
 
 • It is a strange, yet quite general custom with American and Englisli 
 sailors to cull the cook, especially when a black man, "tlxe doctor." — 
 Editor, 
 
( 17 ) 
 
 what he expects to find. I have done it often, and never 
 failed. 
 
 With me it was different. I came here expecting lit- 
 tle, because I expected little from man. I had lived in 
 many countries and in a great variety of situations; I had 
 already learned to sail when occasion required it, with a 
 jury-mast on the wide sea of life, nor was its daily tread- 
 mill altogether unknown to me. Experience and reality 
 had already forced upon me, young as I was, that patient 
 shoulder-shrugging way of regarding matters and things, 
 which, bitter as it may be, no thinking man, whose lot it is 
 to see mankind through the microscope, can help arriving at. 
 Recollect what men of all ages have said, from Solomon down 
 to the last sage. I think, then, that I took things a little 
 more as they are than many others do; and this may be 
 the cause of my having arrived at different conclusions. I 
 found that the Americans have their good and bad points of 
 character. I have won friends among them, whom I shall 
 dearly love wherever I may be, even among the proscribed 
 New Englanders. Their country I have found wanting 
 in many interesting things and abounding in others. It is 
 true, here is no gallery of pictures or great collection of sta- 
 tues to delight your friend, whom you know to have spent 
 days and days in the Vatican, feeding his soul upon those 
 realized perfections, which nature seems continually to strive 
 for, but which to conceive is left to the human mind. Sup- 
 pose, however, I were obliged to live in a European provin- 
 cial town, what should I have there? Say, what has a man 
 who lives in Manchester or Breslaw? I find that people 
 often compare America with Europe, when they mean Lon- 
 don, Paris, or Rome. 
 
 The great interest of this country lies in its institutions. 
 There the observer of society and student of mankind finds 
 enough with which to occupy himself. You may ob- 
 serve at once, in this country, some of the boldest appli- 
 cations of principles, the most recently developed, and the 
 first manifestations, the first pulsations, so to speak, of those 
 
( 18 ) 
 
 drinciples of life which lie at the bottom of every political 
 society. You may see in the farthest west, beyond the 
 boundaries of organized society, the incipient stages of poli- 
 tical relations, of law and justice laid bare, as if prepared for 
 the student of history, and of the gradual development of 
 man as a member of political society. Perhaps all this would 
 become clearer to you, should I write you about the regula- 
 tors and the manner in which communities, beyond the 
 limits of established law, meet the imperious necessity of 
 dealing out justice; of this kind was one of the most inte- 
 resting cases that ever came to my knowledge, when, lately, 
 the assembled men of a district, arrested, tried, and executed 
 a murderer. By what right? — By the right to punish crime, 
 natural, indispensable and inalienable to every society, and 
 growing out of the necessity, both physical and moral, of 
 punishment. 
 
 The United States form a republic of thirteen millions 
 of inhabitants, founded on broader principles of liberty, 
 than any former political society. This is a fact, and is it 
 not interesting to study how so great a fact came to pass? 
 But you will agree that, with a subject matter of this kind, 
 institutions and their operations must be studied, which is 
 what most travellers are not very willing to do. My ha- 
 bits and occupations have afforded me the opportunity of 
 collecting more materials in regard to the United States 
 than, perhaps, ever a native of a foreign country had either 
 the disposition or opportunity to collect, whilst my long re- 
 sidence here, together with some additional causes, have ren- 
 dered me intimately acquainted with the whole social life 
 of the Americans. I can say, in this respect, of them what 
 Byron said of his acquaintance with the Italians. 
 
 If, then, you do not think me quite destitute of skill and a 
 habit of observation, you may possibly, as you in fact intimate 
 in your letter, consider me, in some measure, qualified to 
 give a correct picture of this, at least, interesting country. 
 But I could not do it, even if so many travellers had not 
 given me a distaste for this kind of authorship. I dislike 
 
( 19 ) 
 
 the idea of being classed among the travellers by profession. 
 They are, besides the Bedouins, the most dangerous class of 
 people to deal with, and I no longer permit one of them to 
 approach me with his pencil unsheathed. " Lay down your 
 arms," I cry, " come like an honest man, but no stabbing in 
 the back, and you are welcome; don't drink my wine, and 
 go many thousand miles off and say you drank cider; and 
 put things into my mouth which never dropped from my 
 lips." 
 
 Yet I might give a work, treating of the country, its in- 
 stitutions, and the true state of its civilization, without any 
 gossip of the kind. This could be properly done only in a 
 work similar to that of Goede on England;* and still deeper 
 than that ought it to enter into all important matters. The 
 time to do this has not yet come for me, and I dislike ex- 
 ceedingly to be half understood. A true and clear picture 
 of the state of religion, theology, and church affairs, alone 
 would require half a volume. If I say that theology, catho- 
 lic and protestant, is at least a century behind the theology 
 of Germany, — I speak here of the science as such, and of 
 the general state only, because who does not know the dis- 
 tinguished merits of a Stuart in Andover, — that we meet 
 with the same controversial views and limited philological 
 knowledge, which existed with us at that time, my asser- 
 tions would be immediately extended, and conclusions made, 
 to which I should be very unwilling to subscribe. How 
 would it be possible to treat thoroughly of law and jurispru- 
 dence in a short chapter? You may unqualifiedly praise or 
 censure in very few words; I am not willing to do either; 
 truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, on sub- 
 jects of this kind, requires a detailed investigation. 
 
 You must not then expect me to give you a connected ac- 
 count, claiming to show the United States like a well-dried 
 plant laid out on the blotting paper of a herbarium. For 
 my views on some single institutions, I must refer you to 
 
 * It has been translated into English. — Edttoh. 
 
( 20 ) 
 
 single works of mine. However, as I have just made a trip 
 to Niagara, I will write, for you and our private circle, some 
 letters on subjects as they may happen to occur to my mind 
 in recalling the events of my journey. But do not forget 
 two things; it is summer, and a summer in Philadelphia is 
 no trifle — and you know that mercury and the human mind 
 are like the two buckets in the well, when one is up the 
 other is down. For several weeks we have been forcibly 
 reminded of the situation of the three men in the fiery fur- 
 nace; yes, I have thought that we shall stand in need of 
 some such annealing place, in order to pass with safety from 
 this heat into the cooler days of autumn. When the air we 
 inhale is as hot as the steam in the Stufe di Nerone* when 
 from the bed which receives us, parched and arid, in the eve- 
 ning, after the trouble of falling asleep, we rise in the morn- 
 ing unrefreshed and unrestored to elasticity of mind, to drag 
 ourselves through the same existence for the next twelve 
 hours, which is rather a permission of breathing than a real 
 life — you must not be surprised, should you find Dante's 
 heavy, leaden mantle of mediocrity hanging round my mind. 
 I am astonished that we do not all become beau-ideals of mo- 
 rality, since this heat ought to purify the basest metals. 
 
 Without ice we should undoubtedly melt, and it is fortu- 
 tunate that the active farmer of the north omits not to lay 
 in a quantity during winter, and that the enterprising mer- 
 chant of New England ships it in summer to the south, to 
 the Carolinas, Georgia, New Orleans, and Havanna. By the 
 way, have you seen in the papers, that an ice-merchant of 
 Boston has sent a cargo of his goods to the East Indies? It 
 arrived well-conditioned, and the captain of the vessel re- 
 ceived a silver tankard with an appropriate inscription from 
 
 • This, it is hardly necessary to say, is an exag-geration. The baths of 
 Nero, near Pozziioli, are so hot that it is necessary to undress in order to ap- 
 proach their wells. Few travellers dare to follow the guide who is in the 
 habit of fetching water from them, in order to boil eggs. We remember 
 how scorchingly hot the air felt in the lungs when we visited the place, and 
 s\icceeded in penetrating to the end with our guide. — Editdk. 
 
( 21 ) 
 
 tlie governor at Calcutta. Other cargoes have followed. 
 What an enterprise ! Vasco did not dream of discovering 
 the way for Kennebec and Boston ice to the " land of spices," 
 when he doubled the Cape. Compare it to the paddling and 
 creeping along the shores of the ancients, and yet Ulysses 
 had his Homer. Some years ago, I remember, some ice ar- 
 rived in London from Sweden, and the custom-house offi- 
 cers did not know what rate of duty to demand. They 
 were as embarrassed as the officers here some years ago when 
 a mummy arrived from Egypt. Was it a manufactured arti- 
 cle? Did we want protection for our mummies? These were 
 the important questions. Certainly it ought to pay duty. 
 If salt pork pays duty, why not smoked emigrant? It was 
 lucky that the spiced man, being accustomed to waiting, did 
 not suffer from delay like the Swedish ice, which melted, 
 and, before the decision had arrived what duty should be 
 paid, the article which was to pay, had vanished, a situation 
 similar to many law-cases.* 
 
 In addition to heat and other things, I have to plead want 
 of time; I must steal an hour here and an hour there, and 
 you cannot expect that spirit which a man may give to his 
 writings, who has the whole twenty-four at his disposal, 
 and may choose the time when his mind is the bright- 
 est — with myself, after I have taken that decoction which 
 Voltaire could not obtain strong enough and Leibnitz not 
 weak enough. I will write most piously, in the sense of 
 Sterne: begin, and trust the rest to the gods, as many poli- 
 ticians do. I know not how many letters you will probably 
 receive, for I cannot speak with the precision with which 
 the author of the Fredoniad was able to sing; — 
 
 " Songs thjrty I have sung", yet ten remain. 
 Crude, undigested, written in the brain." 
 
 • It is not a little characteristic of the enterprising turn of the Americans, 
 that, while Bostonians send their ice to distant shores of Asia, a keeper of a 
 menagerie sends an expedition to the Cape of Good Hope; to catch new and 
 interesting animals. It has succeeded, and we have now here some of the 
 rarest and most interesting animals. — EuiTon. 
 
( 22 ) 
 
 He knew how much his indigestion would allow him to 
 produce. Have you seen the Fredoniad? All I knew of it 
 for a long time was, that it was an absurd concoction not 
 looked at by any one, until chance threw it into my hands at 
 an auction. If he who makes us laugh be really our benefac- 
 tor, this poet deserves a more flourishing wreath than Escu- 
 lapius himself. How I have enjoyed this grand poem ! It is 
 hardly known now; and this is a pity, for it is eminently fit- 
 ted to shake the diaphragm. 
 
( 23 ) 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 A BALL ROOM the moriiing after the feast; the giostra 
 after the bull-fight is over, and the people have left the 
 place; a stage from which tableaux vivans have delight- 
 ed gazing friends with their fairy-like charms, and upon 
 which now falls from without the glare of every day re- 
 ality, disenchanting green baize into green baize, and white 
 gauze into white gauze, are sights which never failed to 
 produce peculiar impressions upon me. I have stood on 
 the evening of the 18th on the battle-field of Waterloo, 
 when, as one of my company said, " the fun was o'er," and 
 made my Hamlet contemplations, which forced themselves 
 even on the mind of a lad; but nothing equals, I think, a 
 morning after a closely contested election in a populous 
 city. Rise early on the morning after and walk through 
 the quiet streets. Walls and corners are yet covered with 
 flaming hand-bills, witnesses and documents of the high- 
 running excitement, which but yesterday seemed to roll 
 like an agitated sea. You are told in large capitals that if 
 the candidates of the other ticket are elected, the common- 
 weal needs must perish; our liberty, happiness, national ho- 
 nor are lost: close by sticks another huge paper which de- 
 clares, in equally measured terms, that the opposite side is 
 composed of a set of Catilinas at least, a nest of designing 
 demagogues, corrupt, sold, and panting for the people's 
 money. They tell you that orphans and widows, whose 
 money has been squandered away, call upon you to vote 
 against the opposite candidate; they warn you to look well 
 
( 24 ) 
 
 at your ticket before you throw it into the ballot box, be- 
 cause spurious ones have been circulated by their opponents, 
 to whom all means appear fair.* Above these placards are 
 others of a somewhat earlier date, calling upon the citizens 
 of a certain party of such or such a ward to attend a 
 meeting, where election business of great importance will 
 be transacted, and the chair be occupied by some old revo- 
 lutionary crony, for they have their Marathon-men (may 
 not ^toc^aB-mofixxoi thus be translated analogous to Waterloo- 
 men?) here as well as the Greeks had, and wherever an old 
 honest revolutionary soldier can be hunted up, he is sure to 
 be used for the chair of some meeting or other.t It is na- 
 
 * Elections in New England are much calmer than those described by 
 the authoi'; indeed, they are, of all elections we have seen, botli in Europe 
 or America, by far the most orderly. Without popular elections, we mean 
 elections by large bodies, whoever may compose them, no ti'ue representa- 
 tion is possible, and wherever popular elections are, there will be at the time 
 of the election excitement, yet, as is also our autlior's opinion, much more 
 in appearance than in reality. It is like the agitation of the atmosphere, 
 necessary from time to time, in order to cleai' it. We may add, however, 
 that of aU elections we ever have seen in the United States, nothing is to be 
 compared to a well-contested English election in a large place; for example, 
 a Westminster election. The excitement, the overbearing rudeness dis- 
 played by the populace, and the knowledge of the immense system of 
 bribing which is carried on in an English election, render it one of the most 
 interesting spectacles to the observer.— Editoh. 
 
 I The battle of Marathon was, as may be imagined, a subject of peculiar 
 pride with the Athenians, and the gloiy of the heroes of Maratlion, (^«g:t3-»- 
 vofAH-X"' or Marathon-wan'iors,) was ever in the mouth of their orators; so 
 that, at last, it degenerated into the ridiculous, as is often the course of simi- 
 lar things. The sweetest airs of Mozart have been so mercilessly hackneyed 
 by street organs, that we run as soon as we hear the tune. 
 
 Lucian, in Rhetorum Prise, c. 18, makes a teacher of elecution impress 
 his pupil with the importance of never forgetting Marathon, however ahen 
 to the subject. " If you speak," he says, " at Athens of an adulterer, relate 
 what was done with the Indians and in Ecbatana; but before all, mention 
 Marathon, and Cynegirus, without which it will not do. Let always vessels 
 pass through the Athos, and soldiers tread upon the HeDespont; let the sun 
 be darkened by the Persian an-ows, let Xerxes flee, and Leonidas be admired, 
 the inscription of Othryades be read, and sound the names of Salamis and 
 Artemisium and Plataea often and close together." — Editor. 
 
( 25 ) 
 
 tural; how could it be otherwise? They are, in one respect, 
 more than Marathon-men, because they did not only defend 
 liberty but conquered independence, and the rarer an ai-ticle, 
 the higher the price. Carroll of Carrolton, for a long time 
 the last surviving signer, received more honor than many 
 others together, who were more active in the sacred business 
 of declaring independence; and the farther we recede from 
 the time of our " blessed revolution," and the rarer "revo- 
 lutionary soldiers" become, the more they are sought for. 
 I think there may be a time when people will run after me 
 to see one of the last Waterloo-men, as my brother used to 
 say that he had no doubt but his face, marked by the small- 
 pox, would become in time so great a rarity that people 
 would take it for a beauty. But to retuni to our election. 
 
 A noise is made before every election, proportionate (or 
 rather disproportionate) to its importance, from that of the 
 president down to a constable; sometimes the uninitiated 
 would think the whole country in a dangerous fever; new 
 papers are established, if the importance of the election 
 warrant it, pamphlets circulated, articles written, letters pub- 
 lished, handbills printed, "sumptuous" dinners got up, 
 meetings held, correspondence with committees of the same 
 party kept up, whole districts deluged with printed speeches 
 and political publications, all of which is expensive, and yet 
 supported by contribution without coercion. And in order 
 to arrive at the true statement of the expense of a govern- 
 ment with elective representatives, I think that allowance 
 for the expense of electing should be made, since it cannot 
 be avoided, is inherent in the nature of this kind of govern- 
 ment, and is paid after all by the nation; though I allow it is 
 a tax which falls solely on the wealthy. Yet do not believe 
 that our elections are at all as expensive as the English; 
 nothing like it; nor is the kind of expense the same. Po- 
 sitive bribes are not known with us, and the candidate him- 
 self has no expenses to incur.* 
 
 • Our expenses, indeed, sound hardly worth mentioning-, when we read 
 in English papers of instances as the following'; — "Mr. Fuller stood success- 
 
 4 
 
( 26 ) 
 
 The morning after the election all is quiet, the sea is calm 
 as if a heavy rain had fallen upon it. There hang the 
 staring handbills with their enormous imputations and 
 caricature exaggerations, now lifeless, tasteless, and with- 
 out any farther effect or use than haply to point a moral. 
 Soon after the rains of heaven wash down these traces of 
 man's passion. In Paris some old woman would scrape 
 them down, and soon placards of all parties would be mashed 
 in one vat, peaceably to combine in the formation of a new 
 sheet, destined perhaps to the same fate. 
 
 These periodical excitements lead to curious considera- 
 tions. Is it not strange that year after year the same thing 
 is acted over, and year after year brings the same bustle, 
 noise, and clamor? That man never seems to gain in ex- 
 perience? That again and again excitement rises to a high 
 pitch, though we know, to-morrow it will appear like labor 
 lost. But, pray, do not misunderstand me, as if I were de- 
 sirous for political apathy; nothing is worse in a free coun- 
 try than a lifeless disregard of its politics; I would prefer even 
 an undue excitement. Ambition, bad as it often is, is far 
 better than supercilious disdain of the politics of one's own 
 country; one thing only is worse than both — greediness for 
 money in politics. Wherever this corruption is found, the 
 commonwealth is irretrievably lost. Rome and France af- 
 ford the proofs. I censure only that party spirit, which 
 makes unjust assertions, and that clamor which knows its 
 assertions not to be true. And how often — though I willingly 
 allow by no means always — is it a trifle, a bubble, a mere no- 
 thing, that consumes so much activity, and energy, and leads 
 to such doubtful views of political morality ! You see, man is 
 man every where; the same spirit, though in another form, 
 is observed at courts, among sects, in families, with school- 
 boys, scholars, and artists. Oh, the tabourets, the tabourets 
 
 fully a severely-contested election with Colonel Sergisson, wliich lasted six- 
 teen days, and cost the former 20,000/., in addition to a subscription purse of 
 30,000/. made by the county. The expenses incurred by Ml*. Sergisson 
 were, we behcve, equally heavy." — Editor. 
 
( 27 ) 
 
 of Retz!* The " Our Father," and " Father of us," of the 
 Calvinists and Lutherans!! The blue and green caps! The 
 white and red roses! The Nominalists and the Realists! The 
 big-endians and little-endians, who are indeed no carica- 
 tures, at least, no fictitious caricatures. Who has not seen 
 them acted in real life? But a few years ago, one part of a 
 congregation, in a considerable town of New England, was 
 for the erection of a stove in their meeting-house, whilst the 
 rest strenuously opposed the measure; and stovites and anti- 
 
 * The author must refer to a passage in the Memoh-s of the Cardinal de Retz. 
 It is so amusing tlu-oughout, particularly to us republicans, that we consider 
 ourselves justified in giving a translation. On page 23, vol. ii., of the Ge- 
 neva edition of If 52, the Cardinal says: " The prince had engaged to cause 
 the tabouret (a chair, without back, on which certain privileged ladies were 
 allowed to seat themselves In the presence of the court) to be given to the 
 Countess de Foix; and the cardinal, (Mazarin,) who was much opposed to it, 
 excited all the youths of the court to oppose all tabowets which were not 
 founded upon brevets. The prince, who suddenly saw opposed to him the 
 nobility of the court, at the head of which the MarshalL'Hospital had placed 
 himself, was not willing to cause public excitement against himself for interests 
 which where indifferent to him, and he thought it enough to do for the house of 
 Foix, if he upset the tabourets of the other privileged houses. That of the 
 house of Rohan was the first of the number; and imagine how unpleasant a 
 shock of this nature must have been to the ladies of tliis name! They re- 
 ceived the news on the same evening, when the Duchess de Guimene re- 
 turned from Anjou. Ladies de Chevreuse, de Rohan, and de Monbazon, re- 
 paired the next morning to her. They pretended that the affront offered to 
 them was only to take vengeance against the Fronde, (tlie party to which 
 the Cardinal de Retz belonged. ) We concluded upon a counter-party .among 
 the nobility for the support of the tabouret of the house de Rohan. Made- 
 moiselle de Chevreuse was much pleased that she had thus been distinguished 
 from the house of Lorraine; but the consideration of her mother was tlie reason 
 that she did not dare to contradict general feeling. It was proposed to try 
 to shake tlie prince, before it should come to an open rupture; I undertook 
 the mission, and went the same evening; my pretext was my relationship with 
 the house de Guimene. The prince, who understood me before I had end- 
 ed, said, ' You are a good relative; it is right to satisfy you. I promise you 
 that I shall not oppose the tabouret of the house of Rohan.' " — Editor. 
 
 ■\ Luther had translated the beginning of the Lord's Prayer by "Father of 
 us" (analogous to the Greek original,) Calvin, however, by " Our Father," 
 and this difference was insisted upon with great pertinacity in the controver- 
 sies and contests of the two sects in Germany. — Editor. 
 
( 28 ) 
 
 stovites allowed themselves to be carried to a degree of ex- 
 citement unexampled in the memory of the oldest inhabi- 
 tants. In former times, it would have led to bloodshed, and 
 put a whole province in fire. I once found the inhabitants 
 of a small town in England in great agitation, because the 
 rector's wife had appeared in church with a fashionable hat 
 from London ; half of the female inhabitants sided with her, 
 half were against her. A goose is a goose, and a monkey a 
 monkey; an ass is an ass, and a tiger a tiger, but a man — I 
 do not know what he is, certainly not a man. Would you 
 believe that, in 1830, a man was killed at an election in 
 Nova Scotia? What a tremendous tornado in a tea-kettle! 
 Losing a life in a Nova Scotia election! This is carrying 
 the fun too far, particularly for one of the party, though, ac- 
 cording to Pierquin, dying is a " delicious, nay, voluptuous 
 sensation," and no greater inducement to crime can be held 
 out, than the sweet tickling of a guillotine,* or the smiling 
 little abbreviation : Susp. per. col. 
 
 Again, it is remarkable what excited language is used by the 
 papers and public speakers in these times of political contest, 
 whilst every body knows that not half of it is meant in reality. 
 It reminds me of a picture which I found in one of my pedes- 
 trian journeys, in a Silesian tavern. It represented a fellow 
 with a knowing face, and, as spoken by him, were written 
 the words: "Who knows whether it is true!" thus throw- 
 ing a serious doubt over every thing that was said by the 
 garrulous guests of the inn. I happen to know here three 
 families, in each of which there are two brothers, directly 
 opposed in politics, and manifesting their political opinions 
 in public and very decided speeches; some of their sons are 
 for, some against the father; yet they stand on the most 
 amicable footing with each other. On the whole, I like 
 this much. I believe that nowhere else do men allow, 
 
 • Pierquin, in lus work De la Peine de Mort, thinks to prove that, as the 
 author states, dj-ing is a voluptuous pleasure and that capital punishment is 
 an incongruity since torture has been abolished, if it be the intention of the 
 legislators to inflict pain, and deter by it. — Editok. 
 
( 29 ) 
 
 with so much good humor, every one to have and follow 
 his political opinion. You may see senators and represent- 
 atives in Washington fighting deadly battles, and an hour 
 later, walking and joking together. Not that this always 
 indicates that all their political course flows from interest, 
 and not from conviction; I have seen instances where no 
 such suspicion can exist. No, it is because people here have 
 always been accustomed to acknowledge in every one the 
 right politically to act as he thinks best. It is a manly qua- 
 lity which I love to see, as long as there is no real politi- 
 cal Vrime imputed. But in the newspapers all, of course, 
 wears a heightened aspect; there every thing is rouged to 
 the utmost. 
 
 We must be fair, however, and consider that all language, 
 if used out of the narrowest circle of our family or long-tried 
 friends, is exaggerated, and that not in politics alone. Is not 
 our language in social and polite intercourse equally exag- 
 gerated? " I am extremely happy to see you," " your most 
 obedient servant;" is this not language equally overcharged 
 with any newspaper article, for or against a candidate?* 
 
 • We think all exaggerations of this kind find their beau ideal in the let- 
 ter which Ibrahim-Pacha of Egypt wrote to tlie sultan in 1832, after having 
 beaten him soundly, and exacted a peace on conditions sufficiently onerous 
 for the sultan. There is such insolence in this oriental civility of a successful 
 rebel to his master, that we cannot help inserting it here. Ibrahim thanks 
 the sultan for the investiture of the govenament of Adana: — 
 
 " My sublime, magnanimous, awe-inspiring, mighty, great Sovereign, our 
 benefactor, the benefactor of mankind. 
 
 " May God grant to your Sublimity a life without end, and make the au- 
 gust shadow of your Sublimity a protection for all men, and especially for my 
 humble head. 
 
 "Your Inexhaustible goodness has induced you, most gracious Sovereign, 
 to grant me the government of Adana as mahassUik (in farm.) 
 
 "Animated by this new favour of your Sublimity, the duration of my frail 
 existence shall be wholly devoted to praying to God for the prolongation of 
 your hfe and reign. 'As my heart is pen^aded by a feeUng of happiness, I en- 
 tertain (God is my witness) no wish but to act so as to obtain the gracious 
 approbation of your Sublimity, and to find occasion to devote myself to your 
 service. For the purpose of expressing my gratitude to your Sublimity, and 
 
( 30 ) 
 
 The comparison could be carried through many branches, 
 and it must be, therefore, borne in mind, particularly by 
 people abroad, who wish to judge of the political state of a 
 country by its papers and other publications, that much of 
 all the violence and contest exists on the paper alone; there 
 it remains and. there it dies. There was a man, at the be- 
 ginning of the French revolution, who edited two newspa- 
 pers at the same time; one for the popular party, one for the 
 king, and both in violent language. I do not mean to say 
 that he is a fair specimen of all editors and public orators, 
 but most of them have a passion which they can pull out 
 like the stops of an organ. Promises, proclaimed by mo- 
 narchs when they assume the sceptre, are not the only things 
 which are to be taken as words of course, though, I confess, 
 I think editors might be a little more civil with each other, 
 since the sultan has given them a good example in prohibit- 
 ing, as early as IS 30, by a regular fetwa, the calling of Chris- 
 tians, Christian dogs. 
 
 Thirdly, those very bills on the corners of the street, and 
 the perfect, good-humored calmness as soon as the contest 
 is over, show that the Americans, the least excitable nation* 
 I know of, are eminently qualified for a government of law. 
 It is my full conviction, founded upon the little knowledge 
 of history I have, and on constant and close observation, 
 that there never was a nation so fitted for it, in ancient or 
 modern times, so calculated to solve a number of difficult 
 political problems, as the Americans, descending as they do 
 from that noble nation to which mankind owes nearly all 
 those great ideas, the realization of which forms the aim of 
 all the political struggles on the European continent, and 
 
 to express my most humble thanks, I venture to lay this humble petition at 
 "the foot of the throne of the sublime, magnanimous, awe-inspiring, miglity, 
 great padishah, our august sovereign and benefactor, the benefactor of all 
 men." 
 
 This letter was written by IbraWm-Pacha witli his own hand, and sealed 
 with his seal. — Ebitoh, 
 
 * Hence there is little of what is called fun In America. — Editor. 
 
( 31 ) 
 
 which the historian will single out as the leading and cha- 
 racteristic political features of the present age — namely, 
 elective representation, two houses, an independent judiciary, 
 liberty of the press, responsibility of ministers, a law stand- 
 ing above the highest ruler even if a monarch, and a proper 
 independence of the minor communities in the state — that 
 great nation which alone sends along with its colonies a 
 germ of independent life and principle of self-action, (ren- 
 dering the gradual unfolding of their own, peculiar law, pos- 
 sible,) and above all, that nation which first of all elevated 
 itself to the great idea of a lawful opposition.* Descend- 
 ing, as the Americans do, from this nation, which seems to 
 have civil liberty in its bones and marrow, and situated as 
 they are, in a boundless country, allowing scope to the bold- 
 
 * Reading over my letter, I will hastily add, here on the margin, a few 
 ideas of mine on opposition. Do you recollect that about eight years ago a 
 member of parliament, I forget his name, used in the house tlie expres- 
 sion, "His Majesty's opposition." Now, this sounded very ridiculous, but 
 there was a deep sense in this apparent paradox. Opposition is an ingre- 
 dient part of a free government. The minister cannot act without — but the 
 scanty paper will not allow me to say all I should wish to say. Only thus 
 much v/ill I add. A systematic and lawful opposition shows a high state of 
 political development, and if the future historian knew nothing of the Eng- 
 lish but that they first elevated themselves to this idea, he would conclude 
 that it must have been a nation in a very high stage of political advancement. 
 The Turks fonnerly did not even know of such a thing as the mere official 
 discharge of a minister; he was turned out of office and life at the same 
 time. Now they have arrived at this stage of civilization, yet the minister is 
 banished. In France the discharge of a minister was formerly called dis- 
 grace. There was always the idea of something personal between the mo- 
 nai-ch and the minister connected with the dismissal of the latter. In Spain 
 a minister receives his discharge and banishment from the capital at the same 
 time. In England, and now also in France, when a minister is discharged, 
 he goes quietly to the house, and, in all probability, takes his seat witli the 
 opposition. No one dreams of conspiracies and revolutions. The monarcli 
 even has been known to have a pei'sonal hking for a minister, and to show it 
 after his removal from office. — So much greater is moral secunty than phy- 
 sical. In Asia every dismissed vizier is supposed to meditate rebellion, he 
 must die; in Europe a monarch is dethroned and allowed peaceably to make 
 his exit. Antiquity never elevated itself to the idea of a lawful and orga.- 
 nized opposition. 
 
( 32 ) 
 
 est enterprise without causing discontent and political fric- 
 Hon, (which, in countries closely populated, cannot be avoid- 
 ed,) — at a great distance from Europe and all her intricate 
 questions and diplomatic influences, yet blessed with the 
 civilization of that part of the world by means of the all- 
 uniting sea, over which they have thrown their flying 
 bridges, the fleet messengers of the Atlantic, conductors and 
 reconductors of civilization, and, in addition to all these ad- 
 vantages, possessed of their calm and sedate disposition — 
 truly, if they are not made for a government in which the 
 sway of the law alone is acknowledged, then tell me what 
 nation is or was so? As a thousand things co-operated in 
 ancient Greece to produce that unrivalled state of perfection 
 in which we find the fine arts to have been there — a happy 
 constellation of the most fortunate stars — so a thousand fa- 
 vorable circumstances concur in America, to make it pos- 
 sible that a far greater amount of liberty can be introduced 
 into all the concerns of her political society than ever was 
 possible before with any other nation, or will be at any fu- 
 ture period, yet also requiring its sacrifices, as the fine arts 
 with the Greeks required theirs. 
 
 The influence of this nation has been considerable al- 
 ready; it will be much more so yet in ages to come: poli- 
 tical ideas will be developed here and have a decided effect 
 on the whole European race, and, for aught I know, upon 
 other races; but as the Grecian art has kindled the sense of 
 the beautiful with many nations, but never could be equalled 
 again (as a national afiair,) so it is possible that political no- 
 tions developed here and received by other nations, will 
 have a sound influence only if in their new application they 
 are modified to the given circumstance; for it is not in the 
 power of any man or nation, to create all those circumstances, 
 under the shade of which liberty reposes here. Politics is 
 civil architecture, and a poor architect indeed is he who for- 
 gets three things in building: the place where the building 
 is to be raised, the materials with which he has to build, 
 and the object for which the structure is erected. If the 
 
( "'•' ) 
 
 materials are Jews of Palestine and if the object of the fabric 
 be to keep the people as separate from neighbors as possible, 
 the architect would not obtain his end by a constitution si- 
 milar to that of one of our new states.* 
 
 It was necessary for the Americans, in order to make them 
 fit to solve certain political problems, which, until their so- 
 lution here, were considered chimerical (take as an instance 
 the keeping of this immense country without a garrison,) 
 that they should descend from the English, should begin as 
 persecuted colonists, severed from the mother country, and 
 yet loving it with all their heart and all their soul; to have 
 a continent, vast and fertile, and possessing those means of 
 internal communication, which gave to Europe the great su- 
 periority over Asia and Africa; to be at such a distance 
 from Europe, that she should appear as a map; to be mostly 
 Protestants, and to settle in colonies with different charters, 
 so that, when royal authority was put down, they were as 
 so many independant states, and yet to be all of one metal, 
 so that they never ceased morally to form one nation nor to 
 feel as such. 
 
 You may say: " Strange, that an abuse of liberty, as this 
 apparent or real party strife in election contests actually is, 
 should lead you to the assertion that no nation is fitter for a 
 government of law." Yet do I repeat it. How would it be 
 with other nations? It would be after an election of this kind 
 that the real trouble would only heghv, we see an instance 
 
 * We know the author well, and are thoroug-hly acquainted wltli his poli- 
 tical views. He is fai" from agreeing with tliose politicians who use the above 
 argument in order to impede exertions for liberty among different nations, 
 as if it were a mere aping of other people. On the contrary, it is his firm 
 belief, that from the beginning of the middle ages the European race had 
 always in common certain broad political principles, and that, at the present 
 time, one of these is that of representative government. And we would ask 
 the absolutists, who designate the desire among nations to profit by the ex- 
 ample of others as mere aping, when there was ever a more " tedious uni- 
 formity " among European states than in the feudal times? All the author 
 wished to express is, that his true love of liberty made him regard its essence 
 as more important still than its form. — Editor. 
 
 5 
 
( 34 ) 
 
 in South America. Here, on the other hand, as soon as the 
 election is over the contest is settled, and the citizen obeys 
 the law. " Keep to the right, as the law directs," you will 
 often find on sign-boai'ds on bridges in tliis country. It ex- 
 presses the authority which the law here possesses. I doubt 
 very much whether the Romans, noted for their obedience 
 to the law, held it in higher respect than the Americans. 
 
 A traveller who goes from the European continent to 
 England is struck with the respect paid to the law in that 
 country. I conversed once with an English stage-coach- 
 man on a certain law, which I thought very oppressive: 
 '• Yes, said he, but such is the law of the land." You 
 might travel all over Austria and Prussia before a postil- 
 lion would give you such an answer. He would say, in a 
 similar case, •* Yes, but they take good cai'e that you do 
 not get round them." If you go from England to the 
 United States, you find that there tlie law is held in still 
 higher respect. But to see the whole truth, to feel the full 
 weight of what I say, it is necessary to see the law admi- 
 nistered on minor occasions, to see riots quelled by citizens 
 themselves sworn in for the occasion, to see banks and mints 
 without sentinels, to travel thousands of miles and never 
 meet with a uniform; and farther, to observe that what the 
 law requires is here held honorable. No man looks upon 
 a district attorney as upon a tool of government because he 
 prosecutes in the name of the United States. 
 
 I was once with ^Messrs. sent by their government 
 
 to this country to inquire into our , in a Boston party. 
 
 A gentleman of fine appearance attracted their attention; 
 "who is he?" they asked. " The sherifi"," I replied. "The 
 sherifi"?" said one of them: "is not the sheriflT the ofiicer 
 who directs the infliction of capital punishment?" "' He 
 is," I answered. " And did he superintend the execution 
 this morning?" " He did," was my answer. " And he 
 here! ma fois that is rather too much!" exclaimed my 
 friend, in whom, though a gentleman of clear mind, all the 
 E'lropean prejudices against every person who has any 
 
( 35 ) 
 
 thing to do with the administering of capital punishments 
 were excited; but reflection soon came to his aid, and he 
 was struck with the rationality of this state of things. The 
 more civilized a nation the fewer are the prejudices against 
 professions and classes. In Spain, the business of the 
 butcher, and even the business of the wine-merchant, is con- 
 sidered as dishonorable; in Germany, but a few years ago, 
 the executioner had his own small table in the inn, and his 
 own glass fastened by a string to the wall. — What was a 
 merchant in France before the revolution? what a mechanic 
 all over Europe in the beginning of the middle ages? 
 
 Speaking of the good traits of the Americans I may as 
 well mention here, that they are ever ready to acknowledge 
 and make use of ability come whence it may — a Jew, a 
 Christian, a publican, a bricklayer, a man whom nobody 
 knows whence he comes, will meet with encouraging ac- 
 knowledgment of his capacity if he knows any thing which 
 they consider worth knowing. Of course, in this you will not 
 misunderstand me. I am not now speaking of the Ameri- 
 cans in their more social relations. Pour le reste the Ame- 
 ricans are no more angels than other people, nor am I 
 blind, I trust, towards the deficiencies of this country or the 
 faults of its inhabitants. I know that the criminal code of 
 Delaware is a disgrace, consisting of laws which cold inte- 
 rest and cruelty combined to enact, and that the unfathoma- 
 ble mud of the capital has at immense expense been changed 
 for impenetrable dust, arising in large clouds from a road, 
 made under the very eye of government, and of stones, which 
 it required gross ignorance to use for the building of a high- 
 way or street. 
 
 I visited yesterday our Eastern Penitentiary, the place 
 where the only practical and essentially merciful and phi- 
 losophical system of prison discipline, that which is founded 
 on solitary confinement with labor, was first successfully be- 
 gun and continued. You have read or may read my letters 
 to on this important subject. I hope he has been 
 
( 3G ) 
 
 able to found the criminal code which he is charged to draw 
 up on this theory of discipline. A penal law, which only 
 provides for the iiumber of years of imprisonment that are 
 to be awarded for a certain infringement of the laws, with- 
 out strictly determining the kind and manner of this im- 
 prisonment, is much like a bill which would give you the 
 prices in mere numbers without informing you to what units 
 these numbers refer. The nature of the punishment ought 
 to be accurately defined, unless we choose to leave it to the 
 discretion of the judge, as the Carolina does in so many 
 cases. As to that matter, the Spanish law, formerly in use 
 in Louisiana, determined only the crimes for which capital 
 punishment is to be inflicted, but leaves it to the judge 
 whether the criminal shall suffer by " decapitation of the 
 sword (for the statute, with great humanity, forbids the saw 
 and the reaping hook,) or burning or hanging, or casting to 
 be devoured by wild beasts;" very nice discretion indeed! 
 and all this after confession had been squeezed out by ap- 
 propriate means. [Escudrinar la verdad was the Spanish 
 expression for getting at the truth by torture, or as it still is, 
 for aught I know.) My motto for all penal justice is, lex 
 Clemens J judex certus, pcena sapiens.*- That practical 
 sense in which the Americans, as I think, excel all other 
 nations, has shown itself in nothing more than in their 
 making the manner in which punishment shall be inflicted 
 a matter of the penal law itself. But it is not my intention 
 to read you a lecture on penitentiaries, my dear friend ; I 
 only intended to tell you a story. 
 
 When I was walking in the long corridor of one of the 
 blocks of the prison, I heard two weavers, each in his lonely 
 cell, evidently striving to outdo each other in the swiftness of 
 their shuttles. My excellent friend the warden, seeing that 
 I noticed the rivalship, told me that they were often observed 
 running this race. Now this simple fact has in it something 
 
 • Mild laws, sure judges, wise punishments. — Epitor. 
 
( 37 ) 
 
 unspeakably touching to me. Two men of active minds, to 
 whom nothing of all this vast world remains but the narrow- 
 cell of their prison-house, and to neither of whom is left, of 
 all the possible spheres of activity in which to engage, but a 
 rivalship with his neighbor, of whom he knows not even 
 the name or face, in the rapidity of his shuttle! They can 
 perceive of each other actually nothing but the sound of 
 this little instrument as it flies from one hand to the other, 
 and this sound is sufficient to stimulate their ambition. 
 Perhaps the mere mentioning of the fact here upon paper 
 may not affect you as the actual sight of it did me; but to 
 my mind there was certainly something indescribably pain- 
 ful in the emulation of these imprisoned hermits at their soli- 
 tary loom. It affords one more illustration, of which daily 
 life and history give so many, that man cannot deny his na- 
 ture; it will show its original and deepest traits in situations 
 where you expect it least. Vanity has broken forth on the 
 guillotine; a mother's tenderness has shown itself in spite 
 of certain ruin, the acknowledgment of superiority of mind 
 in the black hole. 
 
 That principle, which God has planted deep in the human 
 heart, in order to propel mankind, and without which all 
 would stagnate — call it emulation, ambition, envy, pride, 
 jealousy, what you will, it is originally the same, — the desire 
 of separating ourselves by some distinction from the crowd, 
 and of outstripping our neighbor — this onward principle, as 
 it might be called, this original ingredient of the human soul, 
 manifests itself in this case in a most striking manner. Two 
 men who know nothing of each other, who are confined, 
 and whose exertions will be applauded by no one, whose 
 labors bring them no gain, and whose toiling is for the be- 
 nefit of no favorite, but is immerged in the produce of other 
 and less active; two men with whom no stimulus can ope- 
 rate that commonly incites to exertion, and who only know 
 that both are weavers by the rattling of the busy shuttle, yet 
 exert themselves to surpass each other in the only kind of 
 
( 38 ) 
 
 activity which affords them the possibility of rivalship! 
 Here is a strong instance of that principle in our soul which 
 gives life blood to society, and which, if not bridled, brings 
 its ruin; here are Cesar and Pompey. 
 
( 39 ) 
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 "Why shall we go to Europe's bloody shores 
 To seek the herbs which grow before our own doors,"* 
 
 Quoth I, to a friend of mine, a Swiss, who pines for his 
 towering Alps and their glowing summits, when the last rays 
 of a setting sun slowly take their leave of the snow-capped 
 peaks. " Let 's go to Niagara," said I, "that seems to be no 
 trifle either in its way." My friend smiled at the grandi- 
 loquent lines quoted above, which I found on a catalogue of 
 herbs and medicines gathered and prepared by the Mora- 
 vians of Bethlehem ; there these good folks had put it as a 
 sweetener for bitter draughts. 
 
 " Cosi all' egvo fanciul porgiamo aspersi 
 Di suave licor gli orli del vaso."f 
 
 The couplet at the beginning reminds one of a poor Ger- 
 man peasant, lately crushed under a barn, and who was 
 dragged from out the ruins with twenty-seven fractures; yet 
 he was cured! Nil desperandum! So do not despair of the 
 motto; it may, and,' in all probability, does, stand at the head 
 of very salutary preparations. Considering the immense and 
 various mass of rhyming in the present time, from the fore- 
 going distich to the poetry of King Louis, of Bavaria, one 
 
 • A true copy. — Editor. 
 
 ■j- Thus we give physic to a sick child, by covering the brim of the vessel 
 with sweet liquor. Tasso, canto i. iii. — Editor. 
 
( 40 ) 
 
 mis^ht almost wish thai all maakiiul should decree as did 
 once the constituent assembly in Paris: " Que deromvant 
 on iientendra plus a la harrc da la convmtion que la rai~ 
 son en proseJ'-^ 
 
 ]\Iv friend agreed; the day was fixed: the day lu-rived; 
 he could not go, and — so I went by myself. Of a voyage 
 round the world, the first half mile is always half the 
 way. I have been many years in this country; every 
 spring and every autumn I intended to go to the Falls, 
 but always something or other prevented me. Once, I was^ 
 on my way in the w-inter, but was called back. Now, 
 something entirely alien, brought me, at last, to execute 
 my long proposed jaunt. Animals w-hich think themselves 
 vastly superior to boai'-hunting dogs, do, nevertheless, equal- 
 ly with these, require "barkers,'' or '*' finders,'' to stir and 
 excite them to action.! Some stand in need of the barker 
 to incite them, others require the little ass which, in Lyons. 
 
 • In future, nothing shall be heard at the bar of the conyention but rea- 
 son in prose. — Editor. 
 
 f Boar-hunting, in several respects tlic most interesting hunting in Ger- 
 many, requires two kinds of dogs — tlie finders or bai'kers, which find the 
 bo:u' and follow tlie animal, b;u'king all tlie time, i\.m\. packer, (from the Ger- 
 man packen, to seize forcibly.) The latter arc very strong and heavy dogs, 
 bold enough to attack the boar, wlicn tliey come up with him, and bring him- 
 to the ground. The animal often inflicts serious wounds upon them, by tear- 
 ing their flesh v/ith his tusks. The hunter always has, for this purpose, a 
 thread and needle to sew up the wound, if possible. The boar tries to rip 
 open the belly, and it is ;vstonishing to see how serious wounds, when even 
 pai't of the intestines protrude, ai"e cured in this way. The hunter has be- 
 sides a smiill insti-ument, witli which he breaks open the jaws of the dogs, 
 which are so fui'ious in their attacks, tliat, if they have once obtained a 
 hold on the boar, a cramp generally renders tliem incapable of opening their 
 mouth. Boars are shot witli balls and rifles, but, when wounded, or tlie 
 sow, when she sees her young ones endangered, feai-lessly attack man. It is 
 when the hunter uses his cutlass, places it in position, that the enraged boai? 
 runs it into his body; this requires much courage and is extremely dangerous. 
 Wild boars will call togetlier their tribe, as t:une hogs do, and if a hunter 
 has fled to a ti'ee, it is not uncommon for these animals to uproot it witl^ 
 great pereeverance, and bring down tlie hunter. — Edixok. 
 
( 41 ) 
 
 is put before the horses merely to induce them to a steady- 
 pull. 
 
 Suppose me then on hoard a Delaware steamboat, leaving 
 Philadelphia early in the morning. " Sir, do you go to New 
 York?" — " Yes sir; why?" — " Please take these letters, and 
 throw them into the post-office." I did not know the gen- 
 tleman; I took the letters, at least five in number, and had 
 no sooner opened my carpet bag to put them in, than letters 
 rained in from all sides as if epistolary matter had broken 
 loose from the clouds. The liberty which every one takes 
 in this country, in asking you to carry letters, bundles, and, 
 now and then, a bandbox, though very great, is what every 
 one is equally ready to do for you, and so, on the whole, 
 the matter neutralizes itself, and is rather a convenience. I 
 believe, this is the only civilized country in which no law 
 exists prohibiting private persons from carrying sealed let- 
 ters. It would be considered a strange interference with 
 private concerns if ever a law of this kind should be at- 
 tempted here. The convenience of the public is the only 
 object of posts; if the public find a more convenient way for 
 themselves, let them make use of it. It is only forbidden to 
 employ the regular means of conveyance in the carriage of 
 letters, unless a previous agreement to that purpose be made 
 with the post-office. This is but fair. If other governments 
 would be unable to carry on the mail-establishment, were 
 private persons permitted to take letters, it is well to forbid 
 such : to forbid it, and yet derive a revenue from the postage, 
 is what many people consider a very unjust law, but to seize 
 upon a traveller's unsealed letters of recommendation, as so 
 much smuggled goods, as was the case with myself when I 
 arrived in England, I hold to be barbarous. Equally arbitrary 
 was (or still is) the law in Prussia which prohibited a tra- 
 veller, who set out by extra-post, from continuing his jour- 
 ney by private conveyance, unless, indeed, he chose to pay 
 a fine. 
 
 I was on the upper deck, when five lads arrived; without 
 
 6 
 
( ^'-' ) 
 
 sayinu; a wnnl, oaoh of tiiem took a chair, tilted it over, 
 phunnl lunuselt" in a position worthy the poneil of a Cruik- 
 shank, and took out a paper or hook. This leads nie to i^eniark 
 \jpon two eharaeteristios of the Auierieans, their louugini^ ha- 
 bit, and their eagerness to rt\id. It is strange that Anierioans 
 ai'e as unable to sit like the rest of the European race as a 
 Turk when he first arrives in Vienna. Whatever may be 
 the reason, and however strongly self-indulgence may plead 
 in its tavor, it is an uncouth custom; and, though »\ot prac- 
 tiseil in the higher ranks, you meet even theiv with the 
 same disposition, oidy retined by manner. A lady of my 
 acquaintance carried the thing, as a joke, so fi»r as to have 
 in one o( her roon\s twelve chairs, not one of which was 
 like the other, and that alnMnination, the rocking-chair, was 
 not wanting. If the lailies but knew how ill they look in it 
 with contracted shoulders and raised knees! However, you 
 do not find these mongi-el chairs in the parlors of the better 
 houses in New York and Philadelphia. Their use is much 
 more genexal in the eastern states, where I once saw a judge 
 on the bench rocking himself in his easy chair. That prac- 
 tical philosopher, Franklin, has the credit of their inven- 
 tion. 
 
 The following is chai^acteristic in its way: — When the 
 steam-eai^ on the rail-roads pass each other, and this often at 
 the rate of fifty miles an hour, newspapei"s — these necessary 
 surrogiites for the market of the ancients, whei'e every thing 
 was transacted orally — are exchanged, so that passengers 
 coming, for instance, from Philadelphia, receive the news of 
 New York, befoi-e they airive even on board the second 
 steamboat, which takes them up to that city; this is effected 
 by twisting the paper into a long roll, and holding it out of 
 the window of the car, when it is caught by the passengers 
 in the car passing in the opposite dii^ection. I was once 
 pit>sent when a young chap wished to deceive the others, 
 and held out an old paper, but what was our merriment when 
 we found that the paper we had received ia tuni, was of 
 still older date. 
 
( 43 ) 
 
 But to proceed with my travels. The boat was full; com- 
 fortable situations were sought, groups of acquaintances 
 formed, and soon all was pretty quiet. Foreigners often 
 complain of this silence; but besides the taciturn disposition 
 of Americans in general, it must be remembered that a steam- 
 boat is a moving street. Would you talk to every one in a 
 street? People of all trades and classes meet in the steam- 
 boat, and as there can be no great familiarity on an open 
 square, so is it impossible on board " the boat," on which 
 crowds of people collect together but for a short time. On 
 the Mississippi, indeed, the case is different. 
 
 Much has been said about steamboats, and very natu- 
 rally so. They save time, and that, alone, is saying much. 
 Steam has become the handmaid of civilization. Steam 
 has not only quickened the intercourse of men, but has 
 united things which, without it, would have remained se- 
 parate forever. Steam, I do not hesitate to say, has ce- 
 mented our union. How would it have been possible for 
 states, at such a distance from each other as J^ouisiana and 
 Maine, Missouri and Delaware, to remain firmly united, 
 had these distances continued to signify what they formerly 
 did, had, in short, a mile remained a mile? They would 
 have pulled one this way, the other that way; what inter- 
 ested, moved, or disturbed the one, might not have affected 
 the others; the conductors of the political fluid would have 
 been wanting, and the parts would naturally have been shi- 
 vered asunder. It was by roads as much as the forces which 
 used them, that the Roman empire was kept together for a 
 time. 
 
 When I was in Buffalo, I saw a steamboat and asked the 
 captain where he was going. "To Chicago," was the an- 
 swer. How far is that? "Eleven hundred miles by water," 
 he replied. Half the way across the Atlantic! And this he 
 said in a tone in which a waterman on the Thames would an- 
 swer a similar question, by " To Greenwich, sir." People 
 go to and fro between Chicago and Buffalo. There are steam- 
 boats for greater distances yet. But I probably shall touch 
 
( 44 ) 
 
 upon the distances in the United States again, and give you 
 some more remarks upon the subject. Let me only add 
 here, that, in my opinion, the history of civilization runs pa- 
 rallel with the history of communication, both physical and 
 intellectual, as roads, canals, steamboats, printing-presses, 
 newspapers. 
 
 For tliis reason, and because Fulton made the remote re- 
 gions of the west easj- of access to us, thus opening an im- 
 mense tield of enterprise to the fast-growing population, and 
 preventing for a long time that discontent and uneasiness, 
 so dangerous to calm and tirm liberty, with which a crowd- 
 ed population will ever be pregnant, I consider him a true 
 benefactor of this Union and the liberty of the American 
 people; separate the Union, and you will have jealousies, 
 misunderstandings, war: have war, and you will have ai'- 
 mies and taxes and consolidation, and then — good bye to 
 liberty. Were I asked for an inscription on the pedes- 
 tal of a statue of Fulton, (which ought to stand, if possible, 
 on the spot from which his first steamboat started,) I should 
 propose this: — 
 
 ROBERTO . FULTON . PENSYLVANIENSI 
 
 FLUMINA . LACUSQUE . SUBEGIT 
 
 ET . IN . TERRAS . REMOTAS 
 
 AR.\TRUM . TULIT 
 
 NECNON 
 
 EXTREMAS . PATRLE . REGIOXES 
 
 JUXXIT 
 
 ITAQLT: . FIRMIUS 
 
 SACRUM . FGEDUS . NOSTRUxM 
 
 PEPIGIT.* 
 
 There is a circumstance connected with the invention of 
 
 • In honor of Robert Fulton, of Pennsj Ivania. He subdued the rirers 
 and the lakes, and carried the plough to remote regions. He united the ex- 
 treme parts of his countr.', and thus made fimier the s.icred covenant of our 
 union. — Editor. 
 
( 45 ) 
 
 steamboats, which it has in common, though not in the same 
 degree, with the invention of the art of printing. Most 
 great discoveries have been made by chance or suffering. 
 What would the world be to this day without bills of ex- 
 change? It was cruelty that goaded men to this invention.* 
 What would the world be without posts and post-roads? It 
 was tyranny that invented them. What would the world 
 be without division of power? It was oppression that led 
 to it. But the art of printing was not invented in order to 
 multiply the decrees of a monarch or the orders of a minister; 
 it was the free invention of the human mind, which had ar- 
 rived at that stage of maturity where it required this means 
 of multiplication. Nor was the steamboat invented in order 
 to injure an enemy, or as a means of domestic tyranny; nor 
 was it the result of chance. It was the invention of a pri- 
 vate individual, who foresaw the immense advantages which 
 his country would derive from a navigation, able to brave 
 wind, tide, and current, and which in speed would leave all 
 other means of navigation far behind. t 
 
 Yet in giving their due to modern inventions or brilliant 
 discoveries, let us not forget old ones or those which now 
 appear so natural that millions are benefited by them, with- 
 out ever reflecting upon the immense influence they have 
 exercised upon mankind for centuries. He who invented 
 the saw, in imitation, probably, of the jaw of some large 
 fish, was, to say the least, no fool; the inventors of the wheel 
 
 • The Jews, against wlioni the European race in the middle ages com- 
 mitted crimes as enormous as tliose perpetrated at a later period by the same 
 race against the Africans, were driven from time to time from one or the 
 other country, that their master, whether monarch or feudal lord, might ap- 
 propriate their property to his own use. At last, these persecuted men, 
 when Philip Augustus and PhiUp the Long drove them out of France, trust- 
 ed their property to Christians in France, and when they found a resting- 
 place in Lombardy, gave to foreign mercliants and ti-avellers secret letters di- 
 rected to tlie persons who held their property in trust, drawing thereby upon 
 them. — Editor. 
 
 \ Let us never forget John Fitch, when we speak of steamboats. — 
 Editor, 
 
( 46 ) 
 
 and screw conferred as great benefits upon mankind as did 
 Fulton, but history mentions not their names, as she passes 
 over all these early and great benefactors in silence. We 
 know the bold woman who taught us to protect our children 
 against the small-pox, and Roscoe celebrates the mother who 
 dared to return to nature.* But who invented the distaff? 
 When was the complicated process of making bread com- 
 pletely discovered? Is it certain that Ctesebes contrived 
 the pump? A bold man, indeed, he must have been who 
 first conceived the idea of nailing a piece of iron to the hoof 
 of a living animal. We forget the file, the knife, the sail, 
 the rudder, when we talk of our improvements. We forget 
 what ingenuity was requisite to hit upon the idea of milk- 
 ing a cow, when the calf had given up to receive nourish- 
 ment from her. The inhabitants of South America do not 
 even now know this important art, and leave the calf with 
 the cow as long as they wish to have milk.t And yet how 
 important is a milking cow to our whole comfort. Consi- 
 der what a part milk, butter, and cheese play in our do- 
 mestic, and, hence, political economy. Think of a farm 
 without milk! Cobbet justly attaches, in his Cottage Eco- 
 nomy, the greatest value to a cow; and Finkef calls this 
 good animal, in a report, on his province, to the king, inva- 
 luable to the poor man, and he thinks that the capacity of 
 providing food for a cow, should form the standard of lawful 
 divisibility of land. You have only to observe how much a 
 
 • The Duchess of Devonshire, who nursed her child, mentioned in Ros- 
 coe's translation of the Balia. — Editor. 
 
 \ It is very frequent to see, in Soutli America, cows either with sore ud- 
 ders, because the calves having already teeth, injure them in sucking, or 
 with very small udders, because they are left in a natural state, in wliich 
 cows have not much larger udders than mares. — Editor, 
 
 t Von Finke, a distinguished Prussian statesman, is President of West- 
 phalia. The work to which the author alludes, must be, "Report to 
 the Minister of the Interior on the Division of Farms and Splitting up of real 
 Estates in tlie Province of Westphalia, in 1824." Mr. Von Finke is known, 
 also, by a work on the domestic government of Great Britain, edited by Nie- 
 buhr, the historian, Berlin, 1815. — Editoh. 
 
( 47 ) 
 
 milking cow is valued by a family, especially where there are 
 children; how parents feel a real gratitude towards "the good 
 old animal/' " the old lady," how every member of the fa- 
 mily takes an interest in her meals. — And, then, who can 
 name the inventor of that sweetest of all things, sleep, to- 
 ward whom Sancho, the wise fool, felt such intense grati- 
 tude. Ah, honest Panza, if thou wert here, in our summer, 
 thou wouldst not say " Sleep covers a man all over like a 
 cloak;" its covering capacity hardly exceeds that of a short 
 pea-jacket. 
 
 The Delaware has always been to me the picture of gentle 
 peace and calm enjoyment. Its banks are low, nothing 
 striking appears to you whilst you glide along; but as far 
 as you can see back into the country you behold cultivated 
 land and fine vegetation. Many farmers here are quakers, 
 and capital farmers they make. You should see their neat 
 wives with their clean and polished vessels and nicely kept 
 produce in the Philadelphia market. It must be a pleasure to 
 buy butter from them ; you imagine all the neatness that pre- 
 pared it. Some parts of the Delaware present very fine pic- 
 tures, for instance when you cross from Burlington to Bristol, 
 but I promised no description of my journey ; I write in my 
 own way, and must be allowed to meander about. There is a 
 rail-road at present between Bordentown and Amboy through 
 New Jersey, whose sand reminds me of my native Mark 
 Brandenburg. This is not the only artificial communication 
 between the Delaware and the New York waters. I send you 
 a map of Pennsylvania and New York, from which you will 
 see that there are several canals and rail-roads which connect 
 or will connect the eastern part of Pennsylvania and New 
 Jersey with the waters around or leading to New York. 
 Look well at this map; I believe, as long as history records 
 the deeds of men, there has; never been a territory equal in 
 extent to Pennsylvania and the western part of New York, 
 where human activity and ingenuity have done equally 
 much in so short a time for internal communication; much 
 as I honor the gi'and and manifold improvements of the aa 
 
( 48 ) 
 
 cient Egyptians. Some years ago Pennsylvania alone had 
 spent twenty millions of dollars on her canals and other ar- 
 tificial means of communication. And all this is done by 
 a self-taxing people; it is not a powerful government with 
 any coercive means either over the money or the labor of 
 the people at its disposal, but a pure representative govern- 
 ment, which resolves upon these great undertakings: it is 
 a subject of pleasing contemplation. 
 
 When I first came to this country, I went from the Dela- 
 ware to the Chesapeake, across the little state of Delaware, 
 (which, not unlike the rotten boroughs of England, has pro- 
 duced more able men than, her size considered, might be 
 expected,) in a confounded and confounding stage-coach. 
 A few years later I had to go again to Washington, and 
 found a canal cut through Delaware state, and got on very 
 comfortably; a year or so later, I crossed the same state on 
 a rail-road; now I wait impatiently for a passage over the 
 state, for aerial navigation is the next in order, all other 
 means being exhausted. An American distinguishes him- 
 self from the inhabitants of all other countries by a rest- 
 lessness, a striving and driving onward, without which this 
 country would never have shot up in such an unexampled 
 growth, and which opens to thousands of men, possessed of 
 nothing but their energy, a successful career; whilst it also 
 extinguishes in many individual cases the calm enjoyment 
 of what they have and possess, a disposition the very op- 
 posite of that which gives to the Italian such deep enjoy- 
 ment in his dolce far niente. So strangely are we con- 
 stituted ! Have the one, and you must resign the other. 
 The same disposition which, in this country, renders the 
 word enterprising a most popular and laudatory epithet, 
 and which leads a Daniel Boone* farther and farther to 
 the west, or guides a small Nev/ England craft to the New 
 
 * Not alone young- men and poor emigrants seek the distant West; many 
 families in comfoi-table circumstances leave the places where they have en- 
 joyed all the pleasures of social intercourse, and to which they are tied by 
 all the bonds which usually fix a man in life, and proceed to the fertile 
 
( 49 ) 
 
 Shetland Islands, where her crew chase the seal, and from 
 whence they sail for London, because they happen to hear 
 that the market for their skins will be best there — this same 
 disposition makes the American little satisfied with what he 
 has, and therefore little fit for the calm enjoyment of any 
 thing; while, on the other hand, the turn of mind which 
 makes the Roman blacksmith look out of his shop door, 
 turn round to his hands with — " boys, let's go to Monte 
 Testaccio," and then send for a coach into which he jumps 
 with his journeymen and all, and dance and drink away the 
 afternoon happy as a child: that same disposition makes 
 him dance in rags and sleep in a bouse that is no home. 
 But if one or the other must be, give me, I say, the many 
 the striving, enterprising man. There is, besides, a happi- 
 ness in toiling and braving of difRculties. Who rules? the 
 Babylonian on his couch or the Mede? The Mede or the 
 hardy Persian? The degenerated Persian or the stirring Ma- 
 cedonian and enterprising Greek? Voluptuous Asia or manly 
 Rome? The luxurious inhabitant of the south, or the ac- 
 tive Englishman? 
 
 An American cannot make a piece of machinery, twice, 
 precisely the same; he endeavors always to improve, some- 
 times merely to change. How beneficial an influence this dis- 
 position must, on the whole, exert on all mechanical and ma- 
 terial affairs, you can easily imagine; it has a different effect 
 upon those subjects which lie beyond the sphere of the 
 mere material world. Often sufficient time for necessary 
 development is not allowed to an institution; its roots have 
 
 plains of Illinois and Missotiri, which they have yet to clear, and where they 
 have to begin with the log-hut. It was but lately that a friend of mine, a 
 gentleman bom and bred in one of the largest cities of the Union, who is 
 highly esteemed by his fellow citizens whom he represented repeatedly in 
 Congress, whose family enjoyed the best standing, wlio is " fallen into the 
 sear, the yellow leaf," who had a most agreeable country seat and a farm 
 conducted on the best principles, warranted by his own experience, — broke 
 up his establishment and set off with his whole family for Illinois. It is an 
 instance which could not possibly happen any where but in the United 
 States. — EniTon. 
 
 7 
 
( 50 ) 
 
 hardly begun to spread, when changes are begun. This is 
 owing also to the peculiar situation of Americans in a new 
 country which calls continually for the application of new 
 forces, and which leads them to look upon changes and no- 
 velties in a totally different light from that in which they 
 would appear to the inhabitant of an old European state. But 
 as to the improvement of the material world the beneficial 
 influence of this disposition cannot be doubted,, especially as 
 the Americans are as great hands for division of mechanical 
 labor as they are for uniting the different branches of mental 
 labor. A few days ago I found out at my book-binder's that 
 the gilding and marbling of books is done by men who do 
 nothing else, and not by the book-binder himself. The same 
 is done in England; I never heard of it on the continent. 
 So do the butchers occupy themselves with killing but one 
 and the same species of animals.. Pork butchers I have 
 found in many countries entirely separated from the others, 
 but here we have veal, mutton, beef and pork butchers, — 
 each separate from the other. A farmer rarely sends his 
 own wheat to the mill to be ground for his domestic use; 
 he sells all his produce to the miller, and buys flour for 
 his own family wherever he finds it most convenient. This 
 is at least the case in all parts of the wheat-growing states, 
 where large mills exist, and a considerable trade in flour is 
 carried on. Speaking of division of labor, I must tell you 
 an instance of its consolidation, which I think is too good 
 to be lost. " Give me a good anecdote," I say with Sir 
 Horace Walpole. 
 
 There was formerly in Havana a certain Thomas Ni- 
 chols of Worcestershire, England, who kept a boarding- 
 house. In addition, he was undertaker, and made the cof- 
 fins himself. When a foreigner landed, old Nichols would 
 shrewdly scrutinize his face; if it betrayed a bilious dis- 
 position, or otherwise seemed to give a fair chance of the 
 stranger paying his sad toll, by way of yellow fever, for a 
 passage into the other world, Tom would slyly steal behind 
 him and measure his length with his cane, precisely three 
 feet long; the rest of the measure he took with his eye, 
 
( 51 ) 
 
 and if his store happened to be out of coffins of the requi- 
 site size, he was quick in filling up the gap. Was he not a 
 Wdlkyrie incarnate?* A friend of mine was once dragging 
 himself along, half dead, in the streets of Havana, when 
 he discovered Nichols busy about him. " Out of the way 
 with you, you bird of death," exclaimed my friend, when 
 the ever-ready coffin provider replied, with the best na- 
 tured smile imaginable, " Why, Mr. Smith, you know very 
 well you will not die a moment the sooner for my mea- 
 suring you. It is not only an innocent precaution, but a 
 necessary one; sometimes I have not sufficient hands to get 
 a coffin ready as quick as gentlemen might require after 
 dying in this climate." — But I have not been correct in the 
 order in which I should have stated Nichols' various em- 
 ployments. He served as nurse to patients of the yellow 
 fever, and physicked you like a good fellow if you trusted 
 yourself to his care. He made the coffin, as I stated, he 
 digged the grave, and lastly, he read the English Church 
 service over you. In health, sickness, or death, he pro- 
 vided for )^ou; his faithful companionship survived you. 
 What a Hofimannlt In Prussia a physician is not per- 
 mitted usually to provide his patient with medicine; how 
 would Nichols have fared there! In 1832, when the cho- 
 lera raged in Havana, Tom died of this disease, and ex- 
 pressed on his death-bed great regret at being obliged to 
 make his exit just in so fine a season, of which his suc- 
 cessor would reap all the benefit. J 
 
 • Walkyries were in Northern mythology the stern beings who, before 
 battle, designated those who should fall. A Scald represents them as fear- 
 ful and cruel, but we find them as beautiful virgins, for whom the heroes 
 pine, because they lead to Walhalla, the heaven of the brave. — Editor. 
 
 ■j- Ernest Theodore Amadeus Hoffmann, a Prussian, whose works have 
 lately been translated from the German into French, was at different periods 
 judge, leader of the orchestra, author, composer, and painter. The dis- 
 turbed state of his country, caused by Napoleon's conquest, gave rise to his 
 many metamorphoses, — Editor. 
 
 \ Incredible as this account of Thomas Nichols sounds, we can testify to 
 its truth. He was a character notorious among tlie foreigners in Havana. May 
 
( 52 ) 
 
 Before I conclude this letter, it maybe worth while to men- 
 tion the method now in use of transferring baggage from the 
 steamboat to the rail-way. The baggage on coming upon the 
 boat is placed in a large wooden machine, closed on all 
 sides, but made of frame work, and thus admitting a view 
 of the interior; and is then carefully secured. When the 
 landing place is arrived at, the whole is bodily transferred 
 by means of a crane, to a four-wheeled stage standing upon 
 the road itself, when the whole moves off with the rest of 
 the cars. When the cars arrive at the other boat, another 
 crane moves the baggage again from the car to the steam- 
 boat, so that there is no danger of loss or delay. But a few 
 years ago baggage was removed from the steamboat by means 
 of wheelbarrows, then by a little wagon drawn by men, and 
 lastly, by the present expeditious mode. 
 
 I will now describe the approach to New York city by 
 water, from Philadelphia. About three-quarters of a mile off 
 from Castle Garden, a prospect presents itself of rare beauty 
 and interest: you have at once before you a view up the wide 
 and noble Hudson, with its high and majestic bank to the 
 west, and the numerous masts along its eastern bank, down 
 toward the sea, over the quarantine ground, and the beautiful 
 bay out to where the sharp line of the horizon bounds the 
 plain of vision; Avhilst the charming and well-wharved bat- 
 tery lies right before you, with its regular walks and fine 
 
 he, who was so careful about the length of the cofRn of others, have found 
 one of proper measure, that he may rest in peace. 
 
 As the author indulges in telling anecdotes, the editor may be perhaps 
 permitted to contribute another. We were present on a new year's day in 
 Germany, when, according to custom, the grave-digger entered with other 
 trades-people the room of a gentleman to "congratulate " him, and receive in 
 return what is called his " congratulation fee " or present. " May you live 
 many years," said the man of odious profession, making a deep bow. "You 
 tell a lie," said the gentleman, "you wish me dead most heartily." " I beg 
 your pardon," replied the pohte grave-digger^ "those last wages cannot 
 escape me, and the longer you live the longer do I continue to receive my con- 
 gratulation fee." The scene bad some Shakspearc-like irony about it — 
 
 EVITOB. 
 
( 53 ) 
 
 foliage, through which may be seen a crescent of neat houses, 
 and close alongside, innumerable masts on the western side 
 of the Sound,* while, on the eastern shore, rises a steep 
 bank crowded with the houses of a busy sister-city. To 
 your right, somewhat in the rear, you have Staten-island 
 with her gently sloping hills, capped with country-seats; to 
 your left, the Jereey shores, with smaller bays and inlets, 
 and another city; and all the three waters strewed with ves- 
 sels of all sizes and destinations, some slowly ploughing the 
 waves, all sails set, alow and aloft, with a drowsy breeze, 
 some speeded by man's ingenuity, some riding and resting 
 at anchor in the stream, some in the service of peaceful com- 
 merce, some with a heavy burden of metal; some are coming 
 up from the narrows after a long passage; you can see it by 
 the rust which the sea has washed from the iron of the 
 shrouds, and which now stains her sides as she comes from 
 beyond one of the distant fellow-capes, thrown out into the 
 sea to mark where the Atlantic ceases; here you perceive 
 some as they are towed down by the steamboat, there you 
 see the schooners beating up the river, with their large can- 
 vass, like wide-winged gulls, at a distance, so many in num- 
 ber that they are spread out like the tents of an Arabian camp 
 on the even surface; here are the heavy-laden Indiaman, 
 the racing packet, the nimble cutter, from the Chesapeake, 
 the gazelle of the waters, and the fleet and eager newsboat, 
 defying even the swift pilot, with his inclining masts, and 
 sailing closer to the wind than vessel ever did before, and 
 the skiffs of the fishermen, the flat bark of the patient oys- 
 ter-man, and the buoyant yacht to carry buoyant youths; 
 and between all these vessels move the quick ferries, like 
 busy spiders, to and fro. It is, indeed, an enchanting sight! 
 What man loves and what he dares; nature in all her fulness, 
 
 * Properly speaking, this is not the Sound but the East river, but we sup- 
 pose the author chose to extend, in this passage, the name of Sound thus 
 far, as "western side of East river, on the eastern side," &c., would have 
 sounded too statistical. — Editob. 
 
( 54 ) 
 
 freedom, and grandeur, and nature, tamed by man — all is 
 here collected on one spot. 
 
 I know many cities that surround their harbors: New 
 York is the only one which is surrounded by its harbor — a 
 port-encompassed city, which sits proudly throned on her 
 projecting island, and allows the rolling billow of the sea to 
 kiss her feet, whilst the splendid river hastens to lay at her 
 footstool the produce of the farthest west; the furs entrapped 
 and hunted by the wild Indian, and the wheat gathered from 
 the fields which reward with bountiful fertility the labor of 
 the active white man. Around her wave, between the many 
 stars and stripes, the welcome colors of all nations, whose 
 knowledge teaches them to cross the ocean; and what dis- 
 tant countries send from all climes to this chosen queen of 
 the waters, she distributes among the many crafts, winged 
 with sails and finned with wheels, which await her orders 
 to carry it thousands of miles into the deepest and the dis- 
 tant west. Europe, Africa, Asia, and the isles of all the 
 seas are spread out for her commerce; daily to those remote 
 shores speed the fleet messengers of the waters; to the south 
 of our own hemisphere, to our western shore, where the 
 Columbia, the Mississippi's mate, empties its mighty vo- 
 lumes, to barter with the red man ; or on the watery desert, 
 among the fearful crystal isles, tj pursue the giant of the 
 sea along the jealous shores of J^Da i^ or, farther still, to the 
 icy pole, where Asia and America meet, as if in obedience to 
 the sceptre of the European Autocrat, swayed over three parts 
 of the world. What flourishes in the burning regions of the 
 south, or dwells in the waters of the highest north, what 
 the rude African gathers or the industrious European con- 
 trives or refines, is carried to her over the vast ocean, which 
 opens her the way to all marts of the world, and over which 
 she sends, in all directions, our proud and cheering flag, so 
 that the Indian of the Ganges and the Chinese on the Taho 
 know it as familiarly as the islanders of the South Sea, the 
 Californian, as well as the swarthy man of Guinea; over 
 which her vessels glide to carry assistance to the helpless 
 
( 55 ) 
 
 sufferers of the Cape Verd Isles, or the seeds of knowledge 
 to regenerated Greece,* and by means of which we com- 
 mune with Europe's art and Europe's science. 
 
 The Hudson river is generally called North river, in con- 
 tradistinction to the East river, which is the name employed 
 to denote the beginning of the sound between Long Island 
 and the continent. I think it would be better to leave to 
 that grand river its specific name; we have in America ge- 
 neric names applied to species or used as nouns proper quite 
 enough: yellow bird, black bird, blue bird, red bird, green 
 mountains, blue mountains, rocky mountains, shallow river, 
 yellow river, red river, flat river, highlands, there is no end 
 to them. It is natural in so new a country, where innume- 
 ble new objects offer themselves to the attention, and which is 
 occupied by a race that has passed that infantine stage which 
 easily coiTupts names, originally generic, into nouns proper. 
 The time, when man " gives names to all cattle, and to the 
 fowls of the air, and to every beast of the field," and to ri- 
 vers, islands, mountains, and countries, belongs only to that 
 period of a nation, in which people are satisfied if they make 
 themselves understood, without much regard to correctness; 
 since rules are not yet settled. 
 
 First, a generic name is given, gradually it is corrupted, 
 and the corruption grows at length into a specific name or 
 noun proper. Occasionally, this takes place at later periods, 
 e. g. the French Charlesquint, and frequently it is even now 
 effected by the illiterate, especially the English and American 
 sailors. Some time or other, I shall give you a whole letter, 
 on the subject of names in the United States and other parts 
 of the world: It is a subject of great interest to me. As to 
 the Hudson, it is somewhat strange that, in common par- 
 lance, he is deprived of his proper name, and the prosaic, in- 
 sipid title of North river is substituted, whilst the wretched 
 .Goose-creek at Washington was honored with the name of 
 
 • Printing-presses and school-books, in modem Greek, have been car- 
 ried from the United States to Greece. — Editor. 
 
( 56 ) 
 
 Tiber, with which it has indeed something in common, 
 but, unfortunately, only its muddy appearance. But Moore 
 has treated of this folly sufficiently. There seems to be a 
 general disposition among men to make a great noise about 
 small rivers. Gongora, the Spaniard, calls the river of Madrid 
 the Duke of Rivers and Viscount of Streams. Very poetic! 
 
 Manganares, Man5anares 
 Os que en todo el aguatismo 
 Estois Duque de AiToyos, 
 Y Visconde de los Rios.* 
 
 If I remember aright, the city of Turin is styled Her Ex- 
 cellency. If the Manganares is duke, what shall we think 
 of the Hudson, the Rhine? They are royal highnesses at 
 least, and at that rate the Mississippi, Oronoco, and Ama- 
 zon rivers, deserve the imperial crown. I should suppose 
 Gongora would call the Himelaya, pope of mountains or, 
 better still, a council of peaks; and how tender it would 
 sound to call a rivulet, in a pastoral, sweet, murmuring, gen- 
 tle Monsieur de , or limpid hidalgo, transparent baro- 
 net; every brook and puddle might be knighted, and we, to 
 remain republican, might say in future Squire Schuylkill, 
 Captain Raritan, Judge Kennebec, General Goose-creek, or 
 the Honorable Ohio. As in the olden times of Greece, when 
 " every tree its driad had ;" we would animate all nature around 
 us, and make, at once, out of these utilitarian times a most 
 poetic age. 
 
 • Manjanares, Man^anares, thou who in all water-dom (this would be a 
 correct translation of aguaiismo, and we believe as good a word — the dic- 
 tionaries have it not,) art the duke of rivers and viscount of streams. — Edi- 
 
 tor. 
 
( 57 ) 
 
 LETTER IV, 
 
 At my landing on the wharf in New York, I found seve- 
 ral groups of German emigrants, just arrived from Europe. 
 Some of them looked pretty well dressed, and showed that 
 they had come with sufficient means to proceed immediately 
 to the west and to settle there ; others, who looked very poor, 
 had first to go through the ordeal of a poor emigrant, who is 
 obliged, for want of means, to tarry in or about a large city, 
 where he is, of course, exposed to the miseries inherent to a 
 residence in a populous, foreign place, without any means of 
 independence, and often becomes a prey to swindlers, with 
 numbers of whom, as you may well imagine, they meet among 
 their own countrymen, worthless fellows who have arrived 
 long before them, and know all the ways of robbing these poor 
 and helpless creatures of their last farthing. I know it from 
 many of my acquaintances in New York, who belong to a 
 charitable society, one of the objects of which is to assist 
 destitute emigrants, that one of the great dangers which 
 await the latter in that city is, their falling into the hands 
 of certain boarding house keepers of their own nation (of 
 course only certain of these,) who strip the poor families 
 of every thing they had the good luck to be able to bring 
 along with them; like wolf-dogs they are the enemies of 
 their own species.* A German emigrant generally re- 
 mains in a large city only as long as he cannot help it; his 
 
 * In Brazil, retail dealers in slaves are always colored people, and colored 
 drivei-s on plantations are the severest toward their fellow-negroes. — Editoh. 
 
 8 
 
( 58 ) 
 
 great and laudable desire is always to get a farm and to 
 own it. The Irish are, in this respect, very different; they 
 prefer the cities, and wherever you meet with a popu- 
 lous place in the United States — I do not only speak of the 
 Atlantic cities, but also of those in the interior, such as Al- 
 bany, Utica, Cincinnati, Louisville — you are sure to find a 
 great number of poor Irish in and about it. The German, as 
 I said, pushes on; if he has not the means to proceed imme- 
 diately to the west, and must take his temporary abode in a 
 large place, it is only in order to save, as soon as he possi- 
 bly can, the requisite sum to carry him and his family to 
 those parts of the Union where land is cheap and fertile. 
 Here again he has not, perhaps, the means to purchase a few 
 acres, though government sells public lands for the low 
 price of one dollar and twenty-five cents per acre. If this 
 is the case he will first work for another farmer, never, how- 
 ever, losing sight of his main object, the having of a farm to 
 himself. As soon as he has it, he loves it as a German troop- 
 er loves his horse;* it becomes his "all in all," so that he 
 
 • The German farmer loves Ws farm sometimes to the disadvantage of 
 his own family. In some parts of Pennsylvania the love of the farm has de- 
 generated, it might be said, into a kind of mania. You can find there bams 
 as large as well-sized chapels, witli glass windows and blinds; whilst in these 
 very parts little has been done for the schoellng of the people. The love 
 of the German for his horse, which, in Germany, induces him to expect by far 
 too little labor from the latter, in riding as v/eltas driving, shows itself also in 
 the German farmer of Pennsylvania. They prefer heavy horses — fine ani- 
 mals, it is tiTie, but sometimes too heavy for agriculture. Horses form, per- 
 haps, the only subject m regard to which a Germanico-Pennsylvanian farmer 
 is a prodigal. — A German treats his horse with affection. An Englishman 
 or American more like a useful thing, to the eare of which he is disposed to 
 bestow every proper attention, and, in fact, he works harder for it than the 
 German; an Italian or Frenchman is hard, often cruel, to his horse; a Greek 
 treats his beast shamefully. — We remember having seen, when a child, 
 French cavalrists, who, unable to follow their regiments, because their horses 
 were galled, and preferring to stay in a large city to field duty, rubbed the 
 backs of their horses with a brick, to make them sore again. A German ca- 
 valrist could not have possibly done it. — Editor. 
 
( 59 ) 
 
 sometimes forgets the proper mental education of his off- 
 spring. Scotch emigrants, I imagine, generally arrive here 
 provided with sufficient means to begin farming immedi- 
 ately; and it is very interesting to see how the Scotch and 
 Germans, — among whom I count the Alsacians, since they 
 are French in a political sense only, always show their na- 
 tional predilections wherever the wide west offers them a 
 fair chance of displaying it. The Scotch uniformly select 
 hilly parts of the country; and dearly love their dairies; 
 Germans prefer the water side, they settle upon land bor- 
 dering upon rivers and creeks. 
 
 You can judge from what I have said how valuable Ger- 
 man emigrants are to our country, if they mingle with the 
 Anglo-American race. " They are sober, industrious, and 
 excellent farmers," is the universal testimony given of them. 
 I have found that of all nations with which I have become ac- 
 quainted by personal observation, none has, at home, less of 
 a money-making disposition than the inhabitant of the inte- 
 rior of Germany. Although he always endeavors to save, 
 to " lay by," as it is called, he seems very generally to en- 
 tertain the idea that an acute attention to gain by methods 
 of speculation has something not quite honorable about it, 
 except in a merchant, and, again, as all he has, has often 
 been acquired by frugality and economy, he is not very 
 ready to part with it.* He has not that pride in the ap- 
 
 • In this, as in many other respects, the German and American charac- 
 ters are directly opposed: the German, partly from a want of practical sense, 
 partly from an enthusiasm peculiar to his nation, and partly because the 
 political state of his country does not admit the freest play for his indus- 
 try, is satisfied with a moderate gain, without continually endeavoring' to 
 discover how more might be obtained. If he have the money he is slow 
 in spending it; a saving disposition is universally recommended and taught 
 as a virtue; and the invariable desire of a German to leave something sub- 
 stantial to his children confirms him still more in a frugal disposition. The 
 American, wide awake to gain of all kinds, is also ready to spend it freely, 
 when he has made it; his house, dress, &c., must be of fine quality. This can 
 be accounted for by many reasons: first of all, the field for energy and in- 
 dustry in the United States is so great, that there is little doubt of any man's 
 
( 60 ) 
 
 pearance of domestic and substantial comfort, of which the 
 English race is possessed, that has given rise with them 
 to tlie development of so many resources of national wealth, 
 and has so greatly promoted their feeling of independence 
 and civil liberty, which, however, not unfrequently de- 
 generates into mere ostentation. This disposition of the 
 German has free scope to show itself in the United States, 
 especially as you must add to the effect of his rational 
 education, that in the case of the poorer sort of emigrant 
 — which constitutes the greater part — the pleasure, and 
 a pleasure it is indeed, which a man finds in accumu- 
 lating property for the first time in his life, property that 
 he can truly, without any reservation, call his own. This 
 great pleasure is founded upon the original principle, 
 the inextinguishable desire of property, which has been 
 planted deep in our breast, to make it a foundation of all 
 civilization — the anxious wish " to see our own wheat fall 
 under our own reaping-hook." The first fifty livres we 
 are able to save are not only, as Rousseau says, half of our 
 fortune, — were it that of a Girard or a Rothschild — but 
 they are, also, partly on this very account, the pleasanter 
 half. When a poor German arrives here, it gives him in- 
 finite pleasure to be able to lay by some of his earnings, 
 and as it is not possible for him to realize immediately the 
 idea of credit, banking, &c., his savings must needs be in 
 silver, in shining dollars. He thinks silver is the only 
 true money, as it is the only one with which he was ac- 
 quainted in his native country, and as it represents to the 
 eye, in a way more pleasing and more suited to his com- 
 prehension, the sum which he has been able to save. When 
 
 success, if he has acquired a sound education, mental and moral. Again, the 
 absence of privileged classes, incites many people to elevate themselves, in 
 matters of appeyrance, to the level of others, from whom, in Europe, they 
 would be perfectly willing to keep a respectful dis ance; this, and the idea of a 
 gentlemanlike appearance, so peculiar to the English race, and of so mixed a 
 character, contribute considerably, we have little doubt, to produce the result 
 in question. — Euitob. 
 
( 61 ) 
 
 I lived in Boston, German laborers of the glass-works in 
 that city would often bring me some money tied up in a 
 handkerchief, that I might save it for them. They would 
 not only reject my advice to deposite it in the savings-bank, 
 a safe institution if ever there was a safe place of deposite 
 any where, where they might have got interest, because, they 
 said, " they would receive, for all their money, nothing but 
 a little book;" they would not even allow me to change their 
 money for bank-notes, in order to preserve my trust with 
 more convenience to myself, so that I was, from actual want 
 of room, forced to decline acting any longer as their treasu- 
 rer. One day an honest German tailor came to me with a 
 request that I would take the trouble to transmit fifty dol- 
 lars of his hard earning to his jDOor mother in Germany. It 
 would have given me real pleasure to assist him in so praise- 
 worthy a work; I had done similar services to others before, 
 but when, in the course of his inquiries, he learned that I 
 should never send the self-same money, — consisting of all 
 kinds of coins — that he held in his hand, far into the interior 
 of Germany, to some village in Baden, where his mother 
 resided, but only a draft, upon presenting which his mother 
 should receive the money from a gentleman in Carlsruhe, 
 he began to shake his head and said, " he would think about 
 it;" in the course of the day he returned to take his money 
 back. It was utterly impossible for me to represent the 
 matter to him in its proper light. 
 
 You find, therefore, very frequently, that German emi- 
 grants save their money, without reaping any interest. 
 Sometimes, if a German dies, his heirs will find some little 
 bag, a stocking perchance, in some hidden corner of the 
 garret, filled with the delightful metal which made Byron 
 so eloquent, and gave the Dey of Algiers, as Niebuhr the 
 elder relates, every evening the greatest pleasure of which 
 he was susceptible, when, placed in a box before him, he 
 could dig in it with both hands and let it run through his 
 open fingers. I think there must be a chemical affinity be- 
 tween man's nerves and gold and silver. Can cowries ever 
 
( 62 ) 
 
 delight as much as shining metal? Would man commit the 
 grossest incongruities for beaver-skins or mats, though a le- 
 gal tender? 
 
 The Germans, as I said, form a most valuable addition to 
 our population, when mingled with the great predominant 
 race inhabiting the northern part of this continent. When- 
 ever colonists settle among a different nation, in such num- 
 bers and so closely together that they may live on among 
 themselves, without intermixture with the original inhabi- 
 tants, a variety of inconveniences will necessarily arise. 
 Living in an isolated state, the current of civilization of 
 the country in which they live does not reach them; and 
 they are equally cut off from that of their mother country: 
 mental stagnation is the consequence. They remain a fo- 
 reign element, an ill-joined part of the great machinery of 
 which they still form, and needs must form a part. Some- 
 times, indeed, particular circumstances may alter the view 
 of the case. When the French Protestant colonists were 
 received into Prussia, it was perhaps judicious to allow them, 
 for example in Berlin, to form for a time a community for 
 themselves, to have their own jurisdiction, schools and 
 churches, because they were more perfect in many branches 
 of industry than the people among whom they settled; and, 
 had they been obliged to immerge forthwith, this skill, so 
 desirable to those who received them, might have been lost. 
 At present, however, they too are immerged in the mass of 
 the population; besides, the inconvenience arising from their 
 forming a separate community was never very great, since 
 they were few in number and belonged by their professions 
 to the better educated classes. But take an example in the 
 Hussites who settled in Germany; remember the Bohe- 
 mian village near Berlin, called Rixdorf, the inhabitants 
 of which obstinately refused intermarrying with Germans, 
 and many of whom, until very recently, continued to 
 speak Bohemian only. Those, therefore, who lately pro- 
 posed to form a whole German state in our west, ought to 
 weigh well their project before they set nbout it, if ever 
 
( 63 ) 
 
 it should become possible to put this scheme into prac- 
 tice, which I seriously doubt. " Ossification," as the Ger- 
 mans call it, would be the unavoidable consequence. These 
 colonists would be unable, though they might come by 
 thousands and tens of thousands, to develop for themselves 
 German literature, German language, German law, German 
 science, German art; every thing would remain stationary 
 at the point where it was when they brought it over from 
 the mother country, and within less than fifty years our colo- 
 ny would degenerate into an antiquated, ill-adapted element 
 of our great national system, with which, sooner or later, 
 it must assimilate. What a voluntary closing of the eyes to 
 light, would it be, for a colony among people of the Angli- 
 can race, — which, in point of politics, has left every other 
 race far behind, — to strive to insolate itself. 
 
 You cannot refer with propriety to Graecia Magna as a 
 proof of the contrary. As large as Greece herself, close to 
 the mother country, and within ear shot of no other lan- 
 guage, — Grajcia Magna would rather compare to the United 
 States themselves with reference to England, than to an iso- 
 lated colony of the kind in question. Nor could you pro- 
 perly instance Marseilles, This was a commercial colony, 
 united to the mother country by the sea. All these formed 
 no part of another nation, among whom their inhabitants 
 had settled. Louisiana proves what I say, and would still 
 more so, had it not a lively seaport, by which it keeps up 
 a constant connexion with Europe; though I allow, that the 
 great ease with which this originally foreign state has never- 
 theless been made to enter into our whole national system has 
 also struck me as a phenomenon deserving the greatest atten- 
 tion. There are large counties in Pennsylvania which prove 
 what I say. So little are they carried along in the general 
 course of the surrounding parts, that they even are disin- 
 clined to promote instruction. 
 
 Quite a difierent question it is, whether German emi- 
 grants sought to preserve the knowledge of German lan- 
 guage, and German education in general among them. By all 
 
( 64 ) 
 
 means! Have schools in which both German and English 
 are taught. Nothing is easier than to learn from infancy- 
 two languages at once, and few things are more important 
 than the knowledge of two languages, especially if the one 
 besides the native idiom is the German. Whilst in most 
 sciences more is to be learnt through the medium of this 
 language, it is more difficult than the idioms which belong 
 to the Latin stock, and it is well to overcome the difficulty- 
 early, when, in fact, it appears to the pliant mind of a child 
 as no difficulty at all. 
 
 I saw something whilst looking at these emigrants in New 
 York of which I had not been reminded since I had left the 
 European continent ****** So you may see 
 in Italy, Spain, France, and, though very rarely, at times 
 in Germany, the friendly service performed by the lowest 
 classes in the streets, of freeing one another from uninvited 
 personal attendants. 
 
 I will mention to you a fact, one of those apparent- 
 ly trifling, yet characteristic facts, which ought never to 
 pass by unnoticed, that so long as I have been in Eng- 
 land or the United States I have never seen that peculiar 
 movement of the shoulders and upper parts of the body 
 which indicates a molestation by those animals with which 
 Marius said the then Roman state was infested, when he 
 coarsely, but justly, compared it to a ragged cloak found by 
 a peasant on the road. England has not only succeeded in 
 freeing herself from wolves and boars, but also other ani- 
 mals of prey, nearer man. And believe me, British clean- 
 liness is intimately connected with British strength and 
 beauty, British liberty, British public welfare and industry, 
 both as consequence and cause, just as Neapolitan, Portu- 
 guese, and Russian sloth is closely connected with the civil 
 worthlessness of those nations. But I am getting upon one 
 of my hobbies, the great importance of national cleanliness, 
 and — therefore, shall forthwith break off. 
 
 In like manner as I was astonished when I saw the worn- 
 down, weather-beaten, ruined figures of the Moreote wo- 
 
( (i5 ) 
 
 men, and compared it with that of the German peasant wo- 
 man, so the brown, care-worn faces, the bent figures, the 
 muscular arms and dark hands, the soiled dresses of the 
 poorer sort of the female German emigrants surprised me 
 to-day, when comparing the latter to the women of this 
 country. They look like other beings: verily, verily one 
 feels inclined to stop and meditate upon those governments, 
 which, though they have acted for centuries on the prin- 
 ciple that they have a right and are bound to interfere with 
 the private concerns of the subjects, yet leave such great num- 
 bers of human beings in so backward a state of civilization. 
 And I thought of the smoky huts I have seen in Mecklen- 
 burg, and the small amount and incipient state of ideas which 
 move the mind of their inhabitants. I could not help think- 
 ing of the Bohemian peasant, of the farmer in some parts of 
 France, of Russia, Poland, Portugal — what progress in any 
 branch have they made for centuries and centuries? In men- 
 tal cultivation? or in common industry or mere physical 
 comfort, or religion, or social refinement? I love science 
 from my inmost soul; establish royal academies and under- 
 take scientific expeditions, the more the better; I hail a 
 Ross, I pray for a Humboldt; but I say, while you do the 
 one, omit not the other.* To "widen the circle of ideas" 
 is undoubtedly the noblest achievement of man; but let the 
 boundaries of knowledge be widened in all directions. Do 
 not provide men merely with abundant means to run up a 
 spire of new ideas, but extend also and strengthen the foun- 
 dations; make men of men, and leave not the mass in such 
 a backward state while a few ascend to the highest regions; 
 
 * We know that tlie author sincerely regretted that the United States did 
 not do more than she does for the support of science, and did not unite, — for 
 doing which it has so abundant means, — with other gi'eat nations in the 
 ardent pursuit of knowledg-e, such as measurements, voyages of discovery, 
 support of scientific inquiries too expensive for private individuals. "Eng- 
 land," we have heard him often say, "has already two observatories in dis- 
 tant colonies, one on the Cape of Good Hope and the other on Van Dieman's 
 Land, and wc are not ashamed of nut having a single one in our own coun- 
 tiy. — Edixou. 
 
 9 
 
( fi6 ) 
 
 a few whom, you know well, I do not undervalue, and 
 whose labors I believe to be of the greatest benefit to man- 
 kind whether their utility be apparent or not. Let no man 
 stop — provided he is once in the right way, — to ask him- 
 self, "is my inquiry likely to be useful." Go on, uncon- 
 cerned about the application of knowledge thus boldly ob- 
 tained ; you add to the treasures of knowledge, and mankind 
 will most surely profit; but let not these towering inquiries 
 stand like pyramids surrounded by dreary sand — by a desert 
 of people reduced to the consumption of the smallest pos- 
 sible quantity of ideas. I am a fervent admirer of the fine 
 arts, and consider their influence upon mankind to be of the 
 utmost importance from their refining and ennobling power; 
 nay, I truly believe that this influence is of much higher im- 
 portance for the lower classes than the wealthier ones; but let 
 not the fine arts be cultivated in the style of a Justinian, of 
 whom it is said that he appropriated for a year the salary of 
 every teacher in the empire towards the erection of St. Sophia, 
 and that to cover its dome he employed the leaden pipes 
 which conveyed water to various parts of Constantinople. 
 Jerome promoted also the fine arts in Cassel, but then he 
 drained all the kingdom besides. Oh, I have known In- 
 dians, — I admit they were exceptions to their fellows, — 
 whose minds were more expanded than those of many 
 European peasants or workmen in manufactories, whom I 
 have seen particularly in the north, where nature in itself 
 offers a scantier opportunity for the development of mind 
 than the south, and where man sinks into mental torpor if 
 the life of his community does not afford him ideas to lead 
 him to reflection, and physical materials upon which to work. 
 In America you never see a woman working in the field, 
 except, yet even then but rarely, with some German or 
 Dutch farmers. I cannot describe to you how strangely it 
 appeared even to me when, on my travels, I found a German 
 woman hoeing in the field. American servants, in the north- 
 ern and middle states, are better educated than those in Eu- 
 rope, and, in general, parents need not be so much afraid 
 
( G7 ) 
 
 here as they are with you, lest their children should learn 
 their faults from them. An American servant has a more 
 independent and, consequently, a morally higher opinion of 
 himself than the servants of other countries. " Say," said 
 I one day to a servant of mine, " that I am not at home," 
 disliking exceedingly to send word to a person who wishes 
 to see me, " I am within, but unable to see you;" when she 
 answered, with perfect modesty; " I beg your pardon, but I 
 really cannot do so." I had to make a long explanation to 
 the effect that the phrase, " the gentleman is not at home," 
 means, as thus employed, either that he has actually gone 
 out or is not at home for the inquirer, and that this way of 
 giving the answer is more agreeable to the inquirer himself. 
 That this state of things has its inconveniences, I allow, but 
 who will not like being served by a being who stands before 
 you fully possessed, in his individual capacity, of his rights 
 and privileges? 
 
 All servants in the United States go better dressed, and, 
 you know, I am a great advocate of good dress. The di-ess 
 is half the man, says a German proverb, and if its intended 
 meaning be that it makes half the man as to the respect paid 
 by others, I mean that it makes half the moral man. A man 
 in clean and decent dress will generally behave himself de- 
 cently. That this better dressing has again its abuses, as all 
 things in our sublunary existence, may be readily granted, 
 especially as American women have, generally speaking, a 
 great fondness for fine dress. You will say " all women 
 have:" granted. Go out on a fine afternoon in Philadelphia, 
 and you will be astonished at the numbers of women neatly 
 and tastefully dressed even in streets which the fashionable 
 world never enters. American women have, I think, gene- 
 rally considerable tact in dressing. There are few even third 
 and fourth rate mantua-makers, in any of the larger places, 
 who have not their Felit Courrier des Dames, of Paris, in 
 order to let their customers choose the newest fashions. This 
 little code of fashions is also found in most millinary shops 
 in Cincinnati as well as in New York. I saw it in the window 
 
( fiS ) 
 
 of two shops in Buffalo. I allow, this desire oT dressing well 
 is not unfrequently carried to ruinous extravagance in the 
 larger cities, and in New York perhaps more so than in others. 
 Broadway will show you many mechanics' wives, in one after- 
 noon, dressed like the richest of the land. As there is here no 
 actual difference of classes, in apolitical sense; the reasons why 
 she shoidd not dress as many do, are often not taken into con- 
 sideration by the wife of the mechanic. Do not, however, 
 forget that this abuse, ruinous as it is, and originating in a 
 silly desire of outward show, is but another effect of the 
 same cause which produces that love of independent ease 
 and comfort, that elevates the mechanic to the rank of citi- 
 zen, which incites him to the laudable ambition of giving to 
 his children the best possible education; and which, in the 
 case of the farmer's wife, is one of the various causes which 
 raises her husband to a higher station in the United States, 
 than he any where else in the world enjoys. 
 
 I wish you could see some negro servants dressed in 
 their best. They go in heavy silks, with fashionable hats, 
 fine gloves, worked stockings, elegant parasols, lace veils; 
 some looking like caricatures, some not. The good wages 
 they receive enable them to go exceedingly well-dressed. 
 Having touched upon the subject of American women, you 
 will Avish to hear more from me on the same; since it is the 
 desire of every one to know what situation the females of a 
 country enjoy. I will endeavor to satisfy your wish as far 
 as I am able. Let me begin with saying what I shall con- 
 clude with; that I have a high respect for the American la- 
 dies, and that they fully deserve the character of great amia 
 bleness. 
 
 From what I have said, and much more indeed from your 
 personal knowledge of me, you well know that I consider 
 the proper station of woman as of the greatest importance in 
 national as well as private life. I need not dwell upon this 
 vast subject, which history elucidates with so many striking 
 examples. But it must not be forgotten that, as the woman 
 mav hold a situation too low, she may be placed in an equal- 
 
( GO ) 
 
 ly false position on the other extreme. Such was that which 
 she occupied in the higher circles of France for nearly a 
 century. When colonels were found in the antechambers 
 embroidering, and ladies took the lead in philosophy and po- 
 litics, the whole society must have been in a rather disjoint- 
 ed condition. Far be it from me to intimate that any such 
 state exists here; it would require and be the cause of in- 
 trigue, and intrigue is unknown in America.* I only mean 
 to say, that the consideration in which the women of a na- 
 tion are held is far from serving as a safe measure of its real 
 civilization — as has been vaguely though frequently asserted. 
 The woman must have her proper station; since different 
 individuals and, more particularly, different sexes, are fitted 
 to move in different spheres. 
 
 It is a good and very beneficial trait of the Americans, 
 that they hold women in great esteem. An American is 
 never rude to a woman; let a single woman travel from Phi- 
 ladelphia to Cincinnati, and if she be of respectable appear- 
 ance, she will not only meet with no molestation on her 
 way, but very soon some gentleman or other will take her un- 
 der his protection, and she may proceed with perfect safety. 
 The consequence is that many vexy respectable females, of 
 course not ladies of the higher circles, travel alone in the 
 United States. Nay, if those who have no claim to a re- 
 spectful treatment move from place to place for the same 
 reasons as many females proceed to the Leipzig fair, they as- 
 sume invariably a respectable appearance, without inconve- 
 niencing that part of the company, unacquainted with their 
 history. 
 
 The Americans are not a race of French agility, and, 
 therefore, cannot be expected to show that pliant politeness 
 
 * At least it is so totally and decidedly discountenanced in its slig-htcst ap- 
 pearance, that, as to bad example, it can be said not to exist, and can, in re- 
 ality, exist but in a very slight degree in the largest cities; and as the highest 
 circles wliich, in all social intercourse, will always take the lead, are proba- 
 bly the freest from it, you will very properly conclude, that the evil cannot 
 exist to any great degree, in fact, far less than in any other country. 
 
( 70 ) 
 
 loward women which depends, in a great degree, upon this 
 peculiar quality; they are not easily excitable, and, conse- 
 quently, not versatile in conversation; they, therefore, can- 
 not show that quick politeness which depends upon this in- 
 ventive brightness of the moment; but they are essentially 
 and substantially polite, ready to serve a woman, of what- 
 ever class, and to show the greatest regard to the female 
 sex in general. You probably recollect the doleful story 
 which Mr. Stuart relates of his back seat in the stage-coach, 
 I do not doubt his account in the least; it is in perfect keep- 
 ing. I have seen a hundred times a woman enter a stage-coach, 
 wait, without saying a word of apology, until a gentleman 
 had removed from a back seat, and then, with equal silence, 
 place herself in the vacated situation. Here I must observe 
 that, in my opinion, an American lady accepts with greater 
 nonchalance any act of politeness, than the women of other 
 countries; by which they imprudently deprive their social 
 life of much of its charm. A smile, a friendly glance, a 
 gentle word — who cares for holding the stirrup if he cannot 
 expect thus much.* Yet, as you may imagine, there are many 
 sweet and lovely exceptions. Women belonging to the in- 
 dustrial classes in America, I have observed to be, in com- 
 parison with those of a similar rank in other countries, par- 
 ticularly imperturbable by politeness, perhaps owing to a 
 certain shyness, and, perhaps, it is more observed because 
 you are brought more into contact with people of all classes 
 in this country than in others; for here all the world travels, 
 
 * An anecdote, by way of illustration. The manuscript of a part of this 
 work, containing the description of the author's adventures in the battle of 
 Waterloo, was lent to a lady, and a most sprightly one, too, who returned it, 
 after having perused it, without a line or even a message, though she declared 
 afterwards, that she had read it with intense interest, and showed, in fact, 
 that such was the case. We immediately told her that we should be obliged 
 to give an account of her parsimony in writing, which hereby we have done.* 
 — Editor. 
 
 * Before the proof sheet went out of our hands, we received the sweetest note imagi- 
 nable, from the lady above, now an amiable penitent, and our great veneration for tlie 
 Jadies of America, obliges us to add this fact, however the worthy printer may grum- 
 
( 71 ) 
 
 the richest, and the poorest, the blackest and the whitest.* 
 How often have I handed a lady into tlie stage-coach, or 
 picked up a handkerchief, or handed her some dish at din- 
 ner, when travelling, without receiving as much as a word 
 in return. 
 
 I met lately with a pleasing instance of the regard paid 
 to the female sex in the United States. A separate place 
 has been appropriated to the delivery of letters to females, 
 in New York, and an editor noticing this arrangement and 
 approving of it, suggests the propriety of having an awning 
 or covering of some description to protect the applicants 
 from the sun. Of course, only women who have no servants 
 to send, or no home so fixed that the carrier may take the 
 letters to them, go in propria persona to the post-office, and 
 for them was this considerate arrangement made. Was it not 
 Mirabeau who said that he felt as if he should fall on his knees 
 on the well-paved side-walk, when he arrived in England, and 
 thank the gods that he had come to a country where some 
 regard was paid to the foot-passenger! Here he might pray 
 erect, as the ancients did when they poured forth their joy. 
 Had tlie arrangement in question been made, not for the 
 convenience of females, but in order to separate certain wo- 
 men, always busy about the post-office, from the place of ge- 
 neral delivery, the considerate regard for the community 
 would have been equally praiseworthy. 
 
 I once saw a young, gay gentleman taking, in a stage- 
 coach, a baby from a lady and holding it in his lap, I should 
 think at least half an hbur. I thought it, of course, very 
 amiable, but really I was also barbarian enough to think it 
 
 * Our colored servants take regularly their summer's trip. — ."By a re- 
 port made to tlie New Jersey legislature, on the 7th of Februaiy, 1834, we 
 find that nearly one hundred and tea thousand passengers vf eve conveyed be- 
 tween the cities of New York and Philadelphia, by the Camden and Amboy 
 rail-road line, during the year 1833, from January to January, summer and 
 winter." — Editor. 
 
 ble at our giving biin the trouble of " overrunning " a number of pages. Tliey will not 
 be the first pages that have been obligeil to aceonimodatc themselves to ladies.— Kdiiou. 
 
( 72 ) 
 
 quite sufficient, in all conscience, to bear good-humoredly 
 the act of travelling in company of a non-domestic baby. 
 
 I always have considered Mahomed very impolite for 
 denying women a soul, and the Andalusians ought to be 
 ashamed to this day, that their forefathers, the gentlemen of 
 Gades, according to Strabo, prohibited women from entering 
 their temple of Hercules.* But I really wish ladies would 
 keep out of the way where they are not in their sphere. 
 I would say, " Don't show this passage to the ladies of your 
 family," did they not know already my opinion on this 
 point, and, moreover, that it originates from my great vene- 
 ration of the sex. 
 
 A poor fellow of a traveller wants, for instance, to hear 
 the great men of the nation "talk." He goes to Wash- 
 ington; by eleven o'clock, the morning after his arrival, 
 he proceeds to the senate, though its business only begins 
 by twelve o'clock. He thinks he has secured a seat. But 
 by that time ladies begin to drop in; presently they seize 
 upon all the seats. Very well, allow the poor fellow but 
 a fair stand; but no, he is obliged to squeeze himself 
 in a corner, pressed in from all sides; mercy, ye gentle 
 souls, allow him but a free passage from his ear to the de- 
 baters, and treat the rest of his body as though it were a 
 bale of cotton under the hydraulic press! The prayer is 
 said; he stretches his neck like a turtle, and turns his eyes 
 away, in order to bring his ear the better into a position 
 that it may catch a sound, which Echo, more merciful than 
 the ladies, may throw into it. His twisted neck begins to 
 ache; his eyes are closed, he thinks "now for the treat," 
 
 * And as to the superintendent of the Auburn State prison, who states in 
 his official report: •' I have under my care about four hundred and fifty male 
 prisoners, and nine females, and I would cheerfully undertake the care of an 
 additional four hundred and fifty men, to be rid of the nine women/' why, 
 he ought to be lapidated on the spot. How could he dare to assert such enor- 
 mity, when he knew that the law of his state considers womankind so pre- 
 cious that a schoolmaster in Renssellaer county has been fined a thousand 
 dollars for having kissed one of his female pupils? 
 
( 73 ) 
 
 when, unhappily, some officer of the senate taps him on the 
 shoulder: " Su-, there are ladies coming," at the same time, 
 shuffling and pushing chairs over the heads of innocent listen- 
 ers and constituents, crammed in like the camomile flowers 
 of the shaking-quakers; but they have nothing to do here, 
 it seems. At last, the officer succeeds in working a passage, 
 and, lo! as if a canal of bonnets, feathers, and veils, had 
 broken through, in they rush; there is no use in resistance 
 " when this element breaks through." Without a single " I 
 beg your pardon," or betraying the least sorrow at disturb- 
 ing you, the ladies drive the poor man out of his last retreat; 
 "out with you, badger, out with you!" he must needs give 
 way, the contrary would be rude; and — memos blancas no 
 qfenden* The poor man who has come, say five hundred 
 miles, to hear the senate, is standing, by this time near the 
 door, with a longing look toward the president, if he has 
 found an opportunity to turn his head back again; and now 
 the debates begin, but, alas! the ladies, also, begin, and our 
 unlucky traveller retires, all he has heai'd of the senate 
 having been a lisping from sweet lips, directed, perchance, 
 to a polite senator himself. I truly and sincerely think, 
 that legislative halls ai-e, generally speaking, not places pre- 
 cisely calculated for ladies, for many and, I humbly think, 
 very weighty reasons. 
 
 Taken all in all, it seems to me, that woman, in the best 
 times of the Roman republic, had a position in society as 
 near to what she ought to have as at any other period of the* 
 world, and with any nation. Thus much is certain, that the 
 history of no people has recorded so many adorable exam- 
 ples of female virtue and elevation of soul, as the history of 
 " better Rome." But Lucretia, Valeria, Veturia, Volumnia, 
 Cornelia, Porcia, and the late and noble Aria, never went 
 to the senate-house. I know full well that our society, rest- 
 ing on different principles from that of ancient Rome — wit- 
 ness our refinement, our industry, our generally diffused sys- 
 
 • A Spanish proverb; white (female) hands cannot offend. — Editor. 
 
 10 
 
( 74 ) 
 
 tem of education, our^social intercourse, which has grown out 
 of a natural transformation of that of the chivalric times, of 
 which, nevertheless, many elements have passed over as in- 
 tegrant parts of the new order of things, — has different de- 
 mands, and requires different positions in the members com- 
 posing it; yet much is ever to be learned, from whatever once 
 was great. 
 
 Why not have, in the good old style of the early church, a 
 box with lattice-work, or some seats for a few matrons; but 
 as to giving up the whole place, left for humble listeners, to 
 young ladies of sixteen and seventeen, who turn the senate- 
 house into a lounging-place: it is, permit me to say it with a 
 bow, which craves indulgence, unfair. Now, if a law were 
 passed that no lady under twenty-five years should be ad- 
 mitted, I bet my life the whole difficulty would be removed. 
 The English, as yet the great masters of what I would call 
 parliamentary management, in which we are the next best, 
 but the French, to no little injury of their whole scheme of 
 of liberty, are totally deficient, do not admit ladies, except 
 on some particular occasions, in the gallery of the house of 
 lords. 
 
 Suppose, the same disappointed man, whom we have seen 
 swimming, without success, against the current in the se- 
 nate-house, is desirous of hearing an oration on some po- 
 litical subject, to be delivered in a public hall or church. 
 He starts early, to be certain of a place, but, oh Jove, pro- 
 » tector of the strangers ! when he arrives, all seats, below 
 and in the first rank above, are already taken by the ladies, 
 whose pretty heads are in as quick motion as their fans, which 
 gives to the whole scene the appearance of an agitated sea be- 
 tween breakers. But the stranger espies a yet empty space; 
 to this he directs his course; it is difficult, and may cost him 
 a flap of his coat, but, never mind, he is anxious to hear the 
 orator of the day. He penetrates, at length, to the spot where 
 he expects to rest in peace. " Sir," says, very politely, 
 a man with a short stick in his hand, "these seats are re- 
 served for the gentlemen who form the procession." Con- 
 
( 75 ) 
 
 found it, internally exclaims the disappointed man, and makes 
 his exit. I remember, I was once unable, on occasion of the 
 delivery of a Latin oration at a public commencement of some 
 college, to penetrate a crowd of ladies, composed, almost 
 without exception, not of mothers, but of young fashionables. 
 I am resolved to do my best to get up a Polite anti-ladies- 
 thronging-poor—men-oiit-of-every-chance-of-seeing-any- 
 thing-Society* and have branches established all over our 
 Union. If I am made president, I'll certainly use my in- 
 fluence to get Mr. Stuart elected an honorary and corres- 
 ponding member. 
 
 There is at times, in the intercourse between ladies and 
 gentlemen in this country, something old-fashioned. Whe- 
 ther the reason of this be the great distance of this country 
 from Europe, where all that belongs to this part of social 
 intercourse has undergone considerable changes, I do not 
 know. Certain it is that there is a difference between the 
 Americans and also the English on the one side, and the 
 French and Germans on the other, in respect to the feelings 
 and views they entertain as to the fashions of the " olden 
 time." 
 
 In Germany and France, there is invariably something 
 quasi-ridiculous, at all events pedantic, connected with the 
 age of wigs. " He is a wig," says the German, to express 
 a pedantic, stiff fellow. You remember Uhland's song. The 
 endeavors of the Germans to obtain liberty, their notions of 
 a national life, their more manly and popular ideas of a 
 modern date, unfolded themselves with greater energy after 
 the age of wigs had passed by. It is not so with the Eng- 
 lish; their greatness flourished in the time of the wigs and 
 hair-powder as much as it ever did afterwards or before. 
 Their greatest lawyers — lawyers of whom the nation feels 
 proud, expounders of the constitution, appeared in wigs; 
 
 * There was, in June, 1830, an " Open-air-field-and-annual-fjur-preaching- 
 Society " established in London. — Editor. 
 
( 76 ) 
 
 their greatest legislators defended liberty in wigs, their 
 greatest heroes commanded armies in wigs; their Chathams, 
 Whitbreads, Foxes, Rodneys, Elliots, Duncans, Nelsons, 
 spoke, fought, and died in wigs, or, at least, in powdered 
 hair; and as to the Americans, their whole heroic age 
 falls in the time of wigs. Their Washingtons, Adamses, 
 Jeffersons, Hamiltons, Hancocks, Shermans, Greenes,* 
 conquered liberty and established the nation's name in wigs, 
 or hair powder. Great brains, indeed, have boldly thought, 
 great hearts have nobly beaten, with you, too, under wigs, 
 great heroes have fallen, with you, too, in cues and powdered 
 hair, but they were not national men in the sense in which 
 the above deserve this name. This explains why certain 
 forms which have come down to our age from those times, 
 appear in a different light to English and Americans from 
 that in which they are viewed by other Europeans, and 
 thus partially accounts for some of the strange incongruities, 
 both here and in England. As you see in England a lady 
 in the most fashionable dress, followed by a florid face, over 
 which hangs a cloud of powder, and under which you see 
 a dress in the oldest possible fashion, so you find here by 
 the side of great ease of manners and of a liberty, allowed 
 to young ladies, unknown in the best society of Europe, 
 some old-fashioned custom, either in expression or manner. 
 Newspapers redound with old-fashioned expressions of " as- 
 sembled beauty," &c. 
 
 I return to my subject. Every female person in the 
 United States is a lady. But a few days ago, my boy 
 went out with a colored servant, and as they had not re- 
 turned when it began to grow dark, I felt uneasy, and went 
 to the ferry, on which they had intended to cross the De- 
 laware. I asked the ferryman: "Has a colored woman 
 with a child gone across this afternoon?" describing both. 
 " No colored lady has gone to the other shore," was the an- 
 
 • Did General Greene wear a wig? His father was a blacksmith and he 
 followed the profession of beating-. — Editob. 
 
( 77 ) 
 
 swer, not with the intention to correct me, but because the 
 words were more natural to his lips. He repeated, after- 
 wards, " No, sir, no colored lady, no colored woman has 
 gone across, within the last two hours." I'll tell you more. 
 They had, notwithstanding what had been said, gone across, 
 but in another boat. My boy found a little girl on board 
 the ferry, with whom he soon made acquaintance, and 
 speaking to the gentleman who was in charge of her, said, 
 " I wish I had a sweet little sister like this little girl." 
 " Have you no sister?" asked the gentleman. " No," said 
 my boy, " but I have begged God to give me one." The 
 colored girl, mentioned above, told at home this innocent 
 story, and added, " I did not know where I should look, 
 when the little boy said, he had begged God to give him a 
 sister." Violh de la delicatesse! 
 
 These are anecdotes, and must be taken as evidence is 
 taken in court, for what they are worth. I dislike very 
 much picking up anecdotes and generalizing them — the com- 
 mon method of travellers who think themselves very saga- 
 cious. It is a poor way of observing and reasoning, and has 
 done infinite mischief in judging of individuals and events, 
 both in history and those of our own times, but these are 
 anecdotes of a generic character. I know the state of things, 
 independently of their evidence, and give them because they 
 elucidate the fact; I do not reason from them, but add them 
 by way of illustration. 
 
 There are strange inconsistencies in the character of 
 every nation, and one of the strangest in the Americans 
 is the immense freedom young ladies enjoy upon some 
 points and their primness in others, upon which latter 
 the English often comment, altogether forgetting how 
 prudishly prim the ladies of England appear to foreigners 
 from the continent. Nothing is more common here than 
 for the young lady of the house, perhaps seventeen years 
 old, to give invitations to a ball in her own name, to sin- 
 gle gentlemen as well as others, though there may not 
 
( 78 ) 
 
 be the slightest reason for the mother or father not issuing 
 them in their name, I fancied I had made a great impres- 
 sion upon some unknown beauty when I received my first 
 invitation from young Miss So and So. " I," were my 
 thoughts, " invited by Miss X. Y. Z.?" " She writing my 
 name?" It was not long, however, before I discovered my 
 mistake. The mother is put quite in the back ground. This 
 is village-like, and is rapidly growing out of fashion in the 
 best educated families. As soon as the lady is married, she 
 drops like a Cactus grandiflorus after twenty-four hours 
 blowing; she recedes to give the ground to other young la- 
 dies yet unmarried. This is mauvais ton, no one denies, and 
 you see less of it in New York than in Philadelphia, in Phi- 
 ladelphia less than in Boston. However, it is pire ion still in 
 Italy, where the girl is shut up in a convent till she marries, 
 and when she is married, tries to regain in all possible ways 
 all she has lost in her early youth. Yet the true value and 
 refinement of society depends upon the married women. 
 Young damsels, occupied but with themselves, may be 
 found any where. People perceive this more and more, 
 and I have myself observed a change toward the better since 
 I have resided in this country. 
 
 An American girl is never embarrassed; a child of ten 
 years, — and I would hardly except a single class of the in- 
 habitants, — receives you with a frankness and good breed- 
 ing which is astonishing, and I can assure you, not un- 
 pleasing. So perfectly self-possessed are they, that blushing 
 is decidedly of less frequent occurrence here than with you 
 in Germany. My attention was lately drawn to a young 
 friend of mine, a most amiable girl, who blushed; and I 
 then thought how rarely I had seen it here. I could re- 
 member but very few girls of a large acquaintance that 
 will now and then be seen blushing, I mean when no- 
 thing but false embarras is the cause. This pleasing ease 
 and sensible frankness sometimes degenerate, as you may 
 suppose, into unbecoming and ungraceful forwardness, as 
 
( 79 ) 
 
 German mildness and bashfulness* degenerate sometimes 
 into shy gaucherie. 
 
 American ladies are possessed of much natural bright- 
 ness, and converse very freely, infinitely more so than gen- 
 tlemen. Altogether, boys and girls are earlier developed 
 here than in Europe, partly perhaps owing to the climate, 
 partly because they are allowed more freedom, — left more 
 to themselves. A young man of twenty has a much more 
 advanced position in life here than in England, and in 
 England more so than on the continent. The Germans, 
 it is my opinion, hold back a young man by far too much; 
 Americans, I am equally convinced, allow their young peo 
 pie to leap beyond their age — each system has its inconve- 
 niences. 
 
 Good education among ladies is general. Not a few are 
 truly superior in this respect. I think there must be num- 
 bers who are bright and fluent letter-writers, to judge from 
 my own correspondence. I know several ladies whose 
 attainments and natural powers would be a great orna- 
 ment to society any where, but one of them I count among 
 the most superior minds with whom it has ever been 
 my good fortune to become acquainted. Yet that has no- 
 thing to do with America; such brilliant endowments are 
 but contingencies in a nation, not the fruit of general na- 
 tional civilization. Would she but give proofs of her flash- 
 ing mind, unfettered thought, and independent judgment, 
 to more than her personal acquaintance! Her mind has 
 indeed a powerful grasp. Were it not for the horror I 
 feel at communicating letters, I would send you some of" 
 hers, and I would ask you whether they do not equal any 
 you have ever read which have been preserved as the stars 
 of memoirs. 
 
 You wish the ladies described too? I know that we wish 
 as much to become acquainted with the appearance of the fe- 
 male sex of a country as with their character. But this is no 
 
 * The Spanish ladies who neither admire English gravity nor French 
 moveabilily, say, " Han dc ser niuy dukes las dlemunaa." — Editok. 
 
 V 
 
( 80 ) 
 
 easier task than to give, in a few lines, a description of the 
 scenery of a country; it is, in fact, much more dilEcult. Yet 
 I will try it; only remember that descriptions of this kind are 
 to be taken as general assertions, admitting of innumerable 
 exceptions. To begin then. — It must be allowed, in the 
 first place, that American women have generally a fine, 
 and — more frequently than the women of other countries — 
 a genteel, rarely an imposing appearance. Their shoul- 
 ders are generally not wide enough, and too sloping; their 
 busts not sufficiently developed, but the waist is small and 
 round, and the lower parts of the body finely formed; their 
 feet are not peculiarly good — they are better than German 
 feet indeed, and better than English. Yet so capricious are 
 exceptions! The smallest pair of correctly shaped feet, so 
 small as would be justly criticized if an artist were to give 
 them to a work of his imagination, and the neatest pair of 
 ankles, "turned by Cupid," with corresponding hands and 
 wrists, that I ever beheld, I saw on this side of the Atlantic. 
 A pair of feet which might induce an admirer of the beau- 
 tiful to sing but of them, as Conti sung only of the hands of 
 his mistress.* I will give you a letter of introduction to 
 these lovely feet and hands and arms, if you come to this 
 country. In the mean time I send you a glove of their mis- 
 tress, which she once gave me with much grace: honor it 
 duly, and feel unbounded obligation for my parting with the 
 memento. 
 
 Their walk is much better than the ungraceful dipping 
 and pitching of the English ladies, which looks rather like 
 an unsuccessful attempt at a gallop than a walk.t However, 
 for feet and walk you must go to Andalusia; what is there 
 equal to la gracia andaluz? 
 
 * Giusto de' Conti, in the 15th century, was an imitator of Petrarch. The 
 constant subject of his sonnets was the hand of his mistress; hence the whole 
 collection is called La Bella Mano. — Editor. 
 
 •j- Of the English walk may be said what Byron says of the Andalusian 
 step: "I can't describe it, though so much it sti'lke." The lady, whoever 
 she be, that first kept pace with her long-striding husband, ought to be im- 
 mortalized as the opposite deity to Aglaja or Euphrosyne. — Editoh. 
 
( 81 ) 
 
 " Their very walk would make your bosom swell; 
 I can't describe it, thoug-h so much it strike. 
 Nor liken it — I never saw the like. — 
 
 An Arab horse, a stately stag-, a barb 
 New-broke, a cameleopard, a gazelle — 
 No — none of these will do." — 
 
 Their arms — where are fine arms any longer to be found 
 if not by way of exception? Sleeves have spoiled them. 
 Their color — I do not now speak specially of the arms 
 — is generally delicate, which contributes to give, even to 
 the lowest classes, an air of gentility. An English face here 
 is known directly by its florid color; and it is sometimes 
 very agreeable to meet with a rosy cheek lately arrived. 
 Their eyes are not as large as the Spanish, nor ojos ador- 
 midillos* yet they are fine, well cut, and Well set, and of 
 much mental expression. They look bright, and are general- 
 ly of a fine dark brown color. The general expression of the 
 face is again that of handsomeness and delicacy rather than 
 of great and striking beauty. From all this you will see 
 that American ladies look better in the street than in the 
 ball-room, yet I can assure you you find there also many 
 charming faces It is a peculiarity of the United States which 
 has often struck me, that there are more pretty girls than in 
 any other large country, but fewer of those imposing beau- 
 ties which we meet in Europe, and who have their proto- 
 types in a Mad. Recamier or Tallien, or the beautiful Al- 
 banian, when I saw her in Rome, or even as you find many 
 in the higher ranks in England, or those noble faces, necks, 
 and figures of the women in the marine villages near Gensa- 
 no, which made a Thorwaldson ravet — beauties which " try 
 
 • The Spanish name for sleepy, lang-uishing- eyes. — Editoh. 
 
 •)■ We know tliat the autiior visited Gensano near Rome at the time of the 
 injiorata, in company with Mr. Tliorwaldson, the greatt st scidptor of tlie 
 age. The infiurata (the feast of the blossom, literally the in-blossumed 
 feast,) is the name of a festival, when the streets of that beautifully situated 
 town are covered with tasteful designs made of flowers, of which, mostly, 
 the small colored leaves only are taken. By means of these flowers it be- 
 
 11 
 
( 82 ) 
 
 man's soul," which will not .depart from the mirror of your 
 mind, and disturb your quiet, though your heart may be firm 
 as a rock. After all, I come back to my old saying, there is 
 no European nation that can — taken all in all — compete for 
 great beauty with the English, as there is no nation where 
 so many pretty and delicate faces are seen as in the United 
 States. Heavens ! what an array of beauty in one single bright 
 afternoon in Hyde Park, or at a ball in the higher circles! 
 Amongst other nations there are also beauties, for exam- 
 ple, the Roman ladies, the peasant women around Gensano, 
 whom I just mentioned, and the Tirolese men; but I call the 
 whole English nation a handsome one. The very first time 
 I took a walk in London I was struck with the beautiful 
 children even in that confined city; a handsome English 
 boy of ten years is one of the flowers of creation. Go even 
 to the London 'Change; among the merchants, who, with 
 other nations, surely do not exhibit many specimens of 
 beauty, you find there tall, well-shaped, fine-looking men, 
 whom Frederic William 1. would have put directly into a 
 uniform of his grenadiers. Call me a heretic, as the dis- 
 tinguished — did in the Roman ostetna, I cannot help 
 
 it; English beauty outstrips all the rest, and what seems pe- 
 culiar to that nation, is, that the higher the class in England 
 the greater the beauty, whilst the aristocracy of other Eu- 
 ropean nations is far from forming the handsomest part of 
 the inhabitants. 
 
 Brightness of mind, as I said before, is a general attri- 
 bute of the American lady. They seize with ease the sa- 
 lient points of things. Let me, instead of a long descrip- 
 tion, give you an instance. In a conversation between a 
 lady and myself, tableaux vivans happened to be mentioned, 
 
 comes possible to lay out any design and show great skill. The streets thus 
 covered with the richest tapestry offer one of the most chai'ming sights ima- 
 ginable. To this feast people of all the suiTOunding places resort, and it is 
 here where the beautiful peasant girls with corals in the hair are seen. Mr. 
 Thorwaldson was quite excited by the great mass of matcliless beauty col- 
 lected there, when the author was with him. — Editor. 
 
( 83 ) 
 
 and when it was found that I was acquainted with the me- 
 chanical details of these charming entertainments, she im- 
 mediately resolved to have some represented in her house, 
 and entered into their whole character with an ease, which 
 surprised me, as she had never seen any before. The aes- 
 thetic part as well as the mechanical was soon perfectly 
 understood. I will not detain you by relating all the trou- 
 ble we had to find the proper gauze for the frame, and 
 my delight in arranging and placing the pictures on the 
 occasion. I will only say, that not a single one of the com- 
 pany showed either false primness or a coquettish desire to 
 show herself to the greatest advantage. But one wish ani- 
 mated all, to make the tableaux as perfect as possible — and 
 they were made perfect. I have never seen more beautiful 
 ones, though I have seen them on a larger scale; the stage, 
 curtain, light, music, the ease and grace of the performers, 
 the subjects, the steadiness with which the ladies and gen- 
 tlemen stood, the style of the whole, in short, every thing 
 conspired to make these tableaux vivans, the first ever seen 
 by most of them, as perfect as they could be wished. Se- 
 veral European gentlemen who, like myself, had often seen 
 them, were quite astonished, and the whole performance 
 gave me a high opinion of the tact, taste and grace of Ame- 
 rican ladies. I will give you the subject of some of the 
 pictures, so that you may the better judge: Niobe, Hagar 
 and Ishmael, Ali-Pacha and Vasilikl, Cumean Sibyl, Mar- 
 garet and Faust, Baptism of Maiek Adhel, Amy and Janet 
 Foster, Death of Cleopatra, Marino Faliero, a Vestal, all 
 after engravings or pictures. I can assure you that while 
 the first was a truly classical picture, there were others, for 
 instance Hagar and Ishmael, or the Cumean Sibyl, which 
 produced in me, for the first time since I had been in the 
 United States, that peculiar feeling, which a picture of the 
 glowing Italian school, of Raphael, Giulio Romano, &c., 
 never fails to pour through all our veins. 
 
 What surprised me much was the ease with which they 
 at once understood the principles of drapery, I mean that 
 
( 84 ) 
 
 drapery which the higher art requires, and of which our 
 present life affords no opportunity of study. The lady, 
 through whose zeal and taste they were got up, had chosen 
 the music for each picture with great felicity; and if I add, 
 that not a single lamp-glass cracked, or any lady smiled 
 or moved, or any accident or mistake, however trifling, oc- 
 curred during the whole performance, you may imagine 
 that I had, of the whole, a fine evening, the preparations 
 for which, by the by, in the three rehearsals were not less 
 agreeable. Were what I write calculated to meet the eyes 
 of the fair performers over whom I ruled for a time with 
 almost as much power as a directeur gemral des theatres, 
 I should express my acknowledgments to them most duti- 
 fully. 
 
 As to music, there is much instruction in it here, * * * 
 ******* English, perhaps 
 
 « ** * * # * * * ** 
 
 Mozart not fashionable^ " can Raphael be fashionable, or the 
 contrary?" I said, ******* 
 
 *********** 
 
 * * * *• pour briller * * * * 
 
 * * * « * ****** 
 
 yet one of the noblest voices and, perhaps, the best non- 
 professional performer on the harp, I ever heard, are in this 
 country.* 
 
 Before I close my chapter on American beauty — a chap- 
 ter which, I dare say, has proved very unsatisfactory to you, 
 although I gave you fair warning that it is very difficult for 
 a conscientious writer to generalize such things — I must 
 mention the fact, that American women make most exem- 
 plary wives and mothers, and strange, be a girl ever so co- 
 quettish — yea, even a positive flirt, who in Europe, would 
 unavoidably make her future husband unhappy as soon as 
 she were married, here she becomes the domestic and re- 
 tired wife. That unhappy marriages seem to be compara- 
 
 • The blank lines in the above, indicate passages, which, by some acci- 
 dent, were rendered perfectly illegible in the MS. — Editor. 
 
( 85 ) 
 
 tively rare in America may be partly owing to the great 
 patience of an American husband, which again is referrible 
 to the greater want of excitability, but it is undoubtedly 
 owing also, and probably in a greater degree, to the temper 
 of the women. 
 
 The American women are kind and very charitable; I 
 think they are peculiarly so. Married ladies do not only 
 give, if a case of misfortune happens to present itself, but 
 they undergo considerable personal trouble in compliance 
 with their charitable disposition. And again, I have known 
 here several ladies of the most worldly appearance, living, 
 apparently, but to gain admiration, who, nevertheless, would 
 visit the poor and sick in their humblest dwellings. 
 
 I have mentioned above the beautiful Albanian. You 
 know who she was? ivas, because, by this time, alas! that 
 matchless beauty must have begun already to become a 
 prey to all-corroding time. I had the enviable fortune to 
 live with the great historian, Mr. Niebuhr, then minister in 
 Rome, and resided with him also for some time in Gensano, 
 in a palace belonging to Cardinal Consalvi. One afternoon, 
 it was the 3d of October, I took a walk in the vineyards 
 around that lovely place, and met a peasant driving home 
 his ass, laden with grapes. After a short conversation, I 
 expressed a wish to buy some, when the peasant asked me to 
 go along with him, as he had much better grapes at home. I, 
 who like to mingle with the people, and am always desirous 
 to observe life as closely as possible, accepted the invita- 
 tion with great pleasure. When we arrived, the hospitable 
 peasant called his daughter to bring some wine, bread, and 
 grapes, and who should come in! — "the beautiful Alba- 
 nian." This girl, the daughter of Antonio Caldonc, was, as to 
 her head, face, neck, and bust, such perfect beauty that her 
 reputation had rapidly spread far and wide, and the father 
 justly apprehended evil consequence from the many visits 
 which were paid by artists and others. He, therefore, cut 
 the matter short, and allowed nobody to paint her or to pay 
 any visits to the house for the purpose of seeing his daugh- 
 
( 86 ) 
 
 ter. Mr. Thorwaldson alone obtained permission, after this 
 injunction, to take a bust of the wonderful maid. He him- 
 self showed it to me one day in his atelier, and said, point- 
 ing at it with that beaming joy which a great artist feels 
 when the pleasure at meeting with perfection thrills through 
 his heart, "There! — no art has ever produced a purer 
 beauty." 
 
 Her aquiline nose was of the finest make, and clearly 
 defined; her eyes were large, dark, glowing, and oversha- 
 dowed by long silken eyelashes, full of a playful expres- 
 sion, yet tempered by the gravity of perfection — eyes which 
 made me think, the moment I beheld them, such were the 
 eyes of a loving goddess, such the voluptuous expres- 
 sion of the Paphian maid! Her eyebrows were distinct 
 and dark, yet so fine and gracefully arched, that they ap- 
 peared as if painted by the steadiest hand with the most de- 
 licate brush. Her forehead was a vault of perfect dimen- 
 sions and delineation, and the tense, clear, youthful skin, 
 showed the unbroken circles which mark serenity and no- 
 bleness of mind. Neither care, nor vulgarity, nor little- 
 ness were stamped there. Her full, black, and moist hair 
 had that lustre of youth, which renders still deeper its dark- 
 ness and richness, and grew down from one small and trans- 
 parent ear to the other, in a line as well marked as if drawn 
 by a skilful draftsman, and not too deep in the neck, where 
 close above it, the rich, Grecian nest of her abundant hair, 
 pierced with the coral arrow, permitted the matchless beau- 
 ty of her head to appear, set on the neck in the most perfect 
 angle. The line of her chin was as graceful and as dis- 
 tinctly drawn as that of her forehead, while the vividly co- 
 lored, full, and well-cut lips of a mouth not too small, gave 
 her a slightly earthly look, that the nobleness of her fore- 
 head might not be too grand for a youthful female beau- 
 ty. Her small and square teeth were neatly set, showing, 
 when she smiled, two narrow white stripes, lining the deep 
 carmine of her lips, which, arched like Cupid's bow, full, 
 swelling with health, and yet delicate, had that firmness 
 
( 87 ) 
 
 mixed with tender softness, which is unlike any thing else 
 in nature. Her skin, though darkened, by a southern sun, 
 was clear and of the finest texture, and showed the rosy 
 color of her cheek like the first glow in the east, under 
 her large eyes, dark as night. The lines of her shoulders 
 sloped off in the most correct angle to the outer points; and 
 with these round, as if turned of ivory, and with a bust and 
 neck betraying youthful health, and striving, in budding 
 fulness, towards the time when her beauty would be in 
 its noon — the appearance was that of graceful vigor in its 
 development. There was in all her head, and face, and 
 bust, a grace, a grandeur, a voluptuous richness, and a 
 pride of purity, such as I never had believed could exist 
 but in imagination. Her figure was not as that grand tour- 
 nure, so common in this part of Italy, even among the low- 
 est, would have induced the beholder to expect with such a 
 head and such a bust; nature had exhausted herself; she had 
 concentrated all her plastic power to produce this unrivalled, 
 perhaps never to be equalled, head. Such beauty appearing 
 on earth, reveals to man the secrets of nature, and shows 
 him of what perfection she contains the germs. I am thank- 
 ful for having been permitted to meet her even once. 
 
 As a woman whom we have ever seen adorned with 
 great charms, will have attraction for us, even at periods 
 less favorable to her beauty, or as an individual whom we 
 have once known to perform an act revealing great nobleness 
 of soul, will always appear to us in a superior light, though 
 we may see him in the commonest affairs, so it is well if we 
 meet in life with a being, whom we can call noble, pure, 
 and elevated throughout, since, after having seen one in- 
 stance of great elevation of soul, we will ever find the inci- 
 pient stages of it in many individuals around us; and so it is 
 in like manner, well for us to meet with one example of 
 beauty made perfect, which may serve to show us what hu- 
 man beauty can be, and thus elevate in our eye every beau- 
 tiful trait or limb we may afterwards see, more nearly to 
 that standard which gives delight to the soul. Why is a 
 
f ( 88 ) 
 
 painter more easily charmed than other people with some 
 single tree, a peculiar bend of a rivulet, or a small rock? 
 Because he perceives a beauty in all of them, from having 
 often observed such objects in their state of perfection. 
 Every true specimen of perfection or even excellence, of 
 whatever kind it may be, from the moral down to the phy- 
 sical, elevates every instance of an inferior degree of excel- 
 lence that we meet with, and sheds over it a portion of its 
 own perfection. 
 
 Perusing my letter once more, before I send it to you, I 
 was reminded by the passage which speaks of the love of 
 a German toward his horse, and shows his bonhomie, of 
 another and better instance of this trait in Germans, with 
 which you would wish, perhaps, to become acquainted, as it 
 pleased me when I found it. You probably know that Na- 
 poleon Louis Bonaparte, son of Louis Bonaparte, Count St. 
 Leu, published in 1830, a French translation of an Italian 
 manuscript written by James Bonaparte in the year 1527, 
 on the pillage of Rome by Bourbon. Count Survilliers, 
 Joseph Bonaparte, had the kindness to send me a copy of 
 this work, interesting in more than one respect. James 
 Bonaparte was an eye-witness of the sad event which he de- 
 scribes. What a butchering there has been in this world! 
 How many thousand years has it been full of Timours, small 
 and great! I do not speak of regular battles, but of actual 
 butchering. The history of India before the British oc- 
 cupation alone might make a man doubt, whether he would 
 not be willing to change his human skin for some other fur. 
 And then, when the slaughter ceases, what ruling! Oh Po- 
 mareh! Oh Pomareh!* 
 
 • We must explain this exclamation. Often, when the author heard of 
 bad governments, he would exclaim, oh Pomareh! On repeated inquiry 
 what he meant by it, he one day showed us, without saying a word, a passage 
 in Kotzebue's Second Voyage round the World, which runs thus: — '•Po- 
 mareh, late King of Otaheiti, a wise and mild ruler, used, nevertheless, now 
 and then, to drink, and when he felt the effects of this evil habit, he would 
 exclaim and apostrophize himself, • Oh King, to-day thy fat hogs might rule 
 better than thyself!'" — Editor. 
 
( 89 ) 
 
 But to my passage in James Bonaparte's work. — Page 
 66, it is said that "the Spaniards respected the sacred places 
 and did not touch the relics, but they surpassed the Germans 
 in cruelty and perfidy. When once the first heat had abated, 
 the latter did no longer maltreat their prisoners. They 
 were content with the sum of money, which had been vo- 
 luntarily offered and paid them; a great number of them 
 even showed much regard for the young and handsome 
 ladies and treated them with mildness and humanity, and, to 
 protect them against all dangers, carried them to secure 
 places. Several prisoners, taking advantage of the good 
 disposition of these soldiers, offered immediately very mo- 
 derate ransoms. Their propositions were willingly ac- 
 cepted. This moderation on the side of the German sol- 
 diers cannot be attributed to the rich booty they had to di 
 vide among themselves, nor to the poverty in which they 
 live in Germany, and which might be supposed to have 
 given to the very small sums which were offered, great va- 
 lue in their eyes; it originated from a greater humanity and 
 fairness in them. The Spaniards, on the contrary, quite as 
 poor, and more so perhaps, showed, neither in the first mo- 
 ment of victory nor later, so much moderation," &c. — Their 
 cruelties are described as horrid. Now consider that the 
 Germans were chiefly Protestants and the Spaniards of that 
 time bigoted Catholics, and I think, a testimony from so 
 remote times, by an Italian who had himself suffered much 
 by the pillage and many enormities committed during the 
 same, will be quite acceptable. The southern nations of 
 Europe have always been more cruel than those of the north. 
 The English peasants under Watt Tyler killed indeed, but 
 they did not torment in so refined a way as the French 
 "Jacquerie" in rebellion, and the French nobility in their 
 turn. What a poisoning and stabbing there has been in 
 Italian and French history; how little, in comparison, in 
 England or Germany. It is a sad truth, that the French, to 
 this day, surpass the other civilized nations in atrocity. If 
 you pay attention to the different species of crimes against 
 
 12 
 
( 90 ) 
 
 persons, committed in Germany, England,* the United States, 
 and France, you will find that the enormity and refinement 
 of crime are by far the greatest in the latter country. The 
 Gazette des Tribunaux contains the awful proofs of what 
 I say. There are more murders committed, attended by 
 great cruelty, or requiring unnatural hardhearted ness, such 
 as parricides, &c., in France than in either of the four great 
 leading nations. I do not assert this as mere opinion; I have 
 paid attention to the subject for several years. 
 
 And now, when I had at last intended to close my epistle — 
 as long as an American governor's message — a negro boy 
 under my window calls a lad of the same race, by way of 
 reproach, " niggei'.'^ This is quite frequent, yet very pe- 
 culiar. So much does the oppressed or lower class always 
 strive to imitate the superior, that even the name which is 
 bestowed by the latter upon the former, by way of con- 
 tempt, is adopted and used by them. You must not take 
 the present instance as of a similar character with the 
 Gueux or Protestants, or the song of Yankee-Doodle, 
 which were adopted in spite, though used originally by 
 way of ridicule, or reproach, but rather as an instance of 
 the same kind as the Spanish cafre^ a word of contempt, 
 now used by the Spaniards, but originally bestowed upon 
 them by the Arabs, with whom it signified first an infidel, 
 and then a rogue or villain. When I first saw the Greeks, 
 a short time after they had driven the Turks from the Mo- 
 rea, they endeavored at nothing with so much zeal as to 
 imitate their former and hated masters in all their customs, 
 and in dress, &c. Our German proverb " One kettle calls 
 the other black face," might, therefore, be better rendered 
 now, by " One negro calls the other nigger," — a pro-w^Pb, 
 homely as it is, for the application of which, we do, never- 
 theless, find opportunities every day, in politics, sectarian 
 controversies, scientific disputes, &c. j 
 
 * Ireland is not included. Murders, in that countrj', are frequently attend. 
 cd by great ferocity .-—Ebitou. 
 
( 91 ) 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 The morning after I arrived in New York, I went to 
 see a friend of mine — a gentleman, such as you may meet in 
 this life, to whom, nevertheless, were he to be depicted in a 
 work of fiction, the possibility of existence would be de- 
 nied. He is a Spaniard, yet he knows and speaks fluently 
 five languages, among which is the German, though he never 
 was in any other country than Spain, the Spanish West In- 
 dies, and but lately has come to the United States. He is 
 a merchant, yet makes sweet verses in French and Spanish. 
 He is an Andalusian, an(\ yet delights in American beauty. 
 He is of true sangre azul* and yet of great ease in his 
 manners, and enters with facility into the views and ways 
 of other nations. Such is the salt-cellar t of my soul, of 
 
 • To be of sangre azul, blue blood, means in Spanish, of pure Christian 
 origin, perhaps on account of the whiter skin of the Gothic race, and the 
 veins appearing blue through it, compared to the darker skin of the Moors; 
 or, and we think more probably, from the fact that blue being the color of 
 tlie sky assumes with several nations the meaning of purity. Altogether, 
 the word blue has obtained a very peculiar signification with many modern 
 nations. — Ei> itoh . 
 
 f Sal and sakro (salt and salt-cellar) are very common expressions used in 
 Andalusia with reference to beauty and endearment, thongh the author de- 
 viates somewhat from the Spanish use, which generally employs tliese strange 
 expressions as terms of endearment between the two sexes. Sakro del alma, 
 salt-cellar of my soul, tknt mucha sal, she has much salt, es muy salada, 
 she is very salt, salado y vaknion del alma, salt one :ind hero of my soul, 
 ;ire frequently used. — F.niTon. 
 
( 92 ) 
 
 whom I might mention yet a whole list of deviations from the 
 rule. But we do not only meet in reality with persons who 
 would be considered in plain prose the creations of the poet; 
 I could tell you of many events and occurrences which have 
 happened, as I myself know, in real life, and yet would 
 not be tolerated in a novel, merely on account of their es- 
 sential improbability, or impossibility, perhaps, as the critic 
 would have it. Like Italian mountains at a distance, so dark 
 and yet so purely blue, that, were a landscape painter to copy 
 them, they might be considered as belonging to the scenery 
 of a land of visions. 
 
 I found my friend pensive and sad — a humor in which he 
 does not often indulge; but when he imformed me of the 
 reason of his melanclioly, I could not but agree with him 
 that he had good cause for it. 
 
 A friend of his had lately arrived from the West Indies 
 with his sister, a lovely girl, but whose beauty was enhanced 
 by that most melancholy charm, which told that Death had 
 entered in his book of record, opposite her name, the fear- 
 ful word — Consumption. The transparent whiteness of her 
 spotless teeth, such as we observe only in those, whose 
 veins have drunk of the poison of that disease, the deep 
 crimson of her lips, the brilliant lustre of her eyes, that fear- 
 ful ornament peculiar to the victims of this fever, which 
 paints with delicate vermilion the mocking flush, as if in 
 scorn of health; the pallid cheek, fanned and softened by 
 the wings of inexorable Death, who hovers around and 
 seems to shower all bloom and charm upon his youthful sa- 
 crifices, as if to say to those who remain, " Behold, such 
 their beauty, and such my power to destroy:" — ah, every 
 thing about this Spanish girl sufficiently proved that there 
 was no hope in human skill, and that her noble figure, of 
 which nature might have been proud, and her dark and lux- 
 uriant tresses, — that all these features beaming with kind- 
 ness and intense attachment to her afllicted brother, the last 
 and only kinsman left her, and that her heart, which never 
 yet had beaten but in purest innocence, would soon be laid 
 
( 93 ) 
 
 into the narrow shrine and become a prey to the loathsome 
 servants of Death. 1 saw this lonely and afflicted couple, 
 and never had I beheld a more affecting picture of silent 
 grief and of despairing love; she had his hand in hers, her 
 eyes fixed upon his, as if desirous of speaking of their ap- 
 proaching separation, but fearful to pierce his heart by the 
 very comfort she wished to give him; he struggling with- 
 in himself to belie his fears and griefs, and to make his 
 countenance speak of hopes his heavy heart knew not. And 
 all this in a distant country, far from their friends, their sky, 
 and native tongue! A lady, whom I would call the kindest 
 woman I know, did I not know the one whose kindness is 
 intwined with my life, had visited her, indeed, as often as 
 her sufferings would permit her to see any one besides 
 her brother. It is true, that the looks of that kind be- 
 ing must soon have told the sufferer that joy and grief 
 quicken the steps of friendship; yet this friend had not 
 been a companion of her youth, she was not a friend of her 
 friends; her appearance was not a record which told of a 
 thousand pleasures enjoyed together, a thousand griefs suf- 
 fered in faithful companionship. That balm of friendship 
 is but slowly collected by single drops on a long journey 
 through life. 
 
 The physicians had advised the patient to proceed forth- 
 with to Havre She was to go with her brother the next 
 morning, and my friend had had the painful foresight to 
 ask the latter whether he was prepared to lose his sister 
 on the passage. " I fear," said he, with moistened eyes, 
 "she will never see the shores of France." "Then," con- 
 tinued my friend, " you are to consider which you prefer in 
 case of death, to hand her over to the deep, or to have her 
 buried on shore." " I tremble at the idea of parting with 
 her on sea." " If this be the case, my friend, I shall be 
 obliged to send a cask of spirits on board." " Do so, do 
 so," he sobbed, overwhelmed at all the horror of his 
 thoughts. — I wish Sterne had described it to you. 
 
 Now, there is something heart-rending in the idea of sail- 
 
( 94 ) 
 
 ing on the lonely track of the wide ocean, in that awful si- 
 lence — vastness above you and vastness beneath — with the 
 body, yet nothing but the body of a being you love, and love 
 beyond every other human one, close by you. Even the 
 idea of an easy posture in the coffin has something soothing 
 compared to this. The human mind abhors being obliged 
 to connect the idea of the narrow, the ugly, and especially 
 of that, which, in any other case, would cause the opposite 
 to grief, with the beloved who have departed from this 
 world. Things of this kind depend, I know well, upon feel- 
 ing alone. To some, the idea of seeing the shrouded body 
 of a once dear companion in life, descend into the watery 
 grave, there to be devoured by the ill-shaped inhabitants of 
 the deep, is horrid. 
 
 I knew a lady who told me once the story of her grief, 
 when she lost her husband on a passage from Brazil to the 
 United States, a few days after they had set sail, and could 
 not persuade herself to part with his body, but rather chose 
 to keep it near her for more than two months, in the way 
 that bodies are preserved on sea. When I asked, " and j'ou 
 did not prefer to let the ocean receive it?" she uttered, 
 with a shuddering and trembling voice, pressing her hands 
 against her face: "Ah! and fishes gnaw upon!"* 
 
 My feeling on this point is different. The burial service 
 on the sea — a floating community, under the vastest dome of 
 heaven's canopy, surrounded by the unbounded ocean which 
 is to receive the remains of a departed friend, and soon may 
 ingulph those who are paying him the last tribute of earth- 
 ly regard, should He that bade him die, call up the tem- 
 pest — this faithful picture of our whole course through life, 
 has in it for me, something sublime. We love, indeed, to 
 know the spot where our friends rest from the toils of life, 
 and it is soothing to go unseen to their graves, to plant a 
 flower on the turf beneath which they slumber; but if this 
 
 * Shakspeaie will put his words into our mouths in moments of the great- 
 est joy and deepest grief; he penetrates so intimately our souls, that he be- 
 comes our spokesman, and we quote him unconsciously. — Ein'mu. 
 
( 95 ) 
 
 can only be obtained by first placing the body in a liquid 
 which reminds you of a thousand prosaic and contrasting 
 things, I would much prefer the burial on the waves, and 
 let the heaving billows close for ever over him, from whom 
 the breath of life has fled. There is something elevating 
 to me in the contemplation, that thus matter returns to 
 matter in this wide element; that death has given sustenance 
 to life according to the eternal laws which regulate the ever- 
 changing substance, as its Maker willed them from the com- 
 mencement of all things. Though the same takes place 
 with those who sleep in the bosom of the earth, I think 
 that that great truth presents itself with more grandeur to 
 our mind, when we contemplate this dissolution in the vast, 
 unbroken element which rolls from pole to pole, and is preg- 
 nant with a thousand germs of life in every drop. 
 
 I never can forget what I felt when I came to the end of 
 Southey's Life of Nelson, where the hero terminates his ca- 
 reer in a barrel of rum. 
 
( 96 ) 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 Few things in life, it seems to me, can dispose us to feel 
 more sad than the looking over of old letters, and yet it has 
 all the interest of a sad story, all the painful charm of tragic 
 events related in a vivid style. How, in such moments, 
 our life passes before our inward eye! Here some lines of 
 a hand that now is cold and stiff; there the characters you 
 once so dearly loved to contemplate, but no longer directed 
 to you; the date of some letters, the buoyant style, and jokes, 
 and puns of others; the blots of burning tears in one; the 
 yellow paper, cut and smoked by the precautious quaran- 
 tine; the large capitals of a childish correspondent; the brief 
 but happy official information that your petition at length 
 has been granted ; a colored and embossed note, whose three 
 or four lines remind you of a world of enjoyment; a tattered 
 letter crossed and crammed; a note written by a fair hand, 
 and which once accompanied some choice wine, when you 
 were sick in a foreign country; a letter from your old teach- 
 er with Greek and Latin quotations; the happy writing of 
 your parents, traced by a hand trembling with joy, after 
 they had learned that a great battle had been fought and you 
 were still alive; the unsolicited praise of your own work by 
 a man of distinguished authority, who thus begins his cor- 
 respondence; the malevolent misrepresentation of your best 
 intentions; the joyous information that your election is go- 
 ing on swimmingly—represented in such documents lies 
 
( 97 ) 
 
 the history of your life around you — ruins and ashes, which 
 it requires courage to contemplate, a strong resolution to 
 view without a bleeding heart; while pain retains its sting, 
 joy almost turns to grief, since ruthless time has written un- 
 der most of these messengers of pleasure — " past and gone." 
 
 And if our correspondence of elapsed years can thus af- 
 fect us, with what feelings do we not lay down an old journal 
 of ours, not a book of lying sentiments, but a brief and true 
 record of names, dates, events and facts? Why can I hard- 
 ly ever take up my journal of Rome without sadness? Why 
 are the faint characters I wrote in Greece with wine and 
 gun-powder, so sadly dear to me? Why can I not look at 
 the tattered leaves, which recall to my mind Waterloo's 
 field, without feeling something heavy here at my left side? 
 Because human life is in such moments spread out before us 
 with all its withered blossoms, over which Time has trod 
 with his hasty and destroying strides. — Have you ever 
 looked again at one of your earliest copy-books? I have a 
 book containing the compositions, which I had to write in 
 the course of my religious instruction preceding confirma- 
 tion* — but it is useless to dwell upon these things. 
 
 I was led to this introduction to my epistle, from my be- 
 ing reminded in New York, in the course of my letters to 
 you, that seven years ago I arrived there on the same day, 
 and put my foot on land in the same hour, that in 1815 a 
 ball prostrated me. This coincidence made me at the time 
 reflective; I sought the field, and at Wiehawk, on a point 
 perpendicularly above the Hudson, from which I had a 
 view over the whole city and the bay, the river and the 
 country, I sat down and mused. Thus reminded of Wa- 
 terloo, I remembered that some time ago you asked me to 
 
 • The German Protestants, who consider confirmation as the voluntaryre- 
 petition of the vow which others made for the infant at the font of baptism, 
 allow no person to be confirmed without previous and regular instruction in 
 our religion and a public examination, which proves the fitness of being ad- 
 mitted to confirmation. Lutherans and Calvinists do this alike, and govern- 
 ment exacts this instruction. — Editor. 
 
 13 
 
( 98 ) 
 
 give you a sketch of my adventures in that battle; I deter- 
 mined to comply with your wish, and searched among my 
 papers for a copy, which my mother gave me once, of my 
 own letter, the first I was able to write after the eventful 
 days of battle. I did not succeed in finding what I looked 
 for, but will, nevertheless, give you a sketch of what you 
 desire. Do not expect a kind of memoirs; I played too 
 humble a part in the chorusses of that great drama, though 
 a French sergeant has, I see, published his memoirs. Nor 
 must you even expect a monography. It will be but a 
 very brief sketch, of some little interest perhaps, in as 
 much as we love to observe how a great and memorable era 
 has affected a single individual; of what particular elements 
 that which we know only as a great historical phenomenon 
 was made up; and in as much as that may interest, which 
 we know to be true, when, as a fictitious composition, it 
 would be void and wanting of all salient points. I wish 
 some Egyptian had noted every evening during one whole 
 year, on his imperishable papyrus, every thing he had done 
 during the day. It would be a document of no mean value 
 now, had his occupation been but the superintending of some 
 men engaged in building a pyramid, or digging a canal. 
 
 But, if I thus tell you a plain, true story, you must not be 
 surprised to find strange contrasts, the most common thing 
 ludicrously placed by the side of the noblest or gravest. 
 Life, you know well, does not select and classify, does not 
 present things by gradual transitions, but seems to delight 
 in contrasts, and is much like the index of an encyclopedia, 
 where Locke follows Lobster, where Lace precedes Lace- 
 dsemon, and Shakers is the neighboring article to Shak- 
 speare. It places, like the old architects, a grinning monkey 
 in the capital of a column, which supports the canopy of an 
 altar, or covers the walls of the room where Jefierson drew up 
 the Declaration of Independence, with scenes of Don Quix- 
 ote's life."" Perhaps the very spot, on which he fastened his 
 
 • Room No. 2, in the Indian Queen in Philadelphia, in which Jefferson 
 dw elt during the memorable Congress, is universally believed to be the room 
 
( 99 ) 
 
 eye when meditating how he should word that great instru- 
 ment, now represents Sancho tossed like a fox. We meet 
 with contrasts every where. To the version of the bible used 
 by the freest nation of Europe, continues to be prefixed an ad- 
 dress to one of England's most obnoxious kings, drawn up 
 in terms of offensive flattery; whilst the women of the very 
 sect, which takes its name from its meekness, are sufficient- 
 ly bold to speak in their public meetings. Does not the gay 
 riband of fashion almost touch the gravestone which looks 
 from the churchyard into Broadway? Captain Lyon found 
 the nest of a snow-bunting built on the breast of a dead in- 
 fant,* and Domitian was brother to Titus and a son of Ves- 
 pasian, and Charles the Fifth's own sister professed Protes- 
 tantism. 
 
 " Boys, clean your rifles," said my old and venerable fa- 
 ther, entering my room, where I was just studying Loder's 
 Anatomical Tables; " He is loose again." — " Napoleon?" — 
 "He has returned from Elba." — My heart beat high; it 
 was glorious news for a boy of sixteen, who had often heard 
 with silent envy the account of the campaigns of 1813 and 
 -14 from the lips of his two brothers, both of whom had 
 marched in 1813, in common with most young men of good 
 families, as volunteer riflemen, and returned as wounded 
 officers. 
 
 The one, cured of his wounds, rejoined his regiment; an- 
 other of my brothers and myself followed the call of govern- 
 ment to enter the army as volunteers, though our age would 
 have exempted us from all obligation. Which regiment 
 should we choose? Of course one which was garrisoned 
 near the enemy's frontier, so that we were sure not to have 
 
 where he drew up the Declaration of Independence, and is shown as such to 
 visiters; yet Mr. Jefferson himself, in a letter to Dr. Mease of Philadelphia, 
 states, that he wrote that instrument in the second story of the house at the 
 south-west corner of Market and Seventh Streets. He then boarded there. 
 It was at that time a two or three story building, but it is now four stories 
 high. — EniTon. 
 * In his Narrative of an Attempt to reach Repulse Bay. — Editob. 
 
( 100 ) 
 
 a peaceable campaign in a distant reserve. There was a regi- 
 ment among the troops near the frontiers of France which 
 enjoyed a peculiarly high and just reputation; its name was 
 Colberg, bestowed upon the brave band in honor of its va- 
 liant defence of the fortress of Colberg, in the year 1806 — 
 the only Prussian fortified place at that wretched time which 
 did not surrender to the French. It was composed of brave 
 and sturdy Pomeranians, a short, broad-shouldered, healthy 
 race. In more than twenty "ranged" engagements during 
 the campaign of —13 and -14, had they shown themselves 
 worthy of their honorable name. My brother and myself 
 selected this regiment. When the day appointed for the 
 enlistment of the volunteers arrived, we went to my father 
 and said, "Well then, we go; is it with your consent?" "Go 
 to your mother," he replied. We went to her; our hearts 
 were big; she had suffered so much during the first campaign. 
 With a half-choked voice I said, " Mother, we go to be en- 
 rolled, shall we?" She fell into our arms, that noble wo- 
 man, worthy of the best times of Rome, and sobbed aloud. 
 *'Go," was all her bleeding heart allowed her to utter; and 
 had she been the mother of twenty sons, she would have 
 fient them all. 
 
 A table was placed in the centre of a square in the city of 
 Berlin, at which several officers were enlisting those who 
 offered themselves. We had to wait from ten to one o'clock 
 before we could get a chance to have our names taken down; 
 the throng was so great. 
 
 In the beginning of the month of May, we were marched 
 from Berlin to our regiments. My mother, my sisters, 
 and brothers were calm when we took leave; tears would 
 burst out of their burning eyes, which had wept the live- 
 long night; but they did all they could not to make the 
 parting too painful to us. My father accompanied us to 
 the place of rendezvous. When the bugle called us to the 
 lines, we looked for him, to take the last leave; he had 
 stolen himself away. A great many people accompanied 
 us out of the city; the beautiful Brandenburg gate was soon 
 
( 101 ) 
 
 behind us; we began to sing. I looked but forward, happy 
 that it was yet my lot to carry arms in defence of my country. 
 
 On the 16th we passed the Rhine. With all the feel- 
 ings of veneration with which a German of the north will 
 ever regard that noble and classical river, when he sees it 
 for the first time, was mixed in our breasts a glowing of 
 patriotism such as )^ou may expect to find only in one whose 
 morning of life had fallen in that exciting time. On the 
 25th of May we passed in review before Prince Bliicher, in 
 Namur. On the 26th we marched to a village called Voistin, 
 and were incorporated with our regiment. Its colonel re- 
 ceived us with a calmness which almost bordered on cold- 
 ness; he was always so. In the most trying moments, or when 
 the cry of victory was raised after a long and doubtful strug- 
 gle, his face betrayed no emotion. Our men called him Old 
 Iron, yet they loved him for his justice and bravery, and 
 his love of his men. Every man of the army or navy will 
 understand me. 
 
 On the second of June we had our first parade with the 
 regiment, and the colonel declared that we had the bear- 
 ing of old soldiers; he was satisfied with us.* We longed 
 to be tried. I saw on that day, for the first time, the wo- 
 man who was sergeant in our regiment, and distinguished 
 herself so much that she could boast of three orders on her 
 gown, when, after the peace, she was married, in Berlin, to 
 another sergeant. In a second regiment of our brigade was 
 another girl serving as soldier; but she was very different 
 from our sergeant; her sex was discovered by mere accident; 
 she had marched instead of her brother, that he might sup- 
 port their aged parents. Y6u probably recollect Pochasca, 
 and the girl who followed her lover to the army, fought by 
 his side, was known to nobody but him, was wounded and 
 discovered herself only just before she breathed her last in 
 the Berlin hospital, — to the Princess William. 
 
 • The infantry volunteers, who were all riflemen, formed separate com- 
 panies, called detachments, one of which was added to each battalion or re- 
 giment, according' to the number who had enrolled for a certain regiment. — 
 Editor. 
 
( 102 ) 
 
 We marched to Longueville, seven leagues from Brussels. 
 On the 9th we received lead to cast our balls, the rifles being 
 of different calibre, as each volunteer had equipped himself. 
 It is one of the most peculiar situations a man of reflecting 
 mind can be in, when he casts his balls for battles near at 
 hand. 
 
 In the evening I was lying with two comrades, one of 
 whom was a Jew, in a hay-loft; the crazy roof allowed us to 
 see the brilliant stars. We spoke of home. "My father," said 
 the one, " told me he was sure he would not see me again, 
 though he never attempted to keep me back," and, added 
 he, " I feel as if I should fall." A ball entered his forehead 
 in the first battle, and killed him on the spot. The second, 
 the Jew, said, " Nobody has told me of my death, yet I be- 
 lieve I shall remain on the field." He fell at my side, in the 
 battle of Ligny, before he had fired a shot — a ball cutting his 
 throat. " And I," said I, " shall be brushed, but, I think, 
 shall return home, though with a scratched skin." Thus, 
 strangely every prophecy of that night was fulfilled. 
 
 On the morning of the 15th the general was beaten; hostili- 
 ties had begun on the 14th. We marched the whole day and 
 the whole night. In the morning we arrived not far from 
 the battle-field of Ligny; we halted. Before us was a rising 
 ground, on which we saw innumerable troops ascending 
 the plain with flying colors, and music playing. It was 
 a sight a soldier loves to look at. I cannot say, with 
 Napoleon, that the earth seemed to be proud to carry so 
 many brave men, but we were proud to belong to these 
 brave and calm masses. Orders for charging were given; 
 the pressure of the coming battle was felt more and more. 
 Some soldiers who carried cards in their knapsacks threw 
 them away, believing that they bring bad luck. I had never 
 played at cards and carried none, but this poor instance of 
 timid superstition disgusted me so, that I purposely picked 
 up a pack and put it in my knapsack. Our whole company 
 consisted of very young men, nearly all lads, who were im- 
 patient for battle, and made a thousand questions in their 
 
( 103 ) 
 
 excited state to the old, well-seasoned sergeant-major, who 
 had been given to us from the regiment. His imperturba- 
 ble calmness, which neither betrayed fear nor excited cou- 
 rage, but took the battle like a drilling, amused us much. 
 
 We now marched again, up the sloping plain, and by one 
 o'clock, in the afternoon, arrived on the battle-ground. Our 
 destiny was first a trying reserve; the enemy's brass played 
 hard upon us; shell shots fell around us and took several 
 men out of our column. We were commanded to lie down; 
 I piqued myself on not making any motion when balls or 
 shells were flying over us. Behind us stood some cavalry; 
 one of their officers had been a near neighbor to us in Ber- 
 lin. He rode up to me and asked me to write home should 
 he fall, he would do as much for me should I be shot down. 
 He soon after fell. We longed most heartily to be led into 
 the fire, when our officer, a well-tried soldier, for we had not 
 yet exercised our right of electing our own officers, as none 
 of us had sufficient experience, spoke these few words: " My 
 friends, it is easier to fight than to stand inactive exposed to 
 fire; you are tried at once by the severest test, show then that 
 you can be calm as the oldest soldiers. My honor depends 
 upon your conduct. Look at me, and I promise you, you 
 shall not find yourselves mistaken." At length, at about 
 two o'clock, an aide of the general of our brigade galloped 
 up to our column, and said to the colonel: " Your column 
 must throw the enemy out of the left wing of the village."' 
 Presently the colonel rode up to us and said, " Riflemen, you 
 are young,! am afraid too ardent; calmness makes the soldier, 
 hold yourselves in order;" then he turned round: "March !" — 
 and the dull, half-sufibcated drum, from within the deep co'- 
 lumn, was heard beating such delicious music. Now, at last, 
 was all to be realized for which we had left our homes, had 
 suffered so many fatigues, had so ardently longed for. The 
 bugle gave the signal of halt; we were in front of the village 
 of Ligny. The signal was given for the riflemen to march 
 out to the right and left of the column, and to attack. 
 
 Our ardor now led us entirely beyond the proper limits; the 
 
( 104 ) 
 
 section to which I belonged ran madly, without firing, toward 
 the enemy, who retreated. My hindman* fell; I rushed 
 on, hearing well but not heeding the urgent calls of our old 
 sergeant. The village was intersected with thick hedges, 
 from behind which the grenadiers fired upon us, but we 
 drove them from one to the other. I, forgetting altogether 
 to fire and what I ought to have done, tore the red plume 
 from one of the grenadiers bear-caps, and swung it over 
 my head, calling triumphantly to my comrades. At length 
 we arrived at a road crossing the village lengthwise, and the 
 sergeant-major had now succeeded in his attempt to bring us 
 somewhat back to our reason. There was a house around the 
 corner of which he suspected that a number of French lay. 
 " Be cautious," said he to me, " until the others are up," but 
 I stepped round and a grenadier stood about fifteen paces 
 from me; he aimed at me, I levelled my rifle at him. " Aim 
 well, my boy," said the sergeant-major, who saw me. My 
 antagonist's ball grazed my hair on the right side; I shot 
 and he fell; I found I had shot through his face; he was dy- 
 ing. This was my first shot ever fired in battle. 
 
 Several times I approached old soldiers in the battle, to ask 
 them whether this was really a good sound battle, and when 
 they told me, as heavy a one as Dennewitz, one of the most 
 sanguinary engagements in which our regiment or, in fact, any 
 regiment had ever fought, I was delighted. All I had feared 
 was, that I should not have the honor of assisting in a tho- 
 rough battle. I observed a hog and a child both equally be- 
 wildered; they must have soon been killed, and as I never can 
 omit observing contrasts, I noticed a bird anxiously flying 
 about its young ones and striving to protect them in this 
 tremendous uproar and carnage. A degree of vanity, I re- 
 member, made me in the beginning of the battle, feel very 
 important, when I thought that a man's life depended upon 
 
 • Riflemen, who attack as tirailleurs and never shoot without aiming, are 
 placed two by two together. These couples assist each other, one charges 
 whilst the other aims, and vice versa. One of them is called tlie fore-man, 
 the other liind-man. — Editor. 
 
( 105 ) 
 
 my trigger. After about an hour, I was calmed down, and 
 got the proper Irempe* I felt a parchuig tliirst, and disco- 
 vering a well, I took a canteen from the knapsack of a 
 dead soldier, contrived to fasten it by thongs obtained in a 
 similar way, to a pole, and drew up some water. A cap- 
 tain, seeing me, partook of it, and made some remarks about 
 my calmness, which made me feel proud. It happened 
 where the fire was briskest. — But I cannot tell you all the 
 details of the fight, and what a soldier personally does in a 
 battle, so bloody and so long as that of Ligny; how many 
 of my friends I have seen falling dead or wounded around 
 me, how desperately we fought on both sides for the pos- 
 session of the village; and how the troops against us were 
 three times renewed, while we received no succour. Suf- 
 fice it to say, that the battle lasted in all its vigor until dark. 
 The village was four times taken and retaken; the last 
 time we had to march in a hollow way, which leads across 
 the centre of the place, and where the struggle had been the 
 hottest all the afternoon. Three or four layers of dead and 
 living, men and horses, impeded the progress of the soldiers, 
 who were obliged to wade in the blood of their comrades, 
 or to trample upon wounded enemies, imploring them to- 
 give some assistance, but to whom they were obliged to 
 turn a deaf ear, whatever might be their feelings. This 
 last attempt to regain the village, when I was called upon to 
 assist in getting a cannon over the mangled bodies of com- 
 rades or enemies, leaping in agony when the heavy wheel 
 crossed over them, has impressed itself with indelible horror 
 upon my mind. I might give you details such as 3'ou have 
 seen in no picture of a carnage,* by whatever master it was 
 painted; but why? 
 
 All my ammunition was exhausted except one ball, which 
 I was anxious to save, should any cavalrist attempt to sabre 
 me. It was impossible for me to get new ammunition, and 
 so I was obliged, for more than an hour, to be present at the 
 
 • Temper of steel. — Editor. 
 14 
 
( 106 ) 
 
 fire as a mere spectator. I would not have gone back on 
 any account, though the commander of our company once 
 advised me to do so. In the course of the battle, one of my 
 friends had, in the heat of the engagement, put his ball into 
 the rifle before the powder. It is one of the most painful 
 things that can happen to a young soldier. There is a kind 
 of stigma or suspicion attached to this mishap; besides, 
 who likes to leave the battle? Yet I advised him to go back 
 and get the ball extracted. " I'd rather fight the whole day 
 with a stick," he exclaimed. He then took the gun and am- 
 munition from a dead Frenchman, and fired the enemy's 
 own balls until he fell. I now tried to do the same, but though 
 guns enough were strewed on the ground, I found no car- 
 tridge box with ammunition. 
 
 Toward evening the cavalry began to press us more and 
 more; to regain the village was impossible; our troops were 
 thinned to the utmost; it became dark; the bugle blew to 
 retreat, when horse grenadiers approached to charge us. 
 The signal was given to form heaps.^ It was now, when 
 retreating, that our men began for the first time to show 
 uneasiness. The colonel observed it by the irregular beat 
 of the gun, when he commanded " Ready." But as if he 
 were on the drilling place, he said, "Your beat is bad; 
 have we drilled so long for nothing? down with your guns; 
 now, 'Ready;'" and every man was calm again. Treat 
 good soldiers soldier-like, and good sailors sailor-like, and 
 you may always depend upon them. The cavalry charged, 
 but we received them according to the rule, " No firing 
 until you see the white of their eyes;" and they were re- 
 pelled. My brother had been wounded in the foot and was 
 obliged to ride the night through on the pointed cover of 
 
 • Infantry forms, at the approach of cavalry, regular squares; but, when 
 troops are so thinned and dispersed as the regiment Colberg- was toward the 
 end of this battle, or, when the attack of cavalry is too sudden and unex- 
 pected to admit of their regular formation, mere heaps ai'e formed; that is, 
 the infantry run together and imitate a squai'e as well as they can. — 
 Editor. 
 
( 107 ) 
 
 an ammunition car. He assured me afterwards he had an 
 uncomfortable ride of it, which I willingly believe. 
 
 Of our whole company, which, on entering the engage- 
 ment, mustered about 150 strong, not more than from twenty 
 to thirty combattans remained. The old soldiers of our regi- 
 ment treated us ever after this battle with signal regard, 
 while, before it, they had looked upon us rather as beardless 
 boys. We marched all night. On the seventeenth we at- 
 tempted twice to go to bivouac, but were twice disturbed 
 by the enemy. Suffering greatly from hunger, we made a 
 meal of raw pork, having met with a hog. 
 
 Toward evening I was sent with some others to get what- 
 ever might be obtained in the shape of victuals, from the sur- 
 rounding villages. It was a sad charge ! In one house, stripped 
 of every thing, we found a young woman with an infant, by 
 the side of her father, who had been beaten and wounded 
 by some marauding enemies. She asked us for a piece of 
 bread; we had none. We gave her some potatoes which we 
 had just found, but she said she had nothing to cook them 
 with. We received this day the order of the army, in which 
 Bliicher spoke in high terms of the conduct of the infantry 
 during the battle; our regiment was singled out by name. 
 
 We marched a great part of the night. Rain fell in tor- 
 rents; it had rained the whole of the 17th; the roads were 
 very bad. Early in the morning of the 18th we found part 
 of our regiment from which we had been separated. It was 
 a touching scene, to see the soldiers rushing to each other, 
 to find comrades whom wc had believed to be dead or miss- 
 ing. Our men were exhausted, but old Bliicher allowed us 
 no rest. We began early on the 18th our march. As we 
 passed the marshal, wrapped up in a cloak and leaning 
 against a hill, our soldiers began to hurrah, for it was always 
 a delight to them to see the " Old one," as he was called. 
 "Be quiet, my lads," said he; "hold your tongues; time 
 enough after the victory is gained." He issued this morn- 
 ing his famous order, which ended by assuring our army 
 that he would prove the possibility of beating two days after 
 
( 108 ) 
 
 a retreat, and, with inferior numbers; and which concluded 
 with the words, ^'We shall conquer because we must con- 
 quer." 
 
 We entered the battle with Bliicher in the afternoon: 
 you know the history of this memorable day. It had 
 been again our lot to stand, unengaged for some time, in 
 sight of the battle; we saw some brilliant charges of our 
 cavalry putting to rout French squares. Not far from us 
 stood the huzzars, commanded by Colonel Colomb. An aide 
 came with the order to charge a square. " Volunteers, ad- 
 vance!" called the colonel, — intending to form the body 
 for the attack of volunteers, — when the whole regiment, as 
 if by magic, advanced some steps. He was obliged to order 
 a company in the common way. Numerous wounded 
 passed by us while we stood there inactive. Marshal Blii- 
 cher rode by, and when he observed our uniform, said, "Ah, 
 my Colberger, wait, wait a moment, I'll give you presently 
 something to do." 
 
 We suffered dreadfully from the cravings of hunger. I 
 found a peasant in the cellar of a house near the road, and 
 threatened to shoot him instantly unless he gave us bread. 
 He assured us he had none. I told my comrade to hold 
 him, while I would seem to prepare to shoot him; he brought 
 ys a small loaf. No one knows what the enjoyments of the 
 palate are, who has not really suffered from hunger or thirst. 
 Let a shipwrecked man, who floated for many days with the 
 scantiest supply of water, under the scorching rays of a ver- 
 tical sun, tell you what he suffered, and describe to you what 
 lie felt, when, for the first time again, he could quaff the de- 
 licious crystal liquid, without the jealous eyes of his fellow 
 sufferers fixed upon him, counting with the envy of a maniac 
 each draught he takes. It is in such moments we receive 
 an enjoyment, which ever after gives us a different view of 
 the senses through which we obtained it. They then ap- 
 pear to us in their true light, sanctified by all their impor- 
 tance and necessity in the great world of creation ; we then 
 see how their subtle organization forms a powerful means 
 
( 109 ) 
 
 of connecting scattered elements, and our inmost soul per- 
 ceives that they, too, are the gifts of a great God. 
 
 It was heart-rending to halt, as we did in the evening, on 
 the field of battle after such blood-shed. Fires were lighted, 
 that the wounded might creep to them. I found a hen- 
 house, got in, and the door shut after me; I heard the signal 
 for march, and my anxiety was great when I found I could 
 not get out. It was perfectly dark; I groped about, but, to 
 my utter discomfiture, I found no way of escape. At last 
 I set up a tremendous shouting, and after awhile succeed- 
 ed in attracting the attention of some of our regiment, who 
 delivered me from my unpleasant situation, and enjoyed a 
 hearty laugh at my expense. 
 
 The great body of the Prussian and English armies 
 marched toward Paris; but half of our army corps, to which 
 I belonged, received orders to pursue Vandamme, who had 
 thrown himself upon Namur. We marched the whole of 
 the 19th; the heat was excessive, and our exhaustion and 
 thirst so great, that two men of our regiment became de- 
 ranged in consequence. We chewed clay, over which the 
 artillery had marched, and thus had pressed out its mois- 
 ture by the wheels of the cannons. In my despair I even 
 made the attempt — but I could not. 
 
 No soldier is allowed by the regulations, when marching 
 through a place, to step out of the ranks or to drink from 
 wells on the road; but when we marched in the course of this 
 day through Gemblours, where the people had placed large 
 tubs before their doors, filled with water, officers and privates 
 fell pellmell upon them ; some drank their last draught. Such 
 was the impression then made upon me by the consuming 
 thirst, that, for a long time after, I was unable to see liquid 
 of any kind, without feeling an intense desire to swallow it, 
 though I might not at the time feel thirsty. At four o'clock 
 in the afternoon we went to bivouac; we started early again, 
 and now my strength forsook me. I could not keep up with 
 the troops, and began to lag behind; it was a most painful 
 feeling to me, but I could not do otherwise. I tried to get 
 
( 110 ) 
 
 hold of a cannon: an artillerist, pitying my appearance, wished 
 even to take me on the cannon, but his officer would not 
 permit it. Suddenly, at about noon, I heard the first guns; 
 the battle of Namur had begun. Heavens, and I not with 
 my corps! My strength was suddenly restored; I ran across 
 a field, in which the balls of the enemy were mowing down 
 the high wheat, toward the commander of our brigade, whom 
 I espied on an elevation. I asked him, " Where is my re- 
 giment?" He very angrily turned round: "Who disturbs 
 
 me here during the engagement? go to the d ," but as 
 
 soon as he began to observe me more narrowly, my ex- 
 hausted appearance, my youth, and particularly when I 
 quickly said, " Sir, I ask, because I want to fight," he bent 
 down from his horse, stroked my face, and said, in a mild 
 tone, "What do you want, my rifleman?" I repeated my 
 question; he showed me where I had to go, gave me to 
 drink, and called after me, " Come and see me after the bat- 
 tle: do you understand?" " I do," said I. Two minutes af- 
 ter he fell. He was a most kind officer, and the soldiers said 
 he treated the riflemen too kindly. 
 
 When I arrived where my regiment stood, or, as I should 
 rather say, the little band representing it, I dropped down, 
 but fortunately one of my comrades had some eggs, one of 
 which gave me great strength. Our colonel came up to us, 
 saying, " Riflemen, you have twice fought like the oldest 
 soldiers; I have to say nothing more; this wood is to be 
 cleared; be calm — bugleman, the signal!" and off we went 
 with a great hurrah ! driving the French before us down a 
 hill toward Namur, which lay on our front. My hindman 
 — like his predecessor — was killed. When I saw our men 
 rushing too fast down the hill, I was afraid that some enemies 
 might be hid under the precipice to receive them. Hold- 
 ing myself with my left hand by a tree, I looked over the 
 precipice, and saw about seven Frenchmen. " They will 
 hit me," I thought, and turning round to call to our soldiers, 
 I suddenly experienced a sensation as if my whole body 
 were compressed in my head, and this, like a ball, were 
 
( 111 ) 
 
 quivering in the air. I could feel the existence of nothing 
 else; it was a most painful sensation. After some time, I 
 was able to open my eyes, or to see again with them; I 
 found myself on the ground; over me stood a soldier firing 
 at the enemy. I strained every nerve to ask, though in 
 broken accents, whether, and if so, where I was wounded. 
 " You are shot through the neck." I begged him to shoot 
 me; the idea of dying miserably, half of hunger, half of my 
 wound, alone in the wood, overpowered me. He, of course, 
 refused, spoke a word of comfort, that, perhaps, I might yet 
 be saved, and soon after himself received a shot through both 
 knees, in consequence of which he died in the hospital, while 
 I am now writing an account of his sufferings here, in Ame- 
 rica. 
 
 My thirst was beyond description; it was a feverish burn- 
 ing. I thought I should die, and prayed for forgiveness of 
 my sins, as I forgave all; I recollect I prayed for Napoleon; 
 and begged the Dispenser of blessings to shower his bounty 
 upon my beloved ones; and, if it could be, to grant me a 
 speedy end of my sufferings. All my relations passed be- 
 fore my mind. I received a second ball, which entering my 
 chest, gave me a more local pain than the first; I thought 
 God had granted my fervent prayer. I'perceived, as I sup- 
 posed, that the ball had pierced my lungs, and tried to breathe 
 hard to hasten my dissolution. At several periods I heard 
 soldiers passing by and making their remarks upon me, but 
 I had no power of giving any sign of life. A boy, the son 
 of a colonel, was led by an old soldier past me; I could see 
 them dimly, and heard the boy exclaim, " Oh, my father 1" I 
 heard afterwards that his father had been killed, and the se- 
 cond in command had sent the boy out of the fire. 
 
 I now fell into a deep swoon; the ideas of approaching 
 death, the burning thirst, and the fever, created by my 
 wounds, together with the desire which had occupied our 
 minds so often during the last days, of seeing once more 
 good quarters, produced a singular dream, which was as 
 lively and as like reality as it was strange. I dreamt that 
 
( 112 ) 
 
 I had died and arrived before the gates of heaven, where I 
 presented my billet. St. Peter looked at it, and I was ad- 
 mitted into a wide saloon, where an immense table was 
 spread out, covered with the choicest fruits, and with crys- 
 tal vessels filled with the most cooling beverages. I was 
 transported with joy, yet I asked, " Do people here eat and 
 drink?" St. Peter answered, that those who wished to 
 enjoy these refreshments, as was probably my case, were 
 at liberty to do so, but that those who were unwilling to 
 partake of them, felt no evil effects in consequence; life was 
 possible there without food I went to one of the crystal 
 bowls, and drank in deep draughts the refreshing liquid. 
 I awoke, and found a soldier bending over me and giving 
 me out of his canteen what I long believed to be wine, so 
 deliciously and vivifyingly did it course through every vein. 
 But at a later period I happened to meet the same soldier, and 
 learned that this reviving liquid was simple water. It was 
 extremely hot, and the wounded suffered very much; but 
 this heat, so painful to us, saved perhaps my life, since with- 
 out any bandage over my wounds, I soon must have bled to 
 death, had not the clogged blood served instead of a ban- 
 dage, and stopped in a measure farther bleeding. 
 
 I succeeded in expressing to the soldier my wish that he 
 would return with some men to carry me away; he pro- 
 mised to return, but did not. I again became senseless, and 
 when I awoke found myself digging in agony in the 
 ground, as I had seen so many of the dying men do in the 
 previous battles. I shuddered, and prayed once more for a 
 speedy dissolution. I had, fortunately, in my agony and 
 struggle, turned from the precipice; had I turned toward 
 it, I must inevitably have perished. My situation, on a de- 
 clivity, was such that I could see into the plain of Namur, 
 and I was rejoiced, when I saw by the fire that our troops 
 had, by this time, hard pressed the enemy. 
 
 My strength was fast going, and when, toward evening 
 I was awakened by the peasants sent to collect the wound- 
 ed, but who found it more profitable to plunder the dead or 
 
( 11^ ) 
 
 such of the wounded, as could ofter no resistance, and to 
 throw both into the fosses, the common grave of friend and 
 foe, I could not speak; I felt as if a rock was weighing 
 upon every limb and muscle. They searched for my watch 
 and money, and rudely stripped me of m}^ clothes, which 
 increased my pains and renewed the bleeding of my 
 wounds. At last I was enabled to move my eyelids, and 
 this motion, as well as, probably, the expression of my look, 
 showed them that not only was I living, but that I was suf- 
 ficiently sensible, to be aware of all the horrors of my situ- 
 ation. One of them said, "./?/«, mon camarade, tu es dans 
 un etat quHlfaict que tu creves!'^ When they had nearly 
 finished their w^ork, I heard a loud threatening voice, a shot, 
 and a scream of one of the peasants, upon which they all 
 absconded. Soon after a soldier of the Westphalia militia, 
 himself wounded, dragged himself toward me. He had 
 seen the peasants at their nefarious work, and fired upon 
 them. He saw my helpless situation, and when he espied 
 a surgeon below in the valley, he called to him to come 
 and dress my wounds. "At this hour work is left off,"* 
 he replied, and proceeded on his way. My protector in- 
 tended to fire at him also, but his wounds prevented him 
 from loading quickly enough. He promised me to return 
 soon with assistance. I feared he would not return, and saw 
 him, with a heavy heart, disappear behind the trees; but he 
 did not deceive me. 
 
 At about 9 o'clock he returned, — painful as it was to him 
 to walk, — with some peasants, who dressed me with the 
 clothes of the dead around me, and made a litter, by means 
 of guns; upon which they carried me into the valley, to a 
 farm where the surgeons were. All the lint had been used, 
 and it was necessary to cut open the uniform I had on, and 
 employ the wadding of it as a substitute. A sutler tried to 
 make me eat small crumbs, but I could not move a single 
 muscle without great pain. 
 
 * Es isl jezt Feierabend. — Enrroii. 
 15 
 
( 114 ) 
 
 A short time after, a false alarm spread that the French were 
 coming up again; wounded soldiers are full of apprehension, 
 and the rumor was believed. I implored my kind friend, 
 for I had, by this time, somewhat recovered my speech, to 
 take me away; I feared nothing so much as to be taken pri- 
 soner when wounded. He fetched a wheelbarrow, made to 
 carry lime, got me into it, as well as he could, and carried 
 me to a fcirm at a distance from the main road. My pains, 
 during this time, were excruciating; my bandages fell off. 
 On the road to this farm w^e met a wounded sergeant of my 
 company. I heard the militia-man ask him whether he 
 knew me; he answered in the negative, and I could not tell 
 who I was. My head had struck against the wheel, and my 
 wound had bled anew. " Poor fellow," said the sergeant, 
 " may God assist you;" then, addressing the militia-man, I 
 heard him express his serious doubts as to the possibility of 
 my recovery, but requesting him to take care of me as long 
 as I should be alive. 
 
 The house to which I was taken, was full of wounded; my 
 kind companion tried to make some room for me on the 
 ground; it rained hard, and we were exposed to the incle- 
 mency of the weather. In the morning, my friend left me 
 after having recommended me to the care of an officer of our 
 regiment, shot through the belly. Toward noon a coal-cart 
 arrived, to take some of the wounded to Namur; the officer 
 was carried into it ; and I then heard him say, " Fetch that 
 rifleman:" but those who were to execute his order, took 
 another in my place, and I could not speak loud enough to 
 correct the mistake. 
 
 By the time that evening arrived, the number of the 
 wounded had gi-eatly diminished; all who could carry them- 
 selves to town, had done so. Late in the evening, the pro- 
 prietor of the house — an old man — came, slowly and shy- 
 ly, into his own house. He made some porridge, and in a 
 manner, which betrayed much feeling, tried to feed me, but 
 I could eat but very little. The poor old man had himself 
 a son in the army. 
 
( 115 ) 
 
 On the 22d every one was carried out of the house ex- 
 cept myself and three others, with equally bad wounds. We 
 had not strength to make ourselves sufficiently noticed when 
 the carts arrived. We remained together the whole day in 
 silent companionship; the old man had left the house soon 
 after he had attempted to feed me. On the 23d, in the 
 forenoon, I resolved to creep out of the door, should I perish 
 in the attempt, in order to stand a chance of being seen by 
 passengers. It must have been more than two hours before 
 I succeeded in reaching the road, though but a few rods 
 from the house; I fell from one swoon into another. Many 
 persons, passing by, threw money to me, but what was I to 
 do with money? At last two soldiers of my company, who 
 had remained in Namur, to have their rifles repaired, passed 
 by. They could not recognise me by my features, because 
 my face was incrusted with blood and earth, but they knew 
 me by my boots, which tlie plundering peasants had not 
 succeeded in pulling off It was my custom, in order to 
 protect the soles of my boots, to drive nails in, all over them, 
 and every evening I used to put in a new nail, wherever I 
 found the head of an old one gone. This had given them 
 almost the appearance of a steel plate, and as they could be 
 plainly seen by passers by, did me the essential service I 
 have mentioned. 
 
 As soon as the soldiers recognised me, they managed to 
 get a stable-door, begged a wounded soldier, who was pass- 
 ing by, to serve as my escort, and obliged four persons go- 
 ing by, to carry me toward Namur. Whenever we came 
 across any one on the road, one of my carriers was allowed 
 to depart, and the new comer obliged to take his place. 
 When we arrived at the house where my wounds had been 
 dressed on the evening of the 30th, we found a cart lite- 
 rally crowded with wounded French; but it was necessary to 
 make room for me, and it was accordingly done. The dipping 
 motion of the two-wheeled cart, the jolting on the paved 
 roads, such as they are in that country, was excessively an- 
 noying to us, and made the French scream lustily, at which 
 
( 116 ) 
 
 a soldier of our regiment, the only Prussian besides me in 
 the cart, and himself very grievously wounded, swore in 
 great anger. 
 
 When we entered the city of Namur, the inhabitants 
 showed much kindness to us; so much, indeed, that it be- 
 came annoying. One man, I think he was a hair-dresser, 
 insisted upon washing my face, though I told him that eve- 
 ry touch he gave caused me great pain. The French were 
 carried to their hospital, but the Prussians were obliged to 
 proceed. We were taken to the Meuse, where two vessels, 
 chained together, received the wounded. Two girls en- 
 deavored here to dress my wound; and changed my shirt, 
 stiff with blood, for a clean one. I thanked the kind souls; 
 and they gave me, in addition, some currants. In the ves- 
 sel I found many of my comrades. The sun was very hot. 
 Toward evening, the vessel in which I was drew water; 
 besides which it rained. We suffered much. At Huy, 
 where we arrived at about midnight, we received some 
 bread, but we wanted surgeons. 
 
 In the morning, at about eight o'clock, we arrived in 
 Liege; the inhabitants received us with all possible kind- 
 ness. I was carried into a house, where I found four or 
 five wounded, and two young ladies busy in dressing them; 
 some of the wounds were already in a most disgusting state. 
 After they had dressed me as well as they could, I said 
 to one of my comrades, a school-mate of mine, that I 
 needs must try to get to the hospital; my wounds required 
 proper attendance. He, wounded as he was in the thigh, 
 tried to support me in getting there; but soon after we had 
 left the house, I fainted away. A lady, who found me in 
 this state, ordered me to be placed on a litter, and when 
 my consciousness returned, I found myself on my way to 
 the hospital, which was established in an old convent. — Tht; 
 large bell was rung, the doors opened, and I was carried into 
 the yard; I felt very unhappy. The hospital was so full, 
 that I was placed, with many others, on straw in the yard; 
 besides, the uniform I now had on did not show my rank. 
 
( 117 ) 
 
 Every morning a cart would enter into the yard, stop in the 
 centre, and the driver would pass along the straw, to see 
 who was dead. If he found one whose life was extinct, he 
 pulled him out and carried him to the cart. The living 
 were very quick to show by their motions, that they were 
 not yet ready for the cart. 
 
 At length, I succeeded in getting a place in the same bed 
 with another. Close to my bed lay a dragoon, whose left 
 arm, shoulder, and part of the chest had been carried away 
 by a shell shot, so that part of the interior could be seen; it 
 was the most cruel wound I have ever beheld. Some time 
 after, a few men, some with one arm, some with one leg, 
 some otherwise wounded, would amuse themselves by 
 marching up and down the long rooms, commanded by 
 some gay wooden leg. So light-hearted is the soldier. It 
 was found necessary to prohibit these mock drillings. 
 
 I vvas once present in the amputation room, when a ser- 
 geant, after his leg had been taken off, exclaimed, drawing 
 his pipe, " Why, the fire is gone out after all." Perhaps, it 
 was from affectation that he said it, but it was, at all events, 
 soldier-like affectation. 
 
 I had had a letter of introduction and credit to a gentle- 
 man in Liege, whom it was now very important for me 
 to see, in order to obtain the means of leaving the hospi- 
 tal; but my memory failed me entirely. The cutting off 
 of several nerves descending from the brain, and the ball 
 grazing the skull, must have been the causes; I only re- 
 gained it afterwards by degrees. But even if I should be 
 able to find him, would he recognise me? Others had not 
 known me in my sad guise; why should he? Yet I was de- 
 termined, at least, to make the trial. I took a large stick, 
 and slowly dragging myself along, left the hospital. I was 
 obliged often to rest on the steps in the street, and people 
 showed invariably great kindness toward me. A woman 
 who sold fruit took a particular fancy to me, swore a king 
 ought to be hung for allowing such lads as I was to take 
 arms, and overwhelmed me with caresses, which I was in- 
 
( 118 ) 
 
 t'apal)le of parrying;- People very often put money into my 
 
 hand, anil did ni)l know what to mako of it, wluMi I refused 
 accepting it. 
 
 On three different days 1 nrade the attempt to tlnd the 
 genthMuan I was in ipiest of, hut did not succeed. At hist^ 
 on tl\e fourth trial, 1 found the house; 1 rung the hell with 
 small hope of success. When the servant opened the gate, 
 tl^e gentleman happened to stand on the piazza, and imme- 
 diately called me hy name. JMy sull'erings were now, for 
 the present, at an end. He gave me as much money as I 
 wanted; I obtained ipiarters in town, and walked every day 
 to a place where any soldier could get his wounds dressed. 
 While 1 lay wovuuled in Liege, one of my brothers was in 
 the hospital of Brussels, and another in Aix-la-Chapelle — 
 just distributed in a triangle. 
 
 After I had been a considerable time in Liege, 1 met 
 with one of our company, who told me, tliat, while I Avas 
 carrieil on the litter to the hosj)ital, he followed on anotlier, 
 the bones of one of his arms having been shattered; that 
 after I had passed a certain corner, his carriers were 
 beckoncil at by a buly ; the} carried liim into the house; it 
 belonged to one of the richest wine merchants of the city. 
 He met with the utmost kindness in his house, especially 
 from the young lady, about sixteen yeai'S old. He was glad 
 to tind me, because he could not with case converse with 
 her. I went: Julie, — this was her name, — had the look of 
 an angel. Alert whenever she could do any thing for my 
 woundeil comrade, anil not shunning labors, even tlie most 
 dist2;usting, — she prayetl for him, when she could not be of 
 anv active service. Often, when painful operations were 
 performing on him. and her assistance was not required, she 
 would kneel before her crucifix in a neighboring room, and 
 pray for the assistance of Him who can heal all pains. I 
 have ever since been unable to imagine an angel without 
 her features. 
 
 It was not long before I went daily to her house. I 
 was delighted at linding this being after such rough hand- 
 
( 'ly ) 
 
 ling; the contrast was immenso. On the other hand, my 
 great youth for a uniform — the down iianlly budding on 
 my chin — and with a wound of a peculiar kind, such as is 
 seldom seen — shall I add, that we fell in love with each 
 other? 
 
( 120 ) 
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 Though I remained for a long time under the physician's 
 care in Liege, I returned as soon as possible, — and too soon 
 for my health, — to my mother, as our soldiers used to call 
 their company, appropriately expressing in this homely way 
 the warm attachment which an honorable soldier feels to- 
 ward his comrades, officers, and regiment; toward that body 
 in which alone he " is worth his price," and out of which 
 he is an insulated nullity. Our physicians were continually 
 obliged to guard against deceptions, when making out the 
 lists of convalescents. 
 
 The company is the soldier's home; there he knows every 
 body and is known by all; and what a feeling, when, — as a 
 battery is to be taken, or some other hard work to be done, — 
 the colonel looks round for a few seconds and says. Take 
 the third or fourth — in short, the company to which you 
 belong! A similar feeling extends of course over the whole 
 regiment, and, in like manner, as the uniform is of great 
 importance, because it strengthens the feeling of uniformity 
 and of honor, and produces a care not to " disgrace the 
 coat," so is the name, given to a particular regiment in honor 
 of some signal actions or other worthy deeds, of great effect. 
 Mere numbers are too abstract: a regiment which has often 
 stood well the hardest buffetings, will, indeed, confer a pe- 
 culiar signification upon such a number. There were, for 
 instance, in Napoleon's and Wellington's armies, regiments 
 
( 121 ) 
 
 whose mere number needed only to be mentioned to awaken 
 in every breast a soldier-like feeling; yet a name is more 
 pithy, more significant — and affords an admirable means of 
 rallying in times of danger. When, late in the afternoon of 
 the ISth, our regiment passed Prince Bliicher, he turned to 
 his aide-de-camp, " Colberg?" — " Yes, your grace," was the 
 answer, and the old man took off his hat in token of respect 
 for bur regiment. There were some moist eyes, I can as- 
 sure you. With what a thrilling joy does not a sailor hear 
 the name of his vessel; and where is the man in the whole 
 navy, where is the American in the whole Union, who 
 would not grieve to see the name of a vessel, which has be- 
 come the nation's favorite, for instance, of a Constitution, 
 changed for another not yet historical? Why are the names, 
 at least, of famous ships, preserved in the various navies, 
 when the vessel herself cannot be kept afloat any longer? 
 Should we have war again. Congress might find a fit means 
 for acknowledging the services of the most distinguished 
 regiments, or rewarding those who suffered most, in bestow- 
 ing upon them peculiar names, taken from the places of their 
 hottest actions, or given in memory of our greatest men. 
 Regiment Washington would not sound badly. 
 
 Owing to my returning to the regiment before I was 
 able to support its duties, I fell sick again. I underwent 
 an attack of the worst kind of typhus fever, and was sent 
 to the hospital at Aix-la-Chapelle. I was in a state of un- 
 consciousness when I was brought into it, and remained so 
 for several days. W^hen I awoke, and for the first time re- 
 turned to consciousness, I found mj^self in a long room, 
 "the Fever Station," in which there were above sixty beds, 
 ranged along both sides. Thus, again separated from my 
 company, and from every human soul of my acquaintance, — 
 for my brother who took me to the hospital could not re- 
 main there, — the knowledge of my being in the worst of 
 all the rooms of an hospital, and the atmosphere which car- 
 ried with it to the senses the quick conviction that I was 
 
 once more surrounded by sick and dying, made a deep im- 
 
 16 
 
( 122 ) 
 
 pression upon me. I saw an old man by the side of my 
 bed, whom I immediately recognised for one of the nurses, 
 and asked him where I was. He answered in French that 
 he did not understand me. [ repeated my question in 
 French, and he told me, " In the hospital of Aix-la-Cha- 
 pelle." " What day is it?" " Christmas morning." Sud- 
 denly all the many thousand associations, connected in the 
 mind of a German with Christmas, burst upon me, and, 
 weakened by disease, I cried bitterly.* The old nurse, — 
 
 * Christmas is the most joyous festival in Germany, especially in the Pro- 
 testant parts. In Italy, childi'en, as is the custom in the U. States and in 
 England, I think, hang up a stocking, into which, during night, the Beffana, 
 an imaginary woman answering to the American cryskirtgle, is said to put 
 presents. The name Beffana is a coniiption of Epiphanias, and the chai'acter is 
 represented in the ch-oUcst ways, generally by men, in the streets of many Ita- 
 lian places, in Rome, on the fifth of Januaiy, and thereabout. But in Ger- 
 many the making of presents is of a character quite different. Six weeks 
 before Christmas, children, and grown people too, begin to " wish," i. e. to 
 intimate or openly to tell what presents they particularly desire. They con- 
 sist, with children, mostly of toys. The nearer the time di-aws, the more mys- 
 tery is there among families; packages come in, whose size and form are 
 sci-utinized b_v the children; yet none dare to open them, because every 
 thing of the kind is considered taboo in this season. Sisters seek a hidden 
 corner in the house, or go to some aunt to work secretly a purse, a handker- 
 chief, or other articles for members of the family or friends; some have re- 
 hearsals of farces, written among themselves, others of living pictures; con- 
 spiracies are going on to find out what some person particularly wishes, or to 
 steal a book to have others bound in the same way, &.c. At last, Christmas 
 arrives, when, either on Christmas eve or on the morning of the feast, all pre- 
 sents are "laid out," or " built up," as the German phrase is, on large tables, 
 in the centre of which stands the Christmas tree, an evergreen, with many 
 tapers, and under which often the birth of the Savior is represented by figures 
 on moss. When the parents have arranged every present they have them- 
 selves to give, or which has been handed to them by the different members 
 of the family for others, all the tapers are lighted, and the doors flung 
 open. If there are grandparents in a family, " the building up " with 
 them generally takes place on Christmas eve; and what a noise there is 
 when all the grandchildren are assembled and tiy their toys! The pa- 
 rents give their presents in such case on Christmas morning. There is no 
 bachelor, no young student, separate from his own family, that will not par- 
 take in the Christmas joys in some family or other. We fear it is necessary 
 
( 123 ) 
 
 Frangois was his name, — kindly tried to comfort me, and 
 you will imagine that the mere idea of being surrounded by 
 soldiers, and being myself one, soon checked the sad cur- 
 rent of my feelings. But I will not dismiss this subject 
 without expressing my gratitude to good old Francois. He 
 will never know it, and, were he to read this, what would 
 this paper gratitude be to him? But it is to satisfy myself 
 that I give vent to my feelings. How often hast thou tried 
 to calm me, when, watching out of thy time at my bed, I 
 asked what o'clock it was, and, irritated by fever and inter- 
 rupted sleep, was angry with thee that it was not yet morn- 
 ing! Kind old Francois, how ready thou wert to do any 
 service for me, though thy old age made walking a heavy 
 task to thee. How often hast thou begged the physician 
 to allow me a larger portion, when, in a convalescent state, 
 my appetite went in its demands, far beyond what a judi- 
 cious treatment could allow me! The grave has probably 
 closed by this time over thee. Be thy memory ever dear 
 to me. 
 
 It was not long befoie my sickness took a favorable turn, 
 and I literally suffered, — as I have already hinted, — from a 
 craving appetite. I was on half ration, and could not ob- 
 tain more, though every morning and evening I would ask 
 for a whole ration when the physician made his round. Re- 
 
 to be a German, to feel with the author In the above passage. We will only 
 say to those who cannot undcvsland him, tliat they may believe us, when we 
 assure them that there is on Christmas in Germany a universal stir of kind 
 feeling" among the people toward each other. Every one endeavors to learn 
 the wishes of others and secretly to prepare a pleasure, for which the little 
 ones will empty their saving boxes, the larger ones paste and paint lamps 
 and other ornaments for the Christmas tree, and the sisters work busily 
 at embroidery, &c., so much so, that we know several instances when 
 young ladies were occupied with fine work so late at night for many weeks, 
 that their eyes and general health suffered in consequence. Every thing 
 can be abused. Perhaps, our readers are not aware of the fact, that German 
 ladies far surpass others in skill, taste, and ingenuity in all kinds of needle 
 and other work fit for ladies, and that they are ever ready to give pleasure to 
 those around them, by delicate attentions evinced ir making such kind of 
 work. — Editor. 
 
( 124 ) 
 
 duced in strength, and young as I was, I had not sufficient 
 judgment and energy to resist the cravings of my appetite, 
 and began to ask my fellow patients for pieces of bread 
 which they had left. With greater anxiety have I seen 
 there a piece of bread travel from bed to bed through all the 
 sick hands before it reached me, than I now wait for the 
 most savory canvass-back duck. I did not deviate with 
 impunity from the physician's prescriptions; I suffered a 
 relapse, which brought me so near to the grave that I was 
 given over. But, — as I believe you know, — I survived, 
 and still remain among the living. 
 
 I might give you some good stories of high and low life 
 in an hospital. The good table of the surgeons, — where I 
 often dined, after I was somewhat restored to health, — the 
 interest which grows up among those who have been long 
 together in a room, — the childish disobedience of the soldier 
 who will lay out his wits to obtain by stealth a herring from 
 without, — the preaching of some to their brethren, the fan- 
 tastic processions of others, — but this is not the place for it. 
 
 I was carried, before my restoration, to the hospital of 
 Cologne, and found again there an apothecary, who had al- 
 ready in Aix-la-Chapelle evinced the warmest interest for 
 me, and without whose kind care, I think it probable I 
 should not write these lines to you. 
 
 It was here in the hospital of Cologne that I, for the first 
 time in my life, drew from my own experience a conclu- 
 sion, which at every subsequent period has been confirmed; 
 namely, that ignorance creates distrust, and, if you extend 
 it, want of knowledge makes us incapable of acting. As 
 in the physical world we must know, before every thing 
 else, time and place — the importance of which is impressed 
 so deeply on our mind, that a traveller, awakened from sleep 
 by the stopping of the stage-coach, starts up with the words, 
 Where are we? What o'clock is it? — so is it impossible for 
 us to make a safe step in any occupation or enterprise what- 
 ever, if we have not a just knowledge of our situation. 
 
( 125 ) 
 
 Thus, many acts of genius are considered as demonstrations 
 of great boldness or moral courage, while, in fact, it is to 
 the sagacity of genius which enables its owner to see far- 
 ther than others into the means of safety, as into all other 
 things, that the attempt is due. — But, to give the instance 
 which taught me the above truth in an hospital. 
 
 Soon after I was so far restored as to be able to sit in 
 my bed, soldiers would re{|uest me to write for them to 
 their families, which I did with much pleasure, because, 
 besides the service I thus rendered them and their friends, 
 I became the father confessor of my older comrades, and 
 the agreeable surprise which they generally manifested, 
 when I read the letter to them, at my having so well ex- 
 pressed what they wished to say, but had not been able 
 to communicate to me, was ample reward for my trou- 
 ble. All went on well, until one day, after having read one 
 of these letters to a most stupid fellow, wiio had not yet 
 sent home the least information of his having escaped with 
 a wound from all the murderous battles, I jocosely said, 
 " You don't believe I wrote all this? I gave quite a different 
 account of you." Enraged he tore the letter, and I never 
 succeeded in convincing him, that what I said was meant as 
 a joke; and that I could have no interest in giving a bad ac- 
 count of him, even sh6uld I dare to do it. Distrust was 
 raised in him, and his powers were too limited to obtain a 
 proper view of the case. The fool's wit is incredulity, as 
 Raleigh says. The same happens every day between go- 
 vernments and nations to whom the former neglect to afford 
 the means of gaining knowledge. 
 
 It was not until long after peace had been concluded, that 
 I was so far restored to health as to l)e able to travel home. 
 My family had given me up; letters had miscarried, and the 
 last news they had heard of me, was of a kind to encourage 
 them but little; so I truly gave them a surprise. Having ar- 
 rived in Berlin, I went home on foot from the post-office; the 
 streets, the houses, the shops, every thing the same, and yet 
 looking so differently to me. In one year I had grown older 
 
( ^2G ) 
 
 many years. I stepped into the house and looked around; 
 it was all as before; the scenes of my childhood, the walls 
 which enclosed the persons dearest to me; I went slowly 
 
 up stairs;* I opened the door; "Ah! ," cried my sister, 
 
 and fell into my arms. — Now, I had a dog with me, which 
 a dragoon, who died in the bed next to mine, in Aix-la-Cha- 
 pelle, had bequeathed to me with the broken accents of a 
 man who is fast going. The animal had been at Waterloo, 
 where it lost the end of its tail by a ball; I loved the beast, 
 so did he me, and when he saw my sister hanging at my 
 neck and sobbing, he thought it was high time to defend his 
 master; so he flew at her, most mercilessly tearing her gown, 
 until I saw it and, fortunately, before he did injury to her- 
 self. The exclamations of my dear sister, the howling of 
 the dog, perhaps my own words, soon attracted all the other 
 
 members of my family, and almost but where am I? 
 
 Am I writing my biography? Come, come, let's leap from 
 Waterloo and Berlin to New York again. 
 
 A scene which strikingly proves the brisk and constant 
 communication between New York and foreign countries, 
 is exhibited on board the steamboat, which, on packet days, 
 takes the passengers to their various vessels, waiting at an- 
 chor in the stream. Some years ago, I made the round in 
 one of these steamboats, as more packets than usual hap- 
 pened to start on the same day. I remember, among others, 
 the Liverpool London, Havre, Hamburg, and New Orleans 
 packets, besides, there were vessels going for Mexico, Ha- 
 vana, Rio de Janeiro, and Calcutta Contrary winds had 
 bound them, and other vessels, for a long time It was in- 
 teresting to see how differently the prospect of the voyage 
 
 • Houses on the continent of Europe are often Inhabited by several fami- 
 lies, and generally open. The ringing of the bell, therefore, is not necessa- 
 ry to obtain admission, which, by the way, has some influence upon social 
 intercourse, in our opinion. Intrigues could not possibly be so frequent 
 in France and Italy, among many classes, had the visitor always to ring the 
 bell, and thus to attract the attention of the servants, before he could enter. 
 — EmTOR. 
 
( 127 ) 
 
 affected the passengers. Some young travellers looked beam- 
 ing with joy at the pleasures they expected from a journey 
 in Europe; others, agents who had crossed the Atlantic many 
 a time, looked perfectly indifferent, whilst the eyes of some 
 ladies showed that they had taken leave from those for whom 
 their hearts yearned. A French agent was still engaged in 
 folding up his samples, neatly pasted on morocco, and re- 
 capitulating, with a friend, his last instructions. I heard, 
 close to me, four languages at once — English, German, 
 French, and Spanish, which, with the addition of Italian, 
 you may hear almost any day, in Broadway, at the hours 
 when it is most frequented. 
 
 When walking in that long street, which gives to New 
 York the character of a crocodile, all the limbs of which 
 seem but created as secondary appendages to its im- 
 mense spine, I have often been reminded of the question 
 which Mr. Niebuhr's little daughter asked me, as I was 
 strolling with her in the streets of Naples, then occupied by 
 the Austrian army, composed of Hungarian grenadiers, Bo- 
 hemian artillery, German musqueteers, Illyrians, and I don't 
 know of what others, of whom that military olla potrida con- 
 sisted. Besides, there were some Italian and Swiss troops 
 in town. The little girl saw a soldier in a uniform she had 
 never seen before, and, in an Oriental style she asked me, 
 " Di che lingua I queslo soldato?^^* 
 
 • Of what tongxie is this soldier? — Editok. 
 
( 128 ) 
 
 LETTER YIII. 
 
 I LOVE to see large cities rise out of bed ; we see a num 
 
 ber of curious things when the still morning makes his pre- 
 parations for the noisy day, and a populous place rubs her 
 eyes. A small window is opened, and an old woman peeps 
 out; an aged man goes to the pump to fetch water; the little 
 chimney sweeper — a forsaken being all over the globe — 
 sings his shrill tune; the gardeners come in with their vege- 
 tables; the wagonner gets ready to start; some stalls are 
 opened, of course, such as sell things to eat, because to sa- 
 tisfy the stomach is always and every where the first wish of 
 man. Then the hucksters appear; at last, a grisette of a fa- 
 shionable house looks out of the window, with the duster in 
 her hand, sees what weather it is going to be, and satisfies her 
 curiosity by looking into the street. The iceman comes; the 
 baker rings the house bell; the carrier trots along with the 
 morning paper, and gradually one profession appears after 
 the other on the stage of the day, until every thing is once 
 more in the fair road of toil and bustle, and, at length, the 
 boisterous letter carrier raps at the door, as if he were the 
 lictor of a Roman consul. The transition of one day into 
 the other is not less interesting. At one and two o'clock 
 the seranaders retire, and the bill-sticker appears with his 
 burden of large papers and the paste pot Love keeps man 
 the longest awake, gain drives him the earliest out of bed. 
 It is curious to observe the diflference in this respect be- 
 
( 1^9 ) 
 
 tvveen different cities. In Naples, as soon as the doors of 
 the small houses are opened, the whole family is out in the 
 street; there the little urchins wait with bowls, in which 
 they have crumbs of bread, for the man to bring their break- 
 fast in his buckets, or all start together to some woman at 
 the corner, to take it there; in Rome, the man with horse's 
 and ass's meat, on a pole over his shoulder, whistles, and 
 every cat appears before her door, patiently waiting with a 
 high-arched back and tail erect, for her turn; she never in- 
 trudes upon the territory of her neighbor. When the cats 
 are satisfied, the milkman comes, not with cans, but with the 
 cows and goats themselves, to milk the liquid, which all 
 mankind loves, into the servant's pitcher, somewhat re- 
 minding you of Eldorado. I have seen, in other places, 
 asses brought before the doors of the consumptive, that they 
 might have the salutary milk fresh from the animal; but in 
 Rome, I suspect, dislike of labor is the only reason. In 
 London, you see breakfast tables, with tea and coffee (mercy 
 on the throats which have to swallow it) steaming and 
 inviting the passers by; in Paris, the old gentleman, with 
 small-clothes and striped stockings, takes his breakfast, also, 
 in the open air and reads his paper, which the New York 
 cartman peruses in driving down from the upper city to 
 the busy part. But, generally speaking, the early morning 
 in New York does not offer so many various sights as large 
 European cities; people take their breakfast comfortably 
 at home; no women or men cry. Potatoes! Mackerel! Old 
 Clothes! Hair Skins! Maccheroni! Now and then, though 
 seldom, a person may be found in that city who offers his 
 articles thus screamingly. In Boston, you never meet with 
 it, but in Rome there are so many of these peculiar cries, 
 and screams, that they have been set in music; and, in Na- 
 ples, it seems, nothing can be sold, without crying and 
 clamoring it about. I saw once, in the Toledo,* a man who 
 
 " Chief street of Naples. The name comes from the times when Naples 
 was governed by Spanish viceroys. — Editoii, 
 
 17 
 
 # 
 
( 130 ) 
 
 had to sell a broken iron mortar, and what a noise he made 
 with his pestle and tongue together! 
 
 I made my early tour through the streets of New York, 
 not forgetting the harbor, and then proceeded to one of the 
 most frequented markets. You know my 'penchant for mar- 
 kets, prisons, steeples, by-ways, and old women. The mar- 
 kets show you how the people live, the prisons how they 
 punish, the high steeples teach you geography and topogra- 
 phy from nature, by-ways tell you many things on which 
 highways are silent, and old women tell you every thing 
 you want to know. 
 
 How many a long conversation have I had with some old 
 " messenger woman," in Europe, and, in return, they always 
 have considered me " a very nice young man." One day, 
 I walked from Eisenach and Luther's Wartburg,* to Mark- 
 suhl; I met the old Botenfrau of some place in the neigh- 
 borhood, carrying, in the large basket on her back, pots, 
 bread, clothes, brushes, blacking, hams, and I do not know 
 what motley collection besides. She was all kindness to 
 me, told me of her late husband, who had been a soldier, 
 and whom she had accompanied as sutler, (all his battles 
 were fought over again,) of her daughters' marriages, the 
 rent she paid, the excellent cow she had; (for people who 
 have a cow think her always the best, as a captain considers 
 his vessel always the fleetest, be she slow as a fly in win- 
 ter;) in short, I soon was enabled to write a complete bio- 
 graphy of my eloquent companion, who invited me to take 
 dinner with her. But when we came to a steep hill, and I 
 
 * When Luther returned, in 1520/from the diet of the Germart empire at 
 Worms, the elector of Saxony, his prince, justly feared that the safe conduct, 
 promised by the emperor, would not be kept toward the reformer. He or- 
 dered, therefore, some persons to waylay the latter, and carry him to Wart- 
 burg, a castle in the Thurlngian Forest. Luther himself did not know that 
 he was carried there by his own protector. In this solitude of the forest, 
 Luther worked at his vei-sion of the bible. Beautiful as tlie spot is, it is of 
 great interest to all Germans, and visited by every pedestrian and other tra- 
 veller in the centre of Germany. — Editok. 
 
 ^T 
 
( 131 ) 
 
 asked whether I should not carry her burden up to the top, 
 she flew into a passion, that I had not considered her equal to 
 her profession. At an end was all our amiable intimacy; I 
 had offended her in the vital point of her honor, distrusted 
 her capacity of acting up to her calling; I had called Alex- 
 ander a coward. 
 
 You mentioned, in one of your letters, that 1 should never 
 allow a striking instance of moral or intellectual power to 
 pass by without communicating it to you. The old woman 
 above reminds me of such an instance, and here it is. A 
 friend of mine had a colored cook, with whom she was sa- 
 tisfied in every respect; she believed, in turn, that the cook 
 was satisfied on her part, since she had to provide but for a 
 small family. Nevertheless, one day, the cook told her that 
 she wished to leave her house. "And why?" asked the 
 lady, with surprise, knowing that she had given no cause for 
 complaint. " Because," answered the superintendant of the 
 kitchen, " there are no large dinners or suppers given in 
 your house." The fact was, the active mind of the cook, con- 
 scious of thoroughly understanding her art, felt uneasy that 
 she could not bring its powers into action. If you consider 
 that the cook has no gain or profit whatever in large dinners, 
 but only more labor, you will allow that it would not be 
 bad for the world, were every one, in his sphere, propelled 
 by that zeal and activity which gave impetus to the mind of 
 this humble individual. 
 
 Never omit, my friend, to go, in the course of your jour- 
 neys, and even, from time to time, at home, to the market. 
 It is an index, not to be neglected, of the state of a great 
 many things, important in national economy, and, besides, 
 you see an assemblage of farmers and laboring men, whose 
 behavior and customs you have thus an opportunity to ob- 
 serve. What an advanced state of the whole art of farm- 
 ing does not a single, huge cheese, well made and carefully 
 prepared, such as you see here or in England, indicate! If 
 you see fresh and clean butter laid out on white, neat boards, 
 and vessels near it, with bright, polished br^iss hoops, and 
 
( 132 ) 
 
 hear not a single rude word, or see a single coarse gesture, 
 from the persons who brought all this to the market, you 
 may safely conclude that their farms and homes are under 
 good management. If you see poultry or calves' feet neatly 
 prepared, or the fresh vegetables piled up in good order, 
 displaying, perhaps, even some taste in the arrangement, 
 you may safely conclude that the venders cannot be a lazy, 
 good for nothing set of people. If you see mountains of 
 turkeys, or of beef, sold by butchers, in clean, white linen 
 frocks, you may set it down, for certain, that the people, on 
 the whole, must live well, especially when you see, at the 
 same time, an abundance of produce, which comes hundreds 
 of miles distant, or fish brought up from sea, at considerable 
 expense.* If you hardly meet with a single constable, and he 
 but in common dress, without arms, leisurely walking about, 
 you may believe that the people are pretty well-behaved. 
 But, when you see many police officers and gend'armes 
 walking about with attentive mein; when you see half-na- 
 ked beggars picking up here a cabbage-leaf, there a brown 
 piece of stringy meat, or when, perhaps, you meet with a poor 
 insane wretch amusing the sellers and buyers by her frantic 
 movements, when you hear screaming, and scolding, and 
 coarse language, and can discover no neatness, or no great 
 variety of produce, no fruit beyond its most common size, 
 no vegetable out of season — set down the people as one with 
 whom the farmer is yet but in the first stages of agriculture, 
 and the lower classes have little education. 
 
 Savarin, in his inestimable Physiologie du Gout, in my 
 opinion one of the finest recent productions, gives, as his 
 fourth aphorism, " Dis-moi ce que tii manges, je te dircii 
 ce que tu e.9."t This is truer still of nations or communi- 
 
 • To come to this conclusion, it is not necessary that salmon should be 
 sold at two dollars and a half a pound, and its owner refuse fifty dollars for 
 the whole fish, as was the case in the Boston market, on April 23d, 1833. — 
 — Editor. 
 
 ■j- Tell me what thou eatest, and I'll tell thee what thou art. The whole 
 titlt of this work, which we, too, have perused, to our infinite pleas>ire and 
 
( 133 ) 
 
 ties than of individuals. I have always liked to observe on 
 what people live, and how they live, and had all those who 
 have declared the Italian a lazy farmer, — while it can be 
 proved that he is one of the very first farmers in the world, 
 — visited, with me, the Roman pizzicagnolo and seen the 
 great variety of excellent articles, which require labor and 
 nicety, they would not have sweepingly charged the Italian 
 farmer with sloth. There are some parts of Italy utterly 
 neglected I admit, but even the Neapolitan — that being, 
 whose sole desire is to enjoy himself, see him in the field, 
 walk through the Campagna Felice, and then say whether 
 he is a farmer or not. But the best farmer is found near 
 Turin. I advise you to read a work by Mr. Chateauvieu, 
 a gentleman sent by Napoleon to report on the state of agri- 
 culture in Italy and Germany, He was acquainted with 
 English husbandry, too; and he declares the farmer of the 
 fertile parts of Piedmont, the first in the world, as to the cul- 
 tivation of the ground, not the breeding of live stock. Often 
 has Mr. Niebuhr said to me, when travelling through Italy, 
 " There see; the Italians always were pre-eminently an agri- 
 cultural people. The Romans are often represented as mere 
 soldiers; this is essentially wrong; they were farmers and 
 loved farming; we find the proof in many of their first men 
 and best writings." 
 
 You may think that if I like so well to view markets, 
 it must have been easy for me to fall in with the Ameri- 
 can custom, according to which, gentlemen often go to the 
 market to designate what shall be sent home. I cannot say 
 I relish the custom. I rather leave this to some one else, 
 though, at the same time, you ought to remember that going 
 to the market here is very different from what it would be 
 
 great profit, is, " Physiologic du Gout ou Meditations de Gastronomie 
 Transcendante,- Ouvrage theorique, hisiorique et a tordre du Jour. D6di4 
 aux Gastronomes parisiens. Far un Professeur, Membre deplusieurs So- 
 cieties Suvantes. Paris. The author is Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, late judg-e 
 of the Court of Cassation, member of the Legion of Honor, &c. &c. — Enr- 
 
 TOR. 
 
( 134 ) 
 
 on the continent of Europe, and though, I may add, I am 
 far from considering a proper attention to our viands be- 
 neath a thinking man, as you in Germany are but too apt 
 to do, and the consequence of which is, that cookery is no 
 where in a less favorable state than in the interior of Ger- 
 many. It has always appeared to me very curious that a 
 man is called a benefactor of his country who improves 
 agriculture; that we take the greatest trouble to improve the 
 breed of our cattle, hogs, &c., by agricultural societies, — 
 that we consider horticulture worthy of the patronage of 
 the most elevated men, that we are at great pains to im- 
 prove fruits, wine, flour, &c., that we speak with pleasure in 
 all public prints of the introduction of a new vegetable, that 
 we glorify in comparing the variety of garden and field 
 fruits, now at our disposal, with the scanty supply of a cen- 
 tury ago; — and that only when the moment at length arrives 
 for which all the pains have been taken, and all the atten- 
 tion has been bestowed — the actual consumption of the va- 
 rious articles — that then only should it be considered be- 
 neath an elevated mind to attend to the matter with any 
 degree of judgment or relish. Is that not important, which 
 returns at least three times every day with every human 
 being? Why is it not unworthy of a man of superior mind 
 to pay proper care to his razors that they may shave smooth- 
 ly? The ancients did not think as we do: Cato bestowed 
 attention on cookery, and many families had names indi- 
 cating the care some one of their forefathers had taken to 
 introduce a new vegetable, and the people's gratitude in 
 consequence. 
 
 It is likewise altogether erroneous to suppose gourmets 
 and friands to exist only in the higher classes, whose pa- 
 lates are spoiled. On the contrary, the lower classes are 
 greater lovers of good dishes than the higher. Listen to 
 a farmer when he talks of a peculiarly good kind of corn, 
 " How sweet it tastes;" of a hog, he raised and ate last 
 Sunday, smacking his lips and assuring you " he never ate 
 a finer pig in all his life." Look at the brightness of his 
 
( 135 ) 
 
 eye when he tells you of excellent ale, or fine wine, and 
 then tell me, whether he loves good things or not. If I 
 hear a man boasting that he cannot find any difference be- 
 tween a good and poor dinner, and that he engulfs it in 
 five minutes, I pity him, that nature left his tongue and 
 throat unprovided with those fine nerves of taste, to feel the 
 great variety of salts, by which the different nutriments af- 
 fect us, with pleasurable or unpleasant sensations; and be- 
 lieve that she intended him for a shark, which swallows, 
 pell-mell, every thing whole and entire, rather than for a 
 human being. Who boasts of having received from nature 
 dull ears which are unable to discriminate good music from 
 bad? It is these nerves of the tongue and palate which en- 
 able man to distinguish and relish so many different tastes, 
 that mainly impelled him to master nature and maintain 
 himself the lord of the creation, for, without them there 
 would be no cultivation, industry, or commerce. 
 
 Of what use is it to try to depreciate the value of a culti- 
 vated taste, when every thing around us, and every language, 
 proves the great importance attached to it by all nations; 
 and how powerful the sensation is, which is received by 
 means of this delicate sense? The word taste itself is ap- 
 plied to the most refined objects of a moral and intellectual 
 character. We hardly can speak of the commonest affair, 
 of the most abstract, of poetr}^, or of religion herself, with i 
 out constantly borrowing words which originally refer to 
 impressions, received by means of that wronged instrument 
 of sensation. " Sweet boy," " dear, sweet mother," does 
 it not sound sweet? Is not this word even applied to the 
 highest being whom our religion reveals? Does not the bitter 
 cup of sorrow, when mentioned, convey a meaning which 
 we cannot express by any other words? Who does not feel 
 at the expression Attic salt, all the acuteness of wit of the 
 gifted people to whom it refers? You can not only use with 
 great success all ideas, supplied by the sense of taste, in a 
 metaphorical meaning, such as "bread of life," "well of 
 
( 136 ) 
 
 life," but we use every day words, with which we cannot 
 dispense, and yet they are derived from the sensations we 
 owe to the nerves of taste and those nearly related to it: — 
 satisfied, disgusting, pungent, insipid, sour and sweet (tem- 
 per,) tasteless, surfeited, to relish an author, &c.; while many 
 expressions are hardly any longer metaphorical, so much has 
 constant use effaced their original meaning: as, for instance, 
 many of the above, and besides, among others, thirsting, 
 food of mind, craving for novelty, &c. Nor has religion 
 refused to imbody the act of taking nourishment into her 
 rites, as the paschal lamb, agapes, &c., and the founder of 
 our religion calls his disciples the salt of the earth. Let us 
 not, therefore, treat the sense of taste with superciliousness, 
 but rather give it its proper rank as we would to any thing 
 else. 
 
 What keeps not only body and soul together, but the dif- 
 ferent classes in a nation, and connects nations with one 
 another? Throw a glance at the industry of a people; how 
 many are employed in providing for — the stomach, and how 
 many, not directly employed in this way, make instruments 
 for the use of the farmer? Commerce exists mainly by the 
 wants of the mouth; property receives value from these 
 wants; and, in short, civilization, as well as our preservation, 
 is intimately connected with — our appetite. 
 
 Of no place in the world, perhaps, have we more accurate 
 statistics than of Paris. They are obtained at a price at 
 which we should not like to collect them, though much more 
 attention ought to, and will be, in course of time, directed 
 to statistics with us, without which a great part of all legis- 
 lating remains but a groping in the dark. But let us make 
 use, at least, of the valuable materials obtained in this line 
 by others. Galignani's New Paris Guide communicates, 
 from official reports, a mass of interesting statistical details, 
 of which I will only give you a few; you may draw the 
 conclusions yourself. They relate to the year 1826. 
 
( 137 ) 
 
 For rent, was paid 3,166,666£ st, j °^ ^^ shillings for 
 
 ' ^ C each inhabitant. 
 
 Annual maintenance ( _„, arc + lo 1 -n- « 
 
 J . ^, I 791, 666£ St., or 18 shillings. " 
 
 and repairoi houses ( ° 
 
 Food 12,221, 150£ St., or 13£ " « 
 
 The various items under this principal head are enume- 
 rated in the official paper, and you may imagine how inte- 
 resting they are. The expenditure on clothing amounts to 
 one-fifth of that on food, namely, to 2,444,230£, or 55 shil- 
 lings 4 pence for each inhabitant. Fuel, 1,674,375^, or 38 
 shillings 3 pence each. Washing, l,24G,S75£, being 28 shil- 
 lings 6 pence for each person. Lighting, Furniture, Salaries 
 for servants, &c., form other items of these documents. If 
 you now consider how much of the fuel is used for cook- 
 ery, and that the expense for clothing, in a city like Paris, 
 is much greater in proportion to the expense for food than 
 in the whole country of France besides, you will find what 
 part all gastric concerns play in the social life of our spe- 
 cies.* 
 
 If people in general would pay more attention to the sub- 
 ject of cookery, the true principle of which is, as in all si- 
 milar cases, to develop by art the peculiar character of each 
 given subject, imprinted upon it by nature, we should not 
 be tormented with so many senseless dishes, nor ruin our 
 health, as is the case in Germany, with meat boiled until no 
 juice is left in the white strings, or roasted until it looks like 
 bread found under the ashes of Pompeii, nor in the United 
 States with dishes swimming in fat; but we would endeavor 
 to have on our tables juicy dishes with the flavor and aro- 
 ma, which nature, in her wisdom, has given to each. 
 
 In general, it may be said that American cookery has 
 somewhat engrafted the French upon the English, the capi- 
 tal dish of which is roast beef, all others being secondary; 
 in the same way as the English call hanging, capital punish- 
 ment, and all the rest of punishments secondary. However, 
 
 • The reader will find ample extracts of these very interesting statements 
 in Part XXVII. of the London Penny Magazine. — Editor. 
 
 IS 
 
( 138 ) 
 
 honor to English cookery! No other nation has found 
 out how to treat meat in its proper style. The Americans 
 have the finest materials for a plentiful and savory table, 
 some of which do not grow at all, or not so plentifully in 
 Europe; for example, tomato or the egg-plant: and much 
 might be done, were not cookery allowed to go on in its old 
 way, but received proper atitention from reflecting people. 
 I do not mean to say that they ought to imitate an acquain- 
 tance of mine, who goes, when first the oysters appear, 
 from shop to shop, and selects among bushels of them but 
 one, and the only perfect one among the bushels, in each 
 shop; but I do mean to say, that health and many other 
 considerations require that proper attention be given to the 
 subject.*- 
 
 • That readers in Europe may not suppose we are altogether starving in 
 tills country, in good things, as they might be led to do from the accounts of 
 some travellers, we here insert the following, cut at random out of a Phila- 
 delphia newspaper. It is the bill of fare of the American coffee house, of 
 December 25th, 1833. 
 
 "2 saddles Bears' Meat; 2 saddles Fine Mountain Venison; 2 saddles Alba- 
 ny Mutton; 500 Terrapins — large size, very fine; 40 pair Canvass Back 
 Ducks; Pheasants, Snipe, Woodcock, Red Necks, Black Duck, Broad Bills, 
 Mallard, Dried Salmon, Young Ducks, Vermicelli Soup; Chickens — Barba- 
 cued and Fricasseed; Squabs — Stewed and Barbacued; Sweetbreads; Sweet- 
 breads Larded, Rabbits; Potatoes — Boiled or Roasted; Spanish Olives; French 
 Olives; Pickles of various kinds; Sardines, Dutch Herring; Tripe and Oys- 
 ters; Oysters — plain, stewed, roasted, broiled and fried; Mutton Chops, with 
 shallots; Lamb Chops — French and English style; Anchovy Toast; Welch 
 Rabbit; Pork Steaks, Beef Steaks, with tomato sauce or onions; Veal Cut- 
 lets; Ham and Eggs; Omelet; Chocolate; Cocoa; Coffee; Tea. 
 
 " A regular supply of Sauces, received direct from London. 
 
 " In addition to the above list of dishes, such arrangements have been 
 made, as will render it possible to serve up all descriptions of Game in their 
 proper seasons, together with every luxury the epicure can desire. 
 
 " N. B. Relishes always ready." 
 
 The following advertisement may find a place here, as it shows how epi- 
 curism tries to mingle with politics in a large city: — 
 
 " Green turtle-soup on Election Day. 
 
 " A fine fat turtle, weighing 250 lbs., will be cooked and served up in 
 soup, steaks, calipash and calipee, on Tuesday next, the 14th instant, the 
 day of the election, &c." — Editor. 
 
( 139 ) 
 
 It is a fact, that the Americans have very small churches 
 and exceedingly large markets. The reason is, that food 
 is the only thing upon which poor mankind can agree. 
 The Presbyterian, the Quaker, the Roman Catholic, the 
 Baptist, the Methodist, the Jackson-man, the Calhoun, the 
 Clay, the M'Lean, the Van Buren men, the federalist, the 
 democrat, the anti-mason, the abolitionist and coloniza- 
 tion-man, the nullifier and the union-man — all meet peace- 
 ably at the same butcher's stall and take meat of the same 
 ox. What neither religious forbearance, nor the love of 
 country can effect, is effected by the palate. Thank heaven, 
 that there is at least one thing on this earth on which people 
 agree. Don't smile at me, I am in earnest. What would 
 become of mankind were not this cement in existence, to 
 hold families, nations, mankind together? 
 
 I will conclude my dissertation on cookery with one more 
 remark, namely, that the dinner, when well prepared, neat- 
 ly arranged, and of savory taste, is of very great moral im- 
 portance with all the industrial classes. There is hardly 
 an hour during which a hard laboring man enjoys his family 
 more, and when his wife has a better opportunity to show 
 that her attention to his comfort is deserving of his industry, 
 than the dinner hour. I have seen man in many situations, 
 but I know of no finer sight than a table, with a clean cloth 
 and a fine piece of meat, and some good vegetables, — all 
 showing the care of the housewife, — when presently the 
 husband comes in, and sitting down with a nice set of 
 children, and thanking the Lord for all his bounty, eats with 
 a hearty appetite, while the wife, with her eyes directed 
 toward him, enjoys the silent praise which his partaking 
 twice and three times of the dish bestows upon her work. 
 
 After breakfast, I went with my brother-in-law, who was 
 to proceed to the West Indies, to see him " out to sea." A 
 pilot-boat followed our vessel, like a dancing and nimble 
 horse led behind a carriage, to take the rider at the spot of 
 separation. Slowly we sailed, with a sluggish breeze, along 
 
( 140 ) 
 
 that beautiful bay, which people have compared to the bay 
 of Naples — why, I cannot say, probably, because every item 
 in its appearance is different. Out of Sandyhook, I enjoyed 
 once more the sea, its vivifying breeze and its expanding 
 sight, the heaving of the billows and the sharp line of the 
 horizon. Did I believe in the migration of souls, I should 
 be sure that I was once a gull, or some sea-bird, enjoying 
 the mighty view from his soaring sails above; or was I a cod, 
 or, perchance, an oyster? I hope not; but, certain it is, that 
 there must be some peculiarity in my nerves which pro- 
 duces a decided sensation of affinity, as soon as I perceive 
 the sea. I remember when I beheld, for the first time, the 
 mighty element, for which I longed in all the dreams of my 
 boyhood; it was from the spire of the city-church of Greifs- 
 walde — I was deeply affected; I sat and gazed, overcome, as 
 when I saw, for the first time, Raphael's Madonna di Sisto. 
 Lost in the pleasure of gazing, I then stood before the hea- 
 venly picture for two hours, when the keeper gently tapped 
 me on the shoulder and told me that the doors of the gal- 
 lery were to be closed. 
 
 The sea is beautiful in itself, yet still more so from the 
 ideas we connect with it. The knowledge that it is not 
 bounded by our horizon, that this same swelling and heaving 
 mass extends from here to China, that billow follows on 
 billow, without end, that it has rolled and roared for years 
 without number, that it connects the most distant nations, 
 and on its back rides history — it is this, it is its glory and 
 its danger, that inspire us with awe or delight. It is the 
 sea we do not behold, as much as that which we espy, 
 which creates this state of our soul, — half feeling, half 
 thought. Otherwise our sensations would be the same on 
 beholding a lake of moderate size, whose opposite shores 
 we cannot discern; and there can be little doubt but that 
 Casper Hauser would have felt as little pleasure, or any 
 other sensation, had he seen the sea, as when he observed, 
 for the first time, gardens and fields; while he wept on be- 
 
( 141 ) 
 
 holding the starlight sky.* This is a much grander sight 
 in itself, but we are accustomed to it, and it does not 
 threaten with destruction; the idea of the unknown deep is 
 not connected with it. 
 
 • Casper Hauser was an individual who had been kept, by some atrocious 
 hand, in a narrow dungeon in Bavaria, from his earliest infancy to about his 
 sixteenth year, shut out from all communication with the world. The ac- 
 quirement of knowledge of this youth when he entered the world is accu- 
 rately described in a small work by Mr. Von Feuerbach, a gentleman of the 
 highest distinction, now deceased. It has been translated and published in 
 Boston, 2d edition, 1833. Since the publication of this work, the poor 
 youth has been murdered, probably by the same hand that had murdered 
 already his childhood. The Earl of Stanhope, who took a great and active 
 interest in Hauser, has published, for private distribution, some additional in- 
 formation on this interesting individual, a copy of which is on its way to us, 
 and we may communicate parts of it to the public. — Casper had, as to the 
 acquisition of notions and knowledge through the sense of sight, to go, of 
 course, through the same processes and gradual acquaintance with the effects 
 of colors on his eyes, as a person, born blind, when restored to sight in riper 
 years. A view of a gaiden or a landscape, which appears beautiful to us, would 
 at first displease him much, until he had learnt to judge of distances, or experi- 
 ence had taught him perspective. A white-washed wall, a red shawl would 
 please him far more. At the same time he never complained of " the man " 
 who had kept him in the dungeon? on the contrary, he was anxious to return 
 to him, when the world burst upon him with its thousand new impressions, 
 and produced that uneasiness of mind and melancholy which are the cause of 
 the consuming home-sickness of a Swiss when he descends from his higli Alps, 
 where he lives in the greatest simplicity. The first time that Casper felt the 
 great wrong committed against him by his barbarous keeper, was when he 
 beheld the starlight sky. It is the passage in the above-mentioned book re- 
 lating to this fact, to which our author, probably, alludes in the words to which 
 we have appended tliis note. We will extract it, for it seems to us of un- 
 common interest: "It was in the month of August, 1829, when, on a fine 
 summer evening, his instructer showed him for the first time the starry hea- 
 vens. His astonishment and transport surpassed all description. He could 
 not be satiated with its sight, and was ever returning to gaze upon it; at the 
 same time fixing accurately with his eye the different groups tliat were point- 
 ed out to him, remarking the stars most distinguished for their brightness, and 
 observing the differences of their respective colors. 'That,' he exclaimed, 
 •is indeed the most beautiful sight tliat I have ever yet seen in the world. 
 But who has placed all these numerous beautiful candles there? who lights 
 them'' who puts them ouf' When he was told that, like the sun with 
 
( 142 ) 
 
 We had Champagne with us, some fowl and a pdte de 
 foies gras, which tasted excellent on the ocean. In the af- 
 ternoon, we made signal to our pilot-boat and wished the tra- 
 veller a happy passage. Two vessels came in with us, both 
 laden with Irish emigrants. They seemed to be in great 
 number, and some in a deplorable state 
 
 They are strange people, these Irish. Hobbes is right, 
 with regard to them at least, that warring is man's natural 
 state. I have seen them here dispute at a game in the streets 
 of the suburbs; as if but a slight occasion had been wanting, 
 and all the coats were ready pulled off, and both parties gird- 
 ed for the fight. The former inhabitants of two Irish coun- 
 ties, I forget their names, had a hard fight in the streets of 
 Philadelphia! A similar occurrence took place while I re- 
 sided in Boston. If I were mayor, on such an occasion, I 
 would let the fire-engines play upon them, and, a hundred 
 to one, they would be cooled down and, perhaps, be ashamed 
 of their brutal folly. But the worst aflfray I ever heard of is 
 the following I must send you the whole account, as I cut 
 it out of the paper, because it shows man in a light in which 
 neither you nor I had ever dreamt to see him 
 
 which he was already acquainted, they always continue to give light, he 
 asked again: 'Who placed them there above, that they may always conti- 
 nue to give lighti" At length, standing motionless, with his head bowed 
 down, and his eyes staring, he fell into a train of deep and serious meditation. 
 When he again recovered his recollection, his transport had been succeeded 
 by deep sadness. He sank trembling upon a chair, and asked, why that 
 wicked man had kept him always locked up, and had never shown him any 
 of these beautiful things. He (Casper) had never done any harm. He then 
 broke out into a fit of crying, which lasted for a long time, and which could 
 with difficulty be soothed; and said, that the man with whom he had always 
 been, may now also be locked up for a few days, that he may learn to know 
 how hard it is to be treated so. Before seeing this beautiful celestial display, 
 Casper had never shown any thing like indignation against that man; and 
 much less had he ever been willing to hear that he ought to be punished. 
 Only weariness and slumber were able to quiet his sensations; and he did not 
 fall asleep — a thing that had never happened to him before — until was 
 about 11 o'clock." — Editor. 
 
( 143 ) 
 
 " Dublin, June 27. — One of the most sanguinary faction- 
 fights that ever disgraced this unhappy country took place 
 on Tuesday, at the races of Ballyheag, thirteen miles from 
 Tralee, between two clans, the Cooleens and the Lawlors, 
 who have been at feud above half a century, and still defy 
 both the law and the gospel, in taking vengeance of each 
 other, whenever opportunity offers, from generation to ge- 
 neration. Rumors of the intended fight having been in cir- 
 culation for some days previous, and information having 
 been given to the country magistrates, they applied to the 
 officer commanding at Tralee, for a force sufficient to keep 
 the peace at the races, i'^cordingly, on the day previous, 
 (Monday,) a strong detachment of the 69th regiment, with 
 three officers, marched from Tralee barracks to Ballyheag, 
 and on Tuesday took up a position on the race-ground, on the 
 bank of the river Cashen, to be ready to interfere on the first 
 symptoms of the expected riot. The two factions soon ap- 
 peared on the ground, in great numbers, but remained quiet 
 till the races were over, at three o'clock. Then the appointed 
 battle began, in earnest, on the river strand, with sticks and 
 stones. A gentleman who witnessed the combat, describes 
 it as one of the most savage and merciless scenes he ever 
 witnessed or could imagine to have taken place in a Chris- 
 tian country. The soldiers could do nothing to stem the 
 torrent of fury and blows that raged on every side. At 
 least, one thousand men were engaged, for, in addition to 
 the resident parties, numbers came from miles around, to 
 take part in the conflict, against men whom they had never 
 seen before, all for the pleasure of a fight. 
 
 "The Cooleens, it appears, received aid from the mountains 
 of Ballylongford, and even some came to join them from the 
 county of Limerick. Captain Hawson, of Ennismore, and 
 other magistrates, present with the troops, caused the Riot 
 Act to be read, but no body would listen to it. The very 
 women were occupied, supplying their friends, on both sides, 
 with stones, which they carried in their aprons! The bat- 
 tle soon spread to such an extent, that neither the soldiers 
 
( 144 ) 
 
 nor police could possibly interfere effectually to separate the 
 parties. By the magistrate's orders, they endeavored to 
 make individual prisoners, and, it appears, that about twen- 
 ty were lodged in Lists well Bridewell, but were not per- 
 mitted to fire a shot. — Indeed, the work of destruction was 
 going on fast enough; no quarter was given, and ghastly 
 wounds were given both to those who fell and to those who 
 stood up. At length, the Cooleens retreated to the river's 
 brink, where many were driven in and drowned. Several 
 attempted to escape by swimming, but were still barbarously 
 pelted by the victorious Lawlors. It was full tide, and two 
 sand-boats on the shore were afloat, into which numbers of 
 the defeated party crowded, and pushed off across the ferry, 
 but, being overladen, they sank, and all on board perished. 
 Four bodies were found next morning at the ferry, and 
 twelve others, men and women, have since been taken up in 
 other parts of the river. It is not yet accurately known how 
 many have been sacrificed, either on shore or in the melan- 
 choly noyades that followed, but eight or ten lay dead on 
 the strand of battle, at the northern side of the river, and 
 their friends on the southern dared not venture across to re- 
 move them. It was expected that another savage conflict 
 (of retaliation) would take place on Wednesday, when the 
 last accounts came from Tralee." 
 
 Oh for the civilized Christians! A stag which fights with 
 a stag, follows the impetus of nature; a knight who "ran 
 sharp," did it to show his skill and gallantry; a robber may 
 be driven by want, or, at least, by the passion of gain, bad 
 and degenerated, yet originally natural; but here — it is too 
 disgusting. 
 
 When I arrived in town, as I had nothing else to do, I went 
 to a bookseller's. Books interest me either by their intrin- 
 sic merit, or as pathological symptoms of the time. There 
 is always something to be learned from them. If I am de- 
 tained in a small place where I have no acquaintance, I in- 
 variably go to the bookseller's, if there is one to be found. 
 Booksellei*s, generally speaking, are, by their very trade, 
 
( 145 ) 
 
 liberal minded men of a certain range of knowledge; and 
 from them you may often learn facts uhich may give you 
 an insight into the disposition or state of society. 
 
 I found with the bibliopolist, a new number of the Pen- 
 ny Magazine; what a clever publication it is! How my boy 
 will rejoice at receiving this new number! it is his best pic- 
 ture-book. If the editors would only be a little less insa- 
 tiate of Gothic churches! However, I am grateful to them, 
 and many others with me. So is the Penny Cyclopsedia a 
 clever book. What mighty engines all these publications 
 are! Some people deride the propagatioii> of knowledge, 
 and the idea of its want being felt by the laboring portion 
 of the community. Let them smile, the world goes on in 
 spite of them; and, though a turn out of London tailors, to 
 enforce a claim for leisure to improve their minds, be fool- 
 ish and a caricature, yet it is a sign of the time, as the cari- 
 catures of the time, properly taken, always are; and Pd ra- 
 ther have a tailor who wants to improve his mind, than Pa- 
 risian women, so ignorant that, in the time of the cholera, 
 they believed in a universal poisoning, and brutally killed 
 suspected persons with their own hands. 
 
 I have sometimes thought a very brief encyclopedia 
 might be written — A Pocket Cyclopaedia on a Hieroglyphic 
 Plan. You have seen the Dictionnaire des Giroueltes,^ in 
 which the name of every French politician is given with as 
 many vanes represented as he has undergone political me- 
 tamorphoses. This plan can be expanded. Is it not signi- 
 ficant enough if we say, A. B , a parson of three kettle- 
 drums; C. D., an orator of five whale-heads or jets d'eau; 
 E. F., a patriot of four sinecures; G. H., an author of a 
 single hand-organ, grinding the same tune over and over; 
 J. K., a publisher of six cider-presses; L. M., a printer of 
 a hundred blunderbusses; or Talleyrand, a politician of ten 
 fox-tails, as there are pachas of three horse-tails? For some 
 
 • Dictionary of Vanes. — This wotk contains besides the vanes or weather- 
 cocks, Indicative of the number of political changes of each individual, ex- 
 tracts of his speeches, manifestos, SsC, as proofs that the number of vanes is 
 correct. — Editor. 
 
 19 
 
( 146 ) 
 
 politicians the hieroglyphic representation of their instabi- 
 lity by means of vanes, will not answer, were we to allow 
 them a dozen. A top will express it more exactly, for it 
 keeps constantly whirling. I mean politicians, whose model 
 is a Cobbett, except that very few elevate themselves to his 
 height, and show their arts without disguise; whose con- 
 science is like the moveable disk in a game of ronletie, and 
 whose politics are like a round-robbin, turning to every side 
 but nowhere tangible. Nothing is stable in them, except 
 their principle, which is, to have none. 
 
 They change their politics as Lipsius did his religion, al- 
 most as often as their &hirt. They seem to have something 
 of the nature of certain infusory animals — a rotary motion, 
 and are yet, in other respects, similar to these animalcules. 
 Throw the water of power upon the dregs of honesty and 
 honor, and let them ferment in the sunshine of patronage, 
 and you will call these vile creatures by thousands into ex- 
 istence — the viler the more closely you observe them. 
 
 I also found, at the bookseller's a number of the Chinese 
 Register, published in Canton. In this number was a re- 
 view of an article on Canton, in the Encyclopedia Ameri- 
 cana, which is founded on the German Conversations-Lexi- 
 con. What an intercourse, at present, exists between the 
 different parts of the world! 
 
 I spoke of bad books as pathological symptoms of the 
 time. I must send you the title of one, which, if it is no 
 peculiar sign of " bad times," is, at all events, a pathologi- 
 cal symptom of mankind. People love the horrid; the 
 poorer classes will flock to executions, and to meet the ap- 
 petite of the wealthier, the following advertisement was in- 
 serted in the London papers, at the time of the siege of Ant- 
 werp, in 1S32: — "The public are informed that places may 
 be had at the Theatre des Varieth, at Antwerp, for seeing 
 tlie siege." The title of the book which I mentioned is 
 this:— 
 
( 147 ) 
 
 '' Cheapest and most popular Work ever 
 published. 
 
 THE 
 
 TERRIFIC REGISTER; 
 
 OR, 
 
 RECORD OF CRI]?IEI!!>, JUDGITIEIVT8, 
 
 PROVIDENCES, AND CALAMITIES. 
 
 FROM THE LONDON EDITION. 
 
 FIRST AMERICAN EDITION, ENLARGED AND IMPROVED. 
 
 Published in Numbers of SIXTEEN large octavo Pages. 
 
 Price only 6 1-4 cents each. 
 
 Ofie or more numbers will appear every week. 
 
 EACH NUMBER EMBELLISHED WITH 
 
 AN ENGRAVING ON WOOD, BY NORTON, 
 FROM THE ORIGINAL DESIGN. 
 
 The Plan oi'the Work embraces: 
 
 Accounts of BARBARITIES inflicted by savage Hordes; 
 
 CRUEL PUNISHMENTS witli whicfi crime lias been visited; 
 
 BARBAROUS MURDERS; 
 
 ATROCIOUS ASSASSINATIONS; 
 
 DIABOLICAL CRUELTIES; 
 
 BLOODY DUELS and SANGUINARY CONFLICTS; 
 
 DARING VILLANIES; 
 
 FRAUDS, PLOTS, CONSPIRACIES, and REBELLIONS; 
 
 REMARKABLE ROBBERIKS, PIRACIES, 
 
 EXECUTIONS, and PERSECUTIONS, for CONSCIENCE' SAKE; 
 
 WELL AUTHENTICATED 
 
 STORIES of APPARITIONS, and strange and fearful 
 
 SUPERSTITIONS, DISASTROUS ACCIDENTS; 
 
 PERILOUS ENTERPRISES and MIRACULOUS ESCAPES, 
 
 by Sea and Land ; 
 
 AWFUL VISITATIONS, and SINGULAR INTERPOSITIONS; 
 
 Accounts of PLAGUE, FAMINE, FIRE, EARTHQUAKE, 
 
 AND OTHER SPECIAL CHASTISEMENTS OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 ALREADY IN HAND, FOR THIS WORK, 
 
 UPWARDS OF ONE HUNDRED ENGRAVINCrS,S,'c. 
 
( 148 ) 
 
 Horrid as this catalogue may be, who does not shudder 
 more at the reader who enjoys all these horrors? And yet, 
 in spite of its appealing to the worst cravings of a gross mi^, 
 I think, still worse is the " Chrnniqiie dn Crime et de P In- 
 nocence, Reciieil des Evenements lespius trngiqiies, Empoi- 
 sonnemen/s, Massacres, ^Sssassinats, Parricides et autres 
 Forfuits; comrnis en France depuis le Commencement de la 
 Monarchic jusqiC a nosjours;^'''^ by Baron Lamothe Langon, 
 reputed father of Memoirs of Madame du Barri, Louis XVIII,, 
 Femme de Qualite. Langdon does not write for an entirely 
 illiterate public. He knowingly and willingly strives to ex- 
 cite, in the very worst way, surfeited minds, while the Regis- 
 ter is chiefly calculated for the uneducated, who, like children, 
 have always a peculiar relish for the grotesque, wild, awful, 
 overpowering, or gigantic. t But the most disgusting in- 
 stance of the kind was afforded by the managers of a Lon- 
 don theatre, when they informed the public that the murder 
 of Thornton would be represented, and the very vehicle in 
 which the murder was committed, exhibited. And we pre- 
 tend to be surprised at the pleasure the Romans took in the 
 fights of gladiators! 
 
 The heat, when I returned home, was suffocating; the con- 
 trast between the fresh sea-breeze and the dead heat of the 
 
 • Chronicle of Crime and Innocence; or Collection of the most trag'ic 
 Events, Poisoning's, Massacres, Assassinations, Paj-ricides, and other foul 
 Deeds, from the Beginning of the Monarchy down to tlie present Time. — 
 Editor. 
 
 f The following' notice, of the papers of 1833, may find a place here: 
 
 " New Publications. — The following works are announced as being for 
 sale at Lemoine's, a Paris bookseller in the Place Vendome: — 
 
 «' Crimes of the Popes, from St. Peter to Pius VI., inclusive. 
 
 " Crimes of the Kings of France, from the commencement of the monar- 
 chy to Charles X., inclusive. 
 
 •' Crimes of the Queens of France, from the commencement of the mo- 
 narchy to Marie Antoinette, inclusive. 
 
 "The announcement is followed by the attractive puff, that these works 
 were prohibited by the ex-government. — Editor. 
 
( 149 ) 
 
 city was immense. No stir in the heavy atmosphere, 
 which made me feel as if lead had been cast upon me. 
 
 If we mention, in a letter, the time when we write it, I 
 think we ought, likewise, to inform the person who is fa- 
 vored with our communication, in what temperature it was 
 written. If a friend write me amiably at 10° below, or 
 write me at all at 95° above zero, I set him down as a friend 
 I can depend upon. His friendship must be deeply seated, 
 not to have frozen in the former case, and be firm as Anto- 
 nio's, not to have melted away in the latter. If a man is 
 kindly disposed on a day which makes bold to call itself a 
 May day, but which must belong to some stray week, lost 
 during winter, when the red nose gives the lie to the white 
 pantaloons, as a friend of mine once said, and a longing for 
 flannel seems to pervade all nature — if a man is good-natured 
 on such a day, you may set him down for a saint, or some- 
 thing very near it. Dryness and moisture, cold and heat, 
 are, at least, of as much importance to be known as the time, 
 and the wearing of a watch forms altogether a very imperfect 
 accomplishment. A pocket steel thermometer ought never 
 to be wanting. Does not heat change every thing? dissolve all 
 formality? Have I not met with a buck, this evening, who 
 — all the year round, a dandy a quatre epingles — had left 
 off his cravat? " A bare neck!" I exclaimed; " Oh!" was 
 all he uttered, with eyes half closed and a mouth half open, 
 fanning all the time with a languid motion of his hand. 
 
 From the great effect which I found that this unusual heat 
 exercises upon individuals, I have learned to understand, 
 with greater clearness, the causes of several phenomena in 
 the private life as well as in the history of Asiatic nations, 
 nor has it passed without giving me a lesson, important to 
 me, with regard to literature. It proved to me once more the 
 great excellence of Shakspeare. He stood the fire. When, in 
 the evening, I was nearly exhausted and had tried one book 
 after another, grave, satirical, or humorous; La Secchia ra- 
 pila, or Camoens, and nothing would do, when no book I 
 opened would interest my mind, I resorted, at last, again to 
 
( 150 ) 
 
 Shalfspeare. I opened the volume at random: he never de- 
 ceives me. In him is a life which communicates itself with 
 electric rapidity to every thinking soul. He who has ac- 
 companied me on land and sea, in camp and prison, who has 
 often delighted me by the fire-side, became now also my 
 comfort in this suffocating heat. He who instructs, cheers, 
 and saddens you, when you read him, is ever ready to 
 your mind, in whatever situation you may be placed, what- 
 ever event may occur to you, or with whatever character, 
 high or low, exalted or sensual, you may meet. He is like 
 the statue of Memnon, which sounded of itself at sunrise 
 and at sunset; so he finds within you an echo, whether the 
 star of your hope or the sun of your success rise or sink. 
 
 Shakspeare, I think, may now certainly be called nearly 
 as much a national poet with the Germans as he is with the 
 English; nay, it would be a question whether he be not ac- 
 tually held in higher esteem at present by the Germans. 
 The English have not yet entirely got over their period 
 of French notions in regard to taste. I cannot follow 
 Schlegel in all his admiration of this most gifted of all sons 
 of Apollo, nor Mrs. Jamieson. They find beauties and deep 
 designs where there are to me none. Shakspeare's beau- 
 ties — like some designs of Raphael — are sometimes the over- 
 flowings of genius; but I believe him, nevertheless, as great 
 as they do. The English seem very generally to have com- 
 mitted the mistake of considering Shakvspeare as a mere ge- 
 nius, powerful and gigantic indeed, but without much reflec- 
 tion on his own works, or any wise arrangements of his own 
 dramatic plans. This mistake has produced a great effect upon 
 their literature: they allowed, for a long time, Shakspeare to 
 stand alone, and followed French correctness, so called. 
 The Germans, on the other hand, now often strive to find 
 plan and well-devised beauty in every part; even in those 
 places where sober reflection would consider admiration too 
 great a stretch of our love for the poet. I cannot find any 
 thing so enormously elevated in Isabella, or such peculiar 
 wisdom in the devising of her character, as Schlegel does; 
 
( 131 ) 
 
 nor would, in all probability, Shakspeare himself, were he 
 alive, tell us that he did. So there are, undoubtedly, defi- 
 ciencies in him. But was he a god, and could he be per- 
 fect? His deficiencies, however, are but like the momenta- 
 ry derangement of his drapery, when his steed carries him 
 rapidly through the highest regions. But never would I 
 call him incorrect in his plans, as Blair wrote — " Shak- 
 speare, a great, but incorrect genius." Some of his pieces 
 may not be well suited to our imagination in every detail, 
 if they come to be represented, but this has nothing to do 
 with the poet, or the true merit of his works. His pieces 
 were to be represented in his time; and whatever is called 
 into existence in this world, must assume a form, which 
 form is subject to changes. My opinion is not influenced 
 by the rule which the French believe to have found in 
 Aristotle, and which has forced their dramatic poets into 
 absurdities, such as you find none in Shakspeare. 
 
 Shakspeare, to use an unpoetic comparison of a poet, takes 
 the whole human life like a lemon, presses out the juice and 
 essence, and throws away the pulp. In him all is truth — 
 deep, great, essential truth; but, if you wish for reality, why, 
 you must go to the market, or to the courts, and patiently 
 wait five years for the denouement of an intricate affair. 
 The French classical dramatists give you neither truth nor 
 reality. Their greatest conspiracies, which change the fate 
 of a whole dynasty, are begun and terminated within one 
 day, during which time, the most designing statesmen are 
 won over, the conspiracies going on all the time in public 
 places — why? because it is much more natural, say they, 
 that the authorities of the state should be stock-blind, than 
 that the spectator should allow that there, where every thing 
 is unnatural — from the lamp-daylight to the actor, who needs 
 must turn to the audience in order to be understood — a 
 change of the scenery is admissible, or that between the 
 acts, which again are unnatural, a longer time than ten mi- 
 nutes can be imagined to elapse. 
 
 It must be owned, however, that the English are return- 
 
( 152 ) 
 
 ing to a better judgment; and soon, it is to be boped, will 
 treat a Tate as persons, who mutilate statues and other works 
 of art, are treated in all countries. That spirits cannot re- 
 turn, is proved to me by nothing so much as by the fact, 
 that Shakspeare and Mozart have never appeared to Tate 
 and Bishop. 
 
 The Germans approach the works of this great philoso- 
 pher, lofty historian, and powerful poet, with a devotion 
 which strives but to enter deeper and deeper into his vast 
 designs and immortal beauties, while the English, as yet, 
 allow the Pegasus, which he rode more masterly than all, 
 to appear before them only after the noble animal has been 
 maimed and hamstrung. May Mrs. Jamieson find many 
 ardent followers. Shakspeare is as important to the English 
 or ourselves as the greatest of our warriors or legislators. 
 
 
 « 
 
( 153 > 
 
 LETTER IX, 
 
 I SEND you to-day some of Major Jack Downing's Let- 
 ters, which will amuse you, though some of their allusions 
 may be unintelligible to a foreigner. As soon as a collec- 
 tion of them is published I will send you a copy. The in- 
 terest of these letters lies partly in the simple and blunt, 
 yet forcible, and not unfrequently convincing manner, with 
 which certain intricate questions, of much importance to the 
 nation, are treated in them, partly in the peculiar compound 
 of the bluntness and shrewdness of a country Yankee, being 
 personified in Major Jack Downing, the pretended author 
 of the Letters, partly, also, in the impudence of the real 
 author, who, sans /aeon, makes the major tell long stories 
 of what happened between him and the president, the vice- 
 president, Mr. Clay, Calhoun, Biddle, and other distin- 
 guished citizens; and, again, in the singular mode which the 
 author has chosen for bringing forth his views and argu- 
 ments, as Jack Downing pretends to belong to the party of 
 the president, while the real author is a member of that 
 party which thinks that the president has wantonly disen- 
 chanted the constitution, as Napoleon said of Dupont's de- 
 feat at Baylen: — " // a desenchante VarmV 
 
 With you, on the other side of the water, people would 
 have no doubt but that the whole vessel of the state must 
 founder, if the highest magistrate and the most prominent 
 
 20 
 
 
( 154 ) 
 
 men are handled with such bold familiarity. Here people 
 think differently. The president signs himself in a letter to 
 the butchers of New York, who had sent him a peculiarly 
 fine piece of beef, or to a hat-maker, who presented him 
 with some broad-brimmed beaver, " Your humble servant," 
 and the law is yet observed. 
 
 Downing's Letters cannot be compared to those of Junius, 
 which are altogether of a higher cast. With Junius there 
 was real danger; hence the necessity of secrecy, which lends 
 no inconsiderable charm to his letters. Have you ever seen 
 a work — "Letters on Junius, by Newhall, Boston, 1831?" 
 The author is a merchant in Salem, and curious enough it 
 would be, if a " cute" Salem merchant should have pene- 
 trated the secret. He ascribes their authorship to Lord 
 Temple, and makes out his case pretty well. This is, how- 
 ever, not the only American work on the authorship of 
 these famous productions. The game of Junius is high; his 
 venom is deadly; in the house of lords and commons his 
 name has been uttered ; his letters were written for the high- 
 est in the nation. Downing's, on the other hand, are for 
 all: they amuse some, instruct others. They will be a cu- 
 riosity to the philologist some hundred years hence, when 
 the true Yankee idiom will have given way, as all provincial 
 languages in time do; and, in fact, they are now of interest 
 to the student, unacquainted with the peculiar expressions 
 of New England, — and a little glossary ought to be at- 
 tached to them when they are collected together.* I have 
 heard, however, some true blue Yankees assert, that Down- 
 ing does not write classical Yankee; but where is the 
 Toscan Yankee spoken? The Connecticut idiom is very 
 different from that of Boston or New Hampshire. I once 
 heard two Mecklinburghers earnestly dispute on the ques- 
 tion whether a purer Low-German is spoken in Strelitz or 
 
 • The Letters of both the Jack Downing's (the major is not the only my- 
 thological person, of whom there are two editions; there are two Bacchuses, 
 two Venuses, &c.,) have been separately published since the author wrote the 
 above, yet no glossaiy has been appended to them. — Editou. 
 
( 155 ) 
 
 Schvverin. However, this is not quite the same; because 
 Low-German is a decided dialect, with a different grammar, 
 &c., while Yankee consists much more in some peculiar 
 words, or words used in a peculiar sense, and in the pecu- 
 liar mode of expression, in strange metaphors, &c., — in fact, 
 it consists as much in thought and pronunciation as in words; 
 and is, therefore, in this respect, to be compared rather to 
 the language of the common people in Berlin. But the lat- 
 ter never failed to disgust me, while the former may be very 
 amusing. 
 
 Some of Downing's illustrations are capital, at which no- 
 body, of whatever party he may be, can help smiling; and 
 though he leans strongly to one side of the question, yet he 
 now and then gives his own party some smart hits. Some- 
 times he wanders in allegories — the most dangerous things to 
 meddle with. But that many of the letters are well written is 
 proved by their great popularity. I am surprised that no re- 
 view has yet taken them up. They afford opportunity for an 
 istructive and sprightly article on the various jargons, and 
 at the same time, some single books which have exercised 
 a great influence in politics, such as Junius, the Compte 
 Rendu of Necker, &c. 
 
 Did we live in ancient times. Jack Downing, being a mys- 
 terious person, would, without question, gradually grow into 
 a mythological personage — aheros: gods may have sometimes 
 become such by strange processes. I was reading, shortly 
 ago, with what great fear the crew of Captain Kotzebue's 
 vessel, when he circumnavigated the world a second time, 
 made their first approach to Cape Horn, and how, when they 
 had passed it, the poor Russian tars were so rejoiced, that, 
 ex tempore creating a deity of this Cape, they represented 
 god Horn, in the act of paying particular respect to the Mus- 
 covite flag. It would do the captain and his crew good to 
 know how entirely the terrors of this Cape are lost on our 
 whalers, who think no more of weathering it than Cape Cod; 
 and prefer it much to the tedious passage through the Straits 
 of Magellan. 
 
 Children, illiterate people, and nations in their earliest 
 
{ 156 ) 
 
 stages, are constantly impelled by a desire to personify, to 
 make the abstract, or invisible, concrete and palpable. This 
 celebration of the Russian sailors, though but in sport, af- 
 fords, nevertheless, an exhibition of this natural desire. Had 
 it happened in earlier ages, we should soon have had sacri- 
 fices offered to win the good graces of the jealous god Horn, 
 whose symbol might have been a large horn, out of which 
 he blew the gales which harass the circumnavigators of the 
 Cape, or who might have been represented with a huge horn 
 on his forehead, to buffet the vessels; and a Creuzer, after 
 two thousand years, might have tried his ingenuity on the 
 " symbolics" of this mytlios. The name Cape Horn itself is 
 one of the many thousand instances of the facility with which 
 the illiterate mould and change things to make them fitted to 
 their capacity. The Cape was discovered by Lemaire and 
 Schouten, and called Cape Hoorn, in honor of the city of 
 Hoorn, not far from the Texel, where their expedition had 
 been fitted out. The English sailor changed the name into 
 Horn, a good name for any cape, and for this par excel- 
 lence. 
 
 Imagine me now going on board a steamboat, plying be- 
 tween New York and Albany, those refined floating ho- 
 tels and swift couriers on the Hudson, which, in respect to 
 arts, one might say, fine arts, are the most striking objects 
 which this country presents to a foreigner. It is a fact, that 
 the Americans, these enthusiastic utilitarians, to venture a 
 bull, lavish an elegance upon these steamboats, which would 
 be unaccountable, were we not acquainted with the power- 
 ful effect of competition. 
 
 " Sir, the Courier and Inquirer! Latest news from Eu- 
 rope, sir," — says a little fellow, approaching you with a bun- 
 dle of that paper, in some street not far from the steamboat- 
 landing. " The Standard, sir! A Jackson paper; the latest 
 news from Washington," calls another, concluding from 
 your refusal of the Courier, that you are a friend of the ad- 
 ministration. " Le Blanc's trial and conviction for murder, 
 sir," calls another; " A revolution in Paris," says his oppo- 
 
( 157 ) 
 
 nent; and the nearer you approach, the more these officious 
 messengers of the events and gossip of two hemispheres 
 thicken around you. — "The Daily Advertiser!" exclaims 
 one; "The Gazette!" says another; "The Advocate!" a 
 third; " There is a letter of Jack Downing in to-day," says 
 again the spokesman of the Daily Advertiser. " A great 
 fire in Charleston," says his competitor; " The total loss of 
 the ship Raleigh," utters another news-pedler; " The Tem- 
 perance Recorder!" and a quarto paper is held out to you; 
 
 " The Anti-Masonic " what? " Oranges, sir," asks a 
 
 man, pushing through the crowd of urchins and lads. " I 
 want nothing but to be left alone." — " Very well, sir." — The 
 steam begins to whistle with its sharp noise, an overmatch 
 to every other sound, except the similar cutting tone of es- 
 caping steam from the pipes of opposition boats. The vessel, 
 yet fastened to the pier, moves forward and backward, like 
 an impatient horse, dashing the water against the side of the 
 wharf; the loud bell rings over your head; the opposition 
 boats ring their bells, too; ladies and gentlemen, with their 
 children, rush in over the narrow bridge, which connects 
 the boat with the land, together with pushing porters and 
 searching friends; trunks float over your head, veils fly by 
 your face, canes threaten your eyes, carpet bags knock you 
 right and left, wheelbarrows endanger your toes and shins. 
 The single strokes are tolling; the opposition toll their sin- 
 gle strokes, too; late comers hasten from the different streets, 
 puffing and blowing; hackney coaches rattle from all direc- 
 tions; — some people call from the wharves, some leap on 
 board, and climb over the railing; the boat moves more 
 unruly to and fro; — a bundle of tracts is thrown to you: 
 " Please, sir, distribute them;" a baby, with a cap of sky-blue 
 sarsinet, silver tassels, and yellow feathers, is yet handed 
 over to a red-faced, panting Irish woman, with a bonnet of 
 contrasting colors, and — some people remain disappointed 
 on shore, looking, with an angry face, after the boat, be- 
 cause a single second costs them twelve hours, perhaps, 
 twenty-four. The shrill steam ceases — the boat moves on. 
 
( 158 ) 
 
 Some bundles and vallises are yet thrown from the wharf; 
 one falls into the water— never mind, the boat cannot stop. 
 Presently, a second boat darts from between two other piers 
 the dangerous race begins, and now the American feels com- 
 fortable. Another bell! "Passengers who have not 
 
 paid their passage, please to step to the captain's office!" 
 Another rush, another squeeze; oh, for the everlasting trou- 
 bles in this life ! 
 
 Since I have been in this country, the size and general 
 arrangement of these boats have been considerably improved, 
 much as I admired them, when I first arrived. The same 
 is the case with the packets to Liverpool and Havre. I lately 
 visited one of these stately vessels, and was struck with the 
 improvements, in respect to the vessel itself, as well as the 
 comfort and elegance of the accommodations for the passen- 
 gers, though the vessel in which I came from England was 
 then, and justly so, considered a model of a fine ship, and 
 of a comfortable and elegant packet. These packets be- 
 tween the two worlds belong to a branch of statistics, im- 
 portant for the correct understanding of the history of our 
 times. 
 
 The large steamboats on the Hudson have a room exclu- 
 sively devoted to the use of the ladies, where they may lie 
 down or arrange their dress; adjoining is a parlor for ladies 
 and gentlemen ; so that the different members of a family may 
 see each other below deck, and yet the ladies need not go into 
 the common room for gentlemen, nor the latter need enter tne 
 lady's cabin proper. The next room is the long cabin, which 
 serves as a dining saloon, and, during the time between 
 the meals, is used by the gentlemen. There is, besides, at 
 the fore end of the boat, a separate " bar-room," where re- 
 freshments may be had, books may be borrowed, and maps, 
 and guide-books may be bought. In all rooms, except the 
 last, you find fine carpets and tasteful silk curtains. The 
 deck is shaded by a wooden roof, on which itself you can 
 walk, under an awning of sail-cloth. Smoking is permitted 
 only on the fore-deck, and I was struck with the activity of 
 
( 159 ) , 
 
 two men, who were here engaged in removing the moist 
 traces of smoking and chewing, as soon as a passenger had 
 taken the liberty to make the fore-deck his spitting-box. 
 Strange, that one half of mankind should be so cleanly as to 
 require the services of two men to be constantly employed 
 in removing an object of disgust, which the other half is, 
 nevertheless, dirty enough to throw into their way, and not 
 even sufficiently civil to take the very modest and practical 
 hint thus given them. 
 
 A number of ladies in mourning were, as usual, on board. 
 In England and here, mourning dress is carried to ex- 
 cess. A traveller, from the European continent, is sur- 
 prised at seeing so many people dressed in black in 
 both these countries. I met, one day, a lady of my ac- 
 quaintance, in Rockaway, a village on the sea-shore, not 
 far from New York. She was in mourning; she told me 
 the reason of her sombre dress; some distant relation had 
 died. " But," said I, " I saw you in mourning half a year 
 ago: for whom was that?" "We were then in mourning 
 for — Mary, my dear," turning to her sister, " for whom were 
 we in mourning, then?" You may easily imagine that the 
 effect of this naivete upon the whole circle was the opposite 
 to the lugubrious. 
 
 A proper regard for our departed friends, shown by ex- 
 ternal signs, is, undoubtedly, becoming for a civilized man, 
 and agrees with our feelings. But if mourning is- carried 
 to such an extent as in England and the United States, it 
 has no more meaning than the going into mourning of a 
 court, ordered by the high-chamberlain, for some prince or 
 princess of a distant dynasty, to which the mourners are not 
 farther related than by the use of the word cousin between 
 ruling heads. Besides, it causes a state of things which may 
 seriously interfere with the whole life of an individual. A 
 female is born to be married, marriage requires previous ac- 
 quaintance, and, as things now stand, acquaintance cannot, 
 generally, take place without social intercourse; mourning, 
 however, throws a young lady out of society. I have known 
 
( 160 ) 
 
 families in which young ladies continued to wear mourn- 
 ing for some very distant cousins, from their seventeenth 
 year to their twenty-first: a very serious affair in a country 
 where ladies cease much earlier to be considered as floating 
 on the full tide of marriageableness than in other parts of the 
 world. Some avoid this inconvenience by going to balls in 
 semi-mourning, which never fails to make on me a very un- 
 pleasant impression. There is a mockery in such a contrast, 
 which shows too plainly — I mourn, but I grieve not. I think 
 the Germans and French are more rational in regard to the 
 wearing of mourning. 
 
 On board of these steamboats, between New York and Alba- 
 ny, and New York and Philadelphia, there is generally a man 
 with a case of types, offering them for sale to passengers, who 
 are desirous of printing their names, with indelible ink, on 
 their wearing apparel. I remember, when I saw, a number of 
 years ago, the first man who carried on this novel branch of in- 
 dustry. It is clear that these types cannot be of use to any one ; 
 yet, standing not far from the man with his box, I observed 
 how the principle, so universally spread, of self-love or self- 
 consideration, united with the leisure of every passenger on 
 board a steamboat, and his eagerness to seize upon any thing 
 which will give some occupation to his mind, induced a 
 number of people to buy what at first they universally took 
 into their hands with the expression of, " Well, what non- 
 sense is this?" A farmer would approach, and, as an Ame- 
 rican takes every thing in his hand, and views it on all 
 sides, whether it belong to him or not, he would take up 
 one of the names already composed, and placed in a little tin 
 case, in which the letters were kept together by a screw. 
 Presently, the vender of the types would come and explain 
 the great advantages of being able to print one's own name 
 on linen, in books, &c. Great doubt is, mean while, ex- 
 pressed on the visage of him who handles the types. 
 " What's your name, sir? you need not buy it, just tell me 
 your name." The goddess Suada, the protectress of all 
 shopkeepers, assists, and the name of the hesitating farmer 
 
- ( 161 ) 
 
 is given. With the swiftness of the best compositor, it is put 
 in type — it is printed — " There, sir, your whole name, and 
 I add the surnames for nothing, sir, however long they may 
 be; don't it look fine? You'd better take it." It is, perhaps, 
 the first time our farmer has seen his name in print, and all 
 over the world there; is sometliing flattering in this. I know 
 that criminals, sentenced to die, will often find some satis- 
 faction in the assurance that their whole process will be 
 printed. The love of authorship is universal; it is as active 
 in kings as in the secretary of the smallest town-meeting, 
 who sends his report to the county-paper. 
 
 By degrees, the farmer pulls out his quarter of a dollar, 
 receives his name, puts it in his pocket, and — half ashamed 
 — retires. Another has already begun to handle other 
 types, to go through the same psychological process, found- 
 ed upon some of the original principles of the human soul, 
 and, therefore, is sure to produce the same result. After 
 about half a dozen persons had thus been rendered happy 
 by the contemplation of their own names, I stepped up 
 to the seller of types, and, perceiving that his dialect was 
 foreign, addressed him in French. In French, still worse 
 than his English, this peddling disciple of Guttenberg 
 told me, that he was a Dutchman; he was actually a Jew of 
 Holland. I tried Germany he spoke it. I nov/ expressed 
 my surprise at his success; but he assured me, that he had 
 carried on this lucrative trade in battered types, for several 
 years, every day going up the river, half the way to Alba- 
 ny, and returning, by another boat, the same day to New 
 York. I freely acquainted him with my disbelief in the uti- 
 lity of these types to any one who had bought them. " They 
 can't do any thing with them," he said. "But how is it," 
 I replied, " that people, notwithstanding, continue to buy, 
 since you tell me that you have been in this line for several 
 years?" — Shrugging his shoulders, he answered, "Why, sir, 
 fools there are going, and fools there are coming, and there 
 will always be fools enough to buy." — " If it is so," said I, 
 " no baker's business is founded upon surer principles." 
 
 21 
 
( 162 ) 
 
 These, as I have given them, are the ipsissima verba of the 
 type-seller, and it is, perhaps, not quite fair in me, that I 
 thus expose the secret of his trade; but considering that, so 
 far from declining, a great competition exists already in 
 this sure-footed commerce, my revealing of its secret will, 
 probably, produce little harm. That the boxes of these phi- 
 losophical tradesmen should be decorated with great em- 
 blems and mottos, such as " The Free Press, the Palladium 
 of Liberty," or "Every Man's Own Press," is a matter of 
 course. Go through the world, and you will find that every 
 trade, which is founded upon some simple principle of the 
 body or mind, such as appetite, vanity, hatred, or laziness, 
 is sure to flourish. All the world over, much money is made 
 by menageries, chiefly because, as Goethe says, it is so 
 sweet to read, in the weekly paper, on Sunday morning, in 
 all comfort and ease, of some bloody battles against the 
 Turks, afar off". It is so nice to see a grim tiger behind a 
 safe grate. 
 
 " Do you think it as fine as the Rhine?" — " What, sir.^" — 
 " The Hudson." — I am unable to compare two things totally 
 different, and besides I am a great enem}'" to odious com- 
 parisons — the ingenuity of little minds. Dante has never 
 gained by being compared to Homer, or Vondel to Shak- 
 speare. What is great stands by itself, and has its character 
 within itself, or it is not great, and on the other hand, when 
 the small is to be compared to the great, it is not difficult to 
 say which will be the loser by the comparison. When you 
 enjoy on a hot day a glass of cool sparkling cider of the 
 best kind, and an officitfus acquaintance of yours, seeing the 
 praise of the liquid in the expression of your face, asks you: 
 " Now, tell me, is not it equal to any Champagne?" the taste 
 is gone at once. 
 
 The Rhine descends from the lofty Alps, where he takes 
 leave from his twin-brother, the Rhone, and after a course of 
 nine hundred miles through many most romantic countries, 
 loses in beauty on a nearer approach to the sea, until at 
 length, his way lies through flat j)rose (as some illustrious 
 
( 163 ) 
 
 dynasties end) and he empties his volumes into the ocean. 
 The Hudson, coming from an uninteresting country, in- 
 creases in beauty in its comparatively short course, the 
 nearer it rolls toward the Atlantic, until the last sixty miles 
 of its course equal in grandeur any object of nature. Its 
 peaks and basaltic walls, its precipices and lofty crags, and 
 its vast sheet of water, as seen from the height of Singsing, 
 are perhaps unequalled by any thing the Rhine can offer to 
 the beholder. Where the Hudson is beautiful, nature has 
 done more for it than for the Rhine, which history and art 
 have ennobled beyond any other river in the world. If 
 Flanders be (according to Sterne,) the great prize-fighting 
 stage of Europe — Saxony is then at least the first cock-pit — 
 it is the Rhine, on whose bosom sails the History of the 
 European Continent. From the wars of Cesar, and the first 
 vine which the Roman colonist planted on its bank, down 
 to Bliicher's bold passage of the river at Caub, on new- 
 year's night, of 1814, and the pictures sent forth from Diis- 
 seldorf * — what battles, conflicts, councils, what activity in 
 distruction and civilization, in science, in war, in commerce, 
 and the arts, elections and coronations, what changes of 
 governments are we not reminded of, in passing along the 
 Rhine? How many legends are told of the bold castles 
 perched on its high peaks! How lovely are the green vine- 
 yards between its shaggy rocks, and how noble the minsters 
 of Cologne, and Strasburg, and Worms! The ancient 
 cities on its banks and in its neighborhood, the strong 
 fastnesses raised by human hands, and the striking proofs of 
 man's perseverance, which effects its results on a spot, sus- 
 ceptible of any cultivation only by dint of the most laborious 
 exertion, are objects of continual and ever-varying interest 
 
 • In many parts of Germany, prevails, at present, the greatest activity in 
 the fine arts, extending' through all classes of society. While in Munich 
 palaces are raised to gain room for fresco paintings, the effect of a high ele- 
 vation of taste is seen in many manufactured articles or trifles, calculated 
 for common comfort or domestic ornament. In Prussia, it would seem, 
 that sculpture has attained a far higher degree in Berlin, than painting', 
 while the academy at Dusseldorf, lately re-established, excels in the latter 
 art. — EnrTon. 
 
( 164 ) 
 
 to the traveller, who no where in the world finds more to 
 delight him in going on foot and passing from village to 
 village, than along and near the banks of the Rhine. 
 
 If the Hudson is grander in those parts where it is grand 
 at all, — the neighborhood of the Taunus, the Vosges, the 
 heights at Heidelberg, from whence you look into the valley 
 of the Rhine, as Moses must have gazed from his height 
 into the promised land, and many other spots and places, are 
 much more interesting. Frankfort, so near to the Rhine, is 
 important to many with regard to history, but interesting to 
 all, on account of its forming the crossing point of the travel- 
 lers of all nations. Here the Russian passes through if he 
 goes to Paris, the Parisian proceeding to Vienna, the En- 
 glishman journeying to Italy, the Italian travelling to Lon- 
 don. And then the many watering places, which collect 
 people, making for a time enjoyment their business, from all 
 quarters of the globe. I have expressed my admiration of 
 the Rhine somewhere else, and I will copy the passage. 
 
 " There are rivers, whose course is longer, and whose 
 volume of water is greater, but none which unites almost 
 every thing that can render an earthly object magnificent and 
 charming, in the same degree as the Rhine. As it flows 
 down from the distant ridges of the Alps, through fertile re- 
 gions into the open sea, so it comes down from remote an- 
 tiquity, associated in every age with momentous events in 
 the history of the neighboring nations. A river which 
 presents so many historical recollections of Roman con- 
 quests and defeats, of the chivalric exploits in the feudal 
 periods, of the wars and negotiations of modern times, of 
 the coronations of emperors, whose bones repose by its side; 
 on whose borders stand the two grandest monuments of the 
 noble architecture of the middle ages; whose banks present 
 every variety of wild and picturesque rocks, thick forests, 
 fertile plains; vineyards, sometimes gently sloping, some- 
 times perched among lofty crags, where industry has won a 
 domain among the fortresses of nature; whose banks are orna- 
 mented with populous cities, flourishing towns and villages. 
 
( 165 ) 
 
 castles and ruins, with which a thousand legends are con- 
 nected; with beautiful and romantic roads, and salutary mi- 
 neral springs; a river, whose waters offer choice fish, as its 
 banks offer the choicest wines; which, in its course of nine 
 hundred miles, affords six hundred and thirty miles of unin- 
 terrupted navigation, from Basle to the sea, and enables the 
 inhabitants of its banks to exchange the rich and various pro- 
 ducts of its shores; whose cities, famous for commerce, sci- 
 ence, and works of strength, which furnish protection to 
 Germany, are also famous as the seats of Roman colonies, 
 and of ecclesiastical councils, and are associated with many 
 of the most important events recorded in the history of man- 
 kind; — such a river, it is not surprising that the Germans 
 regard with a kind of reverence, and frequently call in 
 poetry Father, or King Rhhie." 
 
 The Hudson has more of a marine character; Tappan-Sea 
 and Haverstraw-Bay, notwithstanding their inland situation, 
 have really the character of bays; the many square-rigged 
 vessels, may contribute to give it this appearance. I con- 
 sider the view of the last fifteen miles of the river, to be 
 more beautiful, when you sail down; but above, the view is, 
 perhaps, more beautiful to the traveller who is sailing up. 
 You can hardly imagine a nobler sight on earth, than 
 that which you may enjoy, for twelve cents, by taking 
 passage in the Manhattanville steamboat, and sailing down 
 the river. Its eastern bank, whose scenery partakes of the 
 gentle cast, is studded with neat and comfortable looking 
 houses, peeping out of the thick and rich foliage; the Avestern 
 bank, bolder, grander, and more variegated in its form, is 
 covered with equally rich foliage, though interrupted now 
 and then by a rock, projecting over a picturesque winding 
 path. As you approach nearer to the city, you can perceive 
 vessels lying in the river, already widening like a land-locked 
 bay; the eastern bank becomes more and more covered with 
 houses, until at last you glide along a forest of masts, and 
 presently are landed in the midst of noise and bustle. 
 
 Hardly less imposing is the view up Ihe river, on some 
 
( 166 ) 
 
 parts of it. There are points on shore from which most 
 magnificent vistas open themselves. I lived one summer 
 in Manhattanville near the river, and often enjoyed the su- 
 perb view from the top of one of my cherry trees, of a 
 height of which I have seen specimens here only, up the 
 river toward Tappan Sea. Opposite was Fort Lea, where 
 that singular and imposing wall of dark trap begins, which 
 rising perpendicularly several hundred feet high, accompa- 
 nies, for about twenty miles, the Hudson so closely, that 
 sometimes the broken pieces which have tumbled from the 
 steep heights have hardly found a resting place between 
 the water and these rocks, — justly called the Palisadoes. 
 They form a fine contrast to the opposite scenery, variegated 
 by hill and dale, by cultivated fields and thick woods. At 
 a distance, a great sheet of water might be seen extending 
 far up to the border of the rising shores near Singsing. I 
 have added this point to my list of beautiful or instructive 
 and impressive vistas, over which I have only to cast a glance 
 in order to be brought back to many of the most interest- 
 ing spots in the world. I have found a list of this kind to be 
 a very useful complement to a journal; to me it has become 
 indispensable. 
 
 It has been often observed that Americans eat quickly, 
 and devour instead of dining. I subscribe to this with re- 
 spect to all the classes busily engaged in any occupation of 
 industry, and in the case of nearly all public houses, steam- 
 boats, &c. I do not wish to detain you with an inquiry into 
 the probable causes of this rapidity in eating, the connexion 
 of which, with other national traits, can, in my opinion, be 
 satisfactorily traced; nor into its probable effects, such as a 
 universal tendency to indigestion; which, however, stands 
 undoubtedly in some connexion also with the many sudden 
 and violent changes of weather which we have to endure. 
 But I will mention one fact which, singular as it is, I have 
 observed so often, that I think I can rely on its truth. It 
 is well known how intimately all our senses are connect- 
 ed with each other, and how much the sense of hearing af- 
 
( 167 ) 
 
 fects that of taste. If a person be desirous of tasting some- 
 thing very delicate, or to find out some ingredient of a mix- 
 ture by taste, he either shuts his eyes or looks vaguely into 
 the air; and, if there be much noise in the room, says, "Be 
 quiet for a moment." It would require considerable time 
 to accustom one's self to taste with fine discrimination, sur- 
 rounded by a great noise. No chymist, in a situation of this 
 kind, would trust his taste in a scientific and delicate in- 
 quiry. Hence it is so absurd to have Turkish music during 
 dinner, if the host gives something exquisite; if he give 
 poor or common fare, the more noise the better. Soft and 
 very harmonious music might, perhaps, not interfere with a 
 connoisseur's silent meditation upon the delicate bouquet of 
 prime Latour or Margaux, or the delights of a savory and 
 juicy snipe. But the music ought not to be so good as to draw 
 the attention from the primary object of a diner choisi; for 
 it is impossible to have two ideas or the clear consciousness 
 of two distinctly different sensations at once. You will not 
 be surprised, then, if I tell you that I always have found 
 the people on board a steamboat to eat faster, the faster the 
 machine goes. If the boat stop during dinner, the rattling 
 of knives and forks abates; not only because a few inquire 
 at what landing-place the boat is, (for people who pay no at- 
 tention to the place where the boat happens to be, but con- 
 tinue to occupy themselves with the dinner, unconsciously 
 relax in their exertions;) but also, and principally, because 
 the engine slackens its pace. As soon as the piston re- 
 sumes its activity, the clattering of plates and clanking of 
 knives recommences in all its vigor. The engine produces 
 the sensation of quickness and bustle upon the mind, which, 
 with this general impression on the sensorium, cannot avoid 
 imparting it to the nerves of the hands and the lower jaw. 
 If, as I have no doubt, the velocity with which every 
 thing around us proceeds, influences our whole disposition, 
 I am sure the inhabitants of Mercury, which moves at the 
 rate of three hundred and fifteen miles in a second, must 
 dine so quickly, that a Yankee would be considered, with 
 
( 168 ) 
 
 them, an old English country gentleman; and perhaps they 
 restore the deposites, before they are removed : at all events, 
 they would not have talked about it half a year, — while, on 
 the other hand, a senator, haranguing against the bank of 
 Uranus, would begin his speech in the year 1800, and on 
 new-year's day of 1900, would be just saying, " One word 
 more, Mr. President, and I have done." 
 
 About twenty -five miles from New York, you pass Tarry- 
 town, where Mr. Irving has bought a house, to spend his 
 summers. I am glad to see that Mr. Irving has become, one 
 might say, a national writer, with the Germans. I believe 
 his works are nearly as much known in Germany as here, 
 and not only by translations. Why is it that the Ameri- 
 cans have so few writers like Irving, so few who show an 
 inventive talent and independent character of their own? 
 There are numerous reasons, which it would take me more 
 time to enumerate, than you would be willing to grant 
 me. Some of the most important, in my opinion, are the 
 vastness of the country, which gives indeed, to many, a field 
 of laborious enterprise and occupation; but it necessarily in- 
 duces also, the population to scatter over vast extents, which 
 renders the whole book trade very difficult and different 
 from what it is in central Europe, or England, France, and 
 Germany. Our " enterprising publishers," have it not in 
 their power, to " encourage" authors so " liberally" as a 
 Paris, or London Murray can do. Then there is before 
 them, a whole nation having a long start ahead, which speaks 
 the same language, and in which a whole literature has al- 
 ready gone through all the successive stages of its develop- 
 ment. Originality, therefore, comes more difficult to Ame- 
 ricans, than perhaps to any other people. None was ever 
 before placed in the same situation with regard to this 
 point. 
 
 Besides, nations are like individuals; they cannot do 
 every thing at the same time. The Germans did not at once 
 fight the pope, fathom the depths of philosophy, bid the sun 
 stand still and the earth march, send Humboldt to South 
 
( 169 ) 
 
 America, compose Don Juan, and produce Faust. The con- 
 strtutian of the United States is a charter which requires 
 much and a gradual development — enough to occupy whole 
 generations. For the present, the two great objects which 
 engage the main activity of the nation, are material and me- 
 chanical improvement, (in which I include the obtaining of 
 capital,) and the development of politics. It is a young 
 country, placed in a very peculiar situation, by the side of 
 th'C most civilized and oldest nations, and, therefore, has to 
 direct at once its attention to a thousand things more directly 
 connected with the Well-being of society, than polite litera- 
 ture, or the fine arts. The United States have, in some re- 
 spects, to introduce, sow, plant, and raise what other nations 
 gained slowly in the course of centuries. 
 
 These are some of the reasons; the facts cannot be de- 
 nied. Poland rose and sank, and not a chord of that lyre 
 was touched, which before all others should have been ex- 
 pected to sound, in praise or sympathy, with that struggle 
 for independence. Nor can there be, at present, any disposi- 
 tion for satire, which it would be supposed party virulence, 
 if no other cause, would call forth; for Governor Hamilton 
 gave to Ensign Frost, the holy banner of nullification, with 
 the words — " Take Ensign Frost, &c.," without inducing a 
 single rhymer to dress up the account, as given by the pa- 
 pers, in a few verses; and nothing more would have been re- 
 quisite to make it a satire nearly as bitter, as the lashing 
 lays of Hipponax*. 
 
 How many songs of praise or of keen reproach, would 
 not, with other nations, all the elections produce, were they 
 carried on with the same universal interest as here. Though 
 but few citizens can take a personal part in French elec- 
 tions, none passes without bringing forth some smart poetry. 
 But, again, it may be very well that it is so. Certainly it is 
 connected with that soberness so important to the whole po- 
 litical fabric of America. Had the Americans more readi- 
 
 • Not quite so bad ! Hipponax lashed Buphalus and Anthermus, with so 
 bitter satires, that they liung themselves. — Editor. 
 
 22 
 
( 170 ) 
 
 ness to enjoy a biting sarcasm, or plaisanterie, and not to 
 let them roll off like vvater from a duck's wing, they would 
 also have to suffer from this agility of mind the same which 
 the French have suffered, with whom a piercing remark 
 has gone often much farther than plain truth, and who, not 
 unfrequently, have believed that a whole philosophical sys- 
 tem or an institution might be proved to be false, and pros- 
 trated by a single conceit. 
 
 I think the English parliament keep, in this respect, a 
 wise and agreeable mean between the French and the Ame- 
 ricans. There is much more fun in their parliament than 
 in the American congress, and, — which is, in fact, necessary 
 to produce this state of things, — a member of parliament is 
 much surer that something smart or witty will be relished, 
 than a member of congress. For attacks in parliament, if 
 of a humorous kind, are received with more good nature, 
 or, at least, more as they ought to be, as the attacks of wit 
 and humor, than in congress, where every thing is taken as 
 mere downright, plodding politics. 
 
 A few miles above Tarrytown, (where it will not require 
 much persuasion by the inhabitants to make a stranger act 
 as the name of the place requires, since the historian of Co- 
 lumbus lives there,) lies the state prison, which, call it Sing- 
 sing or Mount Pleasant, is in direct contradiction to its 
 name. Instead of Singsing, it ought to be called Hush- 
 Hush', or, we might borrow, for this place, the poetic name 
 of the Turks for their church-yards, and call it the City of 
 Silence. But, according to the exquisite American taste in 
 making geographical names, Mumville, I dare say, would 
 be preferred.* The inmates of this dumb abode, proba- 
 
 • Some readers may not understand the allusion of the author without 
 being informed that there is at Singsing one of the state prisons of the state 
 of New York. There are from eight hundred to a thousand convicts in this 
 penitentiary, founded upon the Auburn plan, the chief characteristics of 
 which are, that die prisoner is bound to perpetual sile.nce as long as he con- 
 tinues to be an inmate of the penitentiarj', and that he sleeps in a solitary 
 
( 171 ) 
 
 bly, do not cherish it by the name of Mount Pleasant, 
 though I must testify to the truth of this name, as to the 
 view from the spot. Close to the prison, on the top of 
 a hill opens a prospect of great beauty. The wide wa- 
 ters of the Hudson, the high and steep bank of the op- 
 posite shore, and the distant view along the river — the 
 many objects of nature before you, all testifying to her 
 power and greatness, contrast strangely with the prison 
 beneath; with its straight walls and many uniform and 
 narrow window holes, built for men who have forfeited 
 their liberty. Here is a spot where, in olden times, a con- 
 vent would have been built. The finest spots, and very 
 properly so, were always selected for the erection of con- 
 vents. 
 
 Names often play cruel tricks upon men and things, 
 and sometimes men upon their names. To meet a plain, 
 cross, and unamiable Laura is very common. I saw lately 
 a Porcia, ah, such a Porcia! But there are contrasts more 
 striking than these. The arch-villain Gates was called 
 Titus, as his crowned kinsman in disposition, Louis XL, was 
 the first French monarch who called himself Most Christian 
 Majesty; for the same reason, probably, that the inquisition, 
 unholy if ever any thing was so, was called the Holy Office. 
 Thus, the name of the assassin of Henry HI. was Clement, 
 and Tiberius's name was Gracchus; and there is Archbishop 
 Laud, never to be sufficiently lauded. There have been 
 many guilty Innocents; but we should find no end to the 
 list of these beliers of their own names. The dirk by which 
 the French knight gave the final coup, was called misericorde, 
 (the coup itself, coup de grace,) and the drop in ancient cas- 
 tles, by which people were "eliminated," as the phrase was 
 in the French revolution, went by the neat little name of 
 oubliette; as if the horrors of the living grave beneath were 
 
 cell. The Pennsylvania Penitentiary system is fonnded on perpetual se- 
 eliuion. In both the prisoner is constantly engaged in labor. — Editor. 
 
( 172 ) 
 
 but like a dram of Lethe. Cannons, formerly used in moun- 
 tainous countries and drawn by men, were styled amuseltes — 
 very pleasant toys! So is a brook, near the Trasimene lake, 
 which drank human blood in such full and deep draughts, now 
 called Sanguinetto* Blood-kin, to translate it literally, or Lit- 
 tle Blood; while Ferdinand IV., King of Naples, who fled 
 three times from his capital and the main part of his king- 
 dom, is called Invictiis, on the pedestal of his statue, in 
 the Studj. There is in congress a Judge Cage, and I saw 
 lately in the papers that a Mr. Lawless had been appointed 
 judge; now suppose Judges Lawless and Cage form the 
 bench, and I ask any honest man whether he would not feel 
 inclined to challenge the bench instead of the jury. A Doc- 
 tor Physick or Lieutenant Drummer, as there was one of this 
 name in the Literary Convention in New York, from West 
 Point, are correct, but sometimes names are cruelly true; 
 for example, the brig which carried Napoleon from Elba 
 was called The Inconstant. Seldom does the name happen 
 to hit so well, as when Napoleon presented Marshal Keller- 
 mannt with Johannisberg. That Mount Auburn, the rest- 
 ing place of the Bostonians, is so called, is somewhat bit- 
 ter; as the entombed are certainly subject to silence and 
 solitary confinement, though the comparison with the 
 Auburn system cannot be carried any farther. The most 
 shocking contrast between name and person, of which I 
 know, is offered in the case of the woman who poisoned 
 more than thirty individuals, and whose name was Gott- 
 fried. J 
 
 When our boat approached Newburg, a town on the right 
 bank of the Hudson, a farmer, with whom I had entered 
 into conversation, told me that, the day before, he went 
 from Albany down the river. His family lives in New- 
 burg, and he came from the west to see them, after an ab- 
 
 • Near Ossaja (Bone-field.) — Editoh. 
 
 i Kelkrmann would be translated Cellar-man, and Johannisberg produces 
 the best hock. — Editor. 
 
 t Peare in (.iwl. She was executed in Bremen. — Editoh. 
 
( 173 ) 
 
 sence of five years. Shortly before the boat arrived at the 
 place of his destination, he fell asleep, as is often the case 
 with members of the industrial classes on board these boats, 
 owing to the uniform motion and the want of physical oc- 
 cupation. When he awoke, he found that the boat had 
 passed the place. " I said nothing," he said to me with a 
 shrewd look, " paid my passage on to New York, and shall 
 say nothing to my folks here. Only they will wonder where 
 I come from at this time of the day." But this is not quite 
 so bad as the fate of the poor old quaker lady who was de- 
 sirous of going to a place midway between London and 
 Manchester. She took a seat in the mail-coach, in London; 
 when she had arrived at the place of her destination, she 
 began to collect her bag, handkerchief, parasol, shawl — 
 " All right!" said the guard, dashing the door to, and on the 
 poor woman was carried to Manchester. She was obliged 
 to return, but before she could get out of the coach, though 
 she tried this time to be much quicker, the mail-coach start- 
 ed again for London, before she could manage to get out. 
 It is said that she floated for three whole months, in this 
 state of painful suspense, between the metropolis and Man- 
 chester. 
 
 On the wharf, in Albany, we were received by hackney- 
 coachmen and porters offering their services, as you may 
 imagine; but there are here not as many as in New York 
 and Philadelphia, and, consequently, the bustle of their com- 
 petition is not so great. In the two latter cities, they be- 
 gan to importune passengers in such a degree, that the cap- 
 tains of the steamboats saw themselves obliged to prohibit 
 them from coming on board. They, therefore, now stand five 
 or six deep on shore, stretching out their heads, with a pair 
 of anxiously searching eyes, trying to catch those of some 
 passenger, or to attract his attention by some interrogatory 
 motion with their heads and hands. And if you happen to 
 meet the look of one of these aurigse, his longing desire 
 and imploring expression, second to none in the whole 
 world, except, perhaps, to that of a half-desponding lover, 
 
( 174 ) 
 
 it moves your very heart. That you may not disappoint any 
 of these eager candidates for the carriage of your effects, it 
 is necessary to stand before them with downcast eyes, as 
 you must do in an auction, where a look is a bid, and you 
 have carefully to avoid the greedy eye of the loquacious 
 auctioneer, or a twinkling of the lid may cost you some- 
 thing. 
 
( 175 ) 
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 There was this time no music on board the steamboat. 
 I do not know whether the method of attracting passengers 
 by the refined call of a band has been entirely abandoned 
 or not. When I first came to this country, and strolled 
 about in the streets of New York, I recollect very well the 
 impression made upon me by the different bands on board the 
 boats, whose colors were streaming in the air, and waving 
 far over the wharf, near which they were lying. This good 
 impression, however, was much enhanced by the tune which 
 one of these bands played — the hunter's chorus of the Frei- 
 schiitz. When Weber's popular opera first came out, I lived 
 in Dresden. Every ear caught the tune of the hunter's cho- 
 rus, which must certainly have been previously lying in 
 every human breast, and only wanted to be called forth, and 
 clearly pronounced by some one, in order to be known, felt, 
 and loved by every hearer; as the best passages of a great 
 poet, which pointedly and pithily pronounce something, the 
 truth of which instantly strikes every one, and renders the 
 sentence, in a moment, a common-place. It is the same with 
 all arts, only the effect of the productions of the two just 
 mentioned is more general, because they speak languages 
 understood by all who think and feel. The artist is for us 
 the greatest, and we love him most, when, with the wis- 
 dom of a master, and the might of genius, he calls up before 
 
( 176 ) 
 
 us that which we feel, in the moment we behold his work, 
 was always in our inmost soul, but which we had neither the 
 power of mind, nor elevation and energy enough to bring 
 clearly to our consciousness. Hence the surprise, the un- 
 speakable joy, the deep emotion, when we are suddenly 
 placed before a shepherd boy of Thorwaldson. It is the 
 image of grace we carried always with us, but we could not 
 give it birth; hence our feelings when we see, at last, the 
 Madonna di Sisto of Raphael; we recognise the true, full, 
 entire conception of the heavenly mother and the babe she 
 nurses to fulfil the greatest destiny; hence our feelings, when 
 the waves of Palestrini's music roll on, and our soul says, 
 " For that music I have always longed." No artist can 
 carry any thing absolutely new into our soul, but his wand 
 may call into life that of which the elements lay dormant 
 within us. When the mathematician Lambert asks, after 
 having heard Gluck's incomparable Alceste, " What shall be 
 proved by all this?" St. Cecilia herself would not be able to 
 touch a chord of his heart. 
 
 From Dresden I went to the South of Germany, and the 
 music of the Freischiitz had preceded me. I went to Mar- 
 seilles, and heard the hunter's chorus again. I sailed to 
 Greece, and a Greek, who had been in France and brought 
 back a taste for our civilized music, whistled it. I went to 
 Naples, and the band played the same tune on parade. I re- 
 turned to Germany, and I found that every shoemaker's 
 boy, fetching bread in the early morning for the journey- 
 men of his master, sung it in the street, and already it had 
 been stereotyped on the cylinder of hand-organs. I travelled 
 to England, where I was greeted with Weber's tune; I 
 crossed the Atlantic, and it welcomed me even here, in the 
 western hemisphere. From what depths in the well of 
 human feeling must this tune be drawn to become so hack- 
 neyed all over the world, even to the disgust of lightly 
 thinking minds! I wish I could ever produce a work, which 
 centuries after my death, would be hawked about for a six- 
 pence, as Shakspeare's Romeo and Juliet was offered to me 
 
( 177 ) 
 
 in the Strand, on bad paper and in bad print, or, as the 
 poor editions of Don Quixote, are sold all over Spain.* 
 What makes a " sickening common place," if not its striking 
 truth or its great beauty which is felt by every one as soon 
 as it is heard? 
 
 Have you ever considered, how the two extremes meet in 
 this case? Mathematics and music are universal; they defy 
 the bars of nations and are understood through all zones 
 alike. The one proceeding from the absolute understand- 
 ing, and addressing it, the other the pure language of feel- 
 ing — both as universal as the principles of the understand- 
 ing and the elementary feelings of the soul. Lichtenstein 
 found a native of the Cape of Good Hope, humming the 
 tune of a German song,t and Euclid is as true to-day as he 
 was thousands of years ago; as ten times ten can make no 
 more or less, a thousand years hence than it makes now, 
 but must make a hundred alike for the Esquimaux and the 
 Chinese. And this is, also, the reason why music is the 
 kindest of all arts, and the most faithful companion to man. 
 There is no age or condition in the life of the individual, and 
 no period in the history of a nation, from its rudest starting 
 point to the last stages of refinement, that music is not wil- 
 ling to grieve with the afflicted, and to laugh with the gay, 
 and to offer comfort and joy from the infinite variety of her 
 treasures. None of the fine arts affords so much pleasure in 
 its simplest beginnings, as music, none can satisfy the human 
 heart with so little materials. The lowest are not too low 
 for her, and the highest owe her a thousand delights. When 
 the poor slave, whom neither painting nor sculpture, nor 
 knowledge ennobles, returns from the toilsome task of the 
 day, and wipes the sweat from his heavy brow, he resorts 
 yet to her for some comfort, before he rests his weary limbs; 
 
 • In some of our auctions, we have heard the Vicar of Wakefield fami- 
 liarly put up as the Vicar, and the auctioneer's tongue rattling' to tlie tune of 
 " Well, how much's bid for the Vicar." At the same time it is the Vicar, 
 with which every foreigner begins English. — Editoh, 
 
 •j- It was the tunc of, Freut cucli des Lebcns. — Euixoii. 
 
 23 
 
( 178 ) 
 
 and the bondsman, who knows but little pleasure in the con- 
 tracted circle in which he moves, owes to her the richest 
 enjoyment he has, when he plays his rude instrument for 
 the young ones to dance around him, and to forget who they 
 are. How happy I have seen Bohemian peasants, with their 
 violins! It seems, as if man, the more he is robbed of his 
 rights, the more he calls for pleasure from music; and when 
 a nation sinks into bondage, and all the monuments of for- 
 mer glory, and liberty, and thought are lost, when by the 
 fierceness of a tyrant or the cruelty of time, all the records 
 of what its fathers were and did, are destroyed, even then, 
 still it is she, the daughter of Heaven, who preserves the 
 memory of happier ages, in plaintive songs to kindle at a 
 future and better day, the pride of freemen and the love of 
 country in the hearts of daring insurgents, and to change the 
 song of grief into the bursting air of the warrior. Would 
 Greece ever have risen from her sleep, had her degraded 
 sons not sung the deeds of their fathers, and the memory of 
 their early honor, in places where they were unwatched by 
 their masters ? If you knew the whole history of this people 
 as I do, you would answer with me, no. — What share had 
 the inspiring Marseillaise in the late revolution of France? 
 How much does England owe to her soldiers' and her 
 sailors' songs? How many battles has Rule Britannia fought 
 for her? It is recorded in no history, and yet the effect of 
 all these songs has been immense. Hark! the trumpet, even 
 firing the very horses that have to carry their bold riders 
 into yonder square ; would they go without that martial leader, 
 which sends its piercing sounds into the weakest heart? 
 Hark! the simple, solemn beat of the drums; they sound 
 from the centre of that column, which irtarches up, in mea- 
 sured time, to the doubtful assault, and bridle the bounding 
 courage of the brave and faithful band. — And when the vie- 
 tory is won, the thankful peals of the conquerors, rise to the 
 God of the Just, and a grateful country answers by the swell- 
 ing anthem and the full Te Deum in the wide temples of the 
 Most High! 
 
( 179 ) 
 
 The herdsman trusts to her, to while away his time, and 
 makes the cliffs of solitary Alps, raised high above the busy 
 world, converse with him; she leads the vine dresser home 
 from the hills, where by his labor, irksome and niggardly 
 rewarded, pleasure grows for others, and she makes lighter 
 the trying task on board the rolling vessel. She is with the 
 wanderer, who sings a song of his home, or hums a tune of 
 his early youth; and with her aid, passes quicker the time of 
 a soldier in the camp. 
 
 It is music with which a mother's untiring love, lulls the 
 restless babe to sleep; music which calls the little ones to a 
 merry show, and gives to toys the greatest charm; music, 
 to which the youth resorts, to speak of love, in the late 
 hour of others' rest, to her, whose eyes have wounded him; 
 it is music which measures the merry steps of harmless joy, 
 and gives utterance to forgetful mirth, stirred by the spark- 
 ling contents of the slender glass; it is she who assembles 
 fashion to hear the brilliant work of a glowing master; she 
 who beguiles the slow hours of a prisoner, and transports 
 an exile to his home and friends; and, it is she who brings 
 the balm of comfort to the widow, pouring, with a feeble 
 voice, her burning grief into a lonely hymn, and she who 
 accompanies us to the grave.* 
 
 When the rude Indian gives utterance to his joy, his 
 drum accompanies the quickened steps and louder voice, 
 which, obedient to the universal law, he pours forth in rhyt- 
 mic measure; and the tibia sounded to the highest strains of 
 Sophocles, and David played his harp, and cornets and cym 
 bals sounded before the ark, to praise the King of Israel, and 
 Christians go and bid their feelings, too strong for any Ian 
 guage, rise to the Creator of our hearts on the sacred wings 
 of Heaven-devoted music — of her whose power is so great 
 and yet so mysterious, that man, to speak of all the plea- 
 sure, comfort, and peace, which she can instil into his soul, 
 
 • In many European countries, the dead are accompanied by songs to the 
 grave; still more frequently is a hymn sung over the grave. — Editoh. 
 
( 180 ) 
 
 has no words to name them, but must borrow all from taste, 
 or touch, or sight. 
 
 Well is she called a daughter of Heaven: whoe'er has 
 heard, in Michel Angelo's most noble chapel,* the sacred 
 strains, which Palestrini has revealed to us, like the greeting 
 from another world, has felt the breath of heavenly calm. 
 
 Ay! not only doth music love man; even the brute to 
 which the word of reason has been denied, gives utterance 
 to its feeling of life, and health, and of enjoyment, in notes 
 which make the wood resound of thanks to Heaven; and 
 pious men do tell us, of the pure melodies in which the 
 blessed sing the praise of God. 
 
 * Cappella Sistina,in the Vatican, in which the service of the passion week 
 is performed. — Editor, 
 
( 181 ) 
 
 LETTER XL 
 
 From Albany to Schenectady, you travel by rail-road; 
 and the least exciting of all travelling, it seems to me, is de- 
 cidedly locomotion by steam on a rail-road. The traveller, 
 whose train of ideas is always influenced by the manner in 
 which he proceeds, thinks in a steam car of nothing else but 
 the place of his destination, for the very reason that he is 
 moving so quickly. Pent up in a narrow space, rolling along 
 on an even plain which seldom offers any objects of curiosity, 
 and which, when it does, you pass by with such rapidity, 
 that your attention is never fixed; together with a number of 
 people who have all the same object in view, and think like 
 you of nothing else, but when they shall arrive at their jour- 
 ney's end — thus situated, you find nothing to entertain or 
 divert you, except now and then a spark flying into the win- 
 dow of the car and burning a hole in a lady's veil, or other- 
 wise exciting the interest of the travellers by a gentle smell 
 of burning. There is no common conversation, no rondo- 
 laugh, nothing but a dead calm, interrupted from time to 
 time, only by some passenger pulling out his watch and ut- 
 tering a sound of impatience, that a mile in four minutes is 
 the rate of travelling on " this line." 
 
 Strange, that the most rapid travelling should be the most 
 wearisome, but so it is; les extremes se iouchent, always and 
 every where. The animal which comes nearest to the shape 
 of man is the ugliest; gods and beggars go half naked, and 
 
( 182 ) 
 
 kings and servants are called by their baptismal names; and 
 Madame de Stael delighted in playing soubrettes, while 
 sombre Shelley amused himself by letting little ships of 
 paper float on the water. 
 
 I have mentioned Madame de Stael, and, in a former letter, 
 Madame de Recamier; and now I will tell you an anecdote 
 which ought not to be lost. A gentleman (who sailed with 
 Captain Kotzebue round the world) told me, that, when he 
 lived in Copet, in the house of the former — a woman who 
 could but rule or adore — he took, one day, a sail in company 
 with these two ladies and some gentlemen, on the lake of 
 Geneva. They were overtaken by a storm, which at times 
 is a very dangerous occurrence on that superb water. The 
 whole party had a narrow escape, and when, in the evening 
 at tea, they talked over their perils, Madame de Stael ob- 
 served, " Had we all been drowned, it would have afforded 
 a fine newspaper article; both the most beautiful woman of 
 the age, and the most gifted would have perished together." 
 
 Rolling on in my swift car, I thought of all the different 
 ways by which little earth-bound man contrives to move 
 from one place to another. If a man has health in his limbs 
 and money in his pocket, and time to spare, I agree with 
 Rousseau, that there is but one way of travelling — that on 
 foot, " provided always nevertheless " the country be inte- 
 resting. It is impossible to learn half as much in any other 
 way; and, as Seume says, it is easier to give a penny to a poor 
 fellow when you are on foot than to throw it out of the coach 
 window. This, to be sure, would not make much difference 
 in our country, since you may travel many hundred miles, or 
 live for many years in a place without ever being asked for 
 alms. I recollect very well, when I was addressed by a lit- 
 tle beggar girl, in Boston, for the first time after a long re- 
 sidence. She belonged to emigrants who had lately ar- 
 rived. 
 
 There is a zest in all enjoyments, even the meanest, 
 when you travel on foot. To rise before daybreak and 
 march into the day in a thick lonely forest; to lie down, af- 
 
( 183 ) 
 
 ter a long walk, under the rich foliage of a beach-tree, on 
 the top of a mountain, from which you see into a valley va- 
 riegated by nature and civilization; to take a refreshing bath 
 after the journey, and go to a library or gallery, or into the 
 opera of a large city — are enjoyments and contrasts, which 
 I can compare to no others. 
 
 To sit down in Switzerland, at ten o'clock in the morning, 
 with a fine piece of cheese and a full tumbler of wine, after 
 a march, begun just after sunrise, has given you a smart ap- 
 petite, is a luxury of which but few who sit down to a dinner 
 at a West End clubhouse know the keenness and pleasure. 
 Next seems to come the travelling by way of swimming. 
 Though I consider myself a pretty fair swimmer, I cannot 
 say, that I should relish much the aquatic expeditions of the 
 correos que nadan* Poor amphibious post-boys, how you 
 must feel when you descend the Guancabamba and Amazon, 
 floating with your bombax stick, and the mail tied round 
 your head! Naturalists mention, as something very re- 
 markable, of the animal homo, that he alone is able to live 
 in all climes. It seems to me much more surprising, indeed, 
 that he can vegetate in all situations, from these paddling 
 couriers, or the sooty chimney-sweeper, to the refined 
 banker in Paris or one of the richest countesses in England; 
 from the beggar at the door of a palace to its inmate, or the 
 starving copyist of music or galley-slave to the dispenser of 
 sinecures or a governor-general of the East Indies, 
 
 It is well that they have not in those countries, where the 
 mail is carried along by swimmers, franked bushels of pam- 
 phlets and papers to send, as we have here. There are cu- 
 rious post-establishments in this world ! I knew an old wo- 
 man who spent her life in walking from Berlin to Posen, 
 and from Posen to Berlin, about a hundred and forty miles. 
 She was called the Living Gazette, Have you ever heard 
 of the celebrated post-office of the whalers at Essex Bay, on 
 one of the Gallapagos Islands in the Pacific? There is a cave, 
 
 * Couriere who swim. — Editoh. 
 
( 184 ) 
 
 well secured against the weather, in which whalers deposite 
 letters sometimes for the information of other whalers, some- 
 times to be taken home, when a returning fellow-hunter on 
 the deep passes by. I had heard of it by whaling captains, 
 and found it, afterwards, mentioned in Lieutenant Pauld- 
 ing's Journal of a Cruise of the United States Schooner Dol- 
 phin among the Islands of the Pacific,* — a little unassuming 
 book, full of interesting items. Lieutenant Paulding found 
 a letter there safely deposited. This insolated fact shows 
 strikingly the existence of a common bond and trust among 
 civilized nations; so does a letter deposited in a post-office 
 of the farthest west of Missouri, which safely arrives in a 
 village in the most eastern part of Germany, if it only has 
 the two words " Via New York and Havre" on its direction. 
 In the middle ages, there was a man who carried letters from 
 Pomerania to the students of that country in the university 
 of Paris, and when I lived in Rome the " courier " was yet 
 existing, who regularly carried letters from Rome to Spain. 
 And yet we are told the world goes back; or is it main- 
 tained that improvements of this kind belong to the indus- 
 try of nations only, which is allowed on all hands to improve 
 rapidly, while, morally, we degenerate? I would deny this; 
 there is morality in an intercourse of this kind between na- 
 tions; it requires a universal acknowledgment of certain 
 broad principles of honor and morality. — It will yet hap- 
 pen, within the next hundred years, that letters are directed 
 from London to Canton, (perhaps, to Peking,) via New 
 York and the city which will rise at the mouth of the Co- 
 lumbia River. 
 
 And now contrast the general post-office, as you may well 
 call it, of the Gallapagos Islands with that in London. When 
 I, for the first time, past through the old London post-office, 
 an unpretending narrow building, and found, written on a 
 little table, " Mails due from Hamburg, Malta, Jamaica, Ca- 
 nada," with a long list of other places and islands all over 
 
 • New York, 1831. — Eijitor. 
 
( 1S5 ) 
 
 the world, I was forcibly reminded^ by this small board, of 
 Great Britain's vast dominion, and knew of nothing with 
 which to compare it, except the many confessionals in the 
 nave of Rome's St. Peter, over each of which the name of a 
 particular language is written, inviting the faithful of all na- 
 tions to confess in their own tongue. Over one stands Lin- 
 gua Germanica, over another Lingua Gallica, Anglica, His- 
 panica, Hungarica, Lusitana, Neograeca, &c. 
 
 But, to return to my swimming travellers. The peasants 
 of a certain part of Bavaria sometimes journey in a manner 
 not much different from the Indian in the Amazon. They 
 take large logs of wood, dispose somehow or other of their 
 little baggage, place themselves in a riding position on the 
 hind end, and down they go, much in the beaver fashion, 
 their feet dangling all the time in the water. 
 
 Travelling on horseback is, in some countries, very agree- 
 able. Man's thoughts are freer on the back of an animsilv 
 whose four legs are his own, as Mephistopheles correctly 
 suggests. But the care of a horse, his liability to indispo- 
 sitions, the regular rests which he requires, and the slow- 
 ness of this way of travelling, are serious drawbacks to em- 
 ploying a horse's back for our seat. We cannot, besides, 
 speed our journey by taking, now and then, a " lift" in the 
 stage-coaches, as we may do when we go on foot; and it is 
 very convenient to cross rapidly an uninteresting country, 
 like skipping over an insipid passage of an otherwise good 
 book. To ride on a mule with a caravan of muleteers is 
 always interesting; for the muleteer has a thousand amusing 
 and instructive things and anecdotes to tell you ;^ provided 
 nature has given you the skill of easily assimilating with 
 people of this class. A peculiar gift of the kind is not, how- 
 ever, required, at least in any uncommon degree, when you 
 pass over the mountains from France to Spain; when the 
 girl who takes care of the mule, rides with you on the same 
 faithful animal; words are then found easily. 
 
 To travel in a sedan must be abominable. When I 
 
 went up Vesuvius I could not even endure the idea of see- 
 
 24 
 
( 186 ) 
 
 ing men laboring hard in the heat of the sun only to move 
 my flesh and skeleton; and preferred paying something to 
 the men who offered themselves, and going up alone. How- 
 ever, in India it is often impossible to travel in any other 
 way, and people soon accustom themselves to see the trot- 
 ting bipeds under the litter on which they recline. To tra- 
 vel poste-haste, either on an ostrich, as Mr. Moore has seen, 
 or on a dolphin with Arion, or on a cannon ball, as Miinch- 
 hausen tried, jumping from one twenty-four pounder, shot 
 into the fortress, upon another, shot out of it — or navigating 
 the air in Zambullo's style, by holding fast to the mantle of 
 the diable hoiteux — or, which is the equal of any of these, 
 sliding from the snowy mountain tops on a small sledge in 
 the Swiss fashion, I do not believe will generally be consi- 
 dered the ne plus ultra of comfort. A camel in the desert 
 makes you ^ea-sick, during the first days, and I have never 
 been rocked in a howdah on an elephant's back. Nor has it 
 been my lot to try the Esquimaux dog or the reindeer. On 
 an ass I have travelled, and its short, broken step is paradisia- 
 cal comfort compared to a ride on a cow, to which I was once 
 obliged to resort, in the army, when I had hurt myself by a 
 fall. The toilsome journeying in our farthest west, when 
 by turns the canoe carries you and you carry the canoe, and 
 when the packages and provisions are taken over the por- 
 tages by the trotting voyageurs in the way that cats carry a 
 number of kittens from one place to another — by running 
 to and fro, and thus transporting the goods by instalments — 
 is a style of travelling which cannot abound in pleasure. 
 
 But now, we have all sorts of travelling in wagons, carts, 
 and coaches; from the rickety one horse omnibus in the 
 south of France, to the proud and flying mail-coach in Eng- 
 land — from the wagon of the New England emigrant, to 
 the vettorino from Florence to Rome — and from the snail- 
 like, ancient post baggage-wagon, to the light Tartar in 
 Turkey: and then there is all the travelling by water, from 
 the raft on the Rhine, or the American rivers, to the refined 
 packet of New York and Philadelphia—from the boat on 
 
( 187 ) 
 
 the Nile, where you are devoured by insects, to our boat on 
 the grand canal, where you must look out not to arrive in 
 Buffalo without a head — from the slow market-boat between 
 Mayence and Frankfort, to the darting steamboat in our 
 west. — But, there would never be an end, were we to enu- 
 merate all the ways of crawling and creeping, which it after 
 all remains, of bustling man. Only of one more way of 
 compound locomotion will I tell you. 
 
 It is said that Frederic William I., King of Prussia, who 
 liked a joke, though it might be a rude one, overheard a 
 peasant saying to his companion, that if he were the king 
 he would not move otherwise than in a sedan. "You shall 
 try it," said the king, stepping forward; and soon after 
 the wished-for conveyance was brought. The peasant 
 stepped in, but the king had ordered the bottom to be taken 
 out — and now the carriers began to run, and wind about, 
 forward and backward, over stones and through mire, until 
 the shins of the poor fellow within were deplorably sore. 
 At length they halted — and when the king asked the pea- 
 sant how he was pleased with the royal conveyance, he an- 
 swered, "Uncommonly, sire, uncommonly; only, to say the 
 truth, if it were not for the honor, it would be almost like 
 walking." Don't you think there are many things in this 
 life very much like this sedan? and, alas! kings themselves 
 are but too often obliged to go through honorable but shin- 
 breaking procedures of this kind. How often do they not 
 look with envy upon a simple, healthful pedestrian, — whose 
 whole power of self-locomotion still remains inviolate, — 
 from their gilt and ornamented, but narrow and uncomfort- 
 able incasement, in which, however splendid it may be, they 
 remain men like all their fellow creatures — with the same 
 pains and desires, and not an inch higher from the ground 
 than those, who, in their turn, admire and envy them. 
 
 I thought this would be " positively the last " anecdote, 
 but I am bold enough to take the Russian ultimatums to the 
 Porte, for my example. Were there not four of them? The 
 train which my ideas took by the last anecdote, calls up 
 
( 18S ) 
 
 another, which is of too generic and representative a cha- 
 racter, to be omitted. You will thank me for communi- 
 cating it to you, when I tell you, that I have it from a source, 
 which allows no doubt of its truth; besides, the whole is 
 but natural. 
 
 The Empress Josephine, had sent some exquisite Parisian 
 toys to her little and favorite grandson, Louis, the son of 
 the King of Holland. When they were unpacked, and the 
 Queen of Holland, who was a most tender mother, was an- 
 ticipating the pleasure of her child, the prince disappointed 
 her entirely, by the little interest he seemed to take in all the 
 beautiful toys and contrivances around him. He would look 
 at them, but alvv^ays return to the window from which he 
 looked out, with a longing desire, into the street. " Louis, 
 are you not charmed with these beautiful play-things?" — 
 " Yes, but" — " What is your desire? look here with what 
 tender care, the Empress has chosen these handsome play- 
 things to give you pleasure?" — " Oh, they are very fine, 
 
 but " " But what, my child; can you wish for any thing 
 
 else? don't you feel grateful to grandmamma.^" — " Yes, cer- 
 tainly I do." — " But they do not seem to amuse you much!" 
 " They do; but, mamma, if I only could walk for a short time 
 in the mud there, with that child in the square!" 
 
 A friend of mine instructed Princess , in German, 
 
 and for a long time, he could not bestow a more acceptable 
 reward upon his royal pupil, than by telling her of the rus- 
 tic and primitive life of some peasants on the continent; 
 on the same principle that every tale for peasant girls must 
 begin with, " There was a beautiful princess." 
 
 Every great monarch has been glad to throw off, at times, 
 the lacing of royalty and to appear like an equal of others. 
 Harun Alreshid, Charlemagne, Henry IV., Frederic the 
 Great, Napoleon, all have enjoyed this pleasure, though but 
 for a moment. To say the truth, I should think, it must be 
 a tedious way, di campare* to be born for a throne, without 
 
 • Italian, for "getting' along." We were one evening addressed in Na- 
 ples by a man, who looked reduced in his circumstances indeed, but had 
 
( 189 ) 
 
 uncommon capacity; to be above the law, to owe nothing to 
 one's own exertions, and to be from birth at the ne plus ultra 
 of life. This, undoubtedly, is one of the great reasons why 
 so many monarchs have loved conquest. They want to be 
 active; the meanest of their subjects can say, "This I have 
 done;" they alone find every thing done to their hands. 
 Lucian was not wrong when he pitied the gods for their 
 Olympic ennui. Kings are always something of a Dalai 
 Lama; honored and revered outlaws; — sacrifices to society, 
 whose welfare often requires one visible being above the 
 law, just to fill a place, that no continual quarrel for it shall 
 disturb the peace. I am thankful for being under the law, 
 a citizen, a whole man; for man was created to be a be- 
 ing under the law. Or, must we presume, that for the 
 very reason which elevates monarchs above the common in- 
 terests, and cares, and pangs of ambition, they seek a higher 
 sphere of activity, and strive to do good for its own sake? 
 That, from their peculiar situation they have an immense 
 start before other men, and can deliver, when three years 
 old, a speech "with peculiar grace," as Croly says in his 
 Life of George IV., the prince did, when receiving the society 
 of Ancient Britons, on St. David's day? History records, 
 as yet, no such necessary consequence, and every book of 
 memoirs shows us, that kings have all the same petty troubles, 
 jealousies, pains, and griefs, that we have; toothache, gout, 
 and all the other elements of vexation of our mortal bodies; 
 and as strong a disrelish of a minister's popularity, as the 
 minister has of his first secretary. 
 
 It has often appeared to me, that since the succession by 
 primogeniture has been firmly established in Europe, which 
 was the only way of securing those advantages which are 
 peculiar to monarchies, there is no situation less enviable, 
 than that of a brother to a king or crown-prince. With all 
 
 nevertheless the clerical distinctions of dress. We expressed our amaze- 
 ment at being asked for alms by a person in this dress, when we received 
 the answer, "./Ih/ che vuol signore, cosi si campa,'^ — (Ah sir, what use is it to 
 talk? thus wc must'try to get along.) — EniTon. 
 
( 190 ) 
 
 the privations of the monarch, and they are numberless in- 
 deed, they have not his power, and must see the same honor, 
 due to their birth, paid to greatness risen by merit. There 
 are but few princes who create their own sphere, as the noble 
 Prince Henry the Navigator. Why? — have not many the 
 power to promote, in a similar way, knowledge, or art, or 
 the progress of discovery? — Simply, because they are 
 princes by birth. 
 
 Yet there are two sides to every subject, and a prince to 
 whom has been given a noble soul, can do much good in 
 certain ways, for the very reason that he is so fixedly ele- 
 vated, and yet not the actual ruler. Only it requires a truly 
 noble soul, to pass uninjured, through the ordeal of high ele- 
 vation from earliest infancy. 
 
 Esquirol, in his Lectures, states that the proportion of de- 
 ranged monarchs to other people under an alienation of mind, 
 is as sixty to one — a bitter comment upon the principle 
 of legitimacy! — since Esquirol ascribes to the want of cross- 
 breeding, this proportion, so enormous, even if we make all 
 possible allowance for the fact, that not a single deranged 
 ruler escapes public notice, while the lists of lunatic subjects 
 will always be defective. If Esquirol be correct in assigning 
 this cause for so startling a fact, we would have another rea- 
 son against the philosophy of the principle, for the first time 
 officially pronounced by the Congress of Vienna, that a le- 
 gitimate heir to a throne can be only an individual descend- 
 ing from two parents legitimately descending from sovereign 
 families. Strange, some countries are peculiarly jealous of 
 the birthright of their citizens, and will not allow a foreigner 
 to hold as much as an inferior office; and, according to the 
 principle of legitimacy, as now observed, the monarch, in 
 whom all nationality ought to concentrate, must always be 
 half a foreigner; and some dynasties never can become na- 
 turalized by blood, e. g. the Hanoverian race on the English 
 throne, which was, and ever has remained German in blood 
 and bone. The same is the case with the Holstein race, on 
 the throne of Russia, and, in other cases, it leads to the re- 
 
( 191 ) 
 
 suit that a foreigner rules over a nation peculiarly proud of 
 its nationality; of which we have an instance in the present 
 government of Spain. The same was the case with the mo- 
 ther of Louis XIV., with Mary of Medici, Catherine of 
 Russia, and many other sovereigns. Monarchies will yet 
 last for many nations a long time, owing to their state of po- 
 litical as well as social development, or to their relations 
 with other states; hut even Chateaubriand said, in the cham- 
 ber of peers, on the 19th of April, 1831, "I do not believe 
 in the divine right of kings," and " monarchy is no longer a 
 religion; it is a political form." Nay, even the Duke of 
 Fitz-James waived the idea of divine right, and appealed to 
 the people. Our time has seen so many thrones tumbling 
 down and in the state of being raised, has seen so many 
 crowns handed round like dishes of no peculiar attraction, 
 and of which the " refusal " at most was asked, that the only 
 safe authority for a crown, is reason and the interest of the 
 people; but as to prolonging the belief that there is some- 
 thing peculiar in an anointed race, an actual difference be- 
 tween the blood of a ruling family and other blood, — why, 
 people who have gone through our time and seen dozens of 
 kings stripped of their purple, and appearing like any other 
 mortal beings, and who have had, by memoirs and docu- 
 ments, so many peeps behind the curtain, cannot, even if 
 they wished it, force such a theory upon their belief. Plain 
 naked facts would stand fight with it, even in the most 
 loyal mind of a devout continental tory; he might as well 
 force himself to believe three times three are ten; facts are 
 facts, and must remain such to the world's end. The more 
 times have advanced, the more has royalty been enabled to 
 rest its power upon moral grounds. The kings of Prussia 
 are never crowned, and if we compare a monarch of nor- 
 thern Europe with an Asiatic ruler, surrounded by the trap- 
 pings and pompous show of eastern despotism, and consider 
 how much less of the forms and formalities of royalty is, in 
 our times, found to be necessary for giving it stability and 
 authority, than but a century ago, we shall come to the con- 
 
( 192 ) 
 
 elusion, that the time may not be too far when it will not 
 be considered any longer dangerous, that dynasties should 
 continue their race without exposing themselves to the fright- 
 ful consequences pointed out by Esquirol. 
 
 However, I must confess to you, that some farther proof 
 ought to be brought to support the assertion of that distin- 
 guished man, that the " breeding in and in," as it is termed, of 
 the European dynasties, is the only cause of the enormous fre- 
 quency of derangement which dwells under crowns. In for- 
 mer ages, not a few consorts of monarchs have, with the most 
 maternal feeling for their people, taken care of a proper ad- 
 mixture of renovating blood in their race. Beaux Rantzaus 
 are not so exceedingly rare in European history; and, though 
 I know it is asserted, and, I believe, pretty well tested, that 
 Jews, Quakers, and Catholics, in England, produce more in- 
 sane people than others, owing, as it seems, to their mar- 
 rying generally among themselves, yet I do not remember 
 having read that in those villages in Europe, the inhabitants 
 of which marry hardly ever a girl out of their place, and 
 often have but one family name, insanity is met with more 
 often than in other villages. An inquiry of this kind would 
 be interesting and very easy. There are many peasants who 
 would have the best claim to high nobility, if belonging to an 
 " old family " constitutes one of the chief ingredients of no- 
 blesse. That cross-breeding improves the race I have little 
 doubt, on the principle that the farmer, both in Europe and 
 America, exchanges grain with his neighbor, to avoid de- 
 terioration. As far as my observation goes, I must say, that 
 I have generally found bright children in the families of pa- 
 rents of two different nations, though I allow that this result 
 can be accounted for in a different way. This, at first sight, 
 would appear to be in favor of the ruling dynasties, but we 
 must recollect, that they have thoroughly mixed so many 
 years since, that they form, by this time, one general race, 
 and, again, it has been found by many travellers, that, in 
 large capitals, the situation of which invites people of many 
 different nations to settle within them, those classes in which 
 
 • "* 
 
( 193 ) 
 
 all nations mix for a long time, receive an addition in a 
 breed, which is far from being desirable for a good popu- 
 lation. 
 
 Whatever is born, constructed, or contrived in this nether 
 world, carries with it the germ of dissolution. The very- 
 principle which gives it life or start becomes the cause of its 
 decline. Monarchy, aristocracy, democracy, can give great 
 elan to a nation; but the principle of legitimacy carries 
 within it the germ of change, equally with the principle of 
 universal suffrage. Nothing shall last for ever, except the 
 plans of the great Ruler. 
 
 How does, on the other hand, our system of politics af- 
 fect the mind? Arc the frequent excitements, which pene- 
 trate into the smallest arteries of our whole social system, 
 not productive of much evil in this very particular? Aris- 
 totle, even in his time, observed the great prevalence of in- 
 sanity among politicians, and Esquirol says, that a history 
 of the French revolution might be written from the variety 
 of cases, to be found in a French insane hospital, so much 
 has each convulsive change of politics and government af- 
 fected the hopes, desires, ambition, or happiness of a num- 
 ber of persons, strengthened as this effect was, by a very 
 universal absence of that confidence which firmly relies on 
 the guiding care of a kind and wise supreme Ruler. Do 
 then our politics not lead, with many individuals, to an alien- 
 ation of mind? Certainly many act in a way which would 
 make the observer suppose that but the final disappointment 
 in the result of an election is wanting in order to lead them 
 one step farther — to the loss of reason? 
 
 I have paid some attention to this subject, so worthy of 
 inquiry, and from my visits to the insane hospitals in the 
 United States, I am inclined to believe that political disap- 
 pointment is very rarely the final cause of loss of reason. I 
 say, from my visits to these hospitals; for it seemed to me that 
 the view of the causes of insanity, now often adopted among 
 English physicians, and which ascribes the origin of aliena- 
 
 25 
 
( 194 ) 
 
 tion to physical causes alone, is very frequently to be found 
 also among American physicians. That I cannot subscribe 
 to this opinion, appears from the remarks I have already 
 made. The proofs to the contrary seem to me numerous 
 and conclusive, if patient investigation, unbiassed by pre- 
 conceived ideas, or a fondness for a system, or some general 
 views, be given to the matter. However, I am not going 
 to give you a medical treatise. 
 
 How much the frequent recurrence of political excitement 
 may gradually dispose many individuals in this country, final- 
 ly to fall victims to a disturbance of the mental faculties,! have 
 had, of course, no opportunity to observe. But, as I stated, 
 I believe that the frequent changes in politics are not preg- 
 nant with the same disastrous consequences here as they 
 have been in other countries, for instance, in France. Seve- 
 ral good reasons, it seems to me, may be given for this dif- 
 ference. And first, the very frequency of elections neutra- 
 lizes the injurious effect, which, otherwise, the disappoint- 
 ment they necessarily must bring to one party, would have 
 on the mind of many individuals. To-day a man is thrown 
 out, a party vanquished, — to-morrow he goes to work again, 
 and hopes for success the next time. Secondly, however 
 great the excitement may appear, on paper or in words, the 
 people know very well that their lives and property are not 
 in jeopardy; that whatever party may come in or go out, 
 the broad principles of the whole system will be acted upon, 
 the general laws will be observed. Should it ever come 
 with us to that point, that the monstrous idea should pre- 
 vail, that liberty exists there only where the majority can 
 do what they please — while, on the contrary, the degree of 
 existing liberty can justly be measured only by the degree 
 of undoubted protection which the minority enjoys, and the 
 degree in which the sovereign, be he one or many, or re- 
 presented by the majority, is restricted, by fundamental laws, 
 from acting on sudden impulses and impassioned caprices, 
 to which a body of men is as subject as a single man — 
 should it ever come with us to this absolutism, for absolu- 
 
( 195 ) 
 
 tism is there where the representative of sovereignty can 
 act capriciously and uncontrolled; then, indeed, our insane 
 hospitals would become as much the direful records of man's 
 fickleness as, according to Esquirol, the French hospitals 
 now are. Thirdly, there is in this country no dishonor what- 
 ever connected either with being turned out of office or 
 being vanquished at an election. It is no shame to be de- 
 feated. One party must be victorious, and the other tries to 
 be so the next time. An American, as the member of a 
 party, may be defeated, he is never conquered. Persecu- 
 tions do not take place; the successful party does not annihi- 
 late its opponents — each party continues to have its meetings, 
 papers, &c. And, as in those periods in which many per- 
 sons are discharged from public places, it is most openly ac- 
 knowledged that politics alone is the reason, all blemish 
 which may be attached to the loss of an office in public 
 service, in countries where no such changes occur, must va- 
 nish; while, again, the country offers so many opportunities 
 of gaining one's livelihood, that, also, in this respect, a loss 
 of office is not so ruinous as in France, where a man often 
 thinks his honor is gone, and his career for ever destroyed, 
 as soon as he is thrown out of public employment. The fre- 
 quency of changes, likewise, prevents the higher offices from 
 becoming the objects of so ardent an ambition as to af- 
 fect seriously the mental faculties of the disappointed candi- 
 date. 
 
 As I have touched upon this subject, I may mention here 
 an interesting case of alienation, with which I met in the 
 Manhattanville hospital, near New York. The individual 
 to whom I refer, a man apparently of the lower classes, la- 
 bored under the very common delusion of being a monarch. 
 He called himself Henry I., I think, emperor of the United 
 States. He was an ardent newspaper reader, and the inte- 
 rest of the case lay in the readiness with which his disturbed 
 mind assimilated whatever he read to his presumed state of 
 royalty, and the rapidity with which it invented causes of 
 which what he read appeared to him the consequences, pre- 
 
( 19G ) 
 
 cisely in the same way as our mind, when wo are asleep, 
 and some pain aflfects us, often invents, in dreaming, va- 
 rious causes of which, according to the dream, this pain is 
 the final effect, though, in reality, it is the cause of the whole 
 dream. The patient read in my presence the news relating 
 to the election of the governor of his state, and immediate- 
 ly showed me that and how he appointed him, turning, 
 with great ingenuity, the various data of the election into 
 items of his story, with a zeal and earnestness, as if all the 
 cares of government had rested on his shoulders. So he 
 showed me some cents, which, according to him, were me- 
 dals coined on occasion of some victories which he had 
 gained, pointing out to me a number of emblematic allu- 
 sions, the images of which his diseased mind undoubtedly 
 perceived in that moment. 
 
 Tn speaking of derangement, I remember a circumstance, 
 which will not be without interest to you, though it be irre- 
 levant in this place. The physician of an establishment for 
 the insane, introduced me to a gentleman under his care, 
 Avho betrayed no symptoms whatever of a disturbed mind, 
 yet his focultics were deranged. He held a book in his hand, 
 which, he informed me, he was perusing with great interest. 
 It was Dr. Spurzheim's work on insanity. He praised it in 
 some respects, in others he criticized it, and when I declared, 
 on one occasion, my dissent from his opinion, he assured me 
 that he knew what he maintained from his own experience, 
 and never have I heard any one speak more rationally on 
 insanity than this deranged man. The conversation became 
 too painful to me, and I wished to break it off, but he per- 
 ceived the cause of my desire, and tried very calmly to 
 quiet my apprehensions. One of the most eminent phy- 
 sicians in Philadelphia told me that he owns a copy of 
 Dr. Rush's work on insanity, with notes throughout by a 
 deranged man, who formerly was in the hospital of Phila- 
 delphia. 
 
 The appalling frequency of alienation of mind, in some 
 parts of our country, is chiefly owing to other causes, at 
 
( 197 ) 
 
 least final causes, than politics. It is religious excitement, I 
 believe, together with a diseased anxiety to be equal to the 
 wealthiest, the craving for wealth and consequent disap- 
 pointment, which ruins the intellect of many. But of that 
 more anon. 
 
( 198 ) 
 
 LETTER XII. 
 
 At Schenectady you may take passage in a canal boat; and 
 I would advise every traveller, who has not yet seen the Grand 
 Canal, to do so. The valley of the Mohawk, along which the 
 canal goes as far as Rome, is, in many parts, very beautiful, 
 and seen to much greater advantage from the canal boat than 
 from a stage-coach; and it is well worth the while to become 
 acquainted with this great work — a clamp by which the west 
 of this union is tightly fastened to the east and north; one of 
 the great siphons which equalizes prices and wages in this 
 vast country, and thus contributes not a little to the stability 
 of our political existence. It is, indeed, as yet, the greatest 
 monument which this part of the world affords, of man's 
 conquering superiority over matter. Yet, perhaps, it will 
 be outstripped by the noble communication which Penn- 
 sylvania is leading over mountains and through valleys west- 
 ward to the Ohio, and which, if finished, will prove for ever 
 the boldness of its projector. On the other hand, the New 
 York canal was the first of these extensive works; — a fact 
 which will remain a great testimony in the history of civi- 
 lization, in favor qf the state which gave it birth. It shows 
 Gothe's good sense, that the progress of this canal interest- 
 ed him so much. I will send you, by the next opportunity, 
 a copy of the Laws of the State of New York in Relation 
 
( 199 ) 
 
 to the Erie and Champlain Canals, &c., Albany, 1825, where 
 you will find, in detail, an official history of these great 
 works. The study of this undertaking has been a source 
 of deep interest to me, and I doubt not it will be so to you. 
 I shall add Darby's View of the United States, which will 
 give you a much more accurate view of the geological cha- 
 racter of these parts of the country, than an account of mine 
 could afford you; and as the natural features of the United 
 States do not change quite as rapidly as the statistics, the 
 book will be still valuable when you receive it. As to the 
 statistics, an author, I should almost think, would feel 
 tempted to say nothing about them, and follow the ex- 
 ample of the editors of the New Hampshire Laws, pub- 
 lished by Authority in, 1830, who thought fit to put the 
 following sagacious notice on the title page of their collec- 
 tion. " This edition comprehends all the general and public 
 statutes now in force, excepting an act passed the 3d day of 
 January, 1829, entitled 'An act establishing a board of road 
 commissioners for layihg out and repairing highways,' 
 which is omitted under the expectatio7i tJiat it will he re- 
 pealed at the ensuing session of the Legislature. " For our 
 statistics and every feature imprinted upon the country by 
 civilization are continually undergoing so rapid changes, that 
 what was true a year ago, may be antiquated to-day. 
 
 These immense canals send branches into many directions, 
 by which they are connected with navigable rivers, lakes 
 and roads, nor is this system by any means completed. 
 Branch canals and rail-roads are continually adding; nay, 
 rail-roads are building along the canal, as if there were no 
 end to American activity. Thus the building of a rail- 
 road from Albany to Utica, will soon begin, the company 
 being already incorporated. Could but a little of this quick- 
 ness in practical perception, and boldness in embarking in 
 the most daring enterprises, be engrafted upon German 
 steadiness and thoroughness, it would produce fine fruits in- 
 deed. But it must be remembered, how different an aspect 
 
 
( 200 ) 
 
 all Germany would present, were she not chopped into pieces, 
 and could enterprise, as freely work its way into all direc- 
 tions as in this extensive and untrammelled country. 
 
 When the canal was first opened, farmers, whose property 
 lay close to this great blood-vessel of the state, had their own 
 barges to carry their produce to advantageous markets; but 
 the navigation of all kinds, for goods and passengers, who 
 required good accommodations, became within a short time 
 so brisk, that private navigation, if I can use this expression 
 as contradistinguished to company navigation, soon ceased. 
 There are yet many proprietors of single barges, but they 
 make a business of canal navigation; no farmers, as I under- 
 stand, have any longer boats for their own use. — You know 
 that the state derives a very great revenue from this source. 
 
 It is interesting to see how this easy intercourse makes, we 
 might almost say, one place out of many habitations, at dis- 
 tances from one another, which would otherwise be consi- 
 dered great. It is likewise worthy of attention, that, where- 
 as, in the common course of things, the vender is usually sta- 
 tionary and the buyer goes to him; here, on the other hand, as 
 in the primary stages of society, the seller moves from place 
 to place — a way of trafficking which extends to the smallest 
 details; it is, if you choose to call it so, an aquatic peddling. 
 
 Even knowledge is brought in this way within the reach 
 of the inhabitants of detached houses, by floating circu- 
 lating libraries. On the Mississippi, this system of hawking 
 has been extended, in some branches, still farther. There 
 are on that river several floating companies of actors. They 
 sail in their flat boats, fitted up for theatres, from plantation 
 to plantation, perform, and break up when their receipts do 
 not warrant a longer stay. The Chapman family were the 
 first who conceived the clever idea of leading Thalia to the 
 door of every spectator, instead of calling him to her tem- 
 ple, and of teaching Melpomene to lead an amphibious life. 
 Here, then, the scarcity of population produces a similar ef- 
 fect to what results in some parts of China, from over-popu- 
 lation. 
 
( 201 ) 
 
 When I came down from Utica to Schenectady, on my 
 way home, I believe that not two hours passed without our 
 meeting one or several barges laden with Germans — excellent 
 stock for Michigan, whither most proceeded, as they told me 
 in passing. " As many of them as you can spare," said an 
 American to me: " they are all useful men provided they will 
 mix ; their steadiness finds ample reward on those fertile plains 
 in the west." Amen, said I, and thought of Pope Nicholas 
 v., who, in 1451, charged the ambassador of the Teutonic Or- 
 der to import for him a number of Germans, to be employed 
 in the papal chuncelleria, on account of their trustiness and 
 industrious habits. 
 
 How easily do these emigrants seem to sever themselves 
 from their native country, if we compare their willingnesss 
 to emigrate or contentment in foreign regions, with the ideas 
 of an ancient colonist or exile! When a number of Greeks 
 left their beloved country to colonise a spot, distant for the di- 
 minutive dimensions of antiquity, they took with them a 
 lamp lighted by the sacred fire of their temple. They took 
 their gods with them, and yet would for many generations 
 consider Greece their true home, toward which the most anx- 
 ious wishes of their heart steadily pointed. When a man 
 was banished from the narrow territory of his native city, 
 he felt himself deprived of the customs of his people, of his 
 legal rights, of his gods — he was henceforth but half a man. 
 An Athenian in Sparta, was a stranger indeed. 
 
 In the middle ages, the Christian religion was spread over 
 all Europe, and with greater uniformity even than at present; 
 yet the intercourse not only between nations, but also be- 
 tween petty states and cities, was of a kind to deprive an in- 
 dividual, thrown among strangers, of many of the rights 
 most necessary for his well being. It was exceedingly diffi- 
 cult for him to find a new home. Nor were, at that time, social 
 intercourse and the common habits of men founded upon so 
 universal and broad principles, as to allow the foreigner to 
 feel himself at ease. The Florentine wept in Ferrara or 
 
 Venice, for his home, hxa pairia, we cannot say hiscountrt/. 
 
 26 
 
( 202 ) 
 
 It is far difierent now. An emigrant leaves the place of 
 his birth, travels many hundred miles through a foreign 
 country, crosses the wide ocean, travels a thousand miles 
 into the interior of another hemisphere, and builds his hut. 
 He is among strangers, it is true, yet he finds there the same 
 dress, the same manners, the same principles of morality, 
 the same God. If the language which surrounds him in his 
 new country, be not his native tongue, the sentiments, views, 
 and customs of the people, whose neighbor he has become, 
 are mainly those with which he has grown up, and the friend- 
 lessness of a foreign tongue, which must have weighed most 
 heavily upon the mind of an exile in antiquity, loses much 
 of its asperity. There is a Catholicism in modern morality, 
 knowledge and civilization, which makes an individual be- 
 longing to the European family, feel easier at home, wher- 
 ever he may be within the pale of European civilization. 
 This ease, I willingly allow, is greater still among the great 
 families of nations, into which the European race is divided. 
 A German will generally find himself sooner at home among 
 English or Americans, than a Frenchman or Italian. A 
 Pole, perhaps, less so than either; yet to whatever nation 
 he may belong, if he be but of one of the most civilized 
 nations, he will feel more at home with any of the others, 
 than a man of Epirus did in Argolis. And an Egyptian 
 could hardly have lived in Messenia. 
 
 I have often tried to ascer'tain whether emigrants of the 
 class, to which most of those belong who go to America, 
 feel home-sick after they have resided for some time in 
 this country. Italians and French never give up the hope 
 of regaining their native shore. Germans, English, Scotch, 
 and Irish assimilate much easier with the natives of this 
 country and join in its whole national system. The natural 
 talent of a German to acquire a foreign language may con- 
 tribute much to his greater ease in assimilating. The ad- 
 vantage which the emigrants of the three other countries 
 have, in point of language, over all the rest, need not be 
 mentioned. The French form, in the larger cities, where 
 
( 203 ) 
 
 there is a sufficient number of them, a circle much for 
 themselves; and I have known a lady who came to this 
 country when fifteen years old, from St. Domingo, at the 
 time of the insurrection of the negroes in that island, and 
 whose husband was a zealous admirer of American institu- 
 tions; who, nevertheless, had not learned to speak, still less 
 to read, English, when I became acquainted with her, but 
 a year ago. In Berlin, I knew of a French silk weaver who 
 did not know German after he had resided more than twen- 
 ty-five years in that city, and must have been obliged by his 
 station in society, to live in continual contact with the na- 
 tives. 
 
 I may, however, mention here a fact, which surprises a 
 foreigner much, when he first arrives in this country; which 
 is, that the Irish, — in spite of what I have said above of their 
 facility in assimilating with the Americans, — clan more to- 
 gether than the emigrants of any other nation. They, in 
 fact, openly retain their name, and often, in the very mo- 
 ment that they make use of the highest privileges of citi- 
 zenship which any country can bestow, they do it under 
 the banner of Irishmen. There is no election in any of the 
 large cities without some previous calls upon the " true-born 
 sons of Ireland," to vote so or so. On the election day it- 
 self banners are seen floating from the windows of taverns,* 
 
 • By the by, there is among- other laws of the canton Lausanne, in Swit- 
 zerland, relating to the safe management of elections, one which prohibits 
 the opening of winehouses or shops where liquors of any kind are sold, or 
 the sale of liquoi"s in any other way. If this be done in wine countries, what 
 ought we to do in a grog-countiy ? Reports of temperance societies have 
 already designated election days as peculiarly mischievous with regard to in- 
 temperance. If our whole political system finally rests upon the votes of the ci- 
 tizens, it is certainly within the pale of state legislation to take such measures 
 as to ensure the weakest and most decrepit old man a free passage to the bal- 
 lot-box — that sacred covenant of om- liberty; the safety of which has, as to 
 our national existence, precisely the same importance as, in monarchies, the 
 assurance of the legitimate birth of the monarch. Make the ballot-box un- 
 safe, and we have the worst, the very worst times of Rome at once. On 
 whatever principle a government may be founded, that principle must be 
 sustainfd in its purity, or convulsions arc the necessary consequence, more 
 
( 304 ) 
 
 some of which, you may be certain, are ornamented with 
 mottos having reference to the Irish alone. They go far- 
 ther, sometimes; they will bring forward their own candi- 
 date, if they feel strong enough. All this is, to speak guard- 
 edly, at least, impolite towards the natives, who receive 
 the foreigner with a degree of national hospitality unequalled 
 by any other nation. Every career on the wide field of en- 
 terprise which is open to the natural citizens of this repub- 
 lic, is equally open to the naturalized. After the brief pe- 
 riod of five years' residence, any alien may take the citi- 
 zen's oath, and this done, he enjoys every privilege of which 
 a free-born American can. boast, an vuistinted citizenship, 
 with the single exception that he cannot become a president 
 of the United States. The least that could be expected, in 
 return for such a boon, it should be supposed, would be the 
 frankest and most heartfelt union, in every thing, with the na- 
 tion, which so hospitably makes no difierence between its own 
 sons and the new comers. But the Irish are desirous of be- 
 coming Americans and yet remaining Irish; and this serving 
 of two masters will not do. Whatever the inmost feelings 
 of an emigrant toward his native country may be, and with 
 every generous heart will be, as a citizen of America, he 
 should be American and American only, or let him remain 
 alien. As the latter, he is protected as much by the law of 
 the land as is a citizen; there is no necessity whatever for 
 
 or less violent, according to tlie previous dissolution of the elements which 
 compose the state — and our principle is the ballot-box. He who disturbs 
 with us free and calm voting, whether secretly or openly, commits the gi-eat- 
 est high treason which a citizen of the United States can commit, a much 
 greater one, in our opinion, than Arnold committed. Infamy ought to be at- 
 tached to this species of high-treason, and no more important truth can be im- 
 pressed upon our children, at home and in school, than this, that if we make 
 all our politics depend upon the Avill of the people, it is barbarity and crime, 
 to throw obstacles in the legitimate way of expressing this will — an incon- 
 gruity from which necessarily and directly the worst species of all despotism 
 must result. It would be ciime in an individual, tliree times accursed crime, 
 if government ever should attempt it — much worse than turning against the 
 nation the arms which it places in tlieir hands to defend it. — Etiitoh. 
 
( 205 ) 
 
 his becoming naturalized. It is, therefore, with great con- 
 cern, that a good citizen must observe that disturbances at 
 elections are not unfrequently caused by those who do not 
 enjoy their citizenship by birthright, sometimes by those 
 who do not enjoy it at all. 
 
 What are the reasons that the Irish in this country clan 
 more together than the emigrants of any other nation? I 
 believe they are threefold. First, more Irish than people 
 of other countries come to the United States, and, as I 
 think, I have observed in a previous letter, they have a pre- 
 dilection for large cities, so that they remain in greater num- 
 bers together. Secondly, the Irish feel that they have been 
 wronged in their country; they have, in a degree, been 
 driven from it; the feelings with which they look back to it 
 are, therefore, of a more intense character than they would 
 otherwise be; or, if this be not the case, they feel among 
 themselves the strong tie of bearing one common wrong. 
 Thirdly, they are encouraged to this clanship by party men; 
 their Irish feelings are flattered and excited, in order to win 
 them; they are called upon as Irish, in order to gain their 
 votes, which become, in some quarters of large cities, or, in- 
 deed, in some whole counties, at times, very important, 
 when, otherwise, the parties might be nearly balanced. 
 
 Let me throw in, here, the remark, though it be not 
 quite in its place, that the common language of the English, 
 Scotch, Irish, and Americans, causes the last, unconsciously 
 to themselves, to consider emigrants of the three first nations 
 when settled among them, nearer akin than those of other 
 countries. There are many Irish in congress, of whom it 
 is hardly known that they are strangers by birth. I have 
 been told a story, which I feel inclined to believe. A Ger- 
 man offered himself for a professorship of one of the colleges 
 in the middle states: he w^as unsuccessful in his application; 
 and it was pretty generally understood, that a native would 
 be preferred; but a short time after, an Irish gentleman ob- 
 tained the chair, certainly not on account of his superiority. 
 This,however,is not always the course of things; for instance, 
 
( 206 ) 
 
 in Cambridge, Massachusetts, there are two Germans who 
 hold prominent professorships. But if you glance over the 
 list of officers of the United States, you will find very many 
 Irish; nor does any difficulty arise at the appointment of one 
 of that people, while the contrary would, probably, be the 
 case were a German, or Frenchmen by birth, to offer himself 
 for a place, which easily might be filled by some one else. 
 This, I think, is not quite fair; the Irish emigrants do by 
 no means deserve more confidence, than those of other 
 countries; and though the existence of a common language, 
 may naturally lead the Americans not to feel so strongly 
 the difference between themselves and the Irish, they ought 
 to be careful not to act upon this feeling, whenever they 
 az'e called upon to guide their judgment in any matter which 
 may arise in relation to this subject. 
 
 Those Swiss who usually emigrate to this country come 
 from the lower part of Switzerland, and are, therefore, less 
 subject to that home-sickness, which, in its patients, assumes 
 the character of a true disease. If I am right, there are 
 three chief causes of this peculiar affection of the nervous 
 system, which begins with an oppression of the heart, and 
 produces a pain of a compound character: it consists half 
 of affliction, half of a physical and very distinct pain, which 
 it has in common with every oppression of the heart, if it 
 continue for any length of time, and from whatever cause 
 it may originate. I do not know whether this be always the 
 beginning, but it was so in a case, than which there could 
 be none more favorable for my personal observation. It 
 is this pain and restlessness, which fill the mind, day and 
 night with images, still more disturbing it, and deprive the 
 body throughout of its necessary elasticity. Thus, as in so 
 many other cases, the effect of one stage becomes the more 
 powerful cause of the next, until the mind has no longer 
 any mastery over the disease, and rapid decline is the neces- 
 sary consequence. There is no doubt, in my mind, but that 
 in many cases, the patient has it in his power to stifle the 
 disease in its incipient stages; as there are a number of other 
 
( 207 ) 
 
 afflictions, which might be thus arrested by a decided will. 
 Any man, who has served in an army visited by disasters, 
 will testify to the truth of what I say. When the mind of 
 the soldier is depressed, his body becomes more disposed to 
 a variety of diseases; hence, there are always so many sick 
 on retreats. It is then that a decided will, not to be sick, 
 often can parry off the beginning and, consequently, the 
 whole disease. — But to proceed to the enumeration of my 
 causes. 
 
 Home-sickness may be occasioned by an overwhelming 
 mass of new ideas, impressions, and new relations in life. 
 When the Swiss, who has lived his whole life in the soli- 
 tude and simplicity of his high Alps, descends into more 
 populous countries, where a brisk intercourse between the 
 various members of society exists, he finds himself in so to- 
 tally new a world, that he cannot feel at ease. I have been 
 told that the inhabitants of Hiddensoe, near Rugen, who 
 live on their barren island in the simplest possible way, half 
 under ground, and feeding hardly upon any thing but fish, 
 are home-sick, when kept long from the spot of their birth. 
 They are accustomed to the simplicity and monotony of their 
 island and the surrounding sea, and feel uneasy in the bustling 
 world. So will often the soldier, from some distant fron- 
 tier province of Austria, hasten home, though he may have 
 risen in the army to a rank, which opens to him any society 
 in Vienna. So strives the Indian to regain his silent woods, 
 or the half-bred hunter, to quit Quebec. Incipient stages of 
 this sickness, may be observed in the uncomfortable feeling 
 which disturbs the mind of an individual who has been ac- 
 customed to a quiet life, and is suddenly thrown into the bustle 
 of a noisy world. But in no case has the peculiar character 
 of this disease shown itself more decidedly than in Caspar 
 Hauser. He was so overwhelmed by all the impressions of the 
 world, when he was first taken from his dungeon, that he felt 
 exceedingly unhappy, complained of constant head-ache, and 
 longed to return to "his hole."* In this instance, there 
 
 * See our note, appended to page 141. — Kditoh. 
 
( 208 ) 
 
 were no bold or beautiful features of nature, no endeared 
 family circle, or memento of his childhood, to reclaim the 
 wanderer; it was the variety of new impressions, which 
 weighed him down and haunted him back. 
 
 Another cause of home-sickness, is the striking peculiarity 
 of the objects which may have surrounded an individual 
 from early childhood, and the images of which have become 
 so associated with the movements of his mind, that he can- 
 not feel happy for any length of time, if not surrounded by 
 them. It is not necessary, that they be beautiful, or should 
 have been the source of happiness to him; it is, in many cases, 
 sufficient that they are strikingly peculiar and different from 
 any thing else with which he meets. Often, indeed, this 
 cause operates in union with the first, and becomes thus the 
 more powerful. Such is the case with the Swiss, and with 
 the unsettled inhabitant of the desert, who feels unhappy 
 whenever removed from the dreary plain of his birth. I 
 knew a German emigrant in this country, who had settled in 
 a part of our Union, where the fertility of the soil prevented 
 the growth of the fir tree, to which he had been accustomed 
 in his native land. Now, few persons will think a common 
 fir tree very beautiful in appearance, nor fragrant on account 
 of the odor of its exuding gum, nor did the emigrant think 
 so either; yet he assured me that he had not rested until he 
 had found a sandy spot, where he could plant some of the 
 trees so sweet to him, and whither he occasionally resorts, 
 in order to "smell home," as he very appropriately termed 
 it. Impressions which we receive through the senses repeat- 
 edly for many years, or in the moment when something 
 extraordinary happens to us, are indelible. Some words 
 which affected me most deeply, and roused my whole indig- 
 nation, were said to me while yet a boy, in the moment that 
 a turkey uttered his peculiar noise, and, to this day, I am 
 unable to hear a turkey without an unpleasant sensation, 
 which often makes itself felt long before my mind becomes 
 conscious of its distant, but still active cause. In a s'imilar 
 Avay, there are, certainly, few persons, if any, who do not 
 
( 209 ) 
 
 consider the scent of box disagreeable. It would be to my 
 nerves decidedly so, were not the unpleasant sensation 
 greatly overbalanced by my association of ideas. Lead me 
 on a hot summer day into a garden with old-fashioned 
 walks linetl with box, and my mind will suddenly float on 
 the waves of delight, before it remembers the Roman gar- 
 den with its purling fountain, where I have spent so many 
 happy hours. 
 
 There was, in 1813, in a corps belonging to the Prussian 
 army, a Dane to whom the commander offered permission to 
 leave the service, since it so happened that this very corps 
 had to act against the Danes, and the commanding officer 
 would not expose him to the pain of fighting against his own 
 countrymen. But the officer, it appeared, had a more tender 
 conscience than the Dane, who said he did not care about 
 the thing one way or the other. The offer was repeated at 
 various periods, but always bluntly declined. At length 
 the regiment in which he served surprised the Danes in 
 their camp, so that the latter were obliged to retreat in great 
 hurry, and to leave much of their baggage and utensils be- 
 hind. When the Prussians took possession of the spot, the 
 fires of the enemy were yet burning, and the little kettles 
 hanging over them. Most of these contained a national 
 dish of the Danes, called grit, and, as all national dishes are 
 much relished by their respective nations, so the grit is high- 
 ly esteemed by these Scandinavians, though other people, 
 probably, would call the pleasure in this peculiar dish " an 
 acquired taste." What no patriotism, it would seem, had 
 been able to effect in our Dane, was now suddenly brought 
 
 about by the grit. " By ," he exclaimed, "these noble 
 
 fellows have grit in their pots." The steaming pot with 
 the grit suddenly stood before his mind as the representa- 
 tive, the most striking to his senses, of his youth, his sisters, 
 parents, for aught I know, of his love; in his eyes appeared 
 "the moist impediments unto his speech," and he went in- 
 stantly to the colonel, to make use of the repeated offer to 
 leave the armv. 
 
 27 
 
( 210 ) 
 
 To the last cause, which I have mentioned as producing 
 home-sickness, vve must likewise refer the peculiar predilec- 
 tion some people have for their profession, though it offer 
 not half the comfort, which others derive from their occupa- 
 tions. The enthusiasm with which an individual speaks of his 
 trade does not depend upon his success or the enjoyment he 
 finds in it. The richest merchant is generally the most disin- 
 clined to let his children follow the same pursuit. But the 
 sailor talks with pleasure of his profession, and in his pride 
 feels himself somewhat better than the rest of mankind.* 
 The German miner, who leads the most toilsome life, and 
 is more scantily rewarded than any other laborer, speaks 
 with a kind of enthusiasm of his pursuit. He loves it, be- 
 cause it is totally different from any thing else. The life of 
 a German wagoner should certainly be considered a stupid 
 and dreary one. To walk slo-wly, step by step, by the side 
 of a team, day after day; continually to travel over the same 
 route, say from the Rhine to Leipsig and from Leipsig to 
 the Rhine, on which he knows every inn-keeper's face, and 
 every rise and descent of the road, cannot be believed to 
 have many attractions. Yet, he speaks with delight of his 
 trade, which, to every one else, seems strongly to partake 
 of the lobster-like. In one of my pedestrian journeys I 
 met with a train of heavily laden wagons, proceeding to 
 Leipsig, shortly before the fair. I entered into a conversa- 
 tion with the oldest of the wagoners, who, in informing me 
 
 • We visited once a man-of-war and found several colored men among 
 the sailors. "Do the white and colored sailors agree well together?" we 
 asked; ''and does not the difference of color interfere with that uniform and 
 quick working, on which the safety of the vessel so much depends?" 
 "They perfectly agree," was the answer of the officer; "we let the 
 colored dine in separate messes, but the white sailors would not have tlie 
 slightest objection against being in the same mess with their colored fellows." 
 The fact is, that a sailor considers his profession so distinct from any other 
 human pursuit, that even color, so powerful a cause of distinction among 
 all the rest of mankind, does not outweigh, with him, the distinction which 
 his pride induces him to make between sailor and non-sailor.— Editor. 
 
( 211 ) 
 
 of his course of life, told me of the several diseases to which 
 he was subject, and mentioned that he had remained at home 
 for some time in consequence of sickness. As these men 
 are generally wealthy, I evinced my astonishment that he 
 again exposed himself to the inclemency of the weather, as 
 his state of health seemed to warrant no such exposure. 
 " Ah," said the old man, jogging along on his crooked 
 legs, '• a wagoner cannot remain at home; we love our pro- 
 fession." 
 
 The third kind of home-sickness proceeds from a source 
 directly opposite to those I have indicated. It besets the 
 heart of a refined and carefully cultivated mind, of a soul 
 endowed with generous feelings — of a man, whose mental 
 existence is closely connected with the science, art, and 
 choicest social intercourse of his country. 
 
 I have spoken above of the Catholicism of civilization, and, 
 in certain respects, this expression finds no more ready ap- 
 plication than with a man who is familiar with the best so- 
 ciety, and has a truly cultivated mind. Let a well-educated 
 Russian or Swede land in New York and proceed forth- 
 with to an assembled company, and, provided he know the 
 language, he will feel, in a degree, at home. The same ge- 
 neral sentiments and views prevail, the same forms of social 
 intercourse are observed. But this holds only as far as it 
 goes. 
 
 A man who has enjoyed the intellectual intercourse of 
 his country, who has entered into the most delicate feelings 
 and productions of the flower of its society, by which, you 
 may well imagine, I do not mean fashionable society, who 
 has, perhaps, himself taken an active part in its political life 
 or its literature; a man who feels that his mind is not en- 
 tirely barren, and experiences that internal necessity of 
 communing with others, and of being understood — a man 
 who does not only love his country, because early associa- 
 tions have endeared it to him, but who has been wedded to 
 it in mind and soul, such a man cannot forget it — cannot be 
 divorced from it. He may frankly join in with hi.<< adopted 
 
( 212 ) 
 
 country and become its loyal citizen. Many foreigners by birt 
 have, at all times, proved most devoted citizens of the land 
 of their adoption. They may, if emergencies arise, willing- 
 ly offer their blood and life for their new country, and, what 
 is far more difficult, live for their country, with undivided de- 
 votion; and yet they feel that they are a reed broken by the 
 wind. They may learn the idiom of their new and beloved 
 home, so that they may speak fluently in common inter- 
 course, and fairly even upon public occasions; they may ac- 
 quire the skill of writing it well, in som'e degree, if they 
 treat of subjects in a certain sphere — and yet they will feel 
 the leaden weight of a foreign language weighing heavily on 
 their tongue, when they come to utter that which is dearest 
 to their hearts, and which makes its chords vibrate most 
 thrillingly. A foreigner, such as I have mentioned, may ac- 
 custom himself to a foreign climate and foreign people; he 
 may win friends among them as dear as any he has at home, 
 for whom his heart would yearn, should he be separated from 
 them; he may be gay and feel well with them; and yet there 
 will remain a soreness in his heart, which nothing on earth 
 can heal. As the pious Mussulman turns, in his prayer, to- 
 ward the sacred city, wherever he may be, so is the inward 
 eye of an exile steadily turned to his country. The light- 
 ning can change the needle, and cause it to deviate from its 
 true direction; but no power can change the magnet of his 
 heart or cause it to turn from its true point; it will fixedly 
 show to his country. Ye, who have the power, exile not! 
 An exiled man is a sick man. As the face of the sunflower 
 follows the life-imparting beams of the heavens from east to 
 west, and when it cannot imbibe any longer the rays of the 
 glorious orb, droops its head, so follows the eye of an exile 
 the light of his country. 
 
 And with him it is that hospitality finds its true valuation. 
 Not the hospitality of common good-breeding, or of vanity, 
 but the hospitality of genuine feeling, which makes him feel 
 more at home, and says to him, " Come and be one of us;" 
 which writes on the tablet of his mind, " Good men feel 
 
( 213 ) 
 
 alike every where; there is a church-universal of generous 
 feeling and true kindness." 
 
 I believe I have descanted already, in a former letter, on 
 the great advantage which accrues to all parties, if the Ger- 
 mans, who come to this country, assimilate with the predo- 
 minating race. I repeat it — they are a valuable addition to 
 our population, if they mix. But let truth prevail every 
 where: twisting of facts, and stating or being silent accord- 
 ing to convenience, is an unmanly thing — unworthy of a 
 lover of his species, and a man who thinks he has expanded 
 his views by travelling into other countries, and by studying 
 history back into other ages. It is painful, indeed, for a Ger- 
 man, that the descendants of his nation in this country, where 
 they live closely together, have not only done less for the com- 
 mon education of their offspring than their neighbors, but 
 have actually often frustrated the endeavors of government 
 to establish a system of general education.* How a scion of 
 a people, who have done more for education than any other 
 on earth, comes thus to neglect one of the most sacred du- 
 ties, would be inexplicable, were it not for the fact, on which 
 I think I have touched on a former occasion, that it is dif- 
 ficult for a community, severed from the mother country, 
 and separated from a surrounding population by the barrier 
 of a different language, to prevent mental stagnation. There 
 lies upon all well educated men, who enjoy the confidence 
 of those hardy and well-meaning people, especially upon 
 the German clergy in Pennsylvania, a duty, superior to 
 which I can conceive of none in the whole sphere of their 
 activity; namely, to enlighten the Germans of America 
 with regard to this subject of all-absorbing importance. 
 They are the few who might produce a change of things, 
 
 • We say with the author, let truth prevail; thus only can evils be correct- 
 ed. It has been stated, that the act lately passed by the legislature of Penn- 
 sylvania, providing^ for the education of the poor and of the children of peo- 
 ple not favorably circumstanced, is far from meeting- with ready and cheerful 
 support from the German population of that state. Even obstacles are 
 thrown in the way of this salutary law. — Epitoh. 
 
- ( 214 ) 
 
 conducive to the most salutary effects, and from them it will 
 be asked at a future day. 
 
 The German, the boldest of all in science and knowledge, 
 is slow when it comes to acting; I mean the German who 
 has not left his country, where, by its peculiar state of po- 
 litics, brisk practical activity is so much cramped in its ope- 
 ration. When he sees other countries, and has free inter- 
 course with their inhabitants, he generally finds his way 
 uncommonly well: for though the German has, as things 
 now stand, originally not much of a practical disposition, 
 his versatility of mind is very great; which is proved as 
 much by the truly noble height of criticism to which Ger- 
 man science elevates itself, — because it requires his entering 
 into all the views of other nations and ages, — as by the suc- 
 cess with which the German meets in all climes and under 
 all forms of government. A Frenchman shifts easier than 
 a German, but his mind has not that degree of versatility to 
 enable him to persevere in a totally new situation. A Yan- 
 kee is bolder and shrewder than a German, and will often 
 succeed where few others may hope for success; but he is 
 not willing to labor as hard and plod as perseveringly, — nor 
 has he that knowledge of languages which the German ge- 
 nerally possesses. The German in foreign countries, if a 
 man of business, labors always under one great disadvantage; 
 he is not backed and supported by a political nationality. 
 
 Germans and French change, perhaps more to their ad- 
 vantage, by travelling and collecting experience in foreign 
 countries, than any other people; the foi^mei:, .by obtaining 
 more practical views of things and learning to keep their 
 diffusive thinking more within definite limits, the latter, by 
 becoming more liberal, more reflective, by expanding their 
 views beyond national vanity. However, who does not or 
 ought not to improve in the latter way by travelling? Cer- 
 tainly, neither John nor Jonathan is here excepted. Gothe 
 says, " He who is ignorant of foreign languages is ignorant 
 of his own." Add, He who is ignorant of foreign countries 
 is ignorant of his own. 
 
( ^15 ) 
 
 But let me tell you an anecdote, which, if true, and I have 
 reason to believe it is, is illustrative of the slowness with 
 which, at times, the German moves in matters of a practical 
 character, at home — not abroad: for who is the first banquier 
 in London, the first tailor, the first cutler? They are or 
 were, for a long time, Germans. I had often heard from 
 German merchants, residing in this country, how difficult 
 it is to get German articles of commerce changed, with the 
 corresponding changing of the market; while the English 
 manufacturer will, with the greatest ease, comprehend the 
 nature of the change required, and readily make it. In- 
 stances have been given to me at various times, but the fol- 
 lowing seemed to me very peculiar. I was desirous of 
 buying an "architectural box," (a plaything well calculated 
 for the amusing and instructive occupation of a child's mind,) 
 and proceeded, for the purpose, to one of the German toy- 
 shops in New York. I suppose you know the fact, that 
 German toys to a great amount, considering the little value 
 of this merchandise, are imported into the United States. 
 
 No other nation makes so many and variegated toys as 
 the Germans, which, I believe, is, in part, owing to their na- 
 tional trait of bonhomie. They condescend, with a kind- 
 er disposition, to the level of a child, and, on the other hand, 
 their children are longer disposed to play, which, by the 
 way, I have seen, not unfrequently, carried to an extreme. 
 I have been in German families where girls, of an age which, 
 in a tropical country, would fit them for marriage, still amused 
 themselves by playing with dolls, exquisitely made, indeed, 
 and provided with all possible dress and linen, with little 
 rooms, kitchen, and every kind of household furniture, — 
 dolls so large, apparel so perfect that a stranger might be at 
 a loss to discover whether it was play or good earnest. 
 Their parents, instead of checking this disposition, encou- 
 rage it, thinking to promote thereby a child-like temper. 
 In this country, on the other hand, girls oftentimes step 
 much too early out of the circle of childhood, and take to 
 
( 216 ) 
 
 themselves the manners of women, before they can properly 
 be called young ladies. 
 
 In Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and in all 
 the large cities of the Union, the traveller meets with Ger- 
 man toy-shops, and I have often conversed with their owners, 
 generally Germans themselves, as to what kind of playthings 
 sells best, and what difference there exists between those 
 sold here and in Germany. As I am speaking of German 
 toys, you may allow me to add a few lines on this subject. 
 On one of these occasions, I found a box with those little 
 Johnny-jump-ups, made of the pith of elder, cut, painted, 
 and a little gilded, of which four dozen cost here twenty- 
 five cents! One large box contained sheep, cows, soldiers, 
 men, and women, all pretty well made, consisting of different 
 pieces, and painted. The retail price here is a cent for two 
 of these creatures. Toys of this kind pay thirty-three per 
 cent, duty in the United States, then the freight by sea, 
 which is not small, in proportion to the value, as it is paid 
 according to bulk, then the commission in Bremen, the 
 freight, by land, from the interior of Germany, say Coburg 
 or Sonnenberg, to Bremen; then the profit which the Coburg 
 merchant takes; reckon all this up, and tell me how much 
 remains for the poor manufacturer in the Franconian Forest, 
 who has no machine, works neither by steam, wheel, wind, 
 or water, but every particle by his, or his wife and chil- 
 dren's hands. It grieves one's heart to see things sold so 
 cheaply, whose manufacturers lead a wretched life upon rye 
 and potatoes. All the expenses, with freight and duty, 
 amount certainly to sixty per cent, and yet there are Ger- 
 man lead-pencils, of a very fair quality, sold here for six 
 cents a dozen. Poor wretched beings! 
 
 It was strange to me when I entered, for the first time, 
 in Philadelphia, a toy-shop, in the time of Advent, and 
 found there, ranged on the scaffolds rising on both sides of 
 the shop, all the companions of my earliest youth, the show- 
 cases, never to be forgotten, with their old Nuremberg prints, 
 
( 217 ) 
 
 Versailles garden with ladies in hoops and gentlemen cha- 
 teau has; '■^Prospectus majoris deambulatorii horli Vaiix- 
 hall ah Introilu,^^ as well as other fine " prospects," the 
 plates of which must be, at least, eighty years old ; or the 
 chickens, women, and stags I had seen on our Christmas 
 fairs, but which were considered beneath the desire of pos- 
 session. The same little pewter plates, the same stiff wo- 
 man of wood, which was already in my childhood an appa- 
 rition of former ages, the same watches, and little windmills, 
 and rope-dancers are here to be found, and are sent far into 
 the interior. 
 
 But here I am inserting stories into stories, following the 
 truly inverted style of Sheharazade! I must return to my 
 shopkeeper. When I asked him whether he imported a 
 great deal, he said, "Considerable; but it might be much 
 more, did our countrymen more easily depart from their old 
 fashions, and send according to order. Look here, sir," he 
 continued, " I import, from the interior of Germany, a 
 great many of the little paste-board boxes, chiefly used by 
 apothecaries. The Germans make them round or square, 
 but, somehow or other, they prefer here oval ones. If the 
 consumer wants oval boxes, I have to order them; if I order 
 them, the manufacturer, you will say, has only to make 
 them; but no: I gave an order for several hundred dollars' 
 worth of these boxes, and received an answer, couched in a 
 tremendously long letter, that they had no irons to make 
 the boxes oval." An Englishman would have made them of 
 the shape of a flamingo's beak, did he think it at all worth 
 the while to make the thing. Americans are equally ac- 
 commodating when it is to their profit to be so; but, as labor 
 is very high with the latter, their manufacturers are seldom 
 obliged to change as quickly or as often, according to the 
 wish of the consumer, as the English manufacturer is. 
 
 Now for a counter-anecdote. In the year 1830, a gentle- 
 man of New York* visited the faithful brotherhood on the 
 
 • Professor M'Vickar of Columbia College in New York. — Editor. 
 
 28 
 
( 31S ) 
 
 highest inhabited summit of Europe, too high for any plant 
 to grow except the lovely rose of charity. He narrowly 
 escaped from a snow-storm, and enjoyed the fire of the 
 scanty fagots, which, at that time, the pious inmates of the 
 hospitium had to fetch at the distance of five toilsome 
 leagues — not for their own benefit, but for the many 
 thousand travellers who pass over the high ridge which se- 
 vers Italy from Germany, by way of the St. Bernard, and 
 find rest and often life itself at their charitable hands. Those, 
 who live only for the comfort and safety of others, had for 
 themselves but the bare stone walls and naked ground of 
 their rooms, without either fire or furniture. The Ameri- 
 can gentleman went to discover, if possible, anthracite coal; 
 and, after he had happily found it, he taught the monks to 
 build a grate, necessary for the use of this species of fuel. 
 But, though the trial was not unsuccessful, he obtained, with 
 the assistance of several other persons, on his return to New 
 York in 1833, a stove for anthracite coal, on the improved 
 plan of Dr. Nott, and sent it to the brethren of St. Augus- 
 tine. The bill for the stove and of the expenses of trans- 
 port from Havre to Martigny, amounted to fifty eight dol- 
 lars, the stove having been carried from New York to Havre 
 free of expense. And, for this low sum, a monument of 
 American practical sense has been erected in a distant 
 country seven thousand feet above the level of the sea, op- 
 posite to the statue of the sinking and dying Dessaix, and 
 will be blessed by many a thankful and exhausted traveller 
 in years to come. The clarendier, or superior of the hos- 
 pitium, thanked its transatlantic benefactor in glowing terms 
 for this kind present, assuring him that " the joy of the bre- 
 thren knew no bounds;" and I will leave it to you, to depict 
 to yourself the many cheering scenes of which this blessed 
 stove will yet be the cause, when a husband arrives with 
 his half-frozen wife, a father with a child nearly dead, or 
 when a body, discovered by the never-weary and intelligent 
 maron* is revived by the generous heat of the American 
 
 • Maron is the name of the large dogs, which are the f^thful assistants of 
 
( 219 ) 
 
 stove; while it is a contemplation not the less gladdening, 
 that the good brethren, surrounded by eternal and hard 
 frozen snow, sparkling as if in mockery of fire, and yet 
 morally elevated as high above the common toil for gain as 
 they are physically above the peaceless world, may now also 
 warm themselves without the fear of consuming fuel, which 
 their piety had destined for travellers alone. I will try to 
 get for you the New York American of July 8, 1833, in 
 which several letters of Canon Barras, the clarendier of the 
 hospitium, and the details of this affair are given; because 
 I know you like, with me, to watch the pulsations of extend- 
 ing civilization, and to preserve the documents which testify 
 to its internal and quiet, yet ever active life. 
 
 The following may, perhaps, serve as another instance of 
 the American practical turn of mind. I found, one day, in 
 a street in Boston, a turtle walking with the step which Ci- 
 cero recommends to philosophers, before the door of a re- 
 staurant, with the words, "To-morrow Soup" written on 
 the back of the poor creature, which thus was doomed to 
 invite man's all-exploring appetite to partake of its own flesh. 
 When I stood there and looked at the victim incased and pro- 
 tected by nature against all enemies except the knife of the in- 
 exorable cook, as it carried its irrevocable sentence about with 
 it, in the moment, when, probably, it felt as if liberty had 
 been restored to it, after its long and uncomfortable position 
 on the back, and when I thought to observe with some pass- 
 ers by, whose attention had been attracted like mine, a slight 
 twitching of the corners of the mouth, indicating that the 
 laconic appeal to their palate had not been made in vain — I 
 do not know why, but I could not help thinking of Frede- 
 ric the Great and Catherine-le-Grand, as Prince de Ligne 
 calls her, bent, with a look betraying but too clearly their 
 keen appetite, over poor Poland, which they made to crawl 
 about before them, also with her sentence on her back, be- 
 fore they partitioned her out in very palatable dishes. 
 
 these brothers of St. Augustine. Maronier is the name of the monk, who 
 has particular charge of the dogs. — Editoh. 
 
( 220 ) 
 
 A Frenchman, in the same case, would have invited to 
 his turtle-soup by various persuasive means; the taciturn 
 Yankee put an inscription, in lapidary style, upon the 
 intended victim itself, making it prove, in the most con- 
 vincing manner possible, its freshness and fine size. 
 
 Reverting from the Nott stove and turtle to my general 
 remark, I will only add, that as the Germans are often un- 
 pliant in practical life, but bold, universal, and agile, in sci- 
 ence, so are the Americans and English of quick percep- 
 tion in practical matters, slow, timid, and comparatively con- 
 fined in science. A book once an authority with them, re- 
 mains such for an eternity; a subject, once fairly investi- 
 gated, according to the means and knowledge of the time, 
 remains untouched for many, many years. 
 
 Whatever is the element of a nation or an individual, is 
 done by them with ease; in whatever they are truly at 
 home, they proceed business-like. An English library 
 is beautiful, but look at the rough book-shelves of a Ger- 
 man savant; you see, at once, his library is collected for 
 use; he is at home with his books. On the other hand, the 
 members of parliament or congress sit with their hats on, 
 are dressed in the common way, and speak from their places, 
 while the French depute is dressed in a robe, and " pro- 
 nounces," formally, a discours from the tribune, and can- 
 not speak when he chances to be without his robe. Form 
 loses in importance the more the essence is esteemed. Fre- 
 deric the Great wore a shabby coat, and often boots, which 
 every one else in his kingdom would have considered worn 
 out, and Omar had but " one bowl, one garment, and one 
 God." 
 
 As to books, a conceited German might say, that, while 
 other nations contrived to improve the paper, his country- 
 men endeavored to improve the contents. However, I am 
 no advocate of badly executed books, in which the light- 
 inked letters, variegated by " monks " and " friars," and the 
 darkness of the paper, seem to meet each other in mutual 
 love, each yielding part of their true character, and should 
 
( 221 ) 
 
 you ever come to the perfidious conclusion to inflict my let- 
 ters on the public, in which case, at all events, you will al- 
 low me to appear en embozo* I enter here my most solemn 
 protest against my appearance on German paper, dim, like 
 the dusk of morn, or on American paper, bulky, and flaccid, 
 (to puff" up a book, in truth,) and white, but so bleached 
 by acids that an attentive reader has to take care, lest 
 his very looks should read the leaves asunder. 1 love — 
 call me whimsical, I cannot help it — the yellow paper of 
 old books. Paper can be too white; it ought to have a mild, 
 yellow tinge, which is much more beneficial to the eyes 
 than glaring white. 
 
 * The Spaniard walks en embozo or embozado, when he throws his mantle 
 over one of the shoulders, in a manner that his face is covered up to the 
 eyes, and presses his broad-brimmed hat deep into the brows, so that, in 
 fact, nothing but his eyes are seen, and these even indistinctly. — Editor. 
 
( 222 ) 
 
 LETTER XIII. 
 
 Names are always an interesting subject, if you have no- 
 thing better to occupy your reflection or inquiry. Every tra- 
 veller finds it an amusing manner of whiling away the time, 
 when detained in a place, to loiter about and read the names 
 on the doors and house-signs. It is very natural; I do not 
 say, that the name is the whole man, as Buffon said, le style 
 est tout Phomme; but a name is so closely connected with 
 the individual, as long as he bears it, that, however wide 
 the difference between persons or places and the mean- 
 ing of their names, may be in numberless cases, we cannot 
 help considering them with some interest. Besides, their 
 beauty or quaintness, their meaning or etymology, or histo- 
 rical signification,- afibrd often entertaining or instructive 
 subjects for reflection. In a young country, like ours, where 
 the arbitrary choice of the namer has not been covered over 
 by lubricating time, this interest is increased in a variety of 
 ways, by names of persons, vessels, taverns, streets, places, 
 counties and states. Often has some name or other formed 
 the thread of many reflections in my mind, when I was 
 sitting in a stage-coach or on the deck of a canal-boat, and no 
 general conversation attracted my attention. Sometimes, it 
 is the fine sound or portentous meaning of a name which 
 occupied me, sometimes its peculiar fitness for the place it 
 designated, at others, its direct contrast, sometimes its inef- 
 fable silliness, at others, again, its philological interest. 
 
( 223 ) 
 
 I had now arrived, in the course of my journey, in that 
 country, which might be called, by way of excellence, the 
 Land of Silly Names, though I own they are abundant all 
 over this country, especially in the eastern and western 
 parts, and not unfrequent wherever it was necessary to in- 
 vent names for places. The French names adopted by the 
 great Frederic, such as Monbijou, Sanssouci, &c. — in a Ger- 
 man country — did not show, I think, much tact on his part; 
 yet they were infinitely better than hundreds in this coun- 
 try, in some parts of which a traveller might think that his- 
 tory and geography had been chopped into small pieces, 
 well shaken in a bag, and then strewn over a state. You 
 have already met with the long lists of such names as Ho- 
 mer, Manlius, Paris, Paradise, Montezuma, Rome, Demos- 
 thenes, Ithaca, Ovid, Cicero, Syracuse, Ulysses, Lodi, Eden, 
 Hamburg, Aurora, Alexandria, Scio, Bolivar, Palmyra, Par- 
 ma, Greece, Russia, Egypt, mixed up with downright Eng- 
 lish names, such as Bath, Perry, Thompson, Greenfield, 
 Newfield, Rochester, Pembroke, together with fine-sound- 
 ing, or, at any rate, appropriate Indian names, as Canan- 
 daigua, Cayuga, Seneca, Saratoga, Cayuta, Genesee — in the 
 same country with names as flat as Temperance and TarifF- 
 ville — the whole appearing like a most indigestible minced 
 pie. Oh, these historiomastices!* These are not " picked 
 names," but taken, at random, from memory and a map; I 
 might continue the list for whole pages, as you will con- 
 vince yourself by looking at the accompanying map, which 
 I send you not, however, for the sake of tracing our taste- 
 lessness in these absurd appellations, but, because it contains 
 all the canals and rail-roads, finished or making, in this ra- 
 pidly rising state of New York. 
 
 Nearly every author, foreigner or native, who has tra- 
 velled in the United States, has animadverted upon this ludi- 
 crous naming of places; and I hold it to be the duty of every 
 
 •j- The author seems to have formed this word after tlic Greek Homero- 
 mastix, (scourge of Homer,) the unenviable surname of ZoiJus, bestowed 
 upon him for his hypercriticisms on the works of Homer. — Editor. 
 
( 224 ) 
 
 man who touches upon this subject continually to renew the 
 attack against this barbarous habit. I have often conversed 
 with Americans on this topic, both seriously and jocularly, 
 and always found that they were of my opinion; or, if they 
 were of the less educated classes, and had, perhaps, hardly 
 ever before thought on the name of their birth-place, that 
 they easily yielded to my arguments or jokes, with that 
 good-naturedness which I find so prominent a trait of the 
 American. 
 
 You may little expect to hear an assertion of this kind, 
 after having read so many charges to the contrary; yet I must 
 be permitted to state, that I consider the American emi- 
 nently good-natured and disposed to allow any one to speak 
 with perfect freedom of America and her institutions. Of 
 such a thing as taking amiss, as it is termed, they hardly 
 know. That those of them who have seen little of the world 
 are often conceited in regard to their country, is natural; 
 every villager, all over the world, thinks his steeple the high- 
 est, and assures you that the bottom of his pond has never 
 been found yet. But even such as these, among the Ame- 
 ricans, will allow you freely to make your remarks upon 
 their country, laugh heartily with you, and never get an- 
 ory on account of your free remarks. I have found this so 
 constantly and in so striking instances, that I do not hesi- 
 tate to state it as a fact. If a man in the west asks you, 
 How do you like our country? or a Bostonian, Don't you 
 think, after all, our climate very fine? you must not forget 
 that, perhaps, the remark is made from a kind disposition, 
 and that, in this, as in all similar cases, it is but one that 
 bothers you, while a hundred others remain silent, and you 
 remember only the one who may have troubled you, if 
 you are so sensitive as to call this troubling. It is certain- 
 ly a fact worth notice, that the severest books against the 
 United States sell rapidly and often run through several edi- 
 tions, and when I once conversed with one of the first pub- 
 lishers as to a work on the United States, he said, "Any one 
 who writes on this country ought to know that the severer 
 
( 225 ) 
 
 he is the better his book will sell; I am convinced of this 
 fact by repeated experience," which is no encouraging pro- 
 spect for all those who wish to say what they think and 
 know that eagles soar high, and geese cackle loud all over 
 the world. 
 
 That this good-natured equanimity of the Americans may 
 be somewhat disturbed when a gentleman travels tout le 
 temps en maitre d'ecole, all the time pronouncing his opi- 
 nion ex cathedra, finding fault and ridiculing, might be 
 supposed, though I have, even then, seen the Americans, 
 almost without exception, pertinaciously good-natured. You 
 may object that, if all this be as I say, why did they 
 show themselves some time ago so irritable, when at- 
 tacked upon certain points? Because a most powerful 
 slander-engine had been directed against them from some 
 quarters in England, when they were yet quite young, and 
 had their character as a nation to establish; and because one 
 kind of slander was continually thrown at them, which no 
 one takes in joke, and which the rudest and most vulgar 
 fellow in the street throws into the beard of his adversary, 
 when he wishes most deeply to hurt him — an attack on the 
 reputation of their parents. A man who can calmly listen 
 to almost any charge, finds it difficult to keep quiet if his 
 parents are attacked. Such parents, too, as the forefathers 
 of the Americans were. It must be owned that whatever 
 latitude may be allowed to party attacks and exciting lan- 
 guage in time of war, it was a most ungenerous and fiend- 
 ish charge, so often repeated in former times, — ay, so 
 often that even to this present time thoughtless writers 
 and public journals, repeat it, that the Americans descend 
 from a parcel of criminals; while those who preferred this 
 charge knew full well that never were colonists of any 
 nation of better character sent out to any foreign country, 
 than those earliest settlers of New England: that, however 
 our views may difier from many of theirs, they were as 
 honorable men as can j^ossibly be found, and that the tot^I 
 number of criminals ever sent to this country, amount^ 
 
( 226 ) 
 
 to an exceedingly snaall number, which, besides, had it been 
 much larger, could not have been able to alter any thing in 
 the essential features of the people. Moreover, if there be 
 5uch a thing as hereditary sin, there is also such a one as 
 hereditary virtue, and every babe is ushered into this world 
 as a being to stand on its own feet. But all irritability of 
 this kind has worn away by this time, and I believe you 
 might tell the Americans, that all their fathers were Burkes 
 and their mothers Gottfrieds, and they would only say, "Ah, 
 indeed?" However, since English writers have chanced to 
 pretend that the Americans descend from a set of ragamuf- 
 fins, thrown out by their country, and as that which has been 
 said cannot be unsaid, it would seem that some British coun- 
 ties honestly endeavor to make now, at least, as much as is 
 in their power, true, what was untrue so far, and send us 
 paupers, cargo after cargo, who, in many cases, walk di- 
 rectly from the vessel to the almshouse. Nothing like con- 
 sistency! Some late reports of committees appointed by 
 the city authorities of Boston and New York, for the special 
 purpose of inquiring into the matter, exhibit a frightful pic- 
 ture, with regard to the influx of paupers, and, of course — as 
 frail human nature is constituted — of vagrancy and crime, 
 likewise, into this country. While they pour in through 
 the sea-ports, the number who emigrate from Canada and 
 New Brunswick inta the United States, by land, is equally 
 frightful. And sorry I was, indeed, when, sx^me years ago, 
 the sovereign authority of a German city sent actual con- 
 victs to our shores. They had heard, probably, of our ex- 
 cellent penitentiaries, and found themselves bound, in Chris- 
 tian charity, to procure far their criminals as good prisons as 
 possible, for that they would here, in course of time, find 
 their way to the prison again, was evident. If a govern- 
 ment wants criminals, as, some years ago, that of Brazil did, 
 it is quite fair to empty the prisons; if a single individual 
 rashly resolves upon such an act as the above transportation 
 of criminals was, it is possible, at least, to understand it, 
 but how a measure of this kind can be concerted between 
 
( 227 ) 
 
 several persons, who are all, in the whole, honorable men, 
 how they can pass over the act of making such an outrage 
 an official measure, without compunctions — is something I 
 cannot understand. So much for human morality without 
 the pale of shame; distance of time and place gives us very 
 different views respecting our actions, and the merchant who 
 would not dream of deceiving at home, makes regular prepa- 
 ration to cheat the distant and sable cultivator of the pepper. 
 Now, then, again the lance is couched for an attack upon 
 the' names met with in this country.^— I am perfectly well 
 aware that the difficulty of giving names in the United States 
 is often exceedingly great. You remember, undoubtedly, 
 scenes in the families of your friends, which show that Mr. 
 Shandy was not the only person puzzled at what name he 
 should choose from the endless number before him. It is 
 always a difficult matter to decide when there are no distinct 
 rules to direct our choice, and we are at liberty to select 
 among a great number of objects. If parents are puzzled at 
 the choice of one name, what shall an official secretary of 
 one of the United States do, before whom lies a list of a large 
 number of newly surveyed townships to be christened by 
 him? He takes a six cents geography, a twent3--five cents 
 history, peradventure, and chalks off the names of the in- 
 dex. Or a committee is appointed to name the places; 
 each member writes down a name: they are put into a hat, 
 and the lot is drawn. It was tlnis that the charming city 
 of Utica came to its inappropriate name. Or, to take ano- 
 ther instance, a surveyor has laid out townships or counties, 
 and fixes names to the list, as a circumnavigator names what 
 he discovers; thus you may find on every large map Gene- 
 ral Jackson's whole first cabinet sticking in the north-west- 
 ern territory, a geographical immortality long surviving the 
 personal one. However, perhaps, after all, this is not so 
 very improper a way to make names; a poor fellow may, in 
 this way, learn history from maps, and acquire the spelling 
 of names which he might not have learned otherwise. I re- 
 member a countv, I think I know of two or three, in dif- 
 
( 228 ) 
 
 ferent states, called after several distinguished politicians, 
 which petitioned their respective legislatures to change their 
 names, when the counties' politics had changed. It seems 
 to me the most advisable way for such counties would be to 
 adopt, at once, two, or three, or four different names, to be 
 used according to emergencies and the changes of political 
 winds. It would sound exceedingly dignified were a news- 
 paper article to begin thus, Jackson county, alias Adams 
 county, alias Crawford county, &c. 
 
 Sometimes, — to continue my account of the method of 
 " calling names," — a hunter goes out, finds a creek and per- 
 haps a pair of yellow breeches, and immediately it will be 
 called Yellow Breeches River; or a crow happens to fly 
 over some lake, it is henceforth Crow Lake. Unfortunate- 
 ly these names are not now, as in earlier days, allowed to 
 corrupt and gradually to ^e/Zer their condition as nouns pro- 
 per; for names of this kind were given then, as well as 
 now; but, in most instances, they gradually changed. Sai- 
 lors, who, in more than one respect, represent nations or 
 tribes in their early stages, as to their frankness, their im- 
 providence, their readiness to assist and their readiness to 
 avenge, have also retained this quickness and boldness of 
 corrupting names and accommodating them to a pronuncia- 
 tion easier for them, and more suited to the spirit of their 
 language; the English and American sailor perhaps more 
 so than the mariner of any other nation. 
 
 Mr. Walsh, in his Notices of Brazil, gives several in- 
 stances. Thus, for instance, a collection of rocky islets 
 near Madeira is called the Deserters, fi'om the Portuguese 
 Ilhas Desertas, (Desert Islands;) the Yejii Hissari or New 
 Castles, at the entrance of the Dardanelles, is made Cape Ja- 
 nissary , and is thus to be found on the maps. The Jlrchi- 
 pelago is called the torches; Coriina is changed to the 
 Groin. A goodly number might be added to these: let me 
 mention but a few. Setubal in Portusral is changed into 
 Si. Ubes; and I am convinced, that, had this corruption 
 taken place, or become known at an early time, v.'hen cano- 
 
( 229 ) 
 
 nizations were not yet controlled by the church, a saint 
 called Ubes, with an appropriate legend, would have come 
 down to us; in the same way as some Greek words on the 
 frontispiece of churches, were taken for the names of mar- 
 tyrs, to whom these buildings were believed to have been 
 dedicated, and thus actually led to the invention of some 
 saints. Ilha Raza is changed into Razor Island. 
 
 The Spanish cayo, a cliff or breaker, has been changed 
 by the English mariner into key, of which there are many 
 in the West Indies; but one of the strangest corruptions is 
 our Key IFesl, from the Spanish Cayo Hueso or Bone 
 Isle, because the form of the island resembles somewhat 
 a bone; yet Key West is now the official and legitimate 
 name, though it has nothing more to do with west than 
 with east, north or south. The soldiers of the allied armies, 
 when occupying France during the last war, were equally 
 ready to accommodate names to their organs of pronuncia- 
 tion; and the highest instance of corruption of this kind on 
 record, I believe to be afforded in the ease of Napoleon 
 himself. Oldeleben, who was a long time Saxon officier 
 d' ordonnance in the staff of the emperor, and has given an 
 interesting work on the French campaign in Saxony in the 
 year 1813, informs us that Napoleon, who had, of course, to 
 pronounce a number of foreign names of persons about 
 him, did not always find them sufficiently easy for his pro- 
 nunciation; nor could the ruler over so many empires be 
 fairly expected to trouble himself much with hard names 
 which it was difficult for his mind, otherwise so retentive, 
 to remember, and his lips to utter. He, therefore, pro- 
 nounced these names as his mouth found comfortable, and 
 the person went ever after by this appellation, which it was 
 necessary, though oftentimes not very easy for his aides to 
 remember. Some names of German and Polisli places are 
 excessively difficult for the native of any other country to 
 pronounce, and Napoleon was obliged to deal with them in 
 a like wav. whicli required groat ntlention in his suite not 
 
( 230 ) • 
 
 to commit mistakes, which often might have led to serious 
 results. 
 
 But not only mariners and soldiers, but people of all oc- 
 cupations are apt to change names, if they are obliged often 
 to pronounce any ill-fitted for their organs of speech. Thus, 
 the French Riviere de Feves (Bean River) has become with 
 our population the Fever River, — a very bad name, as 
 every one who hears it, without being acquainted with its 
 etymology, will attach a hideous character to the innocent 
 stream, which is just as healthy or unhealthy as any of its 
 fellow waters in that part of the country. A spot in our 
 western territory was called Bois Brule, either literally 
 from " burned wood," or in memory of some Bois Brule, 
 the name for a descendant of French white, and Indian 
 blood. The present name is Bob Ruly. I mention these 
 facts that you may compare our western corruptions with 
 .similar changes in Europe during the great changes in the 
 middle ages. The name of nearly every existing Italian 
 place, which dates from antiquity, affords an instance. Arez- 
 zo from Arctium, Folingo from Fulginium, or take the Ger- 
 man Mailand from the Italian Milano frorn the ancient Me- 
 diolaTium. 
 
 Not only geographical names are subject to these curious 
 corruptions; they extend to the names of persons likewise. 
 Many instances are known to you from English history. I 
 will give you a few amusing ones of our country. That 
 the German Schneider, Klein, Schuhmacher, Schmidt, 
 Braun, quickly change into Snyder, Clyne or Klyne, Shoe- 
 maker, Smith and Brown, is natural enough. Sometimes 
 names are positively translated; thus, I know of a Mr. 
 Bridgebuilder whose ancestors came from Germany under 
 the name of Briickenbauer. I have met with many in- 
 stances of this kind. There is a family now in Pennsylva- 
 nia whose original name was Klein; at present they have 
 branched out into three chief ramifications called Klein, 
 Small, and Little; and, if they continue to have many little 
 
( 231 ) 
 
 ones, they may, for aught I know, branch fartlier out into 
 Short, Less, and Lesser, — down to the most Lilliputian 
 names. 
 
 I was once, in England, in company with a Mr. Short, in 
 whose presence a Mr. Shorter was mentioned. "Your son?" 
 said a bystander, quite gravely, to Mr. Short, who, like most 
 people, disrelished the joke on his name very much. 
 
 In Salem, Massachusetts, is now living a family of the 
 name of Blumpay, a corruption of Blancpied, their original 
 name. A German, called Feuerstein, (fire-stone, the Ger- 
 man for flint,) settled in the west, when French population 
 prevailed in that quarter. His name, therefore, was changed 
 into Pierre a Fusil; but, in the course of time, the Anglo- 
 American race became the prevalent one, and Pierre a Fu- 
 sil was again changed into Peter Gun. That is somewhat 
 like Albert the Great, which is believed by some to be cor- 
 rupted from Albert de Groot. At that rate, Lord King 
 might become the king our lord. Well, if Albert the Great 
 has obtained his splendid name by conniption, he is not the 
 only one in history who owes this surname to the same cause. 
 
 A barber in Boston, a most respectable man, and a great 
 friend of mine — a real Burchiello* — calls himself Ashton. 
 As he is a Sicilian, I asked him how he came to this name. 
 " My Italian name," said he, " is Astorini, but they told me 
 in Salem that Ashton is the English for Astorini." 
 
 One day I found him in a melancholy mood. '• What is 
 the matter with you?" asked I. " I am sorry," he replied, 
 " that I did not hang myself yesterday." Bravo, thought 
 I, a true fit of the melancholia anglica, as Sauvage so sa- 
 vagely calls suicide, in his work on insanity. " If this be all 
 your misfortune," I said, " you may easily redress it to- 
 day." — " That is just what I mourn for," he replied, "I 
 
 • Dominic Burchiello was the famous barber of Florence, in whose shop 
 all the beaux esprits of that favored place of the arts used to meet. He him- 
 self was a poet, and his shop is painted in one of the arches of the gallery of 
 the Medici. It is divided into two parts, in the one people are shaved, in the 
 other poets make poems or play instruments and sing. — EniroR. 
 
( 232 ) 
 
 wish to be dead, but I don't want to die." Burchiello jo- 
 cosely said, what many gravely think, — Another time, I 
 asked him how much he gets if he goes to a person into the 
 house to shave him. " A quarter of a dollar, or half a dol- 
 lar, according to circumstances, from those who can afford 
 it; from poor people I never take any thing, but then I don't 
 go to them." I could not help thinking of a letter written 
 to a friend of mine, by a gentleman who had been asked to 
 lend him a small capital for some enterprise, for fair inte- 
 rests. The letter expressed the highest indignation at the 
 offer of so high interests, as if its writer had ever shown any 
 symptoms of usury. " As to the capital itself," it conti- 
 nued, " it is utterly impossible for me to comply with your 
 wishes." 
 
 The drollest instance of the changing of names with which 
 I am acquainted, I have yet to tell you. I found it in an 
 article, which I know to have been written by one of the 
 first literary men in this country, and whom I feel proud in 
 knowing to be my friend, inserted in one of the numbers 
 of the North American Review, and will give it in the same 
 words: — "We happen to have heard, from a friend in the 
 Northern States, an authentic instance of this kind, which 
 we think will amuse our readers as much as it did ourselves 
 — ^the plain English Christian name and surname of Benja- 
 min Eaton, a Spanish boy, derived from his single Spanish 
 Christian name of Benito, or Benedict; and this, by a very 
 natural process, though one which would have defied the 
 acuteness of Tooke and the wit of Swift. When the boy 
 was taken on board ship, the sailors, who are not apt to be 
 fastidious in their attention to the niceties of language, hear- 
 ing him called Benito, (pronounced Beneeto,) made the 
 nearest approximation to the Spanish sound which the case 
 required, and which would give an intelligible sailor's name, 
 by saluting their new shipmate as Ben Eaton! which the 
 boy, probably, supposed was the corresponding English 
 name, and, accordingly, conformed to it himself, when asked 
 for his name. The next process in^the ct3miological trans- 
 
( 233 ) 
 
 formation was, that, when he was sent to one of our schools, 
 the master, of course, inquired his name, and being answered 
 that it was Beii Eaton, and presuming that to be his true 
 name abbreviated, as usual, in the familiar style, directed 
 him, as grammatical propriety required, to write it at full 
 length Benjamin Eaton!'''' 
 
 Quiner, as now written and pronounced, Coonyar, is a le- 
 gitimate corruption in orthography for the Portuguese Ciin- 
 ha, pronounced as above. The instance will show you at 
 the same time the strange sound the letter R has for English 
 ears. It ranks at the end of a word somewhat between a 
 vowel and a consonant, and whenever I have dictated a fo- 
 reign word ending in an e, softly pronounced, as the Ger- 
 man Freude, an Englishman would write down Freuder. 
 So children will say par for pa, the abbreviation of papa, 
 and it is a common vulgarity to say lor for lata, and saw- 
 ring wood for sawing wood. So much with regard to the 
 letter R. 
 
 " How does it happen that the more remote a part of the 
 United States, and the newer the names, the more classical 
 or rather unclassical they are?" — My dear friend, for the 
 same reason, that, some seventy years ago, every one in Si- 
 lesia was a rhymer because there was no poet among them. 
 Take it always as an infallible rule, that the more rhyming 
 you see in the newspapers, &:c., in a country or at a particu- 
 lar time, the more unpoetic are the people, as never more 
 cry and noise are made about the purity of a government 
 than when it is rotten and corrupt; and our attention is 
 often then only directed to a virtue or moral excellence, 
 when the contrary has first occupied our reflection, so much 
 so that many of the former have but a negative name. Guilt 
 was first thought of, and then innocence, which, in Ger- 
 man, also, is called Unschuld, literally unguilt, or guiltless- 
 ness. Take, for instance, the most rhyming periods of any 
 country, Germany, France, England, and observe whether 
 they ever have produced the great poets of the respective 
 nations, and in this country you can trace the truth of my 
 
 30 
 
( 234 ) 
 
 assertion in single papers. The less cultivated a community 
 is for which a certain paper is issued, the more it abounds 
 in rhymes and the more bombastic words the editor uses for 
 his verbose articles. Simplicity is both the child of early 
 limitedness and the flower of cultivation. 
 
 But some time or other these classical names must be ex- 
 hausted, and what are we to take then for a copy after which 
 we bestow names? The Olympus has not yet been suffi- 
 ciently plundered. We have Aurora, well, why not Jove- 
 Hill, Hebe-Bluff, Thesmophoros-Portage, Hyperion-Swamp, 
 Astraea-Pond.'' When we have ransacked all m3'thology, 
 Greek, Northern, and Hindoo, we may, by way of contrast, 
 and in order to suit our character, so essentially utilitarian, 
 descend at once to the useful. 
 
 Thus, we might have Rye, Wheat, Barley counties, and 
 Hops-borough; or we might take the animal body as the 
 foundation of our compounds, for instance. Nose-ridge, Up- 
 per-Jaw-borough, Kidney County, Liver-town, Mount Belly; 
 or we might take other useful things for our names and say, 
 Paper-city, Flax-ville, Gold-coin-county, or United-States- 
 bank-note-parish. It would not differ much from Mecha- 
 nicville or Tariffville in Northampton county, Massachusetts. 
 Why not take the names of favorite dishes for the forma- 
 ' tion of geographical nouns? Mush-ville would not be so 
 very bad, neither in sound nor association of ideas. Hasty- 
 pudding, Barbacue, and Squash would afford delightful 
 names; and to be born in the city of Bonny-clabber would 
 augur future distinction in poetry, and it would sound so 
 stately in a Latin epitaph, Poeta Boniclaboricus or Vates 
 Boniclaborensis. 
 
 The truth is, I am fully aware that it is not easy to find 
 a number of appropriate names for places, and of imbuing 
 the people at large with sufficient taste to make good choices 
 or produce good compounds. 
 
 The difficulty of selecting fit and decent appellations ap- 
 pears with all discoverers on land or sea. You can trace it in 
 almost every name given to a newl)'^ discovered group of 
 isles, mountains, lakes, &c. In New South Wales there is 
 
( 235 ) 
 
 a high mountain called Wellington, which, perhaps, is not 
 so bad, as the name was given when this great captain won 
 his fairest victories, and thus the appellation has some histo- 
 rical meaning, and is, perhaps, after all, as good as St. Ber- 
 nard; but take the description of a voyage round the world. 
 How unsightly and unsoundly are all the King George III. 
 Inlets and Prince Edward Islands, and Rios de San Christo- 
 bal, and Isla de St, Maria de Asuncion. Take one of the last 
 of these voyages, that of Captain Kotzebue. The name of his 
 vessel was Predpriatie. In the preface to the description 
 of his voyage, the circumnavigator says that the name is, 
 probably, so unwont to foreign lips that he will not any 
 more mention it; yet he bestows it on an island, to the con- 
 fusion of all geographers. I am truly glad that he had no 
 connexion with the town of Mtzensk or some other Russian 
 place of a similar name, or that he is no native of Srb ! If Ho- 
 mer himself were born on such an island, it could not become 
 immortal; for the best disposed scholar would be unable to 
 remember the name. It was, to be serious, no trifling ob- 
 stacle to the fame of many Polish heroes in the last unhappy 
 insurrection, that they had names which left upon the mind 
 of foreigners no effect but that of utter confusion. Skrzy- 
 necki was the only name the public could afford to remem- 
 ber, and even his name I do not know whether I have writ- 
 ten rightly or not. All the others went as nonibres incom- 
 prensibles, as the Colombians used to call the firm of a house 
 with which I am acquainted, la cusu de los nombres incom- 
 prensibles. The firm consisted of three individuals, and 
 never went by any other name in the post office than the 
 above. What would they have said of Knatchbull, Kuhlen- 
 kamp, or the English village of Home-upon-Spalding-moor.^ 
 Not only geographical discoverers find it difficult to invent 
 names; the same is the case in sciences and arts. When th« 
 study of mineralogy and chemistry began to be pursued 
 with a success unknown before, it was no mean difficulty for 
 their cultivators to find appropriate names, and, in many in- 
 stances, neither taste nor scientific strictness can be said to 
 have dictated them. 
 
( 236 ) 
 
 Difficult, however, as it is to find or make fair names, the 
 difficulty would be lessened were we to render the chaos be- 
 fore us somewhat to order, could we find out rules, which in 
 a degree might guide us. Had I more means than I possess, 
 and I need not be possessed of a Thelluson property, I should 
 certainly offer some price, for the best and most practical 
 rules for inventing new or applying old names to new places, 
 fivers, &c. I know full well, that taste, which cannot be 
 taught, will always be important in regard to this subject; 
 yet something might be done, by those rules and perhaps 
 still more by thus directing more general attention to this 
 matter. I really think it would be a subject worthy of oc- 
 cupying the attention of our learned societies, if they have 
 any means to dispose of for the purpose. 
 
 Simple and tasteful names, will always be preferable. Cap- 
 tain Back, on his chivalric journey, to seek his friend on 
 the eternal snow-fields, called the house, in which he wintered 
 from 1833 to 1834, Fort Reliance. Now, this is a model 
 for a name: it has sound, rhythm, and meaning; a mean- 
 ing most appropriate for his situation, and withal is beauti- 
 fully simple. Fort Reliance! what feeling heart or ear, that 
 is awake to rhythm, can hear it without remembering it 
 for ever? — We need but hear it, and it has stolen itself al- 
 ready into our ear, and our soul. Suppose he had called it 
 after some of his patrons so called, say Fort William, or 
 Fort Clarence, it sounds as well as the other, but would you 
 remember it the next hour? Does it call up all those agree- 
 able and more than agreeable ideas, with which the name 
 Fort Reliance directly associates itself? Compare with 
 this such a name as New Egypt, not far from Burlington; 
 how flat, — and why shall not things be called b}"^ their right 
 names? — how silly sounds the latter! 
 
 The English and Americans, so very practical in their 
 views, take it altogether more easy to fix a name to a thing 
 and let it pass. A chapel happens to be built in Regent Street, - 
 it is forthwith called Regent Chapel, though the regent had 
 nothing to do with it. (rermans would never have written 
 
( 237 ) 
 
 the name without prefixing a pedantic "so called." English 
 and Americans call something familiarly by a certain name, 
 and shortly after it is called so in books. In general this is 
 right enough; the thing is more important than the name, 
 and the chief end of the name is to signify the thing. This 
 is all perfectly just, and people have said to me, " What is a 
 name? It is all the same, how we call a thing." Why, a 
 name is something which sticks to a person or place until it is 
 changed, and if it forces unpleasant associations upon the 
 mind of every one who hears it, it is a bad name, and if it 
 sounds badly, you might just as well have chosen a better 
 one. I have met in Germany, France, England, and in this 
 country, with names positively indecorous, both of persons 
 and places. One of them was actually so offensive, that the 
 minister, an acquaintance of mine, could not pronounce it, 
 in publishing the banns, and had to get over the matter by a 
 cough. It did not simply cause an improper association of 
 ideas, but it was itself indecorous; and why has that excel- 
 lent Moselle wine, such a name? Every one will allow that 
 names of this kind are nuisances; they break in upon the 
 rights of society. He who wishes to be its member has no 
 right to offend his fellows in whatever way it may be. 
 
 Now, let me ask, is it, as to the individual, much better with 
 regard to a ridiculous name? If a name necessarily call up 
 a number of ludicrous associations, it must be pronounced a 
 bad name, and cannot possibly be agreeable or useful to its 
 bearer. And, be it remembered, a name ma}^ be very 
 much in the way, if its bearer is in public life. Puns may 
 sometimes severely smart, and even seriously injure; for 
 no weapon is so fiendish as ridicule, since you have often no 
 counter-weapon to oppose, and there are many cases, in 
 which a great deal is lost, if you have it not in your power 
 instantly to counteract the effect produced by your oppo- 
 nent. A vote may be lost, and one vote may decide great 
 things, both directly and by a series of rapid consequences. 
 
 A " good name" is an expression full of meaning; not only 
 as to the moral sense of the appellation, but also as to its 
 sound and the ideas with which it is associated; and this 
 
( 238 ) 
 
 holds not only with names of persons, but also with geogra- 
 phical nouns proper. A place ought to have "a good name," 
 in every respect. Menu, the Eastern sage, says that a fe- 
 male's name ought to be beautiful and to terminate with a 
 vowel. He was right in asking a beautiful name for a female, 
 and might have asked a fine one for a man, and a decent 
 one for a place. A bad name is like a bad razor; you may 
 be a most honorable man with it, yet it incommodes you a 
 thousand times. 
 
 That the custom of naming places after those distant spots, 
 whence emigrants originally came, is natural, and often has 
 something touching in it, no one will deny. We cling with 
 fondness to every object or sound which reminds us of the 
 spot where we were born, and enjoyed the unstinted happi- 
 ness of childhood; and where, perhaps, those we love most 
 continue to live. But, we must beware lest this sweet ef- 
 fect be counteracted by associations the very reverse of our 
 feelings. If Swiss emigrants call their settlement, however 
 small it may be, Vivay, it is in perfect accordance with 
 their feelings and all that taste may demand; but if they 
 call the whole county, in which the new Vivay is situated, 
 Switzerland, their fondness for their old country chooses an 
 unsuitable means of expressing itself. If a small place is 
 called after London, go and be wind-bound in it for a whole 
 week in winter, as I have been, and then tell me whether 
 the stay does not become a thousand times more disagreea- 
 ble by the constant comparison and contrast forced upon you. 
 I love to observe with what fondness Americans cherish 
 the memory of their descent, and their intimate connexion 
 with Europe. In many families cups, plates, chairs are 
 shown you, which their forefathers brought over from your 
 part of the world. Two large yew trees, cut in the stiff 
 and cramped style of the period of Louis XIV., and brought 
 from Europe at the beginning of the last century, are fond- 
 ly and justly nursed in the garden of a friend of mine; and 
 a merchant told me, that when he lately received from a fa- 
 mily in Guatimala, a quantity of old-fashioned silver and gold 
 plate, the goldsmith gave for various articles a higher price 
 
( 239 ) 
 
 than the mere metal would have brought, according to what 
 he gave for others. The reason he assigned was, that Ame- 
 ricans cherish memorials of their ancestors so much that, 
 sometimes, a general fondness for antique articles is met 
 with. 
 
 But, then, the association of ideas, to which a name ne- 
 cessarily leads, should not counteract its intended good ef- 
 fect, and especially it ought not, by its glaring contrasts, 
 to throw a ridicule on what it designates. The love of high- 
 sounding names nowhere more generally prevails than with 
 Americans. The baker calls his shop a Bakery; the shoe- 
 maker writes in gigantic letters over his shop, Shoe and 
 Boot Manufactory; over the entry to a bookbinder's, the 
 existence of a Bookbindery is testified to in staring capi- 
 tals; a little fruiterer's shop in the outskirts of a city, is de- 
 nominated Western Market. The instances which I have 
 mentioned arc by no means the most glaring. — The name 
 of Waverley Place, in New York, has nothing Iwd in it: it 
 shows as much as the Walter Scott grit, which I found ad- 
 vertised in the Berlin Royal Gazette, in 1826, the great 
 popularity of the Scottish novelist. 
 
 The name of a place is not the place itself, I grant; no 
 more is the flag, under which a gallant sailor fights for his 
 country, and would fight for her, were it green, pink, lilac, 
 buff, or chocolate, the country itself. Yet, I should like to 
 know whetlicr our sailors would not prefer, if they have the 
 choice, the bright and tasteful flag of the United States, which 
 has given rise to so many poetic allusions, — the star-spangled 
 banner, with its stripes and stars, to the Mecklenburg flag, 
 with a large ox-head on a white ground, and a ring through 
 its nose? I, for my part, prefer a place with a simple name, 
 to any American Memphis or Sparta. Some may accustom 
 themselves, after a long time, to hear of a village Manlius 
 without thinking of its namer, in like manner, as no one 
 now is reminded of the eminently ludicrous character of the 
 appellation jardin des plantes, but others cannot so ac- 
 custom themselves; and all the absurdity of the thing aj)- 
 
( 240 ) 
 
 pears in its most glaring light, as soon as we come to form 
 an adjective of these names, and, to call an individual, born 
 in these places, an Athenian, Roman, Ciceronian, Demos- 
 thenian, &c. Names of this kind have, as light wood railings 
 round a palace, something provisional in them, as if they 
 were not intended to last long; it gives a kind of an un- 
 settled character. I do not deny that these names reminded 
 me, constantly, while I was gliding along on the canal, of 
 the journey of the Empress Catharine through the painted 
 villages of the Crimea, when she was greeted by peasants 
 from great distances, though the American places, them- 
 selves, which bore these names, gave rise to ideas of a very 
 different character, — to wit, those produced by the sight of 
 substantial comfort. On the other hand, it may be allowed, 
 that this immense variety of names gathered from all 
 countries and all ages, partly results from the peculiar situ- 
 ation of the United States, before which, all civilized 
 countries lie like a map. Distance of time and place pro- 
 duces impartiality. Still it remains a caricature, though 
 caricatures exhibit traits of character with more effect than 
 when they are shown by more accurate delineations. The 
 first canal boat we passed exhibited on its stern these words: 
 
 Shakspeare of Lysander. 
 
 What a monstrosity! no satirist could have wished it 
 better. Republicans call a place after a general, whose cha- 
 racter was the very opposite of what ought to be valued 
 by republicans. But this is not the only instance I have 
 met with, of names given so much at random, that they are, 
 in fact, synonymes of wickedness. I have even sometimes 
 found the names of persons, held up in the Old Testament 
 for execration, ignorantly bestowed upon children. And a 
 canal-boat, for the carriage of goods, dragged by one horse, 
 and so slowly that all the passenger-boats overtake it, is 
 called after the most favored of all the inspired disciples of 
 the Pierian maids. 
 
 As botanists have now succeeded in somewhat reducing 
 
( 241 ) 
 
 the art of giving names to new plants, to certain rules, so 
 I think considerable assistance might be derived in the for- 
 mation of new geographical names, by paying some atten- 
 tion to the subject, and representing clearly to ourselves the 
 effect intended to be produced. There are some general 
 rules applicable in this case, as in any other; e. g. that good 
 taste, which strictly avoids every ludicrous, or uncalled for 
 association, ought to guide us, that simplicity is always re- 
 quisite for beauty and propriety,, &c. The most important 
 after these seems to me the sound. The name of a place 
 ought to flow easily, neither to be too long, nor loo short, 
 nor have an outlandish character, if no palpable reason for 
 the contrary exist. The sound is, perhaps, even more im- 
 portant than historical recollection, if the latter can only be 
 preserved at the ex)>ense of the former, because a name is a 
 thousand times pronounced in the common concerns of men, 
 without its historical meaning being remembered, and if we 
 have sacrificed to the latter, fine sound, and rhythmical flow, 
 we have lost, in all these cases, every thing. Secondly, if 
 the name may he derived from »ome historical event, so 
 much the better. It is well to surround ourselves, as much 
 as possible, with that which reminds us of memorable events 
 or persons; Gothe says, "The best which we have from 
 history, is the enthusiasm it excites." But I would always 
 advise to be cautious as to using nouns proper of persons for 
 places. It is not in good taste to call a place Thompson, 
 Brown, or the like, yet Hudson, I own, is good enough; for 
 the latter is not so much associated in our minds with the 
 idea of personality. Thirdly, geological features may af- 
 ford good materials for names, yet good taste must here, as 
 in all other cases, decide. Thus, Mount Carbon, sounds 
 to me flat; it smacks too mucli of lectures on chemistry, 
 while, perhaps. Colliers' Home does very well for a 
 small number of houses,, where the colliers of some neigh- 
 boring coal-pits live. I'he form of mountains, rivers, &c., 
 often aflbrds us tbc rlcmenfs of fuic names, such as fork, 
 ridge, niounl, confluence, (like Coblcnl/.,) r.ipids, fall, rock, 
 
( 242 ) 
 
 bridge, &c. Fourthly, the vegetable world, a prevailing 
 plant, tree, or herb, may afford a very convenient element 
 for nomenclature, sometimes it may give us a whole name, 
 which is not bad; e. g. Mount Holly, Laurel Hill, Cedar, or 
 Pine Grove, &c. Fifthly, the comparison to other places, by 
 the addition of Little, or New. But this, as I have said, 
 ought to be used very carefully. Sixthly, any English names 
 of small places, villages, &c., some of which are very fine, 
 and have never yet been used in this country. They are 
 preferable to Italian, French, &c. names, simply, because 
 they belong to our own language, and do 7iot carry any as- 
 sociation of ideas with them. Leominster, or Newham, 
 sounds to me much better, for a small place, than all the 
 Lodis and Waterloos. Seventhly, invention by arbitrary 
 composition. If the person be utterly at a loss what name 
 to bestow, let him put the consonants of the alphabet, writ- 
 ten on separate pieces of paper, into one hat, and the vowels 
 into another, and let him draw alternately from one or the 
 other; sometimes, if he choose, he may draw twice from the 
 consonants, until he has a word with two or three sylla- 
 bles. Though words, thus formed, will often be strange to 
 our ears, they will at other times be exceedingly sonorous, 
 and as it is very easy to make a great number of them, it is 
 necessary only to select the finest. I confess, I do not like 
 this way very much ; for it is better to follow the general 
 rule, that man ought to discard chance wherever it is in his 
 power, and to let reason and reflection guide him. 
 
 In order to form names after the above rules, it would be 
 well to collect a number of elements of names. We have 
 ville, borough, (not as often used, by the by, as it ought to 
 be) city, (as in Delaware City,) town, mount, creek, &c But 
 these are by no means enough. It seems to me that if we 
 consider of what elements many thousands of old geographi- 
 cal names are composed, we might use many of these com- 
 ponent parts to great advantage, provided they be con- 
 genial to our language; on which account, words and syl- 
 lables of Teutonic origin would generally be best. The 
 
( 243 ) 
 
 following may serve as samples, though there are many 
 more: — 
 
 V?e, derived either from the Celtic aa, or the Latin aqua^ 
 signifies a proximity to water, and occurs often in the 
 South of France, as the final syllable. 
 
 »fldely German for noble, often used for high, noble moun- 
 tains. 
 
 Alt, German for old. 
 
 Jirde, last syllable of several Dutch names, and signifies 
 as much as the German Erde, earth: for example, 
 Oudenarde, Old-Earth. 
 
 Jlrlj Jiar, and Adhr, German for eagle, as Jlrlberg, 
 Eagle-Mountain. 
 
 Bach, German for rivulet. 
 
 Bait and Belt, Celtic for a great assemblage of water: 
 for example, the Baltic and the Belt. 
 
 Berg, German for mountain, (and, in the English lan- 
 guage, an ice-berg.) 
 
 Borg, Danish and Swedish for castle, and might be taken 
 as borough. 
 
 Burg, German for the same. 
 
 Brig, Celtic for bridge. — Bothwellbrig in Old Morta- 
 lity. 
 
 Brunn, German for well: for example, Markebrunn, 
 (where fine hock is raised,) Well on the Frontier. 
 
 Den, Gothic for town. 
 
 Dorf, German for village. 
 
 Dun, Celtic for hill. 
 
 Ec, Ey, Jiye, Celtic. Mostly found with names of plants, 
 trees, &c., and signifies an assemblage of them. 
 
 Ey, Scandinavian for island, as in Anglesey, Isle of the 
 Angles. 
 
 Feld, German for field. (If there happen to be two 
 Greenfields, it might be convenient to change one into 
 Greenfeld.) 
 
( 244 ) 
 
 Fels, German for rock. 
 
 Fiord, Danish and Swedisli for dctroit, an arm of the 
 sea. 
 
 Furt, German for ford. 
 
 GaVy German and Persian for a fortified place. 
 
 Haff, German for port. 
 
 Hof, German for yard, a farm. 
 
 Hohn, Scandinavian for islet. 
 
 Juge, last syllable of m^ny Saxou names, meaning field. 
 
 Kerke, Flemish corruption of the German Kirche, Scot- 
 tish kirk, church. 
 
 Mark, German for frontier, thus Marksuhl, i. e. Suhl on 
 the frontier. 
 
 Mor, Celtic for sea. 
 
 Mund, German for mouth of a river. 
 
 Nant, Celtic for rivulet. 
 
 Ness, Scandinavian syllable at the end of a word, sig- 
 nifying a promontory, as Inverness. 
 
 Nieder, German for low. 
 
 Norr, Gothic for north. 
 
 Ny, Danish for new. 
 
 Ober, German for upper. 
 
 Oe, Danish syllable of termination, signifying island. 
 
 Ort, German for place, as Fredericsort. 
 
 Oude, Dutch for old. 
 
 Pen, Celtic for summit. 
 
 Schcen, German for beautiful, as Schoeneiche, Beautiful 
 Oak, and Schcenbrunn. 
 
 Seng, Danish for near. 
 
 Stein, German for rock. 
 
 Thai, German for valley, dale. 
 
 fVald, German for forest. 
 
 There are many short and well-sounding elements of ge- 
 ographical names in the Asiatic languages, but it would be 
 droll again, Avere we to make compounds with the Chinese 
 ho fui- river, 7^^' for north, pao for fortress, men for passage, 
 
( 245 ) 
 
 or lar, the Russian for shore or bank, or hiina, the Sanscrit 
 for cold. 
 
 If we add to the above elements those we find in English 
 names, but which we hardly ever use in our compounds, 
 such as, Chester, (from casirum,) dale, frith, hall, Jiam, (the 
 same with the German heim, as, in Durham, meaning home, 
 abode,) head, hill, stone, wick, and wich, (from the Latin 
 vicus,) &c., we shall have a number of geographical elements, 
 which, if used according to the above rules, might serve for 
 the composition of many fair names. For instance, if the 
 name Thompson must be retained, Thompsonort seems bet- 
 ter than merely Thompson. It is not meant to say, that the 
 given elements of foreign languages are better than the cor- 
 responding English ones, but one or the other may be more 
 convenient in certain compositions, or the English syllable 
 or word may have been used already, and every body who 
 has at all directed his attention to the subject, will agree with 
 me, that the enormous repetition of geographical names in 
 this country is a serious evil which threatens to become great- 
 er every day. I have made some inquiry in various post- 
 offices and the general post-office in Washington, and have 
 found, what can easily be imagined, that the large number 
 of places of the same name occasions, both to the offices and 
 the public, countless inconveniences. In fact, you have but 
 to open a gazetteer in order to convince yourself of what I 
 say. 
 
 If, then, a name is to be given to a place, township, coun- 
 ty, &c., and no appropriate Indian name be still in existence, 
 let the name-giver inquire w^hether there be any prominent 
 object within it, or whether any important event has hap- 
 pened there, and then try whether, with the above elements, 
 a fair name may be compounded; for it is to be adopted an 
 a rule, that, generally, some natural connexion should sub- 
 sist between name and place. If the place has ever borne 
 an Indian name, retain this before all others; if it be too long, 
 omit a svllable or two; if it be too difficult for white men to 
 
{ 246 ) 
 
 pronounce, change and shape it according to our organs, but 
 retain the name as far as possible. Indian names have the 
 advantage of natural growth and antiquity; we feel as if they 
 belong to the place, and are not pasted on as something ar- 
 bitrary, which may be changed again with equal caprice. 
 Besides, the Indian names of our country are generally well 
 sounding. If we come to the South American Iztaccihuatls, 
 Huitzompans, Cajotepeques, and Axajacatls, it is different, in- 
 deed; yet, even there, if a general assumes an elevated tone 
 in his proclamation, or an orator be desirous of addressing 
 his hearers in a dignified style, they resort to the Indian 
 names, and call the inhabitants of the different Mexican states 
 by the native names of those countries. This may be owing, 
 in a great measure, to the love of pompousness, so natu- 
 ral to Spaniards and their descendants, but there is, be- 
 sides, a great power in ancient names. They are like the 
 short titles of works, with the contents of which we are well 
 acquainted. The French revolution abolished carefully the 
 old names of the different provinces which had constituted 
 the kingdom, and introduced the more statistic names of the 
 departments. At no subsequent period of the republic or 
 the empire were they revived or even alluded to, until Na- 
 poleon returned from the Russian snow-fields. Then, when 
 he was conscious of being obliged to call for new and un- 
 heard of exertions, when he felt that he was in want of the 
 undivided energy of the whole nation, he, for the first time, 
 called upon the inhabitants of Burgundy, Brittany, Pro- 
 vence, Languedoc, &c., to rush to the banners for the de- 
 fence of the sacred soil of their country and national inde- 
 pendence. With a man like Napoleon, in his situation and 
 knowing the French nation so well, we cannot ascribe this 
 fact to trifling motives or, perhaps, to chance. 
 
 Another way of making names would be to collect the 
 most general processes by which corruptions, or, to use a 
 milder term, transformations have been brought about; to 
 reduce the whole to some rules, and apply them in given 
 cases. But the difiicully here would be, that first the name 
 
( 247 ) 
 
 or word, to be transformed, is wanting, and, secondly, that 
 these transformations would, in most cases, not be easy, often 
 impossible. Besides, the whole would be too scientific a 
 way, and it is the people, who bestow the names. 
 
 Madame Roland (that high-minded woman, but misplaced 
 in her age, as we find not a few such characters in history; 
 who should have lived in Rome when Coriolanus threatened 
 it, or when Hannibal was carrying terror over Italy) begins 
 her memoirs, relating to the French revolution, by an anec- 
 dote of her grandmother, who, when one day the curtain 
 support of her bed broke down, exclaimed, in astonishment, 
 *' This has lasted fifty-five years, how does it happen to 
 break now!" I agree with the old lady, and as this dis- 
 sertation on names has lasted so long, I intend it shall last 
 a few moments longer. 
 
 Names very often amuse me, by giving me an opportunity 
 of tracing their probable connexion with events of history. 
 There are Baron de Schmidts (Smith) in Germany. Great 
 and powerful convulsions of affaii*s were required to raise 
 this name — originally given to individuals engaged in occu- 
 pations which were considered fit only for slaves and bonds- 
 men — to a rank in the peerage. The existence of this title 
 represents, in the smallest possible compass, the ascendency 
 which the popular principle has been continually gaining 
 over the aristocratic throughout the whole European race. 
 Again, take a name like Tarifi'ville. What was not neces- 
 sary to produce such a name! It is a mix historica.* In 
 order to induce people to give to a place so flat an appella- 
 tion, their ardor for a tariff" must have run high, indeed; it 
 represents the existing state of American politics at the 
 time, the zeal of the northern states to vie with older coun- 
 tries in the career of manufacturing industry, and brings 
 to mind the struggle against this course of policy. But the 
 name tariff' would not have been given in this country to 
 
 • Thus is the text, but when the editor received the proof sheet, he found 
 that the printer had made of it, nux vomica. Did he do it on purpose i" — 
 Editob. 
 
( 248 ) 
 
 the subject which it designates, had not England adopted it 
 from Italy — Italy to which we owe, with so many other 
 branches of modern civilization, one of the most important — 
 the modern system of commerce. And she again took the 
 word tariff from the Orient, which, in many respects, had 
 obtained, at the time it afforded the name, great superiority 
 over the Occident. Through Italy was then running the 
 great stream of commerce; and mighty revolutions caused 
 it at once to flow in a totally different direction, and made 
 Spain great, and gave to Portugal the age of heroism. And 
 Camoens, the soldier, bard, and swimmer, the noble poet, and 
 the beggar, is brought before your mind, or the Italian tarifi' 
 reminds you of the ancient castle Tarifa, which no sailor 
 that ever passed the Straits of Gibraltar, will forget — that 
 monument of the Spanish Manlius, Don Alonso Perez Guz- 
 man, called el Bueno* by his grateful king, for having, like 
 a hero, refused to surrender the castle to the Moors, who 
 had captured his first-born son and threatened to behead him 
 before his eyes, should he not surrender. Guzman, as an- 
 swer, threw down from the battlement his own sword, with 
 which the Moors severed the head of the son, in the pre- 
 sence of his father. And all the deeds of Spanish chivalry, 
 and the songs which celebrate them in Castilian tongue, may 
 rise up before you and — thus you may dream on, and on, if 
 you are obliged to halt in a dreary inn of a barren place such 
 as little Tariffville. Or take the name of Brazil, a vast, rich, 
 and most glorious country, called after brasa, Portuguese 
 for coal; or Africa, originally a mere province; or Madei- 
 ra, sounding so pleasantly to the connoisseur in her noble 
 wines, from madera, Portuguese for ivood, or, properly 
 speaking, matter, stuff. 
 
 These are instances of names which rose to signify higher 
 things than they originally designated; there are other words 
 
 " This is the name which congress might have bestowed on Washington, 
 had they thought fit to bestow upon him any peculiar appellation whatever. 
 Washington the Good; it is a meet designation. But historj- is now bestow- 
 ing it. — Editor. 
 
( 249 ) 
 
 which have met with a similar fate. The Spanish rostro, the 
 proper word for face, which no poet hesitates to use, is de- 
 rived from the Latin rostrum, which, probably, was intro- 
 duced into Spain in connexion with the meaning of face, by 
 the Roman soldier, who, vulgarly, would use the word beak 
 for face, as people, of the same class, with us, would use 
 snout, by way of contempt. Or, who thinks that when he 
 says, Macbeth is the most tragic of all dramatic composi- 
 tions, that he calls it, in fact, the most goatish of plays? 
 But there are, in original languages, words of domestic ori- 
 gin which, nevertheless, have been elevated to the rank of a 
 much more exalted signification than their original one. 
 Yet their number is infinitely smaller than that of the woi*ds, 
 which continually sink in their meaning. Words and phrasesy 
 in themselves the purest possible, become, in the course of 
 time, common, vulgar, and even indecent, or, must I say in- 
 decorous, the word indecent itself having- sunk already too 
 low? 
 
 I'll give you yet another instance of a far-travelling name^ 
 The Baroness de Rredesel tells, in her memoirs, that she 
 presented her husband, commanding the Hessian and Bruns- 
 wick troops against us, with a daughter, when in this part of 
 the world. She was called America, and is now America, 
 Countess of Bernstorff. She would not have received this 
 name, had not the chain-rewarded Columbus, an honor to 
 mankind and a shame to moiiarchs, been wronged out of the 
 glory due to him- and to him alone. Then consider, that 
 the Italian name Amerigo, the same with Emmerigo, is one 
 of the many names not unfrequent in the northern part of 
 Italy, brought thither by the conquering Germans, such as 
 Arrigo, Carlo, Ludovico (Luigi,) Matelda, &c. Amerigo 
 and Emmerigo are derived from the German Emmerich; so 
 you see that our western hemisphere bears a German name, 
 which made the tour du monde before it came back to its 
 original land in the person of Countess Bernstorff, Howe- 
 ver, the name is certainly most melodious and beautiful, and 
 
( 250 ) 
 
 I feel truly grateful that the Spaniards have not named our 
 part of the world after the family name of the Florentine 
 merchant-navigator. Suppose our great continent to have 
 been called Vespuccia! 
 
 The wrong done to the noble-minded Genoese, was felt, 
 when Congress called the small piece of national ground, — 
 where we meet to prove that we are a nation, and love to 
 have one banner, waving alike over the representatives from 
 all parts, — the District of Columbia; and when the Ame- 
 rican poet mentions his country, inspired with her noble 
 destinies, he calls her Columbia, so that here, we have two 
 names, one for politics and the common concerns of life, and 
 one for poetry, as the Greek gods had an Olympic name, and 
 one "by which mortals call them." 
 
 The quaint names used in all parts of the United States, but 
 especially in the Eastern states, have often been commented 
 upon, and I will not give you a list of them; I should not 
 know where to stop. The custom of adopting names from the 
 Old Testament, and, as I have already remarked, often with 
 inconceivable negligence, so that women have sometimes to 
 carry a name through life, which calls up in the mind of every 
 one skilled in the Old Testament associations of a most un- 
 pleasant kind; or of giving the family name as a surname to a 
 child, which is customary also in England, and a usage I like, 
 though it cannot be denied, that it often gives rise to very 
 queer compounds, as in the instance of a boy, whose bap- 
 tismal name was Dolittle, after an uncle of this name; or that 
 of following mere wliim or fancy, renders these strange 
 names very frequent. The following I ctit out of the 
 Barnstable Journal, of February 9, 1832, which I happened 
 to find. There are, certainly, quaint names enough in a very 
 short space, and not put together for any other purpose than 
 the advertertising of marriages. 
 
 " In West Barnstable, by the Rev. Mr. Harris, Capt. Tho- 
 mas Cobb, of Hyannis, to JNIiss Temperance Cobb, of W. 
 Barnstable. 
 
( 251 ) 
 
 " In South Dennis, Capt. Julius Baker, to Miss Diadema D. 
 Killey. Capt Shubael Nickerson to Miss Phoebe Downes. 
 
 " In North Dennis, Capt. Aaron Crowell to Miss Fear Hall. 
 Mr. Jeremiah Hall to Miss Thankful Howes." 
 
 There was a lady in Berlin, so full of enthusiasm for the 
 glory of regenerated Prussia, that she called her son Land- 
 sturm of Eighteen-hundred-and-Thirteen, (Militia of the 
 Third Banner of 1813;) another called her daughter Blu- 
 cherine, and you remember perhaps the Prussian cabinet- 
 order, which forbade clergymen to baptize children by any 
 other than customary names — a law which, in spite, of my 
 hearty dislike of quaint and ugly appellations, I thought 
 very queer. If parents are not the best people to be trusted 
 with naming their children, I think still less ought they to 
 be trusted with cutting their hair or nails, or judging of the 
 best time of weaning them. This is certainly a striking ex- 
 ample of the peculiar intermeddling principle, the cultiva- 
 tion of which, at one time, was considered, on the European 
 continent, as the greatest problem of domestic politics, but 
 which is now gradually giving way to more expanded views 
 of legislation. 
 
 In few things, perhaps, appears the difference of the Eng- 
 lish and American character in a more decided light than 
 in their respective regard for names and descent. As soon 
 as an Englishman becomes known in any way, his descent 
 is traced out through as many generations as possible. " He 
 descends from a family highly respectable for several gene- 
 rations, in such and such a county," is an expression we 
 often meet with in English publications. If some distant 
 relationship to some distant nobleman exist, it is sure to be 
 ferreted out, were all the pages of history to be ransacked 
 before it can be arrived at, and did it exist, after all, but in 
 the collateral line, as of some daughter to some nephew of 
 some sister of some earl. Who can read tlie preface to the 
 memoirs of Lord Collingwood without a smile? However, 
 a preface of this kind is easily forgotton, when the excel- 
 
( 252 ) 
 
 lent subject of the biography may so justly say, with Napo- 
 leon, " Let my nobility date Irom myself." When Wash- 
 ington had risen to be admired, even by his enemies, the 
 Garter King-at-Arms, Sir Isaac Head, requested the great 
 man for his genealogy, as we are told in Roscoe's Memoirs. 
 Such is the course of things: little people pay high for 
 having made out their pedigree in London or Vienna; dis- 
 tinguished men, like Washington or Napoleon, are begged 
 to give it, or to accept it from obsequious inquirers, and — 
 care little for it 
 
 That this wish to prove a respectable origin comes from 
 a praiseworthy source, can be denied by no one: but some- 
 times it degenerates into the ludicrous. On the other hand, 
 the ease with which Americans change their names is still 
 more astonishing. That a change of name is readily granted 
 if the name be improper, or, as I saw in the petition of a 
 lady to the New York legislature, if a change be necessary, 
 " for obvious reasons," (the name, it must be owned, was 
 one of the ugliest I had ever heard.) is no more than just. 
 However great tiie respect we bear to our parents may be, I 
 do not see any reason which obliges us to carry through life a 
 name unfit for society, or expressing or indicating something 
 ridiculous, and transmit it to our children. It is certainly 
 not right to make a change of names so difficult as in many 
 countries, where it approaches nearly to an impossibility. 
 But the levity with which names are changed in some parts 
 of the United States is again an abuse. Often it amounts to 
 nothing more than that a person is called ABC, and now 
 wishes to call himself B A C. I will send you, as a proof, 
 a whole act, granted by the legislature of JNIassachusetts, in 
 1830, to change the names of persons. Remember, the le- 
 gislature sits annually and, probably, grants usually as large 
 a number of changes;* at least, 1 have not heard that the ac- 
 
 • \Y'e give the list of tliese names, though apparently a tedious enumera- 
 tion, at full length, because it is, in fact, a subject worthy the attention of 
 
( 253 ) 
 
 companying is an unusually large number. Jiut, on the other 
 hand, it must not be forgotten that there are more indivi- 
 duals of the same name in America than I have found with 
 any European nation. Names which signify occupations or 
 
 our legislators, and will be interesting' to many readers, as characteristic of 
 American moveability: — 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS. 
 AN ACT TO CHANGE THE NAMES OF THE PERSONS THEREIN MENTIONED. 
 
 Be it enacted by the Senate and Ilouxe of Representatives in general Court 
 assemhkd, andbijthe authority of the same. That Webber Kicker, of Boston, 
 may take the name of George Webber Ricker^ that Orlando White, of Bos- 
 ton, may take the name of Henry Kirke Wiiite; that Samson Wilder Thurston, 
 of Boston, may take the name of Wilder Stoddard Thurston; that Petro Pa- 
 pathakes, of Boston, may take the name of Peter Patterson; that William Mc- 
 Managle, of Boston, may take the name of William Pinkerton McKay; that 
 John McManagle, of Boston, may take the name of John McKay; that P^li- 
 zabeth McManagle, wife of the said John McManagle, may take the name 
 of Elizabeth McKay; and that Mary Ann McManagle, daughter of the said 
 John McManagle, may take the name of Mary Ann McKay; and that his son 
 John Pinkerton McManagle, may take the name of John Pinkerton McKay; 
 that Rebecca Waitt, of Clielsea, may take the name of Ann Rebecca Waitt; 
 that Thomas James Prince, of Boston, may tidce the name of James Prince; 
 that Lucius Augustus Hoar, of Boston, may take the name of Lucius Augus- 
 tus Horr; that WiUiam Smith, of Boston, may take the name of William Otis 
 Smith; that Blowers Danforth, of Boston, may take the name of Bowers Dan- 
 forth; that Thomas Goddard, son of James Goddard, of Boston, may take the 
 name of Thomas Austin Goddard; that Nathaniel Thayer, minor, son of Su- 
 san F. Thayer, of l?oston, may take the name of Nathaniel Frederick Thayer; 
 that Andrew Haskell, of Boston, may take the name of Andrew W. Haskell; 
 that William Eckley, minor, son of David Eckley, of Boston, may take the 
 name of William Havard Eliot Eckley; that Robert Lapish, of Boston, may 
 take the name of Robert Hardison Dalton; that James Lloyd Borland, son of 
 John Borland, of Boston, may take the name of James Lloyd; that William 
 Richardson, of Boston, may take the name of William Horatio Richardson; of 
 all of the county of Suffolk. — That Elizabeth Wendell, of Salem, may take 
 the name of Maiy Elizabeth Wendell; that Samuel Becket Kehew, of Salem, 
 may take the name of Samuel K. Appleton; that Elianan Winchester Knight, 
 of Salisbury, may take the name of Winchester Knight; that Josiah Cooper, 
 of Newbur}'port, may take the name of Henry Franklin Benton; that Caro- 
 line Chase, of Newbur}'port, may take the name of Caroline Boardman Chase; 
 that Harriet Chase, of Newbuiyport, may take the name of Harriet Augusta 
 
( 254 ) 
 
 qualities, such as Young, Brown, Black, White, (why does 
 no nation use Blue as a family name? All other decided co- 
 lors are used by one or the other,) Mercer, Carpenter, Car- 
 ter, Smith are common every where; but names of a differ- 
 
 Chase; that Peter Augustine Kimball, of Ipswich, may take the name of Au- 
 gustine Phillips Kimball; that William Micklefield, junior, minor, son of Mary 
 Magruth, of Salem, may take the name of Thomas Morris; that Daniel Put- 
 nam, junior, and William Putnam, second, sons of Daniel Putnam, esquire, 
 ofDanvers, may severally take the names of Daniel Franklin Putnam and 
 William Richardson Putnam; that Timothy Dow Plumer, minor, son of Na- 
 than Plumer, of Newburyport, may take the name of Charles Henry Plumer; 
 that Helen Ehzabeth Cook, and that Joseph Augustus Edwin Long Cook, 
 minor, children of John Cook, junior, of Newbuiyport, may take the respec- 
 tive names of Helen Mar Cook and Joseph Augustus Cook; that Pedro Bla- 
 sina, of Beverly, may take the name of Edward Harrington; that Margaret 
 Welman McMillan, of Salem, may take the name of Margaret Ann Maskalli 
 that Cynthia Clarinda Dennis Young, minor, daughter of Levi Young, of Ips- 
 wich, may take the name of Cynthia Clarinda Young; that Nathaniel Rogers 
 Lane, of Gloucester, may take the name of Fitz Henry Lane; that Daniel 
 Jackson Doggett, of Ipswich, may take the name of Daniel Jackson Aker- 
 man; that Lucy Lord Doggett, wife of the said Daniel Jackson Doggett, 
 may take the name of Lucy Lord Akerman; that Joseph L. Doggett, may take 
 the name of Joseph Lord Akerman; that Sarah L. Doggett, may take the 
 name of Sarah Lord Akemian; that Lucy M. Doggett, may take the name of 
 Lucy Maria Akerman; that Susan L. Doggett, may take the name of Susan 
 Lord Akennan ; that Walter P . Doggett, may take the name of Walter Phillips 
 Akerman; the last five above-named persons are minor children of the said Da- 
 niel Jackson Dogget; that Daniel Wardwell, the third, of Andover, Mehita- 
 ble Putnam Wardwell, wife of the said Daniel, that Susan Putnam Wardwell, 
 minor, daughter of the said Daniel Wardwell, may each respectively take the 
 surname of Davenport, instead of Wardwell; that Mori'is Hern, of Rowley, 
 may take the name of Morris Hersey; that Joseph Worm.wood, of Lynn, 
 that Susan Wormwood, wife of the said Joseph, and that Eliza Ellen 
 Wormwood, daughter of the said Joseph, may each respectively take the 
 surname of Everett instead of Wormwood; — all of the county of Essex. 
 That Charles Carter, minor, son of Jacob Carter, of Leominster, may take 
 the name of Charles Augustus Carter; that Stillman Hoar, of Sterling, 
 may take the name of Stillman Haven: that Hannah Ward Hoar, wife 
 of the said Stilhuan Hoai", may take the name of Hannah Ward Haven; that 
 Oscar Dextor and Ward Knowlton, minor sons of said Stillman Hoar, may 
 severally take the surname of Haven; that Jonathan Fairbanks, of Leo- 
 minster, may take the name of Henry Fairbanks; tliat Samuel Granger, of 
 New Bi-aintree, may take the name of Edwin Granger; that Thomas Law- 
 
( 255 ) 
 
 ent signification, and many of which are derived from bap- 
 tismal names, such as Jackson, Andrews, Williams, Jones, 
 Hamilton, Patterson, are very frequent. You have only to 
 look at a directory of any of our large places, to convince 
 
 rence, second, of Leominster, may take the name of Thomas Edmunds; 
 that John Babcock, of Fitchburg-, may take the name of John B. Marshall; 
 that Nathaniel Bradford, of Fitchburg-, may take tlie name of Gustavus Ly- 
 man; that Ann Mai-ia Keyes, of Ashburnham, may take the name of Almira 
 Keyes; that Thomas Woodbury Gaffield, of Grafton, may take the name of 
 George Woodbury Hale; that Oliver Goodridge of Lunenburg-, may take 
 tlie name of Oliver Newton Goodrich; that Abiel Murdock, junior, of Leo- 
 minster, may take the name of Thomas A. Murdock; that William Meriam, 
 junior, of Ashburnham, may take the name of WiUiam Sanborn Meriam; 
 that Nabby Willis, of Charlton, may take the name of Abigail Ellis WiJlis; 
 that Mary L. B. Wiswall, of Westminster, may take the name of Mary Ly. 
 man; that Sarali Crouch, of Bolton, may take tlie name of Sarah Alvira Nel- 
 son; that Jefferson Beers, of Spencer, may take the name of Edward Be- 
 man; that Samuel Bullcn, of Charlton, may take the naine of Samuel Boy- 
 den; and that Adams S. Bullen, of said Charlton, may take the name of Adams 
 Boyden; — all of the county of Worcester. That Moses C. Danforth, of Low- 
 ell, and that Pamelia Danforth, wife of the said Moses C. Danforth, may se- 
 verally take the surname of Monroe instead of Danforth; that Jolm Henry 
 Blasker, of Lowell, may take the name of John Henry Blake; that Jame 
 Nichols, junior, of Reading, may take the name of James Churchill Nichols; 
 that Vashti Brigam Barns, of Reading, may take tlte name of Mary Jane 
 Barns; that Haslet McManaglc, of Marlborough, may take the name of Has- 
 jet McKay; that Nancy McManagle, wife of the said Haslet, that Ann, his 
 daughter, and that WiUiam PinkerVon, his son, may respectively take the 
 surname of McKay instead of McManagle; that Ephraim Littlefield, of Hol- 
 llston, minor son of Oliver P. Littlefield, deceased, may take the name of 
 Ephi-aim Oliver Prescott Littlefield; that Benjamin Thompson, of Charles- 
 town, may take the name of Benjamin Lowell Thompson; that Samuel Mat- 
 ticks Ellenkittle, of Townsend, may take the name of William Matticks 
 Rogers; that James Kidder, minor child of James Kidder, junior, of Water- 
 town, may take the name of James Hosmer Kidder; that Jason Chamberlain 
 Smith, of HoUiston, may take the name of Jason Smith; that Anna Damon, 
 of Reading, may take the name of Anna Pratt; — all of tlie county of Middle- 
 sex. That Isaac Mahtoa Wansongthi Adams, of Brooklyn, may take the 
 name of Isaac Mahti-a Wansongthi Adams; that Franklin Oakes, of Cohasset, 
 minor son of Levi Oakes, may take the name of Benjamin Franklin Oakes; 
 that Martin Speiu-, of Dcdham, may take the name of Hemy Forrister 
 Speai"; — all of the county of Norfolk. That Anna Mayo, of Eastham, may 
 take the name of Anna Doane Mayo; that Lucy Knowles, of Eastham,may take 
 
( 256 ) 
 
 yourself of the truth of this remark. This paucity of names, 
 which exists in England, likewise, though not in so great a 
 degree as, with ourselves, (except in Wales,) creates, of 
 course, much confusion, which people are sometimes desi- 
 rous of escaping by a change of name. 
 
 It happens, besides, very frequently, in the United States, 
 that property is left to a certain person on condition of his 
 changing his name for that of the testator; thus exhibiting 
 again a strong desire of perpetuating a certain name. 
 
 The growing up of family names, as well as the peculiar 
 distinction of Roman names, into prxnomina, nomina, and 
 cognomina, have served as grounds for various broad re- 
 marks as to the history of civilization. I will not here 
 trouble you with my notions on this subject, but merely re- 
 late to you a fact of great interest, with which you might 
 not become acquainted otherwise. Mr. Schoolcraft, in his 
 Narrative of an Expedition to Itasca Lake, the Actual 
 Source of the Mississippi, in 1832, (New York, 1834,) says, 
 in page 146, "The most striking trait in their (the Indians) 
 
 the name of Lucy Harding' Knowles; that Thankful Hallet Bray, of Yar- 
 mouth, may take the name of Susan Augusta Bray; — all of the county of 
 Barnstable. — That Ignatius Loring, of Great Barrington, may take the name 
 of Almon Ignatius Loring; that Grosvenor Curtis, of Egremont, may take 
 the name of Harvey Grosvenor Curtis; — both in the county of Berkshire. 
 That John Foster, junior, of Scituate, may take the name of John Hatherly 
 Foster; — of the county of Plymouth. That Calvin Hoar, of Northampton — 
 that Phoebe Hoar, wife of the said Calvin — that William Patrick, and Samuel 
 Johnson, children of the said Calvin, may each respectively take the surname 
 of Hoyt instead of Hoar; — all of the county of Hampshire. That Elisha 
 Hunt, of Northfield, in the county of Franklin, may take the name of Elisha 
 Watriss Hunt. That Martha Leavett Mayhevv, an adopted daughter of Lea- 
 vett Thaxter, of Edgartown, in tlie county of Dukes, may take the name of 
 Martha Leavett Tiiaxter; that Nancy S. Covell, of New Bedford, may take 
 the name of Nancy S. Blackmere; that Abigail Gifford, daughter of John 
 Gifford, of Westport, may take the name of Abby Giftbrd; that Isaac Hatha- 
 way, of New Bedford, may take the name of Isaac Franklin Hathaway; all 
 in the county of Bristol; — and the several persons herein mentioned are here- 
 by allowed to take and hereafter be known by the respective names which 
 by this act they severally are authorized to assume. 
 Approved by the Governor, March 13, 1832. 
 
( 257 ) 
 
 moral history, is the institution of the iontem — a sign ma- 
 nuel, by which the affiliation of families is traced, agreeing 
 more exactly, perhaps, than has been supposed, with the ar- 
 morial bearings of the feudal ages. And this institution is 
 kept up with a feeling of importance, which it is difficult 
 to account for. An Indian, as is well known, will tell his 
 specific name with great reluctance, but his generic or fa- 
 mily name, — in other words his tontem, — he will declare 
 without hesitation, and with an evident feeling of pride." 
 The philosophy of this is like that of the prohibition of 
 mentioning the name of his Chinese majesty. He is em- 
 peror, and that is all. All individuality is merged in the ge- 
 neral idea of sovereignty — the same principle as that of 
 the French, le roi est mart, vive le rot. 
 
 And now the tester of my letter, having lasted so long, 
 at length breaks down, and T wish you a good night.* 
 
 * The author speaks, in this letter, of American fickleness respecting' 
 names. In as far as this relates to names of places, it is not peculiar to the 
 inhabitants of the United States, but results from certain relations inherent 
 in cour\tries so newly and rapidly peopled as many parts of North America. 
 But lately the name of York, in Upper Canada, was chang'ed back into its 
 ancient Indian name of Toronto. — Editob. 
 
 33 
 
( 258 ) 
 
 LETTER XIV. 
 
 Utica is a fine and friendly looking city. You are ac- 
 quainted with the astonishing rapidity of its growth, owing, 
 chiefly, to its peculiarly favorable situation on the canal, 
 and in a point where many channels of a large productive 
 country concentrate. In the year 1794, the place contained 
 nineteen families; at present, it counts above 10,000 inha- 
 bitants. This city, by the way, affords one of the few in- 
 stances in which the name of an individual might, with per- 
 fect propriety, be bestowed upon a place. Instead of calling 
 a town, which owes its peculiar character as to beauty and 
 importance to its inland situation, after an ancient seaport, 
 chiefly renowned for the suicide of noble Cato, would not 
 Clinton have been a more appropriate appellation, after him 
 whose monument Utica as well as many other thriving 
 places on the canal may be considered? This name, it 
 seems to me, would have had all the requisites of a good 
 geographical appellation; and if, in former ages, men were 
 called after places, places may well be called now after 
 men, provided there be a strong reason for it, and the 
 name have not too strongly assumed the character of a per- 
 sonal designation. I cannot help considering it in bad taste 
 to call a town Smith or Taylor. 
 
 Utica is remarkable in the history of civilization, for 
 when she was made a city in 1832, an express prohibition 
 against licensing shops for retailing ardent spirits was in- 
 serted in her charter, — a restriction made, probably, for the 
 
( 259 ) 
 
 first time, in the history of the world, though temperance 
 societies existed as early as in the middle ages. 
 
 The main street of Utica, like that of every other place 
 in the Union, if at all considerable in size, exhibits a large 
 collection of those vast shops or stores of all kinds, which? 
 in the great numbers in which they are scattered over the 
 whole country, seem to me quite peculiar to the United States, 
 and to indicate the immense consumption of their inhabi- 
 tants. In England, especially in London, retail shops of 
 extraordinary size, with twenty and thirty people in them, to 
 wait on the customers, may be found; but they are not so 
 frequent in the smaller places. The spacious shops, or 
 stores, as the Americans call them, of ironmongers, drug- 
 gists, grocers, and for the sale of earthen ware, &c., have al- 
 ways astonished me. They prove, on a larger scale, what 
 you see continually on a smaller one in your own house, in 
 the streets, &c., that the American consumes more than 
 any other human being, in respect to victuals, dress, and do- 
 mestic concerns. There is not so much patching, pasting, 
 puttying, in the United States, as in other countries, espe- 
 cially on the European continent; and when, in 1833, the 
 judges of a court in Kentucky had to decide in a specific 
 case, of what "a decent new suit of clothes," to be furnished 
 to apprentices on the expiration of their term of service is 
 to consist, the bench decided that it ought to be worth fifty 
 dollars. Broad-cloth is here much dearer than in Europe, I 
 own; yet this sum, large for the case, may serve you as in- 
 dicating, in a degree, the " standard of comfort," which 
 altogether is much higher in this country than any where 
 else, if we speak of the industrial classes. Servants live in- 
 finitely better here than in Europe. If we could obtain as 
 accurate statements respecting consumption of all kinds in 
 any large place in the United States Jls we possess of Paris, 
 we would be astonished at the statistical results. I have 
 made out some calculations of the kind from the lists of im- 
 portations, but I think it will be better to reserve these sta- 
 tistics for another opportunity; for they will serve as the 
 
( 260 ) 
 
 basis of some farther reflections, too extensive, and of too 
 numerical a character, for these familiar letters. My desire 
 is to give some scientific work on the United States; and, 
 there, tables and calculations of this kind will be more in their 
 place. — "Very bad men, very bad, throw away best things," 
 said once a Chinese servant to me, when I spoke with him 
 on this country, in comparison with his. Poor fellow! the 
 contrast must be great, to be sure, with his dishes made 
 of every part of animals; and I, too, thought of the sheep 
 entrails boiled with maize, which I was forced to eat in 
 Corinth, and which hunger was able to make me swallow 
 but not to relish. 
 
 The object of the greatest interest to me, in Utica, was a 
 weigh-lock — an American invention if I am not mistaken. 
 The toll for freight on the canal is proportionate to weight. 
 To arrive at the weight of a cargo, gauges are commonly 
 used: this is the process of weighing, for instance, in Eng- 
 land; another means is used here. A steelyard on a gigan- 
 tic scale is constructed; the scale, formed in a manner that 
 the bottom of a vessel fits conveniently in it, hangs by three 
 pairs of iron rods on a strong iron beam, which rests and 
 plays on three nice points of steel. To this large iron beam 
 another is fastened perpendicularly in a horizontal plain, 
 forming the arm from which the scale, destined for the 
 weights, depends. The whole is so balanced, that one pound 
 in this latter scale balances one hundred pounds in the large 
 scale; and, with such a degree of nicety is the whole ma- 
 chinery made, that quarter pounds are used as weights, 
 which, of course, counterbalance twenty-five pounds in the 
 large scale. This hangs down into a small basin, communi- 
 cating with the canal, with which it can be disconnected by 
 a lock. Whenever j^boat is to be weighed the lock is 
 opened, and the vessel floats into the basin between the 
 iron rods of the scale, which is now under its bottom. The 
 lock is closed, and by another lock the water is discharged 
 from the basin, so that within a short time the whole boat 
 hangs dry in the scale. Weights are now placed in the weigh- 
 
( 261 ) 
 
 ing scale; the original burden of the boat, the testimony of 
 which every boatman carries with him, is deducted from 
 the gross weight, and the toll is paid accordingly. The 
 weight of the boat and cargo on which I saw the operation 
 performed, was sixty two tons or 136,000 pounds; much 
 heavier cargoes, however, are weighed. When the whole 
 was balanced, I was able, literally, to move by my little 
 finger, 136,000 pounds up and down. When the lock has 
 admitted again a sufficient quantity of water, and the boat 
 is once more set afloat, the first lock is opened, and the boat 
 floats out. The operation of weighing, which I witnessed, 
 lasted from the time the boat entered the lock to its sailing 
 out again, nine minutes; but three or four minutes must be 
 deducted, as the weigh-master had to fetch a lantern, it 
 having grown dark. He assured me that when the people 
 on board the boat understand the details of the whole opera- 
 tion, and no unnecessary delay takes place, he can weigh 
 any boat in less than four minutes. I could not learn the 
 name of the author of this invention, the more interesting 
 as it is the bold application of a simple principle known to 
 every one. In the cathedral of Pisa, the work of Buschetto, 
 the worthy Greek architect, I found the following inscrip- 
 tion on the monument erected in his honor: 
 
 Qtiod vix mille bovum possent jugajuncta movere, 
 
 Ed quod vix potuit per mare ferre rates, 
 Busketi nisu, quod erat mirabile visu, 
 
 Dena puellarum turba levabat onus.* 
 
 The engineer who invented the weigh-locks, deserves to 
 be celebrated in a similar manner, though, it is to be hoped, 
 in a better style. 
 
 About fourteen miles north of Utica, are the Trenton 
 Falls. Before you reach them, you have to pass over the 
 heights, which form the basin or kettle, as the German to- 
 
 • " A burden, which hardly could be moved by a tliousand yokes of oxen, 
 and which the vessel could hardly carry over the sea, has been lifted, a 
 marvel to see it! through the exertion of Buschetto, by ten girls." Near 
 Philadelphia is a weigh-lock of the same kind, and, probably, they are now 
 to be found on other canals in the Union. — Editor. 
 
( 262 ) 
 
 pographer calls it, in which Utica is situated. From them 
 you have a fine view of the whole. Utica lies before you, 
 as in a nest, well-bedded. The Trenton Falls are formed 
 by the West Canada Creek, a river — though called with us 
 a creek, which empties into the Mohawk, but which, like 
 the Missouri, has been wronged out of its name, and is, pro- 
 perly speaking, the upper part of the Mohawk, as the Mis- 
 souri is the upper part of the Mississippi. I send you a de- 
 cription of Trenton Falls, by John Sherman, "through whose 
 instrumentality the now celebrated Trenton Falls were pre- 
 pared for examination, and brought into public notice." You 
 must endeavor to pick out for yourself the interesting facts 
 from the chaff of poetico-religious prating, to which, as yet, 
 the Americans are certainly more given than any other civi- 
 lized nation. Many books, indeed, in whatever language, 
 when the subject matter is natural scenery, descend into 
 this verbose and therefore unfelt "enthusemusy;" but the 
 Americans excel in that style of description, which the 
 Germans would call a "screwed" admiration of nature. — 
 True, deep-felt delight at the beauties of nature, is silent, 
 or it speaks a language very easily to be distinguished 
 from that cant, which carries with it the proof that he who 
 utters it thinks of himself and his words far more than of 
 the subject which, as he pretends, Causes his transport. A 
 rude or blunt man, who feels nothing at beholding nature's 
 magnificence, or charms, is no agreeable companion; but, if 
 I must choose, I would a thousand times prefer him to a sen- 
 timental prattler. It was, undoubtedly, disgust, caused by 
 artificial raptures or swollen, yet hollow phrases, which in- 
 duced Gothe, when one day he visited some of the finest points 
 around Jena, in company of some ladies, and they were soar- 
 ing high on " the winged words," to turn round to a gentle- 
 man and drily to say, "Let us eat some of the sausage, while 
 the ladies are so busily admiring." 
 
 The Trenton Falls are most romantic. I went to see them 
 with a young clergyman of Boston, but now settled in Ken- 
 tucky, who felt, and, therefore, did not say much, and whose 
 acquaintance, I value as a real acquisition. It had rained 
 
( 263 ) 
 
 for several days previous to our visit, and the Canada was, 
 consequently, very much swollen, so that the narrow foot 
 paths, or I ought to say foot-steps, hewn in the rocks, were 
 covered by the hurrying waves of the river, which tumbled 
 like melted amber, graced with early snow from rock to rock, 
 and we had to walk, sometimes with no little danger, for 
 several hours bare foot in the water. But we were well re- 
 paid; no visiters disturbed us, and we could quietly enjoy 
 the many beauties and variegated charms of this delightful 
 spot, which looked as if made for the reveries of Petrarch. 
 What nooks, and corners, and steep walls, cascades on cas- 
 cades; what whirling and tumblingof the water, rushing with 
 such rapidity, that you are unable to follow with your eyes 
 a branch thrown in ! The sound of the falling waters seemed 
 to me, by two tones higher than that of the Niagara, which 
 appeared to me to be G on the first line in the bass. I believe 
 I am not mistaken, as I ascertained repeatedly the sound by 
 my own voice, and verified it, as soon as I found a piano. 
 
 A man who suffers seriously with the mania compara- 
 tionis, which seems to be a very common disease among 
 all civilized nations, might compare the general character of 
 the Trenton Falls to that of Saxon Switzerland, though there 
 is no tumbling waterfall in that country equal to the cascades 
 of the Canada at Trenton. The person who first called the 
 mountain scenery of Upper Misnia, Saxon Switzerland, must 
 himself have been grievously afflicted with this mania, which, 
 in spite of its universality, has not been enumerated by any 
 Rush, Pinel, Esquirol, Horn, or Heinrothj and certainly he 
 has not done any service either to the scenery or the travel- 
 ler. People seem to think that they elevate a pony by com- 
 paring it to an an Eclipse or Henry; but Bolivar remains 
 Bolivar, though you may call him the Washington of the 
 South. It is always forgotten that nothing recoils with such 
 malignant force, as misplaced, or hypocritical, or servile com- 
 parison: no one laughs at the frog, until puffed up and com- 
 paring himself with the bull.* 
 
 • We perfectly agree with the author. The mania comparationis, as htj 
 calls it, is so common, because it is the abuse of a genei'al principle. Wc 
 
( 264 ) 
 
 There is, near the largest of the cascades which constitute 
 the Trenton Falls, a horizontal plateau of rock, on which 
 abundant spray is continually falling. When we visited 
 this spot, at half past eleven o'clock, on June 22d, the sun 
 formed a rain-bow horizontally over this plateau, about a 
 foot from the ground. It surrounded us in a semicircle, of 
 a very short diameter, and, of course, moved with our move- 
 ments, presenting altogether a very striking appearance. 
 
 If you go from Utica to Lockport, by land, you have the 
 advantage of passing through a number of truly lovely places, 
 which seem quietly to flourish there in the west, under 
 the benign influence of the sun of liberty, shedding his 
 enlivening rays upon a blessed and fertile country. No 
 places in the world can make a finer impression, than Onon- 
 daga, Skaneateles, Auburn, (where you will not omit to visit 
 the State-Prison, though standing in bold contrast with the 
 smiling country around,) Geneva, and, before all, sweet Ca- 
 nandaigua; from here you must go to Rochester, a wonder 
 of the west, and then proceed either by the Ridge Road, or 
 by canal to Lockport. 
 
 The Ridge Road is very interesting in a geological 
 or topographic, or, I should say, in a hodological view, 
 to make a new word; because nature has acted here, for 
 once, as ingenieur des ponts et chaussees, and made a con- 
 venient and even road of gravel from Rochester to Lewis- 
 ton, a distance of eighty-seven miles; while, generally, she 
 wisely leaves the making of communications to man's ac- 
 tivity. Its general width is from four to eight rods. Near 
 the rivers Genessee and Niagara its elevation is from one 
 hundred and twenty to one hundred and thirty feet. This 
 height is also its elevation above Lake Ontario, from which 
 it is distant from six to ten miles. There is a regular and 
 
 may say, we live upon comparison; the processes of thinking-, of acquiring 
 knowledg-e, of obtaining even simple ideas — are founded upon comparison; 
 language subsists by comparison. But it is time, we must not abuse this 
 principle, which all limited minds are but too prone to do. It is the cheapest 
 kind of critique, — Editor. 
 
( 265 ) 
 
 gradual descent from the road to the lake, and no way of ac- 
 counting for this ridge seems to exist without supposing that 
 the surface of Lake Ontario was, at some former period, one 
 hundred and thirty feet higher than at present. There is 
 a similar ridge on the south side of Lake Erie, one hundred 
 and twenty miles long. 
 
 It was while travelling on this Ridge Road, that I asked 
 a farmer, who was one of my fellow passengers in the stage- 
 coach where he originally came from; for he had told me, in 
 the course of conversation, that he was not a native of the 
 state of New York, where he had now a farm. " Why, sir," 
 said the old man, " my wife is from Mansfield in Connecti- 
 cut." Two young friends of mine, of Boston, burst out 
 in a loud laugh; and I directly asked, ''And you, too, are 
 undoubtedly from New England?" He answered in the 
 affirmative. He was a fine, good-humored old man, who 
 had already invited me to stay a day or two with him. 
 He had been above twenty-five years in this state, yet he 
 had not got rid of the New England round-about-way of 
 answering, which has so often provoked me. This anec- 
 dote, I think, is still more characteristic than that which 
 Abbe Corea used to relate. He was travelling in New Eng- 
 land, and observed, at a distance, a fine blue flower. "My 
 boy," said he to a lad working in the field, "what's the 
 name of that blue flower?" " Why," answered the boy, 
 "that yellow flower is called cowslip." Here there was at 
 least some ignorance to be concealed, as the boy did not know 
 the name of the blue flower; but, in my case, nothing else 
 could induce my otherwise frank companion to give his spi- 
 ral answer, except the deep-rooted custom of the common 
 New England people, never to say or admit at once and 
 frankly "yes," "no," "this" or "that," but always to pre- 
 fix an " I believe," or to suffix an " I think," or some such 
 words. What would Fichte have said, in such a case; he 
 who wished, and not without some good reason, to excom- 
 municate the whole class of indetermijiative phrases, such 
 as, "as it were," "so to speak," "one might say," "in a 
 
( 266 ) 
 
 degree," "if I may say so/' the many "perhaps," "might," 
 " may be,"&c. So much is certain, that the less sound and 
 firm a writer, the more he resorts to these qualifying ex- 
 pressions. On the other hand, the adopted style of some 
 languages is much more timid than that of others. In the 
 same degree as the Americans and English are more apt to 
 adopt names and expressions of practical life in their wri- 
 tings than the Germans; they are more timid in using com- 
 parisons and metaphors; and you may use a hundred images 
 in German prose, which you cannot introduce into English 
 common writing without craving permission by a " so to 
 speak," or putting over the glowing word an extinguisher, 
 such as, " If I may use the expression." 
 
 I remember, soon after I had arrived in Boston, I asked a 
 man, whether he had the key of a garden, where the gym- 
 nasium was, with him. " I believe," he answered, and the 
 key was a big thing, large enough for a Briareus to have 
 known whether he had it or not in his pocket, and suffi- 
 ciently long to fight a duel with, as the students of Upsala 
 are said to fight them. It was long before I could accustom 
 myself to this unmanly phraseology. 
 
 There are in the idiom of New England, a number of, 
 what the first grammarian of the Yankee, will have to call 
 round-aboutives, such as, I suspect, imagine, suppose, believe, 
 judge, fancy, think, guess, reckon, calculate, conclude, rather 
 think, am of opinion, am inclined to think, should think, 
 should imagine, &c. , all used where there is no intention to 
 convey the idea of uncertainty. If this be the case, quite 
 different expressions are requisite. There are whole phrases 
 of a similar character, which it is not easy, at first, properly 
 to appreciate. If you ask a thorough Yankee any thing, and 
 he answers, " Hem, I don't know," the word know pro- 
 nounced with a rising voice, you don't know whether he 
 means " yes," or " no," or neither. If he answ^ers, " I don't 
 know," it means no; if he says, " I don't know that I shall," 
 he means to express doubt; but if he answers, " I don't know 
 but I shall," he means yes. The English, on the other hand. 
 
( 2G7 ) 
 
 continually throw in their — " you know," though it may 
 be a case where a man cannot possibly know any thing. 
 Thus, I was once conversing with an English gentleman, a 
 friend of mine, when, in the course of conversation, he made 
 me guess something. I answered rapidly, " I know," be- 
 lieving to have discovered the subject to which he referred, 
 when he replied, " You can't know, whether you know it, 
 you know." In the southern parts of Germany, the com- 
 mon people use the ivisseii's, (you know it,) in like man- 
 ner as conversational suffix, or inlerjix, if you want it more 
 accurately expressed. 
 
 In Rochester are some of the largest flour-mills in ex- 
 istence. It is really interesting to see, how here again, as 
 in all other cases, true art and knowledge si|nplify the sub- 
 ject. There is more flower made, in a much neater way, by 
 less expense and trouble, in one hour, in one of these mills 
 than within whole days, in several others. Some years ago, 
 I became acquainted with two millers, sent from Prussia, to 
 study these mills of the west. They were delighted with 
 them, and I suppose you know that Evans's Mill-wright's 
 Guide has been republished in England and translated in 
 France, probably in Germany too, and is altogether the 
 standard authority, among the gentry, who still keep to hair 
 powder. Thanks to him, who gave the decent, simple, fine 
 name of Rochester to this place, whoever he may be, or have 
 been. Perjury, was a crime so common with the old Franks, 
 that a man was lauded, for never having perjured himself, as 
 if he had been somewhat of a saint; so I think, ought those 
 individuals, who, in this part of the country, have the moral 
 courage to bestow a simple and proper name upon a place, 
 be held up for public veneration. 
 
 At Lockport, (another decent name,) you will do well to 
 take passage in a canal boat, after having examined the stairs, 
 which the locks form here. They are at the foot of the 
 Mountain Ridge, five in number, of twelve feet each, to 
 rise, and five others to descend. The whole is of fine work- 
 manship, and offers an interesting sight, when boats, full 
 
( 2GS ) 
 
 of people, goods, and live stock, are rising sixty feet, and 
 others close by, descending the same height. Between them, 
 are convenient steps, with iron railings. Above Lockport, 
 or, in fact, partly within the village, the cut begins, by which 
 the Grand Canal has been lead a distance of three miles, 
 at an average depth of twenty feet, through the rock of the 
 Mountain Ridge. Lockport, contains, at present, four thou- 
 sand inhabitants. 
 
 The native of New England is found here, as all over 
 the Union, chiefly, however, besides his own part of the 
 country, in all western states. It is remarkable how often 
 you are reminded in the course of your journey, of New 
 England activity. You see a large "academy building" 
 on the road, and ask your fellow travellers. Who keeps 
 it? Mr. Such-a-one. Where does he come from?" From 
 New England. You hear of a good country school-master: 
 you ask, which is his native state? A New England state. 
 You ask, who was the engineer of this rail-road, or that 
 canal? A New England man. Who keeps this tavern so well 
 in Rochester? A New England man. Where did this rich 
 farmer come from, who inherited nothing and has arrived 
 at immense wealth? He came from Connecticut. Many 
 of the most eminent lawyers and merchants, in different 
 cities of the Union, came originally from New England. If 
 you ask, who pursues the whale on the distant main, far up 
 to the north, and who goes " sealing " on the New Shetland 
 Islands? It is New England men. Who keeps up that brisk 
 coasting trade? the modest but most important part of ma- 
 rine commerce. New England captains command the vessels. 
 Who are the owners of this manufactory, which consumes so 
 large amount of domestic produce? New England men. 
 
 If you make out a list of the members of congress, and of 
 o-overnors of the new western states, according to their 
 birth places, you will find among them, a disproportionate 
 number of New England men. — And these are the worth- 
 less people of certain travellers! If they have ^vays and cus- 
 toms of their owm, which are not pleasing to a visiter, if those 
 
( 2G9 ) 
 
 among them who have not travelled are sometimes infatu- 
 ated as to their country and climate, they are, at worst, but 
 like most people. Besides, I reason from results. A people 
 who do what they do; who, at their elections, behave as they 
 do, must be considered a valuable part of our Union. Take 
 it away, and you slacken the bow-string. 
 
 In going to the west of New York, you have to pass 
 through the Genesee country, the delight of wheat-growing 
 farmers, and which reminded me of Gothe's exclamation, 
 when passing through Naples' happy fields and endless gar- 
 dens: Yes here it is worth the while to cultivate the ground. 
 
 Far from agreeing, as a politician, with those writers who 
 wish to see the right of representation attached to landed 
 property only — a system, which, at one time, when the 
 great mass of intelligence found a pretty fair standard in 
 landed property, was sound, but which the noble struggle 
 fought by the cities of the middle ages for all mankind, 
 ought to be considered as having dismantled for ever; and 
 equally far from agreeing as a political economist with that 
 school, which considers the cultivation of the soil as the only 
 source of national wealth — I, nevertheless, consider, both 
 in an historical and political view, the condition of the culti- 
 vator of the soil as invariably one of the most interesting 
 subjects which any nation can offer to our observation. 
 
 In America there is no peasant; I do not mean that there 
 is no bondsman, that is a matter of course; but the American 
 farmer forms no class by himself. He is a citizen to all in- 
 tents and purposes, not only as to political rights, but as to 
 his whole standing and social connexion. No views of his 
 own, no dress distinguish him, from the inhabitant of the 
 towns. He is no conipode, no rusticus, no Jaque Bon- 
 homme,* no villain, or boor. He is a farmer, and may be 
 rich or poor; that is all the difference. This circumstance 
 seems to me of great importance in our whole national orga- 
 
 • Conipode means dust-footer, a nick name g-iven by tiie inhabitants of 
 ancient Greek cities to the peasants; Jaque Bonhomme was the nickname 
 given by the French nobility to the pcasantiy, keeping quiet to be fleeced. 
 — Editor. 
 
( 270 ) 
 
 nization, and would alone account for numerous phenomena, 
 which foreigners often seem unable to explain. 
 
 The condition of the cultivator of the soil will always 
 afford one of the standards by which to estimate the gene- 
 ral amount of liberty enjoyed by a nation; at any rate, it 
 will always form an important item of the scale, and nearly 
 every peasant war, if at all of a general character, has been in 
 consequence of advancing civilization, whatever the appear- 
 ance of it may have been at the moment; however ferocious- 
 ly the peasant, — treated like a beast and breaking loose like a 
 beast, — may often act. We may turn with horror from the 
 revolting cruelties, which often, perhaps, generally have 
 stained these wars, yet not on one side alone; the masters 
 have shown as much cruelty as the insurgents, yet, as I 
 said, these insurrections have been nearly always in con- 
 sequence of the spreading of some general, broad ideas; 
 whatever may have been the immediate cause for the out- 
 breaking, whether it be of a religious, political or physical 
 character, only excepting mere accidental causes, such as 
 the cholera, and the consequent suspicion of the Hungarian 
 peasants. Often enough, it is true, their struggles have 
 ended by a total submission of the cultivator; hardly ever 
 has he risen from the lowest and most degraded state, with- 
 out a struggle, the fiercer, the more degraded the struggler 
 had previously been; until in modern times, concessions 
 have sometimes been made by the intelligence of the rulers 
 alone. Such was the abolition of all service attached to the 
 soil in Prussia. But whether Prussia would have been led 
 to this peaceable change at that time, without similar changes 
 having taken place in other countries, where they were ob- 
 tained after fearful contests only, is another question. The 
 rise in the scale of social and political existence, of the 
 farmer, is a much more melancholy subject than the gra- 
 dual rise of the mechanics and industrious commoner, but 
 of equal importance; and I repeat it, whatever cruelties of 
 the peasant we meet with in studying this subject, our opi- 
 nion of their masters will not be exalted, neither in Eng- 
 
( 271 ) 
 
 land, France, Germany, or Hungary. The Stellinger, the 
 ancient Saxon peasants, the peasants in Switzerland, in Nor- 
 mandy, in Jutland and Schonen, the Stedinger, these noble 
 Frisians, the Pastourcaux in the south of France, the Jac- 
 querie, the peasants under Wat Tyler, Ball and Straw, the 
 Curuczians or the Hungarian peasants under George Dosa — 
 all prove the truth of what I say. It has been long, and 
 after much, and, oftentimes, apparently unsuccessful strug- 
 gling, that the farmer has elevated himself throughout a 
 large country, to that station, which he now occupies. In- 
 stances do indeed exist, that in former times, the free pea- 
 sants of a small country were as jealous of their rights, 
 ready to defend them, and proud enough of their condition, 
 as the Ditmarsians, that intrepid and most noble band, which 
 nevertheless was doomed to perish. Yet in most cases the 
 farmer has either risen from actual slavery or servitude, to 
 independence; or he had been reduced from a state of a free 
 proprietor, to that of fettered and stinted ownership, by 
 long continued attacks of the stronger, by way of force or 
 fraud, and had to emerge again. 
 
 The American farmer generally owns the land he cul- 
 tivates in fee simple; what he gains is his. He is intelligent, 
 thinks, and knows how to converse on his affairs. I have 
 never received from one a stupid answer. He loves his coun- 
 try, yet has no especial attachment to the peculiar spot of 
 his birth, which, however, I believe nowhere exists in any 
 great degree, except where the farmer cannot move. If he 
 sees before him a noble country, where he can buy for a 
 dollar and a quarter an acre of ground, yielding abundant 
 crops and affording him the greatest pleasure a farmer 
 knows, that of seeing a fme soil willingly answer to his la- 
 bors, it would be strange indeed were he to remain on a jea- 
 lous earth, which seems to grudge the husbandman his well- 
 earned reward. A proof of this may be found in the emi- 
 gration by thousands and thousands of European peasants. 
 On the whole, the American fanners are a hardy and well- 
 disposed race. Homer's wise — 
 
( 272 ) 
 
 does not only continue to be true, but is also true reversed, 
 and Jove gives half of the virtue with liberty. 
 
 That you should not seek for refined and minute hus- 
 bandry among the farmers in the west, who have to plough 
 between the stumps, because the labor to dig them out 
 would cost more than would be gained from the spots thus 
 obtained, is evident; and that, moreover, the facility with 
 which a farmer can here obtain land, sometimes induces 
 him to commit the common fault of farmers, of husbanding 
 too much land, and thereby scattering his nnieans, you may 
 easily imagine. Bad as the soil is in the Mark Brandenburg, 
 I have still but little doubt that in many places the farmer 
 would obtain fair crops, could he be induced to abandon 
 part of his land and cultivate the rest with greater care. 
 The thirty years' war, which exterminated the inhabitants 
 of some whole villages, threw too much land into the hands 
 of the remainder. On the other hand, it is necessary to 
 travel but a short distance toward the west, in order to be 
 convinced how erroneous the frequent assertion is, that the 
 Americans are more a commercial nation than any thing 
 else; they are on the contrary, thus far essentially agricul- 
 tural, tliat not only the vastly greater part of them are 
 farmers, but also that their disposition is fitted for the farmer 
 life. Every American loves farming. In this the Ameri- 
 cans resemble the ancient Romans and the English, not the 
 Greeks, who never were famous farmers. 
 
 If I say, you should not seek for refined and minute hus- 
 bandry here, I speak of the west alone. In some parts of the 
 same state of New York, which have been settled for a long 
 time, and where the price of the land is not so exceedingly 
 low, if compared to the price of labour, farms are found which 
 
 * Half of the virtue of man is taken away by fui--sighted Jove, as soon as 
 the day of slavery begins. — Editoh. 
 
( 273 ) 
 
 are managed with minute care, in all the different branches 
 of husbandry; so that the farmer docs not only compete 
 with the cultivator of the soil in other countries, as to his 
 chief article — wheat, but even butter is cxjiorted in con- 
 siderable quantity from the farms along the Hudson or 
 near it. Some of the best butter, called Goshen butter, is 
 exported to Malta and other places of the Mediterranean, 
 where the best kind brings as much as a half-penny more 
 per pound than the best English or Irish butter. Thus I 
 have been told by a gdntlcman who had long resided in va- 
 rious ports of that sea. So wc go; American butter sent to 
 the shores of antiquity! 
 
 In the west of New York, probably, nine farms out of ten 
 are owned in fee simple, though many (perhaps, as much as 
 a third) are subject to mortgage. A lease is seldom for more 
 than ten years, and for a rent in kind, or money, or wheat 
 alone. The proportion of produce given as rent is, with 
 few exceptions, (I speak, here, always of the western part 
 of New York) one-third of the grain and one-half of the hay. 
 This proportion is delivered to the lessee, ready for market, 
 on or near the premises. On fine wheat land it amounts to 
 about ^2,50 per acre, for all the farm not in timber. Many 
 recent leases are at about $2 per acre, for the cleared land. 
 One-third or fourth of a farm is generally reserved in timber. 
 One hundred acres is the magnitude of fair farms. Those 
 persons who occupy less, carry on, besides, some trade, or 
 take jobs and work on larger farms; few farms exceed five 
 hundred acres. Many consider the largest farmers the best 
 cultivators; and the character of the cultivation is here, of 
 course, as every where else, governed by the relation be- 
 tween price of labor and price of land, as I said before. 
 Throughout the United States, as compared with Europe, 
 labor is dear and land cheap, and it is this which causes 
 difference in American cultivation and agricultural im- 
 provements, and not, as is not unfrequently supposed, a 
 want of industry or capacity for business in the agricultural 
 
 35 
 
( 274 ) 
 
 population. It is very obvious, that a farmer upon one of 
 the western prairies, who gives ^1,25 per acre for his land, 
 seventy-five cents per diem to his laborers, and gets for his 
 corn from ten to twenty cents per bushel, must adopt a dif- 
 ferent mode of agriculture from the European cultivator, who 
 pays for his land many pounds per acre, a few pence per 
 day to his laborers, and who gets for his products from ten 
 to twenty times as much as the western farmer. Reverse 
 the case, and let the English farmer pursue the American 
 mode of cultivation, and vice versa, and one would be ruined 
 about as soon as the other. Each must adapt himself to the 
 given circumstances, and only thus can prosper. At least 
 nine in ten of farm laborers in the west of New York, pur- 
 chase or lease farms by the time they are twenty-five years 
 of age. A majority of them go to the west, after having 
 accumulated from 200 to 500 dollars, and purchase govern- 
 ment lands. There are very few of the class of cottagers. 
 Those who are so, I have been told, are generally found im- 
 provident, incompetent to take care of their earnings, in- 
 temperate, or the victims of unusual misfortunes. There 
 are, as I said, few of them. The plough used throughout 
 the state of New York is the cast iron mould board plough, 
 patented by Wood, and found to answer better than any 
 which have been tried of a different construction. I send 
 you the drawing of it, the sacred weapon of the conquests 
 of civilization: it differs essentially from yours, is simple, and 
 seems to me very judiciously formed. 
 
 The American farmer appears to me, as a member of so- 
 ciety, superior to the farmers of other countries with which 
 I am acquainted; I mean the actual cultivators of the soil, 
 and of large countries, the population of which is nearly 
 equal in number to the inhabitants of the United States; 
 for there are spots in Europe where the farmer is certainly 
 superior in some respects to the American farmer in gene- 
 ral, for instance Aitenburg. I have not sufficient personal ac- 
 quaintance with the Englivsh common cultivator, but accord- 
 
( 275 ) 
 
 ing to what I know of him, and to conclude from various 
 circumstances, I should believe him not to be superior. So 
 I consider the American mechanic, intelligent, industrious, 
 and well-disposed in general. They, like the rest of man- 
 kind, labor sometimes under delusions and seek to redress 
 evils, such as a diminution of demand of their articles, by 
 means which, by this time, experience ought to have ex- 
 ploded; but I hold my remark to be true, in general. 
 
 The degree of physical comfort and mental development, 
 in which the two large classes of a nation live — those en- 
 gaged in husbandry and the common mechanics, is of so 
 vital an interest to society, and a clear knowledge of it so 
 indispensable for the formation of a correct idea of a nation, 
 that it has appeared to me necessary to reduce those vague 
 expressions, as, " the farmer of such a country is a superior 
 being;" "a greater stock of ideas is to be found among them;" 
 " the mechanic of such a country is more intelligent," and 
 others of the kind, to distinct nations, if we be at all de- 
 sirous of comparing two countries, decidedly different in 
 their character. You do not believe that I am guilty of the 
 sin of statistical temerity, which declares that there is " but 
 one prophet and one truth" — the tabulary form, and acts as 
 if the most delicate relations of the human society were 
 tangible by numerical calculations; but, on the other hand, 
 you know also both my conviction, that in no case in which 
 an extensive subject lies before us, we can hope for any de- 
 gree of accuracy in our knowledge, without analyzing the 
 matter and abandoning wholesale thoughts and phrases, and 
 the great value I put upon the collection of any statistical 
 data, on whatever subject it be (and, were we in possession 
 of a correct statement of the number of carious teeth in a 
 large place, or how many pints of tears have been poured 
 forth in a year, or how often people have given their most 
 decided opinion on subjects they do not know, or how many 
 books have been read, and how few thoughts been gained, 
 &c., — all these would furnish valuable data to a Guerry or 
 
( 276 ) 
 
 Quetelet: and altogether, I think, could we but arrive at 
 domestic statistics, they would prove more important than 
 those relating to national affairs.) 
 
 I have, therefore, endeavored to analyze the physical and 
 mental life of these classes into its component parts, and 
 thus tried to arrive at a more definite knowledge. I will not 
 give you here the tables which I have drawn up for this 
 purpose, because a statistical work would be a fitter place for 
 them, and you shall have them sooner or later. I will but 
 give you an idea of them, so that you may decide whether 
 I am likely to have arrived at the truth in judging of the 
 American farmer and mechanic. 
 
 The first division is Physical Comfort; some of the 
 most important items under this head are, what constitutes 
 the great bulk of nourishment, (potato, rye, wheat, or rice 
 &c. ;) and is it the same food with that of the better classes 
 or of a totally different substance? how often do people eat 
 meat, what is their chief beverage (beer, wine, grog, &c. ;) 
 clothing, (of what does it consist? what is it worth? &c.;) 
 Domestic Comfort; what houses do they live in, crowded or 
 not? cleanliness; in what station is the woman? &c. 
 
 If I speak of dear or cheap &c., I always use these terms 
 with reference to the value of a common day's labor, as 
 unit, and with reference to a comparison of this value of 
 a day's labor, to the daily expenses of an individual, con- 
 sidered in a common comfortable situation. 
 
 Further questions are, whether the people are generally 
 good looking, of what race, and whether peculiar in an 
 anatomical view. Then comes the State of Agriculture, 
 whether quite rude, whether improved, whether the results 
 of science are continually applying to it, or stationary; 
 whether utensils are home-made or bought; cattle, &c. Are 
 there societies for its furtherance, or not, &c. 
 
 Character. Cowardly or courageous; open and manly, 
 independent, gay or morose, fond of drinking, hunting, love 
 of country: seafaring men, mountaineers; whether provident 
 or not, &c. 
 
( 277 ) 
 
 Civil State. Participation in government, justice, &c.; 
 criminal laws; corvees, military laws; castes, or equality. 
 
 Intellectual State. Education, reading, writing, &c., of 
 males and females; at whose expense the schools are kept; 
 poetry, whether acquainted with national poetry or not, ro- 
 mances, &c.; music; knowledge in general; reflective; inven- 
 tive; whether they form a progressing society or a stationary, 
 striving for improvement; are the history and the laws of 
 the country generally known; division of labor; public 
 amusement; love of dance; is there much police of govern- 
 ment; colors of dress, and whether national; influence of 
 clergy, and their condition and learning; knowledge of va- 
 lue of time; state of medicine; popular belief in supernatural 
 powers, &c. 
 
 This may serve to give you a very general idea of my 
 plan and tables. More I do not attempt to offer you here. 
 The last division contains more especially those ideas, for 
 the amount of which we have to inquire, in order to ascer- 
 tain more clearly the intellectual state of a given tribe; I 
 mean, for instance, the ideas of right and wrong (how dif- 
 ferent are these in a Bushman, a Turk, an American) of 
 attachment to the soil and society; (wandering, hunting, set- 
 tled community, lively interest in the welfare of the com- 
 munity, public spirit,) value of time (Indian, Turk, Span- 
 iard, Englishman;) family attachment and care for the 
 young; combination of forces and division of labor (Pata- 
 gonian, numerous companies in England and here;) fine 
 arts, taste, &c.; religion, &c. 
 
 After this test, I have given my above opinion of the 
 American farmer, though he is, with regard to some items 
 enumerated above, very deficient, and far inferior to the 
 Italian husbandman for instance. But in order to ascertain 
 how near I have come to the truth, more is necessary than 
 the mere observation of outward signs. What are out- 
 ward signs! deceptive indeed, if not well and cautiously 
 weighed. Suppose a foreigner goes to the continent of Eu- 
 rope; the first tiling which strikes him may be an odd title. 
 
( 278 ) 
 
 conscientiously pronounced each time that the name of the 
 person is mentioned, who perhaps wears a little riband in 
 his button-hole, such as in the country of the traveller chil- 
 dren only, and that but very young ones, would dare to wear. 
 Would he be warranted in setting down the whole people as a 
 childish race, which pays attention to such unmanly decora- 
 tions? He may read in the official paper of some govern- 
 ment, that a certain counsellor in a distant provincial place, 
 received a snuff-box with diamonds from his monarch, that 
 he placed it on a table in his house, and invited all his ac- 
 quaintance to come and view it. The traveller may, with 
 perfect propriety, compare the account of this affair with a 
 similar one, in the Peking Gazette, in which the public are 
 informed, that Governor Lee of Canton has received the 
 peacock feather; that it was placed in the great audience 
 room of the gubernatorial palace, and there received the 
 honor due to this sign of imperial grace and -favor. 
 
 But would our foreigner be justified in going farther in the 
 comparison of the two governments, nations and countries? 
 That man who wears the little riband in his button-hole or 
 who lays out the snuff-box for the admiration of his friends, 
 may be a man of independent character, zealously working 
 for the true benefit of his country, — perhaps (it happens 
 often, indeed,) despising these very signs, while the monarch 
 who bestows them, knows, too, that by no means always the 
 most worthy obtain them. Yet he uses them as a means, 
 following the advice of Horace, with a slight modification: 
 Misce stuUitiam pecunise brevem.; and — such things often 
 are connected with a thousand extraneous matters, from 
 which it is impossible to disentangle them in the moment. 
 Every form of government has its sham, though, undoubt- 
 edly with some there is a far greater quantity of it than with 
 others. 
 
 During my tour through this part of the Union, I remarked 
 again what had always struck me as peculiar to this coun- 
 try, wherever I have travelled in it — the absence of crip- 
 ples. Here there are no hunch-backed sextons as in Italy, 
 
( 259 ) 
 
 no deformed hostlers, no lame in the street. Are such 
 persons merely removed from the observation of the tra- 
 veller, or are, in general, families better able to provide for 
 these unhappy beings, so that their misfortunes arc not so 
 much exposed to the view of any but their friends? We 
 cannot account in this way for the rare sight of deformed 
 persons in the United States. Deformity is actually of com- 
 paratively rare occurrence. Any inquiry into the subject 
 will show the fact. On the continent of Europe deformed 
 persons are not of very rare occurrence, even in the better 
 classes; here they are nearly unknown. 
 
 Whether the comparative ease of child-birth in this 
 country can be considered as one of the causes of the 
 fact in question, I do not know; but, in my opinion, it 
 certainly does not form the chief one; the two following 
 causes are, perhaps, the true ones. In the first place, the 
 Americans have, in a considerable degree, adopted the 
 English treatment and management of infants, in which, as 
 in every thing else appertaining to physical education, the 
 English so vastly excel the nations of the European con- 
 tinent The free play, which is allowed to every limb of 
 an English baby, together with the whole treatment, con- 
 tributes certainly not a little to the formation of those fine 
 figures we meet with in England. A hundred unhappy 
 ways of incasement, and of fettering the tender limbs of the 
 young creatures, together with the most injurious systems 
 of nourishment, are yet common on the continent of Europe, 
 especially with the lower classes. Whoever has seen the 
 infant of a German or Italian peasant, and does not declare 
 that its remaining alive in spite of all parental care and love, 
 proves that man is made of the toughest material in the uni- 
 verse, as if in him the durability of glass had been united 
 to the pliability of Indian rubber, can be no lover of truth. 
 
 Secondly, American parents seldom leave their young 
 children entirely without capable attendants, or under the 
 care of children but a little older than the infants themselves. 
 
( 280 ) 
 
 » 
 
 You rarely see here a child of two years dragged about by 
 a little sister of perhaps ten, and both in danger of de- 
 formity, the one by being exposed to falls, the other by car- 
 rying a burden much too heavy for .its yet undeveloped 
 limbs. 
 
 It might be thought that at a later age, American children 
 are quite as much exposed to accidents, calculated to induce 
 deformity, as with us; for a more independent, and, I may 
 add, more daring race, than that of American boys, I think 
 does not exist. Climbing, riding, driving, sailing, shooting, 
 are arts which they cultivate with great zeal and boldness. 
 Perhaps this very independence at this age, contributes to 
 make them better fitted to take care of themselves, and to 
 escape unhurt, where others would be injured. Yet I would 
 not give much for this argument; for the obvious reason, 
 that deformity may be brought on by a single mishap, such 
 as these independent boys daily run the risk of. 
 
 I like American boys very much; there are a frankness 
 and boldness about them, which please me greatly. They 
 are, when very young, not unfrequently fine looking, and it 
 appears to me that, in this respect, the Americans are like 
 the Jews. Their children are beautiful, and again, their old 
 men are fine looking, because the good looks of Jews and 
 Americans consist much more in the delineations of the 
 bones, than in any thing else; their young and middle aged 
 men, therefore, do not strike me as generally good looking. 
 A set of less attractive faces than those you meet with in 
 some of the northern houses of representatives, can hardly 
 be imagined. So hollow, care-worn, and looking almost as 
 sour as their cider actually is. 
 
 Speaking of babies, I was reminded of a little thing well 
 bandaged from chin to toe, which, during my residence in 
 Gensano, near Rome, a woman used to bring to an old cob- 
 bler, who worked in the noblest workshop I ever yet have 
 seen — under heaven's canopy. The baby was provided 
 with two bands, fastened like leading strings, and near the 
 
( 281 ) 
 
 proud cobbler, who " mended bad soles " right opposite my 
 window, was an iron hook; on this the woman would hang her 
 baby by the leading strings, with a, " Come sla, amico mioV^ 
 " Benone, graziuy cava mia grazia,''^ said the light-hearted 
 disciple of St. Crispin, who continued to hammer and sing 
 away, while the little thing was hanging from the hook, 
 dangling about and crying, its shoulders bent forward, and 
 its arms hanging perpendiculaly down, as if it had been the 
 intention of the mother to teach the child the position of a 
 higher and more conspicuous hanging. After the child had 
 screamed for a while, as if near its end, the mother would 
 return from her errand or labor, and ask, " Well, my dear 
 neighbor, how has the hamhina been?" — "C/h' agnella^ 
 signora cava, una colombina,''^ would the cobbler reply, ^ 
 
 having, perhaps, actually not heard the child bawling, as if 
 its lungs had been made of the remains of a pair of black- 
 smith's bellows. 
 
 When I visited the Riesengebirge,* I once entered the 
 log-house of one of the graziers, who live in the highest 
 parts of this chain of mountains, and feed their cattle on the 
 short but fine grass growing on what the Tyrolese call Kds 
 and the Swiss JilpsA When I entered, I observed nobody 
 in the room, but in one corner I saw a cradle, moving, ap- 
 parently, without a rocking agent. Was I within enchanted 
 walls? I approached the cradle, and a healthy looking baby 
 was enjoying in it a sound sleep, its round little head moving 
 and rolling on the pillow from one side to the other. Far- 
 ther inquiry showed me that far from all the machine stir- 
 ring world, a second Arkwright dwelt here on the mountain 
 top; for the father of the baby had used, with great ingenu- 
 ity, the rushing stream, which every grazier in this part 
 leads through his dairy-room to keep his cream and butter 
 
 • The chain of mountaina in Silesia. — Editor. 
 
 -}• Kas in Tyrol, and Alps in Switzerland, signify those small patches in the 
 high mountains on which that fine grass grows, which is almost as thin as 
 hair, and affords excellent pasture for dairy cattle. — Editok. 
 
 36 
 
( 282 ) 
 
 fresh, as the moving agent of the cradle. I defy any Yan- 
 kee, with all his ingenious " improvement " of " water pri- 
 vileges," to beat our countryman here. Truly, I thought 
 this looked like coming pretty near to the time when chil- 
 dren are to be baptized by steam. 
 
( 283 ) 
 
 LETTER XV. 
 
 Buffalo, the western point of termination of the Grand 
 Canal,* is an interesting place, both for its situation on Lake 
 Erie, and its rapid growth, which it bids fair to continue for 
 a long time. It is astonishing to see wide streets (a little 
 too wide, indeed, like those of Washington) of handsome 
 and high houses of the best appearance, where but a few 
 years ago an inconsiderable village was all that was to be 
 seen. 
 
 What is to be done, my dear friend, if the plan of a place 
 is at once to be laid out? Wherever I have seen towns 
 built according to a regular plan, they seemed to be failures, 
 contrivances which look very well on paper, or sound well 
 if you hear them described, but are very different in reality. 
 From the concentric circles of Carlsruhe to the compound 
 plan of Washington, all these places have a thousand incon- 
 veniences in practice, and as to the rectangular plan, on 
 which Philadelphia, Mannheim, and many places here and 
 in Europe are laid out — taste, in matters of this kind, is no 
 subject of discussion, but I dislike the eternal sameness of this 
 plan, if the place be of any considerable magnitude, particu- 
 larly if to the rectangular prose be joined the abstract numbers 
 
 • Of this, as of all other canals and rail-roads, a brief, but instructive de- 
 scription is contained in " A brief Uescription of the Canals and Rail-roads 
 ofthe United States, 8s.c. By H. S. Tanner. Philadelphia, 1834." This 
 small work is a useful addition to Mr. Tanner's large map of tlic United States, 
 in four sheets. — Euitoh. 
 
( 284 ) 
 
 in the appellation of the streets. Man is a systematizing being, 
 systematizing is, in part, thinking itself. Hence his fondness 
 for seeing principles carried througli; but very often princi- 
 ples only sound well, because they appear simple, while ap- 
 plied, they offer little for approbation. Such is to me the rule 
 after which the Philadelphia streets are called. I have a pe- 
 culiarly good sense of locality, and never lost my way in a fo- 
 reign place, with the only exception of Philadelphia, where 
 to this day I am continually ol)ligcd to ask, "What street 
 is this; seventh, eighth, ninth?" while directions given to 
 me, escape my mind much easier than those in other places, 
 owing to the character of generality attached to all these 
 numbered streets; and, as to the numbers combined with the 
 letters of the alphabet, as in Washington, they require a 
 man born for a mathematician, to remember these viatic for- 
 mulas. A man may just as well remember 
 
 Cotang : (180°— «) = —Cot. : «, 
 as Mrs. So and So's, on the N. W. corner of B and Sixth 
 and a Half streets. 
 
 Before I entered the city of Buflalo, close to it I found an 
 instance which very strikingly exemplified the immense 
 power which custom exercises. I saw a farmer's house 
 built of stone, and having the appearance of being owned by 
 a man of substantial wealth, yet, though of brick and spa- 
 cious, it was built on the Westphalian plan, the cattle and 
 horses standing with their heads turned into the barn, at the 
 end of which are the hearth and sitting-room of the family. 
 Here the farmer bad the examples of much more convenient 
 farm houses around him, he had all the means of imitating 
 them, yet he followed a \^hln which originated in times when 
 neither cleanliness, health, safety, nor even interest was 
 made a subject of unjjrejudiced reasoning, and improve- 
 ments were but rarely made. Thus the migrating nations 
 in the beginning of the middle ages, carried a thousand cus- 
 toms with them into countries for which they were not cal- 
 culated. 
 
 In the liotel the foMowinsi; card was given to me: — 
 
( 285 ) 
 
 
 STEAMBOAT UNITED KINGDOM, 
 
 
 
 AND emigrant's GUIDE. 
 
 
 
 miles. 
 
 S. d. 
 
 Distance from Quebec to Montreal, - - 180 S. Boat 
 
 7 7 
 
 (( u 
 
 Montreal to Prescott, - - 140 D. Boat 
 
 6 3 
 
 
 r Prescott to Kingston, - - 70 S. Boat 
 
 5 
 
 10s. 
 
 < Kingston to Toronto, - - 180 " 
 
 7 6 
 
 
 ( Toronto to Quccnston, - 41 " 
 
 5 
 
 
 Queenston to Chippawa, - 10 Wagon 
 
 2 6 
 
 20s. 
 
 Chippawa to Port Stanley, 150 S. Boat 15 
 Port Stanley to Sandwich, 150 " 15 
 Sandwich to the entrance 
 
 of Lake Huron, - - - 70 " 7 6 
 Entrance of Lake Huron 
 
 toGoderich, - - - - 75 " 7 6 
 
 1,03G £3 18 9 
 
 What distances and cheapness! The steamboat which I 
 found here for Chicoga, I think I have already mentioned; 
 in fine, distances are not considered in this country as in 
 Europe; if they were, we should not have crept much be- 
 yond the Allegany mountains by this time. And what is 
 the reason that a thousand miles in the United States are not 
 as much as a thousand miles in Europe? There are several 
 reasons for it, in my opinion. First, The early settlers had 
 to think of many thousand miles off, whenever they thought 
 of their beloved home. Thus, a far different unit by which 
 to estimate other distances, was laid down in their minds. It 
 is clear, that a person settling a hundred miles from them, 
 could not appear far away to those who had their original 
 home some thousand miles off; and, although a generation 
 born on this continent soon grew up, their relations to Eu- 
 rope still continued to be of such a character that all consi- 
 dered themselves intimately connected with her; and even 
 to this day, we feel that, as to every thing in science and 
 civilization, we are closely connected with Europe; and n 
 
( 286 ) 
 
 lady in New York thinks no more of going to Havre or Li- 
 verpool than a lady in London of going to Paris. 
 
 This feeling, together with the vast unsettled continent 
 before them, induced people to push on and settle at great 
 distances, especially as the life of the early colonists was 
 such as to develop a daring spirit of enterprise, which gra- 
 dually has settled down into a fixed trait of American cha- 
 racter. General Moreau, when residing in this country, — 
 so said a French gentleman, an acquaintance of mine, — be- 
 lieved that no soldier would be equal to an American, if 
 well and thoroughly disciplined; (to be sure, the present 
 militia would require some "rubbings,") because, said he, 
 "An American doubts of nothing." It was true what Mo- 
 reau observed, that an American doubts of nothing; some- 
 times owing to enterprising boldness, sometimes to want of 
 knowledge or to self-confidence, always, in a measure, to the 
 fact, that want of success in an enterprise is not followed in 
 the United States by obloquy or ridicule, even though the 
 undertaking may have been injudicious. This, though often 
 calculated to mislead, is, on the whole, an excellent thing; 
 and, even supposing a man to have miscalculated his strength 
 in one attempt, he may take better care the next time.* 
 
 This spirit of enterprise and adventure pushed new set- 
 tlers far into all directions; a consequence of which is, that 
 we now dwell in a vast country, inhabited by people of 
 the same language, and living under the same laws — ano- 
 ther reason why distances appear shorter to us. The com- 
 paratively small number of mountain chains is a third 
 cause of the same singular fact. As we require objects by 
 which to judge distances, — thus, for instance, objects, seen 
 over a wide expanse of water, appear nearer to us, than 
 when the view lies across an equally extensive tract of 
 land, — so a distance by land, if we have to pass through 
 many different languages and governments, and over moun- 
 tains, appears to us greater than if no such intervening ob- 
 jects existed. In the Atlantic states, people are, besides, so 
 
 * " Or he may not," as one of Mr. Mathew's characters says. — Editor. 
 
( 287 ) 
 
 familiar with voyages to Canton, the Pacific, Buenos Ayres, 
 &c., that I have seen in Europe more bustle in a family, a 
 member of which was going to a university, perhaps some 
 sixty miles off, than I have here when the son or brother 
 was embarking for China or the Manillas. The steam- 
 boats, — which greatly facilitate travelling, the population 
 being scattered over so vast a country, — and the migratory 
 disposition of the American in general, originally caused 
 by the above given reasons, contribute, in turn, their full 
 part to the production of the same effect. The next nation 
 after the Americans in this respect are the English, whose 
 possessions in all quarters of the globe would make them 
 consider distances as still less than the Americans, were 
 their own country not itself so very confined. Every mile 
 has there its full value. 
 
 Not distances alone are measured here by a standard dif- 
 ferent from that of other countries; time, too, receives a dif- 
 ferent value, but it is measured by a smaller standard than 
 in Europe. An American wants to perform within a year 
 what others do within a much longer period. Ten years in 
 America are like a century in Spain. The United States 
 really change in some respects more within ten years, than 
 a country like Spain has within a hundred. England moves,, 
 in all practical affairs, quicker than the continent: the United 
 States move quicker still, in some respects, than England. 
 There are many reasons for this more rapid movement which 
 I will not oblige you to read; let me only observe, that it 
 influences all relations of life. According to recent state- 
 ments, a female servant in London remains, on average, four 
 hundred and sixty-two days in the same situation. I have 
 no doubt, that, if similar accounts could be obtained from 
 Germany, we would find that they remain much longer 
 there in the same place, and the corresponding period in 
 New York would average much less. Sometimes indivi- 
 duals long for a stationary country, where things remain in 
 their place for some time, and where one does not feel all 
 the time as if tied to the wing of a windmill. This desire 
 
( 288 ) 
 
 is very natural : whether they would be pleased by a change 
 for a long time or not, is quite a different question. For 
 the rest — the choice is not with the nations. There are, at 
 present, two classes of nations, which, in all your inquiries, 
 you must strictly distinguish from each other; namely, 
 moving nations and stationary nations. The former would 
 be utterly ruined, were they to counteract their own im- 
 petus. I speak here chiefly of industry, and diffusion and 
 application of knowledge. This movement has become 
 with them one of the "historical tasks" which they have 
 to perform. They must have steamboats, though a sail- 
 ing boat may grace the landscape a thousand times more: 
 they must have rail-roads, though travelling on them be 
 
 a dull thing. And — "You know," as Professor 
 
 in Berlin used to say, when, in the overflow of his ideas, 
 he could not wait to finish his sentence, but hurried to 
 other subjects, which were crowding his fertile and abun- 
 dant mind. Now, his overflowing of ideas corresponds, in 
 my case, to the scantiness of paper and time, and the ferti- 
 lity of his mind, perhaps, to my paucity. 
 
 I happened to find, here in Buffalo, an English paper in 
 which the writer of a pretty able article calls upon the 
 Americans to imitate England, as to the late emancipa- 
 tion of her slaves, and declares that it would be astonish- 
 ing if the United States, were not to free their slaves, as 
 they have now only to follow the brilliant example of their 
 once mother country — a language which it was easy to fore- 
 see, would soon become common. In some English papers, 
 I had previously seen even amalgamation hinted at, and 
 once openly demanded as a necessary measure. Let us 
 calmly and fearlessly look at a few prominent points of 
 this vast subject You may easily imagine, that it cannot 
 be my intention to enter here fully into a question of so 
 grave and momentous a character; it would require a trea- 
 tise, a thorough inquiry, rather than a few considerations 
 thrown out in a letter; yet having occupied myself much 
 with this subject, of absorbing importance throughout his- 
 
( 2S9 ) 
 
 tory and in our own times, I think, I may place before yoa 
 a few considerations, which will aid you in forming a more 
 correct opinion upon the matter. 
 
 In the abstract, I hold slavery to be, — philosophically, 
 an absurdity, (man cannot become property.) — morally a 
 bane both to the slave and his owner; — historically, a direct 
 violation of the spirit of the times we live in, and, with 
 regard to public economy, a great malady, to any society 
 at all advanced in industry. I neither allow with Achilla 
 Murat, son to the late King of Naples, that slavery is for 
 the present condition of our southern states, a highly desira- 
 ble state of things, and conducive to the greatest advantage 
 of society (he does not speak of pecuniary advantages,) nor 
 do I at all agree with Duden, a German author, who, in his 
 Report on a Journey to the Western States of the North 
 American Union, in 1824 to 1827, inclusive — a work which 
 contains some very valuable information, whenever the au- 
 thor abstains from political and historical disquisitions — sup- 
 poses himself to have very nicely demonstrated, that a so- 
 ciety has a full right to declare on what conditions it will 
 admit other people, and how it will treat them in future, to 
 make them incapable of participating in government, if the 
 original society think fit to dictate in what relation of depend- 
 ence they are to be placed, who, in short, sees no objection on 
 the ground of justice to slavery, and altogether forgets, that 
 the idea of right between men, cannot, by any possibility, be 
 established, except on the idea of mutual duties and ob- 
 ligations. He has recourse, in order to make out his case, to 
 the relation of a father of a family to his children, as nearly 
 every one does, who wishes to make out of a state of things 
 founded on force, a state founded on reason, always for- 
 getting that hardly two things in the world can be more 
 different than family and state; the one based on instinct, 
 love and forbearance, the other on justice, law, and right; 
 the one to the end of the preservation of the species; 
 which we have partly in common with the animals, the 
 other in no degree whatever. Thrice unhappy comparisoir, 
 
 37 
 
( 290 ) 
 
 entailed on us from ages when every thing in politics was 
 poorly defined: which has served the legitimatist and slave- 
 dealer, the absolutist and the ambitious priest, as a cloak for 
 sordid plans! 
 
 I must observe, however, that I hardly ever found a na- 
 tive American who attempted to palliate slavery in prin- 
 ciple; they say, as in fact the matter stands, slavery exists; 
 what are we to do with it. In one single instance, only, I 
 have met with an attempt to represent slavery as something 
 quite the thing, on the ground of the relation between ser- 
 vant and master, being comparable to that between child and 
 father, the "noble Romans," and the Old Testament, being 
 likewise adduced as evidence, that slavery is not so bad. 
 This mauvaise plaisanterie, to call it by the mildest term, 
 was contained in an article of one of our reviews. Heaven 
 preserve us from Roman liberty, and if we are to take the Old 
 Testament as a code of legal relations, we had better create 
 ourselves Jews surrounded by heathens at once, and adopt 
 all their laws and social relations. Moreover, the author 
 did not even know what was signified with the Jews, by sla- 
 very, which was an institution, very different from what he 
 supposes. In order to become acquainted with the spirit of 
 the slaveholders themselves, in our Union, you ought to read 
 the interesting debates on this subject in the late Virginia 
 convention, which had assembled to make some changes in 
 the constitution of that state. They have been collected 
 into one volume, which appears to me to be one of the most 
 interesting works with regard to the history of man, and 
 practical morality. 
 
 I will grant even more than you might perhaps, suppose 
 me willing to do, after my general remarks at the begin- 
 ning of these reflections. Whether the African race ever 
 will have among them a Shakspeare, a Charlemagne, or 
 Aristotle, I know not; nor is it necessary to know this, in 
 order to settle the question as to their political capacity for 
 participating in all civil rights and duties. There are many 
 respectable colored persons with us, and I believe none will 
 
( 291 ) 
 
 conscientiously deny that, when fiiirly educated, they stand 
 on quite as high a level of mental development as the lowest 
 of the whites, who are nevertheless admitted to a full par- 
 ticipation in all political privileges; nor that the question 
 under consideration would ever have been started, did the 
 African race not differ from ourselves in color. One way of 
 testing the comparative capability of the two classes, is to try 
 colored and white servants. The mental as well as physical 
 difference between the white and black races, have formed a 
 subject to which I have directed my attention ever since I 
 came to this country; and I will communicate to you a few 
 observations, not as supporting any of my statements — I dis- 
 claim entering here fully into the subject — but merely as 
 detached facts, interesting in themselves. 
 
 State prisons, where a large number of colored and white 
 people are kept under the close observance of intelligent 
 men, and have to obey the same laws, to perform the same 
 duties, and live upon the same diet, seemed to me to afford 
 a peculiarly favorable opportunity of ascertaining certain 
 facts relating to this subject. There are, of about eight 
 hundred convicts in the penitentiary at Singsing, about two 
 hundred individuals of color. The physician of the prison 
 from whom I obtained my information, had not found that 
 there was any striking difference between the diseases of 
 the blacks and the whites, nor did they assume any different 
 character in their course. I have been assured of the same 
 by experienced physicians in large cities. However, as the 
 colored people resort to quacks, perhaps even more than 
 the whites of the poorer classes, and have sometimes phy- 
 sicians of their own color, closer examination would be still 
 required to state any thing definite on this point. 
 
 It is for ever to be regretted that Doctor Spurzheim died so 
 early. This able anatomist and observer of the configuration 
 of the head, told me that one of the chief subjects of inquiry 
 which he had laid out to himself in coming to this country, 
 was to investigate the physical difference between the two 
 races and to settle something definite on this point. He in- 
 
( 292 ) 
 
 tended to proceed to our southern states, and to make as 
 many observations as possible on living and dead subjects. 
 I trust that some able anatomist will take up the subject. It 
 is a field where a fair name is yet to be won, and the con- 
 sequences of a thorough inquiry into the minutest details of 
 this subject might be of incalculable effect. 
 
 As to moral difference between the prisoners of the two 
 colors in the above mentioned penitentiary, it is a curious 
 fact that in general the colored j^eople behave themselves 
 better; they are more orderly, follow the laws more wil- 
 lingly, and work more steadily. The superintendent of 
 that state-prison, a gentleman of much intelligence, and who 
 bestowed unwearied attention to my often repeated and 
 troublesome inquiries both in person and by letter, did 
 not attempt to explain the fact; he merely stated it as such, 
 and as such I give it. Whatever reasons may be given for 
 it, it deserves our attention. At one time, when I was 
 walking with him through the building and we had entered 
 one of the cells, after having given me some information 
 on certain points of its architecture, he looked round and 
 said, " 1 am sure this cell belongs to a colored man." " Why 
 so?" said I. " Because every thing looks neater, better ar- 
 ranged." On inquiry, we found that his surmise was cor- 
 rect. I was greatly surprised, and lie then told me, that a 
 colored prisoner will generally keep his cell in more snug 
 order than a white man. Equally interesting is the fact, 
 that more colored people ask for admission to the Sunday- 
 school of the prison, and for instruction in reading, than 
 white people; speaking merely of the proportion of indi- 
 viduals of both colors, who have no knowledge of reading. 
 
 I allow all this, but the question is not an abstract one; 
 not whether we shall introduce slavery or not, but — slavery 
 existing — what shall be done with it? Fanaticism, which 
 like Procrustes, stretches or chops the body of the question 
 in hand, according to the measure of its own preconceived 
 ideas, or has no other means to untie a Gordian knot, than 
 by cutting it, cuts this matter also short. Emancipate, is 
 
( 293 ) 
 
 their short prescription of remedies for the disease. And 
 if you ask, what will become of the emancipated? Amalga- 
 mation, is the drug by which they think to perfect the cure. 
 But a statesman, who knows that countless evils are in- 
 variably produced by solving from a partial view of the 
 case, a question which has two aspects, e. g. a political 
 and a religious, or a commercial and a political, — by making 
 ourselves voluntarily blind to the other view, will not de- 
 cide so hastily. 
 
 Suppose, for argument's sake, that all the slave owners 
 would be induced to emancipate their slaves to-day; or that 
 the non-slave-holding states were willing to pay annually a 
 large sum by way of compensation to the slave-holders, and 
 that gradual emancipation could be thus effected. What 
 would be the consequence? We should have a large in- 
 crease of free colored population, which, if we choose, 
 might be politically as free as any class of our citizens. 
 What would be gained? Political equality is of very little 
 value compared to social equality. A race, socially de- 
 graded, or, let us not call it degraded, one excluded from 
 general society, and consequently from the broad course 
 of civilization, is in a state of real suffering, and will neces- 
 sarily generate in its bosom all kinds of vices and crimes. 
 History affords us many instances to this effect. It is of no 
 use whatever to be, in the eye of the law, equal to all 
 others, if you are socially disabled, except you hope to at- 
 tain social disfranchisement by means of the former. The 
 free colored race, the existence of which the argument sup- 
 poses is large in number, would then remain an oppressed 
 and degraded race, as long as they were not socially eman- 
 cipated. Hence would arise, in order to obtain a real state 
 of freedom for the emancipated slave, the necessity of 
 amalgamation; by which I mean social intercourse as well 
 as intermarriage: the latter would indeed be soon the con- 
 sequence of the former. Two different races, equally free, 
 and equally elevated in the social scale, hence equally cul- 
 tivated, and yet distinctly separated, cannot be imagined. 
 
( 294 ) 
 
 Whoever does it, has other views of mankind, and learnt 
 other lessons from history than myself. Whether this be 
 founded upon prejudice or not, is not here the question; the 
 prejudice is at any rate so founded in human nature that it 
 would not depend upon us to change its effects. 
 
 Here then we have already arrived at the barrier, which 
 will make it for ever inexpedient to follow the course in 
 question, of restoring the wronged race of slaves to their 
 natural rights among us, where their number is large. That 
 a Montesquieu, and other writers of his age, ridiculed the 
 idea of making a difference of color the ground of a sub- 
 stantial difference in caste, treating the color of a human 
 race as they would that of an inanimate object, of which it 
 may form an unessential quality, was but natural, since 
 enormous wrongs and cruelties were at that time heaped 
 upon the African race, and palliated on the score of differ- 
 ence in color. But the matter presents itself in a different 
 light to one who now lives surrounded by the children of 
 this family. It is easy to say, at the distance of many 
 thousand miles, what is color! but if you were to act daily 
 and hourly up to this assertion, you would find cause to 
 change your opinion, or to judge milder of those with whom 
 the difference of color forms an insuperable barrier. 
 
 Coloris something whichstrikes that sense which carries the 
 most vivid impressions to the mind; you cannot expect the 
 millions to disregard it; it presents too glaring an appearance; 
 it is so striking an outward sign, that the idea of a well 
 marked difference between the two races cannot be well 
 eradicated. I can very well imagine that in some cases a 
 white man might lose his sensibility to this difference; in 
 fact I know a mulatto-man who is clerk with a bookseller, 
 and I went often there and transacted business with him, 
 without thinking of his color. Generally, however, you can- 
 not expect to find this indifference; especially, as another sense 
 is affected by near intercourse with the colored population. 
 
 Objections of this kind seem very light and perhaps frivo- 
 lous, to one who only becomes acquainted with the fact by 
 
( 295 ) 
 
 hearsay; but few things affect us more powerfully than dis- 
 gust. Why does the Prussian code allow, under certain 
 circumstances, divorce on the ground of "unconquerable 
 disgust?" The dissolution of the most sacred tie is per- 
 mitted with you, on the ground that it is utterly impossible 
 that people should be happy with each other, if one is con- 
 tinually an object of repulsion to the other, though it be 
 only by way of the senses. A peculiar odor is continually 
 emanating, more especially in a warm cl imate, from the 
 bodies of negroes, even when cleanly, which renders them 
 personally unpleasant to white people. There are indi- 
 viduals of the white race from whom a strong musky odor 
 is emitted, unpleasant enough, it is true, and sometimes dis- 
 gustingly repulsive; but that of a negro is different It re- 
 sembles that exuding from the snake and beetle. 
 
 Soon after I arrived in this country, I found that this 
 peculiar odor was considered one of the chief causes which 
 would for ever prevent a social equalization of the two 
 races, and I was anxious to ascertain for myself whether it 
 had a real existence. I have very sensitive olfactory nerves, 
 having received them from nature well organized, and having 
 exercised them by studying botany, on my travels, &c. I 
 have been able, on my pedestrian journeys, to scent a lake 
 or a villase at the distance of several miles, if the wind was 
 at all favorable; and yet I could not at first discover any 
 difference between the odor of the negroes and that I have 
 often perceived when many soldiers, after a long march, 
 were assembled in the same room. I was at that time in 
 Boston; the summer was very cool, and no colored servant 
 was in the house. Since I have gone farther south I must 
 testify to the correctness of the current statement. There 
 are some very few who deny this; so I knew an old lady 
 who actually loved the music of quarreling or plaintively 
 squalling cats. It was no affectation with her, of that I feel 
 convinced; yet I should not be willing to charge all the 
 rest of mankind with affectation or disregard to truth, be- 
 cause they declare that this kind of music does not affect. 
 
( 296 ) 
 
 them with pleasurable sensations. Some nations seem to be 
 more affected by the scent of the African race than others 
 and none more so than the English: Spaniards care less for 
 it. Bolivar had some colored aides, if I am rightly in- 
 formed; and in Brazil you may see black priests adminis- 
 ter the communion to white people. Yet even there is no 
 social mixture, no true social disfranchisement of the colored. 
 
 In judging of this subject, it ought never to be forgotten 
 that the stability of social intercourse does not depend upon 
 the agreement of a few broad general ideas, but chiefly 
 on an agreement upon the minor affairs of taste, views, 
 opinions, &c. I do not pretend to say that the white race 
 is handsomer than the colored; I can very well imagine 
 that a white man appearing among them must seem fright- 
 ful to them. I can imagine that people, unaccustomed to 
 our faces, perceive in them, when they first become ac- 
 quainted with our race, all those shades of yellow, blue, 
 and green, which the painter has to mix with his colors to 
 arrive at the true tints. Analyze a bloated face, and you 
 will shudder at all the ugliness it contains. Yet be this as 
 it may, it is clear that our views of beauty must essentially 
 differ; and races who cannot, in general, please each other, 
 will never cement. 
 
 This strong barrier will for ever prevent a free social in- 
 tercourse between the two races. But, suppose it did not, 
 shall a white man wish for a mixture of them? — for, with 
 me, a free social intercourse and intermarriage are one and 
 the same: one must lead to the other. If the love of 
 country has ever had any meaning attached to it, the 
 love of race has a weightier meaning still. I am a white 
 man, and I for one love my race; that race which, — how- 
 ever many misdeeds and crimes it may have forced his- 
 tory to enter on her records, however often it may have 
 suffered avarice to guide its actions and blast the noblest 
 plans, and however much its superior skill and knowledge 
 may have led it to superior and shameful incongruities, — 
 is, nevertheless, the favored one from which the Europeans 
 
( 297 ) 
 
 have descended; who, with theii' children, in other parts of 
 the world, have risen to an immense intellectual superior- 
 ity above all other tribes and nations. I for one do ex- 
 ecrate the idea of seeing this noble race degenerate into a 
 yellow mongrel breed, such as exists in Brazil and the 
 Portuguese islands along the coast of Africa. I for one 
 pray that heaven's best blessings, the extension of know- 
 ledge and civilization, may be showered down on our bre- 
 thren of a darker skin, but desire with equal anxiety that 
 the white race be continued in its purity, — that race, which 
 becomes master wherever it appears, because it unites in it- 
 self many good properties which are but scattered among 
 other races, — intelligence, sociability, activity, desire of pri- 
 vate property and elevation of mind. 
 
 Let us suppose, however, for a moment, — and we must 
 be prepared for the most extravagant expectations — that 
 we could suddenly divest ourselves of the unpleasant sen- 
 sations hinted at, could disregard all considerations of pro- 
 perty, politics, &c., and let the two millions of blacks 
 be absorbed by the eleven millions of whites, and that the 
 whole mixture should, within six or seven generations, re- 
 turn to a tolerable white, this color being originally so much 
 preponderant;; — through what state of barbarity should we 
 not have passed, how low would our nation have sunk! Or 
 is it really believed that those tender relations between hus- 
 band and wife which, within the house, put them on a par, 
 could exist between black and white? Now, if the relation 
 between husband and wife be changed, the whole state of 
 civilization is changed. It is only befitting the fanatic to 
 spin out the subject any farther; to say that laws would be 
 required to prevent a relapse of color, to enforce bur white 
 females to ally themselves to blacks, &c. That fanatics 
 should be found senseless enough to preach amalgamation as 
 the only means to overcome the great difficulty which sla- 
 very presents to us — our chronic disease which, of one kind 
 or other, every state and government have; yet, I hope, not 
 in our case an incurable one — is what wc might expect accord- 
 
( 298 ) 
 
 ing to history. Whenever great and important questions are 
 agitated, men will always be found who are incapable of 
 placing themselves but on a single point of view, and who neg- 
 lect or forget every thing else but their one favorite idea; they 
 look but to one single spot, and thus fall into what must be 
 called a mania. I know that the habit of paying too much 
 regard to all the possible bearings of an important projected 
 measure, has not unfrequently stifled the noblest zeal and 
 thwarted the hopes of the best friends of mankind; but I 
 also know, that well-meaning maniacs have done incalcula- 
 ble mischief in politics and religion, in the arts and the 
 sciences. 
 
 I believe that every disinterested and clear-minded obser- 
 ver will allow that slavery is against the spirit of the times, 
 and will become more so every day; and history affords 
 thousands and thousands of examples, tliat whatever is against 
 the spirit of tlie times must sooner or later fall; and that it is 
 the part of true wisdom to prepare in time for the change. 
 If I judge aright, the most judicious mode of emancipation 
 would be gradually to create a peasantry of colored people, 
 which should have in itself the means of melioration and final 
 discharge of the relations of peasantry, because, without the 
 latter condition, this peasantry would, in course of time, be- 
 come as much an element alien to our system and contrary 
 to the general course of ideas, as slavery now is. As, on 
 the other hand, the two races will not, and ought not to 
 amalgamate, it would be always inconvenient to have a dis- 
 proportionately large number of colored people at one time 
 among us; elimination of the greater part of them ought, 
 therefore, always to be considered as the final object of the 
 measure just mentioned — colonization, either in Africa or in 
 some distant part of our own continent, should be kept stea- 
 dily in view as the result to be finally eifected. If the sou- 
 thern states, or some of them, could agree among themselves 
 on some effective measure of this kind, there is no doubt 
 but that the other states, at least all the northern and east- 
 tern ones, would be ready to make a great sacrifice of the 
 
( 299 ) 
 
 public money in order to assist the operation of the plan. 
 But, for many reasons, political, legal, and moral, the mea- 
 sure must proceed from the south; it could not, otherwise, 
 be possibly carried into effect. 
 
 Let, at the same time, our southern brethren do away 
 with a certain system of harshness in one part of their con- 
 duct, which justly surprises every friend of mankind. No 
 plea of expediency, of advantage, or of fear, can justify a 
 law which directs a colored person, who cannot give a ready 
 explanation of his condition as to freedom, to be arrested, 
 and, if nothing can be proved against him, to make him pay 
 the expenses of his arrest, and, if he cannot pay them, to be 
 sold in order to defray them. It is double and triple tyran- 
 ny. It is even worse than the Brazilian law, which does 
 not provide for a prisoner before trial, nor allow him a trial 
 and proper counsel until he has the means for paying a law- 
 yer, so that, at Rio, people may always be found chained to 
 the outer wall of the prison, pedindo justiga, (begging jus- 
 tice,) as the begging of alms, in order to defray the expenses 
 of support in the prison and to pay a counsellor, is called. 
 
 Physical force is nowhere so powerful as moral force; and 
 the condition of a peasantry endowed with certain rights, 
 and with a way before it, which leads, by good behavior 
 and industry, to final entire emancipation, would afford, it 
 seems to me, tenfold more security than slavery, which, in 
 its character and essence, is a state of force, pregnant with 
 countless dangers, and particularly so in a republic like ours, 
 in which the executive has not many means of physical 
 force at its disposal, and in which the severity of laws — the 
 more readily enacted, as the law-makers are the interested 
 persons, and between whom and the slaves stands no inde- 
 pendent government — must supplant the means of safety 
 which, in monarchical states, is afforded by a large military 
 establishment. Another very important point would be 
 gained by the above measure, namely, the gradual accus- 
 toming of the once slaves to industry, directed by their own 
 judgment, without which the sudden emancipation of a large 
 
( 300 ) 
 
 number at once, is one of the greatest evils which can befall 
 either the emancipated or the emancipator. Maryland af- 
 fords an instance of the growing desire in our southern states 
 to rid themselves of their slave population. 
 
 More ardently than myself no one can wish that the mea- 
 sures of the British parliament may meet with full success, 
 and, finally, lead to beneficial results. How so numerous 
 a free colored population will behave toward a few whites, 
 whose superior intellectual development would be unable to 
 oppose any effectual power to the superior number of the 
 Africans, will always, until the event determines it, form 
 a subject of intense attention to the citizens of our repub- 
 lic. 
 
 If the English glory in this measure, it is but natural, 
 but they ought not to forget, that it was not their own slave- 
 owners who emancipated, but people at a great distance, 
 and, in like manner, our northern and eastern states wish to 
 see slavery abolished, and would be willing to contribute 
 whatever is in their power, by way of money; and let the 
 English remember, that many of our states had emancipated 
 their slaves long before the English thought of it; that 
 the people of this country, when dependent upon Britain, 
 made repeated efforts to prevent the importation of slaves, 
 but in vain (to which Jefferson, also, alludes in a passage of 
 his original draught of the declaration of independence, but 
 which was erased,) and that our republic was the first go- 
 vernment which abolished slave-trade, as early as in 1794, 
 while a Roscoe was yet hooted at in 1808, in Liverpool, 
 for having voted against this abominable traffic. And who 
 does not remember the foul arguments, which were at that 
 period brought forward to prevent its al3olition. Persons at 
 a distance often judge of the question of emancipation, quite 
 wrongly, because they think congress might, like a parlia- 
 ment in a capital, decree it and it would be done; but nothing 
 of the kind is in fact the case. Congress can do nothing 
 originally in the matter; it is altogether a subject which be- 
 longs to the forum of the state-legislatures — those true foun- 
 
( 301 ) 
 
 dations of our liberty, without which it would not have 
 been possible even to preserve her appearance. 
 
 I do not hesitate for a moment to say, that by far the 
 greatest majority of our southern people would be glad, 
 could they abolish slavery, but it requires more to effect 
 such a measure with wisdom, than a newspaper article, 
 which calls us, "slave-holding repuhjicans." May we ne- 
 ver, experience a sudden emancipation in the south. The 
 whites would either become the slaves of the blacks, or at 
 least the suppressed class, or they would have to emigrate, 
 and the south would be lost to our Union, and for a long 
 time even to mankind. 
 
 In the same paper, the assertion was made, that the want 
 of wisdom, in our national organization, was proved by the 
 dissolution of the Union, evidently approaching with hasty 
 strides, and chiefly brought on at the very time that this 
 political system was ever put to the test. Suppose I grant 
 all, I grant that the Union is hurrying toward dissolution, 
 that the separation once having taken place, wars, and wars 
 of the worst kind, will soon follow — a dissolution of the 
 elements of society, similar to that in some periods of the 
 feudal ages, yet without chivalry, and that severe contests 
 must be gone through in order to arrive once more at a stable 
 state of things — even if I grant you all this, I nevertheless, 
 maintain, that the Union, and our constitution, were a wise 
 contrivance, and it seems to me, the only one which was 
 capable of producing so rapid a progress, in so many re- 
 spects, of this young nation, and that if to-morrow the 
 whole should tumble to pieces, it was yet worth the while 
 to have established it. 
 
 I am the warmest advocate for forms of government which 
 carry within them the guarantee of stability: continual 
 changes undermine the whole society, to its very views of 
 morality and the pursuit of knowledge. The civic spirit, 
 the firm adherence to right and law, cannot grow and expand. 
 Many states in the middle ages, and France, afford numerous 
 instances; but the duration alone is no test of the goodness of 
 
♦ ( 302 ) 
 
 a government; otherwise we ought to send ambassadors to 
 China, as the Romans sent theirs to Greece. A shoe, as 
 such, does not last half as long as when it is trod down and 
 worn as a slipper. 
 
 There are some tests which no government can possibly 
 stand, because every government, even the strongest, must 
 have, like Achilles and Siegfried, one vulnerable point, where 
 it may be wounded to the quick. Wisdom must choose, 
 with regard to durability, that form which bids fair to expose 
 with the least frequency, this vulnerable point, according to 
 the given materials and circumstances. Thus the English 
 constitution, which combines a number of the finest points, 
 has, in my opinion, never yet been truly tested. I speak of 
 course of the constitution since it has become a true and 
 professed contract between the people and the monarch. The 
 weak point of a constitutional monarchy is, that one person 
 is by inheritance endowed with great privileges, which ne- 
 vertheless shall be used in the spirit of the constitution and 
 for the benefit of the people only. A variety of contrivances 
 are resorted to in order to effect this result, contrivances which 
 in my opinion do as much honor to the human mind as any 
 thing I know of. But, nevertheless, they constitute the vul- 
 nerable point of this form of government. The English 
 constitution would be put to a severe test, if a Frederic or a 
 Napoleon should be born upon the throne of the Brunswick 
 family. In such case, if the crown were not to absorb 
 the constitutional privileges of the people, it would at least 
 stifle their truly constitutional use and application, or the 
 people would rise and absorb the privileges of the crown. 
 Men like those I have mentioned cannot but be independent 
 and unshackled, or must be conquered and subdued. 
 
 You ask, what are our vulnerable points? I think they 
 are two in number, but, in order to let you judge whether 
 I am right or not, it would be necessary to give you a tableau 
 of our whole political organization, and an abstract of our 
 history in the bargain. 
 
( 303 ) 
 
 LETTER XVI. 
 
 To-day I write to you, my dear friend, in no happy mood, 
 for I have seen man, once more, in a situation not calculated 
 to exalt our opinion of him — a camp-meeting. The religion 
 of the methodists is, in a great degree, founded on the ex- 
 citement of feeling. The followers of methodism will grant 
 you this. They do not admit, indeed, that the peculiar trait 
 of their sect, distinguishing it from all other protestant de- 
 nominations, is what they would term an excitement of 
 feeling; they would call it an agitation produced by the 
 power of God, or the powerful effect of the divine spi- 
 rit, or would characterize it by an expression of this kin(J. 
 But, however we may differ as to the cause and name, we 
 agree, I believe, as to the subject itself That which appears 
 to us as a high state of excitement, and which they believe 
 to be the effect and true sign of intense piety, forms that 
 trait of their religion which is peculiar to them, as a sect. 
 Camp-meetings, if I have properly understood the ex- 
 planations, given me by methodists themselves, are held, 
 for the purpose of promoting this powerful effect, with the 
 followers of this creed, and thereby of strengthening re- 
 ligion in their souls, as also, in order to excite in persons 
 not yet converted, that state of overwhelming contrition, 
 which according to methodism, must generally precede con- 
 version and regeneration. The object of camp-meetings, 
 then, is powerfully to excite religious feelings, and sorry am 
 I to say, that they are the scenes of unrefrained excitement, 
 which to every one, but the methodists themselves, appear 
 but as a wild outbursting of vague, though passionate and 
 
( 304 ) 
 
 powerful feelings; of great danger, in my opinion, to true 
 moral and religious development. A camp-meeting is to me 
 a most gloomy sight, and gives you the clew to a number 
 of phenomena in history, which otherwise would be nearly 
 inconceivable by a sober mind. 
 
 A conveniently situated spot, shaded if possible by trees 
 and near to water, is selected as the place of the meeting, 
 which generally takes place in autumn. A temporary plat- 
 form, with a shed and a kind of desk for the ministers to 
 preach from to the multitude, is erected. It is generally, or 
 always, in the middle of one line of an oblong, which is 
 formed by the tents, pitched for the accommodation of the 
 people, as well as for their religious exercises in their 
 " classes." It is not my intention to give you a description 
 of the whole proceedings, or of all the scenes which are 
 acted under the eye of the visiter; it has been done by seve- 
 ral writers on the customs and manners of this country with 
 considerable fidelity. 
 
 Nothing is easier than to write an attractive account on 
 subjects of this very kind, since the most striking contrasts 
 are forced upon the mind of the spectator, even were he not 
 generally apt to seize at once upon the characteristic traits 
 of subjects offered to his observation; but you must expect 
 nothing of the kind in the following; though I openly con- 
 fess, that no religious service, however it might differ from 
 my views of a due reverence to the deity, not even the 
 Jewish confusion during some of the religious celebrations 
 peculiar to that people, has inspired me with less of that 
 respect which we naturally feel for any mode of adoration 
 adopted by our fellow creatures, than the scenes I witnessed 
 in the camp-meetings. The service of the Shaking Quakers 
 is strikingly ludicrous; but camp-meetings are startling in 
 the highest degree, filling you at once with contempt of 
 certain designing men, and compassion for their unwary, 
 deluded, and tormented victims. I intend merely to give 
 you a few observations, which, indeed, will not inform you 
 of any thing nevv, but will be additional facts of psycholo- 
 
( 305 ) 
 
 gical interest — contributions to the account of man's aber- 
 rations; alas! a long scroll in the hand of History, com- 
 pared to the slip on which she notices his acts of wisdom. 
 Should the perusal of this letter, nevertheless, force a smile 
 upon your lips, this effect is not its object. It is with 
 grief I write these lines, not with pleasure; and I have 
 omitted several facts, because they had too much of the 
 merely ridiculous about them. 
 
 Let me first give you a few general observations, the 
 truth of which has been impressed upon my mind with ad- 
 ditional strength by my seeing camp-meetings. 
 
 First: All protestant enthusiasts or fanatics resort to the 
 Old Testament and the book of revelation in preference to 
 the New Testament, for proofs and testimony of their be- 
 lief and kind of worship, for imagery in preaching and their 
 forms of conception and expression, often even of the prin- 
 ciples of their peculiar ethical views. They believe them- 
 selves to be the people of Israel. A God "who swears in 
 his wrath " seems to be more congenial to them than a God 
 who "is love," the bountiful father of his children. Roman 
 catholic fanatics, though their zeal may carry them to mon- 
 strosities of belief and action, nevertheless move more within 
 the general outlines of the tenets of their church, or, at least, 
 within what is believed to be true by great catholic masses. 
 
 Secondly: Christian fanatics universally occupy them- 
 selves more, nay nearly exclusively, with the fear of hell 
 and the state of the damned, not with the hope of a reunion 
 with God; with the anxiety to escape eternal punishment, not 
 the zeal to win the love of God, and to love him with the in- 
 creasing pleasure which a pure soul finds in loving the only 
 perfect being. If the comparison be not offensive to you, I 
 would say, they are like bad soldiers driven into battle by 
 cannons placed behind them, not led by the love of country, 
 and a genuine feeling of honor. 
 
 Third: All religious enthusiasts preach dogmatics and 
 polemics, not practical virtue or the longsuffering of a pu- 
 rified soul; or if they do preach the latter, it is not in order 
 
 39 
 
( 306 ) 
 
 to instil into the souls of the hearers that gentle charity and 
 elevated kindness, which is one of the choicest flowers of 
 all religion, all virtue and all cultivation of the mind, but 
 rather to strengthen them against the gibes and sneers or 
 attacks of the world. All the sermons I heard in the camp- 
 meeting which gave rise to this letter, and in another I visit- 
 ed some years ago, were exclusively dogmatic or polemic, 
 and one preacher actually mentioned every Christian sect 
 from the catholics to the quakers, with unkind and uncha- 
 ritable remarks, excluding them all from the bliss which 
 the true methodist is to expect in after life. 
 
 I have often enough heard similar strains of preaching in 
 Roman catholic countries. Once a landlord of mine, when I 
 was a soldier, took great pains in his way, to save my soul, 
 and assured me, when I asked him whether he really believed, 
 that a good and virtuous protestant could not possibly enter 
 into heaven, that perliaps he might by way of exception, 
 but undoubtedly only to wait upon the catholics. I ex- 
 pressed my hope that I should be made his servant and that 
 he would prove an indulgent master. On the other hand^ 
 the minister who preached the above mentioned sermon, 
 said that if any but methodists would be admitted to the 
 purest bliss, he was sure his grandmother would be one of 
 them; she was a most pious baptist. The ignorant will al- 
 ways mingle their personal affairs with whatever subject 
 they may be treating of. So much for uncharitableness, the 
 vulgarest banner that can be unfurled for enlistment in any 
 cause. 
 
 Fourth: Also, the less informed a preacher is, the more 
 dogmatic and polemic he invariably is in his sermons. 
 
 Fifth: All Christian fanatics give to the word love, though 
 used in a religious sense, a certain amorous meaning, applied 
 in a spiritual sense. You can trace this index of entliusiasm 
 through all ages of the Christian church; from the times of 
 some most glowing early hymns, to those of the latest 
 methodist songs. 
 
 Sixth: All enthusiasts dislike exceedingly to reason, as 
 
( 307 ') 
 
 is natural, and always will end by saying, All you say is 
 perfectly right according to the world's reasoning and from 
 your point of view; but the true light has not dawned upon 
 you; you cannot understand us; we know we are right, be- 
 cause God is within us; we know it, and if ever the light 
 appears within you, you will say with us, "We know it, it is 
 certain." 
 
 Seventh: Love of notoriety, be it even but in a very 
 limited circle, is one of the main springs of action, with 
 most fanatics. 
 
 Eighth: Fanatics are never satisfied with a calm and placid 
 adoration of the deity, but evidently seek for excitement, 
 and obvious proofs of it; so much so, that frequently the 
 preachers appear dissatisfied when they are unable to bring 
 their hearers to the desired pitch, and they judge of the 
 excellence of a sermon or prayer by the degree of ex- 
 citement it has produced; though every observer knows 
 well, that nothing, in fact, is easier than to move a congre- 
 gation to tears, or to produce any similar signs of emotion. 
 The account of a few touching scenes, eloquently described, 
 is sufficient; but conviction, which takes root in the mind, 
 and which lasts, is a more difficult task. I found in a 
 work on pastoral theology the advice given to young minis- 
 ters, carefully to avoid excitement, ^because, said the wri- 
 ter, (an experienced and pious minister and professor of 
 theology,) nothing is more enticing if once begun, and no- 
 thing creates so craving an appetite for more excitement, 
 and disposes the hearer less for true conviction, and that 
 calm state of mind, without which no fulfilment of our 
 most sacred duties is possible. 
 
 Ninth: Nothing is more frequent, than that fanatic 
 preachers entertain their hearers with accounts of their own 
 former state of infidelity, and in a boasting manner badly co- 
 vered over by words of self-accusation. Sometimes this is 
 done in order to show that they too, in their time, were 
 smart people, sometimes to show their great humility by 
 thus exposing their sins and errors, and it is always, partly. 
 
( 308 ) 
 
 owing to the circumstance that ignorant as well as fanatic 
 people delight in treating of themselves, to which I have 
 already alluded. This remark holds not only in religion. 
 
 Finally, fanatics of all times, in all countries, and of all 
 religions, have considered religious hysterics as a sign of the 
 peculiar favor of the deity toward the afflicted individual; 
 and have dwelt upon them as a striking proof of the strong 
 effect which the spirit of the deity exercises upon those 
 who have received its influence. Heathens, Mahometans, 
 Jews and Christians, in antiquity, in the middle ages, and in 
 our own times, have done and are doing the same. 
 
 The camp-meeting of which I speak was held in West- 
 Chester, not far from the borough of the same name, about 
 three and twenty miles from Philadelphia. I went with a 
 friend of mine; when we approached the " camp," w^- heard 
 a loud shouting, peculiar to the methodists, when in a state 
 of religious excitement, intermingled with tunes equally 
 peculiar to their worship. Perhaps you are not aware of 
 the fact that the methodists adopt any popular tune, how- 
 ever gay, and for whatever wordly text it may have been 
 originally composed, or be still universally used, and either 
 substitute other words, or adapt those belonging to the tune 
 to their religious phraseology by changing a few expressions, 
 which, as may be easily conceived, produces songs some- 
 times appearing to the adherents of other sects in a dress 
 very different from what they consider an appropriate reli- 
 gious style, and one sometimes even positively improper 
 and indecorous. Amorous and sailors' songs &c. are not 
 rejected, but merely altered in certain parts, which might 
 not give rise to the purest associations with the uninitiated. 
 I send you, as a proof of what I say, a copy of the Zion 
 Songster, New York, 1830. There are some of their tunes, 
 in which the existence of a lyric glow, the rapid expression 
 of intense feeling, or the vivacity of an enraptured soul, can- 
 not be denied, however they may differ from the tunes of 
 hymns which alone are considered by other sects to be fit- 
 led to this species of poetry. But they are sung in a manner 
 
( 309 ) 
 
 so little consistent with the most modest demands of music, 
 that they never produced any becoming effect upon me. 
 
 So gay are some of their tunes, that I have several times 
 believed myself to be approaching a scene of merriment, 
 until I happened to hear a hallelujah or hosanna. But a 
 few days ago I was under the same impression, when I 
 met a stage-coach full of methodists. You must know, 
 that when assembled in any number, they are much in- 
 ch :ied to sing their hymns, wherever they may be. I 
 travelled last winter from Washington to Baltimore with 
 six travelling ministers, returning from a meeting of theirs 
 with two ladies of their sect, and at various periods one or 
 the other began to hum one of their tunes, in which several 
 of the rest, or all of them shortly joined. In the adapta- 
 tion of worldly songs and tunes^ the methodists are not un- 
 like the early Christians, with this exception, that the lat- 
 ter, as far as I know, employed only odes to the pagan gods, 
 or other poems of a higher cast, — substituting a Christian 
 meaning; in like manner as the statues of the dethroned 
 gods, or of consuls and senators, were not unfrequently 
 used to represent the evangelists or other saints. The op- 
 posite to the methodistical substitution of a religious sense 
 to worldly songs, is the adaptation, in the middle ages, of 
 psalms or religious poems, to gay wine songs frequently 
 sung in this way, in the convents and by students. Such, 
 for instance, was the origin of the famous Gaudeamus igitur. 
 
 My companion, whom I mentioned above, is a German 
 physician, who passed with credit through the whole Prus- 
 sian medical " state-examination" at Berlin, which will be 
 sufficient to convince you, who are acquainted with the or- 
 ganization of the medical school of Prussia, that he is a 
 thorough bred physician.* I mention this, because it will 
 
 • The various examinations, established by the Prussian g-overnment, to 
 assure itself of the fitness of candidates either for offices under government, 
 or the license of practising, are in all branches — in medicine, theology, law, 
 education, pharmacy, mining, the department of forests, the ai-my, the ad- 
 ministration, Sec, so infinitely more rigid, than similar examinations in any 
 
( 310 ) 
 
 be found to be a fact of some importance in the sequel of 
 this letter. 
 
 We went first to the " camp" at about eight o'clock in 
 the evening, when the meeting had already lasted five long 
 
 other countries, that It may not be unhiteresthig- to some of our readers, to 
 give them a hasty sketch of the " state-examhiation " mentioned in the above 
 text. No student of medicine is admitted to the university, any more than 
 the student of any other branch, without having proved by examination, that 
 he has received a thorough classical education. The time he is obliged to 
 devote to his univei-slty studies, is a period of four years, the two latter of 
 which are chiefly spent in the medical, surgical, and obstetric clinica. In 
 the one half year the student is but a " hearer" in the different cllnica, In the 
 next he practises himself under the direction and constant examination and 
 instruction of the directing professor. Hospitals are likewise regularly visit- 
 ed. That the reader may obtain an idea of the great variety of lectures and 
 thorough treatment of every single branch, we would refer him to the article 
 University In the Encyclopaedia Americana, in wlilch the catalogue of lec- 
 tures, delivered in one half year in the university of Berlin has been given. 
 It is the catalogue for the winter term from 1829 — 1830, In which we find 
 ninety different courses of lectures enumerated, some of which are of course 
 on the same subject, but by different professors. When the student has 
 finished his university studies he is allowed to take the degree of doctor, for 
 which he is orally examined in all branches, is compelled to write a Latin 
 dissertation, and publicly to dispute in Latin on certain theses, selected by 
 himself, with any person, professor or student, who chooses to enter the 
 arena. The degree of doctor is merely an honorary degree of the university, 
 bestowed as an acknowledgment of sufficient theoretical attjunments. In 
 ovAqv to ohX.sS.n\.\\e licentiapradicandi'it is necessary for every Prussian to 
 repair to BerUn. Here, after having proved that he is doctor, he Is prac- 
 tically examined. Among other tests of fitness, he is led to the bedside of a 
 patient in the Charity, the chief hospital in Berlin, and after having thorough- 
 ly examined the case, is locked up in a room without books, where he has to 
 write down his diagnosis, the plan of treatment, with all the reasons for his 
 adopting it, and the various ways of treating the disease in all the different 
 shapes it may assume. After this he draws by lot, out of an urn containing 
 slips of paper on which the different important surgical operations are writ- 
 ten, and the one which falls to his chance he must forthwith explain, with 
 the history of the various ways of performing it, after which he must per- 
 form it himself on a subject. He then receives a number of acute and 
 chronic cases, which he must attend for the space of three months. In ob- 
 stetrics he is not admitted to the examination, if he has not previously de- 
 livered iiimself at least twelve cases in the obstetric clinicum. After this 
 he is orally examined in all branches of medicine, and the related sciences, 
 
( 311 ) 
 
 days and nights. The field was not crowded with booths, 
 ofifering refreshments or entertainments of any kind, as I 
 have seen on particular days, near places of pilgrimage 
 in catholic countries, causing scenes of great dissipation, 
 on account of which the governments of France and Ger- 
 many, that of Austria perhaps alone excepted, have entirely 
 abolished them. Nor do I really believe that these camp- 
 meetings occasion as much mischief of a certain kind among 
 the methodists themselves, as the pilgrimages just men- 
 tioned; for instance, the annual one to Einsiedel in the can- 
 ton of Schwytz, creates among those who attend them. But 
 this evil is certainly not entirely obviated, as may be sup- 
 posed, a priori; for there is nothing on earth more danger- 
 ous in this respect than a concourse of many people of both 
 sexes, in a state of high religious excitement, for the very 
 reason that they are excited and brought nearer together 
 under the delusive forms of brotherly and sisterly love and 
 religious purity. If you throw a glance at history, you will 
 find, that all meetings of religiously excited people end 
 with mischief of this kind. Nor is this by any means 
 peculiar to Christian sects; it is the same with Mahometans, 
 of the meeting of whom on Mount Ararat for instance, 
 Burckhard gives a frightful picture, and you are well ac- 
 quainted with the licentious disorder among the Hindoos, 
 when thus assembled. When in the course of the evening 
 one of the ministers made from the pulpit the necessary 
 arrangements for the watches, &c., he did not omit to recom- 
 mend to the sentinels, not to allow "men and ladies" to 
 walk about together. 
 
 We entered one of the tents where a "class" was as- 
 sembled. These tents, destined for class meetings, are di- 
 vided lengthwise by a bench about a foot high, and called 
 
 such as botany, chemistry, &c. If he passes through all these ordeals to the 
 satisfaction of tlie examiners, he obtains the license of practising-. There 
 are not more than about one hundred individuals a year in the whole king- 
 dom (containing thirteen millions of inhabitants,) who obtain this Ucense. — 
 Editor. 
 
( 312 ) 
 
 the mourners' bench. On one side are the men, on the 
 other the women; they lie or sit in disorder on the straw, 
 which is strewn on the ground, and was by this time 
 broken into small particles, causing in those places where 
 the people moved much about, dense dust, extremely offen- 
 sive to the lungs. This dust, together with the hot atmo- 
 sphere, poisoned by the breath of so many people crowded 
 into a narrow space, and the smoke of lamps, rendered the 
 interior of the tents very obnoxious to a spectator coming 
 from the fresh and pure air without, and not in such a state 
 of excitement as to be insensible to its injurious effects upon 
 the human organs. Along both sides of the mourners' bench 
 kneel " the sinners in a repenting state" who wish to join 
 the faithful; or, overpowered by their feelings or by ex- 
 haustion, they lie on the ground, or in the arms of others, 
 quiet, half faint, exclaiming, groaning or weeping, while, 
 from time to time, the minister or any other "brother" 
 speaks into their ears of impending everlasting damnation, 
 or the bright hope of salvation; and I saw, repeatedly, men 
 taking the hands of women between their hands, and patting 
 and striking them, exhorting them, mean while, to trust 
 in God, or, if they stood at the entrance of the tent as 
 mere spectators, to join those in the interior and to re- 
 pent. In these cases, as well as at several times when the 
 ministers or other "brethren" addressed the uninitiated, a 
 language was used, the familiarity of which struck our ears 
 as very strange. " Now come," they would say, " why 
 won't you try? — come my dear brother or sister; God calls 
 upon you — don't you see how powerful his spirit is? just 
 try it, you will see how sweet it is — won't you? Come in, 
 the mourners' bench is open for you, come in, it may soon 
 be too late;" and other expressions of this kind. 
 
 One actually indecorous scene we saw, which I have no 
 doubt would be considered so by mostmethodists themselves, 
 were their attention directed to it. A man stood near the 
 entry of a tent as spectator, and a woman, a friend, perhaps 
 a cousin of his, because slie called him James, was very 
 
( 313 ) 
 
 anxious that he should join their service. She tried her best, 
 though, of course, she did not use any kind of argument; 
 but during the whole time she stroked his hand or fingers, 
 taking one after the other between h'er hands. She succeed- 
 ed at length in persuading the man to enter the tent, which 
 he did' with th-e words, "I don't care, but you' won't catch 
 me." We saw another man ushered into the tent, in a 
 way which really reminded one of a similar kind of 
 seizing on men, adopted by persons of which the metho- 
 dists would not like to remind the spectator. He half 
 walked, and was half pushed in by one of the ministers 
 handed over to the minister of the respective tent, and 
 pushed down to the mourners' bench, where he lay for 
 some time, his face resting on the bench, but he soion turned 
 it upward, with convulsive distortions of his eyes and the 
 muscles of his face. As many of the methodists' songs 
 appear undignified, so is their language in speaking of re- 
 ligious subjects not unfrequently offensively quaint and fa- 
 miliar to unaccustomed ears. One person we heard say, 
 directly after a most passionate prayer, "I think it is now 
 time to close the concern." 
 
 In the tent which we visited first there were several per- 
 sons in a state of blessing, as the methodists call it; I sh-all 
 say presently more about it. One woman exclaimed, seve- 
 ral times, " Five or six sins I have committed, which, I 
 fear, never can be forgiven;" weeping, at the same time^ bit- 
 terly. Others prayed aloud, or called amen, whenever a 
 passage in the prayer of the loudest seemed to strike them 
 as particularly true; some slept in the corner, others, again, 
 were quiet, but, from time to time, they would ejaculate ex- 
 pressions of sorrow or delight; and the laugh, not the smile, 
 but the loud laugh with which these people greet the assu- 
 rances of the bliss and happiness of the saved, or the glory 
 in which Christ will appear to his faithful followers, or 
 their familiar exclamations, such as, "God bless my soul," 
 and the like, arc as strange to others as many of their ex- 
 
 40 
 
( 314 ) 
 
 pressions of grief and religious fear. The constant and 
 invariable theme of their exhortations was, as long as we 
 were witnesses of these proceedings, " It is yet time to re- 
 pent, come then and do so; death may suddenly cut you 
 off, when your eternal doom will be pronounced upon 
 you:" and it seems to be a decidedly settled opinion with 
 the methodists, that, whenever and however you may happen 
 to die, the state in which you are at the time of death is 
 the sole testimony for the great judge by which to pro- 
 nounce his irrevocable sentence for eternity. Not one single 
 time, (I state this while I am fully aware of the import of 
 my words,) have I heard a rational advice calculated to lead 
 to the fulfilment of our duties, to a true elevation of the soul, 
 or to teach forbearance to others; and I can assure you, that 
 the constant repetition of the words " everlasting flames and 
 eternal damnation," would alone be sickening to the hearer, 
 leaving their meaning entirely out of consideration. 
 
 I found here, again, what I have often had occasion to ob- 
 serve, that each sect, and especially those which appea^^in a 
 great degree to feeling, has its peculiar kind of delivery and 
 enunciation. The methodists, generally, add ane at the end of 
 words, after which they make a short pause, and thus say, 
 Godde, cominge, salvationne, which peculiarity in fact ap- 
 pearsto bea result oftheirexcitement,whichcannotas readily 
 find words as their minds, wrought up to passion, would re- 
 quire. It is somewhat similar to the dwelling on words, like 
 is, have, &c., so common in the British parliament, and made 
 use of, in order to gain time for the arrangement of the next 
 sentence. The methodist pronunciation of "Oh, Lord!" 
 is quite peculiar to them, from Maine to Mississippi, in 
 America and England; while the unpleasant, nasal pronun- 
 ciation is very common with them but not exclusively their 
 own. A nasal and tremulous twang belongs generally to 
 all protestant sects, who consider themselves the persecuted 
 people of Israel. It originates in my opinion, from a sickly 
 feeling of over-humility, which expresses itself in these 
 tones of a lachrymous character. The fact cannot be denied, 
 
( 315 ) 
 
 and as it is so general, there must be a general cause for it. 
 Trust no sect or man, with a nasal long-drawn twang. 
 
 After having listened to their singing, exhorting, praying 
 and violent preaching, we entered one of the tents, which 
 distinguished itself by a greater noise, and wilder devotional 
 exercise, at nearly two o'clock in the morning. The air 
 was pestilential; the dust from pulverized straw and par- 
 ticles of dried earth very thick; the general appearence of 
 the whole was similar to that of a room in an insane hospi- 
 tal, but even more frightful; the same motions of the limbs, 
 expressions of faces, and fearful noise. Some were seen 
 rubbing their hands, apparently in great agony, others clap- 
 ping them together, others stretching them out toward 
 heaven, and distorting their eyes, some stamping with the 
 feet, some rubbing their knees, some moving the upper 
 part of the body forward and backward, others screaming, 
 and weeping, surrounded by a number of friends, who pre- 
 vented the small current of air, which yet existed, from 
 reaching them, and sung and spoke into their ears; some 
 leaping up and down, with staring eyes, their hair dishe- 
 velled, others, lying on the ground, distended as if in a 
 swoon, some sitting in a state of perfect exhaustion and in- 
 anity, with pale cheeks and vacant eyes, which bore traces 
 of many tears. One before all, was lying on his knees, ap- 
 parently in a state of great agony, and uttering the expres- 
 sions of a desponding soul, addressed to a wrathful God. — 
 An Esquirol would have found here more interesting sub- 
 jects, than a theologian. 
 
 We approached two of the girls, extended on the ground 
 in a "state of blessing," in order to find out their precise 
 condition, determined to retire immediately, should we be 
 considered as intruders. But I had not miscalculated; fanatics 
 are invariably pleased with attention being shown to their 
 proceedings. We touched the pulses of the girls and found 
 them rather slow, but not more so than can be easily ex- 
 plained from previous great exhaustion, and the quiet breath- 
 ing, lying as they had been, for a long time on the ground. 
 
( 316 ) 
 
 One had her hands cramped together and her eyes open; the 
 other, the hands extended: the skin of both had a perfectly 
 natural heat. We attracted, of course, immediate attention, 
 and from some girls near us, a sneer of religious conceit at 
 the benighted profanity, which endeavored to become ac- 
 quainted with this state of blessedness, by the common me- 
 thod of worldly science. Two girls, I observed, found it 
 amusing, and had a real girlish giggling at it. I addressed one 
 of the first females and said, " My dear young woman, you 
 do not seem td have yet learned one very important lesson 
 from your religion, and that is to be charitable toward those 
 whom you consider ignorant." This was attacking her on 
 her own ground, and she was not unconscious of it; a mo- 
 dest silence showed that she confessed herself guilty. 
 
 Another girl, a bright and friendly little person, came up to 
 us, as well as many men, and a long conversation ensued, of 
 which I will give you the substance as accurately as I can 
 remember, and which strikingly illustrates one of the most 
 amiable traits of American character, — namely, the allowing 
 every one to have and state fully his own opinion, — displayed 
 even here, in this scene of violent excitement. I spoke with 
 unreserved freedom, without at all provoking their indigna- 
 tion; on the contrary, they listened calmly to what I had to 
 say. They, on the other hand, no doubt saw that we were 
 in good earnest, and made no joke of it, that we thought 
 them greatly wrong and were displeased with the whole exhi- 
 bition of religious passion, but that we took the whole matter 
 to heart. One surly fellow, indeed, left the little crowd around 
 us, and said when passing me, though not directed to me, 
 " What do you talk to them fellows, and if God should show 
 them signs all day long, they would not believe." 
 
 An elderly man caine up to me, one of the very few more 
 aged persons present, and asked me, what we thought of the 
 girls, meaning those extended on the ground. I said, that 
 we thought that many of them were actually endeavoring 
 to deceive the others: an assertion in which we were justi- 
 fied; because one of ,lhe females who lay with o}>en and 
 
( 317 ) 
 
 staring eyes, had winked when we passed oUr hand at some 
 distance from her face, and the other, who had her eyes 
 closed, rolled them instantly up, when we opened the eye- 
 lids, — an evident proof, that the light had its full effect upon 
 them; nor were her pupils either unnaturally dilated or 
 contracted, but appeared in their natural extension. In- 
 deed, any physician will tell you whether it be possible, that 
 an individual can lie for two or thr^e hours together in a 
 state of real exhaustion and unconsciousness, deprived of all 
 the power of volition, without laboring under a serious affec- 
 tion of the nervous system and experiencing the evil conse- 
 quences of such a fit for several weeks. Yet these indi- 
 viduals appear a few hours after, in a comparatively sound 
 state of health. That these simulations cannot but finally 
 bring on disturbances of the various functions of the body, 
 is evident.* "And," continued I, " if it were not improper to 
 sprinkle their faces with cold water, you would see how 
 quickly they would leave their present state." 
 
 '^ Oh, my dear, you might throw a whole bucket of water 
 over them, they would not awake a moment sooner than 
 the Lord had intended." 
 
 " We cannot make the proof," I said. " But, what is 
 your idea of this peculiar state, in which you believe these 
 individuals to be?" 
 
 " It is a state of happiness; the Lord makes them happy, 
 and shows his power," was his answer. 
 
 " Do you mean to say, that the soul leaves the body, and 
 is united for a time to God?" 
 
 "Oh no, that would be entrancement; they are only 
 blessed." 
 
 « So you call it blessing? Why do you give it this name?" 
 
 " Because they feel blessed, when they are in this state: 
 
 • A case is on record, in which a man had the power vokinUirily to sup- 
 press the pulsation of the heart for some minutes. At length he died during- 
 one of his exhibitions. Hysteric attacks, if freely indulged in, and not 
 checked in time, pass over into real spasmodic fits and nenous affections. — 
 — Editor. 
 
( 318 ) 
 
 they say, when awakening, that they feel happier than they 
 ever do otherwise. And, it is to' show the power of the 
 Lord." I expressed my great astonishment, at calling the 
 fit of a girl a peculiar proof of the power of God: "He," 
 said I, "who can fix that light in the heavens," pointing 
 at a glorious moon, "I think should not be doubted by 
 any one, to have the power of depriving any living being of 
 consciousness" No answer was given, and the old man 
 asked me, " How would you call this state?" 
 
 " We would term it a kind of hysteric fits, half voluntary 
 and conscious, half brought on by the exhausting fatigue, 
 and noxious air — fits, which might be, probably, in every 
 single case prevented by severe reprimand, or threats. How 
 does it happen that they are chiefly women, and young wo- 
 men, who fall into this condition?" 
 
 "I cannot say, but men do also, and sometimes very strong 
 ones." 
 
 " They may, nevertheless, have weak nerves, or deceive 
 you, and, which is not unlikely, deceive themselves; for 
 fits are often half true, half not, and very often tliey end 
 with a real kind of fit, though they were brought on volun- 
 tarily." In fact, the girl whom I designated above as a 
 bright little woman, told us the next morning, when the 
 conversation had turned upon the same subject, and in order 
 to prove that there was no simulation in these cases, that she 
 knew a woman who once continued three days in this state 
 of blessedness, with short interruptions, and that her friends 
 became so alarmed, that a physician was called, who restored 
 her to health after six weeks of serious sufiering. To us 
 this was just a case in point. Alarming diseases must be, 
 in many cases, the consequences of these fits. 
 
 " But," said I, " how does it make them happy? I cannot 
 understand this." 
 
 " You are right, you cannot, but the Lord is within us." 
 
 " And," added my companion, " you will find that all 
 the girls who are often gifted with these blessings, will 
 come to their end by diseases of the heart or epileptic fits." 
 
( 319 ) 
 
 " No fear of that; there are some who have had very often 
 these blessings, and are yet healthy." 
 
 " There may be exceptions, but depend upon it, either 
 these diseases or insanity must be the consequence." 
 
 A little girl, pale, with a nervous look and peculiar stare, 
 stood near. " This girl," I said, pointing at her, " is subject 
 to these blessings, is she not?" 
 
 " Yes," said the smart girl, " she has them often, and," 
 asked she, smilingly, " am I subject?" 
 
 " Assuredly not," I said. 
 
 " You are right," she answered. 
 
 " But," said one of the crowd, " if the Lord's Spirit is 
 not the cause of these blessings, how does it happen that they 
 never hurt themselves if they fall? I have seen a man who 
 fell with his head right against the corner of an iron stove, 
 and it did not hurt him in the least." 
 
 " Well," said my companion, " that is only a proof that 
 they always know very well what they are about, and, be- 
 sides, it is bare superstition to believe what you do. You 
 have serious objections against the baptists, as I have seen 
 from one of the sermons of your ministers, and yet the bap- 
 tists say that it is a proof of the Lord's spirit being with 
 them, that no person baptized by them, even were it in dead 
 winter, in an open river, catches as much as a cold." 
 
 " Oh, the baptists; that is very different," was the an- 
 swer, yet an American will always relish something smart, 
 and as such, the reply to their observation respecting the 
 safety from injury of the person in " a state of blessing," ap- 
 peared to them. Americans have, likewise, a fear of being 
 considered superstitious; so they urged nothing farther 
 against us on this score. I, for my part, could not help 
 thinking of what I found in a translation of a Chinese work 
 on medicine, by Abel Remusat. The Chinese naturalist 
 ridicules, in the passage of which I am reminded, the credu- 
 lous people who believe that the cherry-bird is transformed 
 into a mole, and that rice, strewed into a river, at a proper 
 season, changes into fishes. " These," he says, " are ludi- 
 
( 320 ) 
 
 crous tales, calculated for children only. There is but one 
 transformation well authenticated; namely, that of the rat 
 into the quail; that is told in all good books, and I have myself 
 often observed it, because transformations have their regular 
 course. But as to the absurdity of cherry-birds changing 
 into moles, and rice into fish, no person in his sound senses 
 can believe it; it is too foolish." 
 
 Our discussion extended yet to other subjects, and I said, 
 in the course of it, that, they having granted me that camp- 
 meetings are held in order to get up excitement, I must de- 
 clare them essentially unchristian; that Christ no where ex- 
 cited the people, nor did he recommend it, nor establish 
 camp-meetings. " Did he not preach in the open air?" asked 
 one. — " Yes, because he had no other place, nor do I now 
 speak against preaching in the open air, but against this re- 
 velling in religious excitement night after night and day af- 
 ter day." " And did not David leap before the ark?" said 
 another. — " It means, in the original, dancing, and that was 
 considered then as not indecorous, but it does not mean leap- 
 ing, with frantic movements, as you do here. [You remem- 
 ber that the shakers use the same argument for their jump- 
 ing about during service.] " Besides," said I, " are you re- 
 ally not aware of the great indecency of girls lying here, 
 stretched on the ground in the sight of numerous people, 
 men and women stepping over them; nor of the injurious 
 consequences with which the inhaling of this shocking dust, 
 so near the ground, for hours together, must be pregnant?" 
 No answer was given, but the elderly man advised some 
 girls to carry one of them into their sleeping or boarding 
 tent; and when she was lifted up, I observed how she stif- 
 fened her body and suddenly cramped her hands together. 
 I have the strongest suspicion that this case was one of de- 
 cided deception. Only remember how often the love of 
 notoriety induces females to practise all kinds of deceits: 
 sometimes they fall into religious fits, sometimes they read 
 with their fingers, sometimes they fall into convulsions every 
 third day, at the precise minute, &c. 
 
( 321 ) 
 
 We parted good friends, and continued our conversation 
 the next morning. I was glad none of their ministers were 
 present, because they would have allowed me little chance to 
 bring in what I had to say. The volubility of their tongues 
 is really immense, owing to their constantly speaking in 
 real or assumed passion, to their speaking so often, and 
 having, of course, accustomed their minds to a certain 
 train of ideas and their tongue to certain wards and phrases. 
 
 I freely confess that I look very differently upon the tra- 
 velling preachers from what I do. upon their people. The 
 latter are deluded, and pay with grief and mental tor- 
 ments for their delusion. But the travelling, preachers, 
 whether they are deluded or not, set up as preachers, and 
 yet are so grossly ignorant of the most common know- 
 ledge requisite for a right understanding of certain pas- 
 sages of the Bible, they preach with such unanswerable 
 boldness from some passages totally misunderstood by 
 them, because they have not the requisite knowledge of 
 biblical antiquity, — they work so intentionally upon the 
 deluded minds of their hearers, in order to bring them to 
 a desired state of excitement, they are so uncharitable in 
 their exhortations, and in all their conceptions so crude, that 
 they produce a feeling of abhorrence. 
 
 When we went away, after our first conversation, a gen- 
 tleman addressed me, saying, " Believe me, you made seve- 
 ral doubtful in their minds: tliese people are utterly igno- 
 norant in matters of religion, and give themselves up to 
 this kind af sectarianism, because they know no better;" and 
 indeed I was surprised to hear several times from these 
 persons who were so positive in their assurances of damna- 
 tion, &c.: "I cannot answer you, because I have not read 
 the Bible so much as you have." 
 
 Consider now the deplorable effect which a camp-meeting 
 must produce upon health, domestic happiness, industry and 
 national wealth. Here are girls and young men who, the 
 Sunday before, had been probably three times to church; on 
 Monday the camp-meeting began. They remained in this 
 
 41 
 
^ ( 322 ) 
 
 state of excitement, fatigue and exhausting way of living 
 for a whole week; on Sunday, the minister announced there 
 would be again three times service, and that the Lord's sup- 
 per would be administered. For what can these people be fit 
 after this long indulgence in fanaticism? Certainly not for 
 any kind of the common, and, therefore, most important 
 duties, upon which our whole happiness so much depends. 
 How entirely must they become unfitted by these gross ex- 
 citements for what must be the end of all religion, the true 
 refinement of the soul, the elevation of charity, the peace 
 of mind, and the development of our best powers! 
 
 Could those who are their leaders, but be induced to 
 read Brigham on the Influence of mental Excitement upon 
 Health.* They might learn there, among a number of 
 other useful facts, that insanity in the state of Connecti- 
 cut is twice as frequent as in Europe, and there is no 
 reason to suppose that it should not be nearly or equally 
 as frequent in many other states. Yet we ought to have 
 less insanity than Europe, because all our relations in 
 life are much more simple. Religious excitement and too 
 early instruction, (not education,) whether they originate 
 from a mistaken notion of parental duty, or from vicious 
 parental vanity, are at present like two scourges of our 
 country. They will probably wear out, like other excite- 
 ments, but not before having destroyed thousands of vic- 
 tims. Strange, that religion, which has been given to man 
 to calm and comfort him, to give him peace and happiness, 
 is made a tool of, to ruin our health and destroy in the surest 
 way our wellbeing. The Greek impairs his constitution 
 
 * Remarks on the Influence of Mental Cultivation and Mental Excitement 
 upon Health; by A. Brigham, M. D. 2d. ed. Boston, 1833: a small work, 
 which we would take this opportunity of recommending- most earnestly to 
 all American mothers and ministers. — Dr. Brigham enumerates, among others, 
 the many religious papers, periodicals, occasional publications, &c., read in a 
 single place, as Hartford. The reader may in addition refer to the American 
 Almanac for 1835, page 279 and seq., where he will find a list of the exti-a- 
 ordmary number of religious papers published here, not a small part of most 
 of which is occupied with mere controvei-sy. — Editor. 
 
( 323 ) 
 
 by a rigid fasting of forty days, allowing himself nothing but 
 bread and olives; the Jew abstains for many hours from any 
 nourishment, solid or liquid; the methodist undermines his 
 whole system by mental and physical means. — Juggernaut 
 travels with his crushing wheels over the world, and the in- 
 fatuated cry, Behold how powerful he is! 
 
 I am not against fasting on general grounds. On the con- 
 trary, I believe it to be very salutary, and especially neces- 
 sary in our mode of social life, that some time should be 
 dedicated to reflection and abstaining from enjoyments, 
 those of the palate of course included. We are but too apt 
 to allow ourselves to go on without much reflection, and it 
 is therefore very useful to fix a certain time for directing 
 our ideas more especially to serious subjects, because with- 
 out such a fixed period, they will be forgotten by most. But 
 as soon as this fasting itself is considered as a good work, 
 or made use of only to change the dishes, it becomes an 
 abuse. Never omit, my friend, to go in your healthy days, 
 from time to time, through the long rooms of an hospital. 
 Otherwise, you forget that there are many of your fellow- 
 men in bitter agony. Nor omit to see man happy, when 
 you are afflicted, or you will forget that happiness is yet on 
 earth. Shun not the sight of misery; turn not from the view 
 of happiness. — But I am preaching! 
 
 Add to this the many thousand other excitements which 
 man is getting up every day, as so many new idols to be 
 adored, in politics — in regard to which many papers and 
 people might adopt as their motto, what Mr. GutzlafF found 
 as a sign on a house on the Pei-ho: Idols and Budhas of all 
 Descriptions newly made and repaired — in regard to rank, in 
 — but my letter would never end in this style. 
 
 I am surprised that in the vast number of methodists, 
 among whom are many respectable people, not one has as 
 yet dared to raise his voice against camp-meetings, and yet 
 there must be many sober-minded members of this sect, who 
 heartily disapprove of them. 
 
 When we left the " camp," after three o'clock, we saw the 
 
( 324 ) 
 
 bright moon and a starlight sky. What a contrast between 
 the calm majesty of the heavens and the scenes of man's 
 fanaticism, which we had just left. How much wiser would 
 the actors in them have behaved, had they made a few con- 
 templations on that great subject. 
 
 At nine o'clock on Saturday morning, a procession was 
 formed, when each member shook hands with each minister. 
 We had then a sight of every individual, and I was horror- 
 struck at the dire expression of many countenances among 
 those who came up. Some continued their distortions and 
 frightful movements even in this procession, some looked 
 down, many girls cried, and looked shockingly worn out. 
 Beware, beware ye who promote this fanaticism, what you 
 are enacting — literally the most revolting physical and men- 
 tal mischief, to the advancement of ignorance and the de- 
 priving your fellow-beings of the choicest blessings — peace 
 of spirit, and an enlightened mind. 
 
 There are many reasons, physical, moral and political, by 
 which we must explain the great religious excitement now 
 prevailing in the United States, and extending to more than 
 the methodist sect; but my letter would assume too much 
 the character of an essay, were I even briefly to touch upon 
 these causes, and, perhaps, it has had too much of that ap- 
 pearance already. But one cause I must be permitted to 
 mention, since it is not so easily detected as the others, and 
 yet is, in my opinion, very powerful in its effect. 
 
 The American is an independent being; his government 
 is founded upon an appeal to the reason of every indivi- 
 dual, and as there is nothing in human life — no principle 
 of action, no disposition or custom which forms an isolated 
 part of his being, but must necessarily send its ramifications 
 in every direction through his whole character, so also this 
 spirit of independence, although productive of much good 
 in many respects, induces the American sometimes to act 
 for himself, in circumstances where he cannot have sufficient 
 knowledge or experience to guide him. And this is perhaps 
 in few cases mor« apparent than in those in which medical 
 
( 325 ) 
 
 knowledge is required to act with safety. Every American 
 is a quack, and remedies, which on the European continent 
 are considered by the people with a kind of awe, are admi- 
 nistered in American families with a boldness which sur- 
 prises every foreigner. A mother will give to her child 
 calomel or laudanum, as if they were the m.ost innocent 
 remedies that could be employed. If an American is sick, 
 he first quacks for a long time for himself, or, which in 
 most cases is not much better, allows an apothecary to 
 quack him. Generally, therefore, serious and already ne- 
 glected cases come under the eye of the physician, and to 
 this cause, perhaps, is partly owing the bold character of 
 American medical practice in general. In no other coun- 
 tries, I believe, are the great mass of the people so ready to 
 use quack medicines, as in England and the United States. 
 In France, there seems to me to be less of this abuse; but 
 nowhere so little as in Germany. I speak now of common 
 quack medicines, panaceas, catholicons, &c., not of quacke- 
 ries en gros, such as Hahnemann's homeopathics. 
 
 Calomel and laudanum, the two trunnions of the gun 
 from which American country medicine shoots its grape- 
 shot, (often supported and seconded by the lancet,) are also 
 used unsparingly in families without special advice of the 
 physician. I have been startled at finding with what te- 
 merity the latter, especially, is administered by parents to 
 children, both in the cities and, in a still greater degree, 
 in the country. To such an extent is this abuse carried, 
 that laudanum is called simply drops. If a child is a lit- 
 tle restless and disturbs those around it, laudanum is im- 
 mediately given. I know a farmer's family in which every 
 child receives regularly some " drops " before going to bed. 
 That there are many children killed by laudanum, paragoric 
 and other preparations, I have not the slightest doubt. I 
 need not say how injurious this practice must eventually 
 be to the whole nervous system, which it reduces to a state 
 of morbid irritability, calculated to lead to those religious 
 excesses in the consideration of which we have been en- 
 
( 326 ) 
 
 gaged, and which in turn promote to a greater degree the 
 excitement of the nervous temperament, while on the other 
 hand this unwarrantable use of opium creates, at a later 
 period, that immense craving for strong liquors, which with 
 many ends in habitual drunkenness, but with an incalcula- 
 bly greater number in habitual drinking, not characterized 
 by any excesses, but manifesting its melancholy conse- 
 quences by fatal diseases, whose true cause remains perhaps 
 unknown to the sufferer himself Temperance societies 
 ought to turn their attention to this calamitous malpractice 
 and systematic preparation of children for a future abuse of 
 strong liquors. 
 
 Though, probably, not so fatal in regard to physical conse- 
 quences, as the exposure and fatigue in camp-meetings must 
 be, but equally objectionable in itself, was the excitement 
 which I witnessed in the cathedral of St. Januarius, in Na- 
 ples. In a small tabernacle on the grand altar of this church 
 are preserved the head of the patron saint of the city, and 
 two vials containing his blood. The latter is in a solid state, 
 except when placed before the head, when it miraculously 
 liquefies. The ceremony of this miracle is repeated three 
 times a year. It is considered as a sign of peculiar grace, 
 foreboding great blessings to the city, if the blood becomes 
 liquid immediately when placed before the other relic; on 
 the other hand, the anxiety and terror shown, especially 
 by the women, when the blood refuses for a long time to 
 liquefy, are surprising. The vials stand on the altar, and a 
 priest is near to try from time to time, by moving them, 
 whether the adored substance has become liquid or not; 
 while a large number of believers kneel before it, praying 
 and imploring the saint to grant the miracle, growing more 
 and more urgent in their supplication every moment that the 
 liquefaction is protracted. When I was in that paradisiacal 
 country, the blood of the saint had remained solid much 
 beyond its usual time — if I remember right, a day and a 
 half; I went with a friend of mine to see the ceremony. 
 The alarming news had already spread over the city, and a 
 
( 327 ) 
 
 large concourse of people had assembled. Two women at- 
 tracted our particular attention. They knelt with their 
 arms stretched out toward heaven, betraying by their wide 
 and staring eyes a most intense anxiety, the fervor of ma- 
 niacs. They uttered imploring words, which had far more 
 the character of imprecations than prayers.* In fact, they 
 boldly reproached the saint for his refusal of the neces- 
 sary miracle. And every time the officiating priest lifted 
 the vial, and showed that the sacred contents were yet in a 
 solid state, the excitement and feverish vehemence rose still 
 higher. At length it became liquid, and the rush to the altar 
 was so sudden and universal, that in a moment we found our- 
 selves before it, where the vial was presented to us to be 
 kissed, after which the priest touched our foreheads with the 
 sacred vessel. The whole scene had a very strong tincture 
 of that clamor and religious passion, of which we read as 
 having accompanied some sacred rites of the ancients. 
 
 There was, also, a considerable number of negroes at the 
 camp-meeting of Westchester: a separate place had been as- 
 signed to them, nor had they any tent. They seemed to me to 
 behave very quietly here; it is not so in the meeting-houses 
 of the colored people. There, their boisterous violence is 
 greater in proportion to their greater ignorance. Some years 
 ago I went into one of the principal methodist meeting- 
 houses of colored people in Philadelphia, and I never shall 
 forget the impression made upon me by the unbounded ex- 
 citement and passion of the congregation. The preacher, "a 
 mulatto, spoke incoherently on a variety of subjects, thi-ow- 
 ing in, at the same time, a number of passages of the Bible, 
 
 * Many of our readers will hardly understand this passage; yet it is true, 
 that the great vivacity and excitability, peculiar to the inhabitants of southern 
 Italy, often cany them on this occasion so utterly beyond tlieir own wits, 
 that a language is used toward St. Januarius, which does not only appear to 
 a foreigner as threatening, but which actually is in part composed of tlu-eats 
 and reproaches. That the women far exceed the men in this religious clamor 
 is a matter of course. — Of what the contents of these vials consist, no unini- 
 tiated person can say; to look at them is all that is granted, and a Davy or 
 Berzelius never touched them. — Editor. 
 
( 328 ) 
 
 much in the style of all fanatics. His gesticulations were 
 violent in the highest degree; a large mug with water stood 
 in the pulpit, from which he took frequent draughts. It 
 was not long before his ideas concentrated upon the constant 
 theme — the torments of the damned, which he depicted not 
 without the eloquence and poetry of high passion. I re- 
 member some of his fanciful descriptions. — " Imagine," 
 he said, " that you will be for ten thousand years on the 
 bottom of the sea, and mountains of rocks weighing upon 
 your breast." The people uttered a deep groan. " Imagine 
 that no being on earth or in heaven, or in all creation, 
 listens to your agony." The people groaned in still greater 
 excitement. " Imagine ten thousand years more, alone, 
 without a single friend, without a soul, not even the conso- 
 lation of a fellow sufferer." The groans and shrieks be- 
 came louder and louder, and the preacher at length wrought 
 himself to such a pitch of excitement, after he had called 
 with a loud voice, " Hear ye the trumpets, hear ye?" that 
 he himself could find no longer either words or images; and, 
 bending forward over the pulpit, he waved several times 
 with both his arms in different directions, and uttered a loud, 
 tremulous groan. This was the sign for a general convul- 
 sion of the meeting: screaming, shrieking, moaning, calling 
 to absent persons, weeping, praying, stamping, groaning were 
 heard or seen in every part of the church; while, in con- 
 trast with this scene, I observed an old negro without any 
 signs of violence, over whose dark cheeks rolled the big 
 tears of contrition. 
 
 After some time the agitation subsided; the preacher was 
 heard again praying, first in tones comparatively calm and 
 moderate; but, as his excitement increased, his utterance 
 partook more and more of the former violence, and his 
 prayer ended by his grasping the pulpit with both hands 
 and actually stretching both his legs far out behind in the 
 air, from the mere overflowing of passion — a phrensy incapa- 
 ble of being any longer expressed in definite words, and seek- 
 ing vent in these vehement movements of the body. That 
 
• ( 329 ) 
 
 the hearers followed in their agitation their preacher at a 
 proportionate distance, was natural. There was no emotion, 
 it was all intoxication — it was the bewildering opiutn of 
 passion, instead of the pure wine of religion, which strength- 
 ens the weary wanderer on his long and toilsome path; it 
 was a religious running amuck. 
 
 The same stages of excitement were run through, when, to- 
 ward the conclusion of the service, the servant of the board- 
 ing-house where I lodged, and who acted it seems as clerk, 
 uttered his fervent prayer. "Wasn't it fine?" said hej when 
 I left the meeting-house, and he saw me. 
 
 I should not have given you these descriptions, had I in 
 the least to fear that you will peruse them by way of amuse- 
 ment: they are, in my opinion, of a character but too grave. 
 I give them as contributions to the study of the human soul, 
 and much as 1 abhor the amusing ourselves by the recital of 
 man's aberration, madness and crime, I am equally disposed 
 to discountenance the smothering of a true knowledge of man 
 by ill-timed delicacy. Let the ti-uth be unveiled, and let him 
 who is zealous of knowing man, boldly look reality into the 
 face. Unwarped knowledge of bare reality must accom- 
 pany and direct our reiTections on man and society, lest we 
 should never be enabled to choose appropriate means for 
 realizing the best and wisest plans. 
 
 These preachers resemble, in their violence, the monks or 
 street preachers whom I have often seen in Italy, when, in 
 great agitation, they pace upand down, a crucifix in one hand, 
 and a handkerchief in the other, to remove their profuse 
 perspiration; now loudly calling upon the faithful, now of- 
 fering them the crucifix to kiss, now threatening and fulmi- 
 nating, now supplicating and imploring. And with them, 
 too, the torments of the infernal regions formed a frequent 
 theme of their addresses, to which the hearers responded 
 with their well known o Gesii, o Gesii, misericordia, though, 
 with them, this theme is often varied with that of indulgences. 
 I have heard many, many startling sermons, and speeches 
 on religion, and the offering of indulgences "cheap, re- 
 
 42 
 
( 330 ) 
 
 ally cheap, if you consider," as once a monk said to me, 
 and the long lists of indulgences regulated by year and 
 month at the church-doors, or the roba'santa, as the Italians 
 often call the various articles offered for the edification of 
 the faithful in Loretto or Rome, or almost any place in Italy, 
 formed certainly not the least surprising addition. 
 
 I find in my journal, on November 25, 1822, an account 
 of a street sermon in Rome, which I will translate as accu- 
 rately as I can, though things of this kind sound in Italian 
 both more striking and, in some respects, less positive. I 
 remember the whole perfectly well, and that I wrote it down 
 as soon as I had returned home. The passage is this: 
 
 " After having seen the church of St. Gregory, beauti- 
 fully situated on Mons Coelius, I went again to the Co- 
 liseum (the mighty fabric, which tyranny seems to have 
 raised to reconcile posterity to its existence — the quarry for 
 the palace-castles of the Orsini and other Roman families*) 
 and found here again the old man in soiled garment, preach- 
 ing to the peasants. Sometimes he sung the credo, &c., the 
 peasants and children sung after him; then he preached in 
 the most familiar style; suddenly he addresses one: 'Who 
 has created the heaven?' Answer: 'God.' — 'Might he let 
 the heavens fall down?' and, answering himself, he con- 
 tinued, ' certainly.' ' Could he break down the earth?' 
 ' Most undoubtedly !' and now he spoke of earthquakes, sud- 
 den deaths and the oath " accidente." He flew from one 
 subject to another, and spoke of the first Christians, (' at- 
 tento." he stamped with his foot;) they used to keep all 
 feast days, and that of St. Andrews too.' ' Now,' said he, 
 
 * The Coliseum is so mighty a fabric, that the stones form any buildings 
 in Rome were obtained from it. The Teatro Marcello, which Augustus 
 caused to be built and dedicated to Marcellus, the son of his sister Octavia, 
 was changed in the middle ages, into a fortified palace of tlie Orsini family, 
 who had obtained permission from the pope to take the stones necessary 
 for their building from the Coliseum. And yet after all these spoliations, 
 enough remains of this edifice, to show its gigantic dimensions. A clear 
 moonshine, such as is common in Rome, falling upon these vast mins, piled 
 up like rocks, is one of the most impressive sights. — Editoh. 
 
. ( 331 ) 
 
 * if you appear at the gate of heaven, and knock at the door 
 (he knocked himself against the wall) St. Peter will ask, 
 ' Who's there?' ' I am a sinner.' ' Have you paid proper 
 regard to me?' ' Yes, sir.' ' Have you properly kept my 
 feasts?' ' Yes, sir.' ' And those of my dear brother St. 
 Andrew, likewise?' 'No!' 'And why not?' 'Because 
 the festival was abolished.' ' Go along, go along, I have 
 nothing to do with you; yes, yes go along I say, begone.' 
 'And where shall we go?' ' Where you like, I don't care?' 
 — ' Thus,' continued he, ' eternal complaint is raised against 
 the many festivals, and here you see the consequences.' " 
 His sermon lasted yet for a long time. While he was preach- 
 ing, people began to assemble to hear a monk, who spoke in 
 a somewhat higher style, but again with uncommon viva- 
 city. The old man is paid by a pious society. 
 
 On the 19th of January, 1823, I heard another man 
 preaching in the coliseo. In the course of his address he 
 asked his hearers, "Who is the prince of the church? 
 {principe della chiesa.") " St. John," one of the people 
 answered. " St. John ! what stupidity ! — St. Peter, my dearest 
 friend; are you so stupid! St. John! — St. Peter, ass! Who 
 of you calls himself John?" "I, sir," said a lad of about 
 seventeen. "Well, now look here: St. John came to preach 
 penitence before Christ, that people should make good 
 Christians of themselves, in every thing and also in their 
 customs. Now, thou wearest Turkish pantaloons, and the 
 Turks are not Christians. Go therefore to your father and 
 ask him to have your pantaloons made tighter," The lad 
 had somewhat wide pantaloons made of some blue stuff'. A 
 few minutes after an old man, and one of about forty years, 
 both of this congregation, quarreled with each other, as to 
 which had taken off his cap first at a passing clergyman, 
 since the preacher had scolded his little congregation for not 
 showing due regard to this priest, who " was nevertheless 
 spending his life in praying for them." 
 
 I have now spoken of so much startling preachmg, that I 
 will give you a sermon which appears to me one of the sub- 
 
( 332 ) 
 
 limest I ever heard. At any rate there is no ranting or cant 
 in it. An acquaintance of mine marched as a volunteer 
 against the French in 1813, and had been made, by the 
 time to which I refer, an officer. Previous to his taking 
 arms he had been a student of theology, and is now a mi- 
 nister. On the morning of the battle at Leipzig, the com- 
 mander of his battalion called upon him to preach to the 
 soldiers. The usual scaffold of drums was formed; the re- 
 giment was placed on a hill, the view from which extend- 
 ed over a large part of the field of the largest battle ever re- 
 corded — the giant battle, as it often has been termed. It is 
 easy to imagine how the preacher felt when he stood on his 
 elevation, and looked on his brethren in arms, and on the ex- 
 tensive plain which was soon to drink the blood of the brave 
 in torrents. He began, " Brethren, warriors — there is the 
 enemy of our country — there is God (pointing toward hea- 
 ven) — pray" — he could say no more. The whole congre- 
 gation in arms prayed in silence, when the distant thunder 
 of artillery called them to their martial duty, and gave the 
 signal that the murderous contest was beginning, which raged 
 three days, and decided the fate of Europe. 
 
( 333 ) 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 " JJ/ que no Tia visfo d Sevilh, 
 No ha visto maravilla,- 
 El que no ha visto d Granada, 
 No ha visto nada." 
 Pero el que d Niagara vi6, 
 Todo h bueno se hallo.* 
 
 The last is, at all events, as true as the first and second 
 positions; but have no fear, I will try to be sober. 
 
 Nature is a book; this is so true that it has become a com- 
 monplace. The readers of this book of nature are various 
 as the readers of other works. Some few ponder silently 
 on the great contents of this sacred volume, faithfully 
 striving to perceive the spirit of its author, as an humble 
 reader is anxious to wed to his mind the contents of a book 
 written by a master. And, as a volume of deep contents forms 
 the bridge on which the minds of the author and his earnest 
 reader meet, so will the contemplative student of nature's 
 pages perceive the breath of life of its great author, when 
 
 • The four first lines are proverbially used by the people of Granada; they 
 mean, " He who has not seen Seville has not seen any wonder; he who has 
 not seen Granada has seen nothing." A similar expression is, "A quien 
 Dios lo quiso bien en Granada le did de comer" (him, whom God loves, he 
 g'ives his bread to eat in Granada. ) The two last lines, probably added by 
 the author, mean, "But he who has seen Niagara, has seen every thing worthy 
 of admiration." — Editor. 
 
( 334 ) 
 
 he peruses them in solitary meditation. He will forget the 
 letters and the words and phrases before him, and be carried 
 away by the thought which lives within them. Other read- 
 ers approach this book as they take up any other work, 
 with a mind whetted by egotism. They read it, but cannot 
 rid themselves, in doing so, of their own self; they do not 
 enter on its contents freely, and as a scholar who has to 
 learn, but as a reviewer who thinks himself above the book. 
 Others read with the eye of vanity, to be able to quote it, to 
 appear in society as well read and learned; to grace and orna- 
 ment their own pages. Others look at it as a thoughtless girl 
 hastily skims over the pages of a new novel, forgetting to-day 
 what they read yesterday, merely to drive away time, which 
 for others rushes by so inexorably swift; or, to catch a few 
 passages for the motley scrap-book of their shallow mind. 
 Others, — plodding tourists, — dwell upon every syllable and 
 letter; but when they stop they remember the words only 
 which they have seen, as a reader, fatigued by long study, 
 when morning begins to throw her glances on the book which 
 he opened in the evening, passes with his eye repeatedly over 
 a page, and yet cannot any longer comprehend its meaning. 
 There are other readers of nature, who peruse her with noisy 
 devotion; who would make people believe that they feel 
 much because they exclaim, admire, and talk much; others 
 who read with garrulous sentimentality; and still others who 
 spell nature's poetry, as the proof reader goes over the most 
 exalted passages to the compositor, with heavy, loud mo- 
 notony, every syllable and comma well pronounced: 
 
 As-if-to-sweep-down-all-things-in-its-track (comma) 
 Charm-ing-the-eye-with-dread (comma-dash) a-match-less-ca-ta-ract 
 
 (full-stop.) 
 
 To which of the above mentioned classes I belong you 
 must judge. I only know to which I would wish to belong, 
 and that I cannot be counted among those who — some in re- 
 ality, some apparently — are affected in the presence of the 
 noble aspect of Niagara, more deeply with the sensation of 
 the power of God, than they ever were in their lives be 
 
( 335 ) 
 
 fore. The following pages and the verses I send you,* how- 
 ever poor they may be in themselves, will show you that I 
 cannot be called a thoughtless gazer on the mighty cataracts; 
 but I own, I cannot see how they can impress us more 
 or even so much with the idea of God's power as many 
 other phenomena. The firmament, the sea, from a moun- 
 tain near the shore, the lofty Alps, when they appear for the 
 first time to the lonely wanderer with the rosy evening glow 
 on their hoary summits, like Raphael's Jove with his gray 
 locks, yet cheeks glowing with immortal vigor, have a more 
 expansive power upon my mind than the great falls. 
 
 It is painful to see how many people seem to require 
 grand and powerful physical phenomena in order to be 
 roused, and how they seem thus to adhere to matter, not 
 elevating themselves to a contemplation of the principle of 
 life. One walk in the spring in the open fields, when the 
 blades shoot forth from the ground, and variegated flowers 
 bud, and trees put on their new garments, all taking nou- 
 rishment from the same ground and the same air, but changing 
 it by unseen and unknown processes with subtle delicacy, 
 into opposite colors, into juices of the most different pro- 
 perties, into millions of different forms, reminds me more 
 of the central hearth of life, of the power which pervades 
 all nature with unaccountable laws, — the breath which blew 
 life into matter. You will often find that people seem as- 
 tounded at some contrivance in nature which, when you in- 
 quire closely into the grounds of their astonishment, is found 
 to be in fact nothing else than a surprise that nature should 
 have been as inventive and wise as man himself; for I speak 
 here of cases, when, in nature, the application of a principle 
 which man has independently found out and applied, is dis- 
 covered. The fructification of sage is certainly a very inte- 
 resting subject of observation and reflection; but the circum- 
 stance that the stamina work like levers, and powder, with 
 pollen, the back of the insect, which searches for the honey 
 
 • Probably a German poem on Niagara, wliich we have seen, published in 
 Germany. — Editor. 
 
( 336 ) 
 
 exuded in the bottom of the flower, so that the insect must 
 carry this powder to the female blossoms of the same species, 
 seems to me, if we once admit a difference in these subjects, 
 not to be calculated to excite our admiration of the power 
 of nature's God, in as great a degree, as the colors of these 
 very flowers, which are formed by processes as yet entirely 
 unapproached. In short, the life in nature is a subject much 
 greater than the contrivances, but the pulley of the wrist 
 seems to many people more admirable than the living pulse 
 close by. 
 
 There seems, moreover, to exist a general disposition 
 among men, in my opinion founded upon an erroneous 
 conception, to draw a sharp line of distinction between the 
 works of nature and those of man, and to admire the former 
 at the expense of the latter. This feeling was carried, at 
 one time, so far, that it was even a usual pretence to find 
 the most common object in nature more admirable than the 
 most perfect work of art. Yet what is man? Is he excluded 
 from nature? does he stand without her? or is he, like all 
 the rest of creation, wrapt up in the all-enshrouding spirit 
 of the Creator? Can he sever himself for a moment from all 
 the matter which surrounds him, and to which he is bound 
 by a thousand ties, and can he abandon for a moment the 
 laws which form the principles of his body and his soul? Is 
 his mind not a work of God, as well as a plant, or a moun- 
 tain? are we not taught to consider it God's greatest crea- 
 tion? Are not the laws, according to which the mind of man 
 works and conceives, his laws, and is not a statue of Apollo 
 conceived and made after the images of perfection which 
 he moulded and set up in the noblest souls, as much a work 
 of his creation as the towering Alps? Does it indeed reflect 
 his almighty power less than the "wing of a bee?" Not to 
 me. When I stand before the noble fabric — the cathedral 
 of Cologne, I perceive God's spirit in it as much as I see it 
 in the heaven-kissing hills. When Palestrina's heavenly 
 peals swell upon my ear, I feel its presence, as when a glo- 
 rious sun rises out of the sea, and changes the lilies which 
 
( 337 ) 
 
 a silvery moon had strewn on the main, for the roses and ru- 
 bies of the morn. 
 
 That there is a sublimity in the great works of nature 
 which more powerfully affects most minds than the sublimity 
 of works of art, I admit; but this does not prove that there 
 is less of this character in a perfect statue or painting than 
 in a mountain scenery or a cataract; but it requires perhaps a 
 more cultivated mind to be as susceptible of the sublimity 
 of the former as of that of the latter; for the grandeur of art 
 is of a more spiritual cast The impression of awe, which 
 the sublime includes, is inore powerful in stupendous works 
 or great phenomena of nature;: but as to the other qualities of 
 the sublime, I would not make any difference in general. 
 
 You have read nearly all the late accounts of Niagara, and 
 I shall not detain you by a fresh attempt at description. I 
 merely intend to give you some items in relation to this 
 magnificent spectacle. If I now and then repeat what others 
 have said, you may apply what Gothe said of Italy: Let 
 every one give his. impressions; there is room enough for 
 all. 
 
 It is my custom, Avhenever any thing great or powerful 
 is brought within the sphere of my observation, be it of a 
 moral character, an action, a great era, a work of art, a 
 phenomenon in nature, a beauty, or an object of sublimi- 
 ty, — first to allow it its full and undivided effect upon my 
 mind, and then to endeavoi- to analyze it — to discover its 
 component parts, in order to become acquainted, if possi- 
 ble, with the process by which I have been affected. It is 
 by this latter operation alone, that we can obtain a calm, 
 true and unbiassed view of intellectual or physical pheno- 
 mena; that we can deprive danger of its fearful aspects, or 
 bring moral sublimity within the grasp of our emulation. 
 
 I have performed this analysis with regard to the Falls. 
 After I had gazed, and given myself passively up to my 
 sensations, I endeavored to trace out, as far as an individual 
 can, the elements of my impressions. In writing to you I 
 
 43 
 
( 338 ) 
 
 shall perhaps follow somewhat the opposite course; and be 
 obliged to begin with the little and rise to the grand. But in 
 order to do this, let me hastily sketch, once more, some of 
 the most characteristic outlines of the picture of the great 
 cataract. 
 
 The vast inland seas west of the Niagara, send from out 
 the mighty basins their waters toward the Falls, and all 
 their never-ceasing volumes tend to this point, which forms 
 the greatest beauty of that chain of lakes whose vast sheets 
 vie with the sea, extending nearly fifteen hundred miles in 
 length, and constituting the ornament and a great blessing 
 of our North. The distant St. Louis, which in its begin- 
 ning moves in a doubtful* course, as if undecided whether 
 to contribute its contents to the giant river of our west, and 
 travel with it, three thousand miles, down to the gulf of 
 Mexico, or empty itself into the basin of Lake Superior, — 
 is the most remote source of this chain of waters. The last 
 named lake, with a sheet of thirty thousand square miles. 
 Lake Michigan, with a surface of fifteen thousand, Lake 
 Huron with one of eighteen thousand, and all three of 
 amazing depth, so that their bottom is nearly three hundred 
 feet below the ocean tides, while their surface is from six 
 to seven hundred feet above the level of the sea, — and Lake 
 Erie, with a sheet of eight thousand square miles, — all these 
 reservoirs send their waters to Niagara. 
 
 Niagara Strait, a channel of thirty-seven miles, connect- 
 ing Lakes Erie and Ontario, is about a mile in width at its 
 commencement, but narrows and again widens even to as 
 much as five and six miles, and bends in various directions 
 before it arrives at the Falls, after a course of about twenty 
 miles. In some places its depth has been ascertained to be 
 two hundred and forty feet; in others it is probably much 
 greater. Shortly before arriving at the Falls, the course of 
 the stream is a little north of west; rolling over the Falls it 
 
 • The course of the St. Louis is, in the beginning', directed toward the 
 west, as if it were to join the Mississippi, — Editor. 
 
( 339 ') 
 
 makes an abrupt angle, and runs toward north north-east. 
 Not less variable than the breadth and direction of the 
 strait, is the rapidity of the current. Near Black Rock, 
 the velocity is probably not less than from six to eight miles 
 an hour; the stream then glides quietly along, at the rate of 
 not more than from two to four miles, like the silent brood- 
 ing of a people, mocking patience, before a great revolution. 
 At the Rapids, above the Falls, the current assumes an im- 
 mense velocity; and the water below the Falls, rushes on, in 
 some places with mad fury, in all, with great rapidity as far 
 as Lewiston and Queenston. The descent of the water in 
 the strait is three hundred and thirty-four feet. 
 
 The banks of the strait are low as far as the Falls; from 
 this point the water flows in a deep ravine with rocky walls 
 as high as three hundred and seventy feet, which gradually 
 lower near Lake Ontario. It is this sudden change of the 
 bed which produces the Falls. Immediately below them 
 these stupendous walls, sometimes perpendicular, some- 
 times with beetling rocks, and defying with very few ex- 
 ceptions the best crags-man, are about three hundred feet 
 high. The distance between the two landing-places of 
 the ferries, nearly a mile below the Falls, is about seventy- 
 six rods. You have then the depth and width of this ra- 
 vine: its rugged sides are adorned and crested with shrubs 
 and trees. They run nearly parallel; at the beginning or 
 upper end of the ravine, they join in a curve. Over this 
 curve of the ravine rolls the Niagara in three distinct 
 Falls, divided from each other by two islands enthroned 
 on the edge of the ravine. One of them. Goat Island, the 
 largest of a group of three, is quite at the end of the south- 
 eastern side of the ravine, leaving on its western side or 
 end only the closing curve, over which the largest of the 
 cataracts, the Crescent Fall, flows into the deep abyss below. 
 On the northern side of Goat Island, and between it and the 
 small Prospect Island, is the Central Fall. To the north of 
 the latter island, again, is the Schlosser Fall. The bend of 
 Niagara is so peculiar, that it requires some exertion of your 
 
( 340 ) 
 
 mind to arrive at a clear perception of the four cardinal 
 points in relation to the cataract. You ought, however, to 
 represent clearly to yourself the precise situation of the 
 Falls and their bends; and the better to enable you to do 
 this, I send you hereby a little book, "A Manuel for the Use 
 of Visiters to the Falls of Niagara," by Mr. Ingraham, which 
 he has published merely as the forerunner of a larger work. 
 The latter will be, probably, the most complete publication 
 ever sent forth on this great work of nature. 
 
 The little book I send you contains, along with a suffi- 
 cient number of exclamations and quotations, a great many 
 facts; which will have the more value in your eyes, when I 
 assure you that the author has spared no pains and fatigue, 
 in reading and observing, to arrive as near the truth of the 
 various subjects as possible. 
 
 Goat Island contains about sixty acres, and, for a variety 
 of reasons, is a most charming spot. Prospect Island is very 
 small: I have written it down on the tablet of my memory 
 as Isola Freziosa; and a precious isle it is. It lies on the 
 brink of the lofty battlement between the two Falls on the 
 United States side, like a jutting watch-tower, placed there 
 for the purpose of affording the finest prospect of the 
 Schlosser Fall. There is one particular spot, — where you 
 tread upon the roots of a juniper, overhanging the fearful 
 precipice, — from which you can see far under you, and there 
 have a view of the waters precipitating themselves in one 
 great mass after having tumbled over the many cliffs be- 
 tween Goat Island and the main. It is one of the finest si- 
 tuations for the sight. They might have called this island, 
 the Islet, par excellence; Prospect Island sounds a little of 
 the show-case. 
 
 Let me now rapidly sketch out the upper line or edge 
 of the end of this ravine, which forms the Falls. Schlos- 
 ser, or the American Fall, as it is sometimes very loosely 
 called, the most northern of the three, is about fifty-six 
 rods in width, and one hundred and sixty-seven in perpen- 
 dicular descent. Prospect Island is about ten yards in 
 
( 341 ) 
 
 width, and the Central Fall also about ten yards. The edge 
 of the ravine, which is formed by the north-western limit 
 of Goat Island, is eighty rods, and the Crescent or Horse- 
 shoe Fall, extending from Goat Island to the Canada shore, 
 " is about a quarter of a mile in a direct line, or about half 
 a mile following the curve;"'* which, though Crescent Fall 
 is a fit name, and a thousand times better than Horse-shoe 
 Fall, resembles more a parabolic line, the longer leg of which 
 lies toward the Canada shore, and the apex of which gives 
 way to a sudden angle receding to the south-east. This an- 
 gle and the comparatively straight line close to it on the 
 west, are the causes of the production of one of the sub- 
 limest spectacles in the world, as you will see from the 
 sequel. The whole Crescent is lower than the eastern bank 
 of the ravine, which causes a much greater body of water 
 to roll over it than over either of the two other falls. The 
 perpendicular descent of the Crescent Fall is one hundred 
 and fifty-four feet, therefore, thirteen feet lower than the 
 Schlosser Fall. 
 
 From the shore of Goat Island, a bridge, called Terrapin 
 Bridge, of three hundred feet in length, is built, leading to a 
 point north of the receding angle of the Crescent just men- 
 tioned, and projecting over the falls about eight or ten feet. 
 It ends in a point, and this point, (from which you can see 
 perpendicularly down into the gulf, while under your feet 
 the waters rush and hurry on, and swell and roll over,) is 
 one of the jewel-spots, as I call them in my journal, where, 
 as I think I have mentioned already, I have placed all the 
 fine views I have seen, together — a precious list to me. The 
 tower of the Acrocorinth, the highest point of the cra- 
 ter of Vesuvius, the eastern side of the convent of the Ca- 
 maldoli, near Naples, the Konigstuhl, near Heidelberg, a 
 certain spot on the Palatino, in Rome, a spot above the 
 Hudson, near Wiehawk, Terrapin Bridge, several spots 
 in Switzerland and Tyrol, and a certain point near Mar- 
 
 * Sec Ingi'aliam's Manuel, p. 46 et seq. — Editor. 
 
( 342 ) 
 
 seilles, when you approach from Avignon, rank among 
 the solitaires of these jewels. The view from the point of 
 this bridge, though of uncommon interest, is not, however, 
 a good view of the Falls, as a whole; this can only be ob- 
 tained from below, or at a distance. 
 
 Close to this bridge has been erected a turret, which, I 
 think, is perfectly in keeping with all the gigantic objects 
 and stupendous phenomena around you, provided you can 
 bring yourself to take it for a pepper-box. But I will be 
 fair. Much, and not without reason, is said against this tur- 
 ret, yet from it you have a view of the incision or receding 
 angle of the Crescent, such as you could not possibly have 
 any where else; and, even with regard to its own appearance, 
 I must say that when on one afternoon I saw from Table- 
 Rock the rainbow resting with one end on Goat Island edge, 
 and the other on the opposite shore, like a glorious trium- 
 phal arch over the mighty cataract, this turret, seen at a dis- 
 tance, contributed not a little to beautify the great picture. 
 It was a slight indication that man was there, also; some- 
 what like a little garden which we sometimes suddenly 
 meet with, perched among the steepest rocks in a lonely 
 Alpine country. 
 
 The depth of the mass of water, where it rolls over the 
 precipice, is prodigious. Mr. Dwight estimates the quantity 
 which hourly is sent into the abyss, at 102,093,750 tons; Mr. 
 Darby at 1,672,704,000 cubic feet, and Mr. Picken at 113, 
 510,000 gallons, or 18,524,000 cubic feet per minute. These 
 estimates have been made according to the depth and velo- 
 city of Niagara at its leaving Lake Erie, near Black Rock. 
 
 The water, precipitating itself with such immense swift- 
 ness over the edge of the ravine, (it descends about fifty- 
 eight feet in the half mile immediately above the Falls,) does 
 not, as you may well imagine, drop down perpendicularly, 
 but in a parabolic line. It is believed that the waters of the 
 Crescent Fall touch the surface of the stream below about 
 fifty feet from the point, which they would reach, were the 
 fall perpendicular. The whole height, including the descent 
 
( 343 ) 
 
 of the rapids above, is given as two hundred and sixteen 
 feet. 
 
 Owing to this projecting of the waters, the traveller is ena- 
 bled to get some way behind the sheets of two of these ca- 
 taracts the Crescent and Central Falls. The passage behind 
 the latter we owe to Mr. Ingraham, who induced the own- 
 er to cut a path in the rock, about midway in the bank. If 
 the sight here is not so full of terror as behind the sheet 
 of the Crescent, you have, at least, a better opportunity of 
 studying the grace of these leaping waters, when the moving 
 crystal arch descends before your eyes, with such a stea- 
 diness and continuance, that I, who never was giddy in 
 my life, felt a powerful effect, when I looked up and fol- 
 lowed, with my eye, the rushing arch in its whole course 
 down; it was a sensation as if I were powerfully drawn af- 
 ter; and, indeed, I would not advise any one, who is liable 
 to giddiness to try this particular experiment. 
 
 It was, I own with jealous feelings I lately read, that 
 Mr. Ingraham has succeeded in getting behind this sheet 
 from below. He had long foreseen that it would be practi- 
 cable to penetrate behind this fall, though only an indivi- 
 dual who had resided so long on the spot, and familiarized 
 himself as m^uch with every appearance of the Falls, as he 
 had could have conceived the idea, and persisted so perse- 
 veringly in the attempt to realize it. The rushing streams 
 through which you must wade, the dangerous and slip- 
 pery rock, over which you must climb, the tremendous 
 noise, the streams of water which the crossing winds dash 
 in your face, and which almost prevent you from seeing 
 your companion, while your face is whipped by blasts, al- 
 together render it a most hazardous expedition. He was 
 the first who insisted upon its possibility, and the first who 
 attempted it, and if he was not actually the first who suc- 
 ceeded in the attempt, it was owing merely to a temporaiy 
 absence from Niagara. 
 
 When I had the good fortune of meeting Mr. Ingraham 
 
( 344 ) 
 
 at Niagara, we went together in a boat to the foot of the Cen- 
 tral Fall, and be made an attempt then to penetrate behind the 
 sheet while our boat was in great danger of being dashed 
 to pieces against the rocks, the current here driving violently 
 toward the shore, owing to the immense mass of water which 
 falls from the centre of Crescent Fall into the depth, and is 
 then forced violently up in the middle of the stream, by the 
 pressure of succeeding volumes of water. At that time he 
 was not successful. 
 
 Almost' all travellers go behind the sheet of the Crescent 
 Fall, at its western end. The works which you have read 
 have already informed you, that, for the first time you enter, 
 a guide is necessary to lead you through the violent blasts. 
 Most people will always require one. The spot where the 
 path ends is called Termination Rock, and is above a hun- 
 dred and fifty feet from the commencement of the volume 
 of water. You cannot arrive there otherwise than perfectly 
 drenched, and the entire novelty of the scene, incomparable 
 with any thing you have ever perceived in your life before, 
 and the difficulty of breathing, as you inhale a quantity of 
 water, would induce most people to give up the idea of pene- 
 trating to the end, had not long experience shown that, with 
 proper precaution, there is no real danger. Even most la- 
 dies who visit Niagara, go behind this sheet. 
 
 When I had arrived at the extremity of the path, and 
 looked over into the gulf — the deafening roar, the gusts of 
 water, the sight of the rebellious streams driving in all di- 
 rections, and of the watery volleys shot up from below, the 
 rolling sea above, water on all sides, and the air nauseous- 
 ly impregnated with heavy moisture; the eyes deprived of 
 half their vision, by the water which is driven into them 
 by the violent blasts; and the piercing whistling of the lat- 
 ter round the edges and sharp points of the rocks; the un- 
 certainty of the color of the waters, white, gray, green, con- 
 tinually changing, and the greenish dim light reaching you 
 through the furious waters above; the enraged froth beneath, 
 boiling in madness, that it must break against the rock* 
 
( 345 ) 
 
 peaks and points, when all that which I slowly enumerate, 
 burst in one moment upon me, my first thought or feeling 
 was, " Oh Dante, why couldst thou not see it!" 
 
 Most commentators on this great poet, (who wore the 
 best wreath on Mount Parnassus, until the inspiring maids 
 placed a still richer, on the brows of Albion's son,) say that 
 his inventive mind, has exhausted all the terrors of which 
 the human soul can conceive, and which are fit subjects for 
 poetry. I, too, was of this opinion, until I stood on Termi- 
 nation Rock. There is not once, in Dante's whole poem, even 
 an allusion to watery torment and horror, and yet how would 
 he have seized upon the sight, and wrought it into poetry! 
 I have read Dante again and again, and in many various situ- 
 ations; I belicA'e I have not remained a stranger to the spirit 
 which lives in his great work, and trust lyee/ it; and yet I am 
 convinced that he could not have seen this work of nature, 
 without showing that he had seen it, in his poem. It can- 
 not be said that Dante could not have used the horrors of 
 the water, since the belief then prevalent chose to consider 
 fire as the chief agent of infernal sufferings. Dante, though 
 in the general outlines adhering, as was necessary, to general 
 belief, is independent in all his details, and there is no reason 
 why he should not have filled one bolgia with the terrors of 
 the waters, particularly as they seera to most people more 
 terrific than those of fire. There is a clammy disgust, a scent 
 of mouldering, a sight of slime and slippery weed, a want of 
 warmth and animal life, in caverns filled with the terrors of 
 the waters, which is not inherent in fire, an element with 
 the effects of which we are much more familiarized by the 
 concerns of our daily life. Whether Dante has ever seen 
 the Evelino tumbling from the Caduta del Marmore, I know 
 not; but even if he had, it would not have afforded elements 
 at all comparable to those which would most powerfully 
 have impressed themselves upon his mind at Niagara. The 
 Evelino is not terrific; nowhere does it appear frightful. 
 Every eye-witness of both the cataracts, I fear not, will agree 
 with me. 
 
 44 
 
( 346 ) 
 
 The color of Niagara, when not changed by heavy rains, 
 is a peculiarly beautiful green, differing from sea-green, 
 as it seems to me to have more of an emerald hue in it; 
 I can only compare it to the dye of the Neckar, yet the 
 Niagara is much more beautiful. I have already spoken 
 of the salient angle in the line of the Crescent Fall, and 
 the comparatively straight line to the west of it. I send 
 you a croquis of the currents and eddies above and be- 
 low the Falls; I have taken and verified it from the little 
 wooden house above Table Rock, from the turret, from the 
 spot where the road along the Canada shore bends down to 
 the ferry house, and according to the observations I had an 
 opportunity of making, when I swam in the river immedi- 
 ately below the Falls. I had the pleasure of making a copy 
 of this chart of currents for Mr. Ingraham; but I was obliged 
 to make it on a very reduced scale, from the original croquis^ 
 so that it was impossible for me to enter all the many cur- 
 rents and counter currents below the Falls. Yet it contains 
 a delineation of the chief currents of the irritated river 
 below. 
 
 From the accompanying croquis you will perceive, that, 
 by the different sweeps of the water, a much greater quan- 
 tity rolls over the straight line of which I have just spoken, 
 and which occupies less than a third of the Crescent Fall. 
 The most beautiful part of the finest of the cataracts is owing 
 to this circumstance. This immense thick mass of water re- 
 mains unbroken down to the middle of the Falls, and the 
 color being of a fine emerald hue, it produces one dense and 
 deep sheet or mass of uncommonly beautiful color. On the 
 one side is the pointed angle which gives the very picture of 
 irresistible ingulfing, and on each side a large white foamy 
 sheet, like large borders to the green central piece. This 
 emerald part has such a compound character of compactness, 
 united with a transparent crystal elegance, it rolls over the crest 
 so majestically, and has, with all its velocity, such an appear- 
 ance of steadiness, owing to its thickness and density, and 
 yet the swelling lines on its surface, as it rolls over and de- 
 
(,347 ) 
 
 scends, form such a graceful contrast with the turmoil and 
 uproar close at hand, that there is nothing in the world to 
 which I can possibly compare it: I have never seen any 
 thing similar, even on a smaller scale — never before, ma- 
 jesty and grace thus blended. Some of the best views 
 of this part are from the window of Biddle Staircase, by 
 which you descend from Goat Island to the river be- 
 low, — from the middle of the river when you cross in the 
 ferry, — and from Table Rock, a rock which, in the form of 
 a plate, projects and forms a precipice close to the north- 
 eastern end of the Crescent. It is a hundred and sixty- 
 three feet from the depth, and it projects so much that when 
 you look down, — lying, of course, flat on the ground, as 
 every experienced traveller does in such cases, — to enjoy a 
 precipice, you can see not only perpendicularly down, but 
 even under the rock. To your right you have the Crescent 
 Fall, and you may see the upper part of the emerald sheet to 
 more advantage from here than from any other spot; while 
 the rest of the great cataract has, from this point, the character 
 of the terrific. None of the three falls tumble; they leap: 
 and from Table Rock you may see the long leap which the 
 waters make, down to where the horror sf an eternal mist 
 covers the still more horrific depth. The terror of Niagara 
 from here is like the fury of a lion, who leaps with grace 
 upon his prey. 
 
 I remember well all I felt when I was on the brink 
 of the crater of Vesuvius, and, since my return, have read 
 over again my journal, in which I have entered a somewhat 
 detailed account of my expedition to that volcano; but the 
 awfulness which it inspired is not to be compared to that 
 produced by Niagara seen from this point. The unceasing 
 noise, the tone of which I have named to you in a previous 
 letter,* interrupted only by still deeper tones occasioned by 
 the falling of some more compact masses, and very similar 
 
 • It was the first G below the first line in the bass. This tone was men- 
 tioned in a previous Letter on occasion of the Trenton Falls, but by some in- 
 advertence it is called there G oUt instead of hdow the first line — an erraUnn 
 which the reader will be kind enough to coiTCct. — Editor. 
 
■7.- '■ '-**- : 
 
 to the sound' produced by large masses of snow breaking 
 from the high Alps, and rolling upon. the loose snow in the 
 valley — a tone which resembles distant thunder, — the thick 
 mist below, throu-gh which you see, toward the river, the 
 ever-boiling and madly dancing foam, and the volumes of 
 ♦ dense spray rising above a hundred feet, and through them 
 ■ again aquatic meteors ascending to a hundred and twenty feet 
 and then bursting; the ingulfing character which the falls 
 have from here, give them something far more awful in 
 their effects upon the feelings than the crater of Vesuvius. 
 
 Yet, as if placed here to comfort man, and to show him 
 that, though nature may seem for a moment to move in re- 
 bellious lawlessness, and to have broken from its fixed lines, 
 yet every atom carries its eternal law along with it, and 
 cannot move out of its character, — floats over all this 
 roar and riot of the elements a consoling rainbow formed 
 of the very water which but a moment before carried de- 
 struction in its heedless hurry, — to remind you that there is 
 order in nature where you perceive but wild disorder,and 
 that fearful struggle or loathsome dissolution returns to the 
 beauty which graces the universe, — ^that " the spirit of God 
 moveth upon the face of the waters." 
 
 The lunar bow is equally beautiful; I saw it one night, 
 tinged with a slight hue of its brighter mate, to whom the 
 sun lends his splendor. It looked like a rain-bow, pale from 
 grief; and as it rested over the foaming waters of Niagara — 
 truly like " Love watching madness with unalterable mien.'* 
 This madness of the waters is found, however, only in the 
 gulf below; where the boiling, and gushing, and leaping 
 element, as if fury had changed its nature wrestles with the 
 firm rocks and conquers them in the long struggle. 
 
 In all other places, the character of Niagara Falls, is very 
 different. I recollect the Evelino well, and a more beautiful 
 passage of descriptive poetry, than that of Byron: "The 
 roar of waters, &c.," I know not; yet it does not describe 
 Niagara. He u ould have employed different colors, a differ- 
 ent grouping, and another style to paint this cataract. 
 However, great as Byron is in description, should I wish for 
 
(.349 ) 
 
 * 
 
 one of the Falls, ahd' could I choose ambng all the masters, 
 I would say,, let Shakspeare sketch it with his firm hand. 
 The words of his descriptions, as of all his other passages, 
 are " spaced" with thought. 
 
 There is, strange as it* may sound to you, a character 
 of majestic steadiness in the Niagara Falls. Those gigan- 
 tic masses preserve their compact form, throughout one 
 half of their entire fall,, and as they roll over the precipice, 
 and descend to midway, almost unchanged, present such an 
 unbroken front, that the whole picture has about it an ap- 
 pearance as if the waters had been commanded to stand 
 still, and had' been suddenly stopped in their course. It is 
 the contrast which this distinguishing feature of the cata- 
 ract forms with the bounding leap, and the actual and known 
 velocity of the waters, together with the many other con- 
 trasts which this phenomenoh presents, the deafening noise 
 and blinding spray, v, ith the bright rainbow, and the spark- 
 ling surface of parts of the waters, the solemn roar and the 
 piercing, single tones, the cheerful vegetation on the banks, 
 and the thriving helpless weed whipped against the rock — 
 it is the thousand contrasts which you meet here, that lend 
 so inexpressible a charm to this stupendous and lovely phe- 
 nomenon, and which cause every one to take leave of it, as 
 of a friend you have learned to love, in spite of the esssential 
 sternness and grandeur of his character. 
 
 The emerald, of which I spoke above, is not seen with 
 the Schlosser, nor Central Falls; they leap in a sheet of foam 
 from their immense height. About two-thirds of the surface 
 of the water, enclosed by the Crescent Fall, are covered with 
 impenetrable spray and mist, out of which the peculiar me- 
 teors or jets I mentioned are seen to shoot up. Captain 
 Hall calls them cones, or comets. I saw them rather in the 
 shape of a hay-stack, the top of which was formed by a com- 
 pact body of water, from which a thick spray descending, 
 gave the outline of the sides.* 
 
 * This spray diverges, in descending, from the perpendicular line passing 
 through the centre of the glohular top, in an angle of forty-five degrees, — 
 
( 350 ) 
 
 Where the mist becomes thinner, you perceive the leap- 
 ing and foaming surface; a little lower down the river, the 
 surface becomes comparatively calm, yet is covered with 
 one thick coat of foam, which extends a considerable dis- 
 tance down the river — farther on the Canada side than on 
 the opposite, — forming what might be termed the snow- 
 field of waters. It was to this snow-field that I endeavored 
 to approach as near as possible, and if practicable to get 
 into it, when I made the excursion mentioned above with 
 Mr. Ingraham. I was desirous of determining the buoyancy 
 of this foamy water by immersing my body in it; but the 
 boatmen could not take us close enough up to'it. I there- 
 fore went into the water some rods below the margin of the 
 snow-field, intending to swim down to the Canada ferry 
 house, but I met with two difficulties which interrupted my 
 progress. The waves of the river, short, high and trouble- 
 some, without any real swell, — like the waves between 
 breakers, — had, besides, the peculiarity that they did not 
 throw over their foamy crest ivith the current, and, there- 
 fore, y^om the swimmer, — as the waves of the sea always 
 throw over the crest with the wind, — but against the swim- 
 mer, owing to the extreme velocity of the current. The 
 motion was at the same time violent; and it became as diffi- 
 cult to keep my breath as to struggle against these retro- 
 grade motions. The eddies in different directions were 
 besides very numerous, and irresistible by human force: 
 sometimes I would find myself on a spot at which the water 
 boiled up from below, while at the surface it glided off in all 
 directions, which made it difficult for me to work my body. 
 I do not know whether it was alone the difficulty of swim- 
 ming that gave me the feeling, or whether the water, not 
 having discharged all the air, was sensibly less buoyant; 
 certain it is that it seemed to me so. I have often swam in 
 the sea and the surf, even near rocks and breakers, and 
 having besides once proved by an uninterrupted swimming 
 of three hours and a quarter, that I can stand great fatigue 
 
 sometimes in very distinct outlines; at others, they are dissolved in indis- 
 tinct mist. — EpiTon. 
 
( 351 ) 
 
 in that way, you will believe me when I say that the diffi- 
 culties were not slight. Yet if I go another time to visit 
 the magnificent spectacle of the Cataract, I shall try to get 
 in nearer toward the north-western end of the Crescent, 
 where, as I said, the foam extends much lower down. — 
 Here you have enough of my own personage. I once 
 asked a compositor why he had an unusual quantity of the 
 capital letter I in his case. " Sir," said he, " I am com- 
 posing a book of travels." But what can a traveller do? he 
 cannot speak in the third person as a Cesar or Napoleon. 
 
 I have often watched the different forms which the single 
 parts composing this great phenomenon, adopt in falling. I 
 succeeded nowhere better in doing this than at the south- 
 western part of the Crescent, where I approached the foot 
 of the Cataract as nearly as I could, without having my 
 sight obstructed by the heavy spray. I was looking 
 up nearly perpendicularly, and saw the water rolling over 
 and descending a considerable distance in a green, trans- 
 parent arch, the outside of which was rippled by the fric- 
 tion of the air. These ripples increased as the body of 
 water fell, while the water itself began to divide. Soon it 
 assumed the form to which all liquid strives, if left to itself 
 — the globular, and looked like large crystal balls, of a much 
 lighter dye than when it was united in one mass. These 
 balls again subdivided into smaller ones, and . became of 
 course lighter in color with each subdivision, while the fric- 
 tion of the air caused particles of the surface to fly off as 
 little satellites of spray. The balls now divided so much 
 that they appeared like drops of melted glass. You may 
 have seen the exact appearance, in glass works, when drops 
 of melted glass are allowed to fall into water, to produce 
 Prince Rupert's drops. I was reminded at the time of these 
 heavy drops, which deviate from the globular form by 
 having a larger (lower) and a somewhat tapering (upper) 
 end. The tapering end of the water-drop becomes thinner 
 and the color, from a state of transparency, changes to a 
 white, owing to the intermixture of air, and a foam appears 
 on the outside of the drops, which now assume the form of 
 
( 352 ) 
 
 descending comets, with a tail of foam, and compact body 
 of water for its head. This soon splits, forms rapidly a 
 number of other smaller comets, which gradually split again 
 until they become mere spray. A part of this changes into 
 mist, and rises out of the valley of roar and struggle. Like a 
 heavy cloud it is sometimes seen hovering over the scene 
 of contest, and, in fair weather, little clouds now and then 
 detach themselves from the larger mass, and rise to unite 
 themselves with some high cloud of the sky, as if to tell the 
 tale of the fearful contest below, and to sail away with it to 
 calmer regions. 
 
 The rise of the mist depends much upon the state of the 
 weather, the wind, and the time of the day. A very heavy 
 spray often rises out of the deep basin, draws over Table Rock 
 and drenches the trees. My observations respecting the 
 forms of the water in descending, apply, of course, only to 
 the outer parts. In the centre those heavy masses are pre- 
 cipitated, which reach the water below entire and create the 
 rumbling thunder which I mentioned. Behind the Central 
 Fall, on Mr. Ingraham's path, I observed the same changes 
 of forms, which, in fact, are very easily accounted for. 
 
 Here, at the foot of the south-eastern end of the Crescent, 
 I heard again, and very clearly and distinctly, the third 
 sound peculiar to the Falls. The deep roaring tone, with 
 the thunders between, I have mentioned before; but if you 
 go very near to the water, you hear now and then a shrill 
 piercing sound very much like the horn or trumpet of one of 
 our stage-coachmen, or of the guards of the mail, as I have 
 heard them in London, when hurrying along the Strand. I 
 have not found this peculiar noise of the cataract mentioned 
 any where, yet I am sure that I do not deceive myself; for 
 I have repeatedly noticed them, and found my observation 
 confirmed by several other persons whose attention I had 
 directed to the subject. It is necessary to listen with some 
 attention, otherwise the sound is swallowed up by the over- 
 powering general noise. It seems to me not difficult to ex- 
 plain it: among the endless forms which the water must 
 adopt in this constant and violent motion, it can be easily 
 
( 353 ) 
 
 imagined, that sometimes a mass of water happens to include 
 a quantity of compressed air, which, if opportunity offers, 
 escapes through a small opening, producing this disagree- 
 able shriek, well comparable to the trumpets of evil spirits 
 sounding from the abyss of torment. 
 
 A staircase leads from the brink of the eastern bank, 
 and a steep path from the top of the western bank to the 
 ferry-houses below. I have suggested that, to save the 
 trouble of descending and ascending, an apparatus should 
 be constructed for hoisting visiters up and down in a large 
 comfortable basket on iron chains. It is done in mines, 
 why should it not be practicable here? and a fine view would 
 be afforded by this means during the whole time of descent. 
 Architects, when engaged in building high steeples, often 
 resort to this means, when otherwise the superintending of 
 the work might easily throw them into a consumption. I 
 have seen the scene-painter of the Theatre Royal in Berlin 
 flitting up and down in a seat of this kind. 
 
 Another staircase, leading from the brink of Goat Island 
 to the water below, I have mentioned already. It has its 
 name from Mr. Nicholas Biddle, of Philadelphia, at whose 
 expense it was erected; and though the expenses cannot 
 have been small, it is an excellent investment, bringing in- 
 terest such as few capitals do. No traveller can leave this 
 sacred spot of nature without feeling grateful to Mr. Biddle, 
 since, in fact, some of the best views and spots of observa- 
 tion have thus been rendered accessible to the traveller. The 
 path behind the Central Fall, the walk to the foot of the , 
 south-eastern end of the Crescent, the best views of the Ca- 
 taract from below, the true views of a waterfall, have thus 
 been presented to us, because it is only by way of this stair- 
 case that we can reach the respective point, except by means 
 of boats, which are troublesome and expensive. 
 
 Some of the best views of the Cataract are — from above, 
 from Table Rock and Terrapin bridge, — at a distance, from 
 the point where the path winds down from the brink of the 
 Canada bank; — from below, from the ferry, where the stair- 
 
 45 
 
( 354 ) 
 
 case on the United States side reaches the rocks below, from 
 the window of the Biddle Staircase, and at its foot. Quite 
 at a distance, a noble prospect presents itself on a certain 
 spot, about two miles from the Falls on the road to Lewis- 
 ton. A vista through the forest gives you a view of the 
 Cataract, and as all greatness, physical or moral, requires 
 distance for its full impression, so also does the Cataract ap- 
 pear to you on this spot in still more solemn grandeur. 
 
 I went with a party to the whirlpool, where the waters 
 abruptly turn from a north-westerly course, to a north- 
 easterly, and so swift is the current that the water, sweep- 
 ing round the corner of the ravine, actually does not find 
 time to put itself on a level, so that you have before you 
 the peculiar phenomenon of a river having in its middle 
 a high water ridge, which I must consider from seven to 
 eight feet high at least; for it can be seen very distinctly 
 from the crest of the bank — here so high that large timbers 
 in the river look like little sticks, and the waves of the 
 rapids, which are very high, appear quite small. 
 
 There are yet many interesting subjects connected with 
 Niagara — the Rapids, the Whirlpool, many vistas and phe- 
 nomena which ought to be detailed, had I promised a picture 
 or even a complete sketch. Take the whole I have given you 
 as a hasty croquis, of which I have filled up certain parts 
 only. The work of Mr. Ingraham will be so complete, that 
 I should unnecessarily tax your time, were I to describe 
 more. But however correct his work may be, certain it is 
 that no description can give a satisfactory idea of many 
 traits of the great Cataract. Sound, movement, color, form 
 cannot be conveyed upon paper, so as to burst upon you like 
 Niagara itself. 
 
 There have been fought some battles, even near Niagara, 
 but they are not of sufficient importance to add an historical 
 interest to the scene. It is essentially a phenomenon of 
 nature, and if you view it as such in connexion with the 
 whole chain of lakes and waters of the west, it will ' stand 
 before you as one of the noblest works of nature which man 
 can behold. 
 
( 355 ) 
 
 From the moment when you first see Niagara, to the hour 
 when you leave it, one of the great characteristics with 
 which it strikes the soul of man, is that like the sea or the 
 Alps, it does and will exist without him. He cannot change 
 it; it spurns his skill and power, nor does it heed thunder or 
 season or time. The changes it undergoes are worked upon 
 itself by its own unconquerable force. 
 
 Niagara besides uniting the characteristic of grave so- 
 lemnity with that of continued and rapid motion, stands be- 
 fore you like a giant thing, alone but perfect in its con- 
 struction. The sea afiects us by its boundlessness, and its 
 thousand historical and geographical associations; by its 
 horror and destruction at some times, and its graceful move- 
 ments and refreshing coolness at others, and by the depth 
 of its womb filled with the elements of life; Niagara affects 
 us by its power, its horror, its grace, and its gigantic beauty 
 all united. 
 
 Where there is so much motion, so vast a subject present- 
 ing itself under such a variety of aspects, you cannot ex- 
 haust the interest of the subject, and of the new views and 
 phenomena which are continually arising to your notice, and 
 the longer you tarry the dearer Niagara becomes to you. 
 
 As Niagara is essentially a beauty of nature, and on a 
 narrow spot in the new world, it is in my mind the counter 
 picture to the view which I enjoyed from the tower of 
 Acrocorinth, which, indeed, is one of the finest on earth for 
 natural scenery; yet it is history which mainly bursts upon 
 you there, as nature at Niagara. I have been, I think, the 
 first traveller since Sir George Wheler, who has entered the 
 castle of the Acrocorinth and given a public account of it* 
 Wheler visited the castle at about 1680, and I was there in 
 February of 1821. Have you read the description I gave 
 in my journal on Greece? Perhaps not; here it is: 
 
 • The jealousy of the Turks allowed no foreig'ner to visit the Acrocorinth 
 as long as they had the sway over Greece. The author visited that countr}' 
 soon after the expulsion of the Turks: Sir Wheler travelled in the Morca 
 when it was in the power of Venice, — Editoh. 
 
( 356 ) 
 
 q 
 
 "Thie view from this tower richly rewarded me for my 
 trouble. I have spoken several times in this small volume 
 of beautiful prospects, but why should I not do it here again, 
 when the country is so rich in them! — It is true, what Stra- 
 bo says, that in the north you have a view of the high and 
 white Helicon and Parnassus, with their long and beautiful- 
 ly delineated chains, upon which rests the softening azure 
 haze or ether of a southern climate. In the west extends the 
 Bay of Corinth as far as Crissa, along it the ridge of Cithae- 
 ron, and the Alcyonian Sea with the Olmiaean Promontory. 
 In the east the Saronic Gulf washes the islands of Salamis 
 and ^gina, toward the north-east, the shores of Attica. 
 There were before us Pentelicus, Hymettus, and Laurion, 
 even down to the Cape of Sunium. The day was serene; 
 we could discern the Acropolis. In the south I looked far 
 into the territory of the Argives, in the west I saw Achaia 
 and Sicyonia. In one view around me I beheld the spots 
 where the best art, science and valor of favored Greece had 
 ^welt and flourished. 
 
 " Beautiful as the extraordinary view was from this 
 ■chosen spot, justly sacred to Helius, the god of the sun — of 
 light and beauty, it was not less instructive for a clear geo- 
 graphical perception. The many peaks and mountains, with 
 distinguishing forms, afford you convenient points for so vast 
 a panorama, and after a short time you are enabled to im- 
 press upon your mind a very distinct image. What a field we 
 viewed! Sicyonia, Achaia, Locrls, Phocis, Boeotia, Megara, 
 Attica, Salamis, ^gina, Argolis and Corinth, and beneath us 
 the Isthmus with Lechaeum and Cenchrese, and the spot 
 where the ivy and pine rewarded the Isthmian victor." — 
 History was concentrated here as art is in the Tribuna in 
 Florence. Greece lay around me like one great epic, while 
 Niagara is like a powerful ode, a rhapsody in which nature 
 herself has seized the mighty harp and plays a rapturous tune. 
 

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