Chapter V: Part 5

The literary institutions at Boston are very numerous, and the number of booksellers’ shops is quite surprising. Upwards of 60,000 dollars are annually expended in public education, and perhaps an additional 150,000 may be the amount laid out in private establishments. There are fourteen infant schools in the city, and sixty primary schools affording the means of education to about 4000 children. The next in order are the grammar-schools and the Latin school, from which the boys are qualified to go to Cambridge (Harvard) university. Upon entering the infant schools, the first questions I chanced to hear were very national, characteristic, and amusing. “When goods are brought into a country, what do you call it?—Importing goods! and when goods are taken out of a country, what do you call it?—Exporting goods!” with a most joyous and tumultuous emphasis upon the distinguishing syllable of either answer. Cambridge, or Harvard University is about three miles from Boston, and situated within a large enclosure. The centre building, amongst several others detached, and standing apart, is of stone, and contains the lecture and dining rooms, and a library of 37,000 volumes, the best in America. I was shown nothing remarkable in it, excepting a valuable manuscript of the aphorisms of Hippocrates. I also saw the apartment containing the philosophical apparatus, and another in which there was a very good collection of minerals. I could not refrain from a hearty laugh at the contents of a paper which was wafered on the outer door of the library, and which I was malicious enough to copy whilst the librarian was absent in search of the keys. “Missing, the first and second volumes of the catalogue of books in the library of Harvard university! If the person who borrowed will return them immediately to their place on the table, he will oblige all those who have occasion to consult them, and no questions will be asked.”—(_Signed by the Librarian_).

The whole annual expenses of an undergraduate do not amount to more than 250 dollars; for this he is boarded, and instructed by the lectures of different professors on every subject, from divinity to “obstetrics” and medical jurisprudence. Christianity is respected and promoted in its broadest sense, not according to the tenets of any particular sect: the professor of divinity being obliged to declare his belief in the Scriptures, as the only perfect rule of faith and manners, and to promise that he will explain and open them to his pupils with integrity and faithfulness, according to the best light that God shall give him, &c.

Massachusetts is the only state of the Union in which a legislative jurisdiction is made for the support of religion. In every other, a person is at liberty to belong to any sect, or none if he pleases; but in this state the constitution compels every citizen to be a member of some religious order, or pay for the support of some teacher of religion, although in making the choice it allows him to follow the bent of his own inclinations.

With respect to the salaries of clergymen it may be mentioned, that in the large cities they vary from one to three thousand dollars, and from five hundred to a thousand in the more populous country parishes, exclusively of perquisites. Every clergyman is paid by his own congregation; so that his engagement with them is a kind of contract.

At Boston, I attended the Unitarian chapel, in order to hear the celebrated Dr. Channing, whose preaching was so popular during his residence in London a few years ago. His language was very fine, his accent purely English, and his manner more subdued than that of American preachers in general, who are usually too oratorical to be impressive. I was fortunate in hearing an exposition of his doctrine. He considered Christianity as only a kindred light to nature and reason; that the germs or seeds of the different excellences in the character of Christ were to be found in the bosom of every man, but that he alone possessed them in an eminent degree; and that the doctrine of the atonement had its foundation in the fears of guilty mankind, &c. &c. The extraordinary eloquence of the preacher did not however make me a convert to his tenets; yet it riveted my attention for more than an hour, and I came away with the impression that he was one of the very finest preachers I had ever heard; although I was not shaken in the conviction, that where there is no settled form of prayer, the principal part of the service must necessarily be the sermon, and that the sermon, if it be at all worth hearing, instead of containing religious admonition, is usually filled with a discussion on controverted points of doctrine.

The medical college at Boston is a department of Harvard university. There has been and still is, as in England, a difficulty in obtaining subjects for dissection in the United States. It is remedied by different laws in different states: the more usual provision being, that the bodies of persons who die in almshouses, or by the hands of the executioner, or who are unknown, shall be given up for that purpose.

When at Boston, I was favoured with the sight of an admirable picture just finished by Mr. Alston; the scene being taken from Mrs. Radcliffe’s novel of the Italian, where the assassin, who is obliged to commit murder at the instigation of the monk, is terrified by the fancied apparition of a bleeding hand. The monk, with a stronger intellect and more determined purpose, is raising the lamp that he may be enabled to see more clearly into the darkness of the vault. A better flame and a more murky atmosphere were never painted. The outline of the figures is extremely good, and the terror in the countenance of the murderer is finely contrasted with the cool, stern, and incredulous gaze of the monk.

Mr. Alston, who is the first, if not the only historical painter in America, has been employed for many years upon a very large picture, which is not to be seen by any one till finished. The subject is Belshazzar’s Feast; and the figures are as large as life. He intends to rest his reputation on the success of this painting, which will not see the light till he himself is perfectly satisfied with it. Many parts of it are said to have been repeatedly altered. On one occasion when it was threatened by fire, Mr. Alston requested a particular friend to assist him in its removal, but made him walk with his back towards the picture, that he might not catch a glimpse of it.

Lowell, the Manchester of America, is twenty-seven miles from Boston, and may be visited in the way from Burlington to Boston. Twelve years ago there was scarcely a house in the place; and only eight years ago it formed part of a farming town, which was thought singularly unproductive, even in the midst of the sterile and rocky region with which it is surrounded. At present it contains 8000 people, who are all more or less connected with the manufactories; and thirty-three large wheels, which are the movers of all the machinery in the place, are turned by means of canals supplied by the prodigious water-power contained in the rapid stream of the Merrimack river. There is no steam-power there, and consequently little or no smoke is visible, and every thing wears the appearance of comfort and cleanliness. At present there are 50,000 cotton-spindles in operation at Lowell, besides a satinet and carpet manufactory. A good English carpet weaver who understands his business, may earn a dollar a-day; but the calico weaving is chiefly performed by females, whose general neatness of appearance reflects the greatest credit upon themselves and their employers. No less than 40,000 additional spindles had been contracted for, and workmen were employed upon them in the large building called the machine-shop, which of itself is well worth the attention of the traveller. The vast buildings belonging to the Merrimack and Hamilton companies, are very conspicuous from the road by which the town is approached from Boston, particularly the latter, which are ranged along the side of the canal. As yet there is, I believe, no linen manufactory in the United States. Lowell contains the most extensive cotton-works; but as a manufacturing town merely, its population and business are perhaps trebled at Pittsburg on the Ohio. The scenery about Lowell is not deficient in interest and beauty, but it scarcely merits further description.

The prices of provisions at Boston for the last two or three years have been as follows: the best beef has sold at eight or ten cents (nearly five-pence halfpenny) the pound; mutton from six to eight cents: venison from ten to twenty-five cents; salmon from ten to twelve cents, and other fish from two to four cents. Butter from fourteen to sixteen cents; cheese fourteen and a half; coffee from thirteen to fourteen cents. Tea of course varies in price according to its quality; the best tea in all the larger cities selling from about one dollar and a quarter to two dollars a pound. Before the East India Company entered into the Canada tea trade, the colonies were supplied from the United States. But now the course of smuggling, which from the nature of the country it is morally impossible to prevent, is decidedly in favour of the Canadas. The duties on tea in the United States have been reduced nearly fifty per cent, since the 31st of December, 1831; but still the duties in the Canadas are very much lower; the best gunpowder tea, for instance, paying a duty of twenty-five cents, whilst in the Canadas it pays but four pence, and hyson tea paying a duty of eighteen cents in the United States, and but sixpence in the Canadas, &c. The Americans have petitioned for a further reduction in the duties; but it appears that none will be made as yet. If the American government would allow the tariff duties and the national debt to expire at the same time, it is not difficult to foresee, that as it is the amount of duties which governs the trade, the provinces would again be supplied from the United States, unless the British government should lower their duties also; and then if this were to be done, and the United States and the Canadas were on the same footing, as the East India Company are supposed to purchase their teas as cheaply as they can be purchased, no fear need be entertained by the Canadas that any advantage will be gained over the British trade with regard to the expenses of importation. And in addition to this, the rapid means of communication with the Upper Province, afforded by the Rideau canal, will, it is supposed, bid defiance to hurtful competition on the part of the Americans, when either the time or the cost of conveyance is considered. The course of the tea trade between the United States and the Canadas has been so much in favour of the British colonies, that the East India Company intend this year to send out four ships to Quebec and Halifax, instead of two as heretofore. Many of the old contraband traders have amassed large fortunes: the consumer, whether royalist or republican, having been by no means averse to render assistance where it was obviously for his own benefit to do so.

At Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, house rent is about fifteen per cent. cheaper than at New York, where the rent of a good house, situated, for instance, on a par with those in Gloucester-place in London, would amount to one thousand or one thousand two hundred dollars a year; but counting-houses and other houses taken for their convenient situations with reference to commercial purposes, would rent in either of the largest cities just mentioned, at a higher rate than in London.

The assessment or tax upon houses varies in the different cities, from five to eight dollars in the thousand.

At Boston, the wages of an in-door male servant are from ten to eighteen dollars a month; of females from one and a quarter to two dollars a week.

The expense of keeping a horse at livery in either of the larger cities is about ten dollars a month; but if groomed by a gentleman’s own servant it may be done for half that sum exclusively of the groom’s wages. Hay has been very abundant in Boston market for the last two or three years, and has sold at from ten to fifteen dollars the ton. Oats at forty-five to fifty cents the bushel, wholesale price.

In Boston a carriage and a pair of horses, including the coachman’s wages, &c., may be kept at an annual expense of three hundred and fifty dollars, about 80_l._

I shall ever feel grateful for the hospitable reception I met with at Boston. The society is excellent—the Bostonians more resembling the English than the inhabitants of any other city I had visited; and the bearing and appearance of some of them being so aristocratical that they have much ado to keep one another in countenance. The governor of Massachusetts is entitled “his excellency,” and the lieutenant-governor is addressed as “your honour.” The belles of Boston dress exceedingly well, better perhaps than any others in the Union; Philadelphia and Baltimore not excepted. At New York, as I have before remarked, the colours of their dresses are far too gaudy, and certainly ill-judged as to the manner and the time of wearing them.

I believe that there is in England a very mistaken idea of American society; as I have frequently been asked, what could not but appear to me the most unfair and absurd questions on this subject. With us the term “yankee” is generally one of ridicule, if not of disdain; but to apply it in that sense to all the members of society in the United States, is far too indiscriminate to be just. There is, as I have before remarked, an aristocracy in every city in the Union; and, perhaps, as many as four or five different sets or circles, notwithstanding their boasted equality of condition. As far as I have been able to judge from what I have seen and heard, the American ladies are certainly not (generally speaking) what in England would be called accomplished—in music and drawing, for instance: and still fewer of them are entitled to the appellation of “a blue;” but if exceedingly pretty features, elegant dress and manners, and agreeable and sprightly conversation are to have the same weight with us in forming an opinion of the state of society in America, that we should allow to them if speaking of society in England, I cannot but affirm that the refinement of first circles in the larger American cities is very far advanced, and much farther than it has credit for in England. Gentlemen, who are such from feeling, from habit, and from education, are to be met with in every part of the States; men who are quite distinct from the tobacco-chewing, guessing, calkilating, fixing, locating, expecting, and expectorating yankee, whose very twang, even in the merriest moments, has something in it that is absolutely provoking to the ear of an Englishman, and in whose presence one is often tempted to exclaim, “Be their constitution what it may, for heaven’s sake let us have something gentleman-like!”

I would here earnestly recommend every traveller in the States, never to leave any thing to be done by another which he can reasonably do for himself; and never to defer any arrangement which had better be made over night, in the expectation that all will go smoothly in the morning, unless of course he have with him a confidential European servant. With ordinary care there is not much fear of losing any thing by theft; but the Yankees are often as careless of the property of others, as they are careful of their own. Above all things, let him, as “Bob Short” has it, “be sure to keep his temper.” Anger is of not the slightest use, and a man may as well be out of humour with his mantelpiece, as with a Yankee. Independence is visible in the countenance both of the Englishman and the American: but in the one, it is stamped as it should be on the forehead; with the other, it is more often entwined in the curl of the nether lip. Never take the corner inside a coach on a rainy day, you’ll be wet to the skin: carefully avoid comparison between any thing that is American, and any thing that is European, particularly if it should be English. I have several times received a friendly caution from Americans themselves on this head. There are liberal minded men in the States who will talk like gentlemen on every subject; but I believe there is nothing unjust in the remark that jealousy of England and English arts, and English improvements, and English manufactures, may be reasonably classed as the most prominent of their national failings,—and that out of what may be designated as steam-boat acquaintance, there are not fifty men, from Maine to Louisiana, who can listen to such a comparison without biting their lips.

I left Boston, as I did Baltimore with regret, and proceeded to Providence, the capital of Rhode Island. In the way, I passed through Pawtucket, a very considerable manufacturing town on the banks of the Blackstone river.

Providence contains nearly 20,000 inhabitants, several manufactures, and some exceedingly good private houses. In the neighbourhood, by the assistance of a friend, I procured some excellent woodcock shooting. Upon my return, I chanced to be standing with my gun in my hand near the bar of the inn, when a very decent looking American cooly removed a cigar from his mouth, and most civilly addressed me with, “Well, stranger! how do you prosper in gunning?”

At Providence I embarked for New York in the splendid steam-boat, the President, passing by Newport, a large and populous place, much resorted to on account of the sea breeze, which is said to be cool and refreshing during the greatest heats of summer. The Providence river is one of the finest harbours in the Northern States, and the best station for ships of war; as a junction could be effected with a fleet from the Chesapeake in less than forty hours, with the same wind that would be adverse to a ship sailing from Boston harbour, and would perhaps prevent a junction in less than ten days: the next morning I found myself once more at New York—standing just where it did when I first left it; and after the lapse of a day, I embarked in a steam-boat to proceed up the North or Hudson’s river. The extreme rapidity with which we were hurried through the water soon carried me into the midst of the most superb river scenery I had yet beheld in America. I congratulate myself upon having deferred this excursion to the end of my tour instead of seeing it at first, and would recommend every traveller to do the same, because all that will be seen afterwards of the same description will probably lose by a comparison. The western bank soon presents a perpendicular of trap-rock, so denominated on account of its basaltic formations and general appearance, “the palisades,” continuing for nearly twenty miles along the river, and forming a natural wall or precipice, which varies from twenty feet to 500 feet in height, nor is the elevation sensibly diminished by the great width of the stream. On the east or opposite bank, at a distance of twenty-five miles from New York, my attention was excited by the beautiful situation of a small village embosomed in woods and still farther concealed by a projecting headland. Upon inquiry I found it was Tarrytown, where Major Andrè was made prisoner, and its appearance immediately became doubly interesting. Whether he was or was not a spy, cannot, I think, be determined without an answer to the inquiry, “suppose he had succeeded?”—but whether the cause of freedom would have thriven the worse for the generous dismissal of a noble-minded enemy, or whether the memory of Washington would have descended to posterity the less untarnished in consequence of such an action, are questions which are still less problematical. Major Andrè was executed at Tappan, on the other side of the river, standing on the boundary line between the states of New York and New Jersey.

The penitentiary at Sing Sing, is the next object of attraction; it is built by the convicts themselves, in the shape of a rectangle, 40 feet by 480. The system of solitary confinement adopted there, is the same as that of Auburn in the western part of the state of New York. The prisoners are confined separately, and are brought out to work together in the lime-stone quarries immediately adjoining the prison, but are never allowed to utter a syllable to each other. It would appear that under all circumstances this system is not more likely to prevent crime, than that which is pursued in Philadelphia; and on the other hand, with regard to the reformation of a prisoner in after life, I should humbly conceive the latter mode to be preferable; because as one prisoner is never seen by another, it is very clear he cannot be recognized, but can commence a new life without risking a sneer from a former companion in confinement.

I had lately enjoyed the agreeable society of two French gentlemen, who were travelling for the French government, with instructions to visit the different prisons in the United States in which the system of solitary confinement was adopted, with a view of ascertaining whether it was practicable in France. They informed me, that as far as they had seen, they were of opinion that the system could be adopted, were it not for the expense to be incurred in those alterations which would be necessary. A criminal condemned to imprisonment in France is turned in amongst a number of other persons, is fed during the period of his detention, and comes out of the prison just as he entered it.

We soon came in sight of Westpoint, at the commencement of “the Highlands,” and the most beautiful part of the river. This spot was selected in the year 1802, as the site of the military college of the United States. The buildings connected with the establishment are situated on a small plain, elevated about 160 feet above the surface of the river. The venerable ruins of Fort Portnam, are conspicuously perched upon an eminence 440 feet higher; but the ascent is still continued behind them. The whole of the ground belongs to government, the immediate vicinity of the college being within the jurisdiction of the courts of the United States.

The dress and appearance of the cadets is extremely neat; consisting of a slightly braided jacket, and trowsers of grey cloth: their number is about two hundred and sixty. The academic staff is composed of thirty-three officers, and gentlemen who act as professors and assistant professors. The cadets are instructed in almost every branch of science, but in no language, excepting French. They are publicly examined every year, in the presence of fifteen visiters, who are invited to attend, and have an allowance made them for their travelling expenses. Amongst other places, I visited the drawing academy, and another apartment, in which were several cadets studying fortification. When there, I could not avoid remarking that on one of the tables, by the side of the drawing utensils, lay a half demolished roll of tobacco. The disgusting habit of chewing tobacco is common in every part of America; even the men in the upper classes are not entirely free from it: but it surely might be discontinued (by express prohibition, if necessary) by the officers and cadets of the most gentlemanly establishment in the Union, and against which, laughable as it may appear, objections have been raised on account of the aristocratical ideas which the young men bring with them into society.

The annual expenses of each cadet, do not exceed three hundred and fifty dollars. He is examined at the expiration of four years: if he does not pass, he is allowed another year of grace. There are usually on the average about a hundred candidates for admission on the list, and about thirty are annually accepted: a preference being given to the sons of revolutionary officers, or of those who served in the last war. Out of the whole number admitted, I was informed that more than half of them leave the college from incapacity, disorderly behaviour, or other reasons, before their time has expired; and that about one-fourth of them usually take their leave within a year after the commencement of their studies. Every cadet must have attained the age of fourteen before admittance, and is originally intended for the army; but in the event of his not getting a commission, the education he has received, amidst the present and universal confusion of rail-roads and water-powers, will ensure him three dollars a day for his services as a civil engineer. The cadets form on parade every day at one hour before sunset, and have a very soldier-like appearance, occasionally practising the guns at a target on the opposite side of the river. The band, towards the maintenance of which each cadet contributes twenty-five cents a month, is said to be the best in the States. If a young man does not distinguish himself, he will probably remain in the ranks of the cadet corps during the four years of his probation; but if he display more than ordinary abilities, he may become a corporal after the first, and a sergeant after the second year; and may subsequently get his commission as second lieutenant in the army.

Kosciusko served in the American ranks during the war of Independence. His cenotaph is a very conspicuous object at Westpoint; and at a picturesque spot which he is said to have frequented, and is known by the name of Kosciusko’s Garden: a small fountain, regarded at this time with peculiar reverence, bubbles up through a plain marble slab, and trickles over the letters of his name, as if it wept its all to his memory.

Cannon are cast at the foundry on the east side of the river, nearly opposite to Westpoint. On that side also, a mile or two below, is the house which was occupied by Arnold when he was carrying on his traitorous correspondence with the British officers. The spot where he held his conference with Major Andrè, is overshadowed by a small grove of trees, easily distinguished by their superior height. I understood, at Westpoint, that General La Fayette during his visit in 1824, had said he was dining with Arnold, when he received from Major Andrè the letter which informed him of his capture, and that Arnold immediately made some excuse for leaving the table, and escaped, as is well known, by running down a very steep bank, and ordering some boatmen to row him to the British sloop of war which brought Major Andrè, and was then lying in the river awaiting his return.

The American musquet carries but eighteen balls to the pound. The charge of powder is also proportionably less. A general officer who served in the last war, informed me that having observed the shoulders of the British prisoners, he frequently found them black for a month after their capture; and not being satisfied with the smallness of the charge of powder which had been already diminished by an order from the American head-quarters, he himself, then a colonel, went round to every man in his regiment, previously to an engagement, to see that it was still further reduced according to his own order. The men were thus convinced of the necessity of reserving their fire, and of taking a steady aim, so that, perhaps, one shot in ten took effect, instead of one in sixty; the number usually allowed in European warfare. He also informed me, that during the obscurity of the night, and the confusion which took place at the battle of Lundy’s-lane, he observed a regiment forming on his flank, and being unable to discern immediately whether they were British or Americans, he jumped upon the top of a fence for a better view, and immediately became a mark for a volley of British musquetry, of which every shot passed over his head. This no doubt was partly caused by the old method of “making ready;” in consequence of which the musquet was frequently discharged before it was brought to the shoulder, from the perpendicular position in which it was held. The British troops suffered more severely than they otherwise would have done on account of the colour of their uniforms, the least portion of which so easily exposed them to the rifle of the back-woods man.

Soon after quitting Westpoint we passed the town of Newburg, leaving the Catskill mountains on our left. I did not visit the hotel at the top of them, as the season was too far advanced, and everybody had left it. The view from it is said to be, and must be, magnificent. We then arrived at Albany, which has been for thirty years the capital of the state of New York; it is a handsome and thriving city, containing about 20,000 inhabitants.

Every traveller should contrive to be at Albany on Sunday morning, in order that he may proceed to Shaker’s town, about eight miles distant, and attend the public worship of the sect. At Lebanon, in the same state, there is a larger establishment, but it is more out of the way. Their mode of worship is certainly the most extraordinary that is adopted in any Christian community. About fifty men and fifty women were arranged _en masse_ with their faces towards each other, and with an intervening space of about ten feet. The service commenced by an elder coming forward between them, and delivering a few words of exhortation. Several others followed his example at intervals during the service; one, more eloquent than the rest, who was descanting on the proper government of the passions and the abuse of talent, thought fit to illustrate his argument by a quotation from Gay’s fable of “The Grecian youth of talents rare.” Hymns were then sung by them in their places, each of them shaking the whole time. They then performed a regular dance, holding hands, advancing and retiring, to a most uproarious tune, sung by a few of them formed in a small circle, who gave the words and the tune to the others as they afterwards paraded in pairs around the room, singing very loudly the whole time—hopping heavily, first on one foot, then on the other—flapping their hands the whole time before them, with their elbows stuck into their sides, and looking for all the world like so many penguins in procession. It was not till the end of the service that they all fairly fell on their knees, and sung a hymn, as if they were asking pardon for their vagaries.

I really think I had never seen such a curious collection of heads and features: the chin and lower part of the face were generally very small, giving to some an appearance that was perfectly idiotic, whilst others displayed a more subdued modification of that wildness of gaze which might have distinguished the fanatic companions of Balfour o’ Burley: but there was scarcely one among them, either male or female, whose features were not remarkable on one account or other.

From Albany I proceeded to Schenectady, in the rail-road carriage, which whirled me forward with a rapidity very little inferior to that with which I had been carried between Liverpool and Manchester, but by no means so silently or so smoothly, as the rattling was very loud. Thence I went to Utica, a town that at present contains 10,000 inhabitants, but intends at some future period to be the capital of the state of New York. Its pretensions are founded on its present prosperity, arising from the Erie canal, which passes through it in its way from Albany to lake Erie, its central situation, and the gradual westward movement of the surplus population of the more eastern cities.

From Utica I visited the Trenton falls, fifteen miles distant. I was very much disappointed: there was not much water in them, and they appeared more like artificial cascades than a natural cataract. The trout fishing in the West Canada creek, on which they are situated, is, I conceive, the best recommendation for a visit to the Trenton falls. Possibly Niagara had spoiled me for every waterfall. It is, I think, the author of the “Diary of an Invalid,” who remarks that having seen St. Peter’s, he should be contented with his parish church ever afterwards. I thence proceeded to Saratoga, the Cheltenham of America: but the company which throng to it from all parts of the Union, being its only attraction, and the season being over, I passed through it without stopping there more than an hour. The vicinity of Ballston Springs, which are near it, are much prettier. The waters of both are saline and chalybeate at the same time. The guide books are so filled with accounts of the marches, counter marches, successes, distresses, and final surrender of General Burgoyne, that I make no apology for merely remarking, that he surrendered to the American General Gates at Schuylersville in the county of Saratoga on the 17th of October, 1777. From Saratoga, I proceeded to Lake George, passing by Glen’s falls, so admirably described in Mr. Cooper’s novel of the Last of the Mohicans. Unfortunately for me the steam-boat on the lake was laid up in ordinary, and I was obliged to content myself with a ride for a few miles along the banks. As far as I could judge, I thought the scenery equal to that of the finest of British lakes, generally, with the exception of Loch-Lomond. It is thirty-six miles long; but it has no where the majestic breadth of the famed Scottish lake. Its mountains are not so lofty as Ben Lomond, and it has not the weeping birch of the highlands of Scotland, or the arbutus of the lakes of Killarney; but it can boast of an unrivalled clearness of water, a most delicious perfume from the gum cistus (vulgo, sweet fern) which grows abundantly on its margin; and the autumnal foliage reflected on its surface is certainly far more beautiful and brilliant than any thing of the kind that Great Britain can display. Cultivation was to be seen in many parts; but there were no splendid country seats, and the majestic beauty of this lovely lake must be contented to remain destitute of those unrivalled ornaments, so long as democracy holds sway over the mountains that surround it.

At the head of the lake stands the village of Caldwell, and near it are the ruins of Fort George and Fort William. It would far exceed the limits of this work, were I to take notice of the numerous battles that have been fought during the last eighty years in the vicinity of Lake George; for an account of the massacre that took place after the surrender of Fort William-Henry, by Major Monroe, to the French troops under the command of the Marquis of Montcalm in 1757, I will again with pleasure refer you to the “Last of the Mohicans.”

I should mention that there is excellent bass fishing in the lake, and that all necessary information &c. may be obtained at the lake tavern at Caldwell. The bass is taken with a spinning minnow, and when hooked affords for a short time, even more sport than a salmon; but is much sooner exhausted.

Sandy Hill was my next destination. In my way, I passed over the ground where General Burgoyne surrendered, and in a few hours again entered a steam-boat, at Albany, with the intention of returning, for the last time, to New York.

Before I went to America, I had no idea in how short a time a meal could be dispatched; but to see “bolting” in perfection, it is necessary to go on board an Albany steam-boat. The cabin is cleared as much as possible, the breakfast is laid, and the free negro stewards are placed as guards at the top of the stair-case, to prevent any gentleman from walking in before the bell rings. As the hour draws near, conversation is gradually suspended, and the company look as if they were all thinking of the same subject. Groups of lank thin-jawed personages may be seen “progressing” towards the door, and “locating” themselves around it, in expectation of the approaching rush, listening to the repeated assurances of the black stewards within, that no gentleman can by any possibility be admitted before the time. At length the bell rings, and the negro guards escape as they can; if they are not brisk in their motions, they stand a chance of being sent headlong down stairs, or jammed in between the wall and the opened doors. In less than a quarter of a minute, 150 or 200 persons have seated themselves at table, and an excellent breakfast of tea, coffee, eggs, beefsteaks, hot rolls, corn cakes, salted mackerel, mush, molasses, &c. is demolished in an incredibly short space of time. The crowd then slowly re-ascends the staircase—and three-fourths of them are quite surprised that they should be afflicted with dyspepsia! The music which usually accompanied the feasts of the ancients, will never be revived by the Americans who are more likely to exclaim in the beautiful language of Euripides,

Σκαιοὺς δε λεγων, κοὺδὲν τι σοφοὺς,
Τοὺς προσθε βροτους, ουκ ἄν ἁμάρτοις,
Οἵτινες ὕμνους επὶ μὲν θαλίαις,
Επὶ τ’ εἰλαπίναις, καὶ παρὰ δείπνοις
Εὕροντο, βίου τερπνὰς ακοάς.

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ἵνα δ εὔδειπνοι
Δαῖτες, τι μάτην τείνουσι βοάν
Τὸ παρὸν γαρ ἔχει τέρψιν ὰφ’ αυτοῦ
Δαιτὸς πλήρωμα βροτοῖσιν.

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Whilst I remained at New York, I employed my time in visiting the dock-yard, the race-ground on Long Island, and other places which I had left unseen. The race-ground is inclosed with a high paling, and although well kept, is not on so large a scale as might be expected.

The Americans believed that their horse, Eclipse, was faster than his celebrated English ancestor, till a paper appeared in their Sporting Magazine, proving that had they run together, their horse, which is undoubtedly a very good one, particularly up hill, would have been thoroughly beaten. They have a mare, named, I believe, Arietta, which is said to be exceedingly fast for a mile, and is coming to England, to try her speed at Newmarket.

The Americans boast that they are able to raise an army of cavalry at a moment’s notice; and they refer you to the backwoods, and tell you that a boy can ride almost as soon as he can walk. This is true enough of their riding to plough, or to church, or along the road; but I do not remember to have seen a horse take a leap in the United States but once,—and he had no rider on his back. It is very rarely that an American is seen with a good seat on horseback. I should say, generally, that the Americans were bad riders, excepting the New Yorkers,—and they are Americans. I think _they_ are the worst I ever saw. They have neither a military seat nor a fox-hunting seat, nor a Turkish seat, nor even what Geoffrey Gambado would term “the mistaken notion;” but they ride up and down the Broadway with the toe almost invariably very much below the heel; and the back and shoulders, like the “genteel and agreeable” of the same author, of course inclined forward: at the same time it must be confessed, that as they have neither cavalry nor fox-hunting, it is not surprising that they cannot ride.

I witnessed an extraordinary exhibition, purporting to be a burlesque upon the militia system, and got up with no inconsiderable share of humour. A person on horseback, masked, in the uniform of Napoleon, wearing a small figure of him on either shoulder, and carrying an enormous tin sword, headed a band of ragamuffins, habited as their wit and ingenuity dictated to them. Pasteboard, pumpkins, spits, and hay-bands, with a hundred other things of the same kind, being put in requisition to aid the spirit of buffoonery, and assist in ridiculing the militia. The only motto among the many that was good and pointed, was “soldiers in peace, citizens in war.” But the whole scene, although acted on a less serious occasion, was worthy the days of Anacharsis Klootz.

I cannot forbear to relate an instance of that mock modesty of which the Americans are sometimes accused. I was at a ball, and was guilty of joining in a quadrille. When the time for the “dos a dos” arrived, I advanced to perform that part of the figure in the same manner as I should have done at a ball in England; but I found that the lady, who was dancing opposite to me, receded instead of coming forward, and my movement had attracted considerable attention. I felt that I had committed some error, and my partner, who had travelled a great deal in Europe and had often danced quadrilles in France and England, kindly hinted to me, with a slight archness of smile, that I had made a mistake.—“We do not dance the dos a dos here; we have left off that part of the figure!”

Two circumstances contributed to render my voyage home agreeable: one was, that I sailed in the splendid new ship the “North America;” the other, that she was commanded by Captain Macy. As the steam-boat slowly towed us from the wharf, I felt gratified and grateful for the kindness I had met with in America; and I unhesitatingly affirm, that if an Englishman be treated otherwise it must be his own fault. I looked at the retiring city: I thought the houses were not so very red, after all; and I tried to persuade myself that the bay of New York was as beautiful as the bay of Naples: but I found that I could not show my gratitude at the expense of what appeared to me to be the truth; namely, that it is and must ever remain very far inferior. Partiality is apt to elicit some very contrary opinions. The New Yorkers think their bay equal in beauty to the bay of Naples: when the Dutch had possession of the country, they called it the New Netherlands. But these are trifles, and as such I hope they are pardonable.

I advise you to go to America: at this period there is no country equally interesting, nor one so likely to remain so, till it falls to pieces, probably within less than half a century, by its own weight. If you are an ultra-tory you will, perhaps, receive a lesson that may reduce you to reason; if you are a radical, and in your senses, as an Englishman and a gentleman, you are certain of changing your opinions before you return; and you may prepare yourself accordingly. You will be gratified by visiting a land, that come what will, must ever remain a land of liberty, which the Saxon blood alone is capable of enjoying. So little, it may be remarked, do the French understand the term, that it is only since the last revolution that they have acquired the “droit de l’initiatif,” or the right by which any member of the chamber of deputies can by himself bring in a bill or “projet de loi,” whenever he pleases; a right which the members of the house of commons in England may be said to have enjoyed for two centuries. Previously to the late changes in France, it was necessary that a number of members who wished to introduce any measure into the chamber, should petition the king for leave to do so; otherwise, as is well known, it was brought forward by the minister alone. You will be gratified by seeing so much of what may be termed the aristocracy of nature in the primæval forests, the vast lakes and majestic rivers of North America; and still more so by having visited a land where man is supposed to be more his own master than in any other civilised part of the world, and where his energy meets with co-operation in the natural resources of the country, and commands success at the hands of his fellow men. You will then be able to form an opinion whether the state of society be more or less enviable than that to which you have been accustomed; whether the fine arts are more likely to flourish; whether men in their public or private characters as husbands, as fathers, as brothers, as gentlemen, are better, more honest, or more amiable than among yourselves; or whether the government under which they live is more calculated for the encouragement of true religion, the shelter of virtue, the enjoyment of life and liberty; or, if fair allowance be made for the advantages incidental to a new country, whether it is better adapted for the advancement of national prosperity, than the institutions of your native land.—Go to America, canvass the pretensions of the Americans, and then judge for yourself.

THE END.

Manning and Co., Printers,
4, London House Yard, St. Paul’s.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.

The city of Pittsburgh is spelled as Pittsburg in some instances. This inconsistency was left intact.

Inconsistent hyphenations have been left as is.

Page 48. “antehamber” replaced by “antechamber”.
Page 64. “distincts pecies” replaced by “distinct species”.
Page 123. “Nigara river” replaced by “Niagara river”.
Page 210. “oxtyx virginianus” replaced by “ortyx virginianus”.
Page 215. “St Lawrence” replaced by “St. Lawrence”.
Page 218. “St Lawrence” replaced by “St. Lawrence”.
Page 259. “Catshill mountains” replaced by “Catskill mountains”.
Page 275. “privmæval” replaced by “primæval”.