ENGLISH ITE'MS:
OR)
MICROSCOPIC VIEWS
OF
ENGLAND AND ENGLISHMEN.
BY
MATT. F. WARD,
AUTHOR OF "LETTERS FROM THREE CONTINENTS."
NEW-YORK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
200 BROADWAY.
M.DOCC.LIIL




ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by
D. APPLETON & CO.,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of
New-York.




TO
J. J. HUGHES, ESQ.,
BiT VBok is vlirntb,
AS
A SLIGHT TESTIMONIAL OF SINCERE FRIENDSHIP
AND
HIGH RESPECT.
MATT. F. WARD.








CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND               9
CHAPTER II.
SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.                     22
CHAPTER III.
TIIE CUSTOM-HOUS SE                               68
CHAPTER IV.
RURAL SCENERY                                      71
CHAPTER V.
ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.83
CHAPTER VI.
ENGLISH MANNERS                                   209
CHAPTER VII.
ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER.                    2 98
CHAPTER VIII.
ENGLISH GENTILITY.245




8                     CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER IX.
ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND                    266
CHAPTER X.
PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH           276
CHAPTER XI.
PRESENT STATE OF TIIE ESTABLISHED CHURCH OF ENGLAND   291
CHAPTER XII.
HERALDRY.                                         337




ENGLISII ITEMS.
CHAPTER I.
OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND.
ENGLISHMEN, and their admirers, have so carefully
stowed away English supremacy in a nice glass box,
guarded at every angle by portentous "hands off;" as successfully to protect it from the too close scrutiny of the
masses. Indeed, whilst it continues the custom of the Miss
Nancies, and old women of the fashionable and literary
worlds of America extravagantly to extol every thing English, it will be deemed reprehensible temerity in any man, to
refuse to acknowledge the received superstition. The American, daring enough to assail England's claims to superiority,
will be pronounced guilty of outrage by those of his countrymen, too indolent or too dastardly to think for themselves.
His sacrilege will be thought no greater by these Anglicized Republicans, than that of the conqueror Antiochus, in
the opinion of the Jews, when he boldly entered their temple
-ordered a great sow to be sacrificed on the altar for burntofferings-and polluted the Holy of Holies, by having the
blood of the unclean animal scattered about the sacred
edifice.
Before I had ever travelled beyond the confines of the




10                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
United States, I had grown weary of the thraldom to English dictation of public opinion in America.  I entertained
no great love for Englishmen, and all that I saw during my
first visit to Europe, and what I have seen since, has not
served to increase my affection for them. Yet I must confess that I experienced, a year or two ago, certain aguish
sensations at my own rashness, in expressing a somewhat
unfavorable opinion of Englishmen and their manners. It
might have been, as a distinguished Review sagely remarked,
an unbearable degree of impudence in an unknown individual from Arkansas, to pretend to pronounce judgment on
the refinements of English society. But being accustomed
to attack rampant bears at home, I suppose the innocent
cavortings of the British Lion seemed much less terrible to
me, than to some of my more civilized countrymen, who had
never seen angry beasts out of cages. Although the roar
of this pampered Lion of England has long since ceased to
affect us as a nation, yet no one can doubt. that his complaining growls make those individuals quake amongst us, who
pretend to a refined excess either of fashion or gentility.
I am sorry to observe that it is becoming more and more
the fashion, especially among " travelled " Americans, to pet
the British beast. In defiance of his surly ways, they are
eternally trying by flattery to coax him into good humor,
as the boys throw apples and gingerbread to his prototype
of the menagerie. He never fails to repay their officious
kindness with snarling disapprobation, and always attacks the
hand that pats him. But instead of treating him like other
refractory brutes, they pusillanimously strive to soothe him
by a forbearance he cannot appreciate.  They never laugh
so loudly, as when suffering from his bite, and good-naturedly designate his ruthless clawings the facetious indications
of a playful disposition.
What beast-tamer, in his senses, ever dreamed of subdu



OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND.    11
ing an angry lion by soothing him? Beasts are ruled through
fear, not kindness. They submissively lick the hand that
wields the lash, not the one that feeds them.  So long as we
attempt to pacify the British Lion by patting him, we shall
be clawed and bitten. He must be treated according to his
nature. Seize him fearlessly by the throat, and once strangle
him into involuntary silence, and the British Lion will hereafter be as fawning as he has hitherto been spiteful.
It is a melancholy fact, which I am most reluctant to acknowledge even to myself, that there is a growing inclination
towards fiunkeyism, in what are termed the higher classes of
society in America. We too frequently find the American
recently returned from Europe, whose powers of observation should be quickened by foreign associations, and whose
mind should be so enlarged by studying the institutions of
other countries, as to enable him better to understand the
inestimable blessings of our own, exprcssing a captious dissatisfaction with his own country.  Sneering at Americafinding fault with her people —ridiculing her manners-and
objecting to her customs;  he professes to find nothing good
enough for him, with the eminently fiunkey hope, that those
of his countrymen who haye remained at home, will be inspired with awful respect for his improved taste, and travelled cultivation. If our travelled countrymen can derive
no higher evidence of improvement from a European tour,
than a servile imitation of every thing they have seen in
England, even to fault-finding with America, I sincerely
hope they may for ever remain in the republican simplicity
which they received from our Fathers. If no more valuable
lesson is to be learned by Americans abroad, than that patriotism is something to be ashamed of, Democrat as I am,
I would favor a general embargo law, to keep them at home.
And when in spite of every precaution the citizens of the
United States have become so cosmopolitan. by travel, as to




12                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
deem it necessary to rail at their own country, as a proof of
freedom from "provincial prejudices," I hope there may be
some newly discovered California to which I may peacefully
emigrate.
I mentioned above the earlier symptoms a fearfully
spreading disease, which can only be cured I fear by cauterizing. In the more advanced stages of this epidemic,
brought among us from foreign parts, we find its victims affecting the society of transient Englishmen, who, coming to
America arrayed in the cast-off airs of their superiors at
home, always laugh at their too eager hosts, and make butts
of their over-zealous admirers. These cockneys are right in
their treatment of such despicable sycophants. Well aware
that they are prompted by none of the higher impulses of
hospitality, but actuated by the mean ambition of borrowing
importance from their servility to them, these Englishmen
have my applause, at least, for making them feel their
degradation. Alas! that an American freeman should submit to be kicked by an upstart Briton, with the silly hope
that there were people around him, silly enough to envy him
the supposed honor of his aristocratic associations.  The
operation of kicking certainly does imply very intimate relations of position, at least, and the American flunkeys
may be partially right in their expectations, for there are a
few among us, who will persist in estimating an Englishman's real rank by his pretensions, and who will not give up
the superstition, that every thing English must necessarily
be superior. These transient English do but obey their instincts in kicking all Americans who will allow them. The
thing becomes a duty, no less than a recreation, when they
happen to encounter those, who consider such a proceeding
on their part, not only a great condescension, but an honor to
themselves, and will apologize to the kicker, accordingly, for
giving him the trouble to confer it. In such instances I al



OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND.    13
ways feel tempted to assist John Bull, though to do him
justice, the infliction is generally made, I believe, with a very
good will. It must be a great luxury for the poor Britishers, to meet with an opportunity of treating other people as
they have always been accustomed to being treated themselves. Having all their lives submitted to being kicked at
home, they are eminently qualified to appreciate the privilege of kicking, and enjoy it accordingly. What flunkey
would not? An Englishman is somewhat excusable after
all for his snobbish propensities. Born in the land of flunkeydom, breathing the atmosphere, and reared amidst the
prejudices of flunkeys, it would be unnatural, indeed, if he
did not himself become a veritable flunkey. But what can
be said of Americans, who, without any such apology, knowingly and wilfully become the flunkeys of flunkeys, and
toadyize toadies? I am not a harsh man by nature, but I
would have such renegades stretched upon the rack of public opinion. Traitors to themselves, their country, and her institutions-I would take keen delight in seeing them so tortured, that their sufferings might prove a warning to all, sufficiently destitute of manhood, to follow their example.
I mean not to intimate in the remotest manner, that
every citizen of England who visits our country, belongs to
the class I have alluded to, nor do I wish to be understood as insinuating, that every American who extends to an
Englishman the ordinary civilities of society, must necessarily be a flunkey. I have myself known several English
gentlemen, and I have no doubt there are many coming to
America, whose social qualities would make them the welcome guests of every family circle. But I regard it as an
excess of absurdity, unworthy of us, warmly to seize every
straggler by the hand, simply because he happens to be an
Englishman. While our present social relations with Englishmefi at home, continue to exist, the mere fact of a man's




14                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
being from England, so far from becoming a passport into
the bosoms of our family circles, should be considered just
cause for scrutinizing inquiries, as to his position and real
character. For though we occasionally meet with a gentleman from that country, yet past experience should have long
since convinced us that we cannot be too skeptical as to
a Britisher's claims to our hospitality, till we have some indistinct idea as to what he is. A London cit, accustomed
all his days to the degrading consciousness of inferiority, is
so intoxicated by the unexpected attentions with which he is
generally received in this country, that he ought scarcely to
be considered responsible for the sneers, with which, in his
drunken elevation, he always repays the kindness our citizens have extended to him. I am a great believer in reciprocity, and I would have it made as difficult for an Englishman to gain access to the better houses of America, as they
have made it for an American to enter the higher classes of
society in Great Britain. So prevalent is the opinion that
Americans are improper inmates of the fashionable houses
of England, that I once heard a boastful English Banker
giving as an evidence of his superior influence, his having
actually been able to introduce a wealthy American, who
had for nearly twenty years been a resident of London, into
one of their clubs. If an American will consent temporarily
to make a penny-postman of himself, and carry a small mailbag of introductory letters, he may reasonably hope to enjoy the honor of receiving a diminutive bit of glazed pasteboard, with some aristocratic inscription; or if his recommendations are unusually strong, he may be inflicted with
the oppressive distinction of a dinner. But as he enjoys no
titular rank, he must submit to the mortification of going in
at the tail end of all the guests, and being seated at the
foot of the table-when positions at table are regarded as
mlltters of import.  Who but an Englishman would invite a




OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WVITH ENGLAND.      15
man to his house to insult him?  But such is the custom in
England.  If the rights of hospitality are not considered
superior to mere conventional usages of the country, strangers should not be compelled to suffer on account of the absurd ignorance of their hosts. If a man is worthy of an
invitation to another's house, he certainly has a right to expect
the treatment due to a gentleman.
There are some of our citizens, who seem to be troubled
with a mawkishly tender regard for the sensibilities of the
" dear old Mother Country." The truth must not even be
told, for fear of giving offence to the burly inhabitants of the
sweet land of our ancestors. What have we ever received
from that country but injustice? She oppressed us as colonies-she twice attempted to crush us by war-and yet,
according to these puling lovers of " the Old Country," we
must be humbly grateful, now, because she magnanimously
permits us to advance in power and prosperity, when she
cduld not possibly restrain us. When has she ever omitted
an opportunity of injuring us, when she could do so with
impunity? She has always interfered with our commercial
relations, when she dared. She has invariably attempted
to shackle our progress, whilst professing to protect the
rights of weaker nations. She has assailed us through her
press; slandered us in her books; struggled to excite the
animosity of other countries against us-and yet we must
raise no murmur of retort, because, forsooth, she happens to
be 1 the Old Country." What, I beg to be informed, is this
" Old Country " to us that we should truckle to her? Out
upon those who preach this miserably servile doctrine.
My contempt is scarcely surpassed by what the English
must feel for them.
There are many more of us, who, at heart love America,
as she deserves to be loved, but have not the moral courage
to speak out like men: the English might laugh at our




16                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
extravagant admiration of our own country.  Let them
first prove that she does not deserve our most enthusiastic
opinions, and I too will become as silent as the most Anglicized. Britain would be delighted to shame us out of our
patriotism, for it might, some day, give dangerous animation to our strength. No eulogy of England could be too
extravagant, but'tis absurd to praise America.  It seems
to me a hard case, indeed, that Americans are to be restrained from a free expression of what they think of
America, by the apprehension of English disapprobation.
Who appointed her censor of our opinions? What do we
owe her that we should so meekly bow to her mandates?
Not even the doubtful boon of our birth. The royal miser
Henry VII. refused to assist Columbus in his voyage of
discovery, and after it was accomplished without him, what
English monarch ever essayed to people the new-found
world? To the enterprise of Raleigh, aided by English
tyranny towards our forefathers, we are indebted for our
appearance among nations. Uncared for, and despised, we
remained, until ourgrowth made us important to the support of our tender parent, whose earliest solicitude for the
long-neglected foundling, was manifested by oppression.
She first attempted to rob us by means of venal laws. She
then tried to crush us in an unequal contest-and finally
yielded to force, the rights she had meanly refused to supplication. Does such a course deserve gratitude, or contempt? We should treat her now, as we treated her then:
command her respect by our boldness, not beg her toleration
by obsequious complaisance.  She must feel our power
before she will acknowledge it. So long as we attempt to
conciliate her by meek submission to her judgment, she will
continue to despise us.  Our gentle forbearance will be
considered weakness-and our friendly advances she will
mistake for servility. The Bible,'tis true, commands us




OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND.       17
to " forgive our enemies," but the English, influenced by the
old adage of judging others by themselves, will attribute
our complying with this Christian precept, to a want of
spirit to resent her insults.  The Quaker doctrine of" turning the other cheek" she cannot understand. Her people
cannot appreciate the retiring nature of true gentility, either
in nations or individuals.   They cannot conceive of a
gentleman's being modest in his demeanor, unless from the
consciousness of inferiority. Nor can they realize how a
nation could fail to be blustering, except from cowardice.
The English are eager to impress upon us the fact that
undivided devotion to our country is " provincial."  They
kindly warn us of the danger of "':narrow-minded prejudices," and descant; with tumid eloquence, upon the liberality of enlarged understandings, and cultivated minds.
They condescendingly inform us that a man, who could continue to think " there- is no place like home," would be very
justly suspected of never having wandered beyond the limits
of his native country. If he desires to be appreciated, as
a traveller, and man of the world, he must give up such oldfashioned notions. He must take England as his model,
and sneer at the deficiencies of America, or else he will
incur the danger of being considered an individual of limited
understanding, and "narrow-minded prejudices."  Should
he feel any curiosity as to what constitutes this particular
genus of "prejudices," which is so industriously harped
upon by Englishmen, he will discover that their ideas of
" narrow-minded prejudices " consist in doing justice to the
two countries.  To be "provincial"  is to  adhere to
America-to display a cultivated taste, admire England.
The English may be, in some measure, excusable for
their own preposterous vanity, and glaring illiberality to
other people, from the fact of their having so rarely received
the lesson, of seeing themselves as others see them.  Most




18                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
Americans who have written upon England, have been
either flattered or bullied into drawing the most glowing
pictures of English comfort-of English freedom-English
society-and English every thing.   One very naturally
supposes them discoursing of a model nation, with model
government, model manners, and model dispositions, and
feels but little curiosity to test the depth of the gloss with
which they have so tastefully varnished every thing in the
country. It is not surprising, however, that England should
wield a vast influence over men, ambitious of literary fame.
When it is remembered how submissively the American
public have been wont to abide by the decision of English
critics, it ought no longer to appear strange, that aspiring
authors should attempt to curry favor of those, in whose
hands has been placed the power of awarding the honors of
literary distinction. This is all wrong. America, to enjoy
that independence, of which she may be so justly proud,
should have her own critics, as well as her own manufacturers of cotton and iron.
There have been statesmen in our country strenuously
to advocate the protection of home industry. Oppressive
tariffs have been supported, in order to assist our domestic
manufactures to compete with the foreign. But is it not
strange, that it has never occurred to the sages of our
Republic, that mills and foundries do not embrace the
entire field of American industry? Is it not extraordinary
that it has never occurred to them, that cotton and iron are
not the only commodities which American genius might
work up to advantage if properly fostered? There is a raw
material, ordinarily known as brains, that we have already
employed with success, notwithstanding the difficulties
against which we have contended.  We have already
accomplished much, and may do more, with proper encouragement. Bryant, Halleck, Longfellow and Willis, Sparks,




OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAN-D.       19
Prescott and Bancroft, Cooper, Irving and Mitchel, are
master workmen, whom we may proudly compare with the
world's best living artisans. But this industrial establishment, like all our others, is still young, and requires fostering.
I here declare myself a protectionist-I am an advocate
of a high tariff too in favor of mnind. American intellect
as well as American labor deserves to be protected. Discovering our own merits, let us support them. Let us cultivate a national taste, as we have established a national character. We have too long ago asserted our independence of
English rulers, to continue dependent of English critics.
We have strong native judgment; let us exercise it as fearlessly with regard to literature, as to every thing else. I
mean not to favor a cavilling spirit, that would habitually
condemn what England praised, and praise what England
condemned. I merely insist upon the exercise of that discriminating power, which we possess in a sufficiently eminent
degree, to make us certain that the expression of our national opinion will never call a blush into the cheek of one
of our citizens abroad. Let us not wait;" with bated breath "
for what England shall say of a work of art, before we answer with a servile echo from this side the Atlantic. We
may be sometimes wrong, most people are, but we can at
least be independent.
The attempt is vain to shut ouf eyes to the fact, that
England has hitherto been the model, on which we have
dressed ourselves. No native merit, however distinguished,
could pass current till stamped by English approbation.
An author must be favorably noticed by English critics,
before he can hope to be extensively read at home. An
actor must cross the seas in search of a reputation, and most
of our wiseacres tremble to express an opinion, which is not
a close-cut pattern, of what has been said on the other side
of the Atlantic.  From  England we borrowed our notions




20                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
of etiquette-and from the same notable birthplace of absurdities, we have imported our ideas of gentility. We ran
after Englishmen, and affected their opinions of rank. Indeed, England has been our oracle, whose responses were
reverenced, like Delphi's of yore; and few have there been,
who, like Demosthenes, when he declared that the priestess
" Philipized," have dared to express a doubt of their infallibility. But a revolution is commenced-this sort of thing
is rapidly passing away; indeed in many portions of our
country it has wholly disappeared. There are fortunately
many strong intellects among us, who think and speak for
themselves of literature, and the arts, as boldly as of politics.
I cannot but hope that a reform is at hand in the fashionable world; and I predict that Americans in all parts of the
country will soon use silver forks, for some more sensible
reason than that Englishmen have pronounced it vulgar to
eat with a knife.
There are those among us, who regard the attacks of the
English with good-natured contempt, who feel amused, not
incensed by their jealousy, and consider it unbecoming Americans to notice their slanders.  They very properly regard
personalities as low bred, and believe it as ungentlemanly in
us to retort, as it is in the English to assail. For the
opinions of such persons, I entertain so high a respect, that
I most willingly make to them an explanation of my course,
in the following pages. I agree with them entirely, that personal attacks are vulgar, and that the indulgence in them,
by our assailants, does not justify us in their use.  But in
any warfare, we must adapt our weapons to the enemy with
whom we are engaged, and hard blows are the only logic the
English understand.  To affect their understandings, we
must punch their heads. We hiave acted on the defensive
principle long enough, and if we are not ambitious of always
continuing the butts for newspaper jokes, and tourists' slan



OUR INDIVIDUAL RELATIONS WITH ENGLAND.       21
ders, we must ourselves make the attack.  To procure
peace, we must " carry the war into Africa."  If we do not
ourselves maintain our dignity, the English will scarcely do
so for us. Towards them, we must be as stiff and unbending as themselves. We must demand, not beg their attention. We kno% what is due us; we must insist upon receiving it.  Too sdrf the matter up, it is time we should
" set up" for ourselves; we must fulfil our destiny, without
stopping to inquire what people in England will say. We
have too long been in the leading strings of Great Britain;
for even if we were still an infant among the nations of the
earth, we should never walk alone, if we did not try. But
we are no longer a child. Young as we are we have the
strength, and let us show the independence of a man.,We
have a nationality of our own-it is our duty to support it.
To borrow the words of the immortal Washington,-" I
want an Amnerican character, that the powers of Europe
may be convinced we act for ourselves, and not for others."




22                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
CHAPTER  II.
SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.
SOME erudite Englishman, Mr. Leigh Hunt, perhaps,
has made the facetious discovery that one vast counter
lines the American seaboard, from Maine to Florida. Every
American should glory in the commercial enterprise of our
country. In defence of our commercial rights we obtained
our freedom. Commerce gave us the power to achieve our
independence, and by our commerce we have so gloriously
maintained it. But in reply to the palpable sneer of the
funny gentleman, I will incur the danger of startling my
readers by the novelty of an expression, for the sake of its
force: "people who live in glass houses ought not to throw
stones." Even supposing that Americans are somewhat
more addicted to money-making, than is altogether consistent with a philosophic contempt for gold, yet the English
would do well to "cast out the beam out of" their own eye,
before seeking for "the mote" in ours. We do exert ourselves sturdily in the acquisition of wealth,'tis true, but'tis
a secondary consideration, it is sought for only as a means of
power, and enjoyment. But with an Englishman, money is
preeminent; he loves it for its own substantial sake. And
if I can show that those ostentatiously paraded qualities of
which Englishmen are most proud, are subservient to their
thirst for lucre, it seems to me that the most skeptical should
be convinced that money is adorable in their eyes, for its
own shining charms.




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.          23
The English are a cold, selfish nation, with few emotions,
and a limited number of sentiments. Patriotism, with
them, never assumes that rarefied enthusiasm, experienced by
other nations. But still an Englishman loves England; he
is proud of England, not that he discovers about her any extraordinary charms, but because she can claim the honor of
having given him birth. Loyalty and religion are affected
by an Englishman, like a high shirt-collar, and sleek hat, as
the indispensable attributes of a gentleman. Indeed, regarding gentility as impossible without them, he cultivates
these desirable qualities with the coaxing assiduity, with
which enthusiastic florists, in bleak climes, force tropical
plants in hot houses. In accordance with the routine of
proprieties, which he has prescribed for himself, the king
and the church are the pet objects of his veneration. But
when kings and churches cease to be regarded, what can be
deemed sacred in England? When both loyalty and religion are traded off, for a paltry consideration, who can doubt
the grovelling propensities of the English?  The Government of Great Britain demands sixpence of every visitor
to Westminster Abbey.
The most careless worldling must feel impressed on entering a venerable Cathedral. There is something awful,
even to the bravest, about death. There is something sacred, even to the most brutal, in the tomb. YeJ 4he English, professing to be distinguished for their loyalty, and pretending piously to venerate every thing connected with the
church, have degraded this hoary pile, among whose crumbling arches a half-dozen centuries are perched, and in whose
silent aisles repose the most illustrious heroes of English
history, into a show-room, to pocket such pitiful earnings, as
the owner of an organ and monkey might scorn to grind
for. They take advantage of the desire, shared alike by
strangers and Englishmen, to visit the tombs of Britain's




24                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
Kings, to charge them sixpence for their admittance. How
deep rooted must be the love of gain, when they will invade
the sacred precincts of the grave, to levy this black mail on
the curiosity of strangers! How lost to all sense of shame
to speculate on the loyalty of the nation! How omnipotent
must be the reign of gold in the hearts of the nobles, composing the government, when they would coin pennies from
the dust of their dead ancestors! What opinion must we
entertain of the dignity and liberality of a government
that annually devotes millions to the support of its pension
list, and will yet drag forth the shades of her heroes to
make a spectacle for the gaping multitude. What an exalted estimate they must place upon the services of these
dead monarchs, when they exhibit them to spectators at sixpence a head, but demand a shilling for a sight of the live
monkeys at the Zoological Gardens.  This sordid policy
which, in order to put a few pounds into the treasury, compels these ancient worthies, who have all played their parts
in history, to play the catchpenny characters before a mob,
makes even a stranger, who never loved the English, blush
for their baseness. Even I would have them spare themselves this last mark of ignominy.
Their apology is worthy of the nation-it only costs sixzpence! Price, not principle, is ever uppermost in their
minds. It is the amount a man pays, and not the outrage to
his feelings, that they think it possible might distress him.
But in this instance, the minuteness of the charge is happily
apportioned to the motive which prompted it. What could
be more contemptible than either?
These sceptred monarchs, who once swayed the wills of
millions-formerly the proud possessors of manors and
forests, are not now permitted to occupy in peace their poor
body's length. The people of Great Britain have grown too
eager to reap its profits, and the soil has recently become




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.          25
too valuable to the living, to be consecrated as the restingplace of the dead. These buried kings, in ceasing to be
feared, are no longer respected; England has served them,
it is now their turn to serve England. It is the duty of a
good sovereign to be useful to his people.  Ile must not be
a burden to the state, and must therefore issue forth, to
dance a melancholy jig for the entertainment of the populace,
each one of whom has paid his sixpence to witness the exhibition. A happy commentary truly upon the ancient glory,
and modern degeneracy of England; —a heroic monarch
reduced to the level of a street exhibitor of Punch and
Judy! Who can doubt that the English love money when
their loyalty and religion are bartered for pence, and their
kings and churches transformed into the base means of disreputable gain?
There is something so venerable about the Gothic arches
of Westminster Abbey,-something so solemn in the silent
array of its discolored tombs, that it continues to be imposing even in the dirty hands of its showmen. Here
reposes all that is greatest and best of England's proud
past. Here the most eminent poets and sculptors of the
world, have rendered themselves immortal, in paying the
last tribute to expired genius. Undying renown not only
hangs round the names recorded, but rests on the hands
that recorded them.  An atmosphere of holiest impulses
breathes over these illustrious monuments, and I would have
no one drink it in who was not inspired by the genius of the
place. A man, who could stand in the presence of these
honored dead, without experiencing the most elevated emotions, I would banish as an intruder from the sacred fane.
I would have a visit here prompted by the feelings, with
which devout palmers make pilgrimages to the holy places
of the East. I would fain protect this solemn niche of historical associations from the approach of idle curiosity. But
2




26                  ENGLISHI ITEMS.
the English seem anxious to destroy its consecrated character. They lower the exalted reputation of the place in
offering it to the public as an ordinary spectacle; they
assail its sanctity, when they make it a cheap exhibition.
The illiterate have always possessed a strong natural propensity for shows, which becomes especially animated, when
it can be indulged at a trifling expense. There is something
strangely fascinating in the dignity of spending one's own
money, and very comfortable in the idea of getting the
worth of it. And it is only necessary to announce a cheap
exhibition, of no matter what, to insure crowds of ignorant
spectators flocking to see it. In the first place, the name of
the thing is attraction, for it is arranged under the head of
"Amusements;" then they have the luxury of spending
money, without the inconvenience attending a larger outlay,
and besides people have a passion for seeing and doing what
they have to pay for, whatever is " free" possessing no attractions.  Who can doubt that this sixpennycharge proves
a bait to swarms of such ignoramuses, who would, otherwise, never dream of entering the Abbey? And what right
have the English government to suppose that they would feel
greater veneration here, than at any other " show," when
they had paid sixpence to get in? They come to see, not to
reflect. They tramp through the resounding aisles in search
of something they do not find.  Lost amidst a labyrinth of
names they never heard of, and stumbling among works of
art they do not understand,'tis not surprising that they
should indulge their grumbling dissatisfaction. The diminutiveness of the entrance fee becomes a source of complaint,
and these Englishmen, who estimate every thing by what
they pay for it, wonder at their own folly in not foreseeing
the character of the exhibition, from the cheapness of the
price of admittance. They have paid their sixpence, however, and feel at liberty to criticise the perfor, nance. and it




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           27
is from the jeering comments, and senseless gibes of a disappointed rabble like this, that I would fain protect the hallowed recesses of Westminster.
Those who attempt to defend this unworthy practice,
declare that the inconsiderable charge, which nobody can
feel, is made merely to defray the expenses of the necessary
guardians of the church against the mutilations of visitors.
But would it not be more becoming the position of a government, which generously gives the Queen $300;000 as pin
money, and can afford to reward her majesty's ex-master of
the dance with a pension of five hundred dollars a year-to
devote a few hundred to the preservation of a relic, so
venerated as Westminster Abbey? Or if the public finances
would not permit so inconsiderable an outlay, would it not
be more dignified to curtail the perquisites of thje dashing
noble who now receives as master of the queen's stag hounds,
$10,000 a year for occasionally amusing himself by going
hunting with a good pack of dogs, rather than subject the
poor old abbey to its present ignominy? Or, if this will
not do. and the queen's household must remain intact in
spite of the abbey, why not leave it to protect itself? It
would be safer in its solitary majesty guarded only by the
-glorious recollections of the past than it could be when
watched by this hired train of insolent menials. Its very
helplessness would become unto it a wall of strength; its
silent appeal for mercy would protect it from the rudest
hands; and its monuments, that time and history have
united to render illustrious, would be safe, when a regiment
of soldiers might fail to preserve them.  Englishmen, do
this;-do what you will, but spare-oh spare the guiltless
shades of your buried ancestors the shame of such an
exposure!
But if, in defiance of the sanctity of the place, and the
veneration you profess to feel for your forefathers, you




2'8                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
will continue to make a show-house of your ancient cathedral, why in the name of all that is decent, do you not make
the price of admission worthy of the celebrity of the
object? or at least charge enough, to insure the proper conduct of the showrmen?
The government having closed the lofty public entrance,
either on the economical principle that prompts a man to
lock up his parlor, except on Sunday, or because they are
ashamed of the business they are engaged in, the visitor to
Westminster is compelled to sneak round the back way,
through an alley, which is not especially calculated to
heighten his preconceived impressions of the Abbey. But
he enters, and forgets all else.  Standing beneath the
vaulted arches of Westminster, he so loses all sense in the
delightful mazes of reverie, as seriously to interrupt the
business of the day, did not an official in sable softly demand his cane, and thereby wake him  up to a recollection
of what he came to do. By the by, even if you happen to
be a cripple, or a dan4y, instantly discard your cane upon
arriving at the other side of the Atlantic. I care not how
lame you may happen to be; limp, crawl, do what you can,
but be not afflicted by this supernumerary nuisance. For
if you, as of course you will, visit all the galleries and
lions of England, your cane will subject you to a greater
expenditure of time, patience, and money, than most people are willing to submit to.
But the cane is deposited, and a new rush of emotions
occurs. The accumulated expectations pent up since his boyhood, become oppressive by delay, and the visitor grows
warm and fidgety in his anxiety to be admitted to the holier
places of the church. This intensely vivified excitement
never becomes dangerous, however, as by a charitably consiAderate arrangement of the English government, it is always
allowed ample time to cool. The numerous gentlemen in




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.          29
black, whom the government compels the old church to pay, for
so shabbily doing its honors, being of sedentary habits, and
a literary turn of mind, are unwilling to be interrupted to
convey a single visitor through the interior chapels. It
requires a party of seven curious individuals, each one provided with a talisman in the shape of a sixpence, to interrupt the comfortable repose of a pompous official. And as
most people have ceased to consider a show, composed of
mouldy monuments and tattered flags, a very lively one,
even when it happens to be a great bargain-a stranger
will usually incur the risk of remaining some time in the
antechamber. During the painful period of his probation,
he is subjected to the impositions of another class of hucksters. Watching with the liveliest interest the various stages
of his impatience, they rapidly advance upon him, from
every nook and corner, the instant they perceive him
arrived at the extreme point of desperation. With unblushing assurance, they poke at the bewildered gentleman
descriptions of the Abbey, plans ol the building, pictures
of the monuments, and armsfull of other plausible stuff,
which they feel very confident he has not the courage, in
his exhausted condition, to refuse.  Of course he buys
every thing, without much examining the contents, for in
his melancholy frame of mind the advertisements of the
"Times," a week old, would prove a refreshing literary
treat. At length, however, the mystical number of seven is
made up. The stately keeper slowly rises-unlocks the
door —passes us in one by one, that being the most convenient mode of collecting the sixpences-enters himself,
and again turns the key. An extraordinary metamorphosis
instantly occurs.   Our guide assumes an alacrity quite
startling, when contrasted with his former torpidity. The
man appears to be worked by steam. In his mumbled
routine of names, dates, and nonsense, the only distinguish



30                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
able feature is its haste. He rushes us through chapels,
over monuments, and along aisles, without ever pausing
for breath, till he has put us out at a gate on the other
side, with the satisfied sigh of a man who has just accomplished a very irksome task.  This is a visit to Westminster! This it is to hold communion with the illustrious
dead! This is the intellectual enjoyment which the English government have considered too delicious to be offered
to the public gratis.
In the inextricable confusion of ages, persons, and
events, in which his guide has succeeded in involving him,
the visitor feels stunned in attempting to recollect what he
has seen: few men would be rash enough to attempt remembering what they had heard.   A  vague vision of
antique tombs, Gothic chapels, and curious sanctuaries is all
he has to show for his visit to the Abbey. What time has
been allowed to the historian, to connect the chain of events,
recorded by these monuments?  Has the antiquary had an
opportunity of examining the inscriptions?  Has the philosopher been permitted to reflect upon the extraordinary
changes which these tombs are calculated to call up in his
mind?  Or what opportunity has the ordinary visitor enjoyed, of either thought or reflection, whilst composing one
of the express train, which our locomotive guide has sueceded in "putting through," in such extraordinarily fast
time?  The chief enjoyment in the Abbey arises from
association; time must be granted for its indulgence. What
educated stranger, in paying his sixpence, would not be
delighted to give twenty times the sum, to be allowed to
enjoy his visit in his own way, without the hateful domination of the fast guide? But the English government,
although too avaricious to surrender so important a branch
of the public revenue, are too timid to demand a higher
price; their only apology for making the Abbey a paying




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           31
exhibition, being, that the charge is an extremely " moderate" one.  Too mean to resist the temptation to make a
petty charge, they are destitute of the moral courage to profit
by a larger one.
I would love to muse among these gray old tombs.
I should delight to- study the quaint epitaphs in which the
partial friends of ancient times have recorded the imaginary
virtues of the dead.  I would take strange pleasure in
wandering through these lofty corridors and echoing aisles
with the spirit inhabitants of the place.  I could find exquisite enjoyment in passing with them through the history
of the past, some of whose stirring events each one of them
has helped to contribute.  The food for memory, and the
pleasures of association, in a spot like this, seem endless.
But for such enjoyment a man must be allowed to linger
long and often in these hidden recesses.  He must not be
interrupted, or hurried by impertinent guides; he must be
permitted to fly even from himself, and live only in the
past.  But such permission would be considered  most
reprehensible extravagance, in the management of the
public funds; it would be giving too much " show " for
sixpence.
I have too long lost sight of our visitor. Hurried, and
heated, he is ejected from that other gate by the grim janitor, who slams the door in his face when he attempts somewhat to enlighten himself by a civil question, and unceremoniously leaves him to get out as he best can. Thoroughly
disgusted with the whole proceeding, he experiences even
greater anxiety to make his exit than he had previously
done his entree. Proceeding forthwith to the nearest outlet, he demands with sarcastic politeness his cane, which the
bland gentleman in black hands him, with a brief, but emphatic, " Tuppence, Sir, please."  In a fume, he searches all
his pockets, which had been previously exhausted of their




32                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
small change, in the purchase of bad descriptions, and worse
pictures of the Abbey, without being able to corner a stray
sixpence, or even shilling.  He is at length forced to hand
a half-sovereign to the bland man, who, smiling his regret
that he has nothing but small change, industriously proceeds
to freight the pockets of the exasperated visitor with pennies, which would all have been unceremoniously thrown
into his face, had not the unfortunate sight-seer retained
coolness enough to be aware that he would pick them all
quietly up again, and be extremely obliged to him for his
profusion. Becoming hopelessly conscious of the utter helplessness of his position, he says not a word, but with a slight
groan, starts off, packing copper as naturally as the mules
in the mines of Peru. Such is the pitch of intellectual enjoyment, to which the enlightened policy of Great Britain
has succeeded in elevating a visit to Westminster Abbey.
The sanctity of St. Paul's is invaded by the same mercenary policy, which has degraded Westminster. A stranger, whether actuated by curiosity or piety, cannot cross its
sacred threshold, without first depositing a sixpence, which
seems the general passport to all the holy places of England.
Its being demanded at the door of every public building,
worth visiting, has conferred on the paltry price a sort of
nationality. From the frequency of its payment, we naturally associate it with the people and the government.
Really this perseverance in making this trivial charge, in
all public places, evinces a determination on the part of the
government to make the minutest of silver coins the standard of British honor. But whether they will succeed in
elevating the sixpence to the dignity of the nation, or debasing the dignity of the nation to the value of the sixpence, is
a question future historians must determine.
Montesquieu says that ownor is the safeguard of monarchies, as patriotism is that of republics.  Does it not look




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           33
ominous for the future glory of England, that she herself
values her honor so lightly?
If there be in England an object of which all classes may
be justly proud, it is St. Paul's Church. It combines all that
is stately and beautiful in architecture-every thing that is
grand and imposing in religion. Piety and patriotism have,thrown about it their powerful influences, though it had no
need of either to make it impressive.  The magnificent result
of one nation's wealth, and one man's genius, it confers honor
on Wren, and glory on England.  Though the largest Protestant church in the world, and among the brightest triumphs that architecture has achieved,-though it required
forty-seven years for its completion, it is remarkable that
the unassisted genius of Sir Christopher Wren planned and
executed this stupendous work. He laid the corner-stone,
and he superintended the erection of the crowning cross.
There is a solemn repose about the looming dome of St.
Paul's, an elegance about its graceful towers, and chaste
beauty about the supporting columns, that must awe into
silent admiration the most careless passer-by. What an effect, then, must it produce upon the stranger, who views it
for the first time. Excited, delighted, and amazed by the
splendor of its exterior, the visitor hastens to lose himself
amidst the glories within-but is rudely stopped at the door
to pay his admission-fee.  What a fell blow to his noble aspirations! What violence to all sense of propriety, and
every feeling of religion! A church, however lowly, should
be kept holy as the memory of a mother's name; it should
be guarded from pollution like the sanctity of her tomb.
To convert the humblest fane to worldly purposes is sacrilege.
Btt what shall we call the act that degrades a temple like
St. Paul's to the common custom of a tavern, where everybody may enter by paying-nobody without. To disturb
the holy silence of the house of God by the angry chaffering




34                  E:NGLISH ITEMS.
of a doorkeeper about the price of admission, is a deed without a name-a sin without a parallel.
But. once within the doors-once under the influence of
the sublime beauty of all above and around him, it is no
difficult matter for the visitor again to become wrapped in
admiration, and lost in thought. Beneath the vast expanse
of that mighty dome, his thoughts soar heavenwards, his soul
expands into that almost boundless space,-he hears nothing-he sees nothing-he knows nothing but the marble
wonders about him. Little does he dream, all this while, that
he has himself been the object of solicitous and unceasing
attention. There is a suspicious-looking individual, in shabby black, intensely eyeing him, whom instinct would have
told him to avoid, had he been aware of his presence. At
length, seeming to despair of any other mode of attracting
our wrapped visitor's attention, this gloomy looking functionary, with the gliding movements and haggard visage of a
ghost, delicately touches his elbow, and wishes to know, in
the softest possible tones, " Whether the gentleman wouldn't
like to visit the whispering gallery?" Stupefied, as if suddenly awakened from a dream, he stares for a moment in silence at the intruder, finds his voice briefly to answer "No!"
and takes refuge behind one of the many elegant groups of
pillars that adorn the church. His privacy is soon invaded
by another hungry official, who insinuatingly suggests to
him the propriety of "taking a look at the library."  Once
more he flies-this time to a remote niche, where his contemplation of the heroes' statue, enshrined within, is again
interrupted by a third officious individual, who condescendingly informs him that " the old tower clock is a great wonder'of its kind." Justly concluding the plan of persecution
to be systematic, and finding it impossible to be alone, or to
think, our visitor resolves to be resigned, and yields himslf unmnurnluring to the guides.  With a vast parade of




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.            35
ceremony, he is conducted to the whispering gallery, where,
of course, he drops a sixpence; he then sees the library for
the same amount, and he is escorted to the grand tower clock,
where another sixpence is invested.  Thus is he coaxed from
object to object, and story to story of the building, till he
finds himself at the top of the dome, out of breath and small
change, with nothing to compensate him for this double exhaustion, except dense clouds of smoke, with the black tops
of tall chimneys occasionally peering through them. He
consoles himself with the unsatisfactory reflection that his
lofty situation is, at least, an uncommonly airy one.  Suffering has made him  philosophical; and, with panting sides
and aching knees, lihe counts on his fingers the number of
bores through which he has been dragged against his will;
and for what? to enable the English government, and its
mercenary creatures, legally to empty his pockets of all the
sixpences they happened to contain. Not satisfied with interrupting him, whilst attempting to enjoy his visit to the
church in hLis own way, these active allies of petty extortion
must subject him to the excruciating infliction of " tower
bells," " whispering galleries," and " libraries," which a man
would wonder.how they could ever consider worthy of being
shown till he remembered how essential they were to the
extraction of the prescribed quantity of small coin from unsuspecting strangers.  In this instance, the sixpence must
have been a joint-stock operation,-Government must have
quickened the zeal of its minions, by allowing them  a small
additional commission upon the amount collected.  The perseverance with which they adhered to every visitor to St.
Paul's, till they had run him through their entire routine,
was too unwearying, not to have been quickened by some
pecuniary inducement of the sort.  But how could a reasonable man complain after having been so highly edified by
the extremely interesting objects he llhad just visitced and




36                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
when, too, he mnast have felt so inexpressibly indebted to the
polite attentioils of his various guides in pointing them out?
The view from  the summit of the dome of St. Paul's was
somewhat on the mysteriously indistinct order,'tis true, but
he could not hold his accommodating guides responsible for
the London fog, more especially as they had afforded him
such intense gratification in the bell tower and whispering
gallery.
Superlatively disgusted, our visitor hurries the next
day for consolation to the Tower.  The same delays, the
same annoyances, and the same petty extortions await him,
which had assailed him at the Abbey and St. Paul's. He
sadly yielded to the conviction that the English government
had, with the wand of power, thrown up a small circumvallation of sixpences around him, from which it was as vain to
attempt an escape, as from the magical circle of an enchanter. Destitute of the energy to rail at such interrupted
persecution, he surrendered himself into the hands of his
tormentors, withont a hope, or even a wish to escape.
There is perhaps no object on the other side of the Atlantic, about which clusters deeper; or more varied interest
for the stranger, than the Tower of London.  Its fortunes
have been so eventful, and of such startling contrast, that its
simple annals possess the thrilling interest of romance. The
curiosity with regard to it, is not confined to a single class
of persons. It possesses a charm for all ages and conditions.
The brilliant and bloody pageants which have been enacted
within its walls and its fatal green, are strangely fascinating
to the raw-head and bloody-bones period of youthful imagination, whilst its long and intimate connection with remarkable events during the most glorious epochs of English
history, give it an importance in the eyes of maturer years.
Whether we study it whilst flashing with splendor as the




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           37
residence of a great monarch, or penetrate its gloom when
given up to the uses of a prison, the same intense interest pervades the story of its fortunes. Whilst its lofty halls have
been ringing with merriment of the masques and mummeries
of a court ball, the sigh of some lone martyr to liberty was
smothered in the damps of its dungeons. In its mysterious
cabinets ambition was born, and conquest planned; in its
sombre chambers of strong bolts and grated windows, pined
the royal prisoners that victory gave.  What strangely
mingled tales its old walls might tell of splendor and misery, glory and shame, mirth and sorrow. Its lofty turrets
and towers may be justly considered the archives of Britain.  On its mildewed walls and creaking portcullis is
written the social history of the English people. Yet this
hoary pyramid of pride, which the Conqueror reared, and
his successors rendered memorable by their presence, and
their deeds, has been converted to purposes that an old barn
might answer equally as well. The munificent policy by
which the English government have been latterly distinguished, has changed this ancient stronghold, so replete with
records of which England might boast, into a common warehouse for the lumber and rubbish of the ordnance department. To subject the gloomy old pile to such vile uses, is
like baiting a chained lion with lapdogs-the sport is as
unworthy those engaged in it as the unfortunate victim.
Light is now excluded from those elegant apartments,
which once blazed with all the magnificence of a court, for
powder has usurped the place of kings, and the gay courtiers have been banished by lead. Those luxurious chambers, where many an antique dandy has capered "to the
lascivious pleasings of a lute," are now stowed with the bales
and barrels of government.  The spider weaves his web
where floated the gorgeous tapestry of other days. And the
silence of those lofty corridors, which once echoed the busy




38                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
hum of a royal residence, is now interrupted only by the
gambols of rats that have taken advantage of the solitude.
In a country where they profess to respect every thing
old, and where any thing would be idolized that dates back
to William the Conqueror; among a nation who estimate
the merits of men and wine only by the date of their family
and the time of its vintage, its antiquity alone should
have protected the Tower.  But money is stronger thani
time among them.  Nothing can be so ennobled by the
latter that the former cannot purchase its honor.  No
national monument is respected when money is either to be
made or saved by its desecration.  To avoid the investment of a few thousand pounds in proper arsenals and storehouses, the stately palace of England's best kings has been
subjected to its present degradation.  Economy is as honorable in the administration of governments, as it is desirable in the management of domestic affairs.  But are such
petty savings becoming the wealth and dignity of a great
nation?  Does not such extreme frugality sink into parsimony?  Is it not more sordid than prudent? disgraceful
rather than honorable?
The strength of these massive walls and frowning towers
-the hoary survivors of eight centuries-are only admirable in their eyes as a safe means of protection to the public
stores. The airy turrets, and picturesque beauty of the
White Tower-rich in the lore that Englishmen should
love to cherish-only appear interesting in their eyes when
they calculate the probable amount they may make by their
exhibition. Having found that the White Tower could be
made more profitable as a showroom than as a warehouse.
they have gotten up an exhibition, very similar, in the mallner of conducting it, to that of tihe Abbey.  They ehar?sixpence —only admit visitors in parties-and leave them at
the mercy of rude guides, just as they do at the Wcstmiu



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           39
ster. The only difference is that the parties must consist
of fourteen persons, instead of seven, and that the guides
dress in red, instead of black.
A stranger, on entering the lowering gateway, is stopped
at the ticket-office. "1 Sixpence, sir," remarks the doorkeeper,
as he hands him his ticket. The gentleman pays his sixpence, and is moving off, when he is stopped by " Perhaps
you would like to see the Crown Jewels and Regalia?"
" Yes, of course; I wish to see every thing that is shown."
" Oh, very well; sixpence more, please," as he hands out
another ticket. The visitor makes a new application to his
pocket, and again moves on, when the doorkeeper once more
shouts after him, "VWe have excellent descriptions of the
Tower, -will you take one  "  The visitor stalks solemnly
back, and is greeted with," Only sixpence, sir," as he receives his book, and pays the required amount. "First door
on the right," observes the ticket-seller, as he turns to a
new applicant. This sharp individual, presiding over the
financial department of the Tower, appears to practice on
the homceopathic principle of making his charges in infinitesimally broken doses, to adapt them, no doubt, to the constitutional peculiarities of his nation, which would revolt at
the enormous charge of a whole shilling, unless artfully divided into sixpences.  After entering "the first door on
the right," our visitor has nothing more to amuse him, until
the fourteen are assembled, except to criticise the somewhat
theatrical costume of the guides, who are here dignified by
the title of "Warders," and to ruminate upon the very
honorable uses the English people make of the advantages
their ancestors have conferred upon them: Westfainster
and the Tower for instance.  How can he entertain very
exalted notions of England's honor, when he here sees it
bartered for so trifling a consideration?  How call he respect
Englishmen, when they have ceased to rl'cspect themselves'?




40                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
In paying sixpence to see the Tower, is a man not apt, in
spite of himself, to estimate the national character at the
same cheap rate 2
But to the dress of the warders. It consists of a surcoat of red merino, elaborately dashed with black velvet,
and set off by a low-crowned black hat, of outlandish appearance, which is said to complete the identical uniform of
yeomen of the guard, under Henry VIII. Their honorable
employers certainly displayed rare discrimination in rigging
out the warders in the livery of the tyrant, when they placed
them on their present dirty duty.  The arbitrary power,
which compels the nation and her guests to pay a paltry
sum for visiting public property, like the Tower, possesses
all the meanness, though destitute of the boldness, which
characterized Henry's outrages against the people.  The
surcoats of the gentlemen warders are rather scant, but
certain I am that the same quantity of merino never covered
an equal amount of ignorance and insolence as is stowed
away beneath each blushing uniform.
English officials however, are invariably impertinent, from
the policeman at the corner to the minister in Downingstreet. They all appear so impressed by the importance of
their positions, that they look down with a sort of lofty
scorn upon the rest of creation, and appearing really deluded
into the belief that they confer a favor on the people by
accepting their offices, they pocket their money, and treat
them as inferiors, with the coolest possible condescension
imaginable. They seem strangely to mistake their functions,
when, in becoming the servants of the public;, they consider
it incumbent on them to play its tyrants. A stranger might
suppose them paid to insult rather than oblige those whom
necessity brings into contact with them. Englishmen themselves avoid them, and urgent indeed must be the occasion
which could induce them to brave the unbearable presump



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.          41
tion of these insolent servitors.  Clothed in a little brief
authority, it is really amazing what an amount of arrogance
and rudeness a lowborn Englishman manages suddenly to
get up. In entering upon the duties'of an office, however
contemptible, they appear to imagine that they have become
integral portions of a haughty government, and must be feared
and fawned upon accordingly. In donning the badge of
office, they always assume the mysterious official air, which,
with bent brows and abstracted gaze, is intended to intimate
to the uninitiated how deeply they are immersed in the affairs of the nation. Even when his sole duty is to give such
information to the public as may be required, the meanest
official will reply to a civil question with monosyllabic tartness, as if his private meditations had been unwarrantably
intruded upon. Indeed, none of them ever condescend to
attend to the business of their offices, without a supercilious
air of doing a Avor instead of duty, which they are well
paid to perform. From the clerk at the railway depot to
the secretary of the office where a man is compelled to go
about passports, the same laconic rudeness is observable. I
conceive it to be the duty of a government, which so frequently demands attendance at its public offices, so to regulate them as to protect not only its own subjects, but
strangers, from the insults of these impertinent hirelings.
The party of fourteen have been assembled. We are
drawn up in a line, and undergo a brief inspection as to tickets, &c., when our fat leader, in red, places himself at the
head of the column, and we immediately take up the line of
march, double-quick time, for the White Tower. We make
no halts on the way to admire the gloomy portal-the massive walls: fourteen feet thick, and the deep fosse, which is
now dry; we pause not to wonder at the ponderous oak
doors, and rusty portcullis of the Traitor's Gate, but are
hurried on more like a file of prisoners for the dungeons of




42                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
the Tower, than a party of interesting tourists, each one of
whom had paid his sixpence, and was consequently curious
to examine all that presented itself. We enter the White
Tower when the real animation of the proceedings seems but
just commenced. Our guide.becomes marvellously lively in
his movements, and, considering the tower-like rotundity of
his solid person, he performed feats almost miraculous. How
he managed to keep in him the requisite quantity of wind
for his brisk trot, and unceasing flow of the flat jokes and
stale information with which he regaled us, really seemed to
me one of the most curious things I witnessed in the Tower.
Ours was a breath-taking speed. In fact, if each one of us,
on entering, had been mounted on.one of the plethoric-looking horses composing the line of equestrian figures in the
armory, we could not have galloped through faster, or seen
less, than under the direction of our corpulent guide. In
our helter-skelter, pell-mell, devil-take-the-hindmost sort of
race, there was a prolonged flash of armor, swords, and
lances-a hideous vision of instruments of torture, and droll
implements for rendering war more terrible, by mangling its
victims,-and indistinct phantoms of blocks and axes,-all
dancing about Sir Walter Raleigh's prison apartment in inexplicable confusion, when we were suddenly put out, as having seen a sixpence worth of the Tower.
Why is it, I demand again, if government will persist in
charging visitors to public places of celebrity, that they will
not charge enough to render the style of getting up the exhibition more in accordance with the interest of the objects, and
in a way altogether to dispense with these nuisances of guides
who at present infest them? Or if it is essential to their own
comfort to have some official about the premises, why not
make the price of admission sufficiently great to command
the services of men of intelligence, who might materially
assist and enliven the visitor's examination of the objects of




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           43
curiosity? Station these persons in the armory of the White
Tower, for instance, and -allow the intelligent visitor some
opportunity of pausing amidst so many ancient and curious
things which he finds worthy of study.  What time has he
during the peripatetic discourse of nonsense with which he
is now inflicted, to examine with attention a single object,
or indulge, however cursorily, his natural curiosity?  Our
warder seemed equally put out in his rigmarole by pauses
and questions; so he paid no sort of attention to either.
He never stopped or even caught his breath till he had gotten
through with us and his story together. How remarkably
instructive, as well as interesting, he succeeded in making
himself, one might judge from the following example::" Ladies and gentlemen, this is a suit of harmor worn by'Enry the Heighth."  Both pieces of information happened
to be equally superfluous, as the name of Henry VIII. was
written above the figure in fair Roman characters, and the
streaks of gold were very plainly visible at different points
of the harness. Yet he delivered himself with all the pompous volubility with which he incidentally made the startling
announcement to the company, " That the'orse of King'Enry was hactually much given to heating hoats to hexcess."
But so long as the English government is directed by the
present catchpenny policy, it will be too greedy to abolish
charges altogether at Westminster, St. Paul's and the Tower, and too timid to make any alterations in the manner of
exhibiting them.  The guides, at all the places, are indispensable allies in the present system. By abolishing these
irresistible propellers, pauses would inevitably occur, which
by allowing a visitor some opportunity of gratifying his curiosity, might rob the exchequer of an additional sixpence,
by lessening the probability of his returning for a second
visit. No such danger must be incurred, and the guides are




44                  ENGLISH ITZMS.
conseqeuntly kept in active requisition. It is now an important part of their duty, like the donkey-boys of Egypt, to
keep the party at top speed, to prevent the possibility of a
visitor's seeing any thing with sufficient distinctness to make
him feel satisfied with a single visit. His introductory rush
is merely intended to increase his desire for future inspections. As much as I disliked to become a victim of so miserable a conspiracy, I was compelled to yield, and as fast as
I was ejected, I went back, paid another sixpence, and waited the assembling of a new fourteen, till I was able to form
some conception of the White Tower. It was my only
chance, and by examining a little each time, I at last became somewhat familiar with the intensely interesting objects in the horse armory, and the apartment occupied by
Sir Walter Raleigh, during his long imprisonment. But
what an insufferable bore a man is forced to submit to, because the English government have not the liberality to
throw open these celebrated places to the public free of
charge, and yet are wanting in the moral courage to charge
as much for one long visit, as a half-dozen short ones cost.
Englishmen universally object to the haste with which
an American takes his meals; a dinner, according to their
authority, is something to be lingered over with toying fondness; but they dispatch the refined mental enjoyment of
Westmiflster, St. Paul's, and the Tower, with a celerity astounding even to us go-ahead Americans. Their extreme
deliberation at the dinner-table, and the excessive rapidity
with which they hurry through the intellectual feasts spread
at these celebrated places, decisively indicate how vastly more
important they consider the gratification of the belly than the
mind. It is, however, a happy illustration of the character of
the people. The leopard cannot change his spots, nor the Ethiopian his skin. Their innocent ignorance, that a man could
derive any sort of pleasure from mere thought and associa



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.         -45
tion, would be perhaps a much better apology for their unseemly manner of exhibiting sacred spots, than the cheapness
of the price of admission. They find it' difficult to realize
that a man can ever require less substantial food than roastbeef, or that he could long for more ethereal inspiration than
a bottle of porter. They appear to think that the mind
need possess no higher cultivation, than to appreciate an artistically cooked dish; and that it requires no more intensive knowledge than to find the way to market. Between
the dinner-table and the market-house, an Englishman's highest aspirations continually wander; he has no hope, and
knows no fear beyond them. All other scenes and plans are
mere accessories to these, which may be safely pronounced
thefaci of the ellipse in which rolls his existence.
Better would it be for the honor of the English Nation,
if they had been born in the degradation, as they are endued
with the propensities, of the modern Egyptians. Brighter
far would be their reputation if they had been reared to cry
" backsheesh" to each passing stranger, rather than degrade
those monuments of glory, received from their ancestors, into
lasting memorials of their own shame. A people that have
grown up in rags and ignorance, are pardonable for the grovelling instincts of wretchedness. But what palliation can
be offe'red of the conduct of Great Britain? To a nation,
whose ostentatious piety sends missionaries into the remotest
quarters of the globe, even charity refuses an apology, for
the habitual desecration of her churches.
The very advantages which wealth and power have conferred upon her, are witnesses, trumpet-tongued, against her
baseness. Is such an example to the rest of the world worthy the enlightened head of civilization in the middle of the
nineteenth century? Does the golden or the copper age
reign in England, where pelf is dearer than honor, and pence
are eagerly received in exchange for reputation?  The me



46                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
morials of munificence, left them by their fathers, have, in
their hands, become the testimony which convicts them of
meanness.
Want often reduces pride to lowliness, and necessity
will sometimes drive the noblest natures to the unworthiest
practices.  It would be lucky for England if she had
been unfortunate; poverty might have proved her salvation.
But with wealth, far surpassing that of every other country in
the universe, and with all the education and refinement which
that wealth could bestow, she disgraces the high position
which circumstances have conferred upon her, in mere wontonness of corruption.  Their besotted nature would excuse
the Hottentots, even in the eyes of the most censorious, for
bartering away the priceless mementoes of the past glories
of their country. We do but pity the ignorance of the boor.
who sold for a few florins the almost invaluable diamond
lost by Charles the Bold at the battle of Granson; but wvat
feeling of sympathy can we reserve for a civilized nation,
anxious to sell that " immediate jewel of their souls," their
own good name?  What anathemas do we not feel tempted
to heap on. the heads of those daily engaged in the traffic of
that "purest treasure mortal times afford "-" spotless reputation."
No collection of curiosities in the world better deserves
its name, than the Zoological Gardens of London.  In the
number and variety of animals, they greatly surpass the farfamed Jardin des Plantes of Paris.  No more extensive or
curious field, could be presented to the study of the naturalist. Every zone has been made to contribute some of the
rarest denizens of its savage forests.  Every species of
animal, from the white bear of the polar regions, to the
giraffe of the tropics, is so arranged in the same extensive
inclosures, as to develope more of their native peculiarities




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           47
than in any other menagerie in the world. Here we find the
seal diving for his fishy meal, the hippopotamus lazily lolling
in his quagmire, and the elephant as quietly suckling her
young, as if none of them had ever ceased to roam in their
own particular element. By the exquisitely artistic arrangemt:ts, which wealth and science have united to make the
tiger is cheated of his jungle, and the lioness rears her cubs
as regularly as it raging in her own native deserts. It
would be impossible, by the most elaborate description, to
afford a correct idea of the taste and elegance displayed, as
well in the arrangement of the beasts, as in the adornment
of the gardens themselves. We find cranes slowly wading
their.ponds, or eagerly watching for the game that lurks at
its bottom. Here all the rarer and more exquisite varieties
of water-fowl are seen, with their downy broods, gayly swimming in lakes, so naturally wild, and wildly beautiful, as to
make them forget the solitary lagoons'tis their nature to
frequent. It would require a man of scientific attainments
in natural history, properly to name even the classes of the
various beasts, birds, and reptiles, composing this stupendous
collection. All the numerous exhibitions I had previously
seen, served to give me but a peor idea of the extent and
interest df this. The gardens themselves, which are very
extensive, are' rendered charming by the exquisite arrangement of mingled grass-plots, tr'ees, and flowers, which enhance the beauty of the place, as much as the interest of
the exhibition. Every thing is beautiful, every thing grand
and munificent, except the ruling spirit of the place. The
Zoological Gardens, like Westminster, St. Paul's, and the
Tower, are under the control of the English Government,
and are subjected to the same degradation. " The trail of
the serpent is over them all." The magnificence displayed
in the arrangement of the gardens, acts like a microscope
upon the meanness of reducing the nation to the condition




48                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
of a common showman: it serves to expose its deformity in
all its hideousness.  If the Zoological Gardens really be a
national exhibition, the nation certainly possesses the right
to their gratuitous enjoyment. But no! the government
would then be deprived of their most acceptable occupation.
They basely use, without permission, the authority of the
people's name, to make them sharers in a disgrace for which
they alone are responsible. A stranger in paying his shilling
for admission into an exhibition, which has been dubbed " national," in contradistinction from another in the Surrey Gardens, very naturally suspects that the people are partners in this
contemptible transaction. But he learns with astonishment
that they are fellow-sufferers from this degrading imposition.
Many countries have failed properly to remunerate their
leaders for the blessings they have conferred upon them; bat
the English people are compelled to pay for the ignominy,
with which their despotic rulers have loaded them.
How marked is the contrast existing between the course
of England, and the jealous care with which France preserves her national integrity. In Paris every institution of
learning and science, all galleries of fine arts, and places of
amusement, except the theatres, are thrown generously open
to the public. In making them national, France has made
them free. She justly considers it a stain upon her honor,
to degrade her great public institutions into mean sources
of gain. She rightly believes it beneath the dignity of a
powerful government, to demand pecuniary rewards for services rendered to its subjects. She seems happily aware of
the distinction between the munificence of a nation, and the
necessities of an individual. She appears to feel that though
a citizen may get up an exhibition, without loss of honor, a
nation cannot play the showman, without disgrace. There is
no branch of science-no description of literature, which a
man is desirous of pursuing. that he cannot accomplish, free




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           49
of charge, in the celebrated institutions of Paris.  The
enlightened spirit, which erected the colleges, has nobly
thrown open their doors to all classes of citizens. The public galleries, enriched by master-pieces of all the celebrated
painters and sculptors of the world, are gratuitously opened
to the humblest individual, whose taste may incline to the
enjoyment of works of art. There is no learned investigation, which a man may have occasion to make, in which he
will not be facilitated, without cost, by the intelligent
officials, whom the government has stationed in the public
libraries. And every grotesque Frenchman is allowed to
enjoy, as long as he pleases, the antics of the monkeys in
the" Jardine des Plantes" without previously paying a franc
for admission at the gate.
Would not the English do well to take a few hints from
their neighbors, in their management of the Zoological Gardens? If the government of the wealthiest country in the
world cannot really afford to lose the trifling revenue, arising from this public promenade, why not farm the gardens
out to a company, instead of stooping to play the showman
themselves?  Such an arrangement would necessarily involve a division of profits, which the sordid nature of Englishmen could not be persuaded to submit to, though they
should be allowed to reserve the lion's share of the spoils.
But the genius of the English government appears so happily
adapted to the routine of a petty showman, it would be a
pity not to go through it. They are conscious of excelling
in small exhibitions, and consequently delight in them.
From the Fire Tower, to the Great Show of all nations,
their pre-eminence in this line is truly remarkable.  They
have the despicable vanity to feel proud of this accomplishment, and are eager for its display. They'seem to think,
that success in this very honorable ambition culls fresh
laurels for the wreathes that Shakspeare has woven, and
3                      




50                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
Milton twined; they seem deluded into the belief that the
inimitable skill they display in twopenny exhibitions, adds
to the glory of the nation for which Nelson struggled and
Wellington fought.
But the apex of national turpitude is the charge of sixpence for the privilege of visiting Chelsea Hospital, for old
soldiers. According to the established rules, at Chelsea,
the payer of sixpence is shown through the refectories, the
dormitories, and smoking-rooms of the veterans-this is all
well enough. But when it is remembered, that the payment
of this paltry coin confers the right of invading the sick
wards; of disturbing the suffering invalids, by impertinent
questions, and rude examinations of themselves and their
beds, the hardest heart is moved.
Even charity, which should purely shine in the soul, like
dew in flow.ers, becomes in the hands of Englishmen a blackgrained spot on their honor. Grudging the pittance of a
shilling a month to the weather-beaten remnants of these
once sturdy defenders of their country-the government
basely make their wounds and their hardships a catchpenny
show for the multitude. Any nation of atheists might make
the churches, built in the hated days of belief, a source of
profit; —sordid barbarians might degrade the wonderful
monuments of their more civilized ancestors, by charging
visitors to see them,-but to drag from their lowly retreat
these maimed and shattered victims of national ambition, to
be stared and wondered at, like caged beasts, is an outrage
against humanity, that even savages would shrink from.
This is a deed kindly reserved, as the crowning glory of the
enlightened Britons of the nineteenth century.
Nell Gwin, who suggested, and her Royal Profligate who
founded this asylum for old  soldiers, would have been
shocked by such a proposition, embarrassed as they often




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.          51
were in their circumstances. For " pretty witty Nelly" and
the Merry Monarch were not wholly lost to all the kindlier
feelings of the human heart, reckless as the careers of both
had been. Nell was truly charitable, and Charles was so,
after a fashion of his own, great as their faults undoubtedly
were; and either one of them would have scorned so revolting a means to raise money, however sadly in want of it
hey might have been. It remained for the boastful countrymen of Chaucer and Spenser, Shakspeare and Milton, to
commit, under the name of charity,-an outrage, which they
alone were capable of conceiving.  They may at least exult
in the consciousness that theirs is no ordinary baseness.
If it be their ambition to excel in this quality, they certainly have reason to feel satisfied with their success.
The valor with which these disabled veterans had, in
their youth, defended the government, ought surely to have
secured to them a quiet refuge for their age. But past services are never remembered by the heartless,'tis only the
hope of future profit that quickens their charity.  Coming
into the world as proper food for powder, these poor old fellows should have felt only too much delighted to compound
with fate, by becoming inmates of the Chelsea Hospital,
instead of some ditch on the Continent. Besides, government had given over fifteen millions of dollars to the Duke
of Wellington, —and they should have felt more than satisfied
in hearing of the rewards of their. commander. What more
could they expect from their country?  The obscurity of
their origin had placed them beyond the pale of British
charity-cringing to the great-obsequious to the high-the
dwarfed souls of Englishmen have no wide-extending sympathy for the humble-no soothing pity for the lowly. In
their eyes poverty is crime,-and wretchedness deserves its
sufferings for having been guilty of the sin of being poor.




52                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
Our be-sixpenced traveller flies in disgust from the
Zoological Gardens to Chatsworth. But how suddenly are
all his magnificent notions of luxurious profusion, and
generous hospitality put to flight, when he is met at the
gate by the same significant extension of the hand, which
experience has taught him' means no polite welcome, but a
new demand on his purse. It requires but a few weeks'
residence in the country to convince him, that an Englishman
rarely ever extends his hand to a stranger, unless it is to put
it into his pocket. But this all classes make it a rule to do,
as often, and as deeply, as the loosest interpretation of the
laws will permit without their incurring the danger of being
indicted as pickpockets.
I never was able fully to realize what splendid triumphs
wealth was capable of, when directed by taste, till I visited
Chatsworth.  It must seem wonderful, even to those accustomed to the profusion of monarchical governments, that a
subject should dwell in a palace so gorgeous.  Chatsworth
is worthy of the enterprise which has constructed a branch
railroad leading to Rowsley, for the accommodation of the
crowds of visitors, eager to see the magnificence of the mansion, and wander amidst the surpassing beauties of the
grounds.  The showy magnificence of Chatsworth and Blenheim, and the gloomy grandeur of Warwick and Alnwick
castles, serve to remind us, like the glittering shell of the
tortoise, what worthless and insignificant animals often
inhabit the most splendid mansions.
In all my wanderings I have never seen any thing which
approached this beautiful seat of the Duke of Devonshire.
The rigid avenues, and spruce flower-beds of Versailles-the
floral charms of the Italian villas, and even the varied
attractions of Windsor and Hampton Court themselves,
must yield in beauty to the countless fascinations of Chats



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           53
worth.  To throw open so superb an estate for the free
enjoyment of the public, seems most munificent. But this
munificence sinks into meanness, when it is remembered that
His Grace receives a fee of admission from his visitors. Such
a proceeding on the part of a nobleman, whose income exceeds $5,000 a day, must satisfactorily demonstrate to every
mind, that though an Englishman may have the pride to
attempt a magnificent scheme, he lacks the generosity to
carry it out.  Ostentation suggested to the Duke a course
as princely as his income, but that cohesive sympathy existing between a Briton's fingers and ha'pence, chafed parsimony into reminding him, that he might appear profuse
and yet save money by the operation. In his eagerness to
adopt the suggestion, he forgot the first principle in moral
philosophy, that the intention with which a deed is done,
and not the deed itself, determines its degree of virtue. In
his course at Chatsworth, he debases the spirit, whilst he
retains the form of a noble action. This regal display of
hospitality is made a cloak for the low cunning of a showman.
For he is well aware, that this flaming announcement of
Chatsworth's being thrown open to the public, like the
charity of Jenny Lind, is well calculated to increase the
general curiosity. He confirms his nationality, by being.
mean whilst professing to be sumptuous. He pretends to
open his gorgeous palace for the amusement of the public,
but takes good care to station a doorkeeper to collect the
fees of admission to its different departments. And yet he
would no doubt be very reluctant frankly to confess to the
world, that although he had the vanity to affect liberality.
he was too penurious to bear the expense of it. Like the
ostrich, he sticks his head in the sand, and imagines himself
in the profoundest concealment.  He seems deluded by the
hope that the basest counterfeit, emanating from a personage
of the Duke of Devons:1ire's rank, must pass current-and




54                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
that this affected display of public hospitality must inevitably establish his reputation for generosity. Happy in the
fancied success of a deception, which he has only been able
to practise upon himself, this silly noble struts about with
the airs and pretension of the petted favorite of the kingdom. He clearly manifests the opinion he entertains of the
intelligence of the English people, in supposing them capable
of being imposed on by so shallow an artifice. The melancholy folly of such vanity can only be injurious to himself.
People pity him too much to despise him.
I mean not to intimate that any portion of the large
amounts collected at the doors of Chatsworth actually goes
into the pockets of His Grace. But they are, nevertheless,
remarkably convenient in defraying the expense of a large
household of servants. The Duke owns besides Chatsworth,
H-ardwick Hall, Bolton Abbey, Lismore Castle, Devonshire
House, and Chiswick, the large establishments of all of
which magnificent seats must be maintained in a style becoming his rank and enormous fortune. The opportunity,
afforded by the unsurpassed attractions of Chatsworth to
get rid of the expense of one of them, was much too tempting to be resisted by a native of His Grace's country-he
therefore sullies a noble name to add a few paltry pounds
to a fortune which is eventually to be enjoyed by strangers.
No foreigner would hesitate at half-a-crown, and not many
Englishmen would grumble at sixpence, as a gratuity to the
different servants showing them through the house and
grounds —.so trifling a remuneration only becomes offensive
when it is demanded as a right. No one could consider the
amount oppressive: on the contrary, all must acknowledge
the show to be a remarkably cheap one  but'tis the sordid
principle that so offends every enlightened feeling. The
idea of a private gentleman, of wealth'and rank, deriving a
profit from the exhibition of his grounds, must be equally re



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.            55
volting to all classes. In such a course there is so glaring
a violation of propriety, that the meanest cannot fail to discover it.
The highly acquisitive disposition of the Duke appears
to be a birthright; the Countess of Shrewsbury, the founder
of the family, having turned her great beauty to some account, in marrying four rich husbands, and prevailing on all
of them to settle their fine estates on her, and her heirs for
ever.  In this judicious arrangement, the large fortunes of
Robert Barlow of Barlow, Sir William Cavendish, Sir William St. Loe, and the Earl of Shrewsbury, were all, by the
fascinations of Miss Elizabeth Hardwick, amalgamated into
one overgrown estate, for the future Dukes of Devonshire.
She had an heir by Sir William Cavendish, from whom the
family are descended. William the fourth Earl of Devonshire was created a Duke by William III., as a reward for
his treachery to the reigning sovereign; and the present
Duke seems to consider it impossible farther to degrade a
title acquired in such a way.
But the unworthiness of its owner cannot mar the unrivalled elegance of Chatsworth. Ogres have often before
been known to dwell in enchanted castles of fairy proportions.  The exterior of the mansion is rendered impressive
by a graceful facade of Ionic columns; its interior is crowded
with every thing that luxury could suggest, or wealth supply.
Its ceilings are adorned with the brilliant frescoes of Verrio,
and Sir James Thornhill; its rooms of state are hung with
the finest specimens of Goblin tapestry. The walls of its
picture galleries are filled with works by the old masters;
and among them is Landseer's famous Bolton Abbey, exhibiting more breathing animation, and fuller of genius than
any modern picture I have ever seen.  Here, too, are to be
met with many exquisite specimens of female loveliness, in
the peculiar floating and voluptuous style of Sir Thomas




56                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
Lawrence.  In the elegant collection of statuary may be
numbered pieces by Canova, Thorwaldsen, Westmacott, and
Tanerani, the best of living Italian artists.  Opening from
this exquisite gallery is the orangery, made poetically attractive by the rare exotics, statues, and birds, that divide
the attention.  Many of the superb apartments are rendered
doubly interesting by the extraordinany carvings in wood,
by Gibbons. It is wonderful to study the exquisite grace,
and lightness, which he has imparted to his fruit and flowers.
The turn of a leaf or the delicacy of a flower are as divinely
given, as if things cut in wood were not proverbial comparisons for all that is stiff and ungainly.  It would be impossible to conceive of the inimitable naturalness which he
has succeeded in throwing into the relaxed limbs and drooping wings of dead hares and partridges-even the distended
gills of fish are represented, with a delicate success, that
painting itself would fail to equal.
But the grounds present the highest claims to beauty.
In no country in the world do the trees seem more coolly
shady, or does the grass look greener than in England. The
humid climate appears peculiarly adapted to the development of all their beauties in these greatest ornaments of nature. A man cannot know the delicious charms of the English greensward-so fresh, so dark, so closely cut and carefully
swept that it may, even in prose, be said to look like a green
velvet carpet-till he has rolled on it, under the thick shade
of the drooping elms. A poet would fail to do it justice in
his happiest description. The grassplots of Chatsworth are
tastefully broken by lakes, fountains, and flower-gardens, and
from these you could wander away down the shady avenues
of fine old trees, whose rustling leaves would whisper to you
nothing but the poetic legends of the past. The luxurious
softness of this portion of the landscape is strongly contrasted with the wild, almost savage nature of the scenery




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.            57
beyond.  From  a lofty crag in the distance, made picturesque by crowning firs and rocky pinnacles, a waterfall foams
and tumbles with the roar and precipitation of some mountain
torrent in Switzerland.  Still farther off is a small cascade,
whose shadowy stream, undulating as it pours down the bare
side of the cliff, looks like some delicate veil of silver tissue,
gently stirred by the lazy summer winds. The soft realms
of beauty, in which greensward and flowers contend for the
mastery, cease at the banks of the river, which, on the other
side from the waterfall, winds in graceful curves far as the
eye can reach through the sunny meadow-land. The farther
banks of the silent stream slowly rise into gentle elevations,
shaded here and there with clumps of scrubby oaks, beneath
whose shadow crouch whole herds of dozing deer. When
wearied with this warmly glowing picture, the visitor turns
his footsteps towards the famous conservatory, of which
everybody has heard so much, and passing beneath some
thick trees he suddenly finds himself in the loneliest of wild
scenes. Huge masses of rocks, now gray and moss-grown,
and often half concealed with flowering mountain shrubs,
have been so artfully piled, that one is reluctant to doubt
that nature has placed them there. The effect of suddenly
issuing from a spot, smiling with the rarest cultivation, into a
scene so rugged, was delightful in the extreme. He pauses to
watch the merry gambols of a noisy little brook, that cbmes
bounding and pitching towards him as it chafes into foam
against the rocks that obstruct its course. As it nears the
spot where he stands, it rolls more calmly over its shiny
pebble bed, muttering its complaints against the roughness
of its recent encounter with the rocks, in a low babble full
of melody. It steals on through banks of freshest verdure,
gemmed with wild violets, whose perfume fills the air; its
murmurs cease, its course is almost stilled. and it lingers as
if enamored of so sweet a lurking-place.  Then it goes
3*




58                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
creeping and peering among the tall water-lilies, whose nodding blooms of white seem laughingly to reprove the truant stream.  Again dashing away among the projecting
rocks, whose mossy points are more than half concealed by
the purple clusters of the rhododendrons, and the delicate
flowers of the mountain laurel, our brook goes rejoicing on
its way, skipping, wheeling, and dodging, as if in a game of
hide and seek with the delighted traveller. Once more it
calmly glides into the broad open space, silent, as if in the
ineffable joy of being so near the end of its varied pilgrimage. Slowly it moves along, and finally sinks upon the
bosom of the expectant lake, without disturbing the glassy
stillness of its surface, which is only broken by some playful
carp, that occasionally bounds into the soft summer air.
The great conservatory is perhaps the greatest wonder of
the whole establishment, although the one we are most familiar with.  On his way thither the visitor passes innumerable
fountains of various designs; among them is the highest jet
of water in Europe, and a fantastic weeping willow of
bronze, which scatters around the most refreshing showers,
from every leaf and twig. He must also pause to admire
the grand cascade, which, issuing from a temple-like structure on the hill, rolls down a long succession oA marble
steps, dashing its spray upon the antique vases and statues
with which they are adorned. The conservatory, which previous to the erection of the Crystal Palace was the largest
structure of its kind in the world, has a carriage road
through its midst, and measures 276 feet one way, and 123
the other. It looks like two vast domes of rounding oblong,
rather than circular form, piled one upon the other-has 67
feet of height in its central arched roof and a span of 70
feet, and contains more than 70,000 square feet of glass.
In its vast collection are assembled all the rarer and more
beautiful plants from the sunny climes of the East and




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.            59
South. The bristling cocoanut, the clustering banana, and
the unsightly date, are the stateliest specimens of these curious representatives of the tropics.  Does it not seem strange
that a man, residing amidst a scene of surpassing grandeur
and beauty, should fail to imbibe some elevation of spirit
from surrounding nature? Does it not appear extraordinary that a man, dwelling in a spot of such fairy loveliness, should retain, and indulge the most grovelling instincts of human nature's lowest grade?
Up to as late a date as 1834, the English game laws existed in a form to embody all the rigor and injustice of the
Forest Laws, presenting but this solitary difference, that the
former were maintained for the amusement of four hundred
tyrants. whilst the latter were enacted for the gratification
of a single despot. By the extraordinary legislation of
these titled lawgivers of England, ganze was rendered more
sacred and inviolate than property. These sporting Lycurguses arbitrarily selected certain beasts of the field and
fowls of the air, and made it highly criminal in any ": baseborn person" "to kill them. or eat them, or buy them, or
sell them, or carry them, or to have in his possession any engine or instrument, by which they might be slain, maimed,
or injured."  Nobody but a qualified person could amuse
himself by a shot at a partridge or hare.  A rich merchant
or manufacturer might own land, and give employment to
thousands of laborers, but his wealth being base, he enjoyed
no right to interfere with the aristocratic pleasures of his
noble betters. Woodcocks, pheasants, partridges, and hares,
were delicacies which he was forbidden even to taste. The
sages of the King's Bench finally ruled that "a qualified
person might take out a tradesman, stock-broker, clothier,
attorney, surgeon, or other inferior person, to beat the
bushes, and see a hare killed, without being liable to to pen



60                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
alty."  But wo: to the unlucky wight who took a private
shot on his own account, but could not attach some noble
title to his name. Nobility was a qualification absolutely
essential to a man's becoming a shooter. All unqualified
persons were not only denied the amusement of killing
game, but they were not allowed the privilege of buying of
those who were.  The " game" flavor of partridges and
hares was not to be tainted, by passing through the unqualified hands of chapmen and higglers. Their aristocratic
qualities were not to be destroyed by being retailed, like
ale and dipped candles, by tradespeople. " Victuallers,
poulterers, pastry cooks, and other mean persons should not
carry game nor have it in possession." If an unqualified
person were suspected of having game, or any dog, gun, or
snare for killing or wounding it, his house might be searched,
and if any net, or snare, pheasant, partridge, fish, fowl, or
other game were found, the offender might be forthwith carried before a justice, and fined, or sent to the House of Correction, and there whipped, and kept to hard labor." " If a
man only happened to spoil or tread on an egg of a partridge, pheasant; mallard, teal, bittern. or heron, he was
fined or imprisoned."  " But if he went forth in the night
for the third time, with the full intent of catching an aristocrat bird, coney, or other game, he was transported beyond
the seas for seven years." Notwithstanding these absurd
restrictions, and severe enactments against the disturbance
of privileged birds, by unqualified persons, it was discovered
by a committee of the House of Lords in 1828, that game
was as regular an article for sale in all the markets of London, as any other commodity. One salesman alone sold 500
head of game in a week. It was impossible for their Lordships longer to pretend ignorance of a fact they had long
been aware of. They therefore found it necessary to make
the astounding discovery, that the noble Lords themselves




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           61
must be the principal offenders in this illicit but profitable
traffic in game.
Game had been up to this period like the national honor
-something for whose preservation every idle upstart felt
himself personally responsible. All classes of society united
in regarding with becoming horror the unpardonable sin of
poaching; and the antipathy to poachers was as universal,
among the descendants of Mother Eve by the English line,
as the hatred of snakes is supposed to be natural to her posterity generally. Not even the example of the illustrious
Bard of Avon could elevate the nocturnal forages of the
poacher, into being placed in the same rategory with the
dashing exploits of Captain McHeath, or bold Dick Turpin.
Faithful serving-men, in expectancy of pensions, ingratiated
themselves with their masters, by midnight prowlings after
poachers.  Ignorant country magistrates displayed their
zealous inefficiency in committing all suspected persons for
trial. Rollicking Squires, the Sir Rotgut Wildfires of the
country, won easy reputations as public-spirited individuals,
by their blustering protection of "game;" and the county
assizes never considered their docket complete, unless some
unfortunate vagabond had been transported for poaching.
The genius of the English nation was emphatically opposed
to the crime, —and the solitary poacher was pursued with
that sort of vindictive enthusiasm which centuries before
had characterized the wolf-hunt. Is it possible to suppose,
under such circumstances, that the large quantities of game,
daily sold in the markets of London, could have been supplied by the stray poachers, whom keen-eyed prosecution
had allowed to escape transportation? It was an absurdity
that occurred to the obtuse understandings of their Lordships themselves. They stood convicted of the violation of
the laws they had passed, expressly to break, in order to secure the privilege of the exclusive sale of game.




62                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
These noble outlaws, who professed to regard a tradesman as a more honest, but much less reputable personage
than a highwayman, and would have shrunk from an imputation of trade, as from an accusation of picking a pocketwere yet detected in this peddling traffic under circumstances which should have caused most of them to make
voyages to Botany Bay, if the laws had been as strictly enforced against rich offenders, as ordinary poachers. Game
was found to constitute a surreptitious branch of huckstering, much too profitable to their Lordships to be shared
with plebeian rivals, so long as the monopoly could be enjoyed by stealth. But when their felonious practices were
exposed, each noble hypocrite rolled his eyes in horror at
the extent to which poaching had been carried, and began to
fear that the Game Laws, like Draco's bloody code, defeated themselves by their own severity. Notwithstanding
their well-assumed surprise, that daring outlaws enough existed in England habitually to violate laws so stringent,
they were overwhelmed by the consciousness that every
Briton, though silent, was convinced that they themselves
were the violators of these laws. All England was aware
that, in order to secure their dirty gains, they endangered
the liberty of unsuspecting victuallers, and inoffensive poulterers-whose position did not place them above the lawsby making them accomplices in their petty-larceny villany.
The profits were enticing, but the odium was oppressive:
they therefore became willing to share the first to shuffle off
a portion of the last. Though endued with all the worst
propensities of the common poacher, without that apology
which want and misery afforded him for breaking the laws.
to prevent starvation, they showed themselves destitute of
that intrepidity of action, which inspires an involuntary sort
of respect, even for an outlaw.  Base enough to profit by
unlawful practices, they became yet more despicable, when
A'ley tirlidlv thrust innocent people between themiselves and




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           63
responsibility.  I feel an increased contempt for a poltroon,
mean enough to commit a dishonest deed, without the hardihood to brave the consequences of his own roguery. They
were arrant knaves, without one mitigating circumstance to
plead in their favor. Their fortunes, in placing them so far
above want, should have removed them from those temptations to evil, which, when heightened by hunger, the poor
must find it so difficult to resist.  Nobody but an Englishman could fail justly to discriminate between the guilt of
two persons, one of whom, though rich, commits theft in the
mere wantonness of depravity, and the other, who steals a
loaf of bread to relieve a starving family. Equity leans
towards recommending the impoverished wretch to mercy,
but English ethics favors the rich criminal, whose wealth
should only be a stronger reason for his condemnation.
Such is the mystic inviolability of money in England.
Even the heinous crime of poaching, which, in a plebeian, is
punished with such inexorable severity, becomes, in a Lord,
" justifiable" petty larceny. One poacher is transported to
a colony of felons, but the other remains comfortably at
home, to protect the game, and deplore the proneness of the
lower orders to depravity.
Detected in the violation of those laws which they themselves had passed, and for whose strict execution they pretended to be eager, the nobility could no longer pretend to
maintain the ancient game code. A law was accordingly
passed in 1834, allowing all owners of land to kill game
themselves, and permitting them to extend the permission to
other persons. When it is remembered how money is worshipped in England, and how highly prized is the privilege
to shoot, we may be very certain, though the landowners
might be sordid enough to rent out their sporting rights,
which very many of them do, that the shooting of game was
exclusively confined to the wealthier classes of the country
There is a vast demand for this still 1half-interdicted luxulry




64                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
of game to be supplied in all the markets of the United
Kingdom. Human nature has apparently inherited from
our first parents a decided weakness for forbidden fruits;
and this strong inclination is heightened in the numerous
class of rich pretenders, by one equally powerful-a desire
to ape the aristocracy in their fish dinners and game suppers.
When the naturally voracious appetites of the 27,000,000
of Englishmen are increased by two such powerful incentives, we can but wonder how they can ever be gratified by
game, though the 30,000 landowners should all take to
sporting.  If each one of these fortunate 30,000 should
shoot, as the most zealous sportsman would, and dispose of
his surplus game, it would be utterly impossible to keep up
the requisite supply. It is evident that they must assail the
doomed pheasants and partridges with some more powerful
motive than that which actuates the keenest sportsmen. No
one can doubt that, during the Fall months, these privileged
landowners and their friends engage in the profitable business of wholesale poulterers, which they pursue with an intensity of ardor only known to Englishmen, when in full cry
upon the scent of a sixpence. The nobility, the gentry, and
their guests are the hired butchers, who annually contract
to slaughter the required quantity of game.
Diana and Apollo came into the world together. The
patrons of hunting and the arts are twins; and even in these
modern days of degeneracy, the worshippers at the shrine of
one are certain to imbibe some of the doctrines of the other.
No man can be an enthusiastic sportsman without possessing
some of that refinement usually produced by a cultivation
of the fine arts. A real hunter, however wild in his habits,
or savage in his attire, is certain to have in him some of the
elements peculiar to a gentleman. Apollo has kindly imparted some of his native graces to the humblest of his twin
-sister's votaries.
There is something in the adventurous life of a hunter,




SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.           65
peculiarly adapted to the development of liberal feelings.
In the wild woods he has no suspicion, and knows no distrust of his fellow-men. Eternally communing with nature,
his soul must, in spite of all his disadvantages, be influenced
by the grandeur of the objects around him. The vastness
of the forest solitudes leaves room for the growth of all the
nobler impulses of man's nature. He may be destitute of
the advantages of a cultivated mind, he may have been deprived of all education from books; but he will always display that scorn of a mean action, that unthinking generosity
and native courtesy, which constitute the basis of true gentility. What then must we think of these professed followers
of Diana, who degrade their goddess and themselves by selling the sacrifices avowedly made for her altar? How few
of the generous impulses of the real sportsman can actuate
the man, who meanly retails the game he kills. If his tastes
enabled him truly to enjoy shooting, they would protect the
sport from such desecration. Even the least sordid of these
Englishmen experience none of the intense excitement and
joyful exhilaration of the sportsman,-they hunt, as they
patronize the arts, because they consider it gentlemanly to
do so. Shooting is deemed a peculiar propensity of the gentlemen, as the masses are wholly excluded from its indulgence, and a cockney affects the pea-jacket and hob-nailed
shoes of the sportsman, as he frequents the opera with white
kids and a lorgnette, merely because he is ambitious of appearing fashionable. Every gentleman goes down to the
country to shoot, and so, of course, must he. But though
he throws off his prim city suit, for the free-and-easy costume of the country, he cannot so readily dispose of his sordid inclinations.  True to his nature, he makes a profit of
his very pastimes. In obedience to the instincts of an Englishman, he degrades the noblest of manly exercises into the
dirty means of petty gain. He sells the game, which he
professes to shoot for excitement.




66                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
Honor is something which the whole world has united in
holding sacred even when religion has tottered. It is what
man most covets, and woman most admires.  Honor is the
attribute in which mortals most resemble gods. For honor
heroes have fought and minstrels have sung. It is something
to which even savages aspire with instinctive adoration. For
honor men live, for honor they will die. It is more precious
than poetry itself, for poets are eager to embalm it in their
verse. Men cling to honor even when hopes of salvation are
lost. I can conceive of a man of refined mind becoming so
wicked as to sell his own soul, but I cannot imagine a noble
being so debased as to part with its honor. The danger
which makes the possesion of honor doubtful, makes it
precious.  The hero's glory has ever been regarded the
highest. A soldier's honor like a woman's chastity was wont
to be considered above all price. England enjoys the distinction of making it a marketable commodity.  It was reserved for her to fix the rate at which it might be bought
and sold. She retails the honor of soldiers according to an
established tariff, which appropriately adorns all her public
places.  She speculates in glory as a petty hucksterer does
in rancid cheese. But the many who hate, and the few who
despise England, cannot exult over her baseness in selling
commissions in her own army. There is a degree of degradation, which changes scorn into pity; and makes us sincerly sympathize with those whom we most heartily despise.
I extract a leaf, for the amusement of my readers, from
the Army List, which is published every month by authority
of the War Office. Among a vast deal of information with
regard to the change of quarters, promotions and resignations, deaths and marriages of the officers, it contains the
following table for the edification of the curious with regard
to the merit promotions which have occurred. It is extremely
useful to rich young gentlemen in England, who are ambitious of becoming heroes; and will I hope prove not un



SIXPENNY MIRACLES IN ENGLAND.                            67
interesting to my readers in America. The table is conveniently arranged in pounds, shillings and pence; it is well
enough I presume to be particular even to minuteness in so
important a transaction as the sale of a reputation.
PRICES OF COMMISSIONS.
Difference in
value be-   Difference in
R A N K.                    Full Price of tween the se- value between
Commissions. veral Com-  Full and Half
missions in   Pay.
succession.
Life Guards.                                  1.   S.   1.   S.   1. s.  d.
Lieutenant-Colonel...................    7250  0   1900  0
Major............................. 5350  0   1850  O0
Captain.                                   3500 0 1715 0
Captain.............................  3500  0   1715  0
Lieutenant...........................    1785  0    525  0
Cornet...............................   1260  0
Royal Regiment of Horse Guards.
Lieutenant-Colonel...................  7250  0   1900  0
Major............................... 5350  0  1850  0
Captain......................   3...........500  0   1900  0
Lieutenant................ 1.....  600  0    400  0
Cornet............................... 1200                    I
Cornet.. 1200 0
Dragoon Guards and Dragoons.
Lieutenant-Colonel.................. 6175  0   1600  0   1533  0  0
Major............................... 4575  0   1350  0   1352  0  0
Captain.............................    3225  0   2035  0   1034  3  4
Lieutenant........................... 1190  0    350  0    632 13  4
Cornet.84.........................840  0                         300  0  0
Foot Guards.
Lieutenant-Colonel...................    9000  0    700  0
Major,      with Rank of Colonel..... 8300  0   3500  0
Captain,                   Lieut.-Col..  4800  0   2750  0
Lieutenant,                Captain.....  2050  0    850  0
Ensign,                    Lieutenant.  1200  0
Regimentsaf the Line.
Lieutenant-Colonel..................  4500  0   1300  0   1314  0  0
Major..............................   3200  0   1400  0    949  0  0
Captain..............................    1800  0   1100  0    511  0  0
Lieutenant..........................   700  0    250  0    365  0  0
Ensign..............................  450                   /150  0  0
Fusilier and Rife Regiments.
1st Lieutenant.......................  700  0    200  0    365  0  0
2d Lieutenant.......................  500  0                     200  0  0
0I




68                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
CHAPTER III.
THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.
THIS  chapter shall be a very brief one; for though I
rather courted the bores of the custom-house as a good
subject for railing at the English, yet they so far surpassed
all my preconceived notidns of their exaggeration, that I
cannot now remember them with sufficient patience to write.
But I feel that no description, however glowing, could portray them in their real hideousness. To those who have
experienced the annoyance, my description would seem tame
and unsatisfactory, and those happy mortals who have never
been subjected to the insolence of English custom-house
officers, had better remain in blissful ignorance of what may
be in store for them.  I once attempted to show that
Englishmen were instinctively insolent, but I had a very
vague idea of what I was describing. I was only familiar
with insolence as we read of it, and as we see it under ordinary circumstances in its embryo state. I had never met with
it in its perfected development-for I had, at that time, never
passed through the English custom-house. One can form
some idea of the tyranny concealed amidst the vast ramifications of the English government, when its vulgar fractions
in the shape of custom-house officials are so tyrannically
insolent.
But as I said before, I shall not dwell upon the weary
hours we were compelled to wait, jammed and crowded
together in a small pen; our feet trampling on other
people's toes, and our elbows in every body else's ribs. I
shall not allude to the annoyance of having the little private




THE CUSTOM-HOUSE.                 69
stores of the passengers subjected to the most scrutinizing
inspection. I shall not attempt to describe the provoking
deliberation of these impertinent underlings in counting
segars; nor the prying curiosity with which they peeped
into pots of preserved ginger, and slyly tasted cans of
pickled oysters. I shall pass over their manner of turning
over and suspiciously snuffing a Bologna sausage, as if
apprehensive of its being some infernal machine on a complicated plan, expressly imported for the destruction of the
Queen. I shall not dilate upon the minuteness with which
they scrutinized soiled linen, and their persevering manner
of rummaging through old boots. I shall not even indulge
in the solace of a caricature of our chief tormentor, a roundbellied gentleman in black, with more flesh and pomposity
than even Englishmen are ordinarily encumbered with.  He
was very evidently above his business, and was too fat, or
too blind, or too ostentatious, or perhaps all three: to read
the list of passengers with that fluency desirable to impatient people. But he insisted that every thing should be conducted with formal solemnity, that was positively outrageous.
Even after the tedious process of a minute examination had
been passed by one happy man, he delayed the rest by clumsily fumbling for the ribbon from which dangled his glass:
then he was a long time adjusting his glass to one eye, and
a still longer time shutting the other, before he could begin
to spell over the entire list till he came to the name below
the last. Then it would have puzzled the Delphic Oracle
to divine whom he meant when he did call out a name, his
sight was so bad or his pronunciation so horrible. All this
I shall glide over in comparative silence, but there is one
little incident I must beg leave to mention.
I had provided myself with a good many books, to amuse
me during the voyage, but being aware that American reprints of English works were confiscated, I had purposely




70                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
avoided them. I supposed of course that English books,
with London and my own name staring them  in the face
from the title-page, would pass unmolested. The books,
besides having my name written in them, had been too evidently read for them to suspect me of an unlawful attempt
to peddle books without a license. But they emptied my
trunk and carpet bag, and proceeded to weigh the whole lot
as a means of ascertaining their value and determining the
amount of duty due on them. An admirable criterion of
the English estimate of literature at the present day. I
had eight pounds of books, and paid four shillings, which
justifies me in concluding that the retail price of knowledge
in England is sixpence a pound; somewhat cheaper than
damaged herrings. To tax books at all which were evidently intended for personal amusement or instruction was barbarous, in the most extended sense of the term; but the
manner of ascertaining their value struck me as being peculiarly English. They were piled into a large pair of scales,
and weighed as we do live hogs in the West. What degradation to some of the mightiest names that England has
produced. But pet copies of Shakspeare and Byron only
differed in their eyes from a keg of lard in not being so heavy,
and consequently less valuable.
I have an abiding conviction, that the statesman who introduced the law upon tbe introduction of books, was an admiring reader of Knickerbocker; Walter the  Doubter
must have been his highest judicial authority. His statute
bears a startling resemblance to the only decision of that
famous Dutch Lawgiver, when he commanded the' ledgers
of two litigating grocers to be weighed and gave judgment
in favor of him whose ledger was heaviest. Their estimate
of justice and knowledge were equally extended, and equally
worthy of this most enlightened nation of the nineteenth
century.




RURAL SCENERY.                  71
CHAPTER IV.
RURAL SCENERY.
THIS England-the country I mean-the fields, the trees,
and the hedges, is truly very, very beautiful. Pleasing
at all seasons from its tidy evidences of superior cultivation,
it becomes enchanting when seen, as I lately saw it, whilst
every leaf and spear of grass shone with the glistening
freshness of early spring. I positively believe I should feel
enthusiastically in love with the country, if I could for one
little half hour forget the nation. But being unfortunately
situated like Yankee Doodle, when he complained that: he
could not see the town for the houses," I can never admire
the country, without being reminded of the people.
The pastoral scenery of England is peculiar, possessing
all the polish of art in its highest perfection, without its primness. Soft and shining as a long summer's day, the fullblown charms of the island droop under their fairy loads of
poetry and loveliness. Well may it be named the Eden
of the universe, but its inhabitants with equal justice may
be denominated the "fallen " of creation. The beauties of
England being those of a dream, should be as fleeting. To
a man whose blood needs no champagne to hurry its coursing, with a fancy as swift as the steam that hurls him along,
they never appear so charming as when dashing on after a
locomotive at forty miles an hour. Nothing by the way requires study, or demands meditation, and though objects imme



72                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
diately at hand seem tearing wildly by, yet the distant fields
and scattered trees, are not so bent on eluding observation,
but dwell long enough in the eye to leave their undying impression. Every thing is so quiet, so fresh, so full of home, and
destitute of prominent objects to detain the eye, or distract
the attention- from the charms of the enchanting whole, that I
love to dream through these placid beauties, whilst sailing in
the air, quick, as if astride a tornado. All things then assume the delicious indistinctness of some bright vision,
during an after-dinner doze in an arm-chair. Nothing then
appears so palpable as to break the hazy drowsiness of the
scene, by its too substantial reality.
Thick-headed tourists, who have no poetry in their souls,
may sneer at the idea of enjoying the rural scenery of England from the window of a railroad car. Such mathematical
individuals would fain take the dimensions of each fairy landscape, as a mason would measure the proportions of a brick
wall.  But give me the velocity, the exhilaration, and the
panting breezes of the cars; let me enjoy the shadowy
charms and softly-creeping fascinations of an English landscape, seen from their windows. There is wild delight in
the consciousness of such motion. There is intense excitement in this shadowless velocity.  There is glorious independence in the power of bounding to a place, swiftly almost as the conception of the wish to be there. What
could be more intoxicating than this tumultuous throb of mingled emotions, felt in this panorama of green fields and flowers, gliding fleetly and softly as the fancies of the opium eater?
" Will you make an excursion with me from Liverpool
up to London? Be quick; whilst you hesitate we may both
be left. The express train starts at the minute, without
delaying for loitering passengers.  You will go?  Very
well; here you are."  We are off; already grinding through
" utter darkness," where there is no;" gnashing of teeth,"




RURAL SCENERY.                  73
but a fearful clash of wheels: we are in the tunnel. Suddenly we shoot into open air like a sunbeam piercing a fog,
and the boundless beauty of the landscape breaks at once
upon us. Liverpool is already a mile behind. Far as the
eye can reach, on every side, it is greeted with the same
lovely view. We rush through a succession of fresh green
fields and greener hedges; of villages embowered in fruit
trees, with the tapering spires of country churches modestly
overlooking them; of bustling market towns, and smoky
manufacturing cities, which do not interrupt the character of
the scenery, but serve pleasingly to dot the vast expanse of
shining verdure. The fresh-springing crops of grain trembled to the lazy breezes, and sometimes seemed to wave for
very gracefulness, when there was no breath to stir them.
The scene appeared a wanton waste of loveliness.  I could
not reconcile myself to the thought that these beauteous
meadows, so thickly strewn with flowers that one might
imagine them an emerald copy of the starry heavens, were
only kept to graze beef cattle.  It could not be, that these
hedges; trimmed with such exquisite taste, were only intended
as ordinary barriers against erratic horses, and trespassing
sheep. Every thing was too, too beautiful for this! But
just when the eyes reeled, and sense grew drunk, and I was
dreaming of the frolics of Puck, and the fairy reign of
Titania, plump we came upon a brick-yard, with its prim
rows fresh from the moulds, and its pyramidal kilns smoking away, to remind me that this delicious land of verdure
and flowers, was not only inhabited by the English, but that
they were commonplace enough to shut themselves up in
brick walls from all this loveliness. And then, in spite of
myself; came gloomy pictures of English ogres in Elysian
gardens, flitting across my mind, like the passing shadows of
clouds over some sunny landscape. But these unwelcome
thoughts are dispelled by the sight of a lowly thatched cot,
4




'74                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
with a rosy-faced baby hurrying on all fours to the front
door, as its chubby little brothers and sisters climb the
wicket gate to greet us with their tiny cheers, as we flit gayly
by. A blossoming clover field fills the whole atmosphere, as
we pass, with its deliciously refreshing odor. And look at
those beans, wagging as knowingly their flowery heads, and
giving birth to as much poetry and perfume, as if they had
not been planted there for horse-feed. Every thing was enchanting except the sky, and that was cold and gray enough.
But what of that?  It is only the background to an exquisite picture, and nobody ever dreams of regarding it.
Now we rattle through a bustling market town, with its
little alehouses, and staring squads of idlers. An ambitious
village cur darts furiously out, and vainly tries with us his
speed, snapping and yelping as if to frighten our spirited
steam-courser.  We swiftly pass fields, ready prepared for
late crops, so perfectly ploughed and harrowed that they
look like huge pieces of brown satin stretched upon the
green. See, winding through those lovely meadows, that
deep, narrow stream of clearest water, brimming its banks
of living verdure, and so placid it scarcely stirs the long
moss floating on its edges. No trees fringe its banks; it
steals before us with its nude beauties unveiled. In its
gentle course it makes a thousand picturesque bends, and
wanders about as if seeking to lose itself in these grassy
plains. It has no hurrying occupation; no mills to turn, no
roaring rivers to feed. It is but an elegant idler in this
delightful champaign country.  And as it loiters lazily
along, it dreams of no more arduous task, than lending new
beauties to my Lord's beautiful estate. I am sorry that last
idea occurred to me-for my thoughts made a sudden transition to the worthlessness of all lackeys to the rich and great;
the lazy-footmen, dozing butlers, insolent grooms, and, I was
going to say, placid streams-but I stopped. For there was




RURAL SCENERY.                  75
a rustic bridge, so rude, so crazy, and so picturesque, it
must have been thrown across the stream merely to prevent
the possibility of the scene's sinking into too much softness.
Nobody would ever dream of crossing on it-it seemed only
put there to look at, and it may be to interrupt disagreeable
trains of thought. A flock of noisy rooks mount high into
air, wheeling and cawing around us as if to speed us on our
way. A large herd of fine short-horned cattle are browsing
in social little knots, and look up and gaze stupidly after us
as we roll smoothly by. The whistle sounds: we are approaching some station.  Gradually we lessen our speed, and
finally stop. The " company's servants," in coarse liveries of
black velveteen, with the initials of the particular railroad,
and their numbers, marked in white cloth on their collars,
rapidly move from car to car, unlocking them, and loudly
announcing the name of the station, and its various connections.  There is much slamming of doors as people get out,
because they have arrived at their journey's end, or merely
to stretch their legs. The low hum of the passengers and
porters, hurriedly searching for baggage, is mingled with the
shrill cries of news-boys, running up and down the platform
along the train, with this morning's papers from London.
Then comes the warning bell; and then the final order of
the conductor. Then there is again great slamming of doors,
which are all relocked-the whistle sounds, and off we
bound after two minutes' delay in our flying journey.
We rush through a labyrinth of cottages and gardens,
full of comfort and cabbages, with their trim hedges appropriately adorned with blue smockfrocks and wet breeches
hung out to dry. A large flock of newly-sheared Southdown
sheep are quietly grazingijn the neighboring field, but, on
our approach, hurriedly scamper off with much shaking of
short tails and ringing of sheep-bells.  Is it not beautiful?
that deep brawling brook with its lofty banks, wild, broken,




76                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
and picturesque, spanned by a single arch of stone, crumbling and moss-grown, through which it foams; it rushes
madly into a wooded glen, where it is wholly lost to view,
and when again it gladdens the eye, it is warring bravely
with the green slimy wheel of a mill-a hoary patriarch,
that may have. ground flour for Cromwell's troopers. The
country beautifully undulating, as if under the agitating
influence of its own surpassing charms, now rises into gentle
slopes, now runs into wavy irregularities, then sinks into
unbroken level.  It seemed that some tasteful hand had
been at work in its arrangement, to produce the happiest
display of its wooded hills and green walled vales. The
variety, in size and shape, of these hedge-bound fields is
endless.  Shady trees, scattered through them  all, break
into ever-varying effects the vast sheet of shining green.
Considerable tracts of woodland meet the eye at every turn;
their changing foliage clustering under the magical effects
of light and shadow to lend some new fascination to the
scene. And when nature did start into abrupter eminences,
its savage features were always masked in the russet and
gold of flowering broom piled up in undisturbed luxuriance.
The hedges on each side the road looked, as we flew along,
like two green coursers, of goblin shape, racing furiously
with each other; and the daisies and batchelor-buttons in
the fields beyond seemed to our swimming eyes to grow into
many-tinted ribbons forcibly blown from the mouth of some
modern magician. But, in the distance, the scene was a
floating sea of loveliness. What a stately mansion is that!
looking out from its shady clump of fine old oaks. See that
merry little rivulet, skipping along its pebbly bed, with its
narrow banks thickly lined with old willows, which have
been so hewed and hacked for thev pliant shoots, that their
gnarled and knotted trunks resemble the venerable olives in
the garden of Gethsemane. The ditch of that sunk fence is




RURAL SCENERY.                  77
arbored o'er with blossoming briers and wild creepers.
The hedge is no longer a close-built wall of verdure, but it
is broken into sweet irregularities by the masses of wild
plum and hawthorn in bloom-their snowy flowers beautifully contrasting with the dark, brilliant green of the hedge;
and there is a noble old castle, with its Gothic battlements
and swelling towers, seemingly based upon a huge mound of
leaves, so thickly wooded are the sides of the hill on which
it stands. What a pity that all this beauty is created by
the aristocracy, even as the pearl hidden in the shell of the
oyster is the result of disease.
In contrast with these princely mansions we roll glibly
by a modest cottage, with its gable-end hung with a dark
mantle of ivy, and its door half-curtained with clambering
roses and honey-suckles.  On its window-sills are ranged
modest pots of heliotrope, and mignonette, breathing their
sweet odors upon the happy inmates of the lowly cot. In
the little yard of grassplots and flowers a stately cock convoys his numerous hens, which are busily scratching and
pecking for worms, regardless of his proffered gallantries.
Chanticleer glories in his charge, and loudly crows as he
flaps his burnished wings of gold. But courageous as he
seems, he lowers his proud crest and utters his cackling note
of alarm as we whiz swiftly by. In the stable-yard stands
an old white horse, freckled with age, munching his oats beside a rough Shetland pony. Snugly reposing under the
shed was the red milch cow, chewing the cud as she dozed
unmindful of our momentary presence. A large peacock,
with the gorgeous glories.of his tail spread to their utmost,
strutted stiffly along in solitary grandeur, the gaudy monarch
of birds.  On the roof-~  ped'y-rick, a whole flock of
pigeons were dozing in we, with their heads tucked comfortably under their wings, and the noisy Guinea fowls
shrieked wildly below. What a snug picture of home corm



718                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
forts to excite all the enthusiasm of romantic young advocates of " love in a village!"  It only required Cupid peeping out of the kitchen window in a white apron, with a napkin tucked about his neck, and a piece of dough in his hand,
to complete this ideal paradise of dumplings and devotion.
More sweet fields and sweeter hedges.  A solitary horse,
carelessly nipping the short juicy grass, looks up as we smoke
and puff towards him-gazes for an instant with bowed neck
and raised tail, and then snorting loudly, bounds off, his
head half-turned in proud defiance as he gallops slowly
away.  On a bare eminence a lonely windmill twirls its
gigantic arms in creaking agony. How distinctly we can
trace the course of that stream through these delicious meadows by the clustering trees that grow along its margin, and
hang so tenderly over it with their long drooping boughs, as
entirely to conceal the water from the light; and then when
it does gleam forth for an instant from its leafy covert into
sunshine, it flashes like some rich vein of quicksilver issuing
from its rugged native mine. A frightened hare, startled
from her grassy form by our steaming uproar, bounds forth,
and with her long ears resting upon her back fleetly scours
the plain.
And soon there came on a mist. It was no fog, —no drizzle; but thin, shadowy and almost impalpable, it floated
between us and the beauteous landscape, lending a softened,
but intenser interest to the scene. And then it commenced
to rain. At first it was only a few big drops, that rattled
through the leaves, and pelted the tops of the cars. And
then it poured in right good ear:tht beating down the agitated foliage of the waving bo:Sai:;rudely pattering
upon the glassy surface Wthe     did- SU: The cattle
sought shelter under the neare   es, the' horses drooped,
and the sheep huddled close together, with their uosesa'stuck
close to the ground to avoid the raging storm. The whole




RURAL SCENERY.                  79
scene becoming very dismal, and very English, I put up the
window and soon fell asleep, to dream of the wild forests on
the banks of the Mississippi. The whistle startled me, and
I looked out upon that huge tinkery of iron pots-hammering
Birmingham-where all the world come to buy their soupladles. The scattering forest of gaunt, spectral furnacechimneys, that, Babel-like, kissed the clouds, were all puffing furiously away, as if each one was bent on doing its best
to smoke the gloomy piles of dingy houses as black as smoke
could make them.  Here we had ten minutes for ennui and
refreshments. People stretched their legs, and some took
sandwiches, and others a glass of porter, and after the ten
minutes had appeared half an hour, compared with the excitement of the former portion of the journey, the whistle
sounded, and off we rattled once more.
The sun came out from shelter, and with him the cows.
The horses once more took to grazing, and gradually the
sheep scattered over the fields, and the frolicksome lambs
frisked round them as if in playful derision of their damp,
close-sheared skins.  What a pity that these woolly innocents should ever go up to Smithfield, to be made mutton of.
The sun shone, or rather did its best to shine brightly, but
it was not that fierce, glaring sunshine that appears eager to
drink up at once all the moisture that the pitying heavens
had shed upon the earth beneath. There was nothing dazzling, nothing parching about it. It was the mellowed,
luxurious light of a shaded lamp-a fit illumination for enchanted bowers and submarine grots; it was just the sort
of light, in fact, that a fairy or a mermaid would have
revelled in, or a romantic traveller would have chosen to see
the softly beautiff:ul     of England by.  The tender
crops werifli i   into speechless happiness by the
refreshing shower. Arevery thing looked up and smiled,
except the poorbeans, which drooped their heavily wreathed




80                  ENGLISII ITEMS.
beads, weighed down by the glittering moisture. *The blithe
lark soars high above us. singing as he dries his fluttering
wings in the stray. sunbeams. And here and there a dripping sparrow hops merrily forth from his protecting hedge,
chirping as gayly as if it had never been known to rain in
England. All things seemed softer, sweeter, and fresher
than before. We rush swiftly by a flourishing field of hops,
the creeping plants stuck with straight, branchless hooppoles, fiercely bristling in their formal rows, like the hundred
thousand bayonets of the Champ de Mlars on review day.
We plunge into another tunnel. Amidst the weighty darkness, and the sulphureous smell. from the furnace,-the stunning roar of the wheels, and the terrific yells of the locomotive whistle,-one might imagine himself in the depths of a
certain brimstone pit, with a whole squadron of devil's ifips
careering madly through it.
"I'll not march through Coventry with them, that's flat."
So said I to myself of my English fellow-passengers, who
had already discovered ways of rendering themselves disagreeable before arriving at that ancient city. But unfortunately for me, I was not captain, as the fat Knight was,
and so the whistle sounded and off we all rumbled together,
furious as so many cats shaken up in a bag.  An Englishman is decidedly a muffin, not only in his puffy appearance,
but in his quiet endurance of an oven-height temperature.
He rather enjoys being gently baked, and shuns draughts of
fresh air as he does beggars. If it were his fortune to take
a siesta under the equator, he would tenderly insert his head
in a woollen nightcap, as a proper precaution against the
possibility of getting cold in the head, of which, after indigestion, he lives most in, dread    leaving Birmingham,
we had so changed our directiof   o turn thAr faces towards the iron horse, and thereby to give them the control
over the windows which we had previously enjoyed. The




RURAL. SCENERY.                 81
lively lick at which we moved created an invigorating breeze.
An Englishman would have been false to his nature had he
quietly exposed himself to such a draught; so each flushed
gentleman, with determined composure, proceeded to put up
a window, and put on his nightcap, and after wrapping himself up in his India-rubber overcoat, he snugly composed
himself to sleep.. Stifling hot became the car; our condensed breath ran down the glass in streams, and yet they
snoozed on, toasting as comfortably as fellow-muffins, waiting
their turn to go into breakfast. Through the combined assistance of his odoriferous overcoat and the sweltering heat,
each dozing Englishman soon succeeded in making a scentbag of himself, which, if crows had noses, would prove invaluable in a corn-field afflicted with those destructive birds.
Was it not suffocating? provoking? And then to hear
them snore too! It was positively frightful. What social
punishment could be deemed too severe to be inflicted on
any civilized Christian, who would get into a confined atmosphere in an India-rubber coat?
We dash through more fields and hedges; and there,
half-hidden irr the deepest shadow, is the picturesque porter's
lodge, opening upon the long broad avenue of drooping elms,
which leads to some aristocratic dwelling.  These venerable
elms may be considered the livitg sign-posts to aristocracy;
and really if this aristocracy in its action on men resembled
its influence on nature, it would be an uncommonly pretty
thing to look at. I have since this railroad trip often trotted
in a dog-cart along the shady lanes and retired roads of England, pausing by the way to wonder at and admire the exceeding loveliness of many a mansion of aristocracy.  A man
must see in order to appreciate these secluded hiding-places
of wealth. The taste, hlcare and ingenuity displayed in
the style of architecture of the houses, and in the keeping
of the grounds and parks, surpasses'the most exaggerated
4*




82                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
fancies of an imaginative mind. But, alas! the careful
culture of trees and cattle, as ministers to its luxury, monopolizes all the attention of the aristocracy, whilst thousands
of operatives in mines and manufactories, and paupers in
cities, are left to starve in ignorance and vice. Trees are
pruned, watered and manured, and the unceasing care of
countless laborers Is devoted to them. The sleek horses and
bullocks are considerately blanketed; due regard is had to
the air, light and cleanliness of their stables, and every attention is paid to the quantity and quality of their food.
But millions of human beings are left by their noble landlords to rot in those dens of 1"graduated starvation "-the
workhouses,-or else to eke out an existence of protracted
wretchedness in stifling coalpits, and suffocating factories, or
to die unheard of in the cheerless garrets and loathsome
cellars of the large cities of the kingdom. The horses and
bullocks the aristocracy intend to ride and eat, and they
are. for that reason, no scanty recipients of affectionate
attentions. But the other class, God having seen fit to forbid by their peculiar conformation, their being subjected to
either one of the above-mentioned uses, can hope for no
place in the sympathies of their niore fortunate fellow-men.
The aristocracy then being unable either to ride or to eat
them, innocently wonder what on earth they were made for,
and so leave them to starve or be miraculously fed by the
ravens as may happen.  When it is remembered that in the
park alone of Chatsworth there are 1600 acres, and that all
the four hundred titles, and a vast number of ambitious
commoners, own one or more seats with extensive parks
attached; some idea may be formed of the immense tracts
of the finest land kept idle to buster up the proud supre.macy of these wealthy sluggards, which, if brought into cultivation, would assist in feeding the starving millions of
London and the mining and manufacturing distric4s.




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.            83
CHAPTER V.
ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.
A FEW meek, submissive, anglicized Americans are nervously anxious to convince England, and America, that
the deepest, most abiding affection subsists between them.
They most assiduously labor to prove by facts, and figures,
that certain prejudiced travellers, and narrow-minded journalists, do but waste ink in their efforts to disturb the harmony of two nations, allied in origin, and bound by common
ties. They blandly assure England, that Amn:erica still
bases her national pride upon the triumphs of 1" the mother
country."  They  confidently assert, that the  American
people, proud of their English descent, still insist upon sharing with Great Britain the glories of their common ancestors. They cajole Americans with the soft assurance, that
England regards their progress with that sort of interest
which the parental heart can only feel; they protest that
she is proud of her offspring; and that she glories in their
success at home and abroad, as new evidence of the invincibility of the Anglo-Saxon race. They hope, by judiciously
tickling the vanity of Johnny Bull, to restrain him from the
commission of excesses, to which even Americans would fair
to submit. And by dinging into our ears the familiar whine
of "the mother country,": "our common ancestors," and the
glory of being descended from a people "who can claim
Shakspeare and Milton as countrymen," they hope to recon



84                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
cile Americans to the degradation of a tutelage which must
prove a stain on our national clharacter.  They would fain
convince us that we must be servile, in order to be proud;
they insult our understanding, by attempting to convince
us, that we could maintain our honor at the sacrifice of our
independence.,
According to the convenient doctrine of these complying
sycophants, gratitude for the honor conferred on us by our
English relationship, should make us forgive any offence,
and submit to any imposition England may be pleased to
inflict. We are considerately warned of the danger of
offending our.parent; her insults must be treated as badinage; her hostility deemed all a joke. If we should resent
her outrages, she may declare us to be no longer. her heirs;
if we excite her ire, she might cut us off from the rich
inheritance of her glory. Though her good will could prove
valuable, and America could learn to humbly sue.'for her
favors, ought our interest to make-us forget that forgiveness
may cease to be magnanimous, and that forbearance, may,
after a while, sink into pusillanimity? But " to crook the
pregnant hinges of the knee, when thrift may follow fawning,"
is something that America has yet to learn. On our own
strength, and not on England's favor, we rely for success.
We renounce all claim to England's glory, by succession.
We scorn to be honored as the reputed descendants even
of Great Britain. As American citizens we present to the
world our claims to respect; as American citizens we are
ready to maintain them. That solitary relic of England's
absurdities, that honor could be derived from ancestors, has
never been received with favor in our land. Our theory and
our practice have ever been, that "true nobility looks to
the future, not to the past."  If we wear any of England's laurels, we have won them, not borrowed them. And
if we are proud of being Americans, it is not because we




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.            85
may' as descendants of Englishmen share their national pride,
but because as foemen, in equal fight, we have humbled it.'Tis most true that Britain's triumphs are our glory. But
we have appropriated, as she gained them, on the ocean and
in the field.
It is our interest, as it has ever been our pleasure, to do
justice to England's greatness. In acknowledging her reputation we establish our own. Prowess in the vanquished is
the proudest tribute to the victor. She has hitherto been
supreme; but her ambition overleaps itself; her pre-eminence
is likely to prove her ruin. She so long stood alone among
nations, that she can but ill brook the presence of a rival,
more especially when that rival appears in a nation whom
she has struggled to think of with scorn and treat with derision..In order to convince the world and themselves of
the sincerity of their disdain, Englishmen have resorted to
the vilest slander and abuse.  They indulge their native
malevolence in every species of injustice, in every form of
attack. There is no crime too flagrant, no outrage too
glaring, for Americans to be accused of. But their own
fury blinds them. They forget that malignity cannot be
mistaken for indifference; that rancor can never be construed into contempt. The bitter pleasure they derive from
assailing America, shows that they fear as well as hate her.
The very pains they take to convince the world that we are
unworthy of all consideration, proves of how much more importance we are in their eyes than they would have it supposed. Such intense hatred lives not without a cause; indifference on any subject produces silence; and if we were
so despicable as they pretend to believe, we should much
less frequently be the theme of their invective. But it is
the privilege of helpless malice to rail, and England too well
deserves the right not to be allowed to enjoy it. If, in
abusing us, she finds relief from the choking accumulation




86                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
of her spleen, I can say from my heart let her rail on. Her
satire has hitherto proved more harmless, if possible, to
America than her arms. Her assaults, of both kinds, have
always redounded as much to our honor as her own confusion. But I would have her spite ascribed to its real motive; I should like to see her attacks received in the proper
spirit. What could be more humiliating than to behold
her "lily-livered" partisans, whilst wincing under her
savage calumnies, vainly attempting a grinning approval of
their wit? What could be more disgusting than to observe
those Anglicised Americans, whilst cowering beneath the
fierceness of her rebuke, meanly acknowledging the justice
of it?.I would not have my countrymen forget the fact,
that her malice arises from envy, and that jealousy sustains
her bitterness.  I would have them  amused by what is
worthy of being laughed at, at the same time that I would
have them despise the vituperation, which has nothing but
its Billingsgate coarseness to distinguish it. I can always
laugh at a really good thing, even when perpetrated at my
own expense; I could enjoy even English sarcasm could it
ever fail to sink into scurrility.
It would be cruel to restrain England in her propensity
to vilify us, when she displays such remarkable fluency in
a slanderous style of speech. When the ability to calumniate is the only power which has survived the gradual encroachment of bowels upon intellect in Great Britain, it
would be a pity to rob the English even of this miserable
evidence of mind. When vituperation is the solitary approach they are capable of making to any quality which
belongs to eloquence, it would be excessive enmity not to
leave them to its indulgence. I should be as reluctant to
deprive them of the free exercise of their undoubted talent
for abuse, as I would be to curry favor with them by subms.3ion.  But I should like to reserve the privilege of




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.            87
receiving and replying to their invectives, without regarding
the flunky dictation of some few Americans, who have shown
themselves unworthy of the name. I have no desire to curtail, in the least degree, the ample range of England's vile
imagination; but I do not relish being insulted, by being
told that she basely slanders because she tenderly loves us.
Mutual enmity is the only feeling which can ever be
maintained with sincerity between the two nations; and
there is something much more attractive, to me, in the frankness of declared hostility, than the empty professions of a
truce which neither pretends to respect. We must be foes;
but let us be courteous foes. All that we demand of Englishmen is, that there shall be " a fair fight" and " no hitting
under the belt." We expect no gentle consideration for our
inexperience on their part; but, on entering " the ring," we
defy them to do their worst. We have nothing to fear in
this contest. A brave foe, though vanquished, commands
the admiration of his adversary.'Tis true America is young,
and not much skilled in " the science of fistiana;" but though.
we may be conquered after some " hard fought rounds," yet
we will much more certainly secure England's respect than
we could purchase her forbearance by " going down " without
a single blow. But if we will "hit out" vigorously, there
is no certainty that the issue of the battle will be against
us. Englishmen, though strong, and much practised in the
cunning tricks of "the ring," present so many assailable
points, that our victory is certain if our determination prove
valiant.  Let them  thoroughly understand "the articles of
the fight; " that the contest may hereafter be conducted with
the punctilious propriety of "an affair of honor," not the
low indecency of a brothel brawl.
We are assured that England regards us with a most
parental affection; we are informed that she is proud of
her offspring. She has, indeed, been most touchingly afice



88                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
tionate. From the 13th May, 1607, to the 20th December,
1852, her solicitous attentions have been unceasing.  From
the time of Captain Christopher Newport's landing his fleet
of three ships, with the 105 settlers of Jamestown, to the
date of our present glorious Republic of thirty-one States,
the marks of her sincere regard have been too unmistakable
for even " the most prejudiced and narrow-minded of Americans" to deny them. IIer devotion has truly been very
extraordinary. Nature affords but a single parallel of her
maternal affection. She gloats over us with that sort of
appetizing tenderness, which might be supposed to have animated a sow "that hath eaten her nine farrow."  We are
probably indebted to our strength and numbers for not
having been subjected to the same practical illustration of
her extreme devotion enjoyed by the pigs. Twenty millions
of hardy freemen would prove a troublesome meal, even for
ogreish England.
But England regards our, progress with parental exultation. That she does watch our advancing strides with the
deepest interest, I am most ready to admit. But hers is a
keener anxiety than: ever animates even a parent's breast.
It is the feverish, all-absorbing interest of an apprehensive
rival, whose soul is racked by mingled hate and fear. If
she pretends to glory in our success, as her kindred of the
Anglo-Saxon race, she has been rather too tardy in discovering the tie of relationship, to make its acknowledgment at
all flattering now.":-The truth is, that even her purblind
jealousy at'last permits her to feel that some honor might
arise from claiming us as of her own family, and she has
become wondrously proud of a connection.that she has been
something less than a hundred years in finding out. In
defiance of her persecutions, wars, and slanders, we hav(
assumed such a position, that even she might derive conse
quence from patronizing us.;But she strangely mistake.




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA             89
our relations, when she supposes that the American people
would submit to being treated as inferiors. Having shown
ourselves her equals in peace, and her superiors in war, we
must respectfully decline her patronage, as we have steadily
defied her malice. The hope that she could flatter us into
bolstering up her tottering empire is eminently worthy of
her selfishness, but does not reflect much credit on her judgment. She gave us no assistance in our rise; she must expect none from us in her decline. She must not hope-she
must not hope, by playfully claiming us as her " American
kinsfolk," that the reflection of our rising glory will illumine her waning power. We disclaim  all sympathy with
people who can only remember that they are related to us,
when it becomes their interest to do so.  We should have
despised them less had they continued to assail us as enemies, instead of making pusillanimous professions of friendship it is impossible for them to feel. The favors we have
received from England will not be troublesome to return.
We may be as slow to extend as we have been to receive
friendly greetings.
But then-we have C"common ancestors."  We spring
from the same origin, and speak the same language,'tis
true. But all this only serves to widen the gulf between
us. Common enmity is mild compared with the hatred
which springs from friendship outraged and confidence
abused. Neglected duties and broken ties do but increase
the bitterness of those who have once been united. Like
objects negatively electrified, England and America fly farther
asunder, from having so closely adhered. The laws governing our sympathies are as unchangeable as those of electricity, and we now mutually repel, because we once mutually attracted each other. Position, the times, and fate
unite in making us rivals. It is impossible that we could
ever -be otherwise whilst England continues powerful, or




90                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
America free.  The two greatest nations on earth-the
occupants of different hemispheres, and the representatives
of antagonistic principles of government, necessity would
make us rivals in spite of the sincerest inclination to be
friends. It is but nktural that England should feel most
acutely this feeling of jealousy. The weaker rival ever
nurses the bitterest hate.  And England cannot escape
from the consciousness that her strength must wane as ours
grows, though she may attempt to deceive others by her
boasts and sneers. She already bears about her the evidences of o'er-ripe maturity, whilst every year must develope
some new power in America. Decay must soon begin in
England, and time, which will prove her ruin, will be our
friend. Her successful rivals, we have not time to pause
in our career to wonder if England cheers our progress.
We are not anxious, because we have nothing to fear. WVe
are less bitter, because we feel secure. - Our advance is too
rapid to give us time to watch England. We hate her with
much less intensity than she has honored us with, because
we feel no apprehension of her power. As she cannot obstruct our path, we naturally forget her presence. But we
must be eternally in her thoughts, because we are gradually
eclipsing her greatness. The spectre of some dreaded object haunts the apprehensive mind with much more constancy, than the loved one's image lives in a devoted heart.
England's distrust commenced at our birth, and has increased with our strength. The apprehension with which
she regarded us, seemed almost instinctive. Whilst we
were as yet a sickly settlement, feebly contending in the wilderness against savages and famine, she seemed oppressed
by the consciousness that there was danger to her in our success. With unnatural barbarity she turned from us, with
the vain hope that we must perish amidst the privations of
the desolate spot, in which our lot was cast. But the God




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.               91
of nations, who sent ravens to feed Elijah in the desert,
succored us. And from a handful of men, whose hopes
of existence were reduced to a few grains of corn, we have
been raised up into a powerful protector to the rest of the
world against the encroachments of the English system.
England's deadly enmity, originally shown in neglect, was afterwards manifested ini a series of persecutions, which finally drove us into open resistance. In her attempt to coerce
us by arms she lost her colonies, and we gained our independence. Her hatred, increased by the bitter mortification of
defeat, was not long in again bursting into unrestrained fury.
She resolved to cripple our growing commerce by exercising
the arrogated right of search.  Once more she struggled
to annihilate our power in war. Her baffled hate received
another terrible rebuke, and our brilliant success by sea and
land, which added a long list to our heroic names of the Revolution, first taught her to fear as much as she hated America. She no longer dared assail us openly, and her national
rivalry sunk into personal spite. Destitute of the power to
injure us as a nation, she condescended to assail individual
peculiarities, and by the ridicule of our manners by her
tourists, and attacks on our social and political institutions,
by her periodicals and daily press, she hoped to accomplish
by cavilling at us, what she had failed to do by her arms.
Her jealous disposition has been evident to all those familiar
with the newspaper literature of the country; but it is
so happily displayed in the following petty attack from
the London Times on the American contributions to the
world's fair, that I cannot resist the temptation to quote it.
It is a fair specimen of the tone of the London press generally:If the Americans do excite a smile, it is by their pretensions.
Whenever they come out of their own province of rugged utility, and
enter into competition with European elegance, they certainly do make




92                     ENGLISH ITEMS.
themselves ridiculous. Their furniture is grotesque; their carriages
and harness are gingerbread; their carpets are tawdry; their patchwork quilts surpass even the invariable ugliness of this fabric; their
cut glass is clumsy; their pianos sound of nothing but iron and-wood;
their bookbinding is that of a journeyman working on his own account
in an English market town; their daguerreotypes are the sternest and
gloomiest of all daguerreotypes; their printed calicoes are such as our
housemaids would not think it respectable to wear. Even their ingenuity, great as it is, beconies ridiculous when it attempts competition
with Europe. Double pianos, a combination of a piano and a violin, a
chair with a cigar-case in its back, and other mongrel constructions,
belong to a people that would be centaurs and mermen if they could,
and are always rebelling against the trammels of unity.
The displays of her mean disposition to detract from our
merits are not confined to the absurd scurrility of her newspapers or the stale slanders of her books. In her blustering course with regard to the McLeod difficulty, the Northwestern boundary, and the recent fishery question, her malevolence almost got the better of her prudence; she plainly
showed that she still possessed the will, though destitute of
the courage to attack us. England should be careful of
these outbursts of fury. She should remember, that, like
the bee, which in leaving its envenomed sting with its foe,
sickens and dies, the enraged rival may become the victim
of his own wiles. The means to which Great Britain resorts to overthrow America, may prove her own ruin.
It is true that a cowardly policy during the uncertainty
of the late dispute about the Newfoundland fisheries, dictated a great change of tone in the press of England since the
period when its head, the London Times, denounced America as a Republic of scoundrels, with a few honest men intermixed.   But their unconquerable aversion to America
embitters the soothing cup of flattery they commend to our
lips; and they lose the advantage of their attempt to conciliate, by allowing their miserable jealousy to shine through




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                93
their labored efforts at praise. The Times, about the period
when many thought the two countries might be involved in
war, contained this somewhat remarkable article, in which
it lauds our power and progress, but insinuates that we are
pirates and villains, who, regarding the laws neither of God
nor man, are yet destitute of the courage to avenge the murder of our citizens, which resulted from our unscrupulous
ambition. It is useless to comment on the subtle injustice
of the article.  It speaks for itself:
THE LEAP OF THE UNITED  STATES TO THE FIRST RANK OF
NATIONS-THE CONQUEST OF. CUBA.
[From the London Times of September 6, 1852.]
It has ever been the delight of historians and philosophers to trace
and work out an analogy between the peculiarities of climate and
scenery, and the character and- disposition of nations. There is something singularly wild and extreme in the physical phenomena of the
American continent. The mountains literally pierce the clouds, and
pour down from their snow-capped summits rivers that sweep their
uncontrollable course for thousands of miles, and bear with them, as
trophies of their might, trees of a girth and growth unknown to the
European observer. The seasons are as strongly marked. A summer of
raging and almost intolerable heat is succeeded by a winter of little less
than Arctic severity. All things there tend to represent the course of
nature as the result of a series of violent and uncontrollable impulses,
and to conceal those silent and unvarying laws which regulate alike
the fall of a drop of rain and the course of the mighty Father of
Waters.
There never probably was, since the beginning of the world, an
instance of such solid, sudden, and dazzling prosperity as has been
achieved within the last fifty years by the United States of America.
By peaceful industry and bold but well-weighed enterprise, they have
advanced to a degree of material well-being which, to those who only
know the world from books, must appear almost incredible. They
have but to persevere in the same course, and there is no limit to the
triumphs that lie before them. They have still a boundless territory
to occupy and improve, in the possession of which they are without a




94                      ENGLISH ITEMS,
neighbor, and a mission of civilization and consolidation to execute as
noble as ever devolved upon the sons of men. But the previous triumphs of their industry and their enterprise have been so rapid and
portentous that they would seem to have a tendency to turn aside the
nation from its steady onward course, and to enlist it in more brilliant
but far less certain schemes of aggrandizement. A nation of hardheaded traders and speculators, struggling day by day with praiseworthy perseverance and intensity for the possession of the " almighty
dollar," this people, so shrewd and calculating in its private transactions, becomes, when it touches on public affairs, wild and extravagant,
boundless in its aspirations and insatiable in its cupidity. It possesses
a will as uncontrollable as the powers of nature which surround it,
and spurns the control of law to which these mighty agencies so humbly
submit themselves.
There are at present two courses of policy open to the United
States-the policy of commerce and the policy of conquest. It is open
to them to throw down commercial restrictions, to stimulate the spirit
of traffic, to give up aspirations of military glory, and found a power
like that of their mother country, relying rather on arts than atms; or
they may substitute the military for the commercial spirit, seek to
establish within themselves a world of their own, and to enlarge a territory already too vast for unity, by the forcible annexation of lands too
weak to resist the onset of the mighty confederation. Never had a
people good or evil set so fairly before them, and never was the choice
more doubtful or momentous.
It is now just a year since the piratical expedition to Cuba, resulting
in the sanguinary execution of fifty American citizens and the ignominious death of the "unprincipled adventurer" by whom the descent
was planned. We had hoped that this severe lesson-a single reverse
amid so much prosperity and progress-would have taught the United
States the folly and wickedness of such unwarrantable enterprises, and
finally decided the balance in favor of the policy of justice and moderation. There is much reason to fear we are mistaken. A sort of
"guild" or " order" has been formed in the South, consisting, we suppose we must say, not of unprincipled adventurers, but of many of the
most "worthy and influential merchants, lawyers and politicians of the
country." The object is the extension of American influence over the
Western hemisphere and the islands of the Atlantic and Pacific. - The
first booty on which they have cast their eyes is Cuba, and from that
island they propese to sweep away every vestige of Spanish authority




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                   95
before two suns have risen and set on the invaders. "Enlightened
public opinion in the United States," it is said, will sanction this measure, seeing that there are many reasons why Americans require the possession of the island. In the first place, they wish to substitute for the
iron rule of Spain, the republican system of government; next, they
anticipate assistance from the discontented Creoles-a fallacious hope, if
we may judge by the experience of Lopez. Thirdly, they see in the
acquisition of this island a guarantee for the permanency of the institution of slavery. Fourthly, such a conquest would extend their commerce. Fifthly, the rich and luxurious covet this gem of the Antilles,
as an agreeable and accessible retreat from the severities of a NewYork winter, and long to exchange the frozen breezes of the North for
enchanting visions of orange trees and sherry cobblers. The sum and
substance of all these reasons is that, without pretending a shadow of
right to this possession of the crown of Spain, the Americans desire it,
and therefore will have it. Whatever the Americans can take belongs
to them, according to this new school of ethics; and come peace or
come war, they will not permit the intervention of any European
power between them and any friendly ally whom they are determined
to plunder.
It is no little question that is raised by these avowed intentionsnothing less than whether one of the first-rate powers of the world
shall declare itself exempt from the provisions of the law of nations —
shall deny the existence of any right except that of the stronger, and
claim to set no bounds to its aggressions, except the limits assigned by
its boundless cupidity and lust of dominion. Shall there arise in the
middle of the nineteenth century, a piratical State, bound by no laws,
recognizing no rights, and avowedly basing its policy on principles
which in the case of individuals this very same society would visit
with the penitentiary or the gibbet? There was a time when, intoxicated like the United States with its enormous prosperity, ancient
Athens aid down for itself the same rule of conduct, and boldly professed that while justice might regulate claims between equals, the
stronger had a right to impose every thing to which the weaker might
be compelled to submit. After a few years the vicissitudes of events
placed this arrogant State in the very position it had described, and
rendered it dependent on the contemptuous clemency of a conqueror
for that very existence to which, upon its own principles, it had lost all
right when it became unable to defend it. Suppose we were to apply
a similar reason to the island of Madeira. Nothing would be easier




96                     ENGLISH ITEMS.
than to take it from the feeble power to whom it belongs. It is not
too well governed by the Portuguese, it is a commanding commercial
position, and its climate is regarded as a specific for the national disease
of consumption. We have, therefore, many reasons to desire it. Why,
then, do we not make it our own? For two reasons, which our
American friends will do well to consider. We will not violate the
principles of eternal justice, tarnish the lustre of our arms, and disgrace
our character for fairness and moderation, by wresting his property from
our ally because he is unable to keep it. And if we wish to do this we
dare not. We dread the retribution which follows on such acts, and
have learnt that, sooner or later, the force of public opinion will put
down any power which claims to emancipate itself from the control of
conscience and the practice of justice. We commend these considerations in no unfriendly spirit to our friends across the Atlantic, and
trust that they will see, on calmer reflection, that in this case, as in all
others, their duty is identical with their interest, and that enlightened
public opinion in the States, instead of supporting "worthy and influential" men who form themselves into secret societies for the purposes
of piracy and buccaneering, will declare that such objects are unworthy, and that their promoters ought not to be influential.
But the ingenious gentlemen, alluded to in the commencement of this chapter, insist that the people of England
are devotedly attached to us, and pretend that the ribald
assaults so frequently made upon us through all the literary
channels of the country, are but the unheeded ravings of
rabid editors, and the frothy emanations of tourists' brains.
This absurd declaration requires no refutatioi among those
who have been in England, who have encountered Englishmen in travelling in the older continents, or who have
been much associated with them in our own; but those who
have been so fortunate as entirely to escape! the annoyance
of intercourse with them, need require no better evidence
of their hostility, than the tone of their books and newspapers. The peculiar opinions of any people may be best
judged of by the style of the books written for their amusement. It is the labor of every author so to adapt his style




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           97
and sentiments to the tastes of his readers, as most probably
to secure their approbation.  Whether he writes for fame
or money, selfishness prompts him to pursue this course; and
the opinions he advances will inevitably be colored by the
prejudices of the community in which he lives. The consciousness that his success is so wholly dependent on their apapproval will make him, without his being aware of it, adapt
his ideas to theirs, even whilst he imagines himself a bold
and independent writer. No book was ever yet written without
an expectation on the part of the author of its finding readers.'Tis ridiculous to suppose that any man -would submit to the
labor of book-making merely for the fun of composition.
The preface to a mediocre volume often declares the consciousness of the author, that the tenets of his work must prevent its ever being read. But the pains he takes to make
the announcement shows its absurdity. The preface which
contains the modest declaration betrays its insincerity. He
may pretend that he has resorted to writing to while away
leisure hours, or to alleviate mental suffering; and I can
very readily conceive of his wishing his lucubrations printed
for his own convenience, as a permanent record of his feelings at the time. But surely the preface is altogether superfluous, unless he hopes that other eyes than his own will
peruse his thoughts. And the man who unblushingly declares in one of those necessary attachments prefixed to every
printed volume, that he has written a book which he believes
nobody will read, convicts himself of something very like
lying.
Even authors, purely actuated by the higher impulses of
ambition, will in spite of themselves study the feelings of
their probable readers. How preposterous then is it to declare, that writers in a country like England, where every
thing is undertaken with the hope of gain, would crowd
their books with sentiments notoriously unpopular.  In
5




98                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
England an author's popularity is not estimated by the
number of editions issued, but by the price paid for his work
by the publisher.  He is not so much celebrated for the reputation he has established, as the money he has amassed.
He writes not for fame but gold.  And he endeavors not so
much to give utterance to sentiments which will give immortality to his name, as to express opinions which will secure the most favorable terms from his publishers. Nothing is better calculated to produce servility, than a base love
of gold. And so long as Englishmen continue to write for
money, they will not only studiously avoid shocking the
prejudices of their countrymen, but will take particular
pains to minister to them. Every prejudice is weighedevery passion consulted by these mercenary bookwrights,
in order, by inflaming them, to create a greater demand for
their works. They would be the last men in the world to
assail America, if they were not assured that scurrilous abuse
of that country was the most saleable commodity of their
trade.
The press may be justly considered the best thermometer
for ascertaining the true state of public opinion, on any subject, in any country, where even the forms of freedom are observed.  Editors, in addition to many other manifestations
of talent, evince an extraordinarily quick perception of the
inclinations of the majority, and generally manage to use
them to their advantage. It is a well-approved saying even
in America, where a greater independence of spirit and more
freedom animates the press than any country in the world,
that on all questions of taste or national utility, the press
follows public opinion so closely, as to appear to. direct it.
How much more applicable is this proverb to England, where
the acceptance of money for advocating any man Qr measure is not deemed a prostitution of the press.  If the universal scramble for gold which convulses the country, edit



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.            99
ors of periodicals and newspapers are not ashamed openly
to avow their ministering to the most bigoted prejudices,
and exciting the worst passions of the people, as a source of
profit to themselves.  That policy is advocated, that government praised, and those opinions encouraged which it
is supposed will pay best. And when this most sordid principle animates the social and political system of England,
Americans must not be surprised that Quarterlies-Monthlies, Weeklies and Daylies, should unite in heaping contumely on America, whilst the morbid tastes of Englishmen
continue to relish such abuse. As the stereotyped slang, in
which they habitually assail us, requires but a small investment of talent, and yields a very handsome profit, an attack
on America has become a favorite speculation with the pennya-liner tradesmen of Great Britain. It is a branch of the
business, in which the vilest scribblers may set up, as a large
stock in trade is not requisite to make an imposing show.
The basest tinsel appears gold, and the lowest Billingsgate
is thought to be gay trimming, when they adorn the doublet
of slanders, in which these catchpenny speculators in secondhand clothes attempt to array America.
When I can show that both tourists and editors indulge
in the coarsest invective against America, I think my readers will agree with me that Englishmen are not quite so ardent in their affection for America as some of our anglicized
countrymen would have us suppose. In presenting the following extracts, I have no expectation of informing my readers of what they have not for a long time been aware of. I
merely desire to refresh their memories as to the very many
outrageous things which have been said of us. Both as to
authors and quotations, I have been influenced by convenience; a sufficient number will be given, I hope, to convince
even those who may not be familiar with the style of English writers on America, that I have not been unjust in my




100                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
conclusions with regard to the sentiments of Englishmen
towards us.
Mr. Featherstonhaugh has well deserved the honor of
being placed in the front rank of those I shall mention, by
the freest indulgence of those euphonic epithets.bhich appear
most acceptable in the refined circles of England. From
Washington to New Orleans this highly tasteful gentleman
has adorned his crowning wreath of slanders with the choicest
flowers from  Billingsgate.   The F. R. S. ostentatiously
tacked to his name, might be. very naturally translated by
the ignorant into First Royal Scavenger, he appears so perfectly at home in the handling of filth. But though he has
so copiously bespattered us with his foul language, I am certain he has caused us no greater uneasiness than the annoyance we should feel in being defiled by any other dirt-cart
which happened to pass. But the distinguished gentleman
and scholar shall speak for himself. His opening sentence
is worthy of the author and his book.
Any one who has endured for many days the filth and discomfort
of that caravansary called Gadsby's Hotel at Washington, the city of
"magnificent distances," will feel exceedingly rejoiced when, after a
short interval of two or three hours, he finds himself transferred by
the railroad to Barnum's at Baltimore.
Hear him on the White Sulphur Springs of Virginia:
Language cannot do justice to the scenes we witnessed, and through
which we had to pass at the White Sulphur Springs. It must appear
incredible to those who have heard so much of the celebrity of this
watering-place, but who have never been here, to be told that this,
the most filthy, disorderly place in the United States, with less method
and cleanliness about it than belongs to the common jails of the country,
and where it is quite. impossible to be comfortable, should from year to
year be flocked to by great numbers of polite and well-bred people,
who have comfortable homes of their own, and who continue to remain




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.               101
amidst all this discomfort, which, from the nature of things, they know
is unchangeable. This requires some explanation.
As a specimen of the " polite and well-bred people," the
lucky Mr. Featherstonhaugh encountered at the " Springs,"
I beg leave to call the attention of my readers to the following conversation between three newly arrived gentlemen
from Virginia, Kentucky and Mississippi.  The citizens of
those States will, of course, recognize the accuracy with which
the learned author has given their respective dialects as existing in " polite and well-bred" circles:
One of them maintained that in "the hull woorld there was no
sich bacon as Virginia bacon." Another, who was a Kentuckian, felt
himself hurt by this observation, and put in an immediate rejoinder;
saying, "I allow the Virginians do flog all mankind at praising themselves, and their bacon might be pretty good, but it war'nt to be compared, no not for a beginning of a thing, to the bacon of the western
country, where the land was an almighty sight finer; produced better
corn, and, of course, made better hogs." The Virginian now became
nettled, and swore they had "more reel luxuries in old Virginia than
they had in the hull woorld," and asked the Kentuckian if they had
"oysters in Kentucky, and clams, and sich-like;" finishing with a
declaration that the finest land in the "hull woorld " was in Southampton County. These oysters silenced the Kentuckian, who, living
far in the interior, had never seen any; but a resident of the State of
"' fassasippi," who could not stand this boast of fine land, put it to
the Virginian whether they could grow sugar in Southampton County,
and added that he had "always heer'n that the hawysters of,NewOrleens had sich a onaccountable fine flavour, that they would knock
the hawysters of Old Virginny into their ninety-ninth year any day."
"I reckon they get that from the yellow fever," rejoined the Virginian.
He gives a truthful and graphic description of the style
of accommodation prevailing at the Springs:
The mattress was full of knots, and what was in the thing that was




102                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
intended to be my pillow I never ascertained; but a gentleman informed me that he and his wife having, after the usual vexatious delays,
got into some room resembling ours, as soon as they laid down for the
night, found their pillow not only very disagreeable from a sickening
odour that came from it, but gifted with some curious hard knobs in
it that were moveable. As it was out of the question to sleep upon it,
he threw it on one side, and had the curiosity to examine it in the
morning, when he discovered that they had not only bountifully put a
handful or two of dirty live feathers into it, but the necks, with the.heads to them, of two chickens and a duck. I have not the least doubt
of the truth of this, for the slaves who attend to such matters have
entirely their own way, and there is no one to examine their conduct.
The fossil gatherer is thrown into a helpless state of
wondering bewilderment by the " grand bolting operation."
The astonishment is truly incomprehensible which could
deprive an Englishman of his dinner:
]But who can describe the noise, the confusion incident to a grand
bolting operation, conducted by three hundred American performers,
and a hundred and fifty black slaves to help them   It seemed to me
that almost every man at table considered himself at job-work against
time, stuffing sausages and whatever else he could cram into his throat.
But the dinner-scene presented a spectacle still more extraordinary
than the breakfast. And, first, as to the cooking, which was after this
mode. Bacon, venison, beef, and mutton, were all boiled together in
the same vessel; then those pieces that were to represent roast meat
were taken out and put into an oven for awhile; after which a sort of
dirty gravy was poured from a huge pitcher indiscriminately upon
roast and boiled. What with this strange banquet, and the clinking
of knives and forks, the rattling of plates, the confused running about
of troops of dirty slaves, the numerous cries for this, that, and the
other, the exclamations of the new-comers, " Oh, my gracious  I reckon
I never did see sich a dirty table-cloth," the nasty appearance of the
incomprehensible dishes, the badness of the water brought from the
creek where the clothes were washed, and the universal feculence of
everything around, the scene was perfectly astounding. Twice I tried
to dine there, but it was impossible. I could do nothing but stare, and
before my wonder was over everything was gone, people and all, ex



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                 103
cept a few slow eaters. I never could become reconciled to the universal filth, as some told me they had got to be, and my wife would
literally.have got nothing to eat if I had not given a douceur to the
cook, and another to one of the black servants, to provide her every
day a small dish of fried venison or mutton, for which we waited until
it was placed before her; this, with very good bread-and it always
was good-was her only resource. Much squeezed as we were at first,
there was a sensible relaxation and more elbow-room in a very few
minutes, in consequence of the great numbers who had the talent of
bolting their " feed " in five minutes. A gentleman drew my attention
to one of these quick feeders, who had been timed by himself and
others, and who had been observed to bolt the most extraordinary
quantities of angular pieces of bacon, beef, and mutton, in the short
period of two minutes and a half. This was a strange, meagre, sallowlooking man, with black hair and white whiskers and beard, as if his
jaws had done more work than his brains. All the bolters went at it
just as quick feeders do in a kennel of hounds, helping themselves to
a whole dish without ceremony, cutting off immense long morsels, and
then presenting them with a dexterous turn of the tongue to the anxious cesophagus, would launch them down by the small end foremost,
with all the confidence that an alligator swallows a young nigger, into
that friendly asylum where roast and boiled, baked and stewed, pudding and pie, all that is good, and too often what is not very good,
meet for all sorts of noble and ignoble purposes. These quick feeders,
with scarce an exception, were gaunt, sallow, uncomely-looking persons, incapable of inspiring much interest out of their coffins, always
excepting, however, the performer with the white whiskers, whose
unrivalled talent in the present state of the drama, might, perhaps, be
turned to great account in some of the enlightened capitals of Europe.
Our fiiends in St. Louis have reason to feel indebted for
the subjoined glowing description of their principal hotel:
At the tavern where I lodged all was dirt, disorder, and want of
system. A pack of ragged young negroes performed the service of
chambermaids and waiters, and did it about as well as a pack of grown
monkeys, caught in the Brazils, would do in three months' teaching.
The landlord, who to me was always very obliging, seemed to have
no sort of authority either over his servants or his guests. These principally consisted of those impudent, smoking, spitting shopboys, who




104                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
are dignified in the United States with the appellation of "clerks." I
only occasionally dined there; but it was always the same thing. At
the ringing of a bell these "clerks" rushed in crowds to the table,
just as a pack of hounds or a drove of swine would to their feed. I
found it most prudent to wait a short time, for in eight minutes they
had gobbled everything up, and had again rushed out to take a glass
of swipes, a cigar, and go to their "stores." One of the intolerable
evils of practical equality is, the obliging clean people to herd with
dirty ones. The landlord, however, seeing my way of doing things,.used generally to send me something hot and comfortable to eat at my
leisure.
After allowing his mouth to water over the various " good "
things of the country, which were spoiled however in the
cooking, the rock-cracker indulges in a passing hit at American avarice:
The country, indeed, abounds with what is good, but the majority
of the people do not seem to care how they live, provided it does not
interfere with the grand exclusive object of their existence, making
money. Wherever I go-with the fewest exceptions-this is the allprevailing passion. The word money seems to stand as the iepresentative of the word "happiness" of other countries. In other lands
we see rank, distinction in society, scientific and literary acquirements,
with the other elevating objects that embellish and dignify human life,
pursued by great numbers with constancy and ardour; but here all
other avenues to advancement, except the golden one, seem nearly untrod-the shortest cut, coute qui coute, to that which leads to ready
money being the favourite one. Where this sordid passion stifles the
generous ones, a rapacious selfishness is sure to establish itself; men
cease to act for the general welfare, and society at length resolves itself into a community, the great object of every individual of which is
to grasp as much as will last as long as himself.
His description of the people of New Orleans is brief,
but complimentary:
The population partook strongly of the character of the latitude it
was in, a medley of Spaniards, Brazilians, West Indians, French Creoles,
and breeds of all these mixed up with the negro stock. I think I never




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                 105
met one person without a cigar in his mouth, and certainly, taking it
altogether, I never saw such a piratical-loqking population before.
Dark, swarthy, thin, whiskered, smoking, dirty, reckless-looking men;
and filthy, ragged, screaming negroes and mulattoes, crowded even
Rue de Chartres, where our lodgings were, and made it a very unpleasant quarter to be in. Notwithstanding it was Sunday, the market
was open, and there I saw green peas (January 1st), salads, bouquets
of roses, bananas from Havanna, and various good things that reminded
me I was in the 30th degree of N. lat.
He does not appear, however, to entertain a very exalted
opinion of the religious principles of the " Crescent City:"
It is evident that the future population of New Orleans is likely to
afford a rare specimen of the forms society can be made to take in a
semi-tropical climate, where the passions act unrestrainedly, and where
money is the established religion of the country.
He is singularly mild when he touches on my adopted
State of Arkansas:
This territory of Arkansas was on the confines of the United States
and of Mexico, and, as I had long known, was the occasional residence of
many timid and nervous persons, against whom the laws of these respective countries had a grudge. Gentlemen, who had taken the liberty to
imitate the signatures of other persons; bankrupts, who were not disposed to be plundered by their creditors; homicides, horse-stealers, and
gamblers, all admired Arkansas on account of the very gentle and
tolerant state of public opinion which prevailed there in regard to such
fundamental points as religion, morals and property. Here, flying
from a stormy world of chicane and trouble, they found repose from
the terrors it inspired, and looked back upon it somewhat as Dante's
storm-tossed mariner did upon the devouring ocean.
Here is another pleasant allusion to " Jonathan and the
Dollar":
Such is the plastic nature of Jonathan, his indomitable affection for
the almighty dollar, and his enterprise in the pursuit of it, that it is
far from being impossible that there are lots of his brethren at this time
5*




106                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
in the interior of China, with their heads shaved and long pig-tails
behind them, peddling cuckoo clocks and selling wooden nutmegs.
I give an agreeable little sketch of the delights of boattravelling in the Southwest. What opinion must we form
of this scientific traveller when he introduces the name of a
private gentleman into his vile pages: in connection with
such epithets as Mr. Rector is coupled with. Persons in
distant parts of the country will be surprised to learn that
this blackguard, as described by Mr. Featherstonhaugh, is
a man of position and intelligence; I know him personally,
and his manners and appearance are those of a man of refinement and good breeding. Few citizens are more respected
among those who know him than this much slandered Mr.
Rector.  How  can Mr. Featherstonhaugh expect to be believed in other respects when he perpetrates such base
calumnies, and allows his opinions to be so warped by prejudice:
Upon embarking on board of this steamer I was certainly pleased
with the prospect that presented itself of enjoying some repose and
comfort after the privations and fatigues I had endured; but never was
traveller mole mistaken in his anticipations! The vexatious conduct
of the drunken youth had made a serious innovation upon the slight
degree of personal comfort to be obtained in such a place, but I had
not the slightest conception that that incident would be entirely thrown
into the shade by others a thousand times more offensive, and that,
from the moment of our departure from the post of Arkansas until our
arrival at New Orleans, I was destined to a series of brutal annoyances
that extinguished every hope of repose, or a chance of preserving even
the decencies of existence.
I had been told at the post of Arkansas that ten passengers were
waiting to come on board, and that several of them were notorious
swindlers and gamblers, who, whilst in Arkansas, lived by the most
desperate cheating and bullying, and who skulked about alternately
betwixt Little Rock, Natchez, and New Orleans, in search of any
plunder that violent and base means could bring into their hands.
Some of their names were familiar to me, having heard them frequently




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                  107
spoken of at Little Rock as scoundrels of the worst class. From the
moment I heard they were coming on board as passengers I predicted
to Mr. T******** that every hope of comfort was at an end. But
I had also been told that two American officers, a Captain D***"    * and
a Lieutenant C****-*-tlhe latter a gentleman entrusted with the construction of the military road in Arkansas-were also coming on board;
and I counted upon them as persons who would be, by the force of
education and a consciousness of what was due to their rank as officers,
on the side of decency at least, if not of correct manners; and if those
persons had passed through the national military academy at West
Point, or had served under the respectable chief * of the Topographical
Bureau at Washington, I should not have been as grievously disappointed as it was my fate to be. It was true I had heard that these
officers had been passing ten days with these scoundrels at a low
tavern in this place, in the unrestrained indulgence of every vicious
extravagance, night and day, and that they were the familiar intimates
of these notorious swindlers. Nevertheless, believing that there must
be some exaggeration in this, I continued to look forward with satisfaction to having them for fellow-passengers, confident that they would
be our allies against any gross encroachments of the others.
Very soon after I had retired to the steamer at sunset, the whole
clique came on board, and the effect produced on us was something
like that which would be made upon passengers in a peaceful vessel
forcibly boarded by pirates of the most desperate character, whose
manners seemed to be what they aspired to imitate. Rushing into the
cabin, all but red-hot with whiskey, they crowded round the stove and
excluded all the old passengers from it as much as if they had no right
whatever to be in the cabin. Putting on a determined bullying air of
doing what they pleased because they were the majority, and armed
with pistols and knives, expressly made for cutting and stabbing, eight
inches long and an inch and a half broad; noise, confusion, spitting,
smoking, cursing and swearing, drawn from the most remorseless pages
of blasphemy, commenced and prevailed fiom the moment of this
invasion. I was satisfied at once that all resistance would be vain, and
that even remonstrance might lead to murder; for a sickly old man in
the cabin happening to say to one of them there was so much smoke
he could hardly breathe, the fellow immediately said, "If any man
tells me he don't like my smoking I'll put a knife into him."
x Colonel Abet-t.




108                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
As soon as supper was over they all went to gambling, during
which, at every tlrn of the cards, imprecations and blasphemies of the
most revolting kind were loudly vociferated. Observing them from a
distance where Mr..T******** and myself were seated, I perceived
that one of them was the wretched looking fellow I had seen at Hignite's, on my way to Texas, who went by the name of Smith, and that
his keeper Mr. Tunstall was with him. The most blasphemous fellows
amongst them were two men of the names of Rector and Wilson.
This Rector at that time held a commission under the national government as Marshal for the territory of Arkansas, who was a man of
mean stature, low and sottish in his manners, and as corrupt and reckless as it was possible for a human being to be. The man named
Wilson was a suttler from cantonment Gibson, a military post about
250 miles up the Arkansas: he had a remarkable depression at the
bottom of his forehead; and from this sinus his nose rising with a
sudden spring, gave a fural expression to his face that exactly resembled the portrait of the wicked apprentice in Hogarth. The rubric on
his countenance too was a faithful register of the numerous journeys
the whiskey bottle had made to his proboscis.
We have in the following extract another specimen of
this impartial author's delicacy in introducing private persons by name into such a work as his. It seems the chief
crime of these " Mississippi gentlemen " was gambling. I
wonder if he ever heard of the notorious "hells" of London?
Have gentlemen never gamed in England?
Vicksburg is a modern settlement situated on the side of a hill very
much abraded and cut up into gullies by the rains. The land rises
about 200 feet above the Mississippi, but sinks again very soon to the
east, forming a sort of ridge which appears at intervals as far as Baton
Rouge. On returning to the steamer we were informed that eight or
ten gentlemen, some of whom were planters of great respectability, and
amongst the rest, a Mr. Vick, after whom the place was called, were
coming on board with the intention of going to New Orleans. This
determined us to continue on with the boat, conceiving that we should
be too many for the ruffians in the cabin, and that the captain-who
was anxious to keep up a good understanding with the planters —
would now interfere to keep some order there. But supper being over,




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.               109
and the faro-table spread as usual, what was my horror and astonishment at seeing these Mississippi gentlemen, with the respectable Mr.
Vick, sitting down to faro with these swindlers, and in the course of a
very short time gambling, drinking, smoking, and blaspheming just as
desperately as the worst of them! The cabin became so full of tobacco
smoke that it was impossible for me to remain in it.
I shall dismiss Mr. Featherstonhaugh with the following
extract, from which there seems to be an inclination towards
prejudice against America in England:
It is not to be concealed, nevertheless, that this frequent expression
of aversion to the mother country, added to the late notorious violations
of the most solemn engagements from the same quarter, have raised a
strong and a deep-rooted prejudice on this side of the Atlantic, which,
although natural, is to a certain extent unjust, because there is little or
no discrimination observed in it.
Mrs. Trollope is in every respect the worthy companion
of MIr. Featherstonhaugh.  Her name is so peculiarly illustrative of the style of her book, that one feels half inclined
to suspect that it was assumed for the occasion. I regret
that I shall be unable to draw copiously from her highly
variegated pages. I shall begin with the two general observations on American character, which follow:
It was not till I had leisure for more minute observation, that I felt
aware of the influence of slavery upon the owners of slaves; when I
did, I confess I could not but think that the citizens of the United
States had contrived, by their political alchemy, to extract all that was
most noxious both in democracy and in slavery, and had poured the
strange mixture through every vein of the moral organization of their
country.
How often did our homely adage recur to me, "All work, and no
play, would make Jack a dull boy;" Jonathan is a very dull boy. We
are by no means so gay as our lively neighbors on the other side of the
Channel; but, compared with the Americans, we are whirligigs and
tetotums; every day is a holiday, and every night a festival.




110                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
For fear that our northern friends should be mortified
by supposing that the attention of such talented writers had
been exclusively devoteil to the South, I beg leave to direct
their attention to what Mrs. Trollope politely says of them:
Nothing can exceed their activity and perseverance in all kinds of
speculation, handicraft and enterprise, which promises a profitable
pecuniary result. I heard an Englishman, who had been long resident
in America, declare that in following, in meeting, or in overtaking, in
the street, on the road, or in the field, at the theatre, the coffee-house,
or at home, he had never overheard Americans conversing without the
word DOLLAR being pronounced between them. Such unity of purpose,
such sympathy of feeling, can, I believe, be found nowhere else, except,
perhaps, in an ant's nest. The result is exactly what might be anticipated. This sordid object, for ever before their eyes, must inevitably
produce a sordid tone of mind, and, worse still, it produces a seared
and blunted conscience on all questions of probity. I know not a
more striking evidence of the low tone of morality which is generated
by this universal pursuit of money, than the manner in which the
New  England States are described by Americans.  All agree in
saying that they present a spectacle of industry and prosperity delightful to behold, and, this is the district and the population most constantly
quoted as the finest specimen of their admirable country; yet I never
met a single individual in any part of the Union who did not paint
these New Englanders as sly, grinding, selfish, and tricking. The
Yankees (as the New Englanders are called) will avow these qualities
themselves with a complacent smile, and boast that no people on the
earth can match them at overreaching in a bargain. I have heard
them unblushingly relate stories of their cronies and friends, which, if
believed among us, would banish the heroes from the fellowship of
honest men for ever; and all this is uttered with a simplicity which
sometimes led me to doubt if the speakers knew what honor and
honesty meant. Yet the Americans declare that "they are the most
moral people upon earth." Again and again I have heard this asserted,
not only in conversation, and by their writings, but even from the
pulpit. Such broad assumption of superior virtue demands examination, and after four years of attentive and earnest observation and
inquiry, my honest conviction is, that the standard of moral character
in the United States is very greatly lower than in Europe. Of their




ENGLIS1H WRITERS ON AMERICA.                111
religion, as it appears outwardly, I have had occasion to speak frequently; I pretend not to judge the heart, but, without any uncharitable presumption, I must take permission to say, that both Protestant
England and Catholic France show an infinitely superior religious and
moral aspect to mortal observation, both as to reverend decency of
external observance, and as to the inward fruit of honest dealing
between man and man.
Mrs. Trollope being a native of England, descants of
course upon our style of dinners and parties, and being a
woman, she very good-naturedly introduces the ladies. The
gossiping female was ugly as well as fat, and should, therefore, be excused for what she says of her own sex. Human
nature is very weak, and envy overwhelmingly predominant
in the female heart:
They seldom indulge in second courses, with all their ingenious
temptations to the eating a second dinner; but almost every table has
its dessert (invariably pronounced desart), which is placed on the table
before the cloth is removed, and consists of pastry, preserved fruits,
and creams. They are "extravagantly fond," to use their own phrase,
of puddings, pies, and all kinds of "sweets," particularly the ladies;
but are by no means such connoisseurs in soups and ragoufts as thq
gastronomes of Europe. Almost every one drinks water at table; and
by a strange contradiction, in the country where hard drinking is
more prevalent than in any other, there is less wine taken at dinner;
ladies rarely exceed one glass, and the great majority of females never
take any. In fact, the hard drinking, so universally acknowledged,
does not take place at jovial dinners, but, to speak plain English, in
solitary dram-drinking. Coffee is not served immediately after dinner,
but makes part of the serious matter of tea-drinking, which comes some
hours later. M5ixed dinner parties of ladies and gentlemen are very
rare, and unless several foreigners are present, but little conversation
passes at table. It certainly does not, in my opinion, add to the well
ordering a dinner table, to set the gentlemen at one end of it, and
the ladies at the other; but it is very rarely that you find it otherwise.
There large evening parties are supremely dull; the men sometimes play cards by themselves, but if a lady plays, it must not be for
money; no ecart4, no chess; very little music, and that little lamenta



112                     ENGLISH ITEMS.
bly bad. Among the blacks I heard some good voices singing in tune;
but I scarcely ever heard a white American, male or female, go through
an air without being out of tune before the end of it; nor did I ever
meet any trace of science in the singing I heard in society. To eat
inconceivable quantities of cake, ice, and pickled oysters-and to show
half their revenue in silks and satins, seem to be the chief object they
have in these parties.
The most agreeable meetings, I was assured by all the young
people, were those to which no married women are admitted; of the
truth of this statement I have not the least doubt. These exclusive
meetings occur frequently, and often last to a late hour; on these occasions, I believe, they generally dance. At regular balls married ladies
are admitted, but seldom take much part in the amusement. The
refreshments are always profuse and costly, but taken in a most
uncomfortable manner.  I have known many private balls, where
every thing was on the most liberal scale of expense, where the gentlemen sat down to supper in one room, while the ladies took theirs,
standing, in another.
What we call pic-nics are very rare, and when attempted, do not
often succeed well. The two sexes can hardly mix for the greater part
of a day without great restraint and ennui; it is quite contrary to
their general habits; the favorite indulgences of the gentlemen
(smoking cigars and drinking spirits) can neither be indulged in with
decency, nor resigned with complacency.
The ladies have strang? ways of adding to their charms. They
powder themselves immoderately, face, neck, and arms, with pulverized
starch; the effect is indescribably disagreeable by daylight, and not
very favorable at any time. They are also most unhappily partial to
false hair, which they wear in surprising quantities; this is the more
to be lamented, as they generally have very fine hair of their own. I
suspect this fashion to arise from an indolent mode of making their
toilet, and from accomplished ladies' maids not being very abundant;
it is less trouble to append a bunch of waving curls here, there, and
every where, than to keep their native tresses in perfect order.
Though the expense of the ladies' dress greatly exceeds, in proportion to their general style of living, that of the ladies of Europe, it is
very far (excepting in Philadelphia) from being in good taste. They
do not consult the seasons in the colors or in the style of their costume;
I have often shivered at seeing a young beauty picking her way
through the snow with a pale rose-colored bonnet set on the very top
of her head.




EMGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.               113
She evidently does not admire the dancing of our American ladies, and regrets that there are not a greater number
of French dancing-masters among them. Our men are good
looking, but, like the ladies, do not understand the mysteries
of " carrying themselves " to Mrs. Trollope's satisfaction. I
am especially sorry for this, as " comeliness" of our people is
about the only thing which Mrs. T. was pleased to think
passable.
I fancied I could often trace a mixture of affectation and of shyness
in their little mincing unsteady step, and the ever-changing position of
the hands. They do not dance well: perhaps I should rather say they
do not look well when dancing; lovely as their faces are, they cannot,
in a position that exhibits the whole person, atone for the want of
tournure, and for the universal defect in the formation of the bust,
which is rarely full or gracefully formed.
I never saw an American man walk or stand well; notwithstanding
their frequent militia drillings, they are nearly all hollow-chested and
round-shouldered: perhaps this is occasioned by no officer daring to
say to a brother free-born "hold up your head;" whatever the cause,
the effect is very remarkable to a stranger. In stature, and in physiognomy, a great majority of the population, both male and female, are
strikingly handsome, but they do not know how to do their own
honors; half as much comeliness elsewhere would produce ten times
as much effect.
I regret exceedingly that circumstances should prevent
my enjoying the pleasure of presenting to my readers a few
extracts from Capt. Hall and Mr. Dickens, for- although
they may be familiar with these authors, yet they probably
would not have objected to perusing them a second time, as
they have well deserved a place beside Mr. Feathersonhaugh
and Mrs. Trollope. But the extracts I have made will be
sufficient, with some that I shall add from the Quarterly
Review, for my purpose of illustrating the spirit of the
literary world towards us.
In the following extracts from " Men and' Manners in




114                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
America," by the author of " Cyril Thornton" and "The
Stranger  in America," by Charles William  Janson, the
same tone is observable, though my readers are, perhaps,
less familiar with them than the preceding distinguished
commentators on our country:
M2Ien and Manners in America, by the author of " Cyril
Thornton."
Page 29:
My curiosity was somewhat excited by the high reputation which
an actor, named Forrest, has acquired in this country. I have since
seen this rara avis, and, I confess, the praise so profusely lavished on
him does appear to me somewhat gratuitous. He is a coarse, vulgar
actor, without grace, without dignity, with little flexibility of feature,
and entirely common-place in his conception of character.
Page 30:
Bunker's Hotel, New-York.
Around I beheld the same scene of gulping and swallowing as if
for a wager, which my observations at breakfast had prepared me to
expect; each individual seemed to pitchfork his food down his gullet.
Page 116:
A traveller has no sooner time to look about him in Boston than
he receives the conviction, that he is thrown among a population of a
character differing in much from that of any other city of the Union.
Observe him in every different situation,-at the funeral and the
marriage feast, at the theatre and the conventicle, in the ball-room and
on the exchange, and you will set him down as of God's creatures the
least liable to be influenced by circumstances appealing to the heart or
the imagination.
Page 126:
There is nothing of local attachment about the New Englander. * *
The whole Union is full of stories of his cunning frauds and the impositions he delights to perpetrate on his more simple neighbors. Whenever his love of money comes in competition with his zeal for religion,
the latter is sure to give way. He will insist on the scrupulous obser



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.               115
vance of the Sabbath, and cheat his customer Monday morning. * * *
The New Englanders are not an amiable people. One meets in them
much to approve, little to admire, and nothing to love. * *    N* Nature
in framing a Yankee seems to have given him double brains and half a
heart.
Page 169:
In truth every year must increase the perils of the Federal Constitution; like other bubbles, it is liable to burst at any time, and the
world will then discover that its external glitter covered nothing but
wind.
Page 173:
The leader who gave the first powerful impulse to the democratic
tendencies of the Constitution. His countrymen call him great, but, in
truth, he was only great when compared with those by whom he was
surrounded. * * * We seek in vain in the writings o& Jefferson for
indication of original or profound thought. * * * He has been truly
called a good-hater. His resentments were not vehement and fiery ebullitions of passion burning fiercely for a time, and then subsiding into indifference or dislike. They were cool, fiendlike, and ferocious; unsparing,
undying, unappeasable. The enmities of most men terminate with the
death of their object. It was the delight of Jefferson to trample on
the graves of his political opponents.
Page 174:
The moral character of Jefferson was repulsive. Continually puling
about liberty, equality, and the degrlading curse of slavery, he brought
his own children to the hammer, and made money by his debaucheries.
Even at his death he did not manumit his numerous offspring, but left
them, soul and body, to degradation and the cart-whip. A daughter
of Jefferson's was sold some years ago by public auction at New-Orleans,
and purchased by a society of gentlemen, who wished to testify, by her
liberation, their admiration of the statesman, " who dreamt of freedom
in a slave's embrace." This single line gives more insight to the character of the man than whole volumes of panegyric. It will outlive
his epitaph, write it who may.




116                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
Page 195:
In the present generation of Americans I can detect no symptom
of improving taste or increasing elevation of intellect.
Page 196:
There is at this moment nothing in the United States deserving the
name of library. At present an American might study every book in
the limits of the Union, and still be regarded in many parts of Europe,
especially Germany, as a man comparatively ignorant.
Page 224:
I have already described the hall of the Representatives. I would
now say something of the members (of Congress). Their aspect, as a
body, was certainly somewhat different from any idea I had formed of
a legislative body. Many were well-dressed, and of appearance sufficiently senatorial to satisfy the utmost demands even of a severer critic
in such mattes than I pretend to be; but a large proportion undoubtedly struck me as vulgar and uncouth, in a degree which nothing in
my previous experience had prepared me to expect. It is impossible
to look at these men without at once receiving the conviction that they
are not gentlemen by habit or education, and assuredly in no society
in Europe could they be received as such.
Page 260:
MR. BURGESS'S SPEECH IN CONGRESS.-Were it possible to give any
valuable report of the speech, which of itself would fill a volume, I
would willingly appeal to it as exemplifying the justice of every blun.
der, both of taste and judgment, which I have attributed to American
eloquence. There were scraps of Latin and Shakspeare. There were
words without meaning, and meanings not worth the trouble of embodying in words. There were bad jokes, and bad logic, and arguments without logic of any kind. There were abundance of exotic
graces and homebred vulgarities; of elaborate illustration, of established truths, and vehement invective, and prosy declamation; of conclusions without premises, and premises that led to no conclusions; and
yet this very speech was the object of an eight days' wonder to the
whole Union. The amount of praise bestowed on it in the public
journals would have been condemned as hyperbolical if applied to an




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                  117
oration of Demosthenes. Mr. Burgess, at the termination of the session,
was feted at New-York; and Rhode Island exulted in the verbal
prowess of the most gifted of her sons.
Page 294:
I had never heard of Mrs. Trollope; but at New-York I had afterwards the pleasure of becoming acquainted with her, and can bear
testimony to her tonversation being imbued with all the grace, spirit,
and vivacity which have since delighted the world in her writings.
How far Mrs. Trollope's volumes present a just picture of American
society it is not for me to decide, though I can offer willing testimony
to the general fidelity of her descriptions. * * * But her claims to
the gratitude of the Cincinnatians are undoubtedly very great. Her
architectural talent has beautified the city, and her literary powers
have given it celebrity. For nearly thirty years Cincinnati had gradually been increasing in opulence, and enjoying a vulgar and obscure
prosperity; corn had grown, and hogs had fattened; men had built
houses, and women borne children; but in all the higher senses of
urbane existence Cincinnati was a nonentity. "It was unknown, unhonored, and unsung." Ears polite had never heard of it. There was
not the glimmering of hope that it would be mentioned twice in a
twelvemonth on the Liverpool exchange. But Mrs. Trollope came,
and a zone of light has ever since encircled Cincinnati. Its inhabitants
are no longer a race unknown to fame. Their manners, habits, virtues,
tastes, vices and pursuits are known to all the world; but, strange to
say, the market-place of Cincinnati is yet unadorned by the statue of
the great benefactress of the city.
Page 296:
In regard to the passengers (on the steamboat) truth compels me to
say that any thing so disgusting in human shape I had never seen.
Their morals and their manners were alike detestable-a cold and callous selfishness, a disregard of all the decencies of society, were so apparent in feature, word, and action, that I found it impossible not to
wish that their catalogue of sins had been enlarged by one morehypocrisy. Of hypocrisy, however, they were not guilty. The con+versation in the cabin was interlarded with the vilest blasphemy, not
uttered in a state of mental excitement, but with a coolness and deliberation truly fiendlike.  There was a Baptist clergyman on board, but




118                     ENGLISH ITEMS.
his presence did not operate as a restraint. The scene of drinking and
gambling had no intermission; it continued day and night. The captain of the vessel, so far from discouraging either vice, was one of the
most flagrant offenders in both. He was decidedly the greatest gambler on board, and was often so drunk as to be utterly incapable of
taking command of the vessel. * * *  One circumstance may be
mentioned, which is tolerably illustrative of the general habits of the
people; in every steamboat there is a public comb and hairbrush, suspended by a string from the ceiling of the cabin. These utensils are
used by the -whole body of the passengers, and their condition the
pen of Swift alone could describe. There is no tooth-brush; simply,
I believe, because the article is entirely unknown to the American
toilet.
Page.266:
On the following evening I attended the President's (General Jackson's) levee. Three-I am not sure four-large saloons were thrown
open on the occasion, and were literally crammed with the most singular and miscellaneous assemblage I had ever seen. * * X  The
numerical majority of the company seemed of the class of tradesmen
and farmers, respectable men, fresh from the plough or the counter,
who, accompanied by their wives and daughters, came forth to greet
their President and enjoy the splendors of the gala. There were also
generals, and commodores, and public officers of every grade, and foreign ministers, and members of Congress, and ladies of all ages and
degrees of beauty, from the fair and laughing gill of fifteen to the haggard dowager of seventy. * * *  There were mayors in broadcloth
and corduroys, redolent of gin and tobacco, and mayors' ladies in chintz
or russet, with huge Paris ear-rings and tawny necks, profusely decorated with beads of colored glass. There were tailors from the board,
and judges from the bench; lawyers, who opened their mouths at one
bar, and tapsters who closed them at another; in short, every trade,
calling, craft, and profession, appeared to have sent delegates to this extraordinary convention.* * * For myself, I had seen too much of the United
States to expect any thing different, and certainly anticipated that the
mixture would contain all the ingredients I have ventured to describe.
Yet, after all, I was taken by surprise. * * *  There were present at
this levee men begrimed with all the sweat and filth accumulated in
their day's-perhaps their week's labor.  There were sooty artificers




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                 119
fresh from the forge or the workshop; and one individual I rememberl,
either a miller or baker, who, wherever he passed, left marks of contact on the garments of the company. The most prominent group,
however, in the assemblage was a party of Irish laborers, employed on
some neighboring canal, who had evidently been apt scholars in the
doctrine of liberty and equality, and were determined on the present
occasion to assert the full privileges of the great "unwashed."  I remarked these men pushing aside the more respectable portion of the
company with a certain jocular audacity which put one in mind of the
humors of Donnybrook fair.
Page 279:
During the time I was engaged at the levee, my servant remained
in the hall, through which lay the entrance to the apartments occupied
by the company, and the day following gave me a few details of a
scene somewhat extraordinary but sufficiently characteristic to merit
record. * * *  It appeared that the refreshments intended for the
company, consisting of punch and lemonade, were brought by the servants, with the intention of reaching the interior saloons. No sooner,
however, were these ministers of Bacchus descried to be approaching,
than a rush was made from within, and the whole contents of the trays
were seized in transitu by a sort of coup-de-main; and the bearers,
having thus rapidly achieved the distribution of their refireshments, had
nothing for it but to return for a fresh supply. This was brought, and
quite as compendiously dispatched; and it at length became apparent
that, without resorting to some extraordinary measures, it would be
impossible to accomplish the intended voyage, and the more respectable
portion of the audience would be suffered to depart with dry palates,
and in utter ignorance of the extent of the hospitality to which they
were indebted. The butler, however, was an Irishman, and, in order
to baffle further attempts at intercepting the supplies, had recourse to
an expedient marked by all the ingenuity of his countrymen. * * *
He procured an escort, armed them with sticks, and, on his next advance, these men kept flourishing their shillelahs around the trays with
such alarming vehemence that the predatory horde, who anticipated a
repetition of their plunder, were scared from their prey, and, amid
a scene of execration and laughter, the refreshments, thus guarded,
accomplished their journey to the saloon in safety.




120                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
Page 346:
The inhabitants (of Georgia) bear a bad character in other parts of
the Union. They are, perhaps, a little savage and ferocious, and, in
regard to morals, one is tempted occasionally to regret that the gibbet
is not abroad as well as the schoolmaster. From Fort Mitchell, I travelled with three attorneys, two storekeepers, two cotton planters and
a slave dealer. My notions of the sort of conversation prevalent in
Newgate may not be very accurate, but I much doubt whether it
would be found to indicate such debasement, both of thought and
principle, as that to which I was condemned to listen during this
journey. Georgia receives large accessions of population in the offscourings of other slave States. The restraints of law are little felt,
and it is the only State where I heard it publicly asserted that justice
is not purely administered.
The Stranger in America, by Charles William  Janson.
Page 9:
While at our first meal on board, a specimen of American effrontery
was given us by Bob, the cook-boy, a sprig of a true-born Yankee,
who, reaching his dirty arm across the table, took a tumbler and
deliberately filled it with equal parts of rum and water. He looked
round, and familiarly nodding his head, said, "Good folks, here's to
you."
Page 29:
At Boston they distil large quantities of that detestable spirit called
New England Rum. It is made of damaged molasses, and its baleful
effects are severely felt in every part of the Union. In Virginia, the
Carolinas, and Georgia, it foments quarrels, which produce combats,
like bears and wolves, gouging, biting, kicking, and tearing each other's
flesh, of which I shall make particular mention when I speak of those
States.
Page 309:
On a branch of this river (the Alligatol; in North Carolina), in the
year I have already named, lived a wealthy planter, by name John
Foster. With this man I remained several days, and in him learned




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                121
something of a Southern Planter.      M *  BRine host had led me over
the plantation, and we arrived, almost exhausted from the effects of a
scorching sun, at the dinner hour. Our meal consisted of venison and
a variety of vegetables, which we diluted with apple brandy and water.
This is a most detestable beverage. * * X  I had no choice of spirits,
and to drink water undiluted is often of dangerous tendency. * * *
Thus is an Alligator tavern provided with liquors, and, in fact, it was
as well supplied as any other place of public resort in the district.* * *
A different circumstance produced on me, while at dinner, more disgust than even the fumes of the deleterious drink. This was the officious attendance of two wenches, three-parts grown, without even the
covering our first mother made for herself after her expulsion from
Paradise. * * *  The effluvia arising from the body of a negro in the
month of July are by no means odoriferous; hence I could have dispensed with one of these placed, in compliment, behind my chair. To
complete the scene, Mr. Foster's daughter, a fine girl of sixteen, dined
at our table, and gave orders to the naked creatures of her own sex
with the most perfect sang froid.
What I shall give from  the Foreign Quarterly Review,
of January, 1844, is merely an example of the tone of the
periodical and daily press towards us for years past, as those
will admit who have been familiar with that branch of English literature.  The article referred to, is on the Poets of
America, and commences as follows: " AMERICAN POETRY
always reminds us of the advertisement headed,'the best
substitute for silver;' if it be not the genuine thing it'looks just as handsome, and is miles out of sight cheaper."'
We are far from regarding it as a just ground of reproach to the
Americans, that their poetry is little better than a far-off echo of the
father-land; but we think it is a reproach to them that they should be
eternally thrusting their pretensions to the poetical character in the
face of educated nations. In this particular, as in most others, what
they want in the integrity of their assumption, they make up in
swagger and impudence. To believe themselves, they are the finest
poets in the whole world: before we close this article we hope to satisfy
the reader that, with two or three exceptions, there is not a poet of
mark in the whole Union.
_




122                     ENGLISH ITEMS.
A very original notion of our moral and physical nature
is advanced in the following:
They have felled forests, drained marshes, cleared wildernesses,
built cities, cut canals, laid down railroads (too much of this too with
other people's money), and worked out a great practical exemplification, in an amazingly short space of time, of the political immoralities
and social vices of which a democracy may be rendered capable.
There must be a national heart, and national sympathies, and an
intellectual atmosphere for poetry. There must be the material to
work upon as well as to work with. The ground must be prepared
before the seed is cast into it, and tended and well-ordered, or it will
become choked with weeds, as American literature, such as it is, is now
choked in every one of its multifarious manifestations.  As yet the
American is horn-handed and pig-headed, hard, persevering, unscrupulous, carnivorous, ready for all weathers, with an incredible genius for
lying, a vanity elastic beyond comprehension, the hide of a buffalo, and
the shriek of a steam-engine;'a real nine-foot breast of a fellow, steel
twisted and made of horse-shoe naiLs, the rest of him being cast iron
with steel springs.'
The subjoined picture of American society is highly
interesting, as it emanates from the leading British Periodical.   It is often gratifying to know  what our neighbors
think of us. The English have been always very candid:
Peopled originally by adventurers of all classes and casts, America
has been consistently replenished ever since by the dregs and outcasts
of all other countries. Spaniards, Portuguese, French and English,
Irish, Welsh, and Scotch, have from  time to time poured upon her
coasts like wolves in search of the means of life, living from hand to
mouth, and struggling outward upon the free Indians whom they
hunted, cheated, demoralized, and extirpated in the sheer fury of
hungry and fraudulent aggrandizement.  Catholics, Unitarians, Calvinists and Infidels were indiscriminately mixed up in this work of
violent seizure and riotous colonization, settling down at last into sectional democracies, bound together by a common interest, and a
common distrust, and evolvino an ultimate form  of self-government
and federal centralization to keep the whole in check.




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                 123
This brigand confederation grew larger and larger every day, with
a rapidity unexampled in the history of mankind, by continual accessions from  all parts of the habitable world.  All it required to
strengthen itself was human muscles; it lacked nothing but workmen,
craftsmen, blood, bones, and sinews. Brains were little or nothing to
the purpose-character, morality, still less. "A  long pull, a strong
pull, and a pull altogether," was the one thing needful. Every new
hand was a help, no matter what brand was upon its palm. The
needy and dissolute, tempted by the prospect of gain-the debased,
glad to escape from the old society which had flung them off-the criminal, flying fiom the laws they had outraged-all flocked to America
as an open haven of refuge for the Pariahs of the wide earth. Thus
her population was augmented and is daily augmenting; thus her republics are armed; thus her polite assemblies and select circles are
constantly enlivened by fiesh draughts of kindred spirits and foreign
celebrities-the Sheriff Parkinses, the General Holts, the town-treasurer
Flinns, the chartist secretary Campbells, and the numerous worthies
who, having successfully swindled their own countrymen, seek an elegant retirement in the free States of the Union to enjoy the fruits of
their plunder. The best blood America boasts of was injected into
her at the time of the Irish rebellion, and she looks up with a justifiable pride, taking into consideration the peculiar quality of her other
family and heraldic honor%, to such names as those of Emmet and
M'Nevin.
Can poetry spring out of an amalgam so monstrous and revolting?
Can its pure spirit breathe an air so fetid and stifling? You might as
reasonably expect the vegetation of the tropics on the wintry heights
of Lapland. The whole state of American society, from first to last,
presents insuperable obstacles to the cultivation of letters, the expansion
of intellect, the formation of great and original minds. There is an
instinctive tendency in it to keep down the spiritual to the level of
the material. The progress is not upwards but onwards. There must
be no " vulgar great " in America, lifted on wings of intellectual power
above the level of the community.
Our orators and editors appear to enjoy no brighter reputation with them than the mass of societyThe orator is compelled to address himself to the low standard of
the populace; he must strew his speech with flowers of Billingggate




124                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
with hyperbolical expletives, and a garnish of falsehoods, to make it
effective, and rescue it from the chance of being serious or refined. The
preacher must preach down to the fashion of his congregation, or look
elsewhere for bread and devotion. The newspaper editor must make
his journal infamous and obscene if he would have it popular; for let
it never be supposed that the degradation of the American press is the
work of the writers in it, but of the frightful eagerness of the public
appetite for grossness and indecency.
How conveniently oblivious the learned reviewer appears
to be of those passages in our history, in which England so
conspicuously figured. He may possibly though never have
heard of the Revolution, or the war of 1812; and may be
ignorant.that such battles as Yorktown and New Orleans
have ever been fought:One grand element is wanted for the nurture of the poetical character in America:. —she has no traditions. She started at once into
life, rude, rugged, savage, self-confident. She has nothing to fall back
upon in her history-no age of gold —no fabulous antiquity-no fairyland. The want of historical elements is supplied by the intensity of
the glorification. The two great subjects are Liberty and the Indians.
They don't admire the subject of "' Liberty and the Indians."
Two more unfortunate topics could not have been hit upon. All
men are born equal, says the declaration of independence; we are the
freest of the free, says the poet; and so the slave-owqer illustrates the
proposition by trafficking in his own sons and daughters, and enlarging
his seraglio to increase his live stock. He is his own lusty breeder of
equal-born men. A curious instance of American liberty is cited by a
traveller, who informs us that he knows a lady residing near Washington, who is in the habit of letting out her own natural brother! As
to the Indians, nothing can exceed the interest these writers take in
their picturesque heads and flowing limbs-except the interest they
take in their lands. Nobody could ever suspect, while reading these
fine effusions upon the dignity and beauty of the Indians, that they
were written by people, through whose cupidity, falsehood and cruelty,
the Indians have been stripped of their possessions, and left to starve




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                 125
and rot; that while they were thus evincing the tenderest regard for
the Indian nations in octosyllabic verse, Congress was engaged, through
its servants, in suborning Indian chiefs, and making them drunk, to
entrap them into deeds of sale of their hunting grounds; and, aa if
these and similar atrocities were not enough to mark the difference
between the poetry and the policy of the States, importing bloodhounds from Cuba to hunt the Indians of Florida! It is quite impossible to account for the incredible folly which tempts them to indulge
in such themes, unless we refer it to the same infatuation which makes
them boast of their morality in the face of their filthy newspaper press,
and of their honesty in the teeth of pocket-picking Pennsylvania.
Speaking of some of our national songs, he says:
This standing invitation to go to war, although there be no foe to
fight withal, hits off with felicity the empty bluster of the national
character. The call upon the "immortal patriots" to "rise once more"
is sung at all hours in every corner of the Union by men, women, and
children; and it is very likely that every day the "heaven-born band"
get up out of their beds they believe they are actually rising once more
to defend their rights and their shore. This is the key to the popularity of "Hail, Columbia."  It flatters the heroic qualities of the
people, without making any further requisition upon their valor than
that they shall implicitly believe in it themselves. " The Star-spangled
Banner " is constructed on the same principle, and blows the "heavenborn" bubble with equal enthusiasm; closing with the vivacity of
a cock that knows when to crow on the summit of its odoriferous hill
Here is another condensed commentary on our society
and manners:
These are genuine samples of the cock-a-doodle-doo style of warlike
ballads. But the most remarkable writer of this class was Robert
Paine, a heaven-born genius, who is said to have ruined himself by his
love of the "wine-cup " —which is American for mint-julep and ginsling. He was so depraved in his tastes, and so insensible to the ele(rnmt aspirations of his family, as to marry an actress!  It is amusing
Iand instructive to learn from the American editor that this monstrous
union between two professors of two kindred arts was regarded with
such genteel horror in the republican circles, as to lead to poor Paine's




126                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
"exclusion from fashionable society, and to a disagreement with his
father, which lasted till his death! " The false nature of all this is as
striking as its pseudo fine breeding; and it shows how much bigotry
and intolerance may be packed under the surface of a large pretension
to liberality and social justice. Certainly, there is nothing so vulgar
and base as American refinement-nothing so coarse as American delicacy-nothing so tyrannical as American freedom.
Read his summing-up on American literature:
Stepping out of the literature of England into that of America, is
like going back twenty years into a sort of high-life-below-stairs resuscitation of the style of that period.
The following occurs in his closing paragraph:
Literature is, consequently, the least tempting of all conceivable
pursuits; and men must float with the stream, and live as they can
with the society in which they have been educated. Even were the
moral materials by which this vast deposit of human dregs is supplied,
other than they are-purer, wiser, and more refined,-still America
could not originate or support a literature of her own, so long as English productions can be imported free of cost, and circulated through
the Union at a cheaper rate than the best productions of the country.
And yet there areAmericans, who, in order to extenuate
their senseless devotion to England, will obstinately close
their eyes to the fact that such things have been written of
us in the "fatherland."  But when they are compelled to
remember that an article, rich in such extracts as the preceding, has appeared at the head of the leading Quarterly of
Great Britain, they will scarcely dare contend that Englishmen tenderly love us. The simple statement of so absurd a
proposition must at once become its refutation.
When the learned and elegant "Foreign Quarterly" can
descend to such epithets as are so profusely applied to us in
the above extracts, it is unnecessary to cull "Flowers of
Billingsgate " from the more licentious daily press. When




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           127
Featherstonhaugh, Trollope, and Hall, have made their reputations, and Dickens increased his, by such slanderous
attacks on America, it is natural that they should have
crowds of humble imitators in their calumnious slang. But
I shall dismiss English writers, and turn to some of their
specified accusations.
If spitting be, as the English fain would have it, a nationality, let us boldly spit it into respectability. Our own
timorous apologies for this heinous sin of expectoration, only
encourages our rivals to lecture us upon it. I am no advocate of the habit, but at war as I consider it to be with good
taste, I am willing to see it carried to excess, if but to set
at defiance the impertinent criticism of Englishmen. I often feel heartily inclined to become a tobacco-chewer myself, in order to show my individual contempt for these officious meddlers. Who appointed them moral regulators of
our domestic economy? or what right have they to interfere
with our practices, whatever they may be? Their presumption is founded on our condescending to deprecate their attacks.
In what does it concern John Bull, if each Western farmer, and Southern planter, should be pleased to fill with
tobacco juice a pool, that would float a whole hogshead of
the weed? He might not approve of it; he might even be
disgusted by it, but I would have him taught better manners
than to sneer at it. I am willing that our spitting should
be a source of annoyance to him, but not of contempt. When
we have taught him to entertain a proper respect for us, he
will discuss with considerate caution even what we ourselves
may be willing to confess a fault. When he is convinced
that we have attained such a position in the world, as to
enable us even to spit with impunity, he may still attack the
habit, but will no longer attempt to ridicule it.
Although I am a strong believer in every individual's




128                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
being permitted to do what happens to be most in accordance with his own fancy, provided he does not interfere with
the rights of his neighbors, yet, as I said before, I am no advocate of the peculiarly free-and-easy habit of tobaccochewing. I regard it as being inconsistent with that scrupulous neatness in household arrangements: which is the basis
of true elegance. I believe it is often most inconvenient to
him who indulges in it; but for the life of me, I cannot discover any thing about it so especially offensive. I contend
that it is superlatively disgusting to the English, merely because it is an American habit.  Hating us with an intensity
that helpless rage can only know, it is their chiefest delight
to cavil at us. And finding nothing more serious to object
to, our earlier traducers seized upon this, and each hireling
caterer to the morbid feeling against America in England,
attempts a facetious improvement on the stereotyped jokes
of his predecessors. By constant exaggeration, a simple habit has grown into a great bugbear, whose terrors no Englishman, who crosses the Atlantic, ever omits to enlarge upon.
What after all is there so unbearably revolting about spittle?  Our Saviour in one of his earlier miracles " spat on
the ground, made clay of the spittle, and anointed the eyes
of the blind man with the clay."  " And he said unto him,
go wash in the pool of Siloam. He went his way therefore,
and washed, and came seeing." I have with a crowd of pilgrims gone down to drink from this very pool, for the water
had borrowed new virtue from the miracle.
A spittoon is certainly rather an unsightly sort of an article, but I have no recollection of ever being seriously affected, by witnessing the ejection of the amber colored
juice, by the most inveterate devotee to the weed.  But
admitting that the leniency with which I regard tobacco
chewing, is the result of prejudice, and that the habit is as
stomach-turning as the English profess to consider it, I




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           129
still contend that its terrors are heightened by being most
prevalent in America. Other nations have peculiarities; infinitely more trying to mawkishly delicate sensibilities than
the chewing of tobacco, which are not only passed over without condemnation, but English travellers pride themselves
upon the ease with which they conform to them. The English at home are guilty of things positively nauseating, yet
the stoutest among them, who would pretend great indifference to a whizzing cannon ball, professes to be faintishly affected by the sight of a tobacco quid.
What could be better calculated, under ordinary circumstances, to destroy an appetite, though as vigorous as
an Englishman's, than to see some awkward lout groping
with his thumb for the stuffing of a turkey, or dabbling in
the gravy with his fingers? Yet what upstart islander has
ever preached a crusade against the Turks, because they
did not introduce knives and forks at their tables, but primitively preferred their "pickers and stealers." In this instance, his railing would have a dash of patriotism and common sense about it; for if successful, he might materially
increase the trade of Sheffield by his efforts. But so far
from his objecting to the Oriental style of feeding, a chapter
in almost every English book of travels in the East, is devoted to the infinite grace with which the author sat crosslegged, and took his food with his fingers.
In Paris, at the end of a dinner, a small cup of perfumed water is placed before each guest, with which he is
expected thoroughly to rinse his mouth, and then spirt, deposit, or let fall the water-whichever term you preferin a silver basin which accompanies it. So far from an
Englishman's discovering any thing objectionable about this
habit, he highly approves it, and is rapidly introducing it
into England. Next to the delight enjoyed during his dinner, nothing appears to afford him so high a degree of satis6*




130                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
faction, as this rather too French operation after it. Although I have reason to suspect-from the fact of water
being scarce in Paris, and the contents of the little cups
always being highly unctuous to the touch —that the perfumed water furnished at the cafes washes more than one
mouth during the day; yet an Englishman rejoices in its
use, and still professes, like the Turks, to make cleanliness a
part of their religion. If spitting be objectionable on general principles, it seems to me that, as little fastidious as I
am, I might be excused for considering it disgusting at table.
But although the femininely frail nerves of an Englishman
instantly become relaxed in the presence of a spittoon on
thze floor in America, yet he deems the same article an appropriate ornament of a dinner table in France. This seeming contradiction is perfectly accountable.  One custom is
American, the other French.  France assumes, and maintains the privilege of setting the fashions for the politer
portion of the world, and of course what she does, however
absurd or disgusting, is necessarily in accordance with good
taste. But America being, even according to her own confession, but the modest imitator of England, must expect to
be laughed at by her distinguished model.
It has often afforded me great amusement in the cafes of
Paris, to watch the movements of a newly-arrived John
Bull, eager to assume the deliberate air of a man of travel
and observation. His extraordinary attempts at the names
of the French dishes-his frequent calls for the gascon, as
he usually pronounces the name-his multitudinous wants,
and his sputtering rage when every thing was not done to his
satisfaction, were all ludicrous in the extreme. But it was
the climax of the funny to see him, at the end of his ample
repast, seize his little cup of water, and gaze profoundly
into it. With a sigh of secret satisfaction, he would swig
three-fourths of its contents at a gulp, roll it in his mouth




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.            131
with frightful contortions of feature, and a gurgling sound
of semi-suffocation, and then squirt into his basin, or rather
spittoon, a cascade worthy of a sea-sick toper. It was very
-very rich.  The simply disgusting became, in his hands,
laughable. One forgot his loathing in his merriment. But
this same cockney coxcomb, who seemed to pride himself on
the size and force of the stream he could throw at the dinner-table, would have instant recourse to his vial of aromatic vinegar upon the most unobtrusive getting-rid of superfluous saliva, by an American in the street. As I said before, the former habit is FrIenchl, and so conducive to cleanliness. To rinse one's mouth before leaving table is certainly not a comely habit to look upon, though it is, without
doubt, very French, and very clean. Using the same argument, it might be declared that the vulgar habit of a man's
blowing his nose with his fingers was, in the abstracts much
cleaner than using a handkerchief, and carefully stowing it
away in his pocket.  But I scarcely think that even the
most adventurous of Frenchmen would, on this account,
advocate the introduction of the custom into refined circles.
In theory it may be clean to do, but it is decidedly not
pleasant to see. And so I think of the Parisian habit of
rinsing the mouth at table-British advocacy to the contrary, notwithstanding.
Nature has wisely placed the nose as a sentinel to the
stomach, and whatever is offensive to one, we may be sure is
not proper for the other. And yet the elegant gourmands of
England contend that venison is not fit to be served till the
very waiter must hold his nose at it, as he places it on the
table. The daintiest epicures will greedily devour pheasants
and partridges which have picked themselves, merely because
the flesh has become too " short" to retain the feathers.
Yet these bold Britons, who have from their infancy, in violation of nature's laws, loaded their stomachis with such loath



132                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
some crammings, profess that their insatiate maw8 are endued with sensibilities so delicate, that they are painfully affected by the sight of a little tobacco-juice. Could affectation
be more absurd, or contradiction more ridiculous? I would
as soon think of a brick's being dissolved by the sight of mortar, as an Englishman's stomach being turned by the sight
of any thing. It's much the firmest part about him.
But in conclusion of this not very interesting subject,
if we in America m2ust spit, let us spit out courageously before the whole world. There is nothing to be ashamed of
in it, and even if there was, our attemping to spit by stealth
would only invite new attacks from our enemy, by this implied confession of a fault.
Many things are judged of in this world, by the manner
in which people do them. Nothing can be more opposed to
the loosest notions of morality, and chivalry, than stealing.
Yet what Christian, or modern hero professes to despise
the Spartans, as a nation of thieves? And why do they not
do so, as they ought, in accordance with their moral professions? Simply because the Spartans gloried in theft. A
scared dog with a tin pan to his tail will always have the
whole pack of village curs at his heels, but if he turns upon
them his assailants pause ere they attack him.
So I beseech again, let us spit fearlessly and profusely.
Spitting, on ordinary. occasions, may be regarded by a portion of my countrymen as a luxury: it becomes a duty in
the presence of an Englishman. Let us spit around himabove him-and beneath him-every where but on him, that
he may become perfectly familiar with the habit in all of its
phases. I would make it the first law of hospitality to an
Englishman, that every tobacco twist should be called into
requisition, and every spittoon be flooded, in order thoroughly
to initiate him into the mysteries of " chewing." Leave no
room for his imagination to work.  Only spit him once into




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           133
a state of friendly familiarity with the barbarous custom, and
he will be but too happy to maintain a profound silence on
the subject for the rest of his life.  I would give each hurrying tourist, who lands on our shores, inflated' by preconceived
opinions for an abusive book on America, his fill of spitting
as an infallible remedy for his windiness.  Let the dose be
copious, and the cure will be complete. If no more desirable
end be attained by the prescription, we shall at least be
allowed to spit in peace.
After the notable habit of salivarizing, there is nothing
about Americans so constantly harped upon by Englishmen,
as their precipitate rush to the table, and even greater hurry
to leave it. The general stampede for the table, which I
acknowledge sometimes occurs on steamboats, and in interior
towns, but never in our cities, I most emphatically disapprove of. Such haste is too indicative of the carnivorous
propensities of the English themselves, to be at all in accordance with my rigidly American notions.  But what
reasonable objection could be urged to a gentleman's quietly
leaving a public dinner-table, when his wants were satisfied,
it would, without English assistance, be somewhat difficult
to divine. An Englishman objects to the haste with which
we dispatch so important an affair as dinner.  Being himself endowed with the voracity of a shark, the gizzard of an
ostrich, and " the dilating powers of the anaconda," he
imagines that every one must, from necessity, gorge his food
as he does himself. To any man who has ever taken the dimensions of an Englishman's appetite, it can no longer be
a matter of surprise, that with him feeding becomes a very
serious sort of undertaking. It is one of those things which,
like the "cooling" of a steamer, necessarily requires time,
and which, not even the hurry of coal-heavers could decidedly
facilitate.
The process of "bolting food," so minutely elaborated on




134                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
by Englishmen, I have never seen in any portion of our
country, though these six-week travellers, more fortunate
than myself, appear to have met with it everywhere. But
in England I have witnessed this bolting operation, which
I immediately recognized as the original of pictures of
imaginary scenes in America drawn by Englishmen. And
yet I never knew an Anglo-Dane-Saxon-Norman to make a
hasty meal. Shovel his food as he may, it is nevertheless a
slow operation-so is levelling a mountain.
Although the dinner-table is the scene of an Englishman's most extraordinary exploits, he has the bad taste not
to be proud of them, though Heliogabalus himself might
justly have been so.  Although a glutton by nature, yet
strangely enough he is sensitive on the subject of his gluttony. He cannot endure that the moderate appetites and
simple wants of another nation should render his own greediness so conspicuous.  He has attempted therefore to force
them into at least an affectation of his peculiar habits, by
railing at the haste with which they take their meals.
It seems to me that the time allowed for dinner in our
principal towns and cities, ought to be ample for the satisfaction even of a British appetite. But it appears that this
is not so. Every book of travels which is given to the world
after twenty days' close study and minute observation of a
country, nearly equal in extent to the whole of Europe,
teems with piteous complaints of the hurry with which the
author was compelled to take his dinner.  He apparently
demands even a longer time for his meals in America than is
required in his own country-this may be accounted for by
the fact, that in England a man pays for each article he
orders-which is measured out with mathematical exactitude. An Englishman's economy, under such circumstances,
neutralizes his voracity. But in America, where a sumptuous
display of vialdsl is made to wlich lhe has never been accus



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          135
tomed, and where he enjoys the privilege of stuffing himself
to his utmost capacity, without an increase of expense, he
very naturally feels inclined to improve his opportunities,
and lingers at the table accordingly. His expressions of
grief are so earnest, and his lamentations so touching, that
from my heart I pity him. I cannot resist the temptation
of suggesting, that an English dining-room be furnished in
our principal hotels, where hungry Islanders may sociably
spend the day in a manner most in accordance with their
feelings.
Americans really eat with no more haste than Englishmen,-the difference in the time, demanded for dinner by
the two nations,arising altogether from the difference in the
quantity of food consumed. As an Englishman eats three
times as much as an American, it is evident from calculation,
that even with the assistance of the English habit of " bolting," he must remain a considerably longer time at table.
The travelled fox lost his tail, and earnestly advised his
fellow-foxes to follow the newly imported fashion. An Englishman dwells on his dinner, like an enraptured lover on a
kiss, and wishes to force all the world into acknowledging
the same ecstatic bliss in its enjoyment. Because he himself is transported by the excitement of eating, he would
have every body else experience the same table enthusiasm.
A common charge against Americans is their " excessive
love of money," and "inordinate greediness for gain."  We
sometimes "talk of dollars" in America, and are actually
guilty of exerting ourselves to make them. What presumption in Republicans! Trying to attain that which constitutes the power of the English aristocracy.  If making
money had been a crime, the present nobility of England
would have all been residents of New South Wales-as their
ancestors would undoubtedly have been transported thither.
What was it that made most of their progenitors worthy of




136                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
being ennobled? What is it that sustains the importance
of the present nobility-but money?  And how was this
vital spark of aristocracy originally acquired unless it was
worked for? A few noble families,'tis true, owe their wealth
to what in England is considered the rare good fortune of
having the illegimate sons of a king for ancestors. A still
smaller number are indebted for their importance to the
plunder of Saxon churls by Norman invaders.  But the
large majority of the founders of the present titled families
of Great Britain must have toiled most manfully for the fortunes, which formed the basis of their earliest distinction.
The 430 noble personages of England give tone to public
sentiment, —they think-they speak-they act for the nation.
The great mass of the people have no opinion-no voice of
their own. And when the nobility inveigh against those
attempting to make fortunes, the entire people echo the sage
sentiment-but none so noisily as the merchants and tradesmen, who have already, by dint of struggling and hoarding,
become rich enough to retire from business, and entertain
vague hopes of being ennobled some day themselves.
These 430 drones, hiving on the wealth which the labor
of others has amassed, never omit an opportunity of sneering
at those engaged in the acquisition of riches. Enjoying incomes themselves of from fifty thousand to three millions of
dollars, they can well afford to condemn money-making as
unworthy. And all the rich citizens and popular journals
cry "hear! hear!" as if an oracle had spoken.  No pursuit
is dishonorable, unless the object pursued be base. And if
money-making, in some honorable occupation, be so shamefully unworthy, then the nobility must be the quintessence
of baseness, for money, as I said before, gives vital power to
their order. What would they be without it? What is a
title, without a fortune to maintain it? A mockery, which
the very mob hoots at. But notwithstanding their ostenta



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           137
tious professions of contempt for lucre, the aristocracy know
the real value of money, and are jealous that people beyond
their own circle should possess it.  Hence their zeal to convince the world, that any active pursuit, in which money is
to be made, is dishonorable. To rival them in fortune is to
share their power,-to surpass them, would be to destroy
their present monopoly of influence. Is it surprising then,
that they should constantly cause crusades to be preached
against money-making?  What could be more absurd, than
this pretended indifference to money, and contempt for its
seekers?
When money-making is confined to the sordid passion
of accumulation, when the wretched miser pinches himself
and grinds every body else to enjoy the mean gratification
of gloating over heaps of shining metal, I cordially assent
to the strictures, which in all countries and every age have
been passed on avarice. But so far from this most degraded
of passions being common in America, our citizens are too often
destitute of a becoming sense of economy, and run into the
other extreme of extravagance.  It is true that almost every
one in America is engaged in some active pursuit. In a
country yet young, and almost entirely deficient in those
convenient haunts for idlers, the parks, the clubs, the drives,
the promenades, and all the possible varieties of amusement,
even those who could live without it, seek occupation as a
source of enjoyment.  We cannot escape the original curse
that man should earn his bread by the sweat of his brow;
exertion of some sort is essential to existence, and no man
can be contented, unless he is, or imagines himself to be, employed. I cannot conceive a more dreary sort of existence
than a mere idler in most portions of America, deprived as
he is of the elegant means of killing time, which are provided
for the various aristocracies of Europe. Yet many, with
mistaken notions of aristocracy, submit to the penance of




138                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
idleness, in order to appear genteel. If gentility can present no higher claims to consideration, I fear it will never
flourish in America. What could be more ridiculous than
a man's boring himself by doing nothing, merely to ape the
aristocratic indolence of the nobility of Europe, where the
idlest of men can be the most busily engaged in the countless pleasures which surround him? But that Americans are
generally so wedded to business as to have no time for the
ordinary enjoyments of life, is glaringly untrue. We constantly find them indulging in those more refined pleasures
which are only enjoyed by the strictly aristocratic circles of
England. Money is only valuable to them on account of
the comforts and the enjoyments it procures. Large fortunes by inheritance are comparatively unknown in America,
the fathers of our Republic having overthrown the aristocratic law of primogeniture as inimical to our institutions.
Almost every man with us must start in life with the manly
consciousness that he has his own fortune to make. And
any young gentleman who is so verdant as to doubt that
"ready money " is " Aladdin's lamp," should be sent to England to complete his education.'When he witnesses the
miracles it works there, his skepticism will be removed I
am very sure.  One distinguished bard has declared that
"love rules the camp, the court, the grove."  But Byron,
more familiar with the domestic economy of Great Britain,
says, that "cash rules love, the ruler," and therefore rules
the world.
The young men of most wealthy families in America are
reared with tastes that their inheritances cannot support.
But those young Americans who are prepared by education
and carly association for the enjoyment of the luxurious inlulgcnces which fortune only can procure, not being so lucky
-s the youthful nobles of England, who have their fortunes
ready made to their hands, must strike boldly out, and labor




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           139
for the means of indulging the elegant tastes of educated refinement.  And the snob who is so snobbish as to sneer at
a young gentleman so engaged, deserves to be crowned chief
of the fraternity.  But although young Americans exert
themselves with laudable energy in the acquisition of fortune,
yet they spend it with a liberality altogether unknown in
England. I have closely observed my countrymen both at
home and abroad, and I have invariably found them living
with a profusion far surpassing that of the moneyed circles
of Great Britain of ten times their income. So far are they
from deserving the oft-repeated charge of sordid meanness,
that their liberality in proportion to their resources would
be condemned in England as reprehensible extravagance.
But this very objectionable mania for lucre, of which
Englishmen so unjustly accuse us, is not only prevalent in
their own middle classes, but is found in its most animated
perfection among the nobility themselves. Those who have
the candor to inquire, will find the commercial circles of
Great Britain so inveterately wedded to their business as to
be deprived of all those enlightened amusements which even
ordinary wealth could procure them.   They allow  their
dreams of riches to be interrupted by no pleasing relaxations,
except equally halcyon visions of dinner.  They are not
satisfied with a competent independence. They persevere
in slaving and hoarding, till they have amassed a fortune immensely greater than is ever enjoyed by Americans, except
in extremely isolated cases. Buried in the dark lanes of
" the city," they are as integral portions of their countingrooms as the high stools or the iron safe. They hear no
news but the rise and fall in stocks, and have no conversation except on the past and probable variations in the price
of " stuff." They read no books but the ledger, and feel no
interest in any thing but their cash. When that " balances,"
they are as happy as their natures are capable of being.




140                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
The interior of a theatre is wholly unknown to them, and
an opera is something they have yet to hear. Their ideas
of amusement are concentrated in the occult science of
" book-keeping by double entry." Their only excitement is
counting money-their only grief is its loss. They go to
church to carry their wife's prayer book, and sum up long
calculations of last week's profits.  The disturbances in
France are only regarded as active causes of depression of
public credit and the price of rich silks. " The summary"
by the last steamer from America possesses no charm for
them beyond the probable decline of cotton, or a reported
advance in pork. Their education consists in writing a round,
commercial hand, calculating compound interest, and being
able to cipher in'" the double rule of three." They never
bother their heads by conjectures as to whether the earth is
square or oblong; they know nothing, and care less, about
the motions of the heavenly bodies, except that the declining sun indicates the hour for going to dinner; they have
no intercourse with their fellow-beings beyond the formalities of a business transaction; and were never known to
manifest a friendship except for the warehouse cat; they have
no time to talk, and never write- except on business; all
hours are " office hours" to them, except those they devote
to dinner and to sleep; they know nothing, they love nothing, and hope for nothing beyond the four walls of their
counting-room; nobody knows them, nobody loves them;
they are too mean to make friends, and too silent to make
acquaintances; they are as methodical, as uninteresting as
their own day-book; their only aim in life is to make
money; their only exertion is to avoid spending it; and
when, in the decline of a life of privations, they do retire from
the harassing toils of business, it is to grumble in monosyllabic spleen at their superiors, and to make ostentatious donations to charitable institutions, for which they are never




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          141
thanked; they sink into the grave unloved and unmourned,
leaving a vast fortune to some selfish son, who has all his
life been ashamed of his father, and will use his money to
purchase a position from which he may look down with scorn
on all merchants and tradespeople.  I am not surprised
that English exclusives should sneer at the commercial
classes of America, if they imagine that our merchants resemble their own.
The same grasping greediness is constantly manifested
by the nobility, notwithstanding their enormous fortunes by
inheritance.  There is no office they will not sue for-no position they will not accept, which gives promise of profit.
The ermined robe of a Peer, like the blue gown in Scotland, confers on its lucky wearer the privileges of a licensed
beggar. This is no ordinary advantage in a country where
common beggars are so severely punished. The sinecure
positions under government, and the pension lists, are the
poor-house unions, established for the accommodation of
noble mendicants. In their applications for " relief," their
Lordships unite the whining perseverance of the ordinary
pauper, with the sturdy intrepidity of the highwayman.
The vile street-beggars may be summarily disposed of, and
the white-waistcoated citizen never hesitates to relieve himself
and the public from their importunities, by depositing information at the police office. But unfortunately there is
no aristocratic house of correction, to which importunate
nobles may be consigned, when they become troublesome in
their applications. Partly by urgent solicitation, and partly
by pertinacious bullying, they generally obtain what they
desire from government, however unreasonable and inconvenient their demands may be. Search through the profitable sinecures and the oppressive pensions, and you will find
them all monopolized by their noble Lordships themselves.
Examine the army and navy lists, and it will be seen




142                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
that the commissions in the Royal regiments, with high pay
and nothing to do, and the prominent commands in the naval
service, which justly belong to older and abler sailors, have
all been appropriated to the support of their Lordships' sons.
They deem it a stain on a noble escutcheon to engage in
any active occupation, however respectable, but they seem to
be conveniently destitute of scruples about becoming pensioners upon the strained charities of an over-taxed people.
But in searching for examples of the voracity displayed
by rich Britons in keeping all they have, and clutching at
more, we need not descend lower than the palace.  The
proud court of England's Queen affords the most startling
instances of the national vice. That kingdom is deemed
happiest, whose monarch adopts the sentiments, and practises the customs of the people. England should be very
happy in her Queen. In her evident appreciation of money,
Her Majesty is peculiarly successful in adapting her own
taste to that of her subjects.
The English nation, in order to support the dignity of
their royal ruler, annually appropriate the very inconsiderable sum of $1,925,000. It is to be hoped that the people
are amused by the regal rattle, since they are compelled to
pay so dearly for it. After meeting every possible expense
she might chance to be subjected to in her domestic arrangements and her public duties, they contribute $300,000 as
pin-mnoney to the Queen. In addition to this snug little
sum, she enjoys $70,000 from the Duchy of Lancaster, and
derives $60,000 more from pickings, in various quarters.
During the minority of the Prince of Wales, she possesses
entire control over his Duchy of Cornwall, and the right
to use the $190,000 yielded by the principality, after the
deduction of salaries, expenses, and allowances to its numerous officers.  Every personal want is considered and
every public emergency provided for, when the ministers an



ENGLISII WRITERS ON AMERICA.         143
nually present the budget to Parliament. Every possible
public and private expenditure of the Queen is paid from
the vast sum of $1,625,000 appropriated by parliament for
that purpose.  Yet, in addition, she has her pin-money,
$300,000, which is granted by parliament; she has the $260,000 produced by the two Duchies, and the $60,000 derived
from other sources, making in all the vast sum of $620,000,
which the Queen receives annually as her private pocketmoney, besides the $1,625,000 devoted to her support.
When it is remembered that every article of apparel she
wears and every meal she takes-that all the equipages and
horses she owns-that her servants, her furniture, her travelling expenses, and her palaces, are all provided for from the
immense sums allotted by the government to the support of
the different departments of her household, the question
naturally arises, what can she do with the $620,000 which
she receives independent of all expenses? That this sum is
exhausted,'tis our duty to believe, since we shall see that
the Queen appropriated a small public fund, which should
have been sacred even in the eyes of Royalty, to charities
to her own personal favorites. Though her profusion should
equal Caligula's, and she should amuse herself by seeing the
mob scramble for her largesses, it would yet seem strange
that in one year she could squander so immense a sum, in
addition to the million and a half of dollars appropriated
to her support. But the question is of money. Remember
that lucre is the subject of surmise, and the mystery is solved.
The Queen would be unjust to herself and insulting to her
people, should she display a careless indifference to what
they so highly prize. She would prove recreant to the duties
of her position, did she not carefully hoard what every Englishman guards more tenderly than England's honor or his
own.
This wonderful people of England, after having so mag



144                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
nificently provided for their Queen, generously set aside the
enormous sum of $6,000, to be distributed among such individuals who have by their talents or scientific attainments
deserved "the gratitude of the country."  It is an eloquent
commentary on the amount of intellect existing at present
in England, that all the men of genius and learning in the
kingdom are estimated by parliament at one-fiftieth part of
the importance of Her Majesty's pin-money.  If the talents of the nation mnust be rated and are rated so low, is it
surprising that the standard of intellect should sink? Ought
it to seem strange that the present race of Englishmen are
so much more expert with their knives and forks than their
pens?-that their tongues are so much more happily employed in mastication than in eloquence?
Even we Republicans are accustomed to associate the
highest degree of magnificence and liberality with the title
of King. We are familiar from our infancy with "royal
munificence " and "princely generosity " as figures of speech
conveying ideas of superlative profusion. Queen Victoria
seems by no means insensible of the ordinary attributes of
royalty, but entertains somewhat original notions of the
manner of displaying them. She is very charitable, but is
rather peculiar in being so at other people's expense. She
appears to think, that as her ministers must bear the odium
attached to the unpopular acts of the crown, the pleople ought
to sustain the expense of such deeds as might win for it
popularity. She being the acknowledged head of the British nation, her munificence must necessarily reflect honor on
them, and they should be but too happy to pay for it.
Although I have shown that the Queen is in the yearly
receipt of $1,625,000, and has a privy purse of $620,000
per annum, yet when she desired to manifest her substantial
gratitude to her seven private teachers, she boldly quartered
them on the public, and granted them all pensions of $500




ENGLISH WRITERS'ON AMERICA.         145
apiece, out of the pitiful fund appropriated for needy authors, "who had deserved the gratitude of the country."
The mere fact of these persons having been the instructors
of the Queen would, in a country like England, have given
them all a far greater number of the wealthiest scholars
than they could possibly have attended to, and must have
placed them, not only far above want, but in affluent circumstances. But even supposing those worthy people to have
been in need of the royal bounty, would it not have been in
better taste, to say nothing of regal munificence, to have
supplied their wants from her own privy purse, rather than
misapply a large portion of a fund, which the people had
appropriated for the benefit of such of themselves who had
rendered important services to their country?
It is true, that this squad of fortunate foreigners had
imparted to the Queen some knowledge of the pretty little
accomplishments of their respective countries. But by what
ingenious interpretation of the act they could be numbered
among those " who had deserved the gratitude of the country," it would be somewhat difficult to determine. If enabling Queen Victoria to strum by rote one of Strauss's
waltzes on the piano, or to hop through a polka, with ease to
herself and satisfaction to her partner, could be properly
placed in the category of eminent services to the state, these
whiskerandoes had deserved the gratitude of the country;
and by a forced interpretation of the act, might have been
pensioned from this fund. But it seems to me that these
elegant pastimes being much more amusing to the Queen
than useful to her subjects, she should have rewarded her
seven faithful teachers from her own ample privy purse of
$620,000, and not arbitrarily mounted them on the shoulders of the already overloaded public. If these pensions
were intended, as mementoes of affectionate remembrance to
her different instructors, would they not have been much more
F7




146                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
acceptable if generously bestowed by herself, instead of
being forced from the public?  During this year $3,500
of the magnificent literary fund were consumed by fiddlers
and singers, whilst the dazzling sum  of $1,500 was left
to be divided among all the genius and learning of Great
Britain. The grant of these pensions was made 23d July,
1840, Viscount Melbourne being Premier.
As an evidence of the rare discrimination displayed by
Her Majesty, in the appreciation of merit, I beg leve to refer to the pension of $500 to Peter Warren Dease, Esq.,'chief factor in the service of the Hudson Bay Company;
in consideration of the personal danger and fatigue undergoneby him, in geographical discoveries on the Northern
coast of America.": Granted March 17th, 1841, Viscount
Melbourne, Premier."  Mr. Dease, for his useful geographical discoveries, is honored by being raised to the level of
Her Majesty's dancing-master.  Such extraordinary acuteness in determining the degrees in which persons had
deserved the gratitude of their country, justly entitles
Queen Victoria to the thankful acknowledgments of her
subjects, and should reconcile them to the burthen of the
seven private teachers.
During another year Her Gracious Majesty made two
grants, within five months of each other, from this identical
literary fund, of $2,500 each, to Mademoiselle Augusta Emma D'Este, the illegitimate daughter of the Duke of Sussex,
"in consideration of her just claims on the Royal beneficence."  His Royal Highness of Sussex married Lady Augusta Murray, the daughter of the Earl of Dunmore, at
Rome, and afterwards in London, in 1793. The issue of
this union were a son and daughter; but the marriage was
dissolved as contrary to the Royal Marriage Act, in 1794;
thus unfortunately for them bastardizing both of their children.  This was the misfortune, not, the fault of Mademoi



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          147
selle. And every voice must have approved the munificence
of the sovereign, had she granted a pension to her unfortunate
cousin from her enormous privy purse. But Her Gracious
Majesty resolved to be generous and unjust, to be charitable
and prudent, and boldly appropriated to her own private use, in
a pension to Mademoiselle D'Este, $5,000 of the $6,000 intended for poor authors. The reputation for charity, acquired at
the expense of justice and honor, would scarcely add to the
list of the Queen's reputed virtues. Such profusion could not
readily be mistaken for liberality. Upon such terms, any one
could afford to appear generous who was unscrupulous
enough to appropriate what did not belong to him, as the
means of making the display.
This daring proceeding was not only a violation of the
rights of the people, whom she professed to govern according
to a free constitution, but it was in open opposition to the
laws, which it was her sworn duty to see executed. For
Mademoiselle D'Este could not advance even the imaginary
claims of the Queen's teachers to the gratitude of the country. What had she done, that this sacred fund should be
squandered in her behalf? No one can hereafter doubt the
properest possible appreciation of the value of money in
Her Majesty, when she would so fearlessly disregard public
opinion, in order to preserve intact her own darling privy
purse. After such indubitable evidence of the Queen's
ability to take care of her own funds, it seems somewhat extravagant to pay Col. Phipps $10,000 to take care of them
for her.  $10,000 to "the keeper of Her Majesty's privy
purse! "  What a commentary in the very name of the office upon the abuses under the English government! The
first pension was granted to Mademoiselle D'Este 5th
tI1arch, 1845, the second, 28th July, 1845, Sir Robert Peel
being Premier. The fact of its being notorious, that she
was then engaged to be married to Sir Thomas Wilde, who




148                ENGLISH ITEMS.
was annually in receipt of $40,000 as Lord Chief Justice of
the Court of Common Pleas, in addition to his enormous
private fortune, accumulated in his profession, made the
outrage of these pensions the more glaring. And, although
she was married within six weeks after the last grant, no intimation of a desire to return the $5,000 a year to the much
abused fund has ever been made, notwithstanding the immense revenues of her husband.
A pension of $2,000 to the Baroness Lehzen was granted
24th Sept., 1842, Sir Robert Peel, Premier. The Baroness,
for a long period, during the minority of Her Majesty, was
her private secretary and confidential attendant.  Her
faithful services and constant devotion to the Queen
may have deserved some.lasting mark of her appreciation,
but to provide for her from this fund, intended for poor
authors, and the useful laborers for the public weal, evinced
a wanton contempt of law,whose enormity far surpassed that
of the other two instances, given above.
It was but natural that Queen Victoria, having grown
up under the eye of Baroness Lehzen, should regard her
with the sincerest affection. Their associations were of the
most intimate character, and their attachment mutual. As
Her Majesty's confidence in her friend was unlimited, it was
not extraordinary that she regarded the opinions of the
Baroness with deferential respect. But, 4athough there is
no evidence that the Baroness ever exerted her great influence for purposes of political intrigue, yet the people, always
jealous of foreign interference, became alarmed. It was
soon whispered that the Baroness exercised a sway in the
Queen's Councils, inconsistent with British interests. The
murmurs swelled into clamor, and the three kingdoms resounded with discontent. The universal disapprobation was
too boldly expressed, for the power even of the Queen long
to protect her favorite. Deeply attached as she undoubtedly




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           149
was to the Baroness, and wilful as she had ever been in trifles, she lacked the moral courage to resist the common wish
of all classes of the nation. The obnoxious favorite was,
therefore, gently dismissed from court, and escorted into a
sort of honorable exile in Germany. But at parting, she
received from the poor mutilated literary fund a nice little
token of the Queen's regard and regret, in the shape of a
pension of $2,000 a year. A fugitive from the resentment
of an indignant people, she was yet permitted to bear off, in
triumph, this substanlial evidence of " the gratitude of the
country." The people might very cheerfully have given
$2,000 a year during her lifetime, to get rid of her; but to
quarter her on this fund, so positively provided for those
whose talents or services had been useful to the state, required the ingenuity, as well as the power of a sovereign.
Hers was not the negative position of Mademoiselle D'Este.
She was not simply without claims, but she was notoriously
odious to all classes of the people. Yet, in the Queen's
anxiety to save her own money, she was rewarded in a way
which announced to the world that she had deserved their
warmest gratitude. Does it not seem incredible that the
Queen's annual income is $2,245,000?  By what epithet
can impartial historians in times to come characterize such
a transaction?  The pension to Mademoiselle D'Este was a
contemptuous disregard of her subjects' rights; the one to
Baroness Lehzen was an insulting mockery of their helplessness. Although I am examining the conduct of the Queen
in her officiol capacity, I cannot forget that she is a woman,
and gallantry restrains me from the expression of feelings,
which such proceedings naturally excite. These are not
isolated examples of outrage, which I have given, as they
will find who will take the trouble of examining the pension
list for themselves, but are fair illustrations of the strictly
impartial manner in which the rewards of literary merit are
dispensed by Her Majesty.




150                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
Prince Albert enjoys a rather comfortable sort of income
of $300,000 a year. $150,000 are appropriated by Parliament; the other half he receives as jobbing colonel of regiments he does not command-ranger of parks he never enters-governor of castles he never sees —and fancy-farmer
on land for which he pays no rent. Not the least considerable of these profitable sundries is the Flemish farm, which
is not only very profitable to His Royal Highness, but is
enjoyed rent-free. Possessing an income, more than four
times as large as those of all the governors of all the States
of our Union together, and being besides one of those rarely
lucky fellows, who get their board and washing for nothing,
it appears presumable that Prince Albert might gratify
" his modest little wants" without the necessity of sordid
savings. But such seems from the archives of the country
not to be the case. Although his chief items of expense may
be enumerated under the heads of bouquets and white kid
gloves for levees-cocked hats and top-boots for reviewsand Macassar oil and Lubin's perfumes for " private drawing-rooms;" yet the consumption of these articles must be
prodigious, as the Prince seems reluctant to pay the only
debt which even the noblest Englishman cannot shirk-his
taxes. When called upon by the tax-collector, he meanly
skulked behind the petticoats of his wife, to avoid the payment of his taxes for the Flemish farm.  He declared that
he never occupied the farm without Her Majesty, and that
therefore he was exempted from the payment of taxes. On
this trivial pretext he was allowed to escape. Jt is difficult
to determine which is worthier of contempt, the Prince who
could stoop to so mean an outrage, or the nation who would
submit to it. An inexorable government enforces its demands from the neediest freeholder. even to selling the pet
pig, or family cow. A Prince is exempted from the payment of his legal taxes, because there is no officer with the




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           151
moral courage to arraign him. Alas! for the majesty of
law in England! How Justice has been shorn of her
glories since the days when the madcap hero of Agincourt
could so meekly bow to her decrees. The nation could not
now exclaim with Henry IV.: " Happy is the King with a
Judge bold enough to execute the laws, and a son magnanimous enough to submit to them." England has been prolific in Princes: she has produced but one Sir William Gascoigne. The proud dignity with which the venerable Chief
Justice resented the blow received from the mad Prince
Hal, by committing him to prison, gave an illustrious precedent to the Judges of England. But the days are passed
for such precedents to be remembered. The ermine, which
clothes the back, has enervated the soul of British Justiceher heart will soften to maudlin weakness towards any one
who sports the spotted fur.  What common subject of
Britain could with impunity have set at defiance the laws
of the land, and escaped the payment of his taxes, upon such
absurd pretences? His Royal Highness was not satisfied
with the possession of this farm rent-free, to add to his already swollen revenues.  Being husband to the Queen, he
had the power to avoid the expense of taxes, and he had
been too long in England not to do so. He never occupied
the farm without the Queen, and he was therefore not subject to be taxed.  This was the truth, but not "the whole
truth;" for probably neither one of them ever did, or ever
would, occupy the premises a night during their lives.
But the Prince pocketed the profits of the farm-and as a
subject of the realm he was bound, both by honor and law,
to pay his taxes. " The True British Farmer," as he affectedly styles himself, forgets the first principle which actuates
every honest tiller of the soil. He has but a poor conception of his assumed character of a farmer, when he knowingly sullies his honor. But is such miserable prevarica



152                ENGLISH ITEMS.
tion as Prince Albert's, worthy of a man who should give
tone to the most honorable circles of Great Britain? Is it
becoming in the first subject of a great kingdom, to set such
an example of defiance to the laws, in order to escape this
paltry tribute to a government which had shown such munificence towards him? And yet Prince Albert would be
foremost among his titled parasites, in railing at all those
who were endeavoring by honorable means to make a fortune. One might conclude from this brilliant evidence of
financial tact, that His Royal Highness was eminently
qualified for the lucrative and highly honorable office of
" Keeper of Her Majesty's privy purse." He certainly
displays the sordid wisdom of saving in a sufficient degree
to draw the purse-strings tightly enough. And as somebody must receive the salary of $10,000, I am somewhat
surprised, in remembering the acquisitive propensities of the
family, that so fat a sum should be allowed to pass into the
hands of strangers. The Royal consort seems troubled for
a want of something to do, notwithstanding his extremely
important functions at reviews and levees. The supervision
of that precious purse might have afforded him some healthier
mental occupation, than growing mammoth gooseberries, and
inventing bad hats. But I suppose it was considered unworthy of the dignity of His Royal Highness to write the
checks, which is the only duty which the keeper of the privy
purse is ever called on to perform. The notions of Englishmen on many subjects are peculiar; for instance-resorting to a m    subterfuge in order to save a few paltry
pounds of taxes 4+as not deemed unbecoming in the Royal
Drone. But the slightest blot of ink, acquired in so business an operation as writing checks, would have polluted
the immaculate purity of the Royal digits-and was not
therefore to be thought of. Such is the absurd superstition of Aristocracy in England.




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          153
After such developments, where is the toady so daringly
unscrupulous, as to express a doubt of Prince Albert's keen
appreciation of money?  An allusion to the Flemish farm
must silence the most brawling bigot of them all. Every
unprejudiced mind must be convinced that, although the
Prince speaks the English language with an accent, he is
too thoroughly English in his feelings, not tot be endued
with the national weakness for lucre.  How else can we account for his extraordinary course with regard to the farm?
I would not voluntarily ascribe to the Prince an excess of
wilful depravity.  I cannot believe that he refused to pay
his taxes, merely to enjoy the luxury of unparalleled baseness. Charity bids us to conclude, that he did not love
honor less, but money more.
But, after all, when we remember the mean state of dependence in which Prince Albert is kept by the nation, as
husband to their Queen, his reckless disregard of his reputation as a gentleman is, perhaps, more deserving of pity
than scorn.  Long-continued subjection, even to the thraldom of a petticoat, will in time destroy that proud feeling
of independence, and chivalric sense of honor, so essential
to manhood. Without duties or position-without honor or
consideration, except what he borrows from his wife —indebted even for what he eats, and what he wears, to her
bounty, it is not very extraordinary that His Royal Highness should be oppressed by a feeling of his own insignificance. A man should confer honor on his wife, as the sun
lends light to the moon-not borrow it from her. He cannot change positions with her without being degraded. He
loses all the dignity of his sex, when he sinks into the mere
husband of his wife. The silken collar of matrimony must
gall under such circumstances, and the necessity which compels any husband to wear it " cows within him the better part
of man." He at- once becomes as -contemptible in his own




154                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
eyes, as he appears despicable to other people. The sense
of degradation often urges men into excesses they might not
otherwise commit. The Prince may feel his humiliation
more keenly than is generally supposed. He may be less
anxious about the future opinions of the world, when he remembers what they must think of him now. He may be
desperate, from the consciousness that his present position
leaves him no honor to preserve. A debased spirit may
safely burrow in the sordid recesses of avarice.
It is true that the huge pyramid of despotism which
overshadowed Great Britain during the middle ages, has
long since been demolished. But its ruins are still thickly
strewn through her social condition. And in nothing can
its former vastness be so distinctly traced, as in that relic
of barbarism, ycleped the " Queen's Household." Although
these household positions have no longer attached to them
the magnificence which made them respectable, nor the duties
which rendered them necessary, yet their names and their
salaries are still preserved, at the same time, a mockery
and a burthen to the people. But the sovereign and the
nobility are solemnly lagued against their abolition. It is
snobbish in the monarch to be tickled by the names-it is
weak in the people to pay the salaries of these oppressive
sinecures.  The real object of their continuance appears to
be, to put money in the purses of the already enormously
rich aristocracy; and as, at the same time, the sovereign's
ideas of his own importance are comfortably inflated by the
presence of so many idle servants, the murmurs of the people
will avail little against such a combination of interests. It
is a condescension unworthy the theory of nobility, for its
members to accept positions which even in name are servile
-but how shall I describe the sordid instinct, which prompts
them to pocket the pitiful price of their dishonor?  These
salaries, although they must appear contemptible to them,




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           155
when compared with their own overgrown incomes, yet,
taken together, form a serious oppression to the people.
The aristocracy contend that this formidable array of
titled lackeys is necessary to sustain the dignity of the
crown.  But if they were sincerely solicitous about the
pomp of royalty, the absurd superstitions of rank in England would enable them, at the same time, to amuse the
monarch by the presence of these noble servitors, anc to
relieve the people from the expense of them. For the imaginary distinction arising from these hireling positions, the
advantages of being fed and lodged free of expense in the
palace, and of taking part in all the exclusive enjoyments
of the court, would create.among the highest nobility an
eager contest for their enjoyment, although no pay were
attached to them.  But the grasping greediness of "the
order " forbids so equable a compromise. Their Lordships
cannot occupy even honorary sinecures without a remuneration. They pocket;what not enriches them," but makes
the people " poor indeed."  The Marquis of Exeter receives.
as Lord Chamberlain, $10,000, and the Duke of Montrose
$10,000 more as Lord Steward.  The Earl of Jersey, as
Master of the Horse, pockets $12,500, and the Duchess of
Atholl, as the Mistress of the Robes, receives $2,500.
The venal eulogists of the British oligarchy must search
in vain, through their bulky annals, for a single example of
disinterested service to their country.  I fear eighteen more
centuries must elapse before a noble Englishman will be
found to imitate the magnanimity of our Republican Washington, in declining the emoluments of his office.  The refusal of money due him, even to win a name in history,
seems a sacrifice an Englishman is altogether unequal to.
Indeed, patriotism has become a profitable branch of trade
in England, in which many dabble on a small scale, and a
few are brilliantly successful. What bubble scheme, or rail



156                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
road speculation ever proved so profitable to their originators, as the patriotism of Marlborough, Nelson, and Wellington.  The profits of Law, or " Railroad King Hudson,"
were insignificant in comparison.,Besides the distinguished
patriots had divers and sundry monuments thrown in for
good conduct.  The royal family and the nobility have
always been eager to sustain a lofty pre-eminence in the
opinions of the people. It is alike their ambition and their
interest to appear the elect of God's anointed. To stalk
through life, as a superior race of superior beings, with superior instincts and propensities, is the difficult part they have
assumed. Is it to be presumed, then, that, with such aspirations, they would willingly betray to the multitude the
earthliest of earthly passions-a love of lucre?  A mountebank would as soon expose his tricks, or an impostor confess
his impositions. But their sordid inclinations have proved
more powerful than their solitary ambition to appear superior to their fellows. Mammon has shown himself stronger
than pride.
When we see the Queen violating the laws to protect
her privy purse, and the Prince consort stooping to dishonor to save his taxes-when we find their Lordships
scrambling for rich sinecures, and their honorable offspring
monopolizing all the most profitable positions in the army
and navy-when we know that the wealthiest nobles of the
country, in assuming menial positions, become indued with
a menial's weakness for wages, and take hire for idly loitering about the palace, it is but reasonable to conclude that
the English aristocracy are not wholly insensible to the
charms of money.
I believe that I have established the principle; for its
action'I refer my readers to the following extracts from
English papers:




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                157
THE ARISTOCRACY AND CAB-DRIVERS.-At the Marlborough-street
Court, on Tuesday, a cabman was fined 40s., for behaving with violence at the house of Sir R. Peel. The defendant wanted 2s. 4d. as his
fare for driving Sir Robert from the Brighton Railway to Pall-mall
(which must be three miles), while Sir Robert would only give him 2s.
The latter was said to be the legal fare.-At the same court, on Wednesday,* Earl Fitzhardinge summoned T. Jones, driver and proprietor of
a cab, for causing an obstruction in Davies-street, by loitering and wilful
misbehavior. His lordship complained that- the cab stood in the way
of his carriage, and that, though the driver had no fare, he (his lordship)
had to call out three times before the man would move. The driver
told the magistrate that he was at Chiswick at the time. The groom,
who confirmed Lord Fitzhardinge's statement throughout, when asked
the number of the cab, said it was 2,326. The defendant's number
being 2,336, the mistake was obvious. Earl Fitzhardinge said his impression was that the number of the cab was 2,336, but of course he
would not contend that he wyas not liable to mistake. The summons
was then dismissed.- TV News.
FRACAS.-At the Marylebone Police-court, yesterday, Major Cooke,
one of her Majesty's Gentlemen-at-Arms, was charged, before Mr. Long,
with illegally detaining an umbrella, the alleged property' of Dr. Preston, M. D. Both are members of the Army and Navy Club. Mr. Long
asked if the umbrella in question was produced, but was answered in
the negative. A gentleman, who attended for complainant, entered
into a statement of the facts, and, after proceeding for some time, Mr.
Long said the'simple question before him was, does Major Cooke detain
the umbrella or does he Irot? Cannot a matter like this be settled between two gentlemen without going any farther? Dr. Preston said,
on the 13th January last he missed his umbrella fi-om the outer hall of
the club-house, and saw no more of it until the 8th ult., when he saw
it in the same place where he had left it, and took possession of it. On
the same day, Major'Cooke came into the room where he was seated,
and claimed the umbrella as his, saying he had had it more than two
years. Major Cooke seized it out of his hand and broke it in two. The
value was 12s. After a deal of evidence, pro and con., had been gone
into respecting the identity of the umbrella, Mr. Long dismissed the
summons, and said he regretted it had been brought there.-Post.
When the wealthiest commoner in England sues a cabman




158                 ENGLISt ITEMS.
for fourpence, and one gentleman accuses another of stealing
his umbrella, and brings an action for the recovery of twelve
shillings, its reputed value, no one can doubt that the sordid
principle acts as smoothly as the American reaping machine.
It is a common habit with Englishmen to depreciate the
intelligence, and ridicule the manners of the Americans,
with whom chance brings them in contact, during their peregrinations in Europe, and the East. I rarely met with a
number of Galignani's Messenger in which I did not find
copied from English papers, some studied sneer at the ignorance and vulgarity of American travellers. They seemed
unable to understand how people, of the comparatively limited fortunes of the Americans, could be actuated by a desire to see the world. They deemed it a much higher evidence
of wisdom to remain quietly at home, and to spend their dollars in comfort and peace, than to go traipsing through strange
cities, and foreign lands. They appear to regard travelling
as one of the onerous necessities which pursue very rich
men; men whose incomes surpass the entire possessions of
our wealthiest citizens. Such principles were no doubt well
suited to the sordid disposition and sedentary habits of Englishmen, but they but ill accorded with the enlightened energy of Americans. I shall make no observations on the
character of travellers one meets from our own country; but
I beg the indulgence of my readers, while I give some of
my opinions and experience of the Englishmen I have met in
my wanderings.
An Englishman travels for no better reason than that
everybody does so. He visits the various capitals of Europe,
lounges through their picture galleries, and dozes over their
ruins, as he drags through the classics, and takes a degree
at college: his position in society demands it.  With him
travelling is a stupid duty. and not the highest of intellectual




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           159
pleasures; it is a necessary probation, which every Englishman of a certain degree of wealth is condemned to pass
through.  IHe submits to it as to any otherinexorable necessity, but manifests his dissatisfaction by grumbling sneers
at every thing, from Paris to Jerusalem. The French don't
know how to roast "a joint," their conceptions of wash-basins are altogether too contracted in Germany, he is fleeced
by rascally dragomen at Constantinople, and finds nothing
but fleas and discomfort in the Holy Land. He solemnly
protests that he has seen nothing that it was possible for him
to eat, since he left England; and yet he retains his scarlet
hues, and corpulent tendencies, in a manner wonderfully
mysterious, if we believe he has lived on air. In his accustomed potations of malt liquors, he is more fortunate, as his
bullying complaints and noisy censure have stocked every
hotel in the East with stale ale and muddy porter.
He penetrates the parched depths of the desert to boast
of having ridden a camel, and makes pilgrimages to the holiest spots, merely for the gratification of declaring his belief that they are not those which are designated in the
Scriptures.  It is Jashionable in England to be skeptical
about sacred localities! He discredits the wonderful events
which attended the exodus of the Jews from  Egypt.  He
coolly argues the impossibility of the Children of Israel
passing through the bed of the Red Sea on dry land, and
ridicules the idea of Moses' sweetening the waters of the
bitter well of Alarahb amidst the very scenes which witnessed the accomplishment of these miracles.  He journeys to
Mount Sinai to sneer, and enters the Holy Land with no holier motive than prompted young Sheridan to descend the
coal-pit: merely to say he had been there.  In a spot where
I had thought that disbelief would be awed. and even blasphemy silent, in the sacred grotto of Bethlehem, I have heard an
Englishman utter rude and indecent jests about the Virgin




160                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
and her child. I was not surprised that he went to Jerusalem, a confirmed follower of that reverend apostate, Clarke,
who has attemnted to derange all the received opinions, as
to the scenes connected with the crucifixion and burial of
our Saviour. If he sincerely believed that the spots, which
have for more than a thousand years excited the religious
enthusiasm, and received the pious adoration of pilgrims of
every sect, were in no way connected with the death of Jesus, then it was less impious for him to scoff whilst standing
on Calvary, and to laugh within the site of the Holy Sepulchre.
What shall we say of the sacrilegious attempt of that
worse than infidel to profane the Holy Places of our Faith?
Though they might not have been what they are believed to
be, it was an inhuman deed to destroy so pure a superstition-they should have been sacred as symbols of our
religion, which the common consent of fifteen centuries has regarded as holy. Although Mr. Clarke had possessed positive
proofs of their not being the scenes of our Saviour's death and
burial, yet had he been as pious as he was desirous to appear
learned, he would have spared them. Time and association
have united in making them the most impressive emblems
of the events they are designed to commemorate, and a sincere Christian could never have assailed their sanctity.  Is
the Lord's Supper to be considered as a less solemn rite of
Christianity, because it is but the simple commemoration of
His death? Are the wine and bread to be regarded as less
holy, because they are not actually His blood and body?
But the reverend Mr. Clarke was not satisfied with demolishing that beauteous structure, which the faith of fifteen
hundred years had been building up. His ambition aspired
to the distinction of a theory of his own. He made himself absurd by professing, after all the changes which time,
and the different wars and dynasties, must have produced
in the Holy City, to possess advantages for determining the




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          161
sacred localities, very far superior to those enjoyed by St.
Helena fifteen hundred years before. He did not simply
deny the identity of the Holy Places, but had; the audacity
to select localities of his own.  It would be difficult to discover so extraordinary a combination of folly, vanity, and
sacrilege, as that presented by this pedantic divine. A monster so atrocious could only have been a Goth or an Englishman.
As our English acquaintance was an avowed disciple of
Mr. Clarke, though he was a man of wealth and consideration at home-he was remotely and mysteriously connected
with the Duke of Wellington-it was not surprising that he
was not much impressed by a visit to the church of the Holy
Sepulchre. But it is a little singular that the consciousness
of being in Jerusalem, the unmistakable witness of so many
extraordinary events, did not afford him some more appropriate topics of conversation than insipid anecdotes of the
English nobility and wearisome complaints of the hotel-its
servants and its fare. He went every where, and apparently
saw every thing, but as an evidence of how slightly he could
have been interested in the sacred objects around him, he
had been eight days in Jerusalem, and his trunks were
packed for his departure the next morning, but he was not
positive as to the location of the Mount of Olives. He often
wondered at his own folly in venturing into a country where
there was so much discomfort —where there was positively
nothing to see and not much to eat. He candidly acknowledged, that hearing so many of his acquaintances boast of
visiting Jerusalem, had betrayed him into the weakness of
wishing to say that he had been there too. But that if he
could be forgiven for his rashness in'coming once, that he hoped
some terrible calamity might befall him if he was ever caught
east of Paris again. He never ventured on his impressions
of what he visited, but once, when after his return from a




162                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
visit to the river Jordan and the Dead Sea, he thought he
had passed some place famous for some battle, he did not
precisely know which, but he rather thought it was neaf the
brook from which David took the pebbles to slay Goliath.
And yet every body who had ever visited Syria, or read the
briefest account of the country, ought to have known that the
identical brook was in exactly the opposite direction.  At
parting, he was peculiarly considerate in his admonitions,
and most earnestly insisted on our visiting Mount Carmel.
" Omit what you like besides, but you must go there."
"For," said he-and I waited, with breathless anxiety, a
burst of enthusiasm about the desolate grandeur and religious
associations of the place-" For," repeated he, "the only
tolerable dinner I have had since I have been in Syria, was
at the convent of Mount Carmel." Shade of Elijah hear
him! He had stood upon the sacred summit of Sinai-had
ascended Mount Carmel-wandered along the banks of the
stormy Jordan-visited Bethlehem-and was then in Jerusalem-and the only treasured recollection he was carrying
away with him from the Holy Land, was that of having enjoyed a passable dinner at Mount Carmel.  The celebrated
John Hunter stated, as a curious fact, that the jawbone
always predominated in proportion to the absence of brains.
As this was a scientific observation of the learned gentleman,
it ought not to be wondered at, that the only thing in Syria
which our Englishman was able to appreciate, was the fare
at the Convent of Carmel.
In mentioning the name of Greece, I feel a momentary
forgetfulness of the sterile subject I have selected for my
book.  I no longer remember either Englishmen or their
country. The name of Greece recalls to me countless joyous
memories and delicious associations.  The season in which
I visited it makes nature in any form enchanting. It was
in early Spring, when the year is too young to know aught




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else but gladness and sunshine: when the verdure is all
freshness, the flowers are all beauty, and the birds all song.
I had never known before the pain of feeling all a poet's
longings, without the genius to embody them into words.
The torrents from  Helicon and Parnassus were full, and
foamed furiously by. Every plain was dotted with flowers:
every bush had its nightingale. A visit to Greece had been
a pet dream since my boyhood. But its associations, its
ruins and its battle-fields were what I thought would charm
me.  I was not prepared for the rare beauty of scenery
which greeted me. Its storied mountains, where -the Muses
wandered and Apollo sung, with their beetling crags and
crowning firs, possessed all the wildness and' picturesque
beauty that Switzerland boasts. Its classic vales and immortal battle-fields, of which I had read earliest, and dreamed
most, were strewn with wild flowers —so fair, so frail, so varied, that the Muses might have discarded their laurel to
have garlanded their tresses with such loveliness.  And
then the music of the nightingale! But how shall I describe what is indescribable? All the glowing enthusiasm
of Oriental romance; all that I had ever read of his poetic
loves with the rose; all that I had ever dreamed of the
music of " bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair," which
"makes heaven drowsy with the harmony," had given me
no conception of the melody of the nightingale's song; and,
when heard for the first time in Greece, by the side of a
waterfall, with the beams of the full moon dancing in the
spray, it afforded a ravishing delight I had never known before, and fear I shall never know again.
In Athens I met a couple of Englishmen, who proposed
to join my party. As I was entirely alone, I, of course;
consented, and we commenced a journey into the country
together. I was somewhat shocked, in the beginning, by
one of the gentlemen, who, in. gazing for the last time upon




164                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
the Acropolis, crowned with the shattered glories of the
Parthenon, could give utterance to no less commonplace observation, than that Athens reminded him very much of
"Edenboro'."  But we jogged sociably on among classic
ruins, glorious battle-fields, and sacred mountains, and paused
at Helicon. I jumped from my horse, and eagerly traced
Hippocrene's murmuring rill to its source. I could almost
see the mark of Pegasus' fiery hoof, when, in stamping, he
had called the bubbling fountain up. I could hear the minstrelsy of the tuneful nine in the warbling of every bird that
twittered by. I could almost imagine that I saw Euterpe's
laughing face peeping from behind a rock. The silence, the
grandeur, and the associations of the spot seemed only suggestive to the Englishmen that "it would be a capital place
to take lunch! "  True votaries of Silenus, they could not
forego their orgies here, but drank porter and discussed
sandwiches as complacently in the favorite haunt of the
Muses as if they had been seated in a London tavern.
I could forgive them for a want of enthusiasm, for I had
seen too much of Englishmen to expect from them any
great demonstration of sensibility. But, however much I
might feel inclined to be lenient, I could not readily forget
a degree of ignorance of the common history of Greece that
would have subjected the dunce of a country school to a
posterior application of birch. It seems almost incredible
that men of any nation, who had arrived at the years of
discretion, should have been so lamentably deficient in such
ordinary knowledge.  They thought that the battles of
Marathon and Salamis had been fought on the same day.
Hadn't the remotest idea who were engaged in the battle
of Leuctra, but had a deep-rooted conviction that the Persians were in no way connected with Plataea.  They went
to Parnassus to see sights, and had a very vague impression
as to what Delphi was celebrated for. But there was one




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           165
subject on which they seemed profoundly learned: it was
the highly interesting subject of "stinks."'Tis their own
generic term; and, if I write my annals true, I feel compelled
to use their very words, although, I confess, I do so in violation of my own ideas of propriety. I beg the indulgence
of those whofeel like myself on this subject, for I am conscious that in illustrating the proneness of the English to
vulgarity, I may myself appear guilty.  Although these
classical gentlemen entertained for the whole genus of bad
odors the antipathy shared by humanity in general, yet they
would nose them out, trace them to their origin, and classify
them under their particular heads, with an avidity that was
quite surprising. Their animosity for stinks, like that of
terrier dogs for rats, prompted them to run down, and, if
possible, catch every unfortunate of the species that happened
to cross their path; and it really appeared to afford them
the intensest satisfaction to determine whether their latest
capture could be most properly placed in the positive, the
comparative, or superlative degree of stinks.  They were
eternally going out of their way to stumble upon something
"rotten," and were much given  to having uncommonly
"nasty" feelings even at meal times.  The weather, according to their report, was frequently " funky;" the houses we'were compelled to occupy were always "filthy;" and the
fare was positively "beastly."
Englishmen pride themselves extremely on the off-hand
frankness with which they always give things their right
names. Those, whose associations with these people have
forced them to hear such expressions as those quoted above,
must feel thoroughly convinced of their strict adherence to the
rule.  Though I must confess that I think an occasional departure from it would be desirable, for the sake of delicacy,
if not decency.  The English ridicule Americans for their
-excessive particularity in avoiding offensive expressions. All




166                 ENGLISII ITEMS.
must agree, however, that it is better to err on our side, than
their own. We had better be over nice, than generally use,
as the English do, such terms as I have felt compelled to
disfigure my pages with, which ordinary refinement should
banish from the conversation of every gentleman. I would
advise the English to use expletives, even with the danger of
being diffuse, rather than be so blunt, and so vulgar.
I am surprised that men, who had forgotten, or even
never known the history of Greece, could have traversed its
sacred soil, without becoming familiar with those brilliant
events which have made her heroism a proverb. It is wonderful that men even of the most ordinary attainments could
wander amidst "scenes that our earliest dreams have dwelt
upon," so utterly ignorant of "man's divinest lore."  But
wonder becomes amazement, when I remember that these
gentlemen, with whom I travelled, were a Fellow in Oxford
University, and a Captain in Her Majesty's service. Although they might have forgotten, since there boyish days,
much of Greece's history, yet it does seem strange that in
visiting the country, they should have been too indolent to
refresh their memories, more especially as they had one of
John Murray's Red Books between them. It seems to me
that Greece and her annals should possess a peculiar charm
for the scholar, and the soldier.  The precepts of her sages
and beauties of her poets are as valuable to one, as the
stories of her valiant sons should be interesting to the other.
But how could an Englishman read even Murray, whilst he
carried a bottle of porter in his saddle-bags, and sandwiches
in his pockets?
National pride in Byron should have made them more
familiar with his favorite Greece. I had myself traced the
noble pilgrim through many wild and beautiful scenes. I
had read his eloquent bursts of emotion, upon the classic
spots which called them forth, and admired them more, be



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          167
cause they had inspired such a mind. I could not forgive,
there, his stockish countrymen, for their insensibility to both.
But an ignorance of Byron is deemed becoming in the more
exemplary members of society in England. It has become
as fashionable to disparage his genius, as it was formerly to
traduce his character. They have toppled him down from
the niche which should have been sacred to him in the admiration of his countrymen, and are laboring to lift Mr.
Alfred Tennyson into his place.  Byron and Tennyson!
What an unholy alliance of names! What sinful juxtaposition! He who could seriously compare the insipid effusions of Mr. Tennyson, with the mighty genius of Byron,
might commit the sacrilege of likening the tricks of Professor Anderson to the miracles of our Saviour.
Most men have their peculiarities, and many their
weaknesses. Our English scholar's particular passion was
water-cresses.  He was great on experimental consultation,
and made it a rule never to put a question directly. He
grew tired, and wished to turn back. He wondered interrogatively what there was to be seen at Parnassus; and when
informed there was the view from the summit of the mountain, the grot of Apollo, and the ruins of the temple of the
oracle at Delphi, he sorrowfully expressed his conviction
that, after all the " bother," it wouldn't pay. But when the
dragoman vaguely intimated that the finest water-cresses in
the world grew in the immediate vicinity, he not only appeared consoled for the necessary fatigue, but even manifested an unwonted alacrity towards the end of the journey.
Every breeze that breathed from the snow-clad peak of Parnassus, came laden to him with the refreshing odors of watercresses. There seemed to be renovating influences in every
whiff. As we advanced, his grim looks of dissatisfaction became more and more relaxed; and, on our arrival, he had
not only succeeded in getting up a much better appetite than




168                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
his ordinarily remarkably healthy one, but he found himself
in a much happier frame of mind than common for the enjoyment of the lions of the place. A messenger was instantly,
dispatched for his favorite dish. He had cresses for dinner,
cresses for supper, and cresses the next morning for breakfast; and, issuing forth under their mollifying influence, he
seemed relieved from the harassing suspicion that, in coming
to Parnassus, he had been the victim of "a regular sell."
He rather thought that the temple " would do," and that the
grotto " was not so bad;" but he had seen much finer views
from Scawfell Pike, which he kindly informed me was the
highest mountain in England, than from the top of Mount
Parnassus. Oh, vanity and water-cresses! Absurdity and
Englishlmen! It seemed nothing to him to be where Apollo
dwelt, and Byron had been. But in our ascent he alarmed
me by expressing a distressing apprehension of being about
to " funk." This mysterious intimation was more startling,
as I was altogether ignorant of what terrible consequences
might result from the unknown process of "funking."  I
was as much relieved as himself when he stopped at the
grot, to be informed that "funking" was the briefly elegant
acceptation of the word giving out. He did nothing during
our entire stay on the mountain, but complain of great shortness of breath, and weariness of limbs. He blamed every
body for inducing him to start, and could discover nothing
to compensate him for such labor. He did not seem aware
that even then nymphs, and fauns, and Pan with his satyrs
might be frolicking along the banks of the brawling brook
that dashed across our path. He never suspected that the
Muses were timorously hiding in that leafy covert; and did
not once hear the notes of Apollo's lyre mingling with the sighs
of the moaning firs. But he was somewhat consoled on reaching the top, by disparaging Parnassus to praise Scawfell Pike.
An Englishman seems never convinced that there is any thing




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           169
out of England equal to what he boasts of in it. He will
prefer an English mill-dam to Niagara, and compare one of
our great Northern Lakes to some nobleman's fish-pond.
It is a favorite amusement of Englishmen to enlarge
upon the peculiarities of our nasal twang, and to enumerate
Dour " provincialisms." Because we have not imitated them,
in the abuses of the language, into which vulgarity has betrayed them, we are pronounced guilty of " provincialisms."
In alluding to the corrections we have made, of their own
glaring improprieties of speech, they seem to forget that
America is no longer a province.
In their attempts to be merry at our expense, they appear
wholly oblivious of  that hextraordinary'abit of a vast majority of cockneys, of always making the hA silent, and aspirating the vowels in the beginning of a word. On which of
our remotest frontiers could they discover such an unpardonable violation of good grammar and good taste? Yet
this habit of dropping, and adding the A, is universal among
the lower and middle orders, from London to Wales, and is
very prevalent among the highest and most polished. But
whilst we are on the subject of " provincialisms." what shall
we say of the heathenish dialects of several different shires
in England, which neither Christians nor Englishmen, out of
their particular counties, could pretend to understand?
Where will they look for such in America?  We may add
to the significations of the words clever and smart, but it
seems to me that the great national right, which permitted
England to form her remarkable compound of Saxon and
Norman-French, might confer on us the privilege of extending the acceptation of a few unimportant words. Even in
our most figurative meaning of the word smart, we make a
near approach to its original signification; how do the English force it into conveying an idea of showy, flashy dress?




170                 ENGLISII ITEMS.
But we often adhere to the strictly proper acceptation of a
word, whilst they arbitrarily depart from it.  Plain means,
according to Johnson, simple, unadorned, and not tzgly as
the English would have it, in applying the term to women.
Stout, if we can believe the same authority, signifies strong,
brave, lusty, and notfat, as the English generally use it.
But of whatever indiscretions of speech we may be4
guilty, we are certainly saved the mortification of the insufferable vulgarity of applying the chaste term beautiful to
greasy articles of food.  This is a distinction reserved in
undivided glory, for the most enlightened nation of the nineteenth century.  "Beautiful mutton!"  "Beautiful potatoes! " Ugh how shockingly disgusting! Who but a cannibal or an Englishman could discover any thing of the beautiful about what he had to eat? I can imagine an epicure
of the Tongo islands remarking to a sympathizing friend,
when some fair shipwrecked damsel had fallen into his hands,
that she would make a" beautiful roast," but it requires the
refined perceptions of an Englishman to appreciate the beauties of a cabbage-head. As my learned companion in
Greece is an especial favorite of mine, I hope I shall be excused for again introducing him for the sake of illustration.
The only wild bursts of enthusiasm into which he was ever
betrayed, from " Sunium's marbled height " to the immortal
pass of Thermopylh, was whilst ogling a dish of " beautiful
water-cresses." His soft, susceptible heart daily succumbed
to an ecstasy of excitement, before a brilliantly green plate of
his favorite salad. If there ever was an occasion when this
excitement ceased to be utterly ridiculous, it was at Parnassus.  For these were classic cresses.  They had been culled
on the poetical borders of the Castalian fountain. They had
sprung from' holy, haunted ground."  Protected by the shadow of Parnassus, and nurtured by the waters of the immortal
brook, they might have borne about them. for aught I know,




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           171
something of that poetical inspiration, anciently attributed
to the fountain. They certainly possessed an interest for
me from the charm  of association; and I pressed in my
pocket edition of Childe Harold a few leaves, as a memento
of Apollo's favorite haunt. But they were cresses still!
And how the Englishman could apply the term " beautiful"
to them, as a wholesome and palatable vegetable, I cannot
pretend to understand.
In America we conceive the highest evidences of beauty
to be afforded by women and flowers; but Englishmen, more
discriminating, chiefly delight in " beautiful roast-beef " and
" beautiful porter." There is no accounting for tastes in
this world, and an Englishman may really discover more
personal charms, if I might use the expression, about a fat
sirloin of beef, than in the loveliest woman. But in applying the term " beautiful " to beef and porter, he means not
so much to intimate that they are pleasing to the eye, as
that they are deliciously titillating to the palate.  In this
the extreme grossness of the impropriety consists.
Although I have acquitted the more refined and better
educated people of Great Britain of being universally guilty
of the vulgar liberties the middle classes take with the h,
yet the disposition to indulge in them is very decided, in
even the highest in London, and this habit, illiterate as it is,
prevails very commonly in all the provincial towns. The
most elegant and refined talk constantly of "fried'am." although they are not often guilty of the atrocity of adding
"the heggs."  They sentimentally insist that "there is no
place like'ome," and always salute a friend with "'ow d'ye
do."  They compliment a lady as being very "'andsome;"
they invariably commence a question of time by "wen," and
fearfully transform the simple relative pronoun into a " wich. "
These are but a few examples of the propensity of the most
refined people of England to hadopt the general custom.




1'72                ENGLISH ITEMS.
They seem very reluctant to hacknowledge this peculiarly
hexceptionable'abit, and hinsist that hit his confined to the
low and hignorant of the country. But it is universal among
educated people, whose wealth far surpasses that of our richest citizens, and it is not at all uncommon among the highest
and most polished circles. We don't haspirate our vowels
in America. Turn your heyes hon this picture and hon
that.
In a couplet of Ben Jonson, which I am sorry not to
be able to recall, Thames is made to rhyme to James, showing that in those good old times the name of the river was
pronounced as a Christian or a reasonable man would pronounce it now, instead of vulgarly mincing it into "Tems,"
as the present race of Englishmen do. They say Wool'ich
and Green'ich, when they mean Woolwich and Greenwich.
They metamorphose Alnwick into An'ick and Warwick into
War'ick. The mighty " King-maker" is divested of a portion of his dignity, and "the Last of the Barons " loses some
of his grandeur, when we hear him called the great Earl of
War'ick. The abominable abbreviation smacks too strongly
of cockneyism and smells of the ale-house. It is opposed
in sound, as in association, to all our preconceived notions of
the valiant Guy. The famous race of England is always
spoken of as "the Darby." But the Earl of Derby, although
in his ministerial relations he has been supposed to bear very
close analogy to an old woman, has scarcely deserved of his
countrymen to have his melodious title changed into such a
sobriquet as Darby.
How can they force stone into "stun?"  In this instance
they are not satisfied with arbitrarily interfering with weights
and measures, but do violence to all the ordinary rules of
pronunciation, with "stun."  They had much better pronounce it ton at once, more especially as this standard would
be infinitely more convenient for determining the gross weight




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          173
of Englishmen than either pounds or stone. But it seems
the British nation are sensitive on the score of weight. In
opposition, therefore, to every other nation in the world, they
have adopted a stone instead of a pound, as the unit in ascertaining the gravity of British flesh and blood. To unsophisticated ears, 21 stone, 6 pounds, sounds infinitely less
than three hundred pounds, which weight is a fair average
of the avoirdupois density of the Sir Tunbelly Clumsies of
the middle and upper classes. By the term "stun" they
may possibly intend remotely to allude to the inevitable fate
of any unfortunate person upon whom one of the heavyocracy might chance to fall. The crushed individual would most
certainly be stunned, though the ponderous cause of the disaster could scarcely be called, in strict accordance with the
English cant phrase, "a stunner." "A stunner" is generally supposed in England to be a gentleman: briskly astounding, rather than personally influential, from weighty considerations.
It is not surprising that an Englishman should assume
the comfortable rotundity of a homemade loaf of bread,
when it is remembered that few hops are requisite to make
the latter "rise," and how much of the puffing ingredient the
former consumes in the shape of malt liquors. In 1850 the
crop of hops in England reached 48,537,669 lbs., which are
capable of producing 24,268,834 barrels of beer. I will
take the liberty of stating, as a matter of curiosity, the dimensions of a single brewery, that of Perkins & Co., the
famous brewers of London. This vast establishment occupies some twelve acres of ground. There are employed between 450 and 500 men, whose burly forms and crimson and
unctuous visages make each one a striking impersonation of
John Barleycorn. There are 160 of those huge horses, whose
ponderous proportions and great height seem the magic result of a mysterious cross between a giraffe and hippopota



174                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
mus. There is a copper for steaming the malt capable of
containing 400 barrels. There is a gigantic vat for final deposit of the liquor before it is drawn into barrels, whose
wonderful capacity is 3500 barrels, and another of 1500.
The quantity of malt annually consumed is 127,000 quarters,
which will produce 317,500 barrels of beer. Quite a lively
business, considering the amount of fermentation which must
take place.
There is no one of our Americanisms at which Englishmen
more frequently sneer, than the application of the name of
"cars" to Railroad conveyances.  They use the term "carriages." Grammar after all is but an arrangement of rules,
which the general custom of the most intellectual authorities
has declared to be proper. A Railroad was a new mode of
transport, and naturally demanded some new name for its
means of conveyance.  Car was a word rarely if ever used
in America, though it designates a species of wagon in England; and I think that both good taste and good sense
would give the preference to its use, in connection with Railroads, rather than multiply to a mystifying extent the signification of the word carriage. Both cars and carriages have
wheels, in common with the conveyances for passengers attached to locomotives-and as car was a word not in use
with us, and carriage was already loaded with such general
and various significations, I think that reason sustains us in
the adoption of the former, though we possessed the right
to assign, with perfect propriety, any name to the new mode
of travelling, which general custom might have adopted.
We can surely manufacture our own names, however many
importations we are compelled to make from England. But
Englishmen seem to insist upon denying us the privilege of
travelling in "the cars" since they always go "by rail."
Although " riding on a rail" is a mode of transport sometimes adopted on extraordinary occasions in America; yet




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           175
its not being generally deemed the most reputable conveyance in the world is, I think, a sufficient reason for the adoption of some other term for Railroad travelling.
Among the standing heads for chapters, under which
every English writer feels it incumbent on him to grow
wordy and indignant, the dangers of our Steamboat navigation occupy a prominent position. All the flaming accounts
of the accidents occurring on our Western waters, are
eagerly collected by the touring English in Arzerica, and,
after being properly colored to suit the taste of the market,
they make up an important chapter for the forthcoming
"book," which is the inevitable result of an Englishman's
crossing the Atlantic.  The best evidence of England's bitter hatred of America is her insatiable taste for slanderous
productions on this country.  The same complaints are
repeated-the spitting-the same vulgarity-the same Lynch
Law-and Steamboat catastrophes-are reproduced again
and again, under new names and different colored binding,
and yet the demand is always brisk for these villainous compilations.
Explosions of boilers-sinking from  being snaggedburnings and collisions, are all joyously heralded, with terrible minuteness, by these English commentators on America.
The frequency of such occurrences is adduced as convincing
proof of the reckless disregard for life, and utter incapability
of all grades of officials in America. It is true, that Steamboat accidents are extremely rare in England, for their
boasted " Tems" would scarcely float a large-sized yawl, except when it is floated, as high as London, by the tide. Such
limited aquatic facilities are certainly the safest protection
against the frightful accidents, which have.rendered the
Mississippi so terrible to Englishmen.  The great Father of
Waters hurls his rushing current along a distance of 2800




176                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
miles, whilst the Missouri, with its junction to the Mississippi, measures 4100 miles, the longest river in the world.
But the famous " Tems," with all its advantages of tide,
locks, and dams, creeps but 233 miles to the sea.
But although there exists this almost impossibility
against Steamboat accidents, yet never a week, and scarcely
a day passes, without the announcement of one or more
serious Railroad disasters. I will not crowd my pages with
extracts from London papers in support of what I say, but
I appeal to the habitual readers of the English journals, for
the truth of my assertion. I have observed in the papers of
the same morning notices of three different Railroad casualties. But Englishmen boast that the sufferers, on such occasions, are always amply remunerated for the injuries they
may have sustained. It is true, that an accident rarely occurs, without the formality of a lawsuit, and that damages
are almost universally recovered from the delinquent company. This may be all very well, after the mischief is done,
but in most countries the remedy applied would be thought
to come rather late. Who btt an Englishman could be
consoled for the loss of a near relation, by the receipt of a
sum of money, which a jury had decided to be the equivalent
of his intrinsic value whilst he lived? Who but an Englishman would be satisfied to compound for the loss of a
limb, in shillings and pence?  Money appears the panacea
for every ill in England. It is applied with equal effect to
bruised affections, and broken legs. So deliciously does this
universal remedy act upon every patient, that the lucky individual is eagerly heralded in the newspapers, as a fit subject for congratulation, who can ascribe to some erratic locomotive a demolished parent, or pulverized limb. If a man
should be unfortunate in his domestic relations, or receive a
horsewhipping-they pay him: money being considered a
salve, healing alike to wounded honor, and a smarting back.




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           177
If a young woman loses her reputation by slander, or a
husband by ": breach of promise," they hasten to pay her for
the loss of both: money being deemed, in England, a desirable substitute for those two possessions, which are usually
supposed to be absolutely essential to the happiness of the
sex.  But it is useless to multiply examples.  It is a wellapproved fact, that Englishmen have no $rows that money
cannot soothe.,"
Englishmen are stanch supporters. of the principle that
"vulgarity and rudeness " are the necessary consequences of
"free and  enlightened Republicanism."  They may say
what they like of the barbarous influence of mingling all
classes in America, but a Republic is the only school for
rearing gentlemen among the people. When there is a
marked and inexorable distinction of classes, those beneath
experience, in spite of themselves, a feeling of degradation,
which produces a thousand little meannesses, inconsistent
with the high-toned feelings of a gentleman. But where
there is no social inequality, Democracy leaves room for the
expansion of those principles, which, however rough a man's
exterior may be, make him a gentleman in feeling and
action. A proper pride is the first element of true gentility,
and where there is no prescribed disability in the lowest to
associate with the highest, this pride of independence produces a feeling of refinement, a regard for themselves; which
very naturally produces a regard for other people.  There is
no danger of any brutal manifestation of disrespect towards
those whose age, whose intellect, or whose wealth have placed
them in superior positions. A man, who is perfectly assured
of the equality of his rights with the highest, experiences no
vulgar ambition to make an unbecoming display of them.
The self-respect which arises from his position, teaches him
that rudeness to those above him would be much mnore deS*




178                 ENGLISHI ITEMS.
grading to him, than it could possibly be to them. A man
whose finer feelings are crushed by the consciousness of inferiority; who is compelled to submit to the insolence of
purse-proud superiors, can have no self-respect; and in his
debasement he is actuated by a mean desire to vent upon
those beneath him the insulting injuries he has himself
received. The m6re humbly he is forced to cringe to those
whom the laws have made his masters, the more cruelly will
he be avenged on those whom fortune has placed below
him. The loss of independence, which makes him servile,
makes him rude. Servility is as unbecoming as rudeness,
in a gentleman. But so long as the present legal differences
in the grades of society are maintained in England, her
entire population must continue both obsequious and brutal. The 26,999,570 of the people must be basely submissive to the nobility, and the 430 titles must meanly cringe
to the crown.
It has long been a subject of mysterious interest to me,
to ascertain what peculiar qualifications conferred on a man
in England the title of gentleman.  Whether a certain
amount of refinement, of fortune, of education, or noble blood
were requisite, I never could satisfactorily determine. After
much laborious research in books, and patient comparison of
the various persons to whom this enigmatical title had been applied by Englishmen themselves, I have concluded that an
English gentleman signifies any idle individual, who has
inherited from his father or some other hard-working ancestor, fortune sufficient to live without active occupation.  To
be rich, and to do nothing, constitute an Englishman's somewhat contracted ideas of gentility.
This gentlemanly idleness of the so-called aristocracy, is
an unnatural state of existence, which cannot subsist long
without injury both to the individual himself, and the society
in which he lives.  Go back to the first gentleman. Adam in




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.            179
the garden.  The experiment of idleness was satisfactorily
tried there, and was found impracticable. Does any one imagine that the forbidden fruit would ever have been tasted,
if Adam had been daily occupied in tilling the earth, and
Eve, like a good housewife, in darning fig-leaf aprons for her
husband and herself?  Never.  It was her utter idleness,
which afforded the serpent an opportunity of using his guile,
it was idleness which left room for his cunning suggestions
to grow into uncontrollable curiosity. Had the lady mother
of mankind been actively engaged in some domestic occupation, she would have had no time to listen to the serpent's
wiles, much less to try afterwards the experiment he had
suggested. This whole system of gentility is faulty. It is
founded in error, and can never come to good. To make
idleness, that, fruitful source of every evil, the test of aristocracy, and yet contend that this unjust system is not ruinous to the nation in which it exists, is worse than folly. The
condition of England is the happiest commentary upon this
absurd despotism of fashion. " It is stated in the London
Times, that, upon an average, one person out of twenty of this
luxurious metropolis is every day destitute of food and eml
ployment, and every night without place for shelter or repose.
It is a lamentable fact that in this town of London alone,
the centre and core of British civilization, one hundred thousand persons are every day without food, save it be the precarious produce of a passing job, or crime."
The fortunate individual who is rich enough to live without labor in England, might be a blackguard, a fool, or a
puppy, or all three at once, yet he would nevertheless be a
gentleman, and could command, accordingly, the too ready
deference of the money-ridden vassals of Great Britain. No
refinement of manners, or cultivation of mind, are required
to sustain his pretensions; no elegant accomplishments are
expected of him  it is not even thought necessary that lie




180                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
should twirl his thumbs gracefully during his very many hours
of unemployed leisure; but he must " box well," and "ride
boldly," he must be able to " thrash the waterman," and to
" take a five-barred gate " at top speed. Idleness is deemed his
chiefest virtue, and ridiculous self-conceit, and brutal effrontery, are considered the most unimpeachable evidences of his
gentility. An attorney or a surgeon are considered members
of honorable professions: a banker or a merchant command
high respect in society, but it would be deemed a shocking
misapplication of terms, to speak of any of them as gentlemen.
How very different are our ideas in America of a gentleman.  If I were called on here to give an American definition of a gentleman, I should say that he was a man easy,
but unobtrusive in his manners, who never did any thing to
offend the taste of the most refined, or wound the feelings of
t[h most sensitive; and who possessed withal an income, sufficient to dress neatly, and indulge the simple habits of a man
of cultivation. He should be modest without bashfulness, and
firm, without an affectation of pugnacity.  He ought never
to attempt to attract attention by noise, or arrogance, nor
should he allow any one to treat him in a manner which
approched indignity.  But let him be cool and civil under
-all circumstances.  He should never be betrayed into any
-thing like a display of temper; there are much more effectual modes of manifesting spirit than in bullying. A woman might treat him in a manner to prevent his ever
approaching her again, and a man might insult him so as to
make it necessary to call him to an account, but he ought
never to gratify either, by allowing them to think that they
were capable of exciting a feeling of anger in his breast. He
should be above such petty manifestations of weakness, as
he should avoid such an acknowledgment to them, that they
were of sufficient importance to disturb his equanimity.




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          181
Determination is stronger when cool, as the blade is keener
from being polished. Above all, let him never condescend
to bandy words with a woman. Her sex should be her protection even from attacks of his tongue. It is much more to
his honor to maintain a dignified silence under the fiercest
feminine assaults, than to elevate a shrewish woman into an
equality with himself, by replying to her rudeness. He
ought to be polite to her as long as he is in her presence,
though he might avoid all repetition of the affront for the
future. He ought to touch his hat to his opponent, with
whom he was about to engage in mortal combat. He should
be much more punctilious in his observance of etiquette
with those whom he did not like, than with his friends.
There is no surer way of keeping a man at a distance, than
to treat him with studied civility. But I have allowed myself to say much more than I intended in alluding to this
subject. The great animating principle of genuine gentility,
is a delicate regard for the feelings of other people. Let a
man remember this, and preserve his own self-respect, and
he will be very certain never to do any thing unworthy of a
gentleman. A refined perception of what would be disagreeable to his neighbors, will always prevent his being either
coarse or rude in his manners; and he should'not allow
even a desire to appear witty, to betray him into a forgetfulness of the feelings of others, which would be munch'more unbecoming to him, than it could possibly be cutting to them.
Politeness is deemed lessening to the position of a gentleman in England; in America it is thought his proudest
ornament. Englishmen say that we use " sir " too frequently
in addressing our equals-to whom should we use it if not to
them?  The Englishman will reply to the civil question of
a comparative stranger with rude abruptness, but should a
nobleman chance to address him, "my Lord," or "your
Grace," not only thickly garnishes all he replies, but smooth



182                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
ly rounds off the end of every sentence. Their excessive
repetition becomes both absurd and disgusting. But it would
be thought a want of self-respect in him to introduce " Sir "
once, in answer to a man whose position did not look down
upon his own. Yet the English declare that they so belabor the nobility with their titles, because it is polite.
Their civility loses its rarest charm in ceasing to be voluntary; and their politeness becomes servility in making abject
submission to a superior. Their truckling deference to
nobles is a base acknowledgment of inferiority, and not that
free, high-toned feeling, which produces a respect for the
feelings of others; nor that generous affability of disposition which begets the desire to be agreeable.  A  man,
actuated by the proper feelings of a gentleman, would be
much more observant of his conduct towards equals, and inferiors, than towards those whose position commanded his
respect; for although the former could not demand or even
expect from him politeness, yet it is due to himself, if not to
them, to treat them with consideration;-although he might
entertain no very exalted respect for them, yet his own selfrespect should induce him to extend to them such civilities
as he could not omit with propriety. Politeness is justly
expected from his position, though not demanded by theirs.
Many persons appear to think that a Lord must be a
gentleman because he has nothing else to do. But an Englishman, even when possessing all the advantages of wealth
in idleness, is so bundled up in his multifarious wrappings of
selfishness and arrogance, that he possesses about the same
faculties for being gentlemanly in his manners, that a suddenly resurrected mummy might be supposed to have for
being sprightly in its movements.  In England gentlemanz
is a mere title, which is tacked to the tail end of a list of
Dukes, Lords, Baronets, &c. It is not considered at all essentinl to a Duike to be a gentleman. But in France, where




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          183
legal distinctions in rank are also acknowledged, the simple
title of Gentleman, which a man must win for himself, is
justly considered superior to all hereditary titles.  They say
Monsieur le President, Monsieur le Prince. The first title
is descriptive of the man, the last of his father.
When an Englishman conceives it to be advisable to do
a favor, instead of making it acceptable, he always succeeds
in accompanying it with such an air of obliging condescension, as to render it extremely offensive.  The supercilious
smile on his lips seems to say, what an uncommonly good
fellow I am, so extensively to patronize you. His anxiety
always appears excessive to make you fully aware of the
painful degree of self-debasement his pride has submitted to
in doing you a trifling service. And as he is not often guilty
of such indiscretions, he resolves to impress you with the importance of what he has done, and the overwhelming amount
of gratitude due him in consequence. An Irishman cat
more gracefully refuse a kindness than an Englishman do
one. The latter never appears so disgusting as when he
attempts to be especially kind. As I said once before, in
trying to seem affable, he succeeds in being condescending;
in affecting to oblige, he becomes insulting.
I have met with some Englishmen who, after a loqg residence in India, or some other foreign country, presented
but few of those national peculiarities which render them
generally so forbidding. And I have known others in
America whom you would never suspect of being Englishmen-they were such good fellows. But these had been
early transplanted from England. If the sound oranges be
immediately removed from a barrel in whichdecay has commenced, they may be saved; but if suffered to remain, they
are all soon reduced to the same disgusting state.
The transient English travelling on our Western boats,
make grievous complaints of the rude and vulgar manners




184                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
of the passengers, when people of all classes-the educated
and uneducated-the wealthy and the laboring —the elegant
and the awkward-are mixed indiscriminately together.
That many of them may have been rough in their appearance, and unpolished in their manners, I am most ready to
admit; but that they made any display of indecent rudeness
I do notbelieve. These hardy pioneers might not have been
so meekly submissive as our stiff-necked Britishers were
prepared to expect; but if they were at all rude in their
manners, it must have been when these distinguished representatives of the old country werewinclined to assert a superiority, which these independent Democrats were not disposed
to acknowledge.  No people know their own stations, or respect those of other persons more carefully, than Americans;
but the respect which superior intellect or wealth generally
receives, must be a voluntary offering, not a demauded right.
The moment a man arrogates to himself superiority to his
fellows, he is mortified by being made to feel that we are all
born free and equal. It is this salutary humiliation of arrogance which makes Englishmen so bitterly hostile to the
"brutal mingling of all classes in America."
English writers on America are eternally descanting'
upon the deteriorating effects of Democracy upon the morals
and manners of a people, and yet they betray their insincerity
by the comparisons they are constantly instituting between
this country and their own. They denounce Democracy as
destructive of all moral and intellectual excellence, and yet
they appear dissatisfied that our worst do not equal their
best.  On some Western steamboat -they are thrown into a
sociable squad -of cattle-drivers and horse-traders, whose
manners are not elegantly polished, and whose persons may
be redolent of other perfumes than Lubin's; and they express themselves disappointed because these rough tbut very
good fellows do not possess all'the easy presumption of their




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          185
nobility. They rail at the Republic, and yet expect it to do
wonders. They are fond of contrasting England and America, but they always place our roughest citizens beside their
richest nobles. Indeed, to hear an Englishman talk, one
would very naturally conclude that the nobility embraced
the whole nation, and London the entire country of Great
Britain. In discussing the manners and customs of the
English people, he invariably cites what my Lord wheat's-hisname says, or His Grace of what-d'ye-call-it, does. And
people in the largest cities of the provinces and remotest
parts of the kingdom, in alluding to London, speak of
" going to town," just as a man living in the outskirts of one
of our villages speaks of going " down in town," when he
proposes a walk to the principal business street. If their
430 individuals of title really do monopolize not only the
virtues and accomplishments, which might be reasonably expected to be distributed among the twenty-seven milliows of
people of Great Britain, but those of the 830 millions of the
universe, it would be extremely unjust to compare our most
refined classes with a circle so peculiarly favored. According to the, British standard of excellence-money-our
wealthiest citizens are very far inferior to their rich middle
classes, and could not consequently be contrasted even with
them, without injustice.. But the English are much too
cunning to be just; they will not exhibit their commercial
and agricultural classes in opposition to ours, though even
then they would have immensely the advantage in wealth.
These are the only classes of society in the two countries
between which there exists a parallel. According to their
own theory all classes in America' should be infinitely inferior to their nobility. We have no hereditary aristocracy,
with their vast advantages of wealth, of idleness, and legal
superiority; but our merchants, our planters, our farmers,
and members of the learned professions are our best; but




186                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
these are always compared with their nobles, instead of their
corresponding classes in England.  The " cits" of England
have always been regarded with scorn, and treated with
contempt.  They were the fools and cuckolds of every farce
from Wycherly to Garrick, and still continue the bulls for
the sharp authors and titled blockheads who aspire to be
witty. But our more refined classes of citizens are thought
to present too favorable a contrast with their nobility, and
our roughest Western pioneers are therefore selected as a
suitable foil to aristocratic excellence.  But what can produce so extraordinary a difference between the commercial
and agricultural classes of the' two countries, if it be not the
Republic?  I have made the suggestion, and leave the rest
to the reflections of my readers.
It is surprising how difficult it is to discover the basis,
on which rest pretensions so ample as those of the British
aristocracy. It is true that custom numbers all the nobility
among "the mighty men of Israel."  Each noble Lord
boasts himself vastly superior to the untitled of the universe, though the evidences of his superiority still continue
a mystery. Less simple than Sainson, he has never betrayed
to the world in what his strength really consists. He studiously conceals its sources.  Probably apprehending the
treachery of some new Delilah, he considers it safer to talk
about, than to display his immeasurable superiority. All are
ready to admit that his estates are much more extensive,
and his income much ampler, than those of ordinary individuals, but surely he cannot found his pretensions on his
fortune, for he professes heartily to despise money, and never'omits an opportunity to sneer at those who are toiling to
possess it.
When we consider the fact that they possess all the advantages that wealth, uninterrupted leisure, and the superstitious awe of rank can give, it is strange how few scions of




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.           187
noble families have in the last two hundred years occupied
distinguished positions. And if we except Lord Byron, not
a single hereditary possessor of a title has made, during
that period, a name that will live. The government wisely
leave the nobility to sport the broad ribbons of the different
noble orders, and to sustain the arrogance of the country,
whilst her honor is protected, and her battles fought by the
great minds that spring from the commons. The only instance in which an attempt has been made to force distinguished rank into supplying the place of distinguished abilities, the Duke of York committed such blunders, as Commander-in-Chief in the Low Countries, as to be court-martialed for misconduct.  When a Prince of the blood royal
is subjected to such a mark of the nation's disapprobation,
his incapacity must be gross indeed.
The world had a beginning, as every thing in it must
have.  The basis of aristocracy is money.  It is useless to
attempt to conceal it. Money founded, and money sustains
the noble families of Great Britan. James I. enjoys the
honor of establishing a basis so worthy of the order. The
vilest of monarchs, for the vilest of purposes,- erected the
stepping-stone, by which low-born opulence is wont to climb
into nobility.
When all those oft-tried extortions of tonnage and poundage, compulsory loans, and miscalled benevolences had been
exhausted, when every possible expedient to raise money had
been resorted to, except its legal appropriation by parliament, James I. created the order of Baronets, and retailed
the titles at ~1000 apiece.  Yet this despicable tyrant,
without a single redeeming quality, this King without dignity, and pedant without sense, this unnatural son and
cruel father, this treacherous friend and pusillanimous foe,
in order to overturn the constitution of the country, and
trample upon the rights of his subjects, became the hucksterer




188                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
of these new means, by which rich parvenues might assume
the coveted ermine of the aristocracy.  To evade the constitutional presence of parliament, and bid defiance to the
laws, James established this traffic. And fbr filthy lucre,
paid to such a monarch, in such a cause, a large majority of
the founders of the present proud nobility of England
gained their baronetcy, which was then, as it is now, the antechamber of aristocracy, from which upstart wealth may
peep, on tiptoe, into the half-curtained windows of fashionable revels. Those who will observe the enormous increase
of the peerage since the reign of Elizabeth, may form some
idea of the number of persons who compounded with James.
It is not surprising that the nobility should be so fond of
tracing back their genealogies.  An origin so worthy of
their tastes, so in accordance with their habits, is naturally
regarded with fond affection. They are right, piously to
hoard the pelf to which they owe so much. With James I.
as an example for conduct, and money as their chief object
in life, they will probably continue to be worthy of their illustrious origin.
It is true that the refinements of society of the present
day would be outraged by the audacity of James's shameless bargain and sale. Modern etiquette has changed the
form of proceeding, but the principle which characterized the
transaction then, stamps it now.  Cash is still the password, which admits any enterprising individual into those
mysteriously exclusive circles, which are professedly guarded
with Masonic watchfulness.
But greater changes, than in the refinement of the people, have taken place in England. It is " the order," not
the King, whose coffers now require replenishing. Since the
secure establishment of the English constitution, servile parliaments have always been too zealous in filling the exchequer
of the sovereign, to make it necessary for him to resort to




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.          189
those extraordinary expedients, alike degrading to the monarch, and injurious to the subject, which commenced under
Henry VIII. and ended with Charles I.  Both his public
and private wants being thus happily provided for, it is not
on his own account, but to pour new and vigorous blood into
the exhausted veins of " the order," that the sovereign now
graciously admits the bloated vulgarity of rich snobs within
the magic circle of aristocracy.  Money is a perishable sort
of thing, and will not stick eternally to noblemen's fingers,
however convulsively they may clutch it. But money is the
life-blood of the aristocracy, and money must be had at
every sacrifice, to bolster up its greatness. Whenever therefore a despised citizen becomes rich enough to make his wealth
desirable, or his opposition feared, the Queen, who dotes on
the order, as every sovereign ought, ingeniously discovers
some long-hidden virtue, which suddenly makes him worthy
of Knighthood.  From  that happy day the Cit belongs
soul, body, and more than both, purse-to the nobility.
He already dreams of a coronet, and looks forward with
fond expectation to the intoxicating period, when he can
speak of the privileges of the nobility as his own.
But it frequently happens, that the rare virtues and distinguished merits of well-fed aldermen are so securely buried
under the ample folds of fat acquired in green-turtle indulgences and civic potations, as to escape even the inquiring
penetration of the Queen. Not even modesty could forbid,
under such circumstances, that the deserving individual
should give some gentle intimation of his having money
enough to insure him the possession of every earthly virtue.
A huge donation to some royal charity —to the crystal palace, or some other chimera from the Prince Consort's brains,
at once makes the Queen sensible of his hitherto unappreciated excellence, and he becomes a Baronet. The progress
from Baronet to Earl is easy and natural, when gold paves




190                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
the way. And although the fortunate aspirant may not himself do so, yet his son or his grandson are certain to enjoy
the ineffable felicity of breathing the balmhny atmosphere of
those elevated regions, where both money and trade are so
heartily despised.
Mr. Carlyle has particularly designated us as " eighteen
millions of the greatest bores ever seen in this world." I
greatly fear that his retired habits have not permitted the
distinguished gentleman a very extended acquaintance with
his well-fed countrymen.  Had he been wmore general in his
intimacies at home, I feel assured that candor would have
compelled him, in defiance of his known courtesy to America.
to award to his own countrymen a pre-eminence so well
earned, and universally acknowledged.
There exists a ponderous sympathy between the minds
and persons of Englishmen, which renders them unrivalled
as'" bores." Unwieldy and inert, neither is much addicted
to unnecessary exertion.  They infinitely prefer eating to
talking. Indeed I may say that they are opposed to conversation on principle. They regard even a limited indulgence
in words as an unjustifiable interference with their dinner,
and condemn it as a serious interruption to digestion, after
dinner is over.  Conversation is something therefore to be
eschewed by all sensible people. A Briton is emphatically
a silent animal. But we commend his silence since, like that
of the ass, it relieves us from the terrors of his bray.  He
can, however, talk upon occasion, but woe unto him whom he
deems worthy of being talked to.  For however disinterested, or even complimentary, the intentions of the innocent
persecutor may be, the sufferings of his victim are not the
less acute. Surely the English must imbibe stupidity with
their food. Veal and lamb must certainly possess some
chemical affinity for their oleaginous brains, which, when
thoroughly established, forms a sluggish solution that must




ENGLISII WRITERS ON AMERICA.           191
prove an opiate for any mind that comes under its influence.
Their liveliest conversation is a drowsy compound of beef
and porter, enlivened by oft-told tales of England's glory,
and stale slanders of America.  Their highest appreciation
of fun is to make Ireland's sufferings the subject of some
senseless jest.  The peculiarities of the bullock, and the
sheep have, through the magnetic influence of continued absorption, made themselves much more prominent in the dispositions of the people, than those distinguishing AngloSaxon peculiarities, of which we hear so much, and know so
little. They have not become woolly, nor do they universally wear horns, but the nobility are eternally bellowing
forth the astounding deeds of their ancestors, whilst the
muttonish middle classes bleat a timorous approval. Such
subjects constitute their fund of amusing small talk, their
agreeable conversational recreation, their lively hits at the
passing unimportant.
But interest or vanity sometimes makes him hold forth
in more serious strains.  He often talks as "Jack" was
wont to "sing" —' for his supper." It is an established
rule of his life never to omit an opportunity of feeding at
another's expense, and the remote prospect of an invitation
to dinner will make him bore his intended host, with the intention of making himself agreeable, by a rigmarole of
vapid nonsense, that would deafen a miller. His vanity,
too, will prompt him to great efforts to impress distinguished
strangers with  his sparkling entertaining powers.  His
topics for conversation for such extraordinary occasions are
hidden and deeply buried, but if once you reach them, like
the Artesian wells, they are inexhaustible. If he conceives
you to be a'man of consideration, he will dilate on steamers
and railroads, in voluminous discourses, possessing all the
fatigue and ennui, without the expedition of those convey
ances.  He will assail you with prodigious accumulations of




192                  ENGLISIl ITEMS.
information on coals, and overwhelm you with statistical
tables concerning them, as dark and fathomless as their own
native pits. He will spin you tedious yarns about Manchester manufacturing, as endless as the thread of fate. He
will kindly favor you with an elaborate price-current of
hops for the past twenty years, which shall be warranted
destitute of all the sprightly qualities of that article. And,
after having put you comfortably into a doze by his learned
disquisitions on trifles, he will arouse you by retailing the
kitchen gossip of every noble family in the kingdom, which
is rather enlivening, as a pretty considerable dash of scandal
gives something like piquancy even to his dulness. The
English are undoubtedly strong believers in the substantial.
Their minds, their persons, and their conversation are all
of a solidity which nearly approaches the heavy. But they
are not " bores," for Mr. Carlyle, a man of decided discrimination, has never discovered them  to be so; although illnatured people might insinuate that his opinion was formed
upon the principle which induced the owl to believe her
nest-full of owlets the prettiest lot of young birds in the
world.
Mr. Carlyle, in common with the rest of his nation, complacently boasts of the acquirements of a few of his countrymen, and raves about the wonders they have achieved.
It would be strange indeed, if from such vast pools of stagnant stupidity, some bright spirit did not occasionally arise,
as the Jack-o'-lantern springs from fetid bogs. It should be
remembered that these huge puddles have, for eighteen centuries, been in a state of progressive preparation for such
phenomena, and yet the world has been dazzled by no illumination of Will-o'-the-wisps. A leading spirit, every hundred years, is no great things, even for lumbering Britain.
The intervals between Chaucer, Spenser, Shakspeare, Milton, and Byron, are rather long for England to sneer at




VENGLISII WRITERS ON AMERICA.         1: 
America, because she has not yet produced their equals.
But Great Britain possesses the happiest faculty of making
much out of little.  The nation is never at a loss for the
bluster of a genuine bully. John Bull's course towards us
has always been that of an overgrown, lubberly lout, towards
a very young boy.  He dares not measure his strength with
those of his own age, but, prompted by aspiring cowardice,
he delights to assume airs of superiority in derision of our
youth, and to boast of his own exploits in comparison with
our inexperience. But when people recollect what we have
accomplished in our short national existence of three-fourths
of a century, the world will not laugh with, but at the British bumpkin, in his giggling self-complacency.
Mr. Carlyle suddenly turns upon America, and tauntingly demands, " what great, noble thing, that one can worship
or loyally admire, has yet been produced there?" I am free
to acknowledge, that the activity and widespread intelligence
of our people are too great, to produce the brilliant phenomena alluded to above. And it is not at all surprising that
their natural sprightliness should cause them to be considered " bores" by a man of Mr. Carlyle's sedentary habits and
phlegmatic disposition. It is true that we support no magnificent Archbishops at $75,000 a year to " worship;" nor do
we annually invest $1,925,000, in order to have a Queen
whom  we may "loyally admire."  But we can boast that
our country presents to the assembled world 23,000,000 of
the freest, happiest, and most enlightened people the sun
ever shone upon.
But Mr. Carlyle asserts that " America with her roast
goose and apple sauce for the poorest working man," is still
" not much."  We have at least shown ourselves a match for
Great Britain in every contest, and, according to the evidence of the distinguished essayist himself, we have every
reason to feel satisfied with our position. He pompously
9                  




194                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
announces that " America's battle is yet to fight," that we
have done nothing. Is stilling the rushing currents of
rivers, and making them obedient to our arks of steam
nothing? Is it nothing to tame the withering lightning, and
lead it harmless by the habitations of men?  Is it nothing
to annihilate space, and whisper with our antipodes?  " If
these be nothing," then Fulton, Franklin, and Morse are
nothing, and "the world and all that's in't are nothing."
Let Mr. Carlyle array all his Heroes of History, and show
the world another Washington.  Where will he find more
fervid bursts of eloquence than our Adams, our Henry,
and Randolph have startled a nation with?  Where will he
find the aims of history writing better accomplished than
by Prescott and Bancroft?  General Jackson taught the
British at New Orleans what our armies could accomplish.
And although the English nation, on every festive occasion,
may shout with maudlin glee, that "Britannia rules the
waves," yet all the waters of all the oceans will not wash out
the records that Decatur, Perry, and Stewart have made in
the naval history of the world.
The English are eternally alluding to our national vanity,
and disposition to exaggerated boasting. These are qualities which England appears to consider exclusively her own.
That she is immeasurably superior to all the nations upon
earth, she holds to be a corollary which no one would dare to
dispute. And she has always been so magnificently grandiloquent in self-glorification, that she deems it presumption
in any nation to attempt the same strains. If England
really be what she boasts, we ought to be excused for feeling some little national pride; for we have overcome her in
every contest-whether by sea or land, whether contending
with muskets or cannon, yachts, clippers, or steamers, patent-lock pickers, or reaping machines, we have always been
victorious. But her supremacy on the ocean has been her




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.               195
chief source of pride. I shall not be invidious in enumerating the exploits of Paul Jones, nor shall I be unkind in
dwelling upon our brilliant naval victories during the war of
1812; I shall base our claims upon the peaceful victories of
competition.  It is scarcely necessary to allude to the victory gained by the yacht America; but I will remind my
readers that we have the fastest time ever made by sailing
vessels.  The Witch of the Wave, an American clipper of'
1400 tons, made the voyage from China to England in 90
days, the fastest on record.  Her greatest run in one day
was 389 miles, whilst the greatest run in one day ever reported by an English ship was less than 370 miles. The
Racer, of 1700 tons, made her first voyage from New-York
to Liverpool in the unprecedented time of 14 days; but
the Washington accomplished the same voyage in 13~ days.
It is scarcely necessary to allude to the glorious victory
achieved by the Collins steamers over the Cunard line.
John Bull is not much given to acknowledge himself surpassed in any thing; he must be completely whipped before
he will confess it himself. As an evidence of- how badly he
feels himself beaten I give the following extracts.
ENGLISH YACHTS AND AMERICAN CLIPPERS.-Yesterday evening Mr.
Scott Russell delivered a lecture before the Royal Institution on English
Yachts and American Clippers:"England, he observed, wrapped up in her prejudices, had been
excelled in the art of ship-building by the Americans, who followed in
this matter common sense and the laws of nature for their guides. He,
however, believed it was only necessary for us to be assured of our
present inferiority, to produce a stimulus that should result in placing
us first in the competition. A premium under the old British law of
tonnage had been held out to the construction of bad ships, and our
yacht clubs adopting this law had increased the evil. There was a
time when speed need not be considered a necessary quality in merchant ships, which were held to be good in proportion to the amount
of cargo they would stow away-with no reference to speed-and but




196                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
little to safety. Now, however, since the discovery of gold at the antipodes, speed was more than ever an object, and therefore under the
stimulus thus begotten, the lecturer predicted the building of ships
within the next ten years very far exceeding in size and speed any we
had already seen. Tvwenty miles an hour, he believed, would be not
an extraordinary speed for the new race of vessels, and their length
might amount to 500 feet. In point of fact, the longer a ship, the
safer, the swifter, the better was she, provided only her materials were
strong enough to withstand the increased strain. By adopting iron instead of wood as a shipbuilding material, this necessary degree of
strength might be secured."-Observer.
And the following from the Times:
The truth must be told-the British steamships have been beaten,
and the most rapid passages ever achieved between the Old and New
World have been accomplished by the American steamships. None
but an American steamship has ever yet run from Liverpool to NewYork and vice versa in less than ten days. The average passage of the
Asia and Africa may, perhaps, nearly equal those of the Pacific, Baltic,
and Arctic of the Collins line; but the Americans have achieved the
positive victory in speed, their steamers-the Pacific, Baltic and
Arctic-having made the fleetest voyages. On the part of the Americans the contest has been carried on at vast cost, and additional grants
from Congress, ostensibly for the mail service, but in reality from the
national spirit of rivalry, have only recently been obtained to prevent
the project from perishing by reason of an enormous inequality between
receipts and expenditures. On the part of the British, while heavy
amounts have been paid by the exchequer, and a large profit has been
made by the contractors, the Messrs. Cunard, the defeat had been
accepted only to renew the attempt in the hope and expectation of
mature and eventual success.
A great change has recently occurred in the tone of the
daily press of England towards America. She is evidently
waking up to the consciousness of who we really are. I hope
my readers will bear with me in offering some extracts from
daily papers in illustration of this somewhat mysterious
change in the style of addressing America.  The following




ENGLISH. WRITERS ON AMERICA.                197
are from the Times, with their dates and subjects attached,
about the period principally of the Boundary question, and
the McLeod difficulty.
We have boundary questions, which, it is too manifest, that the
North American republic will struggle hard to convert into means of
our injury and humiliation.-Times Leader on the Ministry, February
24, 1840.
The enlightened and upright portion of the North American people
do not form the ruling power therein; the supreme power is in the
numerical majority. The numerical majority of the United States are,
we apprehend, and the impression is a mournful one, among the least
enlightened and the least conscientious of communities calling themselves " civilized."-Lcader on Reduction of the Navy, March 7, 1840.
We are bound to resist this overbearing demand of the United
States, and, if the demand be maintained on their part vi et armis,
England, vi et armis, must repel it. —Leader, April 18, 1840.
Save only when that government had placed itself in an attitude
of indirect, though obvious, offence towards England, by totally failing
to check, and scarcely failing to encourage, the criminal outrages of
large bands of armed villains upon the provinces of the Queen of England, into which they carried fire, blood, and desolation.-Leader,
April 23, 1840.
The conduct of the people of Maine has proved that their purpose
is to establish a system of encroachment in all directions; to push us
to the wall wherever they meet with British subjects, or can find them;
to wring from us first one specific concession, and so habituate us to
the practice of yielding, that whenever they begin to bully, we shall
prepare to yield, and, at last, not have one acre of ground to stand
upon. —Leader, April 27, 1840.
Circumstances have been stated, which justify a presumption that
the report of Colonel Mudge and his colleague is to be relied upon by
Lord Palmerston, as one of the main vouchers, in the nature of an
apology, for concessions of British right, more abject and injurious than
this country has yet beer sufficiently humbled to suffer.-June 27
1840.




198                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
Any person who paid attention (and who has not?) to the clamors
of the republican newspapers, must have been persuaded, had he not
known better, that the citizens of the State of Maine were a set of
the most oppressed and ill-used of God's creatures,-lambs worried by
the prowling wolves of Englaud,-turtle doves fluttered in their nest,
-stricken and sighing sufferers under wanton injury. — Leader on
Boundary Report, July 31, 1840.
For a specimen of solemn gravity, bordering on the ludicrous, a
parallel to this has seldom presented itself:-" How men pretending, as
it is to be presumed these do, to any share of public character, could
come before the world with such an exhibition, is past all comprehension except their own."-Leader on Correspondence between Webster and
Biddle, September 16, 1840.
The Oregon Question has once or twice already been alluded to by
Mr. Van Buren in his official messages, though in language sleek and sly,
so that in fact it becomes a matter of serious inquiry whether the safer
policy might not be to fight like men for all our rights at once, than,
after a dozen pettifogging disputes, to sacrifice them all in succession.February 19, 1841.
He was as good as any other British subject for a peg on which to
hang a provocative to war, and plenty of conscientious Yankees, it
would appear, were at hand to swear his personal presence on board
the Caroline.-Our relations with France and America,-Mr. fMcLeod,
-February 19, 1841.
What will be the course of the British Government? Need we ask
the question? Yes, we must; although it be one which the country,
if not the ministers, will promptly answer. The consequences of Mr.
McLeod's judicial murder must be War.
The attempt, therefore, to shuffle off the obligation of redress for a
wrong perpetrated upon Great Britain, in the person of her subject,
from the United States Government, which originally claimed jurisdiction over the whole question, upon the shoulders of the State of NewYork alone, is adding levity and ridicule to insult and oppression.Leader,-McLeod,-March 5, 1841.
A document, which we do not scruple to describe as the most virulent, unprincipled, and revolting, that has ever disgraced the records




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                   199
of any people, bower immersed in the rudest or most corrupt vice.On Report of Committee on Foreign Affairs to the House of Representatives, March 9, 1841.
As far as the American people have had time to degenerate from
their British origin into a distinctive national character, we are afraid
that that character consists, for the most part, in empty pretension
and puff. Having began their republican career with a deep tincture
of vanity, occasioned by their successful struggle for independence, and
having afterwards enjoyed considerable mercantile prosperity, as the
principal cotton growers for the European markets, they seem to have
strutted into a precocious and unnatural self-importapce, as if their
political and commercial resources had attained a maturity, which,
under the guidance of democratic infallibility, rendered every chance
of miscarriage an inconceivable thing.-Banks, April 16, 1841.
But that as long as the American Government find that we may be
trifled with, with impunity, they are willing to gratify the passions of
the populace, by anticipations of the judicial murder of one of the
Queen of England's officers: If by any fatal mischance that monstrous
act should ever be consummated, the horror and disgust of the whole
civilized world will fall as heavily on the statesman by whom it was
tolerated, as on the savages by whom it was committed. —McLeod, August 5, 1841.
It requires we fear a stronger arm than that of the existing Federal
Government of America, to control the arrogant, unjust, and turbulent
spirit which the "pattern democracy" is apt to carry into its controversies and negotiations with foreign states. The Boundary Question
has awakened a spirit of direct hostility to England on the Northern
frontier, the emancipation of the black population of the British
colonies, in the West Indies, has been witnessed with feelings of rancor
and dread by the slave States of the South.  In private life the
nefarious abuse of British capital, too confidingly intrusted to a people
of speculators, has led the Americans to get up a cry against the nation
they have plundered.-On Relations between England and America,
August 18, 1841.
But in spite of all this fume and sputter, we would give the Amerians any favorable odds they please in betting on the security of
McLeod's life. We know the infirmities of transatlantic citizenship




200                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
tolerably well. It is astonishing what big talk and what undaunted
temerity they will make use of in a case like this.
With such a Minister, equally temperate and uncompromising, we
cannot doubt that if actual hostilities be providentially averted, the
Americans will at least be taught a lesson which in future will lead
them to a truer estimate of their self conceit and arrogance than they
yet appear to have formed. Pompous bombast in this quarter of the
world has not gone out of fashion.-McLeod, Oct. 12, 1841.
If the Americans cannot repress their insolent aggressions upon
British territory, the Queen of England will assuredly do it for them.
If a systematic series of outrages must needs be inflicted on the British
Crown, IIer Majesty's forces, instead of abstaining from doing the
duties of the Alburgh magistracy, will in all probability find ways and
means of asserting her great national rights under the walls of NewYork itself. And if it must come to that, God send us a good deliverance.-Leader, on General Alffairs, Oct. 18, 1841.
Poor Judge Gridley,-one can scarcely read his elaborate summing
up, without a compassionate smile;:conceiving that he had to deal with
the most important cause that had ever agitated the world, the anxious
functionary seems to have been literally bowed down to the dust under
the weight of his fancied responsility. The quiet and humble apartment he set in, became, in his excited imagination, " the solemn temple
of Justice," the presence of a few straggling Canadians, whom curiosity
had attracted to the spot, was felt to be so flattering to the solemnity,
that the judge publicly complimented them as " distinguished actors in
the scenes of blood and suffering," connected with the suppression of
the McKenzie rebellion:   -        and after indulging in a long and
wasteful expenditure of profound judicial saws, the complacent luminary was constrained, at last, to let the jury retire. —IcLeod's Acquittal, Nov. 1, 1841.
We have our laws, and it is mere arrogant impudence, mere
presuming on English gullibility, to demand of us to govern by any
other.-Detention of the Brig Creole, March 21, 1842.
A generous concession to a generous claimant is one thing; to invite
Brother Jonathan to help himself from oure pockets is another: we are
ready to be liberal, but we must not be bullied into giving half-a-crown
to a known swindler.-Leader, Feb. 6, 1842.




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                201
Frenchmen are sometimes impertinent, Irishmen impudent, Welchmen voluble, Englishmen blustering, Scotchmen cool; but the conjoint
coolness, blustering, volubility, impudence. and impertinence of a true
Yankee, has a height, and depth, and breadth about it, which "flogs"
each of thesq nations, in their most characteristic accomplishment.
The Pennsylvanian farmer or merchant, knows that his creditors,
grumble as they may, cannot pocket the Canadas, or ship off the railroads. He puts his hands in his pockets, and his feet on the chimneypiece, hugs himself in comfort over his growing income, and takes care
to look for a repudiating representative, in the State Legislature.
This is, was, and will be the American cry, "give! give! give!"
but the English counter cry will be "pay! pay! pay!" Before you
expect us to entertain a single argument you use-" pay your debts; "
till then you have no right to a place among honest nations. Unless
you come with your money in your hand, and pay down upon delivery,
buy not at all, barter not at all,-and if you must needs be negotiating, negotiate with the convicts of Botany Bay.-Leader, Nov. 14, 1843.
That such views as these should be current among the people, is,
perhaps, what the holders of Pennsylvanian bonds might expect, discreditable but natural: but that they should be deliberately promulgated by the highest authority in the United States, in his most solemn official manifesto, is an additional and unnecessary dishonor, arising, as
we have said, from the practice of requiring from that personage an annual palaver in extenso for the satisfaction of an unprincipled though
"free and enlightened" public. —0n President's Message, Dec. 29, 1843.
The change in the tone of the Times from that period,
is almost startling in its abruptness. They can now talk of
" consideration for the feelings of a people so nearly connected with ourselves." They seemed formerly ignorant
that we had any feelings at all-and I must confess, that
considering the intimacy of the connection, they have been
somewhat tardy in making the discovery. It appears that
the danger of the fishery question plead much more powerfully in our behalf than these tenderly chronicled ties of
consanguinity. The rest of the press following in the distance the bolder strides of their leader, now honor us with
9*




202                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
the appellation of "our rivals in commerce and arms," and
courteously discourse upon the sort of consideration with
which  "so powerful a nation" should be treated.   The
Times can now pathetically enlarge upon the probable inconvenience to American fishermen, which must arise from
the hasty proceedings of the Derby administration, and in
a tone of chiding remonstrance to the government, they observe:
It is more than probable that American fishermen have been trespassing, but their trespass has been so far unheeded, that notice of
altered resolutions on our part might have been fairly expected, while
the true interests of both countries are so plainly dependent on good
understanding and reciprocal concessions, that the very last resort
should have been to any proceeding which might resemble a menace.
Least of all should a crisis have been selected for the experiment, when
the preparations of the fishermen were too far advanced to be stopped,
and when the ordinary good sense of the community was so suspended
by constitutional incidents as to leave it at the control of even an Irish
mob.
It appears that even the Times can be extremely mild
and conciliatory in its tone towards America, though discussing a question calculated to develope all its proneness to
vituperation. What could be gentler than the following
extract, in which they remonstrate more in sorrow than anger
with the Americans for their somewhat intemperate pro —
ceedings. " The sweet south " would scarcely breathe more
softly "o'er a bank of violets," than comes the bewailing
censure of the following:
Long usage, previous concessions, and even arguments of a broader
and more general kind, suggest that the question should be treated in
a liberal and conciliatory spirit; but the law of the case, to which the
Americans have so intemperately appealed, is decidedly against them;
and while we regret that measures calculated to irritate a sensitize
nation should hlave been so hastily adopted, we are constrained to ob



ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.               203
serve that their own proceedings have been equally precipitate, and
that such views as were expressed in the Senate are ill adapted to
promote a settlement of the dispute. It is no credit to either State that
its first step on an occasion like this should have been to equip warsteamers for action, and we trust that the awakening sense of both
countries may speedily dispatch the affair by a more reasonable appeal.
To speak of England and America as equals, is certainly
a novel idea-and actually to appeal to our " sense," as if
we were reasonable people, is a condescension in Mr. Times,
of which we bowie-knife barbarians should feel properly
sensible. It certainly didn't use to be so.
What a change in their notions of our importance is
developed in the following from the same paper
TIIE DISASTROUS WAR AT THE CAPE.-While all eyes are intent on
the threatening aspect of the storm which seems about to break upon
us from the north-west, our attention is foir the moment diverted by
one of the periodical accounts of the tempest which has been so long
raging in the south-east. From the icy shores and stormy seas of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia we are abruptly recalled to the desert
plains and burning rocks of South Afiica. Sandilli takes the place of
Mr. Webstel; and the capture and recapture of sheep and cattle replace
the contest which is going on for the possession of unconscious cod and
mackerel.
They seem suddenly made aware, that America can raise
a storm.  No "tempest in a teapot," but a veritable squall
along the " icy banks and stormy seas of Newfoundland and
Nova Scotia," fierce enough to make " Britannia " slightly
apprehensive, though she does " rule the waves."   They
seem to consider us of too much importance to be wholly
despised-and have actually elevated us to the rare distinction of being mentioned in the same category with the
rebellious Hottentots and savage Caffres, who have been
summarily thrashing all the commanders-in-chief the government has successively sent out for the last twelve months.




204                     ENGE ISH ITEMS.
It appears from the following extract, that even the
Times has concluded that our just ire cannot be excited
with impunity-and has recently become convinced that
" it-cannot be the part of sound statesmanship " to " arouse
the temper " of our. people.
If we have rights, which, after long negligence, we now choose to
enforce-well and good; but it at least behooves us to afford the adverse
party fair notice of, and full reason for, our altered proceedings.  Especially this behooves us when dealing with the United States, whose
government is influenced, whether it will or not, by every prevalent
temper of their people. To arouse the temper of that people by any
unexpected proceeding, wearing a hostile aspect, cannot be the part of
sound statesmanship. Unfortunately our "Conservative" statesmen,
in dealing with the Americans, are apt to miss the just and dignified
medium, between truckling and bullying. Where Lord Aberdeen betrayed alacrity to capitulate, Lord Malmesbury indicates velleities to
menace. Mr. Webster communicates to the Boston Courier the copy
of a dispatch from Mr. Everett, United States Minister in London in
1845, transmitting a note of Lord Aberdeen, to the effect that the British government had come to the determination to concede to American
fishermen the right of pursuing their occupation within the Bay of Fundy. If this document is cited accurately, a pretty picture is presented
of that school of statesmen who, seven years back, made our American
friends a gratuitous present of those very rights which they now, all of
a sudden, send vessels of war to vindicate.-Globe.
How anxious they now are to claim us as relations,
whom they formerly most delighted to villify, appears from
the " Globe " comments:
Whatever abruptness there has appeared in the manner of proceeding on our' part, no substantial ground of offence has been given by that
proceeding to our republican kinsfolk. It can be no substantial ground
of offence to enforce admitted rights-rights infiinged admittedly. But
it is convenient to infiinge them!  It is. In such cases, rights must
either be appropriated by robbery, or obtained by purchase.
The " Republican kinsfolk" are growing in importance.




ENGLISH' WRITERS ON AMERICA.                205
and consequently in the intimacy of the family ties, that
they have been something less than a century in recollecting.
They can now acknowledge superior enterprise to Americans in something at least.
We are induced on good information to believe, that the superior
success of the Americans is mainly attributable to the superior method
they adopt in capturing the fish. Whilst the operations of our fishermen are limited to the boat-shore fishing, they are engaged in the bank
and deep-sea fishing. In the net and seine fishing they are likewise in
advance of our fishermen. The superior system adopted in the cod and
mackerel fishery by the Americans, would of itself account for the disparity between their prosperous voyages and the scanty catch of the
Colonial fishermen of those descriptions of fish. In Sir Charles Lyell's
"Second Visit to the United States," we find the following passage
[voL II., p. 356], which affords additional illustration of the like sources
of success as those above indicated in Brother Jonathan's fishing and
other enterprises. Brother Jonathan "looks alive," and keeps awake.
It seems indubitable that there is " danger " in disturbing the amicable relations according to "! the Chronicle."
But in addition to the injury which his selfish and unconstitutional
course is inflicting on the commercial interests of the community, we
have, in the pending dispute on the subject of the American fisheries, a
still more striking proof of the mischief and danger of prolonging the present political uncertainty. In the first place, with regard to the fiscal part
of the question, Sir John Pakington has taken a step which gravely compromises the relations between this country and our American colonies,
and which is in direct contravention to the spirit of that Free-trade policy
which it is certain that the new Parliament will decidedly maintain. If
the legislature had been sitting, would it have permitted the Colonial Secretary to sanction the Colonial proposition for bounties? And if it would
not, is it not plain that the country has been jockeyed, against its deliberate will, into this little trick of Transatlantic protection? But this is the
least important aspect of the affair. As regards the more serious question
of our amicable relations with the United States, the imminent danger
of intrusting so delicate a negotiation to a "moribund" Government
is but too apparent.




206                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
But this question of the "danger"  of trifling  with
America, is put beyond all cavil by the " Times."
We are informed upon the authority of Ministerial organs, that the
whole question has now been virtually settled by liberal negotiation;
and so easy and desirable was such a result, that we can scarcely discredit the report; but the intelligence of Monday announces that
American cruisers are actually on their way to the fishing grounds,
and no,limit can be put to the danger of a policy which brings the
ships of two such nations as Great Britain and the States into
menacing, if not hostile presence.
The two following are from the "Chronicle."
The grave misunderstanding between this country and the United
States, to which the question of the American fisheries has given rise
-and which appears to be daily growing more serious —will go a long
way to dispel any amiable prejudices which enthusiastic persons may
entertain in favor of improvising Secretaries of State.  Sir John
Pakington and Lord Malmesbury have contrived, by their ignorance
and folly, to blunder into a position in which it is impossible for them
either to advance with justice, or to retreat with honor.
Even if we judge the conduct of ministers from their own view of
what is expedient, they might at least have known that the Americans
are about the last people in the world from whom any thing is to be
obtained by bluster and bullying. There are no two countries in
which national jealousies take fire so quickly, or rage so fiercely, on
questions of foreign politics, as in England and the United States. In
dealing with a free people like the Americans, it is above all things
necessary that, before a claim is preferred-and, much more, before
any attempt is made to enforce it-its exigency and validity should be
clearly ascertained and established. It appears, however, that Lord
Malmesbury has proceeded to the extreme measure of seizing American
vessels, on grounds which are totally inadequate to justify such a step.
It is impossible to contemplate without painful uneasiness the consequences of so rash and foolish an exploit.
These extracts from  the Chronicle intimate  a rather
more flattering estimate of our national importance than




ENGLISH WRITERS ON AMERICA.                207
English journals were wont formerly to contain.  But it
would be the height of injustice not to allow the Times to
"sum up " on this subject.  Hear him  and wonder.
LATE DISPUTE WITH AMERICA.-The Colonies and Protection. —By
this time we hope our dispute with the United States of America is
over, and we trust that all parties will return without delay to those
amicable feelings and friendly relations which our Government has so
needlessly disturbed. It is not, however, of the obvious and glaring
errors of the Government of England, or the wild and precipitate proceedings of the American Legislature, that we wish now to speak.
Our desire is to make the danger we have just escaped the subject of
a few practical reflections, which we submit to the good sense of the
English nation. We have been on the verge of a war with a nation
which, from its identity in race and language with ourselves, would
have proved a truly formidable enemy-a maritime and commercial
people who would have met us with our own arms, on our own
element, and visited our commerce with mischiefs similar to those
which we should have inflicted upon theirs. So closely are the two
countries united, that every injury which we might inflict on our
enemy would have been almost as injurious to our merchants as bombarding our own towns, or sinking our own ships. And yet it is no
exaggeration to say that with this people we were on the very verge
of war, for, had we persevered in carrying out with a high hand, by
seizure and confiscation, our own interpretation of the treaty, a collision with the American Commodore was unavoidable; and such a
collision must almost necessarily have been followed by a formal declaration of hostilities. Now, what is the question which has so nearly led
to such serious results? It is simply whether a certain quantity of the
salt fish consumed in these islands shall be caught by citizens of the
United States or natives of our own colonies. The question whether
American fishermen shall be allowed to spread their nets in the Bay
of Fundy is one in which the people of this country have no imaginable interest; they will neither be richer nor poorer, stronger nor
weaker, more admired or more feared, should they secure the monopoly
of fishing in these northern waters to the inhabitants of the sea-coast
of our North American colonies.
I find a very appropriate termination for my extracts in
the Examiner.




208                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
THE RETREAT.-We said last week that the English ministry would
have to beat a hasty and disgraceful retreat in the American brawl.
Already it has done so. The act of cowardice has followed hard on
that of bluster and defiance, and the Americans remain not only
masters of what they had, but gainers of considerably more. It is
announced by the organs of the ministry that the matter in dispute has
been amicably arranged between Lord Malmesbury and Mr. Abbott
Lawrence, the former agreeing to throw open to the United States all
the British fisheries at greater distances than three miles from our
coasts, and the latter making the same concession to England of the
American fisheries. Thus every point in question is given up on the
English side, while at the same time, by what the Standard calls " an
arrangement of perfect reciprocity," the Americans give up nothing at
all, and get a great deal. If there had been any other fisheries worth
naming in these American waters except those off our own coasts, the
brawl could never have arisen.
I shall make no comments on the miraculous change of
tone towards America, in the press, or rather in the Times,
which is a synopsis of the press, from 1840 to 1852. The
extracts I have made at the two periods speak for themselves.
I will simply ask my readers whether they believe this very
perceptible change to result from the fact of England's
having more interests to protect now than then, or from her
having, by some mysterious process, become aware that we
are rather more powerful than she imagined when she talked
blood and powder about the Boundary question and the
McLeod difficulty? Was it the sense of danger, or gentle
"consideration" for our "feelings," which has produced so
marvellous a contrast in the style of addressing us? Was
it prudence or affection which dictated the change? Have
we grown so much better, or so much more powerful in the
opinion of the English press, that we are now treated with
something like the respect usually extended towards other
nations?  Has "the Times" became more tolerant of a nation
of swindlers, or has policy suggested a little flattering deceit?
Again I say the extracts speak for themselves.




ENGLISH MANNERS.               209
CHAPTER VI.
ENGLISH MANNERS.
IT is not surprising that an Englishman should be awkward, and reserved in his manners. In his apprehension
of addressing some one above or below him, he lives like a
man on a sharp fence between a mad bull and biting dog.
If he rashly ventures down on-one side, some haughty superior may contemptuously toss him; and if he cautiously
slides off on the other, he incurs the danger of being pulled
down and worried by an inferior. Either catastrophe would
be equally terrible in its results to him; and his only alternative is to remain mum, and bolt upright. How could an
individual under such circumstances be otherwise than constrained, unnatural, and ill at ease.
Such is his life, his only consolation being in venting his
ill-humor on dependents. He delights in creating a sensation
in public places by blustering among the waiters. He is fond
of displaying his breeding by ordering unusual or impossible
things. Nothing seems to afford him such exquisite enjoyment as setting a whole establishment in commotion. It is
ludicrously terrific to witness the emphatic fierceness with
which he will thump the table, and noisily declare his determination not to leave it, till his demands, however absurd or
unreasonable they may be, have been complied with. Such
conduct cannot fail, in his opinion, to inspire all beholders
with respect, and to impress them with high notions of his




210                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
aristocratic rearing. He grumbles on principle, and finds
fault in order to be well served. He makes it a rule never
to express himself satisfied with any thing that is done for
him. He is afraid to appear pleased. He laboriously avoids
manifesting any thing like enthusiasm in public places of
amusement, and never acknowledges the slightest pleasure
at any entertainment however sumptuous. If he did, people might suppose that he had never been accustomed to any
thing better; whilst it is his darling wish to produce the impression that he was " born so high," that nothing gotten up
by inferior mortals for his amusement could merit his approbation. His tastes are too refined, his habits too luxurious
to be gratified among the herd. Content is plebeian, and applause decidedly vulgar. A peasant can feel one, "the
groundlings " do the other. An English gentleman should
consequently know neither. How could he be guilty of
such injustice to his caste, as to appear amused by what
other people took interest in? And besides, if he should so
far forget himself, as to appear contented with what he ordered of a menial, the English would immediately conclude
that he was not much accustomed to being waited on. So
after all, if an Englishman was not morose by nature, the
trammels of the society in which he lives.would inevitably
make him so. Circumstances compel him to be noisy, blustering, and bullying, with those whose services his money
temporarily commands; whilst it is equally incumbent on
him to be silent and forbidding among those whose position
in life he is not perfectly well assured of. It would be as
shocking to his sense of his own importance in encouraging
the advances of others, to be contaminated by familiar intercourse with an individual of inferior pretensions, as to
be snubbed in too boldly addressing somebody, whose rank
conferred on him the privilege of being rude. He can never
approach a stranger without braving this double danger;




ENGLISH MANNERS.               211
consequently the delicate nerves of snobbishness make him
keep his distance and hold his peace.
During my wanderings in the East, I became acquainted
at Jerusalem with a wealthy English banker, whose chief
delight was to boast of his noble connections, and aristocratic associations. He had travelled much, though with no
decided advantage to a naturally contracted and violently
prejudiced mind. He was far from being either intellectual
or well informed; and yet he was an extremely entertaining
companion, from the unsuspecting display of such a catalogue of absurdities, as is rarely possessed even by an Englishman. Among very many extraordinary and highly amusing disclosures he was daily in the habit of making to us,
with regard to himself and his country, he on one occasion
alluded to the inexorable nature of the laws governing fashionable circles in England. He informed us that it was
destruction to a man's position in society to wander, even
inadvertently, beyond the confines of his particular class;
and in illustration of his remark, related a little adventure
which had once occurred to himself. He was one night during the fall of the year going from Dover to Ostend. It
was bitterly cold, and sleeting in that driving-piercing sort
of way, only observable in England and off her coasts.
Scarcely had they emerged from the dock when they discovered it was extremely rough. Our banker found it impossible to remain in the cabin below, which was soon rendered
noisome by the number of seasick passengers, who had taken
refuge there from the weather. His only alternative therefore was to continue on deck, exposed to the pitiless storm
that was then raging. During the somewhat melancholy reflections produced by his situation, for, singularly enough, he
happened to be without an overcoat, a strange gentleman of
remarkably prepossessing appearance approached him, and
discovering his forlorn condition, politely begged his accept



212                ENGLISH ITEMS.
ance of a heavy coat which he had with him, in addition to
the one he himself wore. The proffered coat was joyfully
accepted by our shivering acquaintance, who sought in vain
for words sufficiently to thank the unknown passenger for so
unexpected a kindness. So agreeable an incident very naturally led them into conversation. The banker was charmed with the other. He discovered that in addition to his
unusually graceful manners, he was a man of decided intelligence and rare information. So much was he delighted
with his new friend, that they spent the night together on
deck, conversing on a multitude of different subjects, of all
which the stranger possessed the same familiar knowledge.
The banker was as much impressed by his appearance and
address, as he was charmed by the very extraordinary powers of conversation he continued to display during the whole
voyage. In parting with him on the pier at Ostend, he
warmly acknowledged his indebtedness to his kindness, and
expressed a hope to have the pleasure of his farther acquaintance. But previous to his making some effort to show his
appreciation of the obligation under which the stranger had
placed him, his caution suggested the propriety of making
some inquiries as to who he was, as he might possibly compromise himself by some unworthy association. "What,"
continued he in his relation of the anecdote to us, "was my
consternation in discovering that he was a rich linen-draper,
who was about to make a short tour on the continent. The
presence of such a man I could never acknowledge even by
a bow, without seriously endangering my own standing. So
I determined if possible to shun him, not wishing to be the
occasion of any unnecessary mortification to a man who had
been polite to me. But the fates had ordained it otherwise.
What was my horror when, that very morning, I met him
face to face in the street. What was I to do? I remembered I had a position in society to maintain, so I cut him, and




ENGLISH MANNERS.               213
returned his polite bow with a surprised stare, that was
meant to inquire what insolent fellow presumed to bow to
me without an introduction? I was sorry to do it, for I must
acknowledge that I have rarely met a man with whose manners and conversation I felt so much pleased; but his occupation precluded the possibility of my so far demeaning myself, as to acknowledge that such a person had had it in his
power to oblige me. Besides, if I had even coldly returned
his salutation, he might on some future occasion have had
the impertinence to bow to me at the opera, or in Regentstreet, which would have ruined me with all my West-end
acquaintances. The only course left me, was the one I pursued-to cut him in the beginning. It very probably saved
both of us much future annoyance." This wholesale shaver
-this man of flint, who preys upon the necessities, and
lives by the misfortunes of his fellow men, felt contaminated
by receiving a kindness from a haberdasher, because, forsooth, he was dignified by the elephantine title of Banker.
What opinion must we entertain of the mind and heart of a
man, who could unfeelingly insult another, whose bearing
had so favorably impressed him, simply because he pursued
an occupation less fashionable,'tis true, but equally as respectable and far more honest than his own? What estimate can we place upon the refinement of the society which
compels its victims to descend to low-bred vulgarity and
brutal rudeness in order to retain in it their positions? A
position so precarious, as to be endangered by the simple
acknowledgment of a favor to the humblest man who was
honest, seems to me to be scarcely worth having. Had there
been any thing peculiarly repulsive in the man's appearance,
or obtrusive in his manners,-had the banker discovered
upon inquiry, that he had been engaged in some disreputable
pursuit, or that suspicions however vague had ever been
whispered against the integrity of his past conduct, he might




214                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
have been excusable for formally expressing his thanks, and
afterwards treating him with sufficient coldness of manner
plainly to intimate that he desired no greater intimacy.
But when he himself had declared the stranger to be a most
delightful companion, and had candidly acknowledged the
decided suffering from which his polite offer of his coat had
relieved him, his conduct was a barbarity which an Englishman only could perpetrate.  How insecure must be the
basis of that rank, which could be toppled over by a nod of
recognition to a man whose only offence was in being a retail merchant. What contempt must we feel for a nation
who professes to despise trade, when trade made England
what she is.  How completely must all magnanimity be enveloped in the fog of absurd superstitions about rank, when
honest industry can be regarded as a disgrace.
It would be folly to express a doubt of England's widespread influence. It would be worse than prejudice to deny
the honor, with which her representatives are received at all
foreign courts. Her flag is known and respected in every sea.
Her power is acknowledged, and her resentment feared by
every nation of the older continents. The rights of her humblest citizens are respected in the remotest countries-for her
subjects bear with them into the most distant climes assurances
of her protection. She has always redressed the injuries done
to individuals, as outrages to herself. The affair of Don Pacifico and the Greek government is too recent to require more
than a passing allusion. I was in Athens during the embargo
by the English fleet. I saw a king harassed-a friendly power
threatened-and the whole nation distressed, because the
Athenian mob had been pleased incontinently to batter Don
Pacifico's pet warming-pan. Yes, that immortal Bay, which
had witnessed the destruction of Xerxes' thousand ships, I
s;aw desecrated by the presence of a hostile fleet, because the
ingenious Don considered it safest to thlow himself upon the




ENGLISH MANNERS.                215
protection of the English government, on the authority of
an antiquated passport, dated some twenty or thirty years
back, at Gibraltar. So far as regarded the proof of Pacifico's
citizenship, the passport might just as well been dated in the
moon, or some other distant planet.  But England showed
to the world that a man. even professing to be an English
subject, could claim, and receive her protection. Even in
the last few months, a prime minister has been hooted by
all classes of his own countrymen, and two friendly powers
have been kept in hot water, because young Mr. Mather had
been maltreated by an Austrian officer, in Florence.  And
although redress was sought, and obtained, yet the almost
entire'press of the country united in reviling the imbecility
of Lord Derby's government, in not insisting upon some re:tribution, more in accordance with the offence.
The civilized world has reason to be grateful to England
for the promptness with which she has always punished any
nation, that dared to assail a citizen of hers.  This influence
is felt in the remotest countries of the East, into which travellers ever penetrate. I have, myself, enjoyed the advantages of it, and here make my acknowledgments. In Turkey,
Syria, and Egypt, all Franks and Howadjis are confounded
with Englishmen.  And Germans, Frenchmen, and Americans, profit by the mistake. The summary manner in which
British representatives have more than once proceeded, has
taught these bigots that their nation, at least, must be sacred
from persecution and insult. These semi-barbarians seem
apprehensive, that the English fleets will come stalking
across their sandy plains, like the wooden horse up to the
walls of Troy. And so exaggerated an opinion do they entertain of England's power, that the curse of their Prophet
is scarcely more dreaded than the terrors of her ire.
Previous to the conquest of Syria by' Ibrahim Pasha,
the heroic son of Mehemet Ali, no Christian was permitted




216                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
to enter the gates of Damascus on horseback. All Franks
were compelled to assume the most abject humility in the
presence of a native, and they were altogether excluded from
certain quarters entirely occupied by the residences of
Turks.  When Ibrahim asserted the conqueror's right to
the direction of affairs, he very greatly alleviated the condition
of the few Christian inhabitants of the city, and decidedly
diminished the annoyances of travellers, All these absurd
restrictions were abolished, and never resumed, although the
citizens of Damascus still continued the most bigoted ofthe
Turkish dominions. On a certain occasion, some years ago,
an English traveller was curiously peering into the outer
court of the principal mosque in Damascus. He did not
enter, as he was well aware of the insane fury of the Mahometans against any Frank, who should dare to desecrate their
fanes by his presence. But the bigoted people in the neighborhood determined to regard his inoffensive conduct as a
pollution of the sacred character of the place;.and immediately commenced an assault with mud and stones, which, becoming fiercer every minute, must have proved fatal, had not
the poor tourist fled for refuge to the house of the English
Consul, which fortunately happened to be not far distant.
The Consul at once demanded satisfaction for so flagrant an
outrage. The Pasha was apparently most active in his inquiries, but professed to be altogether unable to discover the
perpetrators of the insult. The Consul promptly demanded
the arrest of every male inhabitant of that quarter of the
city, and insisted upon subjecting them all to the punishment that some of them had so richly merited. The Pasha
demurred, but finally he attempted a'compromise, by proposing that the punishment should be inflicted in private.
But the Consul would listen to no such proposition; and
England being a name of fear, the Pasha was compelled to
submit, and some two or three hundred of these bigots were




ENGLISII MANNERS.               217
bastinadoed by a detachment of soldiers in the Public
Square. The example of several hundred delinquents undergoing this fearful punishment at the same time, was not
soon to be forgotten by the Damascenes; and England,
and Europeans, have been respected highly ever since.
The proceeding must seem harsh and unjust to us, but it
was altogether in accordance with Oriental notions of justice, which makes whole sections of the country responsible
for the crimes committed in their boundaries. The apprehension of a general punishment makes of all the inhabitants a vigilant police, for the detection of thieves and
murderers.  Some such act of severity too, was essentially
necessary to impress these zealots with becoming ideas of
the inviolability of the persons of the Franks.
Nineteen hundred years ago Caesar found Britain the
puny possession of savages-and the Romans left them more
civilized,'tis true, but still, unable to defend themselves
froni the attacks of their more powerful neighbors on the
other side of the Tweed. From an origin so humble, she
has risen to be the most powerful nation on the globe.
Once an inconsiderable island, with an area'about equal to
our State of Missouri, her colors now float from the citadels
of 44 colonies, scattered over the known world, besides
her vast possessions in India.  Her rule is acknowledged by
nearly 200,000,000 of people. She sustains a standing army
of 100,000 men, and a navy of 198 ships in commission, with
33,759 seamen and marines. Her merchant service is estimated at 4,144,115 tons, and she sustains a vast national
debt, whose interest alone annually amounts to $141,269,160.
For a nation, who from such a beginning has produced such
results, I can but feel an exalted admiration. But my contempt surpasses my admiration, when I remember that they
are ashamed of what has made them  great.  Instead of
erecting statues to commerce in every public square-instead
10n




21. 8               ENGLISHI ITEMS.
of placing tablets at the corners of all the principal thoroughfares, expressive of the nation's gratitude to trade, they pitifully profess to despise those engaged in commercial pursuits. What were they till commerce lent her helping hand?
Alternately the defenceless prey of Romans, Picts and
Scots, Saxons, Danes, and Normans, England was only
known among nations, as the convenient conquest of any
marauding horde of barbarians, whose own possessions were
too narrow, or too poor to content them.  Commerce first
taught them the art of self-defence, and gave them strength
to maintain it.  Commerce brought them wealth.  Com
merce made them powerful, and ministered to their glory.
Yet in their degradation, they have branded commerce as
unworthy to associate with the descendants of their Norman
enslavers.  The poverty of their language never appears so
lamentable as when we seek for expletives worthy of such
meanness.  What shall we call such conduct?'Tis littleness in Titan mould!
A genuine Englishman delights in rendering himself
co spicuous by the multitude of his wants. If on board a
steamer, where the number of servants is necessarily limited,
he will send one waiter for roast beef, another for a bottle
of porter —will order a -third, as he approaches the gentleman sitting next him, who has had nothing to eat, to hand
him the radishes, and then complains to the head steward
that he can get nobody to wait on him. In the meanwhile,
he helps himself successively to every thing he can reach, by
sticking his elbows into other people's faces, and pronounces
all he tastes unbearable. His beef arrives, which he eyes
scornfully, and with upturned nose pushes off from him. He
once more bawls for the head steward, and sarcastically asks
to be informed what he calls that on his plate.  l" Roast
beef, I think, sir."  "Roast beef, is it?  Well, I should
say that, whatever it may hbe it is not fit to be put




ENGLISH MANNERS.                219
into a gentleman's mouth."  He then continues confidentially to announce to the whole table-whilst professedly
addressing the steward-that the cook does not understand
his business, that the carvers do not know how to carve, and
that he has found nothing since he has been on board that
he could eat; although he has been daily in the habit of
employing two-thirds of all the servants within call, and
devouring every thing he could lay his hands on. The eager
haste, amounting almost to a scramble, with which an Englishman seeks to have himself helped before everybody else,
appears to me strangely unbecoming in a gentleman,-especially in situations where the wants of all are certain to be
attended to, with the exercise of a slight degree of patience.
But he seems to imagine there is distinction in being first
served, even when he is compelled to resort to unseemly
haste to secure the doubtful honor. He considers selfishness knowing, and a total disregard of the comfort of other
people as eminently indicative of an aristocratic turn of
mind.  He is nervously apprehensive of showing the slightest attention even to a lady at table, such, for instance, as
passing her the salt or filling her wine-glass. He is haunted
by the spectral fear that somebody might construe such an
encroachment upon the duties of the waiter into evidence of
his having emerged from some obscure position. Such scrupulous attention to the preservation of his rank would naturally imply the consciousness of being in a new position, of which
he was not altogether secure. What man among us, really
entitled to the consideration of a gentleman, would be agitated
by such absurd apprehensions. A man, really certain of his
position in society, would scarcely fear a sacrifice of it by
so simple an act of politeness.  An Englishman is always
excessively anxious to have his seat near the head even of a
public table, as in England the rank of the guests is determined by the arrangement of their seats.  But it seems to




220                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
me that true nobility would confer honor on the place-not
borrow honor from it. Whatever its position at table might
be, there, it appears to me, would the seat of distinction
always be. And when a vulgarian does succeed in rudely
elbowing his way to the head 6f the table, the mere fact of
his being there could scarcely impose him even on Englishmen as a gentleman.
In ordering his wine, he always pronounces the name of
the brand in an unnecessarily loud voice, that the whole table may be made aware of " what an extravagant dog it is;"
but he at the same time takes good care to add in an undertone to the waiter,. "a half-bottle, mind ye." He is peculiarly knowing in all the varieties of wines, especially after
having examined the brand on the cork. He first sternly
regards the waiter who has just filled his order, and then
proceeds minutely to inspect the bottle, with a sapient wag
of the head, which plainly indicates that he suspects some
trickery, though it is altogether useless to "try it on so old
a stager" as himself. He never appears to think of tasting
the wine to ascertain its quality, and seems altogether oblivious that new wine is sometimes put into old bottles.
When satisfied as to the identity of the brand and bottle,
he smacks his lips with affected gusto, and never fails to
remark for the edification of the company generally, that he
is just then engaged in drinking the very best wine ever
exported. What a lucky chap it is, not only to know, but
to be able to order the very best wine that is exported. He
is never so happy as when descanting upon the rival merits
of high-priced wines. He professes to be intensely interested in the dates of the different vintages, and uncommonly
well posted up on the yield of the various chateaux. He
will order some French dish among the entrees, and pronounce it in such a manner that nobody can understand him.
He will have all the servants on board, and both stewards,




ENGLISH MANNERS.               221
in confusion, running to him with the different side dishes,
till he has succeeded in collecting them all in stately array
before him, when he finds himself in the mortifying predicament of not knowing what he wants himself. He, however,
flies into a passion, abuses the servants, 1"talks sharp" to
the steward, and seems proud of the staring attention he
attracts. He is marvellously discriminating in cheeses, and
particularly nice about tea. It is his ordinary custom to
kick up a daily rumpus at the table because the waiters will
persist in confounding Wiltshire with Stilton, the latter of
which he always prefers, and usually ends the uproar by
having all the cheeses on board. English, Dutch and American, passed in grand review before him. He travels with his
own private tea-caddy of Russian tea, which he orders forth
every morning at breakfast with an imposing loftiness of manner one might ascribe to his tea-drinking Highness, the Emperor of China. Whilst pouring on the hot water, which he
always does himself, to avoid the possibility of tricks with
his precious Russia, he sympathizingly wonders how human
beings can endure the dishwater stuff with which they
drench the rest of the passengers. As an act of Oriental
condescension, he will occasionally invite some peculiarly
favored individual to come sit beside him, and imbibe honor
and inspiration from his squat black teapot. He will inquire en passant, if it is a regulation of this particular ship
never to change the napkins on the dinner-table.  He is
eternally fussing about the number of towels furnished in his
room, and invariably appropriates, in addition to his own,
those intended for his room-mate. He appears impressed
with the notion that it is his bounden duty to busy himself
about the general management of the vessel. He is constantly reporting delinquent servants to the head steward, and is
apparently the only person among a hundred and fifty passengers who never can have any thing done for him. Of course, a




222                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
gentleman who requires so much waiting on, and makes
such a noise, must necessarily be an individual of distinction
and importance, and he impresses the English flunkies and
the English waiters accordingly,-though the disgust he
inspires is almost universal among the American passengers.
He will volunteer a stupid song; and sing it badly, and tells
long stories, at which nobody laughs but himself. After
dinner, he cracks nuts and disgusting jokes, for the amusement of those who have been sea-sick and still feel a " leetle uncomfortable," and regards it as quite a triumph to
drive some unfortunate from the table. Notwithstanding
his disgust for every thing put on the table, he never omits
a meal, but breakfasts, lunches,-dines, takes tea and sups,
with a regularity, and to an extent, truly surprising. Actuated by the generous impulses of a public-spirited individual,
he seems resolved that the captain shall have no delicacy
on his table which he himself cannot share. He will order
some rare dish, and, when told that it is not on the bill of
fare, he will declare his conviction that he saw it on the
captain's table at lunch, and rudely express a determination
to have it if it be on board. He manifests his admirable
sense of decency and neatness by eyeing with frowning distrust his plate, which he proceeds furiously to rub, and then
diligently scours his knife and fork, in nervous apprehension
of lurking dirt. He throws his head back with a knowing
jerk in the accomplishment of this interesting proceeding,
and looks around for applause among the passengers, as
much as to say, "follow my example, gentlemen; I am an
old traveller, and am resolved not to be unnecessarily hastened in taking'my peck of dirt' by being confined to these
filthy steamers." He will permit no waiter to help a passenger from a favorite dish which happens to be near him,
but he helps plates himself, and the unconquerable greediness of the man protrudes itself in the very ample manner




ENGLISH MANNERS.                223
in which he piles up his own plate, and the rather dainty provision he makes for other people.  I cannot resist the temptation to allude to the somewhat extraordinary conduct of an
official personage from England, whom we happened to have
on board the Baltic, in crossing the Atlantic last spring.
He never omitted at a single dinner during the entire voyage to display his extravagant profusion, by ordering the
most expensive description of champagne, but, with the
usual prudence of an Englishman, he was always particular
in taking it in a halfbottle, which he swallowed in' solitary
grandeur. He had several friends, but no one of them was
ever invited to take wine with him. Indeed, having early
discovered that the allowance of wine which his parsimony
permitted him to enjoy was insufficient to be shared even
with his wife, he earnestly insisted that this meek-minded
person should drink porter, as it was so much more " wholesome" than champagne.  The poor little woman was an
American, whom he had just married; and evidently did not
like porter; but she submitted without a murmur, though
she could not resist making a wry face at the cheap beverage her husband had so considerately prescribed for her
health. This continued till the last day of the voyage,when
wine is furnished by the captain gratuitously to the passengers.  Immediately after taking his seat on that occasion,
our official gentleman drew one of the bottles to his side,
from which he refused to permit the waiters to help other
persons. He found no difficulty in disposing of the wine
which he had so unceremoniously appropriated, and soon
ordered another bottle to be brought. The peculiar wholesomeness of porter was forgotten, and his submissive little
wife was allowed to take as much champagne as she pleased.
He suddenly remembered that he had friends on board,
with all of whom he successively took wine, in the generous
exhilaration of his feelings. And, finally, reaching over for




224                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
the thir'l bottle, he ordered the waiter to carry it with his
compliments to the surgeon of the ship, as he desired to take
wine with him.  I wonder if he remembered, whilst he was
noddinrg with condescending familiarity, that it was the
captainz's wine he was being so liberal with.  But the
doubt implies a suspicion of his prudence, which I acknowledge to be unjust.  Of course, he recollected the fact, for
he would never have been guilty of the folly of sharing with
others what was his own. I was delighted with the whole
proceeding.  I felt happy to make the discovery that even
an Englishman was profuse in his generosity when he could
be so at the expense of other people.
When on deck it is the unceasing struggle of the genuine
English tourist to ape the ways of an " old salt," and he
seems to think that having a stomach like a cassowary that
nothing can turn is something to boast of.  He is always by
very far the busiest man on board. He interrupts the
officers in discharge of their duties by his impertinent suggestions; he goes "aft " to inspect the compass, "forerd " to
superintend the steerage passengers, and below to torment
the engineer. In rough weather he always wears a " sou'wester" and an oil-cloth coat.  He eyes the sails askance.
sagely discourses of " royals " "top-gallant" and "'' main sels,"
and speculates profoundly upon a probable change of wind.
He is intensely ambitious of appearing learned about trifles.
He can always tell you the tonnage of the ship, her length,
her cost, and quickest voyage.  He keeps himself posted up
as to the log, invariably knows the number of revolutions
the wheels are making to the minute, and is certain to be
earliest informed of "the last twenty-four hours' run."  He
is foremost in all marine auctions and lotteries, and intensely
delights in instructing new-beginners in the occult science of
"shuffleboard."  He is charmed to play the oracle; and
talks most glibly for the edification of a crowd. He is never




ENGLISH MANNERS.                225
so contented as when recounting to a squad of greenhorns
the adventures of former voyages, the whales he has seen,
and the icebergs he has encountered.  If any thing a little
out of the ordinary routine of the ship happens to occur, he
immediately pronounces it nothing to what happened to him,
during a certain voyage, on a certain ship, with a certain
captain, and forthwith proceeds to spin interminable yarns
without point, of his past personal experience. If not otherwise employed he will hang about the quarter-deck, in order
to enjoy the satisfaction of impudently replying to questions
asked by passengers of the captain with regard to his ship,
and her management.  He seems as destitute of delicacy as
of modesty, and does not hesitate to answer for anybody,
though the gentleman addressed was present, and might
very naturally be supposed to prefer talking for himself.
He will intrude himself into any conversation where an opportunity occurs of showing what he thinks he knows, and
seems altogether to forget that he may occasionally display
his ignorance, as well as his rudeness, by such gratuitous
favors.  If remonstrated with upon such conduct, he will
reply, " Oh, everybody knows me; why, my dear friend, this is
mny twentieth voyage! "  Being an Englishman, and such a
traveller, gives him of course the privilege in his own opinion
of sticking his nose into every company without incurring
the danger of having it pulled, as it often deserves to be.
He indulges himself in the liberty of treating everybody as
an acquaintance, since he considers himself not at all bound
to acknowledge on shore the acquaintances made on board of
the ship.  In throwing aside his checked travelling coat
and cap, he conveniently disremembers all the passengers,
whom he has treated with such patronizing familiarity,
unless there happens to be among them somebody of distinction whose casual acquaintance he is certain afterwards
to take advantage of if lie can.  It is amusing during the
10*




226                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
first few days after leaving port, before he has succeeded in
discovering the residence and occupation of every one on
board, to watch the effect produced on him when the captain
happens to take wine with a passenger. He immediately
puts down the fortunate individual as worthy of being inquired after, and should he prove to be of the preconceived
degree of importance, the Englishman unhesitatingly commences a system of toadyism despicable to behold.  But insolence and servility are usually united.  One is rarely discovered in a superlative state of perfection without the other.
He is never slow in arriving at his conclusions, for, notwithstanding his violent condemnation of "Yankee curiosity,"
he possesses a peculiar facility for picking up personal details, altogether surpassing any thing presented among other
nations. He contrives in this style of his own invention to
be correctly informed as to name, birth-place and occupation
of every man, woman and child on the steamer, without once
resorting to the exploded.fashion of direct interrogation.
He delights in being appealed to for the decision of bets and
disputes; and generously gives the advantage of his opinion
to any one who is willing to receive it. He seems to consider nothing troublesome that affords him an apology for
hearing himself talk.  Indeed an Englishman appears to
have two characters when on ship-board and on shore.
Silent as he always is in the latter situation, in the former
he is decidedly garrulous, though not the less stupid. WV, hen
he can find nothing else to meddle in, he interferes with
the prescriptions of the ship's surgeon, by recommending
some infallible nostrum of his own which he has known in
over a hundred cases to relieve sea-sickness; and insists on
cramming the stomachs of nauseated passengers as full of
his quack doses as his own pockets.  He never misses a
chance of throwing all the passengers into an unnecessary
commotion by intently gazing for half an hour through the




ENGLISH MANNERS.                 227
spy-glass on vacancy. Of course such a proceeding on the
part of an old salt, is sufficient to make every man advance in
turn seriously to ogle the clouds through the glass; for,
though the " old salt" assures each one with chuckling satisfaction, that he has seen nothing, absolutely nothing, yet
every one remains firmly convinced that there must be -' something ahead." He finds too an inexhaustible fund of amusement in pointing his prophetic finger to imaginary "sails,"
which passengers cannot see because they have neither acquired their "ocean eyes," nor their " sea legs."';




228                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
CHAPTER VII.
ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER.
CEREMONY and dining constitute the melancholy recreations of an Englishman's life. Eating is the only thing
which he is permitted to do heartily, and as if he enjoyed it.
He cannot talk, he cannot think, he cannot dress as he pleases,
there is an inviolable rule for them  all.  He is never free
till armed with a knife and fork, indeed he is never completely himself without them. Even the order in which he must
place himself. at the table, and the manner of occupying his
seat, are both prescribed by law. He only escapes restraint
when he feels the familiar touch of those domestic weapons
of offence, which may be as properly considered integral
portions of an Englishman as claws are of a cat.
I once said that an Englishman's dinner "was not only
the event of the day, but the primary object of his life."
With the English eating is not simply the highest enjoyment
of their existence, but it has become the great national mode
of commemorating social incidents and public events. From
birth to death a prolonged set-to at the table marks the
principal occurrences of an Englishman's life.  He is joyously ushered into the world, and solemnly escorted out of
it, by a feast. A child is born, a christening follows, and a
huge lunch Frenchified into "d(jeuner" is the consequence.
A man gets married, and his father-in-law feels a hungry
sort of necessity to feed all the friends of the family on the




ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER.           229
day of the wedding. A man dies, and his relations and
friends assemble to read his will, and devour a solemn
dinner at his expense.  They write cards of condolence
to his family and send their empty carriages to attend
his funeral, but take good care to be at his "wake" in
person. Englishmen do almost every thing by proxy but
eat-that is a duty which they religiously perform themselves. The professions of distress they deem it proper to
make upon these funeral occasions, are as heartless as the
notes of consolation they write to the family.  The outward
forms of sorrow they consider it decent to observe, are as
empty as the mourning coaches.
If a great Lord makes a great speech, all the corporations immediately honor him with a great dinner. If a distinguished diplomatist negotiates an important treaty, they
fLte him by feeding him. If a mighty General gains a
mighty victory, he must at once pass through the ordeal of
a mighty repast, where more fatigue must be endured than
in his whole campaign, and more wine must be drunk, and
indigestible turtle swallowed, than the blood he has
shed and the lead he has wasted in the battle. If an
Englishman wishes to be respectful, he gives a dinner; if he
desires to be polite, he invites you to dine; and should he
wish to be sociable, he insists upon your joining the family
circle at the important meal of the day. If a stranger
brings a letter of introduction, a dinner is the result, unless
the man who gave the letter has the meanness to write privately to your host that you are unworthy of such an honor.
From such premises we can readily determine the value at
which the friendship and attentions of these people are to be
estimated, when it is a precept especially enjoined upon them.
that, if they give a letter of introduction to an improper
person,'tis their duty to write at once by mail, warning the
person to whom it is directed of the fact. We know not




230                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
whether to feel the greatest contempt for the man's conduct
when he shows himself so destitute of all manliness of character as to be unable to refuse an introductory letter, to an
improper person, or when he descends to this clandestine
mode of confessing his own meanness.
Englishmen not only regard eating as the most inestimable blessing in life, when they enjoy it themselves, but they
are always intensely delighted to see it going on. The government charge an extra shilling at the Zoological Gardens
on the days that the animals are fed in public, but, as much
as an Englishman dislikes spending money, the extraordinary
attraction never fails to draw an immensely increased crowd,
even with the advanced prices. I mean not to intimate that
there is any thing objectionable about social conviviality.
There is something comfortable and agreeable in the simple
act of taking a glass of wine, which, like the coffee-drinking
and pipe-smoking among the Turks, produces at once a
genial feeling of good fellowship; and I know that if two
boon-companions get drunk together, they are sworn friends
for life.  It is not my desire to interrupt that "feast of
reason and flow of soul," which these enthusiastic lovers of
"belly-cheer " will not agree can occur elsewhere than at the
dinner-table.  I can myself conceive of few things more
charming than a small, well-assorted party, gathered sociably
about a round table. But I am opposed to the idolatrous
tenets of those who can worship at no shrine save that of the
hungry spirits of their vasty stomachs. The man whose
soul is confined to the limits of a paunch, however capacious,
could find little use for a heart, when a gizzard would answer
all his purposes so much more admirably.
The frigid ceremony, the weighty forms and solemn deportment at an English dinner-table, must exclude every
thing like mirth or social chit-chat. They assemble to eat,
and all conversation of a light or amusing character is re



ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER.          231
garded as an unpardonable interruption to the business of
the meeting. As I said before, an Englishman is never
wholly himself until armed with the carving-knife.  He
takes to the weapon as naturally as Indians to bows or Spaniards to stilettoes. The formal rules of English society do
not pretend to extend to the dinner-table.  There even Englishmen are free. Each bold Briton can gorge himself to
his own private satisfaction, provided he does not interrupt
his neighbors by irrelevant remarks, but leaves them to the
enjoyment of the same much esteemed privilege. Silence
and stuffing are the distinguishing characteristics of a grand
dinner party. And so apprehensive are they that the very
few civilities which Englishmen feel it incumbent on them to
offer to ladies, might too seriously interfere with the swilling
and cramming proceedings of the day, that the ladies all retire at a given signal, leaving the men to force nuts and guzzle wine till their stomachs or.their legs rebel against the
unnatural imposition, when they once more repair to the parlor to pick their teeth, and stare in maudlin silence at " the
women. "
It is fashionable to extol the English as the countrymen
of Shakspeare and Milton, as if, with their language, they
must necessarily have inherited the elevation of mind which
distinguished those worthies. But each sleek modern head
will be found to be much fuller of pudding than poetry.
Upon examination, all must confess that the English public
are decidedly more familiar with the living on the rival lines
of steamers than the beauties of the old English poets. And
the comparative excellence of Parisian restaurants and London chop-houses, constitutes a study much more congenial
to their taste, than musty incidents in the lives of dead
celebrities.  What do the English nation possess in common
with Shakspeare and Milton but their birthplace and their
language?  The first was the heritage of chance, the last




232                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
they have debased by confining it to the mean uses of gormandizing triflers and chaffering hucksterers. The Mahometans for many centuries were in posssesion of the holiest
places of the East, and as an evidence of how worthy they
were of the succession, they changed churches into stables, and
shrines into pedlers' stalls. The fact of the English nation's speaking the same language as Shakspeare and Milton, only makes the absence of every other noble quality the
more startling.
If the greatness of men be estimated by their circumference, and their reputations rated according to their appetites, then England has a just right to be proud of her progress. The wan figures of Shakspeare and Milton might
well hide themselves deeper in their shrouds, appalled by the
prodigious masticatory performances of the modern race of
Britons. For their exploits as trenchermen would astound
their Saxon ancestors themselves, whose tables habitually
groaned under the weight of whole roast porkers and integral sheep. But he who assigns a higher destiny to man
than, after huge dinners, to 6rack nuts and swill wine, must
acknowledge that the nation have tumbled from the summit
to the foot of Parnassus. He must confess that they are
not only destitute of the genius to produce, but the taste to
appreciate, such works as have rendered the Bard of Avon
and his blind successor immortal.  Nonsensical shows in
crystal palaces, and the silly plots of Italian operas, have
usurped the places, in the taste of the people, of the historical plays and divine poetry of the great masters of English verse.
When it is remembered that the richer portions of the
English people consider themselves happy in proportion to
the dainty gratification of their appetites, it seems strange indeed that in the gastronomic science, at least, the nation have
not excelled.  They are not original even in their gluttony.




ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER.           233
Possessing the utmost capabilities to devour, they are
destitute of the ingenuity to invent the gross dishes with
which they cram themselves. They owe to a foreign nation
the mean privilege of bestial indulgence. No one can doubt
the eminent qualifications of Englishmen to show the rest
of the world how to eat; but France has taught them how
to cook. But still, if digestion and not genius be the chiefest blessing to intellectual man, as the universal practice
among Englishmen would seem to indicate, then the modern
triumphs of mind have not been inferior to those of steam,
in Great Britain.
Frenchmen live to dance; Englishmen to eat. About
what is a Briton so anxious as his kitchen? of what is he so
proud as his cook? with regard to what is he so solicitous as
his dinner? Here all his hopes are concentrated. here'tis
his highest ambition to excel.  His cook is the stage-manager, his kitchen the green-room, and dinner-table the stage
of the theatre on which the drama of his existence is played.
The gorgeous decorations of his theatre, the assembling
fashionable audiences, and the successful performance of the
stupid pantomimes usually porduced there, constitute the exciting employment of a lifetime. Lively comedies are banished, as unbecoming the awful dignity of the place, and
even the stately periods of the heaviest tragedies are eschewed, as interruptions to " the stage business," which is
cheifly conducted by means of knives and forks. The proprietor of the establishment displays an enthusiasm  altogether unknown among the most enthusiastic of his brethren, the professional players. If he toils to be rich, it is to
acquire means of purchasing plate, liveries, wines and delicacies for his play-house. If he cringes, begs and bribes, in
his efforts for a title, it is all done to secure noble personages to grace his front boxes.
Almost every man, of every nation, cherishes in his




234                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
dreaming moments of reverie some pet scheme of ambition
or enjoyment, and no exertion seems too great, no privation
too terrible for its realization.  Mahomet, to coax into
paths of virtue his vicious followers, presented to their warm
imaginations the black-eyed houris, the brimming wine-cups
and shady fountains of paradise. But an Englishman needs
no keener incentive to exertion than a glimmering glance of
the happy period when he will be rich enough to do nothing
but eat. Ambition, pleasure and excitement are all stowed
away, like apples in a dumpling, in this superlative gratification.  The voluptuous paradise of Mahomet appears incomplete to English eyes; there is no dinner-table and no
provision made for regular meals. Without dinner heaven
itself seems scarcely worth possessing.  An Englishman's
imagination can revel in no sweeter Elysium than having plenty to eat and an appetite to enjoy it.  His antipathy to chameleons may be attributed to the fact of their
living on air. His neglect of Shakspeare may be accounted
for by his never having dedicated an ode to the charms of
roast beef.
Englishmen may well feel proud, with the rest of the
world, that human nature has produced such specimens of
her handicraft as Shakspeare and Milton. But each bold
Briton should blush to claim them as countrymen.  He
should shrink from the mortifying example, that he himself
presents, of the degeneracy of the nation since the days
when Shakspeare wrote, and Milton sung.  Their genius
was only bounded by the limits of creation; his mind revolves in the orbit of his plate; his fancy never soars, but on
the fumes of some favorite dish. He knows no intenser
joy than a plum-pudding, and rarely suffers a keener infliction than an overdone beef-steak.  He is erudite in sauces,
and deeply versed in pies.  His vast amount of kitchen statistics is really imposing. Though he is hopelessly ignorant




ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER.          235
of the general lierature of France, his noddle is tightly
packed with French cookery receipts.  His thoughts are
much more absorbed in the mysteries of roast beef and
boiled mutton than the beauties of the rival measures of
verse. His ingenuity is much more deeply immersed in the
composition of a new gravy than the comparative charms of
Hexameters and Alexandrines. In short, he is just the sort
of fellow, who, in reading Paradise Lost, would be intensely
curious to know whether Lucifer was addicted to night suppers, who would give the first joint of his little finger to find
out what Adam  and Eve had for lunch; a man to wonder
that Macbeth should have supped on "horrors," when his
royal exchequer might have afforded him the means of procuring so much more digestible stuff. " The Housekeeper's
own Cook," is his text-book, whilst poor Shakspeare remains
the gilded ornament of neglected shelves.
Nature only seems beautiful to an Englishman when she
ministers to the cravings of his belly; he never courts her
society but to alleviate the pains of table indulgences. Waving woods and lowing herds are only suggestive to his mind
of blazing fires and roast beef. Babbling brooks and placid
lakes do but remind him of the inestimable blessing derived
from the application of steam to the culinary art.  Great
ocean himself has no grandeur in his eyes, except as the
boundless means of importation of foreign edibles. He
climbs towering cliffs and wanders beside sparkling waterfalls in search of an appetite.  He makes romantic tours to
escape from the gout, and frequents picturesque and inaccessible places as the best cure for the dyspepsy. He makes
runs into Scotland for the sake of oat-meal cakes, and sojourns amidst the wild beauties of Switzerland, in order to
be convenient to goat's milk.  He goes to France to replenish an exhausted purse, and to Italy to repair a broken constitution.




236                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
If guts could perform the functions of brains, Greece's
seven wise men would cease to be proverbial, for England
would present to the world twenty-seven millions of sages.
If the English people did every thing as they eat, we should
no longer have to turn to Rome for examples of eloquence
and heroisnm.'Tis true they have produced no eminent
feeders whose gluttony has become a proverb; they can boast
no Vitellius and Heliogabalus; but it would be difficult indeed for a single individual to eat himself into celebrity in
a country where every ordinary citizen surpasses, without
effort, the immortal table exploits of the imperial voluptuaries. The English nation seem much more deeply impressed,
than were the Romans themselves, by the force and eloquence of Menenius Agrippa's fable of the belly and the members, by which he succeeded in coaxing the rebellious plebeians from  the Mons Sacer back to deserted Rome.  In
their admiration of the truth and beauty of this famous
fable they appear to have forgotten the figurative meaning intended to be conveyed, and to have taken it in its literal sense
as their motto, sacrificing the members and every thing else
to the all-devouring belly. Intellect, honor, ambition, pleasure, are all swallowed up in this vast receptacle of plumpudding and roast beef. In their enthusiastic devotion to
their voracious idol, they appear to have grown unmindful
that there are higher duties for man to perform than to eat,
that there are nobler aims for him to live for than the gratification of his appetite.  To eat, to drink, to look greasy,
and to grow fat, appears to constitute, in their opinions, the
career of a worthy British subject. I mean not to insinuate
that " to be fat" is'" to be hated."  There is something comfortable about a portly corporation, and genuine mirth it
seems to me delights to lurk in the folds of a double chin.
Flesh acquired in the merry circle of friends, the joyous
result of laughter and good cheer, is always the best evidence




ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER.          237
of a kind heart and liberal disposition. But corpulence
without jollity whispers of self, it is eloquent of the meanness of secret stuffings and solitary potations.  To be gross
without being good-humored is to be swinish, and consequently to be shunned. But an Englishman is never so
silent as when eating. Like other carnivorous animals he
is always surly over his meals.  Morose at all times, he becomes unbearably so at that interesting period of the day,
when his soul appears to cower among plates and dishes,
as if with the suspicious dread of being called upon to divide
that which it clings to, even more fondly than to money, his
dinner.
An Englishman is like all well constructed guns, he
never goes off into any displays of animation until completely
loaded with the good things of the table and primed with
good wine. And when upon such auspicious occasions he
does go off into something like gayety, there is such fearful
quivering of vast jelly-moulds of flesh, something so supernaturally tremendous in his efforts, that like the recoil of an
overloaded musket he never fails to astound those who
happen to be near him. Eminently sensual, he is not even
enthusiastic in his sensualities. He gloats rather than exults over those exquisite delights of the table, which. in his
opinion, are so soul-stiring. Though he gorges his food with
the silent deliberation of the Anaconda, yet in descanting
upon the delicacies of the last "' capital dinner " at which he
was present, he makes an approach to animation altogether
unusual with him on other occasions. He loves to dwell with
lingering affection upon the roast beef and plum-pudding he
ate and the porter he swallowed. And in discoursing with
tender minuteness upon the charms of these delicious viands, he displays a touching earnestness which might almost
be considered eloquence.
He deems no friend worth having who does not give fine




238                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
dinners; and no individual unworthy of being cultivated
who is known to have a good cook. Every Englishman is a
systematic " diner-out;' and as assiduously intrigues for
invitations to dinner, as ambitious politicians for sinecure
preferments of state.  He delightsoin entertainments proligiously expensive, but, like Vitellius, he makes it a rule to
enjoy them at his own expense as little as possible. Thus
every private citizen in Great Britain enjoys the honor of
uniting in his own person the two qualities which have rendered this Roman Emperor immortal: parsimonious as Vitellius, he is much more of a glutton.  With two such genial
traits as a basis,'tis not strange that such a pyramid of
social peculiarities has been reared as to crush all kindly
feelings towards the English in every foreign country. When
it is remembered that of all the vices, avarice is most apt to
corrupt the heart, and gluttony has the greatest tendency to
brutalize the mind, it no longer continues surprising that an
Englishman has become a proverb of meanness from Paris
to Jerusalem. The hatred and contempt of all classes of
society as necessarily attend him, in his wanderings, as his
own shadow. All those whose positions make them subservient to his ill-humor as cordially hate, as other citizens and
travellers despise him.  His passions for gold and eating
have so entirely swallowed up every other feeling, that he
appears really ignorant of the existence of many of those
pleasing little refinements which even savages instinctively
practise. His unnecessary harshness to inferiors, and his
arrogant assumption among his equals have cut him off from
all sympathy with his kind.  Equally repulsive to every
grade, he stands isolated and alone, a solitary monument of the
degradation of which-human nature is capable. Destitute of
all consideration for those beneath him,he appears to believe
that they were. created, like other domestic animals, for his
pleasure and convenience. But in his treatment of them him




ENGLISII DEVOTION TO DINNER.          239
cruel nature is restrained by no salutary apprehensions of
punishment by those numerous humane societies which are
established in England to prevent cruelty to animals.  The
charities of the nation expend themselves in tencer solicitude
for horses and asses, without experiencing one sympathizing
throb of kindness for those of their fellow-creatures who
have had the misfortune to be born poor. But as I have
before remarked, poverty is the only crime in England which
admits of no palliation.  The delicate nerves and nice sensibilities of English charity, would be shocked to penetrate
into those sinks of hungry wretchedness, where starving thousands are driven by necessity, rather than destitution of moral
principles, into open warfare with that society, from whose
selfish system of regulation they have suffered so much, and
from whose sympathy they can hope so little. The extremely
proper regard for cleanliness and acute sense of smell in Englishmen would entirely prevent their descending into those
loathsome dens, in which despairing misery is wont to hide
itself. Contact with rags and filth is vulgar. They reserve
their kindly offices for the well-washed and newly-combed
inmates of model prisons, and new-fangled houses of correction.  These dapper philanthropists shrink with loathing
from misfortune, when arrayed in the frightful paraphernalia
of woe. But let a man pick a pocket, or rob an orphan box;
let him by the frequent repetition of crime prove himself
utterly destitute of every moral principle, and he immediately
becomes an object of especial interest to the benevolent of
both sexes in England. Men of genius are employed to
construct commodious and healthy places of confinement for
these hardened rascals. Rival philanthropists vie with each
other in suggesting plans of prison discipline which shall
most conduce to their social improvement. The scoundrelsympathy which distinguishes the ostentatious charity of
Englishmen, provides humane keepers to minister to their




240                 ENGLISH ITEMS,
personal comforts, skilful physicians to waten over their
health, and pious chaplains to superintend their religious
culture; every attention is paid to the cleanliness and airy
situation of their rooms; every precaution is taken to secure for them a healthy diet; good Samaritans of the gentler sex are constantly visiting the prison wards to distribute
tracts and consolation to these irreclaimable villains.  All
this is done for these corrupt scoundrels, whilst gaunt starvation is permitted to stalk unheeded among those of the
wretched, who have as yet secured no claim upon the charity
of these benevolent benefactors of thieves, by the commission
of crime. Does it not seem strange, that some gold and so
much solicitude should be employed for the benefit of these
daring renegades from law and religion, whilst the really deserving objects of charity are left to die uncared for and
alone?  Does it not appear remarkable that all the benevolent impulses of the British nation should exhaust themselves
in exertions for these hopelessly vicious outcasts of society,
who have so unmistakably shown themselves "the stony
ground" in which the seeds of righteousness could never
take root? But they shrink in disgust from really suffering
innocence, which, if properly cared for, would be found to
be " the good ground that did yield fruit that sprang up, and
increased, and brought forth some thirty, and some sixty,
and some an hundred." The ambitious Pharisees of England have not even the mean apology for their conduct, of a
fellow-feeling for these malefactors. They do their alms before
men in order " to be seen of them."  The benefactors of
public criminals get their names into the papers; their
bounty is eulogized by " the Times." The liberal founders
of model prisons, and the charitable advocates of reformed
houses of correction, " have glory of men," whilst the modest
doer of good relieving in secret the wants of the obscure
pauper must await his recompense in Heaven, where " thy




ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER.           241
Father that seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly."
An Englishman entertains a high scorn for every man
who does not eat hugely, and drink well. He respects individuals according to their abdominal, rather than their mental, capacities. He observes with admiration their corporeal,
not their phrenological, developments.  People who have
weak digestive organs he regards with that pitying sort of
contempt with which a youthful literary pretender might be
supposed to look down upon some half-witted unfortunate.
And those who are unable to gobble food to the same extent
as an ostrich, he feels sorry for, as being deprived of man's
divinest faculty. An enormous stomach, and a plentiful
supply of gastric juice, he regards as just subjects for congratulation.  Being convinced that to eat is man's highest
destiny on earth, he assiduously cultivates the powers which
most conduce to its ample accomplishment. The dilating
power of the anaconda, and the gizzard of a cassowary, are
the pet objects of his ambition.  He leaves inexperienced
sages. to preach the importance of a mind well stored with
useful information, and a powerful mind to digest and apply
it, whilst his only care is a stomach well-stuffed with dain-:
ties; his only anxiety a generous flow of the digestive fluid.
True wisdom, in his opinion, indulges in mastication, rather
than meditation. In his judgment, the seat of all heavenly
joys is the belly, not the mind. He wonders how men can
ever be unhappy whilst they can eat and drink. There is no
disappointment so bitter, no calamity so great, that it cannot be comfortably smothered with roast beef and porter.
He knows no excitement so intense, or joy so thrilling, as a
smoking plate of ox-tail soup, backed by the usual beef and
potato accompaniments of an English dinner. And when
his eyes close, and his skin becomes distended, under the
sweetly soothing influence of these savory viands, his soul is
11




242                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
filled with a " content so absolute" that he has nothing more
to live for till dinner-time next day.'Tis true that he
breakfasts, that he lunches, takes tea, and sups, for there is
music to him in the clatter of knives and forks that cannot
be heard too often to be amusing; but the "' tocsin of his
soul is the dinner-bell;" it is his national anthem which
arouses within him all the ferocious heroism of his nature;
its stirring notes make him  eager for the assault.  Its inspiring harmony awakes him from the lethargy, and, armed
with a knife and fork," Richard is himself again."  The
daggers -of the patriot conspirators were not more fiercely
wielded against Julius Cmesar, than are these natural weapons of an Englishman, in his eagerness to get the " first
cut" from " the hot joint." The position as well as the appetite of people is reckoned according to the order of "cuts"
in which they come, and he who obtains the " first " enjoys
the honor that Englishmen most dearly prize. The secondary meals an Englishman takes to while away the dozing
hours that must elapse before the period of the great event
of the day arrives; and, besides, a certain degree of repletion is absolutely essential to his comfort. But dinner is
his grand climacteric; for dinner he reserves himself, at
dinner he makes his great display; to him dinner is the concentration of life's rarest joys; for dinner he elaborately
prepares himself; for dinner he purges, bathes, rubs, and
dresses; to dinner he looks forward with the intense longing
of the weary sentinel awaiting the corporal's guard that is
to relieve him; of dinner he makes his existence a dream;
he talks, he cares about nothing but his dinner; his only
regret seems to be that he is so constituted that he cannot
pass his life at the dinner-table. The only annoyance which
ever seriously disturbs his digestion is, that the process of
stuffing is not as harmless to him as to a Bologna sausage.
But alas for the happiness of British nature! not even the




ENGLISH DEVOTION TO DINNER.           243
innocent amusement of eating is to be indulged to excess
without retributive pains. Misery and mineral water are
as certainly the results of gluttony, as of the more active
vices.  The devotion of the English to eating is an excrescence upon their national character, which, like the
carbuncles on Bardolph's nose, makes it hideous and glaring. Its presence disfigures their more serious literature,
and it unpleasantly protrudes itself from their romance.
Their modern poets condescend to describe sumptuous repasts with the technical minuteness of a pastry-cook; and
their best novelists are vain of their knowledge in the culinary art. Their fairy tales are always crowded with ogres,
who eat hugely and drink well.  And the romance of
chivalry is outraged by having greasy thoughts of dinner
lugged in on King Arthur's round table.
Nothing is too heroic or too refined to be associated in
their minds with eating. An English lover is never so sentimental as when discussing in solitude the "first cut" of
a "hot joint."  He plies his lady-love with doughnuts instead of flowers, and believes there is no bridal present like
something good to eat; he brings her a cornucopia of chocolate drops as much more provocative of sentiment than a copy
of Lalla Rookh; he has no anxiety to discover her taste in
poetry, but is intensely curious as to what she prefers to eat;
congeniality of soul is never sought for in their fondness
for the same music, but is developed by their devotion to
the same dish.  He never asks if she admires Donizetti's
compositions, but tenderly inquires if she loves beef-steak
pies.
This sordid vice of greediness is rapidly brutalizing natures not originally spiritual. Every other passion is sinking, oppressed by flabby folds of fat, into helplessness. All
the mental energies are crushed beneath the oily mass. Sensibility is smothered in the feculent steams of roast beef, and




244                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
delicacy stained by the waste drippings of porter.  The
brain is slowly softening into blubber, and the liver is gradually encroaching upon the heart. All the nobler impulses
of man are yielding to those animal propensities, which must
soon render Englishmen beasts in all save form alone.




ENGLISH GENTILITY.              245
CHAPTER VIII.
ENGLISH GENTILITY.
IT has been declared in England, that as a nation, our
manners are unformed: indeed that we have none. I
certainly consider it much more desirable to be without any,
than to have such as every man who pretends to be a gentleman should hasten to get rid of.
Both civilized and barbarous nations have united in
considering certain pleasing little forms essentially necessary
to the preservation of society. We have all felt, and are
familiar with the charm of politeness, and yet few of us
could describe in what it really consists. I have yielded to
the influence of this nameless fascination in my intercourse
with French, Germans, and Italians; I have observed its
action among Greeks, Turks, and the wild Bedouins of the
desert, but I have sought in vain to discover its existence
among the English. They seem to glory in disregarding the
rules which the politer portions of the world have agreed
upon adopting. But not satisfied with banishing all graces
of manner, they unceasingly labor to suppress those natural
instincts which teach the swarthy sons of the desert to be
courteous, and the North American Indians to be polite.
They are terrified by the flunky apprehension, that being
polite might render them'liable to the suspicion of imitating
the French, whereas they are eager to appear peculiarly
Fnglish..  In their ignoble ambition to stand alone, they




246                 RENG LISH ITEMS.
have succeeded in making the name of Englishman synonymous with almost every term of reproach in the language,
among the mildest of which may be numbered those of glutton and blackguard.  They have become odious in their
anxiety to be unique; and I doubt whether a single individual could be found, from Paris to Constantinople, who
would not indignantly deny the imputation of possessing a
single social quality in common with an Englishman. The
nation seem deluded into the belief that their violations of
decorum are evidences of independence, and really appear to
hope that brutality can be mistaken for bravery. They are
not ashamed to acknowledge, that money or fear can induce
them to do little things, contributing to the enjoyment of
others, which, though costing them nothing, they would
never dream of performing from a polite desire to oblige.
An Englishman can be forced or paid to do any thing; he
may be coaxed to do nothing. Rank or money applied to
his impenetrable shell of sullen reserve produces the same
effect as a coal of fire placed on the back of an obstinate terrapin; the application invariably occasions in both instances
a display of awkward animation very unusual in the animals.
It would be difficult in circumnavigating the globe, to
discover a nation presenting so much that is peculiar, and so
little that irattractive, as the English. Outh' in dress, repulsive in manners, and selfish in nature, they have withdrawn themselves into an unsympathizing seclusion from the
rest of the world. Yet each self-conceited Englishman is
proud of his isolation, and exults in his surliness. He has
peopled the social solitude which his selfishness has made,
with cheering illusions of his own superiority.  He knows
no ties of sympathy, and has no friends;. but each lonely egotist gloats over the belief, that the universe contains no associates worthy of his excellence. He sees that all the world
shuns him, and he fondly imagines that he has cut the world.




ENGLISH GENTILITY.               247
The English people render themselves ridiculous by assuming airs that but ill accord with a stockish nature. In
affecting the noble they succeed in being simply arrogant,
and are morose when they would be considered exclusive;
in attempting to appear complaisant, they are always supercilious, and never fail to be rude when trying to seem free
and easy. Yet they imagine the universe to be deeply impressed by the graceful sublimity of their deportment. They
affect an eccentricity of costume, as most becoming the solitary elevation of their position. Whether in the unusually
scant habiliments in which they array themselves, they are
desirous of imitating as nearly as possible, the costumes of
their ancestors about the time of Csesar's invasion, or whether they have simply made the most of their cloth, I know
not, but certain it is that their prominent peculiarities of
dress and disposition are in admirable accord.  Hat and
head tendencies may be pronounced decidedly sharp. Collar
and general bearing, stiff, awkward, and unbending. Cravat
and pretensions, very ample. Vest and regions about the
heart, exceedingly contracted.  Coat ample, but short; indicative of their lavish expenditure upon their own persons,
but the extremely limited distance their liberality ever extends beyond. Pants very full about the seat and waist, to
match their great natural advantages for prolonged sittings,
and vast accommodations for extra supplies of food; but the
pants about the legs very tight, in accordance with the extreme closeness of his disposition, and natural aversion to
waste, whether in cloth or shillings. His shoes and movements, to sum the matter up, are always thick, heavy, and
clumsy.
An Englishman cannot escape the hallucinations peculiar to folly in seclusion. People shrink from him in disgust, and his vanity ascribes their conduct to a becoming
awe for his pre-eminence; he imagines the silence which arises




248                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
from contempt to be a deferential respect for his opinion;
he mistakes sneers for smiles of approval, and believes instinctive repugnance to his person to be a reluctance to intrude upon his reserve.  Indeed he entertains too exalted
an opinion of himself, to doubt another's appreciation of his
surpassing excellence. He can comfortably ascribe any
course of conduct to some feeling flattering to himself.
We could forgive the absence of all politeness in an Englishman, if there was one single generous quality to redeem
his incivility. We could not anticipate much gentleness
from the most affectionate toyings of the hippopotamus, nor
could we reasonably expect any great display of elegance in
the manners of an Englishman, however affable he might
endeavor to make them.  We often smilingly submit to the
most serious annoyances, when we feel convinced that they
proceed from no evil intention on the part of those who inflict them. Roughness of manner no more indicates an unkind disposition, thian servility evinces a polished mind.
And if an Englishman was the same thing to all people, charity
might attribute his brutal effrontery to hardy ignorance;
or partiality might ascribe his total disregard of every
precept practised by a gentleman, to bluff independence.
But he is as sensitive to the influence of a title, as a highstrung instrument to the touch of its performer.  A close
observer may always determine the position of a man with
whom he is conversing; by the tone in which he addresses
him. In taking him through the gamut of behavior it will
be discovered that he sounds A natural with the same facility
as G sharp. Insolent and overbearing to his inferiors, rude
and laconic in his intercourse with those he considers equals,
but softly cringing to persons above him, tortured catgut'
itself, scraped by a skilful hand, cannot give utterance to
tones more various.  The harsh twang of the wired chord,
the growling discord of the middle string, and the soft whin



ENGLISH GENTILITY.               249
ing of the treble, are all uttered by him as if each one was
his own especial note. No man professes to entertain a
more punctilious regard for etiquette, in all its minutest
ramifications, than an Englishman.  His clothes are constructed on angles. His manners are apparently regulated
by the square rule. For the most elaborate laws upon the
refinements of society, a stranger may safely consult English books; for their grossest violations, he may be referred
to the English themselves. They attempt to preserve the
letter, whilst they sacrifice the spirit of their written code of
gentility. An Englishman's ethics consist in seeming not being. His career in society is a laborious attempt to deceive,
a noisy parade of what he does not possess. His feelings are
professedly influenced by the dictates of a refinement he cannot appreciate. His manners are formed on principles he does
not understand. His existence is made up of ponderous formalities, full of pretension, and signifying nothing.
Among the numerous passengers of the steamer returning home, was an interesting young sprig of nobility —an
Honorable Mr. Somebody, the eldest son of Lord Something, as an Englishman patronizingly informed me one day,
immediately after he had enjoyed the honor of proffering a
light for the honorable young gentleman's cigar. He looked,
and was dressed precisely like ninety-nine out of every hundred Englishmen one meets in travelling.  He was pursy in
person, and very red in the face; he had short bushy
whiskers, and parted his hair behind, brushing it forward
with the utmost particularity. He wore the universal gray
check, and sported a very small cap, and very large shoes.
His near approach to a title made it incumbent on him, I
presume, to maintain a mysterious reserve to the passengers;
but he favored the captain, for hours together, with what
seemed most eloquent discourse. That delighted functionary would then devote the balance of the day to retailing to
1 1*




250                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
every one who would listen to him, the various profound
observations this remarkable young man had been pleased
to make. Although he indulged in the easy dishabille, ordinarily affected by cockney tourists, he never omitted to
make a grand toilette for dinner. He lounged about all
day in his check suit, but he always appeared just before
eight bells, in the afternoon, rigged out in black dress-coat,
white cravat, and white kid gloves, as if he had been invited
to a dinner-party. He was invariably the earliest at the
table, and the latest to leave it. And when he did leave it,
it was a remarkable fact that he always demanded of his
friend the captain, " if there was not more sea on: " the ship
appeared to roll so confoundedly, he found it difficult to
keep his legs without the support of the captain's arm. A
man who ate and drank, as he habitually did, could hardly
expect to reserve much room for breath, and he was consequently nervously anxious about the proper ventilation of
the ship, as the supply of air he was able to keep on hand
was necessarily limited. We were off the Banks of Newfoundland, and it was-as it always is even in summerbitterly cold, and very uncomfortable. The passengers all
looked blue and were shivering at the table in their overcoats; but the Honorable young man looked as red, and
perspired as freely, as if he had been roasting eggs in the
crater of Vesuvius. He insisted upon having his window
opened to its utmost extent, regardless of the chilled condition of his neighbors. Opposite him sat a lady evidently in
extremely bad health, who coughed almost incessantly; and
so injurious to her was the piercing wind blowing in at the
window, that her husband ordered a waiter to close it. The
man of the roseate visage instantly opened it again, and looked
around with a frowning stare, meant to inquire who had had
the audacity to give orders in his presence. The husband
of the sick lady then sent the waiter to him, with a polite




ENGLISH GENTILI'rY.              251
request that he would allow the window to be closed, as he
apprehended his wife might suffer seriously from the effects
of it. Without ceasing to cram his mouth, he informed
the waiter, it would perhaps be advisable for him not to'bother" about that window any more. The gentleman
then rose himself, walked across the saloon to the rubicund
son of a Lord, and, with the greatest suavity of manner, explained to him the critical situation of his wife, and begged
of him, for her sake, to permit the window to be shut. Then
the Honorable did look up from his plate, but briefly replied, with his mouth full, that he could not consent to be
suffocated though his wife was sick.  The lady retired-but
this worthy representation of English nobility continued to
stuff and swill till his shirt collar, which seemed a sort of
thermometer of the degree of spirituous heat to which he
subjected himself, ominously drooped, warning him of the
maudlin state to which strong potations had reduced him.
The English people, who have declared the deference shown
to females in America to be very vulgar, would probably consider such conduct spirited, and worthy of applause. But I
do not doubt that every American will agree with me that it
was more than contemptible, and richly deserved a kicking.
His scrupulous regard for his toilette only rendered his
rudeness more conspicuous.  We were prepared to expect
better things from a bnan who sported such evidences of a
cultivated taste.  The proof he presented in his aress, of
his having at least a vague idea of what is becoming in a
gentleman, deprived him of the single apology for his conduct that innocent ignorance mighthave affordedlm. He
deemed it due the position of a son of an English nobleman
to appear daily at the dinner-table in a dress-clat, white
cravat and white kid gloves, but he considered it no'stain on
the title of his father for him to refuse so simple a request
to an invalid lady.  His code of manners prescribed, with




252                xENGuLISH ITEMS.
rigid particularity, the style of dress, but said nothing, apparently, of what is due the other sex.  According to its
sage refinements, it would be considered an outrage for a
man, not in full dress, to appear at dinner-table, but he is
permitted to insult with impunity a sick woman-and his
conduct is applauded as a proof of manly spirit. A beautiful code   A worthy people! to profess to be the most
refined nation of this enlightened half of the nineteenth
century.  They are a huge sham; an elaborately ruffled
",dickey;" a bladder of ostentatious emptiness.
That people, like the English, should regard gloves and
a dress-coat essential to gentility, does not applear remarkable, but it does seem very extraordinary that they should
believe them its sole elements. They constitute without
doubt the garb in which it ordinarily clothes itself-but
surely politeness is the spirit which quickens gentility into
the charms of life. When the vital spark is wanting, the gay
habiliments it wears whilst living, only render the ghastly
corpse the more disgusting. It is like arraying a festering
inmate of the deAd-house for a ball.  Fashionable articles
of dress prepare us for a courtesy whose absnece is more
keenly felt; as the sight of an empty fireplace, on a cold day,
makes us shiver by reminding us of a fire.
But his indulgent countrymen might offer many very
plausible excuses for the ill-mannerly stubbornness of this
very honorable gentleman. In the first place-among men
by whom white kid gloves and a dresscoat are esteemed
such irresistible evidences of superior breeding, their fortunate wearer might have been justly indignant that any one
should presume to address him without having previously
enjoyed the honor of an introduction.  It might have been
considered proper for the husband of the sick lady to have
first gone to the captain, and begged to be presented to the
distinguished young man, before he ventured to ask so ial



ENGLISH GENTILITY.               253
portant a favor as the closing of a window when the thermometer was little above the freezing point.::.
Besides, immense importance is attached ia  England to
the amplitude and stiffness of a neckcloth-incalculale influence lurks in its tie.  And an Honorable might have
considered it degrading to the dignity of a whi'e ~avxatto
sacrifice his rights as a passenger to the whh-Aofia _ick
woman.  He had certainly paid ihs money, and thereby
purchased as maintainable a pre-enption oin th: wLdows as.any single individual' on board.  AThdi, too, he was a son of
a Lord.''''
No people have, in the organization of their government
and society, submitted to greater impositions than the
English.  Immeasurable awe of their'oppressors makes
them silent under public oppressions.  But selfisnaess has:made them such inflexible asserters of the nmost'trivia  personal privileges, that they are justly regarded as nuisances
on every steamboat and railroad on which they happen-to be
passengers.  After the surrender of all the rights that
humanity holds dearest-and the loss of every privilege
that manhood should defend, they render themselves ridiculous by their watchfulness over those that only old-women
should deom worthrof preservation. With them, the location of an umbrella, or the arrangement of a'hat-bpx, are
matters of tremendous impo4k" These:e the proud prerogatives for whih- they battle'- these are the glorious rights
they defend.  In the protection of these preious advantages,
every social compromise and genial feeling are forgotten.
The ferocious determination with which they maintain them,
puts to flight the spirit of accommodation-and they would
not, for all the women in Christendom, abate of them -one
tittle, unless some more "p#erful incentive could be offered,
than the mere fact of-their being of the gentler sex.
Our aristocratic young cockney might have apprehended.




254                ENGLISH ITEMS.
like a veritable flunky, soiling his immaculate kids by doing
a favor for an unknown individual who did not sport the
same indispensable badges of gentility. For there can be
no doubt that the true reason of his rudeness was, that he
dreaded the possibility of compromising his own position,
and that of his noble family at home, by obliging an ordinary sort of person. What means had he of ascertaining
her rank in society?'Tis true, her manners and appearance
were those of a lady —but appearances are deceitful-and
she might have been some mechanic's wife, which would have
caused his friends in England to quiz him a little about
having been " sold."  Besides, what possible claim could she
have. on him? He did not know her, and could therefore
derive no benefit from inconveniencing himself on her account.
Had she been reputed rich, or noble, no one who has ever
been in England, could doubt his alacrity to oblige her. The
remote prospect of future possible advantage would have
justified; in his eyes, any ordinary sacrifice. But could he
tave claimed the honor of a bow from a lady, who was known
to be rich, or noble, he would have smilingly endured prolonged suffocation, rather than have seen her lapdog shiver.
Hot, but eager, he would have vowed in an agony of short
gasps, what infinite honor he considered it, to be able to
manifest his deep respect for her ladyship's slightest wish.
And after the infliction had passed, he would have embraced
the earliest opportunity afforded by the recovery of his
wind, to express to her ladyship the hope, that her ladyship's
charming little pet had suffered no inconvenience during the
gusty weather of, the previous afternoon.  To us, among
whom a lady always receives the deference due the sex,
whether she happens to be a stranger, or an acquaintancerich or poor-such reflections must seem somewhat extraordinary-but they are, nevertheless, eminently English.
Prudent as he is by lnature-economical and penurious




ENGLISH GENTILITY.               255
in all his habits, as education has made him, there is no
outlay an Englishman makes more reluctantly, than that of
politeness. He often invests it,'tis true, but always cautiously and with hopes of usurious interest.  Gratuitous displays,
like his other charities, are but rarely indulged in. He may
perhaps be somewhat excusable upon the principle that
where little has been given, not much ought to be required.
He has certainly not been endued with so large a supply of
the article as to be at all lavish in its expenditure. Being
conscious, I suppose, of his deficiency, he reserves his politeness, as he does his best wines, which are only to be served
when he is honored by the presence of his betters. Ile
deems it a reprehensible degree of wastefulness to display
either, except on extraordinary occasions.  His civility is,
consequently, like the Sunday-clothes of a man, who only
indulges once a week in the luxury of a clean shirt-and sits
ill upon him.  His smile of welcome fades into servility,
and his attempts at good-humored cordiality dwindle into
obsequiousness.
In venturing among the various tribes of semi-barbarians,
that they appear to think inhabit the different States of
America, Englishmen find it convenient to leave behind
them the unwieldy mass of formalities, by which they have
been all their lives oppressed —and generally come among
us in the undisguised nakedness of their vulgarity. Wholly
freed from the restraints imposed upon them at home by the
different grades in society, they indolently luxuriate in the
inherent brutality of their nature.  They constantly violate
not only all rules of decorum, but the laws of decency itself,
with the apparent belief that we know no better than to
submit to it. They abuse our hospitality-insult our peculiar institutions-set at defiance all the refinements of life,
and return home lamenting the social anarchy of America,
and retailing their own indecent conduct as the ordinary




256                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
customs of the country. They will invite themselves into
private houses-go to an elegant ball in soiled overcoatstake liberties with perfect strangers by a minute catechism,
that they would not dare to venture on in England-and
then abuse us as aspiring savages, utterly ignorant of the
most ordinary usages of society. But the cool assurance with
which they attempt to patronize us as inferiors-and the
intrepidity with which they do the most outrageous things,
ceases to appear so remarkable, when it is remembered how
many there are among us who believe, with these upstart
cockneys, that a titled Englishman could do nothing, and an
ordinary cit very little, that might be justly objected to as
low-bred, or indecent.  According to such people, if an
Englishman is insulting in his familiarity, he only means to
show us republicans that he is not proud of his superiority
-if he is rude to a lady, he only means to be playful-if
he is impertinent to a man,'tis only a way they have in
England.  These anglicized Americans will insist that a
Briton can do no wrong. He may revile our country, and
yet be guilty of nothing more than a little innocent badinage.
He may perpetrate the most startling offences against refinement-and yet he does it all in his laudable anxiety to
be sufficiently supercilious and condescending to the obliging
toadies who surround him. His clumsy attacks upon his
entertainers pass for wit —his scurrilous abuse of Americans
is declared to be sarcasm-and an insufferable blackguard is
ingeniously metamorphosed into an elegant gentleman by
these degenerate Americans, who only require the livery to
render them such admirable lackeys, that even their English
friends might approve their servility. An Englishman, who
arrives in America, is generally beset by just such despicable
specimens of freemen, who consider any Englishman greatly
preferable as a companion to the most accomplished American
gentlemen.  And so long as such unworthy sones of our




EN-GLISH GENTILITY.             257
Republic are permitted to infest unpunished our larger cities,
so long will our whole nation be confounded with these straggling renegades. When these Britons are surrounded by
such fellows, eager to submit to every indignity, and receive
any insult to enjoy the advantage of their society, they would
surprise one if they did not presume upon the supposed obsequiousness of the nation. These American flunkies are
thus instrumental in involving their entire country in their
own degradation.  They ought to be mounted upon the
pillar of infamy, like the bankrupt merchants of Venice in
old times,
"for the hand of scorn
To point his slow unmoving finger at."
It should be the duty of every good citizen to revile them.
They ought to be denounced in every newspaper, and hooted
by every crowd, till they were convinced that the simple
dignity of an American citizen was somewhat preferable to
playing the snubbed serving-man to any Lord in England.
During my first voyage across the Atlantic we had on
board the old Caledonia two rich London merchants and
West India sugar-planters, who had been out to the West
Indies to endeavor if possible to relieve their estates from
the ruinous effects of the general emancipation of slaves.
The elder gentleman kept a journal filled with absurd complaints of America, but containing much valuable statistical
information respecting omnibus fares up and down Broadway-the comparative expense of boot-blacking in the different cities in the Union; and the price of every ride and every
meal the gentlemen had taken during their sojourn in America. After having advanced every possible objection to the
country and the people, he went on to state that " Niagara
was no great things after all; that he had seen infinitely
finer waterfalls in Scotland or Wales-that the Americans




258                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
made'a great blow' about Niagara, but that he had discovered more water in a little book that he had paid sixpence for, than he had been able to find at their boasted'falls."' We might place a just estimate upon this grumbling tourist's opinions of America and Americans, from
this objection of his to the greatest wonder of the Western
Hemisphere. Had he found fault with the grandeur of the
Falls-the picturesqueness of the scenery; had their height
or shape not suited him, there would have been some plausibility in his objection; but to complain of the quantity of
water tumbling into the river below, exposed at once the
absurdity of the man, coming to our country resolved to disapprove of all he saw. So successful however had this
gentleman been in the management of his diary, and so
eager was he to read it in detail to every passenger on board,
that he was, soon after our sailing from port, dubbed Mr.
Pips.  His friend, who affectionately followed him about,
listened to him as an oracle, and kindly offered himself as a
butt for his witty sayings, was familiarly known as " My
Child." One day, when they were in a greater gale of merriment than ordinary at the dinner-table, " Mr. Pips " challenged " the Child" to mortal combat, in a chicken fight.
The challenge was instantly accepted, the fight to come off
immediately after dinner. I was exceedingly curious to
find out the manner of proceeding in this " chicken fight;"
and great was my astonishment when I discovered that
each gentleman sat himself down on the deck, and clasped
his hands over his knees, that were drawn up as much under
his chin as possible. His wrists were in this position securely tied together, and a strong stick run through the
elbows, and under the knees, completing a process known
among boys at school as "bucking."  When this somewhat
extraordinary arrangement was completed of each gentleman, he was left entirely without the power of motion ex



ENGLISH GENTILITY.              259
cept a slight spasmodic movement about the head and toes.
The sport was, when the two were placed face to face, for
each one to endeavor to insert his toes under the soles of
the other, and thereby tumble him over on his back, when
he rolled helplessly till his " bottle-holder" had sufficiently
recovered from his laughter to pick him up.
The fearful hum of preparation is heard in the distance.
Excited men and anxious women crowd the cleared deck.
Every thing betokens that some deed of dreadful note is to
be done. All eyes are turned towards that end of the ship
from which the rival combatants are to issue forth. No
word is spoken, and the nervous fidgeting of the passengers
alone denotes the intensity of their suspense. At last the
little knots of particular friends appeared, and in their midst
were the two combatants arrayed for battle. Slowly and ma- 
jestically the impatient rivals are bumped noiselessly along
the deck by their attendant backers. Their eyes gleam dazzlingly upon each other, as they approach. Each one bears his
head proudly erect, and his dilated nostrils seem to indicate
that the souls of a thousand heroes are being stirred violently within him. When finally prepared for their work,
each ambitious aspirant to Olympic honors sat silent, solid
and immovable as the grim statue of Memnon. Indeed,
however sprightly he might have been in his intentions, a
very slight distortion about the head and toes was the utmost extent of locomotion, of which he was capable. They
are now face to face. During one awful moment they
pause, for a last mighty inhalation of breath and valor,
when, with the agility of the lightning's flash, they join hostile toes, as angry bulls lock horns, and at once the promiscuous skrimmage begins. Never was such animation among
toes witnessed before; the Highland fling was a minuet
compared to it. Such scrambling and scrouging- such
squirming and screwing it was really exhilarating to behold.




260                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
The unusual exertions of the untrained champions seem
strangely overcoming to both, as they swell and grow red
like turkey-cocks. Their fight soon demonstrated the fact,
that bottom does not always indicate wind; for however
amply endowed each gentleman might be with the former,
in the latter he was not long in showing himself lamentably
deficient. Brief but violent was the conflict. Each corpulent champion wheezed like an overcharged locomotive.
" Science however must prevail." The right foot of " the
Child," possessing a cunning that the too confident " Pips"
knew not of, by a dexterous flourish suddenly toppled his
puffing opponent from his centre of gravity. Exhausted,
the ponderous Pips tumbled upon the resounding deck.
Overthrown, not vanquished, he wildly glared upon his triumphant foe, who essayed to flap his pinioned arms, as he
loudly crowed in exulting mockery. The peculiar manner
of doing up was naturally calculated to produce a considerable stretch both of hide and breeches. And when by the
casualties of battle a champion was, like a cracked dinnerpot, turned bottom upwards, with both skin and cloth drawn
tight as a drum-head, the exposition was immense. No one,
but those who witnessed it, can conceive of the very ludicrous appearance of a plump middle-aged gentleman, tightly
trussed up as a Christmas goose, and convulsively wallowing on his back. HIe afforded an " aspect " as unusual and
much more startling than that presented by the famous
frizzled chicken, of fabled memory.
Rolling in helpless agony-deaf to the jeers of the bystanders at the absurdity of his exposed position-the fallen
combatant is only eager for a renewal of the fray. At last
his convulsed bottle-holder so far recovered the command of
his muscles as to lift him first into a sitting position, and
then bump him along as before, till within reach of his rejoicing foe, when they again joined toes, as if life depended




ENGLISH GENTILITY.               261
on the result. Once more commences the shuffling and
scuffling, the rearing and pitching-each gentleman creating
as much noise, and kicking up as great a dust, as if he had
been miraculously metamorphosed into a centipede, with his
hundred feet, instead of a single pair. Fierce continues the
doubtful contest. Black and turgid, the big veins start
from their glowing fronts. Their knotted muscles writhe
and twist in the desperation of the fearful struggle. Their
sinews crack, and nerves quiver in that tremendous strain.
Renewed wriggling and twisting-sliding and slipping, announce the intensity of their final efforts-when the swollen
cheeks and protruding eyes, accompanied by the shortening
gasps of the Child seemed ominous of his approaching fall.
By a sudden sleight, the toes of Pips are surreptitiously inserted under the weary soles of the Child, whose heels unexpectedly salute the setting sun. Heavily he rolls from
side to side, like a high-pooped Dutch brig in a storm; affording during his prostration, to the curious among the
spectators, an admirable opportunity for studying prominences, which are certainly not laid down on phrenological
charts..The laughter again subsiding, the Child is put into a
fighting position, and at it they go, as if this was but the beginning of their conflict. The assault renewed, encouraging
acclamations incite the flagging foes. The noisy bustle once
more shakes the trembling deck, as whirling, twirling, rumbling, tumbling, they writhe in the agony of their struggles.
Hot and furious raged the combat. The laughing cheers of
the excited spectators, ringing merrily forth, threw the laboring combatants into spasms of exertions, still more' terrible.
Their suppressed breathing and clenched teeth told of the
earnestness of their endeavors.  As regardless of "'all
around, above, beneath," as two infuriated ants locked in
deadly conflict-they heave, they slide, they roll. in the fight,




262                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
frightening women, and overturning campstools, in the violence of the onset. By heaven it was a noble sight to see!
The heroic strife of these valiant Englishmen, contending
for the smiles of approving beauty, was worthy of the chivalric days of Britain. I feel abashed whilst making this feeble
record of their exploits. They deserve some modern Homer to sing their prowess, and embalm in Epic verse their
fame. The story of their deeds should become a part of
history; their names should be the battle cry of the Erring
knights of every cockpit in Christendom; and the details of
this dread combat, between doughty Pips and his illustrious
Child, should be as familiar to " heeler " and " pitters" as
the cant phrases of the mug. Frantic were still the efforts of
both. But the invidious God of battles semed still to favor
the boastful Pips.  The Child seemed stricken by some sudden fear, a panic crept through every limb, his muscles became relaxed; his nerves shook, his eyes rolled fearfully,
and he would have fled had flight been possible. Escape
was hopeless.  He struggled yet awhile feebly on, when
again he rolled at the feet of the redoubtable Pips. A hundred straining throats hail the victorious hero, whose visage,
resplendent with smiles and exertion, beamed forth his
thanks.
Both gentlemen had arrived at that respectable period
of life, when certain corporeal developments become rather
prominent. And now " the Child," with his bluntest extremity turned towards blushing heaven and the ladies, exhibited a portion of his person, which, however honorable it
may be deemed, is usually considered most presentable, when
veiled by the mysterious folds of a coat-tail. But it may be
altogether proper, or even fashionable, for aught I know, for
gentlemen in England to make these somewhat remarkable
exhibitions to the public. All this may have been English
gentility, indulging in a little ground and lofty tumbling,




ENGLISH GENTILITY.              263
merely to show us innocent republicans, that the thing had
joints, and could sometimes use them-but to a plain man,
like myself, it seemed much more like what I should now
designate as the quintessence of cockney vulgarity. Suppose
that during the tour of Mr. Dickens or some other scribbling
Englishman, a couple of our western pioneers had been suddenly seized with the immodest desire of exhibiting, in this
extraordinary way, their fair proportions, in the ladies'
cabin of one of our Southern steamboats.  We should never
have heard the last of it. It would have been heralded from
one end of Europe to the other, as irresistible evidence of
the vulgarity of the American character, and obscenity of
American taste. Even the heinous crimes of spitting and
bolting would have paled into petty vices, beside this fearful
outrage of decency. We should have had lengthy dissertations, in every language in Europe, upon the indecent license
of American manners. Our men would have been denounced
as devoid of all modesty, and our women of all shame.
English journals would have piously regretted the fearful influences of vice and corruption, which have always existed in
republics; and English philanthropists would have seriously
debated the propriety of sending out missionaries to improve
our morals. We should have been held up to the world as
a warning'example of the avenging curse of heaven, for. those
twin abominations, slavery and democracy. All pious, moral
and discreet people would have been considerately put upon
their guard, against us lawless republicans.  They would
have been earnestly warned against all connection, public or
private, with a people, whose total disregard even of the
decencies of life make them such dangerous companions for
the true friends of law and order.  Our influence would be
deprecated, our society shunned, and our principles condemned as inimical to all that good men love, because for



264                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
sooth, a couple of western hunters had taken it into their
heads to make an exhibition, which it seems an Englishman
can make daily without exciting either surprise or comment.
The English aristocracy have issued their edict. which
all flunky Americans obey, that the wearers of linsey-woolsey and broadcloth can have nothing in common.  Their
language and actions, though they may happen to be identically the same, are placed in widely different categories.
The pranks, which in a backwoods American would be stigmatized as shocking obscenity, become, when perpetrated by
a rich Englishman, charming evidences of sportive humor.
The English and their echoes still persist in reversing the
scriptural precept, and always judge most harshly of those,
who have enjoyed fewest advantages. A backwoodsman might
do something offensive to refined taste, for which his ignorance
should be a sufficient apology. But these illiberal judges
would vituperate him,but blandly smile upon the improprieties
of a man, whose wealth and associations in society ought to
have taught him better. In a western American " the
chicken fight" would have been an abomination;'but when
enacted by a rich West India merchant, and planter, it
was but a playful acknowledgment to the ladies and gentlemen on board the steamer, that the proportions of his person
had not materially changed, but only become more fully developed since his days of tight breeches and round jackets.
From the American, similarly situated, every woman should
fly in blushing confusion; but any lady, who should have
the delicacy to feel shocked by the graceful exposures of an
English Gentleman, would be ridiculed as affecting a false
modesty, that nobody but Americans are guilty of. I aml
not very familiar with the science of anatomy, and there
may exist a sufficient difference between the conformation of
a lean pioneer, and a corpulent Englishman, to justify the




ENGLISH GENTILITY.              2'65
distinction they seem inclined to make in favor of the latter.
And the English may very probably be right, in supposing
that there is something much more alarming to ladies in the
angular projections of a lank western hunter, than in the
plump proportions of one of their own beef-fed countrymen.
12




266                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
CHAPTER IX.
ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
THE high-churchmen, always great sticklers for birth and
pedigree, are somewhat squeamish as to the origin of the
Established Church of England. They are loath to attribute their greatest blessing to their greatest tyrant, and
would fain discover in the various excesses of the old religion, the causes of the Reformation, which were snugly
stowed away in that bloated budget of atrocities, fat Henry
himself.
If there be any of that importance about mere origin,
which English churchmen are eager to attach to it, they
may be somewhat excusable, perhaps, for their solitary belief in their own infallibility. The Church of England certainly owes its existence to the most exalted source, and has
never disgraced its lineage. If Henry could return to earth,
he would have no reason to blush for the degeneracy of his
offspring. It has always borne about it unmistakable marks
of its descent, and still continues to practise some of the peculiar virtues of its founder. The'easy indifference, with
which the earlier primates could turn from the terrible
scenes of their persecutions to the touching offices of religion,
bears a startling family resemblance to the indelicate haste
of the tyrant in marrying Jane Seymour, the day after the
execution of Anne Bullen, when the latter had so recently
been the object of his tenderest solicitude. Does not the




ORIGIN OF TIIE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.        267
malignity, with which they pursued both Puritans and
Catholics, seem but the reflection of Smithfield's blazing
fires, which Henry kindled alike for the followers of Luther,
and the adherents of the Pope?  And do not the.ostentatious regard for forms and the hollow ceremonies of the
modern Church, the fondness of its ministers for display,
and their eagerness for riches, still recall some of the prominent attributes of the corpulent Henry?
When it is remembered how much this modern Blue
Beard was given to matrimony and extravagance, it no
longer continues surprising that he quarrelled with the
Pope in order to take unto himself a new wife, and that he
destroyed the monasteries to satisfy his avarice.  To gratify
his old passions, and acquire the means of indulging new,
was too much in accordance with Henry's disposition to need
any ghostly advisers in hurrying on the Reformation. Once
commenced, the work went bravely on.  The dispute with
the Pope, begun to gratify the king's love of Anne Bullen,
was carried to extremities to gratify His Majesty's love of
gold. Rich monasteries were pillaged. Their confiscated
lands were divided among worthless court favorites-their
treasures squandered in idle court shows. The lazy monks
were expelled-their well-stocked larders destroyed-their
saintly images broken-and altars overthrown.  Their old
tenants were loaded with heavier tithes to support a new
clergy, who hankering more after lawn and lucre than venison,
substituted in their worship the king for the Virgin Mary, and
filled up the calendar of -abolished saints with a long list of
their titled patrons.
It was a gloomy omen for the future purity and toleration of the Established Church, that it had sprung from the
lusts, and been founded in the rapacity of a tyrant. From
such a beginning, it appears but natural, that bigotry should
color its doctrines, and persecution mark its course.  It




268                 ENGLISII ITEMS.
seemed necessary to infect it with every species of worldliness, in order to render it worthy of its royal progenitor,
who had the sacrilegious audacity to clothe his vices in the
holy garb of religion, and to make his conscience the vile
pretext for a viler action.  The divorce from  Catherine,
Henry assures us, was the result of pious alarm; his having
so long violated a canon of the Church, founded on the
Levitical law, was certainly well calculated to produce it.
But during the eighteen years of his marriage with Queen
Catherine of Arragon, the king's scruples had comfortably
remained in the profoundest slumber, and they were only
awakened with love for Anne Bullen. It is surprising, after
so long a nap, how amazingly sprightly His Majesty's conscience became.  Its delicacy and refinement may be justly
estimated, by the somewhat prolonged period of its torpidity.
Had -Henry, apart from all religious considerations, been
actuated by a single noble impulse,-had he simply rebelled
against the encroaching tyrannies of Rome, or only attempted to curb the excesses of her arrogant priesthood, the origin
of the High Church of England might have still possessed
something of that nobility, which its zealous adherents would
fain ascribe to it. But up to the period of his outbreak
against Rome, no prince in Christendom had appeared more
steadfast in his devotion to the Pope, than his corpulent
Majesty. In the mildness of his enthusiasm, he had descended from his kingly dignity, laid aside his royal robes, and
entered the public ring of theological wrangling to contend,
in behalf of the Pope, with that cunning wrestler, Martin
Luther himself. The rude reformer did not receive him
with that tender consideration that a royal personage might
reasonably have expected; but though he richly deserved the
rough treatment his temerity exposed him to, his zeal
merited all the "mouth honor" conferred on him  at the




ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.         269
time.  And after having been publicly complimented by the
special commendation and affection of the Pope, he could
sport the sonorous title of " Defender of the Faith," with the
blushing consciousness of having won it.
After the eighteen yez's of uninterrupted connubial
quiet with Catherine of Arragon, the king's religious scruples became suddenly alarmed at having so long lived in
the holy estate of matrimony with a brother's widow. Being
at last awakened to the enormity of his crime, it was but
natural that a tender conscience like his should have been
assailed with all sorts of sulphurous visions of purgatory, and
that his fragile frame should have been fearfully shaken by
superstitious horrors of every shape. What mortal could
calmly endure the intense anguish of such remorse? He
flew to Rome for relief. And it was only when Pius VII.
hesitated by granting him a divorce to set aside the dispensation of a venerable predecessor for the solemnization of
the marriage, that Henry's devotion was turned to bitterness. In the excess of his virtuous indignation he resolved
to defy the authority of that church, whose canons he had
such holy horror of breaking, even with the connivance of its
head. He felt there was a higher power whose simple fiat
should outweigh the indulgences of all St. Peter's successors together. The Levitical law was more sacred to him
than the accumulated bulls of a thousand Popes. Alone
he stood forward the champion of morality and religion, the
avenger of outraged decency and the advocate of civil rights.
Such distinguished sincerity, such refined delicacy, it seems
to me, should entitle their possessor to the highest admiration of posterity.  The churchmen whose fortunes he
founded should be eternally grateful for the illustrious example of piety he gave, in shrinking from so sinful a connection; they should unceasingly thank him for the admirable evidence of intrepidity he afforded, when he resisted




2'70                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
that power, which would have forced him to continue it.
Since they cannot canonize him, but are allowed to indulge a
lpassion for heraldry, they might, at least, quarter his arms
over the door of every established church in the kingdom.
The factions might, however, declare that it was a little remarkable that Henry was never disturbed by those praiseworthy apprehensions of sin till he had grown weary of the
person of his wife, who was some years older than himself.
But surely such a coincidence should not stain the purity of
his conduct. Because he had passed eighteen years of his
life in evil-doing is no reason why he should not have experienced the greatest eagerness to atone for past faults.
He never pined for a divorce till he had wholly yielded himself up to his unruly passion for Anne Bullen. That should
not have lessened his anxiety to free himself from a connection, revolting alike to his pious feelings as a Christian and
his moral sentiments as a man.  HIe never questioned the
divine right of the Pope till he refused to minister to his
vices. But ought this fact to tarnish the glory he won in
freeing England from the rule of the spiritual tyrant? Such
a monarch, actuated by motives so pious, so holy, so exalted, the Church of England may well feel proud of, as its
founder.
But there are churchmen so little orthodox in their estimate of Henry's religious character, that they would willingly prove the church a foundling, the mysterious results
of a happy combination of circumstances, instead of allowing her all the advantages of her distinguished parentage.
The atrocity of the attempt is only equalled by its folly.
History fortunately furnishes facts which establish the illustrious pedigree of the church as indisputably as if it had
been recorded in the Herald's College.  These skeptics may
declare that the public mind had been gradually prepared
for the great religious revolution, and that Henry, for the




ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.        2'71
only time in his life, consulted the wishes of the people in
breaking his allegiance with the Pope.
There can be no doubt but that the overgrown power of
Rome had become extremely irksome in England. Many
of the nobles were anxious to see the country freed from the
inordinate riches and encroaching disposition of the clergy.
Although the rival forms of the two churches were, to them,
matters of supreme indifference, as the accommodating elasticity of their consciences during the rapid religious changes
under Mary, Edward and Elizabeth abundantly proved, yet
they both feared and hated the arrogant priesthood, whose
superior opulence overshadowed the magnificence of their
own order. The immense riches accumulated by the six hundred and forty-five monasteries, the ninety colleges, the two
thousand three hundred and seventy-four chantries and free
chapels, and one hundred and ten hospitals which Henry was
pleased to plunder, are almost incredible. One of their own
partisans concluded that they possessed little less than onefifth of the entire landed property of England, besides their
enormous revenues arising from other sources. When it is
remembered-that in addition to wealth so unusual, all tonsured persons enjoyed an immunity from civil punishment
for crimes, it is no longer surprising that they should have
been regarded with fear and suspicion, even by their own party.
Possessing, as they did, such extraordinary means of every
vicious indulgence, without the restraint imposed on other
members of society by the civil law, it is not improbable
that their excesses merited the exaggerated reports made
by Henry's commissions of visitation. But so far was this
natural desire for an improvement in the morals of her
priesthood from inciting any alienation from the old church,
that when Henry first attacked her, by his daring spoliation
of the smaller convents, a rebellion convulsed the north of
England, and disturbances occurred in various portions of the




272                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
kingdom. What better evidence of strong attachment to
the Catholic Church could be adduced than that the tyrant,
with all the terror of his name, was unable to quell the indignation of the people at his officious tampering with their
faith? The dissatisfaction was much increased upon the
destruction of the larger convents in 1540. Even Henry,
whose fierce nature seemed to delight in warring against
God and man, became alarmed, and he attempted to enlist
the most powerful of the nobles on his side, by bribing them
with the confiscated estates of the monasteries.  Does
such universal disaffection, from so despotic a government,
evince any eagerness, on the part of a nation, for religious
changes?  No, no! It was Henry, not the people, who had
quarrelled with the Pope. His vices and not their devotional feelings were to be gratified by the Reformation. If
Catherine of Arragon had been younger, or Anne Bullen
less beautiful, lEngland might have become Protestant, in the
lapse of ages, but she would have escaped the crushing
weight of the hierarchy.
When Henry, after his rupture with the Pope, gracefully
resigned the magnificent title of " Defender of the Faith,"
and assumed the one no less imposing, of "' Protector and
Slupreme Head of the Church," he conducted himself as
step-fathers, on such occasions, are wont to do. He at once
commenced a rigid inquiry into the morals of his adopted
charge. The monks were reported to be somewhat loose
and erratic in their habits. Their tender guardian declared
them incapable of managing their own affairs, and wishing,
I presume, to present to the world a startling example of
his superior justice and piety, coolly robbed them of all
their possessions, and would himself have pocketed the
money, if he had dared. Every friend of law and order
felt outraged, by the king's glaring violation of the sacred
rights of property. Admitting that the monasteries har



ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.         273
bored individuals who were guilty of excesses, and even
crimes, before what legal tribunal had they been arraigned?  By what jury had they been condemned? By
what right had the king become censor of the morals of his
subjects? What stretch of the royal prerogative had given
him this sweeping power of confiscation, to regulate the private lives of the people?
The monks, too, with all their jolly vices, had many and
warm friends in the kingdom. The great mass of the population, who would have hailed with joy a decent reformation
of their morals, were alarmed into resistance by this terrible
blow, struck, through the monasteries, at the Church itself.
Besides, there were many who continued to entertain an affectionate weakness for the religious houses, in spite of all
their failings.  Those who had dead friends to be prayed
for, those whose sinful courses made them look forward with
trembling eagerness to the masses that were to be said for'.
their souls. after they had been called to their final reckoning,-the benighted travellers who missed the cheering hospitality of the scattered monks, and the beggars who daily
received alms at the gates of the monasteries,-all assisted
to swell the wail of timorous indignation at the sacrilege of
Henry.
The pious haste with which he devoted the incontinent
abbots and their followers to destruction, was no doubt increased by the gratifying prospect of their confiscated treasures, which were by no means unacceptable to a spendthrift of his expensive tastes and improvident disposition.
But, with the impious audacity to strike the blow, he lacked
the moral courage to enjoy the fruits of his wickedness.
Bewildered by the storm of opposition which assailed him,
he was com.pelled to dole out the pilfered estates of the
church to the nobility, hoping, by making his crime their
interest, to enlist these ready allies of evil on his side.
2*




274                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
Thus cowardice defeated the only possible benefit that might
have arisen to the state, from so flagrant an outrage in its
head. Had Henry retained these immense treasures, his
subjects might have been relieved, at least, from the burden of "supporting the dignity of the crown," and: providing for the public defence "-two favorite pretexts, in
despotic governments, for squandering the money of the
people. But, what he did not lavish in idle parade, having
become the victim of his own fears, he distributed to covetous courtiers, to swell their large fortunes, whilst he remained as needy and craving as before. His successors,
backed by these powerful nobles as their friends, and supported by the numerous party of reformers who had sprung
up in the kingdom, possessing all the facilities he had afforded them for completing the work he had himself commenced, were still unable peaceably to establish the High
Church of England. Rebellion and insurrection followed
the attempt, and Burnet admits that Edward was forced to
send over for foreign soldiers, to intimidate the obstinate
bigotry of the people.
When Henry, with all his terrible machinery for awing
discontent into silence, had been unable, without outbreaks,
to interfere with the religious opinions of the nation, it is
scarcely to be supposed that Edward, or even the more resolute Elizabeth, could ever have established the new church,
had he not prepared the way for them, by wholly changing
the estate of the upper house of Parliament, when he destroyed the monasteries. The abbots and priors, to whom
writs of summons had been previously issued, added to the
twenty-one Bishops, had always given the Spiritual Lords
the majority in the House of Peers.  These, whether actuated by attachment to their belief, or by worldly considerations, would always have firmly resisted every attempt at
alterations in their form of worship.




ORIGIN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.       275
Who can doubt that it was Henry's will, and not the
general desire of the people, which commenced the Reformation in England? Who can pretend that the destruction of the monasteries was not the immediate cause of its
accomplishment? Had the expelled churchmen been allowed to retain their places in the House of Lords, the Protestant successors of Henry could never have obtained that
powerful influence over the nation which was derived from
a decree of Parliament. And, though the people murmuringly submitted to despotic power, when sustained by the
instinctive obedience to law with which they had been
reared, they would never have yielded rights so dear as
their religious belief to tyranny alone. So tremendous a
revolution could never have been effected in England, but
for Henry's destruction of the monasteries.
The tyrant's unholy love for Anne Bullen first induced
him to set up a church of his own; his spoliation of the
monasteries enabled his successors to sustain it. Henry's
lust produced the Church of England; his rapacity established it.




2 7 6               ENGLISH ITEMS.
CHAPTER X.
PERSECUTION UNDER TIIE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.
LOODY Mary has never lacked a chronicler of her wicked
deeds. Her cruelty and bigotry are themes, upon which
historians of successive ages have dilated with increasing
eloquence. All persons of rank, who suffered during her
reign, are thrust into prominent places in history, and even
obscure mediocrity is lighted into immortality by the flashing fires of Smithfield.  Every state trial is noted with
eagerness, every fine recorded, and the list of the martyrs
burnt at the stake is preserved with commendable accuracy.
Leaders of rival parties have vied with each other in heaping
obloquy on her memory. But no politician ever sought
popularity, or author renown, by dwelling on the persecutions
which followed under her Protestant successor.
Yet the implacable fury of Elizabeth was not directed
against a single sect. The omission of the surplice and the
use of the crucifix were crimes, in her eyes, equally deserving
of punishment; and Puritans and Catholics both became
the objects of her remorseless bigotry. It seems the anxious
wish of Englishmen, of every grade, that the lurid glare of
persecution under Elizabeth should pale before the vaunted
glories of her reign. In remembering the eloquence of
Shakspeare, and the learning and wisdom of Bacon, and
boasting of the intimidation of their Scottish neighbors, and
the continued subjugation of the Irish, in exulting in the




PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  277
deeds of Drake and Hawkins, and the destruction of the
Spanish armada, men are too prone to forget the religious
intolerance of their favorite sovereign.
No record has been kept of the obnoxious sects who
perished in prison from privation, nor can we tell how many
were reduced to beggary, by the infliction of enormous fines
or the entire confiscation of their estates. But we do know,
from undoubted authority, that under this wise, chaste and
most Christian princess, two hundred and four Catholics alone
lost their lives for opinion's sake, and that the fearful clank
of the rack was rarely silent during the latter years of her
reign.
In obsequious Parliaments, that knew no law but the
Queen's pleasure, statute succeeded statute, robbing them
of every right an Englishman holds dear. The strict pro.
hibition of all public enjoyment of their religion was not
deemed sufficient.  The most clandestine performance of
their rites was strictly forbidden; priests were banished
from the kingdom on pain of death, and those were punished
who were aware of their presence, without giving immediate
information. Ingenious tests were contrived, by which the
persecuted Catholics were excluded from all offices of trust
and honor. The sacred precincts of their homes were invaded by spies and informers, armed with a revolting oath,
the refusal of which hurried the inoffensive victims to prison,
or subjected them to ruinous fines and confiscations. The
terrible tribunals of the Star Chamber and High Commission
Court deprived them of those only guarantees of personal
freedom-the habeas corpus act and trial by jury.  But even
when allowed: by an ostentatious parade of clemency, the
benefit of the ordinary course of law, what hope had they of
receiving justice in a community in which men regarded a
Papist as a dangerous criminal? Elizabeth, however, when
she occasionally made these specious exhibitions of pretended




278                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
justice, fearing that the conscientious scruples of her subjects might, by chance, prove stronger than their prejudices,
resorted to means, unheard of at the present day, to secure
verdicts in accordance with her own relentless disposition.
Sheriffs had general orders to select such jurors as they believed favorable to the Queen's views; but when this expedient occasionally failed, whole juries have been fined and
imprisoned for daring to return verdicts in known opposition
to her wishes. Such were the machinations against the oppressed Catholics, and such the remorseless bigotry of the
Queen, that even this semblance of doing them justice. according to the Common Law of England, became a heartless
mockery.
The Archbishops, under Elizabeth, enabled by the boundless authority of the Court of High Commission rigidly to
enforce the Acts of Supremacy, of Uniformity, and others,
enacted by debased Parliaments for the entire extirpation
of Popery, readily won for themselves a notoriety worthy of
the Inquisition in its blackest days. The eagerness they
displayed in their too ready obedience to these nefarious
enactments, by pursuing unoffending Catholics, might, in the
eyes of bigoted high-churchmen, justly entitle them to be
considered ornaments of the new religion, which, avowedly,
had been purged of all the superstition and intolerance of
the old. But could this intemperate zeal, whose end was
blood, obtain the approbation of our God, who commands to
forgive our enemies, and to pray for those who despitefully
use us?  And yet such holy hypocrites as Parker and
Whitgift, who professed, in opposition to the Pope, to take
the Bible as their guide, could employ such degraded emissaries as Topcliffe to dog the footsteps of their pretended
enemies, to pervert their confidential discourses into treasonable threats, and to search the most private places of their
homes for hidden evidences of Popery; when all Catholic




PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  279
ceremonies in public had been suppressed; when priests
were prohibited to enter the kingdom on pain of death;
when Catholics were compelled to attend Protestant
churches, and assist in the performance of rites as repugnant
to their consciences as Christians, as their independence as
men. Yet these modern Pharisees, arrayed in lawn and
hypocrisy, with prayer on their lips and murder in their
hearts, would dare to kneel before the altar and implore
God to deliver them "'from envy, hatred, and malice, and all
uncharitableness."  Did God or mammon, respect for Holy
Writ or lust of power, urge them on in these unhallowed
courses? When the religion that they, at the same time,
professed and disgraced, breathes peace on earth and good will
to men, what Christian could regard such bitter intolerance
as an evidence of sincerity? What portion of the Scriptures,
that they professed to obey, had taught them to drink in, as
music,the cries of their victims stretched on the rack?
What feeling of humanity could prompt them to watch, with
delight, their quivering limbs whilst being drawn and quartered by the hangman? Their unnecessary zeal in obeying
those cruel edicts, was revolting alike to the charity of
Christians and humanity of men!
Sophists, in attempting to extenuate the conduct of the
Archbishops, might advance three plausible apologies for
their insane bigotry. They might pretend that, actuated by
profound principles of state policy, Whitgift had sacrificed
to a sense of duty, his charity as a Christian. They might
declare that according to the more than doubtful morality of
" expediency," both he and Parker were justifiable in their
persecutions, in order to retain their positions and influence
at court, by yielding to the prejudices of the Queen. Or,
lastly, they might tell us that they were influenced by the
uncontrollable hatred, incident to the jealousy between rival
churches. But I feel confident that I can show that each




280                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
of these positions is untenable. I think I can prove that
the persecutions, under these distinguished primates, sprung
from, and were nurtured by, the malevolent intolerance that
has always characterized the Established Church of England.
State policy has always been made, in despotic governments, the cloak for countless severities and many crimes.
Ministers may be vile, the king tyrannical, and the church
corrupt; yet historians, professing to preserve the records of
truth, have always been found blandly to attribute their atrocities to the imperious necessity of " State policy."  But
this flattering vindication cannot be applied to the conduct
of the Archbishops. They stood alone among the advisers
of the crown in their unrelenting hostility to dissenters of
every denomination; they surpassed the Queen herself in
their rancor. Sympathy with public grievances and individual suffering, is not ordinarily of the keenest nature in
the hearts of ambitious statesmen.  They often correct
abuses and submit to reforms,'tis true, but they are rather
driven by the force of public opinion, than actuated by compassion for the wrongs of the oppressed people. Yet those
in the cabinet of Elizabeth, who were the bitterest enemies
of the Catholics, shrunk back appalled by the bloody zeal of
Whitgift and Parker, though a majority of the nation approved the exterminating edicts against popery. Lord Burleigh, and Sir Christopher Hatton, indignant at the unnecessary cruelty with which Catholics were pursued, boldly
remonstrated with the Queen against the unseemly excess of
her Archbishops.  But their revenge.ful bigotry was too
much in accordance with Elizabeth's own gloomy temper, to
allow her to listen to the counsels of her more reasonable
advisers.
Admitting that the interests of church and state were
so intimately allied, as to make it necessary to restrain the
open exercise of the Ronlish rites, how can their admirers




PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  281
palliate the conduct of the Archbishops, after the most private indulgence of these forbidden ceremonies had been suppressed, and the persecuted Papists compelled to attend the
Protestant churches?  Their terrified imaginations, haunted
by the consciousness of cruelty, might on the slightest provocation have conjured up plots to overturn the state, and
conspiracies to murder the Queen.  But there were no
grounds of fear, except of Rtose air-drawn daggers that always shake the souls of fyzlnts. The Roman Catholics,
though deprivedop.f every ciy and religious right, had never
manifested a dicssition to  bel against the government.
Helpless in their sufferings, unarmed and unmurmuring, it
seems to me that the Christian meekness of their resignation
should have exced something like forbearance in the souls
of their oppressls. But s!bmission in their victims seemed but more fieicely to excite the ire of these insatiable
churchmen. Even when all causes of animosity had been
removed, and every object of persecution suppressed-when
their foes had nothii5 more left of which they could rob
them, and not even. a murmur against their cruelty could be
heard to excite their indignation, they played the part of
the wolf in the fable towards thle lamb: they accused the
downtrodden CatholiA of sti4r the fierce stream of persecution that pouredkfrom the Prntestant church, and still
farther punished thenyfor evils Bltt they themselves had inflicted on the land.,
So far were the OC'tholics frd6-resisting the government,
that the united effWts of the rIliament, the Queen, and
her pet churchmen, were unable to drive them into rebellion, though their bgbarities seeied perpetrated with that
intention.  They remained unshaken in their allegiance,
though the whole (lolic world stood ready to avenge their
wrongs. The Pope thundered forth his bulls. France and
Spain sent emissaries and distributed money, with the vain




282                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
hope of exciting a revolt, that they were most anxious to assist. These two nations then wished to aid them, in spite
of themselves; and only demanded, in case of an invasion,
their passive neutrality. But these despised Papists, deprived of every privilege that made the name of Englishman tolerable, so loved England and her Queen, that they
were unwilling to receive their rights from strangers, when
the price demanded for them was the Constitution of their
country.
When a powerful armament of the then mightiest kingdom of the universe, threatened the entire subjugation of
Great Britain; when the Spanish Armada, freighted with
the picked men of Castilian chivalry, was hovering near the
coast, and every English heart, from tA Queen to the
humblest peasant, quaked witl terror-tl&e persecuted Papists, instead of quietly awaiting the deliverance promised
them by these Spanish invaders, rushed to their standards,
and the Catholic gentry were the first to appear in the field,
with volunteers for the defence of the, Queen. All history
cannot afford another such example of heroic disinterestedness.  Poets love to sing the praises of patriotism; historians delight to immortali{e its possessors; but the eulogy
of a self-sacrificing patriotism  like tis should not be pronounced by poets and historians aloife. It should not be
confined to a single nation; it should be sounded in every
land-it should find an echo in every heart.  Patriotism,
though so noble, so exalted, is but too often the result of
the blessings of a govermnent, or th-lelights of a home.
But these Catholic -gentlemen, in coming to the aid of the
Queen, were sacrificing position, wealt~ religion, and life itself to an ungrateful country. - What more glorious evidence
could be adduced that the spies and the rack, the fires and
the gallows of their persecutors were not necessary to teach
them their duties as Englishmen? What better proof could




PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHIURCII.  283
be required, that no considerations of State policy could
dictate the destruction of men so ready to brave danger, in
defence of their oppressors?
Passive obedience is too often demanded by monarchs
from ambitious subjects, as the price of royal favor. And
such is the tenacity with which men cling to power, that
even honorable minds will frequently sink to the commission
of mean, and sometimes guilty deeds, in order to retain it.
Had the Archbishops held their sees, as the Ministers of
State their places, by the frail tenure of a tyrant's will, selfishness might have afforded them, in the eyes of the worldly,
a mean excuse for their conduct. But even this miserable
pretext was denied them. They held their positions for
life. In assuming the Archbishop's mitre they had been
emancipated from the authority of the sovereign herself.
They had no court favor to sacrifice-no places to lose.
Thenceforth their lives were to be dedicated to Heaven
alone. As the heads of the Church, their allegiance was
due to God-not to the Queen.  His commands-not her
whims-they had solemnly sworn to obey.
During great revolutions, whether in Church or State,
the opposing parties imbibe a bitterness for each other,
which, however inconsistent it may be with their professions
as Christians, is but natural to their feelings as men. Not
a half a century previous to the epoch in English history at
which we have arrived, the mighty reformation of the religious opinions of the world had taken place. The separation of the Reformers from the Catholic Church had been so
recent, such startling changes had been effected, that the
deadliest animosity still rankled in the hearts of both.
They not only experienced the hostility incident to such occasions, but it became an object of the highest importance
to the infallibility of each one, to prove the outrages against
God and man of the other. And if we implicitly believe




284                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
the different partisans, both Catholics and heretics were as
certainly deserving of the gallows as they were declared to
be of hell-fire. Every article of faith had been discussedthe propriety of every ceremony disputed.  Questions of
temporal authority and State rights, were so industriously
mixed up in these spiritual wranglings, that each side
learned to consider it as sacred a duty to hate the other, as
to go to church. It was no isolated doctrine that was to
be argued-no single alteration of forms that was demanded.
The entire religious structure was to be overthrown, and a
new fabric built up.
But, unfortunately for the fame of the ghostly advisers
of Elizabeth, Protestant dissenters shared the aversion they
had so fearfully manifested towards the Catholics. Puritans
and Catholics, bitterly as they were opposed to each other
in religion and politics, suffered in common.  Without a single tie of sympathy-farther removed from each other than
either was from their mutual enemy-they were yet united
in being martyrs to the same insane malevolence. So large
a proportion of the ministers, officiating in the Established
Church at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, being in favor
of the dissenting doctrines, their opinions should have commanded more consideration than they received. Simple,,even to austerity, in their notions of religion, they could not
silently endure those ceremonies of the Established Church
which had been borrowed from the splendid superstitions of
Rome. The tippet and the surplice, the sign of the cross,
and the crucifix, were to them the shameful badges of allegiance to the Pope. They contended that these rites, transferred from the old church to the new, were calculated to
keep alive in the minds of the people the recollection of the
captivating religion they had abandoned. With them these
ceremonies were matters of conscience; their presence
violated the sacred tenets of their faith. The Queen being




PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 285
far too shrewd in judgment to regard them otherwise than as
mere forms, wholly unimportant in the great scheme of salvation, worldly considerations should have restrained her
from the attempt to force them on her dissenting subjects,
when they so sincerely believed their primitive form of worship to be outraged by such idle exhibitions. The jealous
care with which she guarded her prerogative, caused this
most grievous error of her life. It was not that she deemed
the surplice and the sign of the cross essential to the purity of her faith, that she insisted on their adoption; it was because she considered the discontented murmurs 9f the
Dissenters disrespectful to herself. By the laws of the land
she was the 1" supreme head of the church," and she was unwilling to abate her authority even in trifles.
No one can pretend that the laws which created the
High Church of England did not confer upon the Queen
the right to govern her own spiritual servants in her own
way. And when the ministers of the Presbyterian persuasion broke into open rebellion against her authority, by refusing to sign the Thirty-nine Articles, I think the Archbishop did but consult the interests of his Church, when he
ejected them from their livings. But, after having deprived
them of all temporal advantages, it seems to me it would
have been the part alike of the Christian and the statesman,
to have left them in the secret enjoyment of their humble
worship, without plunging into those wild excesses of persecution, which, commencing in 1567 with the dispersion of
the conventicle in Plummer's Hall and the arrest of its
principal members, resulted in a revolution, fatal to England, as to her Church.
The fact that the Independents, in their wild fanaticism,
lhaving manifested, even at that early period, as ferocious an
animosity to the Queen and her government as to her
church, might justify the enactment of those laws, executing




286                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
their ringleaders, and compelling thousands of the sect to
fly the kingdom.'But the Puritan ministers, not originally
denying the lawfulness of the High Church government, and
only demanding certain reforms in her discipline, might
have been easily reconciled by the abolition of the obnoxious ceremonies,-by restraining the plurality of benefices,
and correcting certain other abuses, that had already crept
into the Church.'Tis true, that as early as 1570, Thomas
Cartwright had promulgated the doctrine that all church
government was unlawful, except that taught by the Apostles, which was the Presbyterian; yet a few timely concessions from the Queen would have prevented its after agitation by the five famous commoners, and its final triumph, in
the downfall of the hierarchy, and the establishment of
Presbyterian Synods, by Cromwell and his military companions.
The Queen and her Archbishops, blinded by the vindictive violence of their bigotry, were not satisfied with dismissing the dissenting ministers from their benefices,-with
venting their fury on private conventicles, and forcing all
persons over sixteen years of age to attend some church of
the Established order, on pain of banishment; they were
not contented with subjecting the hated Puritans to the inquisitorial oath ex officio, which violated that cherished
maxim of common law, that no one could be compelled to
criminate himself; but the Archbishop directed all pastors,
not only to encourage, but positively to enjoin sports and
pastimes on the Sabbath. This was a blow aimed directly
at the Puritans. The Judaical strictness with which they
kept holy this seventh day, —the severity with which they
regarded the frivolities of the gay and the young, were the
distinguishing features of their worship. Grave in their
deportment, stern in all that regarded their religion, these
hardy Dissenters could but ill brook this last insult to the




PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  287
peculiar tenets of their faith.  They were not prone to
anger, but in sullen silence they brooded over their injuries,
till the demon of resistance was aroused among them, which
only slept when their king was beheaded, and the constitution overthrown.
The only apology that even their eulogists attempt to
offer for the short-sighted policy-to give it no harsher
name-of the Queen's primates, is, that the safety of the
Established Church depended on the total destruction of
every denomination of Dissenters. Surely, worldly wisdom,
unaided by the feelings of the Christian, should have taught
these imperious advisers of the Queen in religions affairs,
that the obstinacy of bold and sincere men was not to be
quelled by punishment; that the intrepidity with which the
leaders suffered, did but teach their followers their duty to
God and their religion. Persecution has never failed to
make proselytes, and, after the forty years of uninterrupted
molestation, during the reign of Elizabeth, the number of
the Dissenters had greatly increased, their popularity had
become more deeply rooted, and their enmity to the established order more irreconcilable.
The first James was a willing, but not a daring tyrant.
Had his courage been commensurate with his cruelty, the
long and systematic persecutions of every denomination of
Dissenters, under Elizabeth, would have appeared'id,
compared with those under him. But the Puritans, hying
grown too strong to be zealously assailed by so timid a despot as James, enjoyed, during his whole reign, a respite
from the active malevolence of his predecessor.  The Catholics, too weak to be dangerous, became the especial objects
of his malignity. Upon them he vented all the virulence of
a disposition, which only wanted courage to render it truly
dangerous. In persecuting Papists, he indulged in the lux



288                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
ury of being cruel, without any uncomfortable fears of resistance or retaliation.
The austere piety of James's unfortunate son and successor, exerted an immediate and powerful influence upon,the character of the church.  Charles's sullen resolution inspired his Primates with the requisite boldness to indulge
their natural propensities for intolerance.  The vindictive
spirit of other days was kindled into a blaze, and Puritans
and Catholics became once more fellow-sufferers. It was
during the zealous revival of persecution, that the Established Church so startlingly manifested the feline fondness
for toying with the victims of its tortures. Had it been
simply fear or hatred of the growing sects of Protestant
Dissenters which urged them to such extreme severities, the
safest and most complete gratification of both feelings
would have been effectually to get rid of them. But permission to leave the kingd6dn was refused to Lord Say,
Hamden, Cromwell, and their followers, by Archbishop's advice to the'king. Though the hatred of these so-called
C" bold bad men" would have been gratified, and all fear of
their machinations removed by their self-inflicted banishment to the wild shores of New England; yet the Church
would have lost half of its sweetest occupation, by allowing
them to escape her. She would have henceforth been compelled to confine her gentle attentions to the Catholics, who
presented much too narrow a field for the genius of Laud
and his associates. And of course the king, who regarded
the delight his church derived from the lingering torments
of her victims as, an innocent relaxation after her more
serious duties were over, was much too pious to circumscribe
her pleasures, by permitting one half of his best subjects
to escape to America.
The Puritans, surrounded, and pressed upon, without hope
of escape, took redress into their own hands, and taught the




PERSECUTION UNDER THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  289
Established Church, when too late, to dread the power they
had trampled upon. But the poor Catholics, always unfortunate, continued to endure the bitterness of public persecution, in addition to all those domestic sufferings, which the
unsuccessful party in a civil war must always submit to.
Adhering to Charles throughout his disastrous campaigns,
their very virtue, in loyally defending the constitution
against the encroachments of Parliament, became to them a
new source of evil. Yet where are the eulogists of their
devotion; what applause has eve been awarded them for
their heroic stand in favor of the constitution of England?
But we need not search far to find those who will tell us
that the Primates of England, at this epoch, were the properest and most godly of men. They, beyond doubt, continued the formal routine of their duties, complacently pocketing the immense revenues arising from their sees, and
saying a lengthy grace before every meal. But the strict
performance of these ghostly duties is not all that England
has to be grateful for. They reduced the Catholic population to the lowest depths of misery. They pursued the
Protestant Dissenters with every species of atrocity. In
their holy zeal, they brought sorrow and ruin to one half
the hearths of Great Britain, and finally plunged the nation
into the bloody horrors of a civil war. Yet whilst performing these eminent services to the state they never omitted
their weekly duty of praying to Heaven that it might please
God "to keep all nations in unity, peace and concord."
All persecution of dissenting Protestants ceased, of
course, with the commencement of the civil war, and was
never afterwards extensively revived. But the favor with
which Charles II., on his restoration, regarded the unlucky -
Catholics, was sufficiently evident to make them the special
objects of the suspicion and hatred of the public, without being strong enough to protect them from the consequences. In
13




290                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
the opinion of the multitude there was no crime too heinous
for them to be guilty of, there was no evidence too trivial to
convict them. They were even accused and believed guilty
of the great fire of London, as the early Christians had been
accused of the conflagration of Rome. Plots, murders, and
conspiracies, were arrayed with fearful rapidity against
them. Rye-houses and meal-tubs were alleged to be the extraordinary scenes of their plottings. The trade of public
informer was then first known in England, and in falsely
swearing the destruction of the innocent Catholics, such
wretches as Oates and Bedloe became the petted favorites
of the English public.
For rather more than a century the interdicted  Papists had known little else than a series of persecution,
confiscation, test-oaths and public executions. The privacy
of their homes had constantly been invaded by spies; and
fear and suspicion had broken up the little circles of social
enjoyments.  Their brief public careers had been run in
rebellions and civil war. Public tranquillity and domestic
quiet had been equally denied to them. For a century more
they continued the doomed objects of an implacable intolerance, when at the end of the reign of George II. religious
commotions ceased. Jacobitism was only known in name,
and the Catholics at last found peace in practical toleration.




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  291
CHAPTER XI.
PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH OF ENGLAND.
THE present Church of England does no discredit to its
origin and past career.  It is what might have been expected from the violence with which it was established, and
the persecution with which it was sustained. It is a bloated;
unsightly mass of formalities, hypocrisy, bigotry and selfishness, without a single charitable impulse, or pious aspiration. It is a magnificent establishment, abounding in
wealth and worldliness, oppression to the poor, and of no
great spiritual service to the rich, which is maintained by
government, and patronized by the aristocracy, as the convenient means of disposing of spendthrift "younger sons," and
accommodating aspiring parvenues, who have money to exchange for position. Ministers are universally regarded as
gentlemen in England, and people of obscure birth or ignoble occupations may acquire easy access to gentility by purchasing a place in the church.
That the Church of England numbers among its members many sincere and devout Christians I pretend not to
deny, but I do assert that the system which has been adopted
for its regulation precludes the possibility of its ministers
being actuated by those exalted feelings which should always
animate the teachers of God's holy word. The fact of all
the church livings being regarded as property, must continue
to provide ministers of the gospel only acquainted with the




292                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
forms of religion: having no piety but their prayer-books,
no morals but their black coats. According to the English
notions of the duties of clergymen, they may be the properest and most exemplary men.  They all wear white cravats,
hate beggars, and" collect their tithes with the most commendable regularity.  They are united in their resistance
to every attempt at reform, and are untiring in their exertions to render inviolable the antiquated abuses of the
church; they manifest their zeal by persecuting Catholics and
cordially hating dissenters of every denomination; they
toadyize their patrons with the most Christian meekness, and
display their regard for the honor of " the cloth," by begging
or buying favor sufficient to unite in their own persons as
many profitable livings as possible. Being conscious that a
minister, like every other man in England, is respectable in
proportion to his income, they show their zeal for the dignity
of the church by violating its most sacred laws against
Simony, in order to become rich by becoming pluralists.
The Christian piety of these holy men, who exhibit their
zeal by persecuting Catholics, and reviling dissenters, whilst
they themselves indulge in the worst species of worldliness,
icalls to mind the delicate conscience of the corpulent founder
of their church, who was too God-serving a man to commit
adultery, but could piously cut off the head of an innocent
wife in order to make way for a lust of more recent origin.
I am not so visionary as to entertain a hope of rendering
them immaculate, but I would have them Christians in action as in name. I am too thoroughly acquainted with the
intense selfishness of an Englishman's nature to suppose that
his duties to Heaven could induce him to sacrifice the advantages of worldly position, or that a feeling of piety could
produce even momentary forgetfulness of the fascinations
of " belly-cheer," but I would have these appointed preachers
of the gospel approach, in distant irritation at least, the




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  293
self-sacrificing devotion of the Apostles, who went forth
without scrip and without shoes to preach Christianity to the
world. Their hearts and souls are absorbed in calculations of
tithes, and struggles for richer livings, but they consider
themselves acquitted of all they owe to God by the observance of a few empty forms.  The specious hypocrites carefully envelop themselves in surplices, but manifest their
worldliness by hankering after fat livings, instead of doing
good works, as Achilles betrayed his sex, when disguised
among the daughters of Lycomedes, by his preference for
arms to jewels.
These heartless worldlings are not only guilty of the
deepest injustice to the members of the Established Church
in monopolizing the benefices, by paying obsequious court
to their owners, to the exclusion of abler and more pious
teachers whom the people might select, but they insult their
helplessness by pocketing their money without pretending to
observe those duties they are so well paid to perform.  If
they were contented with receiving an enormous salary for
mechanically drawling through the morning and evening
prayers, and indolently reading once a week a stupid sermon of fifteen minutes' length, without being animated by a
single feeling that should influence a preacher, the injustice
would be less glaring. If they were simply avaricious, the
wrong would be less outrageous; but they are energetically
grasping. To become gay non-residents, and rich pluralists,
they contemptuously discard even the semblance of those
duties, which honor if not religion should demand from them
for their flocks. The following startling abuses in the
Church of England were exposed by returns recently made
to Parliament.
Number of benefices.10,987
Resident incumbents.                       6,699




294                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
Non-resident incumbents.                  3,736
Vacancies and recent institutions.        199
Sequestrations.                             37
No returns......                           316' The number of curates serving benefices on which the
incumbents are non-residents is 2,711.  The number of curates assistant to resident incumbents is 2,032, total number
of curates 4,743." Here it is seen that a third of the entire number of clergymen of the Established Church do not
even reside in the parishes, over which they profess to preside, but leave the labor of their duties to starving curates,
2,521 of whom receive less than ~100 a year. By deducting the number of curates employed in the benefices of nonresident incumbents, from the number of the non-residents
themselves, it will be found that in more than a thousand
benefices no religious service is performed, although their
respective pastors are regularly pocketing their share of the
$50,000,000, annually expended for the support of the Church
of England. The monstrous fraud and injustice of such a
system  are too glaring to require comment.  The facts
themselves are their most eloquent condemnation.
The nobility have so many extravagant younger sons,
and dissipated poor relations to establish in life, who would
degrade their families by engaging in any active pursuit;
there are so many of the young gentry, too proud to work,
and yet not rich enough to be idle, for whom some lazy,
honorable occupation must be provided, that the army, the
navy, the public offices, and the colonies are insufficient
to accommodate them all.  The church, with its monstrous
mass of impiety and injustice, must be retained, like the
East India Board, as a more extended means of accommodation for the youthful drones, whom  the aristocracy have
thrown for support upon the hands of the people. But besides
the assistance extended to the aristocracy, the government




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  295
itself derives great power and profit from the patronage
afforded by the church. And when we remember that it is
composed of Englishmen, it would be madness to suppose
that they would sacrifice such advantages to any conscientious scruples. It is true that those who purchase, or accept the livings, are influenced by worldly rather than religious considerations; it is certain that the opportunity to
enjoy an easy, indolent sort of existence, rather than a pious
wish to dedicate their lives to Heaven, induces them to enter
the church. But what is it to the government, though the
religious instruction of the nation be intrusted to the -worldliest of the worldly? What is it to them that the ministers,
whose example is to influence, and piety direct their flocks,
must perjure themselves by solemnly swearing when they
are ordained, that they are moved to take orders by the
Holy Ghost? What matters it though the vilest hypocrites
occupy the holiest places, if their ends are accomplished, and
their aristocracy sustained 2  The prayers are generally
read by somebody, and the responses attended to. Could
more be expected from an established church? What must
we think of the policy of an enlightened government, which
could deliberately perpetrate such an outrage against the
religious feelings of its subjects?  What opinion must we
entertain of the piety of subjects, who could submit to it?
If there be a crime on earth, for which. even governments
are amenable to Heaven, it is assembling on the hallowed
Sabbath these mocking hypocrites before the altar of God. If
there be sacrilege, which must sooner or later call down the
wrath of an offended God, it is prostituting the holy offices
of religion to the support of an order.
One of the most active causes of the success of the Reformation in England was the desire in the nation at large, to
be freed from the domineering control and oppressive incomes
of the priesthood. The great changes in the forms of religion




296                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
were not so much the result of reasoning on theological subjects, as a conviction of the fraud and corruption existing in
the Romish Church.  The covetous and arrogant dispositions of the priests, and their vast temporal power, was what
most disgusted the people, and made them eager for any revolution which promised a reform of those abuses. But
what did they gain by the change? It was but a simple alteration of names; a mere transfer of authority from the
Catholic priesthood to the Reformed clergy.  The sceptre of
the king was substituted for the keys of St. Peter. The crown
usurped the place of the tiara. The patronage of the livings
belonging to the Pope fell to the share of Henry VIII; those
benefices which had been claimed by the Abbots and Priors
were transferred to the Bishops, and those of the Catholic nobility to the greedy favorites of the fat king. An enormous
amount of money was appropriated to give grandeur and magnificednce to the new establishment. The value of church property has been estimated at the almost incredible sum of
$900,000,000.  Bishops were lodged and supported like
princes, and ordinary pastors like nobles. Mr. Baring many
years ago stated in the House of Commons, that the income
of the Bishop of London amounted to the astounding sum of
$500,000.  Great pomp and ceremony were preserved in
order to render the services imposing in the eyes of the multitude. No pains were spared to make the offices of the
Reformed church respectable among all classes, and the immense expense incurred in their endowment caused them to
be eagerly sought for by the aristocracy. In this gorgeous
worship, religion lacks nothing but its devotion, the creed is
only deficient in sincerity. It is maintained at an expense
equal to that of all the other Christian denominations in the
world. It is supposed that the support of the Church of
England annually costs the government ~9,459,565, whilst
all the Christians of the rest of the world pay to their minis



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  297
ters but ~9,949,000. It seems, therefore, that the High
Church of England, with 6;500,000 hearers, requires for its
maintenance as great an expense as all the other forms -of
Christianity in the uniVerse, with 203,728,000 hearers. It is
a favorite theme with High-churchmen to descant upon the
splendid displays and absurd extravagance in the administration of the Catholic church, but on examination it will be
found that the Reformed Church of England costs the people 40 times as much to every million of hearers, as the administration of Papacy in France, to the same number of
hearers. The monstrous excess in the pay of the English
clergy appears from comparing their incomes with those of
dignitaries of corresponding rank in other countries.  The
pay of a Bishop in France is $3,125, and that of a rector is
$250. In Rome the income of a Cardinal, next in dignity
to the Pope, $X2,500; that of a rector of a parish $150. But
in England many of the Bishops have been receiving over
$100,000, whilst we have seen that the income of one
amounted to half a million; and there are rectories in that
country valued at $40,000 and $50,000. We very naturally
suppose that extraordinary devotion among the people, or
the vastly superior religious instruction affordied by their pastors, must demand this amazing preponderance in the pay of
the English clergy. But we have already seen that there
are more than one thousand benefices, in which religious
services are utterly neglected, and we can entertain no very
high opinion of the pious solicitude of the people, who submit to the appointment of their pastor by the owner of the
manor, with the same indifference they might be supposed to
feel about his selection of a horse for a fox-hunt.
I contend that this outrageously wasteful extravagance
*in the church establishment, is not simply an oppression to
an already overloaded people, but that it deprives them of
proper religious teaching, by inducing ambitious worldlings
13*




298                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
to sue for the positions which Heaven intended for the
pious and lowly. But we are informed that this enormous
outlay is essential to the dignity of the church. If the simple majesty of Christianity had been insufficient to impress
the hearts of men, it would have proved somewhat difficult
for its humble founder, born in a stable, to establish its tenets. What wealth, what pomp, what magnificence, did the
apostles carry into strange lands to dazzle converts to the
new faith? The glare and glitter of show and parade are
not more important now than they were then. The unaffected devotion and active zeal of one devoutly pious pastor,
would command more real respect than the ostentatious
profusion of all the pluralists and non-residents in the kingdom. It is the cause of the aristocracy, not that of Heaven,
which is promoted by this vast expenditure in support of
the Established Church. But the advocates of this ruinous
system pretend to deem parks, palaces, plate, and equipages
indispensable to the dignity of these magnificent prelates,
whose divine Master made his entry into Jerusalem on the
colt of an ass.  Mansions, villas, warrens, and manorial
rights are thought necessary for their amusement, whilst
" the Son of man had not where to lay his head." Is it
strange that in giving to the bishops the wealth and position, the government should also give them the worldliness
of nobles? In becoming rivals of the aristocracy in fortune,
is it not natural that they should become their rivals in extravagance and dissipation?
A bishop, " being a man, must feel like one."  When he
finds himself surrounded by every refined enjoyment that
luxury can invent or wealth afford, and feels compelled by
his position to vie in sumptuousness with the proudest of
the land, it is but natural that his thoughts should turn from
heaven to earth. When he feels that his money, not his
piety, gives him consideration among his fellows, he must be




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  299
more or less than man, if he does not soon learn to exult
more in his magnificence than his lowliness.  When he discovers that profusion more than charity purchases the applause of men, when he feels convinced that the grandeur of
a spiritual lord rather than the devotion of the preacher of
the gospel commands their respect, it would be strange indeed if his heart did not sink from God to mammon. Worldly affluence soon bounds all his hopes. Fashionable preeminence becomes his highest ambition, parade his chief
delight. Such would be the result even if these holy men
had been originally actuated by sincere feelings of piety.
Remember the author of the proverb, that "' it is easier for a
camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich
man to enter the kingdom of heaven." But I feel confident
of being able to prove, before the end of this chapter, that
the clergy enter the church as they would pursue any other
profession which promised success to an ambitious man.
These worthy bishops piously exhort their followers to
"take no heed of what ye shall eat, nor what ye shall drink,
nor for your bodies, what ye shall put on," whilst they load
their own sumptuous tables with every delicacy that the country can afford, stock their cellars with the rarest-wines, and
array themselves in the costliest importations from France. In
their lazy dreams of sensual enjoyment, they seem wholly
oblivious of the scriptural injunction to "take care that your
hearts be not charged with surfeiting and drunkenness, and
the cares of this life." But though they annually squander
millions of the people's money, in sustaining the "pride,
pomp, and circumstance " of their positions, yet I must confess, strange as it may seem, that in obedience to the command " distribute to the poor, and seek treasures in heaven,"
they still find the means generously to feed the hungry with
religious tracts, and to relieve the wretched by praying for
them. Who can henceforward impugn the piety of a Bishop?




300                   ENGLISII ITEMS.
He should be named a fountain of charity as of grace in
England.  Who can now pretend that when the poor beg
for bread, he gives them a stone? If a haggard victim of
disease appeals to his sympathies in behalf of a starving family at home, he unhesitatingly presents him a tract, ingeniously illustrating the beauties of faith, in the touching incident of Elijah and the poor widow, with the handful of meal,
and a little oil in the cruse.  Should a helpless mother implore his assistance to bury one child already dead, among
her others who are slowly dying of the typhus fever, he
piously assures her that she shall be remembered in his
prayers. The magnanimity of such self-sacrificing charity
will be better appreciated, when it is remembered that the
tracts are gratuitously furnished him by the religious societies, and that even decency demands that he should occasionally pray for the health and prosperity of the kingdom.
The poor mother is probably included in this general prayer,
if he does not entirely forget her application a half an hour
after she quitted his door.  As an evidence that the cases in
which the charities of the bishops might relieve starvation
are not altogether imaginary, I give the following extract
from the London Observer, made during my visit to England last summer.
DEATn FROM STARVATION. —Last night Mr. Brent held an inquest
upon Jonathan Nicholls, aged 51. Deceased, whose body was a mere
skeleton, had been formerly a schoolmaster, but was latterly so reduced
as to be compelled to earn his livelihood by writing window bills for
tradesmen, and with all his industry sometimes only realized a few
pence a-week. The parish allowed a loaf a-week for the support of
himself and his wife, who is paralyzed. During the last twelve months
deceased was daily sinking from sheer starvation, but still buoyed up
with the hope of getting some property to which he was entitled. On
Monday morning his wife found him dead in bed at her side. The
following day he became entitled to ~120 cash, and MC0 a-year. Mr.
Luthelron, surgeon, deposed that death resulted fiom want and disease




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.   301
of the lungs. The foreman, on behalf of the jury, expressed their horror and disgust at the parochial authorities limiting the support of deceased and his paralyzed wife to a solitary loaf of bread a-week, instead of inquiring into their wants, and contributing a sufficient quantity of food for their support. The coroner summed up, and the jury
returned a verdict in accordance with the medical evidence.
If a man in the position that this one evidently had been,
could die so terrible a death, how appalling must be the
condition of the millions, born in degradation, and reared in
ignorance.
I wish not to intimate that the mean privations of the
ascetic constitute my ideas of Christian humility. The terrible lacerations, to which the solitary enthusiasts of early
times subjected their weak frames, are revolting alike to my
ideas of religion and humanity. I cannot believe that corporeal punishment prepares a man's soul for heaven, though
inflicted by his own hands. We all know that so intimately
are man's physical and intellectual natures interwoven,-so
nicely are they dependent on each other, that intense corporeal suffering will turn the firmest mind from undisturbed
thoughts of heaven itself. But leaving the excruciating
agonies endured by the mad devotees of the desert out of
the question-simple want will fill the most magnanimous
soul with its own selfish repinings. The cries of nature
must be heard. Comfort is not only the basis of all happiness, but it is absolutely indispensable to any concentrated
action of the mind; and so far from those numberless little
enjoyments which civilization has rendered essential to comfort being inconsistent with the beautiful simplicity of the
faith taught by our Saviour, I think that a certain degree
of intellectual pleasure, and even elegant luxury, greatly increases that contemplative fervor, which every minister
should bring to his profession.  I cannot think that any
pastor could faithfully discharge his duties, who does not




302                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
enjoy not only the mere necessaries of life, but many of its
more refined indulgences. The mind must borrow healthy
vigor from the body. But, surely, the clergy of England
exceed those rational pleasures, so necessary to social contentment, when they surpass the richest citizens of the richest
country upon earth in luxurious splendor, and vie with
the proudest nobles in gorgeous displays. The mind, even
of the most pious, when constantly dwelling on gilded trifles,
and eternally occupied with thoughts of pomp, parade and
position, must sooner or later, in spite of itself, imbibe a
worldly pride and ostentation, little becoming the leaders
of a great church. It seems to me that the Archbishop
should teach every member of the Established Church his
duty to his Maker, not only by his precepts, but his example. He should remember the advice of Jesus to the rich
young man, to give all he had to the poor, and forsaking all
things to follow him. Notwithstanding their princely incomes, the Bishops, in becoming ambitious of rivalling the
richest and most dissipated; in their Bacchanalian revels, deprive themselves of the means, even if they retained the inclination, to perform the charities which their exalted rank
in the church and enormous wealth give the world a right
to expect from them.
I would have a clergyman live and dress like a gentleman, without committing any of the absurd excesses peculiar to that caricature upon the species, known as a
dandy. I would have him indulge in all the innocent gayeties
of the social circle. I never could understand the gloomy
fanaticism of those who would have religion banish every
thing like mirth from the human heart, who would fain
make a smile a misdemeanor, and a laugh a crime. I could
never satisfactorily determine why a sorrowful expression
of countenance should indicate a pious mind, or a ragged
coat be considered an evidence of a holy state of feeling.




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  303
And those who would make the Sabbath a day of mourning
instead of rest and cheerful relaxation, it seems to me have
strangely misconstrued the spirit of the Scriptures.
There is nothing morose about Christianity. The hearts
of those who profess it should be filled with rejoicing and
good will towards men. Thrice blessed is he whose soul is
gladdened by feelings of true religion; for it is, after all,
the only unalloyed pleasure enjoyed in this world. Success
brings satiety, excitement is followed by reaction, but. the
happiness of sincere piety charms, when " pleasures cease to
please."  It but beams the brighter in misfortune, and
will throw a halo of ineffable contentment around the saddest soul.  Joy as naturally springs from  religion, as his
matinal carol from the lark. At the birth of our Saviour
they came into the world together, "when the good tidings
of great joy" were announced to the shepherds in the witching minstrelsy of rejoicing angels.  The doleful'looks and
dismal groans of the mistaken zealots, who delight, in professing religion, to play the profound mummery of woe, have
always seemed to me as absurd as unnatural.
The twenty-four Bishops and two Archbishops of England are a burden, as oppressive as unnecessary to the people. How have they changed the simple form of worship,
preached by the followers of our Saviour! They have substituted ostentation for humility, worldliness for devotion.
They promise vile lucre, rather than heavenly glory, as a
reward to the faithful servants of the church. They have
made religion a burden, instead of a blessing, to the people. What opinion must we entertain of the usefulness of
a church, whose principle is avarice, and whose practice is
tyranny?  Selfishncss, not charity, animates the bosoms of
the Bishops. They persist in defending the hoary abuses
of the church, for the worldly advantage of themselves and
their relations, though they fall with crushing weight on tile




304                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
widow and the orphan. They are the modern Scribes and
Pharisees, loving the high places at feasts and in the synagogue. The applause of men, rather than the silent approbation of God, animates them to do good deeds. They delight to pray aloud, and to do their alms before men. Their
souls are absorbed in the accumulation of wealth, and their
minds busied in providing rich livings for their relatives
and friends. Their dioceses should be abolished, and their
mitres broken. They should be driven from the church, as
the money-changers and those who sold doves were expelled
from the Temple by our Saviour; for they have filled the
house of God with the tumult of traffic, and made the sacred
offices of religion a trade.
What are the duties of the Bishops and Archbishops,
that they should be so liberally pensioned from the pockets
of the people-.? The Bishops do not preach. They never
see the clergymen over whom they are appointed oftener
than once in three years, when they make a hurried visit to
the principal towns of their dioceses. But, even if they were
most inclined conscientiously to fulfil the duties of their
stations, they are compelled to be absent from their dioceses
at least five months of every year, to occupy their seats
among the hereditary lawgivers of the land in the House of
Lords. They have no real authority to correct the abuses
of the parochial clergy. Indeed, they rather encourage, by
their own appointments, the fatal practice of non-residence
and pluralities, which last the canons of the church denounce
as "execrable before God."  Should a Bishop bring a delinquent minister before his court, and convict him, the minister snaps his fingers at the decree, and claims his living as
his freehold-too often a purchased one.  If an effort is
made to carry the sentence into effect, the guilty clergyman
appeals from court to court, till at last he casts the charges
on the Bishop, when they have been swelled to such an




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  305
amount, as effectually to prevent the Right Reverend Gentleman's trying so expensive an experiment for the future.
The Archbishops are still more useless. They do not appoint the Bishops, nor can they remove them. They cannot
even call them together in convocation, without the sovereign's concurrence. It is true that the Archbishop of Canterbury is called upon to anoint the monarch, should a coronation occur, and that he is expected to christen the royal
offspring. But, surely, one coronation during his incumbency, and a christening every year, which sometimes happens, ought scarcely to entitle his Grace of Canterbury to
the luxury of Lambeth Palace, and an income of $75,000
a year. But the performance of religious duties seems to
be as little looked for, as piety in the twenty-six spiritual
Lords of Great Britain. Pelf- and power engross all their
solicitude. They count their enormous revenues, dispense
rich livings and fat sinecures to their relations and dependants,-silently vote, in their places in Parliament, for every
oppressive measure proposed by the existing government,
and their duty is done.
To illustrate the tender consideration of the Bishops for
the members of their own families, in generously bestowing
on them rich livings and sinecures, in defiance of the stringent laws of the Church against non-residents and pluralists, I beg to call the attention of my readers to the case of
the Right Rev. Mr. Sparke, Bishop of Ely. By a series of
forced resignations and translations, it was finally arranged
so that " the Rev. J. Henry Sparke held at the same time
the living of Leverington, the sinecure rectory of Littleburg, the living of Bexwell, and a prebendal stall in the
Cathedral of Ely: he was, besides, steward of all his father's
manorial courts, and Chancellor of the diocese. The estimated annual value of the whole, $22,500."
"' The Rev. Henry Fardell, the Bishop's son-in-law, held




306                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
the living of Waterbeach, the vicarage of Wisbech, and a
prebendal stall in Ely Cathedral. The estimated annual
value of his preferments $18,500."'" The Rev. Edward Sparke held the consolidated livings
of St. May and St. Nicholas, Feltwell, the vicarage of Littleport and a prebendal stall in Ely; he was Register of the
diocese and Examining Chaplain to his father. The estimated annual value of his appointments not less than
$20,000."
"The Bishop's see of Ely and dependencies-$138,710.
Total income of the Sparke family-$199,710."
Quite a comfortable little family arrangement.  We
shall give Prettyman, Bishop of Winchester, as another instance of this charming system.  It could never be objected
to him, as will be seen from the following list, that his
children were left destitute in the world.
" G. T. PRETTYMAN;
Chancellor and Canon Residentiary of Lincoln;
Prebendary of Winchester;
Rector of St. Giles, Chalfont;.
Rector of Wheat-Hampstead;
Rector of Harpendon."
"RICHARD PRETTYMAN;
Precentor and Canon Residentiary of Lincoln;
Rector of Middleton, Stoney;
Rector of Walgrave;
Vicar of Hannington;
Rector of Wroughton."
"JOHN PRETTYMAN;
Prebendary of Lincoln;
Rector of Sherrington;
Rector of Winwick."




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.   307
The profuse liberality of these Reverend prelates will
be properly appreciated, when it is remembered at what
sacrifices it was indulged. The oaths that were violated,
and the pangs of conscience that were braved, ill order to
make these hopeful young sons rich, should render the conduct of their pious fathers doubly praiseworthy. It is a man's
first duty to provide for his family. The Bishop's " charity
has improved on the proverb, and ended where it began."
I give these two instances of a practice, universal among
the Bishops, of concentrating in the persons of their immediate relations the most valuable livings in the church.
How lenient ought we to be to the peccadilloes of the subordinate clergy of a church, whose heads so unhesitatingly
violate its most solemn edicts against non-residence and
pluralities.
The inequality in the value of the sees is another fruitful
source of abuses in the church. It is an ingenious contrivance of the government to support that huge fabric of corruption. Though certain of finding these churchmen the most
active enemies to reform, as they have ever been the ablest
supporters of oppression, bigotry and persecution, yet unwilling to confide wholly in the power of depraved dispositions, the government has united the interest of the Bishops to their natural proneness to evil, and holds out the promotion to the wealthier sees, as an enticing reward for their
treachery to the people, and apostacy to God.  A Bishop
never feels fixed till he has obtained one of the richer prizes
of Canterbury, Winchester, London or Ely. The exciting
hopes and fears, the eternal intrigues and worldly coalitions, which must be resorted to in order to run the scale of
church preferments, are but little in accordance with the
quiet devotion and humility of a devout Christian.  The
power which the government possesses of translating Bishops from one see to another, makes them the most servile of




308                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
legislators.  Their anxiety to curry court favor, sufficient to
promote their ambitious views, unfits them for their secular
duties. They and their clergy have always been hostile to
the rights of the people; they have always been opposed to
progress and reform; and have ever been the zealous supporters of every tyrannical measure, proposed by the government. From the year 1778, when the first tardy step was
taken towards the amelioration of English Catholics, to the
final passage of the Catholic Relief Bill in 1829, the opposition of the Spiritual Lords was united, and unwavering.
From those earliest bills, introduced by Edmund Burke and
supported by Mr. Fox, for repealing particular statutes,
which chiefly prevented the English Roman Catholics from
safely and quietly enjoying their landed property; and those
other bills advocated by Mr. Pitt, in which the free exercise
of their religion was, to a considerable extent, secured to
them, and several penalties and disabilities, under which
they had labored, were removed; through all the efforts of
Mr. Grattan to obtain for them their elective franchise, and
their right to hold seats in Parliament, to the final passage
of the Reform Bill, 10th April, 1829, tle Bishops were distinguished by the bitterest hostility. A law which increases
the social or religious freedom of the people, is as certain to
be opposed by the Bishops, as one which confers new rights
and greater power on the aristocracy is sure to be supported
by them. Their position enables them to do much evil,
though their undisguised worldliness deprives them of the
power of doing much good in the community.  The advantages of wealth and education, which they enjoy, secure for
them a dangerous influence in a country where gold is so
much worshipped, and education so little known as in England. Their superior intelligence enables the clergy to reconcile the people to the most ruinous measures of oppression, though their evident want of piety makes their religious




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  309
instruction fall on unheeding ears. They are the servants
of the aristocracy, and the representatives of the worldliness, and can therefore have but few feelings in common
with the people and devotion.  Instead of the most affectionate confidence between the pastor and his flock, there always exists an ill-concealed distrust of each other. There
can be no sympathy between them, and therefore no confidence.
When a Bishop's mind is absorbed by the assiduous attentions and servile compliance, with which he must pursue
some noble patron, who is to recommend him to the notice
of government but few of his thoughts can be reserved for
heaven. No man can serve two masters. And when it is
remembered with what tenacious fondness the Bishops
cling to the emoluments of their offices; when it is remembered
with what reluctance they have given even the vaguest information as to the profits of their sees; when we call to
mind the frauds in which they have been detected by the
commissioners appointed to ascertain the amount of their
incomes, it will not be difficult to determine whether God
or mammon reigns in their bosoms. The course of the Bishops was as much opposed to the conduct of men of honor as
of Christians. Their practices were as dishonest as unholy.
In the year 1830, the Archbishop of Canterbury's income
was stated by his advocate, Dr. Lushington, to be $160,000.
The very next year the return made to the commissioners
was, gross $110,000, net $95,910, and on the ground of prospective diminution, it was written down $85,000.  Yet
during the seven years ending 1843, the Archbishop received,
with the knowledge of the commissioners, an average income of $105,000. Such a proceeding on the part of an
ordinary individual would have insured his transportation
to Botany Bay, but in an Archbishop it passed over without
punishment, and almost without comment. But this fraud,




310                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
stupendous as it seems, is far surpassed in enormity by that
practised by the Bishop of London. In 1831 the Bishop's
income was given at $69,645. Between that year and 1843
a small city of elegant mansions arose on the Bishop's Paddington estate, calculated to produce in rents to the future
Bishops of London $500,000 per annum. During this period this prelate had granted about two thousand leases,
and yet his Lordship's income was given in by himself, in the
year 1843, at $62,000, which was $7,645 less than it was in
1831, before a stone of the new houses on the property had
been laid. Surely a surplice does cover a multitude of sins.
A Bishop is evidently a privileged personage in England.
" Such are the effects of a State-Church on those, who, before they suffered the moral paralysis of ordination and consecration, were probably men of average virtue and honor."
The Bishops, instead of being distinguished -by that zealous independence of spirit which characterized the conduct
of John Knox, even in the presence of his sovereign, and
which should animate every Christian endued with a proper
sense of his duty, are always found the fawning flatterers
of power.  " Sufferance is the badge of all their tribe."
But these aspiring sycophants certainly receive their rewards in this world, and may possibly get their deserts in
the next. They seem to be well aware that merit is rarely,considered in the distribution of church preferments, and
therefore pay their court to nobles with votes and influence to give the government, who are to advance their
spiritual interests.  From  the following list it will be seen
how successfully they have exerted their genius for servility.
" Lowliness is young ambition's ladder."  How many men,
firom the humble pedagogues to youthful peers, have climbed
into being their mitred equals, in the House of Lords. At
the same period we find
TOMLINE, Bishop of Winchester, tutor to Pitt.




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  311
BETHEL, Bishop of Gloucester, tutor to the Duke of
Northumberland.
BLOOnFIELD, Bishop of Chester, married into the Harvey family.
SHARPE, Bishop of Ely, tutor to the Duke of Rutland.
PELHAM, Bishop of Lincoln, brother to the Earl of Chichester.
HUNTINGDON, Bishop of Hereford, tutor to Lord Sidmouth.
HOWLEY, Bishop of London, tutor to the Prince of
Orange.
LAW, Bishop of Bath and Wells, brother to Lord Ellenborough.
To these may be added a list of holy gentlemen who
owed their advancement wholly to family interest.
GREY, Bishop of Hereford, brother of Lord Grey.
POYNTON, Bishop of Derry, brother-in-law of Lord Grey.
RYDER, Bishop of Lichfield, brother of Lord Harroby.
BAGOT, Bishop of Oxford, brother of Lord Bagot.
VERNON, Archbishop of York, brother of the late Lord
Vernon.
If the trouble should be taken to examine any other
period of church history, the same senseless favoritism or
unscrupulous family pride will be found to have caused the
advancement of most of the higher ecclesiastics of the land.
It is true that the former unlimited and exorbitant incomes of the Bishops have been restrained by Parliament
within established limits; Canterbury and the larger sees
being fixed at the moderate sum of $75,000. But when
such shameless abuses have been exposed and are daily being
brought to light, what assurance can the government give the
people that the same disreputable practices do not exist in
all the sees? Read the following extract from the London
Daily News, made during my visit to England:




312                     ENGLISH ITEMS.
OVERPAID BISHOPS. —Durham.-Salisbutry.- Worcester.-It appears,
from a parliamentary paper issued since the dissolution, that in the sixteen years during which the Right Rev. Dr. Maltby has been Bishop
of Durham, the net receipts of his episcopal revenues have been ~342,
143, and that, during this period, he has paid to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners the sum of ~180,127. Deducting, then, the payment from
receipts, the Bishop has, it is clear, enjoyed an episcopal income of upwards of ~10,000 a-year since the year 1836. But in another parliamentary paper, issued in 1851, may be found the opinion of the law
officers of the crown given in 1836-the present Chief Justice of England having been one of them-that "the distinct object of the legislature appears to us to have been, that the sum payable by the Bishop
of Durham should be fixed in the first instance at an amount calculated in the judgment of the Commissioners to leave him a net revenue of
~8,000,: and that this income should remain fixed during his incumbency." Now, this interpretation of the act has never been impeached or
doubted by Dr. Maltby. It follows, therefore, that that right reverend
prelate has, in the last sixteen years, received from the see of Durham
at least ~32,000 more than it was " the distinct object of the legislature "
he should receive. From the same paper, it appears, that in the first
fifteen years' incumbency of the see of Salisbury by Dr. Denison, he
has received the net sum of ~93,954, or about ~6,263 a year. Now, in
the Blue Book issued last year, may also be found an opinion given by
the present Chief Justice Campbell, Lord Justice Lord Cranworth, and
the Judge of the Court of Arches, in which it is stated that, from the
plain intent of the legislature, it was competent to the Ecclesiastical
Commissioners "to charge the Bishop of Salisbury with a contribution, if
it appears that the annual revenue of that see exceeds ~5000." In 1837,
after this opinion was given, Dr. Denison was skilful enough to induce
the Commissioners to come to the opinion that the average income of
the see of Salisbury did not exceed ~5,500; and therefore the Commissioners did "not think it right to recommend any diminution of it;"
whereupon this fortunate prelate "expressed his sense of the Commissioners' attention," and from that day down to the beginning of 1852,
has not paid one penny by way of contribution. As, however, in the
opinion of the three great and eminent lawyers and judges we have
mentioned, his income during those fifteen years ought only to have
been ~5,000-equal in the aggregate to ~60,000-it follows that the
excess received by Dr. Denison beyond that handsome amount has,
morally and arithmetically, been overpaid him. Now his actual re



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.   313
ceipts have been ~93,959, whereas they ought only to have been ~60,
000. Clearly, then, on every principle that ought to regulate a Christian, Dr. Denison now stands indebted to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners of England and Wales in the sum of ~33,959,-without charging
him any interest for the time he has had that amount in his safe keeping. Proceeding from Salisbury to Worcester, we find that Dr. Pepys
has been Bishop thereof for nearly 12 years. In the first ten of those
years,'his net receipts reached ~79,418; and of them he paid over to
the Ecclesiastical Commission ~23,443; leaving him ~55,975 -for himself. But as the amount of income contemplated by the Act, for the
See of Worcester, was only ~5,000, or ~50,000 in ten years; Dr. Pepys
has, it is clear, received ~5,975 more than the legislature intended His
duty, under such circumstances, is plain and clear; he ouqht-1tmake
restitution of that balance to the Ecclesiastical Commission..jA~de
make this suggestion, and request that Dr. Maltby should rwnd the
~32,000, Dr. Denison the ~33,959, and Dr. Pepys the ~5,.75, which
they have received above their fixed income.
Much relief was to have been afforded the people by the
act of parliament, fixing the incomes of the Bishops. Indeed a great hubbub about the reformation ofhe abuses of
Church and State is a periodical occurrence in England.
Meetings are held, addresess are made,..iSions drawn up,
and reform! reform! echoes through the 6'6ntry. Parliament
opens with a set speech by some pa.i.tic member, who in
touching  strains  lays the subject b   r   he  House."
Resolutions are passed, commissionersp e apl inted, reports
made, and a bill passed, which is al sge    to abolish the
doomed nuisance.  The expectatiQns of the people are naturally high, their rejoicings exulting. ThesRelief Bill promises every thing; it accomplishes nothingp  One-half of the
amount, received under the new law by the commissioners,
has been generously appropriated to the palaces and estates
of the Bishops. The other half is consumed in the repairs of
cathedrals and parsonages, and in the salaries of the Mommissioners themselves, and their swarm of satellites, without whom it would be impossible for any commission to
14




314                  ENGLISH ITEMS.
exist in England. How much better would it have been
when it was determined not to lessen the burdens of the
people, to have appropriated the accumulated fund for
the increase of the livings of the poor clergy, instead of
squandering it on the Bishops, who not only receive enormous incomes, and have palaces furnished for their convenience, but they must have vast sums for beautifying these
palaces, in which they live rent-free. In the eight dioceses
given in the list below, which have profited by the commissionqrs' fund there were 502 benefiaes worth less than $500
a year, and 85 under $250, whilst many of the Bishops are
ini the.#nnual receipt of $75,000, with their magnificent
palaees, and estates in addition, and there are some rectors
whose livings bring them $40,000 and $50,000 per annum.
These Bishops are as fatal to the church, as ruinous to the
people. They are like the mistletoe, which saps and destroys
the tree it seems to adorn.
In 1847 tie commissioners had received $1,755,000, of
which $715,000 were lavished on the palaces and estates of
Bishops in the foJwing proportions:
Lincoln,... $263,520
Rochester,.....    127,635
Glouce... 114,485
Ripon,...               68,435
Worcester,.'*....  35,000
Oxford,...                  32,345
Exeter,...  17,500
Bath and Wells,....      20,000
After such an exposition, it seems to me the people would
cease to be gulled by these mockeries of reform. By this
wonderful Bill of Relief nobody was benefited but the commissioners.  The people had the same taxes to pay; and
the Bishops were not allowed to dispose of their former incomes as they pleased, but must take part of them in the




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.   315
form of repairs to palaces, and improvements on estates.
But such is always the game played by the government
when acting in obedience to the cries of "reform."  The
new statutes merely change the destination of the amounts
raised by taxes, instead of removing them altogether. The
same oppression continues to exist, but is considerately disguised under a new name. Reform measures are held out
as a blind to amuse the people, as the crimson flags in
bull-fighting are presented to distract the attention of the
bull from the armed man behind.
The Bishops'.antip/iy to beggars probably arises from
professional jealousy. Hiaving disco.vered the advantages
of the pursuit, they are reluctant to have it crowded by too
large a number of professors.  If these helpless prelates
could be tempted to preach at all, it would be to utter a
tirade against the vagrants who piteously plead for a penny
in the streets; whilst they themselves complacently pocket a
couple of hundred thousand dollars, which they have succeeded in begging for beautifying their palaces. Theiitffrent man-'
ner of receiving these two classes of beggars satisfactorily
exhibits a strange contradiction in England, which prompts
the nation to assist the strong, and abuse the weak. The
idolatry displayed in England for every thing like greatness,
is amazing. A great scoundrel receives a sympathy which
a petty one could never hope to obtain. A mendicant
Bishop, with palaces, estates, and a vast income provided for
his support, pursues his avocation of begging with honor
and success; whilst the starving Lazarus, imploring the
crumbs that fall from the rich man's table, is scorned, reviled, and even punished for daring to ask for bread. The
rosy, reverend gentleman of the Church, whose magnificent
provision should place him above the degradation of almsasking, is lodged in a palace; but the wretched pauper, who
supplicates charity in the form of half-pence, is lodged in




316                ENGLISH ITEMS.
the house of correction.  One begs from a naturally grovelling disposition, and is rewarded with distinction; the other
begs from necessity, and is punished with infamy. The
Bishops hate beggars, because they must share with them
the mite of public charity, which would otherwise fall undivided to their lot. The fortunate recipients of thousands
of pounds in the shape of charity, they are too greedy to
abandon a few paltry half-pence to the wretches they themselves have assisted to make. In the collection of tithes,
what orphan was ever spared, or widow respected?  " Woe
unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye devour
widows' houses, and for a pretence make long prayers:
therefore ye shall receive the greater damnation!"
But when we remember the extrerhes which each worthy
Bishop attempts to reconcile in his own disposition. it no
longer seems wonderful that he needs the charitable assistance of government, to keep his dwelling in repair.  A
Bishop would be ostentatious, and at the same time economical; he would fain be lavish and saving, would appear profuse in expenditure whilst he is sordid in practice. I know
of no two qualities more difficult to sustain without vast
sums of money. A prelate has certainly a most troublesome task to accomplish. To sustain the dignity of the
Church he must vie in splendor and parade with his wealthy
rivals among the temporal Lords, at the same time that he
secures consideration for himself and provides for his family
by hoarding an immense fortune. With two objects, so expensive to attain,'tis not surprising that the Bishops should
be destitute of the means of indulging in charity, or repairing their palaces. Gentlemen oppressed by burdens so
onerous, and so unusual, as their own dignity and their own
family, could scarcely be expected to do any thing so extraordinary as repair their own houses. But difficult as it is
for the same individual to maintain the mignificence of an




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.   317
English prelate and the economy of a prudent father of a
family, the Bishops, assisted by the alms of the government,
appear to manage it. Sir John Newport stated in Parliament, that three Bishops during the fifteen previous years
had died, leaving $3,500,000 each to their families.  How
little this looks like dispensing their salaries in charity.
How poorly it accords with their weekly exhortations —" to
lay up treasures in heaven, where rust doth not corrupt, nor
thieves break through and steal."
It would be evincing an unbecoming disrespect for the
illustrious example of their superiors, if sleek incumbents
and sapient deans did not display the same grasping greediness which characterizes the higher dignitaries of the
Church. The High Church principle is so happily illustrated in the following extract and table, that I cannot
forego the gratification of giving them.
The fiauds committed by deans and chapters have recently been
shown, at least, to equal in flagrancy, those of which the bishops stand
convicted on the evidence adduced before the Ecclesiastical Commission. The property bequeathed to cathedral churches was originally distributed by the donor's will, in certain exact proportions, to the various
officers of the cathedral, to grammar boys to be boarded and educated,
and to other poor beneficiaries. This proportionate annual distribution
was devised in perpetuity, and all deans and chapters to this day bind
themselves individually by oaths of awful solemnity, faithfully to perform the duties of their trust. Instead of keeping these oaths, the dean
and prebendaries now divide vastly-augmented revenues intrusted to
them chiefly among themselves, leaving their weaker and more dependent fellow-beneficiaries profited but slightly, and in many cases not
at all, by the enormous increase of the property in which they have a
joint interest. This shameless dishonesty will appear from the following table, which shows the original as compared with the present stipend of various cathedral functionaries, in different dioceses. The extension of the table to, at least, twelve of the richest cathedrals, would
give a similar result in all



318                     ENGLISH ITEMS.
CANTERBURY.
1542.          1831 and 1849.
~  s. d.            ~  s. d.
Dean..                300 0  0          2,050 0 0
Prebendaries, each..        40 2 11          1,010 0 0
Minor Canons, each.           10 0 0              80 0 0
Grammar boys, each               4 0 0               1 8 4
Bedesmen, each..            6 13 4               6 13 4
ROCHIESTER.
1542.               1840.
~  s. d.            ~  s. d
Dean.                       100  0 0           1,426 0 0
Prebendaries, each.          20  0 0            680 19 0
Minor Canons, each.         10  0 0             30  0 0
Grammar boys, each              2 13 4              2 13 4
Bedesmen, each..           6 13 4                Nil.
WORCESTER.
1542.               1840.
s.   d.                 s.   d.
Dean.                      133 6  8            1,486 0  0
Prebendaries, each.         20 0  0             626 0  0
Minor Canons, each.        10 0  0              36 0  0
Grammar boys, each.            2 13  4              0 5 10
Bedesmen, each..          5 0  0                5 0  0
ELY.
1542.               1840.
~s. d.              ~  s. d.
Dean....           120 7  6           1,357 0 0
Prebendaries, each.          20 0 0             632 0 0
Minor Canons, each             10 0 0               22 10 0
Grammar boys,  (24 at)          3 6 8         (7 at) 3 6 8
Bedesmen, each..           6 13 4               6 13 4
Such is a specimen of the unprincipled rapacity of this branch of
the Anglican clergy, and of the corrupting tendency of our State-church
system. It is melancholy to reflect, how many men have been hanged
within the last forty years for less flagrant delinquencies!
Whenever the friends of freedom and reform  had dared
to assail the holy monster, its sordid worshippers have never
failed to plead its antiquity, as its protection.  But can age




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHIURCHI.  319
make abuses tolerable?  Can long endurance rob oppression
of its sting? This pious horror in Churchmen of disturbing
existing forms, has no doubt preserved unaltered the pittance
originally doled out to Grammar boys and Bedesmen,
though it was not strong enough to retain the same exactness with regard to the salaries of the Deans themselves.
If the poor boys, for whose benefit the charities were originally established, are not to be allowed to receive more than
their original stipend, the surplus revenues would have been
better employed in alms to England's three millions of paupers, than in increasing the salaries of these lazy churchmen,
who apparently have more belly than conscience. But it
seems that these antiquated forms of the church are only inviolable, when they minister to the selfishness of its votaries.
The church itself is only maintained as a convenient and respectable hiding-place, where churchmen may nestle in
corruption.
The delegation of political power to the priesthood has
always produced, in every country where it has occurred,
bigotry in the church and tyranny in the government.  It
leagues together two powerful accomplices for the oppression
of the people. It is destructive to all civil and religious
liberty. The clergy are denied by our government all participation in political power; and wisely has it been done.
There can be no liberty where there is not freedom of conscience. To restrain the free intercourse between man and
man is tyranny. What shall we call the attempt to coerce
a man's communion with his God? A man's conscience is
too sacred-religion is too holy to be subjected to the control of human institutions. To declare by law the manner
in which a man must approach in prayer the throne' of his
Maker, is sacrilege. It is exalting earthly things above
divine.
The unhallowed connection between Church and State,




320                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
as unnatural as Pasiphae's amour with the bull, has produced in England a monstrosity, with all the hideousness,
and more than the voracity of the Minotaur. What can be
more hideous to a pious mind than making a trade of religion? What can be more revolting even to a worldling
than the idea of serving God as a shopman serves his customers, for a living? The church, not satisfied with the
tithes of England, which are annually offered up like the
seven chosen youths of Athens to appease the voracity of
the Minotaur, extends her devouring appetites to poor famished Ireland. She greedily gleans amidst the ruins that
famine and misrule have made, the tear-stained means to
support her bloated opulence. She wrings from misery reluctant contributions, which she only needs to minister to
her luxury.
Why is not Scotland too made to contribute to the support of this magnificent establishment? Why is she not
called upon to assist in filling the gaping coffers of the
English church? Rich and prosperous, she is much better
able, it seems to me, to bear such exorbitant demands, than the
land of suffering Erin. But no. The holy fathers of the church
seem endued with discretion not inferior to their voracity.
It is easy work, worthy of unwarlike churchmen, to despoil
poor prostrate Ireland; but Scotland has alike the will
and the power to resist oppression. Her strength is her protection. With Christian forbearance the Bishops
"Trample on the worm, but pause e'er they wake
The slumbering venom of the folded snake."
In Ireland the natural order of things is reversed.  The
people exist for the benefit of the government, and not the
government for the sake of the people.  This unhappy country has ever been regarded as a safe and convenient place
to quarter needy court favorites, and useful creatures of the




PRLESENT STATE OF TH'E ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  3'21
crown. Clergymen take benefices in Ireland as bankrupt
noblemen make tours on the continent, to recruit their exhausted finances.  Absenteeism is even more fashionable
among them than the landlords of the country. The Earl
of Bristol, Bishop of Derry, spent twenty years in Italy, and
during that time received $1,200,000.
There are in Ireland but half a million of Protestants,
yet previous to the passage of the reform bill an establishment of twenty-two Bishops were sumptuously supported,
although what all of them pretended to superintend one
Bishop in England would do. It is true that the number
of high dignitaries in Ireland is now reduced to two Archbishops and twelve Bishops; but what enormous disproportion between the extent of the church establishment, and the
number of church members in the two countries! What
monstrous injustice!
The value of the ecclesiastical revenue of Ireland was,
in 1834, over $7,000,000. There were 3,195 places, divided
among 850 persons, giving to each an average of more than
$8,000. Thus we have an example of the Established
Church in Ireland, claiming, in order to minister to the
religious comfort of one-fourteenth of the population, onetenth of the entire produce of the soil for the support of
eight millions of people, in addition to her own vast revenues. Yet England professes to wonder that the people are
starving, and the country is depopulated. The attempt to
force the Established Church on Ireland has brought misery
on a brave nation. What change have centuries of oppression effected in the religious opinions of the country? Ireland now presents the strange scene of tithe-fed clergymen
without parishes, parishes without churches, and churches
without people.  Of her 2,394 parishes, 155 have no
church, and not a single Protestant inhabitant, and there
are 895 parishes with less than 50 Protestant inhabitants,
14*




322                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
including men, women and children. But the payment of
the pastor is as compulsorily exacted in these parishes as in
any others.  The following table presents a glimpse of the
strange state of things in Ireland.
Members of          Tithe
Parishes.         the State Church.    Composition.
Kilkalty               13... ~400
Ballyhea.. 15.. 400
Templeracarigy         27                 498
Ballyvourney..   30.               500
Ardagh                 14                 600
Whitechurch.. 20. 784
Mogeesha               19                 809
Clonfriest..   35.... 869
173             ~4,860 or $24,300
That there is as much difference in the amount of duty as
in the pay of the Catholic priesthood and the clergy of the
Established Church, I beg leave to call attention to the following facts. In the district of New Erin there are 4,500
Catholics, and 30 Protestants; in Donnes Keath, there are
5,700 Catholics, and 90 Protestants.  But, in both these, as
in Kilcummin and Tollamore, where there was not a single
member of the Established Church, there were four or five
c4ergymen, and but one priest.
It is singular that in a nation professing to be so nervously proper as the English, among a people so nervously
tenacious of every imagined right, the present system of appointing clergymen should, for a day, be permitted to prevail. It is the boast of Englishmen that the accused in
England enjoy the privilege of being tried by their peers;
in legal questions, touching the rights of property, every
man is allowed to select his own advocate; in Parliamentary and other elections, every voter can freely exercise the
right of suffrage; but in the question of salvation, the peo



PRESENT STAT'E OF T'LE EST'ABLISIHED CHIURCII.  323
ple have no voice at all.  With regard to life, property and
franchise, they have rights, and can maintain them; but the
privilege of selecting their own ministers of religion is denied this self-styled " freest nation upon earth."  " What
shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and
lose his own soul 2" But the souls of the populace in England weigh but little in the scales against the rights of the
aristocracy.  Their church-livings are the most profitable
portion of their personal possessions.  The order must be
sustained, though heaven itself be forfeited.  For the' most
ordinary duty men are generally selected whose zeal and
whose talents best fit them for its performance.  And the
reward for its execution should remain in the power of the
employers, as a guarantee of good faith on the part of him
who undertakes it. These are simple precepts, recognized
in the least important of worldly transactions; but in ministering the holy offices of religion, they are scornfully disregarded.  Court favor, family interest, or the sordid disposition of the owner of the living, regulates the appointment
of every minister of the Established Church in England.
The arrogant proprietor of a benefice presents it to him who
fawns most, or pays highest, without the slightest regard to
his qualifications.  He may be ignorant; immoral, and, in
every respect, repulsive to his congregation, but the laws
are inexorable: he must not only preside at the desk of the
church to which he has been so arbitrarily appointed, but he
must be handsomely supported by its members.  There i
no power of appeal in the people.  The unwelcome intruder'
must continue a life-long burden to any parish on which his
wealthy patron has been pleased to impose him. Should such
an unwarrantable interference with the pettiest bargains of
the people be attempted by the government, it would be denounced in all parts of the kingdom, as a heinous offence
against the liberties of the subject.  But, as only religion,




324                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
and not money. is involved in the outrages perpetrated by
the owners of cllurch-livings, they not only pass without censure, but without comment.  The relative value of salvation
and lucre is reversed in Great Britain. Though the aristocracy boldly endanger the first, they have not the moral
courage to give up the last.  The patronage of church-livings is a very profitable source of revenue.  What considerations, then, earthly or divine, could induce its surrender?
The titles which subject church-livings to the same laws of
sale and transfer as any other personal property are founded
in superstition or corruption, and should not therefore be
sustained.  Robber Barons, haunted on their death-beds by
the fearful memories of a life of bloodshed and crime, had,
in making rich bequests to the church, prayed that some
favorite might be remembered in the appointment of parish
priests. Or intriguing worldings had boldly bargained with
unscrupulous monks for the rights of presentation to certain
livings in the church, in exchange for land and money, which
were far dearer to the priesthood, than the proper administration of religion to the people. The acquired privileges
were handed from father to son till the Reformation, when
this glaring abuse should have been earliest abolished. But
the traffic was too much in accordance with the social principles of the people seriously to offend their religion. The
church-livings were still considered property, but the titles
were piously transferred to the supporters of the new form
of religion, and are still acknowledged to the shame of the
Established Church of England.  The English, with their
idolatrous respect for birth, could not be expected to interfere
even with abuses made sacred by so holy an origin.
The church-livings continue therefore a fruitful source of
corruption in the government, and moral debasement in the
people.  Of the benefices of England 1301 are assigned to
the Bishops, as if purposely to tempt them to make pluralists




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  325
and non-residents of their relations and favorites, to the great
scandal of that church of whose piety and purity they are
the responsible representatives:  1048 of them belong to
the crown, to be judiciously divided among the properest
tools of despotism, who are required to propound doctrines
of abject submission and slavish compliance, instead of
making the pulpit, as it was during our own glorious revolution, the fountain of liberty as well as religion. The
6,619 livings owned by private individuals are the cause of
degradation to their owners, and debasement to the people.
The conscience of their proprietors is seared, and their hearts
hardened in this fearful traffic of human souls, whilst the
moral character of the nation is debased by the appointment
of unworthy persons as clergymen, whose example and precepts are to direct their religious aspirations.  To complete
the list of benefices, 982 belong to Deans and Chapters, and
743 to the Universities.  As an example of the manner in
which they are divided: the Archbishop of Canterbury alone
is patron of 149 livings. The Duke of Beaufort has 26, and
the Duke of Devonshire 31 shares in these holy stocks,
whilst His Grace of Bedford possesses 32, probably in consideration of his being descended from the virtuous Duke of
Bedford to whom Junius addressed his famous letter.
Before it is decided by the parents of a boy whether he
shall become a lawyer, a physician, an officer in the army, or
a member of some useful mechanical trade, it is always determined whether he is qualified for the position. But the
dunce of the family, in England is too often made a minister
merely because his stupidity unfits him for every thing else,
and because his family happens to possess the necessary influence to procure for him this easy mode of making a comfortable living. Piety is the first requisite in a clergyman,
but even when accompanied with the most brilliant talents
it has but little chance of preferment in the Established




326                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
Church of England unless backed by fortune and friends.
Genius is altogether unnecessary, and piety is not expected
in her ministers.  Not the religious instruction of the people
but the pockets of the owners are the primary object of the
presentations to church-livings.
But the incompetency of the clergy which must inevitably result from this faulty mode of presentation, serious as
it is, is not the most monstrous of the abuses to which the
system is subject. If those who have livings in their gift
would confine themselves to the appointment of incompetent
relations and dependants, the church might escape without
more serious hurt, than having its sacred offices ministered
by silly but inoffensive people. But the venal instincts of
the nation prompt the lucky proprietors of these church-livings shamelessly to dispose of them to the highest bidder.
Who can wonder that the church is disgraced by improper
persons as its ministers?  Though Englishmen might deal
in all else; though they might sell country, honor and
friends, it seems to me that even their hardened hearts
ought to be appalled by the thought of making a traffic of
religion.  They profess to despise those engaged in ordinary
commerce, but their delicate natures are'not at all shocked
by this sacrilegious commerce in the souls of men.  The
value of the article dealt in probably elevates it in their estimation above the sordid nature of other branches of trade.
A banker is more respected than a merchant in England;
and I suppose on the same principle a dealer in salvation is
deemed a much more honorable sort of personage than a
dealer in codfish.  How can the people reverence religion
with the pious adoration becoming in Christians, when they
see its holy offices bartered for, as any other kind of merchandise?  With a vicious worldling as their minister is it
strange that they should falter in their respect for the
church? 1WV'hcn tlhc se ce evervwhere t lhe forms. but seek




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  327
in vain for the spirit of religion, is it not natural that they
should learn to think that their duty to heaven was accomplished by going to church? Is it surprising that with them
piety should mean a gilded prayer-book, and well-cushioned
pew? that religion should consist-in kneeling, and charity
in loud-uttered responses?  Is it remarkable that they
should serve God by subscribing for a finer church than
their neighbors, and think they obey all the admonitions of
heaven in taking the sacrament from a costly service of silver plate?
But when once ordained the ministers of the Established
Church of England are fixtures for life. Blackwood's Magazine, the usual advocate of Tory and High Church principles, has candidly confessed that " a clergyman may be destitute of religious feeling; he may be grossly immoral; he
may discharge his duties in the most incompetent manner
and lose his flock; he may almost do any thing short of
legal crime, and still he will neither forfeit his living nor
draw upon himself any punishment."
We are assured that every precaution has been taken to
suppress the scandalous sale of church-livings.  But statutes
have been multiplied and solemn oaths have been devised to
very little purpose.  It requires a cunning contrivance to
restrain the avarice of an Englishman. Upon his institution a clergyman is compelled to swear that " he gave not
the least consideration whatever either himself, directly or
indirectly, nor any person for him with his privity, knowledge
or consent." But oaths are not apt to be binding among a
people where religion itself is so little respected.  The fact
of a man's being willing to purchase a living when he must
do so in violation of so serious an oath, should be taken as
convincing evidence of his being unworthy of the place.
But what is his unworthiness to the owner of the benefice,
if he pays well for it?  It is his anxiety to realize the




328                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
greatest amount of profit by the transaction, and one man's
money is.as good as another's.
It frequently happens that all decency in the arrangement is forgotten, and both seller and buyer are present at
the bargain But a conscientious gentleman, whose mind,
more timid, is still haunted by the spectres of the outward
forms of propriety, will square accounts with his conscience
by getting a friend to buy the living and present it to him.
His own money makes the purchase, but he does not buy
the benefice. What a silly contrivance to impose on sensible people! Yet it is sufficient to protect the offender from
the rigors of the law. He pockets the fruits of his perjury
but whispers to remorse, " Back-back, vile demon! thou
canst not say that I did it." Under a system so vicious,
men, the most depraved in their tastes and debauched in
their habits, may become ministers of God's holy word.
They have only to pay the price and swear that they did not
pay it. And when we remember how sure, how profitable,
and how respectable an investment a living in the church
is, it is not at all remarkable that such disreputable members of society should be eager to become purchasers. It
seems to me that prayers uttered by their vile breath could
not ascend to heaven, but would hang over their congregations like a cloud between them and the glory of their
Maker.  This is not one of the Legendary abuses of the
High Church system that modern progress and reform have
long since corrected. This is not one of those crying sins
which only exist now in memories of brawling dissenters and
discontented radicals.  It is an affair of every-day occurrence.  Church-livings are as regularly advertised for sale
in the public prints with a florid parade of their advantages,
as we would advertise farms with their convenient appurtenances. In support of what I declare, I give the following




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCII.   329
extract from the London Times made during my recent
visit to England.
TRAFFIC IN ADVOWSONS.-We have received the following letter on
this subject from "S. G. O." (the Rev. Mr. Osborn):Sir-your paper of August 5, contains an advertisement headed
"Next Presentation to a valuable Living in Dorsetshire," "a most highly desirable living," situation "salubrious," "annual value upwards of
~700 per annum, with a capital residence, garden and pleasure-grounds
most tastefully laid out,"." population 1000," present incumbent 80 years
of age." I must add to the above description, there are two churches,
two dissenting places of worship, two resident Roman Catholic priests,
and a very large nunnery. You have now before you the parish of
Spetisbury-cum-Charlton. To any one with money to invest in a cure
of souls, can a more tempting speculation be offered? By the bye, the
advertisement adds, " the rent-charge is easily collected." I must, however, protest against the course which has been pursued to obtain
grounds for this amount of temptation-i. e., the putting in, a very
short time since, the old man of 80, who for many years past, on his
own petition to the bishop, was declared incapable of performing duty,
had a dispensation from residence on his then living, and was not instituted to this living with the least expectation that he would reside on
it. The patron, wise in his generation, has done the best the law allows him to do to make the article suddenly thrown on his hands of
the utmost salable value; the Church, to her shame, has per fas ant
nefas become a party consenting to the transaction. We have been
lately cited with all due solemnity to the solemn (?) work of sending
proctors to Convocation. I was not able to attend; had I done sohad I proposed the Rev. Mr. Baskett, the octogenarian incumbent of
Spetisbury-cum-Charlton, on the grounds that he had been just instituted by my diocesan to one of the most important cures in the diocese,
and therefore I had a right to presume had not only an experience
from his age few possess, but also this recent public testimonial to his
worth as a parochial minister-would any one member of that solemn
conclave have ventured on the indecency of saying, " Sir, Mr. B. was
appointed to this important cure not for his capacity, but being incapable; he was not chosen because his age gave him experience, but because 80 years of age in an advertisement, as the age of the present incumbent, makes the living more valuable in the market; he was too in



830                   ENGLISH ITEMS.
firm to reside on his last living-he has no intention of residing on this
one." From the presiding archdeacon to the apparitor in waiting the
idea would have been scouted, and yet-so it is.
From  the following advertisment of a church-living it
might be reasonably supposed that there was an occasional
Nimrod among the holy fathers of the church.
To be sold, the next presentation to a vicarage, in one of the midland counties, and in the immediate neighborhood of one or two of
the first packs offox-hounds in the kingdom. The present annual income about ~580, subject to curate's salary. The incumbent in his
60th year.
Yet the pious gentlemen for whose avarice these advertisements are intended as a bait, are asked at their ordination, "whether they feel themselves moved by the Holy
Ghost to take upon them the sacred office of the ministry?"
Their answers are of course in the affirmative. But who
can doubt that the emoluments of the living, and not the
"Holy Ghost," had moved the zealous candidate for churchpreferment? It would be sacrilege to treat the more serious
concerns of human life with, such solemn mockery, but the
language has no term  properly to describe the profanity of
subjecting religion to such impious practices.
The Bishops are surrounded by a swarm of Deans, Ar;chdeacons, Prebendaries, Chancellors, Commissaries, Surrogates, Registrars, Proctors, Apparitors, &c. &c., to the end
of a long list, the only apparent object of whose maintenance at an enormous annual expense is to increase the pomp,
and expose the follies of the Established Church. Cranmer
has justly described them as " good vianders too much given
to belly cheer."  The Deans and Chapters nominally elect
the Bishops.  This is the most miserable of all bad farces.
The Bishops are really appointed by the crown, and the
Deans and Chapters hurry through a form of forced ratifica



PRESENT STATE OF THIE ESTABLISHED CIIHURCH.II    331
tion. For this important duty they enjoy an income of
about 82,500,000. But useless as these crowds of sinecures
appear, it is evident to the close observer that their numbers, the absence of all duty, and the large salaries, make them
eagerly sought by the younger sons and poor relations of
nobles; they are essential to the prime object of government,
the preservation of the order of nobility. They materially
increase the number of lazy situations, with fat wages, adapted to the tastes and indolence of the younger sprigs of nobility who are habitually quartered on the people.
The Established Church is a double curse to the people
of England.  It assails their freedom  and interferes with
their religious instruction. The vast revenues of the church
are monopolized by the Bishops, dignitaries, and aristocratic
pluralists, whilst the curates, the real ministers to the religioius wants of the people, are starving upon the miserable
pittances doled out to them by their rich patrons. At a particular epoch in the history of the church there was one individual who united in his own person eleven livings. But
here is a list of the pluralists.
Number of                          Livings held
Individuals.                         by each.
1                                  11
1                                   8
5 
12                                   6
64                                   5
209                                   4
567                                  3
2027                                  2
Yet it was a violation alike of law and the canons of the
church that any minister should hold more than one living.
The outrage would be less flagrant if this " simony" was
tolerated in order to relieve the holders of the poorer livings




332                    ENGLISH ITEMS.
from almost penury by conferring several of them on one'
minister. But those places which are most greedily pounced
upon by the aristocratic pluralists and non-residents are the
richest benefices in the church, some of them being worth forty
or fifty thousand dollars a year. Every pluralist must be a
non-resident in some of his benefices, and the majority of
them enjoy the profits of several livings without residing in
any of them.  Indeed it is their intention to accumulate the
incomes of as many valuable livings as will enable them to
leave their parishes and dash and dissipate in the fashionable
circles of the metropolis.  The nation are thus not only burdened with their enormous salaries, but are by them deprived
of the advantages they might enjoy from their ministers not
being rich enough to live much abroad. As an evidence that
the English sense of right is not wholly dead with regard to the
monstrous abuses of the church, I append the following extracts from the comments of the Times of August last on Mr.
Robert Moore, who in his own person united the rich livings
of Hunton, Latchington, Eynesford, and Hollingsbourne, besides a cathedral stall, and the principal registrarship  of
Doctors Commons.
A great deal, as might have been expected, has been written and
said of the Rev. ROBERT MOORE and his emoluments. The discovery or
rather the public announcement, that in the middle of this 19th century
there still existed an individual possessing in private fee a sinecure office worth 9,0001. a year, a rectory worth 10001., a second rectory worth
another 10001., a third producing 6001., a fourth 1501., and a cathedral
stall of the most desirable fertility to boot, was an incident well calculated to arrest the attention of the public. Such visions are monsters
of the old moral world, and are gazed upon like the gigantic fossils of a
past creation. Mr. Moore, however, is pained at his own attractions,
and feels hurt, as he expressed to ourselves, at the reflection that he
"should have been held up more than others similarly circumstanced
to public odium, and made the subject of misrepresentation and exaggeration." Now, though our first considerations are due to the inter




PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  333
ests of the community at large, we should but ill discharge our office if
we rendered less than justice to any individual. Once more, therefore,
with a confident expectation that we shall carry with us the opinions
of the public, and with some hopes of extorting the assent even of Mr.
Moore hitelf, we submit his case to a fair and comprehensive review.
The Times appears not so much surprised by the existence
of so outrageous an abuse, as by its " public announcement."
That the case should have been brought before the public
does seem strange indeed, when so much pains is ordinarily
taken to conceal the peculations of Church and State.
When the fact is notorious that the poor clergy and the
curates perform all the clerical labors of the Established
Church, what object is attained by supporting these wealthy
pluralists who do no duty at all, unless it is to oppress the
people and sustain the fictitious superiority of the aristocracy? This, however, is one of the worthy aims of the British
government.  If every congregation were permitted to select
from free choice its own minister and compensate him with a
reasonable salary, such clergymen only would officiate whose
piety, whose talents, and the correctness of whose lives eminently fitted them for so responsible a position.  Worldly and
worthless characters would be no longer tempted by excessive
pay to enter upon duties so holy and so little congenial to their
dispositions. The people would be freed from the present
crushing weight of the Church, and have their religious ceremonies performed by sincere and zealous Christians. Pluralists and non-residents would be unknown in the Church,
for pious and not sordid considerations would then influence
men to take holy orders. The people would be improved by
the unaffected devotion of their pastors, instead of being corrupted by seeing how little regard for heaven they have,
who have been called to preach it.
The High Church system is unjust and oppressive to its
own members, but is cruel in the extreme to unfortunate dis



*334                ENGLISH ITEMS.
senters.  It impoverishes thein by compelling them to contribute to its own support in addition to sustaining their own
clergymen; and it outrages the pious feelings of conscientious Christians by forcing them to contribute to the maintenance of a form of religion which their hearts cJgdemn as
wrong. The dissenters of England form no inconsiderable
remnant of the population whose voice is naturally lost
amidst the joyful songs of the large majority. The government discourages every attempt to ascertain their true
strength and respectability, and affects to regard and treat
them as an obscure faction, the smallness of whose numbers
renders them unworthy of being listened to when they complain. But those who have had an opportunity of judging
them " by their works" must feel convinced, that if they are
not more numerous they are much more active than the
clergy and members of the Established Church. But take
the county of Lancashire, from which returns have been
made. It was found that there were 590 dissenting churches
and 255,411 sectarians. There were 281 places of worship
according to the Established Church, and the entire population of the county was 1,052,859 persons. Those who were
numbered among the sectarians must of course have been
active members of some congregation, whilst the census of
the country included people of all ages and conditions; this
could not therefore present a fair proportion between the
churches. But a reasonable calculation would enable us to
conclude, that under this iniquitous system nearly one-half
of the people were taxed to build churches they never
entered, and to support ministers they never heard.  The
number too of dissenters is daily increasing.  Zeal and sincerity must eventually overcome formal hypocrisy.  But
even, when the religious opinions of the nation are wholly
reformed, the wealth and selfishness of the stubborn aristoc



PRESENT STATE OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH.  335
racy will still remain an insurmountable barrier to reformation in church government.
I have attempted to describe the results from the sordid
system ~    e, prevailing among the pious proprietors of
churchW!  I shall give but one example of the abuses
of ~    favoritism, in the presentation to livings, is capable.'t was the original intention of Cranmer, in his code,
which the death of Edward VI. prevented from passing into
a law, that bastards should " not be admitted to orders, or
livings as a consequence, unless they had eminent qualities."
" But the bastards of patrons were, on no account, to be inducted into preferments, if presented to them by their presumed parents." Had this provision taken effect, it would
have been somewhat unfortunate for the Rev. Lord Augustus Fitzclarence, the natural son of William IV. by Mrs.
Jordan, who has, since 1829, been the rector of Mapleduram, and is the private chaplain of Her Majesty Queen
Victoria. His Reverend Lordship happily illustrates, in his
own preferment, the rather loose code of morals acknowledged by the Church, as his only possible claim upon her
munificence rests on the fact of his parents having outraged
her most sacred rite.  But the absurd superstition that
"the king can do no wrong" may be incorporated in the
religion, as well as the constitution of England, for aught I
know; and there may be no particular indecency in rewarding the profligate bastard of a profligate king with the holy
office of minister of God's word. Those who will call to
mind the chaste vindictiveness with which Queen Victoria
prosecuted the Lady Flora Hastings affair, must be somewhat surprised at the intimate spiritual relations which exist
between Her Majesty and this reverend individual, merely
because he chances to be the result of a caprice of a royal
personage for an actress.  But one might infer that Her
Majesty entertained quite an affection for her accidental




336                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
relations, as another of the Fitzclarences enjoys the honor
of commanding the royal yacht.
But the legion of church abuses, which now make the
wicked scoff and the pious grieve, must contj     curse
Great Britain, whilst money is regarded as t l blessing by the nation. Religion must always suffer ub ad
disadvantages, when compelled to contend with avance in
the heart of an Englishman. Whilst the aristocracy have
benefices to sell, and younger sons to provide for, the church
will be retained as a cloak for their dishonorable practices.




hERALDRY.                     337
CHAPTER XII.
HERALDRY.
THE  mysterious mummery of Heraldry is one of those
farcical superstitions, still tenderly cherished by the
British aristocracy. The whole power of the English government is exerted to make this venerable absurdity respectable. A mightynation unites in pronouncing its pedantic
nonsense the wisdom of an oracle.
A college of thirteen persons is maintained, at the expense of the government, to practise this sacred hocus-pocus
for the satisfaction of its subjects.  Each member of this
learned institution must graduate in gibberish, and a man,must possess sheepskin authority for indulging in Heraldic
slang.  The highest importance is attached to the edicts of
the Heralds. Their simplest fiat becomes supreme law. No
court of justice can change, nor can the sovereign himself,
modify their decisions. All classes look up to them with
equal veneratibn. The low-born regard them with awve, for
it is from their college that must issue every testimonial of
gentility acknowledged in the kingdom. And they wield
over the nobility, as keepers of their pedigrees, that sort of
influence which a father confessor obtains over a man, in
becoming keeper of his conscience.
The college has retained, with its defunct technicalities
and outlandish phrases, something of the barbaric magnificence of chivalry.  The three kings-at-arms, with their four
15r~




338                 ENGLISII  ITEMS.
Heralds and six Pursuivants, still play a conspicuous part
in all court ceremonies and state shows.  Arrayed in the
gorgeous costumes of their order, stiff with gold lace, and
bedizened by the grotesque symbols of their scitce, they
assume the stately strut, as well as the grandile~uent language, of the middle ages. And yet the multitude seem to
discover nothing ludicrous about this masquerade of exploded
fashions, in which the Heralds must perform  the solemn
farce allotted to them.
They profess to cling with fond tenacity to Heraldry,
as a lingering remnant of chivalry. I delight in the days
of love and lances; I love to dwell on the heroism and
high-toned honor of the devoted knights. Embalmed in all
the poetry of its nature, the tales of chivalry have always
exercised over me a witching fascination, that no other portion of history possessed.  The souls that could melt to
tenderness in silent adoration of a ribbon, or a glove, and
yet boldly break lances in the name of the fair givers of
these holy relies, have always commanded my highest admiration. - Devotion to a woman is the onlyfeeling which-does
not become absurd when indulged to excess.  But chivalry
only lives when surrounded by the atmosphere of fancy.
As the beauteous moth,which has existed for ages imbedded
jn amber, sickens and dies when its sparkling prison is
broken, so the romantic deeds of chivalry become ridiculous when removed from the bright realms of imagination.
What a storm of derision would assail any modern Don
Quixote, who would insert his head in an iron kettle, and
wander about the country with sixty or a hundred pounds,;f pot-nietal on his back, merely for the fun of-bloody noses
n,:d broken heads.  In these modern days of utilitarian doc-;ines, a broken head, in whatever cause it may have beeR;cquired, is considered any thing  but ornamental.  And a
dinner-pot is believed to be a  muclh imore apprlopriate recep



IIERALDRY.                   339
tacle of a Westphalia ham, than the cracked pate of its romantic owner. A man would justly be deemed a fool to
risk his neck for a smile of his lady-love, in the noise, dust
and discomfort of a tournament, when he might convince
her of his unshaken devotion with so much less trouble. A
lover will quaff several glasses of champagne to the health
of his mistress, who has decorated his button-hole with the
satin ribbon from her shoe, but he could'scarcely be expected by the exacting damsel herself to shed a single drop
of his blood, in appreciation of the honor. Why then, when
the most beautiful portions of this romantic code appear so
absurd when applied to modern actions, should a barbarous
folly connected with it be retained, which chivalry itself only
tolerated because it was necessary? For then the mailed
hands of the thick-skulled Barons were much more cunning
in the use of -a lance than a pen, and their signet-rings,
adorned with their peculiar coat of arms, were indispensable
in signing important documents and holding secret communion with distant friends. But thanks to the enterprising
efforts of the Dominie Samsons of England, the Nobility
can now indite a scrawl, recognizable in the courts of law
as their legal signatures, and raging bears and rampant lions
have ceased to be necessary to represent the sign-manual of
these respectable gentlemen.
Tilting is both dangerous and laborious. Platonic attachments haive been found, upon experiment, a bore; apd
the English gentry have something else to do, besides wander about the country seeking whom they.may devour. The
romantic portion of'Knight-errantry has been unanimously
voted a nuisance, but Heraldry is retained- to exalt the nation's vanity at the expense of its common sense. The aristocracy require the College of Heralds to assay the old nobility
before declaring its worth, and by stamping the new, to give it
currency. Although they themselves must feel that the coin




340                 EiNGLISII ITEMS.
is spurious, yet so long as the whole nation continue weak
enough to receive it as genuine, they will, from feelings of
self-interest, do all in their power to promote its circulation.
The fact of the Heralds' College being " incorporated
and invested with many privileges and immunities," by the
third Richard, forms a somewhat remarkable coincidence
with the arbitrary exercise of authority by that institution.
But though founded and professedly sustained to preserve
intact the precious superiority of noble blood, over all other
less pure sources; although its chief duty is to treasure those
noble and generous qualities in which the nobility are said
to excel, yet it happens, strangely enough, to furnish the
most indubitable evidence of the omnipotence of money in
Great Britain.
W.ith regard to all "scutcheons of honor or pretence,"
the Heralds are absolute. They provide appropriate genealogies for newly created peers.  They decide, without
appeal, who is genteel.  They furnish for a compensation
ancestors and coats of arms to rich parvenues, whose families have hitherto been unfortunately innocent of such expensive appendages. In reference to all these matters no
man dares question their decisions.  "But the evidence of
Heralds to support pedigrees is not received in courts of
justice."   Thus we see this sordid nation unhesitatingly
trusting their noble titles, and what ought to be dearer than
all titles of distinction, their honor, to the keeping of these
bombastic numskulls, but when their fiats happen to involve
something more substantial than the confirmation of a new
title, or the arrangement of an imaginary line of ancestors,
they are altogether disregarded.  Their evidence is not received in courts of justice.  The nobility deem the Heralds
good enough guardians of titles, but their Lordships prefer
taking care of their purses themselves.  The shallowest researches of the College can legally enrich a man in all sorts




HERALDRY.                    341
of ancestral glory, but their most labor6d efforts, in establishing his descent, cannot confer upon him an acre of land.
Its pedantic certificate may give or take away gentility, but
its most solemn oath in a court of justice cannot interfere
with the sacred inviolability of cash.  This is something
too precious to be tampered with by such empirics as the
Heralds.  An Englishman esteems his honor of so little
value himself, that he is not at all apprehensive of being
robbed of it by a neighbor.  It may therefore be safely
intrusted to a Herald.  But money is of so delicate, so
evanescent a nature, is so highly prized and eagerly sought
for, that it is believed dangerous to confide it to such unscrupulous guardians as the College of Heralds. When questions of money are agitated, all the learning and experience
of the most learned professors of the law are called in,
though the Heraldic College is thought adequate to determining the doubtful quality of a man's blood. Perhaps the
nation are right for being a little skittish of the most venerable college. The initiated are too familiar with the ready
means of procuring for wealthy clients Heraldic evidence
of, I care not what, willingly to confide to their decision so
important a portion of themselves as their purses.
It is well known that any man is entitled to the Heraldic
distinction of a coat of arms who can afford to live without
occupation and to pay liberally for the honor. The king at
arms may at any time create a gentleman by granting a crest.
Indeed the Heralds' College may be described as a wholesale manufactory of gentlemen.  Masses as incongruous as
the contents of a chiffonier's rag-basket at Paris, may be
thrown into the extraordinary Heraldic machine, and yet
nothing but gentlemen are turned out, just as paper is produced from all sorts of rags. Gold is the principal ingredient used in this magical process. It is found to be an
acid sufficiently powerful to reduce materials however rude




342                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
and vulgar to the proper consistency for the manufacture of
gentlemen.  But unfortunately for the success of the makers
the genuine article is so readily counterfeited that they are
compelled to pin a label, in the shape of a co'at of arms, on
each gentleman's back, as the maker's name is pasted on a
vial of Jule's hair tonic, to prevent impositions on the unsuspecting public.
If there be any thing really contaminating about industrial pursuits, it is worse than folly to pretend that the
Queen, assisted by her Heralds, can remove the pollution.
If there be any thing disreputable about the manufacture of
soap, or the brewing of beer, what must we think of the
understandings of people who profess to believe. that the
Queen, bypronouncing a few words of Heraldic jargon, and
touching a shoulder with a sword, can miraculously purify
blood which has been for centuries thickened by soft soap,
or cleanse veins that have been for ages muddied by stale
beer? The candidate for gentility, after passing through
the hands of the Queen, is subjected to the legerdemain of
the chief Herald, who gabbles some mysterious incantation,
and, presto, the impure sources of his blood are magically
made worthy to mingle with the Helicon streams of the
aristocracy.  Previous to this juggling lustration, the gentlemen of England would have felt contaminated by any
association, however formal, with the vulgar tradesman; but
the instant he has his card of variegated hieroglyphics hung
about his neck by the Heralds, he is deemed no longer an
improper companion for the aristocracy. If our transmuted
brewer be ambitious of ancestral honors, he can be readily
provided by the Heraldic College with a line of doughty forefathers, whose extent shall be warranted to bear a mathematical proportion to the length of his purse. If he is unfortunately troubled with some not very euphonic appellation, a sufficient outlay in the same quarter will readily re



HERALDRY.                    343
lieve him of the incumbrance. Any name can be metamorphosed to suit any taste, whether it inclines to the heroic
or the sentimental.  Hodges, for instance, by an ingenious
transposition and alteration of letters by the Heralds, may
be changed into Hengist and IIorsa; and the various corruptions by which the originally heroic name has degenerated
into plebeian Hodges will be so minutely traced, and satisfactorily established, that no reasonable man can longer entertain a doubt that our plain Hodges is a veritable descendant from one of the northern demigods.
It is strange that the nation should continue to hearken
to the senseless prate of the Heralds, when they are aware
how easily wealth may procure its advantages. Vast revenues, judiciously invested, may not only ennoble their possessor, but procure for him, if desirable, new name, ancestors
and position.  The Heraldic College is certainly an inestimable blessing  to the upstart wealth of Great Britain,
since, by its alchemy, the sordid gains of a vulgar tradesman
can be transformed into ample possessions of a proud noble.
But, in providing an aspirant with pedigree and coat of arms,
all metaphorical allusions even to the past pursuits of the
new-made gentleman are studiously avoided.  This is an
egregious fault.  The arms of the fresh aristocrat should
possess some allegorical connection at least with his manner
of acquiring money enough to purchase his distinction.
For an enriched and lately ennobled soapmaker, for instance, I would beg to suggest something like the following
as an appropriate coat of arms: Party per nebulte or and
vert.  In the sinister base a huge caldron, gules and azure.
At the honor point, an ass ramnpant-regardant, attired with
bouquet and ribbons of azure. In the dexter base, a small
patch of trefoil, having in its midst five peacocks in full
pride. There's a touch of Heraldry for you! Looks knowing, does it not?  But why display my treasured lore in




344                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
this ancient and profound science, when nine-tenths of my
democratic readers could not understand me if they would,
and the other tenth wouldn't if they could; and yet I feel
as much tickled by my self-concocted coat of arms as a child
with a new drum, and, like the noisy urchin who drums
everybody out of the house to convince them of the reality
of the possession, I am going to incur the danger of being
very absurd in order to show the genuineness of my pet
patent in Heraldry. I know it is very stupid to explain a
joke, and extremely pedantic to make a great display of
knowing a little; but, as I am temporarily discoursing of
asses and Englishmen, think I am excusable for indulging
in a little folly and considerable ostentation. So ye learned
and uninitiated, have at ye all: here goes. When we
Heralds speak of party per nebule or and vert, we intend to
convey the idea of the field of the escutcheon being divided
into two parts, by a wavy, irregular sort of line; one side
is colored, or gold; the other vert, or green.  The gold alludes to the riches of the new-made knight, and the green
to'the refreshing verdancy of every thing aristocratic.  The
sinister base is the left-hand corner of the shield; and the
mammoth caldron, which occupies the identical corner of
our coat of arms, is intended vaguely to intimate the origin
of our ennobled soapmaker.  Gules and azure mean red
and blue, the colors the big kettle was painted, indicative
of the fancy tendency of the manufacturer's notions as he
grew rich. The honor point is a position in the upper
portion of the dividing line.  The ass ranpant-regardant,
is an ass mounted on his hind legs and complacently looking back at his tail, which appendage, in the case of our
animal, is appropriately decorated with bouquet and blue
ribbons, although somewhat singed and drooping on account
of the recent exodus from the soap-boiler.  Of course this
principal figure on our escutcheon allegorically represents




HERALDRY.                   345
the plump citizen himself. The zig-zag lines above alluded
to form the ladder by which the lucky ass has climbed from
his humble beginning, through the medium of his wealth,
to his present exalted position. From this happy half-way
place, this highest point in the hedge, which excludes him
from the Elysian fields of his aristocratic neighbors on the
other side, he exultingly snuffs his coming triumphs, and
brays an indignant adieu to all recollections of the past. It
is scarcely necessary to explain that the patch of trefoil is
nothing more than our common clover, and that the five
peacocks in full pride are the five orders of nobility puffed
up to the utmost extent of pomposity. In short, this dexter
portion of our escutcheon is intended to intimate that our
supremely happy ass, being let down from his dizzy elevation, will soon roll in clover with his noble betters.
The enormous profits of soap-making render it a favorite
road to the peerage. Whether the English are the cleanest
or the dirtiest people in the world does not appear from
history, but certain it is that the consumption of soap in
that country has been very extraordinary since its being first
made in Bristol in 1524. Its lucrative advantages have
tempted kings to become monopolists in this'branch of
trade, and many a greasy manufacturer has snugly floated
down the sluggish but certain stream of soft soap into an
aristocratic harbor. Indeed there is no one person or class
to whom the nobility are so much indebted for increase as
the soap-makers, if we except Charles II. and the brewers.
Had the city fathers congratulated the merry monarch on
being the father'of the nobility, instead of the people, Rochester's reply would have been as true as it was witty,
when he said there was no doubt of his being the father of
a good many of them. For five of the twenty-two Dukes of
England owe their titles to being direct descendants of the
illegitimate children of Charles II. by his mistresses. But
15*




346                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
the soap-makers and brewers are the compounders of the
great staple commodities of consumption in Great Britain,
and therefore surpass even Charles himself in the number of
their additions to the peerage.
It is with the sincerest regret that I see a growing disposition in my countrymen to rig themselves out in this
cast-off tinsel finery in which the Heralds of England are
authorized to array Englishmen. It is with the deepest
mortification that I remember how eager Mr. Smith and Mr.
Jones are on arriving in England to rush to some antiquarian
bookstore, and, searching through the ponderous folios of
Heraldry for the numerous families of Smiths and Joneses,
to select that coat of arms which they think will look best
on a carriage door, and adopt it as their own.  I do not
mean to blame them for consulting the becoming in their
selections, more especially as they. have about as much right
to one crest as another. I am forced to confess that to see
an honest Republican tricked out in the Heraldic motley,
that aristocratic fools of Great Britain cut their antics in, is
to me eminently ridiculous and disgusting. I could join,
with heart and soul, the English press in lashing to threadbare confusion the absurdity of this harlequin masquerade.
It evinces a weakness of character unworthy of American
manhood.
Heraldry is absurd even in England; but still it is a
legalized absurdity. They have a formula of folly, and have
reduced nonsense to a science. The edicts of the Heralds'
College are as solemn and as serious as any other legal proceedings, and their decisions are as binding as those of the
courts of law. But here we have no such mummery. Coats
of arms are not legally established, and there is no institution to give them validity. Every Smith and every Jones
can select the style of arms most suited to their fancy from
the numerous families of their names in England:  Tlhe




HERALDRY.                    347
jackdaw in his borrowed plumes would be imposing compared with Smith strutting in those he has stolen.  Where
is the legal record in this country to determine which branch
of the Smiths he is descended from?  Even though such
records miglht originally have been carefully preserved, they
must have perished from ceasing to be useful, after the
Revolution had made such things contemptible. He would
have been a bold man to brave the storm  of derision that
must have assailed any individual boasting of being descended from a particular branch of the Smiths, because they
happened to be richer than the rest; such miserable vanity,
was opposed to the genius of the new-made Republic, and
was not to be tolerated. A man would scarcely have incurred the scorn of his countrymen for the solitary gratification of a coat of arms.  In abolishing titles our forefathers
rightly abolished their trashy appendages. But if coats of
arms be essential to our happiness and respectability, let us
revive titles, and establish a Heralds' College of our own, not
meanly pilfer gentility in pinches from England's scanty store.
The nice young man who is guilty of such petty larceny
should be smothered in a bandbox of musk, as the only punishment worthy of such a deed.
There is also an increasing anxiety, in our upper circles,
as to what a man does-and who his father was.  Provided
his pursuit and his parents be Ltonest,- the man should be
allowed to speak for himself. His possessing the manners
and cultivation of a gentleman, and the means to support
the appearance of one, should be a sufficient passport into
any society, if there be nothing disreputable connected with
him. The position of his father should no more be regarded
as an apology for the blackguardism of the son, than the
obscurity of that parent should interfere with his advancement. MSore honor is due the man who attains distinction
in defiance of the obstacles of " low birth and iron fortune.'




348                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
It is the man who ennobles the occupation, and not the occupation that ennobles the man.  It is worse than ridiculous
to exclude a iman of intellect and acquirements from the
higher circles of society because his father was a mechanic,
or because he has been one himself.  It is absurd to attempt
to determine inexorably what occupations shall or shall not
be admitted into society. Such things regulate themselves
as naturally as water seeks a level. Men are unwilling to
expose their own deficiencies by intruding into circles where
they must suffer from contrast.  And people are not going
to force themselves into assemblies where the coarseness of
their manners or dress would attract general observation.
They could not be coaxed into such positions, and it therefore becomes unnecessary to pass laws for their exclusion.
There is a decided inclination in many portions of our
country to attach undue importance to the " learned professions," without regard to the individual qualifications of
their members. And those professional gentlemen are most
inclined to presume upon this importance whose claims are
smallest. I have often felt amused by the airs of superiority
which very young lawyers arfd doctors are inclined to assume. Although both professions are somewhat too much
given to this sort of thing, it is especially observable in provincial "' members of the bar." The time required by most
men for familiarizing themselves with the technicalities and
legal obscurities with which lawyer-legislators have for
venal purposes loaded the statutes of every country, is not
greater than for learning successfully to cobble a worn pair
of shoes.  And yet there are ignoramuses preposterous
enough to arrogate to themselves the infallibility of so
many Daniels, merely because they have memorized the
leading precepts of Blackstone.  They seem to forget that
their great authority, invaluable in his way, does not necessarily impart a knowledge of English literature; that be



HERALDRY.                    349
cause they are able to nose out a flaw in an indictment and
cheat justice with her own tricks, is no absolute reason for
their having a discriminating taste in the fine arts —yet in
their eyes to be a lawyer is to be all that is desirable.
Ridiculous as such claims must appear to all sensible
people, they yield in folly to the weakness of those who are
deluded into the belief that there is more in them than
bombast; and who stubbornly persist in the belief that all
lawyers must be oracles, and that all other people must be
fools.
Young lawyers and doctors appear principally to base
their pretensions upon a contemptible piece of tin, eighteen
inches by six, which bears the curious inscription of "John
Smith, attorney-at-law," or " Dr. John Jones." Yet it is
really quite amazing, what a superstructure of arrogant assumption some of these learned gentlemen succeed in building upon so insignificant a foundation; and I am sorry to
find so decided a disposition in some of our Southwestern
States, to humor such absurd presumption. In the incomprehensible technicalities of the law, in the Latinized jargon
of prescriptions, in drug-mixing and pill-rolling, I am free
to acknowledge that the learned professions far excel the
less enlightened portion of their countrymen. But, by what
process tyw are presumed to monopolize all the cultivation
and intellect of the country, continues one of those mysteries which fashionable calculations only can solve. So long
as humanity is afflicted with such curses as lawsuits and
sore shins, lawyers and doctors must be considered eminently
useful members of society. But I am unwilling to concede
that a man must necessarily be destitute of all taste and
refinement, because he happens not to be familiar with the
operation of pounding a mortar, or writing a deed.
It is a fact, of which the legal profession may be justly
proud, that almost all of our greatest statesmen have conm



350                 ENGLISH ITEMS.
menced their career as lawyers.  I acknowledge that the
application to books, which is essential to their success as
lawyers, often excites that love of general reading, which
almost always produces an elegantly-cultivated mind. But,
because an aspiring upstart has in. his pocket a sheepskin
permission to nonsuit his clients, that he must, in consequence, have a refined taste and brilliant intellect, is much
more ridiculous in us to acknowledge, than for him to assert.
But this is one of the hallucinations peculiar to new states,
which time and more extended observation never fail to
correct. Attaching such importance to mere pursuits is too
much like the senseless respect of the English for birth.
Because a man is a lawyer or doctor, is no better reason for
his being an elegant and well-read gentleman, than for a
descendant of the Duke of Marlborough being a hero.
Our republican institutions demand that the vman, without regard to his father or his profession, should speak for
himself. If he be deficient in mind or manners, a distinguished father or a learned profession ought not to save him
from neglect; as humble birth and lowly pursuit ought not
to hamper genius.




,AN EXPLANATION.               351
AN EXPLANATION.
The Church and State are as closely connected in abuses
as in law.  After reading of one, a person naturally
looks for the other. I had most certainly intended to devote a considerable portion of my book to the corruptions
under the British Government, but, in approaching them, I
find I am unable to treat them with the attention they so
richly deserve, and therefore prefer to omit them altogether,
rather than to review them hastily. They are as numerous
as startling, and would require a small book to expose them.
But I cannot forego the hope of referring more fully at some
future time to these outrages perpetrated by the State. My
readers have a right, I confess, to expect some exposition
here, and nothing but the want of space prevents my doing
so. None but those intimately acquainted with their extent can realize the difficulty of compressing them into a
chapter.
THE END.








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