,-1...   I-1
<~~;~~~ fi 
BY THE
MOTHER OF MARY LUNI)IE DUNCAN.
' That great country, the United States. "-Sir Robert Peel in the  ieuse as  Commen.
" Ma   Great Britain and the United States move  land ill hattl as brethren  ill tha
regener ation of the   c Dl."E  D. SmDh,  D, S ew Yehk.
NEW YORK:
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,
No.'285 BROADWAY.
1852.
[
i 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 18.52, by
ROBERT CARTER &; ROTIIERS,
In the Clerkl's Olice of the Soit,hero District of New  York.
T, B. SMITH, STEREOTYPER,
216 Willia.   Street, New York.
i
i
I
I
R. CRAIGHEAD,  PRINTER,
53 Vesey Street. 
ABOUT thirty years ago, articles appeared  "Quarterly"'
in a London Review, which filled the surrounding  atmosphere with their evil odors, and whose venom was
unhappily not spent when it had crossed three thousand
miles of " blue water," so that they excited swellings
and high disdain as they spread in the United States.
Yet it is probable all the articles dropped from one pen,
filled with gall. The pen, one may suppose, of some
ancient Tory, whose ancestors had suffered in} the War
of Independence, or whose political creed admitted not
of safety except in feudality and hereditary government,
and who therefore was embittered by hearing of prosperity beyond it.
These splenetic articles originated or prolonged animnosities in their day, though they probably emanated
from the pen of a person sufficiently insignificant. That
day is past.  But, if injurious impressions were made by
one insignificant character, it is possible that contrary
Il
I
!
I
I
i
I
i
I
,.
I'2  t f a t t
I
i 
vi         PREFACE.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
impressions may be produced by another. It was a little
mouse, according to Esop, that gnawed the net which
entangled the lion, and set the forest monarch free.
The mouse would have missed a fine opportunity, had
it at the moment refused to gnaw. It possessed industry and influence, and used them. Every one is pos
sessed of some degree of influence; if it be met by energy, and leisure to put it forth, it must not lie inactive,
though it be but small.
The unpretending traces of what fell under every day
experience, here offered to the public, come from one
who visited America with cordial feeling and ardent expectation, and was not disappointed. Of course many
subjects, such as literature and politics, run in parallel
lines with such as are treated here. But they have been
plentifully delineated by others, and this affords a plea
for their entire omission, which the incompetence of the
writer willingly embraces, while religious and social habits fall naturally within the range of her remark.
The diversities between America and Great Britain
are only sufficient to add the raciness of novelty to the
observer's enjoyment. America is the country in which
to form rapid and cordial acquaintances, and from which
to carry friendships against whose continuance even the
last enemy has no power.  Character comes forth natu
I
I
I
i
I
I
vi
PREFACE. 
rally there, and is therefore piquarnte and charming.
Heart flows out fearlessly, and is therefore ardent.
A nation so prosperous does not need, or condescend
to wish for adulation.  It is far above flattery-but it
demands justice, and in several cases has failed to obtain
it from English tourists.
The light pages which follow, design to be just, candid, and kind-not " hinting a fault, and hesitating a dislike," but admiring and blaming with equal simplicity.
Every one admits that the present condition of things
on the earth is not what it ought to be, either as it respects nations or individuals. None of my readers would
say they are perfect, or that their country is perfect.
We are, or ought to be, trying to improve.  If I have,
in some one or, two painful instances, been obliged to
allude to that which is evil, and ought to be changed, I
say no more than what millions of the citizens of the
" freest country in the world" think.  If my small meed
of approbation were of any value, it would be reduced
to worthlessness by the absence of sincerity, in reference
to circumstances which I must mourn over or disapprove, Let me be true-or nothing!
The time is on the wing, which will reduce all nations,
with all their various governments, into one vast monarchy. Whatever we are under now, whether a despot
i
l
I
I
t
I
l
I
I
JI
I
I
vii
rREFACE. 
F
viii                  PREFACE.
ism, a monarchy, or a republic, then those who have accepted the covenant of peace, will find themselves under
the gracious dominion of Him on whose head are many
crowns. His throne is the holy hill of Zion. Under
His government there are neither bond nor free, for all
a,re His willing subjects-freemen whom His truth hath
made free. Those who are given to Him out of the
world, will all be subjects in the KINGDOM THAT ENDURETH FOREVER.
EDINBURGH, February, 1852.
-,   -        I- I......
i
I 
( uutrn to.
PAGE 
INTR-,ODUCTORY....................................
THE CHILDREN...................................
THIE COMM.ON SCHOOLS AND FREE ACADEMY..........
SABBATH SCHOOLIS................................
" BOYS' MEETING................................
ADOPTED CIHILDREN...............................
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS..............................
THE CHURCHES...................................
THE PRAYER VMEETING............................
THE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.......................
",A BEE.......................................
THE WEDDING...................................
ThE CITIES......................................
HOTELS AND BOARDING HOUSES.....................
THE DOMESTICS...................................
THE FUNERALS....................................
THEir CEMETERIES AND FIREMEN.....................
THiE COLORED RACE..............................
THE COLONIZATION SOCIETY........................
THE PRISONS.....................................
JUVENILE DELINQUENTS AND BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES....
THE ISLANDS....................................
DEAF AND BLIND.................................
TH'E WIDow.....................................
VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.......................
RAILWAYS.......................................
A HILL COUNTRY....................................
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS............................
NIAGARA.........................................2
i
11
25    -
43
65
75......
92
103
120
137
148
159
164
177
194
209
230
246
253
272
283
298'
320
335*..
850"~"
360
377
384
397..
423 
I 
THE English traveller who, having crossed the
Channel, steps on shore at Calais or Ostend, finds
himself much more decidedly from home and removed to a foreign land, than he who, having crossed
the ocean, lands at New York. The identity of
language, though not the only reason, is the most
powerful cause of this. Sensible people, accustomed
to explain themselves with perspicuity, find themselves when using a foreign language reduced to an
incapacity, childish in appearance, and painful because of its uncertainty.
A humorist, describing his landing in France, said
the ducks in the hen-yard were the only things he
was sure he understood, for they quacked in good
broad Scotchl  The language, then, is a great point of affinity,
and a wonderful convenience.  But there are a thousand other points which give a home-feeling to the
British visitant of the United States.  Some are
i
i
3 I~ttB~ u rtnrg.~
I,..,An_= 
12               INTRODUCTORY.
obvious and striking, and some not the less attracting, because they are amiong the finer chords which
elude the eye of the careless observer.
Man, in whatever climate he dwells, and under
whatever modifications of habit, progress, and institution he is met, still identifies himself with his race,
and claims to have sprung from the same Creator's
hand.  Born in what zone soever, he has a mind
which will do some thinking work, and will have its
conjectures about the future prospects of the immortal part that he feels stir within him.  HIis objeet of fear or worship may be some monster of terror, or some pleasant myth.   It matters not which,
for either indicates the presence of a spiritual part,
which seeks a spirit to have sprung from, to trust
in, to return to, when the struggle of life shall be
ended.
When man is enriched by divine revelation, and
gives himself to its guidance, he has found a compass to steer by; he falls into the track that leads
him safely and uniformly, and in it he meets with
fellow-travellers.  Introduce the light of revelation,
and his vain fancies fall out of view; philosophical
and painful conjecture folds its weary wing, and he
reposes on that which commends itself to his mind
as common sense, and to his heart as simple truth.
i
s
k
I 
INTRODUCTORY.                   13
Christianity is the electric chain which unites coinmnunities, whatever be their external diversities, and,
however their mere temporal advantages may be opposed, it combines their highest interest.  It produces uniformity of mnotive, of sentiment, and action.  It is the parent of peace.
This is the bond which to the British Christian
renders America a second native land. Whatever
he has found of holy aimn and zealous effort to attach
him to his hone, he will find there, in a form slightly varied, but imbued with the same spirit,-and
thus he combines safety and improvement with
travel, he finds sympathy with strangers, and enjoys
confiding trust in the midst of all the gratifications
arising from novelty.
Diversity of elime, complexion, manners, and even
of tongue, cannot separate, if the great pulses of the
heart beat in unison. A Welsh missionary from
Ohio, on the platform at the Tabernacle in New
York, mentioned a Welsh woman who walked often
six miles to worship, though she did not understand
English.  The reason she gave for this was, that the
name of Jesus Christ often occurred in the service,
and the sound of it warmed her heart. So, people
from all lands, who k/now Hif., are united in heart,
under that name which is above every name.
i 
INTRODUCTORY.
It would be a dull world, and not much worth exploring, were there no national and peculiar characteristics, and he is a dull traveller who only admires
and approves in proportion as things resemble his
home. The organ of comparison is useful when in
enlarged and generous exercise, but is poor and contemptible when it leads us only to depreciate and
censure.   And  patriotism, that generous instinct
productive of a happy preference for, and contentment in, our own land, dwindles into narrow-minded
selfishness if it leads us to regard the success and
prosperity of other countries with a jealous eye, or
to desire to depreciate the excellencies which they
possess. We may each hold our preference for our
own country with a grain of allowance, and be willing that each should think
"The land of his birth
The loveliest land on the face of the earth,"
if he only willingly discerns the loveliness of other
lands. The worn-out colored man crying,
"But now I'm old and feeble too,
I cannot work any more,
O carry me back to old Virginia, to old Virginia's shore,"
though singing of a place of bondage, yet loves the
home of his childhood, and is exercising the same
I
I
I
I
I
14 
INTRODUCTORY.                    15
sentimnent which swelled the heart of Sir Walter
Scott, when in decrepitude and infirmity he almost
flung himself out of the carriage on coming within
sight of Abbotsford.   And again, the same sentiment, multiplied a thousacnd-fold, burst from  the
hearts and lips of the German  army, returning
weary and worn from Bonaparte's wars, when, oil
reaching the mountain top, they rent the air with
one long shout, "Am Rhein! am Rhein!"  Let us
love our countries, but let us also love our friends;
let us be faithful patriots, but also enlarged citizens
of the world.   Let  us honor worth wherever it
exists, and delight to recognize true sympathies
wherever we can find them.  Those petty criticisms
of manners and of "notions," which are no more
dignified than the squabbles for precedence of rival
Misses at a ball-how unworthy are they of two
great nations who know that each, after their own
model, are free-how lowering to men who have a
higher than human tribunal to stand before and a
loftier object than man-pleasing to aim at!
iMluch hlas been said and written of the United
States by English men and women, and unhlappily,
there has been more displeasure excited, and temper
shown on both sides, than the occasion warranted.
Diedrich Knickerbocker has qluizzed, and Cooper
I'
I
i
I
i
i
lI
i 
I 
16
has censured and criticized, and  M3rs. Kirkland has
described, each saying  according  to their fancy,
things more keen than most of what has been said
by English tour'ists-and their countrymen have
borne it well, and confessed, when called upon, the
truth of their censures.  But let a remark much
less punlgent drop fromn an English pen, and one
would think. that the ghosts of the Stamp Act,
the Tax on Tea, and all the long horrors of a war
amongst brethren were risen up to revive ambition,
wrath, jealousy, and every evil thing which wisdom,
brotherly love, and Christian charity, would wish to
plunge deep into the caves of the ocean, which divides and yet unites us. It has been said of flattery, that it is so pleasant, that if it be but administered warily, the wisest man living could bear it laid
on in shovels-full, and such is self-complacency or
love of approbation in many, that probably there is
truth in the saying.  But in the abstract each person of common sense and common observation will
admit that. as no individual, so also no nation is
faultless.  And it does not become a great nation
like th'e United States, possessing much to rejoice
in, and much to be thankful for, to condescend to
covet flattery, or to yield to irritation at the statements of passing observers. Part of them haply
I
I
I
i
i
I  H
INTROI) U CTO-RY. 
INTRODUCTORY.
mistakes, while some of them are undoubtedly true.
Moreover, in such a wide country, society is made
up of numerous circles, which as little resemble
each other as do the people of different countries.
Therefore, a description of one circle may appear
over-colored or absolutely false to another, but be
quite true nevertheless. What points of assimilation would be found between the accomplished judge
on the bench or the divine in his study, and the man
of suddenly-found fortune working off his exuberant
spirits by trotting fifteen miles an hour up the Third
Avenue, and calling to his peers (though mayhap
not his acquaintances) as he scours past them, " Go
ahead, boys! go ahead!"  The judge or the divine
might suppose this an exaggeration, as their pursuits keep them apart from such lively youths-and
yet they are their townsmen.
If a " lady," whose associates have been strolling
players or backwoods people in a very raw settlement, tells all the vulgarities she met with in such
society, why should it ruffle the plumes of the dovelike dwellers among persons of refined taste in a
civilized state?  T    he same " lady" if it suited her
to enter into minutima about home, could probably
tell           you similar tales —or if a gentleman takes it
int        o   his head to imagine that his readers will be in
2
i
17 
INTRODUCTORY.
terested in his descriptions of the use of tobacco,
and its disgusting consequences in such rough conveyances as canal boats, or amid such unpolished
members as are some of the congressional representatives from the newly settled and " far, far
west," why let him do it if it be true.-Perhaps
were he himself engaged in clearing an untrodden
forest, or draining an impracticable swamp, or
dwelling on a misty stream where fever and ague
prevail, he also might find a use in departing from
his tobacco horrors, and instead of exciting displeasure, his hints might be improved into a more
cleanly use of the preventative.  He might set up
for a pattern tobacco eater, and teach the world.
It is not for me to question the reality of such descriptions.  The things happen as all admit they
do, but, as they did not happen in my circle, I
never saw them.
A captain bold being carried to a missionary
meeting, came away laughing to see the Yorkshire
folks so "humbugged," for he had been eighteen
years in India, and had never heard of, much less
seen, a missionary. The man was honest in his statement. There are missionaries in India nevertheless!
Looking back on the ancestry of the United
States, and considering brother Jonathan as a well
I
18 
INTRODUCTORY.
grown and thriving youth, who knows his own affairs, and does not feel any want of paternal government, one understands that a degree of jealousy and
displeasure may arise against criticisms, which prevents their being profited by, even where they are
known to be just. Yet many a brother has been
cured of biting his nails, and many a sister has
been broken of some awkward trick by a little goodnatured bantering at the family fireside; and if
Jonathan could cure John of his self-sufficient
pride, and John could subdue in Jonathan his love
of boasting, each would have done the other good
service.   We  are all of one blood, Saxon to the
core, and perhaps it is because we resemble each
other so nearly that we stand each other's criticisms
so ill.  What a much better game have we discovered to play at when Jonathan is exerting all his
ingenuity to pick John's cunning lock while the
Bank of England is ordering transatlantic locks for
his strong box, or when the English Yacht and the
American Clipper are speeding together through
the waves, and the one learning from the other how
to form his keel, so as to cut them more deftly.
It is in our power to help and to teach each
other in a thousand ways, were we but in the vein
for it-and why should we not be?  I lay no great
19 
INTRODUCTORY.
emphasis on the limited cousinship arising from the
old story of the three brothers that came all over
in one ship, and how three came from Shropshire
and settled in one state, and three from Warwickshire and settled in another, &c., &c.  That is a
relationship whose footprints are presently lost sight
of amid the sands of time-but there are holier and
nobler points of affinity, which, feel as we may upon
it, proclaim us brethren. Are there not the institutions and aspirations of freemen? Are there not
the mutual efforts of industrious and ingenious
men i Have we not the raw material in the one
country, and the manufactures in the other?  Are
there not the genial and balmy outgoings of hospitable men? Are there not the skilful and untiring
exertions  of benevolent and philanthropic  men?
Are there not the contritions, the faith, the hope,
and the walk of Christian men, that unite the bravest and the best of both our countries proclaiming
us brethren, at present, and preparing the way to
unions in the world, that is wide enough, wise
enough, and holy enough to make a final home for
us all, and where-if we cannot before-we shall
see and feel distinctly that "all we are brethren?"
The heart of America at this very juncture beats
in unison with the heart of England, in regard to
20
I 
INTRODUCTORY.
the European struggle for liberty; and the hand of
America is stretc(hed across the Atlantic in defiance
of the oppressors, and in aid of the oppressed.
Have we not been gladdened to see the exile and
the refugee find a free home in the United States?
and is it not a generous rivalship that has been
practised by both countries in seeking who first
should welcome and sustain Kossuth, the hero, who
if he bring with him the heart and hopes of Hlungary, meets where he comes the heart and hopes of
freemen?-Sacred is the deposit of freedom, Great
Britain and the United States have that deposit in
charge for the relief of a despot-ridden world.
They must not, they dare not dissipate their influence in petty rivalries and family quarrels. They
are bound to unite to make its weight felt in the
kingdoms of oppression and imprisonment.
More than thirty years have elapsed, with their
clouds and sunshine since the first American whose
society we had an opportunity of cultivating, strayed
in upon us. His fine metaphysical head, his rich
conversational powers, the freshness and piquancy
of his opinions, the novelty of his information-for
wars and stormy seas alike rendered the United
States at that period a far country to us-and
above all his Christian principle, formed a whole
I
21 
INTRODUCTORY.
which attracted and charmed us. I have not forgotten the tears which flowed, when this unlookedfor stranger poured out at our evening worship confessions. petitions, and gratitudes exactly our own,
and how from that hour the wide Atlantic seemed
bridged for us by sympathies which the world could
not interfere with.
After him came another and another, each new
guest in the course of years introducing his friend,
the characters of all in degree fraught with those
principles which prepare the mind for exalted intercourse, based on plans and hopes which will live
when the world and its life are extinct.
Our earliest specimens of men from the other
hemisphere were not merchants, but pastors exhausted by their labors in pursuit of health and
relaxation, and students in pursuit of knowledge.
And noble specimens they were of keen investigation, lively perception of novelty, acute dissection
of truth, and bold assertion of Christian principle,
as the rule and guide of their motives. It is not to
be wondered at that such associates should engage
and enliven the mind, and that after long years of
distant contemplation, an opportunity of seeing
them at home should be embraced with willingness.
Neither is it surprising, that such being the char
i
i
22 
INTRODUCTORY.                    23
acter of our first transatlantic acquaintances, their
successors should have been like-minded, or that
when these welcome visits were at last returned,
they should have opened for the guest whom-they so
generously cherished, a vein of ore precious and
rich in its rewards to the feeble and unworthy hand
that worked it.
Others have described the festivities, the political
institutions, the energetic mercantile pursuits of the
Americans. Perhaps a path yet scarcely trodden
may furnish some points of interest, from one who
numbered amongst her early and valued friends,
J. M. Mason, DI).D., and his young friend Bruen,
who acted as the keys to open Society's gate for
her.   One whose attention has been directed as
much to the Christianity and philanthropic exertions of the people as to their noble rivers and rich
plains, and as much to the lively and influential
Christian sentiments of their women, as to their domestic virtues and personal loveliness.
It is to the Christian and social habits of this interesting people that access has been chiefly afforded, and with them chiefly that sympathies have been
exchanged. Abhorring the vulgar soul that uses
the hospitalities of a country to go homue and criticize domestic habits, as much  as the treacherous,
__L
I
I 
INTRODUCTORY.
seeming reserve, which points its tale so as to mark
infallibly the parties alluded to, while it affects to
withhold the nanmes, mPy remarks and details are sincere and affectionate as are my feelings; accompanied by that respectful reserve which becomes a
friend, pledged as much by grateful regard as by
sympathy to feel and act as becomes brotherly love.
A passage in the conclusion of Dickens' "American Notes," one of the best in the book, is quoted
verbatim as the best expression of my own sentiments, only adding to " cultivation and refinement"
a more essential quality which he has omitted-I
mean Christian principle
" The Americans are by nature frank, brave, cordial, hospitable, and affectionate-cultivation and refinement seem but to enhance their warmth of heart
and ardent enthusiasm, and it is the possession of
these latter qualities in a most remarkable degree
which renders an educated American one of the
most endearing and most generous of friends. I
never was so won upon as by this class; never yielded up my full confidence and esteem so readily and
so pleasurably as to them; never can make again in
half a year so many friends, for whom I seem to
entertain the regard of half a life."*
*Dickens' Ame'icai Notes, vol. i. p. 288.
i
i
24 
Our ancestors are the root of the tree, our aged
the trunk, our youths the branches, and our children
the coronal of leaves and blossoms-and who that
anticipates the future prosperity of a country can
fail to cast a lively observation on the blossoms, and
to watch the spring-time? Who that has experienced the parental instincts, which are interwoven
with the very life of the heart; who that has seen children grow out of infancy into manhood, and out of
ignorance into maturing wisdom, can dwell in a
country and be admitted into its domestic scenes,
without casting an earnest eye over the little ones,
the light of the dwelling, the source of its freshest
interest?
English children in the presence of strangers are
reserved and shy. They feel that the nursery and
school-room are their proper spheres of action, and
that they are only brought out at times, as it were,
to be shown to particular friends.
......
ti t tljitrtu. 
THE CHILDREN.
Scotch children are bashful and awkward, and as
if constitution or climate had not done enough for
them in that respect, their parents too often repress
them as if they were ashamed of therm, or afraid of
some outburst of ill-manners, when the poor things
are behaving their very best. This partly arises
from the reserve of the mothers, who, with hearts
flowing with affection, press it down and cover it up,
as if they feared it might be suspected by a stranger.
Most unlike to these is the sentiment of the American, both parent and child. The little citizen
seems to feel at a surprisingly early age, that he has
a part to act on the stage of the world, and is willing enough to act a little before his time. And the
parents, full of frank, simple emotion, bring their
little treasure under notice, and ask you, with pride
and joy, "Don't you think my Charley is a brave
little fellow?" or, "Did you ever see such a quick
eye as my Austin's?" or, "Is she not a pretty little
darling?" or, "Did you ever see such a cunning little
thing?"  (The word cunning, according to some
old English use of it, meaning in this application
nothing like sly, but neat, tidy, or expert-looking.)
If the children are not at home, you will be shown
their pictures, or told their histories,-or if the arrow of death has stricken any of them, the stroke,
26 
THE CHILDREN.
the manner of it, how it was borne, and how the
bereaved were sustained under it, will be all poured
out with a confiding certainty of your sympathy that
is most winning and touching.   How often have I
envied that self-command which enables them to relate such events with unshaken voice, and to dwell
on deep sorrows without tears.   And  how often
have I with shame contrasted my own long past concealment, nay, almost negation of powerful sentiment, with this its beautiful outflows.
The little ones seem to partake from the first of
the exciting effect of the climate. I know not what
philosophers or medical men may say to it, but it
seems the only easy way of accounting for the hasty
and impulsive character of the people, to impute it
to the climate. All partake of it alike. Even the
very horses have a spring about them, which makes
them run without driving, and gallop as soon as the
rider is fixed in his stirrups. Strangers who bring
with them the dulness of more weighty atmospheres,
presently become enlivened, and even the drooping
and half-clothed Milesian, recovers his wit and
doubles his spirit amid the dry air, and under the
pure blue sky.
It is very true that another cause exists.  The
new settler, as well as the native, feels that there is
Al"
I
27 
THE CHILDREN.
room enough and food enough for all. So that, a
man does not look on his enlarging family with an
eye of care, and cast about, as in " the old country,"
for openings through which each may make standing
room, and find bread. Each nlew babe is a new
source of delight, and should the number surpass
that of a common family, you cannot but smile in
pleasant emotion with the father, who will tell you
that he has the round dozen, or he can produce you
"any quantity" of little ones; and then they come, not
with a " make your bow," or " courtesy to the lady,"
that is not republican fashion, but with a becoming
courage, looking straight into your eyes, and extending the right hand for a cordial shake. Frank to
answer, and ready to ask a question, you soon find
you have not got a timid creature who needs your
encouraging patronage, but a companion who will do
you a service, get you information, or ask it from
you, as the case may be.
The first impression produced by their manner is,
that they are brave, bright, pleasant, little " impudent things." But this, like many first impressions,
turns out to be erroneous.   The "impudent thing"
is gradually dropt, and instead of the bad word you
adopt "intelligent"  or  "independent."   I have
smiled to see a little fellow, who had certainly not
28
4 
THE CHILDREN.                   29
been quite seven years a traveller in this world, lead
the way in stepping into an omnibus, and walk up
to a convenient position for reading the regulations.
Then placing his hands behind him-I dare say in
the very attitude of papa if one saw him-read,
turning to the two younger brothers who seem to
listen with understanding, "Constructed to carry
twelve inside. Children who take seats pay half
price;" upon which  information, the small ones
scramble on the laps of the ladies who accompany
them, and the leading youth adjusts himself to stand
at a window, without visible direction from  the
ladies. I have also seen a child, a year older at
most, according to the rule of politeness and consideration for females which pervades all ranks in such
of the States as I have visited, calculate how many
sixpences he wanted from his ladies, and how many
cents for himself, collect them, reach up with some
help to pull the driver's string, and then on tiptoe
give the money to the driver through the little hole
in the roof. With us, such children would have
been guided and paid for. There is no air of assumption in the doing of such small services. It
seems natural, and expected by the seniors.   A
bright little fellow, it may be about nine years old,
was asked in my hearing if he had been to Mr.  
TIHE CHILDREN.
this morning.   He said, "No, he thought it better
not to go until his return from school." I was a
good deal surprised to learn that this visit, so easily
and pleasantly planned, was to a dentist, for the
purpose of having a tooth extracted; having seen a
good deal of fuss, and much unneccessary fear excited
on such occasions among children of that age at
home.
But much earlier than this, even in early infancy,
does this precocity show itself. At six weeks old, a
babe will cock up his small capless and nearly hairless head, and observe the new-comer into the nursery, and smile if pleased, or screamn if the "countenance likes him not."' And you will see a little
being that has not seen, the sun make one circle of
seasons, lay hold on a toy, not to cram it in his
mouth and look stupidly at it, but to turn it curiously
over, open it if he can, and peep in with a look as
wise as that of a raven peeping into a marrow-bone.
One mark of early observation and comprehension
never failed to excite my wonder. Little creatures
feed themselves very neatly, and are trusted with
cups of glass and china, which they grasp firmly,
carry about the rooms carefully, and deposit unbroken, at an age when in our country Mamma or
Nurse would be rushing after them to save the ves
i
30
I 
THIE CHILDREN.
sels fromn destruction.  Miy surprise has also been
excited by the lengths they are permitted to go in
mischief, without punishment, or scarcely admonition.
I heard a grandmanmma relate with complacency,
how her boy had locked himself in the drawing-room
and deliberately thrown a large set of china, piece
by piece, over the window.  His " reason" was, be cause he liked to hear the'" crash" as it fell. I in quired what she said to hinm. The indulgent parent
had explained to the small man that'" she did not
choose to have her pretty china broken, as that ren dered it useless." A very reasonable advice to an
unreasonable performer. It reminded me of an incident in the early days of Charles James Fox,
whose father had given him a gold repeater. The
boy said he must throw the watch against the wall.
"1 Why mulst you?" inquired Lord Holland.   "0
just that I may see what will happen."  "Why it
will break!"  "Well, Papa, I just want to see how
it goes when it breaks." " Well, Charles, if you
must you gn,tst, I suppose." The watch was thrown,
and, as was expected, flew into many pieces. Whether
destructiveness was very large in the boys or correctiveness very small in the parents, we leave each
one to settle according to their fancy.
The more rapid are the children in the early un
i
i
4
I
31 
THE CHILDREN.
foldings of the powers both of mind and body, the
more do they require wise guidance and wholesome
restraint. And here arises the parental difficulty.
It seems to require as much self-denial in the father
to refuse his boy anything as it can require in the boy
to be refused. And thus, as each obtains a seat at
the family table at mneals as early as they can be
trusted in an. elevated chair, they are used to ask
for and to receive all manner of varieties of food.
Breakfasts, like all other meals in a country richly
prolific in luxuries, are made of many dishes and
many kinds of cakes, and it is common to feed the
little ones on fish, flesh, and game; fruits, salads,
and hominy; Johnny-cakes, corn cakes, buckwheat
cakes all hot, with molasses; toast swimming in
butter, and mayhap a little plain bread and milk;
tea or coffee, if it is acceptable. It may be but a taste
of many of these things, but thus is the foundation
laid, I doubt not, of many a poor dyspeptic's pining
life. How often have I run over in my mind the
many brave and wise men of my own coutry, who
grew to health and strength on simple fare, and re membered  Sir Walter Scott's list of "lads" who,
like himself had breakfasted till they were fifteen on
porridge and milk.
The same danger meets them at all meals, and
32 
THE ClHILDREN.
especially when they are allowed. to sit up, as they
commonly are, to see the guests at evening parties,
and share oysters, jellies, and ices, fruits and preserves, not in the moderate way that contents grownup persons, but with all the heartiness and excess of
"frugivorous children."
In spite of melting summer suns and the keen
pursuit of objects, to which it is common to impute
the exceeding lack of flesh which renders many a
fine profile no better than the edge of a knife when
the face is turned to you, might it not be that a
more abstemious and simple diet in early years,
might be the means of adding to both the strength
and beauty of the full-grown man?
Children's diseases are hasty and come with a
fell swoop, desolating cities and hearts-Oh, how
desolating! Who can compute the pungency of
the parents' grief when the nursery is the scene of
such visitations. Many a young heart, that in its
first love and early marriage and early maternity,
scarcely knew any throbs but that of joy, by a visit
of death to her nursery has suddenly been taught
the solemn truth, that the world is a blighted place,
and that the passage is through a wilderness-and
also the deeper lesson, that there is a world of
spirits, a treasure-house for those who are gone.
3
33 
THE CHILDREN.
Our departed friend, Hewitson, beautifully wrote
on that subject:" God has taken from you, as it
were, a pledge that you will live for eternity. The
bereaved soul goes across the border of time in
quest of the departed spirit, and so acquaints itself
better with eternity and its unseen realities.   How
real is the distant isle to which a friend has gone,
though formerly it seemed but a dini fog on the
sea! How real is eternity, when one that we have
loved, and love still, is there!' One that I love is
there,' that gives our hearts a local habitation in
eternity.   This event tells us that we are nearer
our journey's end now than we were yesterday.
The Jordan is not far off-a few breathings of the
air of the wilderness, a few steps across the dreary
sands, and then we reach home."*
It is very touching to listen to many parents,
who will tell you it never entered their apprehension that their first dear child was mortal, till on
being weaned it fell sick; or, convulsions in teething, or that wide-wasting destroyer, "summer-complaint," swept it away.
This loss of children seems to me the rod under
which the Good Shepherd gathers many a sheep
into his fold. It is precious to hear them tell how
* Hewitson's Memoir, p. 238. New York: Carter & Brothers.
34 
THE CHILDREN.
they first turned to Christ, when they followed
their departed lambs to his bosom. Sweetly and
confidingly do they entrust you with their soul's
secret, and amid the riches of their new-found
hopes, mingle their sweet smiles and tears with
your sympathies-and precious it is to hear of
little disciples, taught early by the Great Teacher,
who never made a soul too young to receive His
influences, speaking words of resignation, of love
and peace to the weeping parents whom they are
about to leave, and of hope and joy of the welcoming Lord whose presence they are about to enter.
On listening to narratives of such early Christians,
I have felt it difficult to abstain from congratulating the mourners with a' blessed are the dead who
are already dead, more than the living who are yet
alive."
There never was better material of which to
make good and wise citizens, than these children, so
quick to understand, so keen to feel, so prompt to
act. But the very metal in them renders the use
of breaking bridles in childhood, and a tight rein
in youth, of great importance. They receive education with facility and smartness, but those who are
destined for commerce are so generally mounted on
a tall desk seat as early as their fourteenth or
I
35 
THE CHILDREN.
fifteenth year, that they much require exact and
strict moral discipline before.   Obedience,  that
grave self-denying quality, is never so easily nor so
fitly learnt as in childhood-self-will never gains
strength more rapidly than in the nursery. If the
child does not learn submission to his natural guardians with the first shooting up of his own will and
desires, how shall he later in life, learn obedience
to the divine will?
One perceives a perplexity in the parent's mind
sometimes, between a consciousness that he ought
to rule his son, and a notion that the little rebel's
escapades  are  the natural  result  of  "Liberty."
Liberty! that sacred name under which many a
crime has been perpetrated, and many a dangerous
and ruinous mistake committed. There is no fear
of the child born under free institutions and destined to exercise a freeman's privilege, becoming
too tame by mneans of just parental discipline-and
it is certain that he will render the more healthful
obedience to the laws of his country, and more
reverential observance of the laws of God by his
being accustomed to observe the laws of his earliest
protectors and loving friends.  To see sensible peo ple smile with secret admiration of the "spirited"
exhibition of rebellious will on the part of their
I
I
I
36 
THE CHILDREN.
offspring, excites, in an English mind, a sense of
lurking danger-as also to hear pupils asserting
boldly what they "will never learn," and what they
"will learn," and to see teachers using all manner
of adroit flatteries and timid expostulations, with
a view to obtain a slender influence over the pupils,
leads one to look out anxiously for ultimate results.
Natural quickness enables persons to discern
methods of " getting along," and to pass well in
social life, who have lacked thorough training.
Many a man finds himself in a position which forces
him to guide or influence others, who has not acquired the difficult art of governing himself, and
many a girl is placed in the centre of maternal
cares, with all the duties and responsibilities of
rearing a family, who feels herself at a loss on
many points, because of her own undisciplined
childhood; or what is worse, feels herself at no loss,
but thinks she knows all about it.
It happens frequently, also, that persons attain
wealth, who have not themselves been well educated,
and they, in the United States as in England, mistake the important objects of instruction, and omit
them in favor of the showy or amusing. In this
way only can I account for the listlessness or even
the impatience that I have seen manifested in
37 
THE CHILDREN.
school-examinations, when the subject is a solid
branch of education. Thus at an exhibition of the
attainments of the children who were brought in
from the " Orphan Asylum," to the Apollo Rooms
in New York for examination, a well-dressed and
animated audience, began to thin away in an
alarming manner, under an examination on geography and arithmetic, so that the sagacious directors
"stopt that," and immediately seats were cheerfully
resumed to listen to choruses, solos, and amusing
dialogues-and, though printed in the programme,
grammar, and parsing, and lessons in geometry
were not ventured upon, but gave place to " Dirty
Jane," " the Handy Lad," and the " Grand Banquet." When I remarked this to more than one
sensible and well-educated matron, I was told that,
not only at an examination of strangers, and
orphans, but of their own children, the parents often
exhibit weariness when the subjects of investigation
are solid. It is pleasing to see severer studies diversified by moral songs, hymns, and music, and a
touch of elocution may be very wisely bestowed on
the embryo stump-orator, or future senator, but that
these should be the all of education which excites
an interest, is an unsound and unsafe state of things.
I am not a judge of how much may be enjoyed by
il
88 
TEE CHILDREN.             39
Americans in such matters, being myself used to
the ways of a slower and more enduring people, who
can sit out long sermons, long lectures, and long
school examinations-but I feel assured that it is
not the well-informed part of the audience who be come weary of the substantial and useful portions
of instruction; and it might be wise in the less-in structed parents to remain and see if they can learn
something of what their children are acquiring. In
no country shall we find more lovely examples of
cheerful domestic union, or more honorable and self denying exertion on the part of parents, in sharing
and lightening the studies of their children-any
one might feel with me enriched for life by having
been admitted to such family circles, and formed
friendships with such parents; but in the everchanging mass of people in the maritime and commercial cities such steadfast and enlightened characters are far from being the majority.  Yet how
rich are the rewards of those who lay themselves
out to indoctrinate the young immortal, and to
strengthen while they prune the budding energies
of the future citizen.
Though it is years since in my remote Scottish
home, my  eyes often overflowed as I read the
speeches of John Quincey Adams, and pictured the
I
I
i
i 
I
THEU  CIILDREN.
venerable hoary-headed friend of his country day
after day standing on the floor of the Senate, breasting alone the opposition of the many, and asserting
alone the right of petition, yet it was not till I recently read his mother's letters to him, that I conmprehended whence 1-,e derived his solitary courage,
or how he was so deeply imbued with the principle
which sustained him still in old age. Was not
Mrs. Adams as truly serving her country, in rearing
such a son, as was hel: husband in his long years of
separation from his family, amid vexatious and evervarying negotiations?   The  generous enthusiasm,
the reasonable and life-giving patriotism which
glowed in her bosom, was transferred into that of
her children, and was expended in cheering and
strengthening her husband under a separation,
which, to her devoted heart, was but one long pang
of suffering.-It is most interesting and amusing to
see her complain that the paper she writes on cost
a dollar a sheet, and beg for an importation of pins,
as there is not one left in the town, and of needles,
for the tailor has the cloth still, but no tools to
make it with, in the same letter in which she wisely
comments on the history of her new-born country,
cheers on the patriot to greater endurance and firmness, and selects parallel cases, on pattern characters
i
I
40 
THE CHILDREN.
from Greece or Rome. Bravely did she live through
many painful trials and dangers, and was after all,
in spite of much privation, as happy in her stren uous exertions for the good of her large family, and
her wide circle, as she could ever have been after,
even when she saw first her husband and then her
son elevated to the Presidential chair. —She was a
Mother!-suited to the trying times on which her
lot fell, and nobly fulfilling her part to her children
and her country. Such a mother as Napoleon said
France needed, but such as France has not yet found.
But America had still a higher style of parental
discipline in the parents of her Washington, which
she most justly appreciates.   Every school-room
has rung with the story of that father who embraced
his erring boy, because he spoke truth even though
he accused himself; and every parish library can
produce the narrative of the patriot's early training.
-When, as its fruit, we find the self-denying hero
and brave warrior retiring to the forest to seek a
place of prayer, which the throngings of a restless
camp denied him; when we see him refusing the
perpetual honors and government which his grateful
country pressed upon him, we gladly trace back all
these heroic virtues to parental training, and to the
early reception of those Christian principles which
i
I
41 
THE CHILDREN.
made him what he was, and enabled him so well to
accomplish the work for which God raised him up
-and do we not sympathize with the quiet confidence of his wife, when asked if during his long
absences in such stirring times she were not
wretched with anxiety, she replied, "I know that
wherever George Washington is he is doing his
duty, and thus I am calm.'" Happy and honored
wife, successor of happy and honored parents. Who
would not exert themselves to produce such fruits
as these?
To rule a household well, and to rear children
with the view of the early home being the nursery
ground from which plants will be removed first to
flourish as trees in the church on earth, and again
to grow forever by the river of crystal, and under
the glorious tree with its twelve manner of fruits,
whose leaves are for the healing of the nationsthese are objects worthy of the noblest ambition,
and the most indefatigable pains.
Prayerful teaching accompanied by the earnest
eloquence of a full heart, and the original illustrations of a yearning spirit, never passes unrequited
on this side the Atlantic or on that-in the wilderness on this side the Jordan, or on the glorious
shores of the Promised Land.
42 
egutnormt'r34outo ai    ft   latmg
FROM observing the smiling crowd, which is to
form the mien and women of the succeeding genecration? we turn naturally to the means of Education
In this department it is very pleasant to adopt the
language-at which one is apt to smile when you
hear its mistaken application on some other subjects,-and to say gladly, that " no country in the
world" has a more just appreciation of the importance of universal instruction  than  the United
States-and also that the Eastern States, have
blen surpassed by "no country in the world," in
t extent and energy of their educational schemes.
The knowledge which is reckoned necessary to
every mlan, no matter what his business or position,
and which forms the subject of instruction in the
common schools, is to' spell accurately, read well,
write legibly, understand the principles of grammar,
have a fair knowledge of geography, arithmetic, and
the history of the United States."   One of the
I 
44           THE COMMIION SCHOOLS
annual reports of the Board of Education for the
city and county of New York, gives its judgment
on the subject thus —" The education of no citizen
should fall below this standard, whether his interests and happiness as a man, or his influence as the
head of a family, or a member of society be alone
regarded,"' and at this object the Comnmon Schools
aim.  It may be needful to state that the word
"common,"' in the designation of the schools, does
not mean schools for the common people, but
schools, common to and suited for all.  The basis
of education is satisfactory so far as it goes   but
while for the multitude this is as much  as their
destined occupations permit them to reach, for those
whose prospects, ability, and leisure may induce
them to desire to go further, more is wanting-and
in consequence the Free Academy has recently
sprung up in the city of New York, which receives
youth who have attained all that the common
school offers, and who wish to advance to classical,
mathematical, and  scientific  studies.   This  Free
Academy is founded by the city, and like the common schools, sustained by a self-imposed tax. The
Board of Education took up the initiative in this
matter-a com-nuittee was appointed to report, and
ultimately a memorial was laid before the legisla
I
i
i 
AND FREE ACADEMY.
ture. By it an act was passed under which the
institution was established, but with the provision
that the question be submuitted to the people at the
ensuing school and judicial election. Thec result of
this election is interesting as showing to which side
the balance for ignorance or for instruction turns.
There were votes fo)- establishing the Free Academy 19,404, against it 3;409, giving the enormous
and honorable majority in favor of instruction of
15,995-and thus the scheme went onl, and the
beautiful new edifice was opened in the beginning
of 1849, with the following staff of professors:  Mathematics and Natural Philosophy.
History and Belles Lettres.
Latin and Greek Languages and Literature.
Chemistry.
French Language.
Spanish.
German Language and Literature.
Drawing.
iNo government is so much in need of universal
eniWghtenment, or so mucLh in danger from popular
ignorance as the republican.  Each member of it
ought by having a certain store of knowledge laid
up in his own mind to be sheltered from the overpowering influence  of eloquence, the hasty and un
I
i
45 
46        THIE COMMON SCHOOLS
weighed opinions of talking demagogues, and the
misleading sympathies of popular cries'  I He  requires to discern the liberal from the selfish, the
just from the unjust.   Not only his own but the
general welfare is concerned in his being able to
take a part in carrying on its government; he may
be required to enact laws, or to aid in their execution when enacted. If he understands his own
rights as a citizen, and those of his neighbors, and
takes any part that may fall to him in carrying on
the government, he will gain a useful ascendency,
and may by means of superior cultivation become
a help, an honor, and a blessing to his country.
Therefore it is pleasant to consider that the largest
proportion of those who enjoy the advantages of the
Free Academy are sprung from parents who could
not well afford to give them such an educationand that the only barrier against their admission, is
deficient attainment in those lessons which  they
ought to have previously acquired in the Common
School.
It is curious to remark the grounds of dissent
from the plan of the Free Academy propounded
by Horace Greeley-a kind of republican run mad,
who objects to learning the dead languages, because science and art are of far greater practical im 
AND FREE ACADEMY,
portance, and refuses to afford to a part of the youth
a more costly education, because it cannot be pro vided for and freely proffered to all.
If the Free Academy were to abridge the powers
and extent of the Comninon School, the objection
might be valid, but as it only offers the deeper cup
of instruction to the lip which has already drained
the shallower, and as it only passes it from those
who, from position or slow attainment, have not
leisure or relish for it, one apprehends that the objection is unsound, or mayhap insincere, and got up
to serve some political turn.
A republic possesses a sacred trust in the talents
of its citizens, and ought to cultivate them for the
public good-and the more that the average of talent is low, ought those who rise above the average
to be cared for. As you would select the strongest to
bear the standard, and the bravest to man the breach,
so should you cherish him of powerful intellect to
deal with the laws and executive of his country.
Self-educated and self-raised persons are apt to despise the ladder to learning, from a notion that if
mind is worth anything it will find its level.  But
what an advantage to remove early difficulties and
suggest pursuits that may be selected according to
taste These self-raised know not how much higher
47 
48        THiE COMM0ON SCHOOLS
they might have risen, or how much better they
might have acquitted themselves had they been early
placed amnid thle facilities which education furnishes.
t\~ew York may bravely lift up her head and say
she has not left the "step-children of nature and
fortune, the outcast, the benighted, the brutalized,
and the homeless," to flee to a rock for shelter' She
has generously opened her arms, and is opening
them wider and wider still.  She has instructed
thousands, and will instruct thousands more.,., Besides the very extensive benevolent institutions sustained by voluntary subscription, the report for 1850
shows at least nearly 11,000 dollars contributed by
the City to aid in sustaining orphan houses, blind
asylums, and places of reform for juvenile delinquents.ow poor and dangerous a plea is it for
depriving the few of the refining and expanding influences of good scholarship that the same  boon
cannot be conferred on the masses-and how much
need has a republic of leading minds, well imbued
with principles of justice and enriched with the
histories of other ages and other nations, and with
their experience, under a just and wise Providence,
of past failures and successes   It is easy to raise
a popular cry which may frustrate the wisest pur poses. Such a cry about liberty of conscience has 
AND FREE ACADEMY.
hooted all catechisms and creeds out of the present
scheme of instruction-and in virtue of the City
having at present an inheritance of children, whose
parents as Romanists dare not, or as infidels will
not read the Scriptures, the Hioly Book and all
teaching founded on it are sparingly used in the
common schools. How this comports with the order
of a country calling itself Christian, and essentially
Christian in most of its institutions, it is not easy
to see, while it is very easy to see that a cry raised
about encroachment on liberty of conscience was
sure to tell on a people so jealous for liberty as are
the Americans.
It is melancholy to observe bright children, capable of all manner of impressions, well versed in the
brief history of their own country, but utterly ignorant, so far as the school-teaching goes, of the history of the world they live in, its creation, the
path by which they may pass safely through it, and,
above all, of how they may go well out of it.
It will be said that this statement is not fact, and
that a portion of Scripture is read each morning,
and the Lord's prayer said, or sometimes chaunted,
at the opening of the school. This is optional, and,
judging by delicate admonitions in the reports, it
would appear is omitted by some  teachers.  Tf
49
4 
50       THE COMMON SCHOOLS
reading the Scriptures were steadily observed, it
could not be said that some classes after learning to
read pass on to other things, and never read any
more, or at least read a little history so seldom that
the inspectors complain of reading not being cultivated as an art, and say there is no reason why the
pupils should not read as well as Miss Fanny Kemble, to listen to whose " readings of Shakspeare" the
taste and cultivation of the city were thronging.
It is an excellent rule to begin the day by the
habitual reading of the word of God. Let it be
without note or comment, if that be necessary to
security against the teacher's peculiar dogmas, but
still let it be-solemnly and soberly. Hiow many
whose hours are hereafter to be spent in earning a
livelihood may thus stow up sacred sentiments to
fall back upon when the time of reflection or of retrospection comes. And if there is tobe no more
extended petition than what is found in the Lord's
Prayer, at least let that be said, not sung, with deliberation and reverence, each in the attitude of
prayer.
Were the vote reconsidered, apart from any false
excitement about encroachment on liberty of cow
science, one cannot but hope, that even in New York
-where numerous recently-arrived Irish emigrants
i
I
I
I 
AND FREE ACADEMY.         51
have, by some evasion of the laws, been permitted
to exercise the power of voting  they would lay it
down as a rule, that the Scripre History be read
and questioned upon, at least, as diligently as that
of the United States.  It seems to me grievous to
see the real Christian influences which would be
shed from many of the teachers, neutralized by this
vain cry of liberty of conscience.   Children do not
learn arithmetic and geography without teachingbut they are supposed to know Christianity by intuition, and to exercise conscience before it is enlightened.  Liberty of conscience!  Poor dear ignorant offspring of fallen Adam! Let it be called
liberty of sin, liberty of forgetting God. liberty of
neglecting the Saviour, liberty of slaying their own
souls,-but let not the citizens be deluded by supposing that training which omits instruction in reference to God and his thoughts towards themselves
is honest genuine liberty.
Protestants have thus heedlessly in keeping with
the constitution of their government as they reckon
it, slighted the means of conveying early knowledge
of the Bible, and are not awake to the proceedings
of the enemy, who, with uinsleeping eye, discerns
where and how he may insinuate his baleful influences.   Amid  many pleasant moral songs which
i
I
I
II 
THE COIMMION SCHOOLS
form the peculiar attraction of a school examination, you may not hear one Protestant hymn. No
strain of adoration or of love is put into those
young hearts. But watch, and when you inquire
what are the words of that noble and striking air?
you will discover that it is the chaunt of a Popish
pilgrimage.  What those sweet cadences of thanksgiving? they are praise for the pleasant rest to be
obtained before the little shrines which stud the
deep and nzee'itoriously stony ascent, crowned by the
image to whose sacred fane the pilgrims are climbing on their knees.   Think we such strains are
adopted by accident? They are certainly by carelessness in some quarter, but it must be of purpose
and by Popish influence in some other. In England
we are sufficiently accustomed to such wiles, and we
have seen music made the plea for the introduction
of many an " ora pro nobis" to the Virgin, which
the unthinking have accepted because of its beauty.
Another mode of insinuating mischief is the
prize books, which are distributed on a day of examination.   Many are good and useful, many are
pleasant, but, if one may venture to say so, too
juvenile and silly, and some are unwholesome and
dangerous. In selecting a set of books, when an
eye must be turned to the cost, and to the attrac
i
i
52 
AND FREE ACADEMY.
tive aspect of the prize, it is not difficult for the
designing to introduce mischief under cover of blue
and gold. In such a livery have I found, in the
hand of a girl of fifteen, the "Beauties of Festus,"
as her reward for attainments in the highest class.
Festus! a work which in spite of all its talent and
fine thinking, I threatened to burn on account of
its blasphemous tendencies, when a young person
proposed to leave it on my table. Festus-which
introduces among its dramatis personae the Sacred
Three, and daringly inserts in the margin the holy
names, mixed up with its other interlocutors. I
turned over the "Beauties of Festus" with eager
fear, and found that no delicate omission had been
made; as is the book, so are its beauties-and this
the reward of a studious girl! Surely an enemy
hath done this!
I Another painful effect of this liberty-of-conscience scheme struck me again and again in attending the Inspector's examinations, viz., the abridgment of his liberty and that of any Christian
minister's who might be present, so that their final
addresses were limited to stories of obedient boys,
good morals and good manners, and not a word
hinted of the divine law, of the gospel, and of the
bright prospects which the gospel unfolds.   The re
53 
54       THE COMMON SCHOOLS
wards proposed to them are that they may be respected, may become magistrates, governors, senators, or even President of the United States. One
grieved to see the Christian sentiment kept down
in the speakers, and the Christian motive withheld
from the listeners, and as one looked over the pleasant, orderly, ductile-looking youth, one felt how
much finer things are in store for those who love
the Lord, and how delightful it would be, instead
of senators and presidents, to tell them of crowns
and palms, and harps, and of the city where there
is no night, no pain, no difficult tasks, and no death.
The idea also arises, that there is an over-tenderness in the examinators. If a whole class blunders
over a question, as I have repeatedly remarked to
happen more in English grammar than in any other
branch, it is glided by, some loophole for excuse is
founda so that neither teachers nor pupils feel the
deficiency sufficiently to be put on the alert in correcting it. Why not say simply, this needs to be
amended? The general tenor of remark is of a
complimentary character. Is this lest free pupils
should take offence and leave the school? Then
surely the pupils are much more free than their examinators. One expects genuine freedom to use
great plainness of speech, and that in cases of this 
AND FREE ACADEMY.
sort, the performance of duty demands it-a painful evidence that in New York city liberty is sliding gradually under an influence which domineers
over conscience wherever it reigns, is found in the
blackening of one page in a whole edition of a
school lesson-book. And what is this page bearing
so condemning a mark? Nay, it is carefully obliterated, and so past my reading, except that through
its gloom the name of Martin Luther is dimly perceptible. Is there liberty of conscience here, or is
there not rather incipient papal domination?
With these exceptions, but they are grave ones,
the Common School.is an admirable institution,
furnishing the fundamentals of all learning, and
the books employed in teaching, to every rank of
children.  No one need be uneducated if willing to
be taught.  The school-houses are, in general, erected- by the district, which also elects trustees who
manage the school for one year and appoint teachers, while the teachers are paid from the general
school-fund.  A  difficulty about obtaining steady
attendance, arises from the very liberality of the
plan.  Caprice lIds to leaving one school  and
entering another. Or a new and airy school-house
in the next ward, may thin the benches of the
school in this. It is our experience in Britain that
55 
56        THE COMMON SCHOOLS
we prize less what we get freely, and therefore, the
mother who sends her penny with her infant on
Monday morning, will have more scruple about
keeping the child at home for a trifling reason, than
she would have if she paid nothing.  We need not
weigh the penny against lost time and opportunity,
and the contraction of idle habits-any one who
can "calculate" sees that, and the absence of charge
is hinted at as a difficulty with the common school
teachers as well as with our own.
There is a very becoming courage in the manner
the pupils give out their attainments, and a pleasant
music in their recitation, and at times a swelling
feeling of the sentiments they utter, or a suppressed
consciousness of the drollery of the dialogues which
they recite on exhibition days, which always drew
forth my heart to the young people. In no country
does one feel so clearly that courage exists apart
from boldness, and that frankness has no necessary
connection with forwardness, as in the United
States.  That movable  excitabilty which  "turns
at the touch of joy or woe, and turning trembles
too," is inexpressibly lovely in youth-and I have
never more admired young countenances, than some
of those that I have seen turned to beloved teach
t 
AND FREE ACADEMY.
ers, and stirred by the zeal, ambition, or animation
of a favorite lesson.
The education, if we except the classics, embraces
a wider range than that of our parish schools, and
is very thorough, if it be not the pupil's own fault.
One sees the higher classes of girls quite "au fait"
in astronomy, square and cube root, &c. Another
striking difference is the employment of Female
Teachers, not in the industrial department only, nor
for girls alone. They seem more numerous than
the Male Teachers, probably because they are obtained at a cheaper rate, Why the rate should be
cheaper does not appear. Their labor is not less,
neither are their attainments and success inferior.
I have never admired calm authority and sensible
dignity more than in the person of an American
female teacher, while she drew forth the attainments
of fifty big boys in Mathematics and the Latin rudiments. Her class was in perfect order, and her pupils evidently observed her with affectionate respect.
She was not teaching in one of the Common Schools,
as the Latin lesson proved.   But such female teachers are nearly as common as the schools.
As past experience generally passes in the mind
in a sort of panoramic review while we are busily
observing the present; or rather, what we witness
57 
THE COMMON SCHOOLS
now forms the foreground, while what we have seen
elsewhere forms the background of the picture, so it
is inevitable that comparison should be in active
exercise. One difference which met me everywhere
was, the mode of addressing pupils at an examination, showing what is expected of them. They are
not treated as machines upon whom the Teachers
are to act, as they unfortunately sometimes are in
England; but as members of the community, who
have a part to act themselves, and who are as much
interested in the credit of the school as the Teachers. The effect of this is to excite a common interest between teachers and taught, and to give superior manliness and energy.
The fittings-up, or " fixings," as our brethren call
them, of some of the more recent school-rooms are
very worthy of imitation. Instead of one long,
dreary bench in front of a desk, which forms a barrier to be climbed over, each pupil has a rounded
seat, which turns a little on a pivot and has a low
back, so that he glides gently into his place, instead
of clambering into it with an unsightly scramble;
and when seated, he has a rest for his spinal column,
which saves him at once from oppressing and contracting his chest by leaning forward, and from the
lateral curvature which so frequently is the result of
i
58 
AND FREE ACADEMY.
attitudes chosen to relieve the weariness of a long
unsupported seat.
There is much ingenuity and spirit in the songs
and recitations which awaken patriotic sentiments in
the very dawn of life, and give each child a personal
interest in what he is engaged about. A selection
of these things might form a curious and characteristic publication, letting one into the very heart and
spring of the national character. The stanza or two
here presented are only fragments:
THE COMMON SCHOOL.
*      *       *      *       *      *      *       *
I'll sing the hours of sweet content,
Of innocence and toys,
When to the Common School I went
With other girls and boys.
'Tis a happy theme; like a golden dream its memory seems
to be,
And I'll sing with joy and gratitude-The Common School
for me.
*      *      *       *      *       *      *      *
Then blessings on our Common Schools,
Wherever they may stand.
They are the people's colleges,
The bulwarks of the land.
Thus in our songs we will them praise
With loud and joyous glee,
And Yankee Doodle we will raise,
And tell the world we're free.
I
59 
THE COMMON SCHOOLS
'Tis a happy theme; like a golden dream its memory seems
to be,
And I'll sing while I have voice or tongue-The Common
School for me.
This fell the more cordially into a Scottish ear,
because of the familiar air, " There's nae luck about
the house," to which it was sung with great spirit.
There is a very extensive Temperance Society,
which bears the name of their great General as its
rallying word. There is practical usefulness, both
to the cause of Temperance and that of Patriotism,
in teaching the children a strain like the following,
which, we need not say, is not introduced because of
its poetry, but because of its influence:
"Through all the wide creation,
This glorious reformation*
Must spread to every nation,
So nobly speeds it on.
Then let the cause speed on.
Let the name of Washington
Be rung through all the land, boys,
Oh, boldly take your stand, boys!
Come join us heart and hand, boys.
Remember Washington.
He bared his noble breast, boys,
To give his country rest, boys,
Because we were oppressed, boys.
Then let the cause speed on.
* Temperance.
60 
AND FREE ACADEMY.
Let the name of Washington
Excite each youthful heart, boys,
To act a generous part, boys,
When in the cause you start, boys.
Remember Washington.
If a few heart-stirring rhymes were introduced
into those of our schools at home, where the art
of singing is practised, they might produce a happy effect in awakening the patriotism, and quickening the loyalty of our juvenile citizens, and worthily supersede " Little Tom Tuck," and his tribe.
kWhat has been said of schools refers chiefly to the
City and County of New York, but might be equally
said of all the counties and cities in the Sta    In
all the Eastern States, the impulse to furnish education is vigorous.
In Connecticut there is an extensive school property, consisting of Bonds and Mortgages, Bank Stock,
Cultivated Lands and Buildings, and Wild  Lands,
which is portioned out according to the claims and
wants of the several counties. The arrangement is
probably nearly the same in all the New-England
States, and in the other Free States. The management varies with the places, but all have schools with
libraries attached. Some have Committees to examine and select books, and where no Committee
exists, the good people in the district do what they
61 
THE COMMON SCHOOLS
can to form useful libraries, and happily by a common law, positively bad books are excluded from all
public libraries
The United  States delights to call itself the
Model Republic, and is a fair field for proving the
republican form of goverrnment.   In this world,
where perfection is not found, we are often glad to
do the best that circumstances admit of, and to
yield points for the sake of unanimity, but this exelusion of religious instruction from  the common
schools is a very great thing to yield. They talk
of the purpose of some religious bodies, to erect
church schools, and take the superintendence of
their own children, and they are very right if better
may not be.  But a distant spectator, who is ignorant of the adverse power which may arise to prevent a change, should it again be put to the vote,
cannot but wish thie miatter were reconsidered before the most pious of the colmmunity withdraw
from the present system entirely.  If a more decided duty were made of Scripture-reading, if questioning on that, in the same manner as on other
reading, were introduced, and if a few  passages
of the Bible and a few hymns, from the copious
collections which exist, were committed to memory,
and if a little sacred singing were added to the
62 
AND FREE ACADEMY.
morning prayer, it would give solidity to the whole
fabric, and form a foundation for all the moral.les sons which it is the duty of the teachers to incul cate. To expend all the pains on preparation for
this short life, and leave an eternity of happiness
or misery unthought of, uncared for, is not the act
of a truly kind and reasonable government.
A little French pamphlet, entitled " Le Palais
de Cristal," contains a few sentences that apply
but too well to this subject-they are here translated: "It seems as if all would work without the
influences of religion, and without having recourse
to its aid. They never call it to help them, and
even, they think to do, or to be able to do better
without it than with it. They pretend that it has
failed of its aim; that it has not succeeded, and
.they leave it on one side in the positive expectation
to accomplish their design. They will not mention
it, because they fear in doing so, to introduce a
source of quarrels, of divisions, and animosities, as
the past has proved, for men have quarrelled and
gone to war and strife as much for religion as for
politics and other things. No, Jesus Christ and
his religion go for nothing in modern plans and
projects. The religious amelioration of man is of
no moment. The sole object is the temporal, cor
I
63 
64        THE COMMON SCHOOLS.
poreal, material, and a little the intellectual good
of man. All belongs to this world, and all is for
this world. As if they supposed that man is not
immortal nor fallen, and responsible before God.
Here, man and his glory are the sovereign, nay, almost the sole object."*
* Le Palais de Cristal, par le REv. Z. V. CACHEMAILLE,
page 11.
I 
lathat4   rIot      o.
WHEN the lack of religious instruction in Conmmon Schools is mentioned, pious parents generally
advert to Sabbath-schools and try to console themselves with them as a substitute. And so they
might, in some degree, were the influence all-pervading, and the attendance steady-and  did not the
heart require "line upon line and precept upon
precept," before the truth sinks into it.
Were all who venture to take charge of classes
themselves enlightened Christians, had all the gift
of teaching, and all the zeal and love which would
induce them to accompany lessons with their prayers,-then one might comprehend how the tender
mother who has begun to teach the sweet story of
Jesus, and has delighted to hear her little ones
lisp hymns in his praise, can venture to resign her
office to another. Then one might see the father
confide the charge which is given him of God, to a
youth who in the common course of things, is not
5
, 
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
likely to be as experienced a Christian as himself
Then one might hope that mollifying Sabbath influences would subdue young hearts and bring them
home to their parents, what they wish them to be
come.
One cannot but question whether this is the
natural result, if the natural guides withdraw entirely from the office of ordering their children well
themselves. There is a uniting power, a respectful
affection, an elevating sentiment, which if it be
awakened at all, is lost by the parent and transferred to the teacher.   The years in which  the
young and helpless draw their support from their
parents, are also the years when their sympathies
may  be interwoven, so as to make a life-long web
of'mutual help and unfailing concord. Why should
this be sacrificed? and a gap made of the intervening time between the nursery lessons and their
entering on public life.
It is said, if the well-qualified parents withhold
their children from the Sabbath-school, the ill-qualified will not send theirs. If this be so, it must
arise from a maistake lying somewhere as to the
origin and use of such schools. When Mr. Raikes
first assembled a few-children in the city of Gloucester, he did not go to the most pious people in
66 
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
the city and ask for their children, that he might
instruct them in addition to the little vagabonds of
the high-ways and hedges-but he filled his benches
with the uneared-for, and his example was quickly
followed by thousands.
An unfortunate consequence of children, who
might be at least as well trained at home, going out
for religious instruction, is, that they are often seated with the school in church; and thus another
bond with their own family is not formed. They
do not walk to the house of God in company; they
are not nuder the parental eye during the service,
and the hoard of remembrances is not treasured up
which might come over the heart in after-life, like a
breeze from the sweet south, fanning the flame of
love, or awakening the drowsy conscience.
There is no more tranquil use of Sabbath morning hours than to enrich the memory with the word
of God, and no more social way of passing its evening than in reading and catechizing the domestic
circle. In a country where sociality is so lively,
and natural buoyancy so excitable, a stamp of domestic tranquillity may be placed on such use of the
sacred hours, which may steady the character for
life.
No one can suppose, from these remarks, that
I
i
67 
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
Sabbath-teaching in schools is meant to be rejected.
To the Christian artisan who is glad of the unwonted delight of an hour for repose and meditation,
what a privilege to send his young ones to the care
of pious teachers who act under the inspection of
his pastor or elders. iHe is glad that they are better taught than he could teach them, and that
they procure from the library books which he
could not seek for them, and he prays for a blessing on the teacher and his efforts.. While to
the children of the ignorant and regardless, the
Sabbath-school is a boon of whose worth they are
as yet unaware.
It would be a decided advantage if the young
people were to remain a year, or even two, longer
under instruction than they usually do, so that they
might ascend from mere juvenile recitations to the
proving of doctrines or the collation of Scriptures,
such as the prophecy in one book, and its fulfilment
in another; or the conversion of an apostle in one
city, and his planting of churches in another.
If a looker-on who confesses not having attended
more than a dozen Sabbath-schools in various cities
may venture an observation, it would be, that in
Scotland more pains is taken to lay in a store of
Scriptural knowledge, and give the understanding
68 
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
food which may work upon and guide the conscience,
while in America more pains are taken to arouse
the conscience and address feeling. If the latter
method succeed at present, and a permanent change
be wrought, it is well; but should it prove but a
momentary flash of feeling which expires, it is not
so likely to return, for it has no firm foundation in
the mind. The recollection of an emotion is not
potent like the return of a Scripture truth, coming
with an authority which cannot be gainsayed or resisted.
Many there are who carry a grateful love for
their teachers through the church during life, and
many young ones who entertain a respect and confidence for their Sunday guides, but still the fear
arises that amid the multitude there be young guides
who require to be themselves guided, and that the
calm consistent walk of' their fathers is painfully departed from by some who venture to be Christian
instructors. The admonition to-the pupils to beware of being' lovers of pleasure more than lovers
of God," falls powerless from the lips of a teacher
who crowds to juvenile parties and passes evenings
in music and dancing. And it is very painful to
see loving mothers watching their offspring plunge
into a sea of folly, which they do not seem to hope
69 
70             SABBATH SCHOOLS.
to control, and their turning with a moistened eye
and asking, "Ah! do you think they will be drowned?" Who shall solve the quLestion? Prayer may
be answered for them-God may in mercy arrest
them, and show them, perhaps by a stroke of his
chastening rod, that what they pursue is unsatisfying, and leads to dreariness and vanity.  At any
rate it was not such early occupations that made the
parents such advanced Christians, and it is probable
that more domestic union in divine teaching, and
less herding together in smiling throngs on the
Lord's day, might prevent the ardor for and extent
of vain social pleasures, over which Christian parents
mourn, and from which they forebode evil.
Some small arrangements which might be easily
changed seem inconvenient, and pernicious in their
consequences.  Such as that of laying the " Christian Messenger," or other religious newspapers, in
the pews, and distributing the Sabbath library-books
to the children just before the service commences.
The temptation is great, and is yielded to without
reserve, of occupying time previous to the  commencement of divine worship in reading and diverting the mind by religious news, or so-called religious
tales, which might be fitly employed in petitions for
the pastor, and for power to unite the heart to fear 
SABBATH SCHIIOOLS.
God's name. It is very painful to see the paper
scarcely thrust aside to make way for the hymn,
and the little ones devouring the narrative portion
of their book-carefully passing by the "sermoniz ing"-while the man of God is pouring salutary in struction into their unlistening ears.
The question was gravely put in a Southern city:
whether, seeing parents are inclulgecl with a portion
of worldly matter in the " Presbyterian," " Observer," andl " Evangelist," it would not be right to indulge the children in the same way in their " Record"
or "M1 essenger."  Do you refer to a Sunday or religious paper? was the question in reply.  "Yes;
of course pious children would pass the news by until
Monday."  "But you teach them to pray,' Lead us
not into temptation;' would not this method lay a
snare before them?"   "Those who have any fear
will see and shun it." "But those who have not will
fall into it, and get the habit of lax employment of
sacred time, acquired by mreans of you who wish to
do them good. Believe me, Sir, in Scotland your
question would admit of but one answer."
This little colloquy indicates a degree of slightness with respect to the use of sacred time and happy
opportunities, which may lead to painful consequences.
71 
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
Many solid Christian people feel so deeply that
the libraries are flooded with trifling and insipid
would-be religious stories, full of vague and unsound
theology, that the evil must speedily be corrected.
There is a degree of sensibility in the Americans
in all matters of taste, which often calls forth admiration, and which mingles with occasions of sorrow
as well as of joy. At times perhaps the tasteful
might with advantage be restrained, lest it occupy
the room of some more precious thing.
One simple example of what is meant, may be exhibited without a breach of delicacy. A gentleman
past the meridian of life, with manners and countenance beaming with benevolence, enters a room where
he is hailed by the children with loving welcomes.
But especially the little girl, who is his pupil, places
herself on his knee, and twines her fingers through
his half-hoary hair.
The mother, with grateful expression, relates that
he is the teacher, and most beloved by all his class,
in school and out. The gentleman mentions how
many years he has kept a Sabbath-class of children
at the age reckoned most liable to distressing deaths,
and how he never had a death amongst them, but kept
them on till ready to be promoted to a higher class.
It was remarked "that this was happy for him, and
I
72 
SABBATH  SCHOOLS.
for parents; yet sometimes the removal of a schoolmate by death, impressed the young mortals with a
new and important view of the eternal world."
" You would not wish for a death, for the purpose of
giving the children such a lesson?" inquired the
mother.  "Surely not; but at the moment  I remember a large school, in silence, and many in deep
emotion, when the children by their own motion selected a hymn and recited it after the death of one
of their number, the effect of which remains with
some to this day.  The poem began thus:
'Death has been here, and borne away
A sister from our side.
Just in the morning of her day,
As young as we she died.'"
Well, Madam,"' said the excellent man, with his
loving, smiling countenance, "we have not been so
many years united, without opportunity to send the
lesson of mortality home to the heart. We lost a
beloved lady, one of our teachers, some time ago.
She was very dear to her own pupils, and they sincerely mourned her; and I led my own little train to
the funeral, dressed in white; and when we came up
the centre aisle in a double column, they divided and
passed up each side of the coffin, and each laid a
73 
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
bunch of roses upon it. They then seated themselves on each side of the wide pulpit stairs, which
they nearly filled."
It was easy to say, for it is true, that the scene
must have been touching and pretty, but there was
a want of fitness.  It would have been touching and
pretty at a wedding or a baptism. It was not so
easy not to say, " Were you not sacrificing the solemn to the picturesque, and diverting thought from
the judgment throne and the world of glory, on behalf of the merely graceful and beautiful?"
.
74 
?-I!N every crowded community, there is a circle
which from profligacy, ignorance, or poverty in the
parents, falls below the educational degree; and, if
that circle is to beo taught at all, it must be led and
raised by the hand of Christian benevolene New
York has a crowd of such persons who linger about
the docks half employed, because intemperate, not to
mention the newly-arrived and desolate-looking
emnigrants, and is quite as able to furnish out a few
"ragged schools" as are the Trongate of Glasgow,
and the Cowgate of Edinburg.
am not sure, that with the exception of that of
Mr. Pease at the Five Points, anly such week-day
gathering of forlorn creatutres has been miade.  Several Sabbath ragged-schools, however, have been
assembled by m-eans of the energy of individual compassion.  Intelligent and spirited young Christian
men have permeated the throng, and coaxed them
within the sound of instruction. By what ingenious
I
'r(C,4t "I00   3  g St tfi  lig t 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
devices they influenced the wild little denizens I am
not aware-Perhaps by some such as the poor shoemaker,  John  Pounds,  on  Plymouth  dock used,
whose pot of hot potatoes on a cold day used to furnish a bribe by which the boys were drawn within
the circle of instruction. The good youths must
have had many a fruitless or at least disappointing
stroll on the docks, and around HIudson and Greenwich Streets, before they assembled the nucleus of
what are now very flourishing schools.
And here we find gathered -,the step-children of
nature and fortune, the outcast, the benighted, the
brutalized, and the homeless." Surely here' we shall
find Horace Greeley and some of his brave three
thousand toiling with might and main to raise the
motley crowd to the level of the common school.
They may be there, bult I did not hear of themwell, but the children are assembled. What shall we
call them?  There's much in a name! Though every
knee and elbow testifies that it is a ragged gathering, though every mop-head unconscious of a comb,
and many a shirtless neck buttoned round by the
collar of a coat big enough for father, proves that
they are uncared for, yet " it is not right to have it
thus set down."-Ragged school indeed!  Which
of all those four hundred tatterdemallions would
76,
.- 4; 
THE  BOYS' MEETING.                 77
enter your door, in spite of the temptation of a dry
seat and warm stove, if you give it such an opprobrious name.   Benevolence is ingenious.  It will
not be baulked by any obstacle that can be managed,
and so to publish itself in the district without offence, it hangs out its cotton placard, on  Sundays
only, with' THE Boys' 3'IEITING," in capital letters
for guidance to the wanderers.
Here  they come  pell moell! but  a composed
person meets them  at the  door, whispers a carn
word or two: admits them  one by one, and turns
thiem over to another, who seats themi  And now look
along the benches.  Here  are four hundred creatures full of griuace, restlessness, trick, and temper,
ready to fly to bLuffets. if but their neighbors toue<
them.-A good man with fire in his eye and zeal 
his heart, tells them a little of Him who made and
preserves, and can destroy or save them, and ask
the open-mouthed, unintelligent throng  to join him
in prayer.  He directs an attitude and act quite
new to them,: and seeing themi all down on their
knees he closes his own eyes, and addresses a few
simple petitions to his reconciled Father in heaven;
but when  again  le looks up what does he'find?
That the occupants of the front sca ts, out of sheer
;ignorance and fiun, have crept iindmcr the benches,
__j
I
I
I
I
I
I
i
ii
I
Ii
{
i
i
II
i 
78            THE BOYS' MEETING.
till they have actually reached and stood up at the
lower end of the room, laughing at their exploit, and
as busy as may be tugging, knocking, and struggling
with each other.-Oh! hopeless crew!  Shall the
good man turn you  out, and resign his attempt?
By no means.   The ingenuity of benevolence is not
so soon spent.  He tells them if they will replace
themselves, he and his friends will siug for them,
and if they like it thiey may learn to sing too.  The
wondering and diverted mob flows back, and dis  tributes itself once more over the seats.  The good
man recites twice or thrice the words of a single
verse, and he and his associates raise a lively tune.
We have all heard what it is that music has charms
~t soothe. It is wonderful that power. After two or
three repetitions of that one verse, one and another
~ takes up the strain, till all the musical ears which
?happily are always nine tenths of any company,
have caught it, and are engaged in following the air.
Now he has got them interested-their leader says,
"if you will learn the words we will sing it to gether," and thus is the point of the wedge inserted.
Presently it is driven deeper. " Now, if you will
be quiet, I will read you a story, and then we will
sing our verse again before we part," and so perhaps
the "Prodigal Son," or " the man that fell among
I
I
l
I
I
I
lI 
THE BOYS' MTEETING.                79
thieves," is read, and at least a third listen, and the
hymn  is repeated, the blessing prayed over their
neglected heads, and off they go, amused and surprised with the novelty, and chiming the new tune,
and newer stanza as they run.
They had been somle months under training when
I saw them-steady and quiet by help of a little
admonition from their teachers, who, it was observable, did not venture to exact much mental effort
from theim.  They sung two or three hymns, answered as many questions, listened with tolerable
decency to a passage of Scripture and its explanation, and with lively interest to a narrative which
was related in a way that could not fail to fix their
minds.  They were steady at prayer, and although
I could not but observe that the distributor of thesinrging-books, took a very exact account, lest any
should be smuggled away, they were treated kindly
and respectfully, and gave kindness and respect in
return. There were many clean faces and smooth
heads, and even a few tidy suits of clothes, which
doubtless owed their origin to " the Boys' Meeting."
Some  countenances, bright and be,ming, turned
earnestly to the teachers, and gave promise  of
springing fromn the slough where they were found,
Inot only to respectability in society, but to a honme
i
I
I
i
I
i
ii
II
Ii
I
i
I
i
i
I
I
I
i
I
i 
THE BOYS' MIEETING.
beyond the skies, and to the society of just men
made perfect. It was delightful to observe hope
sustaining the good men through their labor, and
the love and energy with which they were borne
forward.
I regret not having thought of the story so as to
write it in the graphic manner in which it was told.
Its outline is this:-A  boy who feared not God, nor
obeyed his mother, set out to roam with others on
a Sabbath afternoon, several years ago-when the
spot on which we were now seated was a green field.
The field was enclosed by a ragged paling, with
here and there an upright plank. On one of these
planks was written in chalk, "Remember  the Sabbath-day to keep it holy." The boy observed the
words. They smote his conscience,-he feared to
go on, but was ashamed to tell his companions why
he turned back, so he gradually dropt behind and
slipt away.  The tale went on, how a kind person
invited him to go to church, how he afterwards went
voluntarily to school-how he was apprenticed, and
pleased his master by his truth and industry-and
how at last, taking pity on boys who might not see
a chalk text on the paling as he had done, he had
now become a Sabbath-school teacher.  He left the
"Boys' IMeeting" to draw any infereince it pleased,
II
80 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
but one might guess the inference was that the person spoken of was their kind teacher himself.
As  we  entered the door of this meeting, two
little fellows who were seated on the steps, were invited by the visitors to go up to school. They replied quite civilly, "So they would if they found it
suited."'" Nay, now, no fear of its suiting, just
comue with me.'" 1  We will see' about it."  "What
need to wait and see about it, conice along now."
"We will come if we find it convenient."   " But
please to go up with me, I am a stranger, you can
show me the door." They arose, and one pointing,
said, "I would go up if it were necessary, but it is
the first door, you can't miss it."  The quiet independence of the little chaps was a mark of national
character. A Scotch boy would have run away, or
said something impudent if he were resolved to refuse.   The American had made up his mind, and
merely stated it with perfect civility. My curiosity
was excited, and by watching I made out their
reason.   A  band of Odd  Fellows with  all their
quaint array of flags, belts, music, and all the profane bustle with which they disturb the Sabbathday, was expected to return from a funeral. They
came presently. and when a rush of boys came into
school after the pageant had passed, my resolute
6
I
I
81 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
acquaintances having seen what tlhey had made up
their minds to wait   for, 11found it convenient" to
come up also.  Does the superior courtesy of the
less cultivated classes arise from the sober certainty
that you cannot in fact interfere or constrain thcm,
so that, a I don't feel like doing  it," is the quiet
reply, instead of the Scotch "what is your business," or, " what need you care whether I do it or
not?"
In this meeting we saw the encouraging results of
a few months' labor. In another quarter of the
city g gihilar meeting, which had been convened for
two years, exhibited a much advanced condition.
There were girls and female teachers, as well as boys
and males.   The hand of industry and kindness was
visible. Neat, clean, and cheerful was the pleasant
crowd.   Many a tunic was there which had been
"Turnled upside down, and outside in,
And made a braw new cotie of."
And many a cap, bonnet, and frock, reminded one
of Burns' mother, " wi' her shears, who made auld
things look a' maist as guid as new." This order
and comfort among the garments is the result of the
united contributions and industry of the female
teachers, and many a complacent eye ran over a row
82 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
of little scholars fitted up for the school by means
of many hours of labor. It was Christmas-day, so
the recitations were rather more of a discursive na ture than on the Sabbath, but all of useful tendency.
There were interspersed hymns sweetly sung, and
passages of Scripture remarkably well recited. The
toil of collecting the children, and the responsibilities
of teaching themn have for their incentive Christian
love alone, seeking neither fee nor reward save that
of seeing the children walk in the truth. And when
we know, that two years before they were as wild
and rough as uncared-for children could be, even the
present fruit of the labor was a most pleasing reward.
I understood the female teachers met occasionally
to make clothing in concert, while one read aloud
-an excellent refreshing sociality, not exercised by
fine ladies, who might leave their embroidery to
unite in this way-but some who had hastened
through domestic cares, to procure the time, and
others who had passed the regular number of hours
in teaching in the Common Schools.
Sustaining the Sabbath Schools is with many
church-members, a duty observed with as much care
as any private devotional exercise. On remarking
to a zealous teacher that one could hardly hope Sen
il
83 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
ator A. or Governor B. to have leisure from their
duties, political and public, to attend still to their
class, for they must enjoy the repose of the Sabbath;
I felt justly rebuked by the hearty reply, "Why,
Madam, don't you believe the teaching hours are
nearly the most refreshing hours of the week?"
and so it is. Wherever the mollifying power of the
religion of Jesus is felt, there flows into the heart
with it a spirit of hopeful benevolence, which turns
the man into the protector of the feeble, and the ele vator of the neglected and debased. Be he Senator,
Governor, or City Missionary, his object and his pur suits will, allowing for difference of circumstances,
be the same, and none will be found too low to sink
beyond his loving effort, none too debased, to pass
the line of his faith and hope-as witness Mr. Pease
at the Five Points. Its rows of miserable dwellings,
whose creaking stairs, broken palings, and rag-stuff  ed window-panes, sufficiently indicate that honest and
cheerful industry have long since fled the precinct,
while its dull and besotted, or loud and brazen ten ants, render it prudent for a respectable female to
seek protection in threading its streets in broad da.
(Yet there has Christian benevolence raised its hope  ful standard, and there have some immortals been
84 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
lifted from the depths, and entered on the path that
leads to peace.?
The process of c        ommencement, as related by the
zealous operator, is worthy of a record. He was
Missionary of the District, and many a day his heart
fainted as he toiled from den to den, and found none
to care for his Scripture readings, none to accept
his tracts, none to value his prayers.   " We  are
hungry-give us bread-away with your preaching!"
"Why  don't you work?"  One profligate replies,
" My  eyes are dim."   Another, "Me  work! if I
could do it, who would trust me with it?" " I will,
if you will come to me at the room in the corner of
C      Street to-morrow morning." The new idea had
entered the man's mind, and his almost electric energy
was instantly applied. His room was opened, and the
necessary preparations made. A few poor shaken,
miserable women dropt in; and poor work they made
of it, yet the effort was wholesome. After the day
advanced a little, their employer said, " Now, I will
pay you for what you have done, that you may go
and buy your breakfasts; and if you return and
work again, you shall have what will procure your
dinners." This went on, and presently little children hung about the door, peeping in at their mothers, and morsels of the purchased meal were shared
Io
85 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
with them. Immediately the mercurial mind seized
another new idea.  "Little ones, if you will wash
your faces and hands, and smooth your hair, and be
as neat as you can, you may come to me to-morrow,
and we will begin Infant School," and thus shot
forth a new branch from the prolific stem.
By and bye some of the sempstresses fell into
their old snare of inebriety, and when searched for
by their faithful friend, whose hope seemed imperishable, they told him, if he would lodge and take
care of them they would be kept, but they could not
escape if they returned at night to their old neighbors.   Here sprung forth another branch.  With
such friends as he could raise, the philanthropist
has added room to room, till in the spring of 1851
he had three houses, with communications enabling
him and his wife to pass through them all, and locks
preventing the passage and too free communication
with the inmates.
At his Sabbath-school many parents and other
grown people are auditors.  He pointed out several
who were seated before us, and mentioned to what
condition of wretchedness and misery they had sunk.
All the cases were very interesting. One we select
as an example:-A still strong and rather fair man,
whose hair began to exhibit a streak of silver, and
I
86 
THE BOYS' MiEETING.
whose face recently weathler-beaten was now placid
and pleasant, and who had the air of a decayed gen tleman, was seated near a class, listening eagerly to
the instructions of its teacher.  He had conme to
Mr. Pease at night, anrd begged to be admitted to
the Inebriate's Retreat.   I-e was requested to return in the morning, as a test of his being desirous
of anything more than a night's shelter. He did
return, one sleeve wanting from his coat, shoes that
would not stay on his feet, no stockings, or neckcloth, and a miserable glazed cap on his head. Yet
withal somewhat of an air and address about the
man showed he had lived in other society and seen
calmer days.  "1Where have you been?"   " I don't
know."   "Where  do  you  come  from?2"   " Nowhere."  "Why, where is your home?"'  "I have
none."   " Where  do you sjeep?"  " Any where."
" Tit, man! where did you sleep last night?"  " On
the steps of the City Hall." " And where the
night  before?"   " On  a bench in  the  Park."
" What is it you wish?"  " To be taken in here and
reformed-I have nothing else between  ine and
death-a miserable, a drunkard's death." lIe was
taken in: bathed, purified, medicated, and, after a
few days of repose, he was asked what hlie could do
to maintain himself. He had been once a respecta
I
I
I
87 
88            THE BOYS' MEETING.
ble bookseller in England.  His last employment in
New York had been the sale of stationery from
door to door. He was trusted with a dollar, laid it
out in stationery, and returned at night gladly to
deposit his earnings with Mr. Pease.   When I saw
himn he continued still iu the protection of that retreat.  Had paid for all his clothing, and now paid
his weekly board regularly, and laid up something
with which to begin the world, as soon as he could
trust himself out of doors.   Clothed  and in his
right mind, taking an intelligent interest in all the
exercises of the school, he was a pleasant sight to
see.
At the risk of being thought prosy, I venture to
relate the history of another inmate of this Noah's
Ark at the Five Points. A stout, burly, red-haired
man sat in that school-room with a child on his knee.
He had presented himself at the retreat, desolate
and wretched, some months before, had gone through
the cleansing and cooling process, hired himself out
to labor, and brought home his earnings to pay his
board. After some time, a woman came in search
of him. He had been lost, and she laden with a
babe, and a very heavy heart, had sought northward
in Boston and southward in Philadelphia, but in
vain. At last she traced him, and told her story to 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
Mr. Pease. Hle sent for the man, and conversed
with him  apart.   "Are  you  married?"  "Yes."
"Where is your wife?"  "I don't know."    That
is strange-why did you part from her?"  " I forsook her when I forsook myself."   "And are you
content that it should be so?"  " Content! No."
Mr. Pease went out and brought in the child, who
trotted across the floor. The man gazed-the little
thing could walk —he was uncertain-at last nature's instinct guided him to the truth.  " That is
my child!"7 he cried, and snatched him to his bosom.
The reconciliation was not difficult to be brought
about, and now he supports his family under the
wing of Mr. Pease. It was pleasant to see the big
man nurse the little one so tenderly till at last it
fell asleep, and he resting the head against his
broad breast, arose gently and carried it out of the
school-room.
In the upper story of that strange wild extempore retreat, I found a Bible-class of womennearly thirty, two of them from poor old Scotland,
all on their knees around a dear Christian lady who
regularly passed her Sabbath afternoons amongst
them. I also found both the junior and senior
Sabbath-schools well filled.
It strikes one used to the close teaching of the
I
i
89 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
Holy Scriptures and Shorter Catechism, that there
was rather too little Scripture and too much hymnsinging. And also, that there is a danger of treating abstinence from drunkenness as if it were the
very rock of salvation.  However, no stranger, even
after a third visit, can judge of the position, and
capabilities, and necessities of the people-and taken
as a whole, the resolute principle which has assembled upwards of seventy persons, young and old,
providing safe lodging for some, work for others,
and instruction for a large band of otherwise neglected and forsaken children, is much to be honored, and ought to be sustained, lest the good man
faint by the wayz On looking back to those dreary
and disgusting haunts, the three houses at the corner seem like the leaven hid in the three measures
of meal. Would that they might abide there till
the whole is leavened.
A young friend went to ascertain the exact position of the school, before he conducted me there.
He inquired of a policeman which was the house,
and was advised to address some young women
standing in the street, who would show it him round
the corner. The prudent inquirer hesitated about
speaking to women in such a locality, when the
policeman said, "A  year since I would not have
I
90
I -e 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
advised you, but you need not fear to speak to
them now." A pleasant testimony to the correct ing influence already emanating from this Christian
establishment.
On last Thanksgiving day, Nov. 27, 1851, seven teen of the hotels in the city provided a dinner of
roast beef and turkeys, for the Five Points Mission,
which was partaken of first, by the Sunday-scholars,
after by the day-scholars, and finally the remnants
were sufficient to satisfy a band  of "outsiders,"
who are not regular attendants at the school. The
whole numbered 425. They were waited on by
their teachers and other gentlemen. They sung
"the Hiappy Land," that never-failing song of children, and afterwards, by way of returning thanks
for their food, "From all that dwell below the
skies,"
It goes right to the heart to see, hear, and feel,
the unity of pursuit of our two countries. The
same plans-the same motives-the same Biblenay, even the same hymns lisped by the infants.
Is there not much more to unite Great Britain and
America than there ever ought to be to divide
them?
In America as in Britain, Christian exertion is
ever engaged in a race against ignorance and misery
91 
THE BOYS' MEETING.
-and ignorance and misery are ever keeping ahead
of Christian exertion.
But the runners though beaten, follow on " faint
yet pursuinlg." And though not accomplishing all
they hope for, nor the hundredth part of what they
see is needed, yet they gain victories, and their
hearts are cheered-for when a wreath is plucked
from the thronging and flying squadrons, it is a
wreath of amaranth-it will bloom in eternity.
92 
OBSERVING how easily and frankly children are
adopted in the United States, how pleasantly the
scheme goes on, and how little of the wormwood of
domestic jealousies, or the fretting prickle of neighbor          criticisms seems to interfere with it, one is led
to inquire why the benevolent practice is so common there, and so rare in England, and also so
pleasant t here and so difficult here.   The first
reason that presents itself is, that in England we
have not an abundance of food and of unoccupied
roonm but in America it is different, for, according
to the burden of a song sung by the colored orphans
in their asylum at New York,
" Uncle Sam* is rich enough
To give us all a farm."
The facility with which enough, and more than
enough, is found to satisfy eivery hungry mouth on
* A quaint name for the United States.
I
'Auftth (fit~thru. 
ADOPTED CHILDREN.
a farm, gives wonderful scope to the benevolent
sentiment. Compassion needs but to well up at its
spring in the heart, and there is no counter-current
of prudence to sweep it away. The wish can be
accomplished without a sense of privation, and if
the adopted turn out well, it becomes all pure gain,
-gain in the exercise of the affections, in the pleasure which always arises from doing a kind thing,
and in a fresh hand growing up to aid in their industry. This latter reason, however, is only of
weight among the sons of labor, who are quite as
ready to adopt a child as the wealthy. In Britain,
probably, the second impediment is our remnant of
feudalism-the right of primogeniture, or the law
of inheritance. The " heir at law," be he son,
nephew, or cousin ten times removed, feels that the
owner holds his property only in trust for himself,
and looks with a jealous eye on the emotion of pity
that might introduce an interloper to be provided
for from the family funds. It is marvellous to observe how many are fettered by the law, and how
very many more adopt the fetter of custom produced by the law, and fancy they act in the line of
duty when they pass by an opportunity of kindness
which they might have gladly embraced, but that
the expectant kindred may be displeased.
I- 
i
94 
ADOPTED CHILDREN.
Even when children are adopted in England, instances are to be seen of reserve among common
acquaintances to admit them, and receive them as
they would the children of the family.-A piece of
injustice, and want of sympathy with a benevolent
deed which seems without motive or excuse.
The first examples I saw of this practice of adoption made niy heart as full of glad surprise as might
be that of the mother in the tribe of Levi, when the
Princess of Egypt gathered her babe from the bulrushes, and ordered himn to be nursed. To look on
a nice curly-headed little thing, whose parents had
died of fever, or in crossing the ocean from a far
country, tended and cared for. and nestling under a
kind arm, unconscious that it was not a mother's, is
very charming.-To hear of a childless pair agreeing to go among the orphans, and select one from
the asyluma, and begin their charge by having it baptized; and to learn that their brother and his wife,
who lives near, are so taken with this little one's
winning ways, that they are resolved to have their
childless home also enlivened, and have taken that
orphan's own brother, and are now each and all enjoying their prize, is quite delightful.
The novelty of the plan led me to inquire very
carefully as to its results, and the statement was,
i
I
I
95 
ADOPTED CHILDREN.
that if one in a hundred tired or failed to do by the
adopted, as they would have done by their own, it
was but one in the hundred.
In the city of Boston we found two excellent
sisters, who not being able to gratify their benevolence by assuming the charge of little ones, had ingeniously discovered a mode of help still more extended. —Carlyle found it an unsolvable problem
how to bring the quantity of ready-made shirts and
the shirtless together, but these dear ladies have
found out a way by which they introduce the friendless to the friendly, and the fatherless to the childless.
Their  monthly publication called  "The   Orplian's Advocate" is interesting, simple, and truthlike. They publish the age, and sex of the children
in one column, and the places where children are
wanted in another, for example:
n HOMES FOR CHILDREN.
In Cuwrtisville a boy will be adopted ten years old.
In Leominster, a girl will be adopted eight years
old.
In  Great Ba,rrington, a girl will be adopted
about twelve years old."
The list extends to twenty-six; then comes
96 
ADOPTED CHILDREN.
s; CHILDREN NEEDIN(G HOMES.
A girl five years old.
A boy eleven years old.
A girl two years old.
A boy two years old.
An infant girl four months old; also an infant
girl eight months old;" the list extends to twentyeight.
A  paragraph unique in its simplicity and peculiarity we quote as a perfect curiosity in Great
Britain  it and the above lists are found in the
"Orphan's Advocate,"' published in Boston, March,
1851.
;; WHO WILL FIND THE CHILD.
"Among the many good places for children, we
know a superior one for an infant boy twenty
months old to fill the vacancy left by the death of
an infant of that age in a family of prosperous
people. If we mistake not the child should have
light eyes and hair; an orphan would be preferred."
The solitary number of the Orphan's Advocate
within reach, contains various touching passages;
here is a sample:
; INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN.
Many a ray of sunshine has a child shed into a
7
I
I
97 
ADOPTED CHILDREN.
dark heart. Childhood softens the selfishness of
age, and bids the frozen sympathies gush out.Who has never felt that he had reason to bless
children for what they have done for him?
Many orphans owe their happy homes to the influence of other children. We have known instances
when a child has persuaded its parents to adopt a
little orphan —They have persuaded others to do
the same.-They read of the little ones, who need
homes, and they seek homes for them."
4c CHILDREN'S SYMPATHY FORP, ORPHANS.
Children frequently sympathize deeply with
orphan children. There are no objects for whom
their hearts are so easily or deeply enlisted. We
have been frequently told of children who read over
regularly the list of children needing homes, in the
Orphan's Advocate, and manifest great interest for
them."
These excellent Misses Fellowes enlist the services of the benevolent to 1' search out the children."
Besides having ten travelling agents, part male and
part female, they urge them not to overlook the
poor-houses.  " Shall we not," say they, "have our
poor-houses emptied of their young inmates?  Shall
Massachusetts, shall any State in the Union bear
ii
11
98
f 
ADOPTED CHILDREN.
upon its brow the curse of young humanity neglected? The older poor can speak for themselves, the
younger cannot; but their cry goes up to God., who
hears and knows, and who will recompense good or
evil to those who search out, or refuse or neglect to
search out, the little ones, and see that their wants are
supplied."  "Applications, especially for young children to be taken by adoption, are becoming daily more
numerous."  "Our friends will need to be diligent in
looking up the destitute little ones, so that there may
be a constant supply for those whom this increasing
interest shall lead to seek to become foster parents."
I have been assured that the success of this plan
is unfailing, and that its benevolent inventors are
greatly encouraged to proceed.
One instance of adoption touched me deeply on
many accounts.  In the graveyard of the first Presbyterian Church in Elizabethtown, the monument is
found which tells the dismal story of the deaths of
Mr. Caldwell, once pastor of that flock, and of his
wife. She was shot, with her babe in her arms,
th'eough the window of her own house, by ravening
soldiers in search of plunder. He encountered a
similar fate more than a year after, when exerting
himself like a Christian patriot in the service of his
countr5At Ay.d T
I
.i
I
I
I
I
I
i
99 
ADOPT]ED CHILDREN.
Such deeds have ieft scars which are calculated to
excite national spleen, and such monuments, records
so sadly true, aid ii frettinrg and keeping it alive.
Nine children were by these deeds of cold murder
left unprotected. After the funeral, the Hon. Elias
Boudnot ranged the bereaved offspring around the
remains of their father: and with that speaking spectacle before the eyes of a crowd of mourners, asked
which of themil was going to fulfil the divine promise, that the seed of the righteous shall not be forsaken? which would embrace the opportunity of
proving that they valued their patriotic friend and
faithful pastor? which would from these forsaken
ones rear citizens worthy of their parents?  "For
my share," said the noble man, " I select this boy
for mine. and engage before you, my fellow-citizens,
and under the eye of heaven, to rear and train him
as my own son, and may our God give his blessing."
There was a solemn pause.   Many an eye brimful
was turned from the dead father to the fatherless
little flock. One and another stepped forward and
led forth an orphan, till all the nine found parents;
and, with the exception of one unsettled character,
whose act was that of fleeting emotion, and not of
Christian resolution, and who in a short time rettra d.h  ekhosen child to its friends, no one failed
J
I
I
100 
ADOPTED CHILDREN.
of their engagements. Nor did the Father of mercies fail of his  they turned out excellent citizens,
who served their country, or who became the mothers of those who serve it now; and nearly-may I
not say all -came forth in life as real Christians,
the petitions which their parents left behind being
answered when they had passed by their stormy
deaths to the world of eternal peace. And that rejected and returned one was, if I remember right,
the very one afterwards chosen by General La Fayette, carried to France, and furnished with the most
complete and accomplished education which Parisian
skill could offer to sound ability. He returned to
do his country signal services in the walks of literature, piety, and philanthropy.
Two of this group of early mourners still survive,
one of whom holds an honorable place in the General Post Office at Washington. And it was a Caldwell of the third generation that did me the great
kindness to introduce me to President Fillmore.
No plan of charity, when performed in a right
spirit, seems more calculated to do good and to receive a blessing, than this. It is a feeble imitation
of the manner of the Father of us all; for we, fallen
beings, are aliens and parentless until through atoning mercy and converting grace we becomrne the
I
I
101 
ADOPTED CHILDREN.
adopted children of our God, and then we are partakers of his love, and heirs of the heavenly inheritance.
Doubtless amid the many, some of the kind purposes are frustrated-some of the parents tire, as in
the case of the little Caldwell-and some of the
children disappoint and wound, but these cases are
the exceptions.
I have seen the parties dwelling harmoniously and
helpfully together; and I have seen the adopted,
in the old age of the adopter, exercising all the tender cherishing that filial piety could devise. There
is a beauty in the pleasing sympathies thus exercised,
for there is a blessing on them from on high.
I
102 
cr;u II    Iigitk  $     u:I.
THOTUGHI the engagements of past years led me
more to concern myself with the education of the
working classes, and the friendless, it was impossible
to dwell among the cultivated and refined without
being desirous of learning somewhat of the plant
by which they had been educated.
Most of the Female Institutes seem to be under
the guidance of men, or of a man and his wife. when
it is understood that most of the solid parts of instruction are conducted by the head of the house.
This is a plan not followed in England, and in various cases, when a husband happens to be in existence, he is generally felt to be an incumnbrance to
the household rather than an assistant.  Professors
who, it is presumed, are well qualified to teach the
one object of their pursuit, attend at stated hours
with us.  But, judging by advertisements, it would
seem that husband and wife teach and manage in
unison all over the United States. It is customary
II
r. 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
to deliver lectures on Astronomy, Botany, Chemistry,
&c., to the pupils in both countries, and it is possible
that some expansion of mind is thus obtained, even
when no real thirst for knowledge induces the pupils to follow up the subjects by private study.
In some of the Female Institutes in America, a
plan is pursued which, with the exception of the
Normal School students, has not yet been adopted
in Britain, within my knowledge.   The  students
" graduate" after  strict examination  on  various
branches of learning-a useful and important mark
of a certain degree of attainment, the absence of
which is often felt with us on occasion of selecting
teachers. The graduating is by no means a nominal
or slight affair, but is accomplished only on the candidate being able to meet a searching inquiry into
her attaininents.
Nevertheless, as it happens at homne, persons
whose previous education and habits have not been
calculated to fit them for the office, and whose chief
qualification is present misfortune, frequently assume the office of instructors.  In consequence it at
times occurs that the benevolence of parents interferes with their judgments in the choice of a school
and sometimes a dash of romance or pathos, or elegance of manner, carries the day against substantial
II
104 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.                105
attainments and conscientious industrious instruction.  One learns in every country to defide "picturesquish" programmes, and to fear the solid instruction of strings of young ladies who are carried
about to fashionable lectures and evening concerts.
To have judged by the unsteady attendance at
school, and the little solicitude observable among
the young people about preparing for their classes,
to say nothing of the wilful speechles, such as,' Mama, I don't feel like studying French any more;"
or, " Ma, I am going to drop mathematics, they are
so tiresome " one would suppose there are many imperfectly educated women. But meet them grown
up, engaged in the useful pursuits of life and you
will find well-informed, cultivated, refined minds,
strong in their sense of right and pursuit of duty.
Ask them of their early years and you will find they
were nearly as idle as their children seem to be, and
then you must draw the conclusioni that their wilfulness is only seeming or vanquished while it is yet
time, and that they acquire as much  amid their
springy, vivid ways as we do in our more sedate and
careful fashion.
The means of education extend continually with
the need of it. Yet as food, shelter, and clothing
form the most imperative necessaries of life, each
I
I 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
new settlement must first secure these, leaving the
mental and spiritual supplies to lag behind, and
overtake these as they best may. Taking pity on the
uninstructed condition of the settlers around them,
some young gentlemen have begun to give an hour
or two of evening teaching to their young neighbors.
Some have employed themselves during the winter
months in that benevolent exercise. Some have collected Sabbath-schools, and in a few cases, the log
school-house has formed the nucleus of a church,
where, at last when the population thickens, a church
is erected, a minister of Christ appears, and next
comes the colporteur with his load of good books,
and a library is formed. How sound is the patriotism, how true the benevolence which, amidst the
earnest pursuits of present advantage, step aside
from the tumult and the cares of life to enter on
such engagements as these!  And  how happy the
man who falls on that era of his new district's culti
vation which enables him to be the founder of use
ful institutions, which will continue to bless the land
when he is resting from his labors! His stock-intrade for this kind of usefulness need not be brilliancy of genius, nor high attainment, but simply
common sense, with some power of arrangement,
and a heart to love his neighbor.
I
106 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
It is not for me to tell of college halls and professors.   The names of the first, and the faces or
writings of many of the others, are familiar to students in Britain, yet it is pleasant to recall the
shades of Yale, the more than half venerable aspect
of a portion of its numerous edifices —the extent
and excellent order of its museum —the countenances of learned men, and their portraits in its
picture gallery, and the interest excited by the living men who study and walk its academic groves.
The hours passed at Princeton also, amid the courtesies and hospitalities of the venerable Dr. Alexander, are amongst the hoarded gems of memory. —
A powerful interest hangs around that aged man so
true of heart, so distinct of mind, so affable of manner. He is full of Christian sympathies, and ready
to communicate, so that you require but to put an
inquiry and he flows out whether the subject be a
thing of sixty years since or of yesterday, and it is
your own fault if you are not the wiser for his communings.   Perhaps  others  may  have remarked,
what added much to the interest that cleaves to the
demeanor of this excellent gentleman —his strong
resemblance to Wilberforce.   Though much more
bulky, yet the figure is like that of a twin-brother.
— His manner of sitting in his easy chair, of speak
107 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
ing, of smiling, and above all his ready way of giving information,, and his edifying Christian remarks,
showed a resemblance both in the mould and in the
jewel withlin.
Princeton! with  its troops  of  busy  students,
with its historical memnorials of battles, showing
still with pride the frame, now encircling a portrait
of Washington, but once occupied by a portrait of
George II., which was hit by a cannon-ball in the
hall where it hung. —Princeton, with its lecture
rooms, and libraries, and above all, with its row of
monuments, over the tombs of departed presidents,
* How touchingly are those remembrances deepened in
pathos by the tidings just arrived, that the Patriarch is
with Abraham and Moses, and all the prophets, in glory.
It is true he has reached thle consummation of his faith and
hope, but then his family have lost him-his students have
lost him. Princeton will see his face no more. The church
will never again appeal to his wisdom  and  experience.
America must number him with her patriots, and heroes,
and divines, whlo have departed-and I a passing stranger,
while I prize the more the privilege of having seen him,
feel but the more keenly, that the anticipated  "passing
away," has begun. One leaves a country where admiration, respect, and love have been awakened, with the conviction that we shall see the faces of most of these estimable persons no more; and that while one's own life lasts,
the tidings will come ever and anon, that one and another
has entered into rest, and left ourselves and the world the
poorer.
I
108 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
amongst whom  lie Witherspoon  and  Edwards.Princeton seems to surpass most spots in that
young country in its claims to classic veneration.
It is a gratification not to be forgotten, to have seen
and heard the dwellers there, and to have trodden
their familiar pathways; but they have been  described many times already.
Colleges multiply rapidly, and seem pretty fairly
dispersed over the face of the country. In 1800
there were only twenty-five.  Drs. Reed and Matheson, in 1835, found ninety-six colleges, and nine
thousand and thirty-two students. Dr. Baird. in
1851, stated before the Evangelical Alliance, in
London, that the number of colleges in the United
States amounted to one hundred and twenty. That
these suffice for the wants of so wide a dominion, or
that they are all equally sound in principle, or successful in teaching, cannot be said; yet the zeal and
energy which has raised so many seminaries of
learning, some even in districts which are scarcely
cleared of the forest, and where the raising of bread
requires the first effort, proves that some members
of the community feel keenly the intellectual and
spiritual wants of the country. It is also very
striking to observe. that however little it was impressed on the minds of some founders of these
109 
COLLEGIATE SCIIOOLS.
seminaries, that they ought to be vehicles for conveying Christian views to their alum.ni, yet nearly
the whole of them have so far yielded to the principles which touch conscience and control thought, as
to accept of religious teachin,g.
It has been remarked, that of the three colleges
whose founders openly repudiated revealed truth
and Christian principle from their scheme, two of
them have already been glad to adopt the opinions
they have contemned, as the only method by which
they could rule their students, and guide their professors.  Shut their eyes as they mluay against the
sight of the divine economy which is established
for the restoration of an apostate world, yet they
are made to feel the powers of the world to come,
and the workings of a spiritual kingdom within and
around them which they cannot shake off. Cooper's
College; in South Carolina, and Jefferson's, in Virginia, are of those marked with the stigma of "no
religion," yet they have been gradually led to admit religious Professors as their teachers, and have
thereby found good order and peace much promoted.
It was very pleasing, in looking over the long
rows of orphan boys in the Girard College, at
Philadelphia, to know that the purpose of the man
who left his gold (for he could carry nothing away
110 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
with him) for their benefit, had been so far frustrated.
His very magnificent marble halls, which, according to his last will and testament, are not: on any
pretence whatever, to be polluted by the footstep
of a Minister of the Gospel, were in the first instance placed under the control of an excellent
lawyer who resigned his seat on the bench, that he
might bring Christian verities before those orphans.
It is pleasant to think of that holy man's exertions,
of his reading the word of God, and of his prayers
in those noble halls where it was designed they
should be prohibited,-of his regular family worship there, and his oral instruction of those lively
and promising young people-and now, though circumstances have led to his resignation of that
onerous position, his commencement has left an influence behind him stronger than that of him who
held and who bequeathed the gold.
There is something in the soul of man, be it
superstition if you will, that readily adopts an impression of interference from the invisible world in
the case of any daring transgressor. People, to
this day, shake the head and tell gravely or fearfully how Grierson of Lagg, the bloody persecutor
of the Dumfrieshire and Galloway covenanters,
I
I
I
ill 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
could not get carried to his grave-how the hearse
three times broke down, and how the people trembled at the token, and could not be prevailed on to
touch it. It may have been a similar connection
with the recollection of poor Girard's ostentatious
working of his garden in sight of church-goersthe Sabbath being the only day of the week on
which he assumed the hoe and rake-that produced
this curious paragraph from the Philadelphia correspondent of the New York Tribune:" On  the
night that the remains of Stephen Girard were disinterred and conveyed to the undertaker's residence, previous to being deposited in Girard College, the coffin was to be opened in the presence of
several persons. As they were about removing the
lid, a slight explosion was heard and combustible
gas escaped from the inner case. No damage resulted, however, except a slight scorching of the
coffin-lid. It is not known whether the fear of
ghosts had anything to do with it, but it is certain
that the occurrence caused the room to be vacated
in the shortest possible time!"
It is earnestly to be desired, whatever may have
been the designs of the founders, that all such institutions may be overruled to train up citizens to
fear God and hate evil.
112 
COLLEGIATE  SCHOOLS.               113
It has been well for Amnerica, and its effects are
visible on her educational institutions up to this
hour, that her "world's gray Fathers" were not adventurers in search of wealth, but men of wisdom
n search of liberty of conscience. In the earliest
settlement of the New England Colonies, laws were
enacted by which all townships were obliged to
secure  education  to their young members.   In
eases where no government aid, or contribution
rom the mother country could be obtained, individual zeal and learning have wrestled with difficulty in a manner alike surprising and honorable.
Dr. A. Alexander's history of the " Log College,"
which the senior William Tennant commenced during his ministry at Neshaming, N. J., gives a lively
view of what may be accomplished single-handed;
and the galaxy of holy pastors who issued from that
rhumble edifice to bless the land, and to co-operate
with Whitefield in his life-bringing labors, was an
enlightening to the State, and a rich reward to the
Founder. The " Log College," like its founder, has
passed away, and given place to grander buildings
and more dignified staffs of professors; but the mark
of its vital piety, which shook the dead ministers and
the formal worshippers from their sloth, remains and
continues to descend to the present generation.
Some Colleges arc founded and sustained entirely
F
i
I
i
i
i
I
I
i
I
i
I
i
II
II
I 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
by particular denominations-such as Princeton,
which is Presbyterian;  New Brunswick, which is
Dutch Reformed. Others derive some aid from the
State; for example, Cambridge at Boston, and Yale
at New Haven, which are both congregational in government; but I fear Cambridge is Unitarian in
faith.
States often found Universities; as in Virginia,
North and South Carolina, Vermont, Michigan, &c.
&c.  But the State Institutions are not always
found to be the best, and often meet with difficulties
in the  management.   The  General Government
grants lands to the new States for Colleges and
Common Schools, so that they are provided with the
means of instruction from their commencement,
though to arrange the machinery, and to set it
agoing, often requires an impulse from intelligent
benevolence.
An experiment has been tried in a few of the
Western Establishments, which is thought by those
most conversant with them, to work prosperouslythe combination of manual labor with study; giving
three hours a day to printing, cabinet work, or farming. Lane Seminary, near Cincinnati, which could
receive a hundred young men, is the scene where this
novel plan seems to have most prospered.   But
in Illinois, Indiana, and New York, plans nearly
I
114 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
similar are pursued, but with vaaying success. Many
reasons concur to make this a most suitabl e plan in
a certain condition of society, especially for preparing
missionaries and mninisters for new and rough settlements.   The very great majority of those to whom
the gospel is to be preached, are not persons of refined manners, but such as earn their daily bread by
daily toil. When a young man of good natural
powers amongst them comes under strong religious
impressions, and desires to become a teacher of his
brethren, on the old plan of all study he is exposed
to loss of health by a complete overturn of his early
habits, and is probably by his new pursuit reduced
to a state of dependence; whereas, on the manual
labor plan, he secures three hours of exercise, and
nearly, if not entirely, supports himself. His hours
of study will be all the more vigorous, that his hours
of relaxation have been usefully employed; and his
manners, he being a Christian, will not be in any
degree roughened by such an engagement. If some
of our own students had such means of aiding themselves, we should not have so many enter their ministerial lives enfeebled by unrelaxed, and perhaps
poorly fed years of study; neither would they enter
on their rustic charges less honored, or less suited to
encounter country hardships.
I
115 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
On Long Island I met with a Missionary whose
scene of toil had been for some years among the
new settlers in Ohio.  HIe talked of going from one
preaching station to another on foot, leaping fromnt
one knob of solid ground to another in a morass,
and of being wet through when he reached his post,
with no prospect of dry raiment, except as the wet
steamed up from his person before a huge fire.  And
when he asked if he could have some hot tea, the mistress disappeared in the wood, and presently returned
with a lapful of herbs, which she infused in boiling
water and gave him to drink. Her husband not
having got home from the distant mill, she could
not make him a cake; and indeed the shrunk, bald
old man mlight have been painted for Shakspeare's
starving apothecary. Had his years of preparation
been passed in the luxuries of College halls, he
would have endured this very hard life much worse
than he did.  He spoke of having rejoiced to find
a nook beside the blazing hearth of two active young
men who welcomed him and his message, the description of whose menage is strange to those unused to
the hardships encountered during the first season
by settlers in the "Far West."  Their large log
dwelling had two doors opposed to each other near
the end where was the fire-place.  When they wish
116 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
ed to replenish their wide hearth, they felled and
stript a tree of its branches and yoked a horse to it,
which drew it to the proper centre of the fire-place,
where the chain was taken off, and it was left to be
consumled at leisure with the help of its lopped
branches, the horse making his way out by the other
door!
Some of the Home Missionaries endure equal
privations and hardships with those who expose
themnselves on foreign shores and in savage islands,
without the e6clat and sympathy which accompany
the foreign missionary, and without being so well
provided for. Here was a specimen. One could
nct but look with reverence on the hoary-headed
and weather-beaten man whose heart, full of the invisible treasure, could not rest unless he might, by
many a toilsome effort, convey that treasure to the
ignorant and famishing.
But while a nation extended and varied as
America is, has much use for manual labor Students, and while these are as well read in divinity,
and, having the first grand essential of being themselves regenerated men —as competent teachers as
others, it does not prevent those who have means
and appliances from embracing a more extended
range of study, or from exercising architectural
I
117 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
taste and raising beautiful buildings at many of
their seats of learning.   Of these, the most beautiful-one wing of which is riot yet finished-is the
Smithsonian  Institution at Washington.  It has
been erected by the bequeathed wealth of Mr.
Smithson, an Englishman, whose Lgenerous wish was
to place a magnificent library, museum, gallery of
paintings, geographical and chenmical apparatus, together with a noble lecture-room within reach of
the statesmen of the great Republic. The gold of
the edifice is English, but the art Amierican.   Two
chambers which are finished and occupied, are said
to be in the style of the Escurial, and are handsome  and perfect in their beauty.   Mr.  Jamnes
Renwick, the rising architect, calls the order pure
Norman;  it does certainly, not come within any of
the old Greek orders of architecture, and if Norman be its name it is very fine.  The rich mellow
lilac-brown of the stone, contrasting finely with the
noble gray base and white superstructure of the
Capitol and the rather weather-stained marble of
the Post Office and the White House.
The Professors in all Colleges are appointed by
trustees, whether they be endowed by their States or
by private benevolence, and scholarships are frequent,
as they are at Oxford or Cambridge, and as bursaries
118 
COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS.
are in Scotland. They are usually the result of'
private and Christian munificence.
It would seemni that all the world over, study and
learning do not form the path to wealth, and those
who wish to encourage learning and literature must
give of their abundance to fill the student's lamp,
and to cheer him in his pursuit, which, while it
possesses hidden delights, scarcely furnishes the
necessaries of life.
i
i
i
i
I
I
I
I
i
I
i
119 
AMONGsT the many errors which are corrected
by closer intercourse with the citizens of the UJnited
States, one of the most prominent is the general
impression received in England of their tendency
to boasting. Their high animal spirits which induce them to express the very same self-approving
sentiments which we may entertain, although we
prudently keep them secret — their lively emotions,
whether of patriotism, friendship, or domestic affection, which are played on as the bosom of a lake is
played on by zephyr, while ours are deep and still
except when moved to strong and resolute expression — their sanguine temperament so buoyant and
hopeful;-these give birth to utterances which may
occasionally wear the air of boasting, but examine
them narrowly and you will find it is not so.  The
gasconading which derives its name from Gascony,
is the true bragging.  It tells grand tales of what
it has done, and to magnify itself, paints, magnifies,
i
t4t (c4,urr4to. 
p
I
THE CHURCHES.
or makes the self-glorifying story rather than do
without it. The American so-called boasting, arises
from a natural sensibility to successes.  It is the
joy of victory, the triumph of achieved independence. It has warmed the heart before it flowed
out from the tongue.
When a sprightly, polite, benevolent young guide,
to whose courtesies we owed much in exploring the
city of Boston and its beautiful environs, rushed
forth in a tide of exultation as he pointed out the
fine monument to those patriots who perished in
the battle of Bunker's Hill — when he related how
the English army had made the song and air of
"' Yankee Doodle," and were used to cast it forth in
scorn against the unregimentalled patriots, who
fought not for pay but for independence — when he
cracked his whip in triumph as he told that when
the invaders were routed, the American band took
up the strain and marched to possess themselves of
the enemy's forsaken posts, to the mocking tune of
Yankee Doodle, and concluded with, "That is how
the tune has been adopted as our national quickstep ever since." Could any one that had a heart
see and hear him, and apply to his emotions such a
term as boasting? Nay, it was impossible even to
remind him that we belonged to the discomfited
121 
THE CHURCHES.
side, or to feel anything but sympathy with his gladness.
Yet it is not joy in the past, it is expectation for.
the future, to which the accusation of boasting is
chiefly applied. Their position is progressive, their
circumstances are encouraging, and EHOPE is the
master passion of the whole nation. They seem
incapable of entertaining a desponding or alarmed
view of any circumstance. When the fate of the
fine " Atlantic" steamer was for so many anxious
weeks veiled from the deeply interested multitude,
it was amazing to hear people, in the face of all
manner of probable misfortunes, express conviction
that the good ship and her people, and even her
cargo, were all safe. If some of those who profess
faith in " clairvoyance," consulted a modern witch
of Endor on the subject, and the oracle was favorable, it was handed about with great cheerfulness.
If, however, she saw a wreck on the African coast,
or a ship burned to the water's edge, and three forlorn men, one of them of huge proportions, and still
undaunted bearing, preparing a slip of paper to be
sealed up in a bottle; the consulters turned off in
disdain denying the witch's skill.  They hoped
then, hoped on, hope always. And thus, when they
speak of their country, the mind rushes on to dis
1
122 
THE CHURCHES.
tant lakes and populations, and prairies, and future
ages, and instead of being bounded by the great
things already achieved, they tell of what they shall
achieve. We say they prophesy,-we ought to say
they hope. We say they boast!-we ought still to
say they hope. It seems easier to extinguish in
them the torch of life, than that of hope.
To this great principle in the Christian coinmmunity does the church owe much of its vigorous effort
at extension.  Hope animates to energetic endeavor
and vivid exertion. The faithful advance courageously, feeling that the deep and permanent wants
of the human heart meet their efforts, and that the
high objects which they present, have power alike to
arrest and influence the aged and the little one.
The emblem of the Church of Scotland, endeared
to us by years of oppression and persecution, during
which its fitness has been verified, is the As bush burning, yet not consumed." The Motto of the Church
in the United States might fitly be,' We are saved
by hope."  Its whole existence is a history of the
pulsations of hope, urging onward to more extended
effort, and more strenuous exertion.  It is not of its
nature to say, " This city is so crowded, that we
must leave it alone, we can make no impression on
it." On the contrary, a church that is awake and
L__                    ____
I
1
123 
124              THE CHURCHES.
alive will observe, " Here is a district beyond us,
filling up with a population who have no religious
ordinances; let us draft off two of our elders, and a
few of our influential Christian families-let the
people be visited and invited to a prayer-meeting in
a convenient place-let us offer them the meanslet us set them the example-let us set about it
now with prayer for the influences of the Holy
Spirit.-Does the pastor quail under the separation
fromn some of his steadfast people? Does he say,
How can I do without you?   How can I spare so
many pillars and props from my spiritual edifice?
Nay, he says, a Go my friends, it is a Christian enterprise, it is our Master's work.   I will lend you help
as time and strength may serve, and we all shall follow you with our prayers." So armed and encouraged they go. The nucleus gathers around it a few
of the sober-minded inhabitants of the new district.
The success of the enterprise becomes interesting to
them. as well as to those who came there and
opened the scheme. In a year they have filled the
district school-house, and have regular worship. In
two years they have erected a becoming edifice, and
got a pastor settled, and all the influences of a wellworked Christian system are brought to bear on the
neighborhood.
i
I 
THE CHURCHES.
Here it is a city population that is spoken of, but,
allowing for the difference of a fewer and more
scattered people,-the process in the country is
nearly similar, reminding us of the manner in which
a bulbous root propagates itself, swelling and pushing out fresh bulbs on either side. This method of
church extension is employed by the various bodies
of Presbyterians. The Methodists and Baptists,
whose communion rolls are numerically stronger,
use similar methods. They are not equal in influenee and steadfastness to the Presbyterians if we
embrace under that name all the fragments which
rest on the presbyterian foundation. The colored
population are more generally united with the Baptist and  Methodist bodies-and  their status in
American Society and degree of intellectual cultivation, necessarily place them in a lower grade with
regard to influence; so that though the Baptists
have nine thousand and eighteen churches, and the
Presbyterians only five thousand six hundred and
seventy-two, yet the latter are the more powerful
body.
The Episcopal Church, which the English would
expect to be first and greatest, has only one thousand five hundred and sixty churches and twentyeight bishops. It loses much in a country consti
4
125 
THE CHURCHES.
tuted like the United States, by its habit of standing aloof from other denominations, and fails in the
more expanded exercise of Christian love which
would be called into play if it were substituted for
the cold formal exclusiveness in which the majority
of the congregations encase themselves.
One is at a loss to explain the sectarian trammels
in which episcopacy seems in all countries entangled.
Not the high church party alone  the tractarians
or Puseyites, as we should call them. Their notions
of apostolic succession, and baptismal regeneration,
account for their exclusiveness; but the low church
party, holy, zealous, and faithful though they be,
seem not to assimilate cordially with other denominations. In England we impute this chill reserve
to their ideas of the dignity becoming an established
church, and to an idea that all dissent from it is
schism from Christ; but in America it must arise
from some other cause. It is not apostolical succession, neither is it baptismal regeneration, for the
low church party do not hold such dogmas. Is it
then the damping effect of forms of prayer? One
feels much disposed to come to that conclusion for
want of another, and then to reason upon it as an
effect to be expected.-  What  spirit can escape
weariness under repetitions that must become mo
126 
THE CIIURCHES.
notonous. Or, when prayers are requested for a
sick member, how can a heart surcharged with emotion, fail to feel that a slender parenthesis to aid
the importunity of an anxious spirit, which is limited to the "all sick persons, especially that one /br
whom our prayers are desired."  And one cannot
understand how such another poor "specially" can
serve for the outpouring of a request for "those who
travel by land or by water,"-if it be the mtissionary, or the emigrant, or the one beloved member
travelling away from a weeping family, without
damping or deadening the sentiment.
The Liturgy has been altered and much improved in America, without exhibiting any of those
alarming-results which seem to be anticipated in
England when a proposal to modify or in any way
to interfere with it is made. It might be a fabric
of straw on cards, so great is the alarm felt on that
subject. Is not the alarm a superstition? And if
the substantial Scripture truths of the Liturgy have
suffered no injury by abridgment and verbal alteration in America, why should they suffer elsewhere,
if managed with equal judgment; for example, the
Lord's Prayer is recited once during morning and
once during evening servie, instead of four or five
times as it is on communion occasions in England;
LLesasitisoncommunionoccasionsinEnland;
II
127 
THE CHURCHES.
and the " Gloria Patri" is repeated but once, that
is after the last psalm for the day, instead of as
many times as there are psalms read. The verbal
alterations are numerous and judicious, as well as
the correction of all the ungrammatical phrases
which we, from long custom, scarcely perceive to be
there.
Upon the whole, though the service has been
much improved, the disadvantage of being confined
to one set form of words still remains. Petitions
can never be adapted to the subject pressed on the
soul in the sermon.   May it not, therefore, check
the effect of a preached gospel, and place the mind
in the attitude of feeling, that all that is required of
it has been done, when a certain form of words has
been repeated? This, surely, more than the external government of the Episcopal Church, is the
damper which impedes the flame of love and zeal,
and reduces even the good and faithful to a chilly
level; a level which has no power to vary with the
ever-varying circumstances and states of advancement of the people, and which, therefore, may pluck
backward the aspiring spirit when it aims at a closer
union with Christ, and a more uniform indwelling of
the Holy Spirit.  That this is the experience of
some of her most zealous pastors, may be inferred
128 
THE CHURCHES.
from the fact, that in week-day lectures, when they
have escaped from the " consecrated" edifice, they
are apt to employ extempore prayer.
Notwithstanding these anti-formn-of-prayer remarks,
which may excite displeasure in minds that are often
refreshed by the use of the Liturgy, let it be understood, that the Episcopal Church in America is enriched by some men who are not surpassed in holy
zeal and ability by the men of any other denomination, and that the feeble soul who may be thought
thus rudely or ignorantly to interfere with their ark
has many times found refreshment within it.
It appears as if the confusion of sects, which is
ever found where many minds are interested in divine truth, resembles the confusion of tongues, impeding the work it designs to promote, and exciting
displeasure and disappointment, where it ought to
cheer and harmonize. But in spite of all impediments, there is a spiritual kingdom in this evil
world, and it makes progress in a wonderful manner
in the very heart of obstacles.
The world is exceeding worldly,-yet the spiritual kingdom rushes into it and plucks forth victims
who seemed beyond the hope of rescue. The enemy is exceeding treacherous,-but there are unseen
guards over the newly-formed subjects, who prevent
129 
THE CHURCHES.
and preserve them in their allegiance. The gainsayers are full of contempt and mocking, but the
feeble are made strong, and taught to stand forth
with courage as subjects of the Spiritual Kingdom,
and as advocates to enlist others under the Lord's
Banner. —-" We are saved by HOPE." Well may
the Church in any land say so,-but how peculiarly
may it be said where the man of sharp speculation,
of far-seeing enterprise, or of keen politics, is withdrawn from these which were his first objects, and
by a power which is hid from the wondering worldling, is fixed on an entirely new pursuit, which he
professes as openly and follows with as much energy as ever he did his old ones.
The frankness and cordiality of the American religious professor is a great gain to him.   He  confides himself to the sympathies and prayers and all
the sweet influences of Christian intercourse, while
we in Scotland tremble and shrink, and carefully
turn the bushel over our little candle, till its light is
well nigh expiring for want of air. They commit
themselves to a consistent walk, for they empower
all lookers-on to say whether their conduct consists
with their profession or not, while we sneak along,
and are barely suspected to be perhaps Christians.
What is there more honoring to God, or silently
I
I
130 
THE  CHURCHES.                131
admonitory to the worldly, than the Christian life
shining as a light in the world. Even Wall-street
raised its head fromin its money calculations, and
said, " Brewster dead!  Ah, then he is in heaven!"
That faithful muan had, for more than twenty years,
filled honorably his place in the Church, and met his
death hastily by an accident. This, the world's unpremeditated testimony to his consistency, showed
that he had been as a " city set upon a hill," and
had been observed by the careless.
Such a life is full of light, and such are the men
who are sustained for service by hope, and who infuse hope into the bosoms of others. They press
on, and exert themselves, for they are " saved by
Hope." This strong power of /ope may, in some
degree, affect the settledness of pastors as well as
others.  It is not very rare to find a minister resting for a year or two from the charge of a flock, and
occupied in other-sometimes even in secular-engagements.
When an enterprise is on hand, they are not used
to regard any man as a fixture not to be spared
from his present station. They draught him off to
take charge of a publication, or colportage, or new
missionary scheme, feeling that their best men are
most in their place in any new and important work.
I
i
i
I
i
i 
THE CHURCHES.
By such means they fill the eye of the public, and
give an impulse that has a powerful effect, on their
first movement in any new scheme.
Preaching, though alike in its aims and objects,
differs considerably in its method in Scotland and
the United States. We are doctrinal-they experimental.   We  refer continually  to Scripture for
proof-they found on Scripture, but treat the hearers as if they knew the proof. We are solemn and
objurgatory-they  solemn  and  entreating.   We
draw our illustrations from Scripture, and from past
ages-they, without compromising the dignity of the
chair. gather illustrations from the events of the
time.  We feel it a duty to be textual, and often to
explain the connection between text and contextthey frequently use a text but as a motto, or catch
a collateral idea from it, and treat that with great
spirit, as if it were the real subject indicated.
One sometimes longed for more bibles in the pews,
and more calls to refer to them.   It is true the
hearers are quick of apprehension, but they might be
the better of having the scriptural foundation fixed
more clearly in their minds. The more quick and
impulsive, the more need of solid instruction. They
see the thing, but they do not want to dwell on it.
One feels as if'1 Hall's Contemplations," or Meikle's
r
i
132 
THE CHURCHES.
"Solitude Sweetened," could not have been meditated by American minds.  What a spring would be
made in the divine life if more of the contemplative,
meditative,  self-acquainting,  and God-acquainting
spirit were cultivated by a people so lively and ardent.  The preachers who cultivate these may lack
something in early popularity, but will gain in permanent weight and usefulness.  While with regard
to Scotch preaching the remark may with equal propriety be reversed.
Good specimens of the "motto" text were given
by two of the excellent preachers who took share in
the New York winter course of"  Sermons to Young
Men."  Dr. Cheever's was, " Son remember;" and
Dr. Tyng's, "RBun, speak to this young man." By
this choice they were left at liberty to "remember"
or to "speak" anything, and they used their freedom
skilfully and usefully. Yet, when a few weeks after
a religious newspaper mentioned that one hearer had
ever since had a sound in his ears of, " Run, speak to
this young man" following him wherever he went,
one felt a wish that the text so fixed had been some
thing more definite and instructive-to say nothing
of the hasty impulse which had published such an
incident. It was true the young man was haunted
by a sound, but was he thereby converted? or was
i
133 
I
134               THIE CHIURCHES.
the result certain to be sound  cn,vers'ini?  If he
were, was it prudent thus to hasten before the public?        V ery likely the avidity of EdCitors for news, is
one          reason why the people seem  suach a "hasty nation," while the judicious disapprove this haste. This
young man's spirit of a sound that haunted himn reninds me strongly of a letter from a valued friend,
written in the heat and glory of the " Great Unknown's   writing the "Tales of Mly Landlord."   The
letter  ran  thus: "Sir Walter Scott told me that he
must give utterance to a foolish rhyme that has
haunted him for days, hoping thereby to get rid of
it. He then recited with great force
'Cuckoldy moy, mny boy, my boy,
What shall I do to give thee joy!'
The words are too absurd, but they in my turn
haunt me in bed and out of it, at work or at play,
and I now write them to you instead of uttering
them,'hoping thus to escape from them without inoculating you." This idle tale is not designed to
mock at the sound which might prove the forerunner
of a salutary change in the young man, but to suggest the imprudence of making a paragraph about it
in the Newspaper.
People talk in England of the "aristocracy of 
THE CHURCHES.
wealth" in the United States. It is true that in a
land so open to all manner of enterprise, the acquisition of wealth gives a man influence, not only as
its holder, but as the man of skill who obtained it.
They who speak thus, however, have set their mnark
of aristocracy at a grovelling level. There is an
aristocracy of moral worth and consistent piety, and
an aristocracy of scientific and philosophical knowledge, within whose circle the" aristocracy of wealth,"
without these higher attributes, can find no standing. The faithful and consistent Pastor becomes
the man of his circle.  His influence is felt in his
city and in his State.  His presence renders a public meeting more respectable than that of ten men
of mere wealth.   His influence as a chairman will
be of more weight than that of a "real live Lord" in
England, while he will escape those complimentary
flatteries which our intelligent aristocracy endure as
best they may, and estimate at their true emptiness.
If a clergyman speaks at a public meeting he is
sure of attentive listening. His Thanksgiving Sermon gives the tone to his people for the year.   His
inaugural address, or popular lecture, is expected
before it is delivered, and discussed after.
Even amongst the very worldly there does not
seem such an absence of the religious element as in
I
i
t
135 
THE CHURCHES.
Britain. Religion is not a proscribed topic. All
treat it as a real thing, and admit the claims of their
own souls. The gay, the giddy, and the neglectful
seem aware that they must undergo a change before
they can enter the kingdom. This may be imputed
to the experimental style of pulpit address. We state
the principle, and leave it to produce its effect; they
draw the inference from the principle, and dwell on
it in such a manner as to arrest those who would not
dwell long enough on the subject to draw it for
themselves. The solemn deep tone from a pulpit in
IHartford often still awakens an echo in the cells of
memory, " Hear me! sinner, hear me!" and convinces
me that there is a moral power far overmastering
that of wealth, which rests at the root of American
society.
136 
,   45'   v rn4tr-luprting.
THERE are, it may be, "so many voices in the
world, and none of them are without signification."
The lion roareth in the forest because he hath no
prey, and the young eagles seek their meat from
God. Each voice is intelligible to the ear of the
Creator, but the mnost welcome must be the voice of
petition from his children, conveyed through the
ever-welcome  Intercessor.   How  simple  are  the
words, "Ask and ye shall receive."  Every child
understands, and acts upon them daily, in reference
to its earthly parents. Yet how difficult for the heart
to adopt and act upon them with perfect simplicity
in reference to our Father in Heaven.   It is a great
thing to say, "' I sought the Lord, and he heard me,"
or to point to an afflicted neighbor and say, "This
poor man cried, and the Lord heard him and saved
him out of all his trouble;" but this ought to be,
and might be, the experience of every praying heart,
were it not for lurking unbelief
II 
THE PRAYER-MEETING.
In some of our Scottish prayer-meetings I have
felt a degree of distraction of purpose, and want of
defined object, which seemed to eat the soul out of
the petition. Perhaps an address on some passage
of Scripture diverted the mind of the leader, so that
the object of the meeting seemed rather to be instruction than petition; and thus a multitude of
vague confessions and requests which did not fix the
heart, destroyed the idea of a union for prayer. It
is true our wants are numerous and varied, and each
petition might be suited to the necessities of some
one; but the mind gathers strength by fixing on
some special subject, and avoid distraction by grasping at no more than it is able to embrace at once.
We cannot forget the solemn meetings of two or
three brethren at once to plead for direction, or the
mighty outpourings of some hundreds so frequent
before the wrench was made which severed the Free
Church of Scotland from the Church of its habitual
attachment. We were in earnest then, and knew
distinctly what we wanted, and that put life into our
petitions. And so it is ever. Defined wants produce defined prayers.
I have attended many prayer-meetings in the
United States, and been refreshed by the ready outpouring of heart of elders in various churches. At
I
138 
THE PRAYER-MEETING.
times the home sensibilities have received a lively
touch, by hearing the tones and method of approach
of a father from Scotland; differing from his brethren in style, yet the same in aim, for there are
" many kinds of voices in the world, but none of
them are without signification," and all are intelligible to the ear of mercy.
- The association for prayer, of which I wish to give
a minute detail without the help of anything except
the strong impression on memory, was held in the
city of Boston, in the lecture-room of the Old South
Church.
That "Old South"-hallowed as the only lighthouse, which at one period held up the true lamp
of salvation to that city.  The "Old South"-where
so many pilgrims have been guided, and so many
new-born souls have made their first dedication to
Christ. My heart was glad, when a lady to whom I
carried a letter of introduction, told me of her morning engagement, and most kindly offered to introduce
us to that little quiet assembly.
Eight was the hour of meeting, and three quarters
of an hour the time allowed, as the numerous merchants and clerks who were present must be in their
offices at nine. More than once we enjoyed the
privilege of attending, but it is the incidents of one
I
I
139 
140       THE PRAYER-MEETING.
morning which are presented as a specimen of true
simplicity, and mingling of sympathy. The gentleman who occupied the chair was a layman,/who we
heard was then only present for the second time.
He selected for singing two or three stanzas of a
hymn, and then prayed with fervor and fluency for
the great and leading objects of this meeting, viz.:
the renewing and refreshing influences of the Holy
Spirit on the churches in Boston, and on the city in
general.  HIe  then read a portion of a chapter in
the Acts. At the close of reading, he made some
sensible remarks on the minute guidings of Providence, which we often follow without perceiving
them, in consequence of our unwatchfulness; and
which when perceived, can never be neglected with
impunity. His reason for choosing the passage he
had read, was that he awoke that morning with the
last verses on his mind; and that some thirty, or it
might be forty years, since when in the city of Portland, he heard the sermon on those verses which was
the means of awakening spiritual life in him. He
had not heard the clergyman before or since, nor
seen him with his bodily eye again till this morning,
bult had good reason to remember him and the time
with gratitude. He then stated as another reason
for addressing them, that he had good news in which 
THE PRAYER-MEETING.
all would rejoice. He had heard a report four
months since of the conversion of an eminent lawyer
of that same city; but when he considered that the
man was a keen politician, occupied in party warfare,
writing pamphlets on his favorite questions, and
mingled up with all the elections, he dared not credit
the good news and had kept silence. Now, however, he could on undoubted authority, invite the
sympathetic congratulations of the meeting on the
sound conversion to God of Mr. John, whose
standing in society, whose noble mental powers, and
whose extensive interest were now all enlisted in the
cause nearest our hearts. You should have felt the
sentiment that throbbed from breast to breast as the
true-hearted man sat down. There was no articulate sound, but the tear drawn quietly from the
cheek, the little movement like the rustling among
the leaves in autumn indicating that the breeze is
there, and then the long breath like an exhalation
of thanksgiving, betrayed the universal sentiment.
After a brief pauso, an aged man arose whose trembling hand had carefully turned his ear-trumpet to the
chairman during his address.   He expressed gratitude and joy that he had been permitted to hear
what he had just listened to.  He was the clergyman who remembered well having preached on that
141 
THE PRAYER-MEETING.
passage at Portland all those long years ago, and
here was one rich fruit of that sermon, which he joyfully gave thanks for, for the first time, to-day.
Again the little sympathetic rustle breathed through
the community, and we feasted our eyes on the tall,
thin. bending-over pastor, and the glad, grateful,
spiritual son, who  gazed  on the venerable  man
through tears. He went on to set his seal to what
had been already said of the wisdom of following
small indications of Providence; saying that if his
friend had not awaked with that passage on his mind,
he might never have heard the news so calculated to
cheer him towards the close of his pilgrimage. He
had, however, still another coincidence to point out,
as he had borrowed a letter from a friend for the
purpose of reading an extract from it to this meeting
this very morning.
It was from the lawyer of Portland, Mr. John
, and entirely corroborated what we had already heard. In it the writer stated that he and
his wife had lived in all harmony, and, as they
thought, wisdom, trying to do good to their country
after their fashion, but entirely without God. Nor
had they discovered any defect in their scheme, till
their own cherished and highly educated son-" our
poor boy," as he was called-had disappointed their
142 
THE PRAYER-MEETING.
hopes and grieved their hearts. Then they asked
each other what could have been omitted in his
training that could leave himn a prey to evil pursuits,
and suddenly they remembered that they had, in the
midst of many accomplishments, failed to teach him
anything of his spiritual relations to God.   They
opened  the Scriptures for themselves, and their
hearts were opened by the Holy Spirit, so that they
made a thousand discoveries.  It was joyful to hear
the outflowing upon new objects, new motives new
influences, new purposes;' behold, I make all
things new" seemed written on his capacious heart,
and if he had served his country zealously as a politician and lawyer, his plan and purpose now was to
serve it as a Christian. One felt sorry as a stranger,
to have no familiar hand to take in fervent and
thankful gratulation as many did. Another gentleman was requested to offer prayer and thanksgiving, which it was most pleasant cordially to join in.
We then sung a few more stanzas,-and presently
arose a little thin, threadbare, tidy, sweet-looking,
but evidently simple man-who said he had something to say to his brethren and sisters-and one
might notice ladies tightening their shawls, and gentlemen clearing their throats, as if preparing for
the exercise of endurance. Hiere, thought the in
i
143 
THE PRAYER-MEETING.
terested observer, is a specimen of the effect of a
popular constructed meeting. Hie has a right to
speak, and the chairman has no right to prevent
him-and why should he?  If he is one of the
Lord's simple ones, one would like to hear what he
has got to say.
And then the mild man, in a silver tone, told us
how he had been perplexed by Christ's command to
"love his enemies"-for if they were wicked he
ought not to love them.  "Do not I hate them who
hate thee? yea I hate them with a perfect hatred."
But at last he discovered that he was to hate the
wicked who were Christ's enemies, but he was to
love and pray for those who were his own.   "And
so," said the innocent, modest man, "fearing that
any of you, my brethren and sisters, might be perplexed by the same passage, I am happy to help you
with my explanation of it." And now, the time being exhausted, we parted with a closing prayer.
In a far country I long to hear of the answer
which we expect, even a refreshing time fromn the
presence of the Lord, on the Churches and City of
Boston.
The most touching feature of this meeting is,
that it had been held daily, with the exception of
the Sabbath, for the last four months, and that it
144 
THIE PRAYER-MEETING.
consisted of all denominations that hold the headeven Christ-without sectarian inquiry or impediment. WTho of all that breathing company thought
to inquire with which of the sects that lawyer and
his wife at Portland had cast in their lot? It was
enough that they were united to Christ, and were
gone forth with brethren to labor in the vineyard.
If we really have our spirits moved with divine
love, and if we dwell in the light of our Saviour's
countenance, that ruling sentiment will occupy the
room which might otherwise be filled with heartchilling and deadening influences.
A dream, as it is called, though probably it was a
dream by daylight, or rather a very pregnant parable, comes forcibly to mnind in this connection.
A man dreamed that his soul was disunited from
its earthen  dwelling-place, and flew boldly up to
"that great city, the holy Jerusalem," and frankly
addressing one of the twelve angels who stand by
the twelve gates, he asked for admission, as he was
a faithful member of the Church of England.  "But,"
said the guardian of the glorious portal, "we do not
know any such citizens here."',Why," expostulated the candidate for admission, "that is strange.
Who have you here-have you any Baptists?"  "I
never heard of them," replied the angel.   "Any
10
.
145 
THE PRAYER-MEETING.
Presbyterians?" "I know not what you mean."
"Any Methodists?"  "No such names are IRnown
here."  " Well, then," asked the baffled and alarmed
soul, lingering by the gate, to enter which had been
his heart's longing for years, "have you not any
members of the body of Christ here?"  " Ah! yes
-all who enter here are members of his glorious
body. If you be one of these, enter and welcome."
If the churches were, according to the beautiful
figure of James Montgomery, "distinct as the billows, but one as the sea," how profound would be
the Unity of the Spirit beneath, compared to the
sectarian undulations on the surface.   The "Unity
of the Spirit in the bond of peace"-that is what
must possess us if we ever dwell in heaven, and
therefore what we must aim at even in this carnal
world. The mighty ocean which laves our continents and islands is ever the same, and by its beneficent cloud-collecting and wind-diffusing powers, the
whole world is fanned and watered-but what is this
universal beneficence compared with that of the
"'fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness?"
There must every soul of every denomination have
washed before it has learned to comnmune with God.
And if all are indebted to the same cleansing
flood, how can we stand aloof as if we were stran
146 
THE PRAYER-MEETING.
gers? If even the ten lepers associated together in
their misery, shall not those who are healed associate together in their thankful union?
" Lift high thy banner, Prince of Peace;
Let discords die, and love increase."
147 
(oQ)Jt f            trttIrt
IN the dark parts of the earth, we find shadowy
intimations of Scripture truths. Some have three
united idols for their god.   Some have traditions
of the original pair who peopled the earth. Some
have an account of Noah's flood, not very unlike
the truth. All these are valuable as intimating the
one source from whence they draw their origin.
They have by tradition a dim representation of
what we have by inspiration. Even those things
which are distinctly stated in the New Testament,
become modified in the course of ages, and under
the different degrees of light or liberty of the Christian Church.
Thus, some baptize by immersion, some by sprinkling, some in a house, others in a running stream.
But all derive the rite itself from the divine record.
And so of the Lord's Supper, which continues to
show forth the wonderful sacrifice made for man.
It will remain "till He come," but under varied
I 
THE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.
forms. It has been touching to me to observe such
variations, and to feel that in spite of them all the
believers are one in heart and in hope.
At the communion service, in an ancient village
chtrch in Switzerland, the Pastor was raised two
steps above us, he took from a small table by his
side a long strip of bread, as thick as his finger.
From this he broke a morsel which he silently gave
to each communicant, who then passed behind him
and received the cup from one of the two elders
stationed at another little table on the same platform, and passing downward the people returned to
their places by entering the pews at the opposite
end from that by which they had left them.
In Belgium, on a similar occasion, the church
having been lately painted, the elder who had
charge of the communion plate was absent and had
locked it up. Were the children to fast because of
the absence of the regular order of vessels? Nay,
verily. Their pastor treated the matter in a more
practical way, unfettered by any solemn consecration, and using simple goblets of glass, and a common china plate, the tokens of redeeming love were
dispensed to us-and the accompanying exhortations
and prayers were never more  strengthening or
quickening.
I
149 
150    THE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.
Some of these services in the United States had
only so refreshing a variation fromn ours, as to be
the more arresting to the mind.  One  of these
which we enjoyed in New Jersey, I shall describe
as correctly as memory will enable me. 
We had public worship on Friday afternoon and
evening, and again on Saturday at two o'clock. It
was lively to see the country people congregating
from distant hamlets, and to count upwards of
seventy vehicles on the green-the number on Sabbath being increased to upwards of a hundred.
Each vehicle carried four persons-many of them
six-and some children were there above the regular complement. They were chiefly plain country
people, who in our own country would walk a few
miles to church without weariness. The vehicles
comprised many of fashion new to me-the Wagon,
the Rockaway, the Dearborn, and so on, up to the
comfortable Brougham.   The spacious church was
well nigh full-the services instructive and edifying.
On  the Sabbath all who were to join the church
for the first time, came up the middle aisle to profess their faith. Their names were mentioned by
the minister, and also the names of those who were
to be received from other evangelical churches.
After reading the covenant, and a short affectionate
I
I
I 
THE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.
address from the pastor, the new members took
their seats with the communicants. This brought
to mind the simple country church in Dumfrieshire,
where several years before, those very dear to me
had stood in the band of young communicants to
receive such welcome and such admoniton.
After this address the minister invited any
strangers who might wish to commemorate the
Master's dying love, with an affectionate reference
to Christian friends from a sister church in a distant country.  Next came the baptismal service for
those unbaptized. One man and one woman, both
of middle age, presented themselves.   They  advanced to the rail around the elder's seat and
kneeled.   With us it is so uncommon a circumstance Jnot to have been baptized in infancy, that
when it is required, the service is as it were smuggled bye in the session-house or in the Manse.
The open profession is the more becoming method,
inviting the prayers and the brotherly oversight of
the whole flock.
On Saturday afternoon when the children of the
church are usually presented for baptism, there
stood a mother with her full heart and watery eye,
offering her boy-about six-in one hand, and her
girl, about three, in the other, awakening the sym
i
I
I
151 
152      THE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.
pathy and petitions of many of us-specially that
her heart's wish for the conversion of her husband,
might be granted.  The boy looked up in the minister's face and smiled when he first poured the
water and then laid his wet hand on his head to
bless him. The girl gave a startled cry at the
shock of the cold water on her face, and then was
still. Here was a sight good for a church, calling
forth many family and Christian sympathies.
Next approached five or six pairs side by side;
the fathers, with that tenderness for the feebler sex
which is unfailing in America, carrying the babes,
till the pastor took each one in his own paternal
arm, named and blessed it in the name of the Lord.
The vows as to training in the nurture, and admonition of the Lord were laid on both parents. There
was given here a striking testimony to the esteem
with which true religion is regarded. The pastor's
own family had been called to resign to heaven
about ten years before, two lovely children, aged eight
and six years, and but recently another lamb of
their flock. But the more recently removed was
passed by, and the name of the dear child of ten
years memory seleeted, both name and surname, for
two of the babes now dedicated to the Lord. The
good man's voice trembled as he named the first, but 
THE SACRAMIENTAL SERVICES.
the father's heart within him gave way quite when
the second evidence of respect for his little one in
glory was given. Her memory is fragrant, and as
we learned afterward, nearly a dozen of her name are
growing up in that congregation.
On the Sabbath no table was covered, save that
on which the elements were placed. On the previous day, an exhortation somewhat like what we call
"fencing the tables," had been delivered, so that
the preliminary services differed nothing from what
is usual on common Sabbaths. The body of the
church was filled with communicants. We did not
arise and go to a table as in Scotland, but the elements were handed to us where we sat.  The service was simple, solemn, and appropriate, detaining us
only half an hour longer than usual. We had an afternoon sermon, and at night in the lecture-room an
elder's prayer-meeting very well conducted, and thus
closed a refreshing and very pleasant Sabbath-day.
The few country churches which I have had an
opportunity to attend, are marked by order and
neatness, remarkably clean, neatly painted, each having its stove, and aiming at its band of singers. The
city churches have a good effect from the taste and
uniformity with which they are fitted up. The carpets and cushions are all alike, and the seats have a
153 
154    THE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.
sloping back which much promotes the ease of the
sitter.  If the wood be painted white it is banded
with a broad border of sonme rich dark wood, or if
mahogany it is banded in the same manner.   The
divisions are low, the doors sloping gracefully, and
the number or namne of the proprietor, is engraved
on a silver-looking plate on the dark band.  Any
one purchasing a pew, is bound not to paint or
carpet it except in uniformity with the furnishing
of the church-and thus the eye is not offended as
it may be in old churches, here by a red-fringed cloth
spreading over the front of the gallery in one seat,
and next to it a brown, and next again a green.  A
stranger from a colder clime, has the eye drawn to
the amazing number of fans sticking between the
cushions and the back of the pew. But let him
wait till a right hot day, and he will see the wife
profiting by the ventilation of her husband's fan;
the little ones placing themselves within the gale of
elder brothers and sisters; the choir fanning most
violently; and the very minister using all occasions
of cessation from speech to fan himself, while his
tumbler of iced water on the neat marble within his
lengthened rostrum, is frequently resorted to in the
progress of his discourse.
The buildings of the Reformed Dutch are proba 
THE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.
bly on the exact model brought from Holland at
first-nearly square, a facade of steps on which are
erected six dazzling white fluted pillars which support a portico, forming a broad piazza, at the back of
which open the wide folding-doors into the church.
The pulpit at the opposite end, consists also of a
long range of steps to a platform, which in the centre has a frontage on which the desk is fixed, while
it is without door or interruption, and has at the
back, perhaps, a centre chair with a sofa at each
side, or three chairs and a small movable table.
This is graceful, admits a free circulation of air, and
leaves the orator more at liberty than when he is
shut up in something shaped like a tulip or a lily of
the Nile, with a spiral stair by which to reach it, and
an impending extinguisher called a sounding-board;
an arrangement, which to a troublesome imagination,
calls up paintings of fairy revels, with Oberons and
Titanias just emerging from bell-flowers.
Most of churches have an organ and a choir, which
might be agreeable if every one would sing. But it
is not right to praise God by proxy, nor even wise
to withdraw all the fine voices which would be naturally sprinkled over the church and congregate
them in one spot, thus leaving the imperfect musicians amongst the worshippers, afraid to make a
I
I
i
155 
156    THE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.
"joyful noise" in the condescending ear of the Father of mercies, lest they make a discordant one in
that of their brethren.
On our return to England we landed on a Sabbath-day.   One of the freshest enjoyments of my
return to my native land in safety, was on that evening uniting with the multitude in a good old psalm
of praise, led by a single precentor. Every one
sung their best, and filled the roof with sounds, if not
so scientific, at least conveying more of the melody
of hearty devotion, than if we had listened to an instrument, or whisperingly and timidly followed a
choir. It is painful to be disturbed during prayer,
as sometimes happens by the rustle of music sheets,
and also by the whispered intercourse of singers
during the sermon. This only occurs in churches
where the choristers are hirelings, but it is much to
be lamented.   On  the contrary, in some other
churches, the amiable willingness to " help along,"
and the heartiness in the cause, so characteristic of
the people, will induce persons of refinement and
standing in society, and even married people to forsake their own seat and join the choir. Should any
casualty befal the organist, the instrument will not
be left mute, but some gentleman or lady will assume the office, with great cheerfulness and sim
. —., -I -- -    - I - --- I...-i-. "I -.  -. 
TEE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.
plicity.  This comes not only of natural good spirit,
but of an independence of " what people will think,"
which elsewhere paralyzes many who are well-qualified for useful effort.
The method of introducing new church-members
to the communion, seems much the same in various
denominations, varying only with the temperament
of the pastor. I have heard the interesting duty
gone through in a matter-of-fact cool manner;
again, as in the case described, in a way of practical affectionate interest; and again from  a full
heart, speaking a thousand welcomes, rejoicing over
each soul as one that findeth great spoil, and longing to welcome ten thousand more. Whichever is
the manner, the occasion is of profound, it may be
of everlasting interest.   The frank outflowing character of the people has a very winning effect, as it
leads them to hail each new member, and claim
brotherhood with him.-A lady mentioned that she
came a lonely stranger to Philadelphia, and " heard
around" in various churches till she felt sufficiently
attracted by the ministrations of one gentleman, to
return repeatedly. When she had been observed
about three times in the same place, a lady accosted
her-" Hoped she liked our minister-would she
like to go to prayer-meeting in the lecture-room, she
157 
158    THE SACRAMENTAL SERVICES.
would be happy to guide her next evening-would
she like to be introduced to the Rev. Mr.
&c."-In short, she found herself taken up, and
introduced as one of a goodly company, with whom
she has taken sweet counsel now for years.   How
sociable and comforting this to the solitary, and the
stranger, and how fit an office for a Mother in
Israel! 
EVERY community in the United States is open
to every denomination, and therefore it is not unfrequent that more churches are formed in a new city
or district than its population can sustain.  Thus
they may erect several churches, have several small
flocks, and by consequence several poorly paid pastors, when had they limited themselves to two, both
might have been in a thriving state. The extravagances of some men have brought even genuine revivals, at least as known by that name, into disrepute.  Still the growth of the church proceeds more
in the revival form than it generally does in Great
Britain. Any symptom of a time of refreshing is
the means of calling for extra help; and in that case,
ministers of various denominations come to each
other's aid.  The Episcopalians, alone in their exclusiveness, denying themselves such enlivening engagements. The variety of assistants, who are made
useful, this to one soul and that to another, some
I
_q Itt. 
times occasions a little difficulty in "housing the
converts," as an intelligent and practical observer
calls it  and in this way miore denominations are
settled than the place requires.  Many persons are
not so liberal or so punctual in their payments as
they ought to be. Many of the pastors, men of
good parts and devoted piety, struggle through difficulties with heroic fortitude, which they can derive
alone from their zeal in the cause of souls. No other
motive could retain them in office, when other means
of acquiring an abundant living are spread all around
them. They are at times glad to add a little farm
to their care of souls, or employ their spare hours
in educational engagements. In remote parts money
is not very plenty, and the people are accustomed to
employ barter instead of our common method of
buying and selling. With such people it is much
easier to give gifts to their pastor, than to insure
him a regular money income. From this circumstance has arisen the plan of having what has got
the name of " A Bee,"' once a year, which if met
with as much simple kindness by the receiver of the
honey, as it is bestowed by the busy, happy working
Bees who bring it, must be productive not of pain,
but of pleasure on both sides.
As one not present in the hive on that great day,
i
160
A BEE. 
A BEE.               161
I can only tell what has been related by those who
have many a time buzzed there with great delight.
The plan is in this style: A few of the active, warmhearted females form a committee and wait on the
minister and his wife  or should he be a bachelor,
no matter, or all the better. They are not to stop
on the threshold for a ceremony. They invite themselves and all the congregation to wait on the parsonage on a named day, or any other that suits the
parsonage better. They take all charge, trouble,
responsibility, only hoping the family will allow them
the privilege of the house.  That being negotiated,
and the day arrived first comes the band of waiters,
with all the appendages of a table covered and laden
with good things. They are spread forth, and who
shall count the dough-nuts, and the floating islands,
and the piles of cheese, and loads of rich cakes and
bread, and oceans of cream, and plates of frizzled
beef, and smoking turkey, and fried oysters, and
roast chicken, and pineapples of butter, and canoes
of brandy peaches, and preserved plums, and ginger,
and strawberries. The feast is after the fashion of
Abigail, or old Barzillai's gifts to David the King.
It is princely. They eat, and drink, and love one
another, and are very happy.  Drink! did I say?
Yes, from urns of fragrant tea, and pots of rich
11
I
161
A BEE. 
16                   BE
coffee, and, if to be had, from beautiful pitchers of
iced water. And the gentle family, cheered by the
seene, enjoy it greatly, and some of the minister's
jokes hit the nail on its very head, and are recited
perhaps till the bees reassemble next year, or may
be long after he has passed away. And in the close,
they sing praises and give thanks, aad the busy ones
gather up their empty vessels and depart-all parties
feeling more united in love than they were before.
Then the family explore the house, which had been
given up to the friendly invaders. They have been
in the larder, and there have left such marks as a
side of bacon, a cask of butter, some fine cheeses.
They have been in the garret, and deposited a load
or two of flour, and a bag of buckwheat, and another
of meal. They have been in the study, and placed
an easy chair, and a rug before it, for their pastor
has left life's meridian behind him. They have been
in the pantry, and left a barrel of sugar, a chest of
tea, and a cask of molasses. The children find with
suprise a nice new great coat hanging in the hall,
as if it were quite at home. And on mamma's bed
a web to make frocks, a beautiful new gown and
cloak, and a piece for jackets for the boys.
In the midst of all the exclamations of joyful
surprise and grateful conjecture as to the individual
162
A BEE. 
A BEE.                 163
donors, the good man steps to the garden to breathe
more freely under this load of kindness, when lo!
his wood-house is packed full of winter fuel, and the
last wagoner stands at a loss, not finding room for
his load.  " Take it to my neighbor the baptist minister down the hill there," says the grateful pastor.
"I fear he is hardly so richly provided for as I am,
and I am as much obliged to my friend as if I had
burnt every cord of it myself."
This, Oh! tithe-paying people of England, is "A
Bee!"  How sweetly could many of your generous
hearts fall into the humor of the country, and contribute your own pot of honey, and your blessing
with it!
163
A BEE. 
ALL weddings are not so bright and gay as that
I am about to describe, but every marriage, even
amongst the poorest people, ought to be a mixture
of the solemnity and the festival. Solemn, because
it forms a bond life-long, and coloring eternal things;
festive, because love, and hope, and sympathy are all
in lively exercise.
Imagine one of the loveliest days of the "Indian
Summer," in the middle of November. The sun
rising over New York, shaded in his lustre by a thin
gauzy haze, which his ardent beams had before eight
o'clock drank up, leaving neither shade, nor visible
cloud, nor any mark but himself in all that blue
vault, the depths of which the eye searched vainly
to fathom, or conjecture what might be beyond. It
was such a morning as in Britain would have had
"the lark blythe waking at the daisy's side," and
one would have watched him piercing the vault of
heaven, till even the last speck had disappeared from
the eye, while his rich warblings still poured down,
(x4r Wriug. 
THE WEDDING.
reached the ear. How is it that neither sky4-larks,
daisies, nor primroses frequent the lands of this intense blue sky, though they thrive and rejoice in our
more cloudy region.
Imagine various households afloat by six or seven,
and unwonted toilets and hair-dressings with wreathed lilies and roses before breakfast, and all the
sprightly remark and lively anticipations of interested groups, preparing in various dwellings for a
pleasant drive, and pleasanter ceremony. Imagine
the rough, unsightly broken rocks, unfinished roads,
and'the half built up brick and mortar litter of the
suburbs left behind, and a road gained which carries
you from one elevation to another, now in view of
the magnificent Hudson, with its flashing waters, its
fleet sail-boats, and its steamers; now behind one
of the innumerable knolls that rise upon its banks;
now sheltered by a grove of noble trees, now fronted
by a stern gray rock, and again greeted by a smiling
village, a busy hotel, or a tasteful villa. These
knobs on the banks of the great river, which whilome
were islets that barely lifted their heads above
waters which were gradually subsiding into the
ocean, are many of them crowned by handsome shining white houses, with wide piazzas, and shading
Venetian shutters of bright green. Without a gray
t
165 
THE WEDDING.
curl of smoke in the air, or a yellow stain of it upon
the walls, they look very brilliant, and are cheerful
and open, so that the eye may often penetrate a
whole suite of apartments, till it reaches shrubs,
vases, and flowers, on its farther side. These undulating grounds are full of graceful beauty, and when
brother Jonathan passes his age of utilitarian furor,
and finds a scarcity of Irish laborers to split and
tear down the rocks in the nearer environs of the
city-in short, when he reaches the picturesque period of his existence, how he will regret some of his
remorseless levellings.
"Why," it was inquired of a gentleman of fine
taste, as on another occasion we drove through some
similar levellings among the spacious and handsome
new avenues of Brooklyn,  "Why will you remove
these lovely eminences? Let them level the avenues as much as they can, but do spare Nature's
lines of beauty in those varied heights around. If a
tree were scattered here and there on that slope-if
that green were smoothed, and some of your touching weeping willows waved their tassels over it-if
a grove crowned the height, and formed a background to those houses!"  " My dear Madam," replied my friend, " the people would not bear it.
They would think we were turning exclusives, and
., I
166 
THE WEDDING.
perhaps cut up our trees." " Is this the method by
which they preserve their liberty? Is this republicanism?" " It is neither the one nor the otherit is merely the notion of the time." Within half a
mile of us there lay a specimen of a lovely green,
with its willows, unmolested by any zealous leveller.
So I infer my friend uttered but a sentiment born
of some  momentary vexation.  But what a " lie of
ground" is there on the Brooklyn Heights! Were
it placed in the hands of some capability man, it
would be found capable of all manner of elegancies,
as well as easy rising roads, and convenient levels.
But while Brooklyn has risen up in faney's eye,
we have traced several miles of Manhattan Island,
and reached a handsome villa which is situated on a
height overlooking the river near the commencement
of the palisades on the opposite shores.
Many carriages stud the surrounding park, many
domestics stand round the stoop, and two or three
zealous young Masters of the ceremonies hasten to
receive the parties as they alight.
The guests pass through a spacious hall, which is
not furnished with mats and high-backed unresting
carved chairs, or long antique oaken settles. surmounted by trophies of arms. The American Hall
looks like a place to lounge on a sofa in, and cool
I
i
i
I
I
i
167 
THE WEDDING.
one's self, or to dine in oni a hot day, having all the
appliances of a chamber to be used, not of a place
of waiting attendants, or of passage only.
In the farther depths of the spacious mansion we
entered a fine drawing-room with windows on three
sides, all opening of the piazza, giving varied views
of the Hudson. At the top stood the pair whose
circumstances drew all eyes and all hearts to them.
Three bridemaids stood on one side, each with a
bouquet rather inconveniently large, and formally
arranged, so as to rob the loveliest things in nature
of all the graces of bending stalks and flowing leaves.
Three groomsmen stood on the other side. There
were besides, two pretty little girls, who were held
by the hands of two smart boys, not got up for the
— show, as in the Popish processions, but really relatives and friends of the family.   The  Episcopal
clergymlan, in his surplice, was a graceful, nice-looking man, fit to grace such an assemblage.   The room
was thronged, for not the interested and affectionate
friends only, but stewards and house-keepers from
all branches of the family were there.  Dark coachmen and white house-maids, black cooks and yellow
foot-boys, Sunday scholars in their new frocks, Ethiopian Susan, with her ivory-black baby in her arms,
and all the other five of them at her feet. Waiting
I
-11
168 
THE WEDDING,
women, with their ringlets, and their air of mysterious importance, armed with ice-water and essences,
in case of need. Aged and withered-looking people
leaning on marble slabs next to elegant brocades
and diamonds, were all mingled in most admired
confusion. The Africans as far up the room, and
for once as much mixed with the whites as anybody.
The scene, as one could withdraw attention from the
modest, sweet-looking bride, or from her beaming,
affectionate mother, to consider it, was to an English eye most curious and striking.
And now, all being arranged, the service began.
It is abbreviated and improved from the old English original, and was felt to be solemn and appropriate.
" For the deep trust with which a maiden casts
Her all of earth, perchance her all of heaven,
Into a mortal's hand,"
is calculated to fill the minds of on-lookers with sober thought. Our interesting bride went calmly
through her part, as if resolved, and gave no use for
essences. While her deeply attached husband never
moved his eye from her countenance, as if his all
were before him.  The only movement that seemed
to detract from the unity of the heart absorption,
was when the bride for a moment pressed a finger
169 
THE WEDDING.
on the diamond cross on her bosom.  "Is she thinking of her appearance?" No-clearly her thoughts
are of a higher tone.  "Is she entertaining some
superstitious reverence for the emblem?"  No-still
why does her finger rest there? It was his lovetoken, she accepted it in evidence that she accepted
him.
A peculiarity which we have not in England has
an interest of its own sort in it. The bridegroom
first gave the ring to the bride, she took it, looked
on it, and gave it back-he then gave it to the clergyman, who also looked on it and returned it,-so
that before the little mystic token of everlasting
union was placed on her finger, it had been observed by all the three.
The finger of her glove had been previously
opened on one side, so that the bridemaid had no
flutter or struggle in removing the glove from her
hand, but merely slipt it off the point of the finger,
and thus it was uncovered ready for the ring-a
method highly to be commended to all trembling or
blundering bridemaids. At the close, the minister
raised a hand above the head of each, and mentioning their Christian names, blessed them in the name
of the Lord. It was very touching.
The emotions of congratulation were pleasantly
t
170 
THE WEDDING.
broken in upon by one of the nice little girls, who,
holding her boy-beau with one hand, with the other
presented an elegant small basket of white rosebuds,
while with a sweet low voice she recited a few graceful lines of hopeful aspiration:
"Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear!
They were born to blush in her shining hair;
She is leaving the home of her childhood's mirth,
She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth.
Her place is now by another's side Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride!"
Then was wheeled in a table with the mighty
cake, which is as much a "chieftain" at an American
as at a British wedding. From it the groomsmen
procured their favors, and mounted them as badges
of office, and then came the old English fun about
who found the ring, who the sixpence, who the scissors, and who the thimble.
At one o'clock, the pair, with their attendant
damsels: arranged themselves for "the reception,"
while the groomsmen ushered in the guests, and presented them to the bride. They had no sinecure
office till past three. The porter lost count after
the number of guests had passed seven hundred, in
spite of the custom for each family to give their card
of invitation at the door. As a rare privilege a
I
I
l_
171
I 
172           THE WED)DING.
seat was procured for mne in a place where all who
entered must pass, and there, without the exertion
of talking, I saw thle aristocracy of New York and
of many other places, glide by.
The movements were quiet and graceful, countenances beaming,  many very lovely,-dresses rather
elegant than gay.  Amongst those that one was
glad to have conversed with, even in the brief way
that an introduction can produce in such a scene,
were the Ex-President Van Buren, the Portuguese
ambassador, who led one of his children through
that lively maze, as several others did, and John Jay,
grandson of the Judge, whose name has been long
held in veneration as the negro's friend. It was
pleasant to look on them and many more men of
note in their country.
We went in groups to the dining-room, where
tables were sumptuously and most elegantly spread
with all the luxuries of the season,-when, having a
hint that there could be no time for any other dinner, people took advantage of their opportunity.
Stewed oysters, which are amongst the most nourishing and healthy luxuries of the country, with
sandwiches, game, fruits, jellies, ices, and champagne, were most dutifully handed about by the gentlemen. After refreshing ourselves, we returned to
I
I 
THE WEDDING.
the saloon with some difficulty, as the throng thickened, and the young people, who had lately begun
to time their steps to the music which issued from a
side-room, had at last got to dancing. The reception-callers were for a season figuring up the hall
amid the circling dancers, and were almost obliged
to galope their way into the saloon.
This hugging, and whirling with shut eyes, because of dizziness, and panting and falling on each
other's shoulders, confounds people of sedate and
tranquil manners. I once saw in a cursaal in Germany, through a glass door by which I passed,
something similar to this, but never in Britain,
though I suppose it may be seen there. A bright
lady by my side quoted in my ear what Washington
Irving had said at a similar scene, " Go fetch half
a dozen parsons to marry these couples, for they
have done all the courting already."
As the conflict thickened, the servants who had
withdrawn, trooped back again. It was quite new
to me to see half a dozen dark people laughing,
joking, and enjoying  the fun familiarly.   You
might see the whites within one door of the hall or
hanging on the stair, and the blacks at anotherand an elegant, breathless dancer, fanning and
swinging in one rocking-chair, and a black child of
i
i
I
173 
THE WEDDING.
nine or ten in the next, quite unconscious of anything like forwardness in her position. My bright
friend explains the superior familiarity of the dark
people in this way:' "The whites are so nearly our
equals, that we dare not approach nearer, but there
is a bar forever between us and the colored people."
There are among the colored so many "aunt" Silvas
and Celias, and Sukies, old friends of the houses too,
that there is a great deal of amiability in the way
the superiors manage and deal with them in their
visits.   The white attendants  are more like the
French Bonne, than the English waiting-woman.
They are all occupied about the dressings and
goings to and fro, offering opinions as to what suits
complexion, and hints as to what is becoming, such
as only a highly indulged servant would think of
giving in England.
Some of the party made their way to an upper
room, where the numerous and munificent gifts to
the bride had been arranged for the purpose of
being shown merely to relatives. The admiration
of beautiful things soon reached the ears of those
below, and troop after troop ascended and exclaimed, and admired, contrary to the intention of the
lord of the mansion, who, finding his instructions
ill-understood, or at least, ill-obeyed, sent a mes
________                  ____________
i
I
174 
THE WEDDING.
senger who most relentlessly locked the doors by
which the parties had made their way into a neighboring chamber. It is the plan of most houses to
have all the chambers opening into one another.
This was rather a comical scrape -a whole train of
ladies and gentlemen locked up as if they had been
suspected of designing to carry somnething away.
The amiable lady'of the fanmily made her way in,
and apologized very handsomely for the series of
mistakes, and suffered the culprits to escape without
farther punishment.
"The reception" having poured out its multitude,
the bride and bridegroom were at last emancipated,
and made a retreat to procure some food and to
dress for travelling;-and presently they slipt away
by a side-door, where the drawing up of their carriage was concealed from the public gaze-and the
scene of light-hearted mirth, having passed the element in which those who are equipped in perpetual
sable feel at home, my friend and I, by the same
private door, obtained our chariot too, and returned
to town. 
As a proof of the easy manner of the domestics,
it may be worth while to mention that the one who
opened the door for us on our returning, said"Well, ladies, I hope you have enjoyed your day,"
i
I
175 
THE WEDDING.
-a kind of sympathy much more natural than the
assumed automatonism of an English servant, who
goes through all evolutions, as if he had no comprehension of what you are about, and cared as little
as if you were in the bottom of the sea.
The pieces of cake which we brought home, were
in pretty card-board boxes tied with white ribbons.
Indeed, on occasion of two of the servants making
a match, while I stayed in the house of another
friend, during the winter-they presented five such
boxes so tied, to the ladies of the family and their
guests. People of all ranks in America do such
things in a dashing style. They earn money quickly
and spend it freely. We also brought home some
splendid bunches of flowers, and related all our
wonders, and wished the dear young people happiness, but being tolerably exhausted by the long day
of excitement, went to rest, glad that we need not
rise to dress for another wedding to-morrow.
I
176 
e,,t   (tit o.
THE traveller marvels at the well-laid-out and
nearly filled up streets of Buffalo, which a few years
ago consisted of but a store and a hotel-and the
gathering throng at Geneva, with the extensive saltworks of Salina, where lately there was only the
haunt of the red hunter-and the orderly and thriving population of Rochester, loading canal-boats with
pile on pile of sacks and casks, containing grain,
flour, butter, cheese, and all the bountiful produce of
a very rich country. Hle hears of Troy and Utica,
and all manner of ancient names, till he is at a loss
to remember in which era of time he lives, and on
which quarter of the globe he stands. But he feels
it is all new-the growth of yesterday. He need
but go a few roods from most of these flourishing
cities, to fall in with black stumps, obstinately holding their room in the fields of winter wheat; or
lopped and girdled  trees like so many criminals
awaiting their doom; or whole acres of fir wrenched
12 
THtE CITIES.
up by a machine, their once sky-pointing tops prone
in the coarse and fenny grass, and their roots standing in the air, like the fangs of a strong tooth that
has been drawn from its place by an engine not less
stern and resolute. The forest seems ancient like
mother earth, and like the deep blue sky-but the
cities are like parvenus, all new, and smart, and
bright; so that when from the Nor-west you get
down to Albany, you feel as if you had reached a
very ancient place, parts of it reminding one of Holland with a sort of modern square cut about it.
Washington-were the spaces filled up between
its very magnificent public edifices, would be very
grand. Baltimore, with its tasteful monuments and
fine rivers, is filled up; its regular orderly streets
giving one a little breathing of up hill and down
dale; reminding Scotch folks of Jeany Dean's delight at having her legs rested by climbing Gunnerbury hill, after two or three hundred miles of plain
walking. Philadelphia is full of Philanthropists and
philanthropic institutions; is clean, handsome, and
orderly as a young quaker's paste-board bonnet.
Hartford, with its fine streets and fine trees, and all
the histories attached to them-New Haven, with
its avenue of Elms, like the interlacing roof of an
ancient cathedral-Boston, majestic, graceful, with
178 
THE CITIES.                 179
its beautifully laid out Coimmon and height crowned
by its noble State Hlouse-These, and many more
one traverses with an ever-rising perception of the
civilization, wealth, taste, and beauty of the country.
But&  is of New York,-the " Empire City," where
traffic hastens and where shipping throngs, where
wealth enjoys and poverty labors, where want is pursued by benevolence, inebriety by temperance, and
vice of all sorts by Christianity it is of this emporium of the country that we wish to speak.
It is common to say, "' New York will be a handsome city when it is finished," and so it will if
that day of repose ever reaches it.  One sometimes
lights on a street quiet and clean, where you can
stand still and enjoy it. But lo! a restless genius
has bought a house. However comfortable it is he
will hardly believe it his own till he has altered it.
So you will see it climbing a story nearer the clouds,
a conservatory bulging out on the side, a portico on
the front.  If it be a store, a smarter window or a
deeper cellar is wanted.  In short, your orderly
street is quickly cumbered with all the confusion of
building; and timber, biicks, and lime are spread
about with little ceremony, and much incumibrance
to passengers. There is wonderful forbearance on
the part of the citizens, with the encroachments made
179
THE CITIES. 
THE  CITIES.
on the footpaths by boxes and casks of all kinds.
You must glide through themn very warily, lest your
clothes be rent on a corner or your foot wounded by
a nail; not to mention tinctures of tar or sugary
matter, which may be more easily contracted than
shunned in the lower and more business parts of the
city.  It must be on the give and take principle that
these incumbrances are suffered —" I won't complain
of you to-day, for I expect my cargo in to-morrow;
we must all get along" —and so they do, more at the
occupiers' ease in sonme streets than that of the passengers. It reminded me of an indignant traveller
whose horse had shied at the carcase of a dead
brother at the end of a small town in Scotland,
" Why is not this nuisance removed?"  " Hout, our
horses are used to it, they never care."  "But mine
does; and if you don't have it removed, I will represent it to the Baillie."  "HoLLt, awa, Sir-I'm
Baillie myself!' Probably these cumberers of the
pavement are Baillies too.
Another subject on which great forbearance is
shown, is the endurance of noise in many operations,
where a little care would lessen or entirely remove it.
The movable sides of their long carts rattle. The
loads they carry rattle. By half-past four, A. M., the
milk-carts begin their clattering progress. Many
180 
TIIE CITIES.                 181
of them carry six tin jars, which contain perhaps fifteen gallons apiece, These jars are slipt into six
iron rings, which might be easily lined with leather,
but they are not. At every motion of the cart all
the six give forth their own portion of noise. Add
to this the unusual quantity of rattle of the wheels
on the axle, the shout or whistle or frightful Australian"  Coooa" with which the milkmen summon the
drowsy damsels to come forth with their emnpty
pitchers, and you have got up a nuisance which it
would require a determined anti-clatter company to
put down. Woe be to the sick and wakeful who
have just dropt into a slumber-it is effectually over
for this morning.
Next comes the ice cart, with less commotion, its
driver rings, and in his huge forceps lifts a cube of
transparent solid ice; not the "rotten ice," frozen
and melted, and frozen again, that we call ice in
England; but the pure block cut out of the Rockland Lake, which might  have  been several feet
thick, and frozen a couple of months before it was
broken by the dealer in that frigid but important
and wholesome luxury.
On the Sabbath mornings another noise is added,
which inflicts not headache alonie, but heartache.
By six o'clock ~e news-boys traverse the streets
i
I
I
I
I 
THE  CITIES.
shouting "The Herald, The New Yorker, &c.," furnishing half-a-day's secular reading for all who are so
disposed.   hese boys! lately tattered, and wan,
and timid Irish emigrants look at them fitted out
in second-hand garments, the fitting of which is not
so much to be considered, as how they, destitute,
earned the cash to purchase them. See them
wrestling, scrambling, teasing each other in their
breathing intervals.  Hear their slang wit, impudence, and profanity mingled. Observe their acute
calculating skill. One wants to be off home, and
will "sell out" to the next, giving him the advantage of a paper or two of his " stock in trade,' into
the bargain. Bright fellows! what ready mother
wit, what sharp adoption of trading phrases. How
capable of learning somiething better! Poor waifs,
cast on the world's unholy shore!  I never saw any
of theill without sorrow, excepting a little party of
them who had been induced to join a "boys' meeting," where their sharpened faculties seemed to enable them to apprehend meaning more easily, and
more to enjoy intellectual occupation than sonme of
their peers.
The stores are very handsome, and the reckless
way in which masses of valuable goods are exposed
to the sun inside and to the dust outside, very sur
I
182 
THE CITIES.
prising. Several of the stores occupy a whole block
of buildings-a space large enough for five or six
moderately sized houses.   On some of these one's
eye rests with peculiar complacency: as the fruit of
industry united with integrity. You may be told as
you pass along, " Look  at that fine store.   Its
owner came here in debt-he and his family allowed
themselves no indulgencies, but all worked hard, till
he was able to return to Scotland, assemble his
creditors, and pay up principal and interest. Since
then they have never looked behind them-all has
gone well." I worshipped repeatedly in the church
with such a family, and used to turn and see them
step out of their carriages with as loyal a heart to
them as I have felt to our own beloved Queen,
when I have stayed to see her step out of hers.
Perhaps the very purest pleasure of all the delights afforded me in that whole city, was meeting
with some of my countrymen, now thriving, cheerful,
hospitable, loving-who but a few years before were
care-worn beings, who having strained every fibre to
raise money to carry them, had crossed the ocean
with much trembling. To mingle sympathies in
their thankfulness, as had often been done in their
cares and sorrows at home, seemed to me a treat
that angels might relish. To be fanned in their
ifi                          -  -
I
183 
THE  CITIES.
rocking-chairs, refreshed by their fruits and iced
water, to inquire all their histories, to play with
their children, to go with them to church, and "see
how like old Scotland it was," yea, even to mingle
tears with them at Greenwood Cemetery, over their
honored and departed dead, was a treat worth the
trouble of a voyage across the Atlantic  but the
citizens have made me forget the city.
Broadway is a perfect puzzle-how smaller and
lighter crafts make undemolished way through that
throng of omnibuses, is amazing. Many a street in
London is as much crowded, but I do not suppose
in any one, if you except the vicinity of the Crystal Palace at evening, you could count twenty omnibuses at a time within sight. Yet there is no pressing and driving —but cheerful, smiling courtesy, on
all hands. We had occasion to cross from Jersey
City on Christmas eve, when the roomy steamer
could scarcely afford standing-room for the welldressed throngs of artisans and their families who
were crossing to be ready for to-morrow's holiday.
Iow pleased they looked!  How obliging!  Giving way when they could, or expressing regret to
one another if they could not. Not one tipsy shout,
-not one staggering mortal-no wife or sister looking fearfully on her escort. Ah, Scotland! when
I
184 
THE CITIES.
will Temperance do for thee what it has done for
these crowded cities?
My companions on that evening urged me to look
in on Washington market-and it was a goodly
sight. One does not care about the piles of food —
such masses are to be seen in many a city in nearly
equal quantity-it was the purchasers who. drew my
attention. The good wife laden with cheese, and
beef and ham, and vegetables, and butter, and
candles. The children clustering around helping
to carry her load of plum-cakes or currant loaves,
and her bunch of evergreen. The men, in blue
blouses or with blue trowsers over others, to preserve them from the lime or tar they had been
working in all day, swinging along a huge turkey
by the legs, its head knocking on the pavement as
they went, while a lump of bacon filled the other
hand. No wonder that brother Jonathan is vaunty
and boastful, he has all the inspirations of prosperity and hope.  And then to disceri many an Irish
countenance amiong these purchasers of viands, poor
fellows! who never saw a turkey without its feathers
in their lives, until they left " Ould Ireland," —and
to think the luxury could be had by honest working
for it —it made one's hea.rt happy.
The various devices employed for thrusting their
iI
I
I
185 
THE  CITIES.
business into notice, strikes one as new.  Pillars
erected on the-verge of the pavement are stuck over
with instructions about oyster cellars, and barbers,
and all sorts of eatables and wearables.  The very
boxes that protect the trees are covered with bills
nailed, not pasted on. Flags under your feet have
the name and trade of the occupant of the neighboring store carved on them.   Movable placards
against walls and lamp-posts tell of places of amusement. These, I am sorry to say, are not withdrawn,
or rather new ones are put forth, on the Lord's day,
and often you may see the thoughtless who have just
quitted the sanctuary, turn round at the door of a
theatre to read what can be had to divert them  on
the morrow.   But the style of attracting notice,
which gives a tattered and disorderly aspect to
streets otherwise handsome, is the huge cotton flags
stretched across the centre, in the manner the lamps
are suspended in some ancient European cities.
These present letters of gigantic size.
Before one of these I felt my feet arrested and
ray mind filled with emotions that referred to scenes
and times far, far from the noise of Broadway. It
was an announcement that Sir William Don would
act for the public of New York every evening that
week. Sir William Don! Newton Don! The
v
186 
THE  CITIES.
scene of my children's happiest holidays.  That
thought came first. Mary Lundie's " Hawthorn"
gathered there
" It is the hawthorn blossom,
The fairest flower of spring;
It smiles on earth's green bosom,
And nature's minstrels sing.
A thousand happy voices
Advance to bid it hail;
Oh, how the bee rejoices
To scent it in the gale."
this!  Hias this poor young man
glades to act the droll for the
o reign multitude! Then rose to
Itl cups which had once for some
sideboard, that all the pastors who
ght see them.  A pair of ancient
were in reality, with bottoms like
of worki.anship so rough, that the
the hammer that had beaten the
were still discernible.  These can rly three hundred years ago been
d as extempore communion-cups
d Glencairn, and for the first time
inance of the Supper in the Re a group in the Castle Hall.  This
If
I
I
187
I
+ lDI;!IIDl.I UJ[I~ Ul Ltl
I formed Church to
i        - 
THE CITIES.
heirloom of an ancient house, has descended to a
player!  The blood of this Christian Earl of Glencairn flows still in the veins of that young actor!
And has it come to this!
On festival days, when the city is afloat with
frolic, you will see little flags with the stars and
stripes on the heads of horses, on the roofs of carriages, flying out of windows, and at Barnum's Museum, not only all around the iouse, but flaunting
from it across the street on cords attached to the
chimney tops on the opposite side.
On a stormy day early in December, the coachmakers began to project into the street carriages
with prows formed like those ships of old that carried Greece to Troy-painted, varnished, and gilded
in the handsomest manner-lined and cushioned
most luxuriously, in green -or  crimson embossed
velvet.  And then, for the first time, my eye rested
on a sleigh. But the winter being mild, though a
few times a laborious effort was made to get on in
one, and one saw the thing and heard the bells
tinkling like those on the leading goat or sheep on
the lower Alps, yet they were not generally used.
The snow, during the whole winter, turned to moisture when it did happen to fall.  But they talked
of the sleigh being used instead of the omnibus,
188
I 
THE  CITIES.
and of the men adding another and another pair of
horses each time they reached the point of their
destination, till I was assured that twenty might be
seen in one carriage. 1' And why do they do that?"
" Oh, just for fun!"  They are a lively people, always ready for a " spree;" but I question if the
jaded horses would not have much preferred their
stable, with their corn and hay.
The incessant and heavy traffic digs up and wears
out the pavement of Broadway, so that yearly it requires to be gone over and repaired. It is surprising to see the unwieldy omnibus during the season
for paving, turn down narrow side streets repeatedly
in its lengthened course. Yet so attractive is this
one street, which is like the spinal column of the
city, that they will return to Broadway at the first
block where it is passable, though they have toQ turn
off again in the course of a few hundred yards. A
comical specimen of impulsive character, I don't
presume to say in the American people, but certainly
in one of them, was exhibited by a gentleman in one
of these omni-gatherum vehicles. He informed all
whom it might concern, that he was from Buffalothat he had never heard Jenny Lind, but would give
his ears to hear her or to see her, because of the
beauty of her singing and the benevolence of her
J
189 
190
character. As he could neither see nor hear her,
he was resolved to go and see Tripler Hall which
had       been built for her, and where shie had earned
and           charmed so many thousands.   In the midst of
his hearty harangue, the perverse buss turned off
Broadway, the very street that contained Tripler
Hall! " Ho! stop, let nme out!-can  I never get
to  Tripler Hall?  This is the third buss I have
been         forced to jump out of, for none of them go
straight up Broadway as they used to do." The
enthusiast was calmed by assurances that had he sat
still in the first buss he would have got to Tripler
HIall, and that a fellow-passenger would show him
where to alight. At last the important moment arrived. Buss had again found its way to its favorite
street, and the Buffalo gentleman rushed out, and
rushed into the scene of Jenny Lind's well-merited
triumphs, as if he certainly expected at least
"A shade of song, a spirit air
Of melodies that had been there."
More comfortable dwellings, either for ventilation
in summer's heat, or for warmth in winter's cold, are
nowhere to be found in the world than in New
York. By means of having open doors and windows: so that the morning breeze may circulate free
I
THE CITIES. 
THE  CITIES.
ly through the many inlets and outlets to every
chamber and hall, and then before the sun comes
round in his fervor, excluding his rays by the outside green venetians, the house is kept tolerably
cool; till evening breeze returns, waving the lovely
trees which line the footways, and inviting its admissionl again into the dwelling.
The furnace in the basement warms every corner
in winter, perhaps too completely for health.   At
least in our country we are used to feel the variation
of temperature between the rooms and the hall or
staircase, or between one room and another, to have
rather a bracing and reviving effect.  Besides, the
rush of the sharp, frosty, outward air into lungs
which, for too many hours of the day, have breathed
nothing but the dry, hot atmosphere of the furnace,
is a trial too great for so delicate a texture as lungs
are made of.  This, and the inadequate defence of
the feet, have often been accused as the cause of the
numerous victiins to lung diseases-and I fear with
justice.
There is much ingenuity and taste displayed in
making much of little room.   Even small dwellings
have their neat flower knot behind, and their grapevine over a trellised arch,-and the little aviaries,
conservatories. and green-houses, in very unexpected
I
I
191 
192               THE CITIES.
corners are innumerable. The freedom of vegetation gives encouragement to planters.   It is sometimes even touching to see a tree, which has been
spared in the building of five-story warehouses,
alive in its dusty and dingy recess, and fulfilling all
its calling of bud, blossom, smiling green leaf, and
fruit-bearing. I have looked on such a tree, and
compared it to a Christian choked up in worldly society and occupations, yet drinking in the pure dew
of the Divine Spirit, living and refreshing the surrounding dreariness by his presence.
The seclusion of mind is a subject on which I
have often mused, with admiration of the wisdom
that has so constructed it.  The looker-on cannot
tell why one in the busy multitude that flits by him
laughs and another weeps. And it is well that he
cannot. The inmost heart of himself contains evil
enough for each. And even its hidden joys are
such as might exhale, were they open to the bystander.
Who of all the interested parties that I have
happened again and again to see pressing into a
"Bank for Savings," or seated on the stoop to wait
their turn to enter, could guess why I should be
fixed to the spot, or why my tears should flow at the
sight? My mind flew back to the peaceful parish
I
.I
I
0 
TilE CITIES.               193
of Ruthwell, and there I saw the mild and patient
pastors calculating, and planning, and writing rules,
and correcting them-and at last setting a-going his
new scheme of a Bank, where as small a deposit as
one shilling was to be accepted. Then I saw him
smiling good cheer as he stood by his desk, with his
great ledger before him, while he received the hardearned saving from the horny hand that earned it.
And again I saw him subduing his natural love of retirement, and struggling to awaken the great men of
the land to the value of the scheme. And then again in
London toiling to secure supporters for passing a Bill
in Parliament for the protection of Savings' Banks.
And all this was past-and he who for years labored for the temporal and spiritual welfare of his
people has ceased from his labors. But they have
spread-and as it fell out in Solomon's day, so it
befell him while " no man remembered  the same
wise man whose wisdom saved the city."-cities and
nations far off are profiting by it.  Even so! he
sought not fee nor reward here, but
"I thank Thee for the quiet rest
Thy servant taketh now,
And for the good fight foughten well,
And for his crowned brow."
* Rev. Dr. Duncan, author of the "Sacred Philosophy of
the Seasons."
I
I
I
I
193
THE CITIES.
13
I 
HOTELS are generally well managed, and in excellent order. In frequenting the Temperance houses,
the traveller is sure of society of one stamp, so that
the conversation he may enter into will be of a correct, and very likely of an improving character.
The wholesome "click" of the ice against the
water-pitchers has something re-assuring in its quiet
sound and the gong, giving forth its musical tone,
first in the distant part of the parallelogram, then
swelling nearer: till it passes along the gallery where
your own chamber is situated, and then again sinking into silence at the farther end, summoning all
who will to family worship, gives cheering token
that you are in good society.  It is very pleasant to
meet three or four score of travellers in the saloon
by seven in the morning, and nine at night, to join
in a hymin, led perhaps by a son or daughter of the
house, accompanied by an organ-toned pianoforte.
Then to hear a passage of holy writ, read perhaps by
the master of the hotel, and to join in a prayer by
X ut Bt i               to an   1g  puu     
HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.   195
him, if no clergyman be present, or by a clergyman,
without reference to his denomination, or, as I once
chanced to hear, by a senator.   How calm and safe
the progress of a day so entered upon-and how
orderly is such a household, even though it numbers
at its noonday meal nearly two hundred guests.
Enough has been said by English travellers about
the amazing celerity with which Americans dispatch
their food, and of the knife nearly going down the
throat after it. Though I had no chance at the race
in eating, I generally saw many persons as slow, or
slower than myself. One day, being at leisure to
observe the proceedings of my neighbors, I saw a
very respectable-looking lady reduce one half of an
oval slice of bread to the shape of a horse-shoe by
one goodly bite that she took out of the middle.
This lady introduced herself to me in the saloon,
and-oh Dickens-oh  Trollope-can ye bear the
dismal truth-she told me  she was a Londoner!
Here ended my discoveries as to peculiarities in conduct at table. A gentleman did tell me, that he
saw, at a New York hotel dinner, one person give
his fork to another, with, "Just stick that fork into
that potatoe for me, will you?" His surly, unneighborly neighbor did as he was requested, and left it
sticking there. This was a most ungracious way of
I 
196   HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.
teaching a hasty man to apply to the waiter-yet it
might be useful.
Waiters are always abundant, so that you never
hear them rung for or called in an impatient tone.
They are there, and know what you want as soon as
you do yourself. In Gadsby's, at Washington, their
mute observant attention-one black man ministering to the wants of two whites-was really too affecting. One could not eat-one wanted to get up
and set them down and wait on them. They were
not paid for their services. They were not volunteers in your cause. They could not go away if you
ill-used them.  They were slaves!  They looked
sleek and tranquil, however, and are in general under mild treatment in the District of Columbia.
In a country where everybody travels, the comforts and reasonable charges,of hotels are important.
Some of the arrangements are new to the English.
There is generally, with the transient visitors, a mixture of those who make a permanent residence in
the house. These are not only bachelors and young
clerks, but young married people. Those who. prefer to see what is going on, linger in the saloons of
an evening after leaving the eating-room, when it
often happens that a musical guest, or a professional
person will play and sing for the entertainment of
I
i 
HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.  197
the company. You find as many newspapers as can
be rescued from the reading and smoking-rooms, and
a few books, and sometimes ladies have their work.
It is hardly deemed courteous to write letters in the
saloon, and no provision is made for that in the way
of material. At best, it is an idle life. People
seem waiting for something that rarely comes, in the
way of disembarrassed conversation, something better than talk got up for the occasion, and one yawns
and drops off, and then another, till the whole house
retires to early repose.
The BOARDING HOUSE is not for the accommodation of travellers, but of those who are for some time
from honme, or who have no other home. In busy
cities, and at watering-places, there are thousands so
accommodated.   It is computed that 25,000 strangers are in New York at one season of the year,
some of whom mnay, by their affairs, be obliged to
remain a considerable time. For them, at least for
single gentlemen, the boarding-house may be more
convenient than the English method of lodging.
But for families, and for a permanency, they are not
calculated to promote settled habits, or cultivate
home enjoyments.
It often happens that newly-married people choose
that homeless, uncomfortable method of beginning
I
I 
198   HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.
life, induced by the idea that it is more economical
and less troublesome than having the responsibilities
of a house. The difficulty of procuring "1 helps," or
rather of knowing how to get any good use of them
when procured, is another reason for preferring to
board.
The effect of this plan on the mental and moral
habits appears very unsalutary, and is silently working on the whole of society.  It promotes improvident marriages, as people marry to board, who could
not afford to keep house. It promotes selfishness,
as persons who are all paying for everything alike,
and who-the female part at least-have not much
to occupy them, get jealous and watchful lest others
get any advantage which they do not enjoy. It
promotes epicurism, as there must be a table kept
beyond the style of the real circumistances of each
individual; and as they pay for it, they feel that
they have a right to be fastidious and critical. It is
distressing to see the children's greedy eyes roam
over all the dishes, liking this and hating that, and
having their plates heaped with all manner of incongruous things to prevent their disturbing the
company, by crying or exclaimning. Besides the
little creatures get the manners of grown persons,
and talk away, polite and agreeable by the way, but
.
0
1..,  I...  I...,   
HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.   199
forward and in an unhealthy attitude withal.  I re member seeing a little fellow about five years old,
who had found a shining button with a broken eye,
go the round of a large saloon, in the most gentle manly way, inquiring of each if "' you had lost that,
as he had found it, and it would give hian pleasure
to restore it to you if you could claim it."
To dwell with persons in whom you have no
special interest, or whom you only, or hardly, put up
with, is the reverse of improving to the heart. For
a young pair to begin by living in the presence of
others, when their first year is required to learn'
each other's peculiarities and how to assimilate and
how to    forbear, seems not merely disagreeable, but
dangerous. A word, a look, an unintentional neglect, may in the early stages of matrimonial union,
wound deeply. To leave the wound unrevealed, or
the neglect unexplained, cannot fail to make the
matter worse.   In such a case, there is drooping of
spirits and repining, or what is still more  dangerous, there is sympathy offered by some officious onlooker, and accepted, to the further alienation of the
sufferer. How long in this way, mnay those who are
really attached and fitted to. cherish each other, be
kept apart; and how unlike the cheerful, confiding 
200   HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.
sociality of one's own fireside. where, according to
the old song,
"I can laugh when I'm merry,
And sigh when I'm sad."
For the male sex the evils are not so great, as they
set out early to business, and are engaged the chief
hours of the day.  But the females  unless they
have a taste for study, what can they do in their
chamber but attend a little to their garments, or
gossip a little with the lady in the next room?
Happy are they, if, after their toilet is made, they
have a call to make, or an errand to a store, and an
apology for causing the store-keepers to tumble over
their goods, little to their advantage. How thus
should they acquire domestic habits, or be at all
more prepared to 11 go to housekeeping" when the
time comes, than they were at the outset? They
cannot know what to expect from servants, nor how
to manage their tempers, nor how to show them what
they do not know.   One has actually heard of people returning to the boarding-house system, because
they could not find any comfort in a house of their
own! Anything like the domestic altar, and family
order, with all the consequent and useful responsibilities are prevented by this plan. Young persons 
HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.  201
are thrown in each other's way, that had better never
have met; and the children cannot be well kept
apart, however averse the parents of one family may
be to the manners and training of another.
The young men are driven to frequent places of
public amusement, because they have no private
apartment in the house, or do not like the people
they meet in those which are public. For their
sakes the Sermons to young men are very well devised. It was pleasant to see many hundreds of
them occupying quiet, comfortable seats, and listening to saving truths, eloquently delivered.
It was the custom in earlier days, when the States
were in the colonial stage of their existence, for the
families. when the cares of day were over, to dress
and sit upon the piazza, conversing, cooling themselves, and frolicking, as the humor took them; and
rare tales are told of that olden time, when wary
parents could not preserve the hearts of lovely
daughters from being wounded by the archer who
has slain his thousands. One that particularly took
my fancy may be related. A youth saw some fair
sisters in a milliner's shop, got desperate in his admriration of one of them, and there and then made
up his mind that he would have her to wife, though
the stars should be against him.  He learnt their
i 
202    HOTELS AND  BOARDING-HOUSES.
name, and by-and-bye discovered their residence,
and the stoop that was so happy as to afford them
evening refreshment. He put on his best looksand they were very good, as his portrait indicatesand his best manners.   He passed and repassed, as
if in search of some one, and then with a very honest-looking apology for interrupting their pleasant
conversation, inquired for  Dr.  Somebody.   The
ladies had never heard of him. " Well, but he must
be thereabout;" and so he pursued his search, and
presently returning, told them that it had been to
no purpose.   When,  an evening or two after, he
was passing, he could not do less than salute the
fair group; and so he continued, till he was invited
to mount the steps; and thus, the Rubicon being
surmounted, the rest went on as it were of course,
and ended " as merry as a marriage-bell." Their
descendants tell the tale with as much pleasure as a
hero relates his battles, or a traveller his adventures.
These evening frolics of the stoop having become
out of date, something like a substitute for them has
arisen. In winter, ladies who have been all day in
their walking dresses, will about tea-time polish
themselves a little, not knowing who may step in;
but as evening is the leisure time of the young gentlemen, the belles are sure of seeing some one. 
HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.   203
About eight o'clock one and another drops in, and
the sparks of lively and gleeful repartee which are
instantly kindled in the company, partake still a little
of the humors of the stoop.  One was glad to see
the young mnen escaping from their desks and from
the dreariness of their boardinghouse to mingle for
an hour among fireside harmonies, which might remind them how it was with them before they quitted
the old roof-tree of home, or lead them to hope how
it may be again with them when prosperous circumstances permit them in turn to become family men.
No stronger or more painful evidence exists of
the migratory habits of the natives, and of the multitude of homeless emigrants, than is daily witnessed
in the dead-letter-room of the General Post Office
at Washington.
Weekly, columns of the newspapers in every city,
contain lists of unclaimed letters, and thus they are
not sacrificed without exertion to bring owners and
their letters together. When that fails they are
finally congregated at the centre of government, and
consigned to that chamber from which, as from a
condemned cell, they only come forth to suffer the
extreme sentence of the laws. It was a sad sight,
that spacious hall full of letters. The surrounding
table behind which sat the busy gentlemen, whose
II
I 
204    HOTELS AND  BOARDING-HOUSES.
irksome task it is to open them, were covered with
letters-so were the desks and shelves by the walls
-so was the floor, where they were heaped up like
a little hay-rick, their secrets all torn open and
thrown down like common things.  On one side is
suspended on a machine a large sack, the receiver of
these opened papers; which, when it is stuffed hard
and fast till it can contain no more, is succeeded by
another and another, and then having sacks enough
to load a cart, they are sent off to the common to be
consumed. The idea of the manner in which such
things are managed in my own city, arises in painful
contrast to the mind.   There a misdirected order to
a tradesman, or inquiry about a servant, or any trifling paper, comes back to the writer reverently
sealed and enveloped with a printed"  ON HER MAJESTY'S SERVICE," and a "not found," or "removed,"
or "dead," marked on it.  The hasty inquiry, why
is not this done here? rises to the lips. But it need
not be uttered-a minute's reflection brings the answer. The country is vast. The States are many.
Favorite names are repeated on many cities, towns,
and villages, till you may find ten places known by
the same name.  If the letter-writer omits to add
the name of the State also, there are nine chances
against the letter finding its owner. Then the mul 
HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.  205
titude of blundering, of illegible. of nonsensical addresses is incalculable, what can they do? If they
cannot convey them as they gladly would, the next
best thing is, after a competent time, to destroy
them.
The heap was a sad one. Sheets overflowing in
fine delicate writing.  How much beautiful sentiment
might be there! Sheets, out of which had been
plucked pretty little stockings, boots, gloves, muffatees, collars, purses, all such small love-gages as you
could imagine wrought by kind grandmothers, and
loving aunts and sisters, meant for a far different
destination than a transient rest on the letter-opener's shelves. In one case there was a large envelope
filled with loam. What could it be? Was it the
specimen of the soil of a field to be purchased? Was
it sacred earth to plant some cherished flower in?
Was it from Jerusalem? "11Her very dust to them is
dear." None could tell. The informing paper was
extracted and consigned to the ever-gathering heap.
"But should he write and I not get it,
'Twere but a paper lost."
True, but a paper that might relieve some homesick heart-a paper that might reveal the truth
which has for months been longed for. A paper 
206   HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.
fraught with weighty messages of joy or woe to
somebody. It was not, however, the beautifully
written and well-filled sheets, that one felt most disposed to be sentimental over. The active pen which
wrote these will write more. The next will, perhaps, be more fortunate.   But the rough uncourtly
paper, the awkward, unaccustomed penmanship.
The sheet bought for one penny after a month's
thinking about it-the letter written with pains and
much trouble, and then carefully posted in a far-off
land, which was once his home, to tell "Sandy," or
"Patrick," that his parents still live and think of
him, or that " Janet" or " Kathleen" would still be
in the mind to come out and redeem her long
plighted troth, as soon as he can remlit the dollarsthe 11 yours till death." Is it lost to him that all
important document! Is it to perish on the comm on at that auto da fe!
Is there no means to avoid these sad inflictions?
Will they not cease until all the emigrants have
gone over, and all the restless dwellers in the States
have settled down, and all the correspondents have
learnt to write legibly?  Who can tell  but probably the melancholy heap would be reduced to one
half its present size if it were more the custom to
live in their own houses, so that people might have
I 
HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.  207
homes, instead of flitting about as they do from one
boarding-house to another.
The children born and brought up in boardinghouses, will never look back on the domestic hearth,
and the lively nursery, as they do who are born at
home. Regret is the deeper, when one thinks of a
people so essentially Saxon, and so full of fireside
charities as the Americans are, thus imperceptibly
dropping into Gallican manners; kindling many an
alluring ignis fatuus, and quenching or neglecting
the very light of life.
When our good ship after many days' digging and
snorting her way through cross-winds, and a stormy
ocean, reached smoother water, and caught the first
glimpse of the Neversinks, it was delightful to observe mutual gratulations, and talk about expectant
relatives who will be listening for the gunfire, or for
the news-boys: and about which will wait at home,
and which will fly down to the dock: &c.  Every
one became lively, and some musical.  One gentleman sung "home, sweet home," and all seemed to
sympathize. A lady who could not speak English,
and whose seat was by me at dinner, had oftenf endured such French as my benevolence induced me
to inflict on her.  "What is that?" she inquired,
"home-home-je ne comprends pas' home, sweet
I
i
I
I 
208    HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.
home.'" It was strange to have the conviction
forced on me, that among all the elegant and copious
" tournures" of the French tongue, there is no word
to express the idea of home any more than there is
that of comzfort. "Cela veut dire," replied I, " chez
soi." " Pardon, Madame, chez soi qu'est ce que
cela veut dire?" " On est bien aise de rentrez chez
soi. On le trouve bien doux de revenir a la maison
chez soi-chez soi"-" Ah," said she with a disappointed shrug.  "chez soi, et voila tout!"  Woe
worth the day when its boarding-houses, however
useful and pleasant an accommodation they be to
strangers, have become all the "home" Americans
know, and when they shrug and say " Chez soi et
voila tout" of " Home, sweet home."
I 
IF the descriptions of foreign travellers be not
exaggerated, and some of the scenes of domestic
life to be found in periodicals, painted by native
pencils, be not for effect's sake colored too highly,
we must suppose that housekeepers have their own
difficulties in "getting along," and that society is at
present in the attitude of an inverted pyramid, the
apex much in danger of being bruised flat and
mingled with the superincumbent weight of its base.
Nevertheless, we English are not in a condition to
judge the matter unless we take in various considerations, which require to be searched about for,
and hunted out of unsuspected quarters.  In a
newspaper account of a trial, you may see how a
scavenger in the witness-box states that "when he
first observed the gentleman he was filling the dungcart;" or in visiting that dreary police-prison, "the
Tombs," a name as dreary  as itself, you will be
gravely told, "The lady in this cell is not connected
14
A,ort Vnmftotir. 
THE DOMESTICS.
with me, we only live together for the present."
You might almost think they were associated together by choice.  The "lady," your informant, has
huge glittering ear-rings, and jet-black ringlets, and
the "lady," her "associate for the present," has an
ugly black eye, however she came by it.  With this
view of gentlemen and ladies we may begin to susspect that it is not the pyramid of society which
has suffered inversion, but the old ordering of language. Suppose this, and your astonishment ceases,
when you hear that a person rings at your door and
asks if "the woman of the house be at home, for I
am the lady that have come to help her (to) cook."
Another circumstance we, as lookers-on, have to
learn. In that country, so plentifully supplied with
luxurious food, there are no distinctions made between what is consumed in the dining-room and the
hall. No fruits are so costly or rare as to be
treasured up to appear again on the family table.
There are no viands which the domestics are prohibited to touch. A lady receives without surprise,
as an explanation why her bell has been so long unanswered, that her waiting-woman had not had anything comfortable since breakfast, and was finishing
a glass of jelly recommended to her by the housekeeper.
210 
THE DOMIESTICS.
In two houses situated in cities many hundred
miles apart, the following little incident has sur prised me:-The children had been allowed to sit
up late to see the guests.  They had  bid goodnight and gone away, but presently returned, and
when on a second or third return, mamma was
troubled and inquired, she had for reason what she
seemed to receive as satisfactory, that nurse was
having her ice. and could not come till she was
ready. That part of the company's supper would
have been spoiled for nurse's taste if she first put
her charge to bed.  If this arises from the goodtempered indulgence of the mistress, I venture to
think it is carried beyond discretion. If she cannot
help herself, there is need for amendment in the
order of things.
A lady told me what befel her brother in the
"far West." Let it be always remembered, that the
state of things there is so new and utterly different
from the east, and the West seems so indefinitely
far, that eastern people do not shrink from criticizing manners and notions there, and are also ready
to invite the observations of strangers.
The brother was a young lawyer who had left a
rising city, the scene of his labors, and gone to
ruralize in his clearing, where his house and its ap
211 
T[IE DOMESTICS.
pliances were as comfortable as is usual in such
circumstances.  Some of his brethren of the bar
met him at the assizes and told him they were coming to see his settlement and dine with him next
day. The friendly youth hastened home intent on
his hospitalities, intending that never heartier dinner smoked on board, than should grace his tomorrow. He was sorely disconcerted to find that
his housekeeper had gone home, without leave or
warning. He rode from clearing to clearing, seeking" help."  But none was to be had, as everybody
was as independent and averse to servitude as himself. He was musing on his own talent for roasting turkey and boiling ham, and about to return
crestfallen and discomfited to receive his friends,
when a damsel compassionated his case so as to propose to "go cook" on condition of being at table
with the guests, as she would be no man's servant,
and had never cooked a dinner of which she had not
partaken. The terms were gladly accepted. Without doubt her independent character, and the American respect for the female sex, secured her becoming treatment, but one feels persuaded that the
awkwardness of her position must have produced
some quarrel between the compassion and the dignity which had, when united, placed her in so new
I
212 
THE  DOMESTICS.               213
and curious a situation. This, however, it must be
re-urged, was in the fJr West.
Another circumstance which never could have
occurred in England may be related.
On a very stormy and cold Sunday, having caught
cold at morning church, I resolved to remain by the
fireside in my chamber in the afternoon. and purposely invited a young Scotch woman to come to me,
when all should be gone to church. She was a
stranger, and a sudden and early widow, and but
for the benevolence of the friends I visited, would
have been without a shelter. I wished to discuss
her prospects, to let her tell her troubles, and take
the great relief to a full heart, if she needed it, of
having a good hearty cry beside me. I wished to
try to lead her to the only consolation which will
never fail, and to tell her of the faithfulness of the
widow's God. She had scarcely been persuaded to
take a seat, when the old housekeeper introduced
herself uninvited. When asked quietly if she wanted anything, she said it was very cold, she wished to
put more wood on the fire. After she had done
this, she deliberately drew forward a rocking-chair,
established herself in the centre of the hearth, and
began to tell me of the ignorance of my young countrywoman, who, when she first came, would have
I 
214            THE DOMESTICS.
dined with the colored people if she had not been
there to rescue her from such a disgrace. When
asked what harm it would have done her if she.had,
she seemed to discover that all people from Caledonia were alike savage in their ideas, and said, "She
was a native American, they all knew better than to
associate with such; keep them at a distance-if you
give them an inch, they will take an ell. She had
rather eat all her meals standing in her own bed-room
all her life than eat with one of them." "Well,
now, that seems strange to me,-cook is dark, every
morsel you eat comes through colored hands; and
Ben and Will that wait at table do everything for
us, and I don't feel that we get any harm from
them."   "Wait! yes, that's another thing-keep
them under, and they do well enough; but let them
once look up the least bit, and there's an end of
them-they won't do no more good after that."
"What will you say when I tell you, I have dined
at table with a colored gentleman, and found him
well-bred, well-informed, and a true Christian."
The old lady rose from her seat, and I expected she
was going to avoid my pestilent society, but she reconsidered the matter, and, to my regret, re-seated
and re-rocked herself.  "Well, he might be a Christian, I believe some on them are."  "If they are 
THE DOMESTICS.
then our heavenly Father does not dislike darkies
as you do."  " No, to be sure, for He made them."
"And if they get to heaven, and you get to heaven,
what will you do about them there?"  " Oh! that
will be all settled when the time comes." With
such troublesome converse did the aged domestic obtrude herself upon me in my own chamber, till I
proposed to read to them, and then she fell asleep.
My unbidden guest was awakened by the return
from church of the rest of the family, and was, and
still is, unconscious of having committed what was
in my eyes a most unwonted act. It must be confessed that, though she received no invitation or encouragement, yet after she had comne, my curiosity
was excited to see how such a visit might turn, so
that I gave no indication of annoyance at her presence.
In spite of these manners, which, though not what
we are used to, we are not entitled to pronounce
upon as being bad, servants seem to do all that is
expected of them, at least, so far as a visitor might
observe. The only thing we found difficulty about,
was how to get our shoes cleaned. Mine were laid
on the hearth day by day, where the housemaid in
making the fire must be obliged to see and remove
them. That did not. procure a brushing. I have
215 
_________   ______                         4 ~
216              THE DIOMESTICS.  F.
put them outside the chamber-door: and seen them
kicked about andt tumbled over, still the soil was
left on themr.  I have pLt them on again, wondering
if no ragged school-boy, with red-flannel shirt, and a
blacking-box might be found in the streets as in London-and if fouad, how one could employ him.  In
short, where all besides was hospitality, comfort. and
elegance, there stood your boots with the mud of yesterday in bright brown rimns.  When at last the favor
was asked to have them brushed, you saw an expression
of countenance whieh. it ought to be told, was never
seen on any other occasion, that betrayed that somnlething about this one service is offensive or disagreeable in a high degree.   At last I inquired of a sensible lady what was wrong, and was told that shoecleaning is counted an office so menial, that it is beneath the dign.ity of freemen to condescend to such
an icmploynent,-and then it wa,s explained wlhy
everybody wore India rubbers, or highly-polished
leather, which can be washed with soap, water, and
a sponge and having acq(uired this knowledge it was
easy to possess oneself of the means of having comfortable feet again.
A gentleman whom I knew slightly in early days
was fOr too much of a democrat in his notions of
government to put up with such freedcm as is to be
I
I
I
I
i
II
A       1,. 
THE DOMESTICS.
had under a limited monarchy, and spurning his native shores, he took refuge in the "model republic,"
that he might be entirely free. After a few days'
residence, when he found his boots perseveringly left
untouched, he got his first lesson on the impossibility
of having all things ordered to his liking even in a
republic.  He asked in a haughty tone, "why his
boots were not cleaned," when he was told by a damsel from green Erin, that he "did not suppose she
came all the way to America to clean shoes. She
was as good as he was here, whatever she had been
at home."
It really seems that many of the errors as to what
is becoming in the several classes of society, originate more with the extravagant and unfounded expectations of the new-comers, than with those who
have seen the light first under a republic. The
poor Milesian, who seeing a goodly pile of hams at
the door of a store, said, " This is a free countryI'm hungry-I'll take one," and shouldering it,
walked off, was stopped by the policeman, to inquire
how he came by it, and thus got proof that freemen
have rights, peculiar and individual, as well as nations.
If we balance between this style of freedom, and
the indolence and refusals to work that are born of
217 
I
THE DOMESTICS.
fulness of bread, conceit, and pride, I suppose the
scale will turn in favor of the wholesome though untaught aspirants after the dignity of independence
rather than in favor of the pampered minions of luxury. A friend of my own, calling in London on an
Earl, was admitted by the lusty porter, but having
made his way thus into the outer hall, no one seemed
prepared to help him onward. lie saw behind a
screen four powdered lackeys busily engaged at
cards, and called to one to show him up to Lord
, when presently an altercation arose about
whose turn it was to go up, and who had answered
the last bell. It should be stated that my friend
went without equipage, his great-coat over his arm,
in as simple state as did the Bishop of Ohio, when
he could with difficulty find admission to the palace
of the Bishop of London. The gentleman began
quietly to ascend the stairs, saying, " I shall go up
to the library and tell his Lordship that his people
are too much engaged in gambling to have leisure to
show his guests uip." This produced a rush among
the pampered crew, as if they all wished to share the
fatigue and interruption occasioned by their m-ster's
visitor.
Is there not more of mental vigor and honesty,
also, in the American struggle after independence,
218 
I
THE DOMESTICS.
even where its true character is mistaken. than in
this?
It has been said in explanation of the exceeding
fragile and delicate appearance of the young mothers, that their health is injured by the ceaseless exertion and anxiety they undergo in consequence of
not obtaining domestics, especially nurses, in whom
they can confide.  Certain it is, that to an eye accustomed to dwell on the vigorous aspect and rosy
health of English women, there is pain in observing
the pallid, languid loveliness of many of the women.
The effect was such on me, that in my first voyage
up the Hudson, when I saw a lady rise to cross the
floor of the saloon, I felt inclined to offer her my
help, under the impression that she had just recovered from a fever. But it may be fairly conjectured
that the want of the habit of taking plenty of open
air exercise, and the too lavish variety of foods, affect the health more than domestic exertions.
The simplicity with which intelligent and ladylike women go about their affairs at home, gave me
never-ceasing pleasure.  Persons of thle same rank
in Scotland lend a hand in domestic matters on occasion, as they do in America, but they do it secretly,
as if ashamed.   You  may live in the house, and
never suspect that the lady washes a cup, or arranges
I
I
219 
THE I)OMESTICS.
the dessert or the tea-cakes, and never see her apron.
While the American, emancipated from the ceremoniies and thraldoms that wind themselves by degrees
around our social systems, puts on a sensible apron,
that covers her all round, takes her pretty oaken
pail with its shining brass hoops, her swab (a miniature of the implement with which the sailor washes
his deck) and her tray, and begins operations on the
breakfast table, inviting you not to withdraw, but
chat with her while she puts all straight-it being
Monday, her maids are in the laundry.   This is
common sense, and most enjoyable, putting all parties at ease.  This result was produced most effectually, and in a naive manner, on our first visit to an
elegant mansion in the hill country.
A party of eight or ten had made an incursion on
the hospitable family. We had finished a most capital tea-supper, consuming animal food, tarts, and
preserves, together with what we call tea in England,
and were amusing ourselves by hearing the histories
of persons whose portraits adorned the walls of the
large drawing-room. When the bright lady seemed
to conclude a mental deliberation in vocal sounds,
"I suspect I won't mind these English ladies; the
people must be all busy to-night, it's Saturday, so
I'll wash the cups." With that her page was called,
-J
i
I
I --
220 
THE DOMESTICS.
who produced all the needful apparatus, and ran to
and fro, disposing the china as it was washed in the
closets with glass doors, which occupied the anteroom.  While we were not deprived of the brilliant
sallies of the washer, which doubtless were all the
more lively, that she had no uneasy household care
restraining her.
Whatever may exist in the interior, the difficulty
with respect to servants is fast vanishing away on
the seaboard, under the amazing influx of Irish people..In general, they make capital servants. They
are quick at learning, obliging, and cheerful; and,
if you but light on such as are trustful and
honest, of which there are many, you will be very
well off. I have seen two sisters and a brother, each
I think having come over singly, serving in one family, all under the influence of true religon and members of a church. But the great difficulty is, that
most of the Irish are Romanists. They are active
and industrious, but they are under the dominion of
the priests. They go to confession, and then what
becomes of your family secrets if you have any?
They engaged with you to attend family worship,
but that has been confessed among other sins, and
from that first confession begins their prohibition.
They are seen no more at morn and eve bending at
L    __        __ __
I
I
I
i
i
221 
THE DOMESTICS.
prayer with the rest.  It is in vain that resistance
is made; and one, otherwise suitable domestic is
dismissed after another, with the resolution that
no priest shall regulate the affairs of your family. The process goes on, and at last the wearied
mistress gives in. and punishes herself no more by
sending away useful helps.
There are many domestic influences silently flowing from these popish servants, which excite doubt
when one hears the cheerful and confident assertions
that popery must expire under free institutions,that it is expiring,-that it never can make head in
the United States. Is it doing nothing when it banishes all the servants from a share in domestic religious observances, and gets your people away at the
hest of a priest to attend certain funerals and keep
certain festivals, whose mysteries are unknown to
Protestants? I heard of- a girl complaining to her
mistress that it cost her four dollars out of her last
month's wages, to pay for carriages and attend funerals of people whom she did not know, but whom
the priest wished to have buried respectcably. Is it
nothing to have a person in your nursery, who instead
of singing to her charge a hymn about the Saviour,
will teach them a " Hail  Mary!"  Is it nothing to
have them do what I saw done by a very respectably
222 
THE DOMESTICS.                223
dressed nursq in the Cathedral at Baltimore, while
we were walking round to examine the paintings.
She led her little girl to the holy-water font, and
signed her with the cross. She led her to a pew,
and taught her to kneel quietly while she recited her
paternoster.  She led her to the altar, and made
her bend her knees before the picture of a saint;
I forget if it were the Mother of Jesus or not.
And again, as they went out, she crossed the dear
little one with holy-water. Walking along the street
beside them  on coming out, the child put out her
little hand confidingly to one of our party, and cheerfully trotted along when the hand was taken; the
nurse explaining that the little one had recently lost
her mother, and imagined that as we were in mourning we must belong to her. One did not know
whether more to pity the nurse whose zeal was so
true and yet so dark, or the motherless one who was
under the tender training of an honest but misguided
woman.
Is popery having no influence, when in accordance
with its usual treachery, it insinuates female Jesuits
-lay sisters —now into this family, now into that,
in the guise of domestics, to learn family secrets and
discover vulnerable characters-? There are alarming
revelations made from the confessional of William 
THE DOMESTICS.
Hogan, quondam Roman Catholic priest in Ireland
and America.
Thoughtless and worldly parents who send their
children to convents to procure for them cheap
and elegant education, expose them without the
guard of previous instruction, to the eye-attracting
and sense-deluding power of popery. If there be
found in the character the devotional element   and
if life in its early stages is shaded by disappointment, or its occupations be found unsatisfying, how
readily does thought revert to the tranquillity of the
nunnery and the narratives of the sisterhood about
their world-exclusive happiness. Home has taught
them nothing of true religion, they naturally take
refuge in all the religion they know anything of
without discerning that it is false, and thus we hear
of not a few of the educated classes falling into that
snare.
An instance of the way this quiet, insinuating
poison works, was the talk of a wide circle while we
were in the United States. The story reached us
but one remove from the parties acting in it, and
we had reason to know its leading features to be true,
from many other quarters.
An interesting young lady, who longed for more
satisfying enjoyments than could be derived from a
I
224 
THE DOMESTICS.
heartless round of gayety, obtained leave of her parents to retire for a short time to a convent merely
to rest and be quiet. The nuns and confessors plied
their vocation, and persuaded the poor child, that
she would find the rest she sought in taking the vail.
Her figure and the circle she moved in, rendered
her vows a circumstance calculated to produce a
sensation; and heartily did the vailed and blackserged sisterhood give themselves to the production
of a grand tour de theatre at the ceremonial that was
to accompany her renunciation of the world. They
sent for the dressmaker who had adorned her for
scenes of folly, and carefully was she measured, and
minute were the descriptions of the white satin, and
blond, and bows, and white roses, with which the
bride of heaven was to be adorned and crowned, to
make the world which she was to renounce appear
the finer, and her sacrifice to the Church the greater.
The intimidated dressmaker heard with wonder the
volubility of the sombre sisterhood on blonds, and
festoons, and rosettes, and at last inquired if she
ordered all these fine things at a store, in whose
name must it be done? who was responsible for the
debt she was to incur? The Lady Abbess replied
that the mother of the young lady, who was cognizant of and consenting to the whole affair, would
15
225 
THE DOMESTICS.
discharge the bill. The order was taken, not to
the store, but to the mother, who learnt for the first
time the gulf on the brink of which her neglected
child stood. And so, here was a bold lie told by
the head of a religious house to aid in entrapping
the seeker of true peace.
The indignant and wrathful father went to the
Nunnery to claim his child. He could not see her,
nor could she be given up. He then went to the
Bishop, where he again met with a refusal; and it
was only after he informed the Holy Father that
his child, if so devoted, would become a burden on
the Convent, as he would never give her a cent
lest she should bestow it on them, that they unloosed
their covetous grasp, and suffered her to return to
the parental home.
It is very true that many, on discovering the
treachery, untruthfulness, and despotism of popery,
flee'from it, to fall untaught into the power of Infidelity, not so superstitious, but quite as unenlightened and as bold in evil as that system from which
they have escaped. Surely no true Protestant can
rejoice in such falling away as this. As politicians,
both parties must be equally unsound, and unfit to
bear influence in the affairs of a Christian nation.
If the Infidel votes for misrule, and the Papist for
226 
THE DOMESTICS.
the dominion of Popery, they are more likely to
coalesce with each other to gain their object, than
with any other party in the State. The Roman
Catholic Archbishop is understood to wield complete authority over the disposal of every popish
vote in the city; and in New York, if I was rightly
informed, the influence of Popery, not only in the
municipal government, but in the returns to the Legislature and Congress, is, for the present, in the
ascendant. It is so by Papists going with the party
that promises most to favor them. Popery acts by
no fixed rule. Its principles, its motives, and its acts
alike shun the daylight of truth-and hence its power, and the danger arising from it. Its power works
not only in the vicinity of the ballot-box, but in the
sacred sanctuary of the homes and nurseries of the
cities; and every note of caution on the subject, however feeble, ought to be deemed friendly.
The same method of hearing where servants are
to be found, is used in the United States as with
us. What is here called a Register, is there called
an Intelligence Office. But in either case, it is not
persons of the highest character that need to enter
their names in such lists. The numerous strangers
who are driven to extremities before they find situations adopt methods of seeking them, which are
227 
228              THE DOMESTICS.
startling and new to visitors in the country. I have
been repeatedly stopped in the streets of New York
with the question, " Do you want any help?" followed up with, " Well, then, do you know any family
that does?" And on one occasion the charm of a
lovely sunset drive amid the elegant villas, and
shady trees, and glancing waters of Staten Island,
was destroyed for me by the address of a nice-looking young woman on that subject. She rushed out
of the gate of a handsome house, almost under our
horses' feet, and obtested us with all the eloquence of
an Irish tongue, to stop, to listen, and to procure
her a place. " She had been five days off the ocean.
She had been advised to come to this Island, because it was full of respectable families. She had
gone from house to house for two days. No one
wanted her  no one cared for her.   Och hone! she
was homeless-she was penniless-she was friendless. What could she do?" She wrung her despairing hands, and her tears streamed down unwiped.
We  told her of Intelligence Offices-feeling that
they were but poor helps.  We spoke to her of hope
-of asking help of the God who had brought her
safely across the sea-and gave her what would secure her a few nights' lodgings, but left her where
we met her, weeping on the road. If the poor stran 
THE DOMESTICS.                229
ger had had courage to leave the thronged vicinity
of the city, she would doubtless soon and gladly
have been engaged on a farm.  Yet one does not
wonder that the heart of a female should faint and
shrink from such an effort. She is tempted to remain in the crowd by the likelihood of forming an
engagement, and she likes to be in the midst of her
own country people.
It is not only within the range of emigrant ships,
that this out-of-doors and from house to house
method of seeking places is followed. In the pretty
town of Springfield, Mass., a very respectable looking middle-aged person addressed to me the same
inquiry. Being desirous of knowing if really good
servants adopt such a method, I inquired what place
she desired to occupy. She replied, that she had
acted as cook, and as laundress, in some of the best
houses in the neighborhood.
The influx of people, which is a perpetual stream,
must speedily lessen the difficulty of procuring, and
also of managing "helps."
I 
NOTHING in America comes over one's feelings as
so unlike home, as the manner in which everything
is conducted relating to the burial of the dead.
On our landing we heard that the earth was that
day to receive all that remained of a venerable and
excellent lady, to see whom was one of the day
dreams indulged in when preparing to cross the
ocean. She had been born in a house, which for
many years was my happy dwelling. A degree of
almost romantic sympathy, had existed between us,
fostered by messages and pictures of her early home,
so that the news that I should not see her, inflicted
a real disappointment.
The next best thing, was to honor her memory
by waiting on the last obsequies.
So much are we the children of habit, that the
sight of a polished mahogany receptacle shrunk me,
as if there were an absence of reverence or of sorrow in parting with her, betrayed in the very color
I
I
'OT4p'funfrato. 
THE FUNERALS.
of her coffin. It is true I had seen a colored coffin
once-but it was that of a Russian Princess, covered with crimson velvet, and bedizened with all
the blazoned heraldry which the death within mocks
at, and holds at its true worth, a show of grandeur
which is frequently the substitute for tears.
What was my amazement, nay, confusion, that
very evening, while driving through the brilliant
streets, to see whole stores set forth, with coffins of
all sizes leaning against the walls —one black to
show that they could be had in that fashion, all the
others glancing in bright polish, and some with
shining  rows and figures of yellow nails.  Coffins
tall and short, for aged persons, and for babes, pattern coffins for dolls, with a stand in the centre of
the room covered with glass, exhibiting fashions of
last garments to choose from. Everything has its
fashion.-In China it is said they mourn in yellow.
With- us it is all black, deep black, according to the
old ballad
"In black hung the kitchen,
In black hung the hall,
In black hung the dining-room,
Parlor and all."
Lament for Lady Jane Seymour.
In America the mourning is lighter, briefer, and
I
I
231 
THE FUNERALS.
if it happens not to suit, black garments are not
assumed at all. This, in certain circumstances, is
very right. Many a poor Scotch family will run in
debt rather than not adopt sable decencies, or they
will abstain from public worship for months, rather
than attend on it in colored clothes. But polished
shining coffins! a show-room of them, as smart in
its way as that of a tailor or a milliner! One must
have lived a life-time in the one country, and then
seen the other, before you can know how the heart
shivers at the sight. One of the Broadway stores
you will find still open at midnight; its lamp still
glaring and reflected from those shining surfaces
into the outer darkness, and a man the watcher of
the place, seated in the midst, moving his head in
drowsy noddings, the dreary living thing present.
Within or below the place they have accommodation for the remains that may be sent there under
the clouds of night. Why such unwonted provision?
Is it not enough to prepare the narrow house when
it is needed? and may not the clay repose where
the spirit left it, till the hour of its last deposit?
No, it does not suit-and here again we meet the
effect of boarding-house living and dying.   The
living, and healthy, and gay, do not like to hear of
death so near them. Many die in the house un
232 
THE FUNERALS.
known to the mass of the boarders, and hence the
convenience of ready-made coffins, and midnight remova]s of remains to the undertaker's, and of hasty
funerals. Thus is death deprived of its suitable impression, and the solemn thoughts naturally associated with a spirit's entrance into the invisible world
are dissipated. People seem to live in a hurry,
to love, to die, to be mourned, and in too many
cases to be forgotten in a hurry, which, in this dying world, when presently it will be said of each of
the living, "and he died," is an unwise condition.
The little glass door opposite the face in the
coffin lid, also hurts English feeling. It seems a
compromise between the popish fashion of the exposure of the body dressed as in life, and the protestant custom of closing up reverently all that is
left, to wait the sound of the last trumpet. Were
it not usual to inter very speedily, this exposure of
the countenance, which seems to me afflicting, would
probably not be practised. With us it could not do
at all.
In the middle ranks in New York it is usual for
any neighbors that choose to enter the house of
mourning, and look upon the corpse. A Scotch
lady whose feelings revolted-against such an exhibition, said she was forced to send the very disobliging
i
I
I
233 
THE FUNERALS.
message to the many who rung her bell, that she
could not admit strangers, and allowed of no such
custom. She observed very wisely, that she feared
such familiarity with the aspect of death, had rather
a hardening than a softening tendency, and that she
had been shocked to hear young girls and boys remarking on the "natural" or "life-like," or "deathlike" appearances before them, as coolly as they
would criticize a picture or a dolL
In England, Christian parents have experience
of the solemnizing effect on their offspring, when
first conducted to look upon the frame that no
longer breathes and looks lovingly on them. It is
wrong to make that a light subject, which exists
ever as a token of divine displeasure against human
disobedience,-or that a common event which can
befall each of us but once —and that once!-which
kingdom may it open to us?
Invitations to funerals are frequently attached to
the obituary notice in the newspaper-and the attendance depends much on the esteem in which the
departed was held. The connected and the unconinected go alike, and you may see ladies in gay vestments with bright roses in their hats, mingling sincere tears with those dressed in the deepest mourning.  If it is the funeral of a well-known Christian
i
234 
TEHE FUNERALS.
character, and a member of a church, the body is
laid in front of the pulpit and the friends gather
round while an act of worship is performed, and a
short oration is delivered, which is not simply laudatory, or pronouncing judgment on the dead, but
rather warning to the living. The service is generally simple and touching, and calculated to be useful. The Episcopal form nearly resembles that of
England.
The Odd Fellows funerals are more like triumphal processions, with bands of music, flags, ribbons,
and all the gaudy insignia of official people in the
society, than like returning the ashes of a departed
brother to the parent dust.  It is said they are rendered very injurious to the morals of the community by being generally performed on the Lord's day,
and during the hours of worship, and that many
step in as they pass, to each place where intoxicating drinks are sold, until they return reeling from
the cemetery.
As to the Irish funerals, the first I observed consisted of twenty-eight carriages, crammed with people of all ages, with laughing faces and loud jollity,
dressed in red and green ribbons, rendered more
conspicuous by being blown about through the open
windows, by the wind. Not having observed the
i
I
235 
236              THE FUNERALS.
little modest hearse which preceded all this fun and
frolic, the inquiry was not unnatural, if these people
were going to a fair,-and the suprise was great to
learn that they were following a funeral to the
Popish burial-ground at Williamsburgh.
The hearse, in America, is a modest, low conveyanee,-somewhat lower and narrower than our carriages for piano-fortes,-free from the pomp of
plumes which look so like an attempt to put an air
of grandeur on the most subduing event in life.
The absence of escutcheons and blazonry on the
house of the departed, becomes the simplicity of a
republic. A more touching and simple symbol we
first observed in Baltimore, and saw it afterwards
in Philadelphia and elsewhere. Where death has
entered, a strip of black crape is attached to the
handle of the front door. the length of which indicates
the age of the departed, so that no unwarned visitors can intrude on private sorrow.  It is also customary in some places, to fix the outside shutters
with crape in a position more than half closed, so
that the inmates live in that obscured light for
many weeks, or months, if it be the head of the
family who is dead, or if the departed is deeply
mourned.
The Americans, partaking as they do of the mix 
THE FUNERALS.
ture of many nations, have caught up tastes and
habits from various quarters.   The  German neat
and tasteful arrangement of small things, shows
itself in the very hanging of the empty fruit-baskets
in festoons at a gardener's stall, and the arranging
of small flower-pots with an eye to the undulating
line of beauty.   And thus, in putting the Hall of
Independence, at Philadelphia, in mourning for the
late President, they had drawn a long piece of crape
through the beak of the eagle which floats over the
figure of Washington, in such a manner, that its
folds fell gracefully down, shading the statue on
either side. The effect was beautiful, and suggestive of many thoughts.   Men may be cut off, but
institutions will remain, —a President may expire,
but the Republic will survive.
Ah! what a noble country! and yet how like
this blighted world.  It has a dark shade mingling
among its stars and stripes.   One under which it
sighs and groans.  When will vigor, true independence and virtue, be given to it to remove that dark
shade-and allow all who admire its achievements
and honor its ingenious industry, to admire without
a sigh, and to honor without a drawback?
That dark shade would not withdraw from the
mind in the Hall of Independence, nor even at
237 
THEI  FUNERALS.
Washington, when the heart swelled in contemplation of the magnificent Capitol and all the affairs
transacted within it. It appeared in the countenance-and manner of the Southerner, so different
from those of the North.  It hung about the figure
of the shrinking free colored man, who seems to
quail under the cold eye of the white. It trembled
around the lowly quiet celerity of the slave who
watched your look as if it were his duty to conjecture your wants, not from love, but from fear. It
even clouded the services of the handy little boy
who ran from wing to wing of the busy hotel, carrying all sorts of small wares and messages. He
might be happy in his ignorance, poor boy, and he
was not harshly treated. and his mother was in the
house. But he was not his mother's child-he was
his master's. She was not her own, nor her husband's-she also was her master's. And who was
he? a humane man enough, born under providence
with a white skin, otherwise he too might have become the chattel of another.
Forgive the generous wish that no tarnish should
be on your country's standard. I know that millions of you hate the system which I mourn-I know
that it is not foreign remark or interference which
will rid you of it. You are a free people. Your
238 
THE FUNERALS.
own intelligence and moral energy must reclaim
you-no external powers can turn you back if you
go astray. You have expelled slavery from one half
of your land, and live in the expectation that you
will presently rid the other half of it, nay, that you
will ultimately be the happy means of expelling it
from the world. Yet perhaps there is some deception in your case.  Can it be, as one has heard it
many times stated, that, had it not been for foreign
interference, Kentucky, Missouri, Maryland, and Delaware, would have ceased to hold slaves ere now?
Why, if you would do right, allow your displeasure
against " foreign interference" to have any power in
inducing you to continue a wrong? Do you not deceive yourselves?  I see our countryman  James
Stuart, in his'" Three Years in America," adopted
the idea of the friends with whom he conversed,
that in ten years, slavery would be at an end in
Kentucky.   That was said in 1830.  Twenty-one
years of ill-gotten gains and woe have passed since
then. The delusions of hope that tend but to prolong a system which themselves abhor, are they not
most pernicious and unfounded? When did evil
arise and break itself to pieces, and rejoice over its
ovn ruins?  It cannot be.  The better genius of
Kentucky must awake and do the work,-and rising
I
239 
THE FUNERALS.
from the wreck of its wrong, spring up to what just
principles, genius, industry, and plentiful and fertile
land, and free institutions, can make it.  It mlust
heal itself,-and if it does not, another ten, another
twenty years may pass, and Kentucky and Delaware
will be found as they are now, groaning and hating,
but enduring and abetting slavery.
It was not my design to allude to this most painful subject. But in contemplating death, the termination of all our toils and all our gains, how
could the depression of the colored race and its termination fail to arise in the mind: "1 Behold, the
tears of the oppressed, and they had no comforter. Wherefore, I praised the dead which are
already dead, more than the living who are yet
alive."   Yea-presently-haste to be just before
the time comes, for presently-" The small and the
great will lie down together, where the servant is
free from his master."
Having fallen on this sore subject, it is right to
make a remark or two to place British motives for
remarking on the condition of the Africo-American
race in a kinder point of view tlhan that in which
they generally first appear to an American.
We are not used to see colored people at home,
though our own heavy share of the evil and respon
240 
THE FUNERALS.
sibility of transporting them from Africa, and
placing them in a state of bondage, leads us to
think much of them in absence, and to be anxious
about their condition when we see them and visit
their haunts.
For myself, and it may truly be said of thousands
besides, my observation and questions about them,
are from motives the very reverse of a desire to censure, or a pleasure in remarking on what is felt by
Americans to be the unsound and inconsistent part
of their constitution. I wanted to know their position, social and religious, in the Free States. I
wanted to know the mind of the slave-holders in the
Slave States. I longed for leave to hope for good
in the one, and to see good in the other. The manner in which such questions were generally met,
pained me sincerely. It was the only subject on which
I saw a tendency to a ruffle on the sunny surface of
American temper, and reminded me of Tom Moore's
anecdote of an interview he had with Byron. Byron seemed never to have forgiven the providence
which had disfigured his otherwise beautiful person,
by a club-foot. While the poets eonversed, the eye
of the Irish lyrist rested on the foot. The saturnine
lord observed it, and his countenance darkened.
Poor Tom became aware, and evaded a bitter burst,
16
I
241 
THE FUNERALS.
by making his eyes wander carelessly over the whole
person, as if he had not specially marked the foot,
and gradually the thunder-cloud dispersed, and sunshine returned. Every nation has its club-footsome have two-some are perfect centipedes in deformities,-happy America, if she have but one. It
is the more painfully deforming, but will be the
more easily remedied.   Even young ladies seem expert tacticians on this subject, and carry the war
into the enemy's camp with great keenness. When
a simple inquiry is made, not by an enemy, but a
true friend, they accuse England of the cruelties
perpetrated in Manchester on the manufacturers of
cotton cloth as being worse than those inflicted on
negroes who raise the raw material. They hardly
believe when told that these people are free, that if
they do not like one master they can engage with
another, that they receive wages for their work, and
if oppressed or injured they can bring the oppression before a magistrate. If, however, convinced
that this is not a point where they can make a
breach in the wall of the British constitution, they
will assail you on the wrongs of Ireland.  Should
the truth that Ireland has been misgoverned by
reason of its Popish preferences be conceded, they
triumph and say it does not become us to criticize
I
i
242 
THE FUNERALS.
slavery;  as if evils on one side of the Atlantic
could neutralize those on the other-or as if evils in
our government of Ireland-the remedy of which
has cost Britain millions of gold, and more than
millions of ingenuity, trouble, and disappointmentought to seal up our hearts against every benevolent
sentiment in reference to the African race, or shut
us out from the natural desire of information as to
the condition of one branch of the human species.
The colored people, who imitate all the respectable customs of the whites, have their funeral processions and their mourning garments, and look
much more like paying respect to their dead, and
feeling sympathy for the living, than the Irish do.
Those of them who have any religion, are Protestants, and form the procession, not to please, or to
put money in the purse of the priest, but to show
kindness to the departed. I heard the minister of
a colored church announce from the pulpit the death
of a highly esteemed church-member, and the hour
of his funeral, inviting attendance, and stating that
if the choir could be spared by their employers, it
would fitly assist a becoming solemnity if they would
attend, and sing two appropriate hymns, which he
pointed out. There was neither levity nor show,
: Po. nte
f., __.
I
i
243
I *. 
THE FUNERALS.
but a becoming sentiment apparent in what the good
man advised.
One customl: which at first surprised me, but af   terwards commended itself as most convenient, pre   vails, as I found on inquiry, in many cities and vil   lages. In eases of death, some considerate neighbor
borrows for thie bereaved family suitable dresses,
from any one who has them, which are worn on oc   casion of the funeral, and then returned, thus leav   ing the mourners undisturbed, till their own conve  * nience enables them to procure at leisure what they
require. I have known one excellent Christian gen   tlewoman, in case of the death of one of the most
highly esteemed pastors of her city, consider the age
and size of the daughters, and who of similar figure
among her acquaintance were wearing mourning at
present. She then set off herself, accompanied by
her maid, procured what she wanted, bonnets, shawls,
and everything necessary, and carried them to the
house of mourning, where they were willingly re   ceived, and used without scruple.
I also saw a dear matron, whose emotions and ac   tions run together like parted mercury, leave the
room, saying, " I think the gown I am wearing will
look best for poor Mrs.         at the funeral-will
~*    u:e:ecuse me, ladies, while I go and change it, that
'.::.::~~~~~~
I
I
244
^:::: 
THE FUNERALS.
she may have it." Refinement that is refined away
into inanity may be sqeamish at this plan, and the
reserve of ancient etiquette may scorn it. To me,
there was a simplicity, and heartiness, and helpfulness in the style of sympathy, which indicated real
love for the neighbor.   And who that has gone
through the infliction of having boxes of bonnets and
caps to fit on; and that has stood under the hand
of a dress-maker, when ready to expire, and flung
herself down, when released, in an irrepressible burst
of woe, would not feel the gentle helping hand in
such a place as this, to be like that of a ministering
angel.
The natural and the real is always beautiful in
time of sorrow, and to be preferred to the artificial
and the ceremonial.
i
i
I
245 
THE cemeteries are laid out in fine taste. Perela-Chaise at Paris has formed the pattern, and tastefully is it imitated, and even surpassed. There are
many beautiful. That on the banks of the Passaic
at Newark, has a fine position in reference to the
river. It was rather a delicate matter to pronounce
between the claims of Mount Auburn at Boston, and
Greenwood beyond Brooklyn.   Not only because
both are beautiful, but because there exists a degree of rivalry on the subject between Boston and
New York, of which latter city, Greenwood is the
principal cemetery. It contains 242 acres of the
most beautifully varied grounds, and is rich in avenues of pines, elms, and yews; with fine slopes shaded by magnificent locusts, cypress, and weeping
willow; and picturesque pieces of water, with fountains casting up the sparkling element to a great
height, which falling, forms rainbows in the sunbeams
and tranquillizes the spirit with its monotonous and
(4t   emeterttrie  a        $d lirtmeu. 
THE CEMETERIES AND FIREMEN.  247
stilly plash. One felt inclined to linger out the day,
and yet to return again on the morrow.
There is much taste and sentiment in the monuments in both these beautiful cemeteries.  Sonice
massive, of gray granite, mingling well with the more
varied forms of white marble.  Mount Auburn has
memorials to Fulton, Channing, and Spurzheimthe latter noble in its simplicity; the name alone in
the centre of the tablet being the only epitaph. In
the inscription on Channing's monument, one cannot
but remark that they have evaded confessing his
Unitarian principles by making mention only of the
" Christian cotnt,unity to which he belonged," or
a similar expression. Was the rumor then true, that
in his latter days, the apostle of Unitarianism found
Christ as a pattern-man, inadequate to his soul's necessities? Would that it may have been so.
At Greenwood, the lamb, the dove, the broken
bud, the bursting chrysalis, the rising sun, the embraced urn, the veiled mourner, and whatever other
emblem grief and faith mingled might suggest to
taste, are to be seen. Nothing, however, seenled so
very touching as the name alone. The sacred spot
is measured out, and encircled by a light iron fence.
On the locked gateway the family name is placed in
large characters; but within, as each dear member
i[
iI
I
I 
248 THE CEMETERIES AND FIREMEN.
occupies the place, you see on the monument, "Our
Emily," " Our Henry," "Our Mother," " Our dear
Parents," "Our only Son."  If you will know who
they are, you must look at the gate, but they who
placed them there know well.  They were Ours, the
spot and the ashes are Ours still. With that pertinacity indicative of immortality and the resurrection,
affection  cleaves to the ashes;  and many a rose
within the rail, and many a bunch of " Forget-menot" planted at the feet, shows that love is stronger
than death, and makes its vow of constancy even to
the cold clay.
The Firemen's monuments are noble and deservedly conspicuous.   The  cold marble erected to
their memories was their country's only method of
expressing its gratitude to them. And above the
rest shows the statue of that brave manl with the
sleeping infant on his arm, to rescue whom he perilled his own life, and-lost it. As a work of art it
is very beautiful; but as a testimony of his people's
gratitude, it is sublime. The man who wins the
battle, or raises the siege, or secures the peace, receives of course his meed of laurels, and " storied
urn and monumental bust;" but the man who risks
his life to save one poor little infant, who'works not
for fame nior for fortune, but for humanity, how 
THE CEMETERIES AND FIREMEN.   249
worthy is he of a statue! It was bravely done!
One honors the patriotic spirit that erected it.  The
same spirit was also shown in the erection of that
other beautiful monument over the grave of the Pilot, who in saving the ship was himself drowned.
Having mentioned firemen, it may be as well to
remark upon them here.
Fires are more frequent in the United States than
elsewhere.  "How it comes let doctors tell." Wooden houses alone will not account for it-as wood,
though combustible, will not burn unless it be kindled. They have, however, become nearly as expert
in extinguishing as they seem careless in kindling
fires-so that a stranger learns by and by to hear
the startling toll which announces the number of the
district where a conflagration is going on, without
any unusual beating of heart, even though it be not
far off. In Philadelphia, people profess to be more
afraid of the damage done by the water than by the
fire.
We learned that the firemen had certain immunities, and that their enrolment originated with the
Quakers. According to their principles, Friends
could not go to war, but to prove themselves willing
to defend the State they offered to take charge of
extinguishing fires, on condition that they should 
250   THE CEMETERIES AND FIREMEN.
not be liable to serve in the militia. They have
other privileges I believe, such as not being called
to sit as jurymen on trials.  In return, however,
they have no sinecure office. The night without a
fire is the exception, and it is not uncommon during
winter, to have several in one night.
One never saw a more light-built, active set of
men, than those of the fire brigades. They wear
dresses fit to protect the head, and leave their limber limbs unencumbered;  and they have as much
pride in the bright brasses and gay painting of their
engine, as a sailor has in his ship, or a driver in his
team. The first who with his engine reaches the
scene of danger, is captain for the night; and so
zealous are they of this honor, that they will remain
in a room behind the engine-room, for the purpose
of being ready to start on the first ring of the bell.
That they are courageous, and command often in
the midst of danger with a general's eye, all their
countrymen know.   And  that many of them are
gentle as well as brave, many a deed of tender consideration for sufferers  can  testify.   One  little
specimen of this came under my own knowledge,
and pleased me greatly.
The house of one of my emigrant countrymen was
in flames-the usual amount of agitation, racket, 
THE CEMETERIES AND FIREMEN.  251
confusion, smoke, and hammering and tearing down
were going forward amid the fire.  A  young daughter of the family was rushing to a picture on the
wall of one of the rooms, when a fireman caught her
and said she would peril her life.  " Oh! but I
must save it-I must.   It is the picture of my
home in Scotland."  " Stand there then," said the
kindly man, and bounding himself over the falling
embers, rescued the treasure, and through the thickening cloud of smoke leapt back to present it to
the agitated girl. Here was good-nature, sentiment,
and sympathy, mingling with courage in the heat
and hurry of the scene. The dear girl showed me
her old home and the Tweed, so familiar and so
dear to us both, and told me of this kindly act with
sparkling eyes. She never knew her benefactor.
It has been mysteriously hinted that these fire
brigades, originating in so honorable and humane a
purpose, have been invaded by various evils, and
made the tools of infidel encroachments, and politi
cal intrigue. How much to be lamented, if true,
and how desirable that some salutary corrective be
applied-some salt cast into the mass to save it
from putrefaction.
They are a popular Society in every city. Courage dwells with, and protection flows from them.
I 
252   THE CEMETERIES AND FIREMEN.
Will not some of the ladies who shower nosegays on
their heads when, on the anniversary, their gay procession and glittering engines pass through the
streets, devise some method of exhibiting their
gratitude which may infuse a moral and elevating
leaven into the occupation of these men, who watch
at midnight for their safety?
At the New York Fair (as they call the annual
exhibition of the industry and manufactures of the
whole State) the display of all the material engaged
in extinguishing fires, was extensive, ingenious, and
handsome, in a degree to awaken surprise in people
who hear of a fire at the interval of months, and
scarcely ever see a fire-engine.
I 
'4t Cntnrth  tar t.
THE first drive up Broadway, or turn in the Fifth
Avenue, would impress the new-comer with the
idea that New York is of German origin, but for
the restless bustle that pervades it, and the dark
coachmen mounted on the front of the carriages,
and the youths seated beside them, who from their
age and complexion may be their sons. When he
penetrates a little further, and sees the domestic
economy, he will find -black cooks as well as waiters;
and when he perambulates the city, he will find some
streets that seem entirely inhabited by blacks, and
in their vicinity a church or two of various persuasions., whose flocks and whose ministers are of the
same complexion.::They are generally reported to
be honest, thoughtless, light-hearted, improvident
people. Some of them seem very poor and desolate,
especially in cold weather, which shrinks and withers
them up; but in sunshine they expand, and are much
more lively.':-They are by no means disposed to 
THE COLORED RACE.
beg, or to make the most of their necessities.  A
gentleman connected with the " Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor," whlo takes charge
of a district for the purpose of investigating the
cases, and distributing the almls of the benevolent
during winter, says his experience is, that the colored people, men and women, withdraw their claim
as soon as they find employment by which they can
live, while the Irish will hang on, and show plausible cause why they ought to be aided, as long as a
dollar is left in the bag.
They are capable of being very industrious and
useful in the community, and some of them possess
both energy and mental vigor. Yet they evidently
belong to a warmer clime, where prolonged or hard
exertion is not necessary to supply the wants of nature; and one grieves to observe the half-developed,
half-alive state they often drop into, as if chilled,
when nothing occurs to arouse them.
They are not zealous to use all the means of education within their reach, yet in the " Colored Orphan Home" are to be seen children as acute and
lively as in any of the white orphan houses, or Common Schools. Those who have enjoyed longer and
closer means of observation can say whether the
gradual dying away of this acuteness and liveliness,
I- I"
I
254 
THE COLORED RACE.
when they grow up, arises from constitutional causes,
or from a growing conception as they advance in
life of their depressed condition.
In the free States the colored children have access to the Common Schools, but if I may judge
from my limited means of observation, they do not
very commonly use the privilege. States that support Common Schools pay equally for black and
white children. Nevertheless, in these States you
will find here and there a side school, the result of
private benevolence, where the children and their
teacher cannot offend each other's prejudices, as all
are dark.
It is too painful to look on a people who have the
material in them that might do well, driven back to
inertness and despondency by the ceaseless encounter
of depressing obstacles. Is it true, that white children in virtue of a complexion, in the possession of
which they have no merit, insult and injure children
of another shade of color, for which they ought to
have no disgrace? I fear it. In Albany I saw a
big white boy deliberately kick a little black one
who was passing along as inoffensively as myself.
The poor child did not attempt to retaliate or to
complain-he only fled. Is this a method in which
to rear free, and generous, and just citizens?
i
255 
THE COLORED RACE.
The day and the scene were lovely as I sat on
the dock at Poughkeepsie, waiting for the steamer,
yet a brief exhibition of what appeared too common
to draw the attention of others filled me with indignation and grief.   A  pleasant-looking colored
youth, dressed neatly in clean summer clothing,
leaned over the rail, looking down upon the water.
Suddenly a dirty, ragged, vulgar fellow, perhaps
jealous that a black man should look so much more
respectable than himself, came up and tried to fasten a quarrel on him, which the dark man meekly
evaded. The fellow struck him, and when still the
injured dark man kept the peace, and turned his
face to the water, the fellow kicked him and went
away triumphing. No one laughed with him, as I
was pleased to observe; but no one said, "Why
do you insult this inoffensive man?", He saw there
was none to take his part. Hiad I been a man, I
think the insolent fellow would have got a washing
in the Hudson. It would have been an honor to
have been carried before a magistrate for such a
trespass. 0 America! country of freemen, beware
of laying up a store of such injuries. The God of
the Black man and the White is a God of judgment,
and does not forget your good deeds and your evil.
I
II
I
256 
THE COLORED RACE.
Could you but be warned before you make your
responsibilities deeper and darker!
Churches for the Colored people are built by voluntary contribution in the same manner as those
for the White, and often the chief part of the money
is contributed by white peoplq. Many of the pastors are dark, and, generally speaking, though they
be pious, they are not intelligent or much instructed. The majority of them are Methodists-their
habit of addressing the passions more than the understanding, suiting better the temperament and
degree of knowledge of their flocks. These, along
with Baptists, comprise almost all of the colored
professors of religion. The morals of even the best
colored people are said to be of a low grade, and
pastors find it far easier to take care of white than
of colored sheep.
These poor people feel that they live by sufferance
only-their humility is quite touching in reference
to white persons-and their position is so calculated
to debilitate the mind, to teach them submission and
dependence, rather than anything like forethought
and providence, that it is not surprising to see them
continue under the cloud, and rarely break out from
it  It is the humor of some to indulge and spoil
them, allowing in them familiarity which they would
257
17 
THE COLORED RACE.
not permit in a white, while others trample on them,
reproach them for being "niggers," &c.  In either
case they are not treated fairly.  It is curious to
observe them if encouraged, kindly gossiping creatures as they are-nold cooks and "aunties" who have
held all manner of domestic offices, never lose their
claim on the family. They will call in if they fancy
the lady wants her hair dressed, or if her present
cook does not, perhaps, understand making the preserves so well as "Aunt Suky" does-or if they
hear you have company, and will be the better of a
hand to help with the ice and lemonade, and you
will find an "aimt" occasionally in the lady's chamber with her little basket, and her pleasant sociable
smile, as if she knows all about it; and her soft
voice, and her quaint talk. Their voices are all
pleasing, and a fine musical ear seems their unfailing attribute.  If a street minstrel is afloat, you
will be sure to see a score of little darkies hovering
about him, drinking in the strains with  evident
delight.
Being interested in their musical powers, I gathered collections of their popular airs, and felt indignant at the ineffable nonsense of the words which
are in nearly every case attached to them. If they
be real, what sin attaches to enlightened men, who
258 
THE COLORED RACE.
keep in purposed ignorance a set of immniortal beings
who dwell in the midst of them. If they be the invention of hired musicians, who profess to be Ethiopians, then how low is the public taste in that matter: and how insulting is it to the poor black people.
Yet kind ladies told me, that much of this nonsense
comes from the south, and is fostered by the owners,
as the favorite singing of their pet slaves, which
they like to repeat, as we do the imperfect prattle
of our children. One may be allowed to question
if that be the real state of the case, especially when,
ever and anon, in the negro melodies you catch a
strain which has been metamorphosed from some
familiar Scotch or Irish tune, into somewhat of a
chiming jiggish air. It is remarkable, that all their
love for music and for negro melodies, if these be
indeed such, has not led the dark people to seek a
corner in those halls where white men with sooty
faces sing their airs well, and play their favorite
banjo, as well as it can be played. It is too obviously satire, and not sympathy, which these minstrels aim at. The ridicule is too broad and contemptuous to be tolerated, much less enjoyed by
them. The sight of a dark complexion has long
since ceased to be rare in a place of worship. Besides having churches of their own, you will, if you
I
259 
THE COLORED RACE.
look well about you, find a few in a left hand gallery, or in some odd corner of many churches.
The time is happily long gone by since New
York State and City, cleared themselves from the
bondage and disgrace of slavery. In that unhappy
time, when old Katy Fergusson was yet a girl, she
was converted under the teaching of the Rev. Dr.
J. M. Mason.   Her examination before the session,
and the purpose of admitting her to communion,
excited some murmuring and much speculation
amongst those whose skins God had made fair.  For
thus far could an evil habit of mind prevent even
Christians from rejoicing, when according to His
promise, "Ethiopia stretched forth her hands  to
God." The good and resolute doctor took no notice
of these murmurings, but, with the dignity which his
commanding figure and grave deportment rendered
so becoming, and with the solemnity which the occasion demanded, he passed down to Katy's distant
seat, led her to the table in presence of his great
congregation, and exclaimed with deep emotion, "If
any man be in Christ he is a new creature."  "There
is neither Greek nor Jew, there is neither bond nor
free." " Whosoever shall do the will of my Father,
the same is my brother, and sister, and mother."
Prejudice in her case was disarmed and abashed,
260 
THE COLORED RACE.
and by-and-by Katy's freedom was purchased. She,
like most of her tribe, is a capital cook. They have
the knack of it, and can stand any amount of heat.
She has made many wedding cakes and wedding
suppers, and had many young women under her
training as pastry cooks, to whom she has been
made useful in spiritual things.
In her house was held the first Sabbath-School of
New York, and for forty years she has had a weekly
prayer-meeting there. When we joined the little
group, her pastor and a city missionary were present.
There was a curious gathering of us-three colored,
three Jewesses, and a young couple lately from Glencairn, whose amazement was unbounded at being
hailed by us as fellow Dumfriesians. It touched us
to sing the Scotch version of Psalms to the old airs of
French and Balerma, and brought melting feelings
of a quiet seat now vacant, and a voice now silent,
a whole tribe of strong memories which are not read,
nor even suspected by any bystander.
It is striking to observe the contrast-while some
professors, drawn aside by prosperity, are one day
at the Lord's table, and another introducing their
offspring to crowded dancing-parties; here is an
aged and now feeble and poor woman, for years
keeping an altar in her house, and helping others
261 
THE COLORED RACE.
on the way to heaven. She is a person of varied
talent and much energy, still, and one day brought
in to us a bouquet of waxen flowers, iade by her
own trembling hands, good and pretty imitations of
nature.
It is to be hoped the church will care for her increasing wants, till she ceases to want any more.
A friend observed to me that evening, "These Glencairn people will presently change their house. and
slip out of Katy's influence." When I7 uninitiated,
asked the reason with surprise, I was told, "They
are still in happy ignorance about the prejudice
against color, but they will soon be taught, and because they will be ashamed to break off from so
good a woman, they will just slip away by removing
to another place." This, with many other examples, proved to me  that the sentiment is not so
much  an instinctive aversion, as an educational
prejudice, which prevents the one race from eating,
or even worshipping in company with the other.
One of the leading and popular ministers in the
city, stated to me that he had resided for months
with a family in a Southern State, who assembled
their negroes every evening while he conducted
worship, including a short and simple exposition of
a passage of Scripture. He said it was one of the
262 
9
THE COLORED RACE.
most trying exercises he was ever engaged in, from
the extreme excitability of the people. He had
reasoned with them apart, against giving way to
their feelings, he had rebuked them when together
on the first symptom of strong emotion, he had been
calm even to coldness himself, but night after night,
the plainest statement of gospel truth would throw
some into uncontrollable passions of tears, and
others into convulsions. One woman, a nursing
mother, and confided inr by all on the plantation, by
reason of years of Christian and prayerful consistency, fell nightly into convulsions and must be carried out. This gentleman imputed these violent
emotions to a peculiarity in the negro constitution;
while in my secret heart I questioned what manner
of nerve-shaking events a day may produce in such
a situation —or what known, and perhaps forced
sins, might be then making conscience tremble.
He adduced other instances of similar agitations
and seizures, and specially that of a strongly built
free colored man, whom he had seen, on different
occasions, seized with what might be termed catalepsy. His frame would become rigid, or one limb
would be as inflexible for hours as if it were a bit
of timber, while the power of speech would be
taken from him.  The same affections seized the
263
... 
THE COLORED RACE.
South Sea Islanders, who, under convictions of
their lost condition, were subject to nearly similar
paroxysms.  Such uncontrollable emnotions, are to
be deplored as very disturbing where instruction
should be conveyed, besides giving the evil disposed
opportunity to impute them to hypocrisy or design.
Yet when we weigh the immense horrors arising
from a view of dangers that refer to a never-ending
condition, it is not the convulsed and the groaning,
but the unconverted, who are laughing and trifling,
that are more suitable subjects of wonder.
There is likely a habit, and expectation of this
kind of excitement, which might explain the rising
and sitting down, the utterance of groans and loud
' -amens," and "glorys," which we heard in one dark
congregation, to which we made our way on a Sabbath evening, at Washington. All that the minister
repeated and reiterated in three quarters of an
hour, might have been more wisely said, at least to
my taste, in fifteen minutes, and none of it was of
a very arousing character.   But I suppose as much
response is often heard in Methodist chapels in
England, though without the same bodily movemenit. After the service the minister mentioned
that, "the church was dimly lighted, he did not see
any reason why, when they enjoyed the light of the
I
264 
THE COLORED RACE.
gospel, they should not have as clear light to hear
it by as other churches have. The fault was in the
lamps-they must  have new  ones.   To  procure
these, he was commissioned by the deacons to invite the ladies and gentlemen to hold a soiree on a
certain evening, their admission would cost them a
small sum, when they would have tea and fruit. and
addresses from gentlemen whom he named, and
some sweet hymn-singing and prayer. He was the
more encouraged to fall into this plan, because of
the suitable and proper behavior of the ladies and
gentlemen on a similar occasion, last year. Indeed, some of the ladies had begun to make preparation for the meeting already. He hoped they would
all come and conduct as well as they did last year."
The impression made on us by this address, is most
briefly described as very queer. Rather exaggerated
politeness, and obvious imitativeness. Thoughtless
people might be disposed to laugh. For myself, its
novelty amused me, but there was a better sentiment, that of gladness to see the people managing
their own affairs, and struggling up to independence
in that which touches themselves so nearly.
When I entered the pew at first, I asked two
smart-looking young women if I should intrude on
some one's room, if I sat there. " O no, Madam
265 
THtE COLORED RACE.
but if you don't like to sit with us, go into that side
seat, and none of us will come near you."  Having no
taste for being sent to Coventry, I sat where I was.
I never conversed with a slave but once, and having written what passed at the time to a friend at
home, I copy it. It showed me that very many persons in the sad condition of bondmen are tolerably
well used, and not very unhappy. It also showed
me more of the helplessness produced by the dependent condition, and how little they who pine for freedom, are, in the first instance, able to enjoy it. Indeed, we learned at Washington that it is by no
means rare for the well-fed and clothed bondman,
who is there in attendance on his Southern master,
to despise the colored freeman who is poorly clothed
and fed in comparison to hinm, and leads a laborious
life. The pampered valet, however, is no true specimen of what the negro on the tobacco, cotton, or rice
plantation is, even though we leave out of the comparison all that refers to morality and volition.
I had sent for the man with whom I conversed,
merely to make an inquiry about the way to a place
I wished to visit. His features were pleasant, beamirg, and ivory black. Having obtained my information, I felt a strong desire to learn if he was free,
but my heart beat so, I could not utter the question.
fI
I
I
I
266
i
i
i 
TIlE COLORED RACE.                267
A companion, however, asked him. "' No," said he,
smiling cheerfully, " but I am buying myself; I have
paid $300, I have $50 more ready, and then I want
$150 more to be free." "Where is your owner?"
"iHe is down in Georgia, but comes along about
twice a year to see after me." "i How long have you
been in this city?" " Twelve years. I have a wife
free, and God has been very kind to us in giving us
but one child-so I have not much to lay out for
my family, and can save the faster.   Besides, I
never let myself think I can't do without this, or I
must have that, as some of our people do, but just
do without everything, except what is necessary to
make me look decent."  "'You can read-how did
you learn?"  "I used to play with my owner's children, and when they say,' come away and play,' I
say to them,' teach me the lesson your tutor taught
you this morning, first;' and so I learnt a little, and
I worked hard myself."  "And what are you going
to do with yourself, when you have bought yourself?"
"That is just what I am  at a loss about."  "Do
you think of Liberia?" 1 "Why, I listen as I hear
gentlemen talk about it. The Society will send me
and my family across-then they don't give but six
months' rations after you land; and then there will
be forests to clear, and stumps in the ground, and the
i
I 
268            THE COLORED RACE.
acclimating fever, and no return for the labor at the
end of six months."  "But you might hire yourself
to some one at odd days, and so earn a little, while
your crop grows."  " But I have no tools."  " Oh,
our' Navvies' in England sometimes come along to
a piece of work, when they have dissipated the very
coat off their back; one lends a pick, and another a
spade; at the week's end they can buy tools, and
presently they get decently clothed." He shook his
careful head. It was strange to see an acute, sensible man, using all lawful means to purchase himself,
understanding how to pay by instalments, and having a regular receipt for each payment, and yet,
from want of use about daily provision and self-management, more at a loss what to do with himself,
than he is for the means to make the purchase.
When asked why he paid $300 before he could
make up the whole price, as he got no interest from
his owner, I understood him to say that he could
not place it out at interest, or be known to own it,
and that if he died, it would not belong to his wife
and child, but to his master, as a slave can own
nothing.
Reverting to his grand difficulty, he said, "About
Liberia, too, now that it is made independent, what
if America should quarrel with us?"  "America
0 
THE COLORED RACE.
has a strong interest in keeping on good terms with
Liberia." "Then if Great Britain should go to war
with us, would America embroil herself with Britain
for us? And which side could we take if they were
at war? Britain has been always kind to Liberia."
"Don't be faint-hearted, that must all come as it
may. A British steamer has just reached Liberia,
with an honest treaty of commerce, which both parties have signed. Besides, you are going to have a
line of steamers to run between this country and that
immediately. Liberia is growing in strength. You
cannot here rise above a depressed condition; there
you are not only free, but have equal rights."
"Well, I listen, listen to the talk of the gentlemen at
table, and when they notice me they say,' What better would you be of freedom? ain't you very happy
here?' and I say,' Sir. would you like it if you had
five children and I had three, if I say to you, You
work and give me all your wages for my three, and
let your own five do as they can? You would not
like that.'' O don't talk that way. Tom, you will
stir up discontent among the colored folks.'' Well,'
says I,' I don't speak so to them, for, poor things,
they could not bear it.' But I say it to you, Sir,
for it is true."  " What is it," I inquired, " that enables you to bear it better than the rest, Thomas?"
L             _
[
269 
THE COLORED RACE.
"You see, I lay my case before the Lord, and just
ask him to make me free or keep me slave, or to do
with me just what He pleases, and that keeps me
quiet, and I tell my people to be quiet, for there is
no color in His presence."
The hope of salvation shed a calm and dignified
sweetness and patience over his sable countenance.
"Poor things," said he, again, "they could not bear
it,-no, no, they could not bear it."  "Do you try
to do them good?"  "When I was laborer here and
there at riding, shingling, and farming, I taught
Sabbath-school, and I never frightened the little
ones about hell-fire or such things, they hear enough
of that"-he did not say from whom-" but I clap
their heads and love them, and tell them first to be
good to their parents, and they will be always kind
to them. And when they understand that, I tell
them to obey God, the great Parent of us all, and
He will be kind to them, and make them very happy in heaven for His dear Son's sake,-and they
used all to get very fond of me."   "You have very
few slaves here now?"   " Some-always  some."
"They are kindly used though, and not punished
here?" This I asked trembling, for, to tell truth,
at six in the morning I had quivered from head to
foot at some unusual sounds which reached my cham
270 
THE COLORED RACE.
ber, that looked upon a back yard. It was the Sabbath morning-the morning, as I remembered, set
apart in some places for inflicting punishment. The
sounds were strange, and my heart was very full for
the people all around me.    "Not punished," replied Thomas, "no-not much punished.   There is
a whipping-post in the yard,-but we don't have the
whipping now that used to be. I have been so long
a time with my master, that I make free to say a
word now and then.   And when  a servant does
wrong, I venture to say, might it not be as well to
change him and hire another, and not whip him,
-and  he rather takes that way now."   "Well,
Thomas, patience and prayer will conquer. The
Lord knows what is best, and will provide for you
when you are free."
Patient, ingenious, kind, and brave,-perhaps he
will never venture to throw off the disability attached to his complexion in the land of his birth,
yet he has that about him which would muake him
an aequisition, as a citizen, to any country.
I
271
6 
WHEN first we heard of this Society in England
it was hailed with joy, as a wise outlet for the oppressed, and a promising method of introducing civilization to the western coast of Africa.
Those who had felt the slave-trade the most deeply as a wrong and impediment in every way to that
coast, were those who gave to the agents of colonization the most ardent welcome to England. But
in a year or two the prospect was clouded.
The Maryland State Colonization Society stated
broadly at its seventh anniversary, that " Abolition
is a curse to those it pretends to benefit, and colonization presents the only practicable plan by which
the condition of the colored population can be ameliorated."   And  again, " That  this Society hold
colonization to be the antagonist of Abolition, and
find the best proof of the importance of the former
to the States where slavery exists, in the untiring
efforts made by the latter, to defeat and prostrate
}i
(ir  t  (f u I u i  5a t fu ~u   riut tq.t 
0 
THE COLONIZATION SOCIETY.
it."* There was then no purpose of benefit to the
whole colored family. It seemed a scheme adopted
by Slave States to rid themselves of a few free negroes who were in too dangerous a proximity to their
slaves. We had also hints of evil and turbulent
slaves, who were an annoyance at home, receiving
the gift of manumission merely that they might be
got rid of. We were led to conjecture that several
had been placed at Liberia against their own consent; and, as the slave-owners could never contemplate transporting three millions of people across
the ocean, we were left in doubt whether the motive,
held out to us, of improvement to Africa, and freedom to slaves, was the real one, or whether Liberia
was not in fact a mere penal colony, or a safety
valve, as a receptacle for those who could not be
managed at home. The numbers sent were fewer
than one would have expected from the active benevolence of Americans, who achieve great things
when they are really moved, and never seem to fail
in any good design for want of funds. In short,
we required to investigate and to be reassured, before we dared heartily to rejoice in the plans of the
Society.
* Resolutions at the public meeting held at Annapolis,
Jan. 23, 1839.
18
273 
274     THE COLONIZATION SOCIETY.
After many and anxious inquiries, I am happy to
come to the conclusion that the motives of the Colonization Society are purely philanthropic. It has
steadily adhered to its one object-that of sending,
with their own consent, people of color to Afriea,
and out of the accomplishment of this object is rising the good prognosticated. One free colony after
another is springing up on those deadly shores once
haunted by the kidnapper and the man-hunter. And
the traffiekers in human flesh so stupidly debased,
who steeped their souls in horrors, and spent their
days in watching and plotting, and their nights in
rapine and cruelty, are learning that their fertile
soil can enrich them by its varied and bountiful productions, while they possess just rights themselves,
and allow them also to their fellow-men.
Although the idea of removing the African race
from the American continent by means of Liberia is
like baling out the ocean with a bucket, yet the
thriving Republic, with its rising seaport towns,
forms a suitable home for many of them, and exhibits a fine pattern to the uncivilized nations around
them. Monrovia was the first settlement, and is
the seat of government. But since then Edina is
added as a seaport, and with the new colony of Maryland at Cape Palmas, is included under the gen
f 
THE COLONIZATION SOCIETY.
eral name of Liberia. Thus the Colonization Society has an average of forty miles inland, and a
coast line of three hundred and fifty miles, secured
from the abominable traffic in man-and fourteen
thousand square miles of territory protected and
ready for the free and peaceful labors of the husbandman.
The Rev. R. R. Gurley, who was sent by government to obtain information in 1850, reports "the
mighty effects wrought on the intellects, hopes, and
purposes of the authorities and people of Liberia by
the freedom which has ever been theirs upon these
shores, and the high position they have now taken
of national independence. Some of the most distinguished men of the Republic are among those
who went thither in childhood, have received their
entire education in its schools, and bear in their manners, their whole deportment, and upon their very
aspect, the signs of a just self-respect, of subdued
passions, of virtuous resolutions, and of a mature
and well-disciplined judgment."  The laws of Liberia against the slave-trade are
full and explicit:-" 1. No vessel of their Republic
is permitted to have intercourse with slave-ships, at
* Report to the Senate through the Secretary of State,
Daniel Webster. Washington, September 14, 1850.
275 
276    THE COLONIZATION SOCIETY.
sea or elsewhere.  2. No citizen of their Republic
can be permitted to act as agent for any person
engaged in the slave-trade, under penalty of being
six months bound to hard labor in irons-no one
living there shall enter into the employ of any slavedealer. 3. No vessel engaged in, or having connection with the slave-trade shall enter the ports of the
Republic, and no foreigner residing within its jurisdiction shall have any connection with that trade."
In short, the laws exhibit a determined resolve to
keep such pollution far from their rising nation, and
furnish a cheering prospect that, by its aid, that
baleful source of crime and cruelty will finally be
extinguished.
The founders of the Society, Samuel J. Mills and
Dr. Finley, are men whose names are held in honor
by the pious in their country. The measures adopted for the first settlement at Monrovia seemed wise,
and encountered no other drawbacks than those of
fever and ague, and such troubles as attend upon
men who march in the van to fell the forest, and
drain the swamp, and turn the wilderness and solitary place into a cultivated field.
The great obstacle to the success and popularity
of the place among the colored people appears to be
that they are acted for, not acting. Their depressed 
THE  COLONIZATION  SOCIETY.            277
condition, and their ignorance render them  poor
judges of their own affairs, while centuries of injury
deprive them of confidence in those who would now
judge for them. It is easy to fill their ears with
unfounded tales of the hardships and difficulties of
the settlement, and not easy to excite in them a
spirit of enterprise of sufficient power to raise them
from their native land and native lowly position.
Having become convinced that my recent opinion
of the Colonization Society was unjust, I went to its
anniversary meeting during the busy week of missionary anniversaries in May-though it was so little an
object of favor in my circle that I could not find a
lady inclined to accompany me.  The most remarkable feature of the meeting was, that in the gay and
crowded Tripler Hall which blazed with light, I
could see only one colored man, and he seemed a
servant of the place.  How strange that what may concern them so deeply, should not attract many to learn
the condition of- the colony erected for their sakes.
I remembered having stepped into a meeting in
Edinburgh, where plans for colonizing Otago, a settlement in New Zealand, were exhibited. The company did not consist of ladies and gentlemen set
down to hear speeches. The man and his young
wife, the father and his two sons, sisters and broth 
278    THE COLONIZATION SOCIETY.
ers, and interested friends were  there of various
grades of society.  They advanced to the tables and
examined the plans.  They asked sensib'le questions
of the knowing men whose business it was to answer
them.  They studied bills on the wall announcing
the sailing of ships for that region. You could almost tell by the countenances in that interested assembly, who had fixed to go, and who were seeking
materials for the decision.  The scene had a real
colonization atmosphere about it-it carried your
mind to a wharf laden with packages, and a deck
crowded with farewells. Not so the meeting in
Tripler Hall. We heard some eloquence, some egotism, some self-defence, some wit, much irrelevance,
and some nonsense. It was not a businesslike audience at all.  Most unlike the close attention, the ardent listening, the lively sympathy of the meetings
in the Tabernacle which occupied that week. How
many opportunities did the speakers fail to employ
of showing the wrongs of Africa, the duty to compensate them, the means afforded by this Society to introduce the leaven of civilization and Christianity among
the benighted-more darkened still by our injuries
-and of describing the flourishing colony already
formed, and its still brighter prospects. What eloquence might have flowed forth, on planting the stan 
THE COLONIZATION SOCIETY.    279
dard of liberty on shores which for centuries had been
haunted only by the tyrant and the slave. How
insipid was the defence of a man's dear self against
some petty calumny. How poor and distasteful was
the most pointed wit, when it detains us on the
shore, while such an ocean of spirit-rousing matter
for the philanthropist lay unreached beyond!
When last of all, a sensible man with business-like
information began to address them, the audience
seemed to have got the laugh it came for, and in a
fit of impatience rushed away. That good man
sought to encourage colored people to get education
and to learn trades with a view to fit them for Liberia; and mentioned one talented and educated
family of his acquaintance in Baltimore who had
gone to that country. One son, I think he said, had
become an officer of State, and one daughter was the
wife of the Governor. But much that he said which
was well worth listening to, was imperfectly heard
by the retiring multitude, and the meeting seemed
altogether ineffective.
This exhibition had the effect of again damping
my hopes from the Colonization Society, though I
was told that the business was all despatched in
committee. Yet surely business results, such as the
state of the funds, the number gone out in the year,
I
I 
280    THE COLONIZATION SOCIETY.
the number preparing to go, &c., might have been
interesting to the meeting.  It does not appear that
many are willing to go, nor amongst them, many
whose previous habits and education are of a kind
calculated to strengthen or elevate the colony. Nevertheless the colony is " a true thing," and having
Christianity and free institutions, we look upon it
with hope, as the model of many a republic, which
may yet arise on that most injured and down-trodden
coast.
But turn which way we may, the question still
recurs-What is to become of the American Africans? In the presence of the white man they cannot rise.  It is an injury to the character of the
white man, to have a people with him who is not of
him, a people whom he may degrade by a false elevation of himself.  He is strong and hearty.  He
needs no hewers of wood or drawers of water. He
will be a better man when he does his lawful work
himself. and when those are removed who excite his
contempt or his scorn-those on whom he may vent
his fit of spleen and injustice, if such fit ever happens
to come upon him.
They cannot be all removed to Africa. There
are enough of them already shivering in Canada,
who if every one had his own, as some grudging
I 
THE COLONIZATION SOCIETY.
Southerners may say, would not be there. Happily
for them, the fugitive slave law cannot cross that
border. Still they are not in a climate that suits
them. The verge of the frigid can never make a
comfortable home for the denizen of the torrid zone.
Why not give up to the whole race a State for themselves, at the South, and leave them to erect a standard of freedom there, and bless the bounty of the
United States. Then might America raise her strain
without a discord           "Hail Columbia, happy land,
For all thy sons are free."
Then would the might of her influence be doubled
on earth, and then could she lift up a light and glad
heart to heaven.
This prejudice against complexion would begin to
fade, as soon as the necessity of living mingled together was removed, and all affairs of trade, commerce, and policy could proceed naturally, as they
do with other countries. At present there are perplexities and anomalies of various sorts occurring,
which oblige governments to wink hard, and endure
what they disapprove, or to turn corners with anything but the dignified movements of free States.
How unfit is it that England. for peace' sake,
should allow her black sailors to be locked up, the
I
281 
THE COLONIZATION- SOCIETY.
hour they enter the ports of some American slave
State. What an injustice to the honest, industrious
tar, to deal with him as with a criminal.
Yet this is one result of the slave-ridden condition of some of the southern sea-ports; they dare
not admit free blacks to company with slaves.
On the 26th of July, 1847, the Constitution of
Liberia was published, and her independence proclaimed. She has thus been a free republic, exercising all the rights of free government, for nearly
five years. Her claim, then, to be reckoned among
the nations, ought not, and cannot with justice, be
denied. She holds friendly relations with the United States, and must, like other nations, have her
charge-d'affaires at Washington. But all her people are dark.  A white man cannot sit, or eat, or
commune with such, on equal terms. What then
must be done? Must Liberia remain unrepresented
before the State that has fostered her into what she
is-the State that hopes to see her grow in greatness? or must Liberia borrow a white man to stand
her sponsor? Or, will America, with a magnanimity so becoming a great and a free nation, swallow
down her prejudice, receive a true Liberian envoy,
and show him all honor for the sake of Liberty, and
of his origin.
I
i
I
t
I
I
282 
Ours early knowledge of prisons is commonly derived from history, and consequently, they, with too
much reason, are associated in the mind with deeds
of injustice, oppression, and cruelty.    Dungeons
where brave warriors are sighing out their existence. deep, deep, below the sympathy and the hearing of man. Towers where infant princes pay the
forfeit of  life to the fell usurper.   Inquisitions
where, for daring to think or inquire, the intelligent, liberal, and devout are tortured under the remorseless gripe of papal tyranny.   Such  are the
images called up by the word "Prison" in the mind
of the inexperienced.
After-years teach that prisoners are not necessarily oppressed, and prisons are not all scenes of injustice and cruelty. Yet it requires long habit before the steep cold stone steps of a common jail can
be ascended without a trembling. heart, and the
hardened and careless inmates faced without strong
I
i
1,
I
,V' riouno. 
284              PRISONS.
repulsion mingling with pity. It requires a consideration of the untaught, the impoverished, and the
tempted case of many a poor criminal; and also a
consideration of what is in our own hearts, before
we can say, as did the well-taught man, when he
saw a convict passing to Tyburn, a but for the
grace of God there goes John Bradford."
As the homes of America are cleaner, brighter,
and of purer air than ours, so are their prisons.
My means of observation were limited. It is not
easy for a female to penetrate such places alone, nor
easy amid the busy and obliging multitude, to meet
with gentlemen who do less than marvel at your
taste in sight-seeing, if you hint a wish to visit such
scenes.   Such observations as have come within
reach, however, show me that the mistakes and experiences of old Europe have not been lost on young
America. There will never then, one is led to
trust, be found such dens of darkness and woe as
our Howard permeated-and, even from their foundation, they have profited by such works as our
Buxton's on Prison Discipline, and such operations
as those of our Mrs. Fry in prison classification.
It is not for me to discuss the much debated
points, between the systems of solitude in one
prison, or silence in society in another. For the
284'
PRISONS. 
-~~~~RIOS            8
officials the former must be much the more easy.
As to the latter, the enforcing of it-at least the
enforcing of non-intercourse, seems impracticable.
The temptation to break rules, and thus become an
offender, is very strong, because converse with our
fellows is natural.  It is a pity to add to occasions
of offence, where there are necessarily so many;
besides, Solomon said long ago, that "a naughty
person winketh with his eyes, he speaketh with his
feet, he teacheth with his fingers." He has ways
of insinuating his ideas though his tongue be
silenced; and that it is so, seems calculated to make
his feelings the more bitter. It would seem easier,
more cheerful, and therefore more healthful to work
alone all day, if your workshop be well aired and
lighted, than to work continually under restraint in
the midst of society, where the very ingenuity and
cleverness exercised in outwitting the overseer,
must add constantly to the temptation to do so.
It depends much on constitutional temperament
how solitude will affect the spirit. We have all
read with dismay the account of that brave general
who, under Austrian despotism, was imprisoned
seventeen years-at first with a companion. The
first year they discussed political affairs, and conjectured as to the cause of their arrest.   The
285
PRISONS. 
286               PRISONS.
second they related adventures and stated opinions
on abstract subjects.   The third they became silent; and when at the end of the fifth year his companion was removed, he felt it rather a relief to see
no more through the gloom, that diim immovable
countenance.   Once during the remainder of the
time the door was opened, and a voice, sounding to
his unaccustomed ears like thunder, said he had it
in command from his Imperial Majesty to inform
him that Madame, his wife, had died some time last
year. When liberated he had ceased almost to
think or to feel.  Hope had nearly ceased to linger
about his heart, and the relations of life had become as nothing to him. Who that has breathed
the free air of Britain or of America, does not recoil against such a deed of irresponsible power!
Neither the silent nor the solitary system in the
Free States can ever expose a fellow-man to such a
crying injustice; yet the effect of this dreamy solitude, on a man of strong mind, is worth deep consideration.   Mind, especially uninstructed mind,
cannot thrive in solitude. If it be empty of everything but its past evil associations, what can it be
exercised upon that may purify or elevate. Solitude, with employment and Christian teaching, may
be rendered animated and healthful, and that is the
PRISONS.
286 
PRISONS.              287
object to be aimed at in solitary prisons. Anything
is better than utter loneliness.  Robert the Bruce's
contemplations on the perseverance of his spider,
excites our interest, and we sympathize with him
when it and its intricate web were swept away.
And the poor Comte de (Charney's very small flower,
his Piciola in the court-yard of his prison, what a
power of mental occupation, and of hearty sympathy
was there, which, because it found no other outlet,
lavished itself on a flower. Such examples of the
resources of refined minds cut off from social intercourse, excite our interest; yet how unprofitable are
they, and how empty do they leave the soul.
What an invaluable treasure in penal solitude is
the " Moral Instructor," as he is called in the Eastern State Penitentiary of Pennsylvania.   The solitary longs to hear the human voice. At last his
loneliness is broken  in upon.   ile is addressed
kindly, with sage counsels, with friendly admonitions, with gospel invitations pointing to pardon,
peace, and a happiness which he has never tasted.
Left again alone, hlie pursues his work with a new
leaven cast into his many musings, and he longs for
the hour when the friendly teacher can return, if it
be but to hear his voice again, and again to exercise
his own. We do not know how many new char
I
i.. 
PRISONS.
acters this plan may send forth, but it is admirably
devised. The physician's report for 1850, is wise
and candid He is no sworn partizan of the solitary plan, but exhibits its disadvantages, and points
to where it is capable of improvement, with solicitude to furnish the means of a fair judgment.
One feature of the system pursued in the Pennsylvania Penitentiary is worthy of applause and
imitation-it affords the reclaimed protection from
being recognized hereafter by their fellow-prisoners.
The Doctor advises a free intercourse between the
prisoner and his friends, provided they be people
of virtuous habits, both by visits and by letters,
which shall pass through the hands of the Warden.
He thinks it would be very useful, both to the minds
and morals of the convict.   He also rejoices in
their rude attempts at the construction of musical
instruments, and in hearing through the corridors,
during the stillness of evening, the tones of various
performers. He is a humane man, falling in with
the design of the State, which is not simply to lock
up the convict as a nuisance to society, but by
wholesome restraints and mild punishment, with
good instruction, to bring him out a better man and
member of society.
The following extracts are from the Moral In
288 
PRISONS.
structor's Report:-" Here every man's cell is not
only his workshop, but also his school-room and his
study, where, secure from intrusive task-masters, he
may calmly reflect on the consequences of evil
courses, and form good resolves for the future.
This, I am satisfied, is a state of feeling at present
prevailing in the institution beyond comparison
greater than can be hoped for under any circum
stances, where prisoners pass their days in congregated labor, and return at night to cells, the
arrangements of which will not admit of private intercourse with a religious instructor." * * * *
"We  ought to remember that the measure of success is not the rule of duty, and if all is not accomplished which is desired, we  must steadily  and
patiently pursue the onward course, in the spirit of
that great apostle, who, hopeless of the conversion
of his nation collectively, nevertheless continued his
labor of love-' if by any means  he might save
some.' We have much reason to be grateful for
the measure of success which has marked the past
history of this Penitentiary. Numerous instances
of a permanent change have occurred-men have
been taught how to live and how to die.
"T. LARCOMBE, Moral Istructor."
This report is valuable in all its departments,
19
I
289 
29()               PRISONS.
and most satisfactory as giving the opinion of judicious and experienced men, as to the practicability
and usefulness of the solitary plan.   Dr. Given
is strenuous in his urgency as to some medical
cautions; he advises better ventilation —more use
of the large yards, and more room to carry on
some of their trades. He also solicitously explains
the number who were of weak intellect when admitted, lest their subsequent insanity should be imputed to their solitude. He says, " I am willing
that the extreme penalty of the law should be inflicted on any offender whose guilt deserves it, but
I cannot admit that a sentence of imprisonment
justifies the community in placing the convict under
any circumstances likely to injure the health of
either body or mind-and with those whose  consciences are tender on the score of making the
situation of th  prisoner more desirable than that
of the honest andl-dustrious poor man or pauper,
I heartily sympathize, but would with great humility ask, if the true exercise of their philanthropy,
would not consist in endeavors to alleviate the condition of the latter, and not in wishing to see the
former still more wretched."
The thought expressed by their zealous physician
hung on my mind all the time we followed the steps
I
II
290
PRISONS.
I
i
i
I
I
i 
I
PRISONS.              291
of a beloved lady through the extensive and airy
wards of the prison. Her countenance beaming
with hopeful love, seemed to draw a kindred beam
from that even of the oldest and least susceptible
female whose cell we entered. The proportion of
women was very small-only eleven, I think-the
males numbering upwards  of 300.   The  female
ward is on the second floor. We ascended by a
light iron stairs to the gallery which surrounds it,
and crossed over in the middle by an iron bridge.
All the doors open into the gallery, and each has
in one of the pannels a hole as large, on the outside, as the eye, but sloped inward till it becomes
the size of the pupil. By this small orifice, the
Matron can inspect the cell without the consciousness of the inmate. The wards run out from a circular hall in the centre, like the sticks of a fan, the
doors of the cells open into them, and each cell has
a yard at the back. A watchman placed at the
central point can cast his eye into all the wards
without shifting his position.
The manners of the matron were those of a gentlewoman. I was at first surprised, but on consideration much pleased, to observe the respect with which
she treated her charge. I have seen rough wardswomen and turnkeys, who exhibited by their man
I
291
PRISONS. 
292               PRISONS.
ner that they expected nothing good of the people,
and the sure result was that their expectation was
fulfilled.  At Philadelphia, both matron and lady
visitors expected propriety and gentleness of manners, and they created the manner by looking for it.
The women welcomed us to "their poor place-hoped
we would excuse a hard seat, as they had no cushion
to offer," or turned up a box to sit, upon "as they
were not provided for so many kind friends."  One
old woman read a little at the request of the matron,
to show our dear friend that she had acquired the
art; a young one pointed out her nice writing on a
slate which hung up; and a third seemed a little
troubled when I asked if she had worked the curious
fringe on her table cover. The matron revealed in
a whisper that she was under some slight privation;
some food withheld, I forget what, for her trespass
in taking a towel without leave to exercise her fringemaking ingenuity upon.  The matron encouraged
them as a mother does her children, to try to do well,
to recover their characters, and to be fit on going out
to dwell among good people. While our friend and
theirs gave theim loving gospel invitations, and spoke
so tenderly that one could not but feel this to be the
way to melt the heart to contrition.
Down stairs we visited many men's cells. In one
I
i
292
PRISONS. 
PRISONS.              293
we found lilliputian knives and forks, bodkins and
reels for cotton, made of the bones of the beef and
mutton. In another the walls and vaulted roof
covered with mosaic coloring. The man was a weaver, and had contrived to extract from the yarn the
colors with which he had adorned his lonely retreat.
In one place we found a home-made fiddle-happily
we did not hear its utterings. In another, a flute
and something between a guitar and a banjo. This
cell was highly decorated with bright pictures.
Some of them with explanatory mottoes of capital
wit, and nothing so unbecoming as to make us turn
away.  The inmate was a young lively colored man,
whose prospect was a residence in that cell of several years. He had half covered in his airing yard,
and got a small stove erected to help him in some
ingenious work. I asked why he had not covered
the whole yard. He said he could see and feel the
sun in this corner, and at night he liked to come out
and look at the stars. I observed my friend asked
him gently about the trespass that had occasioned
his being there, and remembering that the settled
form of question at home  on such subjects is not,
"What did you do?" but (' What did they say you
did?" I listened with curiosity for his reply.   He
owned he had been engaged in a robbery, that it was
I
I
293 
PRISONS. 
294              PRISONS.
very wrong; and then hinted at the circumstances
of distress which led him to it. He was urged to
read the Scriptures and some tracts which were in
his cell, to learn all he could from the Instructor,
to pray, and by all means keep himself busy; and
as he clearly had a turn for drawing, my kind friend
promised him some designs to copy. His frank confiding look seemed as though he could pour out all
his mind to her, and it required one to look around
to be reminded that, in spite of his pleasant countenance, he was shut up within these walls, and that
this was a convict cell. We found ingenious implements and machines in some of the yards, which the
turnkeys took pleasure in showing us. And in the
hot-house of the spacious garden, we found a smart
gardener, who politely regretted that he could only
offer us poor flowers; February was not a favorable
month, and some other ladies had been there yesterday. He had turned sickly at some house occupation, and been sent to his own employment in the
garden. It required a determined belief that my
informant told truth, to enable me to accept the
conviction that this polite, amiable man was a convict.
It is true that a polished exterior may be but as
a whited sepulchre. Yet I am persuaded that a
294
PRISONS. 
PRISONS.              295
criminal is more likely to return from his evil ways,
when he is not driven to sinister and sullen looks by
the impression that no eye is turned kindly on him,
and that every hand is against him.
The Tombs in New York is more like a policeoffice, or Bridewell in England, as no one remains
there, after trial, for a sentence of more than a few
days. The countenances in that dismal place are
dark enough. Though even there, some excited
strong sympathy.   One respectable German woman
had the misfortune to witness a crime, and was shut
up with the worthless lest she should be out of the
way when wanted to give her testimony. She was a
stranger, and had none to give bail for her.  How
she wept and beseeched, when spoken to in her native tongue, and how degrading she felt her present
position!  We  found the white women  generally
shut up in pairs, but one cell was unlocked for us,
rather larger than the others, where eight or ten
blacks were huddled together in so small a space
that it shocked me very much. Poor things, they
were willing to listen, and two who could read promised to read aloud to the rest some tracts which we
left.  Nearly all the white women owned their being in that place arose from drinking.
Strange it is to go through another nation and find
I
I
PRISONS.
295 
296              PRISONS.
resemblances so strong in everything between it and
one's own. Virtue for virtue-invention for invention-enterprise for enterprise-principle for principle-daring for daring-crime for crime-O England! 0 America! you are indeed parent and child.
Would that your similarities may draw you to help,
and to love, and to correct each other.
There is much work carried on in the prisons.
The hewing and sawing of marble is one very productive employment, and much to be prized for its
healthful effects in preference to tailoring and boot and
shoe making.  There, however, though work is more
plentiful than workmen, complaints are made, as in
Britain, that such State manufactures have the effect of injuring the private mechanic. The beautiful City Hall of Brooklyn is built of white marble,
every column and cornice of which came down ready
for its place in the edifice from the State Prison at
Auburn. While the masons, who had a personal interest in the City Hall, felt that they could have
hewn all the marble without convict help. To compare small things with great, a poor sempstress in
our own country told me the other day, that she had no
more shirts to make from the linen warehouse that
used to employ her, for the people at the "Shelter"
not only made the linen, but, being expert laun
296
PRISONS. 
PRJSONS.              297
dresses, sent it home ready done up, fit for the
counter.
It is difficult to do good in one branch of a
crowded society without injuring another, or to feel
at liberty to rejoice over the prosperity of an institution which opens its door to reclaim the wanderer,
if thereby you impoverish and increase the hardships of the honest and industrious.
The prison of New York State is a huge factory,
where enough is earned annually to clear its expenditure, and something over. Society is cleansed by
its means of the profligate,-and they who would
form nuisances to themselves and others are rendered productive to the State, while their own happiness is promoted.
297
PRISONS. 
IT has been well inquired whether it be cheaper
to allow youths to become criminals, and then support them at public charge, or to control the early
causes of criminality, and thereby rear up honest
and useful members of society. During the formation of the character, the law-court is an idle lookeron, it is not till that formed character exhibits itself
in trespass and disturbance, that law can restrain it.
"Follow the embryo convict a few years, during
childhood and youth.   Behold the circumstances
that made him what he is-circumstances (in one
sense) beyond his control-circumstances which the
community might, and ought to have controlled.
There are hundreds of children growing up in our
state, in conditions, and surrounded by circumstances that render it morally certain they will become
candidates for the prison or the gallows. It is in
our power to change these circumstances. Shall we
Iutrnitlt lot~tigutu~to and Trutunttut Inti{ttito 
JUVENILE DELINQUENTS.
do it?. Yes-it is in our power to change those circumstances by placing such children in a House of
Refuge; and every generous heart and reflecting
mind will say we should do it."
Such were the sentiments expressed by the founders of the first Pennsylvania House of Refuge.
There are several such houses now connected with
different States, partly sustained by the State, and
partly by private contribution. New York has two,
one in the city, and one at Rochester. Massachusetts has two-Ohio has one. New Orleans had
one, authorized by the State of Louisiana, which has
been destroyed by fire. It was a wooden structure,
and is expected to be replaced by more appropriate
buildings.
We had the pleasure of accompanying the Ladies'
Committee of the House of Refuge at Philadelphia,
on one of their monthly visits, and thus saw a little
of the internal working of the Institution.  The outset was striking to one who has plodded many a day
in the mud, endeavoring to lend a little help where
a great deal is needed.  The carriage of the House
came round and gathered up the Committee, and
repeated journeys were required before all were collected. The absence of tax on carriage, coachman,
and horses, allows many to drive in the United
I
299 
JUVENILE DELINQUENTS AND
States, whose equals in station and fortune here
never attain such a relief.
Another difference, of far more weight than this
to the cause of Christian charity, may be mentioned.
With us, benevolent females whose influence is calculated to be useful to their own sex, obtain admission as it were by stealth, or at any rate by great
favor, to prisons, Bridewells, infirmaries, &c. Nay,
it is a mortifying fact, that some who desired in
Christian love to enter, have been turned back from
their gates, not being able to obtain orders from the
proper authorities.   In America the States invite
the co-operation of women in such offices as become
their sex, and look for their reports as guides in
their management, or in making  changes in the Institutions, and nobly do their women meet the wishes
of the rulers, and fulfil the expectation of their country. Calm, practical, and business-like, they are
able to say what they wish, exhibiting neither bashfulness nor boldness, having lost self in the interests
of the institution. I have heard a discussion where
there was miuch to be weighed, and a considerable
difference of opinion. It was conducted with ladylike firm politeness.  When put to the vote, and the
"ayes had it," the "noes," without any appearance
of temper, set to work on the side of the " ayes," and
300 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
went on with the business. In England I have seen
Quaker ladies act with equal simple decision. Perhaps their liberty arises from early training, or partly
from their emancipation from some of our aristocratic trammels. But how often have I seen matters which ought to have been taken up, allowed to
pass with us, merely because no one had courage to
speak out, or because Mrs. or Miss So-and-so thought
it was not her place to make the first move, when
the Hon. Mrs., or Lady So-and-so was present-thus
yielding the real interests of the institution to a
matter of etiquette.   One has sometimes left such a
committee with pain, fromnt the consciousness of having flinched from duty on some such petty ground,
when I am pretty sure my American sisters would
have had too much of the independent courage arising out of the love of the useful, to have left their
scene of labor with any such pain.
It was not my lot to fall in with any discussion
of this kind in the Refuge at Philadelphia. There
is much to be admired in its well-aired, orderly, and
beautifully clean apartments. Its bathing, and eating, and sleeping places, specially the latter, are admirably managed.   The long galleries which form
the dormitories are partitioned with brick, each bedroom having its own door and lock, and little win
~        ______
301 
302   JUVENILE DELINQUENTS A
dow-of glass.  The girls acquire habits of neatness
by the encouragement given them to decorate these
little chambers.  Daily, after making the bed, they
arrange whatever they have of pictures, pretty bags,
China figures, peacock's feathers-in short, they are
not particular, —anything that gives the air of pains,
design, and good order, is set forth, or hung up.
Happy is the girl whose lady-teacher, as a mark of
approbation, gives her a gay print, or a bit of bright
carpet. One would think, after examining fifty such
little dormitories, that no child is born in the country without a taste for the beautiful, and that no
one is so desolate as not to take pleasure in indulging it.
In some of these Institutions, one of the employments, which is in itself as dull as picking wool or
teazing oakum, has arisen out of American ingenuity
and thrift, and was quite new to me.  It is the
making of rag carpets. They cut cloths of all textures and colors into lone stripes, tack them together
so that they will follow the shuttle, and wind them
into large balls.   In this stage they are sent to the
weaver, who uses them as the woof which crosses a
wide warp of hempen cords, and he sends home gay,
comfortable, rough-looking carpets, with which the
rooms and the staircases of some institutions are
I 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
covered. Such thrifty and long-lasting carpets are
found in the houses of tradespeople, of all complexions, in town and country. They are also used often
in the basement or kitchens of the opulent.
In the Refuge, we had the pleasure of seeing the
young people promoted to higher classes according
to their attainments, and after examination of the
reports of the Matron and teachers as to their obedience, industry, and orderliness. They were neatly
dressed, but not in uniform, the school aprons alone
being all alike. When we learnt that many had been
plucked from dens of dirt and wretchedness, and that
some had been placed there by parents who could
not manage them, it was very pleasant to consider
the better path which the Christian discipline of
this house opens for them. We heard them sing
several hymns in a modest, agreeable manner, and
saw by the glances interchanged between some of
them and the ladies, that friendly relations are established and affections drawn out which cannot fail
to produce a refining influence on their tempers and
myers.
TV ew York also has had for twenty-six years its
Society for the Reformation of Juvenile Delinquents,
in the establishment and conduct of which, both the
Legislature of the State and Corporation of the City,:
303 
304   JUVENILE DELINQUENTS AND
take an interest. It has also a ladies Committee,
which reports annually to the Legislature, as does
the gentlemen's.  Yery many of its inmates have
never been criminals, but are placed there as refractory, or as having fallen;to bad company, by parents
who cannot control them.  The number received in
the house last year was 380, and disposed of in that
period, 371. The list of their indentures comprises
nearly every imaginable trade; and it is remarkable
that among so many, most of them of previous evil
habits, there is not one death to record in 1850.
The managers are not content with merely training and educating the children while under their care,
but keep up a knowledge of their circumstances even
for years after they have passed into other positions,
and long after the expiry of their term of indenture.
Many of the letters from their employers, published
in the reports, are of a character to cheer the managers in their labor, which is arduous. A specimen,
almost the first that opens, is given. All the Reports of similar Societies contain a similar compartment:   "John M'G. was received, April 18, 1840. He
was sent to the Institution by      County Sessions
for theft. HIe had been running with idle, pilfering
boys, refusing the admonitions of his friends for 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
more than a year, and had acquired many bad habits.
He was indentured, April 13, 1847, to a farmer, and
we have received the following account of him:
OCTOBER 25, 1850.
RESPECTED FRIEND,
John M'G. still continues with me; he is healthy
and seems contented. When I first took him, he
was very troublesome, but is now doing well. He
attends Church and Sabbath School, also District
School during the winter, and makes good progress.
He appears anxious to make something of himself
and I amn trying to do all I can to encourage him.
He is a smart boy, trusty and honest, so far as I
know. I shall continue to do well by him, hoping
he will make a useful man.
Respectfully yours,       B. W."
Here is a boy who for ten years has been the child
of the State, and now is " anxious to ntake something
of himself"  Is the State put to more expense and
trouble by sustaining this Institution, than it would
be by keeping up a Bridewell, where the boy might
have been committed for sixty days, and dismissed a
more confirmed rogue than he entered? While in
the Refuge, he doubtless did something towards his
20
I
305 
JUVENILE DELINQUENTS AND
own maintenance besides acquiring habits of industry and good order.   At present, for want of room,
they are obliged to pass the children much more
quickly through the New York Institution than formerly; but to avoid that evil they are about to enlarge their accommodation, and hope soon to be located in a new position on the southern end-of Ward's
Island.
A circular letter of inquiry is sent annually to
each person who has indentured a child from the
Refuge. We give one reply in reference to a girl,
to show that the females share equally with the
males the care of the Institution.
SEPTEMBEPR 8, 1850.
]EAR SIR,
I received your communication relative to Jane
M., and am happy to inform you that she still remains with me.  She is industrious and much improved in her education. My family have the utmost confidence in her, she advises with them on all
subjects, and seems very ambitious to do well. She
has given us entire satisfaction.  Her time will soon
expire, and I can say that she is a respectable
young woman.   Her future prospects are flattering.
Yours, &c.,        E. B.
I
I
306 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.               307
Answers to the inquiring circulars, though very
satisfactory, are not so interesting as proofs of established character. as are the visits of former inmates, men and women, who are now free of indenture, and on their own responsibilities in life. In
the superintendent's journal we find mixed up with
other events as quite common, such notices as this:
"April 22, Margaret F., who was indentured to Mr.
T. V., of the town of -        visited us to-day.  She
has served her time as Mr.  V. informs  us, with
credit to herself, giving him entire satisfaction. She
will stay a day or two with us, and then go to
Newark, with a friend of Mr. V., on good wages.
She is one of the many saved by being sent to the
Refuge.(  " John L. also visited us, after having been absent
three years; a fine-looking young man-he says he
is doing well."
It is a beautiful feature in the character of these
people, that they are not ashamed to own the nurse
which plucked them from degradation, and placed
them on the road to respectability.   Their visits of
gratitude, some of which I have witnessed, are very
delightfiul, and cannot fail to encourage the laborers
in their difficult way. In most of these Refuges,
there is a colored department for both girls and 
308   JUVENILE DELINQUENTS AND
boys-and their schools as well as meals and playgrounds are separate. I have not been able to discern any complexional distinction in the replies to
their circulars of inquiry, or in any journal account
of visits, and am therefore inclined to hope that the
cases of colored and white are indiscriminately
stated.
The  Female  Guardian Society or  "Home for
the Friendless," though not coming under tlhe head
of a Delinquent's Refuge, yet in some respects partakes of the same character. Many of its imnates
find shelter there, from the misery of bad homes and
wicked parents; and many seek it in consequence
of other misfortunes that flesh is heir to.
The arrangement of its house is excellent. The
adults find a respectable place and honest employment till they are provided for elsewhere-and a
large number of nurslings, who would otherwise be
exposed to every misery are educated when well,
and tended when sick with maternal care. There
is a house of reception at the back of the ground, to
be used in case of infectious disease.  Last year
three hundred and thirty-three adults were received
and two hundred and ninety-eight dismissed to situations.   Of children, two hundred  and  thirty-six
were received, and one hundred and forty-four pro 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
vided with situations. The discipline of the house
is excellent, and the kindness of the managers, shining in their careful affectionate countenances,
seems to an imaginative mind like that Arabian
well called the " diamond of the desert," bright, refreshing, life and love restoring to young hearts
crushed by destitution, harshness, and immorality.
They sometimes find places for young widows and
forsaken wives, even when they carry a babe with
them.   This being an arrangement unknown with
us, I introduce a letter which refers to a young
woman, who works for small wages on condition
that she may retain her infant for a considerable
time.
" * * *  E. says I may tell the ladies that she
does not think she could have had a better home
that she is contented and happy, and does not wish
to return to the city.  So far as I have seen, she is
a truly worthy person. She will be well provided
for here. She is decidedly the best help I ever
had, and altogether better than I had any idea she
would be. But I had committed my way unto the
Lord, believing that he who numbers the hairs of
our head would, if applied to, condescend to notice
our domestic concerns, and I have not been disappointed.
I
309 
310    JUVENILE DELINQUENTS AND
"Mr. W. thinks everything of the little one.  I do
not know as he will ever be willing that he should
leave us.
"Yours in Christian love,
" F. M. W."
Symptoms  here  of  adoption!  Good-natured,
cheerful, and affectionate, the American farmer is
not the man to trust with such a light in his dwelling as a pleasant child, if you do not wish it to be
retained there.
The "Home for the Friendless" has quickly taken
a much higher position in the estimation of the public as a place for providing servants than any of the
intelligence offices. It is continually resorted to,
both by citizens and country people, and makes arrangements which turn out useful and comfortable
to both parties.  Friends in the remote part of the
State of New York send contributions of work,
which are sold in a room called the Store of the
Home. Much that is the fruit of taste, ingenuity,
and notableness is to be procured there-specially
the pretty patched quilts, lightly lined with cotton,
and neatly quilted, which make a cover as light, and
at the same time as warm as any eiderdown you
may sleep under in Germany. Under the power 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
of machinery, making Marseilles quilts and rugs of
all colors, patterns, and dimensions so quickly, and
at such moderate rates, we in Britain are losing the
notable habits of our grandmothers. It would require some practice before we could produce such
nice quilts as are to be seen in all the American
institutions.
The Female Guardian Society has added to its
other efforts at usefulness a semi-monthly paper,
called the " Female  Advocate."   Together with
moral instruction conveyed in tales and poetry,
which are tasteful as well as religious, it records instances of the escapes from danger and temptation
of some friendless females, and introduces salutary
warnings and cautions as to hidden snares. It notices books in unison with its peculiar subjects, and
gives pertinent hints on education, training of servants, and house-keeping in general. The paper is
well conducted, and by its wide circulation extends
an interest in the success of the plans of the Hlome
for the Friendless many hundred miles beyond the
City.
There is a common sense about American charities, which sometimes brought the towered halls and
pinnacles of" mine own romantic town" to mind in
rather vexatious contrast.  With us, a rich man —
311 
312   JUVENILE DELINQUENTS AND
who may have been niggard of kindness to his poor
relatives, or secretly chuckled at their procuring
private aid from the society for helping decayed gentlewomen-is about to make his will.  He cannot
carry money to the world he is approaching. He
transfers his covetousness to a new object, and now
becomes desirous of posthunous fame.   He  bequeaths his hoard for the building of an Hospital to
bear his name to posterity, and prefer in its charitable entertainment candidates who are his namesakes.
His trustees come into guardianship of the hoard.
Do they hasten to fulfil the last will and testament,
so that the poor may have bread and the orphan
education? No such thing. Those who come under the description of the will are in no pressing
need. So the trustees set their thoughts on enriching with another splendid building their native city,
already rich in architectural ornaments.  They put
the fund out to nurse for ten or twenty years, till
they can make something handsome, something in
keeping with this edifice, or that will form a grand
point of view in referencee to that.  After a generation has passed, it rises a noble building, with no particularly noble name; and by and bye it is occupied; but often with children who would have learned
more of domestic affection and family virtue, and
r 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
thus have made better heads of families in their
turn, had they remained at their father's hearth,
where they might, out of his honest earnings, have
been educated in the parish school, and grown stout
and hearty on his homely fare.
:LIn America the order of progress is reversed, a
pressing want is felt —a man or woman with energy
and a Christian heart to guide it, falls in with two
or three orphans.  What is to be done with them 
Some compassionate friends are consulted. They
join purses, hire a room, and engage a nurse. Presently another and another claimant on their humanity appears. They must hire a larger house. They
must interest a wider circle, and by that means find
access to their purses. Before another year passes
over them, you shall find them under legislative protection, making their laws, receiving legacies, purchasing lots, and at last erecting a handsome and
substantial edifice. By the time the building is
finished, the inmates rejoice to enter on its more
roomy and airy premises.
I believe I am correct in giving this as the history
of the Orphan, the Half Orphan, and the Colored
Orphan Asylums, the Home for the Friendless, and
the Colored Home.C.It is not first a gorgeous palace, and then the inmates.   It is first the cry of the
313 
314   JUVENILE DELINQUENTS AND
widow and fatherless, then the heart stirred with
compassion, and after that the house of shelter.
Edinburgh has many institutions, the result of
spontaneous benevolence.   But it is a contradictory
state of things, that while we have magnificent asylums which are not much required, the really important places, such as the Refuge, the Night Refuge,
the Maternity Hospital, the Shelter, the Delinquent's
Refuges, and the Ragged Schools, can barely find
funds to sustain them.   One circumstance which depresses our charities is, that in our thronged population-once a claimant for external help-the aided
becomes always a burden. There is no room to
plant him, no hope of being rid of him. In America thousands get a lift when under casual pressure,
and pass on. Newly-landed and newly-born emigrants are aided in their extremity, but soon find
place and means of support, and are heard of no
more.  In a year or two they are thriving "down
East," or "out West," adding to the resources of
the country instead of burdening them. 
In  examining  the report with  whiilh, without
waiting for solicitation on my part, I was in every
place bountifully furnished, I find evidence that
necessity is invariably first proved, and then it operates as the main-spring of action, Thus the  ap
I
I
II
i
I
I
II
I
I
i
i 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
plications for a night's shelter, made at the Rosine
House, Philadelphia, by women who had not the
melancholy claim of its poor wanderer-inmates, led
to the formation of the "Temporary  Home  Association," for the benefit of friendless women and
children, somewhat on the plan of our House of
Industry, or our Servant's and Sailor's Homes.
Houses which not only alleviate present necessities,
but act as preventatives against surrounding dangers.
Were it not for fear of prolixity, it would be an
enjoyment to myself to describe minutely what is
to be seen in many of these charitable retreats from
the world's hardships.  I might mention the contented expression of countenance of many a dusky
woman approaching to her eightieth year, and her
expressions, not of complaint in the midst of infirmities, but of gratitude that God had afforded her
a comfortable bed and room, with only other three
in it, to wait so quietly in till He calls her home.
I might describe the sick-ward in the Colored
Home, and the tender pity of the ladies, flitting
from  couch to couch, reading with one, giving a
tract to another, and speaking kindly to a third.   I
might tell of my deep interest in the colored orphans in another house. Their lively recital of lessons, their almost lightning-look, questioning of
I
I
r
I
I
315 
316      JUVENILE  DELINQUENTS AND
each other in turn. Their skill in the geography
of the United States-their sweet and cheerful
songs, so well adapted to the country and to themselves. I might tell of little ones there, under
strong spiritual influence, taking charge of putting
some younger than themselves to bed, and being
overheard, evening after evening, exhorting, imploring, and praying with them. I might mention their
essays laid in the committee-room for inspection,
quite equal to any productions of white children,
whose ages and opportunities are equal.
We might go to Philadelphia and spend hours
with the indigent widows and single women, in
their airy house-learn their histories from themselves, and admire the plants they cherish, the wool
they knit, the silken patch-work they make, and the
tranquillity they enjoy. Or, with the ladies of the
Nurse Society, we might inquire into the events in
the district of each during the month, and learn
how many lives have been saved by proper supplies
of necessaries and kind attentions in the hours of
nature's sorrow; or admire the economy of a charity that can succor so many at so cheap a rate.
" Many poor emigrants with families of little children, have touched our country just in time to make
a native of their youngest born, without the means
I
i 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
of providing for themselves or little ones, and
Providence who clothes the lilies of the field, has
mercifully afforded relief through the patrons of
the Moyamensing district of the Nurse Society."*
A pile of reports, a foot deep, interest, without
tiring one who has the buildings, the ladies, and the
objects of their charity, placed by them, afresh before her eyes, but they cannot interest others in the
same way.
It is enough to say that the footsteps of Mrs.
Graham-whose name is familiar and honored in
Scotland-and of her friend Mrs.  Hoffman, have
been followed steadily by her successors.   The
judgment, the economy, the heathful regulations, and
the Christian influences, which she was so happy as
to introduce into the Orphan Asylum, her Widow's
Society, and her Sabbath-schools, forty-five years
since, are still the pattern of her State and city.
Happy she to have fallen on a time which opened
the way for the exercise of all her Christian piety
and skill. Happy time, in its necessities, that had
an Isabella Graham for a guide in the outset of
philanthropic effort.
It is now more than thirty years since Dr. Mason
saw, for the first time, an' English edition of that
* Eleventh Report of the Nurse Society of Philadelphia.
317 
318    JUVENILE DELINQUENTS AND
goodl woman's life on our table. He was glad to
see it, and told us of her family; so that to meet
her now venerable daughter, Mrs. Bethune, still at
the end of forty-five years, acting as first Directress
of that same Orphan Asylum which her mother
founded, was like finding a link which bound the
past and the departed to the present and the useful.
How few live to see a good work advance in its
useful cause, without once being turned aside for
nearly half a century. How pleasant was it to stand
in the noble mansion at Bloomingdale, the monument
of the States' benevolence, and hear of the small beginning of the asylum, and look on the portraits of
benefactors now in heaven. How pleasant to hear
large and accurately taught bands of orphans examined, to look on their thriving countenances, to listen
to their sweet voices as they sung; and to learn,
when admiring the ingenious liveliness of many of
the infant school exercises,that the dear old lady by
our side was the living, sprightly inventor of all that
wit, fun, and instruction, and also of many of the
more sacred lessons. How quickening to the heart's
throb to see a crowd of babes flock around her
knees, each wishing to be noticed and caressed.
On the exhibition day, when they were brought
into the city that the public might see all the chil 
BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
dren, consisting of babes of two years old to boys
and girls of fifteen, we stayed to congratulate the dear
First Directress on the appearance made by her bloom ing family. But it was not easy to approach her she was encircled by a band of good-looking young
men, well dressed, and of pleasing expression.
"Who are all these, dear lady, who surround you so
that one cannot reach your hand?"  " Oh, these are
a few of my own boys, who expect to see me here
once a year. I am glad to see their faces, and to
know that they are prospering."  "I should think
that they had grown out of your knowledge." " No
-no-I know all that keep up the acquaintance.
Here is one-a troublesome little fellow he was.
He always thought when I went to mind my business that I had nothing to do but nurse him.  I
used to push him away. He was two years old."
"And so you did nurse me," said the grateful man,
"but I was younger than that, I was not a year and
a half when you took me up."
It was a sight to make the heart sing; and one's
sympathies flowed out with theirs, when the respected son of the venerated lady* made his way to her
and embraced her, and their eyes were moistened as
they looked on each other.
* The Rev. Dr. Bethune of Brooklyn.
Il
319 
IT is a curious and rather painful sight, to watch
the emptying of a newly-arrived cargo of Emigrants
on the unknown shore.  Squalid, thinly clad, and far
from clean, you instantly distinguish the bony Irishman, with his wife, and all the children, dragging an
ill-packed bundle tied with a bit of rope, which is
made long enough by the help of a stripe of ticking, or a list border.: They slide their bundle- their
all'of worldly wealth-down a plank, and having
drawn it aside on the dock, they hang helplessly
around it, the children tumbling on it, till the ship
has disgorged her motley company, and all are ready
to appear at the Emigrant Office.  Next you will
see a pair of stout, thickly-clothed Germnans, letting
down their heavy chest well nailed and corded, with
a parcel of bedding on the top. And again, a rosy,
round-cheeked Englishman, with his deal box, painted red.  Each pours forth with a load to carry or
care for, like the busy population on an ant-hill,
I
f, t 30tauho. 
THE ISLANDS.
and group after group sit on or watch by their
slender store.:What will become of them all? Are
any of them sick?  Will they all find employment?
Why they will cumber the country.  It will lose its
American identity.   How  can that be preserved
with such a mixed multitude flowing into it?  Spare
your solicitude, good stranger. Do you observe the
thick, whitened waters of the Father of Rivers as
they mingle with the sea? They discolor it for a
little space-presently it becomes but a slight tinge,
and long before the waves that meet the Mississippi
have flowed back to the Reefs of Florida, the mud
is deposited in the bottom of the Gulf, and the
waters of the river are amalgamated with the waters
of the Ocean.
Nothing convinces one more of the force and mass
of the American character, than to see that the immense influx of foreigners has no power to modify
it. The new-comers become modified speedily, chiefly
through the political institutions.   Many a mind,
indolent before, perceives that it has something to
do and something to obtain here, and so is roused to
untried activity. Many, alas! have been roused to
indignation by the treachery of selfish wretches who
have boarded their vessel, promised all kinds of assistance, and sold to them so-called railway tickets
21
321 
THE ISLANDS.
to Buffalo; and when at Albany the poor ignorant
strangers have presented them, they have found that
they were tickets for canal-boats on which they must
linger for very many days, providing food out of
their slender funds! Such base dealings not only
rouse indignation, but teach the half-passive that
they must be active, or they cannot get along amidst
a set of sharpers. I am happy to know that such
baseness to the stranger and the poor is now put a
stop to, and that the instructions obtained at the
Emigrant Offices-I believe there are two-act both
as guide and protector to these unfortunates. Hardship they must and do encounter; they are accustomed to that, but their hopes were high, that freedom and justice were bound together on the shores
of the new world. To be met on their very first
business transaction by an act of roguery, is confounding and discouraging in a high degree-the
more so that, in general, it has been fellow-countrymen, feigning sympathy and acts of kindness, who
have dealt the blow.
Of the multitude who come annually from Europe
to try a new home, many bring education and property enough to have a plan and follow it in their future settlement. But many suffer from as great
poverty of knowledge as of property, while some are
322 
THE ISLANDS.
also poor in health.   The East River is beautifully
speckled over with Islands which the wisdom of the
Legislature has chosen as the receptacles of various
sets of people requiring guardianship and superintendence  while its taste has caused buildings to be
raised for all their purposes, which adorn the scene
already a very gem of beauties.
On  WARD'S  ISLAND is the great dep6t where
healthy Emigrants are sent to wait till they can be
disposed of at work in the interior of the country.
Here they rest, with light employment and under
good regulations, till they recover from the effects
of voyages made in crowded ships.
The Captain of the Emigrant ship is bound to
produce twelve shillings currency, that is six shillings sterling, for each emigrant that he carries.
This levy supports satisfactorily the immense establishment.  There the German finds everything excellent, with the exception of the absence of his beer
-and the astonished Irishman eats the first roast
beef he ever tasted. They have a story of a Ward's
man inquiring of an Irishman why, when he wrote
to his brother pressing him to come out, he had
told him that they had butcher's meat twice a week,
when he knew they had it every day in life?
" Why," said Pat, " I need not ha' been telling him
1 323 
THE ISLANDS.
that, for he would never ha' belaved it." They do
not generally require to stay long on the Island.
Qn BLAcKWELL's ISLAND we find the prison of
the city of New York.   The people here seem not
under such close discipline as in the State Prison.
But we saw bands of men gardening, terrace-making,
levelling, and forcing land on their naturally sandy
soil. They have made a very handsome facade of
terraces, which one admires in sailing up the river.
But their Island will presently be adorned to the
last point, and their ingenuity will then be tasked to
find other occupation.
The City Poor-House is also there. We saw
about 400 women, and a nursery of babes, on the
female side.  Every place of this description is clean
and airy. The absence of coal-smoke, the annual
painting, the windows, doors, and piazzas all so well
contrived for ventilation, give an air and a feeling
of cheerfulness, which I have not found in similar
establishments in England.  We found women reading, sewing, knitting, and tending the sick, besides
the stout band employed as laundresses, cooks, &c.
The Insane Asylum is also placed on Blackwell's
Island.  It is a very fine building, with a remarkably beautiful iron staircase, which combines beauty
and strength in a high degree.  The hand-rail is of
324 
THE ISLANDS.
dark oak; the stair is spiral, shedding gracefully off
into a gallery at each landing-place. There is a fine
libraryv, in which we found a solitary German, whose
delight is to work daily amongst the books, and
whose humor is, as we found, not to answer any
questions. We visited several wards under the guidance of one of the medical attendants, and left the
place with the usual feeling of depression which the
sight of remediless misery is calculated to excite.
We were rowed ashore, as we had been to the
Island, by a set of stout oarsmen, whose skill, and
knowledge of the strong current running up with the
tide, were much needed to secure our safety. Yet
not a cent was asked or expected by the men. We
found this the case on visiting the other Islands, and
indeed everywhere in the country. Yet the dollar
is as mighty there as the sovereign is in England.
I presume the explanation to be this: all governinent institutions belong to the community, they
have a share and interest in them, and consequently
means are taken to admit the people to examine
them without charge.
At Washington we happened to be divided from
our genitlemanal escort.  Iil the Capitol we asked a
watchman to admit us to the dome. He guided us
up the many flights of steps, and through many gal
I
325 
THE ISLANDS.
leries, and on the roof pointed out the counties and
States, the rivers and cities, and the nearer public
buildings and statues, and took mnuch pains lest we
should find any difficulty in the descent. I had
been cogitating as we descended, whether half a dollar, or a whole one, were the right reward to present
to so polite and pains-taking a guide  when lo! on
looking round at the bottom, he had glided away,
and I saw him retreating across the rotunda. They
have not here any fat and lazy hangers-on of Government, who obtain, in lieu of a pension, the privilege of preying on chance visitors. No Beef-eaters,
as they now call the successors of the old attendants
on the Buffet, or side-board, with their jolly faces,
and black velvet hats, and Elizabethan ruffs, to
hurry you through the place, while they hurry
through their story, and care for nothing about you,
except the coin they have earned by their services.
On RANDALL'S ISLAND there is also a large establishment. To it, as to the others, we went, leaving
our carriage on the opposite side, and signalling for
a boat, which came for us at once, and brought us
back when we had seen all we wished to see, without
charge. On this island we saw upwards of 1,100
children, from two to fourteen years old. Here the
foundlings, the parentless, and the offspring of the
326 
THE ISLANDS.
worthless and wretched are cared for.  We entered
our names in the Manager's book.   On reading
mine, he said, " You are from Scotland, I suppose.
Out of these 1,100 children, nine tenths are Irish,
a very few English, the remainder are German  we
have little to do with your country here." So we
found it on Blackwell's Island, in the Hospitals, and
elsewhere. Our country-people have a name for upright industry, forethought, and economy, which obtains for them a welcome. Domestics, either male
or female, are much preferred from Seotland, and
repeatedly our ears were greeted with the accents
of our own Doric from the coachman, when driving
with friends in various cities.
Dr. Bethune gave us a characteristic anecdote,
which it is pleasant to record. The people in Philadelphia were moved with pity for the Highlanders,
on occasion of a severe famine, which occurred some
years ago, and assembled to consult on the most
efficient way to aid them. If I remember right, a
cargo of flour was what they agreed to send. Whatever it was, several present cheerfully volunteered to
go round the city, and raise the money from door to
door. The Scotchmen present were not gratified,
but troubled, by the kind proposal, and, after mutual consultation, an old gentleman stood up and
327 
THE ISLANDS.
asked what money would be required, and on a sum
being mentioned, he said with much emotion, that
"the people of his country were not used to beg, and
would not like it. If the meeting would excuse
them, though they were full of gratitude, they would
rather raise the necessary amount among themselves'"
-and they did so —not, however, declining volunteered assistance.
But I must return to Randall's Island, where we
found no countryman. It was Saturday. The children were at play. The boys with fife and drum.
and banners waving marched, about twelve deep,
past the front of,the Centre Hiouse where we stood.
Though most of them were of foreign extraction,
everything in their training is calculated to naturalize or rather citizenize them. This plan we found
pursued in all the institutions.  It is wonderful how
early they learn to feel themselves a part of the community, and to consider what becomes them in that
capacity.  Each banner had its motto, "Washington's body-guard," "Washington, the honest boy and
friend of his country," "Are we not a band of brothers?" &c. We afterwards saw them exercise in a
great open hall, shaded from the sun and heard them
sing "Hail Columbia," and other patriotic songs.
Then two young orators stood on a bench and ha
I
I
328 
THE ISLANDS.
rangued "right well," about the power of steam and
of the uses of railways; and of the fun they should
have on the 4th of July, when they would fire squibs,
cry huzza, eat nice fruit and sugar-plums, drink cool
iced water, and not reduce themselves below the beast
with intoxicating liquors, and finally sing "Yankee
Doodle." The little fellows are all embryo statesmen. The voice, enunciation, and air of one of
those we heard, marked him out for an orator.
What should prevent him from rising to high office
in the State?  We saw them at dinner.   On inquiring why two boys stood on the floor looking on while
the others were eating, an attendant said that was
the punishment for rudeness to each other, but that
they should dine when the rest had done and
returned to their play. Each child had his little
towel fixed to his collar. It serves as a napkin at
meals. and also for washing.   The plan for ablution
was quite new to me, and the object of its construction is, that no one child may by possibility touch
the water used by another. In the centre of the
room is fixed a circular bath-tub. large enough for a
child to swim in, with an aperture in the bottom
which carries off its contents. Around the inside
rim of the huge tub runs a pipe in which are twentyfour orifices about a foot apart. When the water
L         _
I
329 
THE ISLANDS.
is turned on it flows out at these, and each child
takes his turn to occupy one of them, dabbling freely
in the cooling stream, but never finding it possible
twice to touch the same water, as it is all the time
flowing away. Their dormitories are airy. They
use iron bedsteads, and each child has a bed to himself.
The division of the extensive buildings devoted
to the girls is exactly on the same plan as the other.
We saw them go through various evolutions, and
heard them, recite and sing.  We saw their nurses
at dinner. Their aspect was very unpleasing to me,
and when their history was explained I did not wonder. They are all taken from among the criminals
on Blackwell's Island. Fierce, vulgar, and unkind,
the few words that reached the ear too well suited
the appearance of those who used them; and the
poor orphans at their mercy seemed little likely to
crowd round their knees to seek for attention.
Amongst the many profuse and well-ordered charities
in this generous country, which draw forth the warmest admiration, this is the solitary instance of false
economy that has come under my notice.   A few
hundred dollars per annumin would procure mild, tender, and  Christian "care-takers" for these poor
nurslings, some of whom looked delicate, and all of
ifi~~ ~~~_ _ _  _                     -
i
I
330 
THE ISLANDS.
whom are capable of moral injury or improvement,
according to the treatment to which they are subject.
d to me defective in the common
his and other  establishments.
rncing any denominational reli limits their religious  instruc smal l portion of Scripture is
s not generally any questioning
techisms or texts  are taught.
on Sunday for Protestants, and
or Papists.  If there were real
, the opportunity could not fail
ver these poor friendless things.
retained over them by their pathem in the Church of Rome.
see the idiots of the place, who,
entage of most of the inmates,
s as might have been expected.
an and my companions were surand dissuaded me.   But, since
-for success of Dr. Guggenbuhl
e Abendberg in catching up the
tellect, and unwinding it gently
nd cheering physical treatment,
einced that many are given up to
331
slender, thread of int
along with bracing a
I have become convi 
THE ISLANDS.
hopeless idiocy, who'might by proper treatment be
very considerably elevated.
We found twenty-seven set around the walls of a
room, like gnarled and withered plants. They were
clean and well cared-for, by a kind old woman, who
looks as if half her own intellect had fled, without,
however, having injured her large benevolence, during the years that she has cherished her most discouraging charge. The remembrance of them is
melancholy,-not a toy, a bit of twine, or a soft ball,
was there to teach them the use of their poor, long,
feeble, skinny fingers, or to interrupt the monotony
of existence. In some of the " Homes," kind ladies
have supplied this want, and the little ones trot about
with horses on wheels, hoops, balls, or dolls.   It
would be of use in various ways if some such gifts
might find their way into this doleful ward. Several
of them seemed susceptible of interests,-smiling
on the doctor, and watching their companions as he
spoke to them in turn. Two of them proposed to
sing for us "Mary in Heaven."-they did sing, after
afashion. Their song, however, turned out to be
"The Castle of Montgomery."  As they knew the
words of that song, which they had probably learned
before they came there, they must have been capable of learning a hymn.  After we left them, one
332 
THE  ISLANDS.
merry little chap called over the window, "You did
not hear my song." Not liking to disappoint him,
we returned and heard " Old Virginia's Shore," in a
very  imperfect  pronunciation.    Several  seemed
greatly to enjoy the song, and the return of the company to hear it; and there were evidences that
many of them might be taught something which
might render life less dreary, and even awaken in
them some sense of the powers of the world to come.
But who has time and patience or benevolence
for so repulsive an undertaking? No one probably
but some medical experimenter on matter and mind.
No inmates of the huge dwelling were more tidy,
or had a more airy apartment than they. It is a
great thing that the State clothes, feeds, and tends
these poor things-many of them victims of parental profligacy-and does not allow them to roam
about like the "fool Jacks" and "daft Jamies" that
we used to see a few years since hanging about innyards and gateways in Scotland.
This day was entirely interesting and satisfactory,
in spite of the powerful sun which glared upon us.
And the kind lady, whose acquaintance we made at
the " Home for the Friendless," and who, out of her
generous good-will, offered to conduct us, rendered
it by her society still more interesting.
333 
THE ISLANDS.
On STATEN ISLAND, which forms one side of the
Bay of New York, is the Quarantine House, where
emigrants unfit on account of sickness to be taken
to Ward's Island, are cared for.  Here many a patient in ship-fever is carried to be medicated and
nursed-maniy are restored to health, but many also
die.
The "Sailor's Snug Harbor" has also found its
place on Staten Island; but being, as we were told,
the fruit of private beneficence, it does not come
into the same class with the institutions on the other
islands.
Those who have buffeted with winds and waves
for many a day, find in this beautiful locality a haven
of repose-a kind of miniature Greenwich Hospital. To escape the tedium of being unemployed,
some of them have learned the art of making baskets of a tough, reedy-looking substance, in such
elegant forms that you might imagine them modelled
in Greece or Etruria, rather than woven by hands
that have heaved at the capstan and furled the sail.
334 
Vpaf anl ItinB.
THERE is a Scotch proverb, " It is easier to look
on a burden than to lift it," meaning that the sympathizer does not feel so keenly as the sufferer.
The result of this truth is, that many sufferers remain unaided. Yet the Christian part of our world
shows varied and noble establishments, the sole
object of which is to lighten, if not remove, the
load of the burdened. We find it instructive to
look from the institution to its source, and can generally trace it to a single bosom where the chord of
compassion has been touched by a sight of distress
-and from that we thankfully follow it higher, till
we reach Him from whom  compassions flow, and
who hath the hearts of all men in his hand, and
turneth them as He turneth the rivers of water.
Thus was the heart of the benevolent Count Von De
Reeke touched when he found naked children living
on roots in a Silesian forest, whom a prolonged and
bloody war had rendered parentless.   Out of his 
DEAF AND BLIND.
emotion of pity sprung the Institution at Dasselthal
Abbey, which has preserved, educated, and sent out
in the world 1,400 orphans. Thus was the heart
of Mrs. Tomlinson moved, by the faithfulness of a
widow who rescued her children from a Popish
asylum, and preferred extreme poverty with them
to having them fed and perverted,-and out of this
sprung the Half Orphan Asylum, beginning in a
cellar, where a matron took charge of four babes.
One house after another, was found too strait for
them, till now they rank amongst the substantial
and excellent charities of New York. Thus, too,
was Dr. Guggenbuihl smitten with the idea that
there might exist some portion of mind under the
deformity and apparent idiocy of the poor Cretin.
He saw one of these miserable beings kneeling and
muttering before an image of the Virgin.   Compassion welled up till his heart had no repose-and out
of that has sprung the cheerful and prosperous hospital of the Abendberg, which has been parent to
another and    another, in Switzerland; to two schools
for those of feeble intellects, in England; and it is
expected that more of this humble but useful family
of charity are hastening to come forth vigorously in
America.
But the examples are numerous, and might oc
336 
DEAF AND BLIND.
cupy a chapter themselves. The only one that I
shall name in addition is connected closely with our
present subject.
In the city of Hartford it pleased God to afflict
a very lovely and intelligent young creature, Alice
Cogswell, with the loss of hearing. Hler father was
an eminent physician. HIlis ingenuity and inquiries
for the means of instructing his beloved child were
unceasing. But we prefer to quote a portion of an
oration delivered by Mr. Gallaudet to the re-assembled pupils of the Asylum which sprung out of
Alice's misfortune, after it has shed its benignant
influence on deaf mutes for thirty-five years.
" Some of our number, both teachers and pupils,
have gone to the spirit-world. She has gone, the
beloved Alice, my earliest pupil, who first drew my
attention to the deaf and dumb, and enkindled my
sympathy  for them.   We  will ever cherish her
memory and that of her father, one of your best
and long-tried friends. We will never forget that
to them under the divine guidance'and blessing,
we owe the origin of those ample provisions which
have been made for your benefit. For God saw fit
to visit her at a tender age, with your common
privation. And on whom- else, so intelligent and
lovely, could his mysterious yet benign Providence
22
337 
DEAF AND BLIND,
have sent this privation, to produce as it did, so
deeply and extensively, the interest needed to be
felt in her and her fellow-sufferers, in order to lead to
prompt and effectual action on their behalf."    ~ 
"The same Providence cast my happy lot in this
community, near to this father and daughter, herself a playmate of my younger brothers and sisters.
which led to my acquaintance with her, and then to
my attempting her instruction. This I did from
time to time, inexperienced indeed, but with no little
enthusiasm and zealous perseverance. At length, I
had the privilege of being employed to carry into
effect the benevolent designs of mny fellow-citizens;
designs, extending as they have already done, in the
establishment of many kindred Institutions in various parts of our country. See in these successive
links of Providence how God works out the chain
of his beneficent movements."
When  first the name of Gallaudet reached my
ear, he was a pupil under the Abb6 Sicard, at Paris,
who was then teaching the highest class of deaf
mutes in that city. When he returned to his native
land, he succeeded in bringing with him Mr. Laurent Clere, another 61eeve of the French Institution,
and in a brief space they were both actively engaged
in Hartford, where "The American Asylum" sprung
i
I
i
i
i
i
338
i
i
I
i
i
i
I
i
i
i
i 
DEAF AND BLIND.
up. It is the offspring of Christian benevolence,
and from it has sprung an extensive family.
An interesting and striking festival was held on
Sept. 267 1850, in the Hartford Asylum, where it is
believed mnore persons enduring the same sad privation met, than were ever before assembled together
since the world began.
Mr. Brown of New Hampshire, an early and intelligent pupil of the Asylum, stated, in his graphic
language of signs, that his spirit could find no rest
till he had devised some method of giving expression to his gratitude, which the lapse of years served
only to increase. The idea was but suggested
when it was seized and made common property.  A
subscription was raised, for, as he stated, the wish
ran " like a prairie fire through the hearts of the
whole deaf-mute band," scattered though they were
all over the country. The plan was matured in
secret, and resulted in presenting to MM.  Gallaudet and Cler'e two massive silver pitchers, accompanied by salvers, inscribed and beautifully chased
with emblems.
On the festive day of presentation, upwards of
two hundred deaf mutes, not then connected with
the asylum, besides the two hundred inmates, were
present. Let us who can express our sentiments
I
II
II
I
339 
DEAF AND BLIND.
without impediment at any time, in any society,
imagine the glad recognition of old comrades, the
strong delight of having their language of signs intelligible to each other, the narrative of their recent history, the love, the gladness, and then we
shall perceive that the greetings of that day far surpassed those of any common assemblage of friends.
There were orations delivered in the language of
signs, which were interpreted in words to the rest
of the company. The extent and power of this
sign-language is surprising to the uninitiated, as I
saw and felt when in the New York Asylum, a
teacher told his class my country, and other things
without writing, and they immediately wrote on
their large slates what they knew of Scotland or
"Caledonia," as some of them called it.
Mr. Gallaudet left the institution in 1830, to
occupy the humane office of chaplain to the insane,
but he is justly deemed the Father of the " American Asylum," and of all those which have sprung
from it.  It was a sincere gratification to be introduced to this philanthropist whom I had known by
report, and honored so long, and to converse with
him in the society of my dear friend Mrs. Sigourney.  It was sweet to me  to take shelter in her
"' Dove's nests" and to rest under her fostering wing,
340 
DEAF AND BLIND.         341
acquaintance, and gatherenevolence and intelligence,
L adds to the interest long
funtry.
stitution for the Deaf and
in the house at dinner-time,
polite hospitality which I
a the United States, pressed
ri the dining-hall.  The pronbering about a dozen, were
we were placed; and there it
n of Mr. Gallaudet pursu-.
lercy.  He told me that his
n    of me, and thus a friendly
tablished between  us.  It
een glances of the two hunlutes who occupied the wing
1 make double use of one
bsence of another; and re
ements were all so quiet, as
hear, one might have expf knives and forks.  They
l, and had pleasant interheir quiet language of signs.
daughter of a missionary in
he pupils  It is pleasing to
Northern India among t
I__Ad., 
DEAF AND BLIND.
see the interest excited by the coildren of missionaries. They are pointed out to strangers in all institutions, but specially if the institution be one
connected with human  infirmity.   In the  Blind
Asylum at Philadelphia we were introduced to a
lively little girl connected with the Chinese Mission. Well does it become us who rest at home to
extend our sympathy to the offspring of our delegates, who in heathen lands, amid many hardships,
have this one added to their privations and deep anxieties, that they can neither enjoy the society of their
own dear children, nor superintend their mental and
religious training. Many a time have I seen such
children cherished in America, and been introduced
to them as subjects of peculiar interest.
In August, 1850, a convention of Teachers of
Deaf Mutes was held at their Institution in New
York. Instructors from seven similar Asylums met
there with Old Teachers and others interested in
discovering the best means of improving the mental
education, and the moral and social condition of
the Deaf.  The examination which is reported by
the Rev. Mr. Day seems to have been searching and
satisfactory, while the best results may be anticipated from the congregated wisdom and experience
of so many zealous and practical men.
I 
342 
DEAF AND BLIND.                 343
There is in the Hartford Institution an example
of an individual deprived of sight as well as hearing.
Julia Bliss is the child of poor parents. She lived
for several years in her father's house, without any
effort being made to instruct her.  It is wonderful
to hear how much her own sagacity had taught her.
She could wash and dress little brothers and sisters
and when, in her untrained impatience, she slapped
or shook any of them, as she could neither hear
their cries nor see their tears, she was used to feel
their eyes, and if she found them weeping, she would
take pains to soothe and comfort them.   She learnt
the use of money, it was not distinctly known how,
and if any was given to her she would hoard it till a
neighbor in whom she confided came within her
reach, when she would bring to her an object such
as she wanted (say a comb or string of beads), show
it, give her money, sign to her to go out and get it,
and then not rest till she got her fairly out of the
house. She was watchful about the clothing of her
sisters, and very jealous if she discovered that they
had new shoes or frocks, while she had old ones.
Naturally of a hot temper, without any door open by
which to reach her reason or conscience, she commonly managed to keep the family uncomfortable
till her wishes were acceded to. She was ultimately
I
I 
DEAF AND BLIND.
benevolent friend, and placed under
[ did not see her, but was informed
ot gained so much as she might have
been earlier trained.   She has one
strength, of which it is thought Laura
e r associate in misfortune, is nearly
lia discerns all persons and things by
hh seems of the character of that by
acks his master, or a hound his prey.
takes a friend, and one of her regular
the Institution, is what may somedifficulties to people with both eyes.
the clothes from the laundress, and
the clothes-room, never placing the
ne inmate in the pigeon-hole of an
as conceived of introducing the two
age, in sex, and in calamity, to each
seems no proper mode of communie established between them, and the
failure.  Laura Bridgeman at Boston,
istory of Julia Bliss, and her romanive mind was worked up to a passion
sympathy.   Julia had no language
could be told the history of Laura,
found herself suddenly embraced by a
oter
344
i and when she e
L i 
DEAF AND BLIND.
person she had never felt before, and bedewed by
tears, the cause of which she could not divine, she
exerted a most determined resistance, much to the
grief and surprise of poor Laura, whose heart, full
of love, was thrown roughly back upon herself.
We had an interview with Laura Bridgeman at
the noble Blind Asylum of Boston. Her first question was, " Have you seen Doctor?" Dr. Howe,
being her first link to social life, is of course to her
the most interesting person in the world. A blind
friend by her side, interpreted to us the hand-language
of Laura, who has a pretty figure, is pale, with fair
hair, neatly braided by herself, and small green
shades which entirely cover the sockets once occupied by her blue eyes.  Her features are animated,
and her face full of sensibility. She replied sensibly to various questions, and when she was told that
one of the ladies was from Scotland, she made several remarks about that country, and observed that
she must have crossed 3,000 miles of ocean to come
to Boston. She suddenly, without apparent explanation, made her way from behind a little table, flew
across the wide hall like a bird, and must have ascended the lofty staircase with as rapid and as sure
a foot as the possession of all her senses could have
bestowed, for she returned in a moment. She had
I
345 
DEAF AND BLIND.
brought her little merchandise of watchguards woven
by herself. We purchased and paid into her own
delicate hand. One lady gave her a gold dollar. It
was a new coin, so she had not had one before. She
touched it with her tongue, carefully fingered the
figures on the surface, then ran her nail round the
notched edge, and said on the hand of her friend,
"California."   I paid her in five or six coins to
make up one dollar. She fingered and counted them
till she was satisfied it was right, being acquainted
with the feeling and the value of half and quarter
dollars, of dimes and shillings. One could not help
feeling a little solicitude lest, among the few ideas
which can find access to her secluded mind, that
which may tend to covetousness should furnish too
large a share. We were told, however, that her
mother is poor, and it is for her that she exercises her
industry. She inquired with curiosity whether we
had chosen blue or puce color.  When  told that
mine was to go to Scotland to be given to the physician from whom I had brought a book for Dr. Howe,
she expressed great delight, smiling very pleasantly.
We were told, but not in the Institution, that Dr.
H. had been greatly annoyed, after an absence, to
find that a visitor had told her of the "Lamb of
God, that taketh away the sin of the world." He
346 
DEAF AND BLIND.
avoids imagery, or anything like complex figures in
his instructions, and she did not know what to make
of this new figure. It must indeed be very difficult
to tread in his steps as her instructor, yet one feels
a strong sympathy with the kind friend who wished
to lead her to a knowledge of the atonement.
We heard with a little surprise, that the amiable
wife of Mr. Gallaudet, the benefactor of the deaf, is
herself a mute. So the animated, intellectual young
man, whom we met in the New York Institution,
never was sung to sleep by the voice of his Mother.
I was much more surprised to learn that upwards
of a hundred pupils of the Hartford Asylum are
married, the greater part among themselves, though
some have partners who can hear and speak. The
fear which we might naturally entertain with respect
to their offspring, has been, by a gracious Providence, disappointed.' With a few exceptions, they
are blessed with children enjoying all their faculties,
which will be a great consolation to them in old
age." The men are freemen, and have votes.
The reader may now be better prepared, as I am,
to enter into the sentiment of the American poetess,
when with her usual feeling and delicacy she describes
I
347 
DEAF AND BLIND.
THE MARRIAGE OF THE DEAF AND DUMB.
"No word! no sound!  But yet a solemn rite
Is consummated in you festive hall.
Hearts are in treaty, and the soul doth take
That oath which, unabsolved, must stand, till death
With icy seal, doth stamp the scroll of life.
No word! no sound! But still a holy man,
With strong and graceful gesture, doth impose
The irrevocable vow, and with meek prayer
Present it to be registered in Heaven.
Methinks the silence heavily doth brood
Upon the spirit.-Say, thou flower-crowned bride,
What means the sigh which from that ruby lip
Doth'scape, as if to seek some element
Which angels breathe?
Mute-mute-'tis passing strangeLike necromancy all-and yet,'tis well;
For the deep trust with which a maiden casts
Her all of earth, perchance her all of heaven,
Into a mortal's hand-the confidence
With which she turns in every thought to himHer more than brother, and her next to God,
Hath never yet been shadowed forth in sound,
Or told ill language.
So, ye voiceless pair,
Pass on in hope. For ye may build as firm
Your silent altar in each other's hearts,
And catch the sunshine through the clouds of time,
As cheerily as though the pomp of speech
Did herald forth the deed. And when you dwell
Where flowers fade not, and death no treasured link
348 
DEAF AND BLIND.
Hath power to sever more, ye need not mourn
The ear sequestrate, and the tuneless tongue,
For there the eternal dialect of love
Is the free breath of every happy soul."
Poetical Works, p. 257.           MRs. L. H. SIGOURNEY.
It is of great value to the subjects of instruction,
that what they are taught of Christianity, is in general sound and heartfelt; and very touching to observe that the prominent felicity of heaven dwelt on
by the pupils in letters and compositions is, that
their ears shall be there unstopped and their tongues
loosed,
I
I
i
1
I
349 
SCr)   t  W     I     e
" Yes, there are some who sorrow's vigils keep,
Unknown that languish, undistinguished weep."
THERE is poverty everywhere in the world.  In
the United States there is enough of it, but it is
emigrant poverty, or poverty among the depressed
colored race.  One heard marvels about the coinfortable condition of the native people.   In one
small town in New England, a society of ladies, who
met for devotional purposes, agreed to form a fund
for the help of the poor. Having raised their
means they began to look about for their objects,
but they were nowhere to be found, or only found
in the persons of one colored family. After the
humane ladies had new-rigged all the children. and
got them  roused and sent to school, they added
various comforts in the way of furniture, then they
sent one iman to repair the dripping roof, another
to fill up the boards in the broken floor andtheir work was done! They were obliged to turn 
THE WIDOW.
the flow of their contributions into the wide bed of
the Home Mission, for they had no poor! The
gentleman who told me this was personally cognizant of it. It seems to realize the saying I have
heard in my childhood, that there is but one beggar
in America, and he rides on horseback.  That New
England village must have been happy in the absence of inebriates, " of Gin Palaces," and intoxicating drinks, for where they are found it is in vain
that industry plies her diligence and the earth pours
forth her stores,-there will be poverty, misery, wickedness, and degradation in their vicinity.
I had sometimes wished to see some native poor
besides those to be found so comfortably provided
for in the institutions, and at last I was gratified.
It seems almost necessary to premise, that our visit
to widow R. was entirely unpremeditated on our
part, and unexpected on hers, otherwise an incident
or two which occurred, might wear the air of acting
in the poor woman, when it was not so. She was
lonely, borne down with grief, and nearly blinded
by tears with which no one sympathized.
We found, in a neat orderly room, a tall wasted
figure beside a very small table, on which lay ink
and paper, and two or three bright little books,
very like school prizes. She was dressed in rusty
351 
THIE WIDOW.
black, with a cap, whose former pretensions to smartness, made its faded black lace add to the desolate
appearance of the wearer.
She was writing when we entered, but on seeing
strangers she laid down her pen, took out a poor
muslin rag to wipe tears which were flowing fast,
and without taking heed at all to who her guests
might be, she began her lament, "I had one bright
spot in my gloom, but God has taken it away from
me.  My  dear R         is gone, and I don't know
where she is gone to," looking round the roof with
an indescribable vague expectancy, as if she might
learn from the ceiling where her daughter was.
"Don't you believe in a state of happiness for those
who love the Lord?"  "Oh yes, I was brought up
in true religion.   I am  a New  Englander;  my
parents taught me about the fall of man, and salvation by Jesus Christ, about the resurrection, and the
judgment, and I taught it all to my child. R
believed in all that, but I can't see her now. I
don't know where she is gone to."  "If she believed in Jesus you do know, and if she is with
Jesus where he is, you know she is happy."  "You
talk, but you never lost your one bright spot as I
have done."  "I have lost children, and have had
very bright spots darkened. It is not because I do
I
352 
THE WIDOW.
not feel for you that I speak, but because I know
that there is consolation for those who weep." My
companion hoping to turn the current of her thoughts
said, "Perhaps you have heard of Mary Lundie.
This is her mother."  " Is it?" hardly turning her
streaming eyes to me.   "I have read her life many
a time, and sold hundreds of it here in the streets
of New York."  " You sold books! how was that?"
"I was born to affluence.   I married and lived well
with my husband, but somehow he died, and left me
four children and not a dollar. I could work with
my head, but not with my hands, so I wrote political articles, and tales for magazines. I wrote whatever I could get paid for, till neuralgic pains put
me almost distracted, and the doctor said if I went
on writing I should go out of my head."  "And
what did you do then?"   " Then my R            had
learnt to embroider, and I sold her work, and Mr.
C - let me have books, and I hawked themn from
house to house, and at last, when I could not pay
my rent, God sent a good spirit to help me. I never
saw him, but he has paid my rent for years." " Do
you not know that this lady is the wife of your good
spirit?"  "Is she?" looking slightly round.  "No, I
did not, but now she never sits on that chair at her
work and talks to me, nor even lies on that bed sick.
I
I
I
i
353
Lo
23 
THiE WIDOW.
She is gone, my bright spot, and I don't know where
she is gone to," again searching the ceiling with her
restless and misty eye.
Poor thing, she had employed herself in patching
a pretty cushion of bits of silk during the long
nights, while she watched her sick child, " to keep
her poor eyes open," as she said, and was ministered
to by two young ladies, real sisters of charity, without the garb and badge, and without the vow.
At last consumption, which annually nips its hundreds of the budding and blossoming, finished its
work, and the widow's " one bright spot" was darkened.  R       died in her lonely arms, which clasped
her an hour and a half before the poor mourner
could admit the belief that she was dead; and in
the morning, when the two friends came to visit her,
they attended to the last claims of the departed, and
left the mourner alone with her sorrow. She told
us she sat alone two nights by the shell of her child,
and persuaded herself when she perused her countenance at four in the morning, that she had again
become rosy. Indeed her monomania turned on the
idea that she had not died, but that her spirit had
just slipt away, and she didn't know where it had
gone to. Her eye invariably wandered vaguely upwards, and her voice fell into the same plaintive ca
I
I
I
I
i
354 
THE WIDOW.            355
dence when this afflicting thought returned in its
force.  She read to us some rather poetical verses,
which she called a a voice from the Spirits' land," in
which the daughter addresses the mourner, "' Weep
not for me, mother, weep not for me," and describes
her present state of perfect happiness as the reason.
"Who told you all those sweet things, Mrs. R.?"
" My dear R.  She just came and stood by me
there, and dictated it all."  "Well, then, you do know
where she is, for she says she is in heaven, with angels and saints, and in the presence of her Saviour.
So you do know."  Poor woman, she was caught by
her own showing, and put to silence.  Yet in a few
minutes her beamluless eye sought the roof, and she
was repeating, "I don't know where she is gone to."
I have read poetical descriptions of similar hallucinations, but never met with such before.
When we had arisen to depart, after a long visit,
she said some old friends had forsaken her, because
of a report that she encouraged the Romanaists to
come about her, but she never did.  She could not
protect herself from theml.   Sisters of Mercy had
comne, and after them a lady, who gave her name,
and forced a book upon her poor girl, who would
have avoided them, and was disturbed in mind by
their talk. At last, one day, she desired this lady
I
I
I
I
I
I
i
I
i 
THE WIDOW.
to go and not come again. A'considerable time
after she had shut the door, she was surprised to
find her still lingering on the stair, and asked her
why she stayed. She prolonged talk, and still
seemed to have more and more to say, and by and
bye the secret reason for her stay was explained.
She had made an appointment with the priest, who
joined them on the staircase, and offered to see the
sick.  The mother " honored his zeal," but politely
declined. That proposal failing, he had another.
He knew of a medicine that he was sure would cure
the invalid.  She had a regular medical attendant,
and did not require to trouble his reverence. Ah,
but he was so sure of the efficacy of his medicine, if
he might just go into the room, and write the prescription. The mother said. if he was so sure, he
might write it on the fly-leaf of the lady's book.
This he did, and the lady undertook to procure and
pay for it. It was to cost half-a-dollar. Again the
priest tried to enter the sick-room, and he and the
lady said, if the girl died without extreme unction,
she would burn in hell-fire forever, with all heretics.
It was striking to mark, as indignation took the
place of woe in the widow's heart, how her attenuated
and bending form, returned to its natural height;
how her voice rose, and her eyes brightened even in
356 
THE WIDOW.
relating their conversatien. The dignity of becoming indignation suddenly kindled her whole frame,
and you could scarcely identify the drooping creature, dying under the misery of eating grief, who
had but just risen from the side of her writing table.
' I am  P     rotestant," she said, "I don't believe
in what you say, and my daughter does not wish for
your services."  "Then I won't get her this medicine that would cure her."  "I would not give her
anything you prescribe till I saw it analyzed. If I
ever wish for you I will send for the present, go
away."  "Then  I will call again to-morrow," said
the pertinacious persecutor.   "You need  not-I
will not admit you;" and so, at last, the pair departed, having done what they could, in their view,
to save the dying girl from eternal misery.
How unprotected are the poor from these bold
impostors-and how unprotected are the rich from
the mnore insidious and ensnaring measures which
they adopt in their advances to them. Their perseverance in trying to compass one dying proselyte,
is a rebuke to the more supine plans of Protestants. Yet this is the sect against which Protestant
America can see no cause to be on its guard.  The
planters of which are artists, musicians, teachers,
domestics, Sisters of Charity, politicians, who un
357 
THE WIDOW.
weariedly put in their seed and leave it to grow
while we are asleep in erroneous security.
At last, then, I had seen a really poor native.
But it was not squalid-it was respectable poverty
— and in the woe of a wandering mind, independence and gratitude were visible. She uttered no
thanks to the "good spirit" who paid her rent-but
she sent the silken pillow which she sewed by the
couch of her dying child, as a gift to the "'good
spirit's" wife.
We went a few days after to try to procure her a
room in the Home for decayed gentlewomen. But
we failed at that time, though very desirous to break
up the tribe of associations with that chamber and
that bed, and to place the mourner within reach of
a little society, if by any means the sorrow which
preys on her spirit might be diverted.
The proper name of the Institution I allude to,
has escaped me, and that is not to be regretted as
of the numerous houses' we visited, whether they
were philanthropic, educational, or established for
purposes of State, this was the solitary instance in
which the doors were not cordially thrown open,
the economy of the place described, and reports
offered. Perhaps the Matron was new and unaccustomed to her office-or perhaps the person
358 
THE WIDOW.
who repulsed us was a bad substitute for the
Matron. However it was, it gives me great pleasure to think of the hearty reception afforded to
me, a stranger without a claim, in every place with
the exception of this.
We were told the number of inmates was made
up at the moment —and poor Mrs. R          was left
still to imagine she held conferences with R
though she "knew not where she was gone to,"
i
359 
,X   e arig   C1uutrq  Vistrirto.
TRAVELLERS who  pass through Virginia  and
Maryland tell of broken fences, unproductive fields,
crumbling mills and dwellings, and the most unsightly and melancholy of all ruins-those of wooden
houses. It is not easy to describe or to account for
the very disagreeable impression produced by framehouse ruins. In an ancient stone wall, the fallen
part makes an irregular mound on which vines and
mosses grow, while that which stands has a degree
of picturesque beauty in its decay. But if the ruins
be that of an edifice of wood, though it were but recently smart with its correct angles and bright paint,
it is ugly in decay, having none of the dignity of
agedness about it. You may find one long line of
planks prone on the ground, another warped and
bending here out, there in, with ragged and broken
boards projecting, while the roof with its forked
rafters is hanging to the standing wall and seems to
long to drag it down to that which is already pros
I 
VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
trate.  Mosses, lichens, mould, nettles, toad-stoolsall horrid things which a witch might cull to seethe
in her caldron, are springing up around. The desolate appearance of the place is painful, as you feel a
persuasion that the quondam inhabitants also are in
a state of decay. On those estates where human ingenuity lies prostrate at the feet of cupidity, where
man does the work of the ox and the ass, and where
generation after generation, the spade and the hoe
have without variation worked the same earth, the
fertile land is turned into barrenness. It becomes so
unproductive as not to pay the labor, and is gradually left to fall out of cultivation and its buildings
to drop to decay.
"What  a mouldy appearance all the country we
traversed this week has," I heard a lady say inquiringly, after her return from the South. A free
thinker could have explained the cause of the mould,
but it would not have been well taken to act the
part of a free speaker. For to confess truth, brother Jonathan is not so free as he would like to think
himself.  It is marvellous to see him at the North,
smother his aspirations and whisper his thoughts in
subjection to the South.  It is marvellous to see
men who have rid themselves of dishonest gains and
dishonoring institutions, submit to be made man
361 
862   VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
hunters and slave-catchers in their own free homes.
It is marvellous to hear a man say he would suffer
the penalty of the law, rather than obey the summons that the magistrate is entitled to give him to
join in the human chase; but yet he will not dare
to lift his voice against that law.   He places himself in the attitude of the sufferer, and will bear fine
and imprisonment rather than obey a law which oppresses his conscience. Is he in truth, and honestly,
a martyr to.conscience here? Would he be encroaching on the freedom of a neighbor State were
he to lift up his voice against wrong? Or would
he not rather be obeying the Seripture rule: "Thou
shalt in any wise rebuke thy neighbor and not suffer
sin upon him," or "That  thou bear no  sin for
him."
Let us turn from this desolate landscape, and
gladly survey a new scene which begins to open
there.  Here are some repaired houses and fields
again fertile, but with other crops than those they
formerly bore.  These are the smiliig fruits of labor stimulated by proprietorship.   Look  at that
hearty New England. farmer and his cheerful family
recently settled there.  See the soil turned with the
plough instead of the hoe, its furrows reaching to a
depth untried at least for a century. Look at its
I
I
I
I
i
I
I 
VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
luxurious productions of fruits, vegetables, and grain.
Observe that field covered with clover which will be
ploughed in presently and left to manure the ground
where it grew. Watch the waving crops, and inspect
the early vegetables, which borne by steam to northern markets, will bring a rich return to the laborer.
He has) by favor of climate, produced them six
weeks sooner than they can be grown at New York,
and two months earlier than at Boston. Will not
such proof of the capabilities of a soil in the hand
of free labor enlighten the minds of those who have
worn it out and forsaken it, under the cultivation
of the slave?  Will not Virginia look to her mountain districts held by free men, and compare or contrast them with her lowlands? Surely the time is
hastening-when the children of the free shall hail another and another State freed from that yoke; a yoke
that hangs on the neck of the slaveholder, and keeps
his mind and conscience in bondage. Nay, it induces him to lay bonds on the necks of his free neighbors. When all things are fairly weighed, it appears that the slaveholder is as little really a freeman as is the slave.  His system violates the eternral principles of justice, and consequently he dare
not suffer the vicinity of the free negro, however
just his claimn to be there, or however it might ad
I
363 
364      VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
vantage himself Such an exhibition of liberty
might spoil his gang.  He dare not admit the instructor, lest the aurora of knowledge dawning afar
should infuse into his gang some idea of a life above
that of the passive brute. IIHe dare not indulge even
one favorite and promising colored man with education, lest his skill and knowledge should make the
others discontented. The freedom of the press cannot exist where he is. Rome is not more exact in
her expurgated lists of books and newspapers than
is the legislature in a slave State. Nay, he must
lord it over free States, that he may the more easily keep his own in bondage. Is he then a freeman,
or is he not rather the slave of a most evil and unhappy system?
Should a young lady from a free State, without
sufficient knowledge of how matters stand, become
the wife of a Southerner, she, poor inexperienced
child, if she carry conscience and humanity with her,
may be alarmed to find herself called upon to exercise the offices and wisdom of age, being looked up
to by a band of people utterly unused to confide in
themselves and each other. Though a colored nurse
watch by the bed of the sick domestic slave, the
lady must drop the medicine. She must look upon
the time-piece for the moment to administer it.
I 
VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
She, though at midnight or early morning hours,
may be awakened to give the potion. She must not
only provide clothes for her numerous family, which
has no provident habit because it is untrusted, but
she may find it necessary to shape them, and fix
the seams for the overgrown children who can with
needle and thread be taught to fasten them together.
Is she free? I speak not of her moral, but of her
mere physical condition.   Does she not discover
that she has married into bondage? Some of the
most elegant, refined, intelligent, princess-like women
that I have met with in the United States, were
such.  They have learnt to be waited upon, to have
their slightest wish attended to, and withal, because
they, with woman's nature, are pitiful to the sick
and feeble, they have exercised much benevolence.
They have, mayhap, endured much in being aware
of cruelties which they had not power to mitigate.
All this has refined their characters-still they are
not Cornelias and Portias, fit mothers for the sons
of a republic; they are refined into amiable despots,
and fit mothers for the owners of slaves.
But the mouldering farms of Virginia have betrayed me into the subject which it is so unavailing
for me to touch, though it never fails to oppress my
heart, and I must resume my journey.
I
365 
366    VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
The railway which runs between Albany and Buffalo, though it passes many cities that were already
made rich by possessing means of carriage on
the great canal, establishes new centres of traffic,
as well as greatly enhances the wealth of the old
ones. Yet in sonime parts the country is but newly
opened. The engineer goes forth in search of levels,
not of fertility or beauty. And thus he has crashed
his way through many a swamp inhabited by doleful
creatures, and many a forest, untrodden since the
Indian hunter has faded away before the white man.
We were told that we should have found plains
and valleys smiling under the influence of skilful industry, if we had travelled by the high road. Yet
it is only fifty years since that road was slowly
piercing its way through regions as unaccustomed to
man as those more recently penetrated by the iron
path. In far less than fifty years more, those unsightly and tangled underwoods, those undrained
marshes, and those dreary girdled trees and black
stumps, will disappear from the track of the railway-and smoother fields, and comfortable dwellings,
and zigzag fences take their place. These fences are
the reverse of pleasing objects in the landscape; yet
in a country where the quantity of wood to be cleared
away forms the difficulty, it is a wiser plan to use 
VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
the dead wood in forming divisions, than it would be
to plant other shrubs and trees for fences. The
English eye, accustomed to polished fields cultivated
for centuries, chequered with beautiful hedgerows,
finds this part of the country very rough, and in
every part misses the hawthorn.   But the circumstances are so different as to render comparison unreasonable. One is inclined to take up the prophetic
strain of which the American is accused, and say
what this district will presently become, when we see
what it is even already in its difficult and rugged
progress. Here you see a brick-field, with two or
three cottages near it. A little farther on a forge,
and by-and-bye a carpenter's shop, and, in a position
accessible to them all, though by deep and difficult
footpaths, a store partaking the character of the
village shop of Seotland, known by the familiar name
of, "Willie a' things."  Everything you can want in
a rough way is to be had there, fromn cheese, ham,
needles, nails, tea, hammers, sugar and grindstones,
down to spelling-books, butter, and Bibles, as I have
seen" Willie's" list of wares made out.
Who that has travelled through the cultivated
parts of New York or New Jersey, or that has
stood on the summit of Mount Holyoke and surveyed the windings of the Connecticut river, through
I
367 
368      VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
a valley equal in fertility and agricultural excellence to the lands that are intertwined with the
links of Forth, can fail to see that timne only is
wanting to bring the whole of the country into the
finest bearing condition.   The climb  to Mount
Holyoke, though toilsome, is richly rewarded by
the view obtained. You can trace the limits of
snug farms, and see their regularly laid out ridges
which could not be surpassed for accuracy of line
in a Northumberland or Roxburghshire ploughingmatch,-you can count their convenient farm-houses
and onsteads, for miles, till the eye is weary, and
rest it on the pretty spires among the trees that
look so like Old  England.   Everything  in the
Connecticut valley is rich and regular. The land
is peopled up to its capabilities, and if the sharp
frosts and scorching suns would suffer the quickset
hedge to grow, and that feature were added to the
landscape, it would be exactly like home.   We
must, however, always except the giant style of
everything American.   The  Forth with  all its
lovely links, even though a tide-river, lies but like
a silver thread in the landscape, compared to the
Connecticut.   The  latter  river has proved  the
weight of its waters, by cutting its way through the
neck of a peninsula around which it had flowed for
ifi_ —_ _      _-_
I
1 
VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
centuries-so that at last it has possessed itself of
a picturesque islet in its bosom consisting of several
acres of the richest alluvial soil which centuries of
river-laving could deposit. The contrast between
this whole district and some parts of that between
Albany and Buffalo, is as complete as can be between the smooth-polished and productive and the
newly-possessed and wild.
For many miles the nor-western rail runs parallel
with the Mohawk River; the valley is narrow and
occasionally the rocks which hem it in, are precipitous and exhibit some rugged grandeur-but in no
place is it so narrow as to exclude its three remarkable features. First, the Old Mohawk, which has
had timle enough to cut its way through these rocks
since the waters of the deluge subsided. Second,
the canal-a  Herculean labor, which has united
Lake Erie with the Hudson River for many a year,
and carried many a white boat laden with produce
down to the river's margin. And last, the iron way,
which in that part has been put down with little
trouble of blasting rocks or raising levels. One
skims over scores of miles without a tunnel, and
with only here and there a bridge over some mountain torrent that is skipping its way down to join
the waters at the bottom of the valley.
24
369 
370      VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
The progress of the canal-boats, after they join
the Hudson, has been much accelerated by the use
of steam-tugs. Instead of tacking about and creeping down the great river, they make a steady undeviating progress, as many as half a score at a time.
The  persevering " Walk-on-the-Water" steamboat,
like the hen in the midst of her brood, plies her onward way. They may be many and cumbrous, but
she is the mother and must care for them all. They
cover half an acre of water, hooked on two or three
deep on each side, and dropping far behind. Many
of the boats with three tiers or galleries of various
merchandise, including live stock, while the central
mover of themn all has her freight of goods also,
and the human beings who tend their several cargoes.
There is not a finer prospect in the world, either
in a picturesque or soical point of view, than that to
be obtained from the heights of Mount  Hope, in
the beautiful district which bears the name of Hyde
Park, so familiar to the English ear. The trees there
have all the magnificence of ancient forest denizens
-a grandeur which is not to be found in the crowded and tangled wilder forest. The swells of earth,
the abrupt precipices, the Catskill mountains blue
and bounding the distant horizon, are all striking. 
VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
Then the Hudson, appearing in long reaches, hiding
itself behind the noble banks and again coming
forth in its changeless majesty-onward-onward;
seeming to have but one object in its persistent
flow —namely, to reach the ocean —yet all the while
ministering to industry, to fertility, and to commerce.
There is a charm never to be forgotten, found on
those lovely heights, fanned by the airs and scented
by the roses of June, while the eye ranges from the
grand to the lovely,-from the beautiful to the useful, —from the still life to the active. The lofty
trees waving their proud branches to the breeze, and
the graceful small sail-boats darting about like seafowl at play on the sparkling wavelets, contrast
finely with the business-like progress of many laden
barques, the gay passenger steamers, and the matronly looking mother-boat with all her chickens around
her.
What a beautiful world has been given to us to
dwell in —beautiful still, in spite of its moral deformities.
But I must return to the journey on the railway,
towards Buffalo.
We paused at Herkimer, and there, for the first
time, saw an Indian woman in the costume of her
371 
372    VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
tribe. She was an Oneida, equipped in dark blue
cloth petticoat and moccasins, a blanket, fastened
with a kind of skewer, where the Highland brooch
would have been used by our mountaineers. Her
massy hair, black, till towards its roots it assumed
a tinge of blue, braided and fixed up with a bunch
of red worsted strings, was the only covering of her
head. At the first glance one might have thought
her at least fifty, as she hung on the platform of the
railway, stretching out her naked, skinny arm, with
a small store of Indian purses, needle-books, and
pin-cushions for sale. She dropped into the inn
after us, and by-and-bye we found her standing,-tall,
erect, and still as death, behind the door of the public room, with her long dark arm and her wares extended as before.  Her long: yellow teeth, standing
like stakes in an ill filled-up fence, made one think
of dried heads of New Zealanders, and other unpleasant specimens of the human form in savage life
that we have seen in the museums of the civilized.
After subduing something in my breast that might
be a mixture of timidity and repugnance, I ventured to speak to the dismal ghost, and found her
willing to communicate, as far as her command of
my language, which was not very extensive, enabled
her. When her features relaxed a very little as she
I 
VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
spoke, twenty years, at least, seemed taken from her
age. She told me with a heavy sigh, that her people were once numerous, their hunters fleet, and their
warriors brave. But they were now weak and few,
and they had yielded to the white man their hunting-grounds, and gone far west. I suggested that
they had room to hunt where they were settled, if
they did not find it best to plant corn, and live in
houses, and adopt the habits of the whites. She
said they had adopted them, and now have corn, and
pumpkins, and horses, and ploughs, and sheep. She
said a few, about 200, still lingered here, and had a
village not far off, though the mass of the tribe are
gone to the west, and that here they have a minister,
and schoolmaster? and can read and write. She also
showed that her people have adopted the Christian
creed, and that she was tolerably well-informed in
the outline of Christianity.  While I spoke to her,
she had sat down close by me, but as soon as she
perceived that our curiosity was satisfied, she slipped
away with a noiseless step.
I saw in and beyond that district, many Indians,
chiefly Tuscaroras, but none were equipped so fully
in the ancient manner. This one adopted it, I suppose, as a flourishing sign-board is used, to attract
custom.  Some who were travelling by rail near the
I
373 
374      VARIOUS COUNTRY D)ISTRICTS.
beautiful village of Canandaigua, were dressed like
other people, except that their clothing seemed more
voluminous and clumsy.   Some that we saw making
purchases in the stores at the Niagara village, had
caps without bonnets, and very long blue cloth
cloaks.  They are so like our Scotch border gypsies,
who make horn spoons and sell crockery, that I felt
as if I might have hailed Will Fa' or Tibby Douglas, in our endeavors to educate whose wild-cat looking offspring, we at one time expended some energy.
Who can say if they are not of the same stock of
the human fanlily? The style of figure, the hair,
eyes, and skin, give indication of relationship, while
those, who like Simon in America, and Borrow in
England. have penetrated into those rites and habits
about which they are reserved with strangers, think
they can trace ceremonies originating in the ceremonial law of Moses, and indications that they must
both have descended from some one of the lost tribes
of Israel.  Who  can solve these mysteries till the
great day of revealing shall come?
The poor Indian! He shares the fate too common to the aborigines.  As the civilized settler increases, he decreases. Many a deed of blood have
their wrongs wrought them up to, and many a time
have they been made the ignorant and savage tools
-      -                       -.-..                                                                I ". I -   I.    -.                                                              31,
1, 
VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
of the wars of those civilized foes who ought to have
known better. But now they are waning awayand wide as their continent is, and unpeopled as are
millions of its acres, the time may yet come when
the encroaching white man may wish again to remove them, or to limit the territory in which they
are now located.
Yet even in their reduced state, when they come
to treat with Congress, they go through their ancient
ceremonial of the council fire, the calumet, &c., and
assume the dignified tone and figurative speech of
their ancestors. I heard of a chief quite lately,
whose presence at Washington, within the door of
the hall of Congress, was indicated to the chairman.
He stood leaning against the door-post as if not
quite sure of his place and reception, but on receiving a courteous message from his "Great Father,"
inviting him to take a seat, he cast himself upon the
floor, saying, "I will embrace the bosom of my
Mother earth."
Times are changed with them  now, compared
to their condition even a quarter of a century ago,
fallen as they then were. My respected friend, Dr.
Sprague, with whom I gladly renewed my acquaintance at Albany, told me that twenty-five years since,
as he travelled with two ladies on the way to Ni
I
375 
376    VARIOUS COUNTRY DISTRICTS.
agara, a large powerful Indian hailed their carriage
and ordered him to carry his pack for him to Buffalo.
He tried to escape from this burden, suggesting
various difficulties, all of which the Indian put aside,
reiterating his order, which, in view of the Indian's
fowling-piece, was finally obeyed, we may guess with
what emotions of satisfaction. The man kept pace
with, and sometimes got ahead of the carriage, so as
to find time to stop and inspire himself with a fresh
dose of fire-water by the way. At the end of the
journey he stood ready to recover his goods, which
he did with small indication of thanks.
Buffalo has been waxing, while Indians have been
waning. The solitary inn where Dr. Sprague got
rid of his imposed burden and dangerous fellowtraveller, is now lost amid a crowd of smart hotels,
churches, banks, docks, and every appliance that
commerce requires. While the Lake which used to
form the barrier to further progress, is thronged
by huge steamers three stories high, which are
crowded with emigrants, and their goods, merchants,
and their merchandize, and with all the produce of
the country. 
THE railway runs through the streets of many
cities in the United States, it being always taken
for granted, that the lieges can take care of themselves. In Germany the Grand Dukes treat their
subjects like infants, and keep them locked within
palings till the train is ready to start, lest they
should hurt themselves. In England various officers are at hand to warn you off the rails and
guide your erring feet, and yet ever and anon one
hears of accident. In America a printed placard
at all the crossings tells you, " Look out for the
locomotive when the bell rings," and leaves you to
be your own guardian, and that kind of care answers
the purpose as well.
The superior comfort of an American railway
carriage will hardly be believed by persons whose
dignity or respectability demand  first, second, and
third class carriages.  Nevertheless, it is perfectly
true. Their construction with a passage down the
Lifi_
I
I
xtlaItImSago. 
j. 
378  RMLWAY~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
centre of each carriage, which is long enough to contain twenty-five or thirty persons on each side, enables the conductor to pass up and down. They are
so made that he or passengers can pass from one
carriage to another while the train is in motion. A
cord also passes along their roofs, attached to a bell,
which will sumnmon him from whatever car he may
be in. Thus no unpleasant circumstance need be
endured for a moment.   It would be impossible for
a gentleman to get himself pommelled by a flighty
man waking and faneying that his single fellowtraveller wished to mesmerize him, as lately happened in one of our first class carriages. In his
case there was no remedy; he must either fight or
be beaten black and blue till they reached a station.
If he had had fifty companions and the bell-rope to
boot he would have been perfectly safe.
But say they who are accustomed to the strict
social subdivisions of old monarchies, how do you do
with the workmen, and the serving damsels, and all
the class of people that you don't associate with in
the house? Why we do very well. That is the
curiosity of it. Politeness, if it do not soar to the
height of refinement that it does in courts, never
sinks down to rudeness or brutality in the United
States.   Everybody  understands  that everybody
I
378
RAILWAYS.
0 
RAILWAYS.
has rights.  The "great" are more careful not to
offend the "little," so that I never once heard a
haughty word  to an inferior;  and the  "little,"
knowing that they are in no danger of being encroached on by the "great," in their turn commit
no unpleasant encroachment. People fall naturally
into a classified state, so that a whole car may
readily be filled with mechanics and their peers.
Should two or three refined people enter it, they
will find nothing to offend them. And I have
travelled for hours near a knot of workmen, or an
Irishwoman with her bundle, or a mechanic's wife
with her baby, and felt interested in observing the
propriety of their manners.   I just once saw a train
stopt, and a man turned out to shift for himself on
a road deep with mire.  Not because he had misbehaved, for he sat as dull, and heavy as strong
drink could make him, but because he had no
money to pay his fare. He did not seem to excite
the compassion of any one, and not a word above a
whisper, was uttered by the ejected man or the conductor.
In roads which have many branches, you receive
a check for each article of baggage. The baggagemaster, with a badge on his hat, passes through the
whole train frequently in course of the journey.
I
I
I
i
I
379
I 
RAILWAYS.
The traveller gives him his cheeks; and at the station where he is to stay, his baggage being prepared,
is popped on the platform as quickly as he can step
out himself, and the train is off again. In some
trains a telegraph youth enters and inquires,' Any
messages to New York? Any umbrellas or shawls
left at Baltimore? Will telegraph for you with
pleasure," and this he will do at the rate of eighteenpence, for what in England would cost half a guinea.
Boys with candies, fruits, ready-cracked butternuts, pop-corn, books, pamphlets, railway guides and
newspapers pass through the cars at all stopping
stations, but these have, I think, been voted a
nuisance to be abated.
A lady may travel thousands of miles, and be
sure of courtesy, from every one. I have found a
gentleman alight, and hand you out, and inquire
about your baggage, with whom your only previous
intercourse has been an inquiry if the next station
was that you wished to alight at. I heard a mother
say she got along better with her three children,
without her husband, than she should have done
with him, for when people saw she was alone, every
one helped her. That gentlemen purchased cakes
to feed the children, and amused them very kindly,
&C.
L              _____
380 
RAILWAYS.
The Conductor in passing through the carriages
collects the tickets, to avoid delay at the journey's
end. Hlow impatient is the traveller in England,
when, after a long day's journey, he sits within a
bow-shot of the platform, while the guard pops his
head into carriage after carriage with his " Tickets,
please," or " Please to show your ticket"-and how
impatient the friends waiting on the platform, who
look upon the carriages and cannot reach them. And
what a fever is he in who wants to proceed by the
next train, but by wasting the quarter of an hour
devoted to ticket-gathering, loses his transit. We
have all seen this occur in busy, " mail-accelerating"
England. It cannot occur in America.
The general cleanliness of the whole country is
not departed from in the travelling conveyances.
The comfortable appendage of the stove has not
introduced any appearance of smoke, and tile cushions, floors, and numerous windows are kept scrupulously neat. Every car has blinds for summer, and
a stove in the centre for cold weather. Each velvetcushioned seat has a movable back, so that four can
turn face to face, or you may, by turning the back,
be alone with one companion. Many cars have a
saloon at one end, where ladies retire to nurse their
babes, and where you may take a nap on a long sofa.
I
381 
382            RAILWAYS.
In such a dressing-room I had been kindlypacked
by my friends and had dropped asleep, when a change
in the noise made by the carriages awaked me. It
was         a pale, misty moonlight, past two, A.M.   I
roused myself to look out, and saw water expanded
as far as my eye could penetrate. Were we on the
shore  of the sea?  I went to the other side.  It
was water still not shoreless ocean, indeed, but
still we were in the midst of water. I had not
studied the map no one had told me that the rails
had been laid across two inlets of the Chesapeake
Bay, in preference to laying them round it. So
there I stood in mute surprise. These people are
like  the " Ancient Mariner," thought I
" Tramp, tramp across the land we go,
Splash, splash across the sea."
Presently, however, we had passed the open piles,
which sustain the rails, and leave the shallow tides
to ebb and flow amongst them at will, and were
again booming along on solid ground-and then I
went to sleep again, till roused to enter a huge
steamer which meets the rail at the mouth of the
Susquehanna-and a busy crossing was made of it.
From the dimly-lighted carriage we found ourselves transported into a floating hotel, where cooks
382
RAILWAYS. 
RAILWAYS. 383
were frying bacon and eggs, and steaks broiling and
sputtering, ladies pacifying sleepy children, and maids
running with smoking tea and coffee. In a few minutes it was changed, as in a dissolving view. Cooking,
eating, running about, had passed away, and we were
sweeping along the rails in the dull moonlight as
before, trying again to coax ourselves to sleep.
I
11   -                              -.                            -.  --        sb,_  __- m> a                                                                    =,   -,.              _            c,  -..-'s I" I
I' 
itt l  uutr.
WE frequently hear of colonies of settlers from
the same country who have congregated together,
and are long of acquiring the language and habits
of their new home. Welch, German, Swedish,
French, and Dutch, are to be found so united, and
lately Portuguese also.  The little band of Christians persecuted from Madeira by Popery fled from
dungeons and pelting with stones, first to the Island
of Trinidad, but not finding room there, they have
finally settled in the State of Illinois. Their native
tongue, in which they read the Bible and are addressed by their pastors, forms a strong bond of
union, which in the meantime deprives them of the
advantage to be derived from the rapid acquisition
of thle language which must ultimately become that
of their children. Yet difficult as the English language confessedly is, I have heard an unlettered
German speak it so well, that if he had not told me
so, I should not have suspected he had only left his 
A HILL COUNTRY.
native land eleven years since. With the Dutch
there is long a difficulty in mastering the th, and t,
which they pronounce as d,-this may be observed
even in their children.
We passed some very pleasant days in a settlement among the mountains, where Dutch customs
are still cherished by those whose hearts never knew
home-sickness, and who foster no secret longings
after the land of their forefathers. Amongst the
sires of these thriving families, we found aged people, whose eyes glistened when a pastor of our company addressed them in Dutch. But they had left
home in childhood, and time in its ceaseless and
busy flow had swept away the memories and broken
the ties which once were strong and deep; their
hearts and homes are now here among the Mohawk
mountains, and here they desire to resttheir remains.
They are a homely, honest people; industrious,
but, I should say, not laborious. The people of our
country, I conjecture, mingle more of the sweat of
their brow with their bread than these do.
We found them the same in manner in their own
farm-hou ses   that they were in the mansion, when
business called them there. It was a new sight to
us to observe the tenant stand covered in the saloon
of the landlord, amid a circle of ladies and gentle
23
I
385 
I
386         A HILL COUTRY
men, conversing with tranquil good sense and propriety, with no perceptible consciousness of any distinction of rank.
Self-possessed, quiet independence of manner,
seems common to all ranks. No one looks bold or
forward, for every one is doing what it becomes him
in his position to do. One never sees the supereilious stare of inquiry which seems to ask, "Who are
you?"  "Do you belong to our set?"  "Are you
one of us?" American deportment, between persons of different ranks, derives, from its republican
institutions, a healthy freedom, and at the same
time a wholesome restraint. There is no order of
things more calculated to give native character fair
play, and native dignity its due weight.
I never saw this exemplified nmore to my taste
than in the mistress of a large dairy in one of these
mountain farms. She was tall, thin, and rather delicate in appearance, yet she managed all the skilful
parts of the work with her own hands. We saw
many cheeses as large as those which now come to
England in wooden cases.  On wonder being expressed how she could manage such huge and heavy
cheeses, she put on her apron, and with as much
courtesy as a Countess might employ in showing her
cabinet or her hot-house, she went round the great
i
I
I
i
i
t
386
A HILL COUNTRY.
iI
i
i
I
iI
i
I
i
I
I
iI
i
II 
A HILL COUNTRY.
boiler and showed the machine which poured in the
milk to be heated. Then we saw that which drew
it off into the tub when hot, and also how it was
coagulated, and afterwards worked into curd and
pressed. She explained the process with precision
in very melodious and complaisant tones, closing her
exhibition in the cheese-room, with such grace and
good-will, that she would hardly accept our acknowledgments or expressions of gratification.  She was
happy to have been able to gratify us.  HIaving
finished her round, she folded her apron, laid it in
its place, and led us out with the air of an amiable
and obliging gentlewoman.
There was much "rural felicity" enjoyed in that
hill country, more pleasant in memory than capable
of being conveyed by description. One may tell
of the exploits performed in a long wagon, its bottom formed of loose planks, with a temporary frame
laid on to hedge in the travellers. The amlazing
quantity of light chairs it could contain according
to the number of sitters-with the children nestled
in the straw at our feet. But who can convey the
light-hearted merriment, the wit, the anecdote, and
specially the peals of laughter when jerks in the
road jumbled us all against each other. The diversion was indescribable, when one of the foreigners,
I
i
I
387 
388          A IHILL COUNTRY.
ill-informed as to the construction of the conveyance,
fancied, as she felt a loose plank occasionally rise and
fall, yielding to the inequalities of the  road, that a
great boa constrictor: or some such comfortable consociate, was nestled in the straw and about to awaken.
HIaving left the carriages of the city, and the
steamboats and railways of the low countries, we
seemed also to have left the dread of bumps and
bruises, and our city gravity behind us.
The object of one of these novel journeys was to
visit a farmer and his family a few miles off. We
found the house snug and comfortable, the rooms
opening into each other, and a large centre-stove
which did duty on both sides of the wall; having
the chief part of the cooking apparatus on the kitchen side, and one or two places where pans or dishes
might be placed on the side of the parlor. They
are a sober-minded, Christian people. The great
enjoyment of the large and blooming family in winter, is the practice of sacred music.   The father, a
man of a very beautiful countenance and good musical powers, teaches the young people and also leads
the singing in the rustic church.  After our arrival
in the evening, we had a meeting for prayer attended
by other fanilies within reach.  And then a teasuch a tea! for variety and ingenuity in cake-making, 
A HILL COUNTRY.          389
and " sass" as the Dutch call sweetmeats, and all
good things as one may never see again except in
the eye of memory. The table groaned under its
load, and it must be confessed that a lively party of
upwards of a dozen did their very best to relieve it
of its groans. Our talk was of markets, and stock,
and such country matters; of the minister whom
they longed to procure to occupy the place left vacant by one who had gone to a secular occupation to
find a richer pasture for his family. They reckoned
the district poor, and not able to sustain a minister;
though judging by the many comforts and the air
of plenty in all around us, it is probable the congregation needed some enlightenment on that subject. If
spiritual wants had come as keenly upon their minds,
as the necessities of the body do, they could have
found a way to make a minister as comfortable as
they are themselves. They are the sort of people
who don't much relish parting with money, but who
for all that, might come out very liberally on occasion of a " bee," and feel both pride and pleasure in
opening their hands lavishly when the gift is one of
their own devising. They were computing how
many dollars each family within range of their little
church might subscribe, and feeling painfully the
want of a Pastor.
I
II
i 
A HILL COUNTRY.
We  made our way on the Sabbath to the said
church, a member of our party officiating.  Some
walked  those who were most taken care of journeyed in a kind of large open chaise, and the rest
were seated on chairs in the customary wagon.
We found the small edifice on the summit of a knoll,
green sward all around it, and no path in particular
through the field or two nearest it.  It was neatly
painted and clean-looking according to the custom
of the country, and filled with thriving families who
did lift up the voice of praise with all their might.
They looked intelligently attentive, and were, I doubt
not, very glad to have their closed place of worship
opened once more.
There is a great difference between the aspect of
the citizen and the countryman.  In this fine airy
region, where the thermometer does not rise in the
height of summer to those prostrating fever heats to
which it does in the cities, the people have enough
of flesh on their bones, and roses on their cheeks,
and have an air of mental repose along with good
sense, good temper, and sufficient bodily activity.
In the cities, it is almost distressing to look on the
sharp thin faces traced too clearly with lines of care.
If you walk up streets down which the merchants
come at morning to their offices, you may meet a few
390 
A HILL COUNTRY.
easy loungers enjoying their cigars, but the chief
part are looking keenly before them  at-nothing.
Their eyes are wide open, but what they see is some
vessel due but not heard of; some venture to San
Francisco, the supercargo of which they begin to
suspect; some speculation to South Amnerica or
China about which they are anxious  some bill to be
protested; some bad debt to be pursued. Merchants
pay heavily for their wealth. It is not to be wondered at that a villa in the country should be the
great object in their distant vista.  Nor much to be
wondered at, that when it is gained, they have not
the habits which enable them to relish it entirely.
Such is life!  We pursue objects, and when gained
we find them but shadows.  We are ourselves shadows, and quickly shall have left our place to others.
When in the low country we much enjoyed the,
to us, novel sounds and sights of a warmi climate.
The fire-flies gleaming out on all sides during the
evening walk-now in thle grass and again at a small
height in the trees, about the bushes and among the
hay-eocks, the whole air seemed luminous with their
tiny, darting lights.  The frogs-the little nimble,
almost insect-like tree-frog and the large still waterfrog.
I remember the frog's pond of miny childhood, when
391 
A HIILL COUNTRY.
life and the season alike were in their spring, and
everything was a source of delight or wonder, but I
never heard tones so deep and ground-shaking as in
the ponds of Long Island and New Jersey. The katydids, too, were a perfect novelty. I never learned exactly of what species the mysterious disputants are,
and supposed them at first to be talking-birds.   I
have since been told they are insects, and the dispute
is carried on by the sound of their wings. The
legend is, however, that Katy is accused of breaking
the bottle, and the controversy about it begins at
dusk.    Katy-did," in a shrill tone-'" Katy-didn't,"
in bass.  "Katy-did"-" Katy-didn't."  Two such
pertinacious controve'sialists had their home in two
fine old trees in the front of a mansion, whose external beauties and internal hospitalities formed an enchanting retreat.  Often in daylight I tried to find
something in those trees that might be owner of
such power and pertinacity of voice, but without
success. They again proved their residence, however, by sunset, and all night long the discussion
endured. Be awake at what hour you might, they
were at it.  And one was ready to cry out,'No
matter whether she did, or she didn't, would you
but be quiet." I unfortunately never happened to
hear either the whip-poor-will or the nightingale,
I
I
392 
A HILL COUNTRY.
though both haunt those sunny glades and beautifully indented shores, so replete with all that charms
the senses.   They  have  also  the  hulmming-bird,
though I never met with one except under a glass
shade.
These were the beautiful and sylvan delights of
the lands nearer the sea-shore. But the mountain
region, with which I began my chapter, had in store
for us a scene grand, as well as beautiful, giving an
impression of a snow-storm, which left any experiences of heavy falls of snow in the Lanlmmermoors
far behind. When it rains in the States, it does
rain. and " no mistake."  No Scotch mist, or hesitating shower. And when " frost has turned the rain
to snow," it comes down in the same fashion-it is
quite in earnest.
We arose. under a beaming winter sun among the
hills of the Mohawk. But, as swift as sudden misfortune rolled the black clouds over the distant
mountains, gathered over our dwelling, and burst in
a whirlwind of flakes, which wrapped earth's green
bosom in her shroud in ten minutes. Between gusts,
when we could penetrate the hurtling air, it was
strange to see the whirling pillars, at small removes
from each other, which seemed to descend for many
feet, apart from each other, and reminded one of the
I
393 
A HILL COUNTRY.
deseription of dreary pillars of sand in the Arabian
Desert.  Then a fresh swell of the gale jumbled all
together again, and the thickness could not be penetrated beyond a few inches. After two or three
hours of this, the clouds rolled off, and we looked
forth on a wonder of tranquil, cold beauty. Every
tree, fence, and house in sight was clothed minutely
with a hard battered-on covering of snow on the
windward side, while the side unexposed to the blast
seemed quite unconscious of the storm. I thought
if half of this had happened in the slower, duller
snow-storms of my country, the shepherds, and all
the men around, folded in plaids, with straw ropes
about their legs, and hats or blue bonnets tied down,
would have been laboring to drive the "silly sheep"
to the windy side of the hill, to preserve them from
being buried up in snow-wreaths. And so it might
be, there and then. But every one took it so easily
that there seemed no alarm about it.
One of the richest sunsets I ever saw, except
amongst the Alps, succeeded this sudden bluster of
elements, when a wide expanse of lovely clouds, rosy
themselves, tinged every tree and hill-top in their
own beautiful dyes.
Next morning it seemed as if a necromancer must
have busied himself during our sleeping hours, in
394 
A HILL COUNTRY.                 395
unshrouding the extensive country within our view.
The snow was gone-and except a patch here and
there in a northern hollow, had left no sign.
When we descended to the valley of the Mohawk,
however, we found traces wide and decp, in the flowing waters which rushed down, not only in their
proper beds, but in what many a farmer must have
thought very improper ones. Fields were flooded
for miles. Houses which yesterday had solid roads
leading to them, were standing damp and dreary
islands in the waste. Clumps of trees were knee
deep in water. Here stood a patient cow in close
and unwonted company of a pair of wild colts.
There a lonely horse, holding up its limbs turnabout, on an islet of grass.  Men with carts were
trying their way to reach the hay-stacks, and boys,
more bravely, were sculling about broad, awkwardlooking boats, among the sheaves of Indian corn,
picking up the floating pumpkins-the only things
in the landscape, which with their large golden disks,
did not seem annoyed and discomforted.
The Mohawk itself poured down; that part of its
waters which made its way under the bridges threatening to bear them off in triumph on its buoyant
flood. The bridges are of wood, substantially built,
and many covered in, like those of Switzerland, but
I
I 
A HILL COUNTRY.
without the pictures of saints which adorn their
more ancient and popish prototypes.
The railroad held its way on a causeway, which
in various places is not high enough to escape being
overflowed.
Thus was swept off our hurricane of snow. Like
many a storm in the moral world-which is as dark
and disturbing-in two days, the subsiding waters
had carried it all away.
396 
AMERICANS tell ridiculous stories of tricks of li6berty that were played when the Republic was young,
which could not last after they settled down into
business-like sobriety, and can be only accounted
for on the supposition that brother Jonathan felt as
giddy as sailors do after a long voyage. Resembling a few merry fellows whom I saw on first treading the shore again at Holy Island advance up to
the town by a game of leap-frog —a school-boy prank
which they would soon get tired of.
A gentleman told me that he was leaning on the
rail of a piazza at Saratoga, when President Jefferson, I think, with the Countess of Westmoreland
leaning on his arm, was walking in the Saloon.
Two dizzy democrats offered a dollar to a dirty, ragged fellow if he would go in, say how do you do? and
shake hands with the President. The fellow being
desirous of the money, proposed to go wash and make
himself a little decent, but the idle wags said the
311anutroi auB Dattumu.. 
398         MANNERS  AND CUSTOMS.
dollar would only be forthcoming if he shook the
hand of the President with that same unwashed paw
of his.  My informant saw the dollar won.  Mr.
Jefferson, with perfect courtesy, turned aside for a
moment, returned the hail of his assailant pleasantly,
and quietly resumed his walk with the lady.
Such freaks are but the effervescence of success
and good spirits, and subside of themselves. It
was not unnatural that the 1 States" should, immediately after winning their independence, couple
taxation and vexations with royalty and titles, and
imagine unbounded freedom in knowing all men as
Tom, Dick, and Harry. It was happy that they
escaped all Utopianism with regard to Socialist levelling, and have been even more in danger of heroworship than the men of other countries.   No nation
more gratefully showers honors on its benefactors.
It does not give Dukedoms in reward of brave generalship, nor ribbons and stars in return for limbs
lost in the public service  but the Hero is enshrined
in their heart of hearts.  His face is to be seen in
their print-shops; his name is bestowed on their
Streets and Hotels, and Reading-rooms, and his arrivals are hailed with a brother's welcome.
The prejudice against titles runs high, and sometimes exhibits itself absurdly enough   I heard a
i 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
gentleman seeming to congratulate himself on hav ing made a point to address the Earl of Durham
as -izr. Durham during his visit to New York. I
suggested that an English Lord would impute that
to his ignorance of how to manage a title. This new
view of the subject seemed somewhat mortifying,
seeing what he designed to exhibit, was not his ignoranlce, but his contempt of such kickshaws.
Nevertheless I thought I observed that the arrival
of a titled man produces a degree of emapressement
in the fashionable worldly circles, though they strive
to conceal it.'~ Except, indeed, in case of such a visitor as Lord Morpeth, whose fair and impassionate
views, and moral worth, recommended him to a higher
style of men than those of the mere circles of
fashion.
It often struck me that the desire of approbation
which is so strongly marked in the American charaeter, instead of having its source in an exacting or
boasting spirit, springs from two generous sentiments.
The first is the love of country. It is often amusing,
but always agreeable, to see a man kindle in describing habits, properties, and inventions which are
endeared to him from his having a personal honor
or credit in them. The country is not worth living
in, that is not worth loving; and the government
II
399 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
that deadens instead of awakening the patriotic sentiment, must be unhealthy.   I am not sure that every
American who applauds his native land will coincide
with or thank me for the remark, that the second
seems to have its source in respect for other countries,
and especially for the parent country, Great Britain.
They desire their approval. They wish to be the
model of all Republics. They desire to be the finest
as well as the widest country in the world, and their
enjoyment of its greatness is much enhanced if you
admire it with them. This sentiment could not deserve to be called generous, if they only held up
their country for men to admire, and closed it against
strangers. But their conduct is the very reverse of
this. They welcome to its homes the refugee from
every country. Their soil provides a place for exkings, ex-generals, ex-patriots. Nay, in the energy
of their patriotic welcomes, they are in danger of
killing with kindness. In the case of the Ex-Governor of Hungary, it is possible that for the first
time it entered the mind of Kossuth that there is
some advantage in' streets bristling with bayonets,'
and ways cleared by gens d'armnes; when he, weary,
sea-worn, anxious, and really sick, was forced to
wait two hours at the Castle Garden before room
could be made for him to pass to a place of rest.
400 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMES.
The enthusiasm is generous and inspiring, and moves
all ages at once to lively demonstration.  It mrnay,
however, excite expectations in Hungary which America is not prepared to meet. Individuals will give
liberally of their gold, their huzzas, and speeches
of welcome, and feasts, and showers of nosegays.
These may seem preliminary steps towards very serious interferences with European despots, from
which the nation will probably shrink back at the
hour of action.
But not only do they welcome illustrious exiles.
There might be some pride in sheltering them —
some eclat in the eyes of the spectator-nations, in
affording asylums to such as they have cast out.
They receive with as free a welcome the houseless
and poor-they stretch out their hands to help the
landing of those who in the first instance cost them
much unprofitable trouble and expense. The newcomers must be housed, —nursed. if sick, at the
risk of propagating pestilence,-placed in positions
where their qualifications can be made available,
and often forwarded to such situations with trouble
and expense to their employers. Yet you never
hear the multitude of emigrants murmured against,
though you often hear it wondered at.  "Let them
come-let them come," they say, "this is a great
26
I~
I
401 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMIS.
country-we have room and resources for them all.
No  industrious man or woman need starve in our
country,-let them come-let them come."
Few troops of human beings could look less inviting than those that are to be seen daily making
their way to the Emigration offices. But the natives
look past the lean squalor of the outside to the man
within, and repeat kindly, "Let them come."   The
wants of the country form their welcome.  So many
willing laborers are equivalent to so much capital.
They land without the means to purchase their
first meal, but they bring a robust northern constitution. Their powers are soon found to be exactly
suited to the necessity. Look on those seven hodmen on one swinging ladder, each carrying his quotum of brick or mortar. They began at morning,
and now it is noon. They have not ceased to go
the round up, sky high with their load, and down
by another ladder, after they have laid it on the
scaffold. Do they come down to stand and breathe?
or sit down and rest? No,-they go on up down,
up down, until evening, only pausing for meals.
Americans reared under a more enervating sun,
and fed on hot cakes, and loads of butter and
butcher-meat, could by no  means  execute those
rounds, they would soon give in and rest-and so
I
i
402 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
of all other  laborious works.   Who  drain  the
marshes, and clear the forests, and pull the snags
out of the rivers? Who dig the canals, improve
thie harbors, and lay the roads? It is these same
shivering starving emigrants, of whom the wise in
their policy and the benevolent in their pity say,
"Let them come."
The God of providence, who designs to people
the Western world from the East, has so inclined
their hearts-and one looks through the first struggle and difficulty, and in imagination sees these
starving fed, and those naked clothed, and these
wild little children at common school, being taught.
The mind finds such a picture charming, were it not
for the fear that the poor people, bringing their
empty cup, will find it difficult, according to our
Scotch proverb, to " carry a full one with a steady
hand."  If to this smiling plenty they add the fear
of God, all will be well. If they are filled only with
this world, they will become heady and high-minded,
and in a few years will find themselves as poorly
provided for the eternal shore on which they must
land, as they were for the shores of the New World
when they first landed upon them.
One looks with great respect on the courage of
women taking up an object and pursuing it through
I
403 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
many difficulties and intricacies, in all manner of
positions, not allowing the recollection of their sex
to interfere with or impede their steps. We saw
one lady seated in the library of the Capitol searching records for herself, and pointing out passages
to her secretary which she desired to have extracted. Another, whose name is publicly honored,
so that to mention it is not unbecoming, Miss Dix,
has acted a Howard's part in searching out the
cause of the neglected or ill-managed.  Year after
year, she has made investigations from city to city,
and from state to state, and having obtained evidence of the necessities, has laid before Congress
petitions for grants of land to endow and on which
to build hospitals for the insane, and prisons more
airy and better ordered.  Her business brings her
to the seat of government, as a matter of course,
and she never fails to find the right man to take up
her cause and plead it. Through her disinterested
exertions, many sufferings have been alleviated, and
many neglected ones have been made comfortable.
To be thus useful members of society it is not
necessary to become politicians, or to step out of
a strictly feminine attitude.   The American ladies
who thus exert themselves do not mingle in politics.
404 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
They aim at their one object and pursue it without
deviation.
An effervescence of enthusiasm for the man of the
day sometimes exhibits itself among females in a manner that would alarm any British statesman, as much
as it does the American gentlewoman. I do not believe it ought to be called a practice, yet in more than
one city it has fallen out that Henry Clay has been
called upon in his progress to submit to an amazing
ordeal. I am so negligent as to have forgotten the
occasion on which Mr. Clay met the gratitude of his
countrywomen; or rather I was so confounded at
the mode of its expression, that my attention was
withdrawn from the occasion, and swallowed up in
the demonstration.   One impassioned female, in a
tide of love and devotion, rushed forward to the
hero, and contrived to reach up to his not particularly beautiful or inviting face, and-kissed him!!
Did you ever see the leader-sheep of the flock leap
over a rivulet, and then another, and another follow, till the whole, score upon score, in a frenzy of
imitation, leaped it also?  Just so followed the excited women, hundreds upon hundreds.  Poor Henry
Clay! Those who could not reach his head kissed
his hands or his coat. As the multitude rendered
it impossible that their hero should return the civil
405 
IMAINNERS AND CUSTOMS.
ity, he stood it nobly, till all who chose had saluted
him,-and because of his advanced years, hlie proba bly regarded it as an act of filial reverence in his
daughters.
A lady, who had entered the Hall to look upon
the great statesman, assured me, with many blushes,
that she stood on one side and beheld what is here
stated.  When I inquired as to the rank of the
wonderfully grateful throng, she replied it was not
possible to discriminate by means of silk gowns and
fine shawls, as everybody canl afford to dress well in
America, but I might conjecture their rank by their
method of expressing their admiration.
We must suppose that such an ebullition can occur but once in a man's life, and that it must be conneeted with some peculiar accessibility in the hero.
One does not fancy that such an assault could be
made on Daniel Webster or General Scott, or that
it could be less than very unpleasing to any man.
The conduct of matters  at the White House
strikes every European with surprise-and, doubtless, every European blessed with a free government,
with admiration.  The evening we went there, the
crowd of carriages and company  was  great, but
President Fillmore  had no  body-guard.   There
were no sentinels at the gates, and no policemen
406 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
peeping about to spy some one out of bounds.
There was a mixture of spectators about the halls
and piazzas, and probably somle few were even within the saloons, who did not approach the President.
Every one acquitted himself as if he were personally interested in having all pass off to advantage.
Lookers-on came in to the outer apartment without
tickets of admission, and on all occasions conduct
themselves with propriety.
There were some magnificently-built men, such as
one likes to see, holding the rank of generals and
admirals. The President did not fall behind any in
height and fine figure, or in pleasing intelligence of
countenance.   There were also some splendid women, splendidly dressed, as well as sonie lovely and
some homely in costumes neat and elegant, but not
rich. All were the same as to reception,-at least,
if there were any precedence, it was not so conspicuous as to be observed by a stranger. In perambulating the circular room several times, nothing appeared calculated to scare away the cheerful simplicity of converse. The companion who chanced for
the time to make the circle with us pointed out with
pride the conquerors in the Mexican war, the Senators who had made eloquent appearances on the
right side, whichever the talker happened to think
I
.1
407 
408      MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
such. The foreign ambassadors were distinguished,
and so were the beautiful women, and those whose
ancestors had suffered and made great sacrifices during the war of Independence-but all with simple
heartiness. Whatever has been said or supposed in
England about the aristocracy of wealth, I cannot
remember that one individual was marked to me on
account of his being the proprietor of millions of
dollars, though doubtless there were many such
Politeness is the ' Davy's Safety Lamp" of the
country. There is a flame of ardent opinion or sentiment within, and without there may be elements
of a dangerous character, which by contact, would
easily kindle into hot argument, or hazardous passion. Where no more solid principle forms the
protector, politeness is the surrounding guardian
In none of the various ranks of society in which
I had the means of mingling, did I meet the stiffness of etiquette, or its monotony. There is a coldness about grandeur which acts as a refrigerator on
all around. It does not mingle with the general
loses the possession of them. There are many fam
prset
whcfrvnscnlgain
syptisin   o   atofteeecs   fison
ileinErp rerdithreiesttofecr 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
cling park walls and lofty gateways, whose most enlivening variety in early days is the display of the
peacock's tail on the edge of the terrace, the trot of
the beautiful antlered herd over the lawn, or the
scud of the hare from under the shrubs. These
people's sympathies are so closed out from their fellows, that the sight of a poor person within certain
precincts is an offence, and the inquiry is instantly
raised, how he got in. State, particularly in young
people, is apt to be exacting, supercilious, and intolerant. Pride usurps the place of the kindly amenities, and groundless and idle jealousies ward off the
effusion of affection which ought to spring up readily
in young hearts. The enjoyment of a day, when
they once come out into their own style of society,
may be marred by some trifling failure in etiquette,
such as one of inferior rank being placed in precedence to them. How many fine minds have been
wasted on such poor stuff as this, and that which
nature has made gentle and graceful, reduced to
empty, self-exalting elegance, and artificial exacting
refinement.
This style of consequence does not show its face
in American society, though people have their own
positions, and fall into and keep them naturally.
When upstart wealth seeks to make its way in cul
I
409 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
tivated and refined society, unless the parties are
themselves estimable and attractive, they generally
find the achievement too difficult.  There is much
extravagance in furniture and dress in the wealthy
cities, and this in many different ranks; and a rich
man, or his ambitious wife, sometimes makes the
show and talk of the hour by giving a splendid party-colored lamps, festoons of flowers, conservatories lighted up like moonlight groves, odors diffused
from urns, dreamy music issuing from shady caves,
tableaux vivans fixing the eye under Gothic arches
-such are the attractions by which taste, extravagance and folly have sometimes tried to construct a
path for the vulgar into the society of the refined.
But the experiment generally ends in the failure of
the plan, and probably you hear that the party, disappointed of the aim of all this display, has left the
place in disgust, while the grand house, with its gorgeous contents, are for sale.
The  absence of domestic comfort in crowded
boarding-houses, exposes people to the attraction of
out-door amusements, and thus many seek to pass
hours in second-rate theatres, and public gardens,
who could and would enjoy homes, if they possessed
them.  There is a levity of mind and taste thus fos tered, which may pervert the character for life.
i
410
II
I
ii
i
i
i
i
i
i
i
i
I
i
i
i
I
I
i
i
i
I
I
i
i
i 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.      411
One could not remark without regret and fear, how
in New York, more than in other cities, this amusement mania is breaking over old sober barriers, and
Christian parents, who never themselves sought enjoyment in such pastimes, yield to the importunity
of their children, and suffer them to go where the
restraint of the parental eye never follows them.
On reconsidering nine months spent most agreeably amongst Christian friends, in whom my soul
quietly reposed, I feel that I have acquired treasures of esteem, admiration, and love for many precious characters, which I shall cherish in memory
for life. Amongst them I found no repulsive boasting, no rude comparisons, no self-exalting propositions. But whenever one enters into society of a
decidedly worldly cast, you encounter something of
all these. Still there is good-humor and kindness
in their earnest desire to draw out the expression
of your admiration of  our country."
It was delightful, and at the same time amusing,
on that sunny morning when, after our very stormy
voyage, we came in sight of the Neversinks, and
amid a fleet of graceful white sails we entered the
Narrows, to observe and participate in the varied
emot ions         of ou r fellow-travellers.  The joy of turning Sandy Hook, and recognizing well-known ob
23
I
I
I 
SMANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
jects, mounted to enthusiasm. There being very
few English on board, the lively Americans were
lavish in their efforts to show me every striking object, and every fine point of view. One thought
this the best position to see everything from; another hastened to remove me to that. One lent a
telescope, another described a fort, another pointed
out an island. All demanded approbation, admiration, nay, were not quite satisfied without ecstacy.
I loved their patriotism, and felt obliged by their
politeness, but their comparisons jarred against my
feelings. The atmosphere was delightful, the sky
deep blue, the floating clouds fleecy. It was all full
of what was pleasing. But my ciceroni were not
satisfied without the confession that London is "Fog
Babylon," and Britain "an egg in a nest of moss."
To praise the present did not satisfy their full
hearts, they demanded admission of some inferiority
in the absent. Such is man! It seems nearly as
benevolent to abuse one's country as to say,' Madam,
excuse me, but you have an ugly face." Instead
of enabling one to give expression of admiration to
their country, it has the effect of utterly repressing
it. The whole feeling arises from inconsideration,
as no one can have merit with respect to a climate
i
412 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
in reference to which he was not consulted when he
was born in it.
There is, however, another style of rivalry, which
though useful to commerce and to science, is apt to
stir worse feelings than those of exultation about
climate or the productions of the earth, the rivalry
in ship-building and sailing. We were retarded by
storms. One of the Cunard line of steamers was to
sail three days after us. People talked about the
possibility of that ship reaching port as soon as we.
The solicitude that we should be first in spite of adverse elements was immense.   "If the  Europa get
on without meeting the skirts of our gale."  "If she
should enter the port by the same tide." Many
were the idle "ifs." and some of them clearly accompanied with bitterness. Yet I never comprehended how deep the feeling was, till I heard our
gallant captain in his deep calm voice reply to one
of these "ifs," " I'd rather lose a limb."
During several days while the gale lasted, solicitude, and a degree of doubt hung on the minds of
the irost experienced voyagers in the cabin, as to
how so huge a craft might acquit herself in such a
sea. And it was not till the captain expressed his
satisfaction in the brief but important sentence,
"She's behaving well, sir," that an outburst of en
413 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
thusiasm broke forth on the excellence of the ship,
of American ship building, and of all her ships in
general, and on their universal superiority to those
of Britain. Our experienced captain, who knew
more of maritime matters than all his passengers,
sometimes put in a quiet word, which had rather a
damping effect. He probably felt that, however
good the vessel, the springing of a single plank
could have put a stop to our boasting, and that such
an event was within reach of possibility. All the discussers of ship-building did not see so far as he did.
This one national characteristic apart, the manners of the people in the United States are, taken as
a whole, more frank, natural, benevolent, and lively
than our own. In politeness and consideration for
feminine weakness, real or supposed, they very far
surpass the English.      Tell me," said a native of
one of the colonies, on board the Cunard steamer by
which we returned to England, "tell me what difference you observe between the manners of the
Americans and ours?"  "The most striking to me
at the moment is their superiority in politeness. I
have been leaning over this rail for half an hour,
and there are six Englishmen seated on either hand,
not one of whom has offered me a seat." I almnost
regretted my remark, for during the remainder of
414 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.                 415
the voyage this amiable person never failed to fly
off for a camp stool the moment he saw me ascend
the stairs. Yet, had I doubted the fact before,
there has been evidence enough since my return
that my remark was just. Our women, though not
so courageous in public acts as theirs, are left far
more to their own resources in private, and are,
with the public-spirited and noble exceptions,
among their sisters across the ocean, more independent in thinking and acting than they.
There are a few festival days in the year, when
the mechanic lays down his tools, the shopman
leaves his store, and all the world has a sympathy
in enjoyment.
Thanksgiving is a great day.   The Governor of
each State appoints it at the time most suitable.
Christians flock to places of worship to offer acknowledgments for the mercies of seed-time and harvest,
and all the blessings of the year, political and private. Friends flock to each other's houses, and
those who have not had time to meet for many a
day, eat turkey and cranberries together, while those
who have the gift, recount in after-dinner speeches
their blessings. and satisfactions, and submissions to
the dispensations of the past months. It is a day
much to be delighted in, when the prosperous " eat 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
the fat and drink the sweet, and send portions to
those who have nothing," as in the days of ancient
Jewish sacrifice.
Then comes Christmas with its roast goose and
plum-puddings, and its exhibitions of well-dressed
Sunday-school children.   In the old settlements,
then comes that liberal humorsome old friend of
the expecting little ones, Santa Claus. I have seen
him in full equipment, a gentleman much resembling
Punch in the frontispiece-only besides the hooked
nose and droll, benevolent, quizzical face, he is hung
round with shooting-bags, fishing-baskets, long wallets and short, all protruding in a promising manner,
with pretty things, toys, and candy. He is not of
such large bounty as the German Christmas-tree. on
which grows sometimes a whole suit of clothes, hats,
shoes, and every useful thing; but he is a more mysterious sugar-plum-loving benefactor, whio particularly interests the little people in the nursery.  He
finds his way into their pockets, and conveniently
discovers all the stockings which on Christmas eve
never can rest quietly on a chair, but are hung up
most invitingly, and whatever he finds of that description, he kindly stuffs with the contents of his
many bags. I never could discover certainly from
any child how Santa Claus gets in. Some think
f
i
416 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
down the chimney, some through the key-hole, some
have a shrewd suspicion that Mamma and he have
some treaty about it. He is a welcome ancient
guest, come how he may; and I have my own suspicion that he is a patron Saint transported from
Europe, whose eastern name, Saint Nicholas, has in
the hurry of western talk been abridged of a few of
its letters.
But the 1st of January, which follows hard
upon it, quite eclipses its predecessor.   Everybody that knows anybody, must on that day pay
their respects. The rushing about is amazing. The
brief, graceful, pleasant congratulations are lively as
they are fleeting. It is no day for a wit to expend
bright things on, as no one has leisure to remember
them. The hurry is so great that by common consent the word " day" is omitted in its name, and
everybody calls it "New Year's."
If a pair of dove's eyes have shot through the
heart of a youth, he may, without previous acquaintance with the family, call and look upon them on
that day of privilege, and no one will wonder or think
it intrusive. The stranger who has previously delivered his introduction, is expected to offer his salutations on that day. Old associates meet and hail
each other with " auld lang syne" cordiality; and if
27
I
417 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
any business misunderstanding, or any family dispute
has occurred during the past year, you have but to
enter, present your congratulations, shake hands all
around, and it is understood that the division is
henceforth to be forgotten and the wound is healed.
The ladies stay at home and hold the levee, while
the gentlemen run the round, sometimes of hundreds
of houses. I believe the Clergy also stay to make
their reception. When evening comes, those who
are united by family ties pass the time together in a
more quiet manner.  "New-year's" is a fine specimen of the sociable and lively habits of the people,
and the way of keeping it here described, is peculiar to the city of New York.
The day of days, however, is the 4th of Julythat memorable and happy day of the Declaration of
Independence. I had the misfortune to sail two
days too soon, and cannot tell from observation how
the nation exhibits its joy and exultation. But
judging by the mass of fire-wheels, rockets, and
squibs that I happened to see preparing, it must have
been as great a day for the explosion of gunpowder, in
proportion to the size of the countries, as the birthday
of our much-beloved Queen, who is as popular in her
monarchy as Washington was and is in his republic.
After New-year was over, I inquired of an in
I
418 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
dustrious young man, when he would have another
holiday.   He  replied, "Not  till the' fourth of
July.'"  It is a hard trial to bodily and mental
vigor, to be so long upon the stretch, without relaxation and without variety.   For they  do in
America cleave to their business with unremitting
care. Our Father in Heaven, knowing the constitution and wants of the creatures he has made, has
appointed one day in seven as a day of holy respite
from toil, and of peaceful and reposing communion
with Himself. Happy the man of business and of
labor, who knows how to gather the manna and refreshment it is designed to shed.
There are many customs peculiar to districts,
which have descended from their European progenitors, and are interesting, as heirlooms to those who
inherit them. One custom, however, which I met
within almost every house where I had the happiness
of receiving much social enjoyment, originated in
New England. The custom in the higher circles
of abstinence from intoxicating drinks.   The brotherly love is to be highly esteemed, which induces
whole families to refuse utterly to intermeddle with
that article which ensnares their neighbor, though
for themselves it may have no temptation. The
vigor of national character exercised by those cities,
419 
420         MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS.
-in one instance, I believe by a whole Statewhich have made for themselves a decree of total
abstinence, has a grandeur in it that commands respect. In Maine, if you will have ardent spirits, you
must seek them from the druggist's bottle.  This is
an act of the Legislature, cheerfully acceded to by
the whole people. What could such a people not do,
in raising the moral tone of their State, were they
to adopt similar energy and self-denial in overthrowing other vices as they have in doing battle with
drunkenness. Six sermons by Dr. Lyman Beecher,
on the subject of Total Abstiinenee, published widely
in Old England as well as in his own country, have
had the powerful effect in urging on that important
measure, which by their sound reasons and eloquent
language they are well fitted to have. The cool,
calm, unloaded atmosphere of the hotels is refresihing, and the table where 80 or 100 people dine,
presents no liquid but cheering iced water.
I have happily nothing to do with travellers' hints
about brandy and water in the bar-room, out of
sight, but am satisfied that those guzzling habits
are now counted dishonoring and injurious, which
thirty years ago led people to drink a little half a
dozen times in the day. And I must despise the
taste that could induce an Englishman to try if he 
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
could not tempt a Bostonian to give him a treat of
the far-famed sherry cobbler behind the foldingdoors. Was it curiosity? he ought to have respected the motives of Boston enough to refrain from
laying that snare before a friend who, to oblige him
as a stranger, yielded to his temptation. Was it to
discern if he who treated himl, would also in secret,
treat himself? It was basely suspicious. Or was
it rather that the tempter loved to guzzle?  In that
case, he must hasten to become a water-drinker,
lest he fall into the miserable ranks of the inebriate.
At ceremonious private dinners, coffee is often
brought with the dessert-and at evening parties a
beautiful variety of good things is produced, accompanied by lemonade and iced water.
Oh, those respectable china or silver jugs, a foot
and a half high, with the lumps of pure ice floating
in them, giving notice of their honest, wholesome
presence by a knock against the sides when the
vessels are moved.  HIow often have I wished to
see them established instead of Old England's nutbrown ale. and Scotland's still more ruinous whiskey.
With  all the pains that  have been  exerted,
America is not cleansed from the sin and disgrace
of drunkenness, but its frequency is powerfully
I
421 
422         MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS.
diminished. Now, no mani puts the bottle to his
neighbor, and besets him with entreaties to drink.
No lady now, in making a round of calls, is in
danger of coming honte half tipsy, by mlaeans of the
cordial at one house, the choice wine at another,
and the Roman punch at a third. If people will
drink, they must do it secretly.   They must retreat
to the bar-room, or inhale their sherry cobbler behind the folding-door.   This is so much  the case,
that it is a fact, that some men have died of delirium tremens, who were not suspected of inebriety
till betrayed by this horrid disease, which swept
them into the drunkard's eternity.
The climate is of itself so exciting, that it is said,
one third the quantity of liquor will carry away a
man's head and feet, that would be required to produce that effect ini England. The example of the
clergy does theim  holnor, and has had a powerful
effect. In the house of no clergyman, of whatever
denomination, did I see liquor, but I grieve to say,
ill some of them I heard with shame, how the habits
of our Scottish clergy, their guests, had impeded
their influence and shocked the abstemious people.
Our  clergy are  all temperate  men,  but in the
United States their pious clergymen are total abstainers for example's sake. 
FROM Buffalo to Niagara the way is not altogether
pleasant. The uncultured suburbs and imperfect
roads of a city hasting in its growth, the ugly shanties of workmen laboring there, the trees stript of
their branches, the houses for cattle without paint
or any pretension to neatness, and those for men
with glaring drink-inviting signs, and the ground
guttered by recent rains, while the river's bank in
some parts looked like the slimy edge of a tide-water
canal,-such is the uninviting aspect of the first
few miles of the road.  It was therefore pleasing to
let the eye take refuge in the deep blue, cloudless
sky, effulgent in the subdued sunbeams of the balmy
Indian Summer. Not a cloud remained to indicate
the torrent of rain which had been emptied on the
earth during the night. When, lo! while we were
yet several miles from our destination a pillar of
cloud appeared-white, but massy, containing an immense quantity of vapor condensed by the coolness
giagara. 
424                 NIAGARA.
of the surrounding air. It was not hung in the
heavens a lonely cloud, revealing not whence it had
been exhaled. It ascended from mother earth like
the cloud from the Altar of Incense of old in the
unshaded sky of the wilderness-and probably this
cloud, so dense, so white, so lofty, has ascended from
the altar of nature in the Indian wild for centuries
before that incense sought the sky in the desert of
Arabia, as it has continued to ascend 3000 years
since the altar and the camp of Israel have been
removed. This pillar of vapor, from the foam of
Niagara, still, huge, and solemn, in the quiet air,
filled the mind. Meet incense from an altar so
grand and so enduring. One wanted to be alone
to gaze on it and hear the accompanying boom of
the mighty torrent, and feel the earth tremble
around it. At length we neared the scene of this
huge coil of waters, where the cloud, instead of
increasing in importance, seemed to diminish. Attention was diverted. There seemed a gap between
it and the surface of the foam, and the forest trees
appeared to mingle in its formation.  I could never
recover the impression produced by my first view of
the pillar of cloud.
Every one professes disappointment on the first
view of the Falls. I must confess my exceeding
II 
NIAGARA.                   425
dulness, which had excited some mirth amongst my
fellow-travellers. We had unexpectedly caught a
glimpse of the Genesee Falls the day before, when
a brilliant sun painted a rich and perfect rainbow,
which hung over the boiling volumes of the flood
below, like " love watching madness with unaltered
mien." In a few moments the cars stopt at Rochester, and, while we hastened back to seek the border of the Genesee, I expressed my wonder that
we bad already reached VNiagara! It was but the
hallucination of the moment, but made food for fun,
and proved at least that I should be easily contented
with my  cataract.   Yet in comparison with any
common  Falls. those of the Genesee are magnificent.
I was not disappointed with Niagara. And, like
all the grand and noble in nature, it bears inspection.
Its grandeur magnifies under contemplation, and the
mind finds secret recesses of admiration, or solemn
sympathies unfold to apprehend the mighty scene,
and the heart's pulses learn to beat in unison with
the diapason of its muffled thunders. Leisurely observation, therefore, does not exhaust, but rather
enhances the interest-and weeks instead of days
might glide by while the spirit would still freshly
mingle with the spell of its Fall.
i
I
I 
42      B      I~R
We took a guide from the only Hotel left open at
that late season of the year, and found him useful as
related to the safety of our steps, but otherwise
rather an impediment than assistant. Speciallyand it is the only timne I was really incommoded by
the much-discussed tobacco-consuming customs of
the country-specially by the man's continually eating of tobacco, and obliging us to skip about and
shift our places to avoid its disgusting consequences,
while we wished to view the immenese cascade in repose. We found this well-fed, but niot well-inforlwed
person afterwards at the hotel dinner amongst the
travellers.
When people on the spot are expected to describe
the Falls. you generally find them gliding off from
the grand theme to something that concerns man.
Here such an one fell in and was carried over the
precipice into the gulf below,-there another was
rescued,-by such means the American  flag was
planted on that shelf of gravel in the midst of the
rapid.  And, above all, they are most apt to tell
you here was a battle between the Indians and the
settlers, and there between the Americans and the
British. They will disturb your contemplation on
the verge of that fearful gulf called the Devil's Hole,
to bring forth a human jaw bleached by ninety win
L__ _ _
I
iI
426
NIAGARA. 
NJAGAP.             427
ters, which once had belonged to an English soldier,
who, with a hundred of his comrades, were by a body
of Seneca Indians slain or cast down that precipice
to perish. Battle, murder, or sudden death seem
the subjects you cannot escape from in this vicinity,
so prolific in contests between the civilized and the
savage.
"There the deer drank, and the light gale flew o'er
The twinkling maize field rustling on the shore,
And while that spot, so wild, and lone, and fair,
A look of glad and innocent beauty wore,
And peace was on the earth and in the air
The warrior lit the pile, and bound his captive there."
BRYANT.
A land, rich now in well-cultured fields and natural productions; and enshrining in its centre one of
the noblest cascades of the world, has been the
scene of more contests arising from pride, wrath,
and cupidity, than may be found anywhere in an
equal circle of miles. What is there to be feared;
what of solemn and awful in these ever-rushing, and
tumbling, and plunging waters, compared to that
which the heart of man, boiling over in blood-thirsty
rage has exhibited and executed. Not only the old
Indian wars, and the war of Independence, have
made this district a part of their battle-field; but in
our later contests in 1813 and'14, here was the
I
427
NIAGARA. 
428                 NIAGARA.
scene of most bitter conflict. Whether you will or
not you must hear of warlike actions on all hands.
Concealed by the woods of Goat Island, lies tihe
battle-field of Chippewa; though concealed, you must
hear of it, for there, July 5, 1814, Generals Scott
and Porter drove the enemy from all his positions,
and obliged him to retreat.
On the Canada side lies Lundy's Lane, where on
the 25th July, 1814, after shedding much blood,
both Americans and English claimed the victory.
In short, the mind is disturbed and pained by endless details of strife, and forced to attend to the evil
doings of the creature, when you would gladly dwell
in silence on the work of the Creator.
We crossed by the Suspension Bridge to the
Canada side. A bridge apparcntly as long and as
high as Telford's great work over the Menai Strait
in Wales, but much less strong. The wires are
small, and the whole fabric so light that it seems
scarcely designed to sustain a loaded vehicle. Indeed, we were invited to alight, and our empty carriage was driven slowly over, while we walked. Our
guide cast a heavy stone from the centre, that we
might watch its progress, and count the moments required for it to reach the river which rushes below.
The pathway of the bridge is eight hundred feet 
NIAGARA.
long, and the wire cables ten thousand feet, while
the columns which support them are sixty-five feet
high.
We were glad to pause at the centre of the bridge
and study the front view of the Horse Shoe Fall, as
we could not obtain it from the trim little steam
craft, the " Maid of the Mist,"' which plies below
the Falls, it being laid up for the season. We ascended the stream to the very verge of the Great
Fall-the place from whence the Table Rock
plunged down into the boiling gulf a few months
before. This rock had long projected forty or fifty
feet over the bank, which was gradually caved out
by the wasting waters. A wide and deep fissure
ran across a considerable portion of it, giving warning that its period for breaking off from the side
could not be distant. Yet such was the zeal of all
the world to view the cataract from this fine post of
observation, that the venture was made to the very
last. Not two minutes before its final plunge, a
lady and gentleman had stepped from it to the solid
ground.
One mile above this Fall is the Burning Spring,
which is covered in by a hut.   After seeing the
hydrogen gas, which issues from it, once lighted by
a torch, I had seen enough, and retreated to the
429 
430                  NIAGARA.
margin of the rapid. The fall of the ground here is
one hundred and fifty-four feet in two miles, while
the water narrows by means of Goat Island, and becomes about twenty feet in depth. It was here that
the power and force of the torrent made the strongest impression on my mind. It was like hundreds
of fleet steeds at full gallop, pouring on to their goal.
and bearing down all before them. Irresistible, unwearying, unceasing, unchanging. Pure emerald, so
that you could count the stones below. but fearful,
tremendous, gigantic, as it coursed along. Its surface a little curled, but by no means indicating by
superficial disturbance the might of its movements.
It may sound strange to say that, after the Rapid,
the Fall itself seemed a helpless thing. When it
reaches the edge of the precipice, what can the torrent do but fall!  It must go down!  The Rapid
looks like a thing of life. It seems possessed of
volition. The Falls like other falling things, tumbles into the boiling pool below, because it must.
How can it avoid it?
Nay-more strange!  I have seen smaller cascades which seemed to have more a will of their own
than has this mighty Niagara. They come skipping
down. stop and run about the ledge of a rock, and
then skip down a little farther, as if they were at 
MAGAPA.            431
play, and would reach the bottom at their leisure.
While in the Niagara river it is one fell swoop, one
deadly plunge, one tumble over a precipice of 154
feet in height into a caldron of 250 feet in depth.
In that caldron something like volition is recovered, for the fallen waters foam up again, as though
they would re-ascend the precipice: but finding that
impracticable they turn and course their way once
more, like racehorse, down the rocky gorge.  They
meet a fresh impediment about four miles below,
where a mountain crossing what would seem the natural path of the waters, forces them to bend abruptly, and seek another outlet, not, however, until they
have miade many a rapid turning in the whirlpool.
In that whirlpool, which we surveyed from the
high bank above its margin, we saw limbs of trees,
small debris of the forest, and a broken hurdle or
two, wheeling round and round, seeming not likely
ever to be cast out of the vortex. Yet, I presume,
a natural philosopher could observe the circles as
they receive fresh impulses from the ever-descending
river, and calculate how many must be made before
the object now in the centre shall be cast out to the
border.  They tell fearful tales-enough to freeze
the blood-of the bodies of those who have been
drowned wheeling round and round far out of reach
NIAGAP.A.
431 
432             NIAGARA.
in this never-resting caldron-now raising a limb,
now half rising as if seated on the waters, again diving as if in breathless and living haste, but ever,
ever refusing to near the shore or to be rescued.
A young Englishman, Francis Abbott, known as the
Hermit of the Falls, built him a hut on Goat Island
in 1829, where he dwelt alone till he was drowned
in bathing in 1831. HIis history was unknownbut his collection of classical authors, his guitar, his
sketch-book, all indicated the man of edueation,
while his gentle manners excited a strong desire to
learn if he were "crazed with care, or crossed in
hopeless love." Mrs. Sigourney has, with her usual
power and grace, told the young hermit's fate, and
her description of the whirlpool will explain what
sights are sometimes to be seen there more graphially than anything I can say:
He'neath the crystal waters lay,
Luxuriant in the swimmer's play,
But now the whelming flood grew strong
And bore him like a weed along,
Though, with convulsive throes of pain
And heaving breast, he strove in vain;
Then sinking'neath the infuriate tide,
Loiie as he lived, the Itermit died.
On by the rushing current swept
The lifeless corse its voyage kept,
432
NIAGARA. 
NIAGARA.             433
To where in narrow gorge comprest
The whirling eddies never rest,
But boil with wild tumultuous sway,
The Maelstrom of Niagara.
And there within that rocky bound
In swift gyrations round and round,
Mysterious course it held;
Now springing from the torrent hoarse,
Now battling, as with maniac force
To mortal strife compelled.
Right fearful'neath the moonbeam bright
It was to see that brow so white,
And mark the ghastly dead
Leap upward from his torture-bed
As if in passion's gust,
And tossing wild with agony,
To mock the omnipotent decree
Of dust to dust.
At length, where smoother waters flow,
Emerging from the gulf below
The hapless youth they gained, and bore
Sad to his own forsaken door.
There watched his dog with straining eye,
And scarce would let the train pass by,
Till that with instinct's rushing spell
Through the changed cheek's impurpled hue,
And stiff and stony form, he knew
The Master he had loved so well.
*    *    *    *    *    *.    *
While strew'd around on board and chair
The last pluck'd flower, the book last read,
The ready pen, the page outspread,
The water cruse, the unbroken bread,
Revealed how sudden was the snare
That swept him to the dead.
28
433
NIAGARA. 
484                     NIAGARA.
And so he rests in foreign earth
Who drew'mid Albion's vales his birth.
*     *     *     *    X      *     *
Who here his humble worship paid,
In that most glorious temple-shrine,
Where to the Majesty divine
Nature her noblest altar made.
*     *     *     *    X      *     *
Still with sad heart his requiem pour
Amid the cataract's ceaseless roar,
Nor grudge one tear of pitying gloom
To dew that cad enthusiast's tomb.
It would be but vain repetition to tell of the
American Fall, the Cave of the Winds. the many
Islets and the varied beauties of the shore. which
have been so often described. There was, however,
one object at the edge of the Horse-Shoe Fall,
when we saw it, which had but lately been carried
down the Rapid, and which excited much interest.
This was a canal-boat that had broken from its
moorings, and glided onward, till it came within that
power which will not be impeded or robbed of its
prey. Before the boat reached the fiercest part of
the Rapid, a man and boy were rescued from their
impending fate, by the skill and bravery of some
who from the shore observed themi.  But the boat
swept on, and the spectators expected to see her
plunge down the cataract, A projecting rock, how
I_______________________________________________________ ______________________________________________________
II
I
'i
I
I
I
i
I
I
i
i
i
i
i
ii
i
I
I
i
i
i
i
i
i
i
i
I
i
i 
435
ever, caught her, and there, en the very verge of
that watery precipice, she lay, broadside to the fall,
balanced against that small ledge of rock, and seeming almost to look down into that perilous gulf.
Her fate was certain, but it was retarded.   Some
months after, the rock gave way under the constant
pressure of those mighty waters.  She plunged below, and doubtless was dashed to fragments which
would join the debris in that dizzy and ceaseless
whirlpool
One might moralize, and fill a sheet with nmusings,
on the course to ruin of many a youth who set sail
in quiet waters: fell into evil, plunged on, was
stopped, but not reformed, and at last plunged into
a depth more dreadful far than this.
How often have I thought had the man and boy
not been rescued before the boat stuck fast  what
could have been done to reach them to save them
fromr perishing of huniiger and of horror7 so near two
friendly banks, where huntdreds would have longed
to deliver them.  As far as I can see. the answer
must be-nothing.   Could they have been reached
by su-ach an apparatus as Manby's?
Oh, solemn fate!  So long protracted; death
suspended as by a hair, yet the living moving on
greensward, even within call, unless the voice of
I
i
I
i
i
II
I
I.
I
I- 
NIAGARA. 
the waters conquered that of mian.   What a mercy
they were not brought down in that boat to linger
and die on thatI ver-ge.
The noise of many waters is inot of the astounding
character expected' by those unaccustomed to it.
There is no deafening roar, no sound of exploding
bombs arising from the Falls.  It is a solemn voice
of deep harmonioies, plunging  and profound. not
splashing or dropping.  In the mingled and variou:s
sounds of daylight, it may be mnistaken for the rolling of heavy imachinery, forming a deep bass to the
lowing of cattle, the barking of dogs  and the
-whistle of the ploughman.  It is at night, when all
is still that the noise is sensibly heard and felt.
Felt. I say, for the concussion of the fa,lling waters
booms in the ear like an eternal thing; while, ever
and anon. as the circles of trembling air float by
your resting-plaee, so does every door, window,. and
movable thing jar.  It is as if a, giant took up the
house, gave it a hasty shake, and put it down again,
renewing the process at varied intervals, from two
minutes to five, all the niight long.  It must depend
on the quarter from which the wind blows, whether
this ceaseless vibration is strong or weak.  It is said
that the sound is frequently heard on Lake Erie, at
'l
i
AI
i
I
I
N IAGARfiA.
I 
the distance of twenty-five miles, and has been heard
even at Toronto, which is forty-four miles off.
Few things are miore fit to teach how great is the
mistake so often made by our self-complacence when
we imagine that all things are made to gratify or
instruct Man. Whether he wake or sleep, whether
he die or never was born, the flowerets blow, the
ocean roars, the brooks shine on their way, and
Niagara makes the surrounding earth tremble on his.
There are eyes that we see not observing and admiring the works of creation. The eyes of watchers
that wake when we sleep, and guard and prevent
when we are in danger-and that give to God the
glory due unto his name in everything. Oh to have
every earthly admiration enjoyed with their purity,
and enhanced by their holiness!
We have seen the sea breathing calmly as in
mber.  We have seen the tides ebbing and flowi   like a pulse.  We  have seen the curling wave
thing its playful crest in sunshine and pure air.
e have seen old Ocean rising in his might, until
low upon billow rose and fell like the rolled hills
ich are formed ere the plain rises into a lofty
nge of mountains.  We have seen wave swell after
ve, and plung,e along as if resolved to assail a
i
i
I
I
i
I
497
NIAGA,RA.
I
I
i
I
i W
L
-1 
438                    IAGARA.
battery of rocks, and sweep them down into the
capacious bosom of the deep. We have counted
their wonderful succession, till growing in power,
when they reached the mnystic number nine, they
would rise in awful force into the very clouds when
the rocks or pier stopped their headlong course,
and fall in scattered foam far up on the dry land.
Many a time has the mind kindled at the view of
the boundless waters in all their changing moods,
and felt that the hand of God was there, not more
when the billows lift up themselves than when they
die upon the shore.
But there is a sentiment awakened by the Falls of
Niagara differing from all others.   Ocean has its
storms and calms —its ebbs and flows.  Niagara is
ever the same.  It has been so for uncounted ages.
Who  knows how many g(enerations of Red  Men
were familiar with that sullen roar before the year
1678, when a description of it was given to Europe
by Father Hennepin? or how many centuries it had
flowed and plunged down the steep, before the Red
Man was born?  Ever-ever have the waters of
Lake Erie fed that powerful torrent, and ever-ever
ha,s it been flung down that precipice.
They comirpute tha.t the four miles of rapids below
the Falls. which are hemmed in by rocks as high and
I
i
I 
IAGARA.             439
steep as those in its immediate vicinity, have all
been cut through and wasted by the water. Who
can tell if this be so, or at what snail's pace this
mining work has been accomplished?  It is not by
cutting the upper rocks.  They shine through the
transparent water with edges as sharp as if they had
just conime from under the quarry-man's tool. The
cascade slowly cuts its way by the revulsion of the
cast-down waters caving out the earth below, making
a  Cave of the Winds" between the shining liquid
sheet on one side, and the dull soil on the other, till
the supeorincumbent Rock: having lost its support, is
plunged down prone. And should the deluge of
fire which will ultimately turn all these waters into
vapors of smnoke, be so long delayed, the Niagara
Falls may yet eat their way back to Lake Erie.
Time-Timne-thou hast come from the bosom of
Eternity,. as this river comes from the bosom of
the Lake.  Yet the Lake is not emptied or diminished. neither is Eternity.  How many rapids, and
cataracts, and whirlpools have we to encounter who
float for a while on thy surface! What momentous
results hang on the passage. Born out of the Lake
-buried in the Ocean-are we not like thee, Niagara?   Born out of Eternity, and returning to
Eternity, what need to prepare for it. What hap
i
I
I
I
I
439
NIAGARA. 
440             IAARA.
piness and joy to be reconciled to the Eternal, to
taste His redeeming love, to dwell in the light of
His smile forever and ever.
The time is at hand when the "mighty angel
clothed with a cloud, with a rainbow around his
head," shall lift up his hand to Heaven, and swear
by Him that liveth forever, who created all that is
beautiful and grand in earth, sky, and ocean, " that
there shall be tilmne no longer."  Then our opinions,
our tastes, our criticisms, our books, will all be as
nothing-and our interest in Christ Jesus the Lord
our Righteousness will be All in All.
"The sun is but a spark of fire,
A transient meteor in the sky.
The soul, immortal as its Sire,
Shall never die."
THE END.
I
i
440
NIAGARA.
,   n   -,'Nt 
PUBLISHED BY
Rubert  CFurttr    Tro           t trg,
285 BROADWAY, NEW YORK.
ABEEL'S (Rev. David) Life. By his Nephew.'no.......  5.. 0.
ABERCROMBIE'S Contest and The Armour. 32mo, gilt 
ADAM'S Three Divine Sisters-Faith, Hope and Charity......
ADVICE TO A YOUNG OC-IRISTIAN.  18mo............
ALLEINE'S Gospel Promises. 18mo....................
Life and Letters. 12mo..........................
ALEXANDER'S Counsels to the Young. 32mo, gilt..........
ANCIENT HISTORY of the Egyptians, Syrians, &c., 4 vols..
ANDERSON'S Annals of the English Bible. 8vo............
Fanmily Book. 12mo.............................
AUSTRALIA, the Loss of the Brig, by Fire. 18mo............
BAGCSTER-The Authenticity and Inspiration of the Bible 
BAXTER'S Saint's Rest. Large type. 12mo...............
Call to the Unconverted. l mo.....................
Choice Works.     12 o............................
BIBLE EXPOSITOR.  Illustrated.  18mo..................
BICKERSTETI-H'S Treatise on Prayer. 18mo...............
Treatise on the Lord's Supper. 18 o.................
BLOSSOMS OF CHILDHII  OOD. By the author of the "Broken
Bud."  ]limo.....................................
BLUNT'S Undesigned Coincidences, and Paley's Horw, Paulinve.
In one volume, 8vo................................
BOCGATZKY'S Golden Treasury. 24mo, gilt...............
I
BOOK ES
$50
25
60
30
30
6O
25
2 00
1 75
75
25
60
60
30
60
50
40
30
75
2 00
50 
CARTERS' PUBLICATIONS.
BONAR'S (Rev. Horatius) Nighlt of WVeepiig.................
-  Morning of Joy, a sequel to the above..................
Story of Grace......................................
Truth andError.  18imno............................4
- Man, his Peligioin aid lis Vcrld.......................
BONAR'S (Rev. Andrew) Commenetary oin Leviticus.  8vo....
BONNET'S Family,f Bethaniy.  ino......................             4
-M editations on the Lord'dsPrayer.  18mo................
BOOTH'S Reign of Grace.  12m............................
BORROW'S Bible and Gipsies of Spai.  8vo, cloth...........
BOSTON'S Fouo-fold State. 18mo...........................
Crook in the Lo,t. 18Imno...............................
BRETT  (Rev. W. 1H.)-The  Indian  Tribes o(f Guinna.  IllIs   tr-ated. 16mo.............................................
BROKEI   13 BUD; or, tihe Reminiscences of a Bereaved Mother.
With steel Frontispiece. 16mo.............................
BROWN'S (Rev. John, D.D.) Expositioin of Fitst Peter. 8evo..
-- On the Sayings and Discou rses (f Christ. 3 vols. 8vo.....
BROWN'S Explication of the Assembly's Cltechism.  12m...
BROWN  (Rev. Da-id) on the Secoid Advent.  12mo........ 
BRIDGES on the Chr         istian   Miisty.  8o....................
--     On the Proverbs. 8................................
On the CXIX.Psalm.  New edition. 8vo...............
— Memoir of Mary Jane Graham.   8vo...................
--      Vorks.:3 vols.  vo, containing th e above..............    
BROWN'S Co ncordance. New and neat edition.  24mo.......
Do.              Gilt edge.........................
BUCHANANS Comfort i Affliction.  lSmo................
On the Holy Spirtit. 18mo.  Second ditoll..............
BUNBURY'S Glory, Glory, Glory, and oth               er Narratives........
BUTLER'S (Bishop) Complete Works.  8vo..................
Sermons, alone.  8r.................................
Analogy, alonre. 8vo..................................
- and Wilsont's Anialogy. 8vo...........................
BUNYAN'S  Pilgrim's Progi-ess, fine edition, large type. 12m0o..
Do.                Gilt..........................
Do.                18Imo, close type.............
Jerusalem Siiner Saved.  l8imo........................
Greatness of the Soul.  18mo...........................
BURN'S (John) Christian Fragments.  18lmo..................
BURNS'  (Rev. Jabez) Parables and Miracles of Christ. 12iiio..
CAL'IN-The. Life and Times of John Calvin, the Great Re former.  By Paul Helenry, D.D.  2 vols. 8vo, Portrait..........
CAMERON'S (MrIs.) Farmer's Daughter.  Illustrated............   3
2
30
40
30
40
40
1 50
40
40
75
1 00
50
30
75
2 50
60
1 25
1 50
200
100
5 00
20
30
40
50
25
] 50
100
75
1 25
1 00
1 50
50
50
50
40
75
3 00
30 
CARTERS' PUBLICATIONS.
CATECHISMS-The Assembly's Catechism.  Per hundred....
- with Proofs........................................
Brown's Short Catechism.  Per hundred..............1
— Brown onil the Assembly's Catechism.  18imo.............
CECIL'S WORKS.  3 vols.  l2mo, with Portrait..............
-- Sermons, separate.................................. 
. iscellanies and Remains, separate..................... 
-  Original Thoughts, separate............................
-     (Catharine) Memoir of Mrs. Hawks, with Portrait........
CHARNOCK'S Choice Works..............................
CHALMERS' Sermons.  2 vols. 8vo. With a fine Portrait.....
-  Lectures on Romans.  8vo.        "           "....
-- Miscellanies.  Svo.                    ".....
-  Select Works; comprising the above.  4 vols. 8vo.......
-- Evidences of Christian Revelation.  2 vols............1 2
-  Natural Theology.  2 vols..............................  
-  Moral Philosophy.....................................
-    Commercial Discourses...............................
Astronomical Discourses..............................
CHEEVER'S Lectures on the Pilgrim's Progress. Illus. 12mo..
CHRISTIAN RETIREMENT.   12mo....................                5
-   EXPERIENCE.  By the same author.  12mo..........
CLARK'S (Rev. John A.,) Walk about Zion.  12mo..........
-    Pastor's Testimony....................................
Awake, Thou Sleeper.................................
Young Disciple........................................
— Gathered Fragments..................................
CLARKE'S Daily Scripture Promises. 32mo, gilt.............
COLQUHOUN'S (Lady) World's Religion. New ed.  16mo....
COMMANDMENT WITI-I PROMISE. By the Author of
"The Week," &c. Illustrated by Howland. 16mo.............7
COW-PER-The  Works of William Cowper; comprising his
Life, Letters and Poems, now first collected by the introduction
of Cowper's Private Correspondence.  Edited by the Rev. T. S.
Grimshaw.  With numerous illustrati,ons oni steel, and a fine
Portrait by Ritchie. I vol. royal 8vo........................
Do.            do.   cloth, extra gilt.................4
Do.           do.    morocco extra..................... 
Poetical Works, complete, separate. 2 vols. 16imo. Illus.
CUMMIN-G'S (Rev. John, D.D.) Message from God. 1smo.....
Christ Receiving Sinners...............................
CUNNIINGHAM'S World without Souls. 18mo.............
CUYLER'S (Rev. T. L.) Stray Arrows.......................
DALE (Rev. Thomas)-The Goldei Psalm  16mo............
--
3
1 25
3 00
1 25
10
3 00
1 00
1 00
1 00
1 00
60
300
1 50
1 50
6 00
125
1 25
60
60
60
1 00
~75
75
75
75
75
88
100
30
50
75
3 00
4 00
5 00
1 50
30
30
30
30
6G 
CARTFPkS' PUJLICATIONS.
DAVIES' Sermons.  3 vols. 12mo...........................
DAVIDSON'S (Dr.)Coinlexions. New edition. 8vo..........
Do.               do.      3 vols. lgmo..............
DAVID'S PSALMS, in metre. Large type. l2ino, embossed..
Do.                       do.        gilt edge.........
Do.                       do.    Turkey morocco......
Do.  18mo, good type, plain sheep......................
Do.  48mo, very neat pocket edition, sheep..............
Do.    "        "         "         morocco...........
Do.              "           "  "  gilt edge..........
Do.   "        "          "        tucks..............
Do.  with Brown's Notes.  18mo........................
Do.           "            "    morocco gilt..........
D'AUBIGNE'S History of the Reformation.  Carefully Revised,
with various additions not hitherto ptublished. 4 vols. in two.
12mo, cloth........................................1
Do.               do.   Svo, complete in 1 vol.........
Life of Cromwell the Protector. ]2mo..................
Germany, England and Scotland. 12mo.................
--     Luther and Calvin.  18mo.............................
-   The Authority of God the true Barrier against Infidel and
Romish Aggression......................................
DICK'S (John, D.D.) Lectiures on Theology.  Fine edition, with
Portrait. 2 vols. in one. Cloth..........................  5
Do.          do    sheep..............................
Do.         do.    in e vols. Cloth...................
Lectutres on Acts. vo..................................
DICKINSON'S (Rev. R. W.) Scenes from Sacred History......
---   Responsesfrom the Sacred Oracles....................
DODDRIDGE'S Rise and Progiess.  18m..................
--   Life of Col. Gardiner.  18mo..........................
DUNCAN'S Sacred Philosophy of the Seasons. 4 vols.........
— Life.  By his Son.  With Portrait. 12mo...............
-  Tales of the Scottish Peasantry. 18mo. Illustrated.......
Cottage Fireside. 18mo.  Illustrated...................
(Mrs.) Life of Mary Lundie Duncan. 16mo..............
Life of George A. Lundie. 18mno..................
—. Memoir of George B. Phillips. 18mo...............
-    Children of the Manse............................
- America as I saw it...............................
(MarIy Lundie) Rhymies for mny Children.  Illustrated...
EDGAR'S Variations of Popery.  8vo........................
EDWARD'S (Jonathan, D.D.) Charity an.d its Fruits. Never
before published. 16mo.....................................
i
I
I
I
I
i
4
2 00
1 50
1 50
75
1 00
2 00
38
20
25
31
50
50
1 00
1 50
] 00
50
75
25
75
2 5o
3 00
3 00
I 50
1 00
I 00
40
3)o
3 00
75
50
40
75
50
25
1 00
25
1 00
1 o0 
CARTEPRS'  EUBLIIC.
ERSKINE'S Gospel Sonnets.  18imno. Po
ENGLISI-iH  PULPIT.  8v.............
EVIDENCE:S OF CI-IRISTIANITY.
delivered before the University of Virgin
Among the LectuLrers are Drs. Alexande
Plumer, Green, McGill, Sampson, &c.
FAR OFF; or, Asia and Australia Descr
the " Peep of Day," &c. Illustrated. 16m
FAMILY WORSHIP.  A Series of Pra
and Evening throughout the year, adap
ship. By one hundred and eighty clergy:
Do.            do.             do.
Do.            do.             do.
FERGUSON'S Roman Republic. Svo..
FISK'S Memorial of the Holy Land. Wit
FLEURY'S Life of David.  12mo.......
FOSTER'S Essays on Decision of Chara
Do.                       do.
-     Essay on the Evils of Popular Igne
FORD'S Decapolis.  ]Smo.............
FOX-Memoir of the Rev. Henry Watson
Teloogoos. Illustrated. 12mo..........
FRANK  N ETI-IHERTON; or, The Talisn
FRY (Caroline)-The Listener. Illustrate
Christ on Law.  la2mo...............6
Sabbath Mttsings. 18mo............4
-- The Scripture Reader's Guide. 180
Christ our Example, and Autobiog
GEOLOGICAL COSMOGONY. By a
GOD IN THE STORM. 18m.......... 2
GOODE'S Better CovenaLt.  ]2mo.......                             6
GRAHAM' S Test of Truth.  18mo......3
GREEN-The Life of the Rev. Ashbel G
GRIFFITH'S Live while you Live.  18
IALDANE'S Expositi,on of Romans. 
HALL'S (Bishop) Select Works.  16mo
HIAIILTON'S (Rev. James, D.D.) Life
MounIt of Olives. 18mo..........
Harp on the Willows.  18mo.....
Thabnkfulness. i8mo.............
Life of Hall. 24mo, gilt........
Happy Iome.  Illustrated.  18mo
Life of Lady Colquhoun.  16mo.7
-   The Royal Preacher. WVith Portrai
b
5G
1 50
2 50
75
3 00
4 00
5 00
1 50
1 00
60
75
50
75
25
1 00
60
1 00
60
40
30
30
25
60
30
2 00
30
2 50
75
30
30
30
30
30
50
75
85 
CARTERS' PUBLICATIONS.
HAWKER'S Poor Man's Morning Portion. 12mo.............
Do.          do.    Evening Portion.    "...........
Zioi's Pilgrim.   mo..................................
HERVEY'S Meditations. 18ino..........................
HETHERINGTONQS Ilistory of the Church of Scotlaind.....
HENGSTENBEERG cn the Apocalypse.  2 vols. 8vo.........
HIENRY'S (Matt.) MAethod for Prayer.........................
Comnmujicant's Companion. 18mo......................
-- Daily Communion with God. "......................
Pleasantniess of a Religious Life. 24mo, gilt.............
Choice Works. 12mo..............................
HENRY, Philip, Life of. 18mo..............................
HEWITSON-Slemnoir of the Rev. W. I. Ifewitson, Free Church
MAinister at Dirleton, Scotland, with Portrait. 12mo............
HILL'S (George) Lectures on Divinity.  vo.................
(Rowl,ndl) Life. By Sidney. ]2mo.....................
ISTORY OF THE PURITANS IN ENGLAND, AND
THE PILGRIM FATIIERS. By Stowell and Witsoi  12mino.
HISTORY OF TI-IE REFORMATION IN EUROPE......
HOUSMAN'S Life and Remains.  1Ioo.....................
HORNE'S Introduction.  2 vols. royal 8vo, half cloth..........
Do.        do.      1 vol. sheep........................ 
Do.        do.      2 vols. cloth........................
Do.        do.      2 vols. library style.................
-   Bi-hop,) Commentary on the Book of Psalms.........
HOWELL'S LIFE-Perfect Peace. l8mo...................
HOWE'S Redeemer's Tears, and other Essays. i8mo..........
HOWARD, (John,) or the Prisoni World of Eu(rope.  12mo..... 
IHOOKER, (Rev. H.,) The Uses of Adversity. ]8ioo............
Philosophy of Unbelief.................................
IHIUSS, (John,) Life of. Translated from the German...........
INFANT'S PROGRESS.  By the Author of" Little Henry and
his Bearer." Illustrated. 16mo..............................
JACOBUS on Matthew.  With a Harmony.  Illustrated........
-- Questions ol do. 18mo................................
On Mark, Luke and John, (preparing,)..................
JAMES' Anxious lnquirer. 1mo............................
— True Christian. i18mo..................................
Widow Directed. 18mo...............................
-- Young Man from Ihome................................
Christian Professor.  New edition. 12mo................
Christian Duty. 15mo...............................
JAMIE GORDON; or, The Orphan.  Illustrtted.  16mo.....
JANEWAY'S Heaven upon Earth. 18mo....................
I
6
6C
60
30
40
1 50
40
40
30
30
60
50
85
200
75
100
40
75
3,50
4 00
4 n0
5 00
1 50
30
50
1 oo
30
75
25
75
75
15
30
30
30
30
75
75
75
5Q 
CAR TERS' PUBLICA_TIONS.
JANEWAY'S Toke  f,,r Children.  18mo.....................
JA:ZIS Alorninig Exercises.  12o...........................
Evening          "        ".............................
-      Ch histiain Contenmplated.  18mo.........................
J.hbilee M emorial.  1Sio..............................
JERRAM'S Tribute to a beloved and only Daughter..........
OI-iNSONIS Ratssei.s.  Elegant edition.  16mo..............
KEY  TO THE   SI-IORTER CATEOCHISM.................
KElNNEDY'S (Grace) Protession is not Principle..............
— Jessy Allan, thle L,ame Girl. 18mo......................
Aniia R(,ss. 18mo. Illustrated.........................
De,cision.  18mo.......................................
KING'S (Rev. David, LL.D.) Geology and Religion. 16mo.....
On the Eldershp......................................
KITTO'S (John. D.D.) Daily Bible Illustrations.
MORNING SERIES.
Vol.  I. Antediluviatis and Patriarchs................
It. Moses and the Judges......................
II[t. Samnuel, Saul, and David....................
IV. Solomon and the Kings.......................
EVENING SERIES.
Vol.  1. Job and the Poetical Books.................
II. Isaiah aid the Prophets.....................
III. The Lifo and Death of our Lord............
IV. iThe Apostles tand the Early Church - - -......
KRUMMACiER'S Malityr Lamb. 18Imo.....................
El';jah the Tishbite. 1.mo..............................
Last Days ot El sha. Newedition. l8mo................
LANTDS OF THE!iIOSLEM. By El-lMukattem.  8vo.......
LEYB'JRN'S  oldier of the Cross. 12mo....................
LIFE IN lEW'-YOR-K. 18NoE..............................
LIFE OF A VA'-'4RANT.  Wi~itten by himself...............
LIG'-'ITED VA I-EY; o1, the Memo,ir of Miss Bolton.........
LOWRIE',S Iette, s to Sabbath-school Children...............
(Rv. John C) Two Years in Upper India...............
LOCXWOOD'S MAlemoir. By his Father. 18mo.............
LUTIERIS Comnme ntarfy on the Galatians. 8vo...............
MACiCAY-The  Vickliffites................................
MARTIN'S (Sarah) Life. 181n o.............................
MARTYN'S (hlenry) Life. 12mo. New edition...............
MARSEALL oil Sanctitflcation.  18mo........................
L                                                            _____
I
I
I
I
7
30
75
75
40
30
30
50
20
30
25
30
25
75
50
1, 00
I 00
I 00
I 00
il
1 00
1 00
I (O
1 00
40
40
50
1 50
1 00
40
50
75
25
75
40
1 50
75
30
60
50 
CARTERS' PUBLICATIONS.
MARTYRS AND COVENANTERS OF SCOTLAND.....
MASOi'S (Dr. Johi) Ess.iys on the Church.................
MATHEWS'  Bible a.id Civil C,vert,ment.  l2mo.............
McCOS-H on the Divine Goverilineet, Physical and Moral......
McCRINDELL-The CottvnLi. A N,rrative. 18lieo............
McCI-IEYlNE'S (Rev. R,bert Murray) Works. 2 vols. 8vo.....
Life, Lectu, es, aid Letters.  Seiarate..................
SermonsF.  Separate..................................
-   Famiiliar Lettet S fiom the Holy Land. 18mo.............
McFARLANE —'ihe Mountains of the Bible.  Illustrated......
McGC-HEE'S (Rev. R. J.) Lectures on the Ephesians. 8vo......
McGILVRAY'S Peace ini Believing..........................
McLEOD'S ITifci and Power of True Godliness................
McCLELLAND  (Prof. Alex.) on the Cinloni Interpretation of
Script!.re.......................................
MEIKLE'S Solitude Sweetened. 12mo........................
MIEiTEATHII-Lays of the Kirk aiid Covenomt.  lllus. 16ino..
MILLER (Httgh)-The Geology of the Bass Rock.  Illustrated..
MILLER'S (Rev. DrI. Samuel) Memoir of Rev. Dr-. Nisbet......
(Rev. John-) Design of the Chttrch. 12mo..............
MICHAEL  KEMFP, the Farmer's Lad. 18mo.................
MISSIONS, the Origin atid History of.  25 steel plates. 4to...
MOFFATT'S Southern Africa. l2mo.......................
MONOD'S Lucilla; or, the Reading of the Bible.  18mo.......
MORE'S  (lHantnith) Private Devotion.  Largetype  lmeno......
Do.            do.         do.                   gilt......   7
Do.            do.         do.  smnall edition.  32imo.......
Do.            do.         do.          "        gilt.......
MORELL'S  HIistory of Modern Philosophy. 8vo...............
MORNING  OF LIFE.  1iemo...............................
MURPIHEY'S Bible and Geology Conisistent.................. 
MY  SCHOOL-BOY DAYS.  1Sne. Illustrated..............
MY YOUTHFIUL COMPANIONS. l]mo. Illtustrated......
MY SCHOOL-EBOY DAYS AND YOUTHIFUL COMPANi IONS, bound in oe vol ume.  Illustrated.  Ito.............
MY  GRANDFATHER  GREGORY.   Illustrated............
MY GRANDMOTHER GILBERT.                       do.............
NEWTON'S  (Rev. John) Wolrks.  2 vols in one.  Poitrait...
NMelioiir of M. Mag,alen Jasper  1Stne.................
NEW  COBWEBS  TO  CATCH  LITTLE  FLIES.   illtus trated.    me, square.......................................
NOEL'S Inlfnt Piety. 18mo.................................
OLMSTED'S Thoughts and Counsels for the Impenitent.......
OLD WHITE MEETING-HOUSE.  l8mo..................
8
40
60
] 00
2 00
50
3 00
1 50
2 00
50
75
2 00
25
60
75
60
75
75
75
60
40
3 59
75
40
50
75
20
30
300
40
1 c0
30
30
50
25
25
00
30
SO
25
50
40 
CARTERS' PUBLICATIONS.
OLD HUMPHREY'S Observations..........................
--   Addresses............................................
Thoughts for the'I Thouightful...........................
Walks in Loi don.....................................
Ilomely Hi              nts...................................
Coulntry- Strolls...................................
Old Sea  Captain.......................................
G ra sdparen'ts..........................................
Isle of Wight..........................................
-Pithy Papers..........................................
Pileasant Tales. Illustrated............................
North American Indians...............................
OPIE on Lying.  New edition.  8lmo, iliustrated-..............
OSBORNE  (iMrs.)-The World of Waters   or, a Peaceful Pro  giess o'er thle U)pathed Sea.  Illustrated. 16mo..............
O'WEN oln Spiritual Mindedihess.  12mo......................
PALEY'S Heore Pauliine.  12mo.............................
PASOAL'S Provincial Letters.   New edition.  Edited by D-r.
'iIcCrie. l2mo..............................................
PASTOR'S DAUJG-ITER.   By Louisa Payson Hopkins.......
PATTERSON  on the Assembly's Shorter Catechism...........
PEiEP OF DAY.  Newedition...............................
LINE UPON LINE.   New edition..........................
PRECEPT ON PRECEPT.   New edition...................
PIKE'S True Happinless.  18mo..............................
Divine Origin of Christianity.  18mo...................
PHILIP'S Devotioljal Guides.  2 vols. 12mo..................
Young Man's Closet l,ibrary...........................
Marys, or the Deau ty of Femnale Holiness...............
Marthas, or thie Varieties of Female Piety...............
Lydias, or the Developmnent of Female Character........
Hlanniahs, or'Matern,al Influences  oS   S     ons................
--      Love of the Spirit...................................
POLLOK'S Course of Time.  Elegant ed. 16mno. Portrait.....
Do.             do.                         gilt, extra....
Do.              do.     Turkey morocco, gilt............      
Do.             do.  8lImo. small col)y, close type.......
Life, Letters, aid Remnainls. By the Rev. Jas. Scott, D.D...
Tales of the Scottish Covenanters.  Illustrated. 16mo....
Ilelen of the Glen.  18mo.  Iltustrated.................
Persecuted Family...................
Ralph Genrniel'.      "......................
PORTEUS' Lectures on Matthew. l2mo......................
POWERSCOTT'S (Lady) Letters. 12mo.....................
I
9
40
40
40
40
40
40
40
40
40
40
40)
40
40
75
60
75
100
40
50
30
30
30
30
30
150
75
40
40
40
40
40
100
150
200
40
I00
75
25
25
25
60
75 
CARTERS' PUBLICATIONS.
PSALMS IN  IEBREW.   2               gilt.........
RE TROSPECT (The).  Ey Alfqils. I(ii).......
RICHMIOND'S Domnestic Portrayitre.  Erdited
N\ew and elegant editioi.  lllrted.        o..
-  Annals of the Poor. 18io...............
ROGER MILLER;  or, Hieroism i  llWtmble Li f
trodtetion: by Dr. Alexander.  l o........
ROGER'S Jacob's Well.           o............
ROGERS —The Folded Lamb   or, 0 ieemoriaal
Sonl.  16t oo..................................
ROMAINE  on Faith.  12rno..........................
--  Letters. 12rn2mo..........................
ROWLAND'S  (Rev. If. A ) Comtnoll AMaxims o               t
RUTEIERFORD'S  Letters.  With Life by BSCoi
RYLE'S Livinjg or Dead?  A Series of Holme Ta
---  Wheat or Chlaff?......................
SCOTT'S F'orce of Tru.h. 18iS.........................
SCOUGAL'S  Works.  iSmo..................
SELECT WORKS  of Jamnes, Veun, Wilson, Pi,.
SELECT CHRISTIAN  AUTIIORS.  2 v2ls. 
SERLE'S Christian Remnembrancer.  24mo, gilt
SINNER'S FRIEND.   18ro.....................
SIGOURNEY'S (Mrs. L. H.) Water Drops.  Illl
Letters to my Pupils.  With Port ait. 16nu
Olive Leaves.  Illustrated. 1Ilmo........
- Boys' Book.  Illustrated. 1Smo..........
-— Girls' Book...............................
--    Child's Book.     "        "  square....
SINCLAIR'ES  ilodern Accomplishments.......
Aodern Society.......................
Charlie Seymour.  18ino. Illtistrated.....
SVIMEOZ-'S LIFE.  By Carus.  Vith Portrait. 
SMITHI'S  (Rev James) Greei Pstinres for the ]
SMYT.:S i,lereaved Parents C(.i,,oled. j2mo..             (
SONCGS IN THE H-OUSE OF MY PILGRIM
SORROWING  YET  REJOICING.  18imo....
DTo.                  (10.         omIo, gil
SPRINGI'S (Rev. Dr.) Memoirs of the late Ialn              r
STEVENSOI'S Christ on the Cross. J2nio....
Lo,rd our Shepherd.  l2mo..............
STORIES ON THIE LORD'S PRAYER, 
TALES.  By the Author of " Eldward and Miri
SUMNER'S Exposition of Matthew and Mark.
SU'DDARDS' British Pulpit.  2 vols. Svo......
10
50
40
75.
41
~ 40
60
60
60
7.,
I 5tl
75
1,5)
.2,5
4 0
1 50
2 00
50
25
75
75
45
40
40
35
75
75
30
Q 00
1 00
75
7;5
.30
i 50
75
(l0
I
I
12mo.......... 75
.................. 3 (00 
CARTERS' PUBLICATIONS.
SYMINC  TON  onl the Atonement. 1]mo......................
TACITUS' Works Translated.  Edited by Murphy. 8vo.......
TAYLOR'S (Jane)'ymrnis for Infant Minds.  Sqttare. Illust....
I,imed Twigs to Catch Youtng flirds. Square. Illustrated..
Life and Correspoindence.  idmo........................
Contributiois of Q. Q. Witlh eight tinted illustrations....
-  Display, a Tale.  ISmo...............................
M-lother n,id Daughter..................................
-  Essau s in Rhyme.  18mo...............................
Original Poetn  atnd Poetical Retnairns.  Illustrated......
(Isaac) Loyola; or, Jesuitism in its Rudiments........ 
Natural History of lEthusiasm. l2mo..................
- (Jeremry) Serteons. Coinplete in 1 vol. 8vo.............
-- (Thomas)Life of Haah More........................TENNEN'T"S Life. 32mo, glt.............................
THOLUCK'S Ci, cie of luan Life. 18m...........
TURBETINE'S Complete Works, in the Original Latin.......
THI-IE  THIEOLOGICAL  SKETCH  BOOK.   2 vols...........
THUCYDIDES'  History of the Pelopoinnesian War.  8vo.....              5
TUCKER-The Raih,bow ini the North.  A short account of the
first establishmet (f Christianity in Rupert's IL,aind. Illus. 16mo.
TUTTLE-Memoir of Wiiliam.  By his Nephew. 16mo.  Port't.
TURNIULL'S Genius of Scotland. Illustrated. 16mo........
-,- Pulpit Orators of Irance and Switzerland............... 
TYNG'S Lectuies ont the Law and Gospel.  With Portrait.....           5
— Christ is All 8evo. With Portrait........................
- Israel of God. 8evo. Enlarged editioi...................
-- Recollections of Eng,land.  12mo.......................
--  A  Lamb  trom the Fle)ck. 18mo.........................
WATERBURY'S Book flor the Sabbath. 18iSno...............
WAUGIH-I-em(,ir of the Rev. Alexatlder Waugh, D.D. By )rs.
Hay and Belfrage.  lmo............................. 
WEEK  ('rhe)-Comprisiing the Ltast Day of the WVeek, the First
Day of the Week. and the Week Completed.  Illust. 16mo....
WHATEILY'S Kiingdom of Christ and Errors of Itomanism...
W7VHI-TECROSS'S Anecdotes on the Assembly's Catechism....
WHITE'S (Hugh) Meditation on Prayer. 18mo................
-  Believer; a Series of Discourses. ]8mo................. 
Practical Reflections otn the Second Advent.  18mo.......
--  (Henry Kirke) Cotnplete Works.  Life by Southey.......
WILBERFORCE'S (Wm.) Practical View.  Large type. 12mo.
WILLIAIVIS, (Rev. John,) Missionary to Polynesia, Life of.....
WILSON'S Lights atid Shadows of Scottis,h Life. 16mo. llns trated from original drawings................................
i
I
I
11
75
2 00
40
50
40
1 Q0
30
30
30
40
1 00
75
1 50
60
25
30
3 00
1 25
75
75
1 00
I0
1 50
1 50
I 50
1 O0
25
40
1 00
75
75
30
40
40
40
1 50
1 00
1 00
75
^.       _..                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.. 
C. CRTERS' PUBLICATIONS.
WINER'S Idioms of the Language of the New Testament......
WINSLOW  on Personal Dec(lenisio' and Revival..............
-       Midnight Harmonies; or, Thoughts for the Season of Soli tude and Sorrow. 16mo.....................................
WILLISONiS Sacramental Aeditations and Advices. 18mo....
WYLIE'S Journey over the Region of Fulfilled Prophecy.......
XENOPI-ION'S Whole Works. Translated...................
YOUNG'S Night Thoughts. 16mo. Large type, with Portrait...
Do.             do.                   extra gilt...........
Do.             do.       Turkey morocco, gilt............
Do.             do.           18mo, close type.............
ROBERT CARTER & BItOTIlERS,
Would invite special attention to the following NEw BOOKS, which
will also be foisid under their appropriate  heads in the foregoing,
pages:
AMERICA  AS I FOUND  IT.  By Mrs. Dauncan, author of the Me moirs of Mary Lundie Dunican, &c.  16mo.
LECTURES ON TIlE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. Delivered
at the University of Virginia, by eminent Clergymen of the Presby terian Church. 8vo. 13 portraits.
HENGSTENBERG on the Apocalypse.
MEMOIR OF WILLIAM TUTTL,E.
THE FOLDED LAMB.
FRANK NETHERTON; or, the Talisman.
CHARITY AND ITS FRUITS. By Jonathan Edwards.
FAR OFF; or, Asia and Australia Diescribed. By the Author of the
"Peep of Day," &c.  Illulstrate(ld.
KITTO'S Daily Bible Illustrations.  Eveninig Series, 4 vols., uniform
with the Morning Series.
WHEAT OR CHAFF? By the Rev. J. C. Ryle.
MAN-HIS RELIGION AND HIS WORLD. By Bonar. 18mo.
SONGS IN THIE HOUSE OF MY PILGRIMAGE,
CHRISTIAN DUTY. By John Angel James.
I
I
2 50
~ 60
60
50
30
2 00
I 00
1 50
2 00
40